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They clos'd full fast on ev'ry side, No Slackness there was found. And many a gallant Gentleman Lay gasping on the Ground. With that there came an Arrow keen Out of an English Bow, Which struck Earl Dowglas to the Heart A deep and deadly Blow. AEneas was wounded after the same Manner by an unknown Hand in the midst of a Parly.
Earl Dowglas on a milk-white Steed, Most like a Baron bold, Rode foremost of the Company, Whose Armour shone like Gold. Turnus ut antevolans tardum precesserat agmen, &c. Vidisti, quo Turnus equo, quibus ibat in armis Aureus ... Our English Archers bent their Bows Their Hearts were good and true; At the first Flight of Arrows sent, Full threescore Scots they slew.
The folk upon the Sonounday Held to Saynct Bridis kyrk thair way, And tha that in the castell war Ischyt owt, bath les and mar, And went thair palmys for to her; Owtane a cuk and a porter. James off Dowglas off thair cummyng, And quhat thai war, had witting; And sped him till the kyrk in hy Bot or he come, too hastily Ane off his criyt, "Dowglas! Dowglas!"
Thomas Dicson, that nerrest was Till thaim that war off the castell, That war all innouth the chancell, Quhen he "Dowglas!" swa hey herd cry, Drew owt his swerd; and fellely Ruschyt amang thaim to and fra. Bot ane or twa, for owtyn ma, Than in hy war left lyand Quhill Dowglas come rycht at hand. And then enforcyt on thaim the cry.
... Vocat ingenti Clamore Cithseron Taygetique canes, domitrixque Epidaurus equorum: Et vox assensu nemorum ingeminata remugit. Lo, yonder doth Earl Dowglas come, His Men in Armour bright; Full twenty Hundred Scottish Spears, All marching in our Sight. All Men of pleasant Tividale, Fast by the River Tweed, etc.
Ibid. p. 29. No. Edited by John Jamieson, D.D. F.R.S.F. &c. &c. Now takis James his waige Towart Dowglas, his heretage, With twa yemen, for his owtyn ma; That wes a symple stuff to ta, A land or a castell to win.
And with Earl Dowglas there was slain Sir Hugh Montgomery, Sir Charles Carrel, that from the Field One Foot would never fly: Sir Charles Murrel of Ratcliff too, His Sister's Son was he; Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd, Yet saved could not be.
And Dowglas, that thar with him had A gret mengye, full egrely Assaylyt, and scalyt thaim hastyly: And in schort tyme ourraid thaim swa, That weile nane eschapyt thaim fra. Thyrwall, that wes thair capitane, Wes thar in the bargane slane: And off his men the mast party. The lave fled full effraytly.
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