“Twenty shillingis,” Wallace said, “thow sall haiff;445
“I will haiff mer, pycharis and als the laiff.
“Thi gowne and hoiss in haist thow put off syne,
“And mak a chang, for I sall geyff the myne;
“And thi ald hud, becauss it is thred bar.”
The man wend weyll that he had scornyt him thar.450
“Do, tary nocht, it is suth I the say.”
The man kest off his febill weid off gray,
And Wallace his, and payit siluer in hand.
“Pass on,” he said, “thou art a proud merchand.”