The king then call’d a gentleman,
  James Boyd, (the Earl of Arran his brother was he)
  When James he cam befor the king,
  He knelit befor him on his kne.

  “Wellcum, James Boyd!” said our nobil king;
  “A message ye maun gang for me;
  Ye maun hye to Ettricke Foreste,
  To yon Outlaw, where bydeth he: 

  “Ask him of whom he haldis his landis,
  Or man, wha may his master be,
  And desyre him cum, and be my man,
  And hald of me yon Foreste frie.

  “To Edinburgh to cum and gang,
  His safe warrant I sall gie;
  And gif he refuses to do that,
  We’ll conquess baith his landis and he.

  “Thou may’st vow I’ll cast his castell down,
  And mak a widowe o’ his gay ladye;
  I’ll hang his merryemen, payr by payr,
  In ony frith where I may them see.”

  James Boyd tuik his leave o’ the nobil king,
  To Ettricke Foreste feir cam he;
  Down Birkendale Brae when that he cam,
  He saw the feir Foreste wi’ his e’e.

  Baithe dae and rae, and hart and hinde,
  And of a’ wilde beastis great plentie;
  He heard the bows that bauldly ring,
  And arrows whidderan’ hym near bi.

  Of that feir castell he got a sight;
  The like he neir saw wi’ his e’e! 
  On the fore front o’ that castell feir,
  Twa unicorns were gaye to see;
  The picture of a knight, and a ladye bright,
  And the grene hollin abune their brie.

  Thereat he spyed five hundred men,
  Shuting with bows on Newark Lee;

  They were a’ in ae livery clad,
  O’ the Lincome grene sae gaye to see.

  His men were a’ clad in the grene,
  The knight was armed capapie,
  With a bended bow, on a milk-white steed;
  And I wot they ranked right bonilie.

  Thereby Boyd kend he was master man,
  And serv’d him in his ain degre. 
  “God mot thee save, brave Outlaw Murray! 
  Thy ladye, and all thy chyvalrie!”
  “Marry, thou’s wellcum, gentelman,
  Some king’s messenger thou seemis to be.”

  “The king of Scotlonde sent me here,
  And, gude Outlaw, I am sent to thee;
  I wad wot of whom ye hald your landis,
  Or man, wha may thy master be?”

  “Thir landis are MINE!” the Outlaw said;
  “I ken nae king in Christentie;
  Frae Soudron[107] I this Foreste wan,
  When the king nor his knightis were not to see.”

  “He desyres you’l cum to Edinburgh,
  And hauld of him this Foreste frie;
  And, gif ye refuse to do this,
  He’ll conquess baith thy landis and thee. 
  He hath vow’d to cast thy castell down,
  And mak a widowe o’ thy gaye ladye;

  “He’ll hang thy merryemen, payr by payr,
  In ony frith where he may them finde.” 
  “Aye, by my troth!” the Outlaw said,
  “Than wald I think me far behinde.

  “E’er the king my feir countrie get,
  This land that’s nativest to me! 
  Mony o’ his nobilis sall be cauld,
  Their ladyes sall be right wearie.”