"
Thomas said then with heavy cheer[55],
"Lovely lady, now let me be;
For certes, lady, I have been here 215
Nought but the space of dayes three!"
"For sooth, Thomas, as I thee tell,
Thou hast been here three year and more;
But longer here thou may not dwell;[56]
The skill[57] I shall thee tell wherefore. 220
To-morn[58], of hell the foule fiend
Among this folk will fetch his fee;
And thou art mickle man and hend[59],
I trow full well he would choose thee.
For all the gold that ever may be 225
From hethen[60] unto the worldes end,
Thou beest never betrayed for me;
Therefore with me I rede[61] thou wend."
She brought him again to Eildon tree,
Underneath that greenwood spray. 230
In Huntlie banks is merry to be,
Where fowles sing both night and day.[62]
"Farewell, Thomas, I wend my way,
For me buse[63] over the bentes brown."
--Lo, here a fytte; more is to say[64] 235
All of Thomas of Erceldoune.
* * * * *
REGINALD SCOT
DISCOVERY OF WITCHCRAFT (1584)
_From_ "To the Readers."
I should no more prevail herein [_i.e._ in securing attention] than if a
hundred years since I should have entreated your predecessors to believe,
that Robin Goodfellow, that great and ancient bull-beggar, had been but a
cozening merchant and no devil indeed.
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