Crossing to the New World

Early and Traditional Music in the British Isles, France, and North America



      Over the Hills and Far Away        Pills to Purge Melancholy 1719              

      Kathren Oggie    Anon. fiddle variations, Panmure MS. c. 1680             


The ‘Scotch Humour’ in England

      Jockey Loves His Moggy Dearly       “Mr. R. Brown” Pills to Purge Melancholy 1719              

      Joy to the person of my love     Tune, Stirling MS 1639   (text, Broadside A Lover forsaken, of his best Beloved, London, c.1625)

      Scotch Cap       John Playford The English Dancing Master 1651

      Bobbing Joe        The English Dancing Master 1651             


Scottish  Traditional Ballads

      Lord Ronald (=Lord Randal)           Airds of Kells Scotland c.1830              

      Gypsen Davy (=The Ballad of Johnny Faa)     Tennessee and North Carolina 1916-18              


And A Song of the South

      Berayna (Br’er Reynard)        collected at Elon College, North Carolina 1939             

Dance Tunes Need No Passport

      Crossing to Ireland (An t-aiseadh dh’ Eireann)          Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, today              

      The Ladyes Delight and Jumpe at My Cozen              Anon. Paris Virginal MS c.1630             




The Post-Renaissance Lute

      Galliard: Remembering Dowland                        Ronn McFarlane, composed 1996-97              

      Almain: Early Christmas Morning



An Appalachian Bluebeard

      The Outlandish Knight           Berea, Kentucky 1917             


In The Ears of Shakespeare

The Dark is My Delight         music, anon., Giles Earles’s Songbook 1615 

(text, John Marston, The Dutch Courtesan, 1605)

     Green Garters      John Johnson c.1588-1597              

      The Buffens (Les Bouffons)           Jean d’Estrée Tiers livre de anseries  1559                                                                                                                                               


Airs à danser

      Branle des Lavandieres (Washerwomen’s Branle)         Thoinet Arbeau, Orchésographie 1589                 

            Branle des Chevaulx (Horse’s Branle)                                                                                 

            Branle couppé appellé Aridan (Mixed Branle called Aridan) 


      Une m’avoit promis                                       Adrian Le Roy, Second Livre de Gviterre 1555                 



Mary Anne Ballard - treble and bass viols

Mark Cudek - cittern,  bass viol, recorder, crumhorn, percussion

Larry Lipkis - bass viol, recorder, crumhorn

 Ronn McFarlane - lute, bandora

Mindy Rosenfeld - flutes, fifes, crumhorn, bagpipe

Danielle Svonavec - soprano

Biographies of the Performers


Founded in 1980 to perform the instrumental music of Shakespeare’s time, the Baltimore Consort has explored early English, Scottish, and French popular music, focusing on the relationship between folk and art song and dance. Their interest in early music of English/Scottish heritage has also led them to delve into the rich trove of traditional music preserved in North America. Recently, they have developed a program of music from Renaissance Spain. Recordings on the Dorian label have earned them recognition as Top Classical-Crossover Artist of the Year (Billboard). Besides touring in the U.S. and abroad, they have often performed on such syndicated radio broadcasts as St. Paul Sunday, Performance Today, Harmonia and the CBC’s OnStage. They have also enjoyed many teaching residencies at K-12 schools, as well as at the Madison Early Music Festival and other university engagements. The musicians of the Baltimore Consort bring diverse musical backgrounds together to produce a unique sound.


Mary Anne Ballard researches many of the Consort’s programs. She also plays with Galileo’s Daughters, Brio and Fleur de Lys. Formerly, she directed or coached early music at the Peabody Conservatory, Princeton University, and the University of Pennsylvania, where she founded the Collegium Musicum and produced medieval music drama. She is now on the faculty of Oberlin’s summer Baroque Performance Institute. A resident of Indiana and New York City, she will music-direct the Play of Daniel for 75th Anniversary of opening of The Cloisters Museum in NYC this coming January.


Mark Cudek is Director of the Early Music program at the Peabody Conservatory, and also Artistic Director of the Indianapolis Early Music Festival. In recognition of his work as Founder/Director of the Peabody Renaissance Ensemble and also the High School Early Music Program at the Interlochen Arts Camp, Mark received from Early Music America the 2001 Thomas Binkley Award and the 2005 Award for Outstanding Contribution to Early Music Education. He has regularly performed with Apollo’s Fire, The Catacoustic Consort, and Hesperus, and, in his youth, worked as a cafe guitarist in the Virgin Islands.


Larry Lipkis is Composer-in-Residence and Director of Early Music at Moravian College in Bethlehem PA. His cello concerto, Scaramouche, appears on the Koch label, and his bass trombone concerto, Harlequin, was premiered by the Los Angeles Philharmonic to rave reviews. The trilogy was completed when his bassoon concerto Pierrot was performed by the Houston Symphony. He has also served as Director of Pinewoods Early Music Week, and is currently a Music Director for the Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival. Larry often lectures on the topic of Bach and Rhetoric, speaking this past summer at an NEH course in Leipzig.


Ronn McFarlane has released over 25 CDs on Dorian, including solo collections, lute songs, Elizabethan lute music and poetry, and ensemble music of the Baltimore Consort. Recently, in the tradition of lutenist/composers of past centuries, Ronn has composed new music. These original compositions are the focus of his solo CD, Indigo Road, which received a Grammy Award Nomination in 2009. His CD release, One Morning, features “Ayreheart,” a new ensemble brought together to perform Ronn’s music, and his most recent release is Two Lutes, Elizabethan lute duets with lutenist, William Simms.


Mindy Rosenfeld, a founding member of the Baltimore Consort whose playing graced our first decade, is also a long-time member of San Francisco’s Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra, and appears with other early music ensembles such as Apollo’s Fire. Fluent in a wide range of musical styles, she plays both wooden and modern flutes in addition to recorders, whistles, crumhorns, and early harp. Mindy actively freelances on the West Coast and is Principal Flute at the Mendocino Music Festival in her hometown. The mother of five boys, she loves dancing and tending her organic garden at home on “The Boy Farm”.


Danielle Svonavec, soprano, is a graduate of the University of Notre Dame (BS in mathmatics, 1999, and MM in Voice, 2003) where she now teaches voice.  While a student, she stepped in on short notice as soloist for the Baltimore Consort’s nine-concert 1999 Christmas tour. Since then she has toured with the Consort and appeared with the Smithsonian Chamber Players, Pomerium, the South Bend Chamber Orchestra, and the South Bend Symphony. She currently serves as the Cantor for the nationally televised mass at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart at Notre Dame, and recently began teaching middle school music at The Trinity Greenlawn School in South Bend. Danielle lives with her husband and three daughters  on a farm near Goshen, Indiana.


Baltimore Consort  CDs on the DORIAN label

            On the Banks of Helicon: Early Music of Scotland                                                DOR 90139

            Watkins Ale: Music of the English Renaissance                                                      DOR 90142

            The Art of the Bawdy Song (with The Merry Companions)                                  DOR 90155

            Custer LaRue Sings The Dæmon Lover (traditional ballads)                            DOR 90174

            La Rocque ‘n’ Roll: Popular Music of Renaissance France                                 DOR 90177

            Bright Day Star: Music for the Yuletide Season                                                      DOR 90198

            A Trip to Killburn: Playford Tunes and their Ballads                                           DOR 90238

            Tunes from the Attic: An Anniversary Celebration                                                DOR 90235

            The Ladyes Delight: Music of Elizabethan England                                              DOR 90252

            The Mad Buckgoat: Ancient Music of Ireland                                                         DOR 90279

            Amazing Grace: Spiritual Folksongs of  Early America                                       DOR 90296

            The Best of the Baltimore Consort                                                                            DOR 90023

            Adew Dundee: Early Music of Scotland                                                                    DOR 90314

            Gut, Wind, and Wire: Instruments of the Baltimore Consort                                DSL  90601

            The Baltimore Consort LIVE in Concert                                                                  DSL  90801

            Adío España: Romances, Villancicos, & Improvisations…circa 1500                DSL  90901



Notes On The Program

            The similarity between the dance and instrumental music of four hundred years ago and much of the folk or popular music of today is striking, but not surprising. The thread of tradition which spun out with the migrations of Scottish and English farmers and artisans, as well as French fur trappers, and missionaries, to the New World has remained unbroken up to the present century. This program follows the paths of dance and balladry from the old world to the new, mixing music from early printed musical sources with that of oral tradition.


            The British have long been admired for the music of a “Golden Age” that produced such geniuses as William Byrd. The Renaissance masters of contrapuntal music left a written record, as did the lutenists and keyboard virtuosi. There was, however, another side to Britain’s musical life--the popular music--which was equally vibrant in its way, and much more difficult to recapture in our time because the written record is not only incomplete (due to the very nature of popular music), but noted down in comparatively ephemeral media or else embedded in “fyne” musical compositions such as works for solo lute or virginals. This was the music of the public entertainment scene comprised of the theater, the broadside ballad trade, the bourgeois and aristocratic country dancing balls and salon concerts, the bawdy catch clubs, and even the trademark cries of street vendors.


            The French, having settled in eastern Canada in the first half of the 17th-century, brought with them a fondness for dance as well as other music. In Quebec, they were known to have taught native inhabitants to play European instruments as early as the 1630’s. The French branles (circle dances) on our program are found in a treatise on social dancing published in 1589 (Orchesography) which records the tunes and choreographies in common use in France a mere two decades before Samuel de Champlain sailed into the St. Lawrence River.


            The Baltimore Consort has been performing early popular music for thirty years, beginning with instrumental works for the mixed consort of the Elizabethan period. Originally intrigued by those pop tunes (many appearing in Shakespeare’s plays) which were transformed into high musical art for solo instruments or consort, plus the numerous Scottish titles attached to ballads and dances, we sought to reunite the early song and ballad texts with their melodies and to present them, as well as dance tunes, in new artistic arrangements using the old sources and style as a point of departure. In addition to manuscripts and prints from several hundred years ago, our sources include the folk songs and dances of ancient lineage handed down through oral tradition and recorded by field collectors in the early 20th century.


            In addition to incorporating earlier musical styles, we have tried to adopt the mindset of the early arrangers rather than slavishly copy them, meaning that we allow the musical experience of our personal musical lives to inspire our playing, as for example in the final French dance-song on the program which seemed a little like an early rock ‘n roll number both in its simple rhythmic verve as well as its naïve teenager-in-love text. In other words, it seems more “authentic” to think like a musician of 300 or 400 years ago than to try for an exact duplication of his style.


            In recent years, early music performers have revived the narrative balladry of continental Europe. The Baltimore Consort is fortunate that its British repertory of ancestral songs and ballads is in a language which is immediately comprehensible to its audiences (although every word of the Scots dialect songs may be a bit difficult to understand). Some of the dates of collection and publication may be relatively recent, but these traditional songs seem like our  medieval music—available to us with a vividness not possible in song-narratives of continental Europe.


                                                                          —Mary Anne Ballard



Beginning early in the 17th century, the English developed a taste for Scotttish music. “Joy to the person” found its way into English broadsides at this time, and its tune was recycled in newly-minted ballads. By the end of the century such famous composers as Purcell and Nicola Matteis had tried their hand at arranging Scottish melodies, and Thomas D’Urfey’s Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy (1st edition 1698) contained both words and music to many Scots songs (some written by Englishmen, others originating in Scotland), of which  “Jockey loves his Moggy dearly” is a typical example.


   Jockey loves his Moggy dearly

   Jockey loves his Moggy dearly,                                  I told Mog. ‘twas muckle pleasing,

   He gang’d with her to Perth Fair;          went                Moggy cry’d she’ do again such;

   There we sung and pip’d together,                             I reply’d I’d glad gang with thee,

   And when done, then down I’d lay her:                     But ‘twould wast my muckle coyn much             money

   I so pull’d her, and so lull’d her,                                 She lamented, I relented,

   Both o’erwhelm’d with muckle joy;     much                Both wish’d bodies might increase;

   Mog. kiss’d Jockey, Jockey Moggy,                            Then we’d gang next year together,

   From long  night to break of day.                                And my pipe shall never cease.


        —“A Scotch Song,” Set by Mr. R. Brown, Pills to Purge Melancholy 1719


                                             Joy to the person of my love

                                             Joy to the person of my love                                                                        

                                             Although that she me disdaine,                                                                  

                                             Fixt are my thoughts, and cannot remove,                                                

                                             But yet I love in vaine.       

                                             Shall I lose the sight of my joy and hearts delight,                                   

                                             Or shall I cease my suit?    

                                             Shall I strive to touch? Oh no, that were too much,                                  

                                             She is forbidden fruit.        

                                             Ah, woe is me, that ever I did see                                                               

                                             The beauty that did me bewitch,                                                                 

                                             But now, alas, I must forgoe                                                                        

                                             The treasure I esteemed so much.                                                              


                                             A thousand good fortunes fall to her share

                                             Although she hath forsaken me,

                                             It fil’d my sad heart full of despaire,

                                             Yet ever will I constant be,

                                             For she is the Dame, my tongue shall ever name,

                                             For branch of modestie.

                                             Chaste in heart and minde, oh were she halfe so kinde,

                                             Then would she pitty me.

                                             Oh turne again, be kinde as thou art faire

                                             And let me in thy bosome dwell,

                                             So I shall I gaine the treasure of loves paine

                                             Till then, my dearest Love, Farewell.


                                             —Anonymous broadside,

                                             printed by the Assignes of Thomas Symcocke, London, c. 1625


Lord Ronald (Child Ballad no.13)

Macmath MS, c.1880-85. Harvard University Library. From William Macmath of Edinburgh who “learned it from his aunt, Jane Webster, formerly of Airds of Kells, Scotland, who learned it from a nursemaid at Airds, c.1830.” As with many classic ballads, the sense of tragedy is heightened through the understatement with which the protagonist reveals his impending demise, and the slow but relentless pace with which the story, told in dialogue, unfolds.

            “Where hae ye been a’day, Lord Ronald, my son?

            Where hae ye been a’day, my handsome young one?”

            “I’ve been in the woods hunting; mother, make my bed soon,

            For I am weary , weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.”


            “O where did you dine, Lord Ronald, my son?

            O where did you dine, my handsome young one?”

            “I dined with my sweetheart; mother, make my bed soon,

            For I am weary , weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.”


            “What got you to dine on, Lord Ronald, my son?

            What got you to dine on, my handsome young one?”

            “I got eels boiled in water that in heather doth run,

            And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.”


            “What got she wi the broo o them, Lord Ronald, my son?

            What got she wi the broo o them, my handsome young one?”

            “She gave it to my hounds for to live upon,

            And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.”


            “Where are your hounds now, Lord Ronald, my son?

            Where are your hounds now, my handsome young one?”

            “They are a’ swelled and bursted, and sae will I soon,

            And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.”


            “What will you leave your father, Lord Ronald, my son?

            What will you leave your father, my handsome young one?”

            “I’ll leave him my lands for to live upon,

            And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.”


            “What will you leave your brother, Lord Ronald, my son?

            What will you leave your brother, my handsome young one?”

            “I’ll leave him my gallant steed for to ride upon,

            And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.”


            “What will you leave your sister, Lord Ronald, my son?

            What will you leave your sister, my handsome young one?”

            “I’ll leave her my gold watch for to look upon,

            And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.”


            “What will you leave your mother, Lord Ronald, my son?

            What will you leave your mother, my handsome young one?”

            “I’ll leave her my bible for to read upon,

            And I am weary, weary hunting, and fain would lie doun.”


            “What will you leave your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?

            What will you leave your sweetheart, my handsome young one?”

            “I’ll leave her the gallows-tree for to hang upon,

            It was her that poisoned me;” and so he fell doun.


Gypsen Davey  (Child Ballad no. 200)

In Scotland c.1630, the forerunner of this piece is “Lady Cassiles Lilt.” The ballad appears in the 18th Century as Johnny Faa, or the Gypsie Laddie  (The Scots Musical Museum, 1788). It tells the tale of Lady Cassilis who left her Lord for a gypsy. The refrain represents the magic spell—the “glamour”—which the gypsies cast over this lady.


It was late last night when the squire came home                     I won’t come back, your own true love,

Enquiring for his lady;                                                               I won’t go back, your honey.

The serving-woman answered him:                                           For I’d rather have a kiss from a gypsen’s lips

She has gone with a gypsen Davey.                                          Than all your lands and money.

            Ra-ta-ta-ta tim, ta-ta tim, ta-ta tim                                           Ra-ta-ta-ta tim....

            Ra-ta-ta-ta tim, die-aisy,                                               

            Ra-ta-ta-ta tim, Sing liddle diddle din                         

            Sing liddle diddle Gypsen Davey.                              


Go saddle me my milk white steed,                                          Then hand me back those high heeled shoes,

The black one ain’t so speedy,                                                   Made of the Spanish leather,

 I’ll ride all night to the broad daylight,                                    And give to me your lily white hand,

And I’ll overtake my lady.                                                        And we’ll bid goodbye forever.

            Ra-ta-ta-ta tim....                                                                      Ra-ta-ta-ta tim....

He rode till he came unto the town,                                          She handed him those high heeled shoes,

He rode till he come to Barley,                                                  Made of Spanish leather,

The tears came rolling down his cheeks,                                    And she gave to him her lily white hand,

And there he spied his lady.                                                      And they bade goodbye forever.

            Ra-ta-ta-ta tim....                                                                      Ra-ta-ta-ta tim....


O, come go back, my own true love,                                         Last night I lay in a feather bed,

O, come go back, my honey,                                                     Between my husband and baby,

I swear by the sword that hangs by my side,                            Tonight I’ll lay on the cold, cold ground,

You shall never lack for money.                                                In the arms of a gypsen Davey.

            Ra-ta-ta-ta tim...                                                                       Ra-ta-ta-ta tim....


    —A collation of several versions collected by Cecil Sharp  in North Carolina and Kentucky, 1916-18.



The Fox—Brother Reynard— raises a ruckus in the village with the same glee as his prececessors in song from the Italian trecento to Shakespeare’s England. Twentieth-century folk song collector Cecil Sharp printed different versions under the title The Three Huntsmen.


The first that came was a fair maid                                      Sitting in the woods.

‘A-combing out her locks,                                                            With a whoop, whoop, whoop ...

She said she saw Berayna,                                                  

Amongst the geese and ducks.                                            The next to come was a preacher

      With a whoop, whoop, whoop and a heigh-ho              Thinking on his sins,

      Along the narrow stretch,                                              He said he saw Berayna

      With a rat-tat-tat and a tippy-tippy top                         Folding a paper of pins.

      And down the rolling bow-wow-wow,                                  With a whoop, whoop, whoop...

      With a noodle doodle doodle and a bugle sound,        

      Through the woods he ran, Billy Boy,                           The next that came was a soldier

      Then through the woods he ran.                                    Marching home from war,

                                                                                             He said he saw Beryna,

The next that came was a gentleman                                   Wallowing like a boar.

“A-walking down the street,                                                        With a whoop, whoop, whoop...

He said he saw Berayna                                                      

Carrying a piece of meat.                                                     The last to come was a hunter,

      With a whoop, whoop, whoop...                                   Coming with his gun,

                                                                                             He said he saw Berayna,

The next that come was a merchant                                     Shot him as he run.

Counting out his goods.                                                       With a whoop, whoop, whoop...

He said he saw Berayna,


      —Text and Tune recorded by Fletcher Collins from the singing of  Mrs. J.U. Newman, Elon College,

            North Carolina, March 1939. Deposited in the Library of Congress, Archive of American Folk Song.

The Outlandish Knight (Child Ballad no.4 “Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight”)

This is another version of the Bluebeard story, and, according to Child, was the ballad with widest circulation on the European continent. Here the tale of abduction and serial murder is transformed into comedy, with the intended victim outwitting her seductor. The air of ridiculousness lent by the parrot incident is part of the tradition in both Scotland and England, according to Frank Kidson, a British ballad scholar of the late 19th century.

He followed her up, he followed her down                 Go get them sickles for to cut those nettles

And into the room where she lay,                                  That grow so close to the brim,

She had not the power to flee from his arms,               For they may tangle on my long yellow hair,

Nor the tongue to answer him nay.                               And tear my snowy white skin.


Come rise you up, my pretty Polly,                              He got them sickles for to cut those nettles,

And go along with me;                                                    That grow so close to the brim.

I’ll take you to the north Scotland                                  She picked him up and skillfully,

And married we will be.                                                  She plunged false William in.


Go bring me a bag of your father’s gold,                      Lie you there, lie you there, you false William,

Likewise your mother’s fee,                                            Lie there in the room of me;

And the two best horses out of the stall,                       For if six king’s daughters you have here drowned,

Where there stand thirty and three.                               Then you the seventh shall be.


She lit upon her nimble going brown;                           She rode upon the nimble going brown

He mounted the dapple grey;                                        And led the dapple grey;

And when they reached the north Scotland                  She rode till she come to her father’s gate,

‘Twas just six hours till day.                                           ‘Twas just three hours till day.


Light you down, light you down, my pretty Polly,    Up speaks, up speaks that good old man

Light you down, I say unto thee.                                   From the chamber where he lay;

It’s six King’s daughters here have I drowned             What’s the matter with my pretty parrot bird,

And you the seventh shall be.                                        She’s calling so long before day?


Pull off, pull off those fine gay clothes                         Hush up, hush up, you pretty parrot bird,

And hang them on yonder tree,                                      Don’t tell no tales on me.

For they are too fine and they cost too much               And your cage shall be made of the yellow beaten gold

For to rot in the salt lake sea.                                          And the doors of ivory.


Here sits three cats at my cage door,

My life they will betray;

And I’m just calling for pretty Polly

To drive them cats away.


—Text as sung by Mrs. Joe Vanhook, Berea, Kentucky, May 20, 1917,

 and Mrs. Laura Virginia Donald, Dewey, Virginia, June 6, 1918. Tune as sung by Mrs. Vanhook.


The Dark is my Delight                                                                                                          

Text, as sung by Francischina with her lute in John Marston’s, The Dutch Courtesan , a play from 1605.

Music, anonymous, Giles Earles’s Songbook, 1615 (British Library, Additional MS 24665).

”...the nightingale supposedly slept with its breast against a thorn, hence its song; it thus became an emblem for the sufferings of love.” (The Selected Plays of John Marston, ed. Jackson & Neill, 1986.)


The darke is my delight,

      So tis the Nightingales;

My Musicke’s in the night,

      So is the Nightingales.

My body is but little,

      So is the nightingale’s;

I love to sleep gainst the prickle,

      So doth the nightingale.


Une m’avoit promis Adrian Le Roy, Second Livre de Gviterre 1555 

The guitar was quite popular in 16th-century France. The instrument itself, which was hardly larger than a modern ukelele, was relatively easy to play, and thus attracted enough amateur players to create a market for guitar solo and guitar song publications. It’s in these little books, such as those published by Adrian Le Roy,  that one finds the popular songs of Renaissance France.  The following dance song, using the guitar source as a basis for an expanded arrangement, espouses a simple sentiment and strategy for avoiding pain in matters of the heart: I’ll love a girl only if she loves me.


Une m’avoit promis                                                 A girl promised me

Que ie seroye receu                                                 she’d take me in

Par sus tous ses amys,                                            before all her other friends,

Mais elle m’ha deceu.                                             but she disappointed me.


Chacun soit averty                                                   Everyone should know

De fairte comme moi:                                              to do as I do:

Car d’aimer sans party’                                           for loving without reward

C’est un trop grand esmoi.                                     is too great a trouble.


Amour au vif me poinct,                                        Love pierces me to the quick

Quand bien aimé ie suis:                                        when I’m well loved;

Mais aimer ie ne puis,                                             but I can’t love

Quand on ne m'aime point.                                   when no one loves me.


Plus ne suis de ceux la                                            Nor am I one of those 

Qui se paissent des yeux,                                       who feeds on glances

Ou d’un ris gracieux,                                              or a charming smile;

I’aime mieux que cela.                                            I love something better than that.


C’estoit au temps passé                                          It was long ago,

De mes ieunes amours,                                           while I was a young lover,

Que i'estoye insensé,                                               that I was that crazy,

Quon me faisoit ces tours.                                      and that someone treated me that way.


Si i’eusse aussi bien sceu                                        If I’d understood

Son peu de loyauté,                                                 how little faithful she was,

Iamais ne m'eust deceu                                           her excessive beauty

Sa trop grande beauté.                                            would never have beguiled me.


Telle s’abusera,                                                        The woman who thinks to fool me

Qui me pense abuser:                                             will be fooling herself;

Telle s’embrazera,                                                    she thinks she’s setting me on fire,

Qui me pense embraser.                                         but she’s the one who’s burning.


Non que ie soye si beau                                         Not that I’m so handsome

Qu’on me doive prier,                                            that I have to be pursued;

Mais ie ne suis pas veau,                                        but I’m not such a calf

Qu’on puisse ainsi lier.                                           that I can be bound.


Amour c’est grand plaisir,                                      Love is a great pleasure—

Quand il est bien conduit:                                      when handled well.

Mais il ne faut choisir                                              But we shouldn’t mistake

La fueille pour le fruict.                                          the leaf for the fruit.


Ny l’ombre au lieu du corps,                                 Nor the shadow for the body,

Ny paille au lieu du grain:                                     nor the straw for the grain.

Chacun soit donc recors                                          So everyone should know

De n’aimer point en vain.                                       not to love in vain.


I’aimerai de bon coeur                                            I myself shall love with all my heart

Celle qui m’aimera:                                                 the woman who loves me:

Mais qui me trompera,                                           but the woman who deceives me

Me trouvera trompeur.                                           I’ll deceive myself.


Elle m’ avoit promis,                                               She’d promised me

Qu’ensemble serions mis,                                      we’d be together—

Le corps non seulement,                                         not just in body,

Le coeur entierement.                                             but with our whole hearts.

                                                                                                —tr. Lawrence Rosenwald


The Baltimore Consort USA representative: Joanne Rile Artists Management, Inc.

Noble Plaza Suite 212, 801 Old York Road, Jenkintown, PA  19046         tel.215-885-6400

Baltimore Consort Website: