Classic Poem

Now Liddisdale has lain long in,
Lal de ral, lal de ral, lal de ral, la lal de;
There is no rideing there at a',
Lal de ral, lal de ral, lal de ral, la dal de;
Their horse is growing so lidder and fatt
That are lazie in the sta'.
Lal lal de ridle la di, fal lal de ridle la di,
Fal lal di lal la, fal lal di ridle la.

Then Johne Armstrang to Willie can say,
Billie, a rideing then will we;
England and us has been long at a feed,
Perhaps we may hitt off some bootie.

Then they'r com'd on to Hutton Hall,
They rade that proper place about;
But the laird he was the wiser man,
For he had left nae gear without.

Then he had left nae gear to steal
Except six sheep upon a lee;
Says Johnie, I'de rather in England die
Before th[i]r six sheep good to Liddisdale with me.

But how cal'd they the man we last with mett,
Billie, as we came over the know?
That same he is an innocent fool
And some men calls him Dick o' the Cow.

That fool has three as good kyne of his own
As is in a' Cumberland, billie, quoth he;
Betide my life, betide my death,
These three kyne shal go to Liddisdaile with me.

Then they're com'd on to the poor fool's house,
And they have broken his wals so wide;
They have loos'd out Dick o' the Cow's kyne three
And tane three co'erlets off his wife's bed.

Then on the morn when the day grew light
The shouts and crys rose loud and high:
Hold thy tongue, my wife, he says,
And of thy crying let me bee.

Hald thy tongue, my wife, he says,
And of thy crying let me bee,
And ay that where thou wants a kow,
Good sooth that I shal bring the[e] three.

Then Dick 's com'd on to lord and master,
And I wat[e] a drerie fool [was] he:
Hald thy tongue, my fool, he says,
For I may not stand to jest with thee.

Shame speed a' your jesting, my lord, quo' Dickie,
For nae such jesting grees with me;
Liddesdaile has been in my house this last night
And they have tane my three kyne from me.

But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwel,
To be your poor fool and your leel,
Unless ye give me leave, my lord,
To go to Liddisdale and steal.

To give thee leave, my fool, he says,
Thou speaks against mine honour and me;
Unless thou give me thy trouth and thy right hand
Thou'l steal frae nane but them that sta' from thee.

There is my trouth and my right hand;
My head shal hing on Hairibie,
I'le never crose Carlele sands again
If I steal frae a man but them that sta' frae me.

Dickie has tane leave at lord and master,
And I wate a merrie fool was he;
He has brought a bridle and a pair of new spurs,
And has packed them up in his breek-thigh.

The Dickie 's come on for Puddinburn
Even as fast as he may drie;
Dickie 's come on for Puddinburn
Where there was thirty Armstrongs and three.

What 's this com'd on me, quo' Dickie,
What meakle wae 's this happen'd on me, quo' he,
When here is but ae innocent fool
And there is thirty Armstrongs and three!

Yet he 's com'd up to the hall among them all,
So wel he became his courtisie:
Well may ye be, my good Laird's Jock,
But the deil bless all your companie.

I'm come to plain of your man Fair Johnie Armstrong
And syne his billie Willie, quo' he;
How they have been in my house this last night
And they have tane my three ky frae me.

Quo' Johnie Armstrong, We'll him hang;
Nay, thain quo' Willie, we'll him slae;
But up bespake another young man, We'le nit him in a four-nooked sheet,
Give him his burden of batts, and lett him gae.

Then up bespake the good Laird's Jock,
The best falla in the companie:
[S]itt thy way down a little while, Dicke,
And a peice of thine own cow's hough I'l give to thee.

But Dicki[e]'s heart it grew so great
That never a bitt of it he dought to eat;
But Dickie was warr of ane auld peat-house
Where there al the night he thought for to sleep.

Then Dickie was Warr of that auld peat-house
Where there al the night he thought for to ly;
And a' the prayers the poor fool pray'd was,
I wish I had a mense for my own three kye!

Then it was the use of Puddinburn,
And the house of Mangertoun, all haile,
These that came not at the first call
They gott no more meat till the next meall.

The lads, that hungry and aevery was,
Above the door-head they flang the key;
Dickie took good notice to that,
Says, There 's a bootie younder for me.

Then Dickie 's gane into the stable
Where there stood thirty horse and three;
He has ty'd them a' with St Mary knot,
All these horse but barely three.

He has ty'd them a' with St Mary knott,
All these horse but barely three;
He has loupen on one, taken another in his hand,
And out at the door and gane is Dickie.

Then on the morn when the day grew light
The shouts and cryes rose loud and high:
What 's that theife? quo' the good Laird's Jock;
Tel me the truth and the verity.

What 's that theife? quo' the good Laird's Jock;
See unto me ye do not lie.
Dick o' the Cow has been in the stable this last night
And has my brother's horse and mine frae me.

Ye wad never be teld it, quo' the Laird's Jock;
Have ye not found my tales fu' leel?
Ye wade never out of England bide
Till crooked and blind and a' wad steal.

But will thou lend me thy bay? Fair Johne Armstrong can say;
There 's nae mae horse loose in the stable but he;
And I'le either bring ye Dick o' the Kow again
Or the day is come that he must die.

To lend thee my bay, the Laird's Jock can say,
He 's both worth gold and good monie;
Dick o' the Kow has away twa horse,
I wish no thou should no make him three.

He has tane the Laird's jack on his back,
The twa-handed sword that hang lieugh by his thigh;
He has tane the steel cap on his head
And on is he to follow Dickie.

Then Dickie was not a mile off the town,
I wate a mile but barely three,
Till John Armstrang has O'ertane Dick o' the Kow
Hand for hand on Cannobei lee.

Abide th[ee], bide now, Dickie than,
The day is come that thow must die.
Dickie looked o'er his left shoulder:
Johnie, has thow any mo in thy company?

There is a preacher in owr chapell,
And a' the lee-lang day teaches he;
When day is gane and night is come,
There 's never a word I mark but three.

The first and second 's Faith and Conscience,
The third is, Johnie, Take head of thee;
But what faith and conscience had thow, traitor,
When thou took my three kye frae me?

And when thou had tane my three kye
Thou thought in thy heart thou was no wel sped;
But thou sent thi billie Willie o'er the know
And he took three co'erlets of my wife's bed.

Then Johne lett a spear fa' leaugh by his thigh,
Thought well to run the innocent through;
But the powers above was more than his,
He ran but the poor fool's jerkin through.

Together they ran or ever they blan--
This was Dickie, the fool, and hee--
Dickie could not win to him with the blade of the sword
But he feld [him] with the plummet under the eye.

Now Dickie has [feld] Fair Johne Armstrong,
The prettiest man in the south countrey;
Gramercie, then can Dickie say,
I had twa horse, thou has made me three.

He has tane the laird's jack off his back,
The twa-handed sword that hang leiugh by his thigh;
He has tane the steel cap off his head:
Johnie, I'le tel my master I met with thee.

When Johne waken'd out of his dream
I wate a dreiry man was he:
Is thou gane now, Dickie, than?
The shame gae in thy company.

Is thou gane now, Dickie, than?
The shame go in thy companie;
For if I should live this hundred year
I shal never fight with a fool after thee.

Then Dickie comed home to lord and master
Even as fast as he may driee:
Now Dickie, I shal neither eat meat nor drink
Till high hanged that thou shall be!

The shame speed the liars, my lord, quo' Dickie,
That was no the promise ye made to me;
For I'd never gane to Liddesdale to steal
Till that I sought my leave at thee.

But what gart thow steal the Laird's-Jock's horse?
And, limmer, what gart thou steal [him? quo' he];
For lang might thow in Cumberland dwelt
Or the Laird's Jock had stoln ought frae thee.

Indeed I wate ye leed, my lord,
And even so loud as I hear ye lie;
I wan him frae his man, Fair Johne Armstrong,
Hand for hand on Cannobie lee.

There 's the jack was on his back,
The twa-handed sword that hang lewgh by his thigh;
There 's the steel cap was on his head;
I have a' these takens to lett you see.

If that be true thou to me tels--
I trow thou dare not tel a lie--
I'le give thee twenty pound for the good horse,
Wel teld in thy clok-lap shall be.

And I'le give thee one of my best milk-kye
To maintain thy wife and children three;
[And that may be as good, I think,
As ony twa o' thine might be.]

The shame speed the liars, my lord, quo' Dicke,
Trow ye ay to make a fool of me?
I'le either have thirty pound for the good horse,
Or else he 's gae to Mattan fair wi' me.

Then he has given him thirty pound for the good horse,
All in gold and good monie;
He has given him one of his best milk-kye
To maintain his wife and children three.

Then Dickie 's come down through Carlile town
Even as fast as he may drie;
The first of men that he with mett
Was my lord's brother, Bailife Glazenberrie.

Well may ye be, my good Ralph Scrupe!
Welcome, by brother's fool! quo' he;
Where did thou gett Fair Johnie Armstrong's horse?
Where did I get him but steall him, quo' he.

But will thou sell me Fair Johnie Armstrong['s] horse?
And, billie, will thou sel him to me? quo' he;
Ay, and tel me the monie on my cloke-lap
For there 's not one farthing I'le trust thee.

I'le give thee fifteen pound for the good horse,
Wel teld on thy cloke-lap shal be;
And I'le give [thee] one of my best milk-kye
To maintain thy wife and thy children three.

The shame speed the liars, my lord, quo' Dicke,
Trow ye ay to make a fool of me? quo' he;
I'le either have thirty pound for the good horse
Or else he 's to Mattan Fair with me.

He has given him thirty pound for the good horse,
All in gold and good monie;
He has given him one of his best milk-kye
To maintain his wife and children three.

Then Dickie lap a loup on high,
And I wate a loud laughter leugh he:
I wish the neck of the third horse were browken,
For I have a better of my own, and onie better can be.

Then Dickie com'd hame to his wife again--
Judge ye how the poor fool he sped;
He has given her three score of English pounds
For the three auld co'erlets was tane of her bed.

Hae, take thee there twa as good kye,
I trow, as al thy three might be;
And yet here is a white-footed naigg,
I think he'le carry booth thee and me.

But I may no langer in Cumberland dwell,
The Armstrongs the[y]'ll hang me high;
But Dickie has tane leave at lord and master,
And Burgh under Stanemuir there dwels Dickie.