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Download all the speeches and their correct formatting below:
SEASON FOUR with the Beyond Shakespeare Company
All podcast audio adaptations in chronological order (YouTube) |
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The Harrowing of Hell by Unknown (circa mid-13th Century)
thenne spak ihesu, the king:
"Still be thu, lording,
that ich here greden there;
Ich rede that thou ne speke na more,
thou might well witen bi mi play
that ich wile hauen mine away;
Wost thu neuere wat ich am?
More then 30 vinter hit is agon
that thu hauest fonded me
fforto witen wat I be;
Sunne ne foundest thou neuer non
In me as in another mon;
thou might well witen the bi thon
that ich more then ani mon;
thou salt well witen the to-day
that ich wyle hauen mine away;
thenne thou letest the alone,
thenne thou might grunten and grone."
thenne spak him satanas,
Maister-fend in hell he was:
"Par ma fey! ich holde mine
all tho that here ben hine;
With reisoun willy tellen the,
ther aghein ne might thou nout be;
Adam the houngrie com me to,
Mani redes he gan me do;
ffor on apple that ich ghaf him
He is min and al is cun."
"Satanas, hit was min,
the apple that thou gheue him,
the apple and the appletre,
Bothen veren maked thoru me;
Hou mightest thou in eni cunnes wyse
Of other monnes thing maken marchaundise?
Seththen thou boundest him with min,
With reisoun wil ich hauen him."
"Ihesu, welcomen thou be,
that full sore reweth me;
thou art loured ouer al,
thou hauest that thou habbe shal;
Heuene and erthe weldest thou the,
the soules in hell let thou be;
that ich haue let me helde,
that thou hauest well mote thou welde."
"Still, still, satanas!
the is fallen aunbesas.
"Still be thu, lording,
that ich here greden there;
Ich rede that thou ne speke na more,
thou might well witen bi mi play
that ich wile hauen mine away;
Wost thu neuere wat ich am?
More then 30 vinter hit is agon
that thu hauest fonded me
fforto witen wat I be;
Sunne ne foundest thou neuer non
In me as in another mon;
thou might well witen the bi thon
that ich more then ani mon;
thou salt well witen the to-day
that ich wyle hauen mine away;
thenne thou letest the alone,
thenne thou might grunten and grone."
thenne spak him satanas,
Maister-fend in hell he was:
"Par ma fey! ich holde mine
all tho that here ben hine;
With reisoun willy tellen the,
ther aghein ne might thou nout be;
Adam the houngrie com me to,
Mani redes he gan me do;
ffor on apple that ich ghaf him
He is min and al is cun."
"Satanas, hit was min,
the apple that thou gheue him,
the apple and the appletre,
Bothen veren maked thoru me;
Hou mightest thou in eni cunnes wyse
Of other monnes thing maken marchaundise?
Seththen thou boundest him with min,
With reisoun wil ich hauen him."
"Ihesu, welcomen thou be,
that full sore reweth me;
thou art loured ouer al,
thou hauest that thou habbe shal;
Heuene and erthe weldest thou the,
the soules in hell let thou be;
that ich haue let me helde,
that thou hauest well mote thou welde."
"Still, still, satanas!
the is fallen aunbesas.
Dame Sirith by Unknown (circa 1272/1283)
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WILEKIN: Certes, dame, thou sayist as hend,
And I shall setten spell on end,
And tellen thee all,
What I would, and why I come;
Ne can I say no falsedom,
Ne none I ne shall.
I have i-loved thee many year,
Though I have not been here
My love to show.
While thy lord is in town,
Ne may no man with thee holden roun [d]
With no thewe. [courtesy]
Yesterday I heard say,
As I wend by the way,
Of your sire;
I heard me that he was gone
To the fair of Botolfstone
In Lincolnshire.
And for I weste that he was out,
Therefore I am i-gone about
To speak with thee.
He has reason to liken well his life,
That might wield such a wife
In privity.
Dame, if it is thy will,
Both discretely and still,
I will thee love.
MARGERY: That would I do for nothing,
By our Lord, heaven king,
That us is above!
I have my lover, that is my spouse,
That maiden brought me to house
With honour i-now;
He loveth me and I him well,
Our love is also true as steel,
Withoutten woe.
Though he be from home on his errand,
I were unseli, if I learned
To be an whore,
That ne shall never be
That I shall do such falsity,
On bed ne on floor,
Nevermore his life-wile,
Though he were an hundred mile
Beyond Rome,
For nothing ne should I take
Someone on earth to be my mate,
Ere his home come.
And I shall setten spell on end,
And tellen thee all,
What I would, and why I come;
Ne can I say no falsedom,
Ne none I ne shall.
I have i-loved thee many year,
Though I have not been here
My love to show.
While thy lord is in town,
Ne may no man with thee holden roun [d]
With no thewe. [courtesy]
Yesterday I heard say,
As I wend by the way,
Of your sire;
I heard me that he was gone
To the fair of Botolfstone
In Lincolnshire.
And for I weste that he was out,
Therefore I am i-gone about
To speak with thee.
He has reason to liken well his life,
That might wield such a wife
In privity.
Dame, if it is thy will,
Both discretely and still,
I will thee love.
MARGERY: That would I do for nothing,
By our Lord, heaven king,
That us is above!
I have my lover, that is my spouse,
That maiden brought me to house
With honour i-now;
He loveth me and I him well,
Our love is also true as steel,
Withoutten woe.
Though he be from home on his errand,
I were unseli, if I learned
To be an whore,
That ne shall never be
That I shall do such falsity,
On bed ne on floor,
Nevermore his life-wile,
Though he were an hundred mile
Beyond Rome,
For nothing ne should I take
Someone on earth to be my mate,
Ere his home come.
Interludium de Clerico et Puella by Unknown (circa 1290/1335)
CLERICUS: Damsel, rest well.
PUELLA: Sir, welcome, by Saint Michael.
CLERICUS: Where is thy sire, where is thy dame?
PUELLA: By God, is neither here at hame. [home]
CLERICUS: Well were such a man to life
That such a maid might have to wife.
PUELLA: Do way, by Christ and Leonard,
No will I love a clerk fail-ard, [failure]
Nor keep I harbouring clerk, in house, nor i-floor,
But his arse lie withouten door.
Go forth thy way, good sire,
For here hast thou lost all thy hire. [wile]
CLERICUS: No, no, by Christ and by Saint John -
In all this land ne wis I none, [know]
Maiden, that I love more than thee,
If me might ever the blessed be.
For thee I sorrow night and day,
I may say - “Hey wellaway!”
I love thee more than my life,
Thou hates me more than goat does knife.
That is ought for mys guilt, [misdeeds]
Certhes, for thy love am I spilt.
Ah, sweet maiden, rue of me, [pity me]
That is thy love, and ay shall be, [and always shall be]
For the love of the mother of heaven,
Thou mend thy mood and hear my steven!
PUELLA: By Christ of heaven and Saint John,
Clerk of school ne keep I none -
For many good woman have they done shame -
By Christ, thou mights have be at hame! [home]
CLERICUS: Since it neither gat may be,
Jesu Christ beseech I thee,
And send new-lic but therein, [remedy/release]
That I be leased of all my pine.
PUELLA: Go now, truant, go now, go,
For mickle you canst of sorrow and woe!
PUELLA: Sir, welcome, by Saint Michael.
CLERICUS: Where is thy sire, where is thy dame?
PUELLA: By God, is neither here at hame. [home]
CLERICUS: Well were such a man to life
That such a maid might have to wife.
PUELLA: Do way, by Christ and Leonard,
No will I love a clerk fail-ard, [failure]
Nor keep I harbouring clerk, in house, nor i-floor,
But his arse lie withouten door.
Go forth thy way, good sire,
For here hast thou lost all thy hire. [wile]
CLERICUS: No, no, by Christ and by Saint John -
In all this land ne wis I none, [know]
Maiden, that I love more than thee,
If me might ever the blessed be.
For thee I sorrow night and day,
I may say - “Hey wellaway!”
I love thee more than my life,
Thou hates me more than goat does knife.
That is ought for mys guilt, [misdeeds]
Certhes, for thy love am I spilt.
Ah, sweet maiden, rue of me, [pity me]
That is thy love, and ay shall be, [and always shall be]
For the love of the mother of heaven,
Thou mend thy mood and hear my steven!
PUELLA: By Christ of heaven and Saint John,
Clerk of school ne keep I none -
For many good woman have they done shame -
By Christ, thou mights have be at hame! [home]
CLERICUS: Since it neither gat may be,
Jesu Christ beseech I thee,
And send new-lic but therein, [remedy/release]
That I be leased of all my pine.
PUELLA: Go now, truant, go now, go,
For mickle you canst of sorrow and woe!
