F

Motherwell's MS., p. 113; from the recitation of T. Risk.

1McNaughton's unto England gane,The king's banner to bear:'O do you see yon castle, boy?It's walled round about;There you will spy a fair ladye,In the window looking out.'2'Here is a silken sark, fair lady,Thine own hand sewed the sleeve,And thou must go to yon green wood,To Johnnie thy true-love.'3'The castle it is high, my boy,And walled round about;My feet are in the fetters strong,And how can I get out?4'My garters o the gude black iron,And they are very cold;My breast plate's of the sturdy steel,Instead of beaten gold.5'But had I paper, pen and ink,And candle at my command,It's I would write a lang letterTo John in fair Scotland.'6The first line that Johnnie looked on,A loud, loud lauch leuch he;The second line that Johnnie looked on,The tear did blind his ee.7Says, I must unto England go,Whatever me betide,For to relieve my own fair lady,That lay last by my side.8Then up and spoke Johnnie's auld mither,A well spoke woman was she:If you do go to England, Johnnie,I may take farewell o thee.9Then up and spoke Johnnie's old father,A well spoke man was he:It's twenty-four of my gay troopShall go along with thee.10When Johnie was on saddle set,Right comely to be seen,There was not so much as a married manIn Johnie's companie;There was not so much as a married man,Not a one only but ane.11The first gude toun that Johnie came to,He made the bells be rung;The next gude toun that Johnie came to,He made the psalms be sung.12The next gude toun that Johnie came to,He made the drums beat round,Till the king and all his merry menA-marvelled at the sound.13'Are you the Duke of Mulberry,Or James, our Scotish king?Are you the Duke of Mulberry,From Scotland new come home?'14'I'm not the Duke of Mulberry,Nor James, our Scotish king;But I am a true Scotishman,McNaughtoun is my name.'15'If McNaughtoun be your name,' he said,'As I trew well it be,The fairest lady in a' my courtShe goes with child to thee.16'If McNauchton be your name,' he said,'As I trew well it be,Tomorrow morn by eight o clockO hanged you shall be.'17O Johnie had a bonnie little boy,His name was Germany:'Before that we be all hanged, my sovereign,We'll fight you till we die.'18'Say on, say on, my bonnie little boy,It is well spoken of thee,For there is a campioun in my courtShall fight you three by three.'19Next morning about eight o'clockThe king and his merry men,The queen and all her maidens fair,Came whistling down the green,To see the cruel fight begin,And see poor Johnnie slain.20They fought on, and Johnie fought on,Wi swords of tempered steel,Until the drops of red, red bloodRan prinkling down the field.21They fought on, and Johnie fought on,They fought so manfullieThey left not a man alive in all the king's court,Not a man only but three.22'A priest, a priest,' poor Johnie cries,'To wed my love and me;''A clerk, a clerk,' the king did cry,'To write her portion free.'23'I'll have none of your gold,' he says,'Nor none of your white money,But I will have mine own fair lady,Who has been dear to me.'24Johnie put a horn unto his mouth,He blew it wondrous schill;The sound is unto Scotland gane,Sair against all their will.25He put his horn to his mouth,He blew it ower again,And aye the sound the horn cried,'McNaughtoun's cure to them!'

1McNaughton's unto England gane,The king's banner to bear:'O do you see yon castle, boy?It's walled round about;There you will spy a fair ladye,In the window looking out.'

2'Here is a silken sark, fair lady,Thine own hand sewed the sleeve,And thou must go to yon green wood,To Johnnie thy true-love.'

3'The castle it is high, my boy,And walled round about;My feet are in the fetters strong,And how can I get out?

4'My garters o the gude black iron,And they are very cold;My breast plate's of the sturdy steel,Instead of beaten gold.

5'But had I paper, pen and ink,And candle at my command,It's I would write a lang letterTo John in fair Scotland.'

6The first line that Johnnie looked on,A loud, loud lauch leuch he;The second line that Johnnie looked on,The tear did blind his ee.

7Says, I must unto England go,Whatever me betide,For to relieve my own fair lady,That lay last by my side.

8Then up and spoke Johnnie's auld mither,A well spoke woman was she:If you do go to England, Johnnie,I may take farewell o thee.

9Then up and spoke Johnnie's old father,A well spoke man was he:It's twenty-four of my gay troopShall go along with thee.

10When Johnie was on saddle set,Right comely to be seen,There was not so much as a married manIn Johnie's companie;There was not so much as a married man,Not a one only but ane.

11The first gude toun that Johnie came to,He made the bells be rung;The next gude toun that Johnie came to,He made the psalms be sung.

12The next gude toun that Johnie came to,He made the drums beat round,Till the king and all his merry menA-marvelled at the sound.

13'Are you the Duke of Mulberry,Or James, our Scotish king?Are you the Duke of Mulberry,From Scotland new come home?'

14'I'm not the Duke of Mulberry,Nor James, our Scotish king;But I am a true Scotishman,McNaughtoun is my name.'

15'If McNaughtoun be your name,' he said,'As I trew well it be,The fairest lady in a' my courtShe goes with child to thee.

16'If McNauchton be your name,' he said,'As I trew well it be,Tomorrow morn by eight o clockO hanged you shall be.'

17O Johnie had a bonnie little boy,His name was Germany:'Before that we be all hanged, my sovereign,We'll fight you till we die.'

18'Say on, say on, my bonnie little boy,It is well spoken of thee,For there is a campioun in my courtShall fight you three by three.'

19Next morning about eight o'clockThe king and his merry men,The queen and all her maidens fair,Came whistling down the green,To see the cruel fight begin,And see poor Johnnie slain.

20They fought on, and Johnie fought on,Wi swords of tempered steel,Until the drops of red, red bloodRan prinkling down the field.

21They fought on, and Johnie fought on,They fought so manfullieThey left not a man alive in all the king's court,Not a man only but three.

22'A priest, a priest,' poor Johnie cries,'To wed my love and me;''A clerk, a clerk,' the king did cry,'To write her portion free.'

23'I'll have none of your gold,' he says,'Nor none of your white money,But I will have mine own fair lady,Who has been dear to me.'

24Johnie put a horn unto his mouth,He blew it wondrous schill;The sound is unto Scotland gane,Sair against all their will.

25He put his horn to his mouth,He blew it ower again,And aye the sound the horn cried,'McNaughtoun's cure to them!'

Motherwell's MS., p. 211; from the recitation of Agnes Laird, Kilbarchan, 21 June, 1825.

1Word has to the kitchen gane,And word has to the ha,And word has to the king himsell,In the chamber where he sat,That his ae daughter gaes wi bairnTo bonnie Johnie Scot.2Word has to the kitchen gane,And word has to the ha,And word has to the queen hersell,In the chamber where she sat,That her ae dochter gaes wi bairnTo bonnie Johnie Scot.3'O if she be wi bairn,' he says,'As I trew well she be,We'll put her in a prison strang,And try her verity.'4'O if she be wi bairn,' she says,'As I trew weel she be,We'll put her in a dungeon dark,And hunger her till she die.'5Now she has written a letter,And sealed it with her hand,And sent it unto Johnie Scot,To come at her command.6The first lang line that he looked to,He laughed at the same;The neist lang line that he did read,The tears did blin his een.7'Once more to England I must go,May God be my sure guide!And all to see that lady fairThat last lay by my side.'8Then out bespoke our Scotish king,And he spoke manfullie:I and three thousand of my guardsWill bear you companye.9They all were mounted on horseback,So gallantly they rode;The hair that hung owre Johnie's shouldersWas like the links of goud.10When they came to the king of England's gate,They knocked at the pin;So ready was the king himsellTo open and let them in.11'Are you the Duke [of York],' he says,'Or are ye the King of Spain?Or are ye some of the gay Scots boys,From hunting now come hame?'12'I am not the Duke of York,' he says,'Nor yet the King of Spain;But I am one of the gay Scots boys,From hunting just come hame.'13'If you are one of the Scots boys,As I trew weel you be,The fairest lady in my hallGaes big wi child to thee.'14'Then if she be wi bairn,' he says,'As I trew weel she be,I'll make him heir of a' my gear,And her my fair ladye.'15'If she be wi bairn,' her father says,'As I trew weel she be,Before the morn at ten o'clockHigh hanged thou shall be.'16Then out bespake our Scotish king,And he spoke manfullie:Before that Johnie Scott be slain,We'll all fight till we die.17'I have a Talliant in my houseWe'll fight your men by three;''Bring out your trooper,' Johnie says,'For fain I would him see.'18Some gade unto the high mountain,Some gade unto the plain,Some at high windows looked out,To see poor Johnie slain.19The Talliant he fought on a while,Thinking Johnie would retire,And then he, like a swallow swifte,Owre Johnie's head did flee.20But Johnie was a clever man,And turned about with speed,And on the edge of his broadswordHe slew the Talliant dead.21Then he has brought the lady out,And sat her on a dapple-gray,And being mounted on before,They briskly rode away.22Now the honour unto Scotland came,In spite of England's skill;The honour unto Scotland cameIn spite of England's will.

1Word has to the kitchen gane,And word has to the ha,And word has to the king himsell,In the chamber where he sat,That his ae daughter gaes wi bairnTo bonnie Johnie Scot.

2Word has to the kitchen gane,And word has to the ha,And word has to the queen hersell,In the chamber where she sat,That her ae dochter gaes wi bairnTo bonnie Johnie Scot.

3'O if she be wi bairn,' he says,'As I trew well she be,We'll put her in a prison strang,And try her verity.'

4'O if she be wi bairn,' she says,'As I trew weel she be,We'll put her in a dungeon dark,And hunger her till she die.'

5Now she has written a letter,And sealed it with her hand,And sent it unto Johnie Scot,To come at her command.

6The first lang line that he looked to,He laughed at the same;The neist lang line that he did read,The tears did blin his een.

7'Once more to England I must go,May God be my sure guide!And all to see that lady fairThat last lay by my side.'

8Then out bespoke our Scotish king,And he spoke manfullie:I and three thousand of my guardsWill bear you companye.

9They all were mounted on horseback,So gallantly they rode;The hair that hung owre Johnie's shouldersWas like the links of goud.

10When they came to the king of England's gate,They knocked at the pin;So ready was the king himsellTo open and let them in.

11'Are you the Duke [of York],' he says,'Or are ye the King of Spain?Or are ye some of the gay Scots boys,From hunting now come hame?'

12'I am not the Duke of York,' he says,'Nor yet the King of Spain;But I am one of the gay Scots boys,From hunting just come hame.'

13'If you are one of the Scots boys,As I trew weel you be,The fairest lady in my hallGaes big wi child to thee.'

14'Then if she be wi bairn,' he says,'As I trew weel she be,I'll make him heir of a' my gear,And her my fair ladye.'

15'If she be wi bairn,' her father says,'As I trew weel she be,Before the morn at ten o'clockHigh hanged thou shall be.'

16Then out bespake our Scotish king,And he spoke manfullie:Before that Johnie Scott be slain,We'll all fight till we die.

17'I have a Talliant in my houseWe'll fight your men by three;''Bring out your trooper,' Johnie says,'For fain I would him see.'

18Some gade unto the high mountain,Some gade unto the plain,Some at high windows looked out,To see poor Johnie slain.

19The Talliant he fought on a while,Thinking Johnie would retire,And then he, like a swallow swifte,Owre Johnie's head did flee.

20But Johnie was a clever man,And turned about with speed,And on the edge of his broadswordHe slew the Talliant dead.

21Then he has brought the lady out,And sat her on a dapple-gray,And being mounted on before,They briskly rode away.

22Now the honour unto Scotland came,In spite of England's skill;The honour unto Scotland cameIn spite of England's will.

Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 35, Motherwell MS., p. 394; from the singing of Agnes Lyle, of Kilbarchan, 24 August, 1825.

1Johnie Scott's a hunting gone,To England woods so wild,Until the king's old dochter dearShe goes to him with child.2'If she be with bairn,' her mother says,'As I trew weel she be,We'll put her in a dark dungeon,And hunger her till she die.'3'If she be with bairn,' her father says,'As oh forbid she be!We'll put her in a prison strong,And try the veritie.'4The king did write a long letter,Sealed it with his own hand,And he sent it to Johnie Scot,To speak at his command.5When Johnie read this letter long,The tear blindit his ee:'I must away to Old England;King Edward writes for me.'6Out and spak his mother dear,She spoke aye in time:Son, if thou go to Old England,I fear thou'll neer come hame.7Out and spoke a Scotish prince,And a weel spoke man was he:Here's four and twenty o my braw troops,To bear thee companie.8Away they gade, awa they rade,Away they rade so slie;There was not a maried man that dayIn Johnie's companie.9The first good town that they passed thro,They made their bells to ring;The next good town that they passed thro,They made their music sing.10The next gude town that they passed thro,They made their drums beat round,The king and a' his gay armiesAdmiring at the sound.11When they came to the king's court,They travelled round about,And there he spied his own true-love,At a window looking out.12'O fain wald I come down,' she says,'Of that ye needna dout;But my garters they're of cauld, cauld iron,And I can no win out.13'My garters they're of cauld, cauld iron,And it is very cold;My breast-plate is of sturdy steel,Instead o beaten gold.'14Out and spoke the king himsell,And an angry man was he:The fairest lady in a' my court,She goes with child to thee.15'If your old doughter be with child,As I trew weel she be,I'le make it heir of a' my land,And her my gay lady.'16'There is a Talliant in my court,This day he's killed three;And gin the morn by ten o'clockHe'll kill thy men and thee.'17Johnie took sword into his hand,And walked cross the plain;There was many a weeping lady there,To see young Johnie slain.18The Talliant never knowing this,Now he'll be Johnie's dead,But, like unto a swallow swift,He flew out owre his head.19Johnie was a valliant man,Weel taught in war was he,And on the point of his broad swordThe Talliant stickit he.20Johnie took sword into his hand,And walked cross the plain:'Are there here any more of your English dogsThat's wanting to be slain?21'A priest, a priest,' young Johnie cries,'To wed my bride and me;''A clerk, a clerk,' her father cries,'To tell her tocher wi.'22'I'm wanting none of your gold,' he says,'As little of your gear;But give me just mine own true-love,I think I've won her dear.'23Johnie sets horn into his mouth,And he blew loud and schrill;The honour it's to Scotland come,Sore against England's will.

1Johnie Scott's a hunting gone,To England woods so wild,Until the king's old dochter dearShe goes to him with child.

2'If she be with bairn,' her mother says,'As I trew weel she be,We'll put her in a dark dungeon,And hunger her till she die.'

3'If she be with bairn,' her father says,'As oh forbid she be!We'll put her in a prison strong,And try the veritie.'

4The king did write a long letter,Sealed it with his own hand,And he sent it to Johnie Scot,To speak at his command.

5When Johnie read this letter long,The tear blindit his ee:'I must away to Old England;King Edward writes for me.'

6Out and spak his mother dear,She spoke aye in time:Son, if thou go to Old England,I fear thou'll neer come hame.

7Out and spoke a Scotish prince,And a weel spoke man was he:Here's four and twenty o my braw troops,To bear thee companie.

8Away they gade, awa they rade,Away they rade so slie;There was not a maried man that dayIn Johnie's companie.

9The first good town that they passed thro,They made their bells to ring;The next good town that they passed thro,They made their music sing.

10The next gude town that they passed thro,They made their drums beat round,The king and a' his gay armiesAdmiring at the sound.

11When they came to the king's court,They travelled round about,And there he spied his own true-love,At a window looking out.

12'O fain wald I come down,' she says,'Of that ye needna dout;But my garters they're of cauld, cauld iron,And I can no win out.

13'My garters they're of cauld, cauld iron,And it is very cold;My breast-plate is of sturdy steel,Instead o beaten gold.'

14Out and spoke the king himsell,And an angry man was he:The fairest lady in a' my court,She goes with child to thee.

15'If your old doughter be with child,As I trew weel she be,I'le make it heir of a' my land,And her my gay lady.'

16'There is a Talliant in my court,This day he's killed three;And gin the morn by ten o'clockHe'll kill thy men and thee.'

17Johnie took sword into his hand,And walked cross the plain;There was many a weeping lady there,To see young Johnie slain.

18The Talliant never knowing this,Now he'll be Johnie's dead,But, like unto a swallow swift,He flew out owre his head.

19Johnie was a valliant man,Weel taught in war was he,And on the point of his broad swordThe Talliant stickit he.

20Johnie took sword into his hand,And walked cross the plain:'Are there here any more of your English dogsThat's wanting to be slain?

21'A priest, a priest,' young Johnie cries,'To wed my bride and me;''A clerk, a clerk,' her father cries,'To tell her tocher wi.'

22'I'm wanting none of your gold,' he says,'As little of your gear;But give me just mine own true-love,I think I've won her dear.'

23Johnie sets horn into his mouth,And he blew loud and schrill;The honour it's to Scotland come,Sore against England's will.

Kinloch MSS, VI, 53, in an unknown hand.

1'Where will I gett a bony boy,That would fain win hose and shoon,That will go on to yon palace,Aud haste him back again?'2'Here am I, a bony boy,That would fain win hose and shoon,That will go on to yon palace,And haste me back again.'3'When you come to yon palace,You'l run it round about;There you'l see a gay lady,At the window looking out.4'Give hir this shirt of silk,Hir own hand sewed the slive,And bid her come to good green woods,Spear no hir parents' leave.5'Give hir this shirt of silk, boy,Hir own hand sewed the gare;You'l bid her come to good green woods,Love Johny, I'll meet hir there.'6When he came to yon palace,He ran it round about,And there he saw a gay lady,At the window looking out.7'Take here this shirt of silk, lady,Your own hand sewed the slive;You're biden come to good green woods,Spire no your parents' leave.8'Take here this shirt of silk, lady,Your own hand sewed the gare;You're biden come to good green woods,Love Johny'll meet you there.'9'The staunchens they are strong, boy,Dear, vow but they are stout!My feet they are in strong fetters,And how shall I win out?10'My garters is of the cold iron,Dear, vow but they are cold!And three splits of the sturdy steel,Instead of beaten goold.11'But I will write a braud leter,And sign it with my hand,And I will send it to Love Johny,Weel may he understand.'12And she has wrote [a] braud leter,And signd it with hir hand,And sent it on to Love Jony,Weel did he understand.13When he got this letter,A light laugh did he gie;But or he read it half down through,The salt tears blinded 's ee.14Says, I'll awa to fair England,What ever may betide,And all is for the fair ladyThat lay close by my side.15Out it spoke Jony's mother,And she spoke ay through pride;Says, If ye go to fair England,Sir, better to you bide.16When Jony was on his sadle set,And seemly to behold,Every tet o Love Jony's hairWas like the threads of goold.17When Jony was on his sadle set,And seemly for to see,There was not a maried manIn a' Jony's company.18The first town that they came till,They gard the bells be rung;The next town that they came till,They gard the mess bee sung.19When they came to the king's palace,The drums they did beat round,And the quien and her marys allAmased at the sound.20'Is this the Duke of Mulberry,Or James, our Scottish king?Or is it any noble lordThat's going a visiting?'21'It's not the Duke of Mulberry,Nor James, our Scottish king;But it is Jack, the Little Scot,And Auchney is his name.'22'If Auchney bee your name,' he said,'As I trust weel it be,The fairest lady in all my courtShe goes with bairn to the.'23'If she be with bairn,' he said,'As I doubt not nor she be,I will make it heir oer all my land,And hir my gay lady.'24The king he swore a solemn oath,And a solemn oath swore he,'The morn, before I eat or drink,High hanged he shall be!'* * * * *25The king and his nobles allWent out into the plain,And the quen and hir marys all,To see Love Johny slain.26They fought up, and they fought down,With swords of temperd steel,But not a drop of Johny's bloodIn that day he did spill.27Out they brought the Itilian,And a greecy ghost was he,But by the edge o Love Johny's swordThat Itilian did die.28Johny's taen his neat drawn sword,And stript it to the stran:'Is there any more of your English dogsThat wants for to be slain?'29'A clerck, a clerck,' now says the king,'To sign her tocher free;''A priest, a priest,' said Love Johny,'To mary my dear and me.30'I fought not for your goold, your goold,I fought not for your gear,But I fought for my rose Mary,And vow! I've bought hir dear.'

1'Where will I gett a bony boy,That would fain win hose and shoon,That will go on to yon palace,Aud haste him back again?'

2'Here am I, a bony boy,That would fain win hose and shoon,That will go on to yon palace,And haste me back again.'

3'When you come to yon palace,You'l run it round about;There you'l see a gay lady,At the window looking out.

4'Give hir this shirt of silk,Hir own hand sewed the slive,And bid her come to good green woods,Spear no hir parents' leave.

5'Give hir this shirt of silk, boy,Hir own hand sewed the gare;You'l bid her come to good green woods,Love Johny, I'll meet hir there.'

6When he came to yon palace,He ran it round about,And there he saw a gay lady,At the window looking out.

7'Take here this shirt of silk, lady,Your own hand sewed the slive;You're biden come to good green woods,Spire no your parents' leave.

8'Take here this shirt of silk, lady,Your own hand sewed the gare;You're biden come to good green woods,Love Johny'll meet you there.'

9'The staunchens they are strong, boy,Dear, vow but they are stout!My feet they are in strong fetters,And how shall I win out?

10'My garters is of the cold iron,Dear, vow but they are cold!And three splits of the sturdy steel,Instead of beaten goold.

11'But I will write a braud leter,And sign it with my hand,And I will send it to Love Johny,Weel may he understand.'

12And she has wrote [a] braud leter,And signd it with hir hand,And sent it on to Love Jony,Weel did he understand.

13When he got this letter,A light laugh did he gie;But or he read it half down through,The salt tears blinded 's ee.

14Says, I'll awa to fair England,What ever may betide,And all is for the fair ladyThat lay close by my side.

15Out it spoke Jony's mother,And she spoke ay through pride;Says, If ye go to fair England,Sir, better to you bide.

16When Jony was on his sadle set,And seemly to behold,Every tet o Love Jony's hairWas like the threads of goold.

17When Jony was on his sadle set,And seemly for to see,There was not a maried manIn a' Jony's company.

18The first town that they came till,They gard the bells be rung;The next town that they came till,They gard the mess bee sung.

19When they came to the king's palace,The drums they did beat round,And the quien and her marys allAmased at the sound.

20'Is this the Duke of Mulberry,Or James, our Scottish king?Or is it any noble lordThat's going a visiting?'

21'It's not the Duke of Mulberry,Nor James, our Scottish king;But it is Jack, the Little Scot,And Auchney is his name.'

22'If Auchney bee your name,' he said,'As I trust weel it be,The fairest lady in all my courtShe goes with bairn to the.'

23'If she be with bairn,' he said,'As I doubt not nor she be,I will make it heir oer all my land,And hir my gay lady.'

24The king he swore a solemn oath,And a solemn oath swore he,'The morn, before I eat or drink,High hanged he shall be!'

* * * * *

25The king and his nobles allWent out into the plain,And the quen and hir marys all,To see Love Johny slain.

26They fought up, and they fought down,With swords of temperd steel,But not a drop of Johny's bloodIn that day he did spill.

27Out they brought the Itilian,And a greecy ghost was he,But by the edge o Love Johny's swordThat Itilian did die.

28Johny's taen his neat drawn sword,And stript it to the stran:'Is there any more of your English dogsThat wants for to be slain?'

29'A clerck, a clerck,' now says the king,'To sign her tocher free;''A priest, a priest,' said Love Johny,'To mary my dear and me.

30'I fought not for your goold, your goold,I fought not for your gear,But I fought for my rose Mary,And vow! I've bought hir dear.'

Kinloch MSS, VII, 39, 41, 43, 45, 47, 49.

1Johnie is up to London gane,Three quarters o the year,And he is up to London gane,The king's banner for to bear.2He had na been in fair LondonA twalmonth and a day,Till the king's ae daughterTo Johnie gangs wi child.3O word is to the kitchen gane,And word is to the ha,And word is to the king himselAmang his nobles a'.* * * * *4She has wrote a braid letter,She has wrote it tenderly,And she's wrote a braid letter,To lat her Johnie see5That her bower is very high,It's aw weel walled about;Her feet are in the fetters strang,Her body looking out.6Her garters are of cauld iron,And they are very cold;Her breist-plate is o the sturdy steel,Instead o the beaten gold.7Whan he lookit the letter on,A licht lauch gaed he;But eer he read it til an end,The tear blindit his ee.8'I maun up to London gang,Whatever me betide,And louse that lady out o prison strang;She lay last by my side.'9Up spak Johnie's ae best man,That stood by Johnie's knie:Ye'll get twenty four o my best men,To bear ye companie.10When Johnie was in his saddle set,A pleasant sicht to see,There was na ae married manIn Johnie's companie.11The first toun that he cam till,He made the mass be sung;The niest toun that he cam till,He made the bells be rung.12When he cam to fair London,He made the drums gae round;The king and his nobles awThey marvelld at the sound.13'Is this the Duke of Winesberry,Or James, the Scotish king?Or is it a young gentleman,That wants for to be in?'14'It's na the Duke of Winesberry,Nor James, the Scotish king;But it is a young gentleman,Buneftan is his name.'15Up spak the king himsel,An angry man was he:The morn eer I eat or drinkHie hangit sall he be.16Up spak Johnie's ae best man,That stood by Johnie's knie:Afore our master he be slainWe'll aw fecht till we die.17Up spak the king himsel,And up spak he:I have an Italian in my courtThat will fecht ye manifullie.18'If ye hae an Italian in your court,Fu fain wad I him see;If ye hae an Italian in your court,Ye may bring him here to me.'19The king and his nobles awWent tripping doun the plain,Wi the queen and her maries aw,To see fair Johnie slain.20Even anent the prison-doorThe battle did begin;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .21They foucht up, and they foucht doun,Wi swerds o tempered steel,Til Johnie wi his gude braidswerdMade the Italian for to yield.22He has kickd him with his foot,And he has kickd him oure the plain;'Onie mair Italians in your courtYe want for to be slain?'23'A clerk, a clerk,' the king cried,'To sign her tocher-fee;''A priest, a priest,' young Johnie said,'To marry her and me.24For I want nane o your gowd,Nor nane o your weel won fee;I only want your fair dochter,I have won her mannfullie.'

1Johnie is up to London gane,Three quarters o the year,And he is up to London gane,The king's banner for to bear.

2He had na been in fair LondonA twalmonth and a day,Till the king's ae daughterTo Johnie gangs wi child.

3O word is to the kitchen gane,And word is to the ha,And word is to the king himselAmang his nobles a'.

* * * * *

4She has wrote a braid letter,She has wrote it tenderly,And she's wrote a braid letter,To lat her Johnie see

5That her bower is very high,It's aw weel walled about;Her feet are in the fetters strang,Her body looking out.

6Her garters are of cauld iron,And they are very cold;Her breist-plate is o the sturdy steel,Instead o the beaten gold.

7Whan he lookit the letter on,A licht lauch gaed he;But eer he read it til an end,The tear blindit his ee.

8'I maun up to London gang,Whatever me betide,And louse that lady out o prison strang;She lay last by my side.'

9Up spak Johnie's ae best man,That stood by Johnie's knie:Ye'll get twenty four o my best men,To bear ye companie.

10When Johnie was in his saddle set,A pleasant sicht to see,There was na ae married manIn Johnie's companie.

11The first toun that he cam till,He made the mass be sung;The niest toun that he cam till,He made the bells be rung.

12When he cam to fair London,He made the drums gae round;The king and his nobles awThey marvelld at the sound.

13'Is this the Duke of Winesberry,Or James, the Scotish king?Or is it a young gentleman,That wants for to be in?'

14'It's na the Duke of Winesberry,Nor James, the Scotish king;But it is a young gentleman,Buneftan is his name.'

15Up spak the king himsel,An angry man was he:The morn eer I eat or drinkHie hangit sall he be.

16Up spak Johnie's ae best man,That stood by Johnie's knie:Afore our master he be slainWe'll aw fecht till we die.

17Up spak the king himsel,And up spak he:I have an Italian in my courtThat will fecht ye manifullie.

18'If ye hae an Italian in your court,Fu fain wad I him see;If ye hae an Italian in your court,Ye may bring him here to me.'

19The king and his nobles awWent tripping doun the plain,Wi the queen and her maries aw,To see fair Johnie slain.

20Even anent the prison-doorThe battle did begin;. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

21They foucht up, and they foucht doun,Wi swerds o tempered steel,Til Johnie wi his gude braidswerdMade the Italian for to yield.

22He has kickd him with his foot,And he has kickd him oure the plain;'Onie mair Italians in your courtYe want for to be slain?'

23'A clerk, a clerk,' the king cried,'To sign her tocher-fee;''A priest, a priest,' young Johnie said,'To marry her and me.

24For I want nane o your gowd,Nor nane o your weel won fee;I only want your fair dochter,I have won her mannfullie.'

Kinloch MSS, VII, 40, 42, 46, 49.

1O word is to the queen hersel,In parlour whare she sat,That the king's dochter goes wi childTo Jock, that little Scot.2O word is to the king himsel,And an angry man was he;Says, I will put her in cold prison,And hunger her till she dee.3The ladie was laid in cold prison,By the king, a grievous man;And up and starts a little boy,Upon her window-stane.4Says, Here's a silken shift, ladye,Your ane hand sewed the sleeve,And ye maun gang to yon greenwud,And of your freends speir na leave.5'My bouer is very hie,' said the lady,'And it's wondrous hie round about;My feet are lockit in the iron fetters,And how can I get out?6'But I will write a braid letter,And seal it tenderlie,And send it to yon greenwud,And let young Johnie see.'7O Johnie's to his father gane,And til him did say,O I maun up to London, father,And fecht for that lady gay.8His father spak but ae word,Says, I speak it in time;For an ye gang to London, Johnie,I fear your coming hame.9And out and spak anither youth,And a pretty youth was he:Afore I see young Johnie dungI'll fecht for him till I dee.* * * * *10He has wallowd it, he has wallowd it,He's wallowd it again;Cries, Onie mae o your English dogsThat wants for to be slain?11He set the horn until his mouth,And he has blawn baith loud and shill;The victor's doun to Scotland gane,Richt sair against their will.

1O word is to the queen hersel,In parlour whare she sat,That the king's dochter goes wi childTo Jock, that little Scot.

2O word is to the king himsel,And an angry man was he;Says, I will put her in cold prison,And hunger her till she dee.

3The ladie was laid in cold prison,By the king, a grievous man;And up and starts a little boy,Upon her window-stane.

4Says, Here's a silken shift, ladye,Your ane hand sewed the sleeve,And ye maun gang to yon greenwud,And of your freends speir na leave.

5'My bouer is very hie,' said the lady,'And it's wondrous hie round about;My feet are lockit in the iron fetters,And how can I get out?

6'But I will write a braid letter,And seal it tenderlie,And send it to yon greenwud,And let young Johnie see.'

7O Johnie's to his father gane,And til him did say,O I maun up to London, father,And fecht for that lady gay.

8His father spak but ae word,Says, I speak it in time;For an ye gang to London, Johnie,I fear your coming hame.

9And out and spak anither youth,And a pretty youth was he:Afore I see young Johnie dungI'll fecht for him till I dee.

* * * * *

10He has wallowd it, he has wallowd it,He's wallowd it again;Cries, Onie mae o your English dogsThat wants for to be slain?

11He set the horn until his mouth,And he has blawn baith loud and shill;The victor's doun to Scotland gane,Richt sair against their will.

Kinloch MSS, I, 311.

1Johnie's up to England gane,Three quarters o a year;Johnie's up to England gane,The king's banner to bear.2He had not in fair England beenA month 'twas barely ane,When the fairest lady o the courtTo Johnie wi child is gane.3Word is to the kitchen gane,And word's gane to the ha;Word's gane to the high, high rooms,Among the nobles a'.4And word o't to the king is gane,In the chamber where he sat,His only daughter goes wi childTo Johnie, the Little Scot.5'O if she be wi child,' he says,'As I trow weel she be,I'll lock her up in strong prison,And punish her till she dee.'6Then she has wrote a long letter,And seald it without a blot,And she has sent it to fair Scotland,To Johnie, the Little Scot.7The first line that he did read,In laughter loud was he;But or he gat the hindmost readThe tear blindit his ee.8'Get ready for me the black, black steed,Get ready for me the brown,And saddle to me the swiftest horseEer carried man to town.'9Whan he cam to Edinburgh town,He made the bells to ring,And when he cam to merry Carlisle,He made the monks to sing.10When he cam to the king's gates,He made his drums beat round;The king bot and his nobles a'They wonderd at the sound.11'Is this [the] King of France,' he cried,'Or is't the King of Spain?Or is it Johnie, the Little Scot,That's wanting to be slain?'12'It's neither the King of France,' he said,'Nor is't the King of Spain;But it is Johnie, the Little Scot,That's come to claim his ain.'* * * * *13They foucht it ance, they foucht it twice,They foucht it oure again,Till draps o blood, like draps o rain,War rinning to the plain.14Then Johnie drew a nut-brown brand,And strook it oure the plain,Saying, Are there onie mae o your EnglishmenThat's wanting to be slain?15'A clerk, a clerk,' the king he cried,'To sign her tocher-fee;''A priest, a priest,' then Johnie cried,'To marry my love and me.16'I'll hae nane o your gowd,' he says,'As little o your gear;But I'll hae her, my ain true-love,For I'm sure I've coft her dear.'

1Johnie's up to England gane,Three quarters o a year;Johnie's up to England gane,The king's banner to bear.

2He had not in fair England beenA month 'twas barely ane,When the fairest lady o the courtTo Johnie wi child is gane.

3Word is to the kitchen gane,And word's gane to the ha;Word's gane to the high, high rooms,Among the nobles a'.

4And word o't to the king is gane,In the chamber where he sat,His only daughter goes wi childTo Johnie, the Little Scot.

5'O if she be wi child,' he says,'As I trow weel she be,I'll lock her up in strong prison,And punish her till she dee.'

6Then she has wrote a long letter,And seald it without a blot,And she has sent it to fair Scotland,To Johnie, the Little Scot.

7The first line that he did read,In laughter loud was he;But or he gat the hindmost readThe tear blindit his ee.

8'Get ready for me the black, black steed,Get ready for me the brown,And saddle to me the swiftest horseEer carried man to town.'

9Whan he cam to Edinburgh town,He made the bells to ring,And when he cam to merry Carlisle,He made the monks to sing.

10When he cam to the king's gates,He made his drums beat round;The king bot and his nobles a'They wonderd at the sound.

11'Is this [the] King of France,' he cried,'Or is't the King of Spain?Or is it Johnie, the Little Scot,That's wanting to be slain?'

12'It's neither the King of France,' he said,'Nor is't the King of Spain;But it is Johnie, the Little Scot,That's come to claim his ain.'

* * * * *

13They foucht it ance, they foucht it twice,They foucht it oure again,Till draps o blood, like draps o rain,War rinning to the plain.

14Then Johnie drew a nut-brown brand,And strook it oure the plain,Saying, Are there onie mae o your EnglishmenThat's wanting to be slain?

15'A clerk, a clerk,' the king he cried,'To sign her tocher-fee;''A priest, a priest,' then Johnie cried,'To marry my love and me.

16'I'll hae nane o your gowd,' he says,'As little o your gear;But I'll hae her, my ain true-love,For I'm sure I've coft her dear.'

Campbell MSS, I, 57.

1Johnnie Scott's a hunting gane,To England's woods sae wild;The fairest flower of all EnglandTo Johnnie provd big with child.2It's word's going up, and word's going down,Going to the king's bower,That his dear daughter was with child,That was his daily flower.3'If she be with child,As I suppose she be,I'll put her into prison strong,And hunger her till she die.'4The king he wrote a letter broad,And sealed it with his hands,And sent it down to Johnnie Scott,In Scotland where he stands.5The first line that Johnnie lookd on,A merry man was he;The next line that he lookd on,The salt tears blinded his eye.6Out then spoke his old father,Who neer spoke out of time:And if you go to England, son,I doubt your coming home.7Out then spoke our Scottish James,Sitting low by Johnnie's knee:Fifteen score of my life-guardsShall ride in your company.8When Johnnie came to the king's courtHe rode it round about,And there he spied his own true-love,From the jail-window looking out.9'Come down, true-love,' said Johnnie Scott,'And now you'll ride behind me;Before I leave fair EnglandSome life shall die for thee.'10'My feet are in the fetters strong,I'm belted round about;My breastplate is of the stubborn steel,Instead of beaten gold.'11When Johnnie came to the king's bowerHe tinkled at the ring;Who was so ready as the king himselfTo let proud Johnnie in!12'Are ye the Duke of Marlborough,' he said,'Or James, our Scottish king?Or are you my bastard son,From Scotland new come home?'13'I'm not the Duke of Marlborough,' he said,'Nor James, our Scottish king;But I am just a good Scotch lad,And Johnnie Scott's my name.'14'If you be Johnnie Scott,' says he,'As I suppose you be,The fairest flower in all EnglandIs big with child by thee.'15'If she be big with child,' said he,'As I hope her to be,I'll make it heir of all my lands,And she my gay lady.'16'O no,' then the king he crys,'There's no such thing will be;There is an Italian in my court,And by his hands ye'll die.'17'I'll stand my ground,' says Johnnie Scott,'I'll stand it till I die;I'll stand my ground,' says Johnnie Scott,'One foot I'd scorn to fly.'18When the Italian was brought out,A fearsome sight was he;Between his brows three women's spang,His shoulders was yards three.19As Johnnie, being a crafty lad,Well tried at the sword was he,Upon the point of his broad swordHe made the Italian die.

1Johnnie Scott's a hunting gane,To England's woods sae wild;The fairest flower of all EnglandTo Johnnie provd big with child.

2It's word's going up, and word's going down,Going to the king's bower,That his dear daughter was with child,That was his daily flower.

3'If she be with child,As I suppose she be,I'll put her into prison strong,And hunger her till she die.'

4The king he wrote a letter broad,And sealed it with his hands,And sent it down to Johnnie Scott,In Scotland where he stands.

5The first line that Johnnie lookd on,A merry man was he;The next line that he lookd on,The salt tears blinded his eye.

6Out then spoke his old father,Who neer spoke out of time:And if you go to England, son,I doubt your coming home.

7Out then spoke our Scottish James,Sitting low by Johnnie's knee:Fifteen score of my life-guardsShall ride in your company.

8When Johnnie came to the king's courtHe rode it round about,And there he spied his own true-love,From the jail-window looking out.

9'Come down, true-love,' said Johnnie Scott,'And now you'll ride behind me;Before I leave fair EnglandSome life shall die for thee.'

10'My feet are in the fetters strong,I'm belted round about;My breastplate is of the stubborn steel,Instead of beaten gold.'

11When Johnnie came to the king's bowerHe tinkled at the ring;Who was so ready as the king himselfTo let proud Johnnie in!

12'Are ye the Duke of Marlborough,' he said,'Or James, our Scottish king?Or are you my bastard son,From Scotland new come home?'

13'I'm not the Duke of Marlborough,' he said,'Nor James, our Scottish king;But I am just a good Scotch lad,And Johnnie Scott's my name.'

14'If you be Johnnie Scott,' says he,'As I suppose you be,The fairest flower in all EnglandIs big with child by thee.'

15'If she be big with child,' said he,'As I hope her to be,I'll make it heir of all my lands,And she my gay lady.'

16'O no,' then the king he crys,'There's no such thing will be;There is an Italian in my court,And by his hands ye'll die.'

17'I'll stand my ground,' says Johnnie Scott,'I'll stand it till I die;I'll stand my ground,' says Johnnie Scott,'One foot I'd scorn to fly.'

18When the Italian was brought out,A fearsome sight was he;Between his brows three women's spang,His shoulders was yards three.

19As Johnnie, being a crafty lad,Well tried at the sword was he,Upon the point of his broad swordHe made the Italian die.

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