24.
‘He’ll hang thy merry men pair by pair
In ony frith where he may them find.’
‘Aye, by my troth!’ the Outlaw said,
‘Than wad I think me far behind.
25.
‘Ere the king my fair countrie get,
This land that ‘s nativest to me,
Mony o’ his nobles sall be cauld,
Their ladyes sall be right wearie.’