Bellowhead
Bellowhead - Widow's Curse songtekst
Je score:
In London dwelt a merchant man who left unto his son A thousand pounds in land each year to spend when he was gone No sooner was his father dead and buried in his grave Than this his wild and wanton son his mind to lewdness gave Within the seas of fleshly love, his heart was drowned so deep At night he could not quietly without strange women sleep So he kept women secretly to feed his heart's desire And he dressed them all as gallant boys in pages' trim attire But then one day upon the round he spied a lovely dame Who was the widow's daughter dear of good report and fame He beauty like the purple rose so glittered in his eye That ravished by the same he sought her secret company Then like a lustful lecher he found such convenient time That he enforced her to drink 'till she was drunk with wine And being over-charged with wine, a maiden's head is weak He ravished her and when that she no reluctance make And mark I pray what then befell unto this modest dame When she recovered her lost sense and found of her defame He womb began to swell; in time the babe received life Though she was neither widow nor dame nor yet a married wife Not called a bastard by such wives that hold my fate in scorn" "For I a strumpet in disgrace though one against my will Before that I would shame my friends my own life's blood I'll spill And as with wine I was deceived and made a victicious dame So I will wash away with wine my scarlet spots of shame" Then drinking down hot burning wine she yielded up her breath By which the same the unborn babe was scalded unto death Upon her knees her her mother fell; to heaven did cry and call "If ever widow's curse," quoth she, "on mortal man did fall, Then say amen to mine, oh Lord, that he may never thrive Who was the cause of this sad fate but not rot away alive" His nails from out his fingers fell his eyes from out his head His toes they rotted from his feet before that he was dead His tongue that had false sworn so oft to compass his desire Within his mouth did swell and burn like coals of sparking fire And thus in torment for his sins the wicked villain died Whose hateful carcass after death could not in earth abide But in the maws of carrion crows the ravens made their tomb And then in hell he screamed and writhed in everlasting doom!