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