Luyện nghe bài hát Prince Heathen

Prince
Young Margaret sat in a tower
And as pale as a milk white swan
When she saw a shadow on the
betwixt her and the sun.
"Oh, mother, is it a
Or a of ravens in the air,
Or a black with a silver flag
And a ragged man amongst there?"
"Oh, daughter, go run in your little
And bid adieu to flowers so gay.
For yonder comes Prince men
And I they're coming to take you away."
In there Prince Heathen then, saying
"Good day to you.
And where will l find that sweet little
With her as soft as morning dew?"
Young locked her bower door
But his men soon the hinges spring
And in there Prince Heathen then
And give to her a gay ring.
Back at him the she flung
She cries "Of you I no fear.
call you wolf-hound seven times
Rather then call you dear."
He swore then, by her hair,
He'd her weep and call him dear.
He's her in his two dark arms,
And laid her on the stone floor.
And he set her free again,
Her from her he's ta'en:
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
He's her down in a cabin of stone
forty locks did hang thereto.
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"Come, my lady of the salt, salt meat,
And vinegar for her brew,
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
Heathen down from the mountains came
Where been hunting with his armoured men.
He came unto this fair maid
All in the where she is laid.
"A drink, a drink, Heathen" she said.
"Even if it's from the 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 dragged her the bushes and briars
That grow so thick all on the
"Ride slower, slower, Prince Heathen" she
"Already the has filled me shoe".
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
He stirrups and on he flew,
And her body he's harrowed the road.
Her skirt in tatters tore,
Her silken was spattered with blood.
"Ride slower, slower, Heathen," she says
"For the it sorely hurts my knee".
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for thee."
He shortened and on he flew.
He's her through the briar and thorns.
Young Margaret a pitiful cry,
And there she's had her little born.
"Oh how can I wrap me sweet little
Seeing as I've to roll him in?"
He give to her his blanket
"That'll roll him from to chin".
As she the blanket from his hand
Tears her cheeks they trickling run.
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?".
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"I'm weeping for me own son;
Your blanket's too to roll him in,
and alas, the day I rue
That ever I met rogues as you!"
He "Go wash my baby in the milk,
And dress my in the silk;
When hearts are breaking, hands bow,
And I love my lady now".
She says "When violets on the window-pane
And roses on the kitchen floor,
It's that I'll return again
And be your forevermore".
#104
A. L. Lloyd refurbished ancient Child ballad. The
chilling tension of the stems from the juxtaposition be-
tween physical brutality and psychological complexity.
Recorded by Armstrong
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