The Prophecy (Prologue) / Devell, the Devell He Is, I Swear God... (Scene I) Lyrics

PROLOGUE - A Prophecy

When the moon casts ominous glow
And wild winds blow

The dreary raven sings
To the rhythm of flapping wings

Dance their round the Three in Silk
Ethereal, fair, and white as milk

The Three in cotton do the same
All Six call the Devil by his name

As long the church tower you can see
Six unholy sisters they will be


SCENE I

FIRST PEASANT
Devell, the Devell he is, I swer God,
Malice, mischief, he kin dew al' of it,
Skerry spells he kin kast, and he kin witch,
All sorts of badness like Devells dew,

SECOND PEASANT
'Tis true, 'tis true, he can call imps at will
And hev power over 'em and command
Make 'em work his fields wen he drink his ale

FIRST PEASANT
The wicked bastard, he told me one day
If I don't bring 'im my money and beer
He will witch my horse and will blight my crop

THE GROCER'S WIFE
Then you paid in vain, I'm afraid my dear,
No witchcraft could make your nag more stupid

EVERYBODY
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

THE MILLER
Ha! The Devil himself he may not be
But with the Devil he danced at midnight,
Deep in the marshlands, where the deuce abodes
And powers ungodly he was granted,
Powers over both Man and Animales

THE SMITH
Bollocks! Old George ain't no Devil, you chumps,
Neither his powers I call ungodly
Many good deeds he's done for this village,
Many poor folks he's cured, good old George has,
My wife, poor thing, was saved from pain of warts

THE GROCER
Aye, he's right, Old George helped me, too, once
And he wanted nothing in return, no,
But his piercing eyes can make you tremble
All his countenance and voice, deep and hoarse
Make me believe all the stories I heard
Like that of the night at St Nicholas church...

THE GROCER'S WIFE
Fairy tales of old drunk, all well know his vice!
Foolish talk disturbs the peace of our guest
A gentleman well-learned that I can tell
Hoping for some food and shelter, I'm sure
Looking not for creepy superstitions

THE MASON
Many thanks may be laid upon your hands,
Good woman, but fear not about my peace
For in fact, I've travelled to Canewdon
To meet the Cunning Man you speak of

THE MILLER
Why would you do that, sir, if I may ask?

THE MASON
To seek for a piece of advice I need
And to discuss a few other matters
The nature of which I was forbidden
To disclose

THE SMITH
Are you of the masons, sir?
I can see your ornaments and weapon
And that fine signet ring, all bear features
Of no ordinary craftsmanship...

THE MASON
Yes,
I'm a Rosicrucian, a member of
Societas Rosicruciana in Anglia
I'm here to consult Mr. Pickingill
Whom many of us hold in high esteem
However, I would really like to hear
More of your intriguing stories, please,

FIRST PEASANT
Toad-wytche, a toad-wytche he is, the Devell

THE MASON
A Toad-witch? And what's that if I may ask?

FIRST PEASANT
You ketch a hoppin' toad and bury it
In a Black Ants' nest till black-boones are left

SECOND PEASANT
You serch a rare toad with a yellow ring
Round its neck, and take the bone to the brook
At midnight till the Devil come to you
And pull you over the water and then...

FIRST PEASANT
...you kin be a wytche and dew badness charms

THE MASON
And what's the story with your local priest?