All with that warlock went:
Out of their throats they shot on other
Het, molten gold, me thocht, a futher[131]
As fire-flaucht maist fervent;
Aye as they toomit them of shot,
Fiends filled them new up to the throat
With gold of all kind prent.[132]
VII.
Syne Sweirness, at the second bidding,
Came like a sow out of a midding,