“What news? what news?” said Halliday,
“Man, frae thy master unto me?”
“Not as ye would, seeking your aid;
The King’s his mortal enemie.”
“Ay, by my troth!” said Halliday,
“Even for that it repenteth me;
For gif he lose fair Ettrick Forest,
He’ll tak’ fair Moffatdale frae me.
“I’ll meet him wi’ five hundred men,
And surely mair, if mae may be;