Merrie Olde England

Might I be pardoned for a bit of humour?


Words by John Dryden, music by Henry Purcell, 1690 (325 years ago!)


The words:

Enter Comus with peasants.

COMUS
Your hay, it is mow'd and your corn is reap'd,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heap'd.

Come, boys, come,
Come, boys, come,
And merrily roar out our harvest home.

CHORUS OF PEASANTS
Harvest home,
Harvest home,
And merrily roar out our harvest home.

COMUS
We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?
One in ten, one in ten,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?

PEASANTS
One in ten, one in ten,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?

COMUS
For prating so long, like a book-learn'd sot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to the pot:
Burnt to pot, burnt to pot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to pot.

PEASANTS
Burnt to pot, burnt to pot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to the pot.

COMUS
We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand;
And heigh for the honour of old England;
Old England, Old England,
And heigh for the honour of old England.

PEASANTS
Old England, Old England,
And heigh for the honour of old England.

Dance

The dance varied into a round country-dance

---

Also of interest is an elegant, lavishly staged performance
from the 2004 Salzburg Festival, conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt,
of Act IV, Passacaglia & ''How Happy the Lover''
(that’s Barbara Bonney in white, with the wings, as Philadel).


Reasonably complete text for the sung parts,
with a detailed synopsis of the spoken parts,
is here.




Another piece by John Dryden celebrating the pleasures of drink
was set half a century later, in 1736, the Saxon George Frideric Handel:

The praise of Bacchus, then, the sweet musician sung; Of Bacchus, ever fair, and ever young: The jolly God in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums: Flush’d with a purple grace, He shows his honest face; Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes!

Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; Bacchus’ blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier’s pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain.