‘This day for me, in faith, he beis nocht socht.’
Quhen Wallas thus this worthi werk had wrocht,
Thar horss he tuk, and ger that lewyt was thar;435
Gaif our that crafft, he yeid to fysche no mar;
[Went till his eyme, and tauld him of this dede.]
And he for wo weyle ner worthit to weide;
And said; “Sone, thir tythingis syttis me sor;
“And be it knawin, thow may tak scaith tharfor.”440
‘Wncle,’ he said, ‘I will no langar byde;
‘Thir Southland horss latt se gif I can ride.’