Explore "The Fee" by David Rorie on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ In the heicht o' the foray / Sir Raif got a clour, / Sir Raif the regairdless, / In battle sae dour. / O cleanly the saddle / They ca'ed him attour!
Then aid for his wounds / He did sairly beseech, / An' aff to the greenwood / In shade o' a beech / They hurried auld Simon / The kintra-side's leech.
Wi' a tow roon' his neck / Simon knelt on his knee, / An' he saw as he glow'red / Wi' the tail o' his e'e / That armed men held it / Owre bough o' the tree.
"Noo, Simon, to heal / Is your trade, no' to kill," / Quo' Sir Raif, "An' though, mark ye, / We dootna your skill, / Grup the tow, knaves! If need be / Pull up wi' a will!"
"But what o' my fee, / Noo I ask ye, Sir Raif ?" / "Gin I live, Master Simon, / I'll wager it's safe! / There! Laugh not, ye villains, / His neck ye may chafe!"
O stanched was the blue blude / That ran on the grass, / Sae eident was Simon / His skill to surpass, / Sir Raif was in fair way / His foes to harass.
An' the fee they gae Simon / The tale is aye rife- / For fittin' Sir Raif / To wield sword i' the strife? / 'Twas the greatest e'er gi'en- / For they gae him his life!