Furth prickit he throch the wud,

Lyk ane black clud,

In tide tempestive,

Calland loud and hie,

On the woulff ne to flee,
Quhan fleand sikarlie,

He was belive.

Alace in the woulffis mouth,
Borne was the mayd in trouth,
Shrikand delore,

Hir waist jimp and sma,

Crushit was atwixt his jaw,

And hir heid hong law,

Sad thoch decore.

Hir, armis saft and lyte,

And halse ivorie quhyt

Sweepit the grund.

Quhyll hir goun in the wynd,

Trailand wes behind,

Alace! sicht of sic kynd,

Niver was fund.

Wae wes Schir Gormalyn,

Syne neir he ne win,

Albe he straive;

Eftsune his horss coupit
Ouir ane roche knoupit,
To erd Gormalyn loupit,
Deliver and braive.

On feet he swyth ran
Manie ane myl of land,

Nicht and day.

Thorow day he ay saw

Hir sklendir waist in woulffis jaw,

And thorow nicht a mane law,

For mercie alwaie.

Evir the mayd he schuke,
Wi ane feidfou leuk,

Girnand and yamfand.
And quhyl he dois hir dasch,
His teith stikis in hir flesch,

Makand ane deip gasch,

With felloun champand.

Mervailous it was to heir Amangis hillis and heuchis dreir, The maydis mane.

It seemit waneirdlie sound,

Suchand in aire around,

Calculed to astound,

Wi fricht and pain,

Chewand his lippis wi yre,
Gormalyn fers as fyr,

Shoutand persewit,

Bot the Woulff unfoirfairn,
Bure aff the bonnie bairn,
Fleet lyk ane schot stern,
Far frae his bruit.

Doun on the garss grene,
Fawis stout Schir Gormalyn,
In disperaunce;

Forfauchten foirgane,

He list him mak mane,

That the May awa was tane,
In hour wanchance.

Alace! nouthir Tristram,

Nor bauld Schir Gawan,

Launcelot du Lak,

Nor anie perle of hardiment,

Of Chivalric culd schent,

This woulff quha owre the bent, Schupeth his trak.

"Rise up stalwarth schir,"
Spak sune his gude Squier,
As him lay,

"Rise up run and rive,
Lang as ye bene on live,

This woulf, and reprive,
The dulce May.

Here is ane strang drinck,
Famose for hard swynck,

Richt blyth of chere,

Gif it be al dronck,

Thou schall be nevir sonck,

In disperaunce donck,

For ane hail yere.

Airt quhairswaeir thow list,
Natheles will it assist

Thee to run

Owir everilk holt hoar,

Fers as the wud boar,

Lustand annone to gore;

Or lyk the sun,

Rydand in blew skyis,

Throw cluddis of purpour griss,

Swift for to see,”

(Cætera desunt.)

Very little more of the manuscript from which the above is transcribed can be at all legible. Several stanzas seem to relate to the ingredients which composed the sovereign beverage administered to Schir Gormalyn by his Squyer, who, we are elsewhere informed, is "cunnand and lerit in al erbis of erd." From ought that can be perceived, this cordial was of a much more invigorating and wholesome description than that which the lank-jawed knight of La Mancha swallowed after the rib roasting he received from the Yanguesian carriers; for the pursuit after this wolf is continued with fresh ardour, and as might be expected becomes of no ordinary length, being inter

rupted by various causes, such as tourneyis, joustis, and like divertisements met with by the way, in which our Knight hath always to participate.

The description of the Warldis end is perhaps the best part of this curious little romance. Our original is, however, so very much destroyed in this place, that we have deferred till another time giving any part or specimen of it.

This legend has a very tragical catastrophe, which is not generally the case in others of a like nature. It appears that the adventurous knight, having by some means or other succeeded in delivering the damsel from her thirldom dern, in a cave belonging to the Reid Woulff at the

Warldis allutermaist methe,

Fornentis the well of dule and dethe, proceeds in quest of further perils, accompanied by his fair prize, and the worthy Squyer aforesaid. After infinite travel they come into a strange country of a very unpromising aspect, and in which they have not advanced far till they are attacked by a discourteous "Geaunt grit as tre," who, captivated by the Ladyeis mervailous phisnomie

Of beautie rare and courtisie

bethinks him to make a seizure, without much ado. In this his Giantship is miserably deceived, for Schir Gormalyn being a genuine imp of Chivalrie, is not to be subdued or terrified by menace or blow, and accordingly a very furious duel is fought betwixt them. After various "felloun strakis" given and received on both sides, the giant is brought to the ground with a tremendous shock. But strange to tell, while in the act of falling he catches hold of the knight's steed by some of its furniture, and horse and man and all together tumble to the ground. In the affray, the head of the Reid Woulff, which it seems has been suspended somewhere about the horse's neck, becomes disengaged and falls beside the recumbent giant, who, though weak and exhausted by his late exertion seizes the fatal skull and hurls it right in the face of the knight. It unfortunately hits him on the cheek, and the ventale of his helmet being up, one of the Wolf's teeth-"lang, crukit, and of yellow hue on grene," makes a deep incision, and the same being suffused with a mortal poison, which the wolf had been accustomed to imbibe from the black waters of the well of "Dule and Deid," the wound proves fatal, for the knight shortly afterwards dies in the arms of the