|Lady Margaret sits in her bower door,
Sewing at her silken seam;
She heard a note in Elmond's-wood,
And wish'd she there had been.
She loot the seam fa' frae her side,
And the needle to her tae;
And she is on to Elmond-wood
As fast as she could gae.
She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but ane,
Till by it came a young hind chiel,
Says, "Lady, lat alane.
"O why pu' ye the nut, the nut,
Or why brake ye the tree?
For I am forester o' this wood;
Ye shou'd speer leave at me."
(_hind chiel_, young stripling. _speer_, ask.)
"I'll ask leave at no living man,
Nor yet will I at thee;
My father is king o'er a' this realm,
This wood belongs to me."
She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but three,
Till by it came him Young Akin,
And gar'd her lat them be.
The highest tree in Elmond's-wood,
He's pu'd it by the reet;
And he has built for her a bower
Near by a hollow seat.
He's built a bower, made it secure
Wi' carbuncle and stane;
Tho' travellers were never sae nigh,
Appearance it had nane.
He's kept her there in Elmond's-wood,
For six lang years and one;
Till six pretty sons to him she bear,
And the seventh she's brought home.
It fell ance upon a day,
This guid lord went from home;
And he is to the hunting gane,
Took wi' him his eldest son,
And when they were on a guid way,
Wi' slowly pace did walk,
The boy's heart being something wae,
He thus began to talk:--
"A question I wou'd ask, father,
Gin ye wou'dna angry be?"
"Say on, say on, my bonny boy,
Ye'se na be quarrell'd by me."
"I see my mithers cheeks aye weet,
I never can see them dry;
And I wonder what aileth my mither,
To mourn continually."
"Your mither was a king's daughter,
Sprung frae a high degree;
And she might hae wed some worthy prince,
Had she na been stown by me.
"I was her fathers cup-bearer,
Just at that fatal time;
I catch'd her on a misty night,
When summer was in prime.
"My love to her was most sincere,
Her love was great for me;
But when she hardships doth endure,
Her folly she does see."
"I'll shoot the buntin' o' the bush,
The linnet o' the tree,
And bring them to my dear mither,
See if she'll merrier be."
It fell upo' another day,
This guid lord he thought lang,
And he is to the hunting gane,
Took wi' him his dog and gun.
Wi' bow and arrow by his side,
He's off, single, alane;
And left his seven children to stay
Wi' their mither at hame.
"O, I will tell to you, mither,
Gin ye wadna angry be:"
"Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy,
Ye se na be quarrelled by me."
"As we came frae the hind-hunting,
We heard fine music ring:"
"My blessings on you my bonny boy,
I wish I'd been there my lane."
He's ta en his mither by the hand,
His six brithers also,
And they are on thro' Elmond's-wood,
As fast as they could go.
(_buntin'_, blackbird. _lane_, self.)
They wistna weel where they were ga en,
Wi' the strattlins o' their feet;
They wistna weel where they were ga'en,
Till at her father's gate.
"I hae nae money in my pocket,
But royal rings hae three;
I'll gie them you, my little young son,
And ye'll walk there for me.
"Ye'll gie the first to the proud porter,
And he will lat you in;
Ye'll gie the next to the butler boy,
And he will show you ben;
"Ye'll gie the third to the minstrel
That plays before the king;
He'll play success to the bonny boy,
Came thro' the wood him lane."
He gae the first to the proud porter,
And he open'd and let him in;
He gae the next to the butler boy,
And he has shown him ben;
He gae the third to the minstrel
That play'd before the king;
And he play'd success to the bonny boy,
Came thro' the wood him lane.
(_strattlins,_ straddlings (?). _ben_, in.)
Now when he came before the king,
Fell low down on his knee:
The king he turned round about,
And the saut tear blinded his ee.
"Win up, win up, my bonny boy,
Gang frae my company;
Ye look sae like my dear daughter,
My heart will burst in three."
"If I look like your dear daughter,
A wonder it is none;
If I look like your dear daughter,
I am her eldest son.
"Will ye tell me, ye wee little boy,
Where may my Margaret be?"
"She's just now standing at your gates,
And my six brothers her wi'."
"O where are all my porter-boys
That I pay meat and fee,
To open my gates baith wide and braid?
Let her come in to me."
When she came in before the king,
Fell low down on her knee:
"Win up, win up, my daughter dear,
This day ye'll dine wi' me."
"Ae bit I canna eat, father,
Nor ae drop can I drink,
Till I see my mither and sister dear,
For lang for them I think."
When she came before the queen,
Fell low down on her knee:
"Win up, win up, my daughter dear,
This day ye'se dine wi' me."
"Ae bit I canna eat, mither,
Nor ae drop can I drink,
Until I see my dear sister,
For lang for her I think."
When that these two sisters met,
She hail'd her courteously:
"Come ben, come ben, my sister dear,
This day ye'se dine wi' me."
"Ae bit I canna eat, sister,
Nor ae drop can I drink,
Until I see my dear husband,
For lang for him I think."
"O where are all my rangers bold
That I pay meat and fee,
To search the forest far an' wide,
And bring Akin to me?"
Out it speaks the wee little boy,--
"Na, na, this mauna be;
Without ye grant a free pardon,
I hope ye'll na him see."
"O here I grant a free pardon,
Well seal'd by my own han';
Ye may make search for young Akin,
As soon as ever you can."
They search'd the country wide and braid,
The forests far and near,
And found him into Elmond's-wood,
Tearing his yellow hair.
"Win up, win up, now young Akin,
Win up, and boun wi' me;
Were messengers come from the court;
The king wants you to see."
"O lat him take frae me my head,
Or hang me on a tree;
For since I've lost my dear lady,
Life's no pleasure to me."
"Your head will na be touch'd, Akin,
Nor hang'd upon a tree:
Your lady's in her father's court,
And all he wants is thee."
(_boun_, go.)
When he came in before the king,
Fell low down on his knee:
"Win up, win up now, young Akin,
This day ye'se dine wi' me."
But as they were at dinner set,
The boy asked a boon;
"I wish we were in the good church,
For to get christendoun.
"We hae lived in guid green wood
This is even years and ane;
But a this time since e'er I mind,
Was never a church within."
"Your asking's na sae great, my boy,
But granted it shall be;
This day to guid church ye shall gang,
And your mither shall gang you wi'."
When unto the guid church she came,
She at the door did stan;
She was sae sair sunk down wi' shame,
She couldna come farther ben.
Then out it speaks the parish priest,
And a sweet smile gae he;--
"Come ben, come ben, my lily flower,
Present your babes to me."
Charles, Vincent, Sam, and Dick,
And likewise James and John;
They call'd the eldest Young Akin,
Which was his father's name.
Then they staid in the royal court,
And liv'd wi' mirth and glee;
And when her father was deceas'd,
Heir of the crown was she.
BONNY ANNIE
|There was a rich lord, and he lived in Forfar,
He had a fair lady, and one only dochter.
O she was fair, O dear, she was bonny,
A ship's captain courted her to be his honey.
There came a ship's captain out ower the sea sailing,
He courted this young thing till he got her wi' bairn: --
"Ye'll steal your father's gowd, and your mother's money,
And I'll mak ye a lady in Ireland bonny."
She's stown her father's gowd and her mother's money,
But she was never a lady in Ireland bonny.
*****
"There's fey folk in our ship, she winna sail for me,
There's fey folk in our ship, she winna sail for me."
They've casten black bullets twice six and forty,
And ae the black bullet fell on bonny Annie.
"Ye'll tak me in your arms twa, lo, lift me canny,
Throw me out ower board, your ain dear Annie."
He has ta'en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her canny,
He has laid her on a bed of down, his ain dear Annie.
"What can a woman do, love, I'll do for ye;"
"Muckle can a woman do, ye canna do for me.--
Lay about, steer about, lay our ship canny,
Do all you can to save my dear Annie."
"I've laid about, steer'd about, laid about canny,
But all I can do, she winna sail for me.
Ye'll tak her in your arms twa, lo, lift her canny,
And throw her out ower board, your ain dear Annie."
He has ta'en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her canny,
He has thrown her out ower board, his ain dear Annie:
As the ship sailed, bonny Annie she swam,
And she was at Ireland as soon as them.
(_fey_, doomed. _canny_, carefully.)
He made his love a coffin of the gowd sae yellow,
And buried his bonny love doun in a sea valley.
THE LAIRD O' DRUM
[Illustration: 0185]
|The Laird o' Drum is a wooing gane,
It was on a morning early,
And he has fawn in wi' a bonny may,
A-shearing at her barley.
"My bonny may, my weel-faur'd may,
O will you fancy me, O;
And gae and be the Lady o' Drum,
And lat your shearing abee, O?"
(_fawn_, fallen.)
"It's I canna fancy thee, kind sir,
I winna fancy thee, O,
I winna gae and be Lady o' Drum,
And lat my shearing abee, O.
"But set your love on anither, kind sir,
Set it not on me, O,
For I am not fit to be your bride,
And your whore I'll never be, O.
"My father he is a shepherd mean,
Keeps sheep on yonder hill, O,
And ye may gae and speer at him,
For I am at his will, O."
Drum is to her father gane,
Keeping his sheep on yon hill, O;
And he has gotten his consent
That the may was at his will, O.
"But my dochter can neither read nor write,
She was ne er brought up at scheel, O;
But weel can she milk cow and ewe,
And mak a kebbuck weel, O.
"She'll win in your barn at bear-seed time,
Cast out your muck at Yule, O,
She'll saddle your steed in time o' need,
And draw off your boots hersel', O."
(_kebbuck_, cheese. _win_, go.)
"Have not I no clergymen?
Pay I no clergy fee, O?
Ill scheel her as I think fit,
And as I think weel to be, O.
[Illustration: 0187]
"I'll learn your lassie to read and write,
And I'll put her to the scheel, O;
Shell neither need to saddle my steed,
Nor draw off my boots hersel', O.
"But wha will bake my bridal bread,
Or brew my bridal ale, O;
And wha will welcome my bonny bride,
Is mair than I can tell, O."
Drum is to the hielands gane,
For to mak a' ready,
And a' the gentry round about,
Cried, "Yonder's Drum and his lady!
"Peggy Coutts is a very bonny bride,
And Drum is a wealthy laddy,
But he might hae chosen a higher match,
Than ony shepherd's lassie."
Then up bespak his brither John,
Says, "Ye've deen us mickle wrang, O;
Ye've married een below our degree,
A lake to a' our kin, O."
"Hold your tongue, my brither John,
I have deen you na wrang, O;
For I've married een to work and win,
And ye've married een to spend, O.
"The first time that I had a wife,
She was far abeen my degree, O;
I durst na come in her presence,
But wi' my hat upo' my knee, O.
(_lake_, reproach.)
"The first wife that I did wed,
She was far abeen my degree, O;
She wadna hae walk'd to the yetts o' Drum,
But the pearls abeen her bree, O.
"But an' she was ador'd for as much gold,
As Peggy's for beauty, O,
She might walk to the yetts o' Drum,
Amang geed company, O."
There war four and twenty gentlemen
Stood at the yetts o' Drum, O;
There was na ane amang them a'
That welcom'd his lady in, O.
He has tane her by the milk-white hand,
And led her in himsel', O,
And in thro' ha's, and in thro' bowers,--
"And ye're welcome, Lady o' Drum, O."
Thrice he kissed her cherry cheek,
And thrice her cherry chin, O;
And twenty times her comely mou',--
"And ye're welcome, Lady o' Drum, O.
"Ye sall be cook in my kitchen,
Butler in my ha', O;
Ye sall be lady in my command,
Whan I ride far awa, O."--
(_bree_, brow.)
"But I told ye afore we war wed,
I was ower low for thee, O;
But now we are wed, and in ae bed laid,
And ye maun be content wi' me, O.
"For an' I war dead, and ye war dead,
And baith in ae grave laid, O,
And ye and I war tane up again,
Wha could distan your moulds frae mine, O?"
THE DEATH OF QUEEN JANE
|Queen Jane, O! Queen Jane, O!
What a lady was she;
And she was in labour
Six weeks and a' day:
Queen Jane was in labour
For six weeks or more,
Till the women grew weary
And fain would give oer.
"O women, O women,
Good wives if ye be,
Go send for King Henry,
And bring him to me!"
(_distan_, distinguish.)
King Henry was sent for,
And to her he came.
"Dear lady! fair lady!
Your eyes they look dim."
King Henry came to her,
He came in all speed,
In a gown of red velvet
From heel to the head;
"King Henry, King Henry,
If kind you will be,
Send for a good doctor,
And let him come unto me!"
The doctor was sent for,
He came with all speed,
In a gown of black velvet
From heel to the head;
The doctor was sent for,
And to her he came.
"Dear lady! dear lady!
Your labour's in vain."
"Dear doctor! dear doctor!
Will you do this for me;
O open up my right side,
And save my baby."
Then out spake King Henry,
"That never can be;
I'd rather lose the branch than
The top of the tree."
The doctor gave a rich caudle,
The death-sleep slept she,
Then her right side was opened,
And the babe set free.
The babe it was christened,
And put out and nursed,
But the royal Queen Jane
She lay cold in the dust.
THE GARDENER
[Illustration: 0192]
|The gardener stands in his bower door,
Wi' a primrose in his hand;
And by there came a leal maiden,
As jimp as a willow wand;
And by there came a leal maiden,
As jimp as a willow wand.
"O lady can you fancy me,
For to be my bride;
Yese get a the flowers in my garden,
To be to you a weed.
"The lily white sail be your smock,
Becomes your body neat;
Your head sail be decked wi' gilly-flower,
And the primrose in your breast.
"Your gown sail be o' the Sweet William;
Your coat the camovine;
Your apron o' the sallads neat,
That taste baith sweet and fine.
"Your stockings sail be o' the broad kail-blade,
That is baith broad and lang;
Narrow, narrow, at the coot,
And broad, broad at the brawn.
"Your gloves sail be the marigold,
All glittering to your hand,
Weel spread ower wi' the blue blaewort,
That grows in corn-land."
"O fare ye well, young man,'' she says,
"Farewell and I bid adieu;
Sin ye've provided a weed for me
Amang the simmer flowers,
(_camovine_, camomile. _kail-blade_, leaf of colewort. _coot_, ankle. _brawn_, calf.)
Then I'll provide another for you,
Amang the winter-showers.
[Illustration: 0194]
"The new fallen snow to be your smock;
Becomes your body neat;
Your head sail be decked wi' the eastern wind,
And the cold rain on your breast."
JOHNNY SCOTT
|O Johnny was as brave a knight
As ever sail'd the sea,
An he's done him to the English court,
To serve for meat and fee.
He had na been in England
But yet a little while
Until the king's ae daughter
To Johnny proves wi' chil'.
O word's come to the king himsel'
In his chair where he sat
That his ae daughter was wi' bairn
To Jack, the Little Scott.
Gin this be true that I do hear,
As I trust well it be,
Ye put her into prison strong,
An' starve her till she die.
O Johnny's on to fair Scotland,
I wot, he went wi' speed,
And he has left the king's court,
I wot, good was his need.
O it fell once upon a day
That Johnny he thought lang;
An hes gane to the good green wood,
As fast as he could gang.
O where will I get a bonny boy,
To rin my errand soon;
That will rin into fair England,
An' haste him back again?
O up it starts a bonny boy,
Gold yellow was his hair,
I wish his mither mickle joy,
His bonny love mickle mair.
O here am I, a bonny boy,
Will rin your errand soon;
I will gang into fair England,
An' come right soon again.
O when he came to broken briggs
He bent his bow and swam,
An when he came to the green grass growing
He slaiked his shoon an' ran.
When he came to yon high castle,
He ran it round about;
An' there he saw the king's daughter
At the window looking out.
"O here's a sark o' silk, lady,
Your ain hand sew'd the sleeve,
You're bidden come to fair Scotland,
Speer nane o' your parents' leave.
"Ha, take this sark o' silk, lady,
Your ain hand sew'd the gare;
You're bidden come to good green wood,
Love Johnny waits you there."
She's turned her right and round about
The tear was in her ee:
"How can I come to my true-love
Except I had wings to flee?
"Here am I kept wi' bars and bolts,
Most grievous to behold;
My breast-plate's o' the sturdy steel,
Instead of the beaten gold.
(_slaiked,_ loosened, i.e. took off. _sark_, shirt.
gare, hem.
Johnny Scott ss'
"But take this purse, my bonny boy,
Ye well deserve a fee,
And bear this letter to my love,
An' tell him what you see."
Then quickly ran the bonny boy,
Again to Scotland fair,
An soon he reached Pitnachton's towrs,
An' soon found Johnny there.
He put the letter in his han,
An' told him what he saw,
But ere he half the letter read,
He loot the tears doun fa'.
O I will gae back to fair England,
Tho' death should me betide,
An I will relieve the damsel
That lay last by my side.
Then out it spake his father dear:
"My son, you are to blame;
An' gin you're catched on English ground,
I fear you'll ne'er win hame."
Then out it spake a valiant knight,
Johnny's best friend was he:
"I can command five hunder men,
An' I'll his surety be."
The firstin town that they came till,
They gar'd the bells be rung;
An' the nextin town that they came till,
They gar'd the mass be sung.
The thirdin town that they came till,
They gar'd the drums beat round,
The king but an' his nobles a'
Was startled at the sound.
When they came to the king's palace,
They rade it round about;
An' there they saw the king himsel',
At the window looking out.
"Is this the Duke o' Albany,
Or James, the Scottish king?
Or are ye some great foreign lord,
That's come a visiting?"
"I'm na the Duke of Albany,
Nor James, the Scottish king;
But I'm a valiant Scottish knight;
Pitnachton is my name."
"O if Pitnachton be your name,
As I trust well it be;
The morn, or I taste meat or drink,
You shall be hanged hi'."
Then out it spake the valiant knight,
That came brave Johnny wi':
"Behold five hunder bowmen bold,
Will die to set him free."
Then out it spake the king again,
An' a scornfu' laugh laugh he:
"I have an Italian i' my house,
Will fight you three by three."
"O grant me a boon," brave Johnny cried,
"Bring your Italian here;
Then if he fall beneath my sword,
I've won your daughter dear."
Then out it came, that Italian,
An' a curious ghost was he;
Upon the point o' Johnny's sword,
This Italian did die.
Out has he drawn his lang, lang bran',
Struck it across the plain:
"Is there any more o' your English dogs,
That you want to be slain?"
"A clerk, a clerk," the king then cried,
"To write her tocher free;"
"A priest, a priest," says love Johnny,
"To marry my love and me.
"I'm seeking nane o' your gold," he says,
"Nor of your silver clear;
I only seek your daughter fair,
Whose love hast cost her dear."
KEMP OWYNE
|Her mother died when she was young,
Which gave her cause to make great moan;
Her father married the worst woman
That ever lived in Christendom.
She served her with foot and hand,
In every thing that she could dee;
Till once, in an unlucky time,
She threw her in ower Craigy's sea.
Says, "Lie you there, dove Isabel,
And all my sorrows lie with thee;
Till Kemp Owyne come ower the sea,
And borrow you with kisses three,
Let all the world do what they will,
Oh borrowed shall you never be."
Her breath grew strang, her hair grew lang,
And twisted thrice about the tree,
And all the people, far and near,
Thought that a savage beast was she;
(_borrow,_ redeem.)
This news did come to Kemp Owyne,
Where he lived far beyond the sea.
He hasted him to Craigy's sea,
And on the savage beast look'd he;
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,
And twisted was about the tree,
And with a swing she came about:
"Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me."
"Here is a royal belt," she cried,
"That I have found in the green sea:
And while your body it is on,
Drawn shall your blood never be;
But if you touch me, tail or fin,
I vow my belt your death shall be."
He stepped in, gave her a kiss,
The royal belt he brought him wi';
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,
And twisted twice about the tree,
And with a swing she came about:
"Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me."
"Here is a royal ring," she said,
"That I have found in the green sea;
And while your finger it is on,
Drawn shall your blood never be;
But if you touch me, tail or fin,
I swear my ring your death shall be."
[Illustration: 0204]
He stepped in, gave her a kiss,
The royal ring he brought him wi';
Her breath was strang, her hair was lang,
And twisted aince around the tree,
And with a swing she came about:
"Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with me."
"Here is a royal brand," she said,
"That I have found in the green sea;
And while your body it is on,
Drawn shall your blood never be:
But if you touch me, tail or fin,
I swear my brand your death shall be."
He stepped in, gave her a kiss,
The royal brand he brought him wi';
Her breath was sweet, her hair grew short,
And twisted nane about the tree;
And smilingly she came about'
As fair a woman as fair could be.
THE WEARY COBLE O' CARGILL
|David Drummonds destiny,
Gude man o' appearance o' Cargill;
I wot his blude rins in the flude,
Sae sair against his parents' will.
She was the lass o' Balathy toun,
And he the butler o' Stobhall;
And mony a time she walked late,
To bore the coble o' Cargill.
His bed was made in Kercock ha',
Of gude clean sheets and of the hay;
He wadna rest ae night therein,
But on the proud waters he wad gae.
His bed was made in Balathy toun,
Of the clean sheets and of the strae;
But I wot it was far better made,
Into the bottom o' bonny Tay.
She bored the coble in seven parts,
I wot her heart might hae been fu' sair;
For there she got the bonny lad lost,
Wi' the curly locks and the yellow hair.
He put his foot into the boat,
He little thought o' ony ill:
But before that he was mid-waters,
The weary coble began to fill.
"Woe be to the lass o' Balathy toun,
I wot an ill death may she die;
For she bored the coble in seven parts,
And let the waters perish me!
(_strae_, straw.)
"O help, O help I can get nane,
Nae help o' man can to me come!"
This was about his dying words,
When he was choked up to the chin.
"Gae tell my father and my mother,
It was naebody did me this ill;
I was a-going my ain errands,
Lost at the coble o' bonny Cargill."
She bored the boat in seven parts,
I wot she bored it wi' gude will;
And there they got the bonny lad's corpse,
In the kirk-shot o' bonny Cargill.
O a' the keys of bonny Stobha',
I wot they at his belt did hing;
But a the keys of bonny Stobha,
They now lie low into the stream.
A braver page into his age
Ne er set a foot upon the plain;
His' father to his mother said,
"O sae soon as we've wanted him!"
I wot they had mair love than this,
When they were young and at the school;
But for his sake she walked late,
And bored the coble o' bonny Cargill.
(_shot_, plot of land.)
"There's ne'er a clean sark gae on my back,
Nor yet a kame gae in my hair;
There's neither coal nor candle light
Shall shine in my bower for ever mair.
"At kirk nor market I'se ne'er be at,
Nor yet a blithe blink in my ee;
There's ne'er a ane shall say to another,
That's the lassie gar'd the young man die."
Between the yetts o' bonny Stobha',
And the kirkstyle o' bonny Cargill,
There is mony a man and mother's son
That was at my love's burial.
JOHN THOMSON AND THE TURK
|John Thomson fought against the Turks
Three years, intill a far country;
And all that time, and something mair,
Was absent from his gay lady.
But it fell aince upon a time,
As this young chieftain sat alane,
He spied his lady in rich array,
As she walk'd ower a rural plain.
"What brought ye here, my lady gay,
So far awa' from your ain country?
I've thought lang, and very lang,
And all for your fair face to see."
For some days she did with him stay,
Till it fell aince upon a day,
"Fareweel, for a time," she said,
"For now I must boun hame away."
He's gi en to her a jewel fine,
Was set with pearl and precious stane;
Says, "My love, beware of these savages bold
That's in your way as ye gang hame.
"Ye'll take the road, my lady fair,
That leads you fair across the lea:
That keeps you from wild Hind Soldan,
And likewise from base Violentrie."
Wi' heavy heart they twa did part,
She mintet as she would gae hame;
Hind Soldan by the Greeks was slain,
But to base Violentrie she's gane.
When a twelvemonth had expired,
John Thomson he thought wondrous lang,
And he has written a braid letter,
And sealed it weel wi' his ain hand.
(_mintet_, started off.)
He sent it with a small vessel
That there was quickly ga en to sea;
And sent it on to fair Scotland,
To see about his gay lady.
But the answer he received again,--
The lines did grieve his heart right sair:
Nane of her friends there had her seen,
For a twelvemonth and something mair.
Then he put on a palmers weed,
And took a pike-staff in his hand;
To Violentrie's castle he hied;
But slowly, slowly he did gang.
When within the hall he came,
He jooked and couch'd out ower his tree:
"If ye be lady of this hall,
Some of your good bountith gie me."
"What news, what news, palmer," she said,
"And from what country came ye?"
"I'm lately come from Grecian plains,
Where lies some of the Scots army."