But if a' be true they tell me now, And a' be true I hear, Young Johnny's on to Lundan gane, 15 The king's banner to bear. He hadna been in fair Lundan But twalmonths twa or three, Till the fairest lady in a' Lundan Fell in love wi' young Johnny. 20 This news did sound thro' Lundan town, Till it came to the king, That the muckle Scot had fa'in in love Wi' his daughter, Lady Jean. When the king got word o' that, 25 A solemn oath sware he; "This weighty Scott sall strait a rope, And hanged he shall be." When Johnny heard the sentence past, A light laugh then gae he; 30 "While I hae strength to yield my blade, Ye darena a' hang me." The English dogs were cunning rogues; About him they did creep, And ga'e him draps o' lodomy 35 That laid him fast asleep. Whan Johnny waken'd frae his sleep, A sorry heart had he; His jaws and hands in iron bands, His feet in fetters three. 40 "O whar will I get a little wee boy Will work for meat and fee, That will rin on to my uncle, At the foot of Benachie?" "Here am I, a little wee boy, 45 Will work for meat and fee, That will rin on to your uncle, At the foot of Benachie." "Whan ye come whar grass grows green, Slack your shoes and rin; 50 And whan ye come whar water's strong, Ye'll bend your bow and swim. "And whan ye come to Benachie, Ye'll neither chap nor ca'; Sae well's ye'll ken auld Johnny there, 55 Three feet abeen them a'. "Ye'll gie to him this braid letter, Seal'd wi' my faith and troth; And ye'll bid him bring alang wi' him The body, Jock o' Noth." 60 "Whan he came whar grass grew green, He slack't his shoes and ran; And whan he came whar water's strong, He bent his bow and swam. And whan he came to Benachie, 65 Did neither chap nor ca'; Sae well's he kent auld Johnny there, Three feet abeen them a'. "What news, what news, my little wee boy? Ye never were here before;" 70 "Nae news, nae news, but a letter from Your nephew, Johnny Moir. "Ye'll take here this braid letter, Seal'd wi' his faith and troth; And ye're bidden bring alang wi' you 75 The body, Jock o' Noth." Benachie lyes very low, The tap o' Noth lyes high; For a' the distance that's between, He heard auld Johnny cry. 80