And ſaith to hir, “qwheyar if yone bee
[1188] Our preſoner, my consell Is we see.”
who takes a torch, and they go to the stable,
With that the maden In hir hand hath ton
O torche, and to the ſtabille ar thei gon;
and find his steed wounded.
And fond his ſted lying at the ground,
[1192] Wich wery was, ywet with mony wounde.
The maden ſaith, “vpone this horß is ſen,
He in the place quhar strokis was hath beñ;