The Tale of Titus

THIS, THIS is what happens when you issue a challenge to a bard girl when she is grumpy over something unrelated. YOU may become the VICTIM of CREATIVITY.

Just like Titus.

Let this be a cautionary tale to the rest of you.

You can listen to the 3-am draft-singing-at-my-desk recording here. It’s rough, but it’s here…You can even learn it and sing it whenever you see Titus. I’m sure he’d love it. He’s a Roman. They like attention. (This tune may change before you hear me actually sing it live, but the chorus will stay the same. Promise.)

Now the Romans they are noted for their finely pav-ed roads
And they have given us a history and conquered those in woads
They did this wearing dresses and with fine, delicate shoes,
and showed if you fight a Roman, you’ll very likely lose.

Among these warrior people a man stands on his own
he wears a carven chest plate, and strong legs with lovely tone
Known better by his charming smile than even his name
Once you’ve met Titus Claudius, you’ll never be the same.

Oh he’s a lover and a fighter
a healer and a thief
He’ll own a heart a strongly
as a noble holds a fief
He’ll blush just like a maiden
then deliver a coy wink
don’t under estimate the Romans,
for they’re smarter than you think.

It’s true he wears a tunic and walks with his legs bare
And like all the good Roman boys he neatly trims his hair
He boasts with the best of them…when a sword is in his hand
Ask the ladies who hang at the field – he’s known throughout the land

Oh he’s a lover and a fighter
a healer and a thief
He’ll own a heart a strongly
as a noble holds a fief
He’ll blush just like a maiden
then deliver a coy wink
don’t under estimate the Romans,
for they’re smarter than you think.

He is always quick to offer a cup of Roman wine
And with the glass a compliment to make a lady shine
His hands are quick to offer, with a kiss when they are clasped,
And two arms to firmly rescue those who’ve fainted as he passed.

Oh he’s a lover and a fighter
a healer and a thief
He’ll own a heart a strongly
as a noble holds a fief
He’ll blush just like a maiden
then deliver a coy wink
don’t under estimate the Romans,
for they’re smarter than you think.

He’ll lay hands on a shoulder that was recently at war
with one tender touch it’s obvious those hands were meant for more
as he soothes away the aches and pains in body and in soul
To be injured for his healing could soon become a goal…

Oh he’s a lover and a fighter
a healer and a thief
He’ll own a heart a strongly
as a noble holds a fief
He’ll blush just like a maiden
then deliver a coy wink
don’t under estimate the Romans,
for they’re smarter than you think.

Oh he’s a lover and a fighter
a healer and a thief
He’ll own a heart a strongly
as a noble holds a fief
He’ll blush just like a maiden
then deliver a coy wink
don’t under estimate the Romans,
for they’re smarter than you think.

 

 

 

 ps) there you go Serena! And thanks Laurie!

The March Home

A challenge was given to write a on the topic of coming home from war. While we all know we mean Pennsic, I chose to take the perspective of a Roman legionary who is returning to his own lands, on the long march, seeming longer every day the closer he is to home, walking on the red roads home after brutal battles. The tune is inspired by an actual Roman melody, adapted for this use. The chords, played on harp, would have been appropriate.  The song from which my melody is culled is entitled XVIII and was preformed by Musica Romana.

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

Dum spiramus tuebimur (While we breathe, we shall defend.)
Long has the march on the red road gone.
When again, when shall I see my home?
Dum vivimus, vivamus. (While we live, let us live.)

I wear my tunica woven of wool
though blood and sweat
now stain it through
Filth, smoke and battle have colored its trim
Dulce bellum inexpertis (War is sweet for those who have not experienced it.)

Beneath my lorica, over my heart
is the palla that smelled
of my wife’s hair
I have carried her love with me over long roads
Hic habitat felicitas (Here lives happiness.)

Dum spiramus tuebimur
Long has the march on the red road gone.
When again, when shall I see my home?
Dum vivimus, vivamus.

I carry three fibulae on my best cloak
Bought from a place
I have long forgot
Two for my sons cast like lion’s claws
Natura, artis magistra (nature, the mistress of art)

My caligae ruined, my cingulum weighs
I desire my farm,
my bare feet in soil.
Soon I will leave my pilae for my plow
Nulla vit melior quan bona. (There is no life better than a good life.)

Dum spiramus tuebimur
Long has the march on the red road gone.
When again, when shall I see my home?
Dum vivimus, vivamus.

When shall I lay in my courtyard green?
I long to drink
my vinyard’s wine.
Wrest with my sons, make love to my wife
Et nos cedamus amori. (Let us too surrender to love.)

Dum spiramus tuebimur
Long has the march on the red road gone.
When again, when shall I see my home?
Dum vivimus, vivamus.

Flavian Roman Hair

recreated Flavian hairdo

My friend and fellow Endeweardian Lord Sprvivs Flavius asked me to be his consort in the fall Crown Tourney of AS45.  I agreed, but I’m not Roman, and didn’t know much about how to be Roman, especially in northern Vermont in late October.  (brrr!)

I managed Roman garb with a wool-blend underdress and a wool piece used as a peplos-like item, but decided that what I really wanted was ROMAN HAIR.  Like THIS:

 

Portrait Bust of a Flavian Woman
Portrait Bust of a Flavian Woman
Flavian woman, bust
Flavian bust from side.

So I practiced.  First attempt was hair, fake hair (well, the Romans used *real* fake hair) attached to a diadem-like thing.  Total disaster. There is just no way to make that look good.  My second attempt at attaching made me go for the glue gun in desperation.  That’s not good either.  The thing was weird, heavy, unwieldy and ugly as sin.

So, enter attempt two.  Back to the eighties!  The 1980s.  I pulled my hair up in a high ponytail and poofed it the way I did back in Jr. High. Lo!  It kind of worked!  Alessandra came over to supervise and entertain, and we came up with this:

recreated Flavian hairdo
The Flavian re-do, live, and on my head.

The morning of Crown, I got up, pulled the front part of my hair on top of my head and pinned it there.  Using a curling iron on damp hair (the Romans had curling irons! Seriously!) I put the top part into ringlets with very light spray, and then put a hair-ribbon in my hair, and braided and clipped the rest up. I added a large false braid in the back to be like the large bun I’d seen in the statuary.  We pinned in a veil because it looked more right, and more like the portraits of Roman women which were painted and not sculpted, and it worked remarkably well!

women standing near a lake
Flavian hair, blurry, but big!
SCA roman couple
Aneleda, her hairdo, and Sprivis process at the EK Crown Tourney.

 

Now, did I have a single photo of this hair? No. Of course not. Not a close shot, and the day was windy, so it looks wild in every photo.  But I did wear it and looked a reasonably decent Roman lady.  And I was toasty warm!  So it was a very Good Hair Day!