1 ‘Where shall I gang, my ain true love? Where shall I gang to hide me? For weel ye ken i yere father’s bowr It wad be death to find me.’ 2 ‘O go you to yon tavern-house, An there count owre your lawin, An, if I be a woman true, I’ll meet you in the dawin.’ 3 O he’s gone to yon tavern-house, An ay he counted his lawin, An ay he drank to her guid health Was to meet him in the dawin. 4 O he’s gone to yon tavern-house, An counted owre his lawin, When in there cam three armed men, To meet him in the dawin. 5 ‘O woe be unto woman’s wit! It has beguiled many; She promised to come hersel, But she sent three men to slay me.’ * * * * * B Skene MS., p. 10; taken down in the north of Scotland, 1802–3. 1 ‘Ye are the Duke of Athol’s nurse, And I’m the new-come darling; I’ll gie you my gay gold rings To get ae word of my leman.’ 2 ‘I am the Duke of Athol’s nurse, And ye’re the new-come darling; Keep well your gay gold rings, Ye sall get twa words o your leman.’ 3 He leand oure his saddle-bow, It was not for to kiss her: ‘Anither woman has my heart, And I but come here to see ye.’ 4 ‘If anither woman has your heart, O dear, but I am sorry! Ye hie you down to yon ale house, And stay untill ‘t be dawing, And if I be a woman true I’ll meet you in the dawing.’ 5 He did him down to yon ale-house, And drank untill ’twas dawing; He drank the bonnie lassie’s health That was to clear his lawing. 6 He lookit out of a shot-window, To see if she was coming, And there he seed her seven brithers, So fast as they were running! 7 He went up and down the house, Says, ‘Landlady, can you save me? For yonder comes her seven brithers, And they are coming to slay me.’ 8 So quick she minded her on a wile How she might protect him! She dressd him in a suit of woman’s attire And set him to her baking. 9 ‘Had you a quarterer here last night, Or staid he to the dawing? Shew us the room the squire lay in, We are come to clear his lawing.’ 10 ‘I had a quarterer here last night, But he staid not to the dawing; He called for a pint, and paid as he went, You have nothing to do with his lawing.’ 11 They searchd the house baith up and down, The curtains they spaird not to rive em, And twenty times they passd The squire at his baking. * * * * * C Kinloch MSS, I, 335. 1 As I went down by the Duke of Athole’s gates, Where the bells of the court were ringing, And there I heard a fair maid say, O if I had but ae sight o my Johnie!