Then to the woods all of them fled,
Took sundry ways be’ng sore afraid.
The Prince himself bewilder’d ran,
And with him there was not a man,
Being thus dejected and all alone,
Thro’ the wild woods he made his moan.
While thus he melancholy lay,
MacLeod came past on’s road from Sky;
The Prince cried boldly, What art thou?
And he reply’d, What’s that to you?