But all wear slayne Cheviat within:
The hade no strengthe to stand on hie;[188]
The chylde may rue that ys un-borne,
It was the mor pittè.110
Thear was slayne with the lord Persè
Sir John of Agerstone,
Sir Roger the hinde[189] Hartly,
Sir Wyllyam the bolde Hearone.
Sir Jorg the worthè Lovele[190][191]115
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;120
For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to,[192]
Yet he knyled and fought on hys kne.[193]
Ther was slayne with the dougheti Douglas
Sir Hewe the Mongon-byrry,
Sir Davye Lwdale, that worthè was,125
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.130
So on the morrowe the mayde them byears
Off byrch, and hasell so 'gray;'[194]
Many wedous[195] with wepyng tears,[196]
Cam to fach ther makys[197] a-way.
Tivydale may carpe[198] off care,135
Northombarlond may mayk grat mone,[199]
For towe such captayns, as slayne wear thear,
On the march perti[200] shall never be none.[201]
Word ys commen to Edden-burrowe,
To Jamy the Skottishe kyng,140
That dougheti Duglas, lyff-tenant of the Merches,
He lay slean Chyviot with-in.
His handdes dyd he weal[202] and wryng,
He sayd, Alas, and woe ys me!
Such another captayn Skotland within,145
He sayd, y-feth shuld never be.[203]