new carols and songs for chaucer's pilgrims - David Yardley

DAVID YARDLEY b.1978
NEW CAROLS AND SONGS FOR CHAUCER’S PILGRIMS
I believe that aspects of the medieval worldview
have central relevance to the modern
quest for fulfilment. Medieval stories as well
as fantasy works which reflect those original
stories are so prominent because they speak to
a deep part of us and we draw inspiration from
them. Medieval music, as well as a ‘fantasy’
version which draws on the original music,
speaks to this same part of us.
With the music on this CD I have sought
to achieve three things. First, to create music
which can be enjoyed by as wide a range of
modern listeners as possible. Second, to draw
inspiration from the medieval musical world
that the authors of these carols and songs
would have been immersed in (while avoiding
an attempt to make an exact reconstruction).
Finally, to breathe new life into the nearforgotten
lyrics and poems of the past, by
providing them with a vehicle for their beauty
to be expressed, in which the variety of colours
of medieval life is reflected.
The words for the carols are all taken from
within a hundred years of Chaucer’s death and
some were written during his lifetime. But the
main conceptual connection of this project
2
with Chaucer is with the motley assembly of
his pilgrims, supposedly engaged in a pious
undertaking but mostly revealing their threedimensional
impiety at every step. Chaucer’s
reverent, ribald, industrious and heroic pilgrims
are reflected in the range of works on the CD.
Like the pilgrims, carols covered every side
of medieval life, and there are surviving carol
texts for love, war and ale songs, as well as
Christmas carols, Easter carols and carols for
other religious celebrations. The works on this
CD give a sampling from across the spectrum,
with everything from carols celebrating
Christmas to carols celebrating beer!
One carol has a particular connection with
the pilgrims. “I pra you sers” concerns the virtues
of St Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury,
infamously murdered in the cathedral in 1170,
whose martyrdom sparked the Canterbury
pilgrimages which Chaucer hails.
Additional information and scores for the
music will be made available through the
website www.davidyardley.com.au.

ON MEDIEVAL CAROLS
The word ‘carol’ has come to have a narrower
meaning today than in the Middle Ages. With
its origin in ‘caroles’ or dance-songs, by the
time the texts on this CD were written it could
generally refer to any song with a ‘verse-chorus’
structure.
Many hundreds of carol texts have survived
from medieval times but only a minority have
survived with their original music intact. There
are thus hundreds of carol texts that we have
access to, whose original music is lost.
BACKGROUND TO THE PROJECT
I have loved medieval stories since at least
the age of eight and medieval music since
first encountering it at the age of 12. But the
specifics of this project started to properly take
shape in 2000. I had already begun creating
musical settings using surviving Middle English
lyrics, including the Wyclif Magnificat and
Nunc Dimittis for Evensong. One Christmas
it occurred to me that there must be forgotten
medieval English carols in existence, and I
was fortunate that my fellow chorister Robert
was able to direct me to the book by Richard
Leighton Greene, The Early English Carols
[Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1935].
I remember vividly the day of toiling upstairs
to Level 7 of the University of Sydney library
stack to find this book, to discover it had not
been borrowed since 1986! At the time, this
as much as anything struck me as a powerful
indicator that these beautiful lyrics were almost
forgotten. There really was a reason to give
these words the means to sing again, after
centuries of reluctant silence.
DAVID YARDLEY
September 2012
3

PERFORMERS
(performer biographies available online at www.davidyardley.com.au)
Soprano
Samantha Ellis
Emma Griffiths
Belinda Montgomery
Josie Ryan
Alto
Liz McKenzie
Alanna Mackay
Natalie Shea
David Yardley
Tenor
Richard Black*
Paul Eldon
David Mackay
Bass
Ian Blake
Corin Bone
Sebastien Maury
Daniel Yardley
Percussion
Jon Jones
Conductor
Jehan Kanga
*Richard Black appears courtesy
of the Song Company.
4

DAVID YARDLEY is a composer, countertenor and musical director. He studied at the University
of Sydney and the University of Cambridge, performing with a number of highly regarded
ensembles, including the renowned Choir of Jesus College, Cambridge, the Cambridge Medieval
Music Group, the Choir of St James’ Church King Street, the Sydney Chamber Choir and the
Renaissance Players. He currently performs as a soloist and with Canberra-based groups The
Pocket Score Company and Coro.
David’s compositions have been performed in the US, UK and Australia to date. Samples of the
sheet music for some compositions, including from this disc, are available through his website to
download, as are sample performances and extended biographical details. David can be contacted
to discuss performance of these compositions and others through www.davidyardley.com.au.
5

CHRISTMAS CAROLS
1 Virgo, Rosa Virginum, 15th century
Manuscript: Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge [MS383]
Soloists: Josie Ryan, Belinda Montgomery, Natalie Shea
Songs in praise of the Virgin Mary became very popular in the Middle Ages. The serene burden
(chorus), entirely in Latin, blooms out from a single note, mirroring the text “Maiden, rose
amongst maidens”. As the words change from reverential Latin into the more earthy Middle
English text, the music also develops into rhythmically exciting phrases, ending with medievalinspired
‘hocket’ figures where each note is sung alternately by different vocal parts.
Virgo, rosa virginum
Tuum precare Filium
Alle ye mouwen of joye synge;
Fro hevene ys come god tythyng:
Mary mylde, that gode thyng,
Iam concepit Filium.
Quene of hevene, wel the be!
Godes Sone ys boron of the
For te make us alle fre
Ab omni labe criminum.
Wanne that he of her bore was
In a crache wyt hey and gras,
And for hour synne diede on cros
Surexit die tercia.
Aftur hys ded, in hys uprysyng,
To hevene he toc hys upstyyng;
6
Maiden, rose amongst maidens
We entreat thy Son
All ye who can of joy sing;
From heaven is come good tidings:
Mary mild, that good thing,
Already conceived thy Son
Queen of heaven, well thee be!
God’s Son is born of thee
For to make us all free
From every suffering of guilt
When that he of her born was
In a cradle with hay and grass,
And for our sin died on cross
And rose on the third day
After his death, in his uprising,
To heaven he took his ascenscion;

Ther he dwellus, wytoute lesyng,
Deus super omnia.
Marie, modur wytoute wemme,
Brytur than the sonne bem,
The has taken wyt hym
Ad celi palacia.
Tho the we makun houre mone:
Pray for us to thy Sone
That we mowen wyt hym wone
In perhenni gloria.
There he dwells, without ending,
God above all things.
Mary, mother without stain,
Brighter than the sun’s beam,
Thee hast he taken with him
To the palace of Heaven.
To thee we make our prayer:
Pray for us to thy Son
That we might with him win
Eternal Glory.
2 Letabundus Exultet, 15th century
Manuscript: Bridgwater Corporation Muniments, Bridgwater, Somerset [123]
Soloists: Belinda Montgomery, Natalie Shea, Richard Black, Corin Bone
A joyous Christmas carol, this piece is set to a dance rhythm, emphasising its celebratory mood.
The piece gradually introduces more parts and more complexity as the verses occur, ending with
an intricate passage of ‘double-hocketing’ in the later verses. This creates a ‘shimmering’ effect,
mirroring the words, which speak of shining stars, the ray of light and the sun which never goes
down.
Letabundus exultet fidelys chorus, Alleluia
Now well may we myrthys make,
For Jhesu mankynd hath take
Of a mayden withoutyne make;
Gaudeamus
A kyng of kynges now forth ys browghth
Off a maydyne that synnyd nowghte,
Let the choir of the faithful rejoice, Alleluia
Now well may we mirth make,
For Jesu man’s form hath take
Of a maiden without any make;
Let us rejoice
A king of kings now forth is brought
Of a maiden that sinned nought,
7

Nether in ded nether in thowghte,
Res miranda.
An angell of counsell now ys bore
Off a mayde, as Y sayd before,
To saw all that was forlore,
Sol de stella.
That sonne hath never downe goyng,
And thys lyght no tyme lesyng;
Thys stere is evermore scheinyng,
Semper clara.
Ryght as the stere browght forght a beme,
Oute the wych comm’th a marv’lose streme,
So dud that mayde withowtyn weme,
Pari forma.
Neither in deed neither in thought,
A wondrous thing.
An angel of counsel now is born
Of a maid, as I said before,
To save all that was forlorn,
The sun from a star.
That sun is never down going,
And this light at no time shall fail;
This star is evermore shining,
Forever pure.
Just as the star brought forth a beam,
Out of which com’th a marv’lous stream,
So did that maiden without stain,
Of the same beauty.
3 Alleluia, Deo Patris Sit Gloria, 15th century
Manuscript: Sloane 2593, British Museum, London
Soloists: Emma Griffiths, Natalie Shea, Richard Black, Sebastien Maury
This is a Christmas carol with many classic allusions, such as to the ox and ass in the stable. The
large amount of Latin in the text, as well as the insistent repeating of the word ‘Alleluia’ makes it
well suited to a grand musical setting. As the ‘Alleluias’ build, the parts are gradually added until we
arrive at a full, four-part choral sound with percussion.
Alleluia, Alleluia,
Deo Patri sit gloria
Salvator mundi, Domine,
Fader of Hevene, blyssid thou be;
8
Alleluia, Alleluia
Glory be to God the Father
O Lord, saviour of the world,
Father of Heaven, blessed thou be;

Thou gretyst a mayde with on ‘Ave’,
Que vocatur Maria
Adesto nunc propicius;
Thou sendyst thi Sone, swete Jhesus,
Man to become for love of us;
Deo Patri sit gloria
Ne mentem sompnus oprimat;
Betwyx an ox and an as
Cryst hymself, born he was
De virgine Maria
Te reformator sensuum;
Bothe lytil and mekil and alle and sum,
Wolcum the tyme that now is com;
Deo Patri sit gloria
Gloria tibi, Domine,
Thre personys in Trenyte;
Blyssid mot they alle be;
Deo Patri sit Gloria
Thou greetest a maid with an ‘Ave’,
Who was called Mary
Help us now to a favourable time;
Thou sendest thy Son, sweet Jesu,
Man to become for love of us;
Glory be to God the Father
That sleep may not oppress our minds;
Between an ox and an ass
Christ himself, born he was
Of the Virgin Mary
Thou, re-former of our senses;
Both little and meek and all and some,
Welcome the time that now is come;
Glory be to God the Father
Glory to thee, O Lord,
Three persons in Trinity;
Blessed may they all be
Glory be to God the Father
4 Blyssid Be That Lady Bryght, 15th century
Manuscript: Eng Poet. E. 1, Bodleian Library, Oxford
Soloists: Josie Ryan, David Yardley, Natalie Shea
In this Christmas carol, the words express awe and wonder at the miracles associated with Jesus’
birth. The music builds upwards from the simple tune in the bottom part, reaching full complexity
in the second verse as the top part joins. The exclamation “With ay!” is repeated in quick succession
by each part, depicting the overwhelming nature of the miracles being described.
9

Blyssid be that lady bryght
That bare a chyld of great myght,
Withouten peyne, as it was ryght,
Mayd mother Marye.
Goddys Sonne is borne;
His moder is a maid,
Both after and beforne,
As the prophycy said,
With ay! With ay!
A wonder thyng it is to se,
How mayden and moder on may be;
Was there never nonne but she,
Mayd moder Marye.
The great Lord of Heav’n
Owr servant is becom;
Thorow Gabriels stevyn
Owre kynd have benom,
With ay! With ay!
A wonder thyng it is to se,
How lord and servant on may be;
Was there never nonne but he,
Born off maid Marye.
Two sons togyther, they
Owght to shyne bryght;
So did that fayer ladye
Whan Jesu in hir light,
With ay! With ay!
A wonder thyng it is to se,
10
Blessed be that lady bright
That bore a child of great might,
Without pain, as it was right,
Maid mother Mary.
God’s Son is born;
His mother is a maid,
Both after and before,
As the prophecy said,
With ay! With ay!
A wondrous thing it is to see,
How maiden and mother one may be;
Was there never none but she,
Maid mother Mary.
The great Lord of Heav’n
Our servant is become;
Through Gabriel’s voice
Our form has taken on,
With ay! With ay!
A wondrous thing it is to see,
How lord and servant one may be;
Was there never none but he,
Born of maid Mary.
Two suns together, they
Ought to shine bright;
So did that fair lady
With Jesu in her light,
With ay! With ay!
A wondrous thing it is to see,

The Lord that bought fre and thrall
Is found in an assis stall
By his moder Mary.
The Lord that bought free and thrall
Is found in an ass’s stall
By his mother Mary.
5 Man be Glad in Halle and Bour, 15th century
Manuscript: Sloane 2593, British Museum, London
Soloists: Samantha Ellis, Natalie Shea, Richard Black
This Christmas carol tells the whole story of Jesus’ life in eight short verses. The ‘gladness’ of the
text is reflected in a spirited and joyful musical setting, while the singers’ dynamic variations follow
the story, first from birth down to death, rising again with the resurrection.
Man be glad, in halle and bour;
This tyme was born our Savyour
In this tyme a chyld was born
To save tho sowle that wen forlorn,
For us he werde garlond of thorn
Al it was for our honour
The eytende day he was schorn
To fulfylle the law that was beforn;
Of meknesse he blew his horn.
Al it was for our honour
On Good Fryday was don on rode;
The Juwes spyltyn his herte blode;
Mary his moder be hym stode.
Ye ben our help and our socour.
On Esterne Day he gan up ryse
To techyn hem that wern onwyse.
Man be glad, in hall and bower;
At this time was born our Saviour
In this time a child was born
To save those souls that were forlorn,
For us he wore garland of thorns;
All it was for our honour
The eighth day he was shorn
To fullfil the law that was before;
Of meekness he blew his horn.
All it was for our honour
On Good Friday was nail’d on cross;
The Jews spilled his heart’s blood;
Mary his mother by him stood.
Ye been our help and our succour.
On Easter Day he rose up
To teach them that were unwise.
11

Jhesu, for your woundes five,
Ye ben our help and our socour.
On Halwyn Thursday he gan upsteye
To his Fader that sit on heye.
Jhesu, for your curteysye,
Ye ben our help and our socour.
On Qwytsunday he gan doun sende
Wyt and wysdam us to amende.
Jhesu, bryng us to that ende
Withoutyn delay, our Savyour.
Jesu, for your wounds five,
Ye been our help and our succour.
On Holy Thursday he rose up
To his Father that sits on high.
Jesu, for your courtesy,
Ye been our help and our succour.
On Whitsunday he came down
Wit and wisdom us to amend.
Jesu, bring us to that end
Without delay, our Saviour.
SECULAR CAROLS
6 Brynge us home good ale, 15th century
Manuscript: Harley 541, British Museum, London
Soloists: v1 – Paul Eldon, Ian Blake; v2 – Richard Black, Corin Bone; v3 – David Yardley, Sebastien Maury;
v4 – Daniel Yardley, David Yardley; v5 – Corin Bone, Daniel Yardley
A raucous carol of ale. The musical setting brings to life the image of the group of merry-makers
sitting around the tavern table, each taking turns to put forward other things than ale – beef, bread,
pork, mutton, veal, cider and wine – for the group to condemn one by one as being (clearly!)
inferior to ale.
Bryng us home good ale, ser;
brynge us home good ale,
And for owre dere Lady love,
brynge us home good ale.
Brynge home no beff, ser,
12
Bring us home good ale, sir;
bring us home good ale,
And for our dear Lady love,
bring us home good ale.
Bring us home no beef, sir,

for that ys full of bonys,
But brynge home good ale inowgh,
for I love wyle that,
But brynge us home good ale.
Brynge us home no wetyn brede,
for that ys full of braund,
Nothyr no ry brede,
for that ys of that same,
But brynge us home good ale.
Bryng us home no porke, ser,
for that is very fat,
Nethyr no barly brede,
for nethyr lovye I that,
But brynge us home good ale.
Bryng us home no muttun, ser,
for that ys togh and lene,
Nothyr no tryps,
for they be seldyn clene,
But brynge us home good ale.
Bryng us home no vele, ser,
for that wyll not dure,
But bryng us home good ale inogh
to drynke by the fyre,
But brynge us home good ale.
Bryng us home no sydyr,
nor no palde wyne,
For, and thou do, thow shalt have
for that is full of bones,
But bring home good ale enough,
for I love well that,
But bring us home good ale.
Bring us home no wheaten bread,
for that is full of char,
Neither no rye bread,
for that is of the same,
But bring us home good ale
Bring us home no pork, sir,
for that is very fat,
Neither no barley bread,
for neither love I that,
But bring us home good ale.
Bring us home no mutton, sir,
for that is tough and lean,
Neither no tripe,
for that be seldom clean,
But bring us home good ale.
Bring us home no veal, sir,
for that will not keep,
But bring us home good ale enough
to drink by the fire,
But bring us home good ale.
Bring us home no cider,
nor no flat wine,
For, and thou do, thou shalt have
13

Crystes curse and myne,
But brynge us home good ale.
Christ’s curse and mine,
But bring us home good ale.
7 Nou sprinkes the sprai, 14th century
Manuscript: Hale 135, Lincoln’s Inn, London
Soloists: Belinda Montgomery, David Yardley, Natalie Shea
The earliest carol on this CD, the subject is bitterness at a lover’s betrayal. The maiden wishes her
former lover buried and vows that he will rue his treachery. But the start of the chorus and other
images used suggest a springtime pastoral setting as the contrasting backdrop. The music brings
out both the sweetness of the spring and the anger of the betrayed lover.
Nou sprinkes the sprai;
Al for love icche am so seek
That slepen I ne mai.
Als I me rode this endre dai
O mi pleyinge,
Seih I hwar a litel mai
Bigan to singge:
“The clot him clingge!
Wai es him I love longinge
Sal libben ai.”
Son icche herde that mirie note
Thider I drogh;
I fonde hire in an herber swot
Under a bogh
With joie inogh.
Son I asked
‘Thou mirie mai,
14
Now branch blossoms;
All for love I am so sick
That sleep I never may.
As I rode out the other day
On my merry way,
Saw I where a graceful maid
Began to sing:
“The gravedirt him cling!
Woe is to him who in lovelonging
Lives his life always.”
Soon I heard that merry note
Thither I drew;
I found her in a garden sweet
Under a bough
With joy enough.
Soon I asked
‘Thou merry maid,

Hwi sinkes tou ai’
Than answerde that maiden swote
Midde wordes fewe:
Mi lemman haves me bihot
Of lovve trewe
He chaunges anewe;
Yiif I mai, it shal him rewe
Bi this dai.’
Why sings thou always’
Then answered that maiden sweet
With words few:
My lover has to me sworn
Of love true
He changes anew;
If I can he shall this well rue
By this day.’
8 Willikin’s Return, c.1470
Manuscript: Addit. 19046, British Museum, London
Soloists: David Yardley, Paul Eldon, Corin Bone
A wartime/political carol, whose lyrics celebrate a newly formed alliance in 1470 which contributed
to the short-lived restoration of Henry VI. The verses give something of a roll-call of the
famous figures of the day who are (at the time the lyrics are written) allied – King Hary is Henry
VI, “my Lorde Prynce” is Edward, Prince of Wales etc. We can imagine the crowd of knights and
bowmen cheering as each of their heroes’ names is mentioned in the verses. The music aims to
reflect the mixed emotions of the words – on the one hand, celebration and on the other, the grim
backdrop of warfare and political uncertainty.
Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! Nowell!
And Cryst save mery Ynglond
and sped yt well!
Tyll home sull Wylekyn,
this joly gentyl schepe,
All to houre combely Kyng Hary
this cnat ys knyt;
Therfore let us all syng nowel.
Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! Nowell!
And Christ save merry England
and speed it well!
Till home shall Willikin,
this jolly gentle ship,
All to our comely King Harry
this knot is knit;
Therefore let us all sing nowell.
15

Tyll home sull Wylekyn,
this joly gentyl mast,
All to my Lorde Prynce
that never was caste;
Therfore let us all syng nowel.
Tyll home sull Wylekyn,
this joly gentyl nore,
All to my Lorde Chaberlayne
that never was forsore
Therfore let us all syng nowel.
Tyll home sull Wylekyn,
this joly gentyl sayle,
All to my Lorde Fueryn
that never dyd fayle;
Therfore let us all syng nowel.
Till home shall Willikin,
this jolly gentle mast,
All to my Lord Prince
that never was cast;
Therefore let us all sing nowell.
Till home shall Willikin,
this jolly gentle oar,
All to my Lord Chamberlain
that never was struck low
Therefore let us all sing nowell.
Till home shall Willikin,
this jolly gentle sail,
All to my Lord Fuerin
that never did fail;
Therefore let us all sing nowell.
9 Wep you no more, 15th century
Manuscript: Harley 1317, British Museum, London
Soloists: David Yardley, Paul Eldon, Ian Blake
This carol has a mournful text, of which only three mysterious verses have survived, which
leave the story unfinished. Our imaginations are left to guess the conclusion of the story, whose
remaining verses have been lost from history. The sound of weeping is created through the use of
medieval-inspired “hockets” between the upper two parts in the chorus.
Wep no more for me swet hart
Wep no more for me
As scharpe as a dart
hathe perysht my hart
16
Weep no more for me sweet heart
Weep no more for me
As sharp as a dart
hath pierced my heart

That ye shod morne for me.
Apon a mornyng of May,
In the mornyng grey,
I walkyd plesantly
To a garden gren,
So fresshe besen
That joy hyt was to se.
Ther walkyd I
Al soburly,
Musyng myselffe alon,
Tyll sodenly,
I blenkyd myn y
Wher I spyyd won.
Whych in gret payn,
Me thowt sarteyn,
Hyt sem’d that he was;
Hys gown al blake
Apon hys bake,
Lyke lede hys colore was.
That you should mourn for me.
Upon a morning of May,
In the morning grey,
I walked pleasantly
To a garden green,
So fresh become
That joy it was to see.
There walked I
All soberly,
Musing myself alone,
Till suddenly,
I blinked my eyes
Where I spied one.
Which in great pain,
I thought certain,
It seem’d that he was;
His gown all black
Upon his back,
Like lead his colour was.
OTHER SACRED CAROLS
10 Lullay, lullay, litel child, c.1372
Manuscript: Advocates 18, National Library of Scotland, Edinburgh
Soloists: Josie Ryan, Natalie Shea, Richard Black
A beautiful and melancholy lullaby carol, whose words are spoken on behalf of sinful mankind.
There is a contrast between the sweet lullaby of the chorus as opposed to the verses, whose words
17

urden the infant with responsibility for correcting vast and deep wrongs. The music reflects this
contrast, with the chorus having a simple, lulling sound against the more complex and violent
rhythms of the verses.
Lullay, lullay, litel child,
Qui wepest thou
qui wepest thou so sore
Lullay, lullay, litel child,
Thou that were so sterne and wild
Nou art become meke and mild
To saven that was forlore.
But for my senne I wot it is
That Godis Sone suffret this;
Merci, Lord! I have do mis;
Iwis, I wile no more.
Ayenis my Fadris wille I ches
An appel with a reuful res;
Werfore myn hertage I les,
And nou thou wepist therfore.
An appel I tok of a tre;
God it hadde forboden me;
Werfore I sulde dampned be,
Yef thi weping ne wore.
Lullay for wo, thou litel thing,
Thou litel barun, thou litel king;
Mankinde is cause of thy murning,
That thou hast loved so yore.
18
Lullay, lullay, little child,
Why weepest thou
Why weepest thou so sore
Lullay, lullay, little child,
Thou that were so stern and wild
Now art become meek and mild
To save what was forlorn
But for my sin, I know it is
That God’s Son sufferred this;
Mercy, Lord! I have done amiss;
Truly, I will no more
Against my Father’s will I chose
An apple through a rueful act;
Wherefore mine heart’s desire I lose,
And now thou weepest therefore,
An apple I took from a tree;
God it had forbidden me;
Wherefore I should damned be,
If it were not for thy weeping.
Lullay for woe, thou little thing,
Thou little baron, thou little king;
Mankind is cause of thy mourning,
That thou hast loved so long.

For man that thou hast ay loved so,
Yet saltu suffren peines mo,
In heved, in feet, in hondis to,
And yet wepen wel more.
That peine us make of senne fre;
That peine us bringge Jesu to the;
That peine us helpe ay to fle
The wikkede fendes lore.
For man, that thou hast ever loved so,
Yet shalt thou suffer pain more,
In head, in feet, in hands too,
And yet weep well more.
That pain that makes us free of sin;
That pain that brings us, Jesu, to thee;
That pain that helps us always to flee
The wicked fiend’s lore.
11 I pra you sers, 15th century, John Audelay
Manuscript: Douce 302, Bodleian Library, Oxford
Soloists: David Yardley, David Mackay, Ian Blake
A carol celebrating St Thomas a Becket, infamously murdered in Canterbury Cathedral on 29
December 1170 and officially recognised as a martyr in 1173. The Canterbury pilgrimages referred
to by Chaucer sprang up from this incident, as pilgrims travelled from Southwark Cathedral in
London to the shrine of Thomas a Becket in Canterbury Cathedral. Reflecting the celebratory
tone of the lyrics despite the grim context of his martyrdom, the music has a bright, rhythmic
drive.
I pra you, sers, al in fere,
Worchip Seynt Thomas, this hole marter.
For on a Tewsday Thomes was borne,
And on a Tuysday he was prest schorne,
And on a Tuysday his lyve was lorne,
And sofyrd martyrdam with myld chere.
Fore Hole Cherche ryght al hit was,
Ellis we had then songyn ‘Alas!’
I pray you, sirs, in all fear,
Worship Saint Thomas, this holy martyr
For on a Tuesday Thomas was born,
And on a Tuesday he was priest shorn,
And on a Tuesday his life was lost,
And suffered martyrdom with mild cheer
For Holy Church right it all was,
Else we had then to sing ‘Alas!’
19

And the child that unborne was
Schul have boght his lyve ful dere.
Ther prestis were thral he mad hem fre:
That no clerke hongid schuld be
Bot eretyk or fore traytre,
Yif one soche case fel ther were.
Then no child criston schuld be,
Ne clerke take ordere in no degre
Ne mayde mared in no cuntre
Without trebeut in the kyng dangere
Thus Hole Cherche he mad fre;
Fore fyfte poyntis he dyed truely;
In heven worchipt mot he be,
And fader and moder him gete and bere
And the child that unborn was
Shall have bought his life full dear
The priests were thralls he set them free:
That no clerk hanged should be
Unless a heretic or traitor,
If one such fell case there were
Then no child christened should be,
Nor clerk take order in no degree
Nor maiden married in no country
Without tribute to the fearsome king
Thus Holy Church he made free;
For fifty points he died truely;
In heaven worshipped may he be,
And his father and mother who bore him
12 Nowel, el, el, el, 15th century
Manuscript: Sloane 2593, British Museum, London
Soloists: David Yardley, Richard Black, Paul Eldon
The bitter despair of Mary, speaking with her dying son on the cross, is powerfully evoked in this
Easter carol, reflecting in the medieval English language the theme of the famous ‘Stabat mater’
Latin text. The repetitions of the syllable ‘El’ in the chorus are musically set to reflect Mary’s bitter
weeping. The verses mix emotions of tenderness and sorrow, as Mary looks over the broken body
of her son.
Nowel, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el!
‘Mary moder, cum and se:
Thi Sone is naylyd on a tre,
20
Nowel, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el!
‘Mary mother, come and see:
Thy Son is nailed on a tree,

Hand and fot; he may not go;
His body is woundyn al in woo.
‘Thi swete Sone that thou hast born
To save mankynde, that was forlorn,
His hed is wrethin in a thorn;
His blysful body is all totorn.’
Quan he this tale began to telle,
Mary wold non lenger dwelle,
But hyid here faste to that hylle
Ther Jhesu his blod began to spyll.
‘Myn swete Sone, that art me dere,
Qwy han men hangyd the here
Thi hed is wrethin in a brere;
Myn lovely Sone, qwer is thin chere
‘Thin swete body that in me rest,
Thin comely mowth that I have kest!
Now on rode is mad thi nest;
Leve chyld, quat is me best’
‘Womman, to Jon I the betake;
Jon, kyp this womman for myn sake.
For synful sowlys my deth I take;
On rode I hange for manys sake.’
‘This game alone me muste play;
For synful sowle I deye today;
Ther is non wyght that goth be the way
Of myn peynys can wel say.’
Hand and foot; he may not go;
His body is wounded all in woe.
‘Thy sweet Son that thou hast born
To save mankind, that was forlorn,
His head is wreathed in a thorn;
His blissful body is all torn’
When he this tale began to tell,
Mary would no longer dwell,
But rushed her fast unto that hill
Where Jesu his blood began to spill.
‘My sweet Son, that art me dear,
Why have men hanged thee here
Thy head is wreathed in a briar;
My lovely Son, where is thy cheer
‘Thy sweet body that in me lay,
Thy comely mouth that I have kissed!
Now on cross is made thy nest;
Dear child, what is for me best’
‘Woman, to John I thee betake;
John, keep this woman for my sake.
For sinful souls my death I take;
On cross I hang for mankind’s sake.
‘This game alone I must play;
For sinful souls I die today;
There is no man that goeth by the way
Of my pain can well say.’
21

13 A domusday we schull ysee, 15th century
Manuscript: Bridgwater Corporation Muniments, Bridgwater, Somerset. [123]
This carol of doomsday bears wondrous images of angels bearing trumpets which blast so loud
that the whole world hears, the dead returning to life and the wrong-doers amongst them paying
the price for their actions in life. These epic, world-shattering images are reflected in the music
– with a full, driving sound and trumpet-like musical figures to evoke what is being described.
Hay, hay, hay, hay, hay, hay, hay, hay,
Take good hede wat youe say.
A domusday we schull ysee
Fadere and Sone in Trinite
With grete powere and magisti,
And angelys in grete aray.
An angele with a trumpat schall blow,
That all the worlde schall yt yknow
They that beyne on yyrth so low,
They schull aryse all off the clay.
They that byne in yrth soo deppe,
They schull to thys trumpat take heed
And aryse and full sorre wyppe
That ever they wer toyenst to fay,
God hymselffe Sune hyt ys
That schall yeve the dome, iwys,
And therfore avys hym that hath ido amys,
Fore there they schull rehersse here pay.
Hay, hay, hay, hay, hay, hay, hay, hay,
Take good heed what you say.
At doomsday we shall see
Father and Son in Trinity
With great power and majesty,
And angels in great array.
An angel with a trumpet shall blow,
That all the world shall it know
They that been in earth so low,
They shall arise all from the clay.
They that been in earth so deep,
They shall to this trumpet take heed,
And arise and weep full sore
That ever they were hostile to the faith,
The son of God himself it is
That shall give them that judgement,
And therefore counsel them that have
done amiss,
For then they shall meet reckoning.
22

DEDICATION
Without the loving, supportive environment created by my parents, my partner and all of my
family throughout my life, it would not have been possible to conceive or execute this work, and I
dedicate it to them.
I also want to deeply thank the people who have inspired and taught me at key moments in my
musical development. To name a few in particular, in Australia, Elizabeth Swain OAM, Tobias
Cole, David Drury, Richard Black and Winsome Evans OAM BEM. In Cambridge, Edward Wickham
and Daniel Hyde, in Edinburgh, Caitlin and Chris Elmes.
The ‘wandering minstrels’ who perform on the CD include some of Australia’s finest soloists
and choral singers, and I am deeply grateful to all the performers for giving their time and talents.
My thanks also go to Peter Wilkin for his translations into today’s English, designed for performance,
and to Richard Black for his work preparing high-quality manuscripts of the works.
Special thanks also go to Kimmo Vennonen for his excellent work as recording artist, to Daniel
Sanderson for artwork, to Paul Eldon for marketing, to Adam Henry for photographs and to
David Mackay and John Virgoe for assistance in the final editing process of the CD.
Recorded February and April, 2012, Wesley Music Centre, Canberra
Recorded by Kimmo Vennonen
© Talisman Recordings. All rights reserved. Unauthorised reproduction, copying and rental of this
recording is prohibited by law.
www.davidyardley.com.au
23