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Richt arely one Ask Wedinsday Drinkande the wyne sat cummaris tua. The tane couthe to the tothir complene, Granand ande suppand couth sche say: "This lang Lentrin it makis me lene." One couch befor the fyir sche sat. God wait gif sche was gret and fat, Yet to be feble sche did hir fene, Ay sche said, "Cummar, lat preif of that: This lang Lentrin makis me lene." "My fair suet cummar," quod the tothir, "Ye tak that megirnes of your modir. Ale wyne to tast sche wald disdene Bot malwasy, and nay drink uthir: This lang Lentryn it makis me lene." "Cummar, be glaid baith evin and morrow, The gud quharevere ye beg or borrow. Fra our lang fasting youe refrene And lat your husband dre the sorrow. This lang Lentryn it makis me lene." "Your counsaile, commar, is gud," quod scho. "Ale is to tene him that I do; In bed he is nocht wortht ane bane. File anis the glas and drink me to: This lang Lentryn it makis me lene." Of wyne out of ane chopin stoip Thai drank tua quartis, bot soip and soip, Of droucht sic axis did thame strene, Be thane to mend thai hed gud hoip, That lang Lentrin suld nocht mak thaim lene.
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Confirmed with William Dunbar: The Complete Poems, edited by John Conlee. Robbins Library Digital Projects, TEAMS Middle English Texts. Item 82
Modernized version (used by Scott):Richt earlie on Ash Wednesday, Drinkin’ the wine sat kimmers tway; The tane couth to the tother complene, Sichin’ and suppin’ couth she say, “This lang Lentren makis me lean.” On couch beside the fire she sat, God wit, gif she was great and fat, Yet to be feeble she did fein, And ay she said, “Let preif o’ that, This lang Lentren makis me lean.” “My fair, sweet kimmer,” quo’ the tother. Ye tak that niggertness o’ your mother; All wine to taste she wad disdane But Mavsey, she bad nane other. Kimmer, be glad both e’en and morrow Though ye suld baith beg and borrow, Fra ower-lang fasting see you refrain, And let your husband dree the sorrow.” “Your counsel, kinner, is guid,” quo’ she, “All is to tene him that I do, In bed he is not worth a bean; Fill the cup, kimmer, and drink me to; This lang Lentren makis me lean.” Of wine out of ane choppin stoup, The drank twa quartis, soup and soup; Sic drouth the kimmers did constene, Be than to mend they had guid houp, That Lentren suld not mak them lean.
Authorship:
- by William Dunbar (1465 - 1520?), "The Twa Cummars", subtitle: "This lang Lentrin it makis me lene" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Francis George Scott (1880 - 1958), "The twa kimmers", published 1936 [ baritone and piano ], from Scottish Lyrics, Book 4, no. 5, Bayley & Ferguson; confirmed with Songs of Francis George Scott, selected and edited by Neil Mackay, Roberton Publications, Aylesbury, 1980, page 78 [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Iain Sneddon) , copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2018-11-27
Line count: 30
Word count: 212
Very early one Ash Wednesday Drinking the wine sat two gossips. One to the other complained, Groaning and sipping the first she said: “This long Lent, it makes me thin.” On a couch before the fire she sat. God knows she was great and fat, Yet to be feeble she pretended, Then she said, “Friend, let us prove the truth of that: This long Lent makes me thin.” “My fair sweet friend,” said the other, “You get that meagreness from your mother. All wine to taste she would disdain But malmsey, and not drink anything else: This long Lent, it makes me thin.” “Friend, be glad both evening and morning, Be content whether you beg or borrow. From over long fasting you refrain And let your husband endure the sorrow. This long Lent, it makes me thin.” “Your advice, friend, is good,” she said. “All I do is cause him to suffer; In bed he is not worth a bean. Fill the glass at once and drink to me: This long Lent, it makes me thin.” Of the wine out of a half-pint glass They drank two quarts, but sip by sip Such an excess of thirst did afflict them, By which they had had high hopes That long Lent should not make them thin.
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Translations of title(s):
"The Twa Cummars" = "The Two Gossips"
"The twa kimmers" = "The Two Gossips"
Authorship:
- Translation from Scottish (Scots) to English copyright © 2023 by Iain Sneddon, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Based on:
- a text in Scottish (Scots) by William Dunbar (1465 - 1520?), "The Twa Cummars", subtitle: "This lang Lentrin it makis me lene"
This text was added to the website: 2023-05-01
Line count: 30
Word count: 215