" Give me my white shirt, Mother, pray,
I will go to mass to-day. "

" You are not going to mass, I trow,
To visit your sweetheart, son, you go. "

" Mother, you speak so cruelly!
What is it that you want with me? "

" I want the heart of your promised bride,
And I wish that it were crucified. "

" Mother, how much money will you pay
To me, if I bring it to you, say? "

" A hundred ecus I will give;
They are in my purse there, as I live. "

" A hundred ecus is pay but small
For killing what one loves best of all. "

" Enough, now go and see your dear,
And bring me her heart when you come back here. "

He has slung his sharp sword at his side,
And gone to visit his promised bride.

He knocks at the door with a noisy din,
That his sweetheart may let him in.

" Who is it knocking at my door,
So loud that I can sleep no more? "

" Your tender-hearted love is here
To visit you, my pretty dear. "

He takes her hand so white and slim,
And leads her out to walk with him.

When they 're under the trees so thick and high:
" Come now, my dear, for you must die! "

" O my lover, have you no fear?
Have you the heart to kill me here? "

" Afraid? Now who 's afraid? Not I!
Come, my dear, for you must die! "

The youth has drawn the sword at his side,
And stabbed the heart of his promised bride.


" Here, take it! O my cruel mother!
'T is the thing you wanted, and no other, "

" 'T is not the heart of your love at all,
No, it 's the heart of some animal. "

" It is surely her heart and no other,
'T is not the heart of a beast, my mother.

" A youth who has murdered his sweetheart,
From his own country must depart.

" Give me my white shirt, Mother, pray,
And give me also my mantle gray,

" For to the war, now, I will go;
Or to some country I do not know. "

He has not walked across the floor,
When the soldiers enter at the door.

They take him and lead him out to die;
Upon the scaffold they lift him high.