So thus did both these nobles die,
Whose courage none could stain;
An English archer then perceived
Their noble earl was slain :

He had a bow bent in his hand,
Made of a trusty tree;
An arrow of a cloth-yard long
Up to the head drew he:

Against Sir Hugh Montgomery
So right the 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 rang the evening-bell,
The battle scarce was done.

With brave Earl Percy there was slain
Sir John of Ogerton,

Sir Robert Ratcliffe, and Sir John,
Sir James, that bold baron:

And with Sir George and stout 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 ;
For when his legs were smitten off,
He fought upon his stumps.

And with Earl Douglas there was slain
Sir Hugh Montgomery ;

Sir Charles Currel, that from the field
One foot would never flee.

Sir Charles Murray of Ratcliffe, too,
His sister's son was he;

Sir David Lamb, so well esteemed,
Yet saved could not be.

And the Lord Maxwell, in like wise,
Did with Earl Douglas die
Of twenty hundred Scottish spears,
Scarce fifty-five did fly.

Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
Went home but fifty-three:
The rest were slain in Chevy Chase,
Under the greenwood tree.

Next day did many widows come,
Their husbands to bewail;

They washed their wounds in brinish tears,
But all would not prevail.

Their bodies, bathed in purple blood,

They bore with them away;

They kissed 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.

"Oh 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,

That Percy of Northumberland

Was slain in Chevy Chase.

"Now God be with him!" said our king,

"Sith 'twill no better be;

I trust I have within my realm,
Five hundred good as he.

"Yet shall not Scot or Scotland say,

But I will vengeance take;

I'll be revengèd on them all,
For brave Lord Percy's sake."

This vow full well the king performed,
After, on Humbledown:

In one day fifty knights were slain,
With lords of great renown.

And of the rest of small account,
Did many hundreds die :

Thus ending the hunting of Chevy Chase

Made by the Lord Percy.

God save our king! and bless this land In plenty, joy, and peace;

And grant, henceforth, that foul debate 'Twixt noble men may cease.

THE BANISHMENT OF BOLINGBROKE, AFTERWARDS KING HENRY IV. A.D. 1398.

(SCENE-The King's palace. Present KING RICHARD II., JOHN OF GAUNT, ATTENDANTS, &c.)

K. Rich. Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster, Hast thou, according to thy oath and bond, Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son ; Here to make good the charge he lately urged Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray ? Gaunt. I have, my liege.

(Enter BOLINGBROKE and NORFOLK.)

Bol. May many years of happy days befall
My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege !
Nor. Each day surpass the last one's happiness;
Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap,

Add an immortal title to your crown!

K. Rich. We thank you both; yet one but flatters us, As plainly shows the cause for which you come, Which is to charge each other with high treason.Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray ?

Bol. First,-Heaven be the witness of my speech !— With the devotion of a subject's love,

Tendering the precious safety of my prince,
And free from malice and unworthy hate,
Come I appellant to this princely presence.
Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
And mark my greeting well; for what I speak
My body shall make good upon this earth,

Or my divine soul answer it in heaven.
Thou art a traitor, and a miscreant ;
Too good to be so, and too bad to live.

Nor. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal: 'Tis not the trial of a woman's war,

The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,

Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain :
The blood is hot that must be cooled for this.
But let him be no kinsman to my liege,
I do defy him, and I spit at him;

Call him a slanderous coward and a villain.
By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie.

Bol. Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, Disclaiming here my kindred to the king ;

If guilty dread hath left thee so much strength,
Stoop and pick up my honour's precious pledge.

Nor. I take it up; and, by that sword I swear,
Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder,
I'll answer thee in any fair degree,

Or chivalrous design of knightly trial;

And, when I mount, alive may I not light,
If I be traitor, or unjustly fight.

In earnest haste most heartily I pray

Your highness to assign our trial-day.

K. Rich. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me;

Let's purge this choler without letting blood:
This we prescribe, though no physician;
Deep malice makes too deep incision;
Forget, forgive; conclude, and be agreed;
Our doctors say, this is no time to bleed.—
Good uncle, let this end where it begun ;
We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you, your son.
Gaunt. To be a make-peace shall become my age.-