Golden Numbers Part 77

"Yield thee, Lord Percy," Douglas said; "In faith I will thee bring Where thou shalt high advanced be By James, our Scottish king.

"Thy ransom I will freely give, And this report of thee, Thou art the most courageous knight That ever I did see."

"No, Douglas," saith Earl Percy then, "Thy proffer I do scorn; I will not yield to any Scot That ever yet was born."

With that there came an arrow keen Out of an English bow, Which struck Earl Douglas to the heart, A deep and deadly blow;

Who never spake more words than these: "Fight on, my merry men all; For why, my life is at an end; Lord Percy sees my fall."

Then leaving life, Earl Percy took The dead man by the hand; And said, "Earl Douglas, for thy life Would I had lost my land!

"In truth, my very heart doth bleed With sorrow for thy sake; For sure a more redoubted knight Mischance did never take."

A knight amongst the Scots there was Who saw Earl Douglas die, Who straight in wrath did vow revenge Upon the Earl Percy.

Sir Hugh Montgomery was he called, Who, with a spear full bright, Well mounted on a gallant steed, Ran fiercely through the fight;

And past the English archers all, Without a dread or fear; And through Earl Percy's body then He thrust his hateful spear;

With such 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 n.o.bles die, Whose courage none could stain.

An English archer then perceived The n.o.ble Earl was slain.

He had a bow bent in his hand, Made of a trusty tree; An arrow of a cloth-yard long To the hard head haled he.

Against Sir Hugh Montgomery So right the shaft he set, The gray goose wing that was thereon In his heart's blood was wet.

This fight did last from break of day Till setting of the sun: For when they rung the evening-bell, The battle scarce was done.

With stout Earl Percy there was slain Sir John of Egerton, Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John, Sir James, that bold barn.

And with Sir George and stout Sir James, Both knights of good account, Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slain, Whose prowess did surmount.

For Witherington needs must I wail As one in doleful dumps; For when his legs were smitten off, He fought upon his stumps.

And with Earl Douglas there was slain Sir Hugh Montgomery, Sir Charles Murray, that from the field, One foot would never flee.

Sir Charles Murray of Ratcliff, too-- His sister's son was he; Sir David Lamb, so well esteemed, But saved he could not be.

And the Lord Maxwell in like case Did with Earl Douglas die: Of twenty hundred Scottish spears, Scarce fifty-five did fly.

Of fifteen hundred Englishmen, Went home but fifty-three; The rest on Chevy-Chace were slain, Under the greenwood tree.

Next day did many widows come, Their husbands to bewail; They washed their wounds in brinish tears, But all would not prevail.

Their bodies, bathed in purple blood, They bore with them away; They kissed them dead a thousand times, Ere they were clad in clay.

The news was brought to Edinburgh, Where Scotland's king did reign, That brave Earl Douglas suddenly Was with an arrow slain:

"Oh heavy news," King James did say; "Scotland can witness be I have not any captain more Of such account as he."

Like tidings to King Henry came Within as short a s.p.a.ce, That Percy of Northumberland Was slain in Chevy-Chace:

"Now G.o.d be with him," said our king, "Since 'twill no better be; I trust I have within my realm Five hundred as good as he:

"Yet shall not Scots or Scotland say But I will vengeance take: I'll be revenged on them all, For brave Earl Percy's sake."

This vow full well the king performed After at Humbledown; In one day fifty knights were slain, With lords of high renown;

And of the rest, of small account, Did many hundreds die: Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chace, Made by the Earl Percy.

G.o.d save the king, and bless this land, With plenty, joy and peace; And grant, henceforth, that foul debate 'Twixt n.o.blemen may cease!

OLD BALLAD.

_Hynde Horn_

"Oh, it's Hynde Horn fair, and it's Hynde Horn free; Oh, where were you born, and in what countrie?"

"In a far distant countrie I was born; But of home and friends I am quite forlorn."

Oh, it's seven long years he served the king, But wages from him he ne'er got a thing: Oh, it's seven long years he served, I ween, And all for love of the king's daughter Jean.

Oh, he gave to his love a silver wand, Her sceptre of rule over fair Scotland; With three singing laverocks set thereon, For to mind her of him when he was gone.

And his love gave to him a gay gold ring, With three shining diamonds set therein; Oh, his love gave to him this gay gold ring, Of virtue and value above all thing; Saying--"While the diamonds do keep their hue, You will know that my love holds fast and true; But when the diamonds grow pale and wan, I'll be dead, or wed to another man."

Then the sails were spread, and away sail'd he; Oh, he sail'd away to a far countrie; And when he had been seven years to sea, Hynde Horn look'd to see how his ring might be.

But when Hynde Horn look'd the diamonds upon, Oh, he saw that they were both pale and wan; And at once he knew, from their alter'd hue, That his love was dead or had proved untrue.

Oh, the sails were spread, and away sail'd he Back over the sea to his own countrie; Then he left the ship when it came to land, And he met an auld beggar upon the strand.

"What news, thou auld beggar man?" said he; "For full seven years I've been over the sea."

Then the auld man said--"The strangest of all Is the curious wedding in our king's hall.

"For there's a king's daughter, came frae the wast, Has been married to him these nine days past; But unto him a wife the bride winna be, For love of Hynde Horn, far over the sea."

"Now, auld man, give to me your begging weed, And I will give to thee my riding steed; And, auld man, give to me your staff of tree, And my scarlet cloak I will give to thee.

"And you must teach me the auld beggar's role, As he goes his rounds, and receives his dole."

The auld man he did as young Hynde Horn said, And taught him the way to beg for his bread.

Then Hynde Horn bent him to his staff of tree, And to the king's palace away hobbled he; And when he arrived at the king's palace gate, To the porter he thus his pet.i.tion did state:

"Good porter, I pray, for Saints Peter and Paul, And for sake of the Saviour who died for us all, For one cup of wine, and one bit of bread, To an auld man with travel and hunger bestead.

"And ask the fair bride, for the sake of Hynde Horn, To hand them to one so sadly forlorn."