20 She’s taen the hat out of his hand, And dear! it set her bonny; She’s beggd the red gold them among, And a’ to borrow Geordy. 21 She turnd her right and round about Among the nobles many; Some gave her dollars, some her crowns, And some gave guineas many. 22 She spread her mantle on the floor, O dear! she spread it bonny, And she told down that noble sum; Says, Put on your hat, my Geordy. 23 But out it speaks him gleid Argyle, Says, Woe be to your body! I wish that Gight had lost his head, I should enjoyd his lady. 24 She looked oer her left shoulder, A proud look and a saucy; Says, Woe be to you, gleid Argyle! Ye’ll neer be like my Geordy. 25 ‘You’ll hae me to some writer’s house, And that baith seen and shortly, That I may write down Gight’s lament, And how I borrowed Geordy.’ 26 When she was in her saddle set, And aye behind her Geordy, Birds neer sang blyther in the bush Than she behind her Geordy. 27 ‘O bonny George, but I love thee well, And O sae dear as I love thee! The sun and moon and firmament above Bear witness how I love thee!’ 28 ‘O bonny Ann, but I love thee well, And O but sae dear as I love thee! The birds in the air, that fly together pair and pair, Bear witness, Ann, that I love thee!’ * * * * * J Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 133. 1 ‘First I was lady o Black Riggs, And then into Kincraigie; Now I am the Lady o Gight, And my love he’s ca’d Geordie. 2 ‘I was the mistress o Pitfan, And madam o Kincraigie; But now my name is Lady Anne, And I am Gight’s own lady. 3 ‘We courted in the woods o Gight, Where birks and flowrs spring bonny; But pleasures I had never one, But sorrows thick and mony. 4 ‘He never ownd me as his wife, Nor honourd me as his lady, But day by day he saddles the grey, And rides to Bignet’s lady.’ 5 When Bignet he got word of that, That Gight lay wi his lady, He’s casten him in prison strong, To ly till lords were ready. 6 ‘Where will I get a little wee boy, That is baith true and steady, That will run on to bonny Gight, And bring to me my lady?’ 7 ‘O here am I, a little wee boy, That is baith true and steady, That will run to the yates o Gight, And bring to you your lady.’ 8 ‘Ye’ll bid her saddle the grey, the grey, The brown rode neer so smartly; Ye’ll bid her come to Edinbro town, A’ for the life of Geordie.’ 9 The night was fair, the moon was clear, And he rode by Bevany, And stopped at the yates o Gight, Where leaves were thick and mony. 10 The lady lookd oer castle-wa, And dear, but she was sorry! ‘Here comes a page frae Edinbro town; A’ is nae well wi Geordie.