June Tabor - Hughie Graeme lyrics

Lords have to the mountains gone
A huntin' of the fallow deer
They have grippit Hughie Graeme for
Stealing of the bishop's mare
They have bought him hand and foot
Led him up through Carlisle town
All the lads along the
Way cried "Hughie Graeme, you shall hang"

"Loose my right arm free, " he said
"Put my broadsword in my hand
There's none in Carlisle town this day
Dare tell the tale to Hughie Graeme"

Up and spoke the good Whitefoord as
He sat by the bishop's knee
"Five hundred white stots I'll give you if
You give Hughie Graeme to me"
"Hold your tongue, my noble lord
And as of your pleading, let it be
Although ten Graemes were in his coat
Hughie Graeme this day shall die"

Up and spoke the fair Whitefoord as
She sat by the bishop's knee
"Five hundred white pence I'll give you if
You let Hughie Grame go free"
"Hold your tongue, my lady fair
And as of your weeping, let it be
Although ten Graemes were in his coat
It's for my honor he must die"

They've ta'en him to the hanging hill and
Led him by the gallows tree
Ne'er did color leave his cheek
Nor ever did he blink his eye
Then he's looked him roundabout
All for to see what he could see
Then he saw his father dear, weeping
Weeping bitterly

"Hold your tongue, my father dear
And as of your weeping, let it be
It sorer
Sorer grieves my heart than all that
They could do to me

And you may give my brother James my
Sword that's made of the metal clear
Bid him come at twelve of the clock
And see me pay the bishop's mare
And you may give my brother John my
Sword that's made of the metal brown
Bid him come at four of the clock
And see his brother Hugh cut down

Remember me to Maggie my wife the next
Time she comes o'er the moor
Tell 'er she stole the bishop's mare
Tell 'er she was the bishop's whore

And you may tell my kith and kin
I never did disgrace their blood
When next they meet the bishop's cloak
Leave it shorter by the hood!"