No: 191; variant: 191B
- OUR lords are to the mountains gane,
A hunting o the fallow deer,
And they hae gripet Hughie Graham,
For stealing o the bishop’s mare.
- And they hae tied him hand and foot,
And led him up thro Stirling town;
The lads and lasses met him there,
Cried, Hughie Graham, thou art a loun!
- ‘O lowse my right hand free,’ he says,
‘And put my braid sword in the same,
He’s no in Stirling town this day
Daur tell the tale to Hughie Graham.’
- Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord,
As he sat by the bishop’s knee:
‘Five hundred white stots I’ll gie you,
If ye’ll let Hughie Graham gae free.’
- ‘O haud your tongue,’ the bishop says,
‘And wi your pleading let me be!
For tho ten Grahams were in his coat,
Highie Graham this day shall die.’
- Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord,
As she sat by the bishop’s knee:
‘Five hundred white pence I’ll gee you,
If ye’ll gie Hughie Graham to me.’
- ‘O haud your tongue now, lady fair,
And wi your pleading let it be!
Altho ten Grahams were in his coat,
It’s for my honour he maun die.’
- They’ve taen him to the gallows-knowe,
He looked to the gallows-tree,
Yet never colour left his cheek,
Nor ever did he blink his ee.
- At length he looked round about,
To see whatever he could spy,
And there he saw his auld father,
And he was weeping bitterly.
- ‘O haud your tongue, my father dear,
And wi your weeping let it be!
Thy weeping’s sairer on my heart
Than a’ that they can do to me.
- ‘And ye may gie my brother John
My sword that’s bent in the middle clear,
And let him come at twelve o’clock,
And see me pay the bishop’s mare.
- ‘And ye may gie my brother James
My sword that’s bent in the middle brown,
And bid him come at four o’clock,
And see his brother High cut down.
- ‘Remember me to Maggy my wife,
The niest time ye gang oer the moor;
Tell her, she staw the bishop’s mare,
Tell her, she was the bishop’s whore.
- ‘And ye may tell my kith and kin
I never did disgrace their blood,
And when they meet the bishop’s cloak,
To mak it shorter by the hood.’