6
Had laid bold Clifford on the field,
With most part of his men.
But ere they reach'd the king again,
The English van was come
To view the field on their south front,
Led by the fam'd Bohun.
The king, afraid they should perceive
His crafty trap too soon,
Across the field in person rode
On purpose to be known.
Then Bohun, on a courser bright,
In furious rage came on,
Seeing the king so poorly clad,
And by himself alone.
The king perceiving well his aim,
Soon check'd his horse aside,
And struck him with his battle axe,
His helmet could not bide;
It clove him to the very teeth,
The blood and brains out flew;
Bohun fell gasping to the ground,
In both the armies' view.
With prayers, and hymns, and orisons,
Scots camp that night did ring,
While English oaths, from side to side,
For sweet revenge did spring.
Both armies long'd for break of day,
Although the night was short,
The Scots took solemn sacrament
Before the bloody sport:
The first charge on the left began,
The English horse took flight,
Where hundreds tumbled in the ditch,
To Scots a pleasant sight.
