图书图片
PDF
ePub

ÆLLA.

ÆLLA.

ÆLLA.

Laste nyghte, fulle late 1 dydde retourne to reste. What? where? how? Saie, whatte of shee?

As to mie chamber 1 dydde bende mie waie,

To Birtha onne hys name and place addreste; EGWINA.

Downe to hym camme shee; butte thereof the Gone

reste
ÆLLA.

I ken ne matter; so, mie hommage made
Gone! ye goddes!
EGWINA.

0! speake ne moe; mie harte flames yo yttes Alas! ytte ys toe true.

heste; Yee seynctes, hee dies awaie wythe myckle woe! I once was Ælla; nowe bee notte yttes shade. Ælla! whatt? Ælla! Oh! hee lyves agen!

Hanne alle the fuirie of mysfortunes wylle

Fallen onn mie benned headde I hanne been Ælla ÆLLA.

stylle. Cal mee notte Ælla; I am hymme ne moe. Where ys shee gon awaie? Ah! speake! How?

Thys alleyn was unburled of alle mie spryte: When?

Mie honnoure, honnoure, frownd on the dolce EGWINA,

wynde, I will.

Thatte steeked on ytte; nowe wyth rage Im ÆLLA.

pyghte;

A brondeous unweere ys mie engyned mynde. Caparyson a score of stedes; flie, fie!

Mie holmeur yette somme drybblet joie maie Where ys shee? Swyth yone speeke, or instante

fynde, thou shalte die.

To the Danes woundes I wylle another yeve; EGWINA.

Whanne thos mie rennome and mie peace ys Stylle tbie loud rage, and here thou whatte 1

rynde, knowe,

Itte were a recrandize to thyncke toe lyve; ÆLLA.

Mie buscarles, untoe everie asker telle, Oh! speek.

Gyffe nublie Ælla lyved, as noble Ælla felle. EGWINA.

[Stabbeth hys breste. Lyche prymrose, droopynge wythe the heavie

SERVITOURE, rayne.

[wiere,

Ælla ys sleene; the flower of Englonde's marrde! Laste nyghte I lefte her, droopynge with her Her love the gare, thatte gave her harte syke peyne

Be stylle: stythe lette the chyrches rynge mie

knelle.
ÆLLA.
Her love! to whomme?

Call hyther brave Coernyke; he, as warde
Of thys mie Brystowe castle, wylle doe welle.

[Knelle tyngek To thee, her spouse, alleyne. As ys mie hentylle everyche morne to goe,

ÆLLA, EGWINA, SERVYTOURE, COERNYKE. I wente, and oped her chamber doore ynn

ÆLLA. twayue,

Thee I ordeyne the warde; so alle maie telle. Botte found her notte, as I was wont to doe; I have botte lyttel tym to dragge thys lyfe;

Thanne alle arounde the pallace I dyd seere, Mie lethal tale, alyche a lethalle belle, Botte culde (to mie hartes woe) ne fynde her anie

Dynne yn the eares of ber 1 wyschd mie wyfe! wheere.

Botte, ah! shee maie bee fayre.
ÆLLA,

EGWINA.
Thou lyest, foul hagge! thou lyest; thou art her

Yatte shee moste bee, ayde

[bee. To chere her louste;-botte noe; ytte cannotte

ÆLLA.

Ah! saie notte soe; yatte worde woulde Ælla EGWINA,

dobblie slee, Gyff trouthe appear notte inne whatte I have sayde,

[slea. ÆLLA, EGWINA, SERVYTOURE, COERNYKE, Drawe forthe thie anlace swythyn, thanne mee

BIRTHA, HURRA.
ALLA.

ÆLLA,
Botte yette ytte muste, ytte must bee soe; I Ah! Birtha here!
see,

BIRTHA.
Shee wythe somme loustie paramoure ys gone;
Itte moste be soe-oh! howe ytte wracketh mee!

Whatte dynne ys thys? Whatte menes yis leathe Mie race of love, mie race of lyfe ys ronne;

alle knelle?

[hee? Now rage, and brondeous storm, and tempeste

Where ys mie Ælla? Speeke; where? Howe ya

On Alla! art thou yanne alyve and welle! comme; Nete lyrynge upon erthe can now enswote mie

ÆLLA, domme.

I lyve yndeed; botte doe notte lyve for thee.
ÆLLA, EGWINA, SERVYTOURE.

BIRTHA.
SERVYTOURE.
Loverde! I am aboute the trouthe to saie.

Whatte menes mie ?

EGWINA.

ÆLLA.

GODDWYN;
Here mie meneynge see. A TRAGEDIE, BY THOMAS ROWLEIE.
Thie fouiness urged mie honde to gyve thys [Transcribed by Mr. Catcott from a poem in
wounde,

Chatterton's hand writing.]
Ytte mee unsprytes.
BIRTIA.

PROLOGUE,
Ytte hathe unspryted niee.

MADE BIE MAISTRE WILLIAM CANYNGE,
ÆLLA.

WHYLOMME bie pensmenne moke ungentle Ah, Heavens! mie Birtha fallethe to the grounde!

name Butte yette I am a manne, and so wylle bee. Have upon Goddwynne erle of Kente bin layde, HURRA.

Dherebie benyimynge hymine of faie and

Unliart divinistres haveth saide, [fame; Ælla! I amme a Dane; botte yette a friende to

Thatte he was knowen toe noe hallie wurche; thee. Thys damoyselle I founde wythynne a woode,

Botte thys was all hys faulte, he gyfted ne the Strevynge fulle harde anenste a burled swayue:

churche. I sente hym myrynge ynne inie compheeres The aucthoure of the piece whiche we enacte, blodde,

Albeytte a clergyon, trouthe wyll wrytte. Celmonde hys name, chief of thie warrynge Inne drawynge of hys menne no wytte ys lackte; trayne.

Entyn a kynge mote bee full pleased to nyghte. Y'is damoiselle soughte to be here agayne; Attende, and marcke the partes nowe to be The whyche, aibeytte foemen, wee dydd wylle; done; So here wee broughte her wythe you to re- Wee better for toe doe do champyon' anie onne, mayne. COERNIKE.

Persons represented. l'ee nobylle Danes! wythe goulde I wyll you

Harolle, bie T. Ruroleie, the Aucthoure. fylie.

Godd cyn,

Johan de Iscamme.
ÆLLA.

Elwurde,

Syrr Thybbot Gorges. Birtha, mie lyfe! mie love! Oh! she ys fayre. Alstan,

Syrr Alan de Vere. Hlaite faultes coulde Birtha have; whatte faultes Kynge Edwarde, Mastre Willyam Canynge. coulde Ella feare?

Odhers bie Knyghtes Mynstrelles.
BIRTHA.
Amm | yenne thyne? I cannotte blame thie

GoDDWYN and HAROLDE.
feere.

GODDWYN. Botte doe reste mee uponne mie Ælla's breaste;

HAROLDE !
I wylle to thee bewryen the woefulle gare.

HAROLDE.
C-monde dyd comme to mee at tyme of reste,
Wordeynge for mee to flie, att your requeste,

Mie loverde!
To Watchette towne, where you deceasynge

GODDWYN. laie;

(preste, I wyth hym fledde; thro' a murke wode we

0! I weepe to thyncke, Where hee foule love unto mie eares dyd saie:

What foemen ryseth to ifrete the londe. The Danes

Theie batten onne her fleshe, her bartes bloude

dryncke,
ÆLLA.

And all ys graunted froin the roieal honde.
Oh! I die contente [Dieth.

HAROLDE,
BIRTHA.

Lette notte thie agreme blyn, ne aledge? stonde;
Oh! ys mie Ælla dedde? Bee I toe wepe, I wepe in teres of

gore: Oh! I wyll make hys grave mie vyrgyn spousal Am I betrassed, syke shulde mie burlie bronde bedde.

Depeyncte the wronges on hym from whom I [Birtha feyncteth. bore. COERNYKE.

GODDWYN. Whatte? Ælla deadde! and Birtha dyynge toe! I ken thie spryte ful welle; gentle thou art, Sne falles the fayrest flourettes of the playne. Stringe, ugsomme, rou, as smethynge arıyes Who canne unplyle the wurchys Heaven can seeme; doe,

Yett efte, I feare, thie chefes toe grete a parte, Or who untweste the role of shappe yn twayne? And that thie rede bee efte borne downe bie Ælla, thie rennome was thie onlie gayne;

What tydynges from the kynge? [breme, For yette, thic pleasaunce, and thie joie was Toste,

"No instance of this verb has yet been adduced Thie countrymen shall rere thee on the playne, from a writer earlier than Shakspeare. A pyle of carnes, as anie grave can boaste: 2 Unintelligible. Mr. Bryant supposed it to Further, a just amede to thee to bee,

nave been written adelege, which he says is analo. íone Heaven thou synge of Godde, on Erthe we'lle gous to the Saxon adverb ydelech, and corresponds synge of thec.

to Chatterton's interpretation.

[ocr errors]

HAROLDE.

HAROLDE.
His Normans know.

Aye, I knowe, she is his queene, I make noe compheere of the shemrynge trayne. Albeytte, dyd shee speeke ber foemen fayre,

I wuide dequace her comlie semlykeene, GODDWYN.

And fouide mie bloddie anlace yn her hayre. Ah, Harolde' tis a sy bte of mvckle woe,

GOLDWYN.
To kenne these Normannes everich rednome
What tydynge withe the foulke? [gayne. 'Thye fhuir blyn,

HAROLDE.
HAROLDE,
Stylle mormorynge atte yer shap, stylle toe the

No, bydde tbe leatbal mere, kynge

Upriste withe hiltrene wyndes and cause unTheie rolle theire trobbles, lyche a sorgie sea.

Beheste it to be lete; so twylle appeare, (kend, Hane Englonde tbenne a tongue, butte notte a

Eere Harolde hyde bys name, his countries stynge?

[bee?

friende. Dothe alle colopleyne, yette none wylle ryghted

The gule-steynct brygandyne, the adventayle,

The feerie an ace brede shal make mie gare preGODDWYN.

vayle. Awayte the tyme whame Godde wylle sende us

GODDWYN,
ayde.

Harolde, what wuldest doe?
HAROLDE,

HAROLDE.
No, we muste streve to ayde oureselves wyth
powre.
(prayde.

Bethyncke thee whatt. Whan G velde wyll sende us ayde! tis fetelie Here liethe Englonde, all her drites unfree, Muste vé th se cake awaie the lyve-longe

Here liethe Norians coupynge her bie lotte, howie?

Caliyonyng everich native plant to gre, Thos croche oure armes, and ne toe lyve

Whatte woulde I doe? I broudeous wulde bem Unburled, undelievre, unespryte? [dareygne,

slee;

[bгеше; ; Far fro mie harte be tied thyk thoughte of peyne,

Tare owte theyre sable harte bie rýchtetulle lle free mie countrie, or Ille die yn fyghte. Theyre deathe a menes untoe mie lyle shuide

bee, GODDWYN.

Mie spryte shulde revelle yn theyr harte-blodde Botte lette us wayte untylle somme season fytte.

strene. Mie kentyshmen, thie Summertons sball ryse; Eftsoones I wylle bewryne mie ragefulle ire, Adented prowess to the gite of witte,

And Goddis anlace weilde yn furie dyre.
Agayue the argent horse sball duunce yn skies.
Oh Harolde, heere forstraughteynge wanhope
lies.

Whatte wouldest thou wythe the kynge? Englonde, oh Englonde, tis for thee I blethe.

HAROLDE.
Wylste Edwarde tothie sonnes wylle nete alyse,
Shulde anie of thie sonnes fele aughte of ethe?

Take offe hrs crowne; Upponne the trone I sette thee, helde thie

The ruler of somme mynster hymn ordegne; crowne;

[downe.

Sette uppe som dygner than I han pyghte Botte oh! twere hommage nowe to pyghte thee

downe; Thou arte all preeste, and notheynge of the

And peace in Englonde shulde be brayd agayre. kynge.

GODDWYN. Thou arte alle Norman, nothynge of mie blodde.

No, lette the super-hallie seyocte kynge reyane, Know, ytte beseies thee notte amasse to synge; Ande somne moe reded rule the untentyti Servynge thie leegefolc ke thou arte servynge reaulme; Godde.

Kynge Edwarde, yn hys cortesie, wylle deyerit HAROLDE.

To yielde the spoiles, and alleyne were the Thenne Ile doe Heaven a servyce. To the

heaulme: The dailie contekes of the londe ascende. [skyes

Botte from mee harte bee everych thoughite of The wyddowe, fabdrelesse, and bondemennes

gayne, cries

Not anie of mie kin I wysche him to ordeyne. Acheke the mokie aire and Heaven astende3,

HAROLDE, On us the rulers doe the folcke depende;

Tell me the meenes, I wylle boute ytt straste; Hancelled from Erthe these Normanne hyndes shalle bee;

Bete mee to slea mieselfe, ytte shalle be dune.

GODDWYN. Lyche a battently low, mie swerde shalle brende. Lyche fallynge softe rayne droppes, I wyll hem To thee I wylle swytiyone the menes upplaste, slea;

[fayte; Bie whyche thou, Harolde, shalte be proved Wee wayte too longe; oure purpose wylle de

mie sonne. boune the hyghe empryze, and rouze the cham- I have longe seen whatte peynes were undergoo, Pyones strayte.

Whatte agrames braunce out from the general GODDWYN.

tree; Thie suster

The tyme ys commynge, whan the mollock groa
Drented of alle yts swolynge owndes shallt ber;

Mie remedie is goode ; our mende shall rose; 3 Unauthorized.

Eftsoons the Normans and oxre ayrape dies.

GODDWYN.

KYNGE.

KYNGE.

HAROLDE.

QUEENE. I will to the West, and gemote alle mie knyghtes, Mancas6 you have yn store, and to them parte; Wythe byiles that pancte for blodde, and Youre leege-folcke make moke dole, you have sheeldes as brede

[dyghtes theyr worthe asterte -As the ybroched Moon, when blaunch she The wodeland grounde or water-mantled medle;

I heste no rede of you. I ken mie friendes. Wythe hondes whose myghte canne make the doughtiest blede,

Hailie cheie are, sulle ready nice to hele. Who efte have knelte upon forslagen foes,

Theyre volundes are ystorven to selt endes ; Whoe wythe yer fote orrests a castle-stede,

No denwere yn mie breste I of them fele: Who dare on kynges for tu bewrecke yiere woes ;

I muste to prayers; goe yn, and you do wele; Nowe wylle the menne of Englonde baile the

I muste ne lose the dutie of the daie; daie,

(fraie.

Gu inne go ynne, ande viewe the azure rele, Whan Goddwyn leades them to the ryghtfulle

Fulle welle I wote you have noe mynde toe

praie.
GODDWYN.

QUEENE,
Botte firste we'll call the loverdes of the West,
The erles of Mercia, Couventrie and all;

I leeve youe to doe hommage heaven-were; The moe wee gayne, the gare wylle prosper

To serve yor leege-foleke toe is dueynge hommage

there. Wythe syke a nomber wee can never fall. [beste,

KYNGE and Syr Hughe. HAROLDE. True, so wee sal doe best to lyncke the chayne, And alle attenes the spreddynge 'kyngedomme Miefriende, syr Hughe, whatte tydynges brynges byude.

[feygne

thee here? No crouched champyone 4 wythe an harte moe

HUGHE.
Dyd yssue owie the hallie swerde to fynde,
Than I nowe stres to ryd mie londe of peyne.

There is no mancas yn mie loverdes ente; Goddwyn, what thanckes owre laboures wylie

The hus dyspense unpaied doe appere; en hepe!

The laste receivure ys eftsoones dispente. I'lle ryse inie friendes unto the bloddie pleyne;

KYNGE. l'lle wake the hounoure thatte ys yowe astepe. Thenne guylde the Weste. When wyile the chiefes mete atte thie feastive

HUGHE. halle,

[calle? That I wythe voice alowde maie there upon 'em

Mie loverde, I dyd speke

Untoe the mitte erle Harolde of the thynge; GODDWYN.

He raysed hys honde, and smote me onne the Next eye, my sonne.

cheke,

[kynge. HAROLDE.

Saieynye, go beare thatte message to the Nowe, Englonde, ys the tyme,

KYNGE. Whan thee or thie felle foemens cause moste die.

Arace hym of hys powere; bie Goddis worde, Thie geason wronges bee reyne ynto theyre Ne moe thatte Harolde shall gwield the erlies prympe;

swerde. Now wylle thie sonnes unto thie succoure flie.

HUGHE.
Alyche a storm egederinge yo the skie,
Tys fulle ande brasteth on the chaper grounde;

Atte seeson fytte, mie loverde, lette itt bee; Sycke shalle mie fhuirye on the Normans flie,

Botte nowe the folcke doe soe enalse nys naine, And alle theyre mittee menne be sleene arounde.

Inpe strevvynge to slea hymme, ourselves wc Nowe, nowe, wylle Harolde or oppressionne

slea; falle,

[calle.

Syke ys the doughtyness of hys grete faine. Ne nioe the Englyshmenne yn vayne for hele shal KYNGE EDWARDE and hys QUEENE.

Hughe, I bethyncke, thie rede ys notte to blame. QUEENE.

Botte thou maiest fynde fuile store of marckes Botte, loverde, whie so inanie Normannes here? Mee thynckcthe wee bee notte ya Englyshe londe.

Mie noble loverde, Godwynn ys the same; [ent. These browded straungers alwaie do appere, He sweeres he wylle notte swelle the Normans Theie parte yor trone, and sete at your ryghte

KYNGE. honde.

Ah traytoure! botte mie rage I wylie comKYNGE.

maunde,

(launde. Go to, yoe to, you doe ne understonde:

Thou arte a Normanne, Hughe, a straunger to the Theie yeave meelyste, and dyd mie bou kie kepe; Theie dyd mee feeste, and did embowre me

Thou kenneste howe these Englysche erle doe gronde;

(slepe.

Such stedness in the yll andevyllethylige, [bere To trete hem ylle wulde lette mie kyndnesse

Botte atte the goode theie hover yn deunere,

Onknowlachynge gif thereunto tu clynge. 4 Croucher champyone, one who takes up the cross in order to fight against the Saracens.

5 Browder, embroidered; it is conjectured em- 6 Mancas were small Saxon coins, broidery was not used in England till Henry II. 7 Unintelligible.

KYNGE.

yn Keute.

HUGHB.

1

HUGHE.

Heckled yn beastskyns, slepte uponne the waste, Onwordie syke a marvelle of a kynge!

And wyth the morneynge rouzed the wolfe to O Edwarde, thou deservest purer leege;

fyghte, To thee beie shulden al theire mancas biynge;

Svefte as descendeynge lemes of roddie lyghte Tbie nodde should save menne, and thie glomb

Plonged to the hulstred bedde of laveynge seas, forslege.

Gerd the blacke mountayn okes yn drybblets I amme no curriedowe, I lacke no wite,

twighte, I speke whatte bee the trouthe, and whatte all see

And ranne yn thoughte alonge the azure mees, is ryghte.

Whose eyne dyd feerie sheene, like blue-hayred KYNGE.

defs, Thou arte a pallie manne, I doe thee pryze.

That drcerie hange upon Dover's emblaunched clefs. Comme, comme, and here and hele mee ynn mie Soft boundeynge over swelleynge azure reles Fulle twentie mancas I wyile thee alise, (praires. The salvage natyves save a shyppe appere ; And twayne of hamlettes to thee and thie An uncouthe denwere to theire bosomme steles, heyres.

Theyre myghte ys knopped ynne the froste of Soe shalle all Normannes from mie londe be fed,

fere. Theie alleyn have syke love as to acquyre yer The headed javlyn lisseth here and there; bredde.

Theie stonde, theie ronne, theie loke wyth eger eyne;

(ayre, CHORUS

The shyppes sayle, boleynge wythe the kyndelie TO GODDWYN, A TRAGEDIE.

Ronneth to barbour from the beatynge bryne; Whan Freedom, dreste yn blodde-steyned veste,

Theie dryve awaie aghaste, whanne to the stronde To everie knyghte her warre-songe sunge,

A burled Trojan lepes, wythe morglaien sweerde ya Uponde her hedde wylde wedes were spredde;

honde, A gorie anlace bye lier honge.

Hymme followede estsoones hys compheeres, She daunced one the heathe;

whose swerdes She hearde the voice of deathe;

Glestred lyke gledeynge starres yn frostie pete, Pale-eyned affryghte, hys harte of sylver hue,

Hayleynge theyrecaptayneinchirckyngewordes In vayne assayled her bosomme to acale;

Kynge of thelande, whereon theie set theyre fete. She hcarde ontlemed the shriekynge voice of woe,

The greete kynge Brutus thanne theie dyd bym And sadnesse ynne the owlette shake the dale. She sbooke the buried speere,

greete,

Prepared for battle, mareschalled the fyghte;
On bie she jeste her sheelde,
Her foemen all appere,

Theie urged the warre, the natyves fledde, as
flete

[sygbte; And flizze alonge the feelde.

As feaynge cloudes that swymme before the Power, wythe his heafod straught ynto the skyes,

Tyll tyred wythe battles, for to ceese the fraie, Hys speere a sonne-beame, and lys sheelde a

Theie uncted Brutus kynge, and gave the Trojanns starre,

swaie. Alyche twaie brendeynge gronfyres rolls hys eyes, Chaftes with hys yronne feete and soundes to war.

Twayne of twelve years han lemed up the She syttes upon a rocke,

myndes, She bendes before hys speere,

Leggende the salvage unthewes of theire breste, She ryses from the shocke,

Improved in mysterk warre, and lymmed theyre Wieldynge her owne yn ayre.

kyndes,

(reste. Harde as the thonder dothe she drive ytte on,

Whenne Brute from Brutons sonke to æterne Wytte scillye wympled gies ytte to hys crowne,

Eftsoons the gentle Locryne was possest Hys longe sharpe speere, hys spreddynge sheelde

Of swaie, and vested yn the paramente; ys gon,

Halceld the bykrous Huns, who dyd infeste He falles, and fallynge rolleth thousandes down. Hys wakeynge kyngdom wyth a foule intente; War, goare-faced-war, bie envie burld arist,

As hys broade swerde oer Homberres heade was Hys feerie heaulme noddynge to the ayre,

honge,

(alonge Tenne bloddie arrowes ynne hys streynynge

He tourned toe ryver wyde, and roarynge rolled fyste

He wedded Gendolyne of roieal sede, (spreade;
Upon whose countenance rodde healthe was

Bloushing, alyche the scarlette of her wede,
ENGLYSH METAMORPHOSIS.

She sonke to pleasaunce on the marryage bedde.

Eftsoons her peacefull joie of mynde was fledde; BIE T. ROWLEIE.

Elstrid ametten with the kynge Locryne; BOOKE Ist'.

Unnombered beauties were upon her shedde, [This poem is printed from a single sheet in Chat- Moche fyne, moche fayrer thanne was Gendo

terton's hand-writing, communicated by Mr. lyne; Barrett, who received it from Chatterton.] The mornynge tynge, the rose, the lillie floure,

In ever ronneynge race on her dyd peyncte theyre Whanne Scythyannes, salvage as the wolves powere. theie chacde,

The gentle suyte of Locryne gayned her lore; Peyncted in horrowe formes bie nature dyghte,

Theie lyved soft momentes to a swotie age; Booke 1st. I will endeavour to get the remain- Eft wandringe yn the coppyce, delle, and grove, der of these poems. (Chatterton.

Where ne one eyne mote theyre disporte engage

« 上一页继续 »