'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?' Quo' fause Sakelde; 'come tell to me!' Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band, And the never a word of lear had he. 'Why trespass ye on the English side? Row-footed outlaws, stand!' quo' he; The never a word had Dickie to say, 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, But the never a horse nor man we lost. And when we reached the Staneshaw-Bank, The wind was rising loud and hie; And there the Laird garred leave our steeds, For fear that they should stamp and neigh. And when we left the Staneshaw-Bank, The wind began full loud to blaw; But 'twas wind and weet, and fire and sleet, When we came beneath the castle wa'. We crept on knees, and held our breath, Till we placed the ladders against the wa'; And sae ready was Buccleuch himsell To mount the first before us a'. He has ta'en the watchman by the throat, He flung him down upon the lead: 'Had there not been peace between our lands, Upon the other side thou'dst gaed! Now sound out, trumpets!' quo' Buccleuch; 'Let's waken Lord Scroope right merrilie!' Then loud the warden's trumpet blew _O wha dare meddle wi' me?_ THE RESCUE Then speedilie to wark we gaed, And raised the slogan ane and a', And cut a hole through a sheet of lead, And so we wan to the castle ha'. They thought King James and a' his men Had won the house wi' bow and spear; It was but twenty Scots and ten That put a thousand in sic a stear! Wi' coulters and wi' forehammers We garred the bars bang merrilie, Until we came to the inner prison, Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie. And when we cam' to the lower prison, Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie: 'O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie, Upon the morn that thou's to die?' 'O I sleep saft, and I wake aft; It's lang since sleeping was fleyed frae me! Gie my service back to my wife and bairns, And a' gude fellows that spier for me.' Then Red Rowan has hente him up, The starkest man in Teviotdale: 'Abide, abide now, Red Rowan, Till of my Lord Scroope I take farewell. Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope! My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!' he cried; 'I'll pay you for my lodging maill, When first we meet on the Border side.' Then shoulder high with shout and cry We bore him down the ladder lang; At every stride Red Rowan made, I wot the Kinmont's airns played clang. 'O mony a time,' quo' Kinmont Willie, 'I have ridden horse baith wild and wood; But a rougher beast than Red Rowan I ween my legs have ne'er bestrode.