Page:Sir Neil & Glengyle.pdf/3

Rh What ails, what alls my dearest friend? Why want ye to destroy me; I want no flattery, base Sir Neil, But draw yoor sword and try me. Why should I fight with you M’Van, You ne’er hare me offended; And if I aught to yon have done. I’ll own my fault and mend it?

Is this your boasted courage knave, Who would not now despise thee! But if you still refuse to fight, I’ll like a dog chastise thee. Forbear, fond fool, tempt not thy fate Persume not now to strike me. There’s not a man in all Scotland, Can yield the broad sword like me.

Combined with guilt thy wond’rous skill, From fate shall not defend thee My sister’s wrongs shall brace my arm. This stroke to death shall send thee.