[13] Prins Cardinael van Spangjen Tekst van Cornelis Strib?e
Stemme: Coridon was moe van Jagen
Prins Cardinael van Spaengjen Is nu uwen moet ghedaen? Dat ghy den Prins d'Oraengjen Niet en soeckt om op te slaen, Of heeft hy te stercken haven Doen graven, doen graven Dat ghy 't niet en vint geraen.
Lest quaemt ghy tot Rijs-bergen Sloegh u Leger daer ter neer, Geen aen-val en dorst ghy vergen, Want wy pasten op Geweer By Nacht en by dagh in 't Wapen, In 't Wapen. En 't slapen Lieten wy voor 's Princen eer.
Dus komt nu selfs eens kijcken Na de brave stadt Breda. Die nu gansch wil bezwijcken, Want wy komen haer te na, En hoort hoe de schaly-daken Door 't kraken, door 't kraken Tuygen over groote scha.
Het Hoeren-werck zijn gronden Is gemest met Spangjaers bloedt, Hebt ghy doen niet bevonden d' Edel Prins sijn kloecken moet? Doen vreeslijck de Mijnen sprongen Hoe songen, en sprongen Doen u Wals en Spaensch gebroedt.
Dus wil ick u wat raden Prince Cardinael Infant, Treckt uyt u Krijghs-gewaden, Reyst weer na u Spaensche Landt, En draeght daer de Geestelijckheden Haer kleden, met vreeden, Die u beter staen ter handt.
| [13] Prins Cardinael van Spangjen (Prince Cardinal of Spain, 1637) Text by Cornelis Strib?e
The Brabant city of Breda, not too far from Antwerp, was in Spanish hands when Ferdinand became governor, but in 1637 the city was besieged by the Dutch stadtholder, Frederick Henry, who was a brilliant commander. Prince Ferdinand came from Antwerp with an army of 20.000 men to break the siege, but was defeated near the village of Rijsbergen. Thus Breda was doomed to fall into Dutch hands. A sarcastic song by the Beggars, addressed to Ferdinand during the siege.
Tune: Corydon was tired from hunting
Prince Cardinal of Spain, What's left of your courage? Now that you're not pursuing The Prince of Orange in attack. Or are his harbor defenses Dug too strong, dug too strong That you find it inadvisable?
You came to Rijsbergen And camped your army there, You didn't dare attack Because we'd overseen our defenses well And by night and day we were armed, We were armed, and did without sleep In honor of our Prince.
So, come now and see for yourself Look at the brave city of Breda, Which is ready to collapse completely, Because we're getting too close, And listen how the slate roofs Are creaking, are creaking, Showing how great the damage is.
The ground of this whorish work (*1) Is manured with Spaniards' blood. Didn't you notice then How brave the noble prince was? When the awful mines exploded How they sang and sprang, Your Wallonian and Spanish rabble!
So I want to give you advice, Prince Cardinal Infante, Slip off your war-harness, Go back to your Spanish lands, And there put on your clerical robes, Your robes, with peace, They suit you better.
(*1): referring to the Whore of Babylon, i.e. the Pope.
Text from Cornelis Strib?e, Chaos ofte Verwerden Clomp (Dordrecht, 1643), p. 140. Reprinted in Nieu Bossche Geusen lied-boeck (Amsterdam, 1663), p. 70. Melody (Tircis au bord de la Seine) from the Song Manuscript of Duchess Sophie Elisabeth von Braunschweig-Wolfenb?ttel (c. 1633): Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenb?ttel, MS Cod. Guelf. 52 Noviss 8o, no. 4.
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