Les Menus-Plaisirs du Roy
Direction musicale : Jean-Luc Impe
FR
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The Gentle Shepherd, opéra écossais

Le Berger Gentilhomme, a Scottish ballad opera by Allan Ramsay (1725)

Published in Edinburgh in 1725 by the poet Allan Ramsay, The Gentle Shepherd is usually regarded as the first Scottish ballad opera to blend spoken and sung text. The Scottish musical world is wonderfully rendered here: ballads, dance tunes and nostalgic laments, every shade of the Scottish musical soul resounds, to our great delight, in this "Gentle Shepherd".

Presenting every facet of such a work today, without losing our way or losing the audience amid its many twists and turns, witches, ghosts, fortune-tellers and the like, can prove tricky.

Faced with these difficulties, the use of puppetry and of storytelling seemed to us best suited to our wish to bring back to the present (and with a touch of humour) the themes evoked in the Age of Enlightenment: superstition, forced marriage, the education of girls, and social opposition.

Two versions of the project

The Gentle Shepherd, staged version

The Gentle Shepherd, narrated concert version

The concert is available with commentary in French and in Dutch.

The argument

The Gentle Shepherd, Allan Ramsay, 1725. The titles in parentheses refer to the sung airs.

The play unfolds in a village of shepherds and in fields set a few miles from Edinburgh.

Act I, 8 o'clock in the morning

I, sc. 1, South of a shelter, at the edge of a steep rock, where pure waters spring from crystal-clear sources…

Two young shepherds chat amiably and share their respective ideas of love. Patie, for his part, is full of the joy of living and sings to anyone who will listen of the charms of his beloved, young and pretty Peggy (The wawking of the fauld). Roger, meanwhile, complains that the girls scorn him and stubbornly refuse to look on him kindly, despite his considerable wealth. He also believes that the woman he loves, the shepherdess Jenny, is not unmoved by the charms… of a mere farmhand. He may play Jenny her favourite tune on his new flute, but she pretends to hear nothing. Patie tells him bluntly that if a woman scorns his love, he should look elsewhere without a second thought! "Pretend you're giving her up and she'll soon change her tune," he says, or again… "Go out with another and she'll be beside herself" (Fy gar rub her o'er wi strae). Roger, well pleased with this sound advice, goes off cheerfully to breakfast with his friend.

I, sc. 2, A flowery dale between two green slopes, where the girls wash and spread their linen. A stream runs steeply down the mountain… its bed is made of gleaming, smooth, round stones. Look at these two pretty girls, barefoot, neat and radiant. First please your eyes, then delight your ear…

Meanwhile, two shepherdesses wash their linen, chatting merrily. Cheerful Peggy asks her companion Jenny why she scorns Roger. She warns her that by playing too proud she risks ending up alone (Polwart on the green). Jenny replies that she finds Roger fickle. She adds at once that marriage is a trap and that one must always be wary of men, detailing at length the countless misfortunes a woman may suffer at home should she be foolish enough to marry (O dear mother, what shall I do?). Peggy, for her part, tirelessly sings again and again of the happiness of living with a man as good as Patie (How can I be sad on my wedding day). Jenny, worn down, ends up admitting that Peggy's view may not be so bad after all… (Nansy's to the green-wood gane)… but that, above all, the washing must be finished.

Act II, 11 o'clock

II, sc. 1, A trim cottage, grass before the door, hens on the dunghill, ducks paddling in the water. On one side a barn, on the other a byre for the cattle. A stack of peat rounds out the picture nicely. The house is occupied by Glaud.

Glaud, a tenant farmer, sits before his cottage. He greets Symon, another farmer, and learns from him of the imminent return of their master, Sir William. After singing of their lord's bravery, of the triumph of good right (Cauld kail in Aberdeen) and painting the portrait of the perfect master (Mucking of Geordie's byar), Symon invites Glaud and his wife Madge to the feast he intends to hold that very evening at his home.

II, sc. 2, An open field, a cottage at its end and an old woman spinning wool in the sun. A little further on, beneath a small tree once tormented by the winds, stands a man with a wild look, his arms crossed.

In this scene we discover Bauldy, a simple-minded young farmhand talking to himself… thus revealing that he loves Peggy and that he should never have agreed to become engaged to Neps (a far less pretty shepherdess than Peggy). Despite the fear she inspires in him, he hopes to persuade old Mause to put her witch's talents at his service in order to win Peggy's love.

II, sc. 3, A farmyard with a small fountain where the water flows. A wrinkled old woman sits spinning wool and singing (Carle and the king come).

After reporting to Mause that the people round about take her for a dangerous witch, Bauldy asks the old woman to help him. He suggests she cast a spell that will turn the love Peggy feels for Patie in his own favour and, at the same time, change Neps's inclinations, thereby freeing him from his commitments. He proposes that Mause come to Symon's feast to work out a scheme likely to fulfil his amorous aspirations.

II, sc. 4, On the plain, behind a tree.

Patie and Peggy exchange tender vows… and a few kisses besides. After recalling the sweetest moments of their earlier meeting, they sing in unison of their longing to live their love to the full and to marry as soon as possible (The yellow-hair'd Laddie). Patie whispers in his beloved's ear that he has composed a pretty song in her honour, and that it is worth a hundred kisses. Peggy is not to be fooled and asks her shepherd to sing her his new composition first (To its own tune and By the delicious).

Act III, 4 o'clock in the afternoon

III, sc. 1, Look beyond the lime scattered over his clothes and see a man whose beard seems whitened by time; a measuring tool in hand, poor garments, you would surely take him for some beggar. But hush! Note the pleasure on his face as he walks his former domain.

Sir William, disguised as a beggar, wanders incognito over his lands and rejoices at the thought of finding his boy again, known in the village by the name of Patie. A widower, some years earlier he entrusted his young son to Symon, under the seal of secrecy, so that the boy might receive a sound education far from the vicissitudes of the court (Happy clown). Lost in his thoughts, Sir William soon reaches Symon's house, before which a feast is being held.

III, sc. 2, This is Symon's house! Pray come in and take a look; nothing superfluous or costly to offend you. Here everything is clean, with a good peat fire reflected on the floor. Horn-handled spoons and wooden bowls sit on the shelves behind the door. While the young busy themselves dancing on the grass, the old think it far better to chat, smoke and rest over a good pint to "brighten" their eyes.

Before Symon's cottage, the young folk have gathered to dance while the elders talk among themselves and observe with delight how handsome young Patie has grown. All are convinced that his love for Peggy will soon end in marriage. Symon, who knows the secret of Patie's noble birth, doubts that it can come to pass… Sir William, in the guise of a fortune-teller, offers to read Patie's future, foretelling for him a life full of wealth and honour. As no one believes him, despite all his efforts at persuasion, he asks Symon to accompany him outside for a short walk.

III, sc. 3, Behind a bush, well hidden…

In their turn, Jenny and Roger slip away from the feast to confess their love. The young shepherdess tells her companion of her misgivings about marriage, but Roger finally wins her over and they sing their mutual feelings in unison. They end the scene making plans for marriage (Leith Wynd). Jenny urges Roger to ask her parents for her hand (O'er Bogie) before they meet again later… when the day cools, at the spot on the hill where the willows cast their shade over the pond.

III, sc. 4, This scene shows the Knight and Symon, near a place where everything looks grim and ruined.

During the walk sketched out in Act II, Sir William reveals his true identity to Symon, who cannot hide his joy at finding his master again at last. The lord endlessly congratulates his old servant on the fine education given to his son and asks, with some apprehension, whether any young woman particularly occupies the boy's thoughts. Having learned of his son's interest in Glaud's niece, young Peggy, Sir William declares loudly that his noble offspring must save himself for a higher match, and asks the faithful tenant to bring him his son at once (Wat ye wha I met Yestreen).

Act IV, 9 o'clock in the evening

IV, sc. 1, The scene is, as described before, at Glaud's.

The whole village learns of Sir William's return and of Patie's true identity. It now seems that Peggy can no longer aspire to the love of the Lord's son. Bauldy tries to take advantage of the situation by getting a little too close to Peggy. There follows a terrible quarrel between Madge, Mause and Bauldy, who all three hold differing views on the treachery hatched by the young man. Insults and a rain of blows punctuate the end of the scene. The two women put Bauldy to flight and devise against him a most delightful plot: they will give him the fright of his life by disguising themselves as a ghost.

IV, sc. 2, When the birds begin to fall asleep on the branches and the green grass grows wet with the falling dew, while good Sir William has retired to rest, the noble shepherd, tenderly inspired, walks among the broom with ever-loyal Roger, to meet Peggy, to comfort her and to bid her farewell.

Roger tries to console his friend Patie, whom everyone is determined to part from his beloved. There follows a gentle conversation in which sincere love vies with filial piety (Kirk wad let me be). Peggy, who has just joined the two young men, declares that even if Patie must go away for a time, she will never forget him and will marry no one else (Wae's my heart). Patie reassures her, agreeing with her, while Peggy, seized with sudden faith in the future, vows to study and to become a woman of whom Patie can be proud (Tweed side, Bush aboon Traquair).

Act V, at dawn, the following day

V, sc. 1, See how poor Bauldy opens his eyes wide, like one possessed, and noisily wakes Symon from a well-earned rest. Bare-legged, with a nightcap and an unbuttoned coat, see the old servant approach the fool.

Bauldy, still terrified, tells Symon how many wicked tricks old Mause has in her bag: he has seen, with his own eyes, a diabolical witch and fought with a ghost. Sir William voices some doubts on the matter and thinks the scatterbrained youth has been the victim of a joke. The scene ends at sunrise, and Sir William sings a little verse about work and health (Bonny grey-eyd).

Glaud teases Jenny and Peggy, telling them that Patie will soon forget them now that he is a Lord's son. Soon he will be a real "dandy", at which the two girls, sure of Patie's constancy, protest vigorously. Madge interrupts their discussion, telling them that they are all awaited by Sir William, who intends to rule on the complaint brought by Bauldy against old Mause, accused of witchcraft.

Sir William brings Bauldy to confess and repent for having tried to seduce Peggy and abandon Neps. Peggy's arrival astonishes Sir William, who thinks he recognises in her the faithful likeness of his sister, who died in the flower of her youth. He asks Glaud whether this young person is indeed his daughter. Glaud hesitates for a while and finally confesses that, several years ago, he found a prettily swaddled baby behind his door. Though the girl is fair and good, and doubtless of noble birth, he knows nothing of her origins. Mause then steps in to clarify matters: she was once the personal nurse of Sir William's unfortunate sister and saved the infant from the criminal designs of a vile relative. This infamous uncle and his wife had once plotted to smother the child, but Mause, heeding only her courage, fled with the little girl and entrusted her to Glaud. Nothing now stands in the way of the marriage of the two young lovebirds, both of noble blood. Sir William blesses the couple and declares that the traitor will be punished. All's well that ends well, and Peggy, at Sir William's request, ends the play with a song… (Corn Riggs).