God prosper long our noble King,

our lives and safeties all,

A woful hunting once there did,

in Chevy-chace befal:

To drive the deer with hound and horn,

Earl Piercy took his way,

The child may rue that is unborn,

the hunting of that day.

The stout Earl of Northumberland,

a vow to God did make,

His Pleasure in the Scottish woods,

three summer's days to take,

The chiefest harts in Chevy-chace,

to kill and bear away.

The tydings to Earl Dowglas came,

in Scotland where he lay:

Who sent Earl Piercy present word,

he would prevent his sport.

The English Earl not fearing this,

did to the woods resort,

With fifteen hundred bow men bold,

all chosen men of might,

Who knew full well, in time of need,

to aim their shafts aright.

The gallant gray-hounds swiftly ran,

to chase the fallow-deer;

On Monday they begun to hunt,

when day-light did appear;

And long before high-noon they had

a hundred fat bucks slain,

Then having din'd the drovers went

to roze them up again.

The bow-men mustred on the hills,

well able to endure,

Their backsides all with special care,

that day were guarded sure.

The hounds ran swiftly thro' the woods,

the nimble deer to take.

And with their cries the hills and dales,

An eccho shrill did make.

Lord Piercy to the quarry went,

to view the tender deer,

Quoth he, Earl Dowglas promised

this day to meet me here:

If that I thought he would not come,

no longer would I stay.

With that a brave young Gentleman,

thus to the Earl did say, 

Lo yonder doth Earl Dowglas come,

his Men in armour bright,

Full twenty hundred Scottish spears

all marching in our sight;

All men of pleasant Tividale,

fast by the river Tweed.

Then cease your sport, Earl Piercy said,

and take your bows with speed:

And now with me, my country men,

your courage forth advance,

For never was their champion yet,

in Scotland or in France,

That ever did on horse-back come,

but since my hap it were,

I durst encounter man for man,

with him to break a spear.

Earl Dowglas on a milk-white steed,

most like a Baron bold,

Rode foremost of the company,

whose armour shone like gold:

Shew me (he said) whose men you be,

that hunt so boldly here,

That without my consent do chase

and kill my fallow-deer?

The Man that first did answer make,

was noble Piercy he,

Who said, We list not to declare,

nor shew whose men we be:

Yet we will spend our dearest blood,

thy chiefest harts to slay.

Then Dowglas swore a solemn oath,

and thus in rage did say,

E're thus I will out-braved be,

one of us two shall dye;

I know thee well, an Earl thou art,

Lord Piercy, so am I:

But trust me, Piercy, pitty it were,

a great offence to kill,

Any of these our harmless men,

for they have done no ill. 

Let thou and I the battel cry,

and set our men aside.

Accurst be he, Lord Piercy said,

by whom this is deny'd.

Then stept a gallant squire forth,

Whitherington was his name,

Who said, I would not have it told,

to Henry our King for shame,

That e're my Captain fought on foot,

and I stood looking on:

You be two Earls, said Whitherington,

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 threescore Scots they slew.

To drive the deer with hound and horn,

Earl Dowglas had the bent.

The captain mov'd with mickle pride,

the spears to shivers sent:

They clos'd full fast on ev'ry side

no slackness there was found,

And many a gallant gentleman

lay gasping on the ground. 

O Christ! it was a grief to see,

and likewise for to hear,

The cries of men lying in their gore,

and scattered here and there:

At last these two stout Earls did meet,

like captains of great might,

Like lions mov'd they laid on load,

and made a cruel fight;

They fought until they both did sweat,

with swords of tempered steel,

Until the blood like drops of rain,

they trickling down did fell:

Yield thee, Lord Piercy, Dowglas, 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 thus report of thee,

Thou art the most couragious Knight

that ever I did see.

To Dowglas, quoth Earl Piercy 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 Dowglas to the heart

a deep and deadly blow;

Who never spoke more words than these,

Fight on my merry men all;

For why, my life is at an end,

Lord Piercy sees my fall.

Then leaving life, Earl Piercy took

the dead man by the hand,

And said, Earl Dowglas, for thy life,

would I had lost my land,

O Christ! my very heart doth bleed,

with sorrow for thy sake,

For sure a more renowned Knight,

mischance did ever take.

A Knight amongst the Scots there was,

which saw Earl Dowglas dye,

Who straight in wrath did vow revenge

upon the Earl Piercy;

Sir Hugh Montgomery was he call'd,

who with a spear most bright,

Well-mounted on a gallant steed,

ran fiercely through the fight,

And past the English archers all,

without all dread and fear,

And through Earl Piercy's body then,

he thrust his hateful spear,

With such a vehement force and might

he did his body gore,

The spear went through the other side

a large cloath-yard and more.

So thus did both these Nobles dye,

whose courage none could stain:

An English archer then perceiv'd

the noble Earl was slain,

He had a bow bent in his hand,

made of a trusty tree,

An arrow of a cloath-yard long,

unto the head drew he,

Against Sir Hugh Montgomery,

so right his shaft he set,

The grey goose-wing that was thereon

in his heart 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 the Earl Piercy there were slain,

Sir John of Ogerton,

Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,

Sir James that bold Baron;

And with Sir George and good Sir James,

both Knights of good account,

Good Sir Ralph Rabby there was slain,

whose prowess did surmount.

For Whitherington needs must I wail,

as one in doleful dumps,

For when his legs were smitten off

he fought upon his stumps.

And with Earl Dowglas there were slain,

Sir Hugh Montgomery,

Sir Charles Currel, that from the field

one foot would never flye:

Sir Charles Murrel of Ratcliff too,

his sister's son was he,

Sir David Lamb so esteem'd,

they saved could not be.

And the Lord Markwell in likewise

did with Earl Dowglas dye;

Of twenty hundred Scottish spears,

scarce fifty five did flye.

Of fifteen hundred English men,

went home but fifty three,

The rest were slain in Chevy-chace

under the green wood tree.

Next day did many widows come,

their husbands to bewail,

They wash'd their wounds in brinish tears,

but all would not prevail:

Their bodies, bath'd in purple blood,

they bore with them away;

They kist them dead a thousand times,

when they were clad in clay.

This news was brought to Edenburgh,

where Scotland's King did reign,

That brave Earl Dowglas suddenly

was with an arrow slain:

O heavy news, King James did say,

Scotland can witness be,

I have not any Captain more,

of such account as he.

Like tydings to King Henry came,

within as short a space,

That Piercy of Northumberland,

was slain in Chevy-chace:

Now God be with him, said our King,

sith 'twill no better be,

I trust I have within my realm,

five hundred as good as he:

Yet shall not Scot nor Scotland say,

but I will vengeance take,

And be revenged on them all,

for brave Lord Piercy's sake.

This vow full well the King perform'd,

after on Humble-down,

In one day fifty Knights were slain,

with Lords of great renown:

And of the rest of small account,

did many thousands dye;

Thus ended the hunting of Chevy-chace,

made by the Earl Piercy.

God save the King, and bless the Land

in plenty, joy, and peace.

And grant henceforth that foul debate

'twixt Noble men may cease.