And he has leap'd twentie lang feet and three,
And on his ain sword's point he lap,
And dead upon the grund fell he.
'Twas then came up Sir Robert Bewick,
And his brave son alive saw he;
"Rise up, rise up, my son," he said,
"For I think ye hae gotten the victorie."
"O hald your tongue, my father dear!
"Of your prideful talking let me be!
"Ye might hae drunken your wine in peace,