Our English archers bent their bowes, Their harts were good and trew; Att the first flight of arrowes sent, Full four-score Scots they slew. [Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent, As Chieftain stout and good, As valiant Captain, all unmov'd The shock he firmly stood. His host he parted had in three, As Leader ware and try'd, And soon his spearmen on their foes Bare down on every side. Throughout the English archery They dealt full many a wound; But still our valiant Englishmen All firmly kept their ground. And throwing strait their bows away, They grasp'd their swords so bright: And now sharp blows, a heavy shower, On shields and helmets light.] They clos'd full fast on everye side, Noe slacknes there was found; And many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground. O Christ! it was a griefe to see, And likewise for to heare, The cries of men lying in their gore, And scattered here and there. At last these two stout erles did meet, Like captaines of great might; Like lyons wood they layd on lode, And made a cruell fight. They fought, untill they both did sweat, With swords of tempered steele; Until the blood, like drops of rain, They trickling downe did feele. "Yeeld thee, Lord Percy," Douglas sayd "In faith I will thee bringe, Where thou shalt high advanced bee By James our Scottish king. "Thy ransom I will freely give, And thus report of thee, Thou art the most couragious knight That ever I did see." "Noe, Douglas," quoth Erle Percy then, "Thy proffer I doe scorne I will not yeelde to any Scott, That ever yett was borne." With that, there came an arrow keene Out of an English bow, Which struck Erle Douglas to the heart, A deepe and deadlye blow: Who never spake more words than these, "Fight on, my merry men all; For why, my life is at an end: Lord Percy sees my fall." Then leaving liffe, Erle Percy tooke The dead man by the hand; And said, "Erle Douglas, for thy life Wold I had lost my land! "O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed With sorrow for thy sake; For sure, a more renowned knight Mischance cold never take." A knight amongst the Scotts there was, Which saw Erle Douglas dye, Who streight in wrath did vow revenge Upon the Lord Percye; Sir Hugh Mountgomerye was he call'd, Who, with a spere most bright, Well-mounted on a gallant steed, Ran fiercely through the fight; And past the English archers all, Without all dread or feare, And through Earl Percyes body then He thrust his hatefull spere With such a vehement force and might He did his body gore, The speare ran through the other side A large cloth-yard, and more.