The English and Scottish Popular Ballads :: :: University of Virginia Library

Communicated to Robert Chambers by Elliot Anderson, Galashiels, 21 April, 1827, in a letter preserved among Kinloch's papers. Copied, with changes, in Kinloch MSS, I, 177. Furnished me by Mr. Macmath.

1

‘I wish we had our king,’ quo Gude Wallace,
‘An ilka true Scotsman had his nawn;
For between us an the southron louns
I doubt some ill seed has been sawn.’

2

Wallace he owre the water gaed,
An looked low down by a glen,
An there he saw a pretty, pretty maid,
As she was at the well washin.

3

‘O weel may ye wash, my bonny, bonny maid!
An weel may ye saep, an me to see!
If ye have ony tidins to tell,
I pray you tell them unto me.’

4

‘I have no tidins for to tell,
Nor ony uncos do I ken;
But up into yon little alehouse
An there sits fyfteen Englishmen.

5

‘An ay they are speakin o Gude Wallace,
An ay they are doomin him to hang:’
‘O forbid!’ quo Gude Wallace,
‘He's owre truehearted a Scotsman.

6

‘Had I but a penny in my pouch,
As I have not a single bawbee,
I would up into yon little alehouse,
An ay thae southron blades to see.’

270

7

She's put her hand into her pouch,
An counted him out pennies three;
‘If ever I live to come back this way,
Weel paid the money it shall be.’

8

He's taen a staff into his hand,
An leand himsel outowre a tree,
An he's awa to yon little alehouse,
An ay the southron louns to see.

9

When he gaed in to that little alehouse,
He bad his bennison be there;
The captain answered him [in] wrath,
He answerd him with domineer.

10

‘O whare was ye born, ye crooked auld carle?
An how may this your dwellin be?’
‘O I was born in fair Scotland,
A crooked carle altho I be.’

11

‘O I would een gie twenty shillins
To ony sic crooked carle as thee
That wad find me out Gude Wallace;
For ay that traitor I lang to see.’

12

‘Haud out your hand,’ quo Gude Wallace,
‘I doubt your money be not gude;
If ye'll gie ither twenty shillins,
It neer shall bide ye anither bode.’

13

He's taen the captain outowre the jaws,
Anither word spak he neer mair;
An five he sticket whare they sat,
The rest lay scramblin here an there.

14

‘Get up, get up, gudewife,’ he says,
‘An get some meat ready for me,
For I hae fasted this three lang days;
A wat right hungry I may be.’

15

The meat it wasna weel made ready,
Nor as weel on the table set,
Till there cam fyfteen Englishmen
An lighted a' about the yett.

16

The gudewife ran but, the gudeman ran ben;
It put them a' in sic a stoure
That five he sticket whare they sat,
An five lay sprawlin at the door.

17

An five are to the greenwood gane,
An he's hangd them a' outowre a tree,
An before the mornin twal o clock
He dined wi his men at Loch Marie.