A holiday, a holiday, The first one of the year Lord Arnold's wife came into the church, The gospel for to hear And when the meeting it was done, She cast her eyes about And there she saw little Matty Groves Walking in the crowd "Come home with me, little Matty Groves Come home with me tonight Come home with me, little Matty Groves And sleep with me till light!" "Oh I can't come home and I won't go home And sleep with you tonight By the rings on your fingers I can see That you are my master's wife." And what if I am Lord Arnold's wife For he is not at home He is out in the far cornfields Bringing the yearlings home So little Matty Groves, he lay down And took a little sleep When he awoke Lord Arnold He was standing by his feet Saying, "How do you like my feather bed And how do you like my sheets? How do you like my lady wife Who lies in your arms asleep?" Oh well, I like your feather bed Better I like your sheets Best of all I like your lady gay Who lies in my arms asleep "Get up. get up", Lord Arnold cried, Get up as quick as you can Let it never be said in fair England That I slew a naked man" "Oh I won't get up, and I won't get up I can't get up for my life For you have two long beaten swords And I not a pocket knife" "Well it's true I have two beaten swords And they cost me deep in the purse But you will have the better of them And I will have the worse" So Matty struck the very first blow And he hurt Lord Arnold sore Lord Arnold struck the very next blow And Matty struck the floor And then he took his own dear wife And sat her down on his knee Saying, "who do you like the best of us now Your Matty Groves or me?" And then spoke up his own dear wife Never heard her speak so free "I'd rather a kiss from dead Matty's lips Than you or your finery" And then Lord Arnold he jumped up And loudly did he bawl He struck his wife right through the heart And he pinned her up to the wall "Oh, a grave, a grave", Lord Arnold cried To put these lovers in Won't you bury my lady at the top For she was a noble kin.