| 1 |
Inverey cam doun Deeside, whistlin and playin,
He was at brave Braikley's yett ere it was dawin. |
| 2 |
He rappit fu loudly and wi a great roar,
Cried, Cum doun, cum doun, Braikley, and open the door. |
| 3 |
'Are ye sleeping, Baronne, or are ye wakin?
Ther's sharpe swords at your yett, will gar your blood spin. |
| 4 |
'Open the yett, Braikley, and lat us within,
Till we on the green turf gar your bluid rin.' |
| 5 |
Out spak the brave baronne, owre the castell-wa:
'Are ye cum to spulyie and plunder mi ha? |
| 6 |
'But gin ye be gentlemen, licht and cum in:
Gin ye drink o my wine, ye'll nae gar my bluid spin. |
| 7 |
'Gin ye be hir'd widifus, ye may gang by,
Ye may gang to the lawlands and steal their fat ky. |
| 8 |
'Ther spulyie like rievers o wyld kettrin clan,
Who plunder unsparing baith houses and lan. |
| 9 |
'Gin ye be gentlemen, licht an cum [in],
Ther's meat an drink i my ha for every man. |
| 10 |
'Gin ye bir'd widifus, ye may gang by,
Gang doun to the lawlands, and steal horse and ky.' |
| 11 |
Up spak his ladie, at his bak where she lay,
'Get up, get up, Braikley, and be not afraid;
The'r but young hir'd widifus wi belted plaids.' |
| 12 |
'Cum kiss me, mi Peggy, I'le nae langer stay,
For I will go out and meet Inverey. |
| 13 |
'But haud your tongue, Peggy, and mak nae sic din,
For yon same hir'd widifus will prove themselves men.' |
| 14 |
She called on her marys, they cam to her hand;
Cries, Bring me your rocks, lassies, we will them command. |
| 15 |
'Get up, get up, Braikley, and turn bak your ky,
Or me an mi women will them defy. |
| 16 |
'Cum forth then, mi maidens, and show them some play;
We'll ficht them, and shortly the cowards will fly. |
| 17 |
'Gin I had a husband, whereas I hae nane,
He woud nae ly i his bed and see his ky taen. |
| 18 |
'Ther's four-and-twenty milk-whit calv5s, tw1l o them ky,
In the woods o Glentanner, it's ther thei a' ly. |
| 19 |
'Ther's goat i the Etnach, and sheep o the brae,
An a' will be plunderd by young Inverey.' |
| 20 |
'Now haud your tongue, Peggy, and gie me a gun,
Ye'll see me gae furth, but I'll never cum in. |
| 21 |
'Call mi brother William, mi unkl also,
Mi cousin James Gordon; we'll mount and we'll go.' |
| 22 |
When Braikley was ready and stood i the closs,
He was the bravest baronne that eer mounted horse. |
| 23 |
Whan all wer assembld o the castell green,
No man like brave Braikley was ther to be seen |
| 24 |
. . . . .
'Turn bak, brother William, ye are a bridegroom; |
| 25 |
'Wi bonnie Jean Gordon, the maid o the mill;
O sichin and sobbin she'll soon get her fill.' |
| 26 |
'I'm no coward, brother, 'tis kend I'm a man;
I'll ficht i your quarral as lang's I can stand. |
| 27 |
'I'll ficht, my dear brother, wi heart and gude will,
And so will young Harry that lives at the mill. |
| 28 |
'But turn, mi dear brother, and nae langer stay:
What'll cum o your ladie, gin Braikley thei slay? |
| 29 |
'What'll cum o your ladie and bonnie young son?
O what'll cum o them when Braikley is gone?' |
| 30 |
'I never will turn: do you think I will fly?
But here I will ficht, and here I will die.' |
| 31 |
'Strik dogs,' crys Inverey, a+end ficht till ye're slayn,
For we are four hundered, ye are but four men. |
| 32 |
'Strik, strik, ye proud boaster, your honour is gone,
Your lands we will plunder, your castell we'll burn.' |
| 33 |
At the head o the Etnach the battel began,
At Little Auchoilzie thei killd the first man. |
| 34 |
First thei killd ane, and soon they killd twa,
Thei killd gallant Braikley, the flour o them a'. |
| 35 |
Thei killd William Gordon, and James o the Knox,
And brave Alexander, the flour o Glenmuick. |
| 36 |
What sichin and moaning was heard i the glen,
For the Baronne o Braikley, who basely was slayn! |
| 37 |
'Cam ye bi the castell, and was ye in there?
Saw ye pretty Peggy tearing her hair?' |
| 38 |
'Yes, I cam by Braikley, and I gaed in there,
And there [saw] his ladie braiding her hair. |
| 39 |
'She was rantin, and dancin, and singin for joy,
And vowin that nicht she woud feest Inverey. |
| 40 |
'She eat wi him, drank wi him, welcomd him in,
Was kind to the man that had slayn her baronne.' |
| 41 |
Up spake the son on the nourice's knee,
'Gin I live to be a man, revenged I'll be.' |
| 42 |
Ther's dool i the kitchin, and mirth i the ha,
The Baronne o Braikley is dead and awa. |
