No: 99; variant: 99L
- JOHNNIE SCOTT’S a hunting gane,
To England’s woods sae wild;
The fairest flower of all England
To Johnnie provd big with child.
- It’s word’s going up, and word’s going down,
Going to the king’s bower,
That his dear daughter was with child,
That was his daily flower.
- ‘If she be with child,
As I suppose she be,
I’ll put her into prison strong,
And hunger her till she die.’
- The king he wrote a letter broad,
And sealed it with his hands,
And sent it down to Johnnie Scott,
In Scotland where he stands.
- The first line that Johnnie lookd on,
A merry man was he;
The next line that he lookd on,
The salt tears blinded his eye.
- Out then spoke his old father,
Who neer spoke out of time:
And if you go to England, son,
I doubt your coming home.
- Out then spoke our Scottish James,
Sitting low by Johnnie’s knee:
Fifteen score of my life-guards
Shall ride in your company.
- When Johnnie came to the king’s court
He rode it round about,
And there he spied his own true-love,
From the jail-window looking out.
- ‘Come down, true-love,’ said Johnnie Scott,
‘And now you’ll ride behind me;
Before I leave fair England
Some life shall die for thee.’
- ‘My feet are in the fetters strong,
I’m belted round about;
My breastplate is of the stubborn steel,
Instead of beaten gold.’
- When Johnnie came to the king’s bower
He tinkled at the ring;
Who was so ready as the king himself
To let proud Johnnie in!
- ‘Are ye the Duke of Marlborough,’ he said,
‘Or James, our Scottish king?
Or are you my bastard son,
From Scotland new come home?’
- ‘I’m not the Duke of Marlborough,’ he said,
‘Nor James, our Scottish king;
But I am just a good Scotch lad,
And Johnnie Scott’s my name.’
- ‘If you be Johnnie Scott,’ says he,
‘As I suppose you be,
The fairest flower in all England
Is big with child by thee.’
- ‘If she be big with child,’ said he,
‘As I hope her to be,
I’ll make it heir of all my lands,
And she my gay lady.’
- ‘O no,’ then the king he crys,
‘There’s no such thing will be;
There is an Italian in my court,
And by his hands ye’ll die.’
- ‘I’ll stand my ground,’ says Johnnie Scott,
‘I’ll stand it till I die;
I’ll stand my ground,’ says Johnnie Scott,
‘One foot I’d scorn to fly.’
- When the Italian was brought out,
A fearsome sight was he;
Between his brows three women’s spang,
His shoulders was yards three.
- As Johnnie, being a crafty lad,
Well tried at the sword was he,
Upon the point of his broad sword
He made the Italian die.