S. Gramley. A Social and Cultural History of English (230569) (Part 2, Texts
nos. 18-25)
Text 18: Samuel Pepys: Excerpts from his diary (1660ff)
1660
[January 1, 1660]Blessed be God, at the end of the last year I was in very good health, without any sense
of my old pain but upon taking of cold. I lived in Axe Yard1, having my wife and servant Jane, and no
more in family then us three. My wife, after the absence of her terms for seven weeks, gave me hopes of
her being with child, but on the last day of the year she hath them again. The condition of the state was
thus. Viz. the rump2, after being disturbed by my Lord Lambert, was lately returned to sit again3. The
officers of the army all forced to yield. Lawson lie[s] still in the river and Monke is with his army in
Scotland. Only my Lord Lambert is not yet come in to the Parliament4; nor is it expected that he will,
without being forced to it. The new Common Council of the City doth speak very high; and hath sent to
Monke their sword-bearer, to acquaint him with their desires for a free and full Parliament, which is at
present the desires and the hopes and expectation of all5. My own private condition very handsome; and
esteemed rich, but endeed very poor, besides my goods of my house and my office, which at present is
somewhat uncertain. Mr Downing6 master of my office.
7 February. Boys do now cry “Kiss my Parliament!” instead of “Kiss my arse!” so great and general a
contempt is the Rump come to among men, good and bad.
11 February. I walked in [Westminster] Hall, where I heard news of a letter from Monke, who was now
gone into the city again and did resolve to stand for the sudden filling up of the House; and it was very
strange how the countenance of men in the Hall was all changed with joy in half an hour’s time. Thence
we took coach for the city to Guildhall, where the hall was full of people expecting Monke and Lord
Mayor to come thither, and all very joyful. And endeed I saw many people give the soldiers drink and
money, and all along in the streets cried, “God bless them!” and extraordinary good words. In Cheapside
there was a great many bonfires, and Bow bells and all the bells in all the churches as we went home were
a-ringing. Hence we went homewards, it being about 10 a-clock. But the common joy that was everywhere
to be seen! The number of bonefires, there being fourteen between St Dunstan’s and Temple Bar. And at
Strand Bridge I could at one view tell thirty-one fires. In King Streete, seven or eight, and all along
burning and roasting and drinking for rumps – there being rumps tied upon sticks and carried up and
down. The buchers at the Maypole in the Strand rang a peal with their knifes when they were going to
sacrifice their rump. On Ludgate Hill there was one turning of the spit, that had a rump tied upon it, and
another basting of it. Indeed, it was past imagination, both the greatness and the suddenness of it. At one
end of the street, you would think there was a whole lane of fire, and so hot that we were fain to keep still
on the further side merely for heat.
8 July. To Whitehall to chapel, where I got in with ease by going before the Lord Chancellor with Mr
Kipps. Here I heared very good musique, the first time that I remember ever to have heard the organs and
singing-men in surplices in my life.
North of what is today Downing Street.
The now small Parliament which took over control after Richard Cromwell (Oliver’s son) left in April 1669).
3 Major-General Lambert sent the Parliament away in October, but it reassembled on Boxing Day (December 26).
4 Commander of the fleet in the Thames. He threw his support to the Parliament.
5 Monke, head of the army in Scotland. He supported a return to civil authority and was about to march on London
(and crossed the border that day). He demanded the return of the “moderate” members of Parliament who were
excluded in 1648, and hence the likelihood of the return of the king.
6 George Downing, head of the Exchequer, where Pepys worked. Downing Street was named after him.
1
2
18 August. To the Cockepitt play, the first that I have had time to see since my coming from sea, The Loyall
Subject, where one Kinaston, a boy, acted the Dukes sister but made the loveliest lady that ever I saw in my
life – only, her voice not very good. After the play done, we three went to drink, and by Captain Ferre[r]s
means, Mr Kinaston and another that acted Archas the Generall came to us and drank with us. Thence
home by coach; and after being trimmed, leaving my wife to look after her little bich, which was just now
a-whelping, I to bed.
4 September. To Axeyard to my house; where standing at the door, Mrs Diana comes by, whom I took into
my house upstairs and there did dally with her a great while, and find that in Latin nulla puella negat. So
home by water; and there sat up late, putting g my papers in order and my money also, and teaching my
wife her musique lesion, in which I take great pleasure. So to bed.
11 September. At Sir W. Battens with Sir W. Pen we drank our morning draught, and from thence for an
houre in the office and dispatch a little business. Dined with Sir W. Battens; and by this time I see that we
are like to have a very good correspondency and neighbourhood, but chargeable. All the afternoon at
home looking over my carpenters. At night I called Tho. Hater out of the office to my house to sit and
talk with me. After he was gone I caused the girle to wash the wainscote of our parler, which she did very
well; which cause my wife and I good sport. Up to my chamber to read a little, and write my diary for
three or four days past.
25 September. To the office, where Sir W. Batten, Colonell Slingsby, and I sat a while; and Sir R. Ford
coming to us about some business, we talked together of the interest of this kingdom to have a peace with
Spain and a war with France and Holland – where Sir R. Ford talked like a man of great reason and
experience. And afterwards did send for a cup of tee (a China drink) of which I never had drank before)
and went away.
13 October. I went out to Charing Cross to see Major-Generall Harrison hanged, drawn, and quartered –
which was done there – he looking cheerfully as any man could do in that condition. He was presently cut
down and his head and his heart shown to the people, at which there was great shouts of joy. It is said that
he said that he was sure to come shortly at the right hand of Christ to judge them that now have judged
him. And that his wife doth expect his coming again. Thus it was my chance to see the King beheaded at
Whitehall and to see the first blood shed in revenge for the blood of the King at Charing Cross.
1 November. This morning Sir W. Pen and I were mounted early. And have very merry discourse all the way
[to Walthamstow], he being very good company. We came to Sir Wm. Battens, where he li ves like a
prince and we were made very welcome. Among other things he showed us a chaire which he calls King
Harrys chair, where he that sits down is catched with two irons that come round about him, which makes
good sport. Here dined with us two ore three more country gentlemen; among the rest, Mr Christmas my
old schoolfellow, with whom I had much talk. He did remember that I was a great Roundhead when I was
a boy, and I was much afeared that he would have remembered the words that I said the day that the King
was beheaded (that were I to preach upon him, my text should be: “The memory of the wicked shall rot”);
but I found afterward that he did go away from schoole before that time. He did make us good sport in
imitating Mr. Case, Ash, and Nye, the ministers – which he did very well. But a deadly drinker he is, and
grown exceeding fat.
20 November. Mr Sheply and I to the new playhouse near Lincolnes Inn Fields (which was formerly
Gibbons’s tennis court), where the play of Beggers’ Bush was newly begun. And so we went in and saw it.. It
was well acted (and here3 I saw the first time one Moone, who is said to be the best acgtor4 in the world,
lately come over with the King); and endeed it is the finest playhouse, I believe, that ever was in England.
And so home, where I found the house in a washing pickle; and my wife in a very joyful condition when I
told her that she is to see the Queene next Thursday. Which puts me in mind to say that this morning I
found my Lord in bed late, he having been with the King, Queene, and Princesse at the Cockpitt all night,
where Generall Monke treated them; and after supper, a play – where the King did put a great affront
upon Singleton’s musique, he bidding them stop and bade the Frence musique play – which my Lord says
doth much outdo all ours.
22 November. Mr Fox did take my wife and I to the Queenes Presence Chamber. Where he got my wife
placed behind the Queenes chaire and I got into the crowd, and by and by the Queen and the two
Princesses came to dinner. The Queen, a very little plain old woman, and nothing more in her presence in
any respect, nor garbe, then any ordinary woman. The Princess of Orange I have often seen before. The
Princess Henriettee is very pretty, but much below my expectation – and her dressing of herself with her
haire frized short up to her eares did make her seem so much the less to me. But my wife, with two or
three black paches on and well dressed, did seem to me much handsomer than she.
1661
28 January. To the Theatre, where I saw again The Lost Lady, which doth now please me better then before.
And here, I sitting behind in a dark place, a lady spat backward upon me by a mistake, not seeing me. But
after seeing her to be a very pretty lady, I was not troubled at it at all.
4 May. Lords Day. Lay long, talking with my wife. Then up and Mr Holliard came to me and let me blood,
about 16 ounces, I being exceedingly full of blood, and very good. I begun to be sick; but lying upon my
back, I was presently well again and did give him 5s for his pains; and so we parted. And I to my chamber
to write down my journall.
1 August. At the office all the afternoon, till evening to my chamber; where, God forgive me, I was sorry
to hear that Sir W. Pens maid Betty was gone away yesterday, for I was in hopes to have had a bout with
her before she had gone, she being very pretty. I have also a mind to my own wench, but I dare not, for
feare she should prove honest and refuse and then tell my wife.
1663
12 May. A little angry with my wife for minding nothing now but the dancing maister [Pembleton], having
him come twice a day, which is a folly.
26 May. Nothing could get the business out of my head, I fearing that this afternoon, by my wife’s sending
every[one] abroad and knowing that I must be at the office, she hath appointed [Pembleton] to come.
This is my devilish jealousy; which I pray God may be false, but it makes a very hell in my mind; which the
God of Heaven remove, or I shall be very unhappy. So to the office, where we sat a while. By and by, my
mind being in great trouble, I went home to see how things were; and there I find as I doubted, Mr
Pembleton with my wife and nobody else in the house, which made me almost mad. And Lord, how my
jealousy wrought so far, that I went saftly up to see whether any of the beds were out of order or no,
which I found not; but that did not content me, but I stayed all the evening walking, and though anon my
wife came up to me and would have spoke of business to me, yet I construed it to be but impudence; and
though my heart was full, yet I did say nothing, being in great doubt what to do. So at night suffered them
to go all to bed and late put myself to bed in great discontent, and so to sleep.
27 May. So I waked by 3 a-clock, my mind being troubled; and so took occasion by making water to wake
my wife, and after having lain till past 4 a-clock, seemed going to rise, though I did it only to see what she
would do; and so going out of bed, she took hold of me and would know what ailed me; and after many
kind and some cross words, I begun to tax her discretion in yesterday’s business, but she quickly told me
my owne, knowing well enough that it was my old disease of jealousy; which I disowned, but to no
purpose. After an hour’s discourse, sometimes high and sometimes kind, I find very good reason to think
that her freedom with him was very great and more then was convenient, but with no evil intent.
29 May. To my brother [Tom’s] to speak with him, and so home and in my way did take two turns
forward and backward through the Fleete Ally to see a couple of pretty whores that stood off the doors
there; and God forgive me, I could scarse stay myself from going into their houses with them, so apt is my
nature to evil, after once, as I have these two days, set upon pleasure again.
1665
12 August. The people die so, that now it seems they are fain to carry the3 dead to be buried by daylight,
the nights not sufficing to do it in. And my Lord Mayor commands people to be within at 9 at night, all
(as they say) that the sick may have liberty to go abroad for ayre.
15 August. Up by 4 a-clock and walked to Greenwich, where called at Captain Cockes and to his chamber,
he being in bed – where something put my last night’s dream into my head, which I think is the best that
ever was dreamed – which was, that I had my Lady Castlemayne in my armes and was admitted to use all
the dalliance I desired with her, and then dreamed that this could not be awake but that it was only a
dream. But that since it was a dream and that I took so much real pleasure in it, what a happy thing it
would be, if when we are in our graves (as Shakespeere resembles it), we could dream, and dream but such
dreams as this – that then we should not need to be so fearful of death as we are this plague-time.
16 August. Up; and after doing some necessary business about my accounts at home, to the office and
there with Mr Hater wrote letters. And I did deliver to him my last will, one part of it to deliver to my wife
when I am dead. Thence to the Exchange, which I have not been a great while. But Lord, how sad a sight
it is to see the streets empty of people, and very few upon the Change – jealous of every door that one
sees shut up, lest it should be the plague – and about us, two shops in three, if not more, generally shut
up.
(from: Pepys, S. (1978) R. Latham and W. Matthews (eds.) The Diary of Samuel Pepys. London: Bell & Hyman)
Text 19: The Venerable Bede
Historia ecclesiastica gentis anglorum VENERABILIS BEDÆ
CHAP. XII. How the Britons, being ravaged by the Scots and Picts, sought succour from the Romans,
who coming a second time, built a wall across the island; but when this was broken down at once by the
aforesaid enemies, they were reduced to greater distress than before. [410-420 AD]
UT BRITONES A SCOTIS VASTATI PICTISQUE ROMANORUM AUXILIA QUÆSIERINT, QUI
SECUNDO VENIENTES MURUM TRANS INSULAM FECERINT; SED HOC CONFESTIM A
PRÆFATIS HOSTIBUS INTERRUPTO, MAJORE SINT CALAMITATE DEPRESSI.
Exin Britannia in parte Britonum omni armato milite, militaribus copiis universis, tota floridæ juventutis
alacritate, spoliata, quæ tyrannorum temeritate abducta nunquam ultra domum rediit, prædæ tantum patuit, utpote
omnis bellici usus prorsus ignara; denique subito duabus gentibus transmarinis vehementer sævis, Scotorum a circio,
Pictorum ab aquilone, multos stupet gemitque per annos. Transmarinas autem dicimus has gentes, non quod extra
Britanniam essent positæ, sed quia a parte Britonum erant remotæ, duobus sinibus maris interjacentibus, quorum
unus ab orientali mari, alter ab occidentali, Britanniæ terras longe lateque irrumpit, quamvis ad se invicem pertingere
non possint. Orientalis habet in medio sui urbem Giudi; occidentalis supra se, hoc est, ad dexteram sui, habet urbem
Alcluith, quod lingua eorum significat ‘Petram Cluith,’ est enim juxta fluvium nominis illius.
Ob harum ergo infestationem gentium Britones legatos Romam cum epistolis mittentes, lacrimosis precibus
auxilia flagitabant, subjectionemque continuam, dummodo hostis imminens longius arceretur, promittebant. Quibus
mox legio destinatur armata, quæ, ubi in insulam advecta et congressa est cum hostibus, magnam eorum
multitudinem sternens, ceteros sociorum finibus expulit, eosque interim a dirissima depressione liberatos hortata est
instruere inter duo maria trans insulam murum, qui arcendis hostibus posset esse præsidio; sicque domum cum
triumpho magno reversa est. At insulani murum, quem jussi fuerant, non tam lapidibus quam cespitibus
construentes, utpote nullum tanti operis artificem habentes, ad nihil utilem statuunt. Fecerunt autem eum inter duo
freta vel sinus, de quibus diximus, maris, per millia passuum plurima; ut ubi aquarum munitio deerat, ibi præsidio
valli fines suos ab hostium irruptione defenderent. Cujus operis ibidem facti, id est, valli latissimi et altissimi, usque
hodie certissima vestigia cernere licet. Incipit autem duorum ferme millium spatio a monasterio Abercuring ad
occidentem, in loco qui sermone Pictorum Peanfahel, lingua autem Anglorum Penneltun, appellatur; et tendens
contra occidentem terminatur juxta urbem Alcluith.
Verum priores inimici, ut Romanum militem abiisse conspexerant, mox advecti navibus irrumpunt terminos
cæduntque omnia, et quasi maturam segetem obvia quæque metunt, calcant, transeunt; unde rursum mittuntur
Roman legati, flebili voce auxilium implorantes, ne penitus misera patria deleretur, ne nomen Romanæ provinciæ,
quod apud eos tam diu claruerat, exterarum gentium improbitate obrutum vilesceret. Rursum mittitur legio, quæ
inopinata tempore autumni adveniens magnas hostium strages dedit eosque, qui evadere poterant, omnes trans maria
fugavit, qui prius anniversarias prædas trans maria, nullo obsistente, cogere solebant. Tum Romani denunciavere
Britonibus, non se ultra ob eorum defensionem tam laboriosis expeditionibus posse fatigari; ipsos potius monent
arma corripere et certandi cum hostibus studium subire, qui non aliam ob causam, quam si ipsi inertia solverentur, eis
possent esse fortiores. Quin etiam, quod et hoc sociis, quos derelinquere cogebantur, aliquid commodi allaturum
putabant, murum a mari ad mare recto tramite inter urbes, quæ ibidem ob metum hostium factæ fuerant, ubi et
Severus quondam vallum fecerat, firmo de lapide locarunt; quem videlicet murum hactenus famosum atque
conspicuum, sumtu publico privatoque, adjuncta secum Britannorum manu, construebant, octo pedes latum et
duodecim altum, recta ab oriente in occasum linea, ut usque hodie intuentibus clarum est; quo mox condito, dant
fortia segni populo monita, præbent instituendorum exemplaria armorum. Sed et in litore oceani ad meridiem, quo
naves eorum habebantur, quia et inde barbarorum irruptio timebatur, turres per intervalla ad prospectum maris
collocant, et valedicunt sociis tanquam ultra non reversuri.
Quibus ad sua remeantibus, cognita Scoti Pictique reditus denegatione redeunt confestim ipsi, et solito
confidentiores facti omnem aquilonalem extremamque insulæ partem pro indigenis ad murum usque capessunt.
Statuitur ad hæc in edito arcis acies segnis, ubi trementi corde stupida die noctuque marcebat; at contra non cessant
uncinata hostium tela, ignavi propugnatores miserrime de muris tracti solo allidebantur. Quid plura? relictis
civitatibus ac muro, fugiunt, disperguntur; insequitur hostis, accelerantur strages cunctis crudeliores prioribus. Sicut
enim agni a feris, ita miseri cives discerpuntur ab hostibus; unde a mansionibus ac possessiunculis suis ejecti,
imminens sibi famis periculum latrocinio ac rapacitate mutua temperabant, augentes externas domesticis motibus
clades, donec omnis regio totius cibi sustentaculo, excepto venandi solatio, vacuaretur.
FROM that time, the British part of Britain, destitute of armed soldiers, of all military stores, and of
the whole flower of its active youth, who had been led away by the rashness of the tyrants never to return,
was wholly exposed to rapine, the people being altogether ignorant of the use of weapons. Whereupon
they suffered many years from the sudden invasions of two very savage nations from beyond the sea, the
Scots from the west, and the Picts from the north. We call these nations from beyond the sea, not on
account of their being seated out of Britain, but because they were separated from that part of it which
was possessed by the Britons, two broad and long inlets of the sea lying between them, one of which
runs into the interior of Britain, from the Eastern Sea, and the other from the Western, though they do
not reach so far as to touch one another. The eastern has in the midst of it the city Giudi. On the Western
Sea, that is, on its right shore, stands the city of Alcluith, which in their language signifies the Rock Cluith,
for it is close by the river of that name.
On account of the attacks of these nations, the Britons sent messengers to Rome with letters piteously
praying for succour, and promising perpetual subjection, provided that the impending enemy should be
driven away. An armed legion was immediately sent them, which, arriving in the island, and engaging the
enemy, slew a great multitude of them, drove the rest out of the territories of their allies, and having in the
meanwhile delivered them from their worst distress, advised them to build a wall between the two seas
across the island, that it might secure them by keeping off the enemy. So they returned home with great
triumph. But the islanders building the wall which they had been told to raise, not of stone, since they had
no workmen capable of such a work, but of sods, made it of no use. Nevertheless, they carried it for many
miles between the two bays or inlets of the sea of which we have spoken; to the end that where the
protection of the water was wanting, they might use the rampart to defend their borders from the
irruptions of the enemies. Of the work there erected, that is, of a rampart of great breadth and height,
there are evident remains to be seen at this day. It begins at about two miles distance from the monastery
of Aebbercurnig, west of it, at a place called in the Pictish language Peanfahel, but in the English tongue,
Penneltun, and running westward, ends near the city of Aicluith.
But the former enemies, when they perceived that the Roman soldiers were gone, immediately coming
by sea, broke into the borders, trampled and overran all places, and like men mowing ripe corn, bore
down all before them. Hereupon messengers were again sent to Rome miserably imploring aid, lest their
wretched country should be utterly blotted out, and the name of a Roman province, so long renowned
among them, overthrown by the cruelties of foreign races, might become utterly contemptible. A legion
was accordingly sent again, and, arriving unexpectedly in autumn, made great slaughter of the enemy,
obliging all those that could escape, to flee beyond the sea; whereas before, they were wont yearly to carry
off their booty without any opposition. Then the Romans declared to the Britons, that they could not for
the future undertake such troublesome expeditions for their sake, and advised them rather to take up arms
and make an effort to engage their enemies, who could not prove too powerful for them, unless they
themselves were enervated by cowardice. Moreover, thinking that it might be some help to the allies,
whom they were forced to abandon, they constructed a strong stone wall from sea to sea, in a straight line
between the towns that had been there built for fear of the enemy, where Severus also had formerly built
a rampart. This famous wall, which is still to be seen, was raised at public and private expense, the Britons
also lending their assistance. It is eight feet in breadth, and twelve in height, in a straight line from east to
west, as is still evident to beholders. This being presently finished, they gave the dispirited people good
advice, and showed them how to furnish themselves with arms. Besides, they built towers to command a
view of the sea, at intervals, on the southern coast, where their ships lay, because there also the invasions
of the barbarians were apprehended, and so took leave of their allies, never to return again.
After their departure to their own country, the Scots and Picts, understanding that they had refused to
return, at once came back, and growing more confident than they had been before, occupied all the
northern and farthest part of the island, driving out the natives, as far as the wall. Hereupon a timorous
guard was placed upon the fortification, where, dazed with fear, they became ever more dispirited day by
day. On the other side, the enemy constantly attacked them with barbed weapons, by which the cowardly
defenders were dragged in piteous fashion from the wall, and dashed against the ground. At last, the
Britons, forsaking their cities and wall, took to flight and were scattered. The enemy pursued, and
forthwith followed a massacre more grievous than ever before; for the wretched natives were torn in
pieces by their enemies, as lambs are torn by wild beasts. Thus, being expelled from their dwellings and
lands, they saved themselves from the immediate danger of starvation by robbing and plundering one
another, adding to the calamities inflicted by the enemy their own domestic broils, till the whole country
was left destitute of food except such as could be procured in the chase.
CHAP. XIII. How in the reign of Theodosius the younger, in whose time Palladius was sent to the
Scots that believed in Christ, the Britons begging assistance of Aetius, the consul, could not obtain it.
[446 A.D.]
UT, REGNANTE THEODOSIO MINORE, CUJUS TEMPORE PALLADIUS AD SCOTOS IN CHRISTUM
CREDENTES MISSUS EST, BRITONES AB ÆTIO CONSULE AUXILIUM FLAGITANTES NON
IMPETRAVERINT.
Anno Dominicæ incarnationis quadringentesimo vigesimo tertio, Theodosius junior post Honorium quadragesimus
quintus ab Augusto, regnum suscipiens viginti et sex annis tenuit; cujus anno imperii octavo, Palladius ad Scotos in
Christum credentes a pontifice Romanæ ecclesiæ Celestino primus mittitur episcopus. Anno autem regni ejus
vigesimo tertio Ætius, vir illustris, qui et patricius fuit, tertium cum Symmacho gessit consulatum. Ad hunc
pauperculæ Britonum reliquiæ mittunt epistolam, cujus hoc principium est; “Ætio ter consuli, gemitus Britannorum;”
et in processu epistolæ ita suas calamitates explicant; “Repellunt barbari ad mare, repellit mare ad barbaros; inter hæc
oriuntur duo genera funerum, aut jugulamur, aut mergimur.” Neque hæc tamen agentes quicquam ab illo auxilii
impetrare quiverunt, utpote qui gravissimis eo tempore bellis cum Bledla et Attila, regibus Hunnorum, erat
occupatus.
In the year of our Lord 423, Theodosius, the younger, the forty-fifth from Augustus, succeeded
Honorius and governed the Roman empire twenty-six years. In the eighth year of his reign, Palladius was
sent by Celestinus, the Roman pontiff, to the Scots that believed in Christ, to be their first bishop. In
the twenty-third year of his reign, Aetius, a man of note and a patrician, discharged his third consulship
with Symmachus for his colleague. To him the wretched remnant of the Britons sent a letter, which began
thus :—"To Aetius, thrice Consul, the groans of the Britons." And in the sequel of the letter they thus
unfolded their woes:—" The barbarians drive us to the sea; the sea drives us back to the barbarians:
between them we are exposed to two sorts of death; we are either slaughtered or drowned." Yet, for all
this, they could not obtain any help from him, as he was then engaged in most serious wars with Bledla
and Attila, kings of the Huns.
From: The Complete Works of Venerable Bede, in the original Latin, collated with the Manuscripts, and various
printed editions, and accompanied by a new English translation of the Historical Works, and a Life of the
Author. By the Rev. J.A. Giles (London: Whittaker and Co., 1843). 8 vols.
The Venerable Bede (c. 673-735) Ecclesiastical History of England (Modern English translation
by A.M Sellar) http://www.ccel.org/ccel/bede/history.html
Text 20: The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle: The Scots-English Conflict (cont’d.)
1138
On þis gær com Dauid king of Scotlande mid ormete færd to þis land. wolde winnan þis land.
7 him com togænes Willelm eorl of Albamar þe þe king adde beteht Euorwic 7 to other æuez
men mid fæu men 7 fuhten wid heom. 7 flemden þe king æt te Standard. 7 sloghen suithe
micel of his genge.
A.D. 1138. In this year came David, King of Scotland, with an immense army to this land. He was
ambitious to win this land; but against him came William, Earl of Albemarle, to whom the king had
committed York, and other borderers, with few men, and fought against them, and routed the king at
the Standard, and slew very many of his gang.
Text 21: Robert Burns “Address to a Haggis” (1786)
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o’ the pudding-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o’ a grace
As lang’s my arm
(from Poems and Songs)
Text 22: Scots Leid: Aboot William Loughton Lorimer
The Translate
Lorimer haed aye been interestit in the Scots leid (syne he wis a bairn o nine year auld he haed
written doun Scots wirds an eedioms) an his kennin o the strauchles o minority leids that he got
frae his readins o the neutral press durin the Weir led him tae feel that something needit daein tae
rescue the Scots leid. He becam convinced, that gin Socts wis tae be ruised up frae the laich status
that it haed fawen tae, it needit twa main things first: I) a guid modren dictionar an II) a guid
modren translate o The New Testament that maist weel-read fowk an mony ithers wad be
fameeliar wi. Sometime aboot September 1945, he decidit tae yoke tae on pittin The New Testament
ower intil Scots. Bein an unco dab-haund wi leids, he read throu mony translates o New Testament
beuks (for exemplar he reads throu at least 174 translates o the cutty beuk o Philemon in twintythree leids includin aicht in the Laitin, twa in the Coptic, twa in Syriac, twa in Nether-Saxon,
twinty-three in German, sieven in Dens, five in Norrowegian, three in Swadish, ane in Faeroese,
sax in Dutch, twa in Fleems, twinty-twa in French, ane in Occitanian, twa in Catalan, fowerteen
in Italian, fower in Rhaeto-Romaunsch, fower in Modren Greek, twa in Scots, fowerty-aicht in
Inglis an ane in Esperanto).
His first drauchts wis begoued in 1957, an bi early 1961 he stairtit wark on The Gospels that teuk
him twa year an three month tae feenish the first drauchts o. The last o the first drauchts (that
seems tae hae been Hebrews) wis feenished on the 10t o October 1965. It haed sae faur taen him
aicht year tae pit the hail New Testament ower intil Scots. Bi nou he wis aichty year auld, an aw he
haed wis the first draucht. He stairtit his reveesions o the drauchts, but as it cam tae be clearer
that he wadna leeve muckle langer, he stairtit makkin jottins anent whit he wantit duin wi the
warks - anent spellins an sae furth.
As he seems tae hae kent, Lorimer wadna leeve tae feenish his great darg. He dee'd in 1967 wi
maist o his manuscripts unrevised. The wark passed on tae his son, Robert Lorimer, wha uised
his faither's jottins for guidal as he revised an edited the texts. In 1983, twinty-sax year efter
Lorimer begoud his first drauchts an saxteen year efter he dee'd, The New Testament In Scots wis
finally setten furth.
It wes an instant success, sellin out the hail first print-rin in jist thrie week, an haes been
established synesen as ane o the great classics o Scots leitature
(]http://www.list.co.uk/article/2792-the-new-testament-in-scots-trans-william-laughton-lorimer1983/]), an ane o the heidmaist Scots warks o the 20t century, an can be aften fun in lists o great
Scottish buiks
Style
Lorimer wis aye keen tae evyte scrievin in ae style, but raither wantit tae pit ower the sindry
styles o the oreeginal scrievers wi deeferent styles o Scots. Pairt o this wis won at wi his spellins
(see ablo), but wi the prose styles an aw. Abuin aw, Lorimer's hamelt style wis able tae mak sic
fowk as Jesus an Peter kythe as jyners an fisherfowk bi evytin makkin thaim spaek in airteeficial,
heichly elevatit styles as they dae in mony translates. At the same time, his prose haes the
musardie that chairacterises Scots prose - alleeterations (Ye canna sair God an Gowd - Matt 6:24),
plentifu eedioms (Black s' be your faa - Matt 23:13), seemalies (My speech will be like the cheepin o a spug
tae him, an his will be like the chitterin o a swallow tae me - I Cor 14:11) an sae furth. In daein sae,
Lorimer shawed himsel tae be a maister o Greek eedioms forby - as in the last exemplar that gaes
intil muckle depth anent the oreegins o the Greek wird βάρβαρος (bárbaros).
Spellin
For tae represent mair better the deeferent styles o Greek uised bi the scrievers o The New
Testament Lorimer held back frae uisin a staundart orthography in his translate, jottin himsel that
"Jesus spakna staundart Aramaic" . For tae win at this, Lorimer sortit the documents o The New
Testament intil twal authorial units that wad hae internal orthographic conseestancy, tho they wad
be slichtly deeferent frae ilk ither. Thir authorial units wis:
• Matthew
• Mark [ootwi 2 (a) an 16: 9-20]
• Luke, Acts
• John, I John, II John, III John [ootwi 4 (a) Jn. 7:53- 8:11: 4 (b), Jn. 21]
• Paul - inc. Romans, I an II Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, Colossians, I an II
Thessalonians, Philemon, an Ephesians
• Pastorals inc. I an II Timothy an Titus
• Hebrews
• Jeames
• I Peter
• II Peter
• Jude
• Revelation
Uisin thir authorial units alloued Lorimer tae wirk aboot orthographical issues that haedna been
redd at the time (mony o them still haesna) sic as the uiss o aa/aw an oo/ou. He coud uise aw the
variants tae gie ilk authorial unit its ain chairacter as it haes in the Greek but no in ither leids sic
as the Inglis translate that maist Scots wis fameeliar wi. Forby he rejectit the uiss o the apologetic
apostrophe an usises-it-na ava. Lorimer uised accents as a haund for thaim that's no acquent wi
Scots for tae shaw whit vouel soonds is tae be uised - e.g. he uises thaim in wirds sic as Spírit
['spi:rɪt] an Generâtion
(from: http://sco.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Laughton_Lorimer)
Text 23: Samuel Johnson: Preface to a Dictionary of the English Language
(1755)
When I took the firſt ſurvey of my undertaking, I found our ſpeech copious without order, and
energetick without rules: wherever I turned my view, there was perplexity to be diſentangled, and
confuſion to be regulated; choice was to be made out of boundleſs variety, without any eſtabliſhed
principle of ſelection; adulterations were to be detected, without a ſettled teſt of purity; and modes of
expreſſion to be rejected or received, without the ſuffrages of any writers of claſſical reputation or
acknowledged authority.
Having therefore no aſſiſtance but from general grammar, I applied myſelf to the peruſal of our
writers; and noting whatever might be of uſe to aſcertain or illuſtrate any word or phraſe, accumulated in
time the materials of a dictionary, which, by degrees, I reduced to method, eſtabliſhing to myſelf, in the
progreſs of the work, ſuch rules as experience and analogy ſuggeſted to me; experience, which practice and
obſervation were continually increaſing; and analogy, which, though in ſome words obſcure, was evident
in others.
So far have I been from any care to grace my pages with modern decorations, that I have ſtudiouſly
endeavoured to collect examples and authorities from the writers before the reſtoration, whoſe works I
regard as the wells of Engliſh undefiled, as the pure ſources of genuine diction. Our language, for almoſt a
century, has, by the concurrence of many cauſes, been gradually departing from its original Teutonick
character, and deviating towards a Gallick ſtructure and phraſeology, from which it ought to be our
endeavour to recal it, by making our ancient volumes the ground-work of ſtile, admitting among the
additions of later times, only ſuch as may ſupply real deficiencies, ſuch as are readily adopted by the genius
of our tongue, and incorporate eaſily with our native idioms.
But as every language has a time of rudeneſs antecedent to perfection, as well as of falſe refinement and
declenſion, I have been cautious leſt my zeal for antiquity might drive me into times too remote, and
croud my book with words now no longer underſtood. I have fixed Sidney's work for the boundary,
beyond which I make few excurſions. From the authours which roſe in the time of Elizabeth, a ſpeech
might be formed adequate to all the purpoſes of uſe and elegance. If the language of theology were
extracted from Hooker and the tranſlation of the Bible; the terms of natural knowledge from Bacon; the
phraſes of policy, war, and navigation from Raleigh; the dialect of poetry and fiction from Spenſer and
Sidney; and the diction of common life from Shakeſpeare, few ideas would be loſt to mankind, for want of
Engliſh words, in which they might be expreſſed.
Nor are all words which are not found in the vocabulary, to be lamented as omiſſions. Of the laborious
and mercantile part of the people, the diction is in a great meaſure caſual and mutable; many of their terms
are formed for ſome temporary or local convenience, and though current at certain times and places, are
in others utterly unknown. This fugitive cant, which is always in a ſtate of increaſe or decay, cannot be
regarded as any part of the durable materials of a language, and therefore muſt be ſuffered to periſh with
other things unworthy of preſervation.
Total and ſudden tranſformations of a language ſeldom happen; conqueſts and migrations are now
very rare: but there are other cauſes of change, which, though ſlow in their operation, and inviſible in their
progreſs, are perhaps as much ſuperiour to human reſiſtance, as the revolutions of the ſky, or
intumeſcence of the tide. Commerce, however neceſſary, however lucrative, as it depraves the manners,
corrupts the language; they that have frequent intercourſe with ſtrangers, to whom they endeavour to
accommodate themſelves, muſt in time learn a mingled dialect, like the jargon which ſerves the traffickers
on the Mediterranean and Indian coaſts. This will not always be confined to the exchange, the warehouſe, or
the port, but will be communicated by degrees to other ranks of the people, and be at laſt incorporated
with the current ſpeech.
The great peſt of ſpeech is frequency of tranſlation. No book was ever turned from one language into
another, without imparting ſomething of its native idiom; this is the moſt miſchievous and comprehenſive
innovation; ſingle words may enter by thouſands, and the fabrick of the tongue continue the ſame, but
new phraſeology changes much at once; it alters not the ſingle ſtones of the building, but the order of the
columns. If an academy ſhould be eſtabliſhed for the cultivation of our ſtile, which I, who can never wiſh
to ſee dependance multiplied, hope the ſpirit of Engliſh liberty will hinder or deſtroy, let them, inſtead of
compiling grammars and dictionaries, endeavour, with all their influence, to ſtop the licence of
tranſlatours, whoſe idleneſs and ignorance, if it be ſuffered to proceed, will reduce us to babble a dialect of
France. (http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext04/pengl10.txt; The Project Gutenberg EBook of Preface to
a Dictionary of the English Language)
Text 24: 19th century English: London English
Charles Dickens “Samuel Weller Makes a Pilgrimage to Dorking and
Beholds his Mother-in-law” [1836] (from The Pickwick Papers, no. 27)
Sam Weller, Mr. Pickwick’s servant, has gone to visit his “mother-in-law” (= step-mother) at the pub she and Sam’s father
run, the Marquis of Granby in Dorking. She is sitting at the fire with Mr. Stiggins, a vice-shepherd (assistant pastor) and
free-loader. Stiggins (and Mrs. Weller) have been collecting money for “our noble society for providing the infant negroes in the
West Indies with flannel waistcoats and moral pocket-handkerchiefs.” Sam doesn’t understand what the latter are:
“What’s a moral pocket-ankercher?” said Sam; “I never see one o’ the articles o’ furniter.”
“Those which combine amusement with instruction, my young friend,” replied Mr. Stiggins, “blending
select tales with wood-cuts.”
[Eventually, Sam’s father shows up:]
The tea-things had been scarcely put away, and the hearth swept up, when the London coach deposited
Mr. Weller, senior, at the door; his legs deposited him in the bar; and his eyes showed him his son.
“What, Sammy!” exclaimed the father.
“What, old Nobs!” ejaculated the son. And they shook hands heartily. ...
“It cert’nly seems a queer start to send out pocket-‘ankerchers to people as don’t know the use on ‘em,”
observed Sam.
“They’re alvays a-doin’ some gammon of that sort, Sammy,” replied his father. “T’other Sunday I wos
walkin’ up the road, wen who should I see, a-standin’ at a chapel door, with a blue soup-plate in her hand,
but your mother-in-law” I werily believe there was change for a couple o’ suv’rins in it, then, Sammy, all in
ha’pence; and as the people come out, they rattled the pennies in it, till you’d ha’ thought that no mortal
plate as ever was baked, could ha’ stood the wear and tear. What d’ye think it was all for?”
“For another tea-drinkin’, perhaps,” said Sam.
“Not a bit on it,” replied the father; “for the shepherd’s water-rate, Sammy.”
“The shepherd’s water-rate!” said Sam.
“Ay,” replied Mr. Weller, “there was three quarters owin’, and the shepherd hadn’t paid a farden, not he
– perhaps it might be on account that the water warn’t o’ much use to him, for it’s wery little o’ that tap he
drinks, Sammy, wery; he knows a trick worth a good half-dozen of that, he does. Hows’ever, it warn’t
paid, and so they cuts the water off. Down goes the shepherd to chapel,k gives out as he’s a persecuted
saint, and says he hopes the heart of the turncock as cut the water off, ‘ll be softened, and turned in the
right vay, but he rather thinks he’s booked for somethin’ uncomfortable. Upon this, the women calls a
meetin’ sings a hymn, wotes your mother-in-law into the chair, wolunteers a col-lection next Sunday, and
hands it all over to the shepherd. And if he ain’t got enough out on ‘em, Sammy, to make him free of the
water company for life,” said Mr. Weller, in conclusion, “I’m one Dutchman, and you’re another, and
that’s all about it.”
Mr. Weller smoked for some minutes in silence, and then resumed –
“The worst o’ these here shepherds is, my boy, that they reg’larly turns the heads of all the young ladies,
about here. Lord bless their little hearts, they thinks it’s all right, and don’t know no better; but they’re the
wictims o’ gammon, Samivel, they’re the wictims of gammon.”
...
Sam was up betimes next day, and having partaken of a hasty breakfast, prepared to return to London.
He had scarcely set foot without the house, when his father stood before him.
“Goin’, Sammy?” inquired Mr. Weller.
“Off at once,” replied Sam.
“I vish you could muffle that ‘ere Stiggins, and take him vith you,” said Mr. Weller.
“I am ashamed on you!” said Sam reproachfully; “what do you let him show his red nose in the Markis
o’ Granby at all, for?”
Mr. Weller the elder fixed on his son an earnest look, and replied, “ ‘Cause I’m a married man, Samivel,
‘cause I’m a married man. Ven you’re a married man, Samivel, you’ll understand a good many things as
you don’t understand now; but vether it’s worth goin’ through so much, to learn so little as the charity-boy
said ven he got to the end of the alphabet, is a matter o’ taste. I rather think it isn’t.
“Well,” said Sam, “good-bye.”
“Tar, tar, Sammy,” replied his father.
“I’ve only got to say this here,” said Sam, stopping short, “that if I was the properiator o’ the Markis o’
Granby, and that ‘ere Stiggins came and made toast in my bar, I’d –
“What?” interposed Mr. Weller, with great anxiety. “What?”
“Pison his rum-and-water,” said Sam.
“No!” said Mr. Weller, shaking his son eagerly by the hand, “would you raly, Sammy – would you,
though?”
“I would,” said Sam. “I wouldn’t be too hard upon him at first. I’d drop him in the water-butt, and put
the lid on; and if I found he was insensible to kindness, I’d try the other persvasion.”
(from: Charles Dickens. The Pickwick Papers. 3rd ed. London: Collins, 1953 [1837], chap. 27, 373-377)
Text 25: English in Ireland: Excerpt from Brian Friel’s Translations [1981].
In this play the British Army is in charge and mapping Ireland – in the words of Captain Lancey, “His Majesty’s
government has ordered the first ever comprehensive survey of this entire country – a general triangulation which will embrace
detailed hydrographic and topographic information and which will be executed to a scale of six inches to the English mile”
(406) Furthermore, the names on the land will be “rectified” – a task which is to fall to Yolland and which means they will
be translated into English.
Act Two, Scene II
MAIRE: O my God, that leap across the ditch nearly killed me.
YOLLAND: I could scarcely keep up with you.
MAIRE: Wait till I get my breath back.
YOLLAND: We must have looked as if we were being chased.
(They now realize they are alone and holding hands – the beginnings of embarrassment. The hands disengage. They
begin to drift apart. Pause.)
MAIRE: Manus’ll wonder where I’ve got to.
YOLLAND: I wonder did anyone notice us leave.
(Pause. Lightly further apart.)
MAIRE: The grass must be wet. My feet are soaking.
YOLLAND: Your feet must be wet. The grass is soaking.
(Another pause. Another few paces apart. They are now a long distance from one another.)
YOLLAND: (Indicating himself) George.
(MAIRE nods: Yes-yes. then:– )
MAIRE: Lieutenant George.
YOLLAND: Don’t call me that. I never think of myself as Lieutenant.
MAIRE: What-what?
YOLLAND: Sorry-sorry? (He points to himself again.) George.
(MAIRE nods: Yes-yes. Then points to herself.)
MAIRE: Maire.
YOLLAND: Yes, I know you’re Maire. Of course I know you’re Maire. I mean I’ve been watching you
night and day for the past –
MAIRE: (Eagerly) What-what?
YOLLAND: (Points) Maire. (Points) George. (Points both.) Maire and George.
(MAIRE nods: Yes-yes-yes.)
I–I–I–
MAIRE: Say anything at all. I love the sound of your speech.
YOLLAND: (Eagerly) Sorry-sorry?
(In acute frustration he looks around, hoping for some inspiration that will provide him with communicative means.
Now he has a thought: he tries raising his voice and articulating in a staccato style and with equal and absurd
emphaqsis on each word.)
Every-morning-I-see-you-feeding-brown-hens-and-giving-meal-to-black-calf – (The futility of it) –
O my God.
(MAIRE smiles. She moves towards him. She will try to communicate in Latin.)
MAIRE: Tu es centurio in – in – in exercitu Britannico –
YOLLAND: Yes-yes? Go on – go on – say anything at all – I love the sound of your speech.
MAIRE: - et es in castris quae – quae – quae sunt in agro – (The futility of it) – O my God.
(YOLLAND smiles. He moves towards her. Now for her English words.) George – water.
YOLLAND: ‘Water’? Water! Oh yes – water - water – very good – water – good – good.
MAIRE: Fire
YOLLAND: Fire – indeed – wonderful – fire, fire, fire – splendid – splendid!
MAIRE: Ah … ha …
YOLLAND: Yes? Go on.
MAIRE: Earth.
YOLLAND: ‘Earth’?
MAIRE: Earth. Earth.
(YOLLAND still does not understand. MAIRE stoops down and picks up a handful of clay. Holding it out.)
Earth.
YOLLAND: Earth! Of course – earth! Earth. Earth. Good Lord, Maire, your English is perfect!
MAIRE: (Eagerly) What-what?
YOLLAND: Perfect English. English perfect.
MAIRE: George –
YOLLAND: That’s beautiful – oh, that’s really beautiful.
MAIRE: George –
YOLLAND: Say it again – say it again –
MAIRE: Shhh. (She holds her hand up for silence – she is trying to remember her one line of English. Now she remembers
it and she delivers the line as if English were her language – easily, fluidly, conversationally.)
George, ‘In Norfolk we besport ourselves around the maypoll.’
YOLLAND: Good God,do you? That’s where my mother comes from – Norfolk. Norwich actually. Not
exactly Norwich town but a small village called Little Walsingham close beside it. But in our own
village of Winfarthing we have a maypole too and every year on the first of May – (He stops
abruptly, only now realizing. He stares at her. She in turn misunderstands his excitement.)
MAIRE: (To herself) Mother of God, my Aunt Mary wouldn’t have taught me something dirty, would she?
(Pause. YOLLAND extends his hand to MAIRE. She turns away from him and moves slowly across the stage.)
YOLLAND: Maire.
(She still moves away.)
Maire Chatach.
(She still moves away.)
Bun na hAbhann? (He says the name softly, almost privately, very tentatively, as if he were searching for a sound
she might respond to. He tries again.) Druim Dubh?
(MAIRE stops. She is listening. YOLLAND is encouraged.)
Poll na gCaorach. Lis Maol
(MAIRE turns towards him.)
Lis na nGall.
MAIRE: Lis na nGradh.
(They are now facing each other and begin moving – almost imperceptibly – towards one another.)
MAIRE: Carraig an Phoill.
YOLLAND: Carraig na Ri. Loch na nEan.
MAIRE: Loch an Iubhair. Machaire Buidhe.
YOLLAND: Machaire Mor. Cnoc na Mona.
MAIRE: Cnoc na nGabhar.
YOLLAND: Mullach.
MAIRE: Port.
YOLLAND: Tor.
MAIRE: Lag.
(She holds out her hands to YOLLAND. He takes them. Each now speaks almost to himself/herself.)
YOLLAND: I wish to God you could understand me.
MAIRE: Soft hands; a gentleman’s hands.
YOLLAND: Because if you could understand me I could tell you how I spend my days either thinking of
you or gazing up at your house in the hope that you’ll appear even for a second.
MAIRE: Every evening you walk by yourself along the Tra Bhan and every morning you wash yourself in
front of your tent.
YOLLAND: I would tell you how beautiful you are, curly-headed Maire. I would so like to tell you how
beautiful you are.
MAIRE: Your arms are long and thin and the skin on your shoulders is very white.
YOLLAND: I would tell you …
MAIRE: Don’t stop – I know what you’re saying.
YOLLAND: I would tell you how I want to be here – to live here – always – with you – always, always.
MAIRE: ‘Always’? What is that word – ‘always’?
YOLLAND: Yes-yes; always.
MAIRE: You’re trembling.
YOLLAND: Yes, I’m trembling because of you.
MAIRE: I’m trembling, too.
(She holds his face in her hand.)
YOLLAND: I’ve made up my mind …
MAIRE: Shhhh.
YOLLAND: I’m not going to leave here …
MAIRE: Shhh – listen to me. I want you, too, soldier.
YOLLAND: Don’t stop – I know what you’re saying.
MAIRE: I want to live with you – anywhere – anywhere at all – always – always.
YOLLAND: ‘Always’? What is that word – ‘always’?
MAIRE: Take me away with you, George.
(Pause. Suddenly they kiss. …)
(426-430)
Act three
LANCEY: I understood there was a class. Where are the others?
OWEN: There was to be a class but my father –
LANCEY: this will suffice. I will address them and it will be their responsibility to pass on what I have to
say to every family in this section.
(LANCEY indicates to OWEN to translate. OWEN hesitates, trying to assess the change in LANCEY’s
manner and attitude.)
I’m in a hurry, O’Donnell.
OWEN: The captain has an announcement to make.
LANCEY: Lieutenant Yolland is missing. We are searching for him. If we don’t find him, or if we receive
no information as to where he is to be found, I will pursue the following course of action. (He
indicates to OWEN to translate.)
OWEN: They are searching for George. If they don’t find him –
LANCEY: Commencing twenty-four hours from now we will shoot all livestock in Ballybeg.
(OWEN starts at LANCEY.)
At once.
OWEN: Beginning this time tomorrow they’ll killevery animal in Baile Beag – unless they’re told where
George is.
LANCEY: If that doesn’t bear results, commencing forty-eight hours from now we will embark on a series
of evictions and levelling of every abode in the following selected areas –
OWEN: You’re not – !
LANCEY: Do your job. Translate.
OWEN: If they still haven’t found him in tewo days time they’ll begin evicting and levelling every house
starting with these townlands.
(LANCEY reads from his list.)
LANCEY: Swinefort.
OWEN: Lis na Muc.
LANCEY: Burnfoot.
OWEN. Bun na hAbhann.
LANCEY: Dromduff.
OWEN: Drium Bubh.
LANCEY: Whiteplains.
OWEN: Machaire Ban.
LANCEY: Kings Head.
OWEN: Cnoc na Ri.
LANCEY: If by then the lieutenant hasn’t been found, we will proceed until a complete clearance is made
of this entire section.
OWEN: If Yolland hasn’t been got by then, they will ravish the whole parish. (438-440)
(438-440)
[much later; only the teacher, Hugh, is present]
(MAIRE enters.)
MAIRE: I’m back again. I set out for somewhere but I couldn’t remember where. So I came back here.
HUGH: Yes, I will teach you English, Maire Chatach.
MAIRE: Will you, Master? I must learn it. I need to learn it.
HUGH: Indeed you may well be my only pupil.
(He goes towards the steps and begins to ascend.)
MAIRE: When can we start?
HUGH: Not today. Tomorrow perhaps. … We’ll begin tomorrow. (Ascending.) But don’t expect too much.
I will provide you with the available words and the available grammar. But will that help you to
interpret between privacies? I have no idea. But it’s all we have. I have no idea at all.
(He is now up at the top.)
MAIRE: Master, what does the English word ‘always’ mean?
HUGH: Semper – per omnia saecula. The Greeks called it ‘aei’ It’s not a word I’d start with. It’s a silly word,
girl.
(446)
(from: Brian Friel. Selected Plays. London: Faber and Faber, 1984)