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Adapted to modern English by Ian Borden
First produced by Revelry Theatre on Grandville Island in Vancouver, Canada, 1991
Cast –
Coll: Terry Sherbino Gib: Graham Shiels Daw: Art Kitching Mak: Ian Borden Gill: Cyndi Janzen
Directed by: Ian Borden and Cyndi Janzen
[The open fields.]
Coll. Lord but this weather is cold, and I am ill wrapped. Near numb, were truth told, so long have I napped: My legs bend and fold, my fingers are chapped. It is not as I would, for I am all lapped In sorrow. In storms and tempest, Now in the east, now in the west, Woe is him has never rest Mid-day nor morrow.
But we simple shepherds that walk on the moor, In faith, we are near-hands out of the door. No wonder, as it stands, if we be poor, For the tilth of our lands lies as fallow as the floor, As ye ken. We are so lamed, Overtaxed and shamed, Me are made hand-tamed By these gentry-men.
Thus they rob us of rest, our Lady them harry! These men that are Lord-fast, they cause the plow tarry. That, men say, is for the best: we find it contrary. Thus are husbandmen oppressed, in point to miscarry In life.
Thus hold they us under, Thus bring us to blunder, It were great wonder, If ever we should thrive.
Get a man a painted sleeve or a brooch, nowadays, Woe is him that grieves, or once him gainsays! Dare no man him reprieve, what mastery he may: And yet none believe one word that he says, No letter.
He can make good purveyance, With boasting and bragance: And all through the maintenance Of men who are greater.
My part have I found, Learned my lesson sound: Woe to him who is bound, For he must it abide.
But now late in our lives, a marvel to me, That I think my heart rives such wonders to see: That which destiny drives should so be; Some men will have two wives, and some men three, In store: Some are grieved that have any, But I wager a penny Woe is him that has many, For he feels sore.
But, young men of wooing, for so God us wrought, Beware well of wedding, and hold well in thought: "Had I known" is a thing that serveth of nought. Much constant mourning has wedding home brought, And grief, With many a sharp shower: For thou mayst catch in an hour What shall savour full sour As long as thou lives.
For as ever I read epistle, I have one by the fire, As sharp as a thistle, as rough as a briar. She is browed like a bristle, with a sour face dire. Had she once wet her whistle she could sing like a choir Her paternoster. She is as great as a whale, She has a gallon of gall: By him that died for us all, I would I had run till I lost her.
Coll : Gib, look over the row! Full deafly you stand.
Gib: Yea, the devil in thy maw, so tarrying! Saw'st thou aught of Daw?
Coll: Yea, on the lea-land I heard him blow. He comes near at hand, Not far. Stand still.
Gib:
Why?
Coll : For he comes, think I.
Gib: He will beguile us with a lie Unless we beware.
[Daw enters.]
Daw: Christ's cross me speed, and Saint Nicholas! Thereof had I need: it is worse than it was. Who knows should take heed and let the world pass: It is ever in dread and brittle as glass, And sleeps. This world never fared so: The marvels greater grow, Now in weal, now in woe, And everything weeps.
Never since Noah's flood have such floods been seen, Winds and rains so rude, and storms so keen: Some stammered, some stood in doubt, as I ween. Now God turn all to good! I say as I mean, For ponder: These floods so drown, Both in fields and in town, They bear all down: And that is a wonder.
We that walk in the nights our cattle to keep, We see fearful sights when other men sleep. Yet my heart grows light: I see rascals a-peep; Ye are two true men. I will give my sheep A turn. But full ill have I meant, As I walk on this bent, I may lightly repent My toes if I spurne.
Ah, sir, God you save, and master mine! A drink would I have and somewhat to dine.
Coll: Christ's curse, my knave, thou art a lazy hind!
Gib:
So I thought as I stood, to cheer us along.
Daw: I too, grant.
Coll: The tenor will I try.
Gib: And I the treble so high.
Daw: Then the middle falls to me. Let see how ye chant.
[They sing. Mak enters.]
Mak: Now Lord, by thy name that made both stars and moon, More than I can speak thy will, Lord I am undone, I am all uneven, I am moved to swoon, Would God I might in heaven dwell, for there no children croon, So shrill.
Coll: Who is't that pipes so poor?
Mak: That should I have asked you before. Lo, a man that walks on the moor, And hast not all his will.
Gib: Mak, where hast thou gone? Tell us tidings.
Daw: Is he come? Then take heed each to his things.
Mak: I be a yeoman, I tell you, of the king, The self and the same. A Lord’s message I bring - No lie.
[Daw moves to take Mak's cloak.]
Fie on you! Go hence Out of my prescence! I must have reverence. Why, who be I?
Coll: Why make it so quaint? Mak, you do wrong.
Gib: Shall we call you a saint? For that do you long?
Daw: With words the shrew can paint, the devil might him hang!
Mak: I shall make complaint: ye will be beaten ere long, At a word, And tell even how ye doth.
Coll: But, Mak, is that sooth? Now take out that haughty tooth, And set in a turd!
Gib: Mak, the devil in your eye! A stroke would I lend you.
Daw: Mak, know ye not me? By God, I could beat you!^1
Mak: God keep you, all three! Methought I had seen you. Ye are a fair company.
Coll: Now ye remember mean you?
Gib: No lies! When thus late a man goes, What will folks suppose? Ye have a bad name. God knows, For stealing of sheep.
Mak: That I am true as steel, all men can state, But a sickness I feel that holds me full hot, My belly lacks a meal, it is out of state.
Daw:
(^1) A scuffle may have been staged here.
As any of you.
[They lie down.]
But, Mak, come hither, the space between us shalt take.
Mak: Then might I keep you from staying awake.
Daw: Better thus to be hindered and know ye are nigh.
No dread. From my top to my toe, Manus tuas commendo, Poncio Pilato. Christ's cross me speed!
[He rises.]
Now were time for a man that lacks what he would To stalk privily then unto a fold, And nimbly to work then, and be not too bold, For he might abuy the bargain, if it were told At the ending. Now were time for to revel; But he needs good counsel That fain would fare well, And has but little spending.
[Mak casts a spell.]
Put about you a circle as round as the moon, Till I have done what I will, until it be noon, That ye lie stone still until I have done And thes few good words shall I croon: On height: Over your heads my hand I lift, Out go your eyes, forgo thy sight. But yet I must make better shift And it be right.
Lord, but they sleep hard. Like you who lie here Never yet was I shepherd, but I’ll soon be without peer. If the flock be scared yet shall I nip near. How, draw hitherward!
[He seizes a sheep.]
Now mends our cheer From sorrow. A fat sheep, I dare say, A good fleece, dare I lay. When I can, I'll repay, But this will I borrow.
[Mak leaves with the sheep.]
[Mak's Cottage.]
Mak: How, Gill, art thou in? Get us some light.
Gill : Who makes such din this time of night? I've sat down to spin: I doubt a penny I might Gain getting up again: I curse them on high! So fares A housewife that has been Bothered 'twixt and between. Here may no note be seen For such small chores.
Mak: Good wife, open the door. See you not what I bring?
Gill: I will let you come indoors.
[Mak opens door.]
Ah, come in my sweeting
Mak: You care not for my long standing.
Gill: By the naked neck are you like to be hanging.
Mak: Away! I am worth my meat, For in a strait can I get More than they that toil and sweat All the long day.
Gill : Now well is that day bright That saw me born and bred!
This is a good guise and a far cast: Ever a woman's advice helps at the last. We never know who spies: go you back fast.
Mak: I must come ere they rise, else blows a cold blast! I will go sleep.
[He returns to the shepherds.]
Yet sleep these fools many, And I shall slip in privily, As if it had never been I That carried their sheep.
[The open fields]
Coll: Resurrex a mortruis! Take hold a hand! Judas carnus dominus! I may not well stand: My foot sleeps, by Jesus: my mouth feels like sand. I thought we laid us full near England.
Gib: Ah, ye! Lord, but I have slept well! As fresh as an eel, As light I do feel As leaf on a tree.
Daw: A blessing within! So my heart quakes My heart from my skin, so far it makes Who makes all this din? So my brow aches To the door will I win. Hark, fellows, wake! We were four: See ye aught of Mak now?
Coll: We were up ere thou.
Gib: [sees Mak.]
Man, to God I vow, He's yet gone nowhere.
Daw: Methought he was wrapped in a wolf's skin.
Coll : So many are wrapped now, namely within.
Daw: When we had long napped, methought with a gin A fat sheep he trapped: but he made no din.
Gib: Be still: Thy dream makes thee woed: It is but phantom by the rood.
Coll: Now God turn all to good, If it be his will.
Gib: Rise, Mak, for shame! Thou lies right long.
Mak: Now Christ's holy name be us among! What is this? By Saint James, I can’t walk along. I trust I be the same. Ah, my neck has lain wrong Enough.
[The shepherds help Mak up.]
Many thanks! Since yester-even, Now by Saint Stephen, I was so afraid of a dream My heart jumped my skin through.
I thought Gill began to croak and travail full sad, Well-nigh at the first cock, she bore a young lad To add to our flock. Then be I never glad. All I have is trouble in hand. Ah, my head! Too many children I’ve gained; The devil knock out their brains! Woe is him that has many bairns And has but little bread.
I must go home, by your leave, to Gill, as I thought.
Naught but leisure she takes, and scrtaches her toes.
Gill: Why, who works and who wakes? Who comes, who goes? Who brews, who bakes? Who makes me this hose? And then It is sad to behold, Now in hot, now in cold, Full woeful the household That wants a woman.
But what end hast thou made with the shepherds, Mak?
Mak: The last word they said when I turned my back, They would look that they had their sheep, all the pack. They will not be pleased when they their sheep lack, By God! But so how the game goes, To me they will I suppose, And make a foul noise, And cry out upon me.
But thou must do as thou said.
Gill : I accord me there till. I shall swaddle him right in my cradle. Were it a greater trick, yet could I play ill. I will lie down straight. Come cover me.
Mak: I will.
[He does so.]
Gill: Behind! Come Coll and his mates, They'll pinch us straight.
Mak: But I’ll cry to the fates If the sheep they find.
Gill : Hark now when they call; they will come anon. Come and make ready all, and sing by thine own, Sing lullay thou shall, for I must groan
And cry out by the wall on Mary and John Full sore. Sing lullay full fast When thou hear at the last. And but I play a false cast, Trust me no more.
[The Crooked Thorn]
Daw: Ah, Coll, good morn! Why sleepest thou not?
Coll: Alas that ever I was born! We have a foul blot. A fat sheep we have lorn.
Daw: God forbid, that it’s not!
Gib: Who should do us this scorn? That were a foul spot.
Coll: Some shrew. I have searched with my dogs Every field and shrog, And of fifteen hogs Found I but one ewe.
Daw: Now trust me, if you will, by Saint Thomas of Kent, Either Mak or Gill our sheep from us rent.
Coll : Peace, man, be still! I saw when he went. Thou slander’s him ill: you ought to repent With good speed.
Gib: Now as ever I might see If he should never here be, I would say it were he That did that same deed.
Daw: Then off we go thither, be brisk on our feet.
Mak: But are ye in town today? Now how fare ye?
Ye have run in the mire, and now are all wet: I shall make you a fire, if ye will sit. A nurse would I hire. Think ye on it, My wages paid, no liar: my dream, this is it: My new possession. I have bairns, if ye knew, Well more than a few: But we must drink as we brew, And that is but reason.
Would ye dine ere ye walk the road? Methinks that ye sweat.
Gib: Nah, neither mends our mode, not drink nor meat.
Mak: Why, sir, alas, you are not good?
Daw: Our sheep is gone yet, Stolen all be told. Our loss is great.
Mak: Sirs, drink! Had I been there, Some should have bought it full sore.
Coll: Marry, some say that you were, And that makes us think.
Gib: Mak, some men believe that it must have been thee.
Daw: Either ye or your spouse, so say we.
Mak: Now if ye have suspicion of Gill or of me, Come and search our house, and then may ye see Who had her. No sheep have I brought,
Neither heifer nor goat, And Gill, my wife, rose not, Here since she laid her.
As I am true and loyal, to God, here I pray That this be the first meal I shall eat this day.
Coll: Mak, as I want for good weal, advise you, I say: He learned timely to steal that could not say nay.
[The shepherds begin to search.]
Gill: I die! Out, thieves, from my home, You've come to rob us, then be gone.
Mak: Hear ye not how she groans? Your hearts should melt!
Gill : Out thieves, from my bairn. Go not to him more.
Mak: How she has fared this morn: your hearts should be sore. Ye do wrong, I you warn, that comes thus before A woman that has borne: but I say no more.
Gill: Ah, my middle! I pray to God so mild, If ever I you beguiled May I eat the child That lies in this cradle.
Mak: Peace, woman, for God's pain, and cry not so! Thou spillest thy brain and make me feel woe.
Gib: I believe our sheep be slain. What find ye two?
Daw: All work we in vain: we may as well go. Save a few tatters, I can find no flesh, Hard nor nesh,
