I knew I wasn’t the only one that thought of that.
I’m no medieval scholar, but I loved this, particularly the chat up lines.
-Yf thou were a latyn tretise ich wolde putte thee in the vernacular.
If you enjoyed this blog, you may also like Bill Bailey’s Chaucer Pubbe Gagge, which is even better when you hear it rather than read it.
I also said E-I-E-I-O when I read this title.
This reminds me of that classic Old English poem:
Beowulf ond Godsylla
Meanehwael, baccat meaddehale, monstaer lurccen;
Fulle few too many drincce, hie luccen for fyht.
Den Hreorfneorhthwr, son of Hrwaerowtheororthwl,
Aesccen aewful jeork to steop outsyd.
Thud! Bashe! Crasch! Beom! De bigge gye
Eallum his bon brak, byt his nose offe;
Wicced Godsylla waeld on his asse.
Monstaer moppe fleor wyth eallum men in haelle.
Beowulf in bacceroome fonecall bemaccen waes;
Hearen sond of ruccus saed, ‘Hwaet the helle?’
Graben sheold strang ond swich-blaed scharp
Stond feorth to fyht the grimlic foe.
‘Me,’ Godsylla saed, ‘mac the minsemete.’
Heoro cwyc geten heold with faemed half-nelson
Ond flyng him lic frisbe bac to fen.
Beowulf belly up to meaddehaele bar,
Saed, ‘Ne foe beaten mie faersom cung-fu.’
Eorderen cocca-colha yce-coeld, the reol thyng.
(From Tom Weller’s Culture Made Stupid)
My translation for those unfamiliar with medieval languages:
Meanwhile, back at the mead-hall, a monster was lurking;
he’d had a few too many drinks, and was looking for a fight.
Then Hreorfneorhthwr, son of Hrwaerowtheororthwl,
Asked the awful jerk to step outside.
Thud! Bash! Crash! Boom! The big guy
broke all of his bones, and bit his nose off;
Wicked Godzilla whaled on his ass.
The monster mopped the floor with all the men in the hall.
Beowulf, who was in the backroom, making a phonecall,
heard the sound of the ruckus and said, ‘What the hell?’
Grabbing his strong sheild and sharp switch-blade,
he stood forth to fight the fierce foe.
‘I will make mincemeat of you,’ Godzilla said,
but the Hero quickly got hold of him with his famed half-nelson
and flung him like a frisbee.
Beowulf then bellied up to mead-hall bar, and
said, ‘No foe’s ever beaten my fearsome kung-fu.’
Then he ordered a Coca-Cola, ice-cold, the real thing.
Man, who knew WMU had a reputation for anything academic?
“…and Bingo was its name-o” also works with the thread title.