With such a vehement force and might
He did his body gore,
The staff ran through the other side
A large cloth-yard, and more.
So thus did both these nobles dye,
Whose courage none could staine!
An English archer then perceived
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 he;
Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye
So right the shaft he set,
The grey goose-winge that was thereon
In his heart's bloode was wet.
This fight did last from breake of day
Till setting of the sun;
For when they rung the evening-bell,
The battle scarce was done.
THE SLAIN
With stout Erle Percy, there was slaine
Sir John of Egerton,
Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,
Sir James, that bold baron;
And with Sir George and stout Sir James,
Both knights of good account,
Good Sir Ralph Raby 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 field
One foote would never flee;
Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,
His sister's sonne was he;
Sir David Lamb, so well esteemed,
Yet saved he could not be;
And the Lord Maxwell in like case
Did with Erle Douglas dye:
Of twenty hundred Scottish speares,
Scarce fifty-five did flye.
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