14. By these _shyars thre_ is probably meant three districts in Northumberland, which still go by the name of _shires_, and are all in the neighbourhood of Cheviot. These are _Islandshire_, being the district so named from Holy-Island: _Norehamshire_, so called from the town and castle of Noreham (or Norham): and _Bamboroughshire_, the ward or hundred belonging to Bamborough-castle and town.--PERCY.
31. blwe a mot.
41. ath the.
81. sayd the the.
99. "That day, that day, that gentil day," is cited in _The Complaynt of Scotland_, (ii. 101,) not, we imagine, as the _title_ of a ballad (any more than "The Persee and the Mongumrye met," _ante_, p. 19,) but as a line by which the song containing it might be recalled.
THE SECOND FIT.
The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent,[L1]
Ther hartes were good yenoughe; The first off arros that the shote off, Seven skore spear-men the sloughe.
Yet byddys the yerle Doglas uppon the bent, 5 A captayne good yenoughe, And that was sene verament, For he wrought hom both woo and wouche.
The Dogglas pertyd his ost or thre, Lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde, 10 With suar spears off myghtte tre, The cum in on every syde:
Thrughe our Yngglyshe archery Gave many a wounde full wyde; Many a doughete the garde to dy, 15 Which ganyde them no pryde.
The Ynglyshe men let thear bowys be,[L17]
And pulde owt brandes that wer bright;[L18]
It was a hevy syght to se Bryght swordes on basnites lyght. 20
Throrowe ryche male and myneyeple, Many sterne the stroke downe streght;[L22]
Many a freyke that was full fre, Ther undar foot dyd lyght.
At last the Duglas and the Perse met, 25 Lyk to captayns of myght and of mayne;[L26]
The swapte togethar tyll the both swat, With swordes that wear of fyn myllan.
Thes worthe freckys for to fyght, Ther-to the wear full fayne, 30 Tyll the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente, As ever dyd heal or rayne.[L32]
"Holde the, Perse," sayde the Doglas,[L33]
"And i' feth I shall the brynge Wher thowe shalte have a yerls wagis 35 Of Jamy our Scottish kynge.[L36]
"Thoue shalte have thy ransom fre, I hight the hear this thinge, For the manfullyste man yet art thowe, That ever I conqueryd in filde fightyng." 40
"Nay," sayd the lord Perse, "I tolde it the beforne, That I wolde never yeldyde be To no man of a woman born."
With that ther cam an arrowe hastely,[L45] 45 Forthe off a myghtte wane; Hit hathe strekene the yerle Duglas In at the brest bane.
Throroue lyvar and longs, bathe The sharp arrowe ys gane, 50 That never after in all his lyffe-days, He spayke mo wordes but ane: That was, "Fyghte ye, my myrry men, whyllys ye may, For my lyff-days ben gan."
The Perse leanyde on his brande, 55 And sawe the Duglas de; He tooke the dede mane be the hande, And sayd, "Wo ys me for the!
"To have savyde thy lyffe, I wolde have pertyde with My landes for years thre, 60 For a better man, of hart nare of hande, Was not in all the north contre."
Off all that se a Skottishe knyght, Was callyd Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry; He sawe the Duglas to the deth was dyght, 65 He spendyd a spear, a trusti tre:--
He rod uppon a corsiare Throughe a hondrith archery: He never stynttyde, nar never blane, Tyll he cam to the good lord Perse. 70
He set uppone the lord Perse A dynte that was full soare; With a suar spear of a myghtte tre Clean thorow the body he the Perse ber,
A' the tothar syde that a man myght se 75 A large cloth yard and mare: Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Cristiante, Then that day slain wear ther.
An archar off Northomberlonde Say slean was the lord Perse; 80 He bar a bende-bowe in his hand, Was made off trusti tre.
An arow, that a cloth yarde was lang, To th' harde stele haylde he; A dynt that was both sad and soar, 85 He sat on Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry.
The dynt yt was both sad and soar,[L87]
That he on Monggonberry sete;[L88]
The swane-fethars, that his arrowe bar, With his hart-blood the wear wete. 90
Ther was never a freak wone foot wolde fle, But still in stour dyd stand, Heawyng on yche othar, whyll the myght dre, With many a balfull brande.
This battell begane in Chyviat 95 An owar befor the none, And when even-song bell was rang, The battell was nat half done.
The tooke on ethar hand[L99]
Be the lyght off the mone; 100 Many hade no strength for to stande, In Chyviat the hillys aboun.[L102]
Of fifteen hondrith archars of Ynglonde Went away but fifti and thre; Of twenty hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde, 105 But even five and fifti:
But all wear slayne Cheviat within; The hade no strenge to stand on hy; The chylde may rue that ys unborne, It was the mor pitte. 110
Thear was slayne withe the lord Perse, Sir John of Agerstone, Sir Rogar, the hinde Hartly, Sir Wyllyam, the bolde Hearone.
Sir Jorg, the worthe Lovele,[L115] 115 A knyght of great renowen, Sir Raff, the ryche Rugbe, With dyntes wear beaten dowene.
For Wetharryngton my harte was wo, That ever he slayne shulde be; 120 For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to, Yet he knyled and fought on hys kny.
Ther was slayne with the dougheti Duglas, Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry, Sir Davy Lwdale, that worthe was,[L125] 125 His sistars son was he:
His Charls a Murre in that place, That never a foot wolde fle; Sir Hewe Maxwell, a lorde he was, With the Doglas dyd he dey. 130
So on the morrowe the mayde them byears Off birch and hasell so gray;[L132]
Many wedous with wepyng tears Cam to fach ther makys away.
Tivydale may carpe off care, 135 Northombarlond may mayk grat mon, For towe such captayns as slayne wear thear, On the March-perti shall never be non.