Nottingham Journal (1941b)
Main Variant |
Transcription
|
Journal,
14.1.41
"PLOUGH MONDAY"
PLAY IN NOTTS.
"Journal" Reader's Memories
THE notes which appeared
in the "Journal " on
Friday last concerning the
' traditional plays which used
to be performed by farm
labourers , in many Notts.
villages on Plough Monday -
which occurred yesterday -
has prompted one of our
oldest readers. to give his
version of what used to take
place ashe remembers it
from many years ago.
"I was sitting alone at 3 a.m.,
fire watching, when I read your
article on 'PlOugh Monday,' he
says: "It brought back fond and
vivid memories of the days when
I took part in a Plough Monday
play. No doubt some of the other
players are alive and also remember
those days at Halloughton
(near Southwell) and Maplebeck
- the days when that great man,
Gladstone, was Prime Minister;
and the days of the great '93 coal
strike."
Our correspondent then sets
out the action and words of the
play. Here it is:
Six of us arrive at a farm on a
pitch-dark night. There is silence
until the first man knocks on the
door and a dog barks.
The farmer shouts: "Come in."
As the door is opened the first
man recites:-
I open the door and venture in,
Whether my nature fails to win,
Whether I rise or whether I fall,
We'll do our best to please you all.
The next man then steps in and
says:-
In comes I, who's never been yet,
My big head and little wit,
My head's so large, my wit so small,
I'll do my best to please you all.
Enter Beelzebub (carrying
straw and implements):-
In comes I, old Beelzebub.
On my back I carry my club,
In my hand my Witleather frying
pan,
Don't you think I am a jolly old
man?
The company all say, "Yes, I
do."
Beelzebub: Who can stand
before me?
A voice:, Me,
[-- column break --]
Beelzebub: I am Beelzebub,
My head is made of iron; my
body made of steel; and no man
can make me feel.
A voice :
Draw out thy sword and
persevere,
I'll lay thee on the floor down
there
He stabs Beelzebub, and there
is great laughter amongst the
farmer's family.
Someone outside shouts: £5 for:
a doctor.
Says Another: £10 to stop
away
A voice: Oh dear doctor, do
come in.
There is a knock on the door
and a person enters, saying:
In comes I, a noble doctor.
You a noble doctor? Someone
asks.
The doctor: Yes; me a noble
doctor.
What can you cure?
Anything, I can cure. I cured
old Mother Cork, who fell down
over her shin bone and made her
stocking bleed. I can cure Ipsee
Pipsee, Palsee Grip, pain within
and pain without. What is the
matter with this man?
He feels Beelzebub's pulse and
continues: This man, he's been
trying to live on dried tato tops,
boiled without water for a fort-
night. He tried to swallow a
donkey and cart and couldn't
digest the wheels. (Great laugh-
ter.) I'll give him a pinch of my
tiff taft. He goes on:
This man is not dead, he is in
a trance,
And if he can't dance we
can sing,
So rise him up and let's begin.
The song:
Good master and good mistress,
As you sit round your fire,
Remember us poor plough boys
That plough through mud and mire.
The miry clay, it is so deep, '
We travel far and wide.
We thank you for a Xmas box
And one of your pork pies.
The gifts - coppers, etc. - are
shared. The company shake
hands and bid each other good
night, and go their separate ways
while the foxes bark and the owls
squeal. |
|
