Explore "Muckle-Mouth Meg" by Robert Browning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Frowned the Laird on the Lord: "So, red-handed I catch thee? / Death-doomed by our Law of the Border! / We 've a gallows outside and a chiel to dispatch thee: / Who trespasses -- hangs: all 's in order."
He met frown with smile, did the young English gallant: / Then the Laird's dame: "Nay, Husband, I beg! / He 's comely: be merciful! Grace for the callant / -- If he marries our Muckle-mouth Meg!"