歌曲 | The Driving of the Deer |
歌手 | Bella Hardy |
专辑 | The Dark Peak and The White |
Lord peverel stood on the lordis seat, | |
And an angry man was he | |
For he heard the sound of a hunter’s horn | |
Slow winding up the lea | |
He look’d to north, he look’d to south, | |
East and west looked he | |
“Oh holy cross” the norman cried, | |
“Who hunts in my country?” | |
“Belike they think the peverel dead, | |
Or far from forest walk. | |
Woe worth their hunting, they shall find | |
Abroad is still the hawk” | |
Again he looked where helldon hill | |
Joins with the konying’s dale | |
And then once more the bugle blast | |
Came swelling along the gale. | |
“Mount, mount and ride” the baron cried | |
“The sound come’s o’er the lea, | |
These outlaws, who now drive my deer | |
Shall soon our quarry be" | |
All down the slope, along the flat | |
Against the hill they ride, | |
Non pull the rein till every steed | |
Stands fast at gautriss side. | |
“Hold hard! They’re here” the peverel said | |
And upward held his hand | |
While all his many kept behind | |
To wait their lords command | |
And westwards, on the bolt-edge moor | |
Beyond the rocky height, | |
Both hounds and hunters, men and horse, | |
And deer were all in sight. | |
Who are these who break forest law? | |
Who fear not peverel’s sword? | |
Up spoke sir payne peverel, and said | |
“Of bowdon he’s the lord, | |
Sir bruno, hight, a franklin brave | |
One of the saxon swine | |
Who feast each day on fat fed beef | |
And guzzle ale not wine” | |
“Beshrew his horn and beshrew his heart, | |
This land he may not ride. | |
If he kills a deer, by the conquerors bow | |
By forest law he’ll bide.” | |
“Ride on, sir payne, and tell the churl | |
To cease his hunting cheer, | |
And come before his surzerain lord | |
Who waits his presence here” | |
Sir payne rode swiftly across the dale | |
Followed by his gentle’s three, | |
Nor stayed his horse ’till he had reached | |
The hunters company. | |
And then he said “fair sirs, you ride | |
And drive our deer as free, | |
As if this land were all your own | |
And not in forestry” | |
Sir franklin cried “I’m not his man, | |
And peverel knows full well, | |
Though within the bounds of his forest walk | |
It likes me sooth to dwell.” | |
“My manor of bowden I hold in chief | |
For good king harry’s might | |
And you can only force me hence | |
If strongest in the fight” | |
Each saxon then upraised his spear | |
Or twanged his good yew bow | |
And the normans who rode out unarmed | |
Couldn’t match this threatening show | |
Lord peverel viewed their bows and spears | |
And marked their strong array, | |
And so grim he smiled, and softly said | |
“We’ll right this wrong someday” |
Lord peverel stood on the lordis seat, | |
And an angry man was he | |
For he heard the sound of a hunter' s horn | |
Slow winding up the lea | |
He look' d to north, he look' d to south, | |
East and west looked he | |
" Oh holy cross" the norman cried, | |
" Who hunts in my country?" | |
" Belike they think the peverel dead, | |
Or far from forest walk. | |
Woe worth their hunting, they shall find | |
Abroad is still the hawk" | |
Again he looked where helldon hill | |
Joins with the konying' s dale | |
And then once more the bugle blast | |
Came swelling along the gale. | |
" Mount, mount and ride" the baron cried | |
" The sound come' s o' er the lea, | |
These outlaws, who now drive my deer | |
Shall soon our quarry be" | |
All down the slope, along the flat | |
Against the hill they ride, | |
Non pull the rein till every steed | |
Stands fast at gautriss side. | |
" Hold hard! They' re here" the peverel said | |
And upward held his hand | |
While all his many kept behind | |
To wait their lords command | |
And westwards, on the boltedge moor | |
Beyond the rocky height, | |
Both hounds and hunters, men and horse, | |
And deer were all in sight. | |
Who are these who break forest law? | |
Who fear not peverel' s sword? | |
Up spoke sir payne peverel, and said | |
" Of bowdon he' s the lord, | |
Sir bruno, hight, a franklin brave | |
One of the saxon swine | |
Who feast each day on fat fed beef | |
And guzzle ale not wine" | |
" Beshrew his horn and beshrew his heart, | |
This land he may not ride. | |
If he kills a deer, by the conquerors bow | |
By forest law he' ll bide." | |
" Ride on, sir payne, and tell the churl | |
To cease his hunting cheer, | |
And come before his surzerain lord | |
Who waits his presence here" | |
Sir payne rode swiftly across the dale | |
Followed by his gentle' s three, | |
Nor stayed his horse ' till he had reached | |
The hunters company. | |
And then he said " fair sirs, you ride | |
And drive our deer as free, | |
As if this land were all your own | |
And not in forestry" | |
Sir franklin cried " I' m not his man, | |
And peverel knows full well, | |
Though within the bounds of his forest walk | |
It likes me sooth to dwell." | |
" My manor of bowden I hold in chief | |
For good king harry' s might | |
And you can only force me hence | |
If strongest in the fight" | |
Each saxon then upraised his spear | |
Or twanged his good yew bow | |
And the normans who rode out unarmed | |
Couldn' t match this threatening show | |
Lord peverel viewed their bows and spears | |
And marked their strong array, | |
And so grim he smiled, and softly said | |
" We' ll right this wrong someday" |