And a great great gift I'll gie to thee—

Bauld four-and-twenty sisters' sons,

Sail for thee fecht, tho' a' should flee!"

"Away, away, thou traitor strang!

Out o' my sight soon may'st thou be!

I grantit never a traitor's life,

And now I'll not begin wi' thee!"

"Grant me my life, my liege, my King!

And a brave gift I'll gie to thee—

All between heir and Newcastle town