Перевод песни Fiddler's Green - Matty Groves

A holiday, a holiday

The first one of the year

Lord Arnold’s wife came into the church

The gospel for to hear

And when the meeting it was done

She cast her eyes about

And there she saw little Matty Groves

Walking in the crowd

“Come home with me, little Matty Groves.

Come home with me tonight.

Come home with me, little Matty Groves

And sleep with me till light.”

“Oh I can’t come home and I won’t go home

And sleep with you tonight.

By the rings on your fingers I can see

That you are my master’s wife.”

“And what if I’m Lord Arnold’s wife.

For he is not at home.

He is out in the far country

Bringing the yearlings home.”

So little Matty Groves, he lay down

And took a little sleep

When he awoke Lord Arnold

He was standing by his feet.

Saying “How do you like my feather bed

And how do you like my sheets?

How do you like my lady wife

Who lies in your arms asleep?”

“Oh well, I like your feather bed,

Better I like your sheets,

Best of all I like your lady gay

Who lies in my arms asleep.”

“Get up! Get up!” Lord Arnold cried,

“Get up as quick as you can.

Let it never be said in fair England

That I slew a naked man.”

“Oh I won’t get up and I won’t get up

I can’t get up for my life

For you have two long beaten swords

And I not a pocket knife.”

“Well it’s true I have two beaten swords

And they cost me deep in the purse,

But you will have the better of them

And I will have the worse.”

So Matty struck the very first blow

And he hurt Lord Arnold sore

Lord Arnold struck the very next blow

And Matty struck up the floor.

And then he took his own dear wife

And sat her down on his knee

Saying “who do you like the best of us now,

Your dead Matty Groves or me?”

And then spoke up his own dear wife,

Never heard her speak so free

“I’d rather a kiss from dead Matty’s lips,

Than you or your finery”

And then Lord Arnold he jumped up

And loudly did he bawl.

He struck his wife right through the heart

And pinned her up to the wall.

“Oh a grave, a grave”, Lord Arnold cried

“to put these lovers in.

Won’t you bury my lady at the top

For she was a noble kin