ࡱ> 5@ kbjbj22 6XXc,,,8dlЀЀЀЀЀЀЀЀ $)R{N.ЀЀ.ЀЀCrЀЀЀĀ t],~Y0ɦ|Pɦ`ɦ`ЀBxnЀЀЀ..Dg(i̟(i Band of Brothers (Agincourt, France, 1415) Its tough to improve on Shakespeares words, but he isnt always easy to sing. We changed as little as possible from the Crispins Day speech to make it a song, hopefully one that comrades in arms will want to sing together. If we are marked this day to die We are enough to lose But if we live, the fewer men, The greater fame accrues! I pray you, wish not one man more Who thinks to claim a share For we have honours fairly won And there is none to spare! Chorus: We band of brothers For if you shed your blood with me You are my brother And men in England now a-bed Shall feel accursed they were not here To fight with us Upon St. Crispins Day. Proclaim it now throughout my host To bear no false pretense If youve no stomach for this fight Depart and get you hence The price of passage you shall have And rations generous; We will not bear his company Who fears to die with us! CH He that shall live to see old age And come safe home at last Shall on this vigil feast his friends And tell of glories past He will with pride display his wounds And scars however deep And any man who was not here Shall hold his manhood cheap! CH Old men forget, and each man here May crumble and decay But hell remember while he lives What feats he did this day So shall the good man teach his son, Until the world is new And to our memories will drink, We few, we happy few! CH words adapted from William Shakespeares Henry V, Act IV, scene iii, by Lisa Theriot music by Ken and Lisa Theriot 2007, Raven Boy Music, ASCAP To Serve the Lily (Tours, 1366; Agincourt, 1415, York, 1421) Jean II le Maingre, dit Boucicaut was a renaissance man before his time. Educated at court and trained as a soldier, he was nevertheless a poet and patron of the arts, as well as being the founder of an order of knighthood whose sole purpose was protecting the families of knights who were away from their lands in service to the King. The command at Azincourt (the French spell it with a Z) was taken from him by pushy though far less skilled royals, and after the defeat he died unransomed in England. He died a year before Henry Vs death, though, and it comforts me to think that he died believing there would be a man on the French throne that a soldier could respect. The sun rose on the morning of my years And Fortune offered me a noble goal: To stand as first of Frances cavaliers To fight with pride, and live by my parole, With Charles the Dauphin lettered, schooled, and squired And trained to do whatever was required To serve the lily. Too early called to duty and display A dozen years, and then a throne and crown Yet known as well-beloved, le bien aim, My king was destined ever for renown But madness took the scepter from his hand Yet still I journeyed forth at his command To serve the lily. In tournament I sought for no reward But glory for the lily on my shield In Genoa, made governor and lord In far Constantinople, forced to yield But ransom paid, I journeyed forth once more To answer dutys call and ride to war And serve the lily. At Azincourt I joined my friend dAlbret Our forces massed, our strategy agreed, But princes will not follow and obey Nor suffer common men to plan and lead Before days end, I knew our cause was lost But still I fought on, heedless of the cost, To serve the lily. I fell a captive, taken as a prize, And knelt to English Henry in my shame I saw a soldiers soldier in his eyes And in his word and deed no hint of blame He marries royal Catherine, heir of France; May God provide them sons, and grant their chance To serve the lily. At sunset now my evensong I sing And pray before I close my eyes to sleep I dream that I am riding with my king, A world to win, and honor still to keep; With Henry will my faith at last abide As we ride out together, side by side, To serve the lily. Et nous montons ensemble, cte cte, Servir le lys. words by Lisa Theriot music by Ken Theriot 2005, Raven Boy Music, ASCAP Agincourt (Agincourt and England, 1415) This song relates the events of Henry Vs French campaign (August-October 1415) which culminated in the battle of Agincourt on October 25, 1415, as told by an unnamed fictional squire taking part in the campaign. Though we usually think of a squire as a junior figure in service to a knight, squires in Henry Vs time were often noblemen in their own right and as such had to provide a specified number of men for the kings service when called. I left my home to take the coin King Henry's army for to join A knightly fee I seek to hold A belt to wear, and spurs of gold Two accolades had King Henry Just one would be enough for me So off we march from keep and town To win my King a second crown Chorus: For God, Saint George, and King Henry I've brought my men across the sea Honor and right we're fighting for I'll win my spurs at Agincourt! I brought in train nine armored men And bowmen steady, ten by ten We've taken ship and come to land On Normandy's green earth we stand A hundred years of war we've known Our King denied his second throne We'll beard the lion in his den And show the worth of English men! CH To Harfleur Town we laid the siege And little could I serve my liege My men are sick, the rivers swell How long must we bide here in Hell? Then Holland's men essay the gate defended bravely, but too late Our guns are brought to breach the walls And by surrender Harfleur falls. CH King Henry stands in armor clad And though we fear, our hearts are glad He calls us brothers, happy few I may die my liege, but I'll not shame you! At last the French are camped in sight With battle planned for morning's light The minstrels sing with all their breath The priests prepare our souls for death But defeat I cannot reckon by A prisoner I, my men to die? I've asked forgiveness from the Lord So take my soul and bring my sword! CH The Duke of York my men will guard My bowmen in the archers' yard No man may make it back alive For each we have, the French have five The battle's joined, the arrows fly The French on horse attack hard by A mighty press, the Duke is down What price to pay for Henry's crown? What miracle my eyes have spied Our valiant archers turn the tide Before them each a sharpened stave From charging horse their life to save The charge falls back on their own ranks With arrows in their horses' flanks The wounded mounts run mad with pain The French line breaks, their plans in vain By English might the French are pressed King Henry fights like one possessed The Duke will never rise again It falls to me to lead our men Will rallied cry our van attacks The archers join with sword and axe With banners high we meet the fray Against all odds we win the day! CH To London Town and songs of praise In victory we proudly raise The banner of Saint George's cross To cries of, "Deo Gratias" But now I ride for my own lands To serve the King as he commands To keep the faith he placed in me With grace and might of chivalry Last Chorus: For God, Saint George, and King Henry We gained a mighty victory And I return, a squire no more I won my spurs at Agincourt! words by Lisa Theriot music by Ken and Lisa Theriot 1999 Raven Boy Music, ASCAP The Minstrel Boy (Dublin, Ireland, 1798) Thomas Moore is said to have composed this song in remembrance of a number of his friends from his days at Trinity College, Dublin and who had participated in (and were killed during) the Irish Rebellion of 1798. The minstrel boy to the war is gone, In the ranks of death you'll find him; His father's sword he hath girded on, And his wild harp slung behind him; "Land of Song!" cried the warrior bard, "Tho' all the world betrays thee, One sword, at least, thy right shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee!" The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain Could not bring that proud soul under; The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again, For he tore its chords asunder; And said "No chains shall sully thee, Thou soul of love and brav'ry! Thy songs were made for the pure and free They shall never sound in slavery! words by Thomas Moore (1779-1852) music The Moreen, old Irish air arranged by Ken and Lisa Theriot 2007, Raven Boy Music, ASCAP Son of the Sea (Ireland, prehistory) Manannn mac Lir, son of the sea god, appears in many of the major stories of Irish legend, including those of the Tuatha D Danann and Cu Chulainn. According to Manx tradition, he was banished by Saint Patrick in the mid 5th century, emblematic of the reduced status of the old gods with the coming of Christianity. I ride the waves on Ocean Sweeper My ship that bears no scrap of sail No oars, but will alone that leads her Behind the sun, before the rising gale To Lugh I gave my sword of glory And armor weapons could not rend All to defeat the bold Fomorii And so the men of Erin call me friend Chorus: I'm the wind on the ocean, I'm one with the land I'm the mist rolling over the lea I have made human history and I am still here I'm Mannanan, the Son of the Sea My cloak protects the vales of Erin And hides the Danaan in its folds No foeman bold, no unbeliever Can pierce the secrets that it holds My cloak is blue as skies in Summer And green as grass, and white as lime But shaken once between two lovers Will sunder them until the end of time CH I soar the skies on heron's feathers And stooping, dive to skim the sea below In Summer sun or stormy weather From Erin shore to Blessed Isle I go The race of man I have befriended To guard your future, shape your past When on this earth your time is ended 'Tis I will lead you home at last CH words by Ken and Lisa Theriot music by Ken Theriot 1999, Raven Boy Music, ASCAP The Haggis (Scotland, when the whisky flows) Note: neeps are parsnips, swedes are rutabagas, and winkles are periwinkles, a type of shellfish; athol brose is a drink made with whisky and oats. And no, this isnt really what haggis is; someone once described haggis to me as, Basically, you take a sheep and feed it nose-first into a Cuisinart You know the saying, You are what you eat? Perhaps this explains a lot about Scotsmen. The haggis is as fair a beast As e'er was served to diner And if you're minded for a feast Ye canna ask for finer But if ye would on haggis dine And vegetables to match him Tis best ye hearken untae me And learn the way to catch him Chorus: Oh! the neeps, and oh! the swedes And oh! the winkles fine Come raise yer horn of athol brose On haggis let us dine! The haggis roams the highland hills That stretch from loch to loch And he's as fast a quarry then As hunter ever socht He'll run the day and all the nicht He'll match yer hounds for speed Ye canna catch him wi' yer feet Ye maun gang use yer heed! CH The haggis, see, he does nae turn He runs the lee-long day Around and round the hill he gaes But always the same way Sae frae the hour he leaves his dam On rocky slope tae bide His legs grow short anear the scree And lang the doonhill side! CH Sae once ye spy the tasty beast As shy as any doe Just set yer dogs untae his heed And wait yersel' below For when he turns yer hounds tae flee His legs won't reach the ground He'll tumble doon untae yer arms And tae yer pot he's bound! CH words by Lisa Theriot music by Ken Theriot 2001 Raven Boy Music, ASCAP Hatton Woods (Scotland, 1880) Hatton is north of Aberdeen. This song is unlike Burns Sandy oer the Lee wherein the girl rejects multiple rich suitors in favor of her poor but passionate Sandy lad. Ye comrades and companions, And all ye females dear, To my sad lamentations, I pray you lend an ear; There was once I lo'ed a bonnie lass, I lo'ed her as my life, And it was my whole intention To make her my wedded wife. I courted we' the bonnie lass A Twelve-month-and-a-day, Sometimes among the green grass, Sometimes among the hay ; I courted her the leelang night, And part of the next day, Till she says, My dearest Sandy lad, It's time you were away. Now say my dearest Molly When shall we set a time, When you and I will get married, And hands together join, And we'll sit in oor wee cottage, And ye'll neither spin nor sew, While my ain gude-hearted hireman lad Goes whistlin at the plough. There's Cadum and there's Cadum Mills And Luther Mills likewise There woods and waters many more Pleasant to mine eyes, But the bonnie woods O' Hatton, They a' grow green in May, It was there about the lassie lived That stole my heart away. I'll mind about yon bonnie lass When I am far awa, I'll speak about yon bonnie lass To them she never saw, I'll tell them that I loed her well But to me she proved untrue, And she left me doon by Hatton Woods My follys for to rue. But blessings on yon bonnie lass, Where ever she may be, I wish no evil unto her Although she slighted me, I only wish that she may say Some day before she die, I wish I had wed yon hireman lad That sang so sweet to me.' words from a broadside sheet published ca. 1880 music traditional arranged by Ken and Lisa Theriot 2007, Raven Boy Music, ASCAP King Orfeo (England, 1330s) The Auchinleck MS includes a roughly 580 line verse of Sir Orfeo, a Middle English happy-ending version of the classical story of Orpheus and Eurydice, where the King of Faerie takes the place of Hades. Consider this a good parts abridgement. The burden lines come from a version traditional in the Shetland Isles, though weve translated them from Norn to English. It fell about a May morning Early greens the grove When gone a-hunting was the King The hart he goes there yearly Out a-maying went the Queen She's lain beneath the hawthorn green She woke and screamed and tore her gown And in her bower they've laid her down The King said, "Tell me what you've seen Out beneath the hawthorn green." "A strange voice calling in my sleep Said, 'You'll soon be mine to keep' The King of Faerie comes for me Tomorrow noon by that same tree." King Orfeo said, "This I'll do One hundred knights will ride with you And if your fears are proven real The fairy King shall meet our steel." But it was as the lady feared Despite her guard, she disappeared In grief, the King took off his crown In beggar's clothes he left the town He played his harp to ease his pain And ten years thus he did remain Some ladies came a-hunting by His Queen among them caught his eye He chased and spared not stub nor stem To castle's gate he followed them He played his harp for castle's guard And so gained entry as a bard And passing he did see his Queen Asleep beneath a hawthorn green Now he's gone on into the hall And played his harp among them all He's harped the bird down from the sky He's harped a tear from every eye The fairy King said, "Name thy fee, "Ask anything, I'll give it thee!" "Sir, grant me only that lady That sleeps beneath the hawthorn tree." The King said, "You are rough and mean And she is fair as any Queen And what a foul thing it would be To see her in thy company." "A fouler thing, so I have heard Is a King who breaks his given word." The King, who knew the words were true, Said, "Take her then away with you." Then Orfeo he glad arose And he's cast off his beggar's clothes He's brought his Queen back to the town And taken up again his crown He ruled in faith his fellow men And ne'er saw fairy folk again. words by Ken and Lisa Theriot music traditional 2000, Raven Boy Music, ASCAP Fifty Miles into the Main (England and Virginia, 1587) The lost colony of Roanoke is a mystery still being argued over, though John White, the expeditions leader wasnt really surprised to find his people gone on his return. Since they were never meant to land on Roanoke at all, White told the colonists that if they had any trouble, they should journey fifty miles into the mainland where the natives were friendlier and the land was better. One hundred mortal souls are we Who fly from fear and strife Denied our chosen destiny New world, new land, new life Facing murder or starvation We must somehow refuge gain And we pray we find salvation Fifty miles into the main. My name is William Waters And I come from Plymouth town At Walter Raleighs just command We sail for Queen and Crown In Virginia we would settle English lands to challenge Spain But well have to prove our mettle Fifty miles into the main. In fifteen-eighty-seven We set sail for Chesapeake To found an English colony And fortunes for to seek After ten weeks of disaster Mere ill luck could not explain We were forced to look for shelter Fifty miles into the main. A seasoned pilot steers us wrong And cannot find his way; Was he ashore in Spain too long And bought for traitors pay? John White feared the foes of Raleigh Might subvert our whole campaign Cursing politics and folly Fifty miles into the main. On Roanoke we light unplanned, Too late to till or sow George Howe is dead by unknown hand And stores are running low Friendly Croatoan allies Cannot spare us meat or grain So our only hope of help lies Fifty miles into the main. By God or mortal men betrayed, Our need at least was clear John White agreed to go for aid And said for all to hear, Travel up the Chowan River Where the land can life sustain; May the Lord your souls deliver Fifty miles into the main. Virginia Dare is six weeks old; Not all are fit to roam A few will beg a closer hold, A Croatoan home They have carved their destination In a tree to make it plain But most flee in desperation Fifty miles into the main. One hundred mortal souls are we Who fly from fear and strife Still seeking for our destiny: New world, new land, new life Plagued by savage hand or Spaniard, All our hopes may be in vain But well follow promise westward Fifty miles into the main. words and music by Ken and Lisa Theriot 2005 Raven Boy Music, ASCAP The Lie (England, 1618) After years of service to the English crown, Sir Walter Raleigh was executed out of political expediency. This poem is often attributed to Raleigh, though it does not bear his name and was not published until well after his death. Perhaps the author felt safer putting such seditious words in the mouth of someone who had already been beheaded! Go, Soul, the body's guest, Upon a thankless arrant! Fear not to touch the best; The truth shall be thy warrant: Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie. Say to the court it glows And shines like rotten wood; Say to the church it shows What's good, and doth no good: If court and church reply, Then give them both the lie. Tell heads of state* they live Acting by others' action, Not loved unless they give, Not strong but by a faction. If heads of state reply, Give every one the lie. Tell men of high condition That manage their estate, Their purpose is ambition, Their practice only hate: And if they make reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell them that brave it most, They beg for more by spending, Who, in their greatest cost, Seek nothing but commending: And if they make reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell zeal it wants devotion; Tell love it is but lust; Tell time it is but motion; Tell flesh it is but dust: And wish them not reply, For thou must give the lie. Tell physic of her boldness; Tell skill it is pretension; Tell charity of coldness; Tell law it is contention: And as they do reply, So give them still the lie. Tell fortune of her blindness; Tell nature of decay; Tell friendship of unkindness; Tell justice of delay: And if they will reply, Then give them all the lie. * the word potentates actually appears here, but every time we tried to sing it, we were reminded of Ray Stevens song about the Shriners Convention... words abridged from the longer work attributed to Sir Walter Raleigh (1552/4-1618) music by Ken Theriot 2007, Raven Boy Music The Feast Song (Any SCA event, anywhere, anytime) The scary part about this song is that we only made up one thing; the rest were either served to us or to friends who later shared their trauma with us. Go ahead, guess: the answers at the end. I'm never late for dining in the feast hall When dinner's called, I hasten to my seat It's not that I'm assuming That the meal will be a treat But the first things on the table May be all I have to eat The bread and cheese are laid out on the table And butter, honeyed, mixed with herbs, or straight I'll tuck into them greedily And pile them on my plate For then there'll be no room And they'll believe me when I state... Chorus: I'm sure the next remove's not on my diet I see that I cannot identify it [I'll pass on all the slimy stuff And anything with peas] Just give me bread and butter, and cheese. There must have been a special on cilantro Or why else would it be in every dish? They've cooked enough for armies, You can take all that you wish But how much can you eat Of boiled snouts and pickled fish? I never knew that you could do that with a turnip To eat it would be really such a crime There's something green that's floating In a milky pool of slime My lord, please pass the basket With the bread here one more time... CH [The rancid meat's more period, It helps keep down the fleas] The cook went over budget on the peacock That's why we're getting gruel with every course They say the candied herring Soaked in mead's authentic Norse This roasted meat is not half bad, But where's the Prince's horse? I don't know how they got that shade of purple I can't begin to guess what's in the pies The fish head stew's okay, But did they need to leave the eyes? And will our waivers cover us when everybody dies? CH [Just take the sheep's head right back To the kitchen, will you please?] The suckling pig is only raw in places I guess a bite of cabbage wouldn't hurt They say it's more nutritious If you don't wash off the dirt At least the next remove is safe How can they wreck dessert? There's something frittered (best not look too closely) And sugared eggplant jiggling in the heat The pie looks just like cherry, But it's really made with beet Just pass the honey butter And I'll have my something sweet! CH [And if I ever win the Crown, We're going for Chinese! But 'til then just pass the butter, Let the Cook's Guild moan and mutter, And bring me bread and butter, and cheese!] (We made up the candied herring soaked in mead, just in case you were wondering.) words and music by Ken and Lisa Theriot 2000 Raven Boy Music, ASCAP Maldon (East Seaxe, 991) We know about the Battle of Maldon chiefly from the Anglo-Saxon poem of the same name. Byrhtnoth not only overruled his nobles who wanted to simply pay off the Vikings (who were more than happy to go away peacefully with a little Saxon gold in their pockets), he voluntarily gave up a position of military advantage (guarding a bottleneck formed by a low-tide land bridge) out of sheer hubris. Its no wonder half his troops bolted. Ealdorman Byrhtnoth, King Ethelred's Earl Came riding to town in a fury Come all you Saxons, companions in arms I will lead you to war and to glory Vikings have landed at Blackwater Bay It's revenge and our gold they be wanting But we'll send them our spearpoints and arrows and blades, And we'll end this before 'morrow's dawning I'm Aelfhere, the son of a Mercian lord And I fight for my family and field I vowed to this man I would do what I can So I took up my broadsword and shield Byrhtnoth has chosen bold Maccus and me To hold off the Danes on the bridge way And hold them we did 'til his arrogance bid him To trade in the hunt for the melee Many brave warriors on both sides were lost As we yet held our ground from the foe But fast flew a spear from the ranks of the Danes And with desperate luck they did throw Into the body of Byrhtnoth it cut And he's sent to the ground dead and bleeding Seeing this, Odda's son, Godric turned 'round And on his lord's steed he went fleeing Now before me were Vikings advancing Behind me more Saxons were flying One choice brings me to my family tonight And the other means "glory" in dying How could I know they'd forsake us like this Leaving us out here alone? But to keep fighting now would be meaningless death And a worse sin than I've ever known. "Now we must fall with our master," they cried, "And we'll live on in song and in story" But I'll be damned if I'll die for a stake In a misguided vision of glory I kept my word to Earl Byrhtnoth today And I fought 'neath his banner and rod Others may shun me and sully my name But my wife and my children thank God. I'm Aelfhere, the son of a Mercian Lord And I'll fight for my family and field But different the causes for which men will die And the causes for which they will yield words and music by Ken Theriot 1993, Raven Boy Music, ASCAP Track list: 1. Band of Brothers 2. To Serve the Lily 3. Agincourt 4. The Minstrel Boy 5. Son of the Sea 6. The Haggis 7. Hatton Woods 8. King Orfeo 9. Fifty Miles into the Main 10. The Lie 11. The Feast Song 12. 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