Two men that time from Quarmby came, Dawson and Haigh, indeed, Who then consulted of the same, Of this how to proceed. These countrymen, of course only, Said Eland kept alway, The Turn at Brighouse certainly, And you shall know the day. To Cromwelbottom you must come, In the wood there to wait; So you may have them all and some, And take them in a strait. The day was set, the Turn was kept, At Brighouse by sir John; Full little wist he was beset Then at his coming home. Dawson and Haigh had play'd their parts, And brought from Brereton green, Young gentlemen with hardy hearts, As well were known and seen. Adam of Beaumont there was laid, And Lacy with him also, And Lockwood, who was nought afraid To fight against his foe. In Cromwelbottom woods they lay, A number with them mo, Armed they were in good array, A spy they had also. To spy the time when Eland came, From Brighouse Turn that day, Who play'd his part, and show'd the same To them there as they lay. Beneath Brookfoot a hill there is To Brighouse in the way, Forth came they to the top of this, There prying for their prey. From the lane end then Eland came A spied these gentlemen, Sore wonder'd he who they could be, And val'd his bonnet then. "Thy court'sy 'vails thee not, sir knight, Thou slew my father dear, Some time sir Robert Beaumont hight, And slain thou shalt be here." Said Adam Beaumont, with the rest, "Thou hast our fathers slain, Whose deaths we mind shall be redrest, Of thee, and thine certain." To strike at him still did they strive, But Eland still withstood, With might and main, to save his life, But still they shed his blood. They cut him from his company, Belike at the lane end; And there they slew him certainly, And thus he made his end. Mark here the end of cruelty, Such fine hath falshood, lo! Such end forsooth himself had he, As he brought others to. But Beaumont yet was much to blame, Tho' here he play'd the man, The part he play'd not in the same Of a right Christian. A pure conscience could never find An heart to do this deed; Tho' he this day should be assign'd His own heart's blood to bleed. But kind, in these young gentlemen, Crept where it could not go, And in such sort enforced them Their fathers' bane to slo. _The second fray now here you have, The third now shall you hear; Of your kindness no more I crave, But only to give ear._ When sir John Eland thus was slain, Indeed the story tells, Both Beaumont and his fellows then Fled in Furness fells. O cruel Mars, why wert thou nought Contented yet with this; To shed more blood, but still thou sought, For such thy nature is.