The REID-SQUAIR. 17 The uther anſwering him full vainly,
begouth to reckon kin and blude. he raiſe and raxd him quhair he ſtude,
And had him match him with his marrows:
then Tyndall hard theſe reſouns rude,
And they lute aff a flicht of arrows.
X.
Then was ther nocht but bow and ſpeir,
and ilka man pullit out ane brand,
A Schaften and a Fennick their,
gude Symmington was ſlain frae hand. the Scotiſmen cryd on uther to ſtand,
Frae tyme they ſaw John Robſon ſlain:
quhat ſuld they cry! the Kings command
Culd cauſe nae cowards turn again.
XI.
Up raiſe the laird to red the cumber,
quhilk wald not be for all his boiſt,
Quhat ſuld we do with ſic a number,
fyve thouſand men into ane hoiſt? then Henrie Purdie proud hes coſt,
And verie narrowlie had miſchiefd him,
and ther we had our Warden loſt,
Wart not the grit GOD he releiyd him.
XII.
Ane uther throw the breiks him bair,
quhyle flatlines to the ground he fell:
