The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Edited by Francis James Child. |
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 | The English and Scottish Popular Ballads |  |
395
Lord John
JOHNIE SCOT—N
1
Lord John he's on to England gone,To England gone is he;
Love John he's on to England gone,
The king's banneret to be.
2
He hadna been in fair EnglandO but a little while,
Till faen in love wi the king's daughter,
And to him she's with chile.
3
Now word is to the kitchen gane,And word is to the ha,
And word is to the king's high court,
And that was warst of a'.
4
Out then spake the king himsell,An angry man was he:
I'll put her into prison strong,
And starve her till she die.
5
Love John he's on to Scotland gone,I wat he's on wi speed;
Love John he's on to Scotland gone,
And as good was his need.
6
He hadna been in fair ScotlandBut a very short tide,
Till he minded on the damsel
That lay last by his side.
7
‘Whare will I get a bonny boy,Will win baith meat and fee,
That will run on to fair England,
And haste him back to me?’
8
‘O here am I, a bonny boy,Will win baith meat and fee,
That will run on to fair England,
And haste him back to thee.’
9
‘Where ye find the grass grow green,Ye'll slack your shoes and rin;
And when ye find the brigs broken,
Ye'll bend your bow and swim.
10
‘And when ye come to the king's high court,Ye'll rin it round about,
And there ye'll see a lady gay,
At a window looking out.
11
‘Bid her take this shirt of silk,Her ain hand sewed the sleeve;
Bid her come to good green-wood,
At her parents spier nae leave.
12
‘Bid her take this shirt of silk,Her ain hand sewed the gair;
Bid her come to good green-wood,
Love John he waits her there.’
13
Where he found the grass grow green,He slackd his shoes and ran;
Where he fan the brigs broken,
He bent his bow and swam.
14
When he came to the king's high court,He ran it round about;
And there he saw the lady gay,
At the window looking out.
15
‘Ye're bidden take this shirt of silk,Yere ain hand sewed the sleeve;
Ye're bidden come to good green-wood,
At your parents spier nae leave.
16
‘Ye're bidden take this shirt of silk,Yere ain hand sewed the gair;
Ye're bidden come to good green-wood,
Love John he waits you there.’
17
‘My feet are in the fetters strong,Instead of silken sheen;
My breast-plate's of the cold iron,
Instead of gold so fine.
18
‘But I will write a broad letter,And seal it with my hand,
And send it off to my Love Johnny,
And let him understand.’
19
The first line that he looked on,A loud laughter laught he;
But ere he read it to the end,
The tear blinded his ee.
20
‘O I will on to fair England,Whatever me betide,
For to relieve the damsel
That lay last by my side.’
21
Out it spake his father dear,A noble lord was he:
396
Ye'll neer come back to me.
22
Out it spake a noble lord,A noble lord, I wat, was he:
Fifteen of our Scottish lords
Will bear his honour companie.
23
The first town that they eer came till,They gart the bells be rung;
The next town that they came till,
They gart the mass be sung.
24
And when they came to the king's court,They gart the trumpet soun,
Till the king and all his merry young men
Did marvel at the tune.
25
‘Is this the Duke of Marlborough,Or James, the Scottish king?
Or is it else some Scottish lord,
Come here a visiting?’
26
‘It's not the Duke of Marlborough,Nor James, the Scottish king:
It is Love John of fair Scotland,
Come here a visiting.’
27
‘If this be John of fair Scotland,He's dearly welcome to me;
The morn ere he eat or drink,
High hanged he shall be.’
28
He's taen his broadsword in his hand,And stripd it oer a stane;
Then thro and thro the king's high court
With broadsword now is gane.
29
They fought it up, they fought it down,Till they were weary men,
When the blood, like drops of rain,
Came trickling down the plain.
30
Out it spake the king himsel,Ane angry man was he:
I have ane Italian within my court
Will fight ye three and three.
31
Out it came that ae Italian,As pale as death was he,
And on the point of Johnny's sword
That ae Italian did die.
32
‘A clerk, a clerk,’ the king he cried,‘And seal her tocher wi;’
‘A priest, a priest,’ Lord John he cried,
‘That we may married be.
33
‘For I want neither gold,’ he said,‘Nor do I want your gear;
But I do want my ain true-love,
For I have bought her dear.’
| The English and Scottish Popular Ballads | |