Then stept a gallant squire forth—
Witherington was his name—
Who said, "I would not have it told
To Henry, our king, for shame,
"That e'er my captain fought on foot,
And I stood looking on.
You be two earls," quoth Witherington,
"And I a squire alone;
"I'll do the best that do I may,
While I have power to stand;
While I have power to wield my sword,
I'll fight with heart and hand."
Our English archers bent their bows—
Their hearts were good and true;
At the first flight of arrows sent,
Full four score Scots they slew.
To drive the deer with hound and horn,
Douglas bade on the bent,
Two captains moved with mickle might,
Their spears to shivers went.
They closed full fast on every side,
No slackness there was found,
But many a gallant gentleman
Lay gasping on the ground.
O Christ! it was great grief to see
How each man chose his spear,
And how the blood out of their breasts
Did gush like water clear.
At last these two stout earls did meet
Like captains of great might;
Like lions wode, they laid on lode;
They made a cruel fight.
They fought until they both did sweat,
With swords of tempered steel,
Till blood down their cheeks like rain
They trickling down did feel.
"O yield thee, Percy!" Douglas said,
"And in faith I will thee bring
Where thou shalt high advanced be
By James, our Scottish king.