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70 |
DICK O' THE COW. |
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" Shame speed a' your jesting, my lord!" quo' Dickie,
" For nae sic jesting grees wi' me; Liddisdale's been i' my house last night,
And they hae tane my three ky frae me.
" But I may nae langer in Cumberland dwell, « To be your poor fool and your leal,
Unless ye gi' me leave, my lord, T gae t' Liddisdale and steal."
" I gi' thee leave,' my fool," he says ;
" Thou speakest against my honour and me, s> Unless thou gi' me thy trowth and thy hand,
Thou'lt steal frae nane but wha sta' frae thee."
" There is my trowth, and my right hand!
My head shall hang on Hairibee, I'll near cross Carlisle sands again, 55
If I steal frae a man but wha sta' frae me."
Dickie's tane leave at lord and master,
And I wat a merry fool was he; He's bought a bridle and a pair 0' new spurs,
And pack'd them up in his breek thigh. s>
Then Dickie's come on for Pudding-burn, E'en as fast as he might drie ;
B4. The place of execution at Carlisle.—P. M.
61. This was a house of strength held by the Armstrongs. |
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