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XIX.
"Ye English warden lords, of you
Demands the Ladye of Buccleuch,
Why, 'gainst the truce of Border-tide,
In hostile guise, ye dare to ride,
With Kendal bow, and Gilsland brand,
And all yon mercenary band,
Upon the bounds of fair Scotland?
My Ladye reades you swith return;
And, if but one poor straw you burn,
Or do our towers so much molest,
As scare one swallow from her nest,
St Mary! but we'll light a brand
Shall warm your hearths in Cumberland."

XX.
A wrathful man was Dacre's lord,
But calmer Howard took the word—
"May't please thy Dame, Sir Seneschal,
To seek the castle's outward wall;