PR Website - Johnie Scott

No: 99; variant: 99E

MCNAUCHTON'S unto England gane, The king's banner to bear: 'O do you see yon castle, boy? It's walled round about; There you will spy a fair ladye, In the window looking out.'
'Here is a silken sark, fair lady, Thine own hand sewed the sleeve, And thou must go to yon green wood, To Johnnie thy true-love.'
'The castle it is high, my boy, And walled round about; My feet are in the fetters strong, And how can I get out?
'My garters o the gude black iron, And they are very cold; My breast plate's of the sturdy steel, Instead of beaten gold.
'But had I paper, pen and ink, And candle at my command, It's I would write a lang letter To John in fair Scotland.'
The first line that Johnnie looked on, A loud, loud lauch leuch he; The second line that Johnnie looked on, The tear did blind his ee.
Says, I must unto England go, Whatever me betide, For to relieve my own fair lady, That lay last by my side.
Then up and spoke Johnnie's auld mither, A well spoke woman was she: If you do go to England, Johnnie, I may take farewell o thee.
Then up and spoke Johnnie's old father, A well spoke man was he: It's twenty-four of my gay troop Shall go along with thee.
When Johnie was on saddle set, Right comely to be seen, There was not so much as a married man In Johnie's companie; There was not so much as a married man, Not a one only but ane.
The first gude toun that Johnie came to, He made the bells be rung; The next gude toun that Johnie came to, He made the psalms be sung.
The next gude toun that Johnie came to, He made the drums beat round, Till the king and all his merry men A-marvelled at the sound.
'Are you the Duke of Mulberry, Or James, our Scotish king? Are you the Duke of Mulberry, From Scotland new come home?'
'I'm not the Duke of Mulberry, Nor James, our Scotish king; But I am a true Scotishman, McNaughtoun is my name.'
'If McNaughtoun be your name,' he said, 'As I trew well it be, The fairest lady in a' my court She goes with child to thee.
'If McNauchton be your name,' he said, 'As I trew well it be, Tomorrow morn by eight o clock O hanged you shall be.'
O Johnie had a bonnie little boy, His name was Germany: 'Before that we be all hanged, my sovereign, We'll fight you till we die.'
'Say on, say on, my bonnie little boy, It is well spoken of thee, For there is a campioun in my court Shall fight you three by three.'
Next morning about eight o'clock The king and his merry men, The queen and all her maidens fair, Came whistling down the green, To see the cruel fight begin, And see poor Johnnie slain.
They fought on, and Johnie fought on, Wi swords of tempered steel, Until the drops of red, red blood Ran prinkling down the field.
They fought on, and Johnie fought on, They fought so manfullie They left not a man alive in all the king's court, Not a man only but three.
'A priest, a priest,' poor Johnie cries, 'To wed my love and me;' 'A clerk, a clerk,' the king did cry, 'To write her portion free.'
'I'll have none of your gold,' he says, 'Nor none of your white money, But I will have mine own fair lady, Who has been dear to me.'
Johnie put a horn unto his mouth, He blew it wondrous schill; The sound is unto Scotland gane, Sair against all their will.
He put his horn to his mouth, He blew it ower again, And aye the sound the horn cried, 'McNaughtoun's cure to them!'