"Come, kiss me, then, Peggy, and gie me my speir; I ay was for peace, tho' I never fear'd weir. "Come, kiss me, then, Peggy, nor think I'm to blame; I weel may gae out, but I'll never win in!" 20 When Brackley was busked, and rade o'er the closs, A gallanter baron ne'er lap to a horse. When Brackley was mounted, and rade o'er the green, He was as bald a baron as ever was seen. Tho' there cam' wi' Inverey thirty and three, 25 There was nane wi' bonny Brackley but his brother and he. Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw; But against four and thirty, wae's me, what is twa? Wi' swords and wi' daggers they did him surround; And they've pierced bonny Brackley wi' many a wound. 30 Frae the head o' the Dee to the banks o' the Spey, The Gordons may mourn him, and bann Inverey. "O came ye by Brackley yates, was ye in there? Or saw ye his Peggy dear riving her hair?" "O I came by Brackley yates, I was in there, 35 And I saw his Peggy a-making good cheer." That lady she feasted them, carried them ben; She laugh'd wi' the men that her baron had slain. "O fye on you, lady! how could you do sae? You open'd your yates to the fause Inverey." 40 She ate wi' him, drank wi' him, welcom'd him in; She welcom'd the villain that slew her baron! She kept him till morning, syne bade him be gane, And shaw'd him the road that he shou'dna be taen. "Thro' Birss and Aboyne," she says, "lyin in a tour, 45 O'er the hills o' Glentanar you'll skip in an hour." --There's grief in the kitchen, and mirth in the ha'; But the Baron o' Brackley is dead and awa. THE BARON OF BRAIKLEY. Buchan's _Gleanings_, p. 68, taken from _Scarce Ancient Ballads_, p. 9. Inverey came down Deeside whistlin an playin, He was at brave Braikley's yett ere it was dawin; He rappit fou loudly, an wi a great roar, Cried, "Cum down, cum down, Braikley, an open the door. "Are ye sleepin, Baronne, or are ye wakin? 5 Ther's sharp swords at your yett will gar your bluid spin: Open the yett, Braikley, an lat us within, Till we on the green turf gar your bluid rin." Out spak the brave Baronne owre the castell wa, "Are ye come to spulzie an plunder my ha? 10 But gin ye be gentlemen, licht an cum in, Gin ye drink o' my wine ye'll nae gar my bluid spin. "Gin ye be hir'd widdifus, ye may gang by, Ye may gang to the lawlands and steal their fat ky; Ther spulzie like revers o' wyld kettrin clan, 15 Wha plunder unsparing baith houses and lan'.