Then they cast kevils them amang, Which suld gae seek the Queen; And the kevil fell upon Wise William, And he sent his wife for him. XX O when she saw Wise William’s wife, The Queen fell on her knee: ‘Win up, win up, madam!’ she says: ‘What needs this courtesie?’-- XXI ‘O out o’ this I winna rise, Till a boon ye grant to me; To change your lass for this lad bairn, King Honour left me wi’. XXII ‘And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk Right weel to breast a steed; And I sall learn your turtle dow[450] As weel to write and read. XXIII ‘And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk To wield both bow and brand; And I sall learn your turtle dow To lay gowd[451] wi’ her hand. XXIV ‘At kirk and market when we meet, We’ll dare make nae avowe, But--“Dame, how does my gay goss-hawk?” “Madame, how does my dow?”’ XXV When days were gane, and years came on, Wise William he thought lang; And he has ta’en King Honour’s son A-hunting for to gang. XXVI It sae fell out, at this huntìng, Upon a simmer’s day, That they came by a fair castell, Stood on a sunny brae. XXVII ‘O dinna ye see that bonny castell, Wi’ halls and towers sae fair? Gin ilka man had back his ain, Of it you suld be heir.’-- XXVIII ‘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!’-- XXXIII He has set his bent bow to his breast And leaped the castell wa’; And soon he has seized on Fause Foodrage, Wha loud for help ’gan ca’. XXXIV ‘O haud your tongue, now, Fause Foodrage, Frae me ye shanna flee!’-- Syne pierced him through the fause, fause heart, And set his mother free. XXXV And he has rewarded Wise William Wi’ the best half of his land; And sae has he the turtle dow, Wi’ the truth o’ his right hand. FOOTNOTES: [449] kevils = lots. [450] dow = dove. [451] lay gowd = embroider in gold. _71. The Fair Flower of Northumberland_ I