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 48 BALLADS

With fifteen hundred bow-men bold,

All chosen men of might, Who knew full well in time of neede

To ayme their shafts aright.

The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran,

To chase the fallow deere : On Monday they began to hunt,

Ere daylight did appeare ;

And long before high noone they had An hundred fat buckes slaine ;

Then having dined, the drovyers went To rouse the deere againe.

The bow-men mustered on the hills,

Well able to endure ; Their backsides all, with special care

That day were guarded sure.

The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,

The nimble deere to take, And with their cryes the hills and dales

An echo shrill did make.

Lord Percy to the quarry went, To view the slaughtered deere :

Quoth he, ' Erie Douglas promised This day to meet me here,

But if I thought he wold not come,

No longer wold I stay. ' With that, a brave younge gentleman

Thus to the Erie did say:

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