Malbrouck has gone a-fighting,
Mironton. mironton, mirontaine, Malbrouck has gone a-fighting, But when will he return?
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? "
11 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 naught.
"And at the corners of his tomb They planted rosemarie;
"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.
