(for Jules Riley)
translation of the libretto by Mary Burdett-Jones
Storyteller (soprano)
Melangell (mezzo soprano)
Cufwlch, Melangell’s father, an Irish king (bass)
Ethni, Melangell’s mother, an Irish queen (contralto)
Warrior (tenor)
Brochfael, a Welsh king (baritone)
Chorus (courtiers, huntsmen, nuns)
OVERTURE
(back projection of ghostly shapes of animals from the carvings from the rood screen at Pennant Melangell against the setting sun)
ACT 1
(The audience is in darkness and a light focuses on an old woman sitting on a stool on the left. She looks into a smoky fire with a candle by her side, then turns to face the audience.)
Storyteller (recitativo, using the lower part of the voice):
By candle light
we see the faces of the past.
From the peat smoke
we recreate the days gone by.
That is the pleasure of an old woman
who returned to the valley.
By the head of the stream
I sang again
my song of grief
for my lover.
(She rises and sings using the upper part of the voice)
Sad are the days of summer
when there is blue sky
above the hill.
Sad are the days of summer
when the water is shallow
at the base of the coombe.
From the sweet darkness of the bush
he plucked for me a rose.
Sad are the days of summer
when there is a white moon
on the face of the lake.
(She sits down; recitativo):
I went on a pilgrimage
to see her cell
and lie on her stone bed,
then went into the church
to pray by the reliquary
of Saint Melangell,
the Irish princess,
who healed people.
(The light moves to the centre of the stage where Melangell stands.)
Melangell (recitativo):
I am tired
of the life of the court.
I long for the time
when I was free
to wander the mountains
and sit by the loch
in contemplation,
to pray,
and compose
my songs.
(sings) I feel a longing in the sea, on mountains,
in the gentleness of the breeze and in the softness of rain
for what will come in the course of time
but live in the joy of the present
knowing that I can touch
people in the heart through my poems.
(Cufwlch and Ethni and men and women of the court process onto the stage from the left.)
Chorus: Hail King!
Hail Queen!
Hail Princess!
Cufwlch (sitting on his throne) sings:
My daughter!
O! your beauty –
your white skin,
your broad forehead,
your red hair,
your blue eyes.
It is time for you to marry.
Ethni sings: My daughter!
O! your beauty –
your white skin,
your broad forehead,
your red hair,
your blue eyes.
It is time for you to marry.
Melangell (recitativo):
Why do I have to marry?
Cufwlch (recitativo):
To be the mother of an heir,
the mother of warriors,
the mother of victorious men.
Ethni (recitativo):
Here is the husband for you,
your father’s choice,
a hero in battle,
a victor in war.
(The Warrior steps from the right towards the centre of the stage and sings.)
Warrior sings: O! your beauty –
your white skin,
your broad forehead,
your red hair,
your blue eyes.
My strength as a boy
and the feats I performed
were a sign
I was destined
to lead my people.
Men saw light
around my head
in battle,
Chorus sings: A shield in battle,
he killed the enemy.
Death, death,
death to the enemy.
Melangell (recitativo):
O! Blood, death!
Warrior: a sign of the favour
of the gods.
Melangell: His gods!
Warrior sings: So when a friend
boasted in a feast
he was my competitor
I killed him at once
with my sword.
Chorus sings: Death, death,
death to the enemy.
Melangell (recitativo):
O! Blood! Death!
Warrior sings:
In the oaken palace of my father
I have the champion’s dish,
the booty meat
from the cauldron on the fire.
Cufwlch sings:
In the oaken palace of his father
he has the champion’s dish,
the booty meat
from the cauldron on the fire.
Melangell (recitativo):
Killing and looting.
Warrior (sings):
In the court which is windowed with glass
and adorned with gems,
you will have precedence
over all the women.
Ethni (sings):
In the court which is windowed with glass
and adorned with gems,
you will have precedence
over all the women.
Melangell (recitativo):
I do not want
the life of the court.
Warrior (sings):
I swear an oath by the gods
by whom my people swear
that you will be
my wife.
That is my destiny –
that is your destiny –
our bodies will die
into each other as lovers.
Chorus: Death, death.
Melangell (singing):
No! It is from the mountains
that my poems come.
I must flee
to another country
to worship my God.
(She flees from the stage to the right.)
INTERVAL
ACT II
(The stage is dark.)
Storyteller (sitting; recitativo):
Melangell sailed in a coracle
over the sea and landed in Gwynedd.
She travelled in winter
across Wales, through Powys
until she reached the beautiful valley of Pennant
and settled there but
she sang a song of longing
for her mother country.
(The light moves to the centre of the stage where Melangell is standing.)
Melangell (singing):
With my eyes on the earth
I saw colour between
the fine lines of winter,
the blue and green
of trees gathered together,
movement in their still heart
as the earth breathes,
and the breast of cornfields –
Éire.
(The light moves back to the storyteller.)
Storyteller (recitativo):
I stared at the carvings
relating her story:
she was in her bower,
a court of twigs with
its gems intertwined,
in a clearing
in the forest.
Melangell (sitting and reading, then singing with the lower part of the voice):
It is strange to read translations
of the prayers of my youth.
Yet there is the charm of recollection
of things not quite understood
in this old language
which is new to me.
There is comfort in the old Latin words:
(rises and sings):
O magnum mysterium
et admirabile sacramentum
ut animalia viderent Dominum natum
iacentem in praesepio.
Beata Virgo cujus viscera
meruerunt portare
Dominum Christum.
Alleluia.
(A scurry of light represents the hare; sound of hounds, a hunting horn, and bells on the horse’s harness; the light moves to the right of the stage and Brochfael and the huntsmen stride on; the hounds stand still and silent.)
Brochfael (with his arms spread and a sword in his right hand, singing):
I am a huntsman who rises early.
The voice of the hounds
is like church bells,
music which invites a man
to come to the fields of summer
and to the darkness of forests.
(recitativo) I own the land
and all the creatures in it.
Let me have
the hare
which is hiding under your cloak.
(sound of hounds baying)
Melangell (sings):
Although it is out of breath
the poor creature is safe
from the fangs of your dogs
which would have torn it
into bloody pieces
in the bramble bush.
See, they are standing silent
as if they had been carved in oak.
The huntsman kneels
on one knee
with the horn in his hand
but it will stick to his lips.
The hounds will retreat.
(sound of baying hounds growing quieter)
They know that
I am a princess.
I am not afraid of you
on your splendid stallion.
Brochfael (sings):
The creature has gained refuge,
a fine sanctuary.
It’s looking at me boldly.
Onwards, huntsmen!
Onwards, dogs!
Onwards, hounds!
Huntsman! Sound the horn!
(no sound comes from the horn: silence)
Chorus of huntsmen (recitativo):
No sound comes from the horn!
(sings): Oh! Her beauty –
don’t you see her white skin,
her broad forehead,
her red hair,
and her blue eyes?
Like a tender mother
she guards
the hare.
How can we trespass
on the land of a pure virgin?
Brochfael (recitativo):
How long have you been here?
What is your name?
Melangell (sings):
For fifteen years
Melangell has been here,
sleeping on a hard bed,
without seeing a man’s face,
in order to worship God
and serve the Virgin Mary.
Like the hare I too seek refuge,
a cell where I can
make prayer
the work of my life.
Brochfael (recitativo):
You have proven
your faith in Jesus.
You shall have your wish.
(sings) I give you this land
and the right of sanctuary over the valley.
You may pray
ceaslessly
surrounded by
creatures.
You shall be a shepherdess,
and the hares shall be your flock.
Melangell’s lambs
will no longer be killed.
(Brochfael and the hunters leave the stage; the light moves to the left.)
Storyteller (recitativo):
Now the hare
can sleep
without fear
in its open bed.
Melangell founded a nunnery
where other women
could live simply without fear of man
and worship God.
She built a church
and sang about the Tree of Life.
(The light moves to the right.)
Melangell (sings):
In a limewashed
monastery
polished wood
looks so rich,
reflects
the movement of light.
(The light moves to the left.)
Storyteller (recitativo):
After many years Melangell died.
She was buried on consecrated land.
Her shrine became
the destination of pilgrims
where I was healed in body and soul.
Her feast was celebrated.
(The light moves to the right where Melangell is sitting on a chair on a red cushion, holding a foliated crosier in her left hand and a book in the other.)
Chorus of nuns (singing, then processing from the stage)
O magnum mysterium
et admirabile sacramentum
ut animalia viderent Dominum natum
iacentem in praesepio.
Beata Virgo cujus viscera
meruerunt portare
Dominum Christum.
Alleluia!
The light moves to the left.)
Storyteller (recitativo):
Now the voices have ceased,
have become one with the past.
I am old and times have changed.
That is why
I have written down the tale.
(The storyteller turns to look into the fire; then the light goes out.)
FINIS
‘Melangell: chwedl y storiwraig’
© copyright text and translation Mary Burdett-Jones 2023