Of fifteen hondrith archars of Ynglonde
Went away but fifti and thre
Of twenty hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde,
But even five and fifti
But all wear slayne Cheviat within:
The hade no strengthe to stand on hie;
The chylde may rue that ys un-borne,
It was the mor pittè.
Thear was slayne with the lord Persè
Sir John of Agerstone,[21]
Sir Roger, the hinde Hartly,
Sir Wyllyam the bold Hearone.
Sir Jorg the worthè Lovele
A knyght of great renowen,
Sir Raff, the ryche Rugbè
With dyntes wear beaten dowene.
For Wetharryngton my harte was wo,
That ever he slayne shulde be;
For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to,
Yet he knyled and fought on hys kne.
Ther was slayne with the dougheti Douglas
Sir Hewe the Mongon-byrry,
Sir Davye Lwdale, that worthè was,
His sistars son was he:
Sir Charles a Murrè, in that place,
That never a foot wolde fle;
Sir Hewe Maxwell, a lorde he was,
With the Duglas dyd he dey.
So on the morrowe the mayde them byears
Off byrch, and hasell so gray;
Many wedous with wepyng tears[22]
Cam to fach ther makys a-way.
Tivydale may carpe off care,
Northombarlond may mayk grat mone,
For towe such captayns, as slayne wear thear,
On the march perti shall never be none.
Word ys commen to Edden-burrowe,
To Jamy the Skottishe kyng,
That dougheti Duglas, lyff-tenant of the Merches,
He lay slean Chyviot with-in.
His handdes dyd he weal and wryng,
He sayd, "Alas, and woe ys me!"
Such another captayn Skotland within,
He sayd, y-feth shuld never be.