This is our translation of an ancient and shocking tale from France. Our version interweaves two different versions of the song, namely, La Serpente Verte from Eric Montbel’s album Le Jardin des Mystères and Le Breuvage Empoisonné from Jean-François Dutertre’s Ballades Françaises, vol. 2. Both these versions root back to Achille Millien’s song collections from the Nivernais in France.
Here, a wife is browbeaten into a relationship and an attempted murder by a powerful figure. Her husband, the intended victim, is saved only by the miraculous intervention of his infant son. Tragedy ensues.
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Oh aimez-moi, plaisante brûne
Oh aimez-moi, Oh aimez-moi
Vous aimerez le fils d’un prince
Le fils d’un roi, le fils d’un roi
“Come lie with me, my noble lady
Come lay you down, come lay you down
And win the love of a fine prince
Son of a king, heir to his crown”
“But, gracious lord, how may we ever?
(For) married am I, married am I
And my good lord, he works in the vineyard,
And would us espy, would us espy ”
“Then to the wood, my noble lady
We shall repair, we shall repair
There slice the head from a green viper
We shall ensnare, we shall ensnare”
“Then, in a mortar we will grind it
In muslin we’ll tie, muslin we’ll tie
(And) into a flask of red wine we’ll place it
Where it may brew and where it may lie”
“And, when your lord, his labours are over
His throat will be dry, throat will be dry
He’ll call for his wine, he’ll call for his brandy
And poisoned will die, poisoned will die”
And, so, this lord did call to his lady
“Bring me red wine, bring me red wine
For my dry lips I surely would wetten
Ere that I dine, ere that I dine”
But up spoke a babe who’d ne’er before spoken,
Loud he did call, loud he did cry,
“Drink not the wine, my loving father
Else you will die, else you will die!”
“Come tell me true, my noble lady,
This is not so, this is not so,
Here, take my glass, drink me a health,
That I may know, that I may know”
And as through her lips, the poison passed,
First, she did trip, then she did fall
And as her heart did flutter and falter
Soft she did call, soft she did call
“Oh cursed be thou wilful princeling,
(That) I could not deny, could not deny
For love of you, I brewed this poison,
(And) now I must die, now I must die”