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A holiday, a holiday, and the first one of the year |
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Lord Arlen's wife came into the church, |
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the gospel for to hear. |
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And when the meeting it was done, she cast her eyes about |
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And there she saw little Matty Groves, walking in the crowd |
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"Come home with me, little Matty Groves, come home with me tonight |
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Come home with me, little Matty Groves, and sleep with me till light" |
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"Oh, I can't come home, I won't come home and sleep with you tonight |
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By the rings on your fingers I can tell you are my master's wife" |
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"But if I am Lord Arlen 's wife, Lord Arlen's not at home |
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He is out in the far cornfields bringing the yearlings home" |
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And a servant who was standing by and hearing what was said |
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He swore Lord Arlen he would know before the sun would set |
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And in his hurry to carry the news, he bent his breast and ran |
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And when he came to the broad millstream, he took off his shoes and he swam |
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Little Matty Groves, he lay down and took a little sleep |
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When he awoke, Lord Arlen was standing at his feet |
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Saying "How do you like my feather bed and how do you like my sheets |
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How do you like my lady who lies in your arms asleep?" |
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"Oh, well I like your feather bed and well I like your sheets |
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But better I like your lady gay who lies in my arms asleep" |
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"Well, get up, get up," Lord Arlen cried, "get up as quick as you can |
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It'll never be said in fair England that I slew a naked man" |
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"Oh, I can't get up, I won't get up, I can't get up for my life |
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For you have two long beaten swords and I not a pocket knife" |
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"Well it's true I have two beaten swords and they cost me deep in the purse |
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But you will have the better of them and I will have the worse |
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And you will strike the very first blow and strike it like a man |
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I will strike the very next blow and I'll kill you if I can" |
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So Matty struck the very first blow and he hurt Lord Arlen sore |
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Lord Arlen struck the very next blow and Matty struck no more |
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And then Lord Arlen took his wife and he sat her on his knee |
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Saying "Who do you like the best of us, Matty Groves or me?" |
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And then up spoke his own dear wife, never heard to speak so free |
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"I'd rather a kiss from dead Matty's lips than you or your finery" |
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Lord Arlen he jumped up and loudly he did bawl |
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He struck his wife right through the heart and pinned her against the wall |
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"A grave, a grave," Lord Arlen cried, "to put these lovers in |
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But bury my lady at the top for she was of noble kin" |
