6
‘But if it be fase, my little boy,
But and a lie that thou tells me,
On the highest tree that’s in Otterburn
With my ain hands I’ll hing thee high.’
7
The boy’s taen out his little penknife,
That hanget low down by his gare,
And he gaed Earl Douglass a deadly wound,
Alack! a deep wound and a sare.