238
And quhan this gallant cumpanye auld Askelon had nearit,
The wan mu ne had gane fra the lift, and the grai daylight apperit.
Then did they count thair numberis, and thay countit wyse and true,
And everilk ane was thair convenit bot and the dark Syr Hew;
But in the press his horse was kythit wi' ane saddil toom and bare;
Och and alace, its maister sure liggis in som lanelie lair.
Back hae thay ridden league and myl, but nevir Syr Hew thai see;
Back hae thay ridden league and myl til quhare that lodge suld be;
Och and alace, nae lodge is thair, nouthir of stane nor wud,
But quhair it was lay the dark Syr Hew amid thick clotterit blude.
His lyre was wan, his teeth were clenchit, and his eyne did open stare,
