Then Hobie he had but a laddies sword;
But he did more than a laddies deed;
In the midst of Conscouthart-Green,
He brake it oer Jersawigham’s head.
Now they have tane brave Hobie Noble,
Wi’ his ain bowstring they band him sae;
And I wat heart was ne’er sae sair,
As when his ain five band him on the brae.
They have tane him on for West Carlisle;
They ask’d him if he knew the why?
Whate’er he thought, yet little he said;
He knew the way as well as they.
They hae ta’en him up the Ricker gate;
The wives they cast their windows wide;
And every wife to anither can say,
“That’s the man loos’d Jock o’ the Side!”
“Fye on ye, women! why ca’ ye me man?
For it’s nae man that I’m used like;
I am but like a forfoughen hound,
Has been fighting in a dirty syke.”
Then they hae tane him up thro’ Carlisle town,
And set him by the chimney fire;
They gave brave Noble a wheat loaf to eat,
And that was little his desire.
Then they gave him a wheat loaf to eat,
And after that a can o beer;
Then they cried a’ with ae consent,
“Eat, brave Noble, and make gude cheer!
“Confess my lord’s horse, Hobie,” they said,
“And the morn in Carlisle thou’s no die;”
“How shall I confess them,” Hobie says,
“For I never saw them with mine eye?”
Then Hobie has sworn a fu’ great aith,
By the day that he was gotten and born,
He never had ony thing o’ my lord’s,
That either eat him grass or corn.
“Now fare thee weel, sweet Mangerton!
For I think again I’ll ne’er thee see:
I wad betray nae lad alive,
For a’ the goud in Christentie.