"Give o'er your house, ye lady fair, Give o'er your house to me, Or I sall bren yoursel therein, Bot and your babies three."--

"I winna give o'er, ye false Gord-on To nae sic traitor as ye; And if ye bren my ain dear babes, My lord sall make you dree.

"But 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."

She stude upon her castle wa', And let twa bullets flee: She missed that bluidy butcher's heart And only rased his knee.

"Set fire to the house!" quo' false Gord-on, All wood wi' dule and ire: "False lady, ye sall rue this deed, As ye bren in the fire!"--

"Wae worth, wae worth ye, Jock my man, I paid ye weel your fee: Why pu' ye out the ground-wa' stane, Lets in the reek to me?

"And e'en wae worth ye, Jock my man, I paid ye weel your hire; Why pu' ye out the ground-wa' stane, To me lets in the fire?"--

"Ye paid me weel my hire, lady; Ye paid me weel my fee; But now I'm Edom o' Gordon's man, Maun either do or dee."