GRÆME AND BEWICK
![[Original]](#625240438173620599_9079.jpg.id-6395224390888983725.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
Gude Lord Græme is to Carlisle gane,
Sir Robert Bewick there met he,
And arm in arm to the wine they did go,
And they drank till they were baith merry.
Gude Lord Græme has ta en up the cup,
"Sir Robert Bewick, and heres to thee!
And here's to our twa sons at hame!
For they like us best in our ain country."—
"O were your son a lad like mine,
And learn'd some books that he could read,
They might hae been twa brethren bold,
And they might hae bragged the Border side.
(bragged, defied.)
"But your son's a lad, and he is but bad,
And billy to my son he canna be;"
"[I] sent him to the schools, and he wadna learn;
[I] bought him books, and he wadna read;
But my blessing shall he never earn,
Till I see how his arm can defend his head."—
Gude Lord Græme has a reckoning call'd,
A reckoning then called he;
And he paid a crown, and it went roun',
It was all for the gude wine and free.
And he has to the stable gane,
Where there stood thirty steeds and three;
He's ta'en his ain horse amang them a',
And hame he rade sae manfully.
"Welcome, my auld father!" said Christie Graeme,
"But where sae lang frae hame were ye?"—
"It's I hae been at Carlisle town,
And a baffled man by thee I be.
"I hae been at Carlisle town,
Where Sir Robert Bewick he met me;
He says yere a lad, and ye are but bad,
And billy to his son ye canna be.
"I sent ye to the schools, and ye wadna learn;
I bought ye books, and ye wadna read;
Therefore my blessing ye shall never earn,
Till I see with Bewick thou save my head."
"Now, God forbid, my auld father,
That ever sic a thing should be!
Billy Bewick was my master, and I was his scholar,
And aye sae weel as he learned me."
"O hold thy tongue, thou limmer loon,
And of thy talking let me be!
If thou does na end me this quarrel soon,
There is my glove, I'll fight wi' thee."
Then Christie Græme he stooped low
Unto the ground, you shall understand;—
"O father, put on your glove again,
The wind has blown it from your hand?"
What's that thou says, thou limmer loon?
How dares thou stand to speak to me?
If thou do not end this quarrel soon,
There's my right hand thou shalt fight with me."—
Then Christie Graeme's to his chamber gane,
To consider weel what then should be;
Whether he should fight with his auld father,
Or with his billy Bewick, he.
(limmer, rascal.)
Græme and Bewick ss' 47
"If I should kill my billy dear,
God's blessing I shall never win;
But if I strike at my auld father,
I think 'twould be a mortal sin.
"But if I kill my billy dear,
It is God's will, so let it be;
But I make a vow, ere I gang frae hame,
That I shall be the next man's die."—
Then he's put on's back a gude auld jack,
And on his head a cap of steel,
And sword and buckler by his side;
O gin he did not become them weel!
We'll leave off talking of Christie Græme,
And talk of him again belive;
And we will talk of bonny Bewick,
Where he was teaching his scholars five.
When he had taught them well to fence,
And handle swords without any doubt,
He took his sword under his arm,
And he walk'd his father's close about.
He look'd atween him and the sun,
And a' to see what there might be,
Till he spied a man in armour bright,
Was riding that way most hastily.
(jacky coat of mail. belive, soon.)
"O wha is yon, that came this way,
Sae hastily that hither came?
I think it be my brother dear,
I think it be young Christie Græme.
"Yere welcome here, my billy dear,
And thrice ye're welcome unto me! "—
"But I'm wae to say, I've seen the day,
When I am come to fight wi' thee.
"My fathers gane to Carlisle town,
Wi' your father Bewick there met he:
He says I'm a lad, and I am but bad,
And a baffled man I trow I be.
"He sent me to schools, and I wadna learn;
He gae me books, and I wadna read;
Sae my father's blessing I'll never earn,
Till he see how my arm can guard my head."
"O God forbid, my billy dear,
That ever such a thing should be!
We'll take three men on either side,
And see if we can our fathers agree."
"O hold thy tongue, now, billy Bewick,
And of thy talking let me be!
But if thou'rt a man, as I'm sure thou art,
Come o'er the dyke, and fight wi' me."
"But I hae nae harness, billy, on my back,
As weel I see there is on thine."—
"But as little harness as is on thy back,
As little, billy, shall be on mine."—
Then he's thrown off his coat o' mail,
His cap of steel away flung he;
He stuck his spear into the ground,
And he tied his horse unto a tree.
Then Bewick has thrown off his cloak,
And's psalter-book frae's hand flung he;
He laid his hand upon the dyke,
And ower he lap most manfully.
O they hae fought for twa lang hours;
When twa lang hours were come and gane,
The sweat drapp'd fast frae off them baith,
But a drap of blude could not be seen.
Till Græme gae Bewick an awkward stroke,
Ane awkward stroke strucken sickerly;
He has hit him under the left breast,
And dead-wounded to the ground fell he.
"Rise up, rise up, now, billy dear,
Arise and speak three words to me!
Whether thou's gotten thy deadly wound,
Or if God and good leeching may succour thee?"
(sickerly, surely.)
"O horse, O horse, now, billy Græme,
And get thee far from hence with speed;
And get thee out of this country,
That none may know who has done the deed."—
"O I have slain thee, billy Bewick,
If this be true thou tellest to me;
But I made a vow, ere I came frae hame,
That aye the next man I wad be."
He has pitch'd his sword in a moodie-hill,
And he has leap'd twenty lang feet and three,
And on his ain sword's point he lap,
And dead upon the ground fell he.
'Twas then came up Sir Robert Bewick,
And his brave son alive saw he;
"Rise up, rise up, my son," he said,
"For I think ye hae gotten the victorie."
"O hold your tongue, my father dear,
Of your prideful talking let me be!
Ye might hae drunken your wine in peace,
And let me and my billy be.
"Gae dig a grave, baith wide and deep,
And a grave to hold baith him and me;
But lay Christie Græme on the sunny side,
For I'm sure he won the victorie."
(moodie-hill, mole-hill.)
"Alack! a wae!" auld Bewick cried,
"Alack! was I not much to blame?
I'm sure I've lost the liveliest lad
That e'er was born unto my name."
"Alack! a wae!" quo' gude Lord Græme,
"Im sure I hae lost the deeper lack!
I durst hae ridden the Border through,
Had Christie Græme been at my back.
"Had I been led through Liddesdale,
And thirty horsemen guarding me,
And Christie Græme been at my back,
Sae soon as he had set me free!
"I've lost my hopes, I've lost my joy,
I've lost the key but and the lock;
I durst hae ridden the world round,
Had Christie Græme been at my back."