11. ‘O wha is aught that bairn,’ he says, ‘That ye sae big are wi’? And gin ye winna own the truth, This moment ye sall dee.’ 12. She turn’d her right and roun’ about, An’ the kem fell frae her han’; A trembling seiz’d her fair body, An’ her rosy cheek grew wan. 13. ‘O pardon me, my brother dear, An’ the truth I’ll tell to thee; My bairn it is to Lord William, An’ he is betroth’d to me.’ 14. ‘O coud na ye gotten dukes, or lords, Intill your ain country, That ye draw up wi’ an English dog, To bring this shame on me? 15. ‘But ye maun gi’ up the English lord, Whan youre young babe is born; For, gin you keep by him an hour langer, Your life sall be forlorn.’ 16. ‘I will gi’ up this English blood, Till my young babe be born; But the never a day nor hour langer, Tho’ my life should be forlorn.’ 17. ‘O whare is a’ my merry young men, Whom I gi’ meat and fee, To pu’ the thistle and the thorn, To burn this wile whore wi’?’ 18. ‘O whare will I get a bonny boy, To help me in my need, To rin wi’ hast to Lord William, And bid him come wi’ speed?’ 19. O out it spake a bonny boy, Stood by her brother’s side: ‘O I would run your errand, lady, O’er a’ the world wide. 20. ‘Aft have I run your errands, lady, Whan blawn baith win’ and weet; But now I’ll rin your errand, lady, Wi’ sa’t tears on my cheek.’ 21. O whan he came to broken briggs, He bent his bow and swam, An’ whan he came to the green grass growin’, He slack’d his shoone and ran. 22. O whan he came to Lord William’s gates, He baed na to chap or ca’, But set his bent bow till his breast, An’ lightly lap the wa’; An’, or the porter was at the gate, The boy was i’ the ha’. 23. ‘O is my biggins broken, boy? Or is my towers won? Or is my lady lighter yet, Of a dear daughter or son?’ 24. ‘Your biggin is na broken, sir, Nor is your towers won; But the fairest lady in a’ the lan’ For you this day maun burn.’ 25. ‘O saddle me the black, the black, Or saddle me the brown; O saddle me the swiftest steed That ever rade frae a town.’ 26. Or he was near a mile awa’, She heard his wild horse sneeze: ‘Mend up the fire, my false brother, It’s na come to my knees.’ 27. O whan he lighted at the gate, She heard his bridle ring; ‘Mend up the fire, my false brother, It’s far yet frae my chin. 28. ‘Mend up the fire to me, brother, Mend up the fire to me; For I see him comin’ hard an’ fast, Will soon men’ ’t up to thee. 29. ‘O gin my hands had been loose, Willy, Sae hard as they are boun’, I would have turn’d me frae the gleed, And castin out your young son.’ 30. ‘O I’ll gar burn for you, Maisry, Your father an’ your mother; An’ I’ll gar burn for you, Maisry, Your sister an’ your brother.