Luyện nghe bài hát Prince Heathen

Prince
Young Margaret sat in a high
And as pale as a milk white swan
When she saw a shadow on the
Come her and the sun.
"Oh, mother, is it a
Or a of ravens in the air,
Or a black army with a flag
And a ragged man them there?"
"Oh, daughter, go run in your little
And bid adieu to flowers so gay.
For yonder Prince Heathen's men
And I they're coming to take you away."
In there come Prince then, saying
"Good day to you.
And where will l that sweet little bride
her hands as soft as morning dew?"
Young locked her bower door
But his men soon made the hinges
And in come Prince Heathen then
And give to her a gay ring.
at him the ring 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.
taken her in his two dark arms,
And laid her on the stone floor.
And he set her free again,
Her maidenhead from her he's
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
He's cast her in a cabin of stone
Where 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, bonny maid, you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
Prince Heathen down from the mountains
Where been hunting with his armoured men.
He came unto this fair young
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! Will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for thee."
He's taken her by her hair,
And it to his horse's tail.
dragged her through the bushes and briars
That grow so all on the plain
"Ride slower, slower, Heathen" she says
"Already the has filled me shoe".
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
He shortened and on he flew,
And with her body he's the road.
Her silken skirt in tore,
Her silken blouse was spattered blood.
"Ride slower, slower, Heathen," she says
"For the it sorely hurts 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 gave a cry,
And she's had her little babe born.
"Oh how can I me sweet little babe
Seeing as I've nothing to him in?"
He give to her his saddle
"That'll him from cheek to chin".
As she took the blanket from his
Tears her cheeks they trickling run.
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?".
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"I'm weeping for me own son;
Your blanket's too rough to him in,
and alas, the day I rue
That I met such rogues as you!"
He "Go wash my baby in the milk,
And dress my in the silk;
hearts are breaking, hands must bow,
And I love my lady now".
She "When violets bloom on the window-pane
And roses grow on the floor,
then that I'll return again
And be bride forevermore".
#104
A. L. Lloyd refurbished this ancient ballad. The
chilling tension of the song stems from the be-
stark physical brutality and psychological complexity.
Recorded by Armstrong
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