6 Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord, As she sat by the bishop’s knee: ‘Five hundred white pence I’ll gee you, If ye’ll gie Hughie Graham to me.’ 7 ‘O haud your tongue now, lady fair, And wi your pleading let it be! Altho ten Grahams were in his coat, It’s for my honour he maun die.’ 8 They’ve taen him to the gallows-knowe, He looked to the gallows-tree, Yet never colour left his cheek, Nor ever did he blink his ee. 9 At length he looked round about, To see whatever he could spy, And there he saw his auld father, And he was weeping bitterly. 10 ‘O haud your tongue, my father dear, And wi your weeping let it be! Thy weeping’s sairer on my heart Than a’ that they can do to me. 11 ‘And ye may gie my brother John My sword that’s bent in the middle clear, And let him come at twelve o’clock, And see me pay the bishop’s mare. 12 ‘And ye may gie my brother James My sword that’s bent in the middle brown, And bid him come at four o’clock, And see his brother Hugh cut down. 13 ‘Remember me to Maggy my wife, The niest time ye gang oer the moor; Tell her, she staw the bishop’s mare, Tell her, she was the bishop’s whore. 14 ‘And ye may tell my kith and kin I never did disgrace their blood, And when they meet the bishop’s cloak, To mak it shorter by the hood.’ * * * * * C Scott’s Minstrelsy, 1803, III, 85, 1833, III, 107, procured by W. Laidlaw in Blackhouse, and long current in Selkirkshire; with readings from Ritson’s copy. 1 Gude Lord Scroope’s to the hunting gane, He has ridden oer moss and muir, And he has grippet Hughie the Græme, For stealing o the bishop’s mare. 2 ‘Now, good Lord Scroope, this may not be! Here hangs a broad sword by my side, And if that thou canst conquer me, The matter it may soon be tryed.’ 3 ‘I neer was afraid of a traitor thief; Although thy name be Hughie the Græme, I’ll make thee repent thee of thy deeds, If God but grant me life and time.’ 4 ‘Then do your worst now, good Lord Scroope, And deal your blows as hard as you can; It shall be tried, within an hour, Which of us two is the better man.’ 5 But as they were dealing their blows so free, And both so bloody at the time, Over the moss came ten yeomen so tall, All for to take brave Hughie the Græme. 6 Then they hae grippit Hughie the Græme, And brought him up through Carlisle town; The lasses and lads stood on the walls, Crying, Hughie the Græme, thou’se neer gae down! 7 Then they hae chosen a jury of men, The best that were in Carlisle town, And twelve of them cried out at once, Hughie the Græme, thou must gae down!