Second Shepherd's Play
I'm having real trouble learning my lines, because they are weird. I'm used to early modern drama, what can I say? Anyway, below is what i've got memorized so far, to give you some idea of the trouble. Please ignore the weird spacing-- I don't have time to work out a way to properly indent to follow the translator's text/style.
Who makes such a din, this time of the night?
I've sat down to spin, I hope now I might
Not rise for a pin! I'll curse in my spite
with no pause.
A house wife that's been
Fretted betwixt and between
Has no work to be seen
For such small chores.
...
I will let you draw the latch. Come in my sweeting.
...
Now your neck may catch a rope at a hanging!
...
It were a foul blot to be hanged, as you may!
...
But so long goes a pot to the water, men say
At last
Comes it home broken.
...
They'll come ere he's slain, and hear the sheep bleat!
...
Yes, Mak. For if they pounce on your back...
...
A fine jest have I spied, since you think of none.
Here shall we hide him, until they are gone.
In my cradle to abide, now let me alone
And I shall lie beside in childbed, and groan.
...
Now bless I that day bright
That ever I was born!
This is a cunning play and well cast.
What a woman may say can help at the last!
None will gainsay, now get you back fast.
That's just the first two pages of my bit of the script. I've got a ways to go. But at least I have that bit pretty solid... :P I can't decide if it's weird more because of the style or because the translator is doing so much work to emulate the original style that he's losing the meaning-- probably both.
(And yeah, those are just my lines, which means it makes even less sense... it's all about a stolen sheep. So far in rehearsals, the sheep has been played by a basketball and my sweatshirt. Who knows what it'll be this week?!)
Who makes such a din, this time of the night?
I've sat down to spin, I hope now I might
Not rise for a pin! I'll curse in my spite
with no pause.
A house wife that's been
Fretted betwixt and between
Has no work to be seen
For such small chores.
...
I will let you draw the latch. Come in my sweeting.
...
Now your neck may catch a rope at a hanging!
...
It were a foul blot to be hanged, as you may!
...
But so long goes a pot to the water, men say
At last
Comes it home broken.
...
They'll come ere he's slain, and hear the sheep bleat!
...
Yes, Mak. For if they pounce on your back...
...
A fine jest have I spied, since you think of none.
Here shall we hide him, until they are gone.
In my cradle to abide, now let me alone
And I shall lie beside in childbed, and groan.
...
Now bless I that day bright
That ever I was born!
This is a cunning play and well cast.
What a woman may say can help at the last!
None will gainsay, now get you back fast.
That's just the first two pages of my bit of the script. I've got a ways to go. But at least I have that bit pretty solid... :P I can't decide if it's weird more because of the style or because the translator is doing so much work to emulate the original style that he's losing the meaning-- probably both.
(And yeah, those are just my lines, which means it makes even less sense... it's all about a stolen sheep. So far in rehearsals, the sheep has been played by a basketball and my sweatshirt. Who knows what it'll be this week?!)