By my troth, doughty Douglas," he says, "thou shalt never see that day! Neither in England, Scotland, nor France, nor for no man of a woman born, But and fortune be my chance, I dare meet him, one man for one." Then bespake a squire of Northumberland, Richard Witherington was his name, "It shall never be told in South England," he says, "to King Harry the Fourth, for shame. I wot you ben great lord-es two, I am a poor squire of land; I will never see my captain fight on a field, and stand myself and look on; But while I may my weapon wield I will fight both heart and hand." That day, that day, that dreadful day: the first fytte here I find, An you will hear any more of the hunting of the Cheviot, yet is there more behind. SECOND FYTTE. The English men had their bows ybent, their hearts were good enow; The first of arrows that they shot off, sevenscore spearmen they slowe. Yet bides the Earl Douglas upon the bent, a captain good enow, And that was seene verament, for he wrought them both wo and wough. The Douglas parted his host in three like a chief chieftain of pride, With suar spears of mighty tree they come in on every side, Through our English archery gave many a wound full wide; Many a doughty they gard to die, which gain-ed them no pride. The Englishmen let their bows be, and pulled out brands that were bright; It was a heavy sight to see bright swords on basnets light. Thorough rich mail and manople many stern they struck down straight, Many a freke that was full free there under foot did light. At last the Douglas and the Percy met, like to captains of might and of main; They swapt together till they both swat, with swords that were of fine Milan. These worthy frekis for to fight thereto they were full fain, Till the blood out of their basnets sprent as ever did hail or rain. "Yield thee, Percy," said the Douglas, "and in faith I shall thee bring Where thou shalt have an earl's wagis of Jamy our Scottish king. Thou shalt have thy ransom free, I hight thee here this thing, For the manfullest man yet art thou that ever I conquered in field fighting." "Nay," said the Lord Percy, "I told it thee beforn, That I would never yielded be to no man of a woman born." With that there came an arrow hastily forth of a mighty wone; It hath stricken the Earl Douglas in at the breastbone. Through liver and lung-es both the sharp arrow is gone, That never after in all his life-days he spake mo word-es but one, That was, "Fight ye, my merry men, whilis ye may, for my life-days ben gone!" The Percy lean-ed on his brand and saw the Douglas dee; He took the dead man by the hand, and said, "Wo is me for thee! To have saved thy life I would have parted with my lands for years three, For a better man of heart nor of hand was not in all the north countree." Of all that see, a Scottish knight, was called Sir Hugh the Montgomer- y,