He knelit lowlie on his kné.
"Wellcum, James Boyd!" seyd our nobil king;
"What Foreste is Ettricke Foreste frie?"
"Ettricke Foreste is the feirest foreste
That evir man saw wi' his e'e.
"There's the dae, the rae, the hart, the hynde,
And of a' wild beastis grete plentie;
There's a pretty castell of lyme and stane;
O gif it stands not pleasauntlie!
"There's in the forefront o' that castell,