Surely while upwards grows the tree;
If you be not traitour to the king,
Forfaulted sall ye never be.’
69.
‘But, prince, what sall come o’ my men?
When I go back, traitour they’ll ca’ me.
I had rather lose my life and land,
Ere my merry men rebukëd me.’
70.
‘Will your merry men amend their lives?