þis feste is ine myn stomak – part the first

A story about how everyone just wants to go to the party.

Ian: "I doubt you could find the appropriate documentation for this song. And though the lyrics are simple and alliterative, I do not believe this could pass as a 14th Century Chanson." Monique: "Is that a....challenge?" Ian: "If you could translate this into middle English and put it to period music..."  Monique: "Accepted."
Ian: “I doubt you could find the appropriate documentation for this song. And though the lyrics are simple and alliterative, I do not believe this could pass as a 14th Century Chanson.”
Monique: “Is that a….challenge?”
Ian: “If you could translate this into middle English and put it to period music…”
Monique: “Accepted.”


________________________________________

Al hayl myn frende. Dinen gan.

What now, alle. Dinen gan

Whi nat ete?

Heren Osbert, whi nat ete?

Mmm!

I eate, y fayth!

Gode, gode!

I eate, y fayth!

Gode, gode!

 

Henne! What how!

In myn stomak!

Feste, feste. O! in myn stomak.

 

Chese! What how!

In myne stomak!

Feste, feste. O! in myn stomak.

 

Jus! What how!

In myn stomak!

What how!

 

þis feste is ine myne stomak.

So gode, so gode.

Now, þis feste is ine myne stomak.

So gode, so gode, gode.

Al hayl! þis feste is ine myne stomak.

So gode, so gode.

Now, þis feste is ine myne stomak.

So gode, so gode, gode.

 

Good, good.

Welylawey!

Cryestow?

We wod mak feste in thyn stomak,

thilke feste in thyn stomak

Mores wolde festen in myn stomak?

Yis!

O! Grene benes wolde festen in myn stomak?

Yis!

 

A ye! Wenden doun!

Mores! Al hayl!

In myn stomak!

Feste, feste.

O! Ine myn stomak.

Grene benes! Al hayl!

Ine myn stomak!

Feste, feste.

O! Ine myn stomak.

 

þis feste is ine myn stomak.

So gode, so gode.

Now, þis feste is ine myn stomak.

So gode, so gode, gode.

 

Now, þis feste is ine myn stomak.

So gode, so gode.

So, þis feste is ine myn stomak.

So gode, so gode, gode.

 

Now, þis feste is ine myne stomak.

So gode, so gode, gode.

Now, þis feste is ine myne stomak.

So gode, so gode, gode.

 

I love þis feste is ine myn stomak!

 

_________________________________________

So of course, this is a challenge to make the Yo Gabba Gabba “Party in my stomach” song into Middle English. (You may all thank Master Angus Pembridge for the throw-down.)

HOWEVER as with many things, it has proved (and is proving) a delightful challenge. A somewhat informed translation of this relatively simple piece has been hilarious. Many of these words don’t exist in Middle English so getting the idea of them without losing the humor has been a great challenge. It’s also, naturally, been a better teacher for me about Middle English than many projects have been, because I had to consider “I” and “my” and “your” and what carrots would have been called. It took me far past “forsoothly” and into the realm of Chaucer’s works, dictionaries, and a paper on exclamations in Chaucer’s writings.  I have deep respect for translators.

I’ll probably learn more about this, and I’m sure there are corrections, but it’s a solid work in progress I think.

Next I have to set it to appropriate period music. Middle English Chanson is the challenge. It will not resemble this in structure I think, but it will in spirit.

The process is below, with some links to some of the more helpful sources I used.

Hello, friends.It’s lunchtime.Hey, everyone.It’s lunchtime.Time to eat!Here you go, Brobee.

Time to eat!

Mmm!

All hail my friends.Go dine!What now all.Go dine.Why not eat?Here you go Osbert.

Why not eat?

Mmm!

Al hayl myn frenden.Dinen  gan. What now alle.Dinen  gan.Whi nat ete?Heren Osbert.

Whi nat ete?

Mmm!

I’m gonna eat, yeah.Yummy, yummy.Gonna eat, yeah!Yummy, yummy. I eat, by faith!Good, good!I eat, ey!Good, good. I eate, y fayth!Gode, gode!I eate, ey!Gode, gode!
Chicken! (Yeah!)  In my tummy.Party, party.(Yeah!) In my tummy.Cheese! (Yeah!)  In my tummy.Party, party.(Yeah!)  In my tummy Hen! What how! In my stomach!Feast, feast!Oh! In my stomach.Cheese! What how! In my stomach.Feast, feast.Oh! In my stomach Henne! What how! In myn  stomak!Feste, feste.O! in myn stomak.Chese! What how! In myne  stomak!Feste, feste.O! in myn stomak.
Juice! (Yeah!)In my tummy.Yeah! Broth! What how!In my stomach.Oh. Jus! What how!In myn stomakO
There’s a party in my tummy.(So yummy. So yummy.)Now, there’s a party in my tummy.(So yummy. So yummy, yummy.)Hey, there’s a party in my tummy.(So yummy. So yummy.)Now, there’s a party in my tummy.(So yummy. So yummy, yummy.)Yummy, yummy! This feast is in my stomach.So good, so goodNow there is a feast in my stomach.So good, so good, good.All hail! There is a feast in my stomach.So good, so good.Now there is a feast in my stomach.So good, so good, good.Good, good. þis feste is ine myne stomak.So gode, so gode.Now, þis feste is ine myne stomak.So gode, so gode, gode.Al hayl! þis feste is ine myne stomak.So gode, so godeNow, þis feste is ine myne stomak.So gode, so gode, gode.Good, good.
(CRYING)Why are you sad?(We want to go to the party, the party in your tummy.)Carrots want to go to the party in my tummy?(Yeah!)Oh! Well, do green beans want to go to the party in my tummy?(Yeah!)Well, okay! Let’s go! (Exclamation, sad.)Why do you cry?We would make feast in your stomach, the feast in your stomach.Carrots want to feast in my stomach?Yes!Oh! Green beans would feast in my stomach?Yes!A ye! Let’s go down! Welylawey!Cryestow?We wod mak feste in thyn stomak, thilke feste in thyn stomakMores wolde festen in myn stomak?Yis!O! Grene benes wolde festen in myn stomak?Yis!A ye! Wenden dounn
Carrots! (Yeah!)In my tummy.Party, party.(Yeah!)In my tummy.Green beans! (Yeah!)In my tummy.Party, party. (Yeah!)In my tummy. Carrots! All hail!In my stomach.Feast, feast!Oh! In my stomach.Green beans! All hail! In my stomach.Feast, feast. Oh!In my stomach Mores! Al hayl!In myn  stomak!Feste, feste.O! in myn stomak.Grene benes! Al hayl!In myn  stomak!Feste, feste.O! in myn stomak.
There’s a party in my tummy.(So yummy. So yummy.)Now, there’s a party in my tummy.(So yummy. So yummy, yummy.)Now, there’s a party in my tummy.(So yummy. So yummy.)So, there’s a party in my tummy.(So yummy. So yummy, yummy.)Now, there’s a party in my tummy.

(So yummy. So yummy.)

Now, there’s a party in my tummy.

(So yummy. So yummy, yummy.)

Yummy, yummy!

I love the party in my tummy!

 

This feast is in my stomach.So good, so good.Now there is a feast in my stomach.So good, so good, good.All hail! There is a feast in my stomach.So good, so good.So there is a feast in my stomach.So good, so good, good.Now, this feast is in my stomach.So good, so good

Now there is a feast in my stomach.

So good, so good, good

Good, good!

I love this feast in my stomac

 

þis feste is ine myne stomak.So gode, so gode.Now, þis feste is ine myne stomak.So gode, so gode, gode.Now, þis feste is ine myne stomak.So gode, so gode.So, þis feste is ine myne stomak.So gode, so gode, gode.Now, þis feste is ine myn stomakSo gode, so gode.

Now, þis feste is ine myn stomak.

So gode, so gode, gode.

Gode, gode!

I love þis feste is ine myne stomak!

http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Category:Middle_English_parts_of_speech

http://www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/teams/tmsmenu.htm#w

http://www.nativlang.com/middle-english/middle-english-grammar.php

http://www.frathwiki.com/Middle_English

http://archive.org/stream/middleenglishdic00stra/middleenglishdic00stra_djvu.txt

http://www.lexilogos.com/english/english_middle.htm

King Gregor’s Private Ears

(Written when King Gregor lead his Bardic Champions on a merry rollercoaster of planning as he created ways to drag their service all the way until Pennsic…Six months more than they ought to serve….)

A Song for King Gregor’s Private Ears
(to the tune of Barrett’s Privateers)
by Aneleda

Oh, the year was AS 46,
How we long for Malaweardia….
A letter of marque came from the king,
To test the bardic champions’ spleen…

Ah zounds and all!
I was told we’d cruise the East in baldrics of gold
We’d sing our songs for all ears!
Now we’re exhausted bards (though in pretty good cheer)
Six months past our bardic year….

Oh Jeaneleda cried the town,
How we long for Malaweardia….
For all the brave performers who
would make for them a competitive crew.

Ah zounds and all!
I was told we’d cruise the East in baldrics of gold
We’d sing our songs for all ears!
Now we’re exhausted bards (though in pretty good cheer)
Six months past our bardic year….

The Champion list was a wearying sight
How we long for Malaweardia….
We’d twenty skalds put in their tags
And eight Arlecchinos dressed in rags….

Ah zounds and all!
I was told we’d cruise the East in baldrics of gold
We’d sing our songs for all ears!
Now we’re exhausted bards (though in pretty good cheer)
Six months past our bardic year….

On the King’s picked date we brought them in
How we long for Malaweardia….
We had 91 performers for the day
Keening like madmen all the way

Ah zounds and all!
I was told we’d cruise the East in baldrics of gold
We’d sing our songs for all ears!
Now we’re exhausted bards (though in pretty good cheer)
Six months past our bardic year….

On the 96th day we met again,
How we long for Malaweardia….
With Coronation now in sight
And a field of eight prepared to write…

Ah zounds and all!
I was told we’d cruise the East in baldrics of gold
We’d sing our songs for all ears!
Now we’re exhausted bards (though in pretty good cheer)
Six months past our bardic year….

They vied each for the cloth of gold,
How we long for Malaweardia….
There were fine Shakespearian turns of phrase
But to listen to them all took up two whole days

Ah zounds and all!
I was told we’d cruise the East in baldrics of gold
We’d sing our songs for all ears!
Now we’re exhausted bards (though in pretty good cheer)
Six months past our bardic year….

Then at length we stood four people away,
How we long for Malaweardia….
Cornamuse and pipes made and awful din
As we waited and longed for someone to win…

Ah zounds and all!
I was told we’d cruise the East in baldrics of gold
We’d sing our songs for all ears!
Now we’re exhausted bards (though in pretty good cheer)
Six months past our bardic year….

Four masterpieces were applied,
How we long for Malaweardia….
There were Roman boasts, and Saxon begs
And a tall Tudor bass who gave us jellied legs,

Ah zounds and all!
I was told we’d cruise the East in baldrics of gold
We’d sing our songs for all ears!
Now we’re exhausted bards (though in pretty good cheer)
Six months past our bardic year….

So here we’ve lain for over a year
How we long for Malaweardia….
It’s been sixteen months since that fated day
And we just got new Champions yesterday…

Ah zounds and all!
I was told we’d cruise the East in baldrics of gold
We’d sing our songs for all ears!
Now we’re exhausted bards (though in pretty good cheer)
Six months past our bardic year….

Yes we’re retired bards and in pretty good cheer…
(Now where’s my King’s posterior?)

O’er the Hills

Just in case the great peace of King Gregor does not hold, and Prince Kenric’s fears for a summer war come to pass, I have taken the liberty to make yet *another* set of lyrics to the traditional “O’er the hills and far away” song. I thought of all I had seen watching the battles from within and without this summer, and really, this was on my heart today.  Nov. 10, 2011

 

Chorus:

Over the Hills and o’er the plain,

Beneath the burning sun or rain,

For Eastern glory come today

Over the Hills and far away.

 

 

Muster all from northern shore

To give our foes their own what-for

We will merry take the day

Over the Hills and far away….

 

Over the Hills and o’er the plain,

Beneath the burning sun or rain,

For Eastern glory come today

Over the Hills and far away.

 

 

Come all warmed by southern sun

Battle ‘till our war is won

Together gather come-ye-may

Over the hills and far way…

 

Over the Hills and o’er the plain,

Beneath the burning sun or rain,

For Eastern glory come today

Over the Hills and far away.

 

 

War on, you brave unbelted men

With the fierceness each one ken

Where every blow you’ll twice repay

Over the hills and far way…

 

Over the Hills and o’er the plain,

Beneath the burning sun or rain,

For Eastern glory come today

Over the Hills and far away.

 

 

March on ye men of Chivalry

With honorable brutality

To take them down without delay

Over the hills and far way…

 

Over the Hills and o’er the plain,

Beneath the burning sun or rain,

For Eastern glory come today

Over the Hills and far away.

 

 

Allies bold and households brave

The way to victory you pave

Flushing out the azure tyger’s prey

Over the hills and far way…

 

Over the Hills and o’er the plain,

Beneath the burning sun or rain,

For Eastern glory come today

Over the Hills and far away.

 

 

Archers, siegefolk gather round

Rain your mayhem to the groun

O Blacken sky with your display

Over the hills and far way…

 

Over the Hills and o’er the plain,

Beneath the burning sun or rain,

For Eastern glory come today

Over the Hills and far away.

 

 

Bear the water, bring the meat

Supporters make the field complete,

With tabards, banners on display

Over the hills and far way…

 

Over the Hills and o’er the plain,

Beneath the burning sun or rain,

For Eastern glory come today

Over the Hills and far away.

 

 

Those who stand with tiger blue

Sing and yell the battle through

And our resolve will never sway

Over the hills and far way…

 

Over the Hills and o’er the plain,

Beneath the burning sun or rain,

For Eastern glory come today

Over the Hills and far away.

 

(This is the song, with different lyrics:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sAsTBcoH5sA&feature=related )

Crown Tourney List Rules List – in Gregorian Form

When the King calls, one must be always ready with an answer.

I had long ago decided, even before becoming the King’s champion, that I would be ready any time that I was asked to perform. (Thank you Coxcomb Academy!) That I would always have something up my sleeve, and that I would not refuse an opportunity or request when given one, no matter how off-guard, awkward, or surprised I might be. I have had the dubious excellent fortune to have served fine Kings who have given me ample opportunity to test my own promise to myself.

King Lucan called on me to perform without notice, quite regularly, starting with his Coronation, and so I always for him had something at the ready, or at least a thought in mind should he call upon me to serve. King Gregor has proven a canny and witty challenger and has nearly got me off my guard, especially at the fall Crown Tournament, when the above video was recorded, when he asked, in the middle of the reading of the list rules, that I sing them instead.

I have always thought that it would be a hoot to read the list rules, as a personal challenge, to see if people would listen to them, for they are indeed rote and dry.  So someone put a bug in the Brigantia Herald’s ear and I got to read them! King Gregor loomed over my shoulder as I read the first rule, and then stopped me, and, to my astonishment, asked that I sing them instead. I thought I’d had an auditory hallucination, but no, he had indeed asked me to sing them. Thankfully I didn’t stand there as slack-jawed as I felt apparently, and I replied, “Ah, well then, Your Majesty, would Gregorian suffice?” “Yes, that will do,” said His Majesty.

And so, deeply thankful for all those years as church cantor, I sang the rules of the list (with a few theatrics added). I was grateful to see that the lovely Mistress Kayeligh McWhyte had taken video of the thing as it happened, because I know it happened so quickly I scarcely remembered it. The choral “Amen” at the end just sealed it perfectly.

It will remain one of the most memorable performances I have ever had in the SCA, and the laughter of the crowd will be carried with me for many, many of the darkening days of winter. To add to the sweetness of this, Dutchess Aikaterine and Countess Althea gave me their token at the court, when the Ladies of the Rose recognize deeds they witnessed during the day. They are most often given to combatants, and so it was a great surprise to hear Althea’s musical voice speaking of the start of the day and the entertainment and cheer which the list rules brought. I am incredibly touched by that tiny golden rose, and grateful to King Gregor for giving me such an opportunity to entertain and amuse.

Below are the rules of the list, which were read and sung at Crown. I should have quizzed people later to see if they remembered them! For some reason, “No projectile weapons” is the one that sticks in my mind.

The Rules of the Lists are reprinted from Appendix B of the Corpora of the SCA.

1. Each fighter, recognizing the possibilities of physical injury to him or herself in such combat, shall assume unto himself or herself all risk and liability for harm suffered by means of such combat. No fighter shall engage in combat unless and until he or she has inspected the field of combat and satisfied himself or herself that it is suitable for combat. Other participants shall likewise recognize the risks involved in their presence on or near the field of combat, and shall assume unto themselves the liabilities thereof.

2. No person shall participate in Combat-Related Activities (including armored combat, period fencing, combat archery, scouting, and banner bearing in combat) outside of formal training sessions unless he or she shall have been properly authorized under Society and Kingdom procedures.

3. All combatants must be presented to, and be acceptable to, the Sovereign or his or her representative.

4. All combatants shall adhere to the appropriate armor and weapons standards of the Society, and to any additional standards of the Kingdom in which the event takes place. The Sovereign may waive the additional Kingdom standards.

5. The Sovereign or the Marshallate may bar any weapon or armor from use upon the field of combat. Should a warranted Marshal bar any weapon or armor, an appeal may be made to the Sovereign to allow the weapon or armor.

6. Combatants shall behave in a knightly and chivalrous manner, and shall fight according to the appropriate Society and Kingdom Conventions of Combat.

7. No one may be required to participate in Combat-Related Activities. Any combatant may, without dishonor or penalty, reject any challenge without specifying a reason. A fight in a tournament lists is not to be considered a challenge, and therefore may not be declined or rejected without forfeiting the bout.

8. Fighting with real weapons, whether fast or slow, is strictly forbidden at any Society event. This rule does not consider approved weaponry which meets the Society and Kingdom standards for traditional Society combat and/or Society period rapier combat, used in the context of mutual sport, to be real weaponry.

9. No projectile weapons shall be allowed and no weapons shall be thrown within the Lists of a tournament. The use of approved projectile weapons for melee, war, or combat archery shall conform to the appropriate Society and Kingdom Conventions of Combat.

Thus ends the Rules of the Lists. Amen.

Feeling Betta – Commedia dell Arte outline

This commedia script is my first and only to date, it was rehearsed to great amusement by Gwillim as Arlecchino, Godric as Pantalone, Margaret as Betta and myself as Dottore and the Apothecary.  We never performed it, but maybe someday it will see the stage!

Cast:
Pantalone
Betta (la servetta)
Alrecchino
Dottore
an Apothecary
Betta gives a speech to the audience about a few things: once was wealthy – but no more – she’s broke; her mother is ill and dying; she needs money; she will marry Pantalone for the money, the only other bonus is that Arlecchino, her secret love, will be near her if she marries the old man.

Pantalone enters and attempts to woo Betta from one knee – he falls over while trying to woo her and can’t get up

Betta  tells Pantalone that she has no use for a love who “can’t get up” to see her and storms off the stage

Pantalone, fallen down and unable to right himself, calls for Arlecchino who tried to help right him.

Dottore enters and seeing Arlecchino helping Pantalone up, surmises that that he has gallstones, is pregnant or must be dead.

Pantalone tells Dottore that the only problem is that he can’t get up to see Betta, who he is trying to woo.

Pantalone is sent away, assured that Dottore will have a solution.  Arlecchino is leftbehind to get orders from Dottore.

Dottore gives Arlecchino a list for wooing a lady – bread, wine, cheese and a prescription for “Consummation Powder” so he can get up to see Betta and sends him to the apothecary.  Dottore exits.

Arlecchino walks repeating his list, salivating over the food items and forgetting what kind of Powder (Consummation, …etc arriving at Constipation.)  He gets the food and the Constipation Powder for his master.

The Apothecary says that he hopes that Pantalone will soon be feeling Betta.
Arlecchino returns to Pantalone, repeating his list in reverse until he arrives again at Consummation Powder.

Arlecchino gives all the stuff to Pantalone, who enters Betta’s room and sets the stage for seduction.

Pantalone takes all of the powder.

Betta enters.  Pantalone begins to woo her – just as he gets close to her….
Arlecchino knocks on the room door, Pantalone answers (lazzo of the door locks / trip wire) to ask Pantalone how it is going; Betta leaves the room.

Pantalone, furious at the interruption, sends Arlecchino to go talk to someone in the street!  Arlecchino exits.

Pantalone resumes his seduction of Betta, who is disappointed that she missed Arlecchino.

Pantalone is enamored now – he chases Betta, catches her and there is a sudden loud rumbling – he looks astonished and agonized all at once he excuses himself loudly to the chamber pot.  Loud farting & other grotesque noises heard from off stage.

Betta leaves for another room – to get some air – in disgust.

Arlecchino goes to the street and talks to the audience about Betta & the mountain of food (lazzo of the fly or the eating of the hand)

Dottore enters in a temper – he has been to the apothecary and found out that Arlecchino gave Pantalone the wrong powder!  Dottore gives Arlecchino the correct powder and threatens to beat him with his own stick.

Arlecchino runs away, swearing that he will return after this errand!

Betta and Pantalone re-enter Betta’s room – they are just about getting amorous when Pantalone’s stomach gives another fierce rumble – this time he knows what is about to happen and he excuses himself loudly to the chamber pot.  Loud farting & other grotesque noises heard from off stage.

Arlecchino goes to Betta’s room and pounds on the door. (Lazzo of the door locks, again)

Betta allows Arlecchino in and Arlecchino blurts his story out and displays the correct powder.

Betta tells him that she will make it all Betta…and as Arlecchino, laments about the powder and all the food going to waste she very obviously covers the bread with the Consummation Powder.

Betta feigning innocence and sorrow tells Arlecchino that he can have the food, as it seems that his master won’t be needing it, but the he should go and eat it there in the back room.

Arlecchino looks delighted and bounds out merrily chewing on the bread while singing Betta’s praises, and the bread’s praises, for feeding him.

Betta begins to exit the same way as Arlecchino, but before leaving, turns to the audience and gives them a winning smile.  Arlecchino says that this bread is really something – he’s never felt this way about bread! (“Well, there was that nice rosemary olive bagette once, but that was ages ago…”)

A last loud fart is heard offstage.

The End