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4 EARL RICHARD.
" The very sole o' that lady's foot s
Than thy face is far mair white:"
" But, nevertheless, now, Erl Richard, Ye will bide in my bower a' night ? "
She birled him with the ale and wine,
As they sat down to sup : 10
A living man he laid him down, But I wot he ne'er rose up.
Then up and spake the popinjay,
That flew aboun her head ; " Lady! keep weel your green cleiding u
Frae gude Erl Richard's bleid."—
" O better I'll keep my green cleiding Frae gude Erl Richard's bleid,
Than thou canst keep thy clattering toung, That trattles in thy head." 20
She has call'd upon her bower maidens, She has call'd them ane by ane ;
" There lies a dead man in my bour : I wish that he were gane !"
They hae booted him, and spurred him, «
As he was wont to ride;— A hunting-horn tied round his waist,
A sharpe sword by his side; |
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