"Where's the maids of the hall?"
Says the Lonkin;
"They're at the well washing,"
Says Orange to him.30
"Where's the ladies of the hall?"
Says the Lonkin;
"They're up in their chambers,"
Says Orange to him.
"How shall we get them down?"35
Says the Lonkin;
"Prick the babe in the cradle,"
Says Orange to him.
"Rock well my cradle,
And bee-ba my son;40
Ye shall have a new gown
When the lord he comes home."
Still she did prick it,
And bee-ba she cried;
"Come down, dearest mistress,45
And still your own child."
"O still my child, Orange,
Still him with a bell;"
"I can't still him, ladie,
Till you come down yoursell."50
* * * * * *
"Hold the gold basin,
For your heart's blood to run in,"
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
"To hold the gold basin,
It grieves me full sore;
Oh kill me, dear Lonkin,55
And let my mother go."