Luyện nghe bài hát Prince Heathen

Prince
Margaret sat in a tower high
And she's as pale as a milk swan
When she saw a on the plain
betwixt her and the sun.
"Oh, mother, is it a
Or a of ravens in the air,
Or a black army with a silver
And a ragged man them there?"
"Oh, daughter, go run in little yard
And bid to your flowers so gay.
For yonder Prince Heathen's men
And I fear they're coming to you away."
In there Prince Heathen then, saying
"Good day to you.
And where will l that sweet little bride
With her hands as soft as dew?"
Young Margaret locked her door
But his men soon the hinges spring
And in come Prince Heathen then
And to her a gay gold ring.
Back at him the she flung
She cries "Of you I no fear.
I'll call you wolf-hound seven
Rather then call you dear."
He swore then, by her hair,
He'd make her weep and him dear.
taken her in his two dark arms,
And laid her on the stone floor.
And he set her free again,
Her maidenhead from her ta'en:
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
cast her down in a cabin of stone
Where forty locks did thereto.
"Ha ha, bonny maid, you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"Come, give my of the salt, salt meat,
And vinegar for her brew,
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
Heathen down from the mountains came
Where he'd been hunting with his men.
He came unto fair young maid
All in the prison she is laid.
"A drink, a drink, Heathen" she said.
"Even if it's the muddy well pool."
"Never a drink! you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for thee."
taken her by her yellow hair,
And it to his horse's tail.
He's her through the bushes and briars
That so thick all on the plain
"Ride slower, slower, Heathen" she says
"Already the blood has me shoe".
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
He stirrups and on he flew,
And with her body harrowed the road.
Her silken in tatters tore,
Her silken blouse was spattered blood.
"Ride slower, slower, Heathen," she says
"For the road it sorely my knee".
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for thee."
He stirrups and on he flew.
He's dragged her through the and thorns.
Young Margaret a pitiful cry,
And there she's had her little born.
"Oh how can I wrap me little babe
as I've nothing to roll him in?"
He give to her his blanket
"That'll roll him cheek to chin".
As she the blanket from his hand
Tears down her they trickling run.
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?".
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"I'm weeping for me own little
Your blanket's too to roll him in,
and alas, the day I rue
That ever I met such as you!"
He says "Go my baby in the milk,
And dress my in the silk;
When are breaking, hands must bow,
And well I my lady now".
She says "When bloom on the window-pane
And roses on the kitchen floor,
It's then I'll return again
And be your forevermore".
Child
A. L. Lloyd refurbished this Child ballad. The
chilling tension of the song stems the juxtaposition be-
tween stark physical brutality and complexity.
by Frankie Armstrong
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