The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, with memoir of the author.

330 APPENDIX TO
They hurled her forth against her will,
Whiles they came into a hill
A little fio the street.1
And there she made them such a fray,
If they should live to Doomes-day,
They tharrow 2 it ne'er forgett;
She braded 3 upon every side,
And ran on them gaping full wide,
For nothing would she lett.4
She gave such brades 5 at the band
That Peter Dale had in his hand,
He might not hold his feet.
She chafed them to and fio,
The wight men was never soe woe,
Their measure was not so meete.
She bound her boldly to abide;
To Peter Dale she came aside,
With many a hideous yell;
She gaped soe wide and cried soe hee,
The Fryar seid, " I conjure thee,6
Thou art a fiend of hell.
" Thou art come hither for some traine,7
I conjure thee to go againe
Where thou wast wont to dwell."
He sayned 8 him with crosse and creede,
Tock forth a book, began to reade
In St John his gospell.
The sew she would not Latin heare,
But rudely rushed at the Frear,
That blinked all his blee; 9'Watling Street. See the sequel. —2 Dare. —s3 Rushed.4 Leave it.-5 Pulls. —6 This line is wanting in Mr. Whitaker's
copy, whence it has been conjectured that something is
wanting after this stanza, which now there is no occasion to
suppose.-7 Evil device. —s8 Blessed. Fr.-9 Lost his colour.