I was idle, the day of payment came on,
And I had not the money in store;
I feared the wrath of Isidro,
But I feared Henrique more.
On a dark, dark night I took my flight
And hastily fled away:
It chanced that by St. Andre Church
The road I had chosen lay.
As I passed the door I thought what I had swore
Upon St. Isidr day;