Like tidings to King Henry came, Within as short a space, That Percy of Northumberland Was slain in Chevy-Chase. "Now God be with him," said our king, "Sith 'twill no better be, I trust I have within my realm Five hundred as good as he. "Yet shall not Scot nor Scotland say But I will vengeance take, And be revenged on them all For brave Lord Percy's sake." This vow full well the king performed After on Humble-down, In one day fifty knights were slain, With lords of great renown. And of the rest of small account Did many thousands die, &c. At the same time that our poet shows a laudable partiality to his countrymen, he represents the Scots after a manner not unbecoming so bold and brave a people: Earl Douglas on a milk-white steed, Most like a baron bold, Rode foremost of the company, Whose armour shone like gold. His sentiments and actions are every way suitable to a hero. "One of us two," says he, "must die: I am an earl as well as yourself, so that you can have no pretence for refusing the combat; however," says he, "it is pity, and indeed would be a sin, that so many innocent men should perish for our sakes: rather let you and I end our quarrel in single fight:" "Ere thus I will out-braved be, One of us two shall die; I know thee well, an earl thou art, Lord Percy, so am I. "But trust me, Percy, pity it were And great offence to kill Any of these our harmless men, For they have done no ill. "Let thou and I the battle try, And set our men aside." "Accurst be he," Lord Percy said, "By whom this is deny'd." When these brave men had distinguished themselves in the battle and in single combat with each other, in the midst of a generous parley, full of heroic sentiments, the Scotch earl falls, and with his dying words encourages his men to revenge his death, representing to them, as the most bitter circumstance of it, that his rival saw him fall: 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, "Fight on, my merry men all, For why, my life is at an end, Lord Percy sees my fall." Merry men, in the language of those times, is no more than a cheerful word for companions and fellow-soldiers. A passage in the eleventh book of Virgil's "AEneid" is very much to be admired, where Camilla, in her last agonies, instead of weeping over the wound she had received, as one might have expected from a warrior of her sex, considers only, like the hero of whom we are now speaking, how the battle should be continued after her death: _Tum sic exspirans_, &c. VIRG., _AEn._ xi. 820.