Some speak of lords, some speak of lairds,
And sic like men of high degree;
Of a gentleman I sing a sang,
Some time call’d Laird of Gilnockie.

The king he writes a loving letter,
With his ain hand sae tenderlie,
And he hath sent it to Johnnie Armstrang,
To come and speak with him speedilie.

The Elliots and Armstrangs did convene,
They were a gallant companie: 
“We’ll ride and meet our lawful king,
And bring him safe to Gilnockie.

“Make kinnen {3} and capon ready, then,
And venison in great plentie;
We’ll welcome here our royal king;
I hope he’ll dine at Gilnockie!”

They ran their horse on the Langholm howm,
And brake their spears with meikle main;
The ladies lookit frae their loft windows—­
“God bring our men weel hame again!”

When Johnnie came before the king,
With all his men sae brave to see,
The king he moved his bonnet to him;
He ween’d he was a king as well as he.

“May I find grace, my sovereign liege,
Grace for my loyal men and me? 
For my name it is Johnnie Armstrang,
And a subject of yours, my liege,” said he.

“Away, away, thou traitor strang! 
Out of my sight soon may’st thou be! 
I granted never a traitor’s life,
And now I’ll not begin with thee.”

“Grant me my life, my liege, my king! 
And a bonnie gift I’ll gi’e to thee;
Full four-and-twenty milk-white steeds,
Were all foal’d in ae year to me.

“I’ll gi’e thee all these milk-white steeds,
That prance and nicher {4} at a spear;
And as meikle gude Inglish gilt, {5}
As four of their braid backs dow {6} bear.”

“Away, away, thou traitor strang! 
Out of my sight soon may’st thou be! 
I granted never a traitor’s life,
And now I’ll not begin with thee.”

“Grant me my life, my liege, my king! 
And a bonnie gift I’ll gi’e to thee: 
Gude four-and-twenty ganging {7} mills,
That gang thro’ all the year to me.

“These four-and-twenty mills complete,
Shall gang for thee thro’ all the year;
And as meikle of gude red wheat,
As all their happers dow to bear.”

“Away, away, thou traitor strang! 
Out of my sight soon may’st thou be! 
I granted never a traitor’s life,
And now I’ll not begin with thee.”

“Grant me my life, my liege, my king! 
And a great gift I’ll gi’e to thee: 
Bauld four-and-twenty sisters’ sons
Shall for thee fecht, tho’ all shou’d flee.”

“Away, away, thou traitor strang! 
Out of my sight soon may’st thou be! 
I granted never a traitor’s life,
And now I’ll not begin with thee.”

“Grant me my life, my liege, my king! 
And a brave gift I’ll gi’e to thee: 
All between here and Newcastle town
Shall pay their yearly rent to thee.”

“Away, away, thou traitor strang! 
Out of my sight soon may’st thou be! 
I granted never a traitor’s life,
And now I’ll not begin with thee.”