The Percy was a man of strenghth,105
I tell yow in thys stounde,[301]
He smote the Dowglas at the swordes length,
That he felle to the growynde.
The sworde was scharpe and sore can byte,
I tell yow in sertayne;110
To the harte, he cowde hym smyte,
Thus was the Dowglas slayne.
The stonderds stode styll on eke syde,
With many a grevous grone;
Ther the fowght the day, and all the nyght,115
And many a dowghty man was 'slone.'[302]
Ther was no freke,[303] that ther wolde flye,
But styffly in stowre[304] can stond,
Ychone[305] hewyng on other whyll they myght drye,[306]
Wyth many a bayllefull bronde.120
Ther was slayne upon the Skottes syde,
For soth and sertenly,
Syr James a Dowglas ther was slayne,
That daye that he cowde dye.[307]
The yerlle Mentaye of he was slayne,125
Grysely[308] groned uppon the growynd;
Syr Davy Scotte, Syr Walter Steward,
Syr 'John' of Agurstonne.[309]
Syr Charlles Morrey in that place,
That never a fote wold flye;130
Sir Hughe Maxwell, a lorde he was,
With the Dowglas dyd he dye.
Ther was slayne upon the Skottes syde,
For soth[310] as I yow saye,
Of fowre and forty thowsande Scotts135
Went but eyghtene awaye.
Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe syde,
For soth and sertenlye,
A gentell knyght, Sir John Fitz-hughe,
Yt was the more petye.140
Syr James Harebotell ther was slayne,
For hym ther hartes were sore,
The gentyll 'Lovelle' ther was slayne,[311]
That the Percyes standerd bore.