Sung by Alicia Benassayag, Tetuán, 1956.

Don Bueso invites Moriana to his wedding, but does not tell her who the bride will be. Assuming he is to marry someone else, she puts poisoned berries into his wine. Invited by Don Bueso, she takes the first drink but does not swallow it. Don Bueso drinks the poisoned wine, and about to die, asks why she wants to kill him. Maddened by jealousy, she tells him — and regretfully learns the wedding was to be her own. Don Bueso is buried, and she is burned at the stake.

And there was Moriana,
Seated on her terrace;
She saw Don Bueso coming,
A knight mounted on his horse.

“It is good to see you, Moriana.”
“It is good to see you, Don Bueso.
Is it true what they say
That you are going to marry?’

“Whoever told you, Moriana,
Told you the absolute truth;
On Sunday I will be married.
Today, I come to invite you.

“To invite you and your ladies
To prepare a banquet for me.”
Moriana bounded right
Into her father’s garden.

She picked four berries
From a fine bush;
She crushed them, and crushed them well
And put them in the wine.

“Taste this wine, Bueso,
This delicious rose;
For seven years, seven,
I have kept it hidden.”

“You taste it, Moriana,
You taste it first;
That’s what ladies do
When they invite a gentleman.”

Moriana lifts it,
Lifts it to her mouth;
Her teeth are so tiny,
That not a drop goes through.

Now Don Bueso lifts it,
Lifts it to his mouth;
Tired from his country journey,
He leaves not a single drop.

“What did you put there, Moriana?
What did you put in my wine?
I have weapons in my hand,
But I do not see the road.

“What did you put there, Moriana?
What did you put in the glass?
I have weapons in my hand,
But I do not see my horse.

I do not regret my dying,
Although I am so young;
Yet I am sorry for my mother,
Who will not see me alive.

I do not regret my dying,
Although I am so young;
Yet I am sorry for my mother,
Who will not see me well again.”

“So Sunday you have a wedding,
Today you came to invite me.”
“To you, Moriana,
It is you I was to marry.”

Now they take Don Bueso away,
They take him to his burial;
Now they take Moriana away,
They take her to burn her alive.

Armistead, Vol. II, pg. 92 (M1)

Sung by Alicia Benassayag, Tetuán, 1956.

Y estábase Moriana,
sentada en su solverado;
viera venir a Don Bueso,
caballero en su caballo.

“En buena hora esteis, Moriana.”
“Y en ella vengais, Don Bueso.
¿Qué dicho, me habían dicho,
que os ibais a casare?”

“Quien te dijo, Moriana,
te ha dicho cierto y verdade;
y el domingo tengo boda.
hoy te vengo a convidare.

“A vos y a vuestras doncellas
que me hagais un manjare.”
Salto diera Moriana
y hasta el vergél de su padre.

Cogiera cuatro bolitas
de ese fine solimane;
majólas bien, y majólas
y en el vine la fue a echare.

“Próbalo este vino, Bueso
y de este rico rosino;
siete años hacían, siete,
que os lo tengo escondido.”

“Próbalo tú, Moriana,
próbalo tú la primera;
que así hace toda dama
que convida a caballero.”

Ya lo pone Moriana,
ya lo ponía a la boca;
los dientes tiene menudos,
del los no pasa una gota.

Ya le ponía Don Bueso,
ya le ponía a la boca;
cansado viene del campo,
de ello no deja una gota.

“¿Qué me echates, Moriana?
Qué me echates en el vino?
Las armas traigo en la mano,
y ya no veo mi camino.

“Qué me echates, Moriana?
Qué me echates en el claro?
Las armas traigo en la mano,
y no veo a mi caballo.

No se me da por mi muerte,
ni aunque temprano lo digo;
se me da por mi madre,
que ya no me verá vivo.

No se me da por mi muerte,
aunque temprano lo hablo;
se me da por la mi madre,
que ya no me verá sano.”

“Y el domingo tienes boda,
hoy vienes tú a convidarme.”
“Contigo yo Moriana,
contigo iba yo a casarme.”

Ya sacan a Don Bueso
ya le sacan a enterrare;
ya sacan a Moriana,
la sacan a quemare.