But the Baron of Braikly is dead and awa.
D
Skene MS., p. 110; north of Scotland, 1802–3.
1
‘Baron o Breachell, are ye within?
The sharp souerd is at yer gate, Breachell, we’ll gar yer blood spin.’
2
‘Thei’r at yer gate, Breachel, thei’r neither men nor lads,
But fifty heard widifas, wi belted plaids.’