Rycht glaid to leif in lie[1268].
“Fy, theif, for schame!” sayis littill Sym,
“Will thow nocht fecht with me?
Thow art moir lerge of lyth[1269] and lym
Nor I am, be sic thre[1270].”
And all the feild cryd fy on him,
Sa cowartly tuk the fle[1271]
For feir,
Vp at Dalkeyth that day.
Than every man gaif Will a mok[1272],