Luyện nghe bài hát Prince Heathen

Prince
Margaret sat in a tower high
And as pale as a milk white swan
she saw a shadow on the plain
Come her and the sun.
"Oh, mother, is it a
Or a of ravens in the air,
Or a black army a silver flag
And a ragged man them there?"
"Oh, daughter, go run in your yard
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 sweet little bride
With her as soft as morning dew?"
Young locked her bower door
But his men soon the hinges spring
And in come Prince Heathen then
And give to her a gay ring.
Back at him the she flung
She cries "Of you I no fear.
I'll you wolf-hound seven times
Rather call you husband dear."
He then, by her yellow hair,
He'd make her and call him dear.
taken her in his two dark arms,
And her on the cold stone floor.
And he set her free again,
Her from her he's ta'en:
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
cast her down in a cabin of stone
Where forty locks did thereto.
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"Come, my lady of the salt, salt meat,
And bitter for her brew,
"Ha ha, bonny maid, you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
Prince down from the mountains came
Where he'd been with his armoured 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 from the well pool."
"Never a drink! Will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for thee."
He's taken her by her hair,
And it to his horse's tail.
He's dragged her the bushes and briars
That so thick all on the plain
"Ride slower, slower, Prince Heathen" she
"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 her body he's harrowed the road.
Her silken skirt in tore,
Her blouse was spattered with blood.
"Ride slower, slower, Heathen," she says
"For the road it sorely my knee".
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for thee."
He stirrups and on he flew.
He's her through the briar and thorns.
Young Margaret a pitiful cry,
And there had her little babe born.
"Oh how can I me sweet little babe
Seeing as nothing to roll him in?"
He to her his saddle blanket
"That'll roll him from to chin".
As she the blanket from his hand
down her cheeks they trickling run.
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?".
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"I'm weeping for me own little
Your blanket's too rough to him in,
and alas, the day I rue
That ever I met rogues as you!"
He says "Go wash my in the milk,
And my lady in the silk;
When hearts are breaking, must bow,
And I love my lady now".
She says "When bloom on the window-pane
And grow on the kitchen floor,
It's then I'll return again
And be your forevermore".
#104
A. L. refurbished this ancient Child ballad. The
chilling tension of the song from the juxtaposition be-
tween stark physical brutality and complexity.
Recorded by Frankie
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SF
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