Cornish is a disappointing language in respect of swearwords, for it is
by no means rich in those “ornaments to conversation.” Except for a few
very distressing expressions, now better forgotten, which are put into
the mouths of the evil characters in the Dramas, the swears are mostly
quite harmless, and even pious. It is not at all difficult or morally
dangerous to learn to swear in Cornish.
Surprise is generally expressed by _Re Varîa_! By Mary! By Our Lady!
shortened at times to _Arîa_! and _Rîa_! This is used as an Englishman
might say “By Jove!” or “By George!” or a Frenchman “_Dame_!”
If there is an element of annoyance mingled with the surprise, _An Jowl_!
The Devil, may be mentioned with effect, perhaps by those to whom _Re
Varîa_! savours too much of Popery; but _Re Varîa_! is in better taste.
_An Jowl_ may be used, as in English, after words signifying _where_,
_what_, _why_, _when_, to strengthen a question.
An assertion is strengthened by the use of the name of a saint,
preferably the patron of one’s own parish (though any Cornishman may
swear by St. Michael {154}), with or without the particle _re_, which
puts the initial in the second state, prefixed. The title “saint” is
usually omitted. Thus:—
_Re Yêst_! By St. Just! _Re Gŏlom_! By St. Columb! _Re Îa_! By St. Ia
[Ives]. _Re Vihal_! or _Mîhal_! By St. Michael.
A little stronger, for those whose principles will allow them to mention
it, is _Re’n Offeren_! By the Mass! and some bold, bad persons have been
known under great pressure to say _Re Dhew_! In the Dramas, _Re thu am
ros_ (_Re Dhew a’m ros_), By God who made me! (or who gave me) is a more
elaborate form of this swear. One also finds _Abarth Dew_, On God’s
part=In God’s name, and in the mouths of pagans, _Abarth Malan_ (a Celtic
goddess) and even _Abarth Satnas_.
Ill-temper is generally expressed by variations on _mollath_, pl.
_mollathow_, curse. A moderate amount of anger may be indicated by
_Mollath_! or _Mollathow_! alone, or _Mollathow dheugh_! Curses to you!
or _Mollath warnough_! A curse upon you! A little more is expressed by
specifying the number, generally large, of these curses, _Mil mollath
warnough_! or even _Cans mil mollath warnough_!
Some, moved by very great indignation, have been known to say _Mollath
Dew warnas_! God’s curse upon thee! and Carew in his Survey of Cornwall
of 1602 gives a by no means nice phrase (which he spells all anyhow and
translates wrong), _Mollath Dew en dha ’las_! The curse of God in thy
belly! Another serio-comic but rather cryptic expletive, peculiar to
Camborne, or at any rate to the Drama of _St. Meriasek_, is _Mollath Dew
en gegin_! God’s curse in the kitchen! It does not seem to mean anything
in particular, except perhaps that one’s food may not agree with one,
though it makes quite as much sense as the “universal adjective” of
English swearing, and is a good deal less offensive. _Venjens_, a
borrowed English word, may be substituted for _Mollath_. {156} One finds
_Mil venjens warnas_! and even _Venjens en dha ’las_! But all these last
expressions represent unusually violent states of mind, and cannot be
recommended for general use; for if one were to use up such expletives as
these on matters of little moment, there would be nothing left for state
occasions.
The expressions _Malbe_, _Malbew_, _Malbew dam_, _Malbe dam_, found in
_The Creation_ and in _St. Meriasek_, are considered by Prof. Loth to be
maledictions referring to the French expression _Mal beau or Beau mal_, a
euphonism for epilepsy, so that _Malbe dam_ has no connection with the
similar sound of part of it in English, but only means “Epilepsy to me!”
The seventeenth and eighteenth century speakers of Cornish sometimes
wished to express contempt or dislike by abusive terms. These often take
the form of epithets added to the word _pedn_, head. Thus, _Pedn brâs_,
literally “great head,” is equivalent to the impolite English “fat-head”;
_Pedn Jowl_, devil’s head; _Pedn mousak_, stinking head; these three are
given as common terms of abuse by Carew. When the late Mrs. Dolly
Pentreath was at all put out, she is reported to have used the term
_Cronak an hagar deu_ (The ugly black toad), and there are several
equally uncomplimentary epithets scattered up and down among the Dramas.
But these words do not accord with the polite manners of those who belong
to the most gentlemanlike race, except the Scottish Highlanders, in all
Christendom, and those Cornishmen who require that their conversation
should be a little more forcible than “yea” and “nay” (for which, by the
way, there is no real Cornish) are recommended not to go beyond _Re
Varîa_, _Re’n Offeren_, and an invocation of St. Michael of the Mount, or
of the patron saints of their own parishes. What would happen if one
were to swear by the patron of some other parish does not appear, but
probably, if a St. Ives man were to strengthen his assertion by an appeal
to St. Meriasek of Camborne, instead of his own St. Ia, he might be
suspected of a wilful economy of truth. The more forcible expressions
may be left to the “Anglo-Saxon,” for Cornishmen and Celts generally,
even of the lowest position, are not, and never have been, foul-mouthed.
The usual interjections, Oh! Ah! Alas! are borrowed from English. Woe!
is expressed by _Trew_! Woe is me! is _Govî_! Woe to him! _Goev_!
compounds of _gew_, woe, with pronouns.
Lo, Behold (the _voila_, _voici_ of French) is expressed by _otta_ (older
forms _awatta_, _awatte_, _wette_, _otte_=perhaps _a wel dî_? dost thou
see?). This combines with pronouns, e.g. _ottavî_, “me voici,” _ottadî_,
_ottavê_ or _ottensa_, _ottany_, _ottawhy_, _ottanjy_. These compounds
are often followed by a participle, e.g. _ottavî pares_, behold me
prepared. The distinction of _voila_ and _voici_ is expressed by
_ottama_ and _ottana_.