My flyting,[156] sir, shall never be ended;
But wald your Grace my counsel tak,
Ane proclamation ye should mak,
Baith through the land and burrowstouns,[157]
To shaw their face and cut their gowns.
Women will say this is nae bourds,[158]
To write sic vile and filthy words.
But wald they clenge[159] their filthy tails
Whilk over the mires and middens trails,
Then should my writing clengit be;