THE CHALLENGE
Erle Douglas on his milke-white steede, Most like a baron bold, Rode foremost of his company, Whose armour shone like gold.
‘Show me,’ said he, ‘whose men ye be, That hunt so boldly here, That, without my consent, do chase And kill my fallow-deere.’
The first man that did answer make, Was noble Percy he; Who sayd, ‘We list not to declare, Nor shew whose men we be,
Yet we will spend our dearest blood, Thy chiefest harts to slay.’ Then Douglas swore a solemn oath, And thus in rage did say:
‘Ere thus I will out-bravèd be, One of us two shall dye: I know thee well, an erle thou art; Lord Percy, so am I.
But trust me, Percy, pittye it were, And great offence to kill Any of these our guiltlesse men, For they have done no ill.
Let thou and I the battell trye, And set our men aside.’ ‘Accurst be he,’ Erle Percy said, ‘By whom this is denied.’
Then stept a gallant squier forth, Witherington was his name, Who said, ‘I wold not have it told To Henry our king for shame,
That ere my captaine fought on foote, And I stood looking on. Ye be two erles,’ said Witherington, ‘And I a squier alone:
Ile do the best that do I may, While I have power to stand: While I have power to wield my sword, Ile fight with heart and hand.’