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• O Christ! my very heart doih bleed
With sorrow for thy sake;
Mischance did never take.'
A knight amongst the Scots there was,
Which saw earl Douglas die, Who straight in wrath did vow revenge
Upon the earl Percy.
Sir Hugh Montgomery he was call'd;
Who, with a spear most bright, Well mounted on a gallant steed,
Ran fiercely through the fight :
And pass'd the English archers all,
Without all dread or fear;
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 cloth-yard, and more.
So thus did both these nobles die,
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;
Up to the head drew he:
Against Sir Hugh Montgomery
So right the shaft he set,
In his heart-blood was wet..
This fight did last from break of day
Till setting of the sun ;
The battle scarce was done.
With the earl Percy there was slain
Sir John of Ogerton,
Sir James that bold baron:
And with sir George, and good 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 ;
He fought upon his stumps.
And with earl Douglas there was slain
Sir Hugh Montgomery;
One foot would never fly;
Sir Charles Murrél of Ratcliffe too,
His sister's son was he :
Yet saved could not be.
And the lord Maxwell, in like wise,
Did with earl Douglas die :
Scarce fifty-five did fly.
of fifteen hundred Englishmen
Went home but fifty-three;
Under the greenwood-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, bathed in purple blood,
They bore with them away; They kiss'd them dead a thousand times,
When they were clad in clay.
This news was brought to Edinburgh,
Where Scotland's king did reign, That brave earl Douglas 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 tidings to king Henry came,
Within as short a space,
Was slain in Chevy Chase.
Now God be with him," said our king,
Sith 'twill no better be;
Five hundred good as he.
But I will vengeance take;
For brave lord Percy's sake.'
After, on Humbledown,
With lords of great renown:
Did many hundreds die.
Made by the earl Percy.
In plenty, joy, and peace;
RICHARD PLANTAGENET. * The work is done, the structure is complete.
Long may this produce of my humble toil Uninjur'd stand : and echo long repeat,
Round the dear walls, Benevolence and Moyle*!!
* Sir Thomas Moyle, possessor of Eastwell-place, in the county of Kent, in the year 1546, gave Richard Plantagenet, who for many years had been his chief bricklayer, a piece of
So Richard spake, as he survey'd
The dwelling he had rais'd; And, in the fullness of his heart,
His generous patron prais'd.
Him Moyle o’erheard, whose wand'ring step
Chance guided had that way;
Then earnest thus did say:
‘My mind, I see, misgave me not,
My doubtings now are clear, Thou oughtest not, in poor attire,
Have dwelt a menial here,
• To drudgery and servile toil,
Thou couldst not be decreed
By hard o'er-ruling need.
• Is it not so ? That crimson glow,
That flushes o'er thy cheek,
And thy tongue need not speak.
Oft bave I mark'd thee, when unseen
Thou thought'st thyself by all, What time the workman from his task
The evening bell did call ;
ground, and permission to build himself a house thereon. The poem opens, just when Richard is supposed to have finished this task. Eastwell-place bath since been in the possession of the earls of Winchelsea.