45
‘Come hether, Peter Simond,’ said my lord Charles Howward,
‘Letes se thi word standis in steede;
On my mayn-mast-tre thowe must be hunge,
If thowe misse three mill a penney breed.’
46
Petter was ould, his hart was bould;
He tooke a peece frome hie and laid hir beloue;
He put in a chean of yeard[ë]s nine,
Besides all other greate shoote and smalle.