‘Oh woe be to young women’s wit!
For the’ve bred to me meikle sorrow;
She promisd for to meet me here,
An she’s sent nine men to slay me.
4
‘But there is two swords in my scabba[rd],
They cost me gold and money;
Tak ye the best, and I’ll tak the wa[rst],
An come man for man, I’ll not fly yo.’
5