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.’
XLIII
When Johnie waken’d out o’ his dream,
I wat a dreirie man was he:
‘And is thou gane? Now, Dickie, than
The shame and dule is left wi’ me.
XLIV
‘And is thou gane? Now, Dickie, than
The deil gae in thy companie!
For if I should live these hundred years,
I ne’er shall fight wi’ a fule after thee.’
XLV
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.’—
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.’—