8 O she’s down on her bended knee, I wat she’s pale and weary: ‘O pardon, pardon, noble king, And gie me back my dearie! 9 ‘I hae born seven sons to my Geordie dear, The seventh neer saw his daddie; O pardon, pardon, noble king, Pity a waefu lady!’ 10 ‘Gar bid the headin-man mak haste,’ Our king reply’d fu lordly: ‘O noble king, tak a’ that’s mine, But gie me back my Geordie!’ 11 The Gordons cam, and the Gordons ran, And they were stark and steady, And ay the word amang them a’ Was, Gordons, keep you ready! 12 An aged lord at the king’s right hand Says, Noble king, but hear me; Gar her tell down five thousand pound, And gie her back her dearie. 13 Some gae her marks, some gae her crowns, Some gae her dollars many, And she’s telld down five thousand pound, And she’s gotten again her dearie. 14 She blinkit blythe in her Geordie’s face, Says, Dear I’ve bought thee, Geordie; But there sud been bluidy bouks on the green Or I had tint my laddie. 15 He claspit her by the middle sma, And he kist her lips sae rosy: ‘The fairest flower o woman-kind Is my sweet, bonie lady!’ * * * * * B #a.# “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 13, Abbotsford. Sent to Scott by William Laidlaw, September 11, 1802 (Letters, vol. i, No 73), as written down by Laidlaw from the recitation of Mr Bartram of Biggar. #b.# Variations received by Laidlaw from J. Scott. 1 ‘There was a battle i the north Amang our nobles many, And they have killed Sir Charles Hay, And they’ve taen thrae me my Geordie.’ 2 ‘O where’ll I gett a wi bit boy, A bonnie boy that’s ready, That will gae in to my biggin With a letter to my ladie?’ 3 Then up and startit a wi bit boy, An a bonnie boy was ready: ‘It’s I’ll gae in to your biggin Wi a letter to your ladie.’ 4 When the day was fair an the way was clear, An the wi bit boy was ready, An he’s gane in to his biggin, Wi a letter to his ladie. 5 When she lookd the letter on, She was no a wearit ladie; But when she lookit the other side, She mourned for her Geordie. 6 ‘Gar sadle to me the black,’ she says, ‘For the brown rade neer sey bonnie, An I’ll gae down to Enbro town, An see my true-love Geordie.’ 7 When she cam to the water-side, The cobles war na ready; She’s turnd her horse’s head about, An in by the Queen’s Ferry. 8 When she cam to the West Port, There war poor folks many; She dealt crowns an the ducatdowns, And bade them pray for Geordie. 9 When she cam to the Parliament Closs, There amang our nobles many, Cravats an caps war standing there, But low, low lay her Geordie.