fe to Gilnockie.

"Make kinnen[86] and capon ready, then,
And venison in great plentie;
We'll welcum here our royal King;
I hope he'll dine at Gilnockie!"

They ran their horse on the Langholme howm,
And brak their spears wi' mickle main;
The ladies lukit frae their lofty windows--
"God bring our men weel hame again!"

When Johnie cam before the King,
Wi' a' his men sae brave to see,
The King he movit his bonnet to him;
He ween'd he was a King as well as he.

According to the balladist, it would seem that Armstrong's ruin was
brought about by the princely style in which he appeared before his
sovereign. The King, highly displeased, turned away his head, and
exclaimed--

"Away, away, thou traitor strang!
Out o' my sight soon mayst thou be!
I grantit never a traitor's life,
And now I'll not begin wi' thee."

This unexpected outburst of indignation led Armstrong at once to realise
the perilous position in which he found himself placed. He now felt that,
if his life was to be spared, he must use every means in his power to
move the King to clemency. Consequently he promised to give him
"four-and-twenty milk white steeds," with as much good English gold "as
four of their braid backs dow[87] bear;" "four-and-twenty ganging mills,"
and "four-and-twenty sisters' sons" to fight for him; but all these
tempting offers were refused with disdain. As a last resource, he said--

"Grant me my life, my liege, my King!
And a brave gift I'll gie to thee--
All between here and Newcastle town
Sall pay their yeirly rent to thee."

This was no idle boast. So powerful had Armstrong become that, it is said,
he levied black-mail--(which is only another form of the word
"_black-meal_," so-called from the conditions under which it was
exacted)--over the greater part of Northumberland. But even the prospect
of increasing his revenue by accepting this tribute was not sufficient to
turn the King aside from his purpose. He was bent on Armstrong's
destruction, a fact which now became painfully evident to the eloquent and
generous suppliant. Enraged at the baseness of the King, he turned upon
him and gave vent to the pent up feelings of his heart--

"Ye lied, ye lied, now King," he says,
"Altho' a King and Prince ye be!
For I've luved naething in my life,
I weel dare say it, but honesty--

"Save a fat horse, and fair woman,
Twa bonny dogs to kill a deir,