“Ane Ersche mantill it war thi kynd to wer;
“A Scottis thewtill wndyr thi belt to ber;
“Rouch rewlyngis apon thi harlot fete.
“Gyff me thi knyff; quhat dois thi ger so mete?”220
Till him he yeid, his knyff to tak him fra.
Fast by the collar Wallace couth him ta;
Wndyr his hand the knyff he bradit owt,
For all his men that semblyt him about:
Bot help him selff he wsyt of no remede;225
With out reskew he stekyt him to dede.