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'Twas within a furlong of Edinborough Town, In the rosy time of year when the grass was down; Bonny Jocky blithe and gay, Said to Jenny making hay, Let's sit a little (dear) and prattle, 'tis a sultry day. He long had courted the black-brown maid, But Jocky was a wag and would ne'er consent to wed, Which made her Pish and Pooh, And cry out it will not do, I canot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot buckle to. He told her marriage was grown a mere joke, And that no one wedded now but the scoundrel folk, Yet my dear thou should'st prevail, But I know not what I ail, I shall dream of clogs and silly dogs With bottles at their tail; But I'll give thee gloves and a bongrace to wear, And a pretty filly-foal to ride out and take the air, If thou ne'er wil't Pish and Pooh, And cry it ne'er will do, I cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot buckle to. That you'll give me trinkets, cried she, I believe, But ah! what in return must your poor Jenny give; When my maiden treasure's gone, I must gang to London-Town, And roar and rant, and patch and paint, And kiss for half-a-crown; Each drunken bully oblige for pay, And earn a hated living in an odious fulsome way, No, no, no, it ne'er shall do, For a wife I'll be to you, Or I cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot buckle to.
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
- by Thomas d'Urfey (1653 - 1723) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Henry Purcell (1658/9 - 1695), "A Scotch tune", alternate title: "'Twas within a furlong of Edinborough Town", Z. 605 no. 2, published 1696, in Deliciae Musicae, Vol. III [text verified 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , title 1: "Un air écossais", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 32
Word count: 242
C'était à un furlong de la ville d'Édimbourg, À l'époque brillante de l'année où l'herbe est coupée ; Le joli Jocky, joyeux et gai, Disait à Jenny qui faisait les foins : Asseyons-nous un instant (ma chère) pour bavarder, c'est une journée étouffante. Il faisait la cour depuis longtemps à la jeune fille aux sourcils noirs, Mais Jocky était un plaisantin et ne consentirait jamais au mariage, Ce qui lui faisait dire pouah, Et crier que cela ne se ferait pas, Je ne peux pas, peux pas, ne veux pas, ne veux pas céder. Il lui dit que le mariage n'était devenu qu'une blague, Et que personne ne se mariait à part les coquins, Pourtant ma chère tu auras raison, Mais je ne sais pas ce que j'ai, Je rêverai de sabots et de chiens imbéciles, Avec une bouteille à la queue ; Mais je te donnerai des gants et un bonnet à porter, Et une jolie pouliche pour la monter et prendre l'air, Si tu dis plus jamais pouah, Et ne cries plus que cela ne se fera pas, Je ne peux pas, peux pas, ne veux pas, ne veux pas céder. Que tu me donneras des breloques, cria-t-elle, je le crois, Mais ah ! qu'est-ce qu'en retour ta pauvre Jenny devra donner ? Quand mon trésor de jeune fille sera parti, Je devrais aller à Londres, Et rugir et fulminer, me peindre et me rafistoler, Et embrasser pour une demi-couronne ; Faire plaisir à chaque brute avinée pour de l'argent, Et gagner une vie détestable d'une façon tout à fait odieuse, Non, non, non, cela ne se fera pas, Comme épouse, je serai à toi Ou je ne peux pas, peux pas, ne veux pas, ne veux pas céder.
Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2014 by Guy Laffaille, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Thomas d'Urfey (1653 - 1723)
This text was added to the website: 2014-06-29
Line count: 32
Word count: 291