English and Scottish Ballads, Volume VII

Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts

"But trust me, Piercy, pity it were,                                85
      And great offence, to kill
    Any of these our harmless men,
      For they have done no ill.

    "Let thou and I the battel try,
      And set our men aside:                                            90
    "Accurs'd be he," Lord Piercy said,
      "By whom this is deny'd."

    Then stept a gallant squire forth,
      (Witherington was his name)
    Who said, "I would not have it told                                 95
      To Henry our king for shame,

    "That ere my captaine fought on foot,
      And I stood looking on:
    You be two earls," said Witherington,
      "And I a squire alone.                                           100

    "I'll do the best that do I may,
      While I have power to stand;
    While I have power to wield my sword,
      I'll fight with heart and hand."

    Our English archers bent their bows,                               105
      Their hearts were good and true;
    At the first flight of arrows sent,
      Full three score Scots they slew.

    To drive the deer with hound and horn,
      Earl Douglas had the bent;                                       110
    A captain mov'd with mickle pride
      The spears to shivers sent.

    They clos'd full fast on every side,
      No slacknes there was found;
    And many a gallant gentleman                                       115
      Lay gasping on the ground.

    O Christ! it was a grief to see,
      And likewise for to hear,
    The cries of men lying in their gore,
      And scatter'd here and there.                                    120

    At last these two stout earls did meet,
      Like captains of great might;
    Like lions mov'd they laid on load,[L123]
      And made a cruel fight.

    They fought until they both did sweat,                             125
      With swords of temper'd steel;
    Until the blood, like drops of rain,
      They trickling down did feel.

    "Yield thee, Lord Piercy," Douglas said;
      "In faith I will thee bring,                                     130
    Where thou shalt high advanced be
      By James, our Scottish king.

    "Thy ransom I will freely give,
      And thus report of thee,
    Thou art the most couragious knight                                135
      That ever I did see.

    "No, Douglas," quoth Earl Piercy then,[L137]
      "Thy proffer I do scorn;
    I will not yield to any Scot
      That ever yet was born."                                         140

    With that, there came an arrow keen
      Out of an English bow,
    Which struck Earl Douglas to the heart,
      A deep and deadly blow:

    Who never spoke more words than these,                             145
      "Fight on, my merry men all;
    For why, my life is at an end,
      Lord Piercy sees my fall."

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

English and Scottish Ballads, Volume VII

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