“He bidds ye mete him at Permanscore,
  And bring four in your cumpanie;
  Five erles sall gang himsell befor,
  Nae mair in number will he be.

  “And, gif you refuse to do that,
  (I freely here upgive wi’ thee)
  He’ll cast yon bonny castle down,
  And mak a widowe o’ that gaye ladye.

  “He’ll loose yon bluidhound borderers,
  Wi’ fire and sword to follow thee;
  There will nevir a Murray, after thysell,
  Have land in Ettricke Foreste frie.”

  “It stands me hard,” the Outlaw said;
  “Judge gif it stands na hard wi’ me! 
  Wha reck not losing of mysell,
  But a’ my offspring after me.

  “My merryemen’s lives, my widowe’s teirs—­
  There lies the pang that pinches me! 
  When I am straught in bluidie eard,
  Yon castell will be right dreirie.

  “Auld Halliday, young Halliday,
  Ye sall be twa to gang wi’ me;
  Andrew Murray, and Sir James Murray,
  We’ll be nae mae in cumpanie.”

  When that they cam befor the king,
  They fell befor him on their kne—­
  “Grant mercie, mercie, nobil king! 
  E’en for his sake that dyed on trie.”

  “Sicken like mercie sall ye have;
  On gallows ye sall hangit be!”
  “Over God’s forbode,” quoth the Outlaw then,
  “I hope your grace will bettir be! 
  Else, ere ye come to Edinburgh port,
  I trow thin guarded sall ye be: 

  “Thir landis of Ettricke Foreste feir,
  I wan them from the enemie;
  Like as I wan them, sae will I keep them,
  Contrair a’ kingis in Christentie.”

  All the nobilis the king about,
  Said pitie it were to see him die—­
  “Yet graunt me mercie, sovereign prince! 
  Extend your favour unto me!

  “I’ll give thee the keys of my castell,
  Wi’ the blessing o’ my gaye ladye,
  Gin thoul’t mak me sheriffe of this Foreste,
  And a’ my offspring after me.”

  “Wilt thou give me the keys of thy castell,
  Wi’ the blessing of thy gaye ladye? 
  I’se mak thee sheriffe of Ettricke Foreste,
  Surely while upwards grows the trie;
  If you be not traitour to the king,
  Forfaulted sall thou nevir be.”

  “But, prince, what sall cum o’ my men? 
  When I gae back, traitour they’ll ca’ me. 
  I had rather lose my life and land,
  E’er my merryemen rebuked me.”

  “Will your merryemen amend their lives? 
  And a’ their pardons I graunt thee—­
  Now, name thy landis where’er they lie,
  And here I RENDER them to thee.”

  “Fair Philiphaugh is mine by right,
  And Lewinshope still mine shall be;
  Newark, Foulshiells, and Tinnies baith,
  My bow and arrow purchased me.

  “And I have native steads to me,
  The Newark Lee and Hangingshaw;
  I have mony steads in the Foreste shaw,
  But them by name I dinna knaw.”

  The keys o’ the castell he gave the king,
  Wi’ the blessing o’ his feir ladye;
  He was made sheriffe of Ettricke Foreste,
  Surely while upwards grows the trie;
  And if he was na traitour to the king,
  Forfaulted he suld nevir be.