O laith, laith, were our gude Scots lords
To weet their cork-heel'd shoon!
But lang or a' the play was play'd,
They wat their hats aboon.
And mony was the feather-bed,
That flattered[[82]] on the faem;
And mony was the gude lord's son,
That never mair cam hame.
The ladyes wrang their fingers white,