‘How I suld be heir of that castell,
In sooth, I canna see;
For it belangs to Fause Foodrage,
And he is na kin to me.’—
XXIX
‘O gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage,
You would do but what was right;
For I wot he kill’d your father dear,
Or ever ye saw the light.
XXX
‘And gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage,
There is no man durst you blame;
For he keeps your mother a prisoner,
And she darna take ye hame.’—
XXXI
The boy stared wild like a gray goss-hawk;
Says—‘What may a’ this mean?’—
‘My boy, ye are King Honour’s son,
And your mother’s our lawful Queen.’—
XXXII
‘O gin I be King Honour’s son,
By Our Ladye I swear,
This night I will that traitor slay,
And relieve my mother dear!’—