77 Edom o’ Gordon
I
It fell about the Martinmas,
When the wind blew shrill and cauld,
Said Edom o’ Gordon to his men,
‘We maun draw to a hauld475.
II
‘And what a hauld sall we draw to,
My merry men and me?
We will gae to the house o’ the Rodes,
To see that fair ladye.’
III
The lady stood on her castle wa’,
Beheld baith dale and down;
There she was ’ware of a host of men
Cam’ riding towards the town476.
IV
‘O see ye not, my merry men a’,
O see ye not what I see?
Methinks I see a host of men;
I marvel wha they be.’
V
She ween’d it had been her lovely lord,
As he cam riding hame;
It was the traitor, Edom o’ Gordon,
Wha reck’d nae sin nor shame.
VI
She had nae sooner buskit477 hersell,
And putten on her gown,
But Edom o’ Gordon an’ his men
Were round about the town.
VII
They had nae sooner supper set,
Nae sooner said the grace,
But Edom o’ Gordon an’ his men
Were lighted about the place.
VIII
The lady ran up to her tower-head,
Sae fast as she could hie,
To see if by her fair speeches
She could wi’ him agree.
IX
‘Come doun to me, ye lady gay,
Come doun, come doun to me;
This night sall ye lig within mine arms,
To-morrow my bride sall be.’—
X
‘I winna come down, ye fals Gordon,
I winna come down to thee;
I winna forsake my ain dear lord,
That is sae far frae me.’—
XI
‘Gie owre your house, ye lady fair,
Gie owre your house to me;
Or I sall brenn yoursel’ therein,
But and your babies three.’—
XII
‘I winna gie owre, ye fals Gordon,
To nae sic traitor as yee;
And if ye brenn my ain dear babes,
My lord sall make ye dree478.
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 wud479 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?’—
XVIII
‘Ye paid me weel my hire, ladye,
Ye paid me weel my fee:
But now I’m Edom o’ Gordon’s man,
Maun either do or dee.’
XIX
O then bespake her little son,
Sat on the nurse’s knee:
Says, ‘Mither dear, gie owre this house,
For the reek it smithers me.’—
XX
‘I wad gie a’ my gowd, my bairn,
Sae wad I a’ my fee,
For ae blast o’ the western wind,
To blaw the reek frae thee.’
XXI
O then bespake her dochter dear—
She was baith jimp481 and sma’:
‘O row482 me in a pair o’ sheets,
And tow me owre the wa’!’
XXII
They row’d her in a pair o’ sheets,
And tow’d her owre the wa’;
But on the point o’ Gordon’s spear
She gat a deadly fa’.
XXIII
O bonnie, bonnie was her mouth,
And cherry were her cheiks,
And clear, clear was her yellow hair,
Whereon the red blood dreips.
XXIV
Then wi’ his spear he turn’d her owre;
O gin her face was wane!
He said, ‘Ye are the first that e’er
I wish’d alive again.’
XXV
He turn’d her owre and owre again;
O gin her skin was white!
‘I might hae spared that bonnie face
To hae been some man’s delight.
XXVI
‘Busk and boun483, my merry men a’,
For ill dooms I do guess;
I canna look in that bonnie face
As it lies on the grass.’—
XXVII
‘Wha looks to freits484, my master dear,
It’s freits will follow them;
Let it ne’er be said that Edom o’ Gordon
Was daunted by a dame.’
XXVIII
But when the lady saw the fire
Come flaming owre her head,
She wept, and kiss’d her children twain,
Says, ‘Bairns, we been but dead.’
XXIX
The Gordon then his bugle blew,
And said, ‘Awa’, awa’!
This house o’ the Rodes is a’ in a flame;
I hauld it time to ga’.’
XXX
And this way lookit her ain dear lord,
As he cam owre the lea;
He saw his castle a’ in a lowe485,
As far as he could see.
XXXI
Then sair, O sair, his mind misgave,
And all his heart was wae:
‘Put on, put on, my wighty486 men,
Sae fast as ye can gae.
XXXII
‘Put on, put on, my wighty men,
Sae fast as ye can drie!
For he that’s hindmost o’ the thrang
Sall ne’er get good o’ me.’
XXXIII
Then some they rade, and some they ran,
Out-owre the grass and bent;
But ere the foremost could win up,
Baith lady and babes were brent.
XXXIV
And after the Gordon he is gane,
Sae fast as he might drie;
And soon i’ the Gordon’s foul heart’s blude
He’s wroken487 his dear ladye.
Footnotes
475 hauld = place of shelter.
476 town = stead.
477 buskit = attired.
478 dree = suffer.
479 wud = mad.
480 grund-wa’ = ground-wall.
481 jimp = slender, trim.
482 row = wrap.
483 Busk and boun = trim up and prepare to go.
484 freits = ill omen.
485 lowe = flame.
486 wighty = sturdy, active.
487 wroken = avenged.