Ther was slayne upon the Skottes syde, For soth as I yow saye, For fowre and forty thowsande Skottes Went but eyghtene awaye. Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe syde, For soth and sertenlye, A gentyll knyght, syr Jhon ‘Fitzhewe,’ Yt was the more pety. Syr James Harebotell ther was slayne, For hym ther hartes were sore, The gentyll ‘Lovell’ ther was slayne, That the Perssye’s standerd bore. Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe perte, For soth as I yow saye; Of nyne thowsande Ynglysshe men, Fyve hondert cam awaye: The other were slayne in the fylde, Cryste kepe ther sowlles from wo, Seying ther was so fewe fryndes Agaynst so many a foo. Then on the morne they mayde them beerys Of byrch, and haysell graye; Many a widowe wyth wepyng teyres Ther makes they fette awaye. Thys fraye bygan at Otterborne Bytwene the nyghte and the daye; Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyffe, And the Perssye was lede awaye. Then was ther a Scottysh prysoner tayne, Syr Hewe Montgomery was hys name, For soth as I yow saye, He borrowed the Perssye home agayne. Now let us all for the Perssye praye, To Jesu most of myght, To bryng hys sowlle to the blysse of heven, For he was a gentyll knyght. [39] The armorial ensigns of Douglas were Argent, a Man’s Heart, Gules, and on a chief Azure three stars of the first. THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. It fell and about the Lammas time, When husband men do win their hay, Earl DOUGLAS is to the English woods, And a’ with him to fetch a prey. He has chosen the LINDSAYS light, With them the gallant GORDONS gay, And the Earl of FYFE withouten strife, And Sir HUGH MONTGOMERY upon a grey. They hae taken Northumberland, And sae hae they the North-shire, And the Otter-dale they burnt it hale, And set it a’ into a fire. Out then spack a bonny boy, That serv’d ane o’ Earl DOUGLAS’ kin; Methinks I see an English host A-coming branken us upon. If this be true, my little boy, An it be troth that thou tells me, The brawest bower in Otterbourne, This day shall be thy morning fee. But if it be false, my little boy, And but a lie that thou tells me; On the highest tree that’s in Otterbourne, With my awin hands I’ll hing thee hie. The boy’s taen out his little penknife, That hanget low down by his gare, And he gae Earl DOUGLAS a deadly wound, Alack! a deep wound and a sare. Earl DOUGLAS said to Sir HUGH MONTGOMERY, Tack thou the vanguard o’ the three; And bury me at yon braken bush, That stands upon yon lilly lee. Then PERCY and MONTGOMERY met, And weel a wat they war na fain; They swapped swords, and they twa swat, And ay the blood ran down between. O yield thee, yield thee, PERCY, he said, Or else I vow I’ll lay thee low. Whom to shall I yield? said Earl PERCY; Now that I see it maun be so.