O sichin and sobbin she'll seen get her fill."50
"I'me nae coward, brither, it's kent I'me a man;
Ile ficht i' your quarral as lang's I can stan.
Ile ficht, my dear brither, wi heart an guid will,
An so will yung Harry that lives at the mill.
"But turn, my dear brither, and nae langer stay.55
What'll cum o' your ladie, gin Braikley they slay?
What'll cum o' your ladie an' bonny yung son,
O what'll cum o' them when Braikley is gone?"
"I never will turn: do ye think I will fly?
No, here I will ficht, and here I will die."60
"Strik dogs," cries Inverey, "an ficht till ye're slayn,
For we are four hunder, ye are but four men:
Strik, strik, ye proud boaster, your honor is gone,
Your lans we will plunder, your castell we'll burn."
At the head o' the Etnach the battel began,65
At little Auchoilzie they killd the first man:
First they killd ane, an syne they killd twa,
They killd gallant Braikley, the flowr o' them a'.
They killd William Gordon and James o' the Knox,
An brave Alexander, the flowr o' Glenmuick:70
What sichin an moaning war heard i the glen,
For the Baronne o' Braikley, wha basely was slayn!
"Came ye by the castell, an was ye in there?
Saw ye pretty Peggy tearing her hair?"
"Yes, I cam by Braikley, an I gaed in ther,75
An ther saw his ladie braiding her hair.
"She was rantin, an' dancin, an' singin for joy,
An vowin that nicht she woud feest Inverey:
She eat wi him, drank wi him, welcomd him in,
Was kind to the man that had slayn her baronne."80