| |
| IT 1 befell at Martynmas, | |
| When wether waxed colde, | |
| Captaine Care said to his men, | |
| We must go take a holde. | |
| |
| Sycke, sike, and to-towe sike, | 5 |
| And sike and like to die: | |
| And sikest nighte that ever I abode, | |
| God lord have mercy on me! | |
| |
| ‘Haille, master, and wether you will, | |
| And wether ye like it best;’ | 10 |
| ‘To the castle of Crecrynbroghe, | |
| And there we will take our restè.’ | |
| |
| ‘I knowe wher ia a gay castle, | |
| Is builded of lyme and stone; | |
| Within their ia a gay ladie, | 15 |
| Her lord is riden and gone.’ | |
| |
| The ladie she lend on her castle-walle, | |
| She loked upp and downe; | |
| There was she ware of an host of men, | |
| Come riding to the towne. | 20 |
| |
| ‘Se yow, my meri men all, | |
| And se yow what I see? | |
| Yonder I see an host of men, | |
| I muse who they shold bee.’ | |
| |
| She thought he had ben her wed lord, | 25 |
| As he comd riding home; | |
| Then was it traitur Captaine Care | |
| The lord of Ester-towne. | |
| |
| They wer no soner at supper sett, | |
| Then after said the grace, | 30 |
| Or Captaine Care and all his men | |
| Wer lighte aboute the place. | |
| |
| ‘Gyve over thi howsse, thou lady gay, | |
| And I will make the a bande; | |
| To-night thou shall ly within my armes, | 35 |
| To-morrowe thou shall ere my lande.’ | |
| |
| Then bespacke the eldest sonne, | |
| That was both whitt and redde: | |
| ‘O mother dere, geve over your howsse, | |
| Or elles we shalbe deade.’ | 40 |
| |
| ‘I will not geve over my hous,’ she saith, | |
| ‘Not for feare of my lyffe; | |
| It shalbe talked throughout the land, | |
| The slaughter of a wyffe. | |
| |
| ‘Fetch me my pestilett, | 45 |
| And charge me my gonne, | |
| That I may shott at this bloddy butcher, | |
| The lord of Easter-towne.’ | |
| |
| Styfly upon her wall she stode, | |
| And lett the pellettes flee; | 50 |
| But then she myst the blody bucher, | |
| And she slew other three. | |
| |
| ‘I will not geve over my hous,’ she saithe, | |
| Netheir for lord nor lowne; | |
| Nor yet for traitur Captaine Care, | 55 |
| The lord of Easter-towne. | |
| |
| ‘I desire of Captaine Care, | |
| And all his bloddye band, | |
| That he would save my eldest sonne, | |
| The eare of all my lande.’ | 60 |
| |
| ‘Lap him in a shete,’ he sayth, | |
| ‘And let him downe to me, | |
| And I shall take him inmy armes, | |
| His waran shall I be.’ | |
| |
| The captyne sayd unto him selfe; | 65 |
| Wyth sped, before the rest, | |
| He cut his tonge out of his head, | |
| His hart out of his brest. | |
| |
| He lapt them in a hankerchef, | |
| And knet it of knotes three, | 70 |
| And cast them over the castell-wall, | |
| At that gay layde. | |
| |
| ‘Fye upon the, Captaine Care, | |
| And all thy bloddy band! | |
| For thou hast slayne my eldest sonne, | 75 |
| The ayre of all my land.’ | |
| |
| Then bespake the youngest sonne, | |
| That sat on the nurse’s knee, | |
| Syath, ‘Mother gay, geve over your house; | |
| For the smoake it smoothers me.’ | 80 |
| |
| Out then spake the Lady Magaret, | |
| As she stood on the stair; | |
| The fire was at her goud garters, | |
| The lowe was at her hair. | |
| |
| ‘I wold geve my gold,’ she saith, | 85 |
| ‘And so I wolde my ffee, | |
| For a blaste of the westryn wind, | |
| To dryve the smoke from thee. | |
| |
| ‘Fy upon thee, John Hamleton, | |
| That ever I paid hyre! | 90 |
| For thou hast broken my castle-wall, | |
| And kyndled in the ffyre.’ | |
| |
| The lady gate to her close parler, | |
| The fire fell aboute her head; | |
| She toke up her children two, | 95 |
| Seth, ‘Babes, we are all dead.’ | |
| |
| Then bespake the hye steward, | |
| That is of hye degree; | |
| Saith, ‘Ladie gay, you are in close, | |
| Wether ye fighte or flee.’ | 100 |
| |
| Lord Hamleton dremd in his dream. | |
| In Carvall where he laye, | |
| His halle were all of fyre, | |
| His ladie slanye or daye. | |
| |
| ‘Busk and bowne, 2 my mery men all, | 105 |
| Even and go ye with me; | |
| For I dremd that my hall was on fyre, | |
| My lady slayne or day.’ | |
| |
| He buskt him and bownd hym, | |
| And like a worthi knighte; | 110 |
| And when he saw his hall burning, | |
| His harte was no dele lighte. | |
| |
| He sett a trumpet till his mouth, | |
| He blew as it plesd his grace; | |
| Twenty score of Hamletons | 115 |
| Was light aboute the place. | |
| |
| ‘Had I knowne as much yesternighte | |
| As I do to-daye, | |
| Captaine Care and all his men | |
| Should not have gone so quite. | 120 |
| |
| ‘Fye upon the, Captaine Care, | |
| And all thy blody bande! | |
| Thou hast slain my lady gay, | |
| More wurth than all thy lande. | |
| |
| ‘If thou had ought eny ill will,’ he saith, | 125 |
| ‘Thou shoulde have taken my lyffe, | |
| And have saved my children thre, | |
| All and my lovesome wyffe.’ | |
