When she cam to the Netherbow Port,
She laughed loud laughters three;
But when she cam to the gallows-foot,
The tears blinded her ee.

“Yestreen the queen had four Maries,
The night she’ll hae but three;
There was Marie Seaton, and Marie Beaten,
And Marie Carmichael, and me.

“O, often have I dressd my queen,
And put gold upon her hair;
But now I’ve gotten for my reward
The gallows to be my share.

“Often have I dressd my queen,
And often made her bed: 
But now I’ve gotten for my reward
The gallows-tree to tread.

“I charge ye all, ye mariners,
When ye sail ower the faem,
Let neither my father nor mother get wit,
But that I’m coming hame.

“I charge ye all, ye mariners,
That sail upon the sea,
Let neither my father nor mother get wit,
This dog’s death I’m to die.

“For if my father and mother got wit,
And my bold brethren three,
O mickle wad be the gude red blude,
This day wad be spilt for me!

“O little did my mother ken,
The day she cradled me,
The lands I was to travel in,
Or the death I was to die!”

Ballad:  Kinmont Willie

(Child, vol. vi.)

O have ye na heard o the fause Sakelde? 
O have ye na heard o the keen Lord Scroop? 
How they hae taen bauld Kinmont Willie,
On Hairibee to hang him up?

Had Willie had but twenty men,
But twenty men as stout as be,
Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont taen
Wi eight score in his companie.

They band his legs beneath the steed,
They tied his hands behind his back;
They guarded him, fivesome on each side,
And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack.

They led him thro the Liddel-rack. 
And also thro the Carlisle sands;
They brought him to Carlisle castell. 
To be at my Lord Scroope’s commands.

“My hands are tied; but my tongue is free,
And whae will dare this deed avow? 
Or answer by the border law? 
Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch?”

“Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver! 
There’s never a Scot shall set ye 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 taen the Kinmont Willie,
Between the hours of night and day.

He has taen the table wi his hand,
He garrd the red wine spring on hie;
“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 lady’s lilye hand,
That an English lord should lightly me?