CHARACTERS
Thomas is a twenty-something monk and lyricist from Scotland
James is a twenty-something monk and musician from Newcastle
SETTING
A candlelit monk’s cell in Wales on an evening in the early 1800s
(Thomas is at a desk, writing, then crumpling and throwing each page away, before starting again, there is a loud knocking at the chamber door)
Thomas
Go away. I’m working.
(more loud knocking)
Thomas
I said, go away.
(the door opens and James enters carrying two mugs of beer)
James
Come on, Thomas. Give it a rest. It’s Friday night and time to party. The monks from Weltenburg are visiting, and they’ve brought beer!
Thomas
Sorry, I have to finish these carols for the Bishop by morning.
James
Oh, come on. Take a study break and have a drink.
(Thomas sighs, accepts the proffered mug, and takes a swig)
Thomas
Wow, this stuff is strong!
James
And the German monks brought a whole barrel! Come on, the party’s already started, and I heard that the nuns are coming!
Thomas
You know I can’t. The Bishop will kill me if I don’t finish these lyrics.
James
No, he won’t. The Bishop likes you. Besides, he knows how hard you’ve been working. He’ll understand if you’re a little late.
Thomas
Oh, no, he won’t. The Bishop was very particular about these being done by tomorrow morning. He wants the congregation to learn them before Sunday.
James
Who cares whether the people practice the songs before Mass? Do you think the Almighty Father will mind listening to a little unrehearsed singing? He hears everything anyway and knows better than anyone that this congregation can’t hold a tune, with or without practice.
Thomas
No, that’s not the reason. The Bishop wants everyone to sing them while decorating the town Sunday afternoon.
James
(taking another, healthy swig)
Why? Their voices are just as bad outside the church. What’s the big deal?
Thomas
James, the Bishop’s more interested in the townspeople’s decorating performance than their choral performance.
James
You lost me.
Thomas
The Bishop wants the village square filled with the sound of joyous singing as its residents festoon it with holly boughs for the Christmas holiday.
James
(yawning and looking in his now empty mug)
Yeah, so have them sing one of the classics.
Thomas
Don’t you remember last year? The Bishop had everybody singing Sanctus over and over and over.
James
Oh, I remember that. It sounded like we were singing a funeral dirge off-key.
Thomas
Right. By three o’clock, people were crying in the streets, only half of the decorations were in place, and old man Watson had jumped into the town well.
James
You know, it took us two hours to hoist old man Watson out, and we never did finish decorating the town square. That was awful.
Thomas
Well, this year, the Bishop wants everyone singing cheerful and catchy carols to put them in the festive spirit and to get those decorations up before sunset.
James
Well, at least the hard part’s done. I gave you the music yesterday. All you have to do is jot down some words.
Thomas
Oh, right. You did the hard part. You gave me two ancient French and Welsh melodies. They are peppy tunes, but you stole them!
James
Nonsense. I creatively and appropriately transcribed melodic themes from our rich cultural heritage. Besides, no one will recognize those old chestnuts with my masterful arrangements and your stunning lyrics. People will just experience a vague sense of comfortable familiarity, and the Bishop will be thrilled at how quickly they learn the melodies. Let’s see what you have.
(James grabs a sheet of paper off of the desk)
Thomas
Those are the lyrics for the French one. I call it Angels We Have Heard on High.
James
(clears throat and sings)
Angels we have heard on high
Sweetly swinging o’er the plains
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains
That’s a lovely verse, Thomas, but where’s the chorus?
Thomas
There isn’t one. The Bishop specifically instructed me to weave in the phrase “Gloria in Excelsis Deo,” but I can’t figure out how. It just doesn’t fit the meter.
James
Well, “In Excelsis Deo” fits nicely at the end of the chorus. You just need to figure out how to shoehorn in “Gloria.”
Thomas
(finishing his beer and laughing)
Sure, why don’t we just stretch the word Gloria across four measures?
James
Why not?
Thomas
Nobody’s going to sing a three-syllable word across twenty-seven notes!
James
Sure, they will. Besides, fewer words make it easier to learn the lyrics. Listen:
(singing)
Glo o o o o o o o
o o o o o o o o
o o o o o o o o
oria
in Excelsis Deo
(James pauses, expectantly while James shudders)
Thomas
And that is why you’re not a lyricist.
James
Oh, like you have anything better after working on this for two days. Show me what you wrote for the Welsh one.
Thomas
(handing James another sheet of paper)
OK, I call this one Deck the Halls, but you aren’t going to like it.
James
Are you kidding? The Bishop’s going to love that title, Thomas. Just one thing. You’ve only written half the words. All you have are some rhyming couplets:
(spoken, not sung)
Deck the halls with boughs of holly … ‘Tis the season to be jolly
Don we now our gay apparel … Troll the ancient Yuletide carol
See the blazing yule before us … Strike the harp and join the chorus
These are nice, but where are the rest of the lyrics? Nuns, Thomas. There are nuns downstairs, and we’re sitting in your room!
Thomas
I’m sorry, James. There aren’t any more lyrics. As I said, I’m stuck. Now, do you understand why I can’t go drinking with you tonight?
James
Well, that is unacceptable. We need to get you unstuck. It’s Friday night, there’s a party raging with all our friends, and we’re missing it!
Thomas
Not helping, James. Not helping at all.
James
OK, here’s an idea. Let’s sing what you have and fill in the gaps with fa-la-las.
Thomas
Fa-la-las?
James
Trust me; I’m a musician. It’s called scat singing, and it’ll help us get the rhythm and flow of the piece. Just stop whining and sing it with me.
James and Thomas
(singing together)
Deck the halls with boughs of holly
Fa la la la la, la la la la
‘Tis the season to be jolly
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Don we now our gay apparel
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Troll the ancient Yuletide carol
Fa la la la la, la la la la
(the two silently stare at each other)
James
Anything?
Thomas
(shaking his head)
Nothing. Worse than nothing. Now I can’t get those lousy fa-la-las out of my head.
James
Well, then there is nothing left to do but take a break and clear your mind. We’ll go to that party, have one beer, dance with a couple of nuns, and come straight back to finish these up.
Thomas
I don’t know. It’s awfully late.
James
Then we’ll get up early in the morning and finish it when we’re fresh. Just write Gloria and Fa la la la la as placeholders and leave the music on your desk. We’ll clean the lyrics up before anyone ever sees them. Trust me. Everything will work out.
Thomas
OK, but we really need to complete these before the Bishop gets here. He’s stopping by at sunrise, right after he finishes Matins.
James
Don’t worry, Thomas. We’ll be back in plenty of time.
Thomas
OK, maybe the break will help. We’ll just stop by the party to see what’s going on and grab one quick beer. Then, right back to work.
James
(grabbing their coats and ushering Thomas out the door)
One beer. That’s it. Or, two at the most. And then we’ll come right back to your cell, and I’ll help you finish these before the Bishop arrives in the morning. It’s not as though these carols are going to be stuck with your temporary lyrics forever. So, grab your coat, Thomas, and let’s go celebrate!