I am of the North

“As the Pennsic War nears, we all prepare for battle. This post appeared after the war practice at Sommer Draw in early June, posted by Master Angus Kerr Pembridge. Being Northern, it had no small effect on my spirits, and so I wrote a song inspired by his words.”
This song is featured on the CD “I Am of the North” available for purchase online at: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aneledafalconbridge

I am of the North.
My soul sings in the Winter Wind.
My blade was quenched in the snow.
No soft Southern Sun warmed my crib.
War is coming. The Northern Banners Raise high.
My Brothers gather, our weapons gleaming in the Sun.
And all, all gathered, say the same thing. “I am of the North.”
(Master Angus Pembridge)

*   *   *   *   *   *

If you would find honor
look toward Polaris.
War it is coming; our banners raise high.
As Brothers we gather, our weapons gleaming
And all who are gathered,
say the same thing.
“I am of the North”

My soul sings in the Winter Wind.
It tears through the mountains
as we through the foe.
The winter wind calls
and my brothers come join her
she carries their voices where we are to go.

If you would find honor look toward Polaris…

No soft Southern Sun warmed my crib.
I was born in a blizzard,
first steps on the frost.
My first lullaby
was a warsong of glory
and the snapping of banners by the wind tossed.

If you would find honor look toward Polaris…

My blade was quenched deep in snow.
Brought from the fire
it blazed red as sun.
Bitterly plunged into
winter’s cold scabbard
it craves the blood that o’re it shall run.

If you would find honor look toward Polaris…

War is upon us, our banners rise.
Bear up your weapons,
hear the wind call.
We move toward the warm lands
where together we conquer,
“I am of the North” sing each and all.

If you would find honor look toward Polaris…

Thank you Angus!

The Broken Towers

Listen to this song here, at http://mbouchard.com/misc/broken-towers.mp3

A knight went a riding on the finest of days
never to think of fate’s fickle ways.
He sang a sweet song as he rode through the wood
the day had portents of nothing but good.

But deep in the forest came a scent on the breeze
of fire and danger, unseen through the trees.
It came from village, his castle, his keep
where he had just that morn left his lady asleep.

He turned round his charger and blew loud the horn.
He tore ore the thickets and jumped ore the thorn.
He near broke his mount with his spurs in her side
to beat the flames like thunder he’d ride

Beneath the bright sky of impossible blue
the sky was now colored an impossible hue.
The keep had been broken the great towers were down;
his squires were all dead and the place held no sound.

Heedless of all, he charged through the gate
until he found his lady he would not abate.
He found her struck mute by the sights she had seen
in the courtyard garden, grey o’re the green.

She wore fine silver ashes instead of a gown.
She wore broken windows in place of her crown.
She looked right through him as he lifted her high.
She did not once move, or utter a sigh.

The knight tried all the things that the stories do tell
from magical apples to the life-giving well.
The gifts she ignored and the glass pushed away,
for her madness kept in her the fear of that day.

She built a wide fortress inside of her heart
with stones o’re the gate, and no weakening art.
She dug it in deep, and moved below the earth
living as dead alone in that dark berth.

At last the brave man built o’re every door
and changed all the standards to gules from bright or.
He had given his oath to care for his wife,
and so planted a garden to surround her with life.

His lady did die in her fortress so cold.
His love could not reach her, no matter how bold.
He had done what he could, and is spotless of blame.
He mourned her with candles, and wept at the flame.

The wound still aches hotly when the smoke fills the air,
though nothing is burning, he senses it there.
When he hears the sweet tune he was singing that day
in spite of himself, he is carried away.

Oh would I could bring him some succor and peace,
A balm or a salve that could make his pain cease.
Do not succumb to your dear lady’s fate,
For a garden grows richly outside your estate.

I cannot bring back the castle or rebuild his keep
I have only my voice to lullay him to sleep.
But I will protect him, his sorrows allay
So rest, sweet knight, slumber and dream of the day.

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.

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

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