1. THE ANGLO-SAXON PERIOD (to ca. 1485)O PERÍODO ANGLO-SAXÃO

 The territory was a Roman province around the Vth century. It Suffered three invasions: The Saxons , the Vikings and the Normands. The Saxons: Came from where now is Germany, Denmark and Holland. They spoke many dialects and had a tribal organization. To cathecize them, the catholic church sent a misssionary in597 and from them on monestaries became centers of culture and the propagation of faith. The Vikings. Inhabitants of Denmark, Sweden and Norway invaded England and terrorized the population destroying the monasteries and its culture. In 878 the Saxon King Alfred had a peace treaty with the Vikings and so in the Xth. Century England was ONE nation having ONE Royal House and One religion only : ‘Catholicism’. They also spoke One language- the King’s English in which documents were written. The literary production was registered in vernacles. The Normands – 1066. Coming from the North of France, made French the language of the nobility, even though Latin remained the language of the clergy. The imaginary writer could be reading inLatin, French or English.This reader would read a manuscript in a loud voice in public. They would quote and sing. But what could they read? 

·       Productions of monasteries like “The Venerable Bede (673 –735) who produced The Ecclesiastical History of the English People ( finished in731).·       Poets like Caedmon and Cynewulf (old English) who wrote verses on the new and old testemony and on Christian Saints.·       A manuscript of an epic probably composed around 700 called Beowulf

 Poetry in the anglo-saxon period

BEOWULF VIII centuryHero of an Scandinavian tribe, his story takes place at a far distant place and time from the audience of the VIIth. Century. In the poem the conflict is between man and evil, symbolised in the destructive force of the monster that Beowulf faces and has to defy. In the end the monster kills him. The poem reveals the Saxon sensibility and a people with a strong sense of community. This people praised their Lords and their warriors, as is shown in the epic poem.Other literary options have to bear in mind the year 1066 and the Norman invasion. From then on the French dialect has a key place in society. It is in this language that poets will write to please the nobles. Therefore “The romanescs” become common to be recited in court. From this period we have ‘The Arthurian Circle’, in which the adventures of king Arthur and the round table are famous and popular. Arthur being a Celt had originally come from France to England.

BEOWULF  (excerpt)  “Hold  them now, Earth,   now hand of man cannot, 

A great tribe’s treasures.   Truly, from you Brave men first got them;   battle-death has taken, Murderous fighting,   the men, one and all, Peers of my people:   they have passed from this life, Rest from hall-joys.   None remains with me To bear the sword,   burnish the rich goblet, Costly drinking-cup;   the company has gone elsewhere. Now the hard helmet,   hammered with gold, Must be stripped of its plating;   the polishers sleep Who once made bright    those grim battle-masks; Also the armor,   which endured in battle, Mid breaking of shields,   the bite of swords, Rots with the warrior.   The ringed-corslet May not wander far   on the war-chief’s path, At the soldier’s side.   The harp is silent, No glad music sounds,   nor any good hawk Sweeps through the hall,   nor swift hoofbeats Drum in the courtyard.   Death-qualm has sent- I will many a folk    forth on their way.” Study of the poem: 1.Number the verses in the excerpt. 

BEOWULF  (excerpt) 

 A) “Hold  them now, Earth,   now hand of man cannot, A great tribe’s treasures.   B) Truly, from you Brave men first got them;   battle-death has taken, Murderous fighting,   the men, one and all, Peers of my people:   they have passed from this life, Rest from hall-joys.   C)None remains with me Ninguém sobrou To bear the sword,   burnish the rich goblet, Para empunhar a espada, polir o cálice Costly drinking-cup;   the company has gone elsewhere. Tão cara; foi-se a companhia D) Now the hard helmet,   hammered with gold, Agora o capacete, de ouro feito  Must be stripped of its plating;   the polishers sleep Terá suas jóias roubadas, os polidores dormem Who once made bright    those grim battle-masks; Aqueles que poliam as risonhas máscaras Also the armor,   which endured in battle, Também a armadura, que suportou a batalha 

Mid breaking of shields,   the bite of swords, Foram quebrados os escudos, por golpes de espadas Rots with the warrior. Apodrecem com o guerreiro   E)The ringed-corslet A malha May not wander far   on the war-chief’s path, Que nem chegou a vestir aqueles que saiam para a batalha At the soldier’s side.   The harp is silent, Ao lado do soldado, silenciosa a harpa No glad music sounds,   nor any good hawk Não há som de alegria, nem o falcão Sweeps through the hall,   nor swift hoofbeats Voa mais pelos salões,  nem os trotados do cavalos Drum in the courtyard. Tamborilam no jardim   F) Death-qualm has sent- A passagem da morte I will many a folk    forth on their way.” Enviei muitos para a outra vida, 2. Write  a list of the words you don’t know and the number of the verse where they are found, leaving  some space for the definition to be found.Ex. treasures. (v2) : riches , wealth, something valuable.

 Battle (v.3) :Murderous (v.4)Peers(v.5)Joys (v.6)Remains (v.6)Bear (v.7)Burnish (v. 7)Goblet ( v.7)Helmet (v.9)Hammered: (v.9)Plating (v.10)Grim (v.11)Armour (v.12)Shields(v.13)Rots (v.14)Corslet (v.14)Hawk (v.17)Hoofbeats (v. 18)Qualm ( v.19)Folk (v.20)                                      3. Now try to discover where a possible sentence begins and ends and mark the verses with a dash  /  .4. Try to  explain the meaning of each “sentence” by  paraphrasing them . What is the poem saying to the reader about the life of the kings and warriors of that kingdom?      

2. THE MEDIEVAL PERIODO PERÍODO MEDIEVAL

The middle ages (1066 to 1485)

Poetry in the medieval periodG. Chaucer  (1343 – 1400)GEOFFREY CHAUCER AND HIS TIME

 ·       Born in London around 1340 of a rich bourgeis family, he married a court lady and served the queen.

 ·       1244 – Politics influence literature.In this year  a decree prohibited a noble to have a land in two countries, therefore the nobles who remained in Britain remained English.·       Around XIV century Middle English was spoken by all the inhabitants of the country.Finally there was an opportunity for literature to be traced as English after the Norman Invasion.·       Cultural life was still around Mosques and the Lords’houses – the influence of the church is strongly felt and poems are about the eternal life.·       London 1390 – Tabard Inn – south of the city – people who are pilgrims go to Canterbury -  a devotion centre in medieval Europe to worship saint Thomas Becket..Chaucer observes the people and writes a scheme for the Canterbury Tales. Many Pilgrims who intend to visit Saint Thomas Becket’s tomb go to the tavern to get together and travel accompanied by other people.The owner of the tavern suggests that to pass the time each traveller should tell two stories on the way to Canterbury and two on the way back. The one who tells the best story, is rewarded with a delicious supper. As the pilgrims, including Chaucer, were 30 people, there should be 120 stories altogether, but unfortunately Chaucer could not finish even 30 stories. The stories are preceeded by a prologue which contains a presentation of the characters.·       The pilgrim’s stories will form a great pannel of the English society of the time, from the pheasant to the noble, some of whom were live characters. Imagine the stories : a group of people going to Canterbury to whom he intends to tell his tales for entertainment. The tales gave Chaucer the title of first English humorist. Unfortunately, he dies around 1400 and cannot finish the stories.His work can be divided in three periods: the French, the Italian and the English.

A)   The French period: Imitates the models of French poetry ( The boke of the duchesse and The Parlament of foules- o Parlamento das aves) .B)   The Italian period (1370- 1384): his work is influenced by the work of Dante and Boccacio (ten syllable verses/ The house of fame- written in the form of a dream. Troylus and Cryseide)C)   The English Period (1384-1400) :The Canterbury Tales: 1386-1387

 

The Wife of Bath’s Tale(from: The Canterbury Tales: 1386-1387)

When good king Arthur ruled in ancient days

(A king that every Briton loves to praise)

This was a land brim-full of fairy folk.

The Elf-Queen and her courtiers joined and broke

05              Their elfin dance on many a green mead,

Or so was the opinion once, I read,

Hundreds of years ago, in days of yore.

But no one now sees fairies any more.

For now the saintly charity and prayer

10              Of holy friars seem to have purged the air;

They search the countryside through field and stream

As thick as motes that speckle a sun-beam.

Blessing the halls, the chambers, kitchens, bowers,

Cities and boroughs, castles, courts and towers,

15              Thorpes, barns and stables, outhouses and dairies,

And that’s the reason why there are no fairies.

Wherever there was wont to walk an elf

To-day there walks the holy friar himself

As evening falls or when the daylight springs,

20              Saying his mattins and his holy things,

Walking his limit round from town to town.

Women can now go safely up and down

By every bush or under every tree;

There is no other incubus but he,

25              So there is really no one else to hurt you

And he will do no more than take your virtue.

              Now it so happened, I began to say,

Long, long ago in good King Arthur’s day,

There was a knight who was a lusty liver.

30              One day as he came riding from the river

He saw a maiden walking all forlorn

Ahead of him, alone as she was born.

And of that maiden, spite of all she said,

By very force he took her maidenhead.

35  This act of violence made such a stir,

So much petitioning to the king for her,

That he condemned the knight to lose his head

By course of law. He was as good as dead

(It seems that then the statutes took that view)

40              But that the queen, and other Iadies too,

Implored the king to exercise his grace

So ceaselessly, he gave the queen the case

And granted her his life, and she

Whether to show him mercy or refuse.

45                         The queen returned him thanks with all her might,

and then she sent a summons to the knight

at her convenience, and expressed her will:

‘You stand, for such is the position still,

in no way certain of your life, ‘ said she,

50              ‘Yet you shall live if you can answer me;

what is the thing that women most desire?

Beware the axe and say as I require.

              ‘If you can’t answer on the moment, though,

I will concede you this: you are to go

55              A twelvemonth and a day to seek and learn

Sufficient answer, then you shall return,

Surrender of your body to the court,’

              Sad was the knight and sorrowfully sighed,

But there! All other choices were denied,

60              And in the end he chose to go away

And to return after a year and day

Armed with such answer as there might be sent

To him by God. He took his leave and went.

              He knocked at every house, searched every place,

65              Yes, anywhere that offered hope of grace.

What could it be that women wanted most?

But all the same he never touched a coast,

Country or town in which there seemed to be

Any two people willing to agree.

70              Some said that women wanted wealth and treasure,

‘Honour,’ said some, some “Jollity and pleasure,’

Some ‘Gorgeous clothes’ and others ‘Fun in Bed,’

‘To be oft widowed and remarried,’ said

Others again, and some that what most mattered

75              Was that we should be cossetted and flattered,

That’s very near the truth, it seems to me;

A man can win us best with flattery.

To dance attendance on us, make a fuss,

Ensnares us all, the best and worst of us.

80              Some say the things we most desire are these:

Freedom to do exactly as we please,

With no one to reprove our faults and lies,

Rather to have one call us good and wise.

Truly there’s not a woman in ten score,

85              Who has a fault, and someone rubs the sore,

But she will kick if what he says is true;

You try it out and you will find so too.

However vicious we may be within

We like to be thought wise and void of sin.

90              Others assert we women find it sweet

When we are thought dependable, discreet

And secret, firm of purpose and controlled,

Never betraying things that we are told.

But that’s not worth the handle of a rake;

95              Women conceal a thing? For Heaven’s sake!

Remember Midas? Will you hear the tale?

              Among some other little things, now stale,

Ovid relates that under his long hair

The unhappy Midas grew a splendid pair

100              Of ass’s ears; as subtly as he might,

He kept his foul deformity from sight;

Save for his wife, there was not one that knew.

He loved her best, and trusted in her too.

He begged her not to tell a living creature

105              That he possessed so horrible a feature.

And she – she swore, were all the world to win,

She would not do such villany and sin

As saddle her husband with so foul a name;

Besides to speak would be to share the shame.

110              Nevertheless she thought she would have died

Keeping this secret bottled up inside;

It seemed to swell her head and she, no doubt,

Thought it was on the point of bursting out.

              Fearing to speak of it to woman or man,

115              Down to a reedy marsh she quickly ran

And reached the sedge. Her heart was all on fire

And, as a bittern bumbles in the mire,

She whispered to the water, near the ground,

‘Betray me not, O water, with thy sound”

120              To thee alone I tell it: it appears

My husband has a pair of ass’s ears!

Ah! My heart’s well again, the secret’s out!

I could no longer keep it, not a doubt.’

And so you see, although we may hold fast

125              A little while, it must come out at last,

We can’t keep secrets; as for Midas, well,

Read Ovid for his story; he will tell.

This knight that I am telling you about

Perceived at last he never would find out

130              What it could be that women loved the best.

Faint was the soul within his sorrowful breast,

As home he went, he dared no longer stay;

His year was up and now it was the day.

              As he rode home in a dejected mood

135              Suddenly, at the margin of a wood,

He saw a dance upon the leafy floor

Of four and twenty ladies, nay, and more.

Eagerly he approached, in hope to learn

Some words of wisdom ere he should return;

140              But lo! Before he came to where they were,

Dancers and dance all vanished into air!

There wasn’t a living creature to be seen

Save one old woman crouched upon the green.

A fouler-looking creature I suppose

145              Could scarcely be imagined. She arose

And said, ‘Sir knight, there’s no way on from here.

Tell me what you are looking for, my dear,

For peradventure that were best for you;

We old, old women know a thing or two.’

150                         ‘Dear Mother, said the knight, “alack the day!

I am as good as dead if I can’t say

What thing it is that women most desire;

If you could tell me I would pay your hire.’

‘Give me your hand,” she said, “and swear to do

155              Whatever I Shall next require of you

- If so to do should lie within your might -

And you shall know the answer before night’

“Upon my honour,’ he answered, ‘I agree.’

‘Then,’ said the crone, ‘I dare to guarantee

160              Your life is safe; I shall make good my claim.

Upon my life the queen will say the same.

Show me the very proudest of them all

In costly coverchief or jewelled caul

That dare say no to what I have to teach.

165              Let us go forward without further speech.’

And then she crooned her gospel in his ear

And told him to be glad and not to fear.

              They came to court. This knight, in full array,

Stood forth and said, ‘O Queen, I’ve kept my day

170              And kept my word and have my answer ready.’

              There sat the noble matrons and the heady

Young girls, and widows too, that have the grace

Of wisdom, all assembled in that place,

And there the queen herself was throned to hear

175              And judge his answer. Then the knight drew near

And silence was commanded through the hall.

              The queen gave order he should tell them all

What thing it was that women wanted most.

He stood not silent like a beast or post,

180              But gave his answer with the ringing word

Of a man’s voice and the assembly heard:

              ‘My liege and lady, in general,’ said he,

‘A woman wants the self-same sovereignty*

Over her husband as over her lover,

185              And master him; he must not be above her.

That is your greatest wish, whether you kill

Or spare me; please yourself. I wait your will.’

              In all the court not one that shook her head

Or contradicted what the knight had said;

190              Maid, wife and widow cried, ‘He’s saved his life!’

              And on the word up started the old wife,

The one the knight saw sitting on the green,

And cried, ‘Your mercy, sovereign lady queen!

Before the court disperses, do me right!

195              ‘Twas I who taught this answer to the knight,

For which he swore, and pledged his honour to it,

That the first thing I asked of him he’d do it,

So far as it should lie within his might.

Before this court I ask you then, sir knight,

200              To keep your word and take me for your wife;

For well you know that I have saved your life.

If this be false, deny it on your sword!’

              ‘Alas!’ he said, ‘Old lady, by the Lord

I know indeed that such was my behest,

205              But for God’s love think of a new request,

Take all my goods, but leave my body free.’

‘A curse on us,’ she said, ‘if I agree!

I may be foul, I may be poor and old,

Yet will not choose to be, for all the gold

210              That’s bedded in the earth or lies above,

Less than your wife, nay, than your very love!’

              ‘My love?’ said he. ‘By heaven, my damnation!

Alas that any of my race and station

Should ever make so foul a misalliance!

215              Yet in the end his pelading and defiance

All went for nothing, he was forced to wed.

He takes his ancient wife and goes to bed.

              Now peradveture some may well suspect

A lack of care in me since I neglect

220              To tell of the rejoicings and display

Made at the feast upon their wedding-day.

I have but a short answer to let fall;

I say there was no joy or feast at all,

Nothing but heaviness of heart and sorrow.

225              He married her in private on the morrow

And all day long stayed hidden like an owl,

It was such torture that his wife looked foul

              Great was the anguish curning in his head

When he and she were piloted to bed;

230              He wallowed back and forth in desperate style.

His ancient wife lay smiling all the while;

At last she said ‘Bless us! Its this, my dear,

How knights and wives get on together here?

Are these the laws of good King Arthur’s house?

235              Are knights of his all so contemptuous?

I am your own beloved and your wife,

And I am she, indeed, that saved your life;

And certainly I never did you wrong.

Then why, this first of nights, so sad a song?

240              You’re carrying on as if you were half-witted

Say, for God’s love, what sin have I committed?

I’ll put things right if you will tell me how.’

              ‘Put right?’ he cried. ‘That never can be now!

Nothing can ever be put right again!

245              You’re old, and so abominably plain,

So poor to start with, so low-bred to follow;

It’s little wonder if I twist and wallow!

God, that my heart would burst within my breast!’

              ‘Is that,’ said she, ‘the cause of your unrest?’

250                         ‘Yes, certainly,’ he said, ‘and can you wonder?’

              ‘I could set right what you suppose a blunder,

That’s if I cared to, in a day or two,

If I were shown more courtesy by you.

Just now,’ she said, ‘you spoke of gentle birth,

255              Such as descends from ancient wealth and worth.

If that’s the claim you make for gentlemen

Such arrogance is hardly worth a hen.

Whoever loves to work for virtuous ends,

Public and private, and who most intends

260              To do what deeds of gentleness he can,

Take him to be the greatest gentleman.

Christ wills we take our gentleness from Him,

Not from a wealth of ancestry long dim,

Though they bequeath their whole establishment

265              By which we claim to be of high descent.

Our fathers cannot make us a bequest

Of all those virtues that became them best

And earned for them the name of gentlemen,

But bade us follow them as best we can.

270                         ‘Thus the wise poet of the Florentines,

Dante by name, has written in these lines,

For such is the opinion Dante launches:

“Seldom arises by these slender branches

Prowess of men, for it is God, no less,

275              Wills us to claim of Him our gentleness.”

For of our parents nothing can we claim

Save temporal things, and these may hurt and maim.

              ‘But everyone knows this as well as I;

For if gentility were implanted by

280              The natural course of lineage down the line,

Public or private, could it cease to shine

In doing the fair work of gentle deed?

No vice or villainy could then bear seed.

              ‘Take fire and carry it to the darkest house

285              Between this kingdom and the Caucasus,

And shut the doors on it and leave it there,

It will burn on, and it will burn as fair

As if ten thousand men were there to see,

For fire will keep its nature and degree,

290              I can assure you, sir, until it dies.

              ‘But gentleness, as you will recognize,

Is not annexed in nature to possessions.

Men fail in living up to their professions;

But fire never ceases to be fire.

295              God knows you’ll often find, if you enquire,

Some lording full of villainy and shame.

If you would be esteemed for the mere name

Of having been by birth a gentleman

And stemming from some virtuous, noble clan,

300              And do not live yourself by gentle deed

Or take your father’s noble code and creed,

You are no gentleman, though duke or earl.

Vice and bad manners are what make a churl.

              ‘Gentility is only the renown

305              For bounty that your fathers handed down,

Quite foreign to your person, not your own;

Gentility must come from God alone.

That we are gentle comes to us by grace

And by no means is it bequeathed with place.

310                         ‘Reflect how noble (says Valerius)

Was Tullius surnamed Hustilius,

Who rose from poverty to nobleness.

And read Boethius, Seneca no less,

Thus they express themselves and are agreed:

315              “Gentle is he that does a gentle deed.”

And therefore, my dear husband, I conclude

That even if my ancestors were rude,

Yet God on high – and so I hope He will –

Can grant me grace to live in virtue still,

320              A gentlewoman only when beginning

To live in virtue and to shrink from sinning.

              ‘As for my poverty which you reprove,

Almighty God Himself in whom we move,

Believe and have our being, chose a life

325              Of poverty, and every man or wife

Nay, every child can see our Heavenly King

Would never stoop to choose a shameful thing.

No shame in poverty if the heart is gay,

As Seneca and all the learned say,

330              He who accepts his poverty unhurt

I’d say is rich although he lacked a shirt.

But truly poor are they who whine and fret

And covet what they cannot hope to get.

And he that, having nothing, covets not,

335              Is rich, though you may think he is a sot.

              ‘True poverty can find a song to sing.

Juvenal says a pleasant little thing:

“The poor can dance and sing in the relief

Of having nothing that will tempt a thief.”

340              Though it be hateful, poverty is good,

A great incentive to a livelihood,

And a great help to our capacity

For wisdom, if accepted patiently.

Poverty is, though wanting in estate,

345              A kind of whealth that none calumniate.

Poverty often, when the heart is lowly,

Brings one to God and teaches what is holy,

Gives knowledge of oneself and even lends

A glass by which to see one’s truest friends.

350              And since it’s no offence, let me be plain;

Do not rebuke my poverty again.

              ‘Lastly you taxed me, sir, with being old.

Yet even if you never had been told

By ancient books, you gentlemen engage

355              Yourselves in honour to respect old age.

To call an old man “father” shows good breeding,

And this cold be supported from my reading.

              ‘You say I’m old and fouler than a fen.

You need not fear to be a cuckold, then.

360              Filth and old age, I’m sure you will agree,

Are powerful wardens over chastity.

Nevertheless, well knowing your delights,

I shall fulfil your worldly appetites.

              ‘You have two choices; which one will you try?

365              To have me old and ugly till I die,

But still a loyal, and humble wife

That never will displease you all her life,

Or would you rather I were young and pretty

And chance your arm what happens in a city

370              Where friends will visit you because of me,

Yes, and in other places too, maybe.

Which would you have? The choice is all your own.’

              The knight thought long, and with a piteous groan

At last he said, with all the care in life,

375              ‘My lady and my love, my dearest wife,

I leave the matter to your wise decision.

You make the choice yourself, for the provision

Of what may be agreeable and rich

In honour to us both, I don’t care which;

380              Whatever pleases you suffices me.’

              ‘And have I won the mastery?’ said she,

‘Since I’m to choose and rule as I think fit?’

‘Certainly, wife,’ he answered her, ‘that’s it.’

‘Kiss me,’ she cried. ‘No quarrels! On my oath

385              And word of honour, you shall find me both,

That is, both fair and faithful as a wife;

May I go howling mad and take my life

Unless I prove to be as good and true

As ever wife was since the world was new!

390              And if to-morrow when the sun’s above

I seem less fair than any lady-love,

Than any queen or empress east or west,

Do with my life and death as you think best.

Cast u the curtain, husband. Look at me!’

395                         And when indeed the knight had looked to see,

Lo, she was young and lovely, rich in charms.

In ecstasy he caught her in his arms,

His heart went bathing in a bath of blisses

And melted in a hundred thousand kisses,

400              And she responded in the fullest measure

With all that could delight or give him pleasure.

              So they lived ever after to the end

In perfect bliss; and may Christ Jesus send

Us husbands meek and young and fresh in bed,

405              And grace to overbid them when we wed.

And – Jesu hear my prayer! – cut short the lives

Of those who won’t be governed by their wives;

And all old, angry niggards of their pence,

God send them soon a very pestilence!                     

      

POPULAR BALLADSEnglish Ballads were probably composed during the five-hundred year period from 1200 to 1700.Barbara Allan[1] It was in and about the Martinmas[2] time,              When the green leaves were a-fallin’;That Sir John Graeme in the West Country              Fell in love with Barbara Allan. 

05              He sent his man down through the town              To the place where she was dwellin’:“O haste and come to my master dear,              Gino ye be Barbara Allan.”              if O slowly, slowly raseo she up,              rose

10                         To the place where he was lyin’,And when she drew the curtain by:              “Young man, I think you’re dyin’.” “O it’s I’m sick, and very, very sick,              And ‘tis a’ for Barbara Allan.”

15              “O the better for me ye salo never be,              shall              Though your heart’s blood were a-spillin’. “O dinna ye mind,[3] young man,” said she,              “When ye the cups were fillin’,That ye made the healths gaeo round and round,              go

20                         And slighted Barbara Allan?” He turned his face unto the wall,              And death with him was dealin’:“Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,              And be kind to Barbara Allan.” 

25              And slowly, slowly, rase she up,              And slowly, slowly left him;And sighing said she could not stay,              Since death of life had reflo him.              deprived

   She had not ganeo a mile but twa, o              gone / two

30                         When she heard the dead-bell knellin’,And every jowo that the dead-bell ga’ed[4]              stroke              It cried, “Woe to Barbara Allan!” “O mother, mother, make my bed,              O make it soft and narrow:

35              Since my love died for me today,              I’ll die for him tomorrow.” 

Lord Randall “Oh where ha’e ye been, Lord Randall my son?O where ha’e ye been, my handsome young man?”              “I ha’e been tp the  wild wood : mother, make my bed soon,For I’m weary wi’ hunding, and faino waldo lie Down.”              adly / would             

05              “Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randall my son?              Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?”              “I dined wi’ my true love: mother, make my bed soon,For I’m weary wi’ hunting, and fain wald lie down.” What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randall my son?

10              Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?”              “I gat eels boiled in broo:o mother, make my bed soon.              broth              For I’m weary wi’ hunting and fain wald lie down.” “What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randall my son?What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?”

15                         “O they swelled and thou died: mother, make my bed soon,For I’m weary wi’ hunting and fain wald lie down.” “O I fear ye are poisoned, Lord Randall my son!O I fear ye are pisoned, my handsome young man!”              “Oh yes, I am poisoned: mother, make my bed soon,

20                         For I’m sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down.”  

  

 

Drama in the medieval period

 THE WAKEFIELD SECOND SHEPHERDS’ PLAY

(ca.1425) [At Mak’s house they hear Gill groan and Mak sing a lullaby.] THIRD SHEPHERD: Will ye hear how they hack? Our sir likes to croon.FIRST SHEPHERD: Heard I never one crack so clear out of tune!              Call on him.SECOND SHEPHERD: Mack! Undo your door soon.MAK: Who is it that spake as it were noon              On loft?              Who is that, I say?THIRD SHEPHERD: Good fellows, were it day –MAK: As far as ye may,              Good, speak soft,              Over a sick woman’s head that is at malaise;              I had liefer be dead e’er she had any dis-ease;WIFE: Go to another place! I may not well wheeze.              Each foot that ye tread goes through my nose,              So high!FIRST SHEPHERD: Tell us, Mak, if ye may,              How fare ye, I say?MAK: But are ye in this town today?              How fare ye, I say?              Ye have run in the mire, and are wet yet.              I shall make you a fire if ye will sit.A nurse would I hire, think ye on it.Well paid is my hire; my dream-this is it,In season.I have bairns, if ye knew,Well more than enow.But we must drink as we brew,And that is but reason.I would have ye dine ere ye go. Methinks that ye sweat.SECOND SHEPHERD: Nay, neither mends our mood, drink nor meat.MAK: Why, sir, ails you aught but good?THIRD SHEPHERD: Yea, our sheep that we get Are stolen as they go. Our loss is great.MAK: Sirs, drink!              Had I been there,              Some should have paid full sore.FIRST SHEPHERD: Marry, some men think that ye were;              And that makes us think.SECOND SHEPHERD: Mak, some men trows that it should be ye.THIRD SHEPHERD: Either ye or your spouse, so say we.MAK: Now, if ye have suspicion of Gill or me,

              Come and rip our house, and then ye may see              Who had her.              If I any sheep got,              Any cow or stott,              And Gill, my wife, rose not              Since here she laid her,              As I am true and teal, to God here I pray              That this be the first meal that I shall eat this day.FIRST SHEPHERD: Mak, as have I weal, advise thee, I say:              He learned timely to steal that could not say nay.WIFE: I swell!Out, thieves, from my house!Ye come to rob us, for the nonce.MAK: Hear ye not how she groans?Your hearts should melt.WIFE: Out, thieves, from my bairn! Approach him not there!MAK: Knew ye what she had borne, your hearts would be sore.Ye do wrong, I you warn, that thus come beforeTo a woman that has farne. But I say-no more.WIFE: Ah, my middle!I pray to God so mild,If ever I you beguiled,That I eat this childThat lies in this cradle.MAK: Peace, woman, for God's pain, and cry not so!Thou hurts thy brain, and makes me full of woe.SECOND SHEPHERD: I think our sheep be slain. What find yetwo?THIRD SHEPHERD: All work we in vain; as well may we go.But, hatters,I can find no flesh,Hard nor nosh,Salt nor fresh,But two empty platters.              Live cattle but this, tame nor wild,None, as have I bliss, so loud as he smelled.WIFE: No, so God me bless, and give me joy of my child!FIRST SHEPHERD: We have marked amiss; I hold us beguiled.SECOND SHEPHERD: Sir, done.Sir, Our Lady him save!Is your child a knave'?MAK: Any lord might him have,This child as his son.When he wakens he skips, that joy is to see.THIRD SHEPHERD: in good time to his hips, and in glee.Who were his godfathers, so soon ready?

MAK: So fair fall their lips!FIRST SHEPHERD: Hark now, a lie!MAK: So God them thank,Parkin and Gibbon Wailer, I say,And gentle John Horn, in good faith,He made all the garrayWith his great shank.SECOND SHEPHERD: Mak, friends will we be, for we are all one.MAK: We! Now I hold for me, for amends get I none.Farewell, all three! All glad were ye gone!                         [Shepherds go out.]THIRD SHEPHERD: Fair words may there be, but love there isnone.This year.FIRST SHEPHERD: Gave ye the child anything?SECOND SHEPHERD: I trow, not one farthing!THIRD SHEPHERD: Fast back will I fling;              Abide ye me here.

[Shepherds re-enter]              Mak, take it to no grief, if I come to thy bairn.MAK: Nay, thou does me great reproof; and foul has thou fared.THIRD SHEPHERD: The child will it not grieve, that little day-              star.              Mak, with your leave, let me give your bairn              But sixpence.MAK: Nay, go 'way; he sleeps.THIRD SHEPHERD: Methinks he peeps.MAK: When he wakens he weeps;              I pray you, go hence!THIRD SHEPHERD: Give me leave him to kiss, and lift up theclout.What the devil is this? He has a long snout!FIRST SHEPHERD: He is marked amiss. We wait ill about.SECOND SHEPHERD: "Ill spun weft," ywis, "aye comes foulout."Aye, so!He is like to oar shellTHIRD SHEPHERD: How, Gib, may I peep?FIRST SHEPHERD: I trow, nature will creepWhere it may not go!SECOND SHEPHERD: This was a quaint gawd and a far cast!It was a high fraud!THIRD SHEPHERD: Yea, sirs, was't.Let's burn this bawd, and bind her fastsAh, false scold, hang at the last,So shall thou.

Will ye see how they swaddleHis four feet in the middle.Saw I never in a cradleA horned lad are nowMAK: Peace, bid I! What! Let be your fare!I am he that him begot, and yon woman him bare.FIRST SHEPHERD: After what devil shall he be halt? "Mak?Lo, God, Mak's heir!SECOND SHEPHERD: Let be all that. Now God give him care,I say.WIFE: A pretty child is heAs sits on a woman's knee;A dilly-downe, perdie,To make a man laugh.THIRD SHEPHERD: I know him by the ear-mark; that is a good token.MAK: I tell you, sirs, hark! His nose was broken;Later told me a clerk that he was forespoken.FIRST SHEPHERD: This is a false work; I would fain be wroken.Get a weapon.WIFE: He was taken by an elf,I saw it myself;When the clock struck twelve .Was he misshapen.SECOND SHEPHERD: Ye two are well gifted, same in a stead.THIRD SHEPHERD: Since they maintain their theft, let's do themto death.MAK: If I trepass eft, gird off my head!With you will I be left.FIRST SHEPHERD: Sirs, take my lead:For this trespassWe will neither curse nor fight,Quarrel nor chide,But have done as tight,And cast him in canvas.

[They toss him and go back to the fields.][They sleep.]

An ANGEL sings "Gloria in excelsis"; then let him say:ANGEL: Rise, herd-men kind! For now is he bornThat shall take from the fiend what Adam had torn:That devil to sheynd this night is he born;God is made your friend now at this morn,He behestsAt Bethlehem go see,Where lies the FreeIn a crib full poorlyBetween two beasts.

FIRST SHEPHERD: This was a wise voice that ever yet I heard.It is a marvel to name,   thus to be scared.SECOND SHEPHERD: Of God's son of heaven he spake upwardAll the wood in a levin Bethought that he made To appearTHIRD SHEPHERD: He spake of a bairnIn Bethlehem, I you warn.FIRST SHEPHERD: That betokens yon star;Let us seek, him there.SECOND SHEPHERD: Say, what was his song? Heard ye not howhe cracked it,                         Three briefs to a long?THIRD SHEPHERD: Yea, marry, he hacked it;Was no crotchet wrong, nor nothing that lacked it.FIRST SHEPHERD: For to sing us among, right as he knocked it, I can.SECOND SHEPHERD: Let's see how ye croon.Can ye bark at the moon?THIRD SHEPHERD: Hold your tongues, have done!FIRST SHEPHERD: Hark after, then!SECOND SHEPHERD: To Bethlehem he bade that we shouldgang;I am full afeared that we tarry too long.THIRD SHEPHERD: Be merry and not sad; o mirth is our song;Everlasting glad our reward may we fang Without noise.FIRST SHEPHERD: Therefore thither hie we,If we be wet and weary,To that child and that lady.We have it not to lose.SECOND SHEPHERD: Go we now, let us fare; the place is usnear.THIRD SHEPHERD: I am ready, prepared; go we togetherTo that bright.Lord, if thy will be -We are simple all three -Grant us some kind of gleeTo comfort thy wight.

[They enter the stable.]FIRST SHEPHERD: Hail, comely and clean! Entail, young child!Hail, maker, as I mean, from a maiden so mild!Thou has cursed, I ween, the devil so wild;The false guiler of teen, now goes he beguiled.Lo, he merry is!Lo, he laughs, my sweating!A welfare meeting!I have holden may heting.Have a bob of cherries!SECOND SHEPHERD: Hail, sovereign Savior, for thou hast us

sought!Hail! noble child and flower, that all things has wrought!Hail, full of favor, that made all of naught!Haill I kneel and I cower. A bird have I broughtTo my bairn.Hail, little tiny mop!Of our creed thou art crop. I would drink of thy cup,Little day-star.THIRD SHEPHERD: Hail, darting dear, full of godhead!I pray thee be near when that I have need.Hail! Sweet is thy cheer! My heart would bleedTo see thee sit here in so poor weed,With no pennies.              Hail! Put forth thy dallI bring thee but a ball:Have and play thee withal,And go to the tennis.MARY: The Father of Heaven, God omnipotent,That set all in seven days, his Son has sent.May name could he neven and descend ore he went.    I conceived him full even, through might as he meant;    And now he is born.    Keep he you from woe!    I shall pray him so.    Tell it forth as ye go,    And mind on this morn.FIRST SHEPHERD: Farewell, lady, so fair to behold,    With thy child on thy knee!SECOND SHEPHERD: But he lies full cold.    Lord, well is me. Now we go, thou behold.THIRD SHEPHERD: Forsooth, already it seems to be told    Full oft.FIRST SHEPHERD: What grace we have found!SECOND SHEPHERD: Come forth; now are we won!THIRD SHEPHERD: To sing are we bound:    Let take aloft!    

Everyman (after 1485)     

 

Prose in the Medieval PeriodSir Thomas Malory (ca. 1405-1471)

Morte D’arthur 

From Morte Darthur [The Conspiracy against Lancelot and Guinevere] In May, when every lusty heart flourisheth and burgeoneth, for as the season is lusty to behold and comfortable, so man and woman rejoiceth and gladdeth of summer coming with his fresh flowers, for winter with his rough winds and blasts causeth lusty men and women to cower and to sit fast by the fire—so this season it befell in the month of May a great anger and unhap that stinted not till-the flower of chivalry of all the world was destroyed and slain. And all was-long upon two unhappy knights which were named Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred that were brethren unto Sir Gawain. For this Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred had ever a privy hate unto the Queen, Dame Guinevere, and to Sir Lancelot, and daily and nightly they ever watched upon Sir Lancelot.So it misfortuned Sir Gawain and all his brethren were in King Arthur's chamber, and then Sir Agravain said thus openly, and not in no counsel, that many knights might hear: "I marvel that we-all be not ashamed both to see and to know how Sir Lancelot lieth daily and nightly by the Queen. And all we know well that it is so, and it is shamefully suffered of us all9 that we should suffer so noble a king as King Arthur is to be shamed."Then spoke Sir Gawain and said, "Brother, Sir Agravain, I pray you and charge you, move no such matters no more afore me, for wit you well, I will not be of your counsel.""So God me help," said Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth, "we will not be known of your deeds.""Then will l!" said Sir Mordred."I lieve you well," said Sir Gawain, "forever unto all unhappiness, sir, ye will grant. And I would that ye left all this and make you not so busy, for I know, ' said Sir Gawain, "what will fall of it.""Fall whatsoever fall may," said Sir Agravain, "I will disclose it to the King. ""Not by my counsel," said Sir Gawain, "for and there arise war and wrack betwixt Sir Lancelot and us, wit you well, brother, there will many kings and great lords hold with Sir Lancelot. Also, brother, Sir Agravain," said Sir Gawain, "ye must remember how often times Sir Lancelot bath rescued the King and the Queen. And the best of us all had been full cold at the heart-root had not Sir Lancelot been better than we, and that has he proved himself full oft. And as for my part," said Sir Gawain, "I will never be against Sir Lancelot for one day's deed, when he rescued me from King Carados of the Dolorous Tower and slew' him and saved my life. Also, brother, Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred, in like wise Sir Lancelot rescued you both and three score and two from Sir Tarquin. And therefore, brother, methinks such noble deeds and kindness should be remembered."“Do as ye list," said Sir Agravain, "for I will layne it no longer.”So with these words came in Sir Arthur.“Now, brother,” said Sir Gawain, “stint your noise.”“That will I not,” said Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred.

“Well, will ye so?” said Sir Gawain. “Then God speed you, for I will not hear of your tales, neither be of your counsel.”     "No more will," said Sir Gaheris. “Then God speed you for I will not hear of your tales, neither be of you counsel.”“No more will I,” said Sir Gaheris.“Neither I,” said Sir Gareth, “for I shall never say evil by that man that made me knight.” And there withal they three departed making great dole.”“Alas!” said Sir Gawain and Sir Gareth, “now is this realm wholly destroyed and mischieved, and the noble fellowship of the Round Table shall be disparbeled.”So they departed, and then King Arthur asked them what noise they made. “My lord,” said Sir Agravain, “I shall tell you, for I may keep it no longer. Here is I and my brother Sir Mordred broke unto my brother Sir Gawain, Sir Gaheris, and to Sir Gareth—for this is all, to make it short—how that we Glow all that Sir Lancelot holdeth your queen, and bath done long; and we be your sisters sons, we may suffer it no longer. And all we wools that ye should be above Sir Lancelot, and ye are the king that made him knight, and therefore we will prove it that he is a traitor to your person.””If it be so,” said the King, “wits you well, he is none other. But I would be loath to begin such a thing but I might have proofs of it, for Sir Lancelot is an hardy knight, and all ye know that he is the best knight among us all. And but if he be taken with the deed, he will fight with him that bringeth up the noise, and I know no knight that is able to match him. Therefore, and it be sooth as ye say, I would that he were taken with the deed.”For, as the French book saith, the King was full loath that such a noise should be upon Sir Lancelot and his queen. For the King had a deeming of it, but he would not hear of it, for Sir Lancelot had done so much for him and for the Queen so many times that, wit you well, the King loved him passingly well."My lord," said Sir Agravain, "ye shall ride tomom on hunting, and doubt ye not, Sir Lancelot will not go with you. And so when it draweth toward night, ye may send the Queen word that ye will lie out all that night, and so may ye send for your cooks. And then, upon pain of death, that night we shall take him with the Queen, and we shall bring him unto you, quick or dead."              “I wil1 well,” said the King. “Then I counsel you to take with you sure fellowship.”              “Sir," said Sir Agravain, “my brother, Sir Mordred, and I will take with us twelve knights of the Round Table.”              “Beware,” said King Arthur, “for I warn you, ye shall find him wight.”              “Let us deal!” said Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred.              So on the mom King Arthur rode on hunting and sent word to the Queen that he would be out all that night. Then Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred got to them twelve knights and hid themself in a chamber in the castle of Carlisle. And these were their names: Sir Colgrevance, Sir Mador de la Porte, Sir Guingalen, Sir Meliot de Logres, Sir Petipace of Winchelsea, Sir Galeron of Galway, Sir Melion de la Mountain, Sir Ascamore, Sir Gromore Somyr Jour, Sir Curselayne, Sir Florence, and Sir Lovell. So these twelve knights were with Sir Mordred and Sir Agravain, and all they were of Scotland, or else of Sir Gawain's kin, or wellwillers to his brother.              So when the night came, Sir Lancelot told Sir Bors how he would go that night and speak with the Queen.              “Sir," said Sir Bors, “ye shall not go this night by—my counsel.”              “Why?” said Sir Lancelot.

              Sir." said Sir Bors, “I dread me ever of Sir Agravain that waiteth upon you daily to do you shame and us all. And never gave my heart against no going that ever ye went to the queen so much as now, for I mistrusts that the King is out this night from the Queen because peradventure he bath lain some watch for you and the Queen. Therefore, I dread me sore of some treason.”              "Have ye no dread," said Sir Lancelot, "for I shall go and come again and make no tarrying."              "Sir,": said Sir Bors, "that me repents, for I dread me sore that your going this night shall wraths us all."              "Fair nephew," said Sir Lancelot, "I marvel me much why ye say thus, sithen the Queen bath sent for me. And wit you wells I will not be so much a coward, but she shall understand I will see her good grace. "              "God speed you well," said Sir Bors, "and send you sound and safe again!"              So Sir Lancelot departed and took his sword under his arm, and so he walked in his mantel, that noble knight, and put himself in great. jeopardy. And so he passed on till he came to the Queen's chamber, and so lightly he was had into the chamber. And then, as the French book saith, the Queen and Sir Lancelot were together. And whether they were abed or at other manner of disports, me list4 not thereof make no mention, for love that times was not as love is nowadays.              But thus as they were together there came Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred with twelve knights with them of the Round Table, and they said with great crying and scaring voice: "Thou traitor, Sir Lancelot, now are thou taken!" And thus they cried with a loud voice that all the court might hear it. And these fourteen knights all were armed at all points, as they should fight in a battle.              "Alas!" said Queen Guinevere, "now are we mischieved both!"              "Madam," said Sir Lancelot, "is there here any armor within your chamber that I might cover my body withal And if there be any, give it me and I shall soon stint their malice, by the grace of God!"              "Now truly," said the Queens ''I have none armor neither helm, shield, sword, neither spear, wherefore I dread me sore our long love is come to a mischievous end. For I hear by their noise there be many noble knights, and well I wool they he surely armed, and against them ye may make no resistance. Wherefore ye are likely to be slain, and then shall I be burned! For and ye might escape them," said the Queen, "I would not doubt but that ye would rescue me in what danger that ever I stood in."              "Alas!" said Sir Lancelot, "in all my life thus was I never bestead3 that I should be thus shamefully slain for lack of mine armor."              But ever in one Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred cried: "Traitor knight, come out of the Queen's chamber! For wit thou well thou art beset so that thou shalt not escape."              "Ah, Jesu mercy!" said Sir Lancelot, "this shameful cry and noise I may not suffer, for better were death at once than thus to endure this pain." Then he took the Queen in his arms and kissed her and said, "Most noblest Christian queen, I beseech you, as ye have been ever my special good lady, and I at all times your poor knight and hrue unto my power, and as I never failed you in right nor in wrong sithen the first day King Arthur made me knight, that ye will pray for my soul if that I be slain. For well I am assured that Sir Bors, my nephew, and all the remnant of my kin, with Sir Lavain and Sir Urry, that they will not fail you to rescue you from the fire. And therefore. mine own lady, recomfort, yourself, whatsoever come of me that ye go

with Sir Bors, my nephew and Sir Urry and they all will do you all the pleasure that they may, and ye shall live like a queen upon my lands."              "Nay, Sir Lancelot nay!" said the Queen. "Wit thou well that I will not live long after thy days. But and ye be slain I will take my death as meekly as ever did martyr take his death for Jesu Christ's sake."              "Well, Madam," said Sir Lancelot, "sith it is so that the day is come that our love must depart, wit you well I shall sell my life as dear as I may. And a thousandfold," said Sir Lancelot, "I am more heavier for you than for myselfl And now I had liefer than to be lord of all Christendom that I had sure armor upon me, that men might speak of my deeds ere ever I were slain."              "Truly," said the Queen,."and it might please God, I would that they would take me and slay me and suffer you to escape."              "That shall- never be, " said Sir, Lancelot. "God defend. me from such a shame! But, Jesu Christ, be Thou my shield and mine armor!" And therewith Sir Lancelot wrapped his mantel about his arm well and surely; and by then they had gotten a great forms out of the hall, and therewith they all rushed at the door. "Now, fair lords," said Sir Lancelot, "leaves your noise and your rushing, and I shall set open this door, and then may ye do with me what it liketh you."              "Come off,  then," said they all, "and do it, for it availeth thee not to strive against us all. And therefore let us into this chamber, and we shall I save thy life until thou come to King Arthur."              Then Sir Lancelot unbarred the door, and with his left hand he held it open a little, that but one man might come in at once. And so there came striding a good knight, a much man and a large, and his name was called Sir Colgrevance of Gore. And he with a sword struck at Sir Lancelot mightily. And he put aside the stroke and gave him such a buflfet upon the helmet that he fell groveling dead within the chamber door. Then Sir Lancelot with great might drew the knight within the chamber door. And then Sir Lancelot, with help of the Queen and her ladies, he was lightly armed in Colgrevance's armor. And ever stood Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred, crying, "Traitor knight! Come forth out of the Queen's chamber!"              "Sirs, leaves your noise," said Sir Lancelot, "for wit you well, Sir Agravain, ye shall not prison me this night. And therefore, and  ye do by my counsel, go ye all from this chamber door and make you no such crying and such manner of slander as ye do. For I promise you by my knighthood, and ye will depart and make no more noise, I shall as tomorn appear adore you all and before the King, and then let it be seen which of you all, other else ye all, that will deprove me of treason. And there shall I answer you, as a knight should, that hither I came to the Queen for no manner of mat engine, and that will I prove and make it good upon you with my hands."              "Fie upon thee, traitor," said Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred, "for we will have thee malgré thine heads and slay thee, and we list. For we let thee wit we have the choice of King Arthur to save thee other slay thee."              "Ah, sirs," said Sir Lancelot, "is there none other grace with you? Then keep yourself!" And then Sir Lancelot set all open the chamber door and mightily and knightly he strode in among them. And anon at the first stroke he slew Sir Agravain, and after twelve of his fellows. Within a little while he had laid them down cold to the earth, for there was none of the twelve knights might stand Sir Lancelot one buffet. And also he wounded Sir Mordred, and therewithal he fled with all his might.              And then Sir Lancelot returned again unto the Queen and said "Madam, now wit you well, all our true love is brought to an end, for now will King Arthur ever be my foe. And

therefore, Madam, and it like you that I may have you with me, I shall save you from all manner adventurous dangers.              Sir, that is not best," said the Queen, "me seemeth, fore now ye have done so much harm, it will be best that ye hold you still with this. And if ye see that as tomorn they will put me unto death, then may ye rescue me as ye think best."              "I wilt well," said Sir Lancelot, "for have ye no doubt, while I am a man living I shall rescue you." And then he kissed her, and either of them gave other a ring and went until his lodging.      

  1 [1] Child, no. 84.[2] November 11.[3] Don’t you remember.[4]