6 'You're welcome, daughter dear,
to thy castle and thy bowers;'
'I thank you kindly, mother,
I hope they'll soon be yours.'
7 She had not been in Wallington
three quarters and a day,
Till upon the ground she could not walk,
she was a weary prey.
8 She had not been in Wallington
three quarters and a night,
Till on the ground she coud not walk,
she was a weary wight.
9 'Is there neer a boy in this town,
who'll win hose and shun,
That will run to fair Pudlington,
and bid my mother come?'
10 Up then spake a little boy,
near unto a-kin;
'Full oft I have your errands gone,
but now I will it run.'
11 Then she calld her waiting-maid
to bring up bread and wine:
'Eat and drink, my bonny boy,
thou'll neer eat more of mine.
12 'Give my respects to my mother,
[as] she sits in her chair of stone,
And ask her how she likes the news,
of seven to have but one.
13 ['Give my respects to my mother,
as she sits in her chair of oak,
And bid her come to my sickening,
or my merry lake-wake.]
14 'Give my love to my brother
William, Ralph, and John,
And to my sister Betty fair,
and to her white as bone.
15 'And bid her keep her maidenhead,
be sure make much on 't,
For if eer she come in man's bed,
the same gate will she gang.'