‘Wallace,’ he said, ‘thow has done me gret scaith;
‘My rycht fadyr and grant schyr thow slew baith.’
Than Wallace said; “For stait at thow art in,
“It war my det for till wndo thi kyn.
“I think als, sa God off hewin me saiff!465
“At my twa handis sall graith the to thi graiff.”
The Butler said; ‘That is nocht likly now:
‘In my credence and thow will fermly trow,
‘Off this I ask and thow will mak me grant,
‘Quhat I the hecht, that thing thow sall nocht want.’470