Malbrouck has gone a-fighting, @3Mironton, mironton, mirontaine,@1 Malbrouck has gone a-fighting But when will he return? Perchance he'll come at Easter Or else at Trinity Term. But Trinity Term is over And Malbrouck comes not yet. My Lady climbs her watch tower As high as she can get. She sees her page approaching All clad in sable hue: "Ah page, brave page, what tidings From my true lord bring you?" "The news I bring, fair Lady, Will make your tears run down; "Put off your rose-red dress so fine And doff your satin gown. "Monsieur Malbrouck is dead, alas! And buried too, for aye; "I saw four officers who bore His mighty corse away. "One bore his cuirass, and his friend His shield of iron wrought; "The third his mighty sabre bore, And the fourth—he carried nought. "And at the corners of his tomb They planted rose-marie; "And from their tops the nightingale Rings out her carol free. "We saw, above the laurels, His soul fly forth amain; "And each one fell upon his face And then rose up again. "And so we sang the glories For which great Malbrouck bled; "And when the whole was ended Each one went off to bed. "I say no more, my Lady, @3Mironton, mironton, mirontaine,@1 I say no more, my Lady, As nought more can be said." |