| |
I
INVEREY cam’ doun Deeside, whistlin’ and playin’; | |
| He was at brave Brackley’s yates ere it was dawin’. | |
| |
II
Says, ‘Baron of Brackley, are ye within? | |
| There ’s sharp swords at your yate will gar your blood spin. | |
| |
III
‘Open the yate, Brackley, let us within, | 5 |
| Till on the green turf we gar your blood spin.’ | |
| |
IV
The lady rase up, to the window she went; | |
| She heard the kye lowin’ o’er hill and o’er bent. | |
| |
V
‘O rise up, John,’ she says, ‘turn back your kye; | |
| They’re o’er the hills rinnin’, they’re skippin awye!’— | 10 |
| |
VI
‘Come to bed, Peggie, and let the kye rin: | |
| For were I to gang out, I’d never get in. | |
| |
VII
‘For there is na gentlemen, nor yet pretty lads, | |
| But a curn o’ hired widdifu’s, wears belted plaids.’ | |
| |
VIII
Then she cry’d on her women, they quickly came ben: | 15 |
| ‘Tak’ up your rocks, lasses, and fight a’ like men! | |
| |
IX
‘Tho’ I’m but a woman, to head you I’ll try, | |
| Nor let these vile Hielandmen steal a’ our kye.’ | |
| |
X
Then up gat the Baron and cry’d for his graith; | |
| Says, ‘Lady, I’ll gang, tho’ to leave you I’m laith. | 20 |
| |
XI
‘Come kiss me, my Peggie, and get me my gun; | |
| For I well may gang out, but I’ll never win in.’ | |
| |
XII
When the Baron of Brackley he rade thro’ the close, | |
| A gallanter gentleman ne’er mounted horse. | |
| |
XIII
Tho’ there cam’ in with Inverey thirty and three, | 25 |
| There was nane wi’ bold Brackley but his brither and he. | |
| |
XIV
Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw: | |
| But against four and thirty, wae ’s me, what was twa? | |
| |
XV
Wi’ swords and wi’ daggers they did him surround, | |
| And they’ve pierced the bold Brackley wi’ mony a wound. | 30 |
| |
XVI
Frae the head o’ the Dee to the banks o’ the Spey | |
| The Gordons may mourn him and ban Inverey. | |
| |
XVII
‘O cam’ ye in by Brackley, and was ye in there? | |
| Or saw ye his Peggy dear riving her hair?’— | |
| |
XVIII
‘O I cam’ by Brackley, and I was in there, | 35 |
| But I saw-na his Peggy dear riving her hair.’— | |
| |
XIX
‘O fye on ye, ladye! how could ye do sae? | |
| You open’d your yate to the fause Inverey.’ | |
| |
XX
She ate wi’ him, drank wi’ him, welcomed him in; | |
| She ’s welcomed the villain that slew her Baròn. | 40 |
| |
XXI
She kept him till morning, syne bade him be gane, | |
| And show’d him the road that he wouldna be ta’en. | |
| |
XXII
‘Thro’ Bires and Aboyne,’ she says, ‘lyin’ in a tour | |
| O’er the hills o’ Glentanor ye’ll skip in an hour.’ | |
| |
XXIII
There is dule in the kitchen, and mirth in the ha’, | 45 |
| For the Baron of Brackley is dead and awa’. | |
| |
XXIV
But and up spak’ the babe on his nourice’s knee— | |
| ‘Gin I live to be man, it ’s revenged I will be.’ | |
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