88A: Young Johnstone

88A.1	THE knight stands in the stable-door,
	As he was for to ryde,
	When out then came his fair lady,
	Desiring him to byde.
88A.2	‘How can I byde? how dare I byde?
	How can I byde with thee?
	Have I not killd thy ae brother?
	Thou hadst nae mair but he.’
88A.3	‘If you have killd my ae brother,
	Alas, and woe is me!
	But if I save your fair body,
	The better you’ll like me.’
88A.4	She’s tane him to her secret bower,
	Pinnd with a siller pin,
	And she’s up to her highest tower,
	To watch that none come in.
88A.5	She had na well gane up the stair,
	And entered in her tower,
	When four and twenty armed knights
	Came riding to the door.
88A.6	‘Now God you save, my fair lady,
	I pray you tell to me,
	Saw you not a wounded knight
	Come riding by this way?’
88A.7	‘Yes, bloody, bloody was his sword,
	And bloody were his hands;
	But if the steed he rides be good,
	He’s past fair Scotland’s strands.
88A.8	‘Light down, light down then, gentlemen,
	And take some bread and wine;
	The better you will him pursue
	When you shall lightly dine.’
88A.9	‘We thank you for your bread, lady,
	We thank you for your wine;
	I would gie thrice three thousand pounds
	Your fair body was mine.’
88A.10	Then she’s gane to her secret bower,
	Her husband dear to meet;
	But he drew out his bloody sword,
	And wounded her sae deep.
88A.11	‘What aileth thee now, good my lord?
	What aileth thee at me?
	Have you not got my father’s gold,
	But and my mother’s fee?’
88A.12	‘Now live, now live, my fair lady,
	O live but half an hour,
	There’s neer a leech in fair Scotland
	But shall be at thy bower.’
88A.13	‘How can I live? how shall I live?
	How can I live for thee?
	See you not where my red heart’s blood
	Runs trickling down my knee?’

88B: Young Johnstone

88B.1	YOUNG Johnstone and the young Colnel
	Sat drinking at the wine:
	‘O gin ye wad marry my sister,
	It’s I wad marry thine.’
88B.2	‘I wadna marry your sister
	For a’ your houses and land;
	But I’ll keep her for my leman,
	When I come oer the strand.
88B.3	‘I wadna marry your sister
	For a’ your gowd so gay;
	But I’ll keep her for my leman,
	When I come by the way.’
88B.4	Young Johnstone had a little small sword,
	Hung low down by his gair,
	And he stabbed it through the young Colnel,
	That word he neer spak mair.
88B.5	But he’s awa to his sister’s bower,
	He’s tirled at the pin:
	‘Where hae ye been, my dear brither,
	Sae late a coming in?’
	‘I hae been at the school, sister,
	Learning young clerks to sing.’
88B.6	‘I’ve dreamed a dreary dream this night,
	I wish it may be for good;
	They were seeking you with hawks and hounds,
	And the young Colnel was dead.’
88B.7	‘Hawks and hounds they may seek me,
	As I trow well they be;
	For I have killed the young Colnel,
	And thy own true-love was he.’
88B.8	‘If ye hae killed the young Colnel,
	O dule and wae is me!
	But I wish ye may be hanged on a hie gallows,
	And hae nae power to flee.’
88B.9	And he’s awa to his true-love’s bower,
	He’s tirled at the pin:
	‘Whar hae ye been, my dear Johnstone,
	Sae late a coming in?’
	‘It’s I hae been at the school,’ he says,
	‘Learning young clerks to sing.’
88B.10	‘I have dreamed a dreary dream,’ she says,
	‘I wish it may be for good;
	They were seeking you with hawks and hounds,
	And the young Colnel was dead.’
88B.11	‘Hawks and hounds they may seek me,
	As I trow well they be;
	For I hae killed the young Colnel,
	And thy ae brother was he.’
88B.12	‘If ye hae killed the young Colnel,
	O dule and wae is me!
	But I care the less for the young Colnel,
	If thy ain body be free.
88B.13	‘Come in, come in, my dear Johnstone,
	Come in and take a sleep;
	And I will go to my casement,
	And carefully I will thee keep.’
88B.14	He had not weel been in her bower-door,
	No not for half an hour,
	When four and twenty belted knights
	Came riding to the bower.
88B.15	‘Well may you sit and see, lady,
	Well may you sit and say;
	Did you not see a bloody squire
	Come riding by this way?’
88B.16	‘What colour were his hawks?’ she says,
	‘What colour were his hounds?
	What colour was the gallant steed,
	That bore him from the bounds?’
88B.17	‘Bloody, bloody were his hawks,
	And bloody were his hounds;
	But milk-white was the gallant steed,
	That bore him from the bounds.
88B.18	‘Yes, bloody, bloody were his hawks,
	And bloody were his hounds;
	And milk-white was the gallant steed,
	That bore him from the bounds.
88B.19	‘Light down, light down now, gentlemen,
	And take some bread and wine;
	And the steed be swift that he rides on,
	He’s past the brig o Lyne.’
88B.20	‘We thank you for your bread, fair lady,
	We thank you for your wine;
	But I wad gie thrice three thousand pound
	That bloody knight was taen.’
88B.21	‘Lie still, lie still, my dear Johnstone,
	Lie still and take a sleep;
	For thy enemies are past and gone,
	And carefully I will thee keep.’
88B.22	But Young Johnstone had a little wee sword,
	Hung low down by his gair,
	And he stabbed it in fair Annet’s breast,
	A deep wound and a sair.
88B.23	‘What aileth thee now, dear Johnstone?
	What aileth thee at me?
	Hast thou not got my father’s gold,
	Bot and my mither’s fee?’
88B.24	‘Now live, now live, my dear ladye,
	Now live but half an hour,
	And there’s no a leech in a’ Scotland
	But shall be in thy bower.’
88B.25	‘How can I live? how shall I live?
	Young Johnstone, do not you see
	The red, red drops o my bonny heart’s blood
	Rin trinkling down my knee?
88B.26	‘But take thy harp into thy hand,
	And harp out owre you plain,
	And neer think mair on thy true-love
	Than if she had never been.’
88B.27	He hadna weel been out o the stable,
	And on his saddle set,
	Till four and twenty broad arrows
	Were thrilling in his heart.

88C: Young Johnstone

88C.1	SWEET WILLIAM and the young Colnel
	One day was drinking wine:
	‘It’s I will marry your sister,
	If ye will marry mine.’
88C.2	‘I will not marry your sister,
	Altho her hair be brown;
	But I’ll keep her for my liberty-wife,
	As I ride thro the town.’
88C.3	William, having his two-edged sword,
	He leaned quite low to the ground,
	And he has given the young Colnel
	A deep and a deadly wound.
88C.4	He rade, he rade, and awa he rade,
	Till he came to his mother’s bower;
	‘O open, open, mother,’ he says,
	‘And let your auld son in.
88C.5	‘For the rain rains owre my yellow hair,
	And the dew draps on my chin,
	And trembling stands the gallant steed
	That carries me from the ground.’
88C.6	‘What aileth thee, Sweet William?’ she says,
	‘What harm now hast thou done?’
	‘Oh I hae killed the young Colnel,
	And his heart’s blood sair does run.’
88C.7	‘If ye hae killed the young Colnel,
	Nae shelter ye’ll get frae me;
	May the two-edged sword be upon your heart,
	That never hath power to flee!’
88C.8	He rade, he rade, and awa he rade,
	Till he came to his sister’s bower;
	‘Oh open, open, sister,’ he says,
	‘And let your brother in.
88C.9	‘For the rain rains on my yellow hair,
	And the dew draps on my chin,
	And trembling stands the gallant steed
	That carries me from the ground.’
88C.10	‘What aileth thee, Sweet William?’ she says,
	‘What harm now hast thou done?’
	‘Oh I have killed the young Colnel,
	And his heart’s blood sair doth run.’
88C.11	‘If ye hae killed the young Colnel,
	Nae shelter ye’ll get frae me;
	May the two-edged sword be upon your heart,
	That never hath power to flee!’
88C.12	He rade, he rade, and awa he rade,
	Till he came to his true-love’s bower;
	‘Oh open, oh open, my true-love,’ he says,
	‘And let your sweetheart in.
88C.13	‘For the rain rains on my yellow hair,
	And the dew draps on my chin,
	And trembling stands the gallant steed
	That carries me from the ground.’
88C.14	‘What aileth thee, Sweet William?’ she says,
	‘What harm now hast thou done?’
	‘Oh I hae killed thy brother dear,
	And his heart’s blood sair doth run.’
88C.15	‘If ye hae killed my brother dear,
	It’s oh and alace for me!
	But between the blankets and the sheets
	It’s there I will hide thee!’
88C.16	She’s taen him by the milk-white hand,
	She’s led him thro chambers three,
	Until she came to her own chamber:
	‘It’s there I will hide thee.
88C.17	‘Lye down, lye down, Sweet William,’ she says,
	‘Lye down and take a sleep;
	It’s owre the chamber I will watch,
	Thy fair bodie to keep.’
88C.18	She had not watched at the chamber-door
	An hour but only three,
	Till four and twenty belted knichts
	Did seek his fair bodie.
88C.19	‘O did you see the hunt?’ she says,
	‘Or did you see the hounds?
	Or did you see that gallant steed,
	That last rade thro the town?’
88C.20	‘What colour was the fox?’ they said,
	‘What colour was the hounds?
	What colour was the gallant steed,
	That’s far yont London toun?’
88C.21	‘O dark grey was the fox,’ she said,
	‘And light grey was the hounds,
	But milk-white was the gallant steed
	That’s far yont London town.’
88C.22	‘Rise up, rise up, Sweet William,’ she says,
	‘Rise up, and go away;
	For four and twenty belted knights
	Were seeking thy bodye.’
88C.23	Sweet William, having his two-edged sword,
	He leaned it quite low to the ground,
	And he has given his own true-love
	A deep and deadly wound.
88C.24	‘What aileth thee, Sweet William?’ she says,
	‘What harm now have I done?
	I never harmed a hair of your head
	Since ever this love began.’
88C.25	‘Oh live, oh live, my own true-love,
	Oh live but half an hour,
	And the best doctor in London town
	Shall come within thy bower.’
88C.26	‘How can I live? how shall I live?
	How can I live half an hour?
	For don’t you see my very heart’s blood
	All sprinkled on the floor?’
88C.27	William, having his two-edged sword,
	He leaned it quite low to the ground,
	And he has given his own bodie
	A deep and deadly wound.

88D: Young Johnstone

88D.1	JOHNSTON HEY and Young Caldwell
	Were drinking o the wine:
	‘O will ye marry my sister?
	And I will marry thine.’
88D.2	‘I winna marry your sister,
	Altho her locks are broun;
	But I’ll make her my concubine,
	As I ride through the toun.’
88D.3	Syne Johnston drew a gude braid sword,
	That hang down by his knee,
	And he has run the Young Caldwell
	Out through the fair bodie.
88D.4	Up he gat, and awa he rade,
	By the clear light o the moon,
	Until he came to his mother’s door,
	And there he lichtit doun.
88D.5	‘Whare hae ye been, son Willie,’ she said,
	‘Sae late and far in the night?’
	‘O I hae been at yon new slate house,
	Hearing the clergy speak.’
88D.6	‘I dreamd a dream, son Willie,’ she said,
	‘I doubt it bodes nae gude;
	That your ain room was fu o red swine,
	And your bride’s bed daubd wi blude.’
88D.7	‘To dream o blude, mither,’ he said,
	‘It bodeth meikle ill;
	And I hae slain a Young Caldwell,
	And they’re seeking me to kill.’
88D.8	‘Gin ye hae slain a Young Caldwell,
	Alace and wae is me!
	But gin your fair body’s free frae skaith,
	The easier I will be.’
88D.9	Up he gat, and awa he rade,
	By the clear licht o the mune,
	Until he cam to his sister’s bower,
	And there he lichtit doun.
88D.10	‘Whare hae ye been, brither,’ she said,
	‘Sae late and far in the night?’
	‘O I hae been in yon new slate house,
	Hearing the clergy speak.’
88D.11	‘I dreamd a dream, brither,’ she said,
	‘I doubt it bodes nae gude;
	I dreamd the ravens eat your flesh,
	And the lions drank your blude.’
88D.12	‘To dream o blude, sister,’ he said,
	‘It bodeth meikle ill;
	And I hae slain a Young Caldwell,
	And they’re seeking me to kill.’
88D.13	‘Gin ye hae slain a Young Caldwell,
	Alace and wae is me!
	To be torn at the tail o wild horses
	Is the death I weet ye’ll die.’
88D.14	Up he gat, and awa he rade,
	By the clear light o the mune,
	Untill he cam to his true-love’s bower,
	And there he lichtit doun.
88D.15	‘Whare hae ye been, Love Willie,’ she said,
	‘Sae late and far in the night?’
	‘O I hae been in yon new sklate house,
	Hearing the clergy speak.’
88D.16	‘I dreamd a dream, Willie,’ she said,
	‘I doubt it bodes nae gude;
	I dreamd the ravens ate your flesh,
	And the lions drank your blude.’
88D.17	‘To dream o ravens, love,’ he said,
	‘Is the loss o a near friend;
	And I hae killed your brither dear,
	And for it I’ll be slain.’
88D.18	‘Gin ye hae slain my ae brither,
	Alace and wae is me!
	But gin your fair body’s free frae skaith,
	The easier I will be.
88D.19	‘Lye doun, lye doun, Love Willie,’ she said,
	‘Lye doun and tak a sleep;
	And I will walk the castel wa,
	Your fair bodie to keep.’
88D.20	He laid him doun within her bowr,
	She happit him wi her plaid,
	And she’s awa to the castle-wa,
	To see what would betide.
88D.21	She hadna gane the castle round
	A time but only three,
	Till four and twenty beltit knichts
	Cam riding ower the lea.
88D.22	And whan they came unto the gate,
	They stude and thus did say:
	‘O did ye see yon bludie knicht,
	As he rade out this way?’
88D.23	‘What colour was his hawk?’ she said,
	‘What colour was his hound?
	What colour was the gudely steed
	The bludie knicht rade on?’
88D.24	‘Nut-brown was his hawk,’ they said,
	‘And yellow-fit was his hound,
	And milk-white was the goodly steed
	The bluidie knicht rade on.’
88D.25	‘Gin nut-brown was his hawk,’ she said,
	‘And yellow-fit was his hound,
	And milk-white was the gudely steed,
	He’s up to London gone.’
88D.26	They spurrd their steeds out ower the lea,
	They being void o fear;
	Syne up she gat, and awa she gade,
	Wi tidings to her dear.
88D.27	‘Lye still, lye still, Love Willie,’ she said,
	‘Lye still and tak your sleep;’
	Syne he took up his good braid sword,
	And wounded her fu deep.
88D.28	‘O wae be to you, Love Willie,’ she said,
	‘And an ill death may ye die!
	For first ye slew my ae brither,
	And now ye hae killd me.’
88D.29	‘Oh live, oh live, true-love,’ he said,
	‘Oh live but ae half hour,
	And there’s not a docter in a’ London
	But sall be in your bower.’
88D.30	‘How can I live, Love Willie,’ she said,
	‘For the space of half an hour?
	Dinnae ye see my clear heart’s blood
	A rinnin down the floor?
88D.31	‘Tak aff, tak aff my holland sark,
	And rive’t frae gare to gair,
	And stap it in my bleeding wounds;
	They’ll may be bleed nae mair.’
88D.32	Syne he took aff her holland sark,
	And rave’t frae gare to gair,
	And stappit it in her bleeding wounds,
	But aye they bled the mair.
88D.33	‘Gae dress yoursell in black,’ she said,
	‘And gae whistling out the way,
	And mourn nae mair for your true-love
	When she’s laid in the clay.’
88D.34	He leaned his halbert on the ground,
	The point o’t to his breast,
	Saying, Here three sauls [’s] gaun to heaven;
	I hope they’ll a’ get rest.

88E: Young Johnstone

88E.1	LORD JOHN stands in his stable door,
	Says he, I will gae ride,
	His lady, in her bigly bower?
	Desired him to bide.
88E.2	‘How can I bide? how can I bide?
	How shall I bide wi thee?
	When I hae killd your ae brother;
	You hae nae mair but he.’
88E.3	‘If ye hae killd my ae brother,
	Alas, and wae is me!
	If ye be well yoursell, my love,
	The less matter will be.
88E.4	‘Ye’ll do you to yon bigly bower,
	And take a silent sleep,
	And I’ll watch in my highest tower,
	Your fair body to keep.’
88E.5	She has shut her bigly bower,
	All wi a silver pin,
	And done her to the highest tower,
	To watch that nane come in.
88E.6	But as she looked round about,
	To see what she could see,
	There she saw nine armed knights
	Come riding oer the lea.
88E.7	‘God make you safe and free, lady,
	God make you safe and free!
	Did you see a bludy knight
	Come riding oer the lea?’
88E.8	‘O what like was his hawk, his hawk?
	And what like was his hound?
	If his steed has ridden well,
	He’s passd fair Scotland’s strand.
88E.9	‘Come in, come in, gude gentlemen,
	And take white bread and wine;
	And aye the better ye’ll pursue,
	The lighter that ye dine.’
88E.10	‘We thank you for your bread, lady,
	We thank you for the wine,
	And I woud gie my lands sae broad
	Your fair body were mine.’
88E.11	She has gane to her bigly bower,
	Her ain gude lord to meet;
	A trusty brand he quickly drew,
	Gae her a wound sae deep.
88E.12	‘What harm, my lord, provokes thine ire
	To wreak itself on me,
	When thus I strove to save thy life,
	Yet served for sic a fee?’
88E.13	‘Ohon, alas, my lady gay,
	To come sae hastilie!
	I thought it was my deadly foe,
	Ye had trysted into me.
88E.14	‘O live, O live, my gay lady,
	The space o ae half hour,
	And nae a leech in a’ the land
	But I’se bring to your bower.’
88E.15	‘How can I live? how shall I live?
	How can I live for thee?
	Ye see my blude rin on the ground,
	My heart’s blude by your knee.
88E.16	‘O take to flight, and flee, my love,
	O take to flight, and flee!
	I woudna wish your fair body
	For to get harm for me.’
88E.17	‘Ae foot I winna flee, lady,
	Ae foot I winna flee;
	I’ve dune the crime worthy o death,
	It’s right that I shoud die.
88E.18	‘O deal ye well at my love’s lyke
	The beer but an the wine;
	For ere the morn, at this same time,
	Ye’ll deal the same at mine.’

88F: Young Johnstone

88F.1	AS WILLIE and the young Colnel
	Were drinking at the wine,
	‘O will ye marry my sister?’ says Will,
	‘And I will marry thine.’