"Thou speakest against my honour and me,
Unless thou gie me thy trowth and thy hand,
Thou'lt steal frae nane but whae sta' frae thee."
"There is my trowth, and my right hand!
My head shall hang on Hairibee;
I'll ne'er cross Carlisle sands again,
If I steal frae a man but whae sta' frae me."
Dickie's ta'en leave o' lord and master;
I wat a merry fule was he!