'Prepare the wedding feast, invite the guests, and then haste you to meet me at St. Mary's Church, for there, ere long, will you find me.
'Fly, gay goshawk, fly and carry with you my message to Lord William.'
And the bird flew o'er hill and dale until once again he reached the grey northern castle in which his master dwelt. And he saw his master's eye grow glad, his pale cheek glow as he listened to the message, as he held the tokens of his own true love.
Then the lady, left alone, closed her lattice window and went up to her own room followed by her maidens. Here she began to moan and cry as though she were in great pain, or seized by sudden illness. So ill she seemed that those who watched her feared that she would die.
'My father!' moaned the lady, 'tell my father that I am ill; bid him come to me without delay.'
Up to her room hastened her father, and sorely did he grieve when he saw that his daughter was so ill.
'Father, dear father,' she cried, holding his strong hand in her pale white one, 'grant me a boon ere I die.'
'An you ask not for the lord who lives in the cold north country, my daughter, you may ask for what you will, and it shall be granted.'
'Promise me, then,' said his daughter, 'that though I die here in the sunny South, you will carry me when I am dead to the cold grey North.
'And at the first church to which we come, tarry, that a mass may be said for my soul. At the second let me rest until the bells be tolled slow and solemn. When you come to the third church, which is named St. Mary's, grant that from thence you will not bear me until the night shades fall.'