English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Traditional Ballads
21. The Battle of Otterburn
I
When the muir-men won their hay,
That the doughty Earl Douglas went
Into England to catch a prey.
With the Lindsays light and gay;
But the Jardines wadna wi him ride,
And they rued it to this day.
And part of Almonshire.
And three good towers on Roxburgh fells
He left them all on fire.
And rode it round about:
“O whae’s the lord of this castle,
Or whae’s the lady o’t?”
And O but he spake hie!
And my wife’s the lady gaye.”
Sae weel it pleases me;
For ere I cross the borden again
The ane of us shall die.”
Was made of the metal free,
And for to meet the Douglas then
He rode most furiously.
Frae off the castle wa,
When down before the Scottish spear
She saw brave Piercy fa!
Frae off the castle hieght,
When she beheld her Piercy yield
To Doughty Douglas’ might!
And never an eye to see,
I should have had ye flesh and fell;
But your sword shall gae wi me.”
And there wait dayes three,
And if I come not ere three days’ end
A fause lord ca ye me.”
’Tis pleasant there to be,
But there is naught at Otterburn
To feed my men and me.
The birds fly wild frae tree to tree,
To fend my men and me.
Where you shall welcome be;
And if ye come not at three days’ end
A coward I’ll ca thee.”
And there wait dayes three;
And if I come not ere three days’ end
A coward ye’s ca me.”
Upon the bent so brown,
They lighted high on Otterburn,
And threw their pallions down.
Sent his horses to grass,
And he that had not a bonny boy,
His ain servant he was.
Before the peep of the dawn;
“O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord,
For Piercy’s hard at hand!”
Sae loud I hear ye lie!
The Piercy hadna men yestreen
To dight my men and me.
Beyond the isle o Sky;
I saw a dead man won the fight,
And I think that man was I.”
And to the field he ran,
And a’ his goodly train.
I wat he was right keen;
They swakked their swords till sair they swat,
And the blood ran them between.
Was made o the metal free,
Has wounded Douglas on the brow
Till backward he did flee.
And said, Run speedily,
And bring my ain dear sister’s son,
Sir Hugh Montgomery.
His heart was wonder wae:
“Now, by my sword, that haughty lord
Shall rue before he gae.”
“What boots the death of ane?
Last night I dreamed a dreary dream,
And I ken the day’s thy ain.
Beyond the isle o Sky,
When lo! a dead man wan the field,
And I thought that man was I.
Nae mair I’ll fighting see;
Gae lay me in the breaken bush
That grows on yonder lee.
That I lye bleeding wan,
Be shouted in the van.
Beneath the blooming briar,
And never let a mortal ken
A kindly Scot lyes here.”
Wi the saut tear in his ee,
And hid him in the breaken bush,
On yonder lily lee.
The spears in flinters flew,
But mony gallant Englishman
Ere day the Scotsman slew.
Thro all the field in sight,
And loud the name of Douglas still
He urgd wi a’ his might.
They steeped their hose and shoon,
The Lindsays flew like fire about,
Till a’ the fray was doon.]
I wat he was right fain;
They swakked their swords till sair they swat,
And the blood ran down like rain.
“O yield, or ye shall die!”
“Fain wad I yield,” proud Piercy said,
“But neer to loun like thee.”
Nor shalt thou yield to me;
That grows on yonder lee.”
Nor will I yield to thee;
But I will yield to Lord Douglas,
Or sir Hugh Montgomery.”
He fell low on his knee,
But soon he raisd him up again,
Wi mickle courtesy.]
That he hadna either killd or taen
Ere his heart’s blood was cauld.