Dramatis Personae
The Chorus - a mass of voices within Lords Thomas' head
Thomas Heartsleeves - their hopeless romantic side
Thomas Bloodstain - their responsible side
The Lady Autumn - their inner woman
Thomas Staid - their duty-bound side
Thomasina Palmer - their inner anchoress
Shilo - their imaginary friend
I dare not speak of love, and yet I must.
Fair Annet, you have forced my hand at last.
My mother gave me counsel, I will trust
The wisdom of the ever-fading past
My nut-brown maid, you ever vex me so
I know not how or why you do these things
Nor do I think I have a right to know
But mine, I fear, is not the heart that sings
Fair Annet, though I love you, I am weak
My strength of spirit cannot set me free.
I have no moral ground on which to stand,
I'll do what's wise, and have no right to speak
Of love and lust, whatever they may be
These practicalities have forced my hand
I dare not speak of love, and yet I must
confront this consternation that I face.
The Lord is neither merciful nor just
to force us all into this narrow place
where choices made by one are borne by all.
Where voices speak, but rarely are they heard.
Where loneliness abounds, they heard the call:
Where once was one, a second and a third.
All our opinions differ. Usually
we can negotiate or compromise,
but now each voice is saying, "not so fast,
I'm speaking first!" And we fight bitterly.
Never before were we so polarized:
Fair Annet, you have forced my hand at last.
Fair Annet, you have forced my hand at last
And asked me who I'll choose to be my bride
I know that I have been shy in the past,
But feelings like I feel for you can't hide.
My love is like an ever flowing spring
As sweet as summer's wine, and yours alone
And I would freely give you anything
A love like this the world has never known
If you alone loved me like I love you
I would have said this plainly long ago
I dared not speak of love, but now I must:
My love is in your hands, will you be true?
I stay steadfastly yours, yes even though
My mother gave me counsel, I will trust.
My mother gave me counsel, I will trust
her words. They are wise words, and I agree
that practicalities are what I must
pay most attention to. I am not free
to do just as I please; I am a lord,
I have responsibilities. The maid
they call "nut-brown" has wealth, and more
than that, connections. I have paid
such close attention as she comes and goes,
and she is proper, knows just what to do.
Fair Annet, you have forced my hand. At last
I must make clear what anybody knows,
there's but one thing that we can know is true:
the wisdom of the ever-fading past
The wisdom of the ever-fading past
must contradict itself at every turn.
A marriage of convenience will not last;
The brightest passions only briefly burn.
Mere money cannot hold you close at night
Yet not having it can be everything.
It cannot comfort you, and yet it might
just save your life one day. May fortune bring
more fortune in its wake, or just run out?
I can't foretell what any choice might do,
nor do I think I have a right to know,
but only seek my truth in hope of doubt:
Fair Annet, I go mad with thoughts of you;
My nut-brown maid, you ever vex me so.
My nut-brown maid, you ever vex me so
with your strange moods and passions. Still I yearn
for your sweet touch, I only want to know
each inch of you, is that too much? I burn
with passion that no man could ever feel,
we women, you and I, know deeper love
than those men can dream, and know a great deal
more kinds of tenderness, far far above
the man I look like. I am a lady,
and love you in ways no man could withstand.
But mine, I fear, is not the heart that sings
for gentle nods and pious dignity;
the hidden feelings and the tilted hand.
I know not how or why you do these things
I know not how or why you do these things
my lady, and I wish that you would stop
with all your to-and-fro. Your drama brings
no sympathy from me, no not one drop.
It's true, I'm taken with Fair Annet's grace
And beauty, but such beauty always fades,
and you have something lasting. Know your place,
and I will make you mine. He's wise who trades
the flaring passion for the noble goal
of loving without question or remorse.
My nut-brown maid, you ever vex me so,
but we'll set that aside, each fill our role.
I don't know what lies down some other course,
Nor do I think I have a right to know.
Nor do I think I have a right to know
the secrets in your heart, nor any taste
of love. Your wealth and property will go
to dust as well; all fortune turns to waste.
Fair Annet, ah, I wish that I could be
as fair as you, but sadly I am not.
But in my poor condition I can see
the world of dust within which we are caught.
To chase mere beauty or to chase mere wealth,
The Lord alone will linger after life.
I know not how or why you do these things,
but pray to prosper thee and bring thee health.
I wish that I could love, and spare you strife
But mine, I fear, is not the heart that sings
No: mine, I fear, is not the heart that sings
for any love, besides, of course, the One.
But I've yet to untangle from the things
that bind me to the world. I am not done
Delighting in the beauty of this place
Despairing that the Lord is so unfair
Delighting in the beauty of her face
Despairing that mine never will compare
Each dusk and dawn, I pray that I will find
the strength to shed what is for what's in store.
I'll do what's wise, and have no right to speak
of vanities. I must leave them behind.
Lord please forgive me, soothe my envy for
Fair Annet. Though I love you, I am weak.
Fair Annet, though I love you, I am weak
And cannot stand against the tide of mind
Forgive me if I tremble as I speak
Imagine, please, the words I cannot find.
You are perfection, anyone can see
The clothes you wear, the way you do your hair
Speak volumes. Think of what our love could be
If I were honest man enough to dare
But tides within me pull away from shore
And sweep me up in tangled, thrashing waves
Of love and lust, whatever they may be;
A sea of voices I wish to ignore.
There are some things not even true love saves.
My strength of spirit cannot set me free.
My strength of spirit cannot set me free,
but you could, Thomasina, hear my prayer,
or did you think it was your own? My plea
is much like yours, for you and I both share
the one divine intention: holy love.
United, you and I, into the One,
the Earth beneath us and our God above,
we three the braid that never comes undone.
I am the voice that whispers in your mind
I am the spirit moving you to prayer.
These practicalities have forced my hand
I'll say once more to cut the ties that bind
But selfishly, since I don't want to share.
I have no moral ground on which to stand.
I have no moral ground on which to stand,
Fair Annet, as I walk away from you.
I could not be the perfect gentleman.
But as a Lord, it's what I have to do.
There is no love that duty won't precede
There is no duty can be left undone
There is no burden that can be relieved
There is no peace for lords, no battle won
The fight is endless, first within my heart
And then my mind, I buckle and I bend.
Fair Annet, though I love you, I am weak
When set against the need to do my part,
and be responsible. So, in the end,
I'll do what's wise, and have no right to speak
I'll do what's wise, and have no right to speak
for any of the others. We do not
agree on what is best; some think it bleak,
but I am optimistic. I'm not caught
up in my fantasies; the nut-brown maid
is many things, but not easy to love
and yet I find that I am unafraid.
I know that I can treat her with kid gloves
and words of affirmation -- they're not hard to find.
When I just think of her, there's so much I can say.
My strength of spirit cannot set me free
from duties of a lord, but I don't mind.
I will let nothing else get in the way
of love and lust, whatever they may be
Of love and lust, whatever they may be,
I cannot speak at length, and yet my tongue
will get the point across, and you will see
I have such sights to show you. We are young,
And we will live with passion, we will burn.
And we will live like fools, we will rush in
And we will live but briefly, seasons turn,
And we will live triumphantly, we'll win
the game of life, and leave the rest behind
and no one else could ever feel the same.
I have no moral ground on which to stand,
nor is that something I would like to find.
The sin my purpose, I will never claim
these practicalities have forced my hand
These practicalities have forced my hand,
and now it is decided. Nut Brown Maid
will be my bride. I know that I can't stand
to not have Annet there. These plans are laid:
the wedding will be simple, we'll invite
Fair Annet there to see us on our way
to our new life, and she will not delight
in this, but she will see that we are gay
and closure will be had, and we'll move on.
This is all for the best, it must be so.
My mother gave me counsel; I will trust
Her words. The wealth will stay when love is gone,
and maybe love will stay; I do not know.
I dare not speak of love, and yet I must.