XXIX KINMONT WILLIE THE CAPTURE O HAVE ye na heard o' the fause Sakelde? Had Willie had but twenty men, They band his legs beneath the steed, They tied his hands behind his back; They led him thro' the Liddel-rack, My hands are tied, but my tongue is free, Or answer by the Border law? Or answer to the bold Buccleuch ?' 'Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver ! There's never a Scot shall set thee free : Before ye cross my castle yett, I trow ye shall take farewell o' me.' 'Fear na ye that, my lord,' quo' Willie : 'By the faith o' my body, Lord Scroope,' he said, 'I never yet lodged in a hostelrie But I paid my lawing before I gaed.' THE KEEPER'S WRATH Now word is gane to the bold Keeper, He has ta'en the table wi' his hand, He garred the red wine spring on hie: 'Now a curse upon my head,' he said, 'But avenged of Lord Scroope I'll be ! O is my basnet a widow's curch? Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree? Or my arm a lady's lily hand, That an English lord should lightly me! And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie, And have they e'en ta'en him, Kinmont Willie, And forgotten that the bold Buccleuch O were there war between the lands, I would set that castle in a lowe, But since nae war's between the lands, THE MARCH He has called him forty Marchmen bold, I trow they were of his ain name, Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, called The Laird of Stobs, I mean the same. ; He has called him forty Marchmen bold, Were kinsmen to the bold Buccleuch With spur on heel, and splent on spauld, And gluves of green, and feathers blue. There were five and five before them a', Wi' hunting horns and bugles bright : And five and five cam' wi' Buccleuch, Like warden's men, arrayed for fight. And five and five like a mason gang And five and five like broken men ; And as we crossed the 'Bateable Land, Whae suld it be but fause Sakelde? 'Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen?' Quo' fause Sakelde; 'come tell to me !' 'We go to hunt an English stag Has trespassed on the Scots countrie.' Where be ye gaun, ye marshal men?' come tell me true !' 'We go to catch a rank reiver Has broken faith wi' the bold Buccleuch.' Where are ye gaun, ye mason lads, Wi' a' your ladders lang and hie?' 'We gang to herry a corbie's nest That wons not far frae Woodhouselee.' 'Where be ye gaun, ye broken men ?' 'Why trespass ye on the English side? Sae he thrust the lance through his fause bodie. Then on we held for Carlisle toun, And at Staneshaw-Bank the Eden we crossed; The water was great and meikle of spait, And when we reached the Staneshaw-Bank, And when we left the Staneshaw-Bank, We crept on knees, and held our breath, To mount the first before us a'. He has ta'en the watchman by the throat, Now sound out, trumpets !' quo' Buccleuch ; O wha dare meddle wi' me? THE RESCUE Then speedilie to wark we gaed, |