O then out spoke her Lady Frendraught,
And loudly did she cry;
‘It were great pity for good Lord John,
But none for Rothiemay;
But the keys are casten in the deep draw-well,
Ye cannot get away.’
XIII
While he stood in this dreadful plight,
Most piteous to be seen,
There callèd out his servant Gordon,
As he had frantic been:
XIV
‘O loup, O loup, my dear master!
O loup and come to me!
I’ll catch you in my arms twa,
One foot I will not flee.
XV
‘O loup, O loup, my dear master!
O loup and come away!
I’ll catch you in my arms twa,
But Rothiemay may lie.’—
XVI
‘The fish shall never swim in the flood,
Nor corn grow through the clay,
Nor the fiercest fire that ever was kindled
Twin[1266] me and Rothiemay.