Note 356 — Chapter IV
Reading edition
This is the Scotch version, with the variant of Lord Randal:
What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man? I gat eels boiled in broo; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down. What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son? What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man? O, they swelled and they died; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.