Whanne, as a manne, we Godde and Jesus Instedde of mountynge on a wynged horse, treate,

[wronge You onn a rouncy dryve yon dolefull course. In mie pore mynde, we doe the Gothedde Botte lette ne wordes, whyche droories mote

Canynge and I from common course dyssente; ne heare,

Wee ryde the stede, botte yev to hym the reene; placed ya the same. Adieu untylle anere,

Ne wylle betweene crased molterynge bookes beBee THOMAS ROWLEIE pente,

(sheene; Botte soare on hyghe, and yn the sonne-bemes

And where wee kenn somme ishad floures beLETTER



We take ytte, and from oulde rouste doe ytte Straunge dome ytte ys, that, yo these daies of Botte sometymes soare 'bove trouthe of hystorie.

Wee wylle ne cheynedd to one pasture bee, Nete butte a bare recytalle can hav place ; [oures, Nowe shapelie poesie hast loste ytts powers, Saie, Canynge, whatt was vearse yn daies of And pynant hystorie ys onlie grace;

yore? Heie pvcke up wolsome weedes, ynstedde of Fyne thoughtes, and couplettes fetyvelie bewryen flowers,

Notte syke as doe annoie thys age so sore, And famylies, ynstedde of wytte, theie trace; A keppened poyntelle restynge at eche lyne. Nowe poesie canne meete wythe ne regrate, Vearse inaie be goode, boite poesie wantes more, Whylste prose, and herehaughtrie, ryse yn estate. An onlist lecturn, and a songe adygne;

Accordynge to the rule I have thys wroughte, Lette kynses, and rulers, whan heie gayne a

Gyff ytt please Canynge, I care notte a groate. throne,

[sieres bore, Shew whatt theyre grandsieres, and great grand- The thynge ytte moste bee yttes owne defense; Emarschalled armes, yatte, ne before theyre Som metre maie notte please a womannes ear.

Canynge lookes notte for poesie, botte sense; Now raung'd wythe whatt yeir fadres han before; And dygne, and wordie thoughtes, ys all hys care, Lette trades, and toune folck, lett syke thynges Carynge, adieu! I do you greete from hence; Ne fyghte for sable yn a fielde of aure; (alone, Full soone I hope to taste of your good cheere; Seldomm, or never, are armes vyrtues mede, Goode byshoppe Carpynter dyd byd mee saie, Shee nillynge to take myckle aie dothe hede 4. Hee wysche you healthe and selinesse for aie.

T. ROWLEIE. A man ascaunse uponn a piece maye looke, And shake hys heddes to styrre hys rede aboute; Quod he, gyf I askaunted oere thys booke,

ENTRODUCTIONNE. Schulde fynde tbereyn that trouthe ys left wyth-Somme cherisaunei tys to gentle mynde, Eke, gyf ynto a vew percase I tooke [oute; Whan beie have chevyced theyre londe from The longe beade-rolle of al the wrytynge route,


[hynde, Asserius, Ingolphus, Torgotte, Bedde,

Whan theie ar dedd, theie leave yer name beThorow hem al nete lyche ytte I coulde rede..

And theyre goode deedes doe on the Earthe rePardon, yee graiebarbes, gyff I saie, onwise


Downe yu Yee are to stycke so close and bysmarelie

the grave wee ynhyme everych steyne, To hystorie; you doe ytte tooe moche pryze,

Whyiest al her gentleness ys made to sheene, Whyche amenused thoughtes of poesie; (alyse, Lyche fetyve baubels geasonine to be seene. Somme drybblette share you shoulde to. yatte Ælla, the wardenne of thys castell stede, Nutt makynge everyche thynge bee hystorie;

Whylest Saxons dyd the Englysche sceptre swaie,

Who made whole troopes of Dacyan men to blede, 3 Droorie. Strange perversion of words! droorie Then seeld hys eyne, and seeled hys eyne for aie, in its ancient signification stood for modesty *.

Wee rowze hym uppe before the judgment daie, This is an errour of Chatterton.

To saie what he, as clergyond, caune kende,
Schyr Jhone Webetown thar was siayne;

And howe hee sojourned in the vaic of men.
And quhen he dede wis, as ye her,
Thai fand intill hys coffer

A lettyr that bym send a lady

Personnes representedd.
That he luslyt per drouery.
That said quhen he bad vemyt a yer

bie Thomas Rozcleie, Preeste, the Auc.

thoure, In wer, as a good batchiller.

Celmonile, Johan I scamm, Preeste. The awenturs castell off Dowglas

Hwra, That to kep sa peralous was,

Surr Thybbotte Girges, Knyghte.

Birtha, Mastre Elvarde Canynge. Than mycht he weill ask a lady

Odherr partes bie Kuyghtes Hlynstrelles. Hyr amours and hyr drouery. The Bruce. B. 8. 49S.

CELMONDE, all Brystowe. Mr. Pinkerton adds per drouery is not in a way of

Before yonne roddie Sonne has droove hy3 marriage. the term is old French.



Throwe half bis joornie, dyghte yn gites of 4 Probably nede. 5 Sidropbel in Hudibras.

Who having three times shook his head, 6 This word is loosely made from the Saxon
To stir his wit up, thus he said.

verb ulysan, to loosen, to set fice,




Mee, happeless me, hee wylle a wretche be- Awhylst thiemerryemen dyddelaughe and jeaste, houlde,

[chaunces chayne. Onn mee thou semest all eyne, to me all eares. Mieselfe, and al that's myne, bounde ynne mys- Thou wardest mee as gyff ynn hondred feeres, Ah! Birtha, whie did Nature frame thee fayre?

Alest a daygnous looke to thee be sente, Whie art thou all thatt poyntelle canne be

And offrendes made mee, moe thann yie comwreenel?

pheeres, Whie art thou nott as coarse as odhers are?.

Offe scarpes of scarlette, and fyne paramente, Butte thenn thie soughle woulde throwe thy vysage I saie ytt, i moste streve thatt you ameded bee.

All thie yntente to please was lyssed to mee, sheene, Yatt shemres on thie comelie semlykeene, Lyche nottebrowne cloudes, wbann bie the Mie lyttle kyndnesses whych I dydd doe, Sonne made redde,

Thie gentleness doth corven them soe grete, Orr scarlette, wyth waylde lynnen clothe Lyche bawsyn olyphauntes mie gnattes doe ywreene,

(spreedde. shewe; Syke would thie spryte upponn thie vysage Thou doest mie thoughtes of paying love amate. Thys daie brave Ælla dothe thyne honde and Botte hann mie actyonns straughte the rolle of harte [moste parte. fate,

[down to thee, Clayme as hys owne to be, whyche nee fromm hys Pyghte thee from Hell, or brought Heaven And cann I lyve to see herr wythe anere!

Layde the whol worlde a falldstole atte thie fecte, Ytte cannotte, muste notte, naie, ytt shalle not On smyle would be suffycyll mede for mee. bee.


I amm loves borro'r, and canne never paie, Thys nyghte I'll putte stronge poysonn ynn the Botte be hys borrower stylle, and thyne, mie And hymm, herr, and myselfe, attenes wyll slea. swete, for aie. Assyst mee Helle! lette devylles rounde mee tende,


Love,doe notte rate your achevments soesmalle; To slea mieselfe, mie love, and eke mie doughtie

As I to you, syke love untoe mee beare;

For nothynge paste will Birtha ever call,

Ne on a foode from Heaven thynke to cheere. Notte, whanne the hallie prieste dyd make me

As farr as thys frayle brutylle fesch wylle

Syke, and ne fardher I expecte of you; (spere, kuyghte, Blessynge the weaponne, tellynge future dede,

Be notte toe slack yn love, ne overdeare; (true. Howe bie mie honde the prevyd Dane shoulde

A smalle fyre, yan a loud flame, proves more blede,


ALLA. Howe I schulde often bee, and often wynne ynne Thie gentle wordis toe thie volunde kenne

To bee moe clergionde thann ys ynn meyncte of Notte, whann I fyrste behelde thie beauteous hue,

(softer soule; Whyche strooke mie mynde, and rouzed my

ÆLLA, BIRTHA, CELMONDE, MYNSTRELLES, Nott, whann from the barbed horse yn fyghte dyd viewe

Alle blessynges showre on gentle Ælla's hedde; The flying Dacians oere the wyde playne roule, Oft maie the Moone, yn sylverr sheenynge Whan all the troopes of Denmarque made grete lyghte, dole,

Inne varied chaunges varyed blessynges shedde, Dydd I fele joie wyth syke reddoure as nowe, Besprengeynge far abrode mischaunces nyghte; Whann hailie preest, the lechemanne of the And thou, fayre Birtha! thou, fayre dame, so soule,


[peace, Dydd knytte us both ynn a caytysnede vowe: Long mayest thou wyth Ælla fynde muche Now hallie Ælla's selynesse ys grate;

Wythe sely nesse as wyth a roabe, be dyghte, Shap haveth nowe ymade hys woes for to emmate.

Wyth everych chaungynge mone new joies enBIRTHA.

I, as a token of mie love to speake, (crease! Mie lorde, and husbande, syke a joie is myne;

Have brought you jubbes of ale, at nyghte youre Botte mayden modestie moste ne soe saie,

brayne to breake. Albeytte thou mayest rede ytt ynne myne cyne, Or yon myne harte, where thou shalte be for

Whan sopperes paste we'lle drenche youre ale aie;

Tyde lyfe, tyde death. Inne sothe, I have botte meeded oute thie faje;

(soe stronge,

CELMONDE. For twelve tymes twelve the mone hath biu yblente,

Ye mynstrelles, chaunt your souge! As manie tyines hathe vyed the godde of daie,

Mynstrelles Songe bie a Manne and Homanne, And on the grasse her lemes of sylrerr sente,

Sythethou dydst cheese mer forthie swoteto bee, Enactynge ynn the same moste faifullie to mee.

Tourne thee to thie shepsterr swayne; Ofte have I seene thee atte the none-daie feaste,

Bryghte Sonne has ne droncke the dewe

From the floures of yellowe hue; Whanne deysde bie thieselfe, for wante of

Tourne thee, Alyce, backe agayne. pleeres,

WOMANNE. 1 Is she not more than painting can express? No, bestoikerre, I wylle go,

Fair Penitent, Softlie tryppynge o'ere the mees,






Lyche the sylver-footed doe,

Stekeynge shelterr yn grene trees.

I agree, and thus I plyghte

Honde, and harte, and all that's myne;
See the moss-growne daisey'd banke,

Goode syr Rogerr, do us ryghte,
Pereynge ynne the streme belowe;

Make us one, at Cothbertes shryne.
Here we'lle sytte, yn dewie danke;
Tourne thee, Alyce, do notte goe.

Wee wylle ynn a bordelle lyve,

Hailie, thoughe of no estate;
I've hearde erste mie grandame saie,

Everyche clocke moe love shall gyve;

Wee ynn goodnesse wylle bee greate.
Yonge damoy selles schulde ne bee,
Inne the swotie moonthe of Maie,

Wythe yonge menne bie the grene wode tree.

I lyche thys songe, I lyche ytt myckle well; MANNE.

And there ys monie for yer syngeyne nowe; Sytte thee, Alyce, sytte, and harke,

Butte have you noone thatt marriage-blessynges

telle? Howe the ouzle chauntes hys noate,

The cbelandree, greie morn larke,
Chauntynge from theyre lyttel throate;

In marriage, blessynges are botte fewe, I trowe.

MYNSTRELLES. I heare them from eche grene wode tree,

Laverde, we have; and, gyff you please, wille Chauntynge owte so blatauntlie,


[mytte. Tellynge lecturnyes to mee,

As well as owre choughe-voyces wylle perMyscheele ys whanne you are nygh.


Comme then, and see you swotelie tune the See alonge the mees so grene

strynge, Pied daisies, kynge-coppes swote;

And stret, and engyne all the human wytte, Alle wee see, bie non bee seene,

Toe please mie dame.
Nete botte shepe settes here a fote.


We'lle strayne owre wytte and synge. Shepster swayne, you tare mie gratche,

Mynstrelles Songe.
Out uponne ye! lette me goe.

Leave mee swythe, or l’lie alatche?.
Robynne, thys youre dame shall knowe.

The boddynge flourettes bloshes att the lyghte;
The mees be sprenged wyth the yellowe hue;

Ynn daiseyd mantels ys the mountayne dyghte;
See! the crokynge brionie
Rounde the popler twyste hys spraje;

The vesh yonge coweslepe bendethe wyth the Rounde the oake the greene ivie


The trees enlefed, yntoe Heavenne straughte, Florryschethe and lyveth aie.

Whenn gentle wyndes doe blowe, to whestlyng Lette us seate us bie thys tree,

dynne ys broughte. Laughe, and synge to lovynge ayres; Comme, and doe notte coyen bee;

The evenynge commes, and brynges the dewe Nature made all thynges bie payres.

alonge; Drooried cattes wylle after kynde;

The roddie welkynne sheeneth to the eyne;

Arounde the alestake mynstrells synge the Gentle doves wylle kyss and coe:

songe; WOMANNE.

Yonge ivie rounde the doore poste do entwyne; Botte manne, bee moste bee ywrynde,

I laie mee onn the grasse; yette, to mie wylle, Tyile syr preeste make on of two.

Albeytte alle ys fayre, there lackethe somethynge

stylle. Tempte mee ne to the foule thynge;

I wolle no mannes lemanne be;
Tyll syr preeste hys songe doethe synge;

So Adam thoughtenne, whann, yn Paradyse, Thou shalt neere fynde aught of mee.

All Heavenn and Erthe dyd hommage to hys

mynde; MANNE.

Ynn womman alleyne mannes pleasaunce lyes; Bie oure ladie her yborne,

As instrumentes of joie were made the kynde. To morrowe, soone as ytte ys daie,

Go, take a wyfe untoe thie armes, and see. I'll make thee wyfe, ne bee forsworne,

Wynter, and brownie hyiles, wylle have a charme So tyde me lyfe or dethe for aie.

for thee, WOMANNE.

THYRDE MYNSTRELLE. Whatt dothe lette, botte thatte nowe

Whanne Autumpne blake and sonne-brent doe Wre attenes, thos honde yn honde,

appere, Into divinistre goe,

Wyth hys goulde honde guylteynge the fallAnd bee lyncked yn wedlocke bonde?

Bryngeynge oppe Wynterr to folfylle the yere, : Unauthorized.

Beerynge uponne hys backe the riped shule;


eynge lefe,

somine care.

and tere,

Whan al the hyls wythe woddie sede ys whyte; / Shce sayde, and lorde Thomas came over the lea, Whanne levynn-fyres and lemes do mete from As hee the fatte derkynnes was chacynge, (shee; far the syglite;

Shee putte uppe her knittynge, and to hym wente Whann the fayre apple, rudde as even skie, So wee leave hem bothe kyndelie ernbiacynge. Du bende the tree unto the fructyle grounde;

When joicie peres, and berries of blacke die,
Doe daunce yn ayre, and call the eyne arounde;

I lyche eke thys; goe ynn untoe the feaste; Thann, bee the even foule, or even fayre,

Wee wylle permıytte you antecedente bee; Meethynckes mie hartys joie y's steynced wyth

There swotelie synge eche carolle, aud yaped


And there ys monnie, that you merrie bee; SECONDE MYNSTRELLE.

Comme, gentle love, we wylle toe spouse-ftaste Angelles bee wrogte to bee of neidher kynde;


[everych woe. Angelles alleyne fromme chafe desyre bee free; And there ynn ale and wyne bee dreyncted Dheere ys a somwhatte evere yn the mynde, Yatte, wythout wommanne, cannot stylled bee,

ÆLLA, BIRTHA, CELMONDE, MESSENGERE, Ne seyncte yn celles, botte, bavynge blodde


Ælla, the Danes ar thondrynge onn our coaste; Do fynde the spryte to joie on syghte of womanne Lyche scolles of locusts, caste oppe bie the sea, Wommen bee made, notte for hemselves botte

Magnus and Hurra, wythe a doughtie hoaste,

Are ragyng, to be quansed bie none botte thee; manne,

Haste, swyfte as levynne to these royners flee: Bone of hys bone, and chyld of hys desire; Fromme an ynutylle membere fyrste begaune,

Thie dogges alleyne can tame thys ragyage

bulle. Ywroghte with moche of water, lyttele fyre; Therefore theie seke the fyre of love, to hete

Haste swythyn, fore anieghe the towne theie bee,

And Wedecesterres rolle of dome bee fulle. The milkyness of kynde, and make hemselfes complete.

Haste, haste, O Ælla, to the byker fie,

Por yn a momentes space tenne thousand menne Albeytte, wythout wommen, menne were pheeres maie die. To salvage kynde, and wulde botte lyve to slea,

ÆLLA. Botte wommenne efte the spryghte of peace so Beshrew thee for thie sewes! I moste be gon, cheres,

Was ever lockless dome so hard as myne! Tochelod yn angel joie heie angeles bee;

Thos from dysportysmente to warr to ron, Go, take thee swythyn to thie bedde a wyfe, To change the selke veste for the gaberdyne! Bee bante or blessed hie yn proovynge marry age lyfe.

O! lyche a nedere, lette me rounde thee twyne, Anodher Mynstrelles Songe, bie Syr Thybbot Gorges. And hylte thie boddie from the schastes uf As Elynour bie the green lesselle was syttynge,

Crype, As from the Sones hete she harried,

Thou shalte nott, must not, from thie Birtha She sayde, as herr whytte hondes why tc hosen was Botte kenn the dyune of slughorues from afarre. knyttynge,

ALLA, " Whatte pleasure ytt ys to be married !

O love, was thys thie joie, to shewe the treate, “ Mie husbande, lorde Thomas, a forrester boulde, Then gootiyshe to forbydile thie hongered guestes As ever clove pynne, or the baskette,

to eate? Does no chery sauncys from Elynour houlde,

O mie upswalynge harte, what wonls can saie I have ytte as soone as I aske ytte.

The peynes, thatte passethe yon mie soule " Whann I lyved wyth mie fadre yn merrie ybrente? Clowd-Dell,

Thos to bee torne uponne mie spousalle daje, Tho'twas at my liefe to mynde spynnynge,

O! 'tys a peyne beyond antendemente. I stylle wanted somethynge, botte whatie ne Yee mvchtie goddes, and is yor faroures sente coulde telle,


As thous faste dented to a loade of pevne? Mie lorde fadres barbde 3 haulle han ne wyn

Moste wee aie bolde yn chace the shade content,

And for a bodykynî a swarthe obteyne? “ Eche mornynge I ryse, doe 1 sette mie may- 0! whie, yee seynctes, oppress yie thos mie dennes,


[drcerie dole? Somme to spynn, somme to curdell, somme How shalle I speke mie woe, mie fieme, mie Gyi'any new entered doe aske for mie aidens,

CELMONDE, Thann swyth ynne you fynde mee a teachynge.

Sometyme the wyseste lacketh pore mans rede. “ Lorde Walterre, mie fadre, he loved me welle, Reasonne and counyoge wytte efte flees amaie. And nothynge unto mee was nedeynge,

Thanne, loverde lette mnc saie, wyth hommagird Botte schulde I agen goe to merrie Cloud-dell,

drede, In sothen twoulde bee wythoute redeynge." (Bienetis your fote ylayn) mie counselle saie;

Gyff thos wee lett the matter lethlen laie, 3 Bardé, barbed or trapped, as a great horse 4 This diminutive never was used as a mere Bardes, barbes or trappings for horses of service or synonym of its original word. Dean Miles adof show. Cotyrave. The word is peculiarly appro- duces God's bodikins. This oath cannot be repriated to horses, and therefore misapplied here. ceived in evidence.



[ocr errors]




The focmenn, ererych honde-poyncte, getteth fote.

Thou kenneste welle the Dacyannes myttee Mie loverde, lett the speere-menne, dyghte for


[yeares; And all tae sabbataners goe aboute. [fraie, I speke, mie loverde, alleyne to upryse [alyse.

Wythe them a mynnute wurchethe bane for

Theie undoe reaulmes wythyn a syngle hower. Youre wytte froin marvelle, and the warriour to

Rouze all thie honnoure, Birtha; look attoure
Thie bledeynge countrie, whych for hastie dede

Calls, for the rodeynge of soine doughtie power, Ah! nowe thou pottest takells yn mie harte;

To royn yttes royners, make yttes foemenne Mie soulghe dothe nowe begynne to see her. blede.

selle; I wylle upryse mie myghte, and doe mie parte, To slea the foemenne yn mie furie felle. (telle, Rouze allthie love; false and entrykyng wyghte! Botte howe canne tynge mie rampynge fourie Ne leave thie Birtha thos uponne pretence of Whyche ryseth from mie love to Birtha fayre? fyghte. Ne coulde the queede, and alle the myghte of

Thou nedest notte goe, untyll thou haste comHelle,

mand Foundeout impleasaunce of syke blacke ageare.

Under the sygnette of oure lord the kynge. Yette I wylle bee mieselfe, and rouze mie spryte To acte wythe rennome, and goe meet the bloddie

ÆLLA. fyyhte.

And wouldest thou make me then a recreandee BIRTHA,

Hollie seyncte Marie, keepe mee from the

thynge! No, thou schalte never leave thie Birtha's syde:

Heere, Birtha, thou has potte a double stynge, Ne schall the wynde uponne us blowe alleyne; One for thie love, anodher for thie mynde. 1, lyche a uedere, wylle untoe thee byde; Tyde lyfe, tvde deathe, ytte shall behoulde us

BIRTHA. twayne.

Agylted Ælla, thie abredynge blynge. I have mie parte of drierie dole and peyne; 'Twas love of thee thatte foule intente ywrynde. Itte brasteth from mee atte the holtred eyne; Yette heare mie supplycate, to mee attende, Ynne tydes of teares mie swarthynge spryte wyll Hear from mie groted harte the lover and the drayne,

friende. Gyff drerie dole ys thyne, tys twa tymes myne, Lett Celmonde yn thie armour-brace be dyghte;

Goe notte, O Alla; wythe thie Birtha staie; And yn thie stead unto the battle goe; [flighte, For wyth thie semmlykeed mie spryte wyll goe Thie name alleyne wylle putte the Danes to awaje,

The ayre thatt beares ytt woulde presse downe

the foe, O! tys for thee, for thee alleyne I fele; Yett I muste bee mieselfe; with valoures gear

Birtha, yn vayne thou wouldste mee recreande I'lle dyghte mie hearte, and notte mie lymbes

doe; yn stele,

I moste, I wylle, fyghte for mie countries wele, And shake the bloddie swerde and steyned spere. And leave thee for ytt. Celmonde, sweftlie goe;

Telle mie Brystowans to [be] dyghte yn stele; BIRTHA,

Tell hem I scorne to kenne hem from afar, Can Ælla from hys breaste hys Birtha teare? Botte leave the vyrgyn brydall bedde for of Is shce so rou and ugsốinme to hys syghte? Entrykeynge wyght! ys leathall warre so deare?

ÆLLA, BIRTHA. Thou pryzest mee belowe the joies of fyghte.

Thou scalte notte leave mee, albeytte the erthe Hong pendaunte bie thy swerde, and crared for thy morthe.

And thou wylt goe: O mie agroteds harte! ÆLLA.






Dyddest thou kenne howe mie woes, as starres

Headed bie these thie wordes doe onn mee falle,
Thou woulde stryve to gyve mie harte contente,
Wakyng mie slepynge myndeto honnourescalle.
Of seiynesse 1 pryze thee moe yan all [quyre,
Heaven can mee sende, or counynge wytt ac-
Ytte I wylle leave thee, onne the foe to falle,
Retournynge to thie eyne with double fyre.

Mie countrie waites mie marche; I muste awaie;
Albeytte I schulde go to mete the darte
Of certen dethe, yette here I woulde notte staje.
Botte thos to leave thee, Birtha, dotle asswaje 6
Moe torturynge peynes yanne canne be sedde
bie tyngue.

(daie, Yette rouze thie honoure uppe, and wayte the Whan rounde aboute mee songe of warre heie

synge. O Birtha, strev mie agreeme to accaie, And joyous see mie armes, dyghte oute yon

warre arraie.


Moste Birtha boon requeste and bee denyd? Receyve attenes a darte yn sel ynesse and pryde? Due staie, att leaste tylle morrowes sonne ap


5 2y. Sick, quasi ægroted or agreated.
6 Unknown and unintelligible.

« 上一页继续 »