13 And when he came to Chiel Wyet's castle, He did not knock nor call, But set his bent bow to his breast, And lightly leaped the wall; And ere the porter opend the gate, The boy was in the hall. 14 The first line he looked on, A grieved man was he; The next line he looked on, A tear blinded his ee: Says, I wonder what ails my one brother He'll not let my love be! 15 'But I'll send to my brother's bridal bridal-- The bacon shall be mine-- Full four and twenty buck and roe, And ten tun of the wine; And bid my love be blythe and glad, And I will follow syne.' 16 There was not a groom about that castle But got a gown of green, And all was blythe, and all was glad, But Lady Maisery she was neen. 17 There was no cook about that kitchen But got a gown of gray, And all was blythe, and all was glad, But Lady Maisery was wae. 18 Between Mary Kirk and that castle Was all spread ower with garl, To keep Lady Maisery and her maidens From tramping on the marl. 19 From Mary Kirk to that castle Was spread a cloth of gold, To keep Lady Maisery and her maidens From treading on the mold. 20 When mass was sung, and bells was rung, And all men bound for bed, Then Lord Ingram and Lady Maisery In one bed they were laid. 21 When they were laid into their bed-- It was baith soft and warm-- He laid his hand over her side, Says, I think you are with bairn. 22 'I told you once, so did I twice, When ye came me to woo, That Chiel Wyet, your only brother, One night lay in my bower. 23 'I told you twice, I told you thrice, Ere ye came me to wed, That Chiel Wyet, your one brother, One night lay in my bed.' 24 'O will you father your bairn on me, And on no other man? And I'll give him to his dowry Full fifty ploughs of land.' 25 'I will not father my bairn on you, Nor on no wrongeous man, Though ye would give him to his dowry Five thousand ploughs of land.' 26 Then up did start him Chiel Wyet, Shed by his yellow hair, And gave Lord Ingram to the heart A deep wound and a sair. 27 Then up did start him Lord Ingram, Shed by his yellow hair, And gave Chiel Wyet to the heart A deep wound and a sair. 28 There was no pity for that two lords, Where they were lying slain; But all was for her Lady Maisery, In that bower she gaed brain. 29 There was no pity for that two lords, When they were lying dead; But all was for her Lady Maisery, In that bower she went mad. 30 Said, Get to me a cloak of cloth, A staff of good hard tree; If I have been an evil woman, I shall beg till I dee.