The ballad as here given is to be found in _A Collection of Old Ballads_, 1723, vol. i. p. 170. The whole title is: _Johnny Armstrang's Last Good-night, shewing how John Armstrong, with his eightscore men, fought a bloody battle with the Scotch King at Edenborough_. It had previously appeared in _Wit Restor'd_, 1658, p. 123, in very good shape, except the want of some stanzas towards the end. It is in this form, says Motherwell, that the story is preserved in the mouths of the people. Nevertheless, Allan Ramsay has inserted in his _Evergreen_ quite a different version, taken down from the mouth of a gentleman of the name of Armstrong, "the sixth generation from this John," which the reciter maintained to be the genuine ballad, "and the common one false." Ramsay's copy is subjoined, and the imperfect edition from _Wit Restor'd_ finds a place in the Appendix. The following verses, generally styled _Armstrong's Good-night_, are said to have been composed by one of that tribe who was executed in 1601 for the murder of Sir John Carmichael, Warden of the Middle Marches. They are from Johnson's _Museum_, p. 620, and are also found in Herd's _Scottish Songs_, ii. 182. In Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, ii. 127, there is a twaddling piece called _The Last Guid Night_, which is a sort of imitation of these stanzas. The night is my departing night, The morn's the day I maun awa, There's no a friend or fae of mine, But wishes that I were awa. What I hae done for lack o' wit I never never can reca'; I trust ye're a' my friends as yet, Gude night, and joy be wi' you a'. * * * * * Is there ever a man in all Scotland, From the highest estate to the lowest degree, That can shew himself now before our King? Scotland is so full of treachery. Yes, there is a man in Westmorland, 5 And Johnny Armstrong they do him call; He has no lands nor rents coming in, Yet he keeps eightscore men within his hall. He has horses and harness for them all, And goodly steeds that be milk-white, 10 With their goodly belts about their necks, With hats and feathers all alike. The King he writes a loving letter, And with his own hand so tenderly, And hath sent it unto Johnny Armstrong, 15 To come and speak with him speedily. When John he look'd this letter upon, He lok'd as blith as a bird in a tree; "I was never before a King in my life, My father, my grandfather, nor none of us three. 20 "But seeing we must go before the King, Lord, we will go most gallantly; Ye shall every one have a velvet coat, Laid down with golden laces three.