Had ye never so mickle need." (_brittling_, cutting up. _ware_, aware. _meany_, company. _bille_, battle-axe. _sith_, since.) The doughty Douglas on a steed He rode all his men beforne; His armour glittered as did a glede; A bolder bairn was never born. "Tell me whose men ye are," he says, "Or whose men that ye be: Who gave you leave to hunt in this Cheviot chase, In the spite of mine and me?" The first man that ever him an answer made, It was the good lord Perse: "We will not tell thee whose men we are," he says, "Nor whose men that we be; But we will hunt here in this chase, In the spite of thine and of thee. "The fattest harts in all Cheviot We have killed, and cast to carry them a-way:" "Be my troth," said the doughty Douglas again, "Therefore the one of us shall die this day." Then said the doughty Douglas Unto the lord Perse: "To kill all these guiltless men, Alas, it were great pity! (_glede_, burning gold. _cast_, intend.) "But, Perse, thou art a lord of land, I am an Earl called within my contre -, Let all our men upon a party stand, And do the battle of thee and of me." "Now Cristes corpse on his crown," said the lord Perse, "Whosoever there-to says nay; 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 Wytharyngton was him name; "It shall never be told in South-England," he says, "To king Harry the fourth for shame. "I wot you bin great lordes twa, I am a poor squire of land; I will never see my captain fight on a field, And stand myself, and lookè on, But while I may my weapon wield, I will not [fail] both heart and hand." That day, that day, that dreadfull day! The first fit here I find; And you will hear any more a' the hunting a' the Cheviot, Yet is there more behind. The English men had their bows yebent, Their hearts were good enough; The first of arrows that they shot off, Seven score spear-men they slough. Yet bides the Earl Douglas upon the bent, A captain good enough, And that was seenè verament, For he wrought home both woe and wouche. The Douglas parted his host in three, Like a cheffe chieftan of pride, With sure 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 gained them no pride. (_find,_ end. And, if. _slough_, slew. wouche, injury. _tree_, wood. _gard_, made.) THE SECOND FIT. |The English men let their bows be, And pulled out brands that were bright; It was a heavy sight to see Bright swords on basnets light. [Illustration: 0064]