His men were a' clad in the grene, 75 The knight was armed capapie, With a bended bow, on a milk-white steed, And I wot they rank'd right bonnilie: Thereby Boyd kend he was master man, And served him in his ain degr['e]. 80 "God mot thee save, brave Outlaw Murray! Thy ladye, and all thy chyvalrie!" "Marry, thou's wellcum, gentleman, Some king's messenger thou seemis to be." "The King of Scotlonde sent me here, 85 And, gude Outlaw, I am sent to thee; I wad wot of whom ye hald your landis, Or man, wha may thy master be?" "Thir landis are MINE!" the Outlaw said; "I ken nae king in Christentie; 90 Frae Soudron I this foreste wan, When the King nor his knightis were not to see." "He desyres you'l cum to Edinburgh, And hauld of him this foreste fre; And, gif ye refuse to do this, 95 He'll conquess baith thy landis and thee. He hath vow'd to cast thy castell down, And mak a widowe o' thy gaye ladye; "He'll hang thy merryemen, payr by payr, In ony frith where he may them finde." 100 "Ay, by my troth!" the Outlaw said, "Than wauld I thinke me far behinde. "Ere the King my feir countrie get, This land that's nativest to me, Mony o' his nobilis sall be cauld, 105 Their ladyes sall be right wearie." Then spak his ladye, feir of face, She seyd, "Without consent of me, That an Outlaw suld come befor a King; I am right rad of treasonrie. 110 Bid him be gude to his lordis at hame, For Edinburgh my lord sall nevir see." James Boyd tuik his leave o' the Outlaw kene, To Edinburgh boun is he; When James he cam before the King, 115 He knelit lowlie on his kn['e]. "Welcum, James Boyd!" seyd our nobil King; "What foreste is Ettricke Foreste frie?" "Ettricke Foreste is the feirest foreste That evir man saw wi' his ee. 120 "There's the dae, the rae, the hart, the hynde, And of a' wild bestis grete plentie; There's a pretty castell of lyme and stane, O gif it standis not pleasauntlie! "There's in the fore front o' that castell, 125 Twa unicorns, sae bra' to see; There's the picture of a knight, and a ladye bright, Wi' the grene hollin abune their brie. "There the Outlaw keepis five hundred men, He keepis a royalle cumpanie; 130 His merryemen in ae livery clad, O' the Lincome grene sae gaye to see: He and his ladye in purple clad; O gin they live not royallie!