Текст песни The Devil and the Feathery Wife - Martin Carthy
Now
there
was
an
old
farmer
lived
over
the
hill,
And
a
poor
old
fellow
they
say,
He
was
plagued
by
hunger
and
a
scolding
wife,
The
worst
misfortune
that
day.
And
as
he
cut
wood
in
the
forest
one
day,
Between
dark
doom
and
despair
The
devil
himself,
he
jumped
out
of
the
bush,
And
he
stood
before
him
there.
"O,
what′s
the
matter?"
the
devil
he
cried,
"You
look
so
discontent,
Haven't
you
got
any
money
to
buy
your
food
Or
to
pay
your
landlord
rent?
"What
would
you
give
me?"
the
devil
he
cried,
"If
I
should
end
your
debate,
And
I
gave
you
money
and
gear
enough,
So
you′d
never
more
want
for
meat"
"But
I've
nothing
to
give
you,"
the
old
man
cried,
"I've
nothing
right
here
to
my
hand.
But
if
you
would
do
what
you
say
for
me
I′ll
be
at
your
command."
"Right
then
I′ll
make
you
a
bargain,"
the
devil
he
cried,
"It's
a
bargain
you
just
couldn′t
miss:
You
bring
me
a
beast
at
seven
years'
end,
I′ll
try
to
say
what
it
is.
"But
if
that
beast
I
name
aright,
(You
mark
what
I
do
tell)
You've
got
to
toddle
along
with
me
For
to
view
the
ovens
of
Hell."
So
the
old
man
prospered
and
prospered
well,
It
was
all
gained
and
spent,
Till
he
come
to
the
end
of
seven
long
years;
Sorely
he
did
lament.
"Oh,
what
is
the
matter?"
his
wife
she
cried,
"You
look
so
discontent.
Sure
you′ve
got
some
silly
young
girl
with
child,
Making
you
sore
lament"
"No,
I've
made
a
bargain
with
the
devil,"
he
cried,
"It
was
a
bargain
I
just
couldn't
miss:
I′ve
got
to
bring
him
a
beast
at
seven
years′
end
He's
got
to
say
what
it
is.
"But
if
that
beast
he
names
aright
(You
mark
what
I
do
tell)
I′ve
got
to
toddle
along
with
him
For
to
view
the
ovens
of
Hell."
"Oh,
never
you
worry,"
his
wife,
she
cries,
"For
your
cattle,
your
keep,
or
your
feed,
For
the
wit
of
a
woman,
it
comes
in
handy
At
times
in
an
hour
of
need.
"Go
and
fetch
me
the
droppings
from
all
of
our
chickens
And
spread
them
all
over
the
floor.
Stark
naked
I
will
strip
myself
And
I'll
roll
in
it
all
over
and
o′er.
"And
fetch
me
the
basket
of
feathers,"
she
cries
"Of
the
beast
we
had
for
our
tea
And
I'll
roll
and
I′ll
roll
all
over
in
them
Until
never
an
inch
be
free"
So
she
rolled
and
she
rolled
in
feathers
and
droppings
From
her
head
down
to
her
navel.
"By
Christ",
he
says,
"what
an
horrible
sight,
You
look
far
worse
than
the
devil."
Then
the
devil
himself
come
in,
He
began
to
for
steam
and
to
hiss.
"By
Christ,"
he
said,
"What
an
awful
sight,
I'm
damned
if
I
know
what
it
is."
He
started
to
shake
and
he
started
to
quake,
Saying,
"Have
you
any
more
of
these
at
home?"
"Yes,"
he
cries,
"I've
got
seven
more
That
in
my
forest
do
roam."
"If
you′ve
got
seven
more
of
these
beasts
That
in
your
forest
do
dwell,
I′ll
be
as
good
as
my
bargain
and
I'm
off
home
For
she′s
worse
than
the
demons
in
Hell."
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