FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[1206]billy = brother, comrade.[1207]well-wight = stout, sturdy.[1208]For leugh, etc. = He boasted to be of lower Liddesdale. εὔχετο εἶναι.[1209]caukers = calkins.[1210]unkensome = unknown.[1211]beet = abet, aid.[1212]mystery = craft.[1213]leeze me on = commend me to.[1214]port = gate.[1215]tolbooth = gaol.[1216]skeigh = shy.[1217]weil = eddy.[1218]lave = rest.[1219]e’en = even, count as equal.[1220]shame a ma = devil a bit.

[1206]billy = brother, comrade.

[1207]well-wight = stout, sturdy.

[1208]For leugh, etc. = He boasted to be of lower Liddesdale. εὔχετο εἶναι.

[1209]caukers = calkins.

[1210]unkensome = unknown.

[1211]beet = abet, aid.

[1212]mystery = craft.

[1213]leeze me on = commend me to.

[1214]port = gate.

[1215]tolbooth = gaol.

[1216]skeigh = shy.

[1217]weil = eddy.

[1218]lave = rest.

[1219]e’en = even, count as equal.

[1220]shame a ma = devil a bit.

IIt fell about the Martinmas tyde,When our Border steeds get corn and hay,The Captain of Bewcastle bound him to ryde,And he’s ower to Tividale to drive a prey.IIThe first ae guide that they met wi’,It was high up in Hardhaughswire;The second guide that they met wi’,It was laigh[1221]down in Borthwick water.III‘What tidings, what tidings, my trusty guide?’—‘Nae tidings, nae tidings, I hae to thee;But gin ye’ll gae to the fair Dodhead,Mony a cow’s cauf I’ll let thee see.’IVAnd when they cam to the fair Dodhead,Right hastily they clam the peel[1222];They loosed the kye out, ane and a’,And ranshackled the house right weel.VNow Jamie Telfer’s heart was sair,The tear aye rowing[1223]in his ee;He pled wi’ the Captain to hae his gear,Or else revengèd he wad be.VIThe Captain turned him round and leugh;Said—‘Man, there’s naething in thy house,But ae auld sword without a sheath,That hardly now would fell a mouse.’VIIThe sun wasna up, but the moon was down,It was the gryming[1224]of a new-fa’n snaw,Jamie Telfer has run ten myles a-foot,Between the Dodhead and the Stobs’s Ha’.VIIIAnd when he cam to the fair tower-yate,He shouted loud, and cried weel hie,Till out bespak auld Gibby Elliot—‘Whae’s this that brings the fraye[1225]to me?’—IX‘It’s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,And a harried man I think I be!There’s naething left at the fair Dodhead,But a waefu’ wife and bairnies three.’X‘Gae seek your succour at Branksome Ha’,For succour ye’se get nane frae me!Gae seek your succour where ye paid black-mail,For, man, ye ne’er paid money to me.’—XIJamie has turned him round about,I wat the tear blinded his ee—‘I’ll ne’er pay mail to Elliot again,And the fair Dodhead I’ll never see.XII‘My hounds may a’ rin masterless,My hawks may fly frae tree to tree,My lord may grip my vassal lands,For there again maun I never be!’—XIIIHe has turn’d him to the Tiviot-side,E’en as fast as he could drie,Till he cam to the Coultart Cleugh,And there he shouted baith loud and hie.XIVThen up bespak him auld Jock Grieve,‘Whae’s this that brings the fraye to me?’—‘It’s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,A harried man I trow I be.XV‘There’s naething left in the fair Dodhead,But a greeting wife and bairnies three,And sax poor ca’s[1226]stand in the sta’,A’ routing loud for their minnie[1227].’—XVI‘Alack a wae!’ quo’ auld Jock Grieve,‘Alack! my heart is sair for thee!For I was married on the elder sister,And you on the youngest of a’ the three.’XVIIThen he has ta’en out a bonny black,Was right weel fed with corn and hay,And he’s set Jamie Telfer on his back,To the Catslockhill to tak the fraye.XVIIIAnd whan he cam to the Catslockhill,He shouted loud, and cried weel hie,Till out and spak him William’s Wat,‘O whae’s this brings the fraye to me?’—XIX‘It’s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,A harried man I think I be!The Captain of Bewcastle has driven my gear;For God’s sake rise, and succour me!’—XX‘Alas for wae!’ quoth William’s Wat,‘Alack, for thee my heart is sair!I never cam by the fair Dodhead,That ever I fand thy basket bare.’XXIHe’s set his twa sons on coal-black steeds,Himsell upon a freckled gray,And they are on wi’ Jamie Telfer,To Branksome Ha’ to tak the fraye.XXIIAnd when they cam to Branksome Ha’,They shouted a’ baith loud and hie,Till up and spak him auld Buccleuch,Said, ‘Whae’s this brings the fraye to me?’—XXIII‘It’s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,And a harried man I think I be!There’s nought left in the fair Dodhead,But a greeting wife and bairnies three.’—XXIV‘Alack for wae!’ quoth the gude auld lord,‘And ever my heart is wae for thee!But fye gar cry on Willie, my son,And see that he come to me speedilie!XXV‘Gar warn the water[1228], braid and wide,Gar warn it sune and hastilie!They that winna ride for Telfer’s kye,Let them never look in the face o’ me!XXVI‘Warn Wat o’ Harden, and his sons,Wi’ them will Borthwick Water ride;Warn Gaudilands, and Allanhaugh,And Gilmanscleugh, and Commonside.XXVII‘Ride by the gate at Priesthaughswire,And warn the Currors o’ the Lee;As ye cum down the Hermitage Slack,Warn doughty Willie o’ Gorrinberry.’XXVIIIThe Scotts they rade, the Scotts they ran,Sae starkly and sae steadilie!And aye the ower-word o’ the thrangWas—‘Rise for Branksome readilie!’XXIXThe gear was driven the Frostylee up,Frae the Frostylee unto the plain,Whan Willie has look’d his men before,And saw the kye right fast drivand.XXX‘Whae drives thir kye?’ ’gan Willie say,‘To make an outspeckle[1229]o’ me?’—‘It’s I, the Captain o’ Bewcastle, Willie;I winna layne[1230]my name for thee.’—XXXI‘O will ye let Telfer’s kye gae back?Or will ye do aught for regard o’ me?Or, by the faith of my body,’ quo’ Willie Scott,‘I’se ware my dame’s cauf skin[1231]on thee!—XXXII‘I winna let the kye gae back,Neither for thy love, nor yet thy fear;But I will drive Jamie Telfer’s kye,In spite of every Scott that’s here.’—XXXIII‘Set on them, lads!’ quo’ Willie than;‘Fye, lads, set on them cruellie!For ere they win to the Ritterford,Mony a toom[1232]saddle there sall be!’XXXIVThen till ’t[1233]they gaed wi’ heart and hand,The blows fell thick as bickering hail;And mony a horse ran masterless,And mony a comely cheek was pale.XXXVBut Willie was stricken ower the head,And thro’ the knapscap[1234]the sword has gane;And Harden grat[1235]for very rage,Whan Willie on the grund lay slane.XXXVIBut he’s ta’en aff his gude steel cap,And thrice he’s waved it in the air—The Dinlay snaw was ne’er mair whiteNor the lyart[1236]locks of Harden’s hair.XXXVII‘Revenge! revenge!’ auld Wat ’gan cry;‘Fye, lads, lay on them cruellie!We’ll ne’er see Tiviot-side again,Or Willie’s death revenged sall be.’XXXVIIIO mony a horse ran masterless,The splinter’d lances flew on hie;But or they wan to the Kershope ford,The Scotts had gotten the victory.XXXIXJohn o’ Brigham there was slane,And John o’ Barlow, as I heard say;And thirty mae o’ the Captain’s menLay bleeding on the grund that day.XLThe Captain was run through the thick of the thigh,And broken was his right leg-bane;If he had lived this hundred years,He had never been loved by woman again.XLI‘Hae back the kye!’ the Captain said;‘Dear kye, I trow, to some they be!For gin I suld live a hundred years,There will ne’er fair lady smile on me.’XLIIThen word is gane to the Captain’s bride,Even in the bower where that she lay,That her lord was prisoner in enemy’s land,Since into Tividale he had led the way.XLIII‘I wad lourd[1237]have had a winding-sheet,And helped to put it ower his head,Ere he had been disgraced by the Border Scot,Whan he ower Liddel his men did lead!’XLIVThere was a wild gallant amang us a’,His name was Watty wi’ the Wudspurs[1238],Cried—‘On for his house in Stanegirthside,If ony man will ride with us!’XLVWhen they cam to the Stanegirthside,They dang wi’ trees, and burst the door;They loosed out a’ the Captain’s kye,And set them forth our lads before.XLVIThere was an auld wyfe ayont the fire,A wee bit o’ the Captain’s kin—‘Whae dar loose out the Captain’s kye,Or answer to him and his men?’—XLVII‘It’s I, Watty Wudspurs, loose the kye,I winna layne my name frae thee!And I will loose out the Captain’s kye,In scorn of a’ his men and he.’XLVIIIWhan they cam to the fair Dodhead,They were a wellcum sight to see!For instead of his ain ten milk kye,Jamie Telfer has gotten thirty and three.XLIXAnd he has paid the rescue shot,Baith wi’ gowd and white monie;And at the burial o’ Willie Scott,I wat was mony a weeping e’e.

It fell about the Martinmas tyde,When our Border steeds get corn and hay,The Captain of Bewcastle bound him to ryde,And he’s ower to Tividale to drive a prey.

The first ae guide that they met wi’,It was high up in Hardhaughswire;The second guide that they met wi’,It was laigh[1221]down in Borthwick water.

‘What tidings, what tidings, my trusty guide?’—‘Nae tidings, nae tidings, I hae to thee;But gin ye’ll gae to the fair Dodhead,Mony a cow’s cauf I’ll let thee see.’

And when they cam to the fair Dodhead,Right hastily they clam the peel[1222];They loosed the kye out, ane and a’,And ranshackled the house right weel.

Now Jamie Telfer’s heart was sair,The tear aye rowing[1223]in his ee;He pled wi’ the Captain to hae his gear,Or else revengèd he wad be.

The Captain turned him round and leugh;Said—‘Man, there’s naething in thy house,But ae auld sword without a sheath,That hardly now would fell a mouse.’

The sun wasna up, but the moon was down,It was the gryming[1224]of a new-fa’n snaw,Jamie Telfer has run ten myles a-foot,Between the Dodhead and the Stobs’s Ha’.

And when he cam to the fair tower-yate,He shouted loud, and cried weel hie,Till out bespak auld Gibby Elliot—‘Whae’s this that brings the fraye[1225]to me?’—

‘It’s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,And a harried man I think I be!There’s naething left at the fair Dodhead,But a waefu’ wife and bairnies three.’

‘Gae seek your succour at Branksome Ha’,For succour ye’se get nane frae me!Gae seek your succour where ye paid black-mail,For, man, ye ne’er paid money to me.’—

Jamie has turned him round about,I wat the tear blinded his ee—‘I’ll ne’er pay mail to Elliot again,And the fair Dodhead I’ll never see.

‘My hounds may a’ rin masterless,My hawks may fly frae tree to tree,My lord may grip my vassal lands,For there again maun I never be!’—

He has turn’d him to the Tiviot-side,E’en as fast as he could drie,Till he cam to the Coultart Cleugh,And there he shouted baith loud and hie.

Then up bespak him auld Jock Grieve,‘Whae’s this that brings the fraye to me?’—‘It’s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,A harried man I trow I be.

‘There’s naething left in the fair Dodhead,But a greeting wife and bairnies three,And sax poor ca’s[1226]stand in the sta’,A’ routing loud for their minnie[1227].’—

‘Alack a wae!’ quo’ auld Jock Grieve,‘Alack! my heart is sair for thee!For I was married on the elder sister,And you on the youngest of a’ the three.’

Then he has ta’en out a bonny black,Was right weel fed with corn and hay,And he’s set Jamie Telfer on his back,To the Catslockhill to tak the fraye.

And whan he cam to the Catslockhill,He shouted loud, and cried weel hie,Till out and spak him William’s Wat,‘O whae’s this brings the fraye to me?’—

‘It’s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,A harried man I think I be!The Captain of Bewcastle has driven my gear;For God’s sake rise, and succour me!’—

‘Alas for wae!’ quoth William’s Wat,‘Alack, for thee my heart is sair!I never cam by the fair Dodhead,That ever I fand thy basket bare.’

He’s set his twa sons on coal-black steeds,Himsell upon a freckled gray,And they are on wi’ Jamie Telfer,To Branksome Ha’ to tak the fraye.

And when they cam to Branksome Ha’,They shouted a’ baith loud and hie,Till up and spak him auld Buccleuch,Said, ‘Whae’s this brings the fraye to me?’—

‘It’s I, Jamie Telfer in the fair Dodhead,And a harried man I think I be!There’s nought left in the fair Dodhead,But a greeting wife and bairnies three.’—

‘Alack for wae!’ quoth the gude auld lord,‘And ever my heart is wae for thee!But fye gar cry on Willie, my son,And see that he come to me speedilie!

‘Gar warn the water[1228], braid and wide,Gar warn it sune and hastilie!They that winna ride for Telfer’s kye,Let them never look in the face o’ me!

‘Warn Wat o’ Harden, and his sons,Wi’ them will Borthwick Water ride;Warn Gaudilands, and Allanhaugh,And Gilmanscleugh, and Commonside.

‘Ride by the gate at Priesthaughswire,And warn the Currors o’ the Lee;As ye cum down the Hermitage Slack,Warn doughty Willie o’ Gorrinberry.’

The Scotts they rade, the Scotts they ran,Sae starkly and sae steadilie!And aye the ower-word o’ the thrangWas—‘Rise for Branksome readilie!’

The gear was driven the Frostylee up,Frae the Frostylee unto the plain,Whan Willie has look’d his men before,And saw the kye right fast drivand.

‘Whae drives thir kye?’ ’gan Willie say,‘To make an outspeckle[1229]o’ me?’—‘It’s I, the Captain o’ Bewcastle, Willie;I winna layne[1230]my name for thee.’—

‘O will ye let Telfer’s kye gae back?Or will ye do aught for regard o’ me?Or, by the faith of my body,’ quo’ Willie Scott,‘I’se ware my dame’s cauf skin[1231]on thee!—

‘I winna let the kye gae back,Neither for thy love, nor yet thy fear;But I will drive Jamie Telfer’s kye,In spite of every Scott that’s here.’—

‘Set on them, lads!’ quo’ Willie than;‘Fye, lads, set on them cruellie!For ere they win to the Ritterford,Mony a toom[1232]saddle there sall be!’

Then till ’t[1233]they gaed wi’ heart and hand,The blows fell thick as bickering hail;And mony a horse ran masterless,And mony a comely cheek was pale.

But Willie was stricken ower the head,And thro’ the knapscap[1234]the sword has gane;And Harden grat[1235]for very rage,Whan Willie on the grund lay slane.

But he’s ta’en aff his gude steel cap,And thrice he’s waved it in the air—The Dinlay snaw was ne’er mair whiteNor the lyart[1236]locks of Harden’s hair.

‘Revenge! revenge!’ auld Wat ’gan cry;‘Fye, lads, lay on them cruellie!We’ll ne’er see Tiviot-side again,Or Willie’s death revenged sall be.’

O mony a horse ran masterless,The splinter’d lances flew on hie;But or they wan to the Kershope ford,The Scotts had gotten the victory.

John o’ Brigham there was slane,And John o’ Barlow, as I heard say;And thirty mae o’ the Captain’s menLay bleeding on the grund that day.

The Captain was run through the thick of the thigh,And broken was his right leg-bane;If he had lived this hundred years,He had never been loved by woman again.

‘Hae back the kye!’ the Captain said;‘Dear kye, I trow, to some they be!For gin I suld live a hundred years,There will ne’er fair lady smile on me.’

Then word is gane to the Captain’s bride,Even in the bower where that she lay,That her lord was prisoner in enemy’s land,Since into Tividale he had led the way.

‘I wad lourd[1237]have had a winding-sheet,And helped to put it ower his head,Ere he had been disgraced by the Border Scot,Whan he ower Liddel his men did lead!’

There was a wild gallant amang us a’,His name was Watty wi’ the Wudspurs[1238],Cried—‘On for his house in Stanegirthside,If ony man will ride with us!’

When they cam to the Stanegirthside,They dang wi’ trees, and burst the door;They loosed out a’ the Captain’s kye,And set them forth our lads before.

There was an auld wyfe ayont the fire,A wee bit o’ the Captain’s kin—‘Whae dar loose out the Captain’s kye,Or answer to him and his men?’—

‘It’s I, Watty Wudspurs, loose the kye,I winna layne my name frae thee!And I will loose out the Captain’s kye,In scorn of a’ his men and he.’

Whan they cam to the fair Dodhead,They were a wellcum sight to see!For instead of his ain ten milk kye,Jamie Telfer has gotten thirty and three.

And he has paid the rescue shot,Baith wi’ gowd and white monie;And at the burial o’ Willie Scott,I wat was mony a weeping e’e.

FOOTNOTES:[1221]laigh = low.[1222]peel = stronghold, keep.[1223]rowing = rolling.[1224]gryming = sprinkling.[1225]fraye = fright, alarm.[1226]ca’s = calves.[1227]minnie = mother.[1228]warn the water = raise the cry along the waterside.[1229]outspeckle = laughing-stock.[1230]layne = lie, falsen.[1231]ware, &c. = spend, use my mother’s calf-skin whip.[1232]toom = empty.[1233]till ’t = to it.[1234]knapscap = headpiece.[1235]grat = wept.[1236]lyart = grizzled.[1237]lourd = liefer, rather.[1238]wudspurs = hotspur, or madspur.

[1221]laigh = low.

[1222]peel = stronghold, keep.

[1223]rowing = rolling.

[1224]gryming = sprinkling.

[1225]fraye = fright, alarm.

[1226]ca’s = calves.

[1227]minnie = mother.

[1228]warn the water = raise the cry along the waterside.

[1229]outspeckle = laughing-stock.

[1230]layne = lie, falsen.

[1231]ware, &c. = spend, use my mother’s calf-skin whip.

[1232]toom = empty.

[1233]till ’t = to it.

[1234]knapscap = headpiece.

[1235]grat = wept.

[1236]lyart = grizzled.

[1237]lourd = liefer, rather.

[1238]wudspurs = hotspur, or madspur.

INow Liddesdale has lain lang in,There is na ryding[1239]there at a’;The horses are a’ grown sae lither[1240]fat,They downa stir out o’ the sta’.IIFair Johnie Armstrong to Willie did say—‘Billie, a-ryding then will we;England and us have been lang at feid;Aiblins[1241]we’ll light on some bootie.’—IIIThen they’re come on to Hutton Ha’;They rade that proper place about.But the Laird he was the wiser man,For he had left nae gear without:IVFor he had left nae gear to steal,Except sax sheep upon a lea:Quo’ Johnie—‘I’d rather in England die,Ere thir sax sheep gae to Liddesdale wi’ me.V‘But how ca’ they the man we last met,Billie, as we cam owre the know[1242]?’—‘That same he is an innocent fule,And men they call him Dick o’ the Cow.’VI‘That fule has three as good kye o’ his ain,As there are in a’ Cumberland, billie,’ quo’ he.‘Betide me life, betide me death,These kye shall go to Liddesdale wi’ me.’VIIThen they’re come on to the pure fule’s house,And they hae broken his wa’s sae wide;They have loosed out Dick o’ the Cow’s three kye,And ta’en three co’erlets off his wife’s bed.VIIIThen on the morn when the day grew light,The shouts and cries raise loud and hie:‘O haud thy tongue, my wife,’ he says,‘And o’ thy crying let me be!IX‘O haud thy tongue, my wife,’ he says,‘And o’ thy crying let me be;And aye where thou hast lost ae cow,In gude sooth I shall bring thee three.’XNow Dickie’s gane to the gude Lord Scroope,And I wat a dreirie fule was he;‘Now haud thy tongue, my fule,’ he says,‘For I may not stand to jest wi’ thee.’XI‘Shame fa’ your jesting, my lord!’ quo’ Dickie,‘For nae sic jesting grees wi’ me;Liddesdale’s been in my house last night,And they hae awa’ my three kye frae me.XII‘But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwell,To be your puir fule and your leal,Unless you gie me leave, my lord,To gae to Liddesdale and steal’—XIII‘I gie thee leave, my fule!’ he says;‘Thou speakest against my honour and me,Unless thou gie me thy troth and thy hand,Thou’lt steal frae nane but wha sta’ frae thee.’—XIV‘There is my troth, and my right hand!My head shall hang on Hairibee[1243];I’ll never cross Carlisle sands again,If I steal frae a man but wha sta’ frae me.’XVDickie’s ta’en leave o’ lord and master;I wat a merry fule was he!He’s bought a bridle and a pair o’ new spurs,And packed them up in his breek thie[1244].XVIThen Dickie’s come on to Puddingburn house,Even as fast as he might dree[1245]:Then Dickie’s come on to Puddingburn,Where there were thirty Armstrangs and three.XVII‘O what’s this come o’ me now?’ quo’ Dickie;‘What mickle wae is this?’ quo’ he,‘For here is but ae innocent fule,And there are thirty Armstrangs and three!’XVIIIYet he has come up to the fair ha’ board,Sae well he became his courtesie!‘Well may ye be, my gude Laird’s Jock!But the dèil bless a’ your companie.XIX‘I’m come to plain[1246]o’ your man, Johnie Armstrang,And syne o’ his billie Willie,’ quo’ he;‘How they hae been in my house last night,And they hae ta’en my three kye frae me.’—XX‘Ha!’ quo’ Johnie Armstrang, ‘we will him hang.’—‘Na,’ quo’ Willie, ‘we’ll him slae.’—Then up and spak another young Armstrang,‘We’ll gie him his batts[1247], and let him gae.’XXIBut up and spak the gude Laird’s Jock,The best in a’ the companie,‘Sit down thy ways a little while, Dickie,And a piece o’ thy ain cow’s hough I’ll gie ye.’XXIIBut Dickie’s heart it grew sae grit[1248],That the ne’er a bit o’t he dought to[1249]eat—Then he was aware of in auld peat-house,Where a’ the night he thought for to sleepXXIIIThen Dickie was ware of an auld peat-house,Where a’ the night he thought for to lye—And a’ the prayers the puir fule pray’d,Were, ‘I wish I had mends[1250]for my gude three kye!’XXIVIt was then the use of Puddingburn house,And the house of Mangerton, all hail,Them that cam na it the first ca’,Gat nae mair meat till the neist meal.XXVThe lads, that hungry and weary were,Abune the door-head they threw the key;Dickie he took gude notice o’ that,Says—‘There will be a bootie for me.’XXVIThen Dickie has into the stable gane,Where there stood thirty horses and three;He has tied them a’ wi’ St. Mary’s knot[1251],A’ these horses but barely three.XXVIIHe has tied them a’ wi’ St. Mary’s knot,A’ these horses but barely three;He’s loupen on ane, ta’en another in hand,And out at the door is gane Dickie.XXVIIIBut on the morn, when the day grew light,The shouts and cries raise loud and hie‘Ah! wha has done this?’ quo’ the gude Laird’s Jock,‘Tell me the truth and the verity!XXIX‘Wha has done this deed?’ quo’ the gude Laird’s Jock;‘See that to me ye dinna lee!’—‘Dickie has been in the stable last night,And my brother’s horse and mine’s frae me.’—XXX‘Ye wad ne’er be tauld,’ quo’ the gude Laird’s Jock;‘Have ye not found my tales fu’ leil?Ye never wad out o’ England bide,Till crooked and blind and a’ would steal.’—XXXI‘But lend me thy bay,’ fair Johnie can say;‘There’s nae horse loose in the stable save he;And I’ll either fetch Dick o’ the Cow again,Or the day is come that he shall dee.’—XXXII‘To lend thee my bay!’ the Laird’s Jock ’gan say;‘He’s baith worth gowd and gude monie.Dick o’ the Cow has awa’ twa horse:I wish na thou may make him three.’XXXIIIHe his ta’en the laird’s jack[1252]on his back,A twa-handed sword to hang by his thie;He has ta’en a steel cap on his head,And on he is to follow Dickie.XXXIVDickie was na a mile aff the town,I wat a mile but barely three,When he was o’erta’en by Johnie Armstrong,Hand for hand, on Cannobie lee.XXXV‘Abide, abide, thou traitour thiefe!The day is come that thou maun dee!’Then Dickie look’t ower his left shoulder,—‘Johnie, hast thou nae mae in thy companie?XXXVI‘There is a preacher in our chapell,And a’ the lee-lang day teaches he:When day is gane and night is come,There’s ne’er a word I mark but three.XXXVII‘The first and second is—FaithandConscience;The third—Johnie, take heed o’ thee!But, Johnie, what faith and conscience was thine,When thou took awa’ my three kye frae me?XXXVIII‘And when thou had ta’en awa’ my three kye,Thou thought in thy heart thou wast no well sped,Till thou sent thy billie owre the know,To tak three co’erlets off my wife’s bed!’—XXXIXThen Johnie let a spear fa’ laigh[1253]by his thie,Thought weel to hae run the innocent through,But the powers above were mair than he,For he ran but the pure fule’s jerkin through.XLTogether they ran, or ever they blan[1254];This was Dickie the fule and he!Dickie couldna win at him wi’ the blade o’ the sword,But fell’d him wi’ the plummet[1255]under the ee.XLIThus Dickie has fell’d fair Johnie Armstrong,The prettiest man in the south country:‘Gramercy!’ then ’gan Dickie say,‘I had but twa horse, thou hast made me three!’XLIIHe’s ta’en the laird’s jack aff Johnie’s back,The twa-handed sword that hung low by his thie;He’s ta’en the steel cap aff his head—‘Johnie, I’ll tell that I met wi’ thee.’XLIIIWhen Johnie waken’d out o’ his dream,I wat a dreirie man was he:‘And is thou gane? Now, Dickie, thanThe shame and dule is left wi’ me.XLIV‘And is thou gane? Now, Dickie, thanThe deil gae in thy companie!For if I should live these hundred years,I ne’er shall fight wi’ a fule after thee.’XLVThen Dickie’s come hame to the gude Lord Scroope,E’en as fast as he might hie;‘Now, Dickie, I’ll neither eat nor drink,Till hie hangèd that thou shall be.’—XLVI‘The shame speed the liars, my lord!’ quo’ Dickie;‘This was na the promise ye made to me!For I’d ne’er gang to Liddesdale to steal,Had I not got my leave frae thee.’—XLVII‘But what gar’d thee steal the Laird’s Jock’s horse?And, limmer, what gar’d ye steal him?’ quo’ he;‘For lang thou mightst in Cumberland dweltOr the Laird’s Jock had stown aught frae thee.’—XLVIII‘Indeed I wat ye lied, my lord!And e’en sae loud as I hear ye lie!I wan the horse frae fair Johnie Armstrang,Hand to hand, on Cannobie lee.XLIX‘There is the jack was on his back;This twa-handed sword hung laigh by his thie;And there’s the steel cap was on his head;I brought a’ these tokens to let thee see.’—L‘If that be true thou to me tells(And I think thou dares na tell me a lee),I’ll gie thee fifteen punds for the horse,Well tauld on thy cloak lap they shall be.LI‘I’ll gie thee ane o’ my best milk kye,To maintain thy wife and children three;And that may be as gude, I think,As ony twa o’ thine wad be.’—LII‘The shame speed the liars, my lord!’ quo’ Dickie;‘Trow ye aye to make a fule o’ me?I’ll either hae twenty punds for the gude horse,Or he’s gae to Mortan Fair wi’ me.’LIIIHe’s gi’en him twenty punds for the gude horse,A’ in the goud and gude monie;He’s gi’en him ane o’ his best milk kye,To maintain his wife and children three.LIVThen Dickie’s come down thro’ Carlisle toun,E’en as fast as he could drie:The first o’ men that he met wi’Was my Lord’s brother, Bailiff Glozenburrie.LV‘Weil be ye met, my gude Ralph Scroope!’—‘Welcome, my brother’s fule!’ quo’ he;‘Where didst thou get Johnie Armstrang’s horse?’—‘Where did I get him, but steal him,’ quo’ he.LVI‘But wilt thou sell me the bonny horse?And, billie, wilt thou sell him to me?’ quo’ he.—‘Ay; if thou’lt tell me the monie on my cloak lap:For there’s never ae penny I’ll trust thee.’—LVII‘I’ll gie thee ten punds for the gude horse,Weil tauld on thy cloak lap they shall be;And I’ll gie thee ane o’ the best milk kye,To maintain thy wife and children three.’—LVIII‘The shame speed the liars, my lord!’ quo’ Dickie;‘Trow ye aye to make a fule o’ me!I’ll either hae twenty punds for the gude horse,Or he’s gae to Mortan Fair wi’ me.’—LIXHe’s gi’en him twenty punds for the gude horse,Baith in goud and gude monie;He’s gi’en him ane o’ his milk kye,To maintain his wife and children three.LXThen Dickie lap a loup[1256]fu’ hie,And I wat a loud laugh laughèd he:‘I wish the neck o’ the third horse was broken,If ony of the twa were better than he!’LXIThen Dickie’s come hame to his wife again;Judge ye how the puir fule had sped!He has gi’en her twa score English punds,For the three auld co’erlets ta’en aff her bed.LXII‘And tak thee these twa as gude kye,I trow, as a’ thy three might be;And yet here is a white-footed nag,I trow he’ll carry baith thee and me.LXIII‘But I may nae langer in Cumberland bide;The Armstrangs they would hang me hie.’—So Dickie’s ta’en leave at lord and master,And at Burgh under Stanmuir dwells Dickie.

Now Liddesdale has lain lang in,There is na ryding[1239]there at a’;The horses are a’ grown sae lither[1240]fat,They downa stir out o’ the sta’.

Fair Johnie Armstrong to Willie did say—‘Billie, a-ryding then will we;England and us have been lang at feid;Aiblins[1241]we’ll light on some bootie.’—

Then they’re come on to Hutton Ha’;They rade that proper place about.But the Laird he was the wiser man,For he had left nae gear without:

For he had left nae gear to steal,Except sax sheep upon a lea:Quo’ Johnie—‘I’d rather in England die,Ere thir sax sheep gae to Liddesdale wi’ me.

‘But how ca’ they the man we last met,Billie, as we cam owre the know[1242]?’—‘That same he is an innocent fule,And men they call him Dick o’ the Cow.’

‘That fule has three as good kye o’ his ain,As there are in a’ Cumberland, billie,’ quo’ he.‘Betide me life, betide me death,These kye shall go to Liddesdale wi’ me.’

Then they’re come on to the pure fule’s house,And they hae broken his wa’s sae wide;They have loosed out Dick o’ the Cow’s three kye,And ta’en three co’erlets off his wife’s bed.

Then on the morn when the day grew light,The shouts and cries raise loud and hie:‘O haud thy tongue, my wife,’ he says,‘And o’ thy crying let me be!

‘O haud thy tongue, my wife,’ he says,‘And o’ thy crying let me be;And aye where thou hast lost ae cow,In gude sooth I shall bring thee three.’

Now Dickie’s gane to the gude Lord Scroope,And I wat a dreirie fule was he;‘Now haud thy tongue, my fule,’ he says,‘For I may not stand to jest wi’ thee.’

‘Shame fa’ your jesting, my lord!’ quo’ Dickie,‘For nae sic jesting grees wi’ me;Liddesdale’s been in my house last night,And they hae awa’ my three kye frae me.

‘But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwell,To be your puir fule and your leal,Unless you gie me leave, my lord,To gae to Liddesdale and steal’—

‘I gie thee leave, my fule!’ he says;‘Thou speakest against my honour and me,Unless thou gie me thy troth and thy hand,Thou’lt steal frae nane but wha sta’ frae thee.’—

‘There is my troth, and my right hand!My head shall hang on Hairibee[1243];I’ll never cross Carlisle sands again,If I steal frae a man but wha sta’ frae me.’

Dickie’s ta’en leave o’ lord and master;I wat a merry fule was he!He’s bought a bridle and a pair o’ new spurs,And packed them up in his breek thie[1244].

Then Dickie’s come on to Puddingburn house,Even as fast as he might dree[1245]:Then Dickie’s come on to Puddingburn,Where there were thirty Armstrangs and three.

‘O what’s this come o’ me now?’ quo’ Dickie;‘What mickle wae is this?’ quo’ he,‘For here is but ae innocent fule,And there are thirty Armstrangs and three!’

Yet he has come up to the fair ha’ board,Sae well he became his courtesie!‘Well may ye be, my gude Laird’s Jock!But the dèil bless a’ your companie.

‘I’m come to plain[1246]o’ your man, Johnie Armstrang,And syne o’ his billie Willie,’ quo’ he;‘How they hae been in my house last night,And they hae ta’en my three kye frae me.’—

‘Ha!’ quo’ Johnie Armstrang, ‘we will him hang.’—‘Na,’ quo’ Willie, ‘we’ll him slae.’—Then up and spak another young Armstrang,‘We’ll gie him his batts[1247], and let him gae.’

But up and spak the gude Laird’s Jock,The best in a’ the companie,‘Sit down thy ways a little while, Dickie,And a piece o’ thy ain cow’s hough I’ll gie ye.’

But Dickie’s heart it grew sae grit[1248],That the ne’er a bit o’t he dought to[1249]eat—Then he was aware of in auld peat-house,Where a’ the night he thought for to sleep

Then Dickie was ware of an auld peat-house,Where a’ the night he thought for to lye—And a’ the prayers the puir fule pray’d,Were, ‘I wish I had mends[1250]for my gude three kye!’

It was then the use of Puddingburn house,And the house of Mangerton, all hail,Them that cam na it the first ca’,Gat nae mair meat till the neist meal.

The lads, that hungry and weary were,Abune the door-head they threw the key;Dickie he took gude notice o’ that,Says—‘There will be a bootie for me.’

Then Dickie has into the stable gane,Where there stood thirty horses and three;He has tied them a’ wi’ St. Mary’s knot[1251],A’ these horses but barely three.

He has tied them a’ wi’ St. Mary’s knot,A’ these horses but barely three;He’s loupen on ane, ta’en another in hand,And out at the door is gane Dickie.

But on the morn, when the day grew light,The shouts and cries raise loud and hie‘Ah! wha has done this?’ quo’ the gude Laird’s Jock,‘Tell me the truth and the verity!

‘Wha has done this deed?’ quo’ the gude Laird’s Jock;‘See that to me ye dinna lee!’—‘Dickie has been in the stable last night,And my brother’s horse and mine’s frae me.’—

‘Ye wad ne’er be tauld,’ quo’ the gude Laird’s Jock;‘Have ye not found my tales fu’ leil?Ye never wad out o’ England bide,Till crooked and blind and a’ would steal.’—

‘But lend me thy bay,’ fair Johnie can say;‘There’s nae horse loose in the stable save he;And I’ll either fetch Dick o’ the Cow again,Or the day is come that he shall dee.’—

‘To lend thee my bay!’ the Laird’s Jock ’gan say;‘He’s baith worth gowd and gude monie.Dick o’ the Cow has awa’ twa horse:I wish na thou may make him three.’

He his ta’en the laird’s jack[1252]on his back,A twa-handed sword to hang by his thie;He has ta’en a steel cap on his head,And on he is to follow Dickie.

Dickie was na a mile aff the town,I wat a mile but barely three,When he was o’erta’en by Johnie Armstrong,Hand for hand, on Cannobie lee.

‘Abide, abide, thou traitour thiefe!The day is come that thou maun dee!’Then Dickie look’t ower his left shoulder,—‘Johnie, hast thou nae mae in thy companie?

‘There is a preacher in our chapell,And a’ the lee-lang day teaches he:When day is gane and night is come,There’s ne’er a word I mark but three.

‘The first and second is—FaithandConscience;The third—Johnie, take heed o’ thee!But, Johnie, what faith and conscience was thine,When thou took awa’ my three kye frae me?

‘And when thou had ta’en awa’ my three kye,Thou thought in thy heart thou wast no well sped,Till thou sent thy billie owre the know,To tak three co’erlets off my wife’s bed!’—

Then Johnie let a spear fa’ laigh[1253]by his thie,Thought weel to hae run the innocent through,But the powers above were mair than he,For he ran but the pure fule’s jerkin through.

Together they ran, or ever they blan[1254];This was Dickie the fule and he!Dickie couldna win at him wi’ the blade o’ the sword,But fell’d him wi’ the plummet[1255]under the ee.

Thus Dickie has fell’d fair Johnie Armstrong,The prettiest man in the south country:‘Gramercy!’ then ’gan Dickie say,‘I had but twa horse, thou hast made me three!’

He’s ta’en the laird’s jack aff Johnie’s back,The twa-handed sword that hung low by his thie;He’s ta’en the steel cap aff his head—‘Johnie, I’ll tell that I met wi’ thee.’

When Johnie waken’d out o’ his dream,I wat a dreirie man was he:‘And is thou gane? Now, Dickie, thanThe shame and dule is left wi’ me.

‘And is thou gane? Now, Dickie, thanThe deil gae in thy companie!For if I should live these hundred years,I ne’er shall fight wi’ a fule after thee.’

Then Dickie’s come hame to the gude Lord Scroope,E’en as fast as he might hie;‘Now, Dickie, I’ll neither eat nor drink,Till hie hangèd that thou shall be.’—

‘The shame speed the liars, my lord!’ quo’ Dickie;‘This was na the promise ye made to me!For I’d ne’er gang to Liddesdale to steal,Had I not got my leave frae thee.’—

‘But what gar’d thee steal the Laird’s Jock’s horse?And, limmer, what gar’d ye steal him?’ quo’ he;‘For lang thou mightst in Cumberland dweltOr the Laird’s Jock had stown aught frae thee.’—

‘Indeed I wat ye lied, my lord!And e’en sae loud as I hear ye lie!I wan the horse frae fair Johnie Armstrang,Hand to hand, on Cannobie lee.

‘There is the jack was on his back;This twa-handed sword hung laigh by his thie;And there’s the steel cap was on his head;I brought a’ these tokens to let thee see.’—

‘If that be true thou to me tells(And I think thou dares na tell me a lee),I’ll gie thee fifteen punds for the horse,Well tauld on thy cloak lap they shall be.

‘I’ll gie thee ane o’ my best milk kye,To maintain thy wife and children three;And that may be as gude, I think,As ony twa o’ thine wad be.’—

‘The shame speed the liars, my lord!’ quo’ Dickie;‘Trow ye aye to make a fule o’ me?I’ll either hae twenty punds for the gude horse,Or he’s gae to Mortan Fair wi’ me.’

He’s gi’en him twenty punds for the gude horse,A’ in the goud and gude monie;He’s gi’en him ane o’ his best milk kye,To maintain his wife and children three.

Then Dickie’s come down thro’ Carlisle toun,E’en as fast as he could drie:The first o’ men that he met wi’Was my Lord’s brother, Bailiff Glozenburrie.

‘Weil be ye met, my gude Ralph Scroope!’—‘Welcome, my brother’s fule!’ quo’ he;‘Where didst thou get Johnie Armstrang’s horse?’—‘Where did I get him, but steal him,’ quo’ he.

‘But wilt thou sell me the bonny horse?And, billie, wilt thou sell him to me?’ quo’ he.—‘Ay; if thou’lt tell me the monie on my cloak lap:For there’s never ae penny I’ll trust thee.’—

‘I’ll gie thee ten punds for the gude horse,Weil tauld on thy cloak lap they shall be;And I’ll gie thee ane o’ the best milk kye,To maintain thy wife and children three.’—

‘The shame speed the liars, my lord!’ quo’ Dickie;‘Trow ye aye to make a fule o’ me!I’ll either hae twenty punds for the gude horse,Or he’s gae to Mortan Fair wi’ me.’—

He’s gi’en him twenty punds for the gude horse,Baith in goud and gude monie;He’s gi’en him ane o’ his milk kye,To maintain his wife and children three.

Then Dickie lap a loup[1256]fu’ hie,And I wat a loud laugh laughèd he:‘I wish the neck o’ the third horse was broken,If ony of the twa were better than he!’

Then Dickie’s come hame to his wife again;Judge ye how the puir fule had sped!He has gi’en her twa score English punds,For the three auld co’erlets ta’en aff her bed.

‘And tak thee these twa as gude kye,I trow, as a’ thy three might be;And yet here is a white-footed nag,I trow he’ll carry baith thee and me.

‘But I may nae langer in Cumberland bide;The Armstrangs they would hang me hie.’—So Dickie’s ta’en leave at lord and master,And at Burgh under Stanmuir dwells Dickie.

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