They cry "Who's this?"

We had the pleasure of seeing the Baltimore Consort in person last night.  I want to write more about the concert tomorrow.  Here's their closing number, where soprano Danielle Svonavec, dressed somewhat puckishly,  runs a little riot amongst her fellow musicians.

Her antics were similar at our concert at the Alix Goolden Centre. 

(I watched from the balcony after the close, as my art teacher, seated in the front, quietly gathered up the music that had scattered at her feet after Robin Goodfellow tossed it, and stacked it on the edge of the stage.)



From Oberon in Fairyland, the King of ghosts and goblins there, mad Robin I at his command, am sent to view the night-sports here: What revel rout is here about in any corner where I go; I'll oversee and merry be, and make good sport with ho, ho, ho!

As swift as lightning I can fly amidst the aery welkin soon, and in a minute's space descry what things are done below the moon.  There's neither hag nor ghost shall wag in any corner where I go, But Robin I, their feats will spy, and make good sport with, ho! ho! ho!

Sometimes you find me like a man, sometimes a hawk, sometimes a hound, when to a horse I turn me can to trip and trot about you round.  But if you stride my back to ride as swift as ayre away I go, O'er hedges and lands, o'er pools and ponds, I run out laughing, ho! ho! ho!

When lads and lasses merry be, with possets and with banquets fine, unknown to all the company, I eat their cakes and drink their wine. And to make sport I fart and snort and all the candles out I blow, the maids I kiss, they cry, "Who's this?"  I answer, laughing, "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

Since haybred Merlin's time have I continued night sports to and fro, that for my pranks men call me by the name of Robin Goodfellow.  Fiends, ghosts, and sprites, that haunt the nights, the hags and goblins do me know, and beldams old my tales have told, sing "Vale, vale!" ho! ho! ho!
- Ben Jonson (circa 1623)