Two hunder men in his cumpanie.
18
‘This night an they lay hands on us,
This night, as I think weel it will be,
This night sall be our lyke-wake night,
The morn like as mony dogs we’ll die.’
19
‘My mare is young, and vera young,
And in o the weel she will drown me;’
‘But ye’ll take mine, and I’ll take thine,