Then up and raise him, King Honour,
Says—‘What means a’ this din?
Or what’s the matter, Fause Foodrage,
Or wha has loot you in?’—
IX
‘O ye my errand weel sall learn,
Before that I depart.’—
Then drew a knife, baith lang and sharp,
And pierced him to the heart.
X
Then up and got the Queen hersell,
And fell low down on her knee,
‘O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage!
For I never injured thee.
XI
‘O spare my life, now, Fause Foodrage!
Until I lighter be!
And see gin it be lad or lass,
King Honour has left me wi’.’—
XII
‘O gin it be a lass,’ he says,
‘Weel nursèd it sall be;
But gin it be a lad bairn,
He sall be hangèd hie.