Planxty - Arthur McBride

Otra gran canción de Planxty, el instrumento principal en Arthur McBride es la gaita uilleann, algo que no se ve mucho en las canciones de folk irlandés. Cuenta de dos primos que salen para pasear y encuentran un grupo de soldados británicos que intentan reclutarlos. Según el sargento, la vida en el regimiento es la más cómoda posible, con mujeres y dinero. Pero los dos chicos rechazan la oferta y se empiece una pelea, que los irlandeses ganan con sus shillelaghs, un tipo de bastón usado en Irlanda en el siglo XVIII que tiene una cabeza grande que lo hizo útil como un garrote cuando necesario.

Letra abajo

I had a first cousin called Arthur McBride,

He and I took a stroll down by the seaside,

A seeking good fortune and what might betide,

T'was just as the day was a dawning

And after we rested we both took a tramp,

We met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Cramp,

Besides the wee drummer who beat up for camp,

With his rowdy dow dow in the morning

He said my young fellows if you will enlist,

A guinea you quickly will get in your fist,
And besides a crown for to kick up the dust,
And drink the King's health in the morning

For a soldier he leads a very fine life,

He always is blessed with a charming young wife,

And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife,

And always lives happy and charming

Ah now, my bold sergeant, we are not for sale,

We'll make no such bargain and your bribe won't avail,

We're not tired of our country, we don't care to sail,

Although that your offer is charming

And if we were such fools as to take the advance,
It's right bloody slender would be our poor chance,

For the Queen wouldn't scruple to send us to France,
Where we would be shot without warning
 

Ah now my bold fellows if I hear but one word,
I instantly now will out with my sword,
And into your bodies as strength will afford,
So now me gay devils take warning
 

But Arthur and I we soon took the odds,
We gave them no chance for to draw out their swords,
Our whacking shillelaghs came over their heads,
And paid them right smart in the morning

As for the wee drummer we rifled his pouch,
We made a football of his rowdy dow dow,
And into the ocean for to rock and to roll and,
Barring the day its returning

As for the ould rapier that hung by his side,
We flung as far as we could in the tide,
To the devil I pitch you says Arthur McBride,
To temper your steel in the morning.