"Hawks and hounds they may seek me,
As I trow well they be;

For I have killed the young Col'nel,
And thy true love was he."

"If ye hae killed the young Col'nel,
O dule and wae is me;

But I wish ye may be hanged on a hie gallows,

And hae nae power to flee."

And he's awa' to his true love's bower,

He's tirled at the pin ;

"Whar hae ye been, my dear Johnstone, Sae late a coming in?

"I have dreamed a dreary dream," she says, "I wish it may be for good;

They were seeking you with hawks and hounds, And the young Col'nel was dead."

"Hawks and hounds they may seek
As I trow well they be;

For I hae killed the young Col'nel,
And thy ae brother was he."

"If ye hae killed the young Col'nel,

O dule and wae is me;

me,

But I care the less for the young Col❜nel,
If thy ain body be free.

"Come in, come in, my dear Johnstone,
Come in and take a sleep;

And I will go to my casement,
And carefully I'll thee keep."

He hadna weel got up the stair,
And entered in her bower,

When four and twenty belted knights
Came riding to the door.

"O did you see a bloody squire,
A bloody squire was he;
O did you see a bloody squire
Come riding o'er the lea?"

"What colour were his hawks?" she says,

"What colour were his hounds?

What colour was the gallant steed
That bore him from the bounds?"

"Bloody, bloody were his hawks,
And bloody were his hounds;
And milk-white was the gallant steed
That bore him from the bounds."

"Yes, bloody, bloody were his hawks,
And bloody were his hounds;
And milk-white was the gallant steed
That bore him from the bounds.

"But light ye down now, gentlemen,
And take some bread and wine;
An the steed be good he rides upon,
He's past the brig o' Lyne."

"We thank you for your bread, Lady, We thank you for your wine;

But I wad gie thrice three thousand pound, That bloody knight was ta'en."

"Lie still, lie still, my dear Johnstone,
Lie still and take a sleep;

For thy enemies are past and gone,
And carefully I will thee keep."

But young Johnstone had a little wee sword,
Hung low down by his gair,

And he stabbed it in fair Annet's breast,
A deep wound and a sair.

"What aileth thee now, dear Johnstone?

What aileth thee at me?

Hast thou not got my father's gold
Bot and my mither's fee?"

"Now live, now live, my dear Ladye,
Now live but half an hour;

And there's no a leech in a' Scotland
But shall be in thy bower.”

"How can I live, how shall I live?
Young Johnstone, do not you see
The red, red drops o' my bonnie heart's blood
Rin trickling down my knee?

"But take thy harp into thy hand,
And harp out owre yon plain,

And ne'er think mair on thy true love,

Than if she had never been.'

He hadna weel been out o' the stable,

And on his saddle set,

Till four and twenty broad arrows
Were thrilling in his heart.

* One version ends here. The concluding stanzas seem to have been added by another hand.

JOHNNIE SCOT.

In preparing this ballad for the press, three recited copies, all obtained from people considerably advanced in years, have been used. The ballad itself is popular in the shines of Renfrew, Dumbarton, and Stirling; and though the Editor has obtained no copy of it from the south of Scotland, yet he has been assured that it is also well known there; a fact of which there can be no doubt, as the Border names of Scot and Percy sufficiently identify it with that part of the country.

Whether the glory of the high achievement recorded in the billad should of right belong to the name of Scot or to that of M'Nauchton, is a question very hard of solution. Scot, of Satchels, in that strangest of all literary curiosities, his metrical "History of the Right Honourable Name of Sect," is dumb on the subject; and Buchanan, in his account of Scottish Surnames, is as profoundly silent regarding any one belonging to the ancient family of M'Nauchton, to whom the honour of this notable duel can with any degree of likelihood be attributed. For his own part, the Editor has been somewhat gravelled to make up his mind on this momentous point; but at length he has been inclined to concede the adventure perilous, even to Johnnie Scot, whoever he was, not only on the accourt that two copies of the ballad, and these by far the most perfect in their narrative, are quite unanimous on this head, but that these likewise retain the word "Tailliant," which in the corresponding part of the third copy, is changed into "Champion." This word Tailliant he has never before met with in any ballad; but it is an evident derivative from the French verb Taillader. *-MOTHERWELL.

O JOHNNIE SCOT's to the hunting gane,

Unto the woods sae wild;

And Earl Percy's ae daughter

To him goes big wi' child.

* Quere-Is it not a misprint for Valiant or Valiant Man-i. e., Champion?

O word is to the kitchen gane,
And word is to the ha';

And word is to the highest towers,
Among the nobles a'.

"If she be wi' child," her father said,

"As woe forbid it be !

I'll put her into a prison strang,

And try the veritie."

"But if she be wi' child," her mother said,

As woe forbid it be !

I'll put her intil a dungeon dark,

And hunger her till she die."

O Johnnie's called his waiting man,
His name was Germanie ;*
"It's thou must to fair England gae,
Bring me that gay ladie.

"And here it is a silken sark;

Her ain hand sewed the sleeve;
Bid her come to the merry green wood,
To Johnnie her true love."

He rode till he came to Earl Percy's gate
He tirled at the pin;

"O wha is there?" said the proud porter,

But I daurna let thee in."

* All the copies which mention Johnnie's waiting-man concur in giving this name, which is probably descriptive of his country. In one copy, he, in place of Johnnie's uncle, is the person who heroically offers wager of kattle. But in another copy the whole words and actions ascribed to Johnnie's uncle, who "spak so bitterlie," are transferred to "Guid King James."