27
They rode till they came to the water o Doune,
And then he alighted to wash his wounds.
28
'O Earl Bran, I see your heart's blood!'
'T is but the gleat o my scarlet hood.'
29
They rode till they came to his mother's gate,
And sae rudely as he rapped at it.
30
'O my son's slain, my son's put down,
And a' for the sake of an English loun.'
31
'O say not sae, my dear mother,
But marry her to my youngest brother.
* * * * *
32
'This has not been the death o ane,
But it's been that of fair seventeen.'
* * * * *
B.
Scott's Minstrelsy, III, 246, ed. 1803; III, 6, ed. 1833: the copy principally used supplied by Mr Sharpe, the three last stanzas from a penny pamphlet and from tradition.