And wichtlie waiffit[285] in the wynd thair heillis,
Hobland lyke cadgeris[286] rydand on thair creillis;
But ather ran at uther with sic haist
That they could never thair speir get in the reist.
Quhen gentill James trowit best with Jhone to meit,
His speir did fald among his horsis feit:
I am richt sure gude James had bene undone,
War nocht that Jhone his marke tuke be the mone.
Quod Jhone, “Howbeit thou thinkis my leggis lyke rokkis[287],
My speir is gude; now keip ye fra my knokkis.”