In fifth grade, my class studied the Middle Ages, which my fantasy-nerd self adored. I have a memory from that time of playing “Greensleeves” on the recorder. This memory is probably not accurate, though, because “Greensleeves” was much too hard for me to play. There are some tricky non-diatonic notes, and the two halves of the tune are connected by a leap of a minor seventh. On the other hand, those same features make it an ongoing object of fascination for me as an adult musician. Before we dig into the harmony, first let’s clear up some of the mythology. Sorry to be a buzzkill, but no, Henry VIII didn’t write the song, and, no, Lady Greensleeves was not a prostitute.
Here’s a plausible-sounding period rendition of the tune, with some anachronistic anime graphics.
Like any centuries-old folk song, there is no single definitive version of “Greensleeves.” Instead, there are endless variants, all of which emerge from an undocumented aural tradition. (From Ian Pittaway’s invaluable blog, I learned that there was a 17th century version called “Greene Sleues and Countenaunce in Countenaunce is Greene Sleues.” That wins.) Most variants of the tune use broadly the same melody, but with one key difference: sometimes they use the boring scale, and sometimes they use the cool scale. I explain what I mean by that below.