And him dispysyt in thar langage als;
‘Ye Scottis,’ thai said, ‘has euir yeit beyne fals.’
Wallace tuk ane on the face in his teyn
With his gud hand, quhill ness, mouth, and eyn,170
Throuch the braith blaw, all byrstyt owt off blud;
Butless to ground he smat him quhar he stud.
The tothir hynt to Wallace in that sted;
For weill he wend his falow had beyne ded.
And he agayn in greiff him grippyt sayr,175
Quhill spretis failyeid ner; he mycht do no mayr.