So thus did both these nobles dye, Whose courage none could staine; An English archer then perceiv'd The noble erle was slaine. He had a bow bent in his hand, Made of a trusty tree; An arrow of a cloth-yard long Up to the head drew hee. Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye, So right the shaft he sett, The grey goose-wing that was thereon In his harts bloode was wett. This fight did last from breake of day Till setting of the sun; For when they rung the evening bell, The battel scarce was done. With stout Erle Percy, there was slaine, Sir John of Egerton, Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John, Sir James, that bold Bar n. And with Sir George and stout Sir James, Both knights of good account, Good Sir Ralph Rabby there was slaine, Whose prowesse did surmount. For Witherington needs must I wayle, As one in doleful dumpes; For when his legs were smitten off, He fought upon his stumpes. And with Erle Douglas, there was slaine Sir Hugh Mountgomerye, Sir Charles Murray, that from the feeld One foote wold never flee. Sir Charles Murray of Ratcliff, too, His sisters sonne was hee; Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd, Yet saved cold not bee. And the Lord Maxwell in like case Did with Erle Douglas dye; Of twenty hundred Scottish speres, Scarce fifty-five did flye. Of fifteen hundred Englishmen, Went home but fifty-three; The rest were slaine in Chevy-Chace, Under the greene wood tree. Next day did many widowes come, Their husbands to bewayle; They washt their wounds in brinish teares, But all wold not prevayle. Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple blood, They bore with them away: They kist them dead a thousand times, Ere they were cladd in clay. This newes was brought to Eddenborrow, Where Scotlands king did raigne, That brave Erle Douglas suddenlye Was with an arrow slaine. "O heavy newes," King James did say; "Scottland can witnesse bee, I have not any captaine more Of such account as hee." Like tydings to King Henry came, Within as short a space, That Percy of Northumberland Was slaine in Chevy-Chace. "Now God be with him," said our king, "Sith it will noe better bee; I trust I have, within my realme, Five hundred as good as hee. "Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say, But I will vengeance take, I'll be revenged on them all, For brave Erle Percyes sake." This vow full well the king perform'd After, at Humbledowne; In one day, fifty knights were slayne, With lordes of great renowne. And of the rest, of small account, Did many thousands dye: Thus endeth the hunting in Chevy-Chace, Made by the Erle Percy.