| |
| IT 1 fell about the Lammas 2 tide, | |
| When the muir-men win their hay, | |
| The doughty Douglas bound him to ride | |
| Into England, to drive a prey. | |
| |
| He chose the Gordons and the Graemes, | 5 |
| With them the Lindsays, light and gay; | |
| But the Jardines wad not with him ride, | |
| And they rue it to this day. | |
| |
| And he has burn’d the dales of Tyne, | |
| And part of Bambroughshire: | 10 |
| And three good towers on Reidswire fells, | |
| He left them all on fire. | |
| |
| And he march’d up to Nèwcastle, | |
| And rode it round about: | |
| ‘O wha’s the lord of this castle? | 15 |
| Or wha’s the lady o’t?’ | |
| |
| But up spake proud Lord Percy then, | |
| And O but he spake hie! | |
| ‘I am the lord of this castle, | |
| My wife’s the lady gaye.’ | 20 |
| |
| ‘If thou’rt the lord of this castle, | |
| Sae weel it pleases me! | |
| For, ere I cross the Border fells, | |
| The tane of us sall die.’ | |
| |
| He took a lang spear in his hand, | 25 |
| Shod with the metal free, | |
| And for to meet the Douglas there, | |
| He rode right furiouslie. | |
| |
| But O how pale his lady look’d, | |
| Frae aff the castle wa’, | 30 |
| When down, before the Scottish spear, | |
| She saw proud Percy fa’. | |
| |
| ‘Had we twa been upon the green, | |
| And never an eye to see, | |
| I wad hae had you, flesh and fell; | 35 |
| But your sword sall gae wi’ mee.’ | |
| |
| ‘But gae ye up to Otterbourne, | |
| And wait there dayis three; | |
| And, if I come not ere three dayis end, | |
| A fause knight ca’ ye me.’ | 40 |
| |
| ‘The Otterbourne’s a bonnie burn; | |
| ’Tis pleasant there to be; | |
| But there is nought at Otterbourne, | |
| To feed my men and me. | |
| |
| ‘The deer rins wild on hill and dale, | 45 |
| The birds fly wild from tree to tree; | |
| But there is neither bread nor kale, | |
| To fend my men and me. | |
| |
| ‘Yet I will stay at Otterbourne, | |
| Where you shall welcome be; | 50 |
| And, if ye come not at three dayis end, | |
| A fause lord I’ll ca’ thee.’ | |
| |
| ‘Thither will I come,’ proud Percy said, | |
| ‘By the might of Our Ladye!’ | |
| ‘There will I bide thee,’ said the Douglas, | 55 |
| ‘My troth I plight to thee.’ | |
| |
| They lighted high on Otterbourne, | |
| Upon the bent sae brown; | |
| They lighted high on Otterbourne, | |
| And threw their pallions down. | 60 |
| |
| And he that had a bonnie boy, | |
| Sent out his horse to grass, | |
| And he that had not a bonnie boy, | |
| His ain servant he was. | |
| |
| But up then spake a little page, | 65 |
| Before the peep of dawn: | |
| ‘O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord, | |
| For Percy’s hard at hand.’ | |
| |
| ‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye liar loud! | |
| Sae loud I hear ye lie; | 70 |
| For Percy had not men yestreen, | |
| To dight my men and me. | |
| |
| ‘But I have dream’d a dreary dream, | |
| Beyond the Isle of Sky; | |
| I saw a dead man win a fight, | 75 |
| And I think that man was I.’ | |
| |
| He belted on his guid braid sword, | |
| And to the field he ran; | |
| But he forgot the helmet good, | |
| That should have kept his brain. | 80 |
| |
| When Percy wi’ the Douglas met, | |
| I wat he was fu’ fain! | |
| They swakked their swords, till sair they swat, | |
| And the blood ran down like rain. | |
| |
| But Percy with his good broad sword, | 85 |
| That could so sharply wound, | |
| Has wounded Douglas on the brow, | |
| Till he fell to the ground. | |
| |
| Then he call’d on his little foot-page, | |
| And said—‘Run speedilie, | 90 |
| And fetch my ain dear sister’s son, | |
| Sir Hugh Montgomery. | |
| |
| ‘My nephew good,’ the Douglas said, | |
| ‘What recks the death of ane! | |
| Last night I dream’d a dreary dream, | 95 |
| And I ken the day’s thy ain. | |
| |
| ‘My wound is deep; I fain would sleep; | |
| Take thou the vanguard of the three, | |
| And hide me by the braken bush, | |
| That grows on yonder lilye lee. | 100 |
| |
| ‘O bury me by the braken-bush, | |
| Beneath the blooming brier; | |
| Let never living mortal ken | |
| That ere a kindly Scot lies here.’ | |
| |
| He lifted up that noble lord, | 105 |
| Wi’ the saut tear in his e’e; | |
| He hid him in the braken bush, | |
| That his merry men might not see. | |
| |
| The moon was clear, the day drew near, | |
| The spears in flinders flew, | 110 |
| But mony a gallant Englishman | |
| Ere day the Scotsmen slew. | |
| |
| The Gordons good, in English blood, | |
| They steep’d their hose and shoon; | |
| The Lindsays flew like fire about, | 115 |
| Till all the fray was done. | |
| |
| The Percy and Montgomery met, | |
| That either of other were fain; | |
| They swapped swords, and they twa swat, | |
| And aye the blood ran down between. | 120 |
| |
| ‘Now yield thee, yield thee, Percy,’ he said, | |
| ‘Or else I vow I’ll lay thee low!’ | |
| ‘To whom must I yield,’ quoth Earl Percy, | |
| ‘Now that I see it must be so?’ | |
| |
| ‘Thou shalt not yield to lord nor loun, | 125 |
| Nor yet shalt thou yield to me; | |
| But yield thee to the braken-bush, | |
| That grows upon yon lilye lee!’ | |
| |
| ‘I will not yield to a braken-bush, | |
| Nor yet will I yield to a brier; | 130 |
| But I would yield to Earl Douglas, | |
| Or Sir Hugh the Montgomery, if he were here.’ | |
| |
| As soon as he knew it was Montgomery, | |
| He struck his sword’s point in the gronde; | |
| The Montgomery was a courteous knight, | 135 |
| And quickly took him by the honde. | |
| |
| This deed was done at Otterburne, | |
| About the breaking of the day; | |
| Earl Douglas was buried at the braken bush, | |
| And the Percy led captive away. | 140 |
