It befell at Martynmas
When wether waxed colde,
Captaine Care said to his men,
We must go take a holde.
Syck, sike, and to-towe sike,
And sike, and like to die;
The sikest nighte that euer I abode,
God Lord haue mercy on me!
Haille, master, and wether you will,
And wether ye like it best;
To the castle of Crecrynbroghe
And there we will take our reste.
I knowe wher is a gay castle,
Is builded of lyme and stone;
Within their is a gay ladie,
Her lord is riden and gone.
The ladie she lend on her castle-walle,
She loked vpp and downe;
There was she ware of an host of men,
Come riding to the towne.
Se yow, my meri men all,
And se yow what I see?
Yonder I see an host of men,
I muse who they bee.
She thought he had been her wed lord,
As he comd riding home;
Then was it traitur Captain Care,
The lord of Ester-towne.
They wer no soner at supper sett,
Then after said the grace,
Or Captaine Care and all his men
Wer lighte aboute the place.
Gyue ouer thi howsse, thou lady gay,
And I will make the a bande;
To-nighte thou shall ly within my armes,
To-morrowe thou shall ere my lande.
Then bespacke the eldest sonne,
That was both whitt and redde:
O mother dere, geue ouer your howsse,
Or elles we shalbe deade.
I will not geue ouer my hous, she saithe,
Not for feare of my lyffe;
It shalbe talked throughout the land,
The slaughter of a wyffe.
Fetch me my pestilett,
And charge be my gonne,
That I may shott at yonder bloddy-butcher
The lord of Ester-towne.
Styffly vpon her wall she stode,
And lett the pallettes flee;
But then she myst the blody butcher
And she slew other three.
I will not geue ouer my hous, she saithe,
Neither for lord nor lowne;
Nor yet for traitour Captain Care,
The lord of Ester-towne.
I desire of Captain Care,
And all his bloddye band,
That he would saue my eldest sonne,
The eare of all my lande.
Lap him in a shete, he sayth,
And let him down to me,
And I shall take him in my armes,
His waran shall I be.
The captayne sayd unto him selfe:
Wyth sped, before the rest,
He cut his tongue out of his head,
His hart out of his brest.
He lapt them in a handkerchef,
And knet it of knotes three,
And cast them ouer the castell-wall
At that gay ladye.
Fye vpon the, Captain Care,
And all thy bloddy band!
For thou hast slayne my eldest sonne,
The ayre of all my land.
Then bespake the youngest sonne,
That sat on the nurses knee,
Sayth, Mother gay, geue ouer your house;
It smoldereth me.
I woud geue my gold, she saith,
And so I wolde my ffee,
For a blaste of the westryn wind,
To dryue the smoke from thee.
Fy vpon the, John Hamleton,
That euer I paid the hyre!
For thou hast broken my castel-wall
And kyndled in the ffyre.
The lady gate to her close parler,
The fire fell aboute her head;
She toke up her children thre,
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.
Lord Hamleton dremd in his dream,
In Caruall where he laye,
His halle were all of fyre,
His ladie slayne or daye.
Busk and bowne, my mery men all,
Even and go ye with me;
For I dremd that my haal was on fyre,
My lady slayne or day.
He buskt him and bownd hym,
And like a worthi knighte;
And when he saw his hall burning,
His harte was no dele lighte.
He sett a trumpett till his mouth,
He blew as it plesd his grace;
Twent score of Hamlentons
Was light aboute the place.
Had I knowne as much yesternighte
As I do to-daye,
Captain Care and all his men
Should not haue gone so quite.
Fye vpon the, Captaine Care,
And all thy blody bande!
Thous haste slayne my lady gay
More wurth then all thy lande.
If thou had ought eny ill will, he saith,
Thou shoulde haue taken my lyffe,
And haue saved my children three,
All and my louesome wyffe.
When wether waxed colde,
Captaine Care said to his men,
We must go take a holde.
Syck, sike, and to-towe sike,
And sike, and like to die;
The sikest nighte that euer I abode,
God Lord haue mercy on me!
Haille, master, and wether you will,
And wether ye like it best;
To the castle of Crecrynbroghe
And there we will take our reste.
I knowe wher is a gay castle,
Is builded of lyme and stone;
Within their is a gay ladie,
Her lord is riden and gone.
The ladie she lend on her castle-walle,
She loked vpp and downe;
There was she ware of an host of men,
Come riding to the towne.
Se yow, my meri men all,
And se yow what I see?
Yonder I see an host of men,
I muse who they bee.
She thought he had been her wed lord,
As he comd riding home;
Then was it traitur Captain Care,
The lord of Ester-towne.
They wer no soner at supper sett,
Then after said the grace,
Or Captaine Care and all his men
Wer lighte aboute the place.
Gyue ouer thi howsse, thou lady gay,
And I will make the a bande;
To-nighte thou shall ly within my armes,
To-morrowe thou shall ere my lande.
Then bespacke the eldest sonne,
That was both whitt and redde:
O mother dere, geue ouer your howsse,
Or elles we shalbe deade.
I will not geue ouer my hous, she saithe,
Not for feare of my lyffe;
It shalbe talked throughout the land,
The slaughter of a wyffe.
Fetch me my pestilett,
And charge be my gonne,
That I may shott at yonder bloddy-butcher
The lord of Ester-towne.
Styffly vpon her wall she stode,
And lett the pallettes flee;
But then she myst the blody butcher
And she slew other three.
I will not geue ouer my hous, she saithe,
Neither for lord nor lowne;
Nor yet for traitour Captain Care,
The lord of Ester-towne.
I desire of Captain Care,
And all his bloddye band,
That he would saue my eldest sonne,
The eare of all my lande.
Lap him in a shete, he sayth,
And let him down to me,
And I shall take him in my armes,
His waran shall I be.
The captayne sayd unto him selfe:
Wyth sped, before the rest,
He cut his tongue out of his head,
His hart out of his brest.
He lapt them in a handkerchef,
And knet it of knotes three,
And cast them ouer the castell-wall
At that gay ladye.
Fye vpon the, Captain Care,
And all thy bloddy band!
For thou hast slayne my eldest sonne,
The ayre of all my land.
Then bespake the youngest sonne,
That sat on the nurses knee,
Sayth, Mother gay, geue ouer your house;
It smoldereth me.
I woud geue my gold, she saith,
And so I wolde my ffee,
For a blaste of the westryn wind,
To dryue the smoke from thee.
Fy vpon the, John Hamleton,
That euer I paid the hyre!
For thou hast broken my castel-wall
And kyndled in the ffyre.
The lady gate to her close parler,
The fire fell aboute her head;
She toke up her children thre,
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.
Lord Hamleton dremd in his dream,
In Caruall where he laye,
His halle were all of fyre,
His ladie slayne or daye.
Busk and bowne, my mery men all,
Even and go ye with me;
For I dremd that my haal was on fyre,
My lady slayne or day.
He buskt him and bownd hym,
And like a worthi knighte;
And when he saw his hall burning,
His harte was no dele lighte.
He sett a trumpett till his mouth,
He blew as it plesd his grace;
Twent score of Hamlentons
Was light aboute the place.
Had I knowne as much yesternighte
As I do to-daye,
Captain Care and all his men
Should not haue gone so quite.
Fye vpon the, Captaine Care,
And all thy blody bande!
Thous haste slayne my lady gay
More wurth then all thy lande.
If thou had ought eny ill will, he saith,
Thou shoulde haue taken my lyffe,
And haue saved my children three,
All and my louesome wyffe.
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