The civele weir misgydis everilk oist[82];
Thare is nocht ellis bot ilk[83] man for hym-self;
That garris me go, thus baneist lyke ane elf.
“Tharefor, adew: I may no langer tarye.”
“Fair weill,” quod I, “and with sanct Jhone to borrow[84]!”
Bot, wyt ye weill, my hart was wounder sarye[85]
Quhen Comounweill so sopit[86] was in sorrow.
“Yit efter the nycht cumis the glaid morrow;
Quharefor, I pray yow, schaw me in certane
Quhen that ye purpose for to cum agane.”