To the Wood We Go

“This is my take on the classic hunter and hind trope, which we all know to be really about ladies, love and mystical experiences (and in some songs, more earthly experiences too.) In this song, the king’s man and the king’s Lady find themselves in the realm that passes through the King’s forest, which may be ultimately to their salvation.”

The king’s man took into the wood
to catch some coneys, fleet and good
with his dogs a-running o’re the ground
so swiftly that there was no sound.

The king’s man saw from out his eye
a flash of gold a-bounding by.
It was a stag with antlers tall,
surely the lord of wood stags all.

He left his hounds in thicket green
to catch this creature he had seen
to lay at his belov’d queen’s feet
its golden pelt and fragrant meat.

With a hey ho
to the wood we go
for to catch him with the bolt and bow.
With a hey hei
watch him fly
as the lord of the wood we follow.

The king’s Lady on her palfrey white
went a-riding in the sunshine bright.
Through the flowers and past the bees,
o’re the path between great trees.

Gently on she softly tread,
wandering where her fancy lead,
when came a sound upon the trail
as doe of silver past did sail.

To see the doe made her heart bloom
and so she took off through the broom
to touch with her own gentle hand
this hind most lovely in the land.

With a hey ho
to the wood we go
to see the hart in the summer’s glow.
With a hey hei
watch them fly
as through the wood we follow.

Into a clearing verdant green
the golden stag ran, clearly seen.
The silver doe, she met his stride
as the Lady and king’s man did ride.

The king’s man poised to bring them down
as gift to serve before the crown.
The Lady saw his bolt on high
and ran ‘ere he could let it fly.

Though swift, he fumbled and it flew,
and met its mark as it would do.
The lady’s hands rushed to her breast
where now the bolt did redly rest.

With a hey ho
to the wood we go
though the hunt we now forgo.
With a hey hei
watch them fly
as into the wood we follow.

The man looked where the Lady fell
amid the leaves of mossy dell,
her hair as auburn as the pine
her blood as red as ruby wine.

The the golden hind lifted her head,
and then his sliver lady lead
the king’s good man unto her side
to pull the bolt before she died.

He winced to cause her any pain,
but bowed to the great creatures’ reign.
He tore the wounding arrow through,
and breaking, broke his heart in two.

With a hey ho
to the wood we go
to find them in a thicket low.
With a hey hei
watch them fly
as into the wood we follow.

The silver one did kiss the wound
as the Lady weakly swooned.
The golden lord did nudge the man
to listen as her breath began.

With his queen, living, in his arms,
the king’s man fled the clearing’s charms.
At the palfrey’s side his charger ran
from this kingdom not of man.

The mighty stag walked with his mate
deep through the woods with steady gait.
The royal forest quiet lay
in the glowing of the day.

With a hey ho
to the wood we go
to the realm of stag and merry doe.
With a hey hei
watch them fly
as into the wood we follow.

The Introverted Spouse

“Many a SCAdian partnership is made of the noble and patient Introverted Spouse paired with a gregarious, social lunatic.  At least that’s what my relationship is like, but this song to the quiet ones has brought many a grin of recognition around a campfire. Also, I AM really lucky to have exactly this Lord, as described below, to take care of me and let me play the game the way I enjoy without killing myself.”

http://www.mbouchard.com/misc/Introverted-Spouse.mp3

Sing ho sing hey
it’s good to make your house
sing fa la lay
with an introverted spouse

my lord is somewhat bookish
which is quite plain to see
I run about with my head cut off
while he sips on his tea
but when I’m back at half-past-twelve
in the bitter cold of night
the bed is warm and so am I
for he makes all things right!

my lord reads at the table
so he’d seldom miss a meal
but I’ve forgotten dinner
till the telltale rumble feel
wearily I wander home
thinking of a crust of bread
but my love has saved a bounty meal
for me to have instead!

my lord craves not attention
though attention he deserves
when I’m causing  a ruckus
he has no reserves
were I to list his merits
we would be here for a week
so I content myself to know
and to sing instead of speak…

Sing ho sing hey
it’s good to make your house
sing fa la lay
with an introverted spouse

Death Holds a Rapier – Ode to Jean du Montagne

“This song is one about my dear friend and merry minstrel partner-in-crime, Jean.”

http://www.mbouchard.com/misc/death-holds-a-rapier.mp3

If you are a rogue, a cad, a knave
I do not envy you
who would malign his captain
or insult his lady true
For I see your doom approaching
if that is who you are
in on hand death holds a rapier
in the other a guitar

If you are a rogue, a cad, a knave
then wary should you be
for there is a man among us
who fights with grand esprit
Honor does become him
know when you say “au rivoir”
in one hand death holds a rapier
in the other a guitar

If you are a rogue, a cad, a knave
who he has come to slay
you may hear a distant singing
that quickly comes your way
it is to give you warning
final thoughts for your memoir
in one hand death holds a rapier
in the other a guitar

If you are a rogue, a cad, a knave
polite while cavalier
if you honor king and lady then
you have nothing to fear
you may earn a throbbing headache
if you challenge him to spar
in one hand death holds a pint mug
in the other a guitar

you may earn a throbbing headache
if you challenge him to spar
for you’ll fill many a pint glass
as he plays on his guitar

Jean gets his OGRE
Jean gets his OGRE, and this song is for him on that day!

Every Man May Be A King, A SCAdian Lullaby

“I wrote this song for my son when he was very, very little.  It would be, however, that he hated being sung to sleep, so I’ve never actually sang it to him as intended, save once when he was too sick to protest.”

This song is featured on the CD “I Am of the North” available for purchase online at: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aneledafalconbridge

close your eyes my little boy
dream of running, dream of joy
and listen to the truth I sing
Every man may be a King
Every man may be a King

the pauper lad in tattered cloak
the vintner boy who corks the the oak
the tavern lass who stirs the broth
and merchant’s son who cuts the cloth

if their duties they each mind
then a Knight may choose to bind
to his service their working hands
be they yet too small for lands

so
close your eyes my little boy
dream of running, dream of joy
and listen to the truth I sing
Every man may be a King
Every man may be a King

taking up the gallant sword
holding close the heavy board
roads to tourneys long they roam
defending honor of their home

final battle, one to one
of the two the victor comes
to rule the land in peaceful war
as did the kings and queens of yore

so
close your eyes my little boy
dream of running, dream of joy
and listen to the truth I sing
Every man may be a King
Every man may be a King

though now you at your mother cling
someday you may be a King.

The Twelve Days of Pennsic

The Twelve Days of Pennsic , an almost very nearly true story in the vein of The Taming of the Shrew, a duet by Aneleda Falkonbridge & Riordan Morgan.  (And this was before I even knew that I was a delicate flower of the northern army!)

*  *  *  *  *

On the first day of Pennsic, my Riordan gave to me:  An olive wood rosary!

On the second day of Pennsic, Aneleda gave to me:  two short replies
and an olive wood rosary

On the third day of Pennsic, my Riordan gave to me:  three yards of trim
two short replies
and an olive wood rosary

On the fouth day of Pennsic, Aneleda gave to me:  four scathing remarks
three yards of trim
two short replies
and an olive wood rosary

On the fifth day of Pennsic, my Riordan gave to me:  five pewter cups!
four scathing remarks
three yards of trim
two short replies
and an olive wood rosary

On the sixth day of Pennsic, Aneleda gave to me:  six dirty looks
five pewter cups!
four scathing remarks
three yards of trim
two short replies
and an olive wood rosary

On the seventh day of Pennsic, my Riordan gave to me:  seven sparkling stones
six dirty looks
five pewter cups!
four scathing remarks
three yards of trim
two short replies
and an olive wood rosary

On the eighth day of Pennsic, Aneleda gave to me:  eight small bruises
seven sparkling stones
six dirty looks
five pewter cups!
four scathing remarks
three yards of trim
two short replies
and an olive wood rosary

On the ninth day of Pennsic, my Riordan gave to me:  nine pilgrim tokens
eight small bruises
seven sparkling stones
six dirty looks
five pewter cups!
four scathing remarks
three yards of trim
two short replies
and an olive wood rosary

On the tenth day of Pennsic, Aneleda gave to me: ten shin kicks
nine pilgrim tokens
eight small bruises
seven sparkling stones
six dirty looks
five pewter cups!
four scathing remarks
three yards of trim
two short replies
and an olive wood rosary

On the eleventh day of Pennsic, my Riordan gave to me:  eleven leather roses
ten shin kicks
nine pilgrim tokens
eight small bruises
seven sparkling stones
six dirty looks
five pewter cups!
four scathing remarks
three yards of trim
two short replies
and an olive wood rosary

On the twelth day of Pennsic, Aneleda gave to me:  twelve sturdy blows
eleven leather roses
ten shin kicks
nine pilgrim tokens
eight small bruises
seven sparkling stones
six dirty looks
five pewter cups!
four scathing remarks
three yards of trim
two short replies
and an olive wood rosary