11 'Rise up, rise up, maister,' he said,
'Rise up, and speak to me;
Your wife's in bed wi Wee Messgrove,
Rise up richt speedilie.'
12 'Gin that be true ye tell to me,
A lord I will mak thee;
But gin it chance to be a lie,
Sure hanged ye sall be.'
13 'It is as true, my lord,' he said,
'As ever ye were born;
Messgrove's asleep in your lady's bed,
All for to keep her warm.'
14 He mounted on his milk-white steed,
He was ane angry man;
And he reachd his stately castell gate
Just as the day did dawn.
15 He put his horn unto his mouth,
And he blew strong blasts three;
Sayin, He that's in bed with anither man's wife,
He suld be gaun awa.
16 Syne out and spak the Wee Messgrove,
A frichtit man was he;
'I hear Lord Barnard's horn,' he said,
'It blaws baith loud and hie.'
17 'Lye still, lye still, my Wee Messgrove,
And keep me frae the cauld;
'Tis but my father's shepherd's horn,
A sounding in the fauld.'
18 He put his horn unto his mouth,
And he blew loud blasts three;
Saying, He that's in bed wi anither man's wife,
'Tis time he was awa.
19 Syne out and spak the Wee Messgrove,
A frichtit man was he:
'Yon surely is Lord Barnard's horn,
And I maun een gae flee.'
20 Lye still, lye still, Messgrove,' she said,
'And keep me frae the cauld;
'Tis but my father's shepherd's horn,
A sounding in the fauld.'