Both with speär, bill and brand,-- ’Twas a mighty sight to see; Hardier men both of heart nor hand Were not in Christiantè. XII They were twenty hundred spearmen good, Withouten any fail: They were born along by the water o’ Tweed I’ the boun’s[1094] o’ Teviotdale. XIII ‘Leave off the brittling of deer,’ he said; ‘To your bows look ye take good heed, For sith ye were on your mothers born Had ye never so mickle need.’ XIV The doughty Douglas on a steed Rode all his men beforn, His armour glitter’d as did a gleed[1095], Bolder bairn[1096] was never born. XV ‘Tell me whose men ye are,’ he says, ‘Or whose men that ye be; Who gave you leave in this Cheviot chase In the spite of mine and of me?’ XVI The first man that him answer made It was the good Lord Percye: ‘We will not tell thee whose men we are, Nor whose men that we be; But we will hunt here in this chase In the spite of thine and of thee. XVII ‘The fattest harts in all Cheviot We have kill’d, to carry away.’-- ‘By my troth,’ said the doughty Douglas again, ‘The one of us dies this day. XVIII ‘[Yet] to kill allè these guiltless men Alas, it were great pitye! But, Percy, thou art a lord of land, I an earl in my countrye-- Let all our men on a party[1097] stand, And do battle of thee and me!’ XIX ‘Christ’s curse on his crown,’ said the lord Percye, ‘Whosoever thereto says nay! By my troth, thou doughty Douglas,’ he says, ‘Thou shalt never see that day-- XX --‘Neither in England, Scotland nor France, Nor for no man of woman born, But, that (and fortune be my chance) I dare meet him, one man for one.’ XXI Then bespake a squire of Northumberland, Richard Witherington was his name; ‘It shall never be told in South England To King Harry the Fourth for shame. XXII ‘I wot you bin great lordès two, I am a poor squire of land; [Yet] I’ll ne’er see my captain fight on a field And stand myself and look on. But while that I may my weapon wield I’ll not fail, both heart and hand.’ XXIII That day, that day, that dreadful day!-- The first fytte[1098] here I find: An you’ll hear any more o’ the hunting of Cheviot, Yet there is more behind. _Fytte II_ XXIV The Englishmen had their bows y-bent, Their hearts were good enow; The first of arrows that they shot off Seven score spearmen they slew. XXV Yet bides the Earl Douglas upon the bent, A captain good enoghe; And that was seenè verament, For he wrought them both woe and wouche[1099]. XXVI