Chapter 8
Ofte have I seene thee atte the none-daie feaste, 45 Whanne deysde bie thieselfe, for wante of pheeres[18], Awhylst thie merryemen dydde laughe and jeaste, Onn mee thou semest all eyne, to mee all eares. Thou wardest mee as gyff ynn hondred feeres, Alest a daygnous[19] looke to thee be sente, 50 And offrendes[20] made mee, moe thann yie compheeres, Offe scarpes[21] of scarlette, & fyne paramente[22]; All thie yntente to please was lyssed[23] to mee, I saie ytt, I moste streve thatt you ameded bee.
ÆLLA.
Mie lyttel kyndnesses whyche I dydd doe, 55 Thie gentleness doth corven them soe grete, Lyche bawsyn[24] olyphauntes[25] mie gnattes doe shewe; Thou doest mie thoughtes of paying love amate[26]. Botte hann mie actyonns straughte[27] the rolle of fate, Pyghte thee fromm Hell, or broughte Heaven down to thee, 60 Layde the whol worlde a falldstole atte thie feete, On smyle woulde be suffycyll mede for mee. I amm Loves borro'r, & canne never paie, Bott be hys borrower stylle, & thyne, mie swete, for aie.
BIRTHA.
Love, doe notte rate your achevmentes[28] soe smalle; 65 As I to you, syke love untoe mee beare; For nothynge paste wille Birtha ever call, Ne on a foode from Heaven thynke to cheere. As farr as thys frayle brutylle flesch wylle spere, Syke, & ne fardher I expecte of you; 70 Be notte toe slacke yn love, ne overdeare; A smalle fyre, yan a loude flame, proves more true.
ÆLLA.
Thie gentle wordis doe thie volunde[29] kenne To bee moe clergionde thann ys ynn meyncte of menne.
ÆLLA, BIRTHA, CELMONDE, MYNSTRELLES.
CELMONDE.
Alle blessynges showre on gentle Ælla's hedde! 75 Oft maie the moone, yn sylverr sheenynge lyghte, Inne varied chaunges varyed blessynges shedde, Besprengeynge far abrode mischaunces nyghte; And thou, fayre Birtha! thou, fayre Dame, so bryghte, Long mayest thou wyth Ælla fynde muche peace, 80 Wythe selynesse, as wyth a roabe, be dyghte, Wyth everych chaungynge mone new joies encrease! I, as a token of mie love to speake, Have brought you jubbes of ale, at nyghte youre brayne to breake.
ÆLLA.
Whan sopperes paste we'lle drenche youre ale soe stronge, 85 Tyde lyfe, tyde death.
CELMONDE.
Ye Mynstrelles, chaunt your songe.
_Mynstrelles Songe, bie a Manne and Womanne._
MANNE.
Tourne thee to thie Shepsterr[30] swayne; Bryghte sonne has ne droncke the dewe From the floures of yellowe hue; Tourne thee, Alyce, backe agayne. 90
WOMANNE.
No, bestoikerre[31], I wylle goe, Softlie tryppynge o'ere the mees[32], Lyche the sylver-footed doe, Seekeynge shelterr yn grene trees.
MANNE.
See the moss-growne daisey'd banke, 95 Pereynge ynne the streme belowe; Here we'lle sytte, yn dewie danke; Tourne thee, Alyce, do notte goe.
WOMANNE.
I've hearde erste mie grandame saie, Yonge damoyselles schulde ne bee, 100 Inne the swotie moonthe of Maie, Wythe yonge menne bie the grene wode tree.
MANNE.
Sytte thee, Alyce, sytte, and harke, Howe the ouzle[33] chauntes hys noate, The chelandree[34], greie morn larke, 105 Chauntynge from theyre lyttel throate;
WOMANNE.
I heare them from eche grene wode tree, Chauntynge owte so blatauntlie[35], Tellynge lecturnyes[36] to mee, Myscheefe ys whanne you are nygh. 110
MANNE.
See alonge the mees so grene Pied daisies, kynge-coppes swote; Alle wee see, bie non bee scene, Nete botte shepe settes here a fote.
WOMANNE.
Shepster swayne, you tare mie gratche[37]. 115 Oute uponne ye! lette me goe. Leave mee swythe, or I'lle alatche. Robynne, thys youre dame shall knowe.
MANNE.
See! the crokynge brionie Rounde the popler twyste hys spraie; 120 Rounde the oake the greene ivie Florryschethe and lyveth aie.
Lette us seate us bie thys tree, Laughe, and synge to lovynge ayres; Comme, and doe notte coyen bee; 125 Nature made all thynges bie payres. Drooried cattes wylle after kynde; Gentle doves wylle kyss and coe.
WOMANNE.
Botte manne, hee moste bee ywrynde, Tylle syr preeste make on of two. 130
Tempte mee ne to the foule thynge; I wylle no mannes lemanne be; Tyll syr preeste hys songe doethe synge, Thou shalt neere fynde aught of mee.
MANNE.
Bie oure ladie her yborne, 135 To-morrowe, soone as ytte ys daie, I'lle make thee wyfe, ne bee forsworne, So tyde me lyfe or dethe for aie.
WOMANNE.
Whatt dothe lette, botte thatte nowe Wee attenes[38], thos honde yn honde, 140 Unto divinistre[39] goe, And bee lyncked yn wedlocke bonde?
MANNE.
I agree, and thus I plyghte Honde, and harte, and all that's myne; Goode syr Rogerr, do us ryghte, 145 Make us one, at Cothbertes shryne.
BOTHE.
We wylle ynn a bordelle[40] lyve, Hailie, thoughe of no estate; Everyche clocke moe love shall gyve; Wee ynne godenesse wylle bee greate. 150
ÆLLA.
I lyche thys songe, I lyche ytt myckle well; And there ys monie for yer syngeynge nowe; Butte have you noone thatt marriage-blessynges telle?
CELMONDE.
In marriage, blessynges are botte fewe, I trowe.
MYNSTRELLES.
Laverde[41], wee have; and, gyff you please, wille synge, 155 As well as owre choughe-voyces wylle permytte.
ÆLLA.
Comme then, and see you swotelie tune the strynge, And stret[42], and engyne all the human wytte, Toe please mie dame.
MYNSTRELLES.
We'lle strayne owre wytte and synge.
_Mynstrelles Songe._
FYRSTE MYNSTRYLLE.
The boddynge flourettes bloshes atte the lyghte; 160 The mees be sprenged wyth the yellowe hue; Ynn daiseyd mantels ys the mountayne dyghte; The nesh[43] yonge coweslepe bendethe wyth the dewe; The trees enlefed, yntoe Heavenne straughte. Whenn gentle wyndes doe blowe, to whestlyng dynne ys broughte. 165
The evenynge commes, and brynges the dewe alonge; The roddie welkynne sheeneth to the eyne; Arounde the alestake Mynstrells synge the songe; Yonge ivie rounde the doore poste do entwyne; I laie mee onn the grasse; yette, to mie wylle, 170 Albeytte alle ys fayre, there lackethe somethynge stylle.
SECONDE MYNSTRELLE.
So Adam thoughtenne, whann, ynn Paradyse, All Heavenn and Erthe dyd hommage to hys mynde; Ynn Womman alleyne mannes pleasaunce lyes; As Instrumentes of joie were made the kynde. 175 Go, take a wyfe untoe thie armes, and see Wynter, and brownie hylles, wyll have a charme for thee.
THYRDE MYNSTRELLE.
Whanne Autumpne blake[44] and sonne-brente doe appere, With hys goulde honde guylteynge the falleynge lefe, Bryngeynge oppe Wynterr to folfylle the yere, 180 Beerynge uponne hys backe the riped shefe; Whan al the hyls wythe woddie sede ys whyte; Whanne levynne-fyres and lemes do mete from far the syghte;
Whann the fayre apple, rudde as even skie, Do bende the tree unto the fructyle grounde; 185 When joicie peres, and berries of blacke die, Doe daunce yn ayre, and call the eyne arounde; Thann, bee the even foule, or even fayre, Meethynckes mie hartys joie ys steynced wyth somme care.
SECONDE MYNSTRELLE.
Angelles bee wrogte to bee of neidher kynde; 190 Angelles alleyne fromme chafe[45] desyre bee free; Dheere ys a somwhatte evere yn the mynde, Yatte, wythout wommanne, cannot stylled bee; Ne seyncte yn celles, botte, havynge blodde and tere[46], Do fynde the spryte to joie on syghte of womanne fayre: 195
Wommen bee made, notte for hemselves, botte manne, Bone of hys bone, and chyld of hys desire; Fromme an ynutyle membere fyrste beganne, Ywroghte with moche of water, lyttele fyre; Therefore theie seke the fyre of love, to hete 200 The milkyness of kynde, and make hemselfes complete.
Albeytte, wythout wommen, menne were pheeres To salvage kynde, and wulde botte lyve to flea, Botte wommenne efte the spryghte of peace so cheres, Tochelod yn Angel joie heie Angeles bee; 205 Go, take thee swythyn[47] to thie bedde a wyfe, Bee bante or blessed hie, yn proovynge marryage lyfe.
_Anodher Mynstrelles Songe_, bie Syr _Thybbot Gorges_.
As Elynour bie the green lesselle was syttynge, As from the sones hete she harried, She sayde, as herr whytte hondes whyte hosen was knyttynge, 210 Whatte pleasure ytt ys to be married!
Mie husbande, Lorde Thomas, a forrester boulde, As ever clove pynne, or the baskette, Does no cherysauncys from Elynour houlde, I have ytte as soone as I aske ytte. 215
Whann I lyved wyth mie fadre yn merrie Clowd-dell. Tho' twas at my liefe to mynde spynnynge, I stylle wanted somethynge, botte whatte ne coulde telle, Mie lorde fadres barbde haulle han ne wynnynge. Eche mornynge I ryse, doe I sette mie maydennes, 220 Somme to spynn, somme to curdell, somme bleachynge, Gyff any new entered doe aske for mie aidens, Thann swythynne you fynde mee a teachynge.
Lorde Walterre, mie fadre, he loved me welle, And nothynge unto mee was nedeynge, 225 Botte schulde I agen goe to merrie Cloud-dell, In sothen twoulde bee wythoute redeynge.
Shee sayde, and lorde Thomas came over the lea, As hee the fatte derkynnes was chacynge, Shee putte uppe her knyttynge, and to hym wente shee; 230 So wee leave hem bothe kyndelie embracynge.
ÆLLA.
I lyche eke thys; goe ynn untoe the feaste; Wee wylle permytte you antecedente bee; There swotelie synge eche carolle, and yaped[48] jeaste; And there ys monnie, that you merrie bee; 235 Comme, gentle love, wee wylle toe spouse-feaste goe, And there ynn ale and wyne bee dreyncted[49] everych woe.
ÆLLA, BIRTHA, CELMONDE, MESSENGERE.
MESSENGERE.
Ælla, the Danes ar thondrynge onn our coaste; Lyche scolles of locusts, caste oppe bie the sea, Magnus and Hurra, wythe a doughtie hoaste, 240 Are ragyng, to be quansed[50] bie none botte thee; Haste, swyfte as Levynne to these royners flee: Thie dogges alleyne can tame thys ragynge bulle. Haste swythyn, fore anieghe the towne theie bee, And Wedecesterres rolle of dome bee fulle. 245 Haste, haste, O Ælla, to the byker flie, For yn a momentes space tenne thousand menne maie die.
ÆLLA.
Beshrew thee for thie newes! I moste be gon. Was ever lockless dome so hard as myne! Thos from dysportysmente to warr to ron, 250 To chaunge the selke veste for the gaberdyne!
BIRTHA.
O! lyche a nedere, lette me rounde thee twyne, And hylte thie boddie from the schaftes of warre. Thou shalte nott, must not, from thie Birtha ryne, Botte kenn the dynne of slughornes from afarre. 255
ÆLLA.
O love, was thys thie joie, to shewe the treate, Than groffyshe to forbydde thie hongered guestes to eate?
O mie upswalynge[51] harte, whatt wordes can saie The peynes, thatte passethe ynn mie soule ybrente? Thos to bee torne uponne mie spousalle daie, 260 O! 'tys a peyne beyond entendemente. Yee mychtie Goddes, and is yor favoures sente As thous faste dented to a loade of peyne? Moste wee aie holde yn chace the shade content. And for a bodykyn[52] a swarthe obteyne? 265 O! whie, yee seynctes, oppress yee thos mie fowle? How shalle I speke mie woe, mie freme, mie dreerie dole?
CELMONDE.
Sometyme the wyseste lacketh pore mans rede. Reasonne and counynge wytte efte flees awaie. Thanne, loverde, lett me saie, wyth hommaged drede (Bieneth your fote ylayn) mie counselle saie; 271 Gyff thos wee lett the matter lethlen[53] laie, The foemenn, everych honde-poyncte, getteth fote. Mie loverde, lett the speere-menne, dyghte for fraie, And all the sabbataners goe aboute. 275 I speke, mie loverde, alleyne to upryse Youre wytte from marvelle, and the warriour to alyse.
ÆLLA.
Ah! nowe thou pottest takells[54] yn mie harte; Mie soulghe dothe nowe begynne to see herselle; I wylle upryse mie myghte, and doe mie parte, 280 To flea the foemenne yn mie furie felle. Botte howe canne tynge mie rampynge fourie telle. Whyche ryseth from mie love to Birtha fayre? Ne coulde the queede, and alle the myghte of Helle, Founde out impleasaunce of syke blacke a geare. 285 Yette I wylle bee mieselfe, and rouze mie spryte To acte wythe rennome, and goe meet the bloddie fyghte.
BIRTHA.
No, thou schalte never leave thie Birtha's syde; Ne schall the wynde uponne us blowe alleyne; I, lyche a nedre, wylle untoe thee byde; 290 Tyde lyfe, tyde deathe, ytte shall behoulde us twayne. I have mie parte of drierie dole and peyne; Itte brasteth from mee atte the holtred eyne; Ynne tydes of teares mie swarthynge spryte wyll drayne, Gyff drerie dole ys thyne, tys twa tymes myne. 295 Goe notte, Ælla; wythe thie Birtha staie; For wyth thie femmlykeed mie spryte wyll goe awaie.
ÆLLA.
O! tys for thee, for thee alleyne I fele; Yett I muste bee mieselfe; with valoures gear I'lle dyghte mie hearte, and notte mie lymbes yn stele, 300 And shake the bloddie swerde and steyned spere.
BIRTHA.
Can Ælla from hys breaste hys Birtha teare? Is shee so rou and ugsomme[55] to hys fyghte? Entrykeynge wyght! ys leathall warre so deare? Thou pryzest mee belowe the joies of fyghte. 305 Thou scalte notte leave mee, albeytte the erthe Hong pendaunte bie thie swerde, and craved for thy morthe.
ÆLLA.
Dyddest thou kenne howe mie woes, as starres ybrente, Headed bie these thie wordes doe onn mee falle, Thou woulde stryve to gyve mie harte contente, 310 Wakyng mie slepynge mynde to honnoures calle. Of selynesse I pryze thee moe yan all Heaven can mee sende, or counynge wytt acquyre, Yette I wylle leave thee, onne the foe to falle, Retournynge to thie eyne with double fyre. 315
BIRTHA.
Moste Birtha boon requeste and bee denyd? Receyve attenes a darte yn selynesse and pryde? Doe staie, att leaste tylle morrowes sonne apperes.
ÆLLA.
Thou kenneste welle the Dacyannes myttee powere; Wythe them a mynnute wurchethe bane for yeares; 320 Theie undoe reaulmes wythyn a syngle hower. Rouze all thie honnoure, Birtha; look attoure Thie bledeynge countrie, whych for hastie dede Calls, for the rodeynge of some doughtie power, To royn yttes royners, make yttes foemenne blede. 325
BIRTHA.
Rouze all thie love; false and entrykyng wyghte! Ne leave thie Birtha thos uponne pretence of fyghte.
Thou nedest notte goe, untyll thou haste command Under the sygnette of oure lorde the kynge.
ÆLLA.
And wouldest thou make me then a recreande? 330 Hollie Seyncte Marie, keepe mee from the thynge! Heere, Birtha, thou hast potte a double stynge, One for thie love, anodher for thie mynde.
BIRTHA.
Agylted[56] Ælla, thie abredynge[57] blynge[58]. Twas love of thee thatte foule intente ywrynde. 335 Yette heare mie supplycate, to mee attende, Hear from mie groted[59] harte the lover and the friende. Lett Celmonde yn thie armour-brace be dyghte; And yn thie stead unto the battle goe; Thie name alleyne wylle putte the Danes to flyghte, 340 The ayre thatt beares ytt woulde presse downe the foe.
ÆLLA.
Birtha, yn vayne thou wouldste mee recreand doe; I moste, I wylle, fyghte for mie countries wele, And leave thee for ytt. Celmonde, sweftlie goe, Telle mie Brystowans to bedyghte yn stele; 345 Tell hem I scorne to kenne hem from afar, Botte leave the vyrgyn brydall bedde for bedde of warre.
ÆLLA, BIRTHA.
BIRTHA.
And thou wylt goe; O mie agroted harte!
ÆLLA.
Mie countrie waites mie marche; I muste awaie; Albeytte I schulde goe to mete the darte 350 Of certen Dethe, yette here I woulde notte staie. Botte thos to leave thee, Birtha, dothe asswaie Moe torturynge peynes yanne canne be sedde bie tyngue, Yette rouze thie honoure uppe, and wayte the daie, Whan rounde aboute mee songe of warre heie synge. 355 O Birtha, strev mie agreeme[60] to accaie[61], And joyous see mie armes, dyghte oute ynn warre arraie.
BIRTHA.
Difficile[62] ys the pennaunce, yette I'lle strev To keepe mie woe behyltren yn mie breaste. Albeytte nete maye to mee pleasaunce yev, 360 Lyche thee, I'lle strev to sette mie mynde atte reste. Yett oh! forgeve, yff I have thee dystreste; Love, doughtie love, wylle beare no odher swaie. Juste as I was wythe Ælla to be bleste, Shappe foullie thos hathe snatched hym awaie. 365 It was a tene too doughtie to bee borne, Wydhoute an ounde of teares and breaste wyth syghes ytorne.
ÆLLA.
Thie mynde ys now thieselfe; why wylte thou bee All blanche, al kyngelie, all soe wyse yn mynde, Alleyne to lett pore wretched Ælla see, 370 Whatte wondrous bighes[63] he nowe muste leave behynde? O Birtha fayre, warde everyche commynge wynde, On everych wynde I wylle a token sende; Onn mie longe shielde ycorne thie name thoul't fynde. Butte here commes Celmonde, wordhie knyghte and friende. 375
ÆLLA, BIRTHA, CELMONDE
_speaking._
Thie Brystowe knyghtes for thie forth-comynge lynge[64]; Echone athwarte hys backe hys longe warre-shield dothe slynge.
ÆLLA.
Birtha, adieu; but yette I cannotte goe.
BIRTHA.
Lyfe of mie spryte, mie gentle Ælla staie. 380 Engyne mee notte wyth syke a drierie woe.
ÆLLA.
I muste, I wylle; tys honnoure cals awaie.
BIRTHA.
O mie agroted harte, braste, braste ynn twaie. Ælla, for honnoure, flyes awaie from mee.
ÆLLA.
Birtha, adieu; I maie notte here obaie. 385 I'm flyynge from mieselfe yn flying thee.
BIRTHA.
O Ælla, housband, friend, and loverde, staie. He's gon, he's gone, alass! percase he's gone for aie.
CELMONDE.
Hope, hallie suster, sweepeynge thro' the skie, In crowne of goulde, and robe of lillie whyte, 390 Whyche farre abrode ynne gentle ayre doe flie, Meetynge from dystaunce the enjoyous fyghte, Albeytte efte thou takest thie hie flyghte Hecket[65] ynne a myste, and wyth thyne eyne yblente, Nowe commest thou to mee wythe starrie lyghte; 395 Ontoe thie veste the rodde sonne ys adente[66]; The Sommer tyde, the month of Maie appere, Depycte wythe skylledd honde upponn thie wyde aumere.
I from a nete of hopelen am adawed, Awhaped[67] atte the fetyveness of daie; 400 Ælla, bie nete moe thann hys myndbruche awed, Is gone, and I moste followe, toe the fraie. Celmonde canne ne'er from anie byker staie. Dothe warre begynne? there's Celmonde yn the place. Botte whanne the warre ys donne, I'll haste awaie. The reste from nethe tymes masque must shew yttes face. 405 I see onnombered joies arounde mee ryse; Blake[68] stondethe future doome, and joie dothe mee alyse.
O honnoure, honnoure, whatt ys bie thee hanne? Hailie the robber and the bordelyer, 410 Who kens ne thee, or ys to thee bestanne, And nothynge does thie myckle gastness fere. Faygne woulde I from mie bosomme alle thee tare. Thou there dysperpellest[69] thie levynne-bronde; Whylest mie soulgh's forwyned, thou art the gare; 415 Sleene ys mie comforte bie thie ferie honde; As somme talle hylle, whann wynds doe shake the ground, Itte kerveth all abroade, bie brasteynge hyltren wounde.
Honnoure, whatt bee ytte? tys a shadowes shade, A thynge of wychencref, an idle dreme; 420 On of the fonnis whych the clerche have made Menne wydhoute sprytes, and wommen for to fleme; Knyghtes, who efte kenne the loude dynne of the beme, Schulde be forgarde to syke enfeeblynge waies, Make everych acte, alyche theyr soules, be breme, 425 And for theyre chyvalrie alleyne have prayse. O thou, whatteer thie name, Or Zabalus or Queed, Comme, steel mie sable spryte, For fremde[70] and dolefulle dede. 430
MAGNUS, HURRA, _and_ HIE PREESTE, _wyth the_ ARMIE, _neare_ Watchette.
MAGNUS.
Swythe[71] lette the offrendes[72] to the Goddes begynne. To knowe of hem the issue of the fyghte. Potte the blodde-steyned sword and pavyes ynne; Spreade swythyn all arounde the hallie lyghte.
HIE PREESTE _syngeth_.
Yee, who hie yn mokie ayre 435 Delethe seasonnes foule or fayre, Yee, who, whanne yee weere agguylte, The mone yn bloddie gyttelles[73] hylte, Mooved the starres, and dyd unbynde Everyche barriere to the wynde; 440 Whanne the oundynge waves dystreste, Stroven to be overest, Sockeynge yn the spyre-gyrte towne, Swolterynge wole natyones downe, Sendynge dethe, on plagues astrodde, 445 Moovynge lyke the erthys Godde; To mee send your heste dyvyne, Lyghte eletten[74] all myne eyne, Thatt I maie now undevyse All the actyonnes of th'empprize. 450 [_falleth downe and efte rysethe._ Thus sayethe the Goddes; goe, yssue to the playne; Forr there shall meynte of mytte menne bee slayne.
MAGNUS.
Whie, foe there evere was, whanne Magnus foughte. Efte have I treynted noyance throughe the hoaste, Athorowe swerdes, alyche the Queed dystraughte, 455 Have Magnus pressynge wroghte hys foemen loaste. As whanne a tempeste vexethe soare the coaste, The dyngeynge ounde the sandeie stronde doe tare, So dyd I inne the warre the javlynne toste, Full meynte a champyonnes breaste received mie spear. 460 Mie sheelde, lyche sommere morie gronfer droke, Mie lethalle speere, alyche a levyn-mylted oke.
HURRA.