She styfly stod on her castle-wall,45
And lett the pellettes flee,
She myst the blody bucher,
And slew other three.
"I will not geve over my hous," she saithe,
"Netheir for lord nor lowne,50
Nor yet for traitour Captaine Care,
The lord of Easter-towne.
"I desire of Captaine Care,
And all his bloddye band,
That he would save my eldest sonne,55
The eare of all my lande."
"Lap him in a shete," he sayth,
"And let him downe to me,
And I shall take him in my armes,
The captayne sayd unto himselfe,
Wyth sped before the rest;
He cut his tonge out of his head,
His hart out of his brest.
He lapt them in a handerchef,65
And knet it of knotes three,
And cast them over the castell-wall
At that gay ladye.
"Fye upon thee, Captaine Care,
And all thy bloddy band,70
For thou hast slayne my eldest sonne,
The ayre of all my land."
Then bespake the yongest sonn,
That sat on the nurses knee,
Sayth, "Mother gay, geve ower your house,75
[The smoke] it smoldereth me."
"I wold geve my gold," she saith,
"And so I wolde my fee,
For a blaste of the wesleyn wind
To dryve the smoke from thee.80