"Now, God forbid, my auld father,
That ever sic a thing suld be!40
[Billie Bewick was my master, and I was his scholar],
And aye sae weel as he learned me."
"O hald thy tongue, thou limmer loon,
And of thy talking let me be!
If thou does na end me this quarrel soon,45
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?"50
"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 Græme's to his chamber gane,55
To consider weel what then should be;
Whether he should fight with his auld father,
Or with his billie Bewick, he.
"If I suld kill my billie dear,
God's blessing I shall never win;60
But if I strike at my auld father,
I think 'twald be a mortal sin.
"But if I kill my billie dear,
It is God's will, so let it be;
But I make a vow, ere I gang frae hame,65
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!70