T fell about the Martinmas, Quhen the wind blew shril and cauld, And quhat a hauld sall we draw till, We wul gae to the house o' the Rodes, The lady stude on hir castle wa', There she was ware of a host of men O see ye nat, my mirry men a'? 3 She weend it had been hir luvely lord, It was the traitor Edom o' Gordon, She had nae sooner buskit* hirsel, They had nae sooner supper sett, [1 to a hold. 2 dwelling-house. Q 3 thought. 4 dressed.] 5 10 15 20 25 The lady ran up to hir towir head, But quhan he see this lady saif, Cum doun to me, ye lady gay, Cum doun, cum doun to me: This night sall ye lig2 within mine armes, I winnae cum doun, ye fals Gordon, I winnae forsake my ain dear lord, Give owre your house, ye lady fair, Bot and your babies three. I winnae give owre, ye false Gordon, And if ye brenn my ain dear babes, But reach my pistoll, Glaud, my man,* For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher, 55 She stude upon hir castle wa', And let twa bullets flee : * * These three lines are restored from Foulis's edition, and the fol. MS., which last reads the bullets, in ver. 58. She mist that bluidy butchers hart, Set fire to the house, quo' fals Gordòn, All wood wi' dule1 and ire : Fals lady, ye sall rue this deid, As ye bren in the fire. 60 Wae worth,2 wae worth ye, Jock my man, 65 I paid ye weil your fee; Quhy pu' ye out the ground-wa' stane.3 4 Lets in the reek to me? And ein wae worth ye, Jock my man, I paid ye weil your hire; Quhy pu' ye out the ground-wa stane, 70 Sayes, Mither deare, gi' owre this house, 80 I wad gie a' my gowd," my childe, For ane blast o' the western wind, To blaw the reek frae thee. O then bespaik hir dochter dear, 85 They rowd hir in a pair o' sheits, O bonnie bonnie was hir mouth, Then wi' his spear he turnd hir owre, He turnd hir owre and owre againe, Busk and boun,' my merry men a', I cannae luik in that bonnie face, Thame, luiks to freits, my master deir, Then freits wil follow thame: Let it neir be said brave Edom o' Gordon Was daunted by a dame. But quhen the ladye see the fire Cum flaming owre hir head, She wept and kist her children twain, 90 95 100 105 110 115 Ver. 98, 102. O gin, &c. a Scottish idiom to express great admiration. V. 109, 110. Thame, &c. i.e. Them that look after omens of ill luck, ill luck will follow. ['make ready to go.] The Gordon then his bougill1 blew, This house o' the Rodes is a' in flame, O then bespyed hir ain dear lord, As hee cam owr the lee; He sied2 his castle all in blaze Sa far as he could see. Then sair, O sair his mind misgave, And all his hart was wae; Put on, put on, my wighty men, So fast as ye can gae. Put on, put on, my wighty3 men, For he that is hindmost of the thrang, Than sum they rade, and sum they rin, Baith lady and babes were brent. He wrang his hands, he rent his hair, O traitors, for this cruel deid And after the Gordon he is gane, And soon i' the Gordon's foul hartis bluid, 8 120 125 130 135 140 |