"Your armour gude ye maunna shaw,
Nor ance appear like men o weir;
As country lads be all arrayd,
Wi branks and brecham on ilk mare."
Sae now a' their horses are shod the wrang way,
And Hobie has mounted his grey sae fine,
Jock his lively bay, Wat's on his white horse behind,
And on they rode for the water o Tyne.
At the Cholerford they a' light down,
And there, wi the help o the light o the moon,
A tree they cut, wi fifteen naggs upon each side,
To climb up the wall of Newcastle toun.
But when they came to Newcastle toun,
And were alighted at the wa,
They fand their tree three ells oer laigh,
They fand their stick baith short aid sma.
Then up and spake the Laird's ain Jock,
"There's naething for't; the gates we maun force."
But when they cam the gate unto,
A proud porter withstood baith men and horse.
His neck in twa I wat they hae wrung;
Wi foot or hand he neer play'd paw;
His life and his keys at anes they hae taen,
And cast his body ahind the wa.
Now soon they reached Newcastle jail,
And to the prisner thus they call:
"Sleips thou, wakes thou, Jock o the Side,
Or is thou wearied o thy thrall?"
Jock answers thus, wi dolefu tone:
"Aft, aft I wake, I seldom sleip;
But wha's this kens my name sae weel,
And thus to hear my waes does seek?"
Then up and spake the good Laird's Jock:
"Neer fear ye now, my billie," quo he;
"For here's the Laird's Jock, the Laird's Wat,
And Hobie Noble, come to set thee free."
"Oh, had thy tongue, and speak nae mair,
And o thy talk now let me be!
For if a' Liddesdale were here the night,
The morn's the day that I maun die.
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