"For Jesu's love," said Sir Harry Percy, "That died for you and me, Wend to my lord, my father, again, And say thou saw me not with ee; "My troth is plight to yon Scottish knight, It needs me not to layne, That I should bide him upon this bent, And I have his troth again; "And if that I wend off this ground, For sooth unfoughten away, He would me call but a coward knight, In his land another day. "Yet had I lever to be rynde and rent, By Mary that mykel may, Than ever my manhood should be reproved With a Scot another day. "Wherefore shoot, archers, for my sake, And let sharp arrows flee; Minstrels, play up for your warison, And well quit it shall be. "Every man think on his true love, And mark him to the Trinity; For to God I make mine a-vow This day will I not flee." The bloody heart in the Douglas' arms, His standard stood on high, That every man might full well know; Beside stood starres three. The white Li n on the English part, For sooth as I you sayne, The luces and the crescents both The Scots fought them again. Upon Saint Andrew loud did they cry, And thrice they shout on hyght, And syne marked them on our Englishmen, As I have told you right. Saint George the bright, our Lady's knight, To name they were full fain, Our Englishmen they cried on hyght, And thrice they shout again. With that sharp arrows began to flee, I tell you in certain; Men of arms began to join; Many a doughty man was there slain. The Percy and the Douglas met, That either of them was fain; They schapped together, while that they sweat, With swords of fine Collayne; Till the blood from their basenets ran As the roke doth in the rain. "Yield thee to me," said the Douglas, "Or else thou shalt be slain; "For I see by thy bright basenet, Thou art some man of might; And so I do by thy burnished brand, Thou art an earl, or else a knight." "By my good faith," said the noble Percy, "Now hast thou rede full right; Yet will I never yield me to thee, While I may stand and fight." They swapped together, while that they sweat, With swordes sharp and long; Each on other so fast they beat, Till their helms came in pieces down. The Percy was a man of strength, I tell you in this stound He smote the Douglas at the sword's length, That he felled him to the ground. The sword was sharp, and sore did byte, I tell you in certain; To the heart he did him smite, Thus was the Douglas slain. The standards stood still on each side; With many a grievous groan, There they fought the day, and all the night, And many a doughty man was slone.