O FOR my ain king, quo gude Wallace,
The rightfu king o’ fair Scotland;
Between me and my Sovereign Blude
I think I see some ill seed sawn.------

Wallace out over yon river he lap,
And he has lighted low down on yon plain,
And he was aware of a gay ladie,
As she was at the well washing.------

What tydins, what tydins, fair lady, he says,
What tydins hast thou to tell unto me;
What tydins, what tydins, fair lady, he says,
What tydins hae ye in the South Countrie.----

Low down in yon wee Ostler house,
There is fyfteen Englishmen,
And they are seekin for gude Wallace,
It 's him to take and him to hang.----

There 's nocht in my purse, quo gude Wallace,
There 's nocht, not even a bare pennie;
But I will down to yon wee Ostler house
Thir fyfteen Englishmen to see.------

And when he cam in to yon wee Ostler house,
He bad benedicite be there;
The Englishmen at the table sat
The wine-fac'd captain at him did stare.

Where was ye born, auld crookit Carl,
Where was ye born, in what countrie;
I am a true Scot born and bred,
And an auld, crookit carl just sic as ye see.---

I wad gie fyfteen shillings to onie crookit carl,
To onie crookit carl just sic as ye,
If ye will get me gude Wallace,
For he is the man I wad very fain see.--------

He hit the proud Captain alang the chaft-blade,
That never a bit o' meat he ate mair;
And he sticket the rest at the table where they sat,
And he left them a' lyin sprawlin there.------

Get up, get up, gudewife, he says,
And get to me some dinner in haste;
For it will soon be three lang days
Sin I a bit o' meat did taste.---

The dinner was na weel readie,
Nor was it on the table set,
Till other fyfteen Englishmen
Were a' lighted about the yett.--------

Come out, come out now, gude Wallace,
This is the day that thou maun die;
I lippen nae sae little to God, he says,
Altho' I be but ill wordie.------

The gudewife had an auld gudeman,
By gude Wallace he stiffly stood,
Till ten o' the fyfteen Englishmen
Before the door lay in their blude.----

The other five to the greenwood ran,
And he hang'd these five upon a grain:
And on the morn wi' his merry men a'
He sat at dine in Lochmaben town.----