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' Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver !
There's never a Scot shall set thee free : Before ye cross my castle yate,
I trow ye shall take farewell o' me.'
' Fear na ye that, my lord,' quo' Willie :
' By the faith o' my body, Lord Scroope,' he said,
' I never yet lodged in a hostelrie
But I paid my lawing before I gaed.'
Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper, In Branksome Ha', where that he lay,
That Lord Scroope has ta'en the Kinmont Willie, Between the hours of night and day.
He has ta'en the table wi' his hand,
He garr'd the red wine spring on hieó
' Now Christ's curse on my head,' he said, ' But avenged of Lord Scroope I'll be !
' O is my basnet a widow's curch ?
Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree ? Or my arm a ladye's lilye hand,
That an English lord should lightly me !
' And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,
Against the truce of Border tide ? And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch
Is Keeper here on the Scottish side ?
lawing] reckoning. curch] kerchief, coif. lightly]