  INow Liddesdale has lain lang in, There is na ryding The horses are a’ grown sae lither 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 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 ‘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 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 XVIThen Dickie’s come on to Puddingburn house, Even as fast as he might dree 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 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 < |
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