XIII
‘Now reach my pistol, Glaud, my man,
And charge ye weel my gun;
For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher,
My babes, we been undone!’
XIV
She stood upon her castle wa’,
And let twa bullets flee:
She miss’d that bluidy butcher’s heart,
And only razed his knee.
XV
‘Set fire to the house!’ quo’ fals Gordon,
All wud[479] wi’ dule and ire:
‘Fals lady, ye sall rue this deid
As ye brenn in the fire!’—
XVI
‘Wae worth, wae worth ye, Jock, my man!
I paid ye weel your fee;
Why pu’ ye out the grund-wa’[480] stane,
Lets in the reek to me?
XVII
‘And e’en wae worth ye, Jock, my man!
I paid ye weel your hire;
Why pu’ ye out the grund-wa’ stane,
To me lets in the fire?’—