"But who is yond, thou lady fair,

That looketh with such an austere face?" "Yonder is Sir John Foster," quoth she, "Alas! he'll do ye sore disgrace."

He pulled his hat down over his brow :
He wept, in his heart he was full of woe;
And he is gone to his noble lord,

Those sorrowful tidings him to show.

"Now nay, now nay, good James Swynard, I may not believe that witch lady; The Douglases were ever true,

And they can ne'er prove false to me.

I have now in Lough-leven been
The most part of these years three,
Yet have I never had no outrake,1
Ne no good games that I could see.

Therefore I'll to yond shooting wend,
As to the Douglas I have hight:
Betide me weal, betide me woe,

He ne'er shall find my promise light."

[Outing, excursion.]

He writhe1 a gold ring from his finger,
And gave it to that gay lady:
Says, "It was all that I could save,

In Harley woods where I could be."

"And wilt thou go, thou noble lord?
Then farewell truth and honesty,

And farewell heart, and farewell hand,
For never more I shall thee see.'

The wind was fair, the boatmen call'd, And all the sailors were on board; Then William Douglas took to his boat, And with him went that noble lord.

Then he cast up a silver wand,

Says, "Gentle lady, fare thee well!" The lady fett a sigh so deep,

And in a dead swoon down she fell.

"Now let us go back, Douglas," he said, "A sickness hath taken yond fair lady; If aught befall yond lady but good,

Then blamed for ever I shall be."

1 [Twisted.]

"Come on, come on, my lord," he says,
"Come on, come on, and let her be;
There's ladies enow in Lough-leven
For to cheer that gay lady."

"If you'll not turn yourself, my lord, with my chamberlain ;

;

Let me go
We will but comfort that fair lady,
And we will return to you again."

"Come on, come on, my lord," he says, "Come on, come on, and let her be; My sister is crafty, and would beguile A thousand such as you and me."

When they had sailed fifty mile,
Now fifty mile upon the sea,

He sent his man to ask the Douglas,
When they should that shooting see.

"Fair words," quoth he, "they make fools fain, And that by thee and thy lord is seen;

You

may hap to think it soon enough,

Ere you that shooting reach, I ween."

Jamie his hat pulled over his brow,

He thought his lord then was betray'd; And he is to Earl Percy again,

To tell him what the Douglas said.

"Hold up thy head, man," quoth his lord, "Nor therefore let thy courage fail ; He did it but to prove thy heart,

To see if he could make it quail.”"

When they had other fifty sailed,
Other fifty mile upon the sea,

Lord Percy called to Douglas himself,

Said, "What wilt thou now do with me?"

"Look that your bridle be wight, my lord,

And your horse go swift as ship at sea; Look that your spurs be bright and sharp,

That you may prick her while she'll away."

"What needeth this, Douglas?" he saith;

66

'What needest thou to flyte with me?

For I was counted a horseman good

Before that ever I met with thee.