HUGHIE THE GRÆME.
Gude Lord Scroope's to the hunting gane,
He has ridden our moss and muir;
And he has grippit Hughie the Græme,
For stealing o' the bishop's mare.
"Now, Good Lord Scroope, this may not be!
Here hangs a broadsword by my side;
And if that thou canst conquer me,
The matter it may soon be tryed.
"I ne'er was afraid of a traitor thief,
Although my name be Hughie the Græme;
I'll make thee repent thee of thy deeds,
If God but grant me life and time.
"Then do your worst now, good Lord Scroope,
And deal your blows as hard as you can;
It shall be tried within an hour,
Which of us two is the better man."
But as they were dealing their blows so free,
And both so bloody at the time,
Over the moss came ten yeomen so tall,
All for to take brave Hughie the Græme.
Then they ha'e gribbit Hughie the Græme,
And brought him up through Carlisle town;
The lasses and lads stood on the walls,
Crying, "Hughie the Græme, thou'se ne'er gae down!"
Then ha'e they chosen a jury of men,
The best that were in Carlisle town:
And twelve of them cried out at once,
"Hughie the Græme, thou must gae down!"
Then up bespake him gude Lord Hume,
As he sat by the judge's knee:
"Twenty white owsen, my gude Lord,
If you'll grant Hughie the Græme to me."
"O no, O no, my gude Lord Hume!
Forsooth, and sae it mauna be;
For were there but three Græmes of the name,
They suld be hanged a' for me."