Back to the English Class

Context: song written in 1963 by Dylan, telling the true story of the murder of Hattie Carroll, which happened that same year.

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William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gathering*.                                                                            *(= meeting)
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody* down to the station                                                            *(= detention)
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.

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But you, who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag* away from your face.                                                                                    *(= cloth)
Now ain't* the time for your tears.                                                                                    *(= isn’t)

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William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed* with a shrug** of his shoulders                             *(=action) **(= shoulder gesture)
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes, on bail* was out walking.                                                        *(= sous caution)

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But you, who philosophize disgrace, and criticize fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.

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Hattie Carroll was a maid in the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays* on a whole other level,                                                                *(=cendrier)
Got killed by a blow, lay slain* by a cane                                                                                 *(= killed)
That sailed through the air and came down through the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.

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And you, who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.

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In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel*                                                *(= judge’s hammer)
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught them
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feeling that way without warning.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger… with a six-month sentence.

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Oh, but you, who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury* the rag deep in your face.                                                                                    *(ici = make disappear)
For now is the time for your tears.