Come, come lets begin to revel't out, And tread the hilles and dales about, That hilles and dales and woodes may sound, An echo to this warbling round. Lads merry bee with musicke sweete, and Faires trip it with your feet, Pan's pipe is dull, a better straine, doth stretch it selfe to please your vaine.
Ayres or Phantasticke Sprits for Three Voices
by Thomas Weelkes (1576 - 1623)
1. Come, come let's begin  [sung text checked 1 time]
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]2. Jockey thine horn pipes dull  [sung text checked 1 time]
Jockey, thine horn pipes dull give wind man at full, fie upon such a sad gul, like an hoody doody, all too moody toodle, toodle, pipe it up thicker, ile tread it the quicker: Darite growes so grave, I may not her have: In a round when I do crave, with hoop sir hoy day, O you hurt me toodle, toodle, pipe it up thicker, ile tread it the quicker: Then if the chance to glance in, Give us two roome to dance in like an hoody doody, all too moody toodle, toodle, pipe it up thicker, ile tread it the quicker: why then about it roundly, and I will foot it soundly, ile take my steps the shorter, as if I trampled morter. Set me thy worke by, and come to me smurkly and I will foot it soundly, ile take my steps the shorter, as if I trampled morter. Though my green jerkin bare is Us two to all the parish and I will foot it soundly, ile take my steps the shorter, as if I trampled morter.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]3. Some men desire spouses  [sung text checked 1 time]
Some men desire spouses, That come of noble houses, And some would have in marriage Ladies of courtly carriage. Fa, la, la. But few desire as I do, The maidenhead of a widow. Fa, la, la. Some think fair youth will cherish, Strength that begins to perish. I'll have no colts to taming, Let me be young'st at gaming. Fa, la, la. I'll get, or I'll go nigh too, The Maidenhead of a widow. Fa, la, la.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]4. Tomorrow is the marriage day  [sung text checked 1 time]
Tomorrow is the marriage day Of Mopius and fair Philliday; Come shepherds, bring your garlands gay. If love lie in so foul a nest, And foulness on so fair a breast, What lover may not hope the best? O do not weep, fair Bellamour; Though he be gone, there's many more, For love has many loves in store.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]5. Upon a hill, the bonny boy  [sung text checked 1 time]
Upon a hill the bonny boy Sweet Thyrsis sweetly played, And called his lambs their master’s joy, And more he would have said; But love that gives the lover wings Withdrew his mind from other things. His pipe and he could not agree, For Milla was his note; The silly pipe could never get This lovely name by rote: With that they both fell in a sound1, He fell a-sleep, his pipe to ground.
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View original text (without footnotes)Lyrics from the Song-Books of the Elizabethan Age, ed. by A. H. Bullen, London, John C. Nimmo, 1887, pages 142-143.
1 i.e., a swoon
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6. Come sirrah Jack ho  [sung text checked 1 time]
Come sirrah Jack ho, fill some Tobacco, bring a wire and some fire, haste away, quick I say, do not stay shun delay, for I drank none good today. I swear that this Tobacco it's perfect Trinidado by the very Mass never was better gear than is here by the rood, for the blood it is very good 'tis very good. Fill the pipe once more, my brains dance trenchmore, it is heady I am giddy, My head and brains, back and reins, joints and veins, from all pains it doth well purge and make clean. Then those that do condemn it, or such as not commend it, never were so wise to learn good Tobacco to discern Let them go, pluck a crow, and not know, as I do, the sweet of Trinidado.
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GLOSSARYtrenchmore = a type of dance
reins = kidneys
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7. Tantara cries Mars  [sung text checked 1 time]
Tantara, rantara, cries Mars on bloody rapier, Fa la, fa la, fa la, fa la, cries Venus in her chamber. Toodle loodle loo, cries Pan that cuckoo, With bells at his shoe, and a fiddle too. Aye me, but I, alas, lie weeping, For death has slain my sweeting, Which hath my heart in keeping.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]8. The Gods have heard my vows  [sung text checked 1 time]
The Gods have heard my vows, fond Lyce whose fair brows won't scorn with such disdain, my love, my tears, my pain. Fa, la, la, etc. But now those springtime roses are turn'd to winter poses, to rue and thyme and sage fitting that shrivell'd age. Fa, la, la, etc. Now youths with hot desire see that flameless fire which erst your hearts so burn'd quick into ashes turn'd. Fa, la, la, etc.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]9. Though my carriage be but careless  [sung text checked 1 time]
Though my carriage be but careless, though my looks be of the sternest, yet my passions be compareless, when I love, I love in earnest. No, my wits are not so wild but a gentle soul may yoke me, nor my heart so hard compiled but it melts, if love provoke me.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]10. The Ape, the Monkey and Baboon  [sung text checked 1 time]
The ape, the monkey and baboon did meet, And breaking of their fast in Friday street, Two of them swore together solemnly In their three natures was a sympathy. Nay, quoth baboon, I do deny that strain: I have more knavery in me than you twain. Why, quoth the ape, I have a horse at will In Paris Garden for to ride on still, And there show tricks. Tush, quoth the monkey, For better tricks in great men's houses lie. Tush, quoth baboon, when men do know I come, For sport from city, country they will run.
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (Tinelot Wittermans) , "Een mensaap, een aap en een baviaan", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
11. No, though I shrink still
No, though I shrink still . . . . . . . . . .— The rest of this text is not
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12. Ay me, alas, hey ho
Ay me, alas, hey ho . . . . . . . . . .— The rest of this text is not
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13. Late in my rash accounting
Late in my rash accounting . . . . . . . . . .— The rest of this text is not
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14. Four arms, two necks, one wreathing  [sung text checked 1 time]
Four arms, two necks, one wreathing, Two pair of lips, one breathing. Fa, la, la. Two hearts that multiply Sighs interchangeably. Fa, la, la. The thought of this confounds me, And as I speak it wounds me. Fa, la, la. It cannot be express'd, Good help me while I rest. Fa, la, la. Bad stomachs have their loathing, And O this all is nothing. Fa, la, la. This so with griefs doth prove, Report oft turns in love. Fa, la, la.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]15. Lord, when I think  [sung text checked 1 time]
Lord, when I think what a paltery thing Is a glove, or a ring, or a top of a fan to brag of; And how much a noddy will triumph in a busk point, Snatch with the tag off, then I say Well fare him that hath ever used close play. And when I see what a pitiful grace Hath a frown in the face, Or a no in the lips of a lady; And when I had wist she would be kiss'd When she away did go with hey ho I end so, Never trust any woman more than you know.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]16. Say, wanton, will you love me?  [sung text checked 1 time]
Say, wanton, will you love me? I love no long delaying. Whilst that you strive to prove me, I fear your love's decaying. Fear not my love's decaying, whilst that you strive to prove me. I love no long delaying, come, wanton, then and love me.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]17. I bei ligustri  [sung text checked 1 time]
I bei ligustri e rose Ch'in voi Natura pose Donna gentil, mi fann' ogn' hor morire; Si grave è la mia pena, e 'l mio martire.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]18. Strike it up, Tabor  [sung text checked 1 time]
Strike it up, Tabor And pipe us a favour, Thou shalt be well paid for thy labour. I mean to spend my shoe-soul To dance about the Maypole, I will be blithe and brisk, Leap and skip, hop and trip, Turn about in the rout Until very weary joints can scarce frisk. Lusty Dick Hopkin Lay on with thy napkin. The stitching cost me but a dodkin. The Morris were half undone were't not for Martin of Compton. O, well, said jigging Alce. Pretty Jill, stand you still, Dapper Jack means to smack. How now, fie fie fie, you dance false.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]19. Ha ha, this world doth pass  [sung text checked 1 time]
Ha ha! ha ha! this world doth pass Most merrily, I’ll be sworn; For many an honest Indian ass Goes for an Unicorn. Farra, diddle dino; This is idle fino. Ty hye! ty hye! O sweet delight! He tickles this age that can Call Tullia’s ape a marmosyte And Leda’s goose a swan. Farra diddle dino; This is idle fino. So so! so so! fine English days! When false play’s no reproach: For he that doth the coachman praise, May safely use the coach. Farra diddle dino; This is idle fino.
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Lyrics from the Song-Books of the Elizabethan Age, ed. by A. H. Bullen, London, John C. Nimmo, 1887, page 36.Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
20. Since Robin Hood  [sung text checked 1 time]
Since Robin Hood, Maid Marian, And Little John are gone-a The hobby horse was quite forgot, When Kemp did dance alone-a He did labor After the tabor. For to dance, Then into France. He took pains to skip it In hope of gains. He did trip it On the toe, Diddle diddle diddle doe.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]21. Fa la, now weep, now sing
Fa la, now weep, now sing . . . . . . . . . .— The rest of this text is not
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22. Alas, tarry bou one half hour
Alas, tarry bou one half hour . . . . . . . . . .— The rest of this text is not
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23. As deadly serpents lurking  [sung text checked 1 time]
As deadly serpents lurking, So envy lyeth working, Still to disgrace those men, Which do strive by virtue's fame To augment their height of name, By labour, art and pen. But let all carping Momi, And idle foolish Zoili, Whatsoe'er they will report, I put myself in venture To judgement's learned censure And men of better sort.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]24. Donna, il vostro bel viso  [sung text checked 1 time]
Donna, il vostro bel viso A p'ra che mir ogn'hor il paradiso. M'al mio misero core sen vin ogn'hor in lagrim'e dolore.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]25. The nightingale  [sung text checked 1 time]
The Nightingale, the Organ of delight, the nimble Lark, the Blackbird, and the Thrush, and all the pretty quiristers of flight, that chant their Music notes in ev'ry bush: Let them no more contend who shall excel, the Cuckoo is the bird that bears the bell.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]26. Death hath deprived me  [sung text checked 1 time]
Death hath deprived me of my dearest friend, My dearest friend is dead and laid in grave, In grave he rests until the world shall end As end must all things have. All things must have an end that Nature wrought, Must unto dust be brought.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]