The bowmen mustered on the hills,
    Well able to endure;
  And all their rear, with special care,
    That day was guarded sure.

  The hounds ran swiftly through the woods
    The nimble deer to take,
  That with their cries the hills and dales
    An echo shrill did make.

  Lord Piercy to the quarry went,
    To view the slaughtered deer;
  Quoth he, “Earl Douglas promised
    This day to meet me here;

  “But if 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 Douglas come,—­
    His men in armor bright;
  Full twenty hundred Scottish spears
    All marching in our sight;

  “All men of pleasant Tividale,
    Fast by the river Tweed;”
  “Then cease your sports,” Earl Piercy said,
    “And take your bows with speed;

  “And now with me, my countrymen,
    Your courage forth advance;
  For never was there champion yet,
    In Scotland or in France,

  “That ever did on horseback come,
    But if my hap it were,
  I durst encounter man for man,
    With him to break a spear.”

  Earl Douglas on his milk-white steed,
    Most like a baron bold,
  Rode foremost of his company,
    Whose armor shone like gold.

  “Show me,” said he, “whose men you be,
    That hunt so boldly here,
  That, without my consent, do chase
    And kill my fallow-deer.”

  The first man that did answer make,
    Was noble Piercy, he—­
  Who said, “We list not to declare,
    Nor show whose men we be: 

  “Yet will we spend our dearest blood
    Thy chiefest harts to slay.” 
  Then Douglas swore a solemn oath,
    And thus in rage did say:—­

  “Ere thus I will out-braved be,
    One of us two shall die;
  I know thee well, an earl thou art,—­
    Lord Piercy, so am I.

  “But trust me, Piercy, pity it were,
    And great offence, to kill
  Any of these our guiltless men,
    For they have done no ill.

  “Let you and me the battle try,
    And set our men aside.” 
  “Accursed be he,” Earl Piercy said,
    “By whom this is denied.”

  Then stepped a gallant squire forth,
    Witherington was his name,
  Who said, “I would not have it told
    To Henry, our king, for shame,

  “That e’er my captain fought on foot,
    And I stood looking on. 
  You two be earls,” said Witherington,
    “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 fourscore Scots they slew.