The English and Scottish Popular Ballads :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Persë owt off Northombarlonde,
and avowe to God mayd he
That he wold hunte in the mowntayns
off Chyviat within days thre,
In the magger of doughtë Dogles,
and all that euer with him be.

2

The fattiste hartes in all Cheviat
he sayd he wold kyll, and cary them away:
‘Be my feth,’ sayd the dougheti Doglas agayn,
‘I wyll let that hontyng yf that I may.’

3

The[n] the Persë owt off Banborowe cam,
with him a myghtee meany,
With fifteen hondrith archares bold off blood and bone;
the wear chosen owt of shyars thre.

4

This begane on a Monday at morn,
in Cheviat the hillys so he;
The chylde may rue that ys vn-born,
it wos the mor pittë.

5

The dryvars thorowe the woodës went,
for to reas the dear;
Bomen byckarte vppone the bent
with ther browd aros cleare.

6

Then the wyld thorowe the woodës went,
on euery sydë shear;
Greahondes thorowe the grevis glent,
for to kyll thear dear.

7

This begane in Chyviat the hyls abone,
yerly on a Monnyn-day;
Be that it drewe to the oware off none,
a hondrith fat hartës ded ther lay.

8

The blewe a mort vppone the bent,
the semblyde on sydis shear;
To the quyrry then the Persë went,
to se the bryttlynge off the deare.

9

He sayd, It was the Duglas promys
this day to met me hear;
But I wyste he wolde faylle, verament;
a great oth the Persë swear.

10

At the laste a squyar off Northomberlonde
lokyde at his hand full ny;
He was war a the doughetie Doglas commynge,
with him a myghttë meany.

11

Both with spear, bylle, and brande,
yt was a myghtti sight to se;
Hardyar men, both off hart nor hande,
wear not in Cristiantë.

308

12

The wear twenti hondrith spear-men good,
withoute any feale;
The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde,
yth bowndës of Tividale.

13

‘Leave of the brytlyng of the dear,’ he sayd,
‘and to your boÿs lock ye tayk good hede;
For neuer sithe ye wear on your mothars borne
had ye neuer so mickle nede.’

14

The dougheti Dogglas on a stede,
he rode alle his men beforne;
His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede;
a boldar barne was never born.

15

‘Tell me whos men ye ar,’ he says,
‘or whos men that ye be:
Who gave youe leave to hunte in this Chyviat chays,
in the spyt of myn and of me.’

16

The first mane that ever him an answear mayd,
yt was the good lord Persë:
‘We wyll not tell the whoys men we ar,’ he says,
‘nor whos men that we be;
But we wyll hounte hear in this chays,
in the spyt of thyne and of the.

17

‘The fattiste hartës in all Chyviat
we haue kyld, and cast to carry them away:’
‘Be my troth,’ sayd the doughetë Dogglas agay[n],
‘therfor the ton of vs shall de this day.’

18

Then sayd the doughtë Doglas
unto the lord Persë:
‘To kyll alle thes giltles men,
alas, it wear great pittë!

19

‘But, Persë, thowe art a lord of lande,
I am a yerle callyd within my contrë;
Let all our men vppone a parti stande,
and do the battell off the and of me.’

20

‘Nowe Cristes cors on his crowne,’ sayd the lorde Persë,
‘who-so-euer ther-to says nay!
Be my troth, doughttë Doglas,’ he says,
‘thow shalt neuer se that day.

21

‘Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France,
nor for no man of a woman born,
But, and fortune be my chance,
I dar met him, on man for on.’

22

Then bespayke a squyar off Northombarlonde,
Richard Wytharyngton was him nam;
‘It shall neuer be told in Sothe-Ynglonde,’ he says,
‘to Kyng Herry the Fourth for sham.

23

‘I wat youe byn great lordës twaw,
I am a poor squyar of lande;
I wylle neuer se my captayne fyght on a fylde,
and stande my selffe and loocke on,
But whylle I may my weppone welde,
I wylle not [fayle] both hart and hande.’

24

That day, that day, that dredfull day!
the first fit here I fynde;
And youe wyll here any mor a the hountynge a the Chyviat,
yet ys ther mor behynde.

25

The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent,
ther hartes wer good yenoughe;
The first off arros that the shote off,
seven skore spear-men the sloughe.

26

Yet byddys the yerle Doglas vppon the bent,
a captayne good yenoughe,
And that was sene verament,
for he wrought hom both woo and wouche.

27

The Dogglas partyd his ost in thre,
lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde;
With suar spears off myghttë tre,
the cum in on euery syde;

28

Thrughe our Yngglyshe archery
gave many a wounde fulle wyde;
Many a doughetë the garde to dy,
which ganyde them no pryde.

29

The Ynglyshe men let ther boÿs be,
and pulde owt brandes that wer brighte;
It was a hevy syght to se
bryght swordes on basnites lyght.

30

Thorowe ryche male and myneyeple,
many sterne the strocke done streght;
Many a freyke that was fulle fre,
ther vndar foot dyd lyght.

309

31

At last the Duglas and the Persë met,
lyk to captayns of myght and of mayne;
The swapte togethar tylle the both swat,
with swordes that wear of fyn myllan.

32

Thes worthë freckys for to fyght,
ther-to the wear fulle fayne,
Tylle the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente,
as euer dyd heal or ra[y]n.

33

‘Yelde the, Persë,’ sayde the Doglas,
‘and i feth I shalle the brynge
Wher thowe shalte haue a yerls wagis
of Jamy our Skottish kynge.

34

‘Thoue shalte haue thy ransom fre,
I hight the hear this thinge;
For the manfullyste man yet art thowe
that euer I conqueryd in filde fighttynge.’

35

‘Nay,’ sayd the lord Persë,
‘I tolde it the beforne,
That I wolde neuer yeldyde be
to no man of a woman born.’

36

With that ther cam an arrowe hastely,
forthe off a myghttë wane;
Hit hathe strekene the yerle Duglas
in at the brest-bane.

37

Thorowe lyvar and longës bathe
the sharpe arrowe ys gane,
That neuer after in all his lyffe-days
he spayke mo wordës but ane:
That was, Fyghte ye, my myrry men, whyllys ye may,
for my lyff-days ben gan.

38

The Persë leanyde on his brande,
and sawe the Duglas de;
He tooke the dede mane by the hande,
and sayd, Wo ys me for the!

39

‘To haue savyde thy lyffe, I wolde haue partyde with
my landes for years thre,
For a better man, of hart nare of hande,
was nat in all the north contrë.’

40

Off all that se a Skottishe knyght,
was callyd Ser Hewe the Monggombyrry;
He sawe the Duglas to the deth was dyght,
he spendyd a spear, a trusti tre.

41

He rod vppone a corsiare
throughe a hondrith archery:
He neuer stynttyde, nar neuer blane,
tylle he cam to the good lord Persë.

42

He set vppone the lorde Persë
a dynte that was full soare;
With a suar spear of a myghttë tre
clean thorow the body he the Persë ber,

43

A the tothar syde that a man myght se
a large cloth-yard and mare:
Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Cristiantë
then that day slan wear ther.

44

An archar off Northomberlonde
say slean was the lord Persë;
He bar a bende bowe in his hand,
was made off trusti tre.

45

An arow that a cloth-yarde was lang
to the harde stele halyde he;
A dynt that was both sad and soar
he sat on Ser Hewe the Monggombyrry.

46

The dynt yt was both sad and sar
that he of Monggomberry sete;
The swane-fethars that his arrowe bar
with his hart-blood the wear wete.

47

Ther was neuer a freake wone foot wolde fle,
but still in stour dyd stand,
Heawyng on yche othar, whylle the myghte dre,
with many a balfull brande.

48

This battell begane in Chyviat
an owar befor the none,
And when even-songe bell was rang,
the battell was nat half done.

49

The tocke [OMITTED] on ethar hande
be the lyght off the mone;
Many hade no strenght for to stande,
in Chyviat the hillys abon.

50

Of fifteen hondrith archars of Ynglonde
went away but seuenti and thre;
Of twenti hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde,
but even five and fifti.

51

But all wear slayne Cheviat within;
the hade no streng[th]e to stand on hy;

310

The chylde may rue that ys unborne,
it was the mor pittë.

52

Thear was slayne, withe the lord Persë,
Ser Johan of Agerstone,
Ser Rogar, the hinde Hartly,
Ser Wyllyam, the bolde Hearone.

53

Ser Jorg, the worthë Loumle,
a knyghte of great renowen,
Ser Raff, the ryche Rugbe,
with dyntes wear beaten dowene.

54

For Wetharryngton my harte was wo,
that euer he slayne shulde be;
For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to,
yet he knyled and fought on hys kny.

55

Ther was slayne, with the dougheti Duglas,
Ser Hewe the Monggombyrry,
Ser Dauy Lwdale, that worthë was,
his sistars son was he.

56

Ser Charls a Murrë in that place,
that neuer a foot wolde fle;
Ser Hewe Maxwelle, a lorde he was,
with the Doglas dyd he dey.

57

So on the morrowe the mayde them byears
off birch and hasell so g[r]ay;
Many wedous, with wepyng tears,
cam to fache ther makys away.

58

Tivydale may carpe off care,
Northombarlond may mayk great mon,
For towe such captayns as slayne wear thear
on the March-parti shall neuer be non.

59

Word ys commen to Eddenburrowe,
to Jamy the Skottishe kynge,
That dougheti Duglas, lyff-tenant of the Marches,
he lay slean Chyviot within.

60

His handdës dyd he weal and wryng,
he sayd, Alas, and woe ys me!
Such an othar captayn Skotland within,
he sayd, ye-feth shuld neuer be.

61

Worde ys commyn to lovly Londone,
till the fourth Harry our kynge,
That lord Persë, leyff-tenante of the Marchis,
he lay slayne Chyviat within.

62

‘God haue merci on his solle,’ sayde Kyng Harry,
‘good lord, yf thy will it be!
I haue a hondrith captayns in Ynglonde,’ he sayd,
‘as good as euer was he:
But, Persë, and I brook my lyffe,
thy deth well quyte shall be.’

63

As our noble kynge mayd his avowe,
lyke a noble prince of renowen,
For the deth of the lord Persë
he dyde the battell of Hombyll-down;

64

Wher syx and thrittë Skottishe knyghtes
on a day wear beaten down;
Glendale glytteryde on ther armor bryght,
over castille, towar, and town.

65

This was the hontynge off the Cheviat,
that tear begane this spurn;
Old men that knowen the grownde well yenoughe
call it the battell of Otterburn.

66

At Otterburn begane this spurne,
vppone a Monnynday;
Ther was the doughtë Doglas slean,
the Persë neuer went away.

67

Ther was neuer a tym on the Marche-partës
sen the Doglas and the Persë met,
But yt ys mervele and the rede blude ronne not,
as the reane doys in the stret.

68

Ihesue Crist our balys bete,
and to the blys vs brynge!
Thus was the hountynge of the Chivyat:
God send vs alle good endyng!