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The Rowley Poems by Thomas Chatterton

Part 2 out of 7

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[Footnote 47: fate.]

[Footnote 48: my only son.]

[Footnote 49: dead.]

[Footnote 50: cottages.]

[Footnote 51: happiness.]

[Footnote 52: monasterys.]

[Footnote 53: only.]

[Footnote 54: holy.]

[Footnote 55: complexion.]


Sprytes[1] of the bleste, the pious Nygelle sed,
Poure owte yer pleasaunce[2] onn mie fadres hedde.

Rycharde of Lyons harte to fyghte is gon,
Uponne the brede[3] sea doe the banners gleme[4];
The amenused[5] nationnes be aston[6], 5
To ken[7] syke[8] large a flete, syke fyne, syke breme[9].
The barkis heafods[10] coupe[11] the lymed[12] streme;
Oundes[13] synkeynge oundes upon the hard ake[14] riese;
The water slughornes[15] wythe a swotye[16] cleme[17]
Conteke[18] the dynnynge[19] ayre, and reche the skies. 10
Sprytes of the bleste, on gouldyn trones[20] astedde[21],
Poure owte yer pleasaunce onn mie fadres hedde.

The gule[22] depeyncted[23] oares from the black tyde,
Decorn[24] wyth fonnes[25] rare, doe shemrynge[26] ryse;
Upswalynge[27] doe heie[28] shewe ynne drierie pryde, 15
Lyche gore-red estells[29] in the eve[30]-merk[31] skyes;
The nome-depeyncted[32] shields, the speres aryse,
Alyche[33] talle roshes on the water syde;
Alenge[34] from bark to bark the bryghte sheene[35] flyes;
Sweft-kerv'd[36] delyghtes doe on the water glyde. 20
Sprites of the bleste, and everich Seyncte ydedde,
Poure owte youre pleasaunce on mie fadres hedde.

The Sarafen lokes owte: he doethe feere,
That Englondes brondeous[37] sonnes do cotte the waie.
Lyke honted bockes, theye reineth[38] here and there, 25
Onknowlachynge[39] inne whatte place to obaie[40].
The banner glesters on the beme of daie;
The mittee[41] crosse Jerusalim ys seene;
Dhereof the syghte yer corrage doe affraie[42],
In balefull[43] dole their faces be ywreene[44]. 30
Sprytes of the bleste, and everich Seyncte ydedde,
Poure owte your pleasaunce on mie fadres hedde.

The bollengers[45] and cottes[45], soe swyfte yn fyghte,
Upon the sydes of everich bark appere;
Foorthe to his offyce lepethe everych knyghte, 35
Eftsoones[46] hys squyer, with hys shielde and spere.
The jynynge shieldes doe shemre and moke glare[47];
The dotheynge oare doe make gemoted[48] dynne;
The reynyng[49] foemen[50], thynckeynge gif[51] to dare,
Boun[52] the merk[53] swerde, theie seche to fraie[54], theie blyn[55].
Sprytes of the bleste, and everyche Seyncte ydedde,
Powre oute yer pleasaunce onn mie fadres hedde.

Now comm the warrynge Sarasyns to fyghte;
Kynge Rycharde, lyche a lyoncel[56] of warre,
Inne sheenynge goulde, lyke feerie[57] gronfers[58], dyghte[59],
Shaketh alofe hys honde, and seene afarre. 45
Syke haveth I espyde a greter starre
Amenge the drybblett[60] ons to sheene fulle bryghte;
Syke sunnys wayne[61] wyth amayl'd[62] beames doe barr
The blaunchie[63] mone or estells[64] to gev lyghte. 50
Sprytes of the bleste, and everich Seyncte ydedde,
Poure owte your pleasaunce on mie fadres hedde.

Distraughte[65] affraie[66], wythe lockes of blodde-red die,
Terroure, emburled[67] yn the thonders rage,
Deathe, lynked to dismaie, dothe ugsomme[68] flie, 55
Enchasynge[69] echone champyonne war to wage.
Speeres bevyle[70] speres; swerdes upon swerdes engage;
Armoure on armoure dynn[71], shielde upon shielde;
Ne dethe of thosandes can the warre assuage,
Botte salleynge nombers sable[72] all the feelde. 60
Sprytes of the bleste, and everych Seyncte ydedde,
Poure owte youre pleasaunce on mie fadres hedde.

The foemen fal arounde; the cross reles[73] hye;
Steyned ynne goere, the harte of warre ys seen;
Kyng Rycharde, thorough everyche trope dothe flie, 65
And beereth meynte[74] of Turkes onto the greene;
Bie hymm the floure of Asies menn ys sleene[75];
The waylynge[76] mone doth fade before hys sonne;
Bie hym hys knyghtes bee formed to actions deene[77],
Doeynge syke marvels[78], strongers be aston[79]. 70
Sprytes of the bleste, and everych Seyncte ydedde,
Poure owte your pleasaunce onn mie fadres hedde.

The fyghte ys wonne; Kynge Rycharde master is;
The Englonde bannerr kisseth the hie ayre;
Full of pure joie the armie is iwys[80], 75
And everych one haveth it onne his bayre[81];
Agayne to Englonde comme, and worschepped there.
Twyghte[82] into lovynge armes, and feasted eft[83];
In everych eyne aredynge nete of wyere[84],
Of all remembrance of past peyne berefte. 80
Sprites of the bleste, and everich Seyncte ydedde,
Syke pleasures powre upon mie fadres hedde.

Syke Nigel sed, whan from the bluie sea
The upswol[85] sayle dyd daunce before his eyne;
Swefte as the withe, hee toe the beeche dyd flee. 85
And founde his fadre steppeynge from the bryne.
Lette thyssen menne, who haveth sprite of loove,
Bethyncke untoe hemselves how mote the meetynge proove.

[Footnote 1: Spirits, souls.]

[Footnote 2: pleasure.]

[Footnote 3: broad.]

[Footnote 4: shine, glimmer.]

[Footnote 5: diminished, lessened.]

[Footnote 6: astonished, confounded.]

[Footnote 7: see, discover, know.]

[Footnote 8: such, so.]

[Footnote 9: strong.]

[Footnote 10: heads.]

[Footnote 11: cut.]

[Footnote 12: glassy, reflecting.]

[Footnote 13: waves, billows.]

[Footnote 14: oak.]

[Footnote 15: a musical instrument, not unlike a hautboy.]

[Footnote 16: sweet.]

[Footnote 17: sound.]

[Footnote 18: confuse, contend with.]

[Footnote 19: sounding.]

[Footnote 20: thrones.]

[Footnote 21: seated.]

[Footnote 22: red.]

[Footnote 23: painted.]

[Footnote 24: carved.]

[Footnote 25: devices.]

[Footnote 26: glimmering.]

[Footnote 27: rising high, swelling up.]

[Footnote 28: they.]

[Footnote 29: a corruption of _estoile_, Fr. a star.]

[Footnote 30: evening.]

[Footnote 31: dark.]

[Footnote 32: rebus'd shields; a herald term, when the charge of the
shield implies the name of the bearer.]

[Footnote 33: like.]

[Footnote 34: along.]

[Footnote 35: shine.]

[Footnote 36: short-lived.]

[Footnote 37: furious.]

[Footnote 38: runneth.]

[Footnote 39: not knowing.]

[Footnote 40: abide.]

[Footnote 41: mighty.]

[Footnote 42: affright.]

[Footnote 43: woeful.]

[Footnote 44: covered.]

[Footnote 45: different kinds of boats.]

[Footnote 46: full soon, presently.]

[Footnote 47: glitter.]

[Footnote 48: united, assembled.]

[Footnote 49: running.]

[Footnote 50: foes.]

[Footnote 51: if.]

[Footnote 52: make ready.]

[Footnote 53: dark.]

[Footnote 54: engage.]

[Footnote 55: cease, stand still.]

[Footnote 56: a young lion.]

[Footnote 57: flaming.]

[Footnote 58: a meteor, from _gron_, a fen, and _fer_, a corruption of
fire; that is, a fire exhaled from a fen.]

[Footnote 59: deckt.]

[Footnote 60: small, insignificant.]

[Footnote 61: carr.]

[Footnote 62: enameled.]

[Footnote 63: white, silver.]

[Footnote 64: stars.]

[Footnote 65: distracting.]

[Footnote 66: affright.]

[Footnote 67: armed.]

[Footnote 68: terribly.]

[Footnote 69: encouraging, heating.]

[Footnote 70: break, a herald term, signifying a spear broken in

[Footnote 71: sounds.]

[Footnote 72: blacken.]

[Footnote 73: waves.]

[Footnote 74: many, great numbers.]

[Footnote 75: slain.]

[Footnote 76: decreasing.]

[Footnote 77: glorious, worthy.]

[Footnote 78: wonders.]

[Footnote 79: astonished.]

[Footnote 80: certainly.]

[Footnote 81: brow.]

[Footnote 82: plucked, pulled.]

[Footnote 83: often.]

[Footnote 84: grief, trouble.]

[Footnote 85: swollen.]


Wouldst thou kenn nature in her better parte?
Goe, serche the logges [1] and bordels[2] of the hynde[3];
Gyff[4] theie have anie, itte ys roughe-made arte,
Inne hem[5] you see the blakied[6] forme of kynde[7].
Haveth your mynde a lycheynge[8] of a mynde? 5
Woulde it kenne everich thynge, as it mote[9] bee?
Woulde ytte here phrase of the vulgar from the hynde,
Withoute wiseegger[10] wordes and knowlache[11] free?
Gyf soe, rede thys, whyche Iche dysporteynge[12] pende;
Gif nete besyde, yttes rhyme maie ytte commende. 10


Botte whether, fayre mayde, do ye goe?
O where do ye bende yer waie?
I wille knowe whether you goe,
I wylle not bee asseled[13] naie.


To Robyn and Nell, all downe in the delle, 15
To hele[14] hem at makeynge of haie.


Syr Rogerre, the parsone, hav hyred mee there,
Comme, comme, lett us tryppe ytte awaie,
We'lle wurke[15] and we'lle synge, and wylle drenche[16] of stronge beer
As longe as the merrie sommers daie. 20


How harde ys mie dome to wurch!
Moke is mie woe.
Dame Agnes, whoe lies ynne the Chyrche
With birlette[17] golde,
Wythe gelten[18] aumeres[19] stronge ontolde, 25
What was shee moe than me, to be soe?


I kenne Syr Roger from afar
Tryppynge over the lea;
Ich ask whie the loverds[20] son
Is moe than mee. 30


The sweltrie[21] sonne dothe hie apace hys wayne[22],
From everich beme a seme[23]; of lyfe doe falle;
Swythyn[24] scille[25] oppe the haie uponne the playne;
Methynckes the cockes begynneth to gre[26] talle.
Thys ys alyche oure doome[27]; the great, the smalle, 35
Mofte withe[28] and bee forwyned[29] by deathis darte.
See! the swote[30] flourette[31] hathe noe swote at alle;
Itte wythe the ranke wede bereth evalle[32] parte.
The cravent[33], warrioure, and the wyse be blente[34],
Alyche to drie awaie wythe those theie dyd bemente[35]. 40


All-a-boon[36], Syr Priest, all-a-boon,
Bye yer preestschype nowe saye unto mee;
Syr Gaufryd the knyghte, who lyvethe harde bie,
Whie shoulde hee than mee
Bee moe greate, 45
Inne honnoure, knyghtehoode and estate?


Attourne[37] thine eyne arounde thys haied mee,
Tentyflie[38] loke arounde the chaper[39] delle[40];
An answere to thie barganette[41] here see,
Thys welked[42] flourette wylle a leson telle: 50
Arist[43] it blew[44], itte florished, and dyd welle,
Lokeynge ascaunce[45] upon the naighboure greene;
Yet with the deigned[46] greene yttes rennome[47] felle,
Eftsoones[48] ytte shronke upon the daie-brente[49] playne,
Didde not yttes loke, whilest ytte there dyd stonde, 55
To croppe ytte in the bodde move somme dred honde.

Syke[50] ys the waie of lyffe; the loverds[51] ente[52]
Mooveth the robber hym therfor to slea[53];
Gyf thou has ethe[54], the shadowe of contente,
Beleive the trothe[55], theres none moe haile[56] yan thee. 60
Thou wurchest[57]; welle, canne thatte a trobble bee?
Slothe moe wulde jade thee than the roughest daie.
Couldest thou the kivercled[58] of soughlys[59] see,
Thou wouldst eftsoones[60] see trothe ynne whatte I saie;
Botte lette me heere thie waie of lyffe, and thenne 65
Heare thou from me the lyffes of odher menne.


I ryse wythe the sonne,
Lyche hym to dryve the wayne[61],
And eere mie wurche is don
I synge a songe or twayne[62]. 70
I followe the plough-tayle,
Wythe a longe jubb[63] of ale.
Botte of the maydens, oh!
Itte lacketh notte to telle;
Syr Preeste mote notte crie woe, 75
Culde hys bull do as welle.
I daunce the beste heiedeygnes[64],
And foile[65] the wysest feygnes[66].
On everych Seynctes hie daie
Wythe the mynstrelle[67] am I seene, 80
All a footeynge it awaie,
Wythe maydens on the greene.
But oh! I wyshe to be moe greate,
In rennome, tenure, and estate.


Has thou ne seene a tree uponne a hylle, 85
Whose unliste[68] braunces[69] rechen far toe fyghte;
Whan fuired[70] unwers[71] doe the heaven fylle,
Itte shaketh deere[72] yn dole[73] and moke affryghte.
Whylest the congeon[74] flowrette abessie[75] dyghte[76],
Stondethe unhurte, unquaced[77] bie the storme: 90
Syke is a picte[78] of lyffe: the manne of myghte
Is tempest-chaft[79], hys woe greate as hys forme,
Thieselfe a flowrette of a small accounte,
Wouldst harder felle the wynde, as hygher thee dydste mounte.

[Footnote 1: lodges, huts.]

[Footnote 2: cottages.]

[Footnote 3: servant, slave, peasant.]

[Footnote 4: if.]

[Footnote 5: a contraction of _them_.]

[Footnote 6: naked, original.]

[Footnote 7: nature.]

[Footnote 8: liking.]

[Footnote 9: might. The sense of this line is, Would you see every
thing in its primaeval state.]

[Footnote 10: wise-egger, a philosopher.]

[Footnote 11: knowledge.]

[Footnote 12: sporting.]

[Footnote 13: answered.]

[Footnote 14: aid, or help.]

[Footnote 15: work.]

[Footnote 16: drink.]

[Footnote 17: a hood, or covering for the back part of the head.]

[Footnote 18: guilded.]

[Footnote 19: borders of gold and silver, on which was laid thin
plates of either metal counterchanged, not unlike the present spangled

[Footnote 20: lord.]

[Footnote 21: sultry.]

[Footnote 22: car.]

[Footnote 23: seed.]

[Footnote 24: quickly, presently.]

[Footnote 25: gather.]

[Footnote 26: grow.]

[Footnote 27: fate.]

[Footnote 28: a contraction of wither.]

[Footnote 29: dried.]

[Footnote 30: sweet.]

[Footnote 31: flower.]

[Footnote 32: equal.]

[Footnote 33: coward.]

[Footnote 34: ceased, dead, no more.]

[Footnote 35: lament.]

[Footnote 36: a manner of asking a favour.]

[Footnote 37: turn.]

[Footnote 38: carefully, with circumspection.]

[Footnote 39: dry, sun-burnt.]

[Footnote 40: valley.]

[Footnote 41: a song, or ballad.]

[Footnote 42: withered.]

[Footnote 43: arisen, or arose.]

[Footnote 44: blossomed.]

[Footnote 45: disdainfully.]

[Footnote 46: disdained.]

[Footnote 47: glory.]

[Footnote 48: quickly.]

[Footnote 49: burnt.]

[Footnote 50: such.]

[Footnote 51: lord's.]

[Footnote 52: a purse or bag.]

[Footnote 53: slay.]

[Footnote 54: ease.]

[Footnote 55: truth.]

[Footnote 56: happy.]

[Footnote 57: workest.]

[Footnote 58: the hidden or secret part of.]

[Footnote 59: souls.]

[Footnote 60: full soon, or presently.]

[Footnote 61: car.]

[Footnote 62: two.]

[Footnote 63: a bottle.]

[Footnote 64: a country dance, still practised in the North.]

[Footnote 65: baffle.]

[Footnote 66: a corruption of _feints_.]

[Footnote 67: a minstrel is a musician.]

[Footnote 68: unbounded.]

[Footnote 69: branches.]

[Footnote 70: furious.]

[Footnote 71: tempests, storms.]

[Footnote 72: dire.]

[Footnote 73: dismay.]

[Footnote 74: dwarf.]

[Footnote 75: humility.]

[Footnote 76: decked.]

[Footnote 77: unhurt.]

[Footnote 78: picture.]

[Footnote 79: tempest-beaten.]


Onne Ruddeborne[1] bank twa pynynge Maydens fate,
Theire teares faste dryppeynge to the waterre cleere;
Echone bementynge[2] for her absente mate,
Who atte Seyncte Albonns shouke the morthynge[3] speare.
The nottebrowne Elinoure to Juga fayre 5
Dydde speke acroole[4], wythe languishment of eyne,
Lyche droppes of pearlie dew, lemed[5] the quyvryng brine.


O gentle Juga! heare mie dernie[6] plainte,
To fyghte for Yorke mie love ys dyghte[7] in stele;
O maie ne sanguen steine the whyte rose peyncte, 10
Maie good Seyncte Cuthberte watche Syrre Roberte wele.
Moke moe thanne deathe in phantasie I feele;
See! see! upon the grounde he bleedynge lies;
Inhild[8] some joice[9] of lyfe or else mie deare love dies.


Systers in sorrowe, on thys daise-ey'd banke, 15
Where melancholych broods, we wyll lamente;
Be wette wythe mornynge dewe and evene danke;
Lyche levynde[10] okes in eche the odher bente,
Or lyche forlettenn[11] halles of merriemente,
Whose gastlie mitches[12] holde the traine of fryghte[13], 20
Where lethale[14] ravens bark, and owlets wake the nyghte.


No moe the miskynette[15] shall wake the morne,
The minstrelle daunce, good cheere, and morryce plaie;
No moe the amblynge palfrie and the horne
Shall from the lessel[16] rouze the foxe awaie; 25
I'll seke the foreste alle the lyve-longe daie;
Alle nete amenge the gravde chyrche[17] glebe wyll goe,
And to the passante Spryghtes lecture[18] mie tale of woe.


Whan mokie[19] cloudis do hange upon the leme
Of leden[20] Moon, ynn sylver mantels dyghte; 30
The tryppeynge Faeries weve the golden dreme
Of Selyness[21], whyche flyethe wythe the nyghte;
Thenne (botte the Seynctes forbydde!) gif to a spryte
Syrr Rychardes forme ys lyped, I'll holde dystraughte
Hys bledeynge claie-colde corse, and die eche daie ynn thoughte. 35


Ah woe bementynge wordes; what wordes can shewe!
Thou limed[22] ryver, on thie linche[23] maie bleede
Champyons, whose bloude wylle wythe thie waterres flowe,
And Rudborne streeme be Rudborne streeme indeede!
Haste, gentle Juga, tryppe ytte oere the meade, 40
To knowe, or wheder we muste waile agayne,
Or wythe oure fallen knyghtes be menged onne the plain.

Soe sayinge, lyke twa levyn-blasted trees,
Or twayne of cloudes that holdeth stormie rayne;
Theie moved gentle oere the dewie mees[24], 45
To where Seyncte Albons holie shrynes remayne.
There dyd theye fynde that bothe their knyghtes were slayne,
Distraughte[25] theie wandered to swollen Rudbornes syde,
Yelled theyre leathalle knelle, sonke ynn the waves, and dyde.

[Footnote 1: Rudborne (in Saxon, red-water), a River near Saint
Albans, famous for the battles there fought between the Houses of
Lancaster and York.]

[Footnote 2: lamenting.]

[Footnote 3: murdering.]

[Footnote 4: faintly.]

[Footnote 5: glistened.]

[Footnote 6: sad complaint.]

[Footnote 7: arrayed, or cased.]

[Footnote 8: infuse.]

[Footnote 9: juice.]

[Footnote 10: blasted.]

[Footnote 11: forsaken.]

[Footnote 12: ruins.]

[Footnote 13: fear.]

[Footnote 14: deadly or deathboding.]

[Footnote 15: a small bagpipe.]

[Footnote 16: in a confined sense, a bush or hedge, though sometimes
used as a forest.]

[Footnote 17: church-yard.]

[Footnote 18: relate.]

[Footnote 19: black.]

[Footnote 20: decreasing.]

[Footnote 21: happiness.]

[Footnote 22: glassy.]

[Footnote 23: bank.]

[Footnote 24: meeds.]

[Footnote 25: distracted.]


[Sent with the following _Songe to AElla._]

Well thanne, goode Johne, sythe ytt must needes be soe,
Thatt thou & I a bowtynge matche must have,
Lette ytt ne breakynge of oulde friendshyppe bee,
Thys ys the onelie all-a-boone I crave.

Rememberr Stowe, the Bryghtstowe Carmalyte, 5
Who whanne Johne Clarkynge, one of myckle lore,
Dydd throwe hys gauntlette-penne, wyth hym to fyghte,
Hee showd smalle wytte, and showd hys weaknesse more.

Thys ys mie formance, whyche I nowe have wrytte,
The best performance of mie lyttel wytte. 10


Oh thou, orr what remaynes of thee,
AElla, the darlynge of futurity,
Lett thys mie songe bolde as thie courage be,
As everlastynge to posteritye.

Whanne Dacya's sonnes, whose hayres of bloude-redde hue 5
Lyche kynge-cuppes brastynge wythe the morning due,
Arraung'd ynne dreare arraie,
Upponne the lethale daie,
Spredde farre and wyde onne Watchets shore;
Than dyddst thou furiouse stande, 10
And bie thie valyante hande
Beesprengedd all the mees wythe gore.

Drawne bie thyne anlace felle,
Downe to the depthe of helle
Thousandes of Dacyanns went; 15
Brystowannes, menne of myghte,
Ydar'd the bloudie fyghte,
And actedd deeds full quent.

Oh thou, whereer (thie bones att reste)
Thye Spryte to haunte delyghteth beste, 20
Whetherr upponne the bloude-embrewedd pleyne,
Orr whare thou kennst fromm farre
The dysmall crye of warre,
Orr seest somme mountayne made of corse of sleyne;
Orr seest the hatchedd stede, 25
Ypraunceynge o'er the mede,
And neighe to be amenged the poynctedd speeres;
Orr ynne blacke armoure staulke arounde
Embattel'd Brystowe, once thie grounde,
And glowe ardurous onn the Castle steeres; 30

Orr fierye round the mynsterr glare;
Lette Brystowe stylle be made thie care;
Guarde ytt fromme foemenne & consumynge fyre;
Lyche Avones streme ensyrke ytte rounde,
Ne lette a flame enharme the grounde, 35
Tylle ynne one flame all the whole worlde expyre.

The underwritten Lines were composed by JOHN LADGATE, a Priest in
London, and sent to ROWLIE, as an Answer to the preceding _Songe of

Havynge wythe mouche attentyonn redde
Whatt you dydd to mee sende,
Admyre the varses mouche I dydd,
And thus an answerr lende.

Amongs the Greeces Homer was 5
A Poett mouche renownde,
Amongs the Latyns Vyrgilius
Was beste of Poets founde.

The Brytish Merlyn oftenne hanne
The gyfte of inspyration, 10
And Afled to the Sexonne menne
Dydd synge wythe elocation.

Ynne Norman tymes, Turgotus and
Goode Chaucer dydd excelle,
Thenn Stowe, the Bryghtstowe Carmelyte, 15
Dydd bare awaie the belle.

Nowe Rowlie ynne these mokie dayes
Lendes owte hys sheenynge lyghtes,
And Turgotus and Chaucer lyves
Ynne ev'ry lyne he wrytes. 20




The Tournament begynnes; the hammerrs sounde;
The courserrs lysse[1] about the mensuredd[2] fielde;
The shemrynge armoure throws the sheene arounde;
Quayntyssed[3] fons[4] depictedd[5] onn eche sheelde.
The feerie[6] heaulmets, wythe the wreathes amielde[7], 5
Supportes the rampynge lyoncell[8] orr beare,
Wythe straunge depyctures[9], Nature maie nott yeelde,
Unseemelie to all orderr doe appere,
Yett yatte[10] to menne, who thyncke and have a spryte[11],
Makes knowen thatt the phantasies unryghte. 10

I, Sonne of Honnoure, spencer[11] of her joies,
Muste swythen[12] goe to yeve[13] the speeres arounde,
Wythe advantayle[14] & borne[15] I meynte[16] emploie,
Who withoute mee woulde fall untoe the grounde.
Soe the tall oake the ivie twysteth rounde; 15
Soe the neshe[17] flowerr grees[18] ynne the woodeland shade.
The worlde bie diffraunce ys ynne orderr founde;
Wydhoute unlikenesse nothynge could bee made.
As ynn the bowke[19] nete[20] alleyn[21] cann bee donne,
Syke[22] ynn the weal of kynde all thynges are partes of onne. 20


Herawde[23], bie heavenne these tylterrs staie too long.
Mie phantasie ys dyinge forr the fyghte.
The mynstrelles have begonne the thyrde warr songe,
Yett notte a speere of hemm[24] hath grete mie syghte.
I feere there be ne manne wordhie mie myghte. 25
I lacke a Guid[25], a Wyllyamm[26] to entylte.
To reine[27] anente[28] a fele[29] embodiedd knyghte,
Ytt gettes ne rennome[30] gyff hys blodde bee spylte.
Bie heavenne & Marie ytt ys tyme they're here;
I lyche nott unthylle[31] thus to wielde the speare. 30


Methynckes I heare yer slugghornes[32] dynn[33] fromm farre.


Ah! swythenn[34] mie shielde & tyltynge launce bee bounde [35].
Eftsoones[36] beheste[37] mie Squyerr to the warre.
I flie before to clayme a challenge grownde.
[_Goeth oute_.


Thie valourous actes woulde meinte[38] of menne astounde;
Harde bee yer shappe[39] encontrynge thee ynn fyghte;
Anenst[40] all menne thou bereft to the grounde,
Lyche the hard hayle dothe the tall roshes pyghte[41].
As whanne the mornynge sonne ydronks the dew,
Syche dothe thie valourous actes drocke[42] eche knyghte's hue. 40



The barganette[44]; yee mynstrelles tune the strynge,
Somme actyonn dyre of auntyante kynges now synge.


Wyllyamm, the Normannes floure botte Englondes thorne,
The manne whose myghte delievretie[45] hadd knite[46],
Snett[46] oppe hys long strunge bowe and sheelde aborne[47], 45
Behesteynge[48] all hys hommageres[49] to fyghte.
Goe, rouze the lyonn fromm hys hylted[50] denne,
Lett thie floes[51] drenche the blodde of anie thynge bott menne.

Ynn the treed forreste doe the knyghtes appere;
Wyllyamm wythe myghte hys bowe enyronn'd[52] plies[53]; 50
Loude dynns[54] the arrowe ynn the wolfynn's eare;
Hee ryseth battent[55] roares, he panctes, hee dyes.
Forslagenn att thie feete lett wolvynns bee,
Lett thie floes drenche theyre blodde, bott do ne bredrenn flea.

Throwe the merke[56] shade of twistynde trees hee rydes; 55
The flemed[57] owlett[58] flapps herr eve-speckte[59] wynge;
The lordynge[60] toade ynn all hys passes bides;
The berten[61] neders[62] att hymm darte the stynge;
Styll, stylle, hee passes onn, hys stede astrodde,
Nee hedes the daungerous waie gyff leadynge untoe bloodde. 60

The lyoncel, fromme sweltrie[63] countries braughte,
Coucheynge binethe the sheltre of the brierr,
Att commyng dynn[64] doth rayse hymselfe distraughte[65],
He loketh wythe an eie of flames of fyre.
Goe, sticke the lyonn to hys hyltren denne. 65
Lette thie floes[66] drenche the blood of anie thynge botte menn.

Wythe passent[67] steppe the lyonn mov'th alonge;
Wyllyamm hys ironne-woven bowe hee bendes,
Wythe myghte alyche the roghlynge[68] thonderr stronge;
The lyonn ynn a roare hys spryte foorthe sendes. 70
Goe, slea the lyonn ynn hys blodde-steyn'd denne,
Botte bee thie takelle[69] drie fromm blodde of odherr menne.

Swefte fromm the thyckett starks the stagge awaie;
The couraciers[70] as swefte doe afterr flie.
Hee lepethe hie, hee stondes, hee kepes att baie, 75
Botte metes the arrowe, and eftsoones[71] doth die.
Forslagenn atte thie fote lette wylde beastes bee,
Lett thie floes drenche yer blodde, yett do ne bredrenn slee.

Wythe murtherr tyredd, hee sleynges hys bowe alyne[72].
The stagge ys ouch'd[73] wythe crownes of lillie flowerrs. 80
Arounde theire heaulmes theie greene verte doe entwyne;
Joying and rev'lous ynn the grene wode bowerrs.
Forslagenn wyth thie floe lette wylde beastes bee,
Feeste thee upponne theire fleshe, doe ne thie bredrenn flee.


Nowe to the Tourneie[74]; who wylle fyrste affraie[75]? 85


Nevylle, a baronne, bee yatte[76] honnoure thyne.


I clayme the passage.


I contake[77] thie waie.


Thenn there's mie gauntlette[78] onn mie gaberdyne[79].


A leegefull[80] challenge, knyghtes & champyonns dygne[81],
A leegefull challenge, lette the flugghorne sounde. 90
[Syrr Symonne _and_ Nevylle _tylte_.
Nevylle ys goeynge, manne and horse, toe grounde.
[Nevylle _falls_.
Loverdes, how doughtilie[82] the tylterrs joyne!
Yee champyonnes, heere Symonne de Bourtonne fyghtes,
Onne hee hathe quacedd[83], assayle[84] hymm, yee knyghtes.


I wylle anente[85] hymm goe; mie squierr, mie shielde; 95
Orr onne orr odherr wyll doe myckle[86] scethe[87]
Before I doe departe the lissedd[88] fielde,
Mieselfe orr Bourtonne hereupponn wyll blethe[89].
Mie shielde.


Comme onne, & fitte thie tylte-launce ethe[90].
Whanne Bourtonn fyghtes, hee metes a doughtie foe. 100
[_Theie tylte_. Ferraris _falleth_.
Hee falleth; nowe bie heavenne thie woundes doe smethe[91];
I feere mee, I have wroughte thee myckle woe[92].


Bourtonne hys seconde beereth to the feelde.
Comme onn, yee knyghtes, and wynn the honnour'd sheeld.


I take the challenge; squyre, mie launce and stede. 105
I, Bourtonne, take the gauntlette; forr mee staie.
Botte, gyff thou fyghteste mee, thou shalt have mede[93];
Somme odherr I wylle champyonn toe affraie[94];
Perchaunce fromme hemm I maie possess the daie,
Thenn I schalle bee a foemanne forr thie spere. 110
Herehawde, toe the bankes of Knyghtys saie,
De Berghamme wayteth forr a foemann heere.


Botte longe thou schalte ne tend[95]; I doe thee fie[96].
Lyche forreying[97] levynn[98], schalle mie tylte-launce flie.
[Berghamme & Clinton _tylte_. Clinton _fallethe_.

Nowe, nowe, Syrr Knyghte, attoure[99] thie beeveredd[100] eyne.
I have borne downe, and este[101] doe gauntlette thee.
Swythenne[102] begynne, and wrynn[103] thie shappe[104] orr myne;
Gyff thou dyscomfytte, ytt wylle dobblie bee.
[Bourtonne & Burghamm _tylteth_. Berghamme _falls_.


Symonne de Bourtonne haveth borne downe three,
And bie the thyrd hathe honnoure of a fourthe. 120
Lett hymm bee sett asyde, tylle hee doth see
A tyltynge forr a knyghte of gentle wourthe.
Heere commethe straunge knyghtes; gyff corteous[105] heie[106],
Ytt welle beseies[107] to yeve[108] hemm ryghte of fraie[109].


Straungerrs wee bee, and homblie doe wee clayme 125
The rennome[110] ynn thys Tourneie[111] forr to tylte;
Dherbie to proove fromm cravents[112] owre goode name,
Bewrynnynge[113] thatt wee gentile blodde have spylte.


Yee knyghtes of cortesie, these straungerrs, saie,
Bee you fulle wyllynge forr to yeve hemm fraie? 130
[_Fyve Knyghtes tylteth wythe the straunge Knyghte, and bee
everichone[114] overthrowne._


Nowe bie Seyncte Marie, gyff onn all the fielde
Ycrasedd[115] speres and helmetts bee besprente[116],
Gyff everyche knyghte dydd houlde a piercedd[117] sheeld,
Gyff all the feelde wythe champyonne blodde bee stente[118],
Yett toe encounterr hymm I bee contente. 135
Annodherr launce, Marshalle, anodherr launce.
Albeytte hee wythe lowes[119] of fyre ybrente[120],
Yett Bourtonne woulde agenste hys val[121] advance.
Fyve haveth fallenn downe anethe[122] hys speere,
Botte hee schalle bee the next thatt falleth heere. 140

Bie thee, Seyncte Marie, and thy Sonne I sweare,
Thatt ynn whatte place yonn doughtie knyghte shall fall
Anethe[123] the stronge push of mie straught[124] out speere,
There schalle aryse a hallie[125] chyrches walle,
The whyche, ynn honnoure, I wylle Marye calle, 145
Wythe pillars large, and spyre full hyghe and rounde.
And thys I faifullie[126] wylle stonde to all,
Gyff yonderr straungerr falleth to the grounde.
Straungerr, bee boune[127]; I champyonn[128] you to warre.
Sounde, sounde the flughornes, to bee hearde fromm farre. 150
[Bourtonne & _the_ Straungerr _tylt_. Straunger _falleth_.


The Mornynge Tyltes now cease.


Bourtonne ys kynge.
Dysplaie the Englyshe bannorre onn the tente;
Rounde hymm, yee mynstrelles, songs of achments[129] synge;
Yee Herawdes, getherr upp the speeres besprente[130];
To Kynge of Tourney-tylte bee all knees bente. 155
Dames faire and gentle, forr youre loves hee foughte;
Forr you the longe tylte-launce, the swerde hee shente[131];
Hee joustedd, alleine[132] havynge you ynn thoughte.
Comme, mynstrelles, sound the strynge, goe onn eche syde,
Whylest hee untoe the Kynge ynn state doe ryde. 160


Whann Battayle, smethynge[133] wythe new quickenn'd gore,
Bendynge wythe spoiles, and bloddie droppynge hedde,
Dydd the merke[134] woode of ethe[135] and rest explore,
Seekeynge to lie onn Pleasures downie bedde,
Pleasure, dauncyng fromm her wode, 165
Wreathedd wythe floures of aiglintine,
Fromm hys vysage washedd the bloude,
Hylte[136] hys swerde and gaberdyne.

Wythe syke an eyne shee swotelie[137] hymm dydd view,
Dydd foe ycorvenn[138] everrie shape to joie, 170
Hys spryte dydd chaunge untoe anodherr hue,
Hys armes, ne spoyles, mote anie thoughts emploie.
All delyghtsomme and contente,
Fyre enshotynge[139] fromm hys eyne,
Ynn hys arms hee dydd herr hente[140], 175
Lyche the merk[141]-plante doe entwyne.
Soe, gyff thou lovest Pleasure and herr trayne,
Onknowlachynge[142] ynn whatt place herr to fynde,
Thys rule yspende[143], and ynn thie mynde retayne;
Seeke Honnoure fyrste, and Pleasaunce lies behynde. 180

[Footnote 1: sport, or play.]

[Footnote 2: bounded, or measured.]

[Footnote 3: curiously devised.]

[Footnote 4: fancys or devices.]

[Footnote 5: painted, or displayed.]

[Footnote 6: fiery.]

[Footnote 7: ornamented, enameled.]

[Footnote 8: a young lion.]

[Footnote 9: drawings, paintings.]

[Footnote 10: that.]

[Footnote 11: soul.]

[Footnote 11: dispenser.]

[Footnote 12: quickly.]

[Footnote 13: give.]

[Footnote 14: armer.]

[Footnote 15: burnish.]

[Footnote 16: many.]

[Footnote 17: young, weak, tender.]

[Footnote 18: grows.]

[Footnote 19: body.]

[Footnote 20: nothing.]

[Footnote 21: alone.]

[Footnote 22: so.]

[Footnote 23: herald.]

[Footnote 24: a contraction of _them_.]

[Footnote 25: _Guie de Sancto Egidio_, the most famous tilter of his

[Footnote 26: William Rufus.]

[Footnote 27: run.]

[Footnote 28: against.]

[Footnote 29: feeble.]

[Footnote 30: honour, glory.]

[Footnote 31: useless.]

[Footnote 32: a kind of claryon.]

[Footnote 33: sound.]

[Footnote 34: quickly.]

[Footnote 35: ready.]

[Footnote 36: soon.]

[Footnote 37: command.]

[Footnote 38: most.]

[Footnote 39: fate, or doom.]

[Footnote 40: against.]

[Footnote 41: pitched, or bent down.]

[Footnote 42: drink.]

[Footnote 43: servants, attendants.]

[Footnote 44: song, or ballad.]

[Footnote 45: activity.]

[Footnote 46: joined (_1842; left blank in 1777 and 1778_)]

[Footnote 46: bent.]

[Footnote 47: burnished.]

[Footnote 48: commanding.]

[Footnote 49: servants.]

[Footnote 50: hidden.]

[Footnote 51: arrows.]

[Footnote 52: worked with iron.]

[Footnote 53: bends.]

[Footnote 54: sounds.]

[Footnote 55: loudly.]

[Footnote 56: dark, or gloome.]

[Footnote 57 & 58: frighted owl.]

[Footnote 59: marked with evening dew.]

[Footnote 60: standing on their hind legs.]

[Footnote 61: venemous.]

[Footnote 62: adders.]

[Footnote 63: hot, sultry.]

[Footnote 64: sound, noise.]

[Footnote 65: distracted.]

[Footnote 66: arrows.]

[Footnote 67: walking leisurely.]

[Footnote 68: rolling.]

[Footnote 69: arrow.]

[Footnote 70: horse coursers.]

[Footnote 71: full soon.]

[Footnote 72: across his shoulders.]

[Footnote 73: garlands of flowers being put round the neck of the
game, it was said to be _ouch'd_, from _ouch_, a chain, worn by earls
round their necks.]

[Footnote 74: Turnament.]

[Footnote 75: fight, or encounter.]

[Footnote 76: that.]

[Footnote 77: dispute.]

[Footnote 78: glove.]

[Footnote 79: a piece of armour.]

[Footnote 80: lawful.]

[Footnote 81: worthy.]

[Footnote 82: furiously.]

[Footnote 83: vanquished.]

[Footnote 84: oppose.]

[Footnote 85: against.]

[Footnote 86: much.]

[Footnote 87: damage, mischief.]

[Footnote 88: bounded.]

[Footnote 89: bleed.]

[Footnote 90: easy.]

[Footnote 91: smoke.]

[Footnote 92: hurt, or damage.]

[Footnote 93: reward.]

[Footnote 94: fight or engage.]

[Footnote 95: attend or wait.]

[Footnote 96: defy.]

[Footnote 97 & 98: destroying lightening.]

[Footnote 99: turn.]

[Footnote 100: beaver'd.]

[Footnote 101: again.]

[Footnote 102: quickly.]

[Footnote 103: declare.]

[Footnote 104: fate.]

[Footnote 105: worthy.]

[Footnote 106: they.]

[Footnote 107: becomes.]

[Footnote 108: give.]

[Footnote 109: fyght.]

[Footnote 110: honour.]

[Footnote 111: Tournament.]

[Footnote 112: cowards.]

[Footnote 113: declaring.]

[Footnote 114: every one.]

[Footnote 115: broken, split.]

[Footnote 116: scatter'd.]

[Footnote 117: broken, or pierced through with darts.]

[Footnote 118: stained.]

[Footnote 119: flames.]

[Footnote 120: burnt.]

[Footnote 121: healm.]

[Footnote 122: beneath.]

[Footnote 123: against.]

[Footnote 124: stretched out.]

[Footnote 125: holy.]

[Footnote 126: faithfully.]

[Footnote 127: ready.]

[Footnote 128: challenge.]

[Footnote 129: atchievements, glorious actions.]

[Footnote 130: broken spears.]

[Footnote 131: broke, destroyed.]

[Footnote 132: only, alone.]

[Footnote 133: smoaking, steaming.]

[Footnote 134: dark, gloomy.]

[Footnote 135: ease.]

[Footnote 136: hid, secreted.]

[Footnote 137: sweetly.]

[Footnote 138: moulded.]

[Footnote 139: shooting, darting.]

[Footnote 140: grasp, hold.]

[Footnote 141: night-shade.]

[Footnote 142: ignorant, unknowing.]

[Footnote 143: consider.]




The featherd songster chaunticleer
Han wounde hys bugle horne,
And tolde the earlie villager
The commynge of the morne:

Kynge EDWARDE sawe the ruddie streakes 5
Of lyghte eclypse the greie;
And herde the raven's crokynge throte
Proclayme the fated daie.

"Thou'rt ryght," quod hee, "for, by the Godde
That syttes enthron'd on hyghe! 10
CHARLES BAWDIN, and hys fellowes twaine,
To-daie shall surelie die."

Thenne wythe a jugge of nappy ale
Hys Knyghtes dydd onne hymm waite;
"Goe tell the traytour, thatt to-daie 15
Hee leaves thys mortall state."

Syr CANTERLOUE thenne bendedd lowe,
Wythe harte brymm-fulle of woe;
Hee journey'd to the castle-gate,
And to Syr CHARLES dydd goe. 20

Butt whenne hee came, hys children twaine,
And eke hys lovynge wyfe,
Wythe brinie tears dydd wett the floore,
For goode Syr CHARLESES lyfe.

"O goode Syr CHARLES!" sayd CANTERLOUE, 25
"Badde tydyngs I doe brynge."
"Speke boldlie, manne," sayd brave Syr CHARLES,
"Whatte says thie traytor kynge?"

"I greeve to telle, before yonne sonne
Does fromme the welkinn flye, 30
Hee hath uponne hys honour sworne,
Thatt thou shalt surelie die."

"Wee all must die," quod brave Syr CHARLES;
"Of thatte I'm not affearde;
Whatte bootes to lyve a little space? 35
Thanke JESU, I'm prepar'd."

"Butt telle thye kynge, for myne hee's not,
I'de sooner die to-daie
Thanne lyve hys slave, as manie are,
Tho' I shoulde lyve for aie." 40

Thenne CANTERLOUE hee dydd goe out,
To telle the maior straite
To gett all thynges ynne reddyness
For goode Syr CHARLESES fate.

Thenne Maisterr CANYNGE saughte the kynge, 45
And felle down onne hys knee;
"I'm come," quod hee, "unto your grace
To move your clemencye."

Thenne quod the kynge, "Youre tale speke out,
You have been much oure friende; 50
Whatever youre request may bee,
Wee wylle to ytte attende."

"My nobile leige! alle my request
Ys for a nobile knyghte,
Who, tho' may hap hee has donne wronge, 55
He thoghte ytte stylle was ryghte."

"Hee has a spouse and children twaine,
Alle rewyn'd are for aie;
Yff thatt you are resolv'd to lett
CHARLES BAWDIN die to-daie." 60

"Speke nott of such a traytour vile,"
The kynge ynne furie sayde;
"Before the evening starre doth sheene,
BAWDIN shall loose hys hedde."

"Justice does loudlie for hym calle, 65
And hee shalle have hys meede:
Speke, Maister CANYNGE! Whatte thynge else
Att present doe you neede?"

"My nobile leige!" goode CANYNGE sayde,
"Leave justice to our Godde, 70
And laye the yronne rule asyde;
Be thyne the olyve rodde."

"Was Godde to serche our hertes and reines,
The best were synners grete;
CHRIST'S vycarr only knowes ne synne, 75
Ynne alle thys mortall state."

"Lett mercie rule thyne infante reigne,
'Twylle faste thye crowne fulle sure;
From race to race thy familie
Alle sov'reigns shall endure." 80

"But yff wythe bloode and slaughter thou
Beginne thy infante reigne,
Thy crowne uponne thy childrennes brows
Wylle never long remayne."

"CANYNGE, awaie! thys traytour vile 85
Has scorn'd my power and mee;
Howe canst thou thenne for such a manne
Intreate my clemencye?"

"My nobile leige! the trulie brave
Wylle val'rous actions prize, 90
Respect a brave and nobile mynde,
Altho' ynne enemies."

"CANYNGE, awaie! By Godde ynne Heav'n
Thatt dydd mee beinge gyve,
I wylle nott taste a bitt of breade 95
Whilst thys Syr CHARLES dothe lyve."

"By MARIE, and alle Seinctes ynne Heav'n,
Thys sunne shall be hys laste."
Thenne CANYNGE dropt a brinie teare,
And from the presence paste. 100

Wyth herte brymm-fulle of gnawynge grief,
Hee to Syr CHARLES dydd goe,
And satt hymm downe uponne a stoole,
And teares beganne to flowe.

"Wee all must die," quod brave Syr CHARLES; 105
"Whatte bootes ytte howe or whenne;
Dethe ys the sure, the certaine fate
Of all wee mortall menne.

"Saye why, my friend, thie honest soul
Runns overr att thyne eye; 110
Is ytte for my most welcome doome
Thatt thou dost child-lyke crye?"

Quod godlie CANYNGE, "I doe weepe,
Thatt thou so soone must dye,
And leave thy sonnes and helpless wyfe; 115
'Tys thys thatt wettes myne eye."

"Thenne drie the tears thatt out thyne eye
From godlie fountaines sprynge;
Dethe I despise, and alle the power
Of EDWARDE, traytor kynge. 120

"Whan throgh the tyrant's welcom means
I shall resigne my lyfe,
The Godde I serve wylle soone provyde
For bothe mye sonnes and wyfe.

"Before I sawe the lyghtsome sunne, 125
Thys was appointed mee;
Shall mortal manne repyne or grudge
Whatt Godde ordeynes to bee?

"Howe oft ynne battaile have I stoode,
Whan thousands dy'd arounde; 130
Whan smokynge streemes of crimson bloode
Imbrew'd the fatten'd grounde:

"How dydd I knowe thatt ev'ry darte,
Thatt cutte the airie waie,
Myghte nott fynde passage toe my harte, 135
And close myne eyes for aie?

"And shall I nowe, forr feere of dethe,
Looke wanne and bee dysmayde?
Ne! fromm my herte flie childyshe feere,
Bee alle the manne display'd. 140

"Ah, goddelyke HENRIE! Godde forefende,
And guarde thee and thye sonne,
Yff 'tis hys wylle; but yff 'tis nott,
Why thenne hys wylle bee donne.

"My honest friende, my faulte has beene 145
To serve Godde and mye prynce;
And thatt I no tyme-server am,
My dethe wylle soone convynce.

"Ynne Londonne citye was I borne,
Of parents of grete note; 150
My fadre dydd a nobile armes
Emblazon onne hys cote:

"I make ne doubte butt hee ys gone
Where soone I hope to goe;
Where wee for ever shall bee blest, 155
From oute the reech of woe:

"Hee taughte mee justice and the laws
Wyth pitie to unite;
And eke hee taughte mee howe to knowe
The wronge cause fromm the ryghte: 160

"Hee taughte mee wythe a prudent hande
To feede the hungrie poore,
Ne lett mye sarvants dryve awaie
The hungrie fromme my doore:

"And none can saye, butt alle mye lyfe 165
I have hys wordyes kept;
And summ'd the actyonns of the daie
Eche nyghte before I slept.

"I have a spouse, goe aske of her,
Yff I defyl'd her bedde? 170
I have a kynge, and none can laie
Blacke treason onne my hedde.

"Ynne Lent, and onne the holie eve,
Fromm fleshe I dydd refrayne;
Whie should I thenne appeare dismay'd 175
To leave thys worlde of payne?

"Ne! hapless HENRIE! I rejoyce,
I shalle ne see thye dethe;
Moste willynglie ynne thye just cause
Doe I resign my brethe. 180

"Oh, fickle people! rewyn'd londe!
Thou wylt kenne peace ne moe;
Whyle RICHARD'S sonnes exalt themselves,
Thye brookes wythe bloude wylle flowe.

"Saie, were ye tyr'd of godlie peace, 185
And godlie HENRIE'S reigne,
Thatt you dydd choppe youre easie daies
For those of bloude and peyne?

"Whatte tho' I onne a sledde bee drawne,
And mangled by a hynde, 190
I doe defye the traytor's pow'r,
Hee can ne harm my mynde;

"Whatte tho', uphoisted onne a pole,
Mye lymbes shall rotte ynne ayre,
And ne ryche monument of brasse 195
CHARLES BAWDIN'S name shall bear;

"Yett ynne the holie booke above,
Whyche tyme can't eate awaie,
There wythe the sarvants of the Lorde
Mye name shall lyve for aie. 200

"Thenne welcome dethe! for lyfe eterne
I leave thys mortall lyfe:
Farewell, vayne worlde, and alle that's deare,
Mye sonnes and lovynge wyfe!

"Nowe dethe as welcome to mee comes, 205
As e'er the moneth of Maie;
Nor woulde I even wyshe to lyve,
Wyth my dere wyfe to staie."

Quod CANYNGE, "'Tys a goodlie thynge
To bee prepar'd to die; 210
And from thys world of peyne and grefe
To Godde ynne Heav'n to flie."

And nowe the bell beganne to tolle,
And claryonnes to sounde;
Syr CHARLES hee herde the horses feete 215
A prauncyng onne the grounde:

And just before the officers,
His lovynge wyfe came ynne,
Weepynge unfeigned teeres of woe,
Wythe loude and dysmalle dynne. 220

"Sweet FLORENCE! nowe I praie forbere,
Ynne quiet lett mee die;
Praie Godde, thatt ev'ry Christian soule
Maye looke onne dethe as I.

"Sweet FLORENCE! why these brinie teeres? 225
Theye washe my soule awaie,
And almost make mee wyshe for lyfe,
Wyth thee, sweete dame, to staie.

"'Tys butt a journie I shalle goe
Untoe the lande of blysse; 230
Nowe, as a proofe of husbande's love,
Receive thys holie kysse."

Thenne FLORENCE, fault'ring ynne her saie,
Tremblynge these wordyes spoke,
"Ah, cruele EDWARDE! bloudie kynge! 235
My herte ys welle nyghe broke:

"Ah, sweete Syr CHARLES! why wylt thou goe,
Wythoute thye lovynge wyfe?
The cruelle axe thatt cuttes thye necke,
Ytte eke shall ende mye lyfe." 240

And nowe the officers came ynne
To brynge Syr CHARLES awaie,
Whoe turnedd toe his lovynge wyfe,
And thus toe her dydd saie:

"I goe to lyfe, and nott to dethe; 245
Truste thou ynne Godde above,
And teache thye sonnes to feare the Lorde,
And ynne theyre hertes hym love:

"Teache them to runne the nobile race
Thatt I theyre fader runne: 250
FLORENCE! shou'd dethe thee take--adieu!
Yee officers, leade onne."

Thenne FLORENCE rav'd as anie madde,
And dydd her tresses tere;
"Oh! staie, mye husbande! lorde! and lyfe!"-- 255
Syr CHARLES thenne dropt a teare.

'Tyll tyredd oute wythe ravynge loud,
Shee fellen onne the flore;
Syr CHARLES exerted alle hys myghte,
And march'd fromm oute the dore. 260

Uponne a sledde hee mounted thenne,
Wythe lookes fulle brave and swete;
Lookes, thatt enshone ne moe concern
Thanne anie ynne the strete.

Before hym went the council-menne, 265
Ynne scarlett robes and golde,
And tassils spanglynge ynne the sunne,
Muche glorious to beholde:

The Freers of Seincte AUGUSTYNE next
Appeared to the syghte, 270
Alle cladd ynne homelie russett weedes,
Of godlie monkysh plyghte:

Ynne diffraunt partes a godlie psaume
Moste sweetlie theye dydd chaunt;
Behynde theyre backes syx mynstrelles came, 275
Who tun'd the strunge bataunt.

Thenne fyve-and-twentye archers came;
Echone the bowe dydd bende,
From rescue of kynge HENRIES friends
Syr CHARLES forr to defend. 280

Bolde as a lyon came Syr CHARLES,
Drawne onne a clothe-layde sledde,
Bye two blacke stedes ynne trappynges white,
Wyth plumes uponne theyre hedde:

Behynde hym fyve-and-twentye moe 285
Of archers stronge and stoute,
Wyth bended bowe echone ynne hande,
Marched ynne goodlie route:

Seincte JAMESES Freers marched next,
Echone hys parte dydd chaunt; 290
Behynde theyre backs syx mynstrelles came,
Who tun'd the strunge bataunt:

Thenne came the maior and eldermenne,
Ynne clothe of scarlett deck't;
And theyre attendyng menne echone, 295
Lyke Easterne princes trickt:

And after them, a multitude
Of citizenns dydd thronge;
The wyndowes were alle fulle of heddes,
As hee dydd passe alonge. 300

And whenne hee came to the hyghe crosse,
Syr CHARLES dydd turne and saie,
"O Thou, thatt savest manne fromme synne,
Washe mye soule clean thys daie!"

Att the grete mynsterr wyndowe sat 305
The kynge ynne myckle state,
To see CHARLES BAWDIN goe alonge
To hys most welcom fate.

Soone as the sledde drewe nyghe enowe,
Thatt EDWARDE hee myghte heare, 310
The brave Syr CHARLES hee dydd stande uppe,
And thus hys wordes declare:

"Thou seest mee, EDWARDE! traytour vile!
Expos'd to infamie;
Butt bee assur'd, disloyall manne! 315
I'm greaterr nowe thanne thee.

"Bye foule proceedyngs, murdre, bloude,
Thou wearest nowe a crowne;
And hast appoynted mee to dye,
By power nott thyne owne. 320

"Thou thynkest I shall dye to-daie;
I have beene dede 'till nowe,
And soone shall lyve to weare a crowne
For aie uponne my browe:

"Whylst thou, perhapps, for som few yeares, 325
Shalt rule thys fickle lande,
To lett them knowe howe wyde the rule
'Twixt kynge and tyrant hande:

"Thye pow'r unjust, thou traytour slave!
Shall falle onne thye owne hedde"-- 330
Fromm out of hearyng of the kynge
Departed thenne the sledde.

Kynge EDWARDE'S soule rush'd to hys face,
Hee turn'd hys hedde awaie,
And to hys broder GLOUCESTER 335
Hee thus dydd speke and saie:

"To hym that soe-much-dreaded dethe
Ne ghastlie terrors brynge,
Beholde the manne! hee spake the truthe,
Hee's greater thanne a kynge!" 340

"Soe lett hym die!" Duke RICHARD sayde;
"And maye echone oure foes
Bende downe theyre neckes to bloudie axe,
And feede the carryon crowes."

And nowe the horses gentlie drewe 345
Syr CHARLES uppe the hyghe hylle;
The axe dydd glysterr ynne the sunne,
Hys pretious bloude to spylle.

Syrr CHARLES dydd uppe the scaffold goe,
As uppe a gilded carre 350
Of victorye, bye val'rous chiefs
Gayn'd ynne the bloudie warre:

And to the people hee dydd saie,
"Beholde you see mee dye,
For servynge loyally mye kynge, 355
Mye kynge most rightfullie.

"As longe as EDWARDE rules thys lande,
Ne quiet you wylle knowe;
Youre sonnes and husbandes shalle bee slayne.
And brookes wythe bloude shalle flowe. 360

"You leave youre goode and lawfulle kynge.
Whenne ynne adversitye;
Lyke mee, untoe the true cause stycke,
And for the true cause dye."

Thenne hee, wyth preestes, uponne hys knees, 365
A pray'r to Godde dydd make,
Beseechynge hym unto hymselfe
Hys partynge soule to take.

Thenne, kneelynge downe, hee layd hys hedde
Most seemlie onne the blocke; 370
Whyche fromme hys bodie fayre at once
The able heddes-manne stroke:

And oute the bloude beganne to flowe,
And rounde the scaffolde twyne;
And teares, enow to washe't awaie, 375
Dydd flowe fromme each mann's eyne.

The bloudie axe hys bodie fayre
Ynnto foure parties cutte;
And ev'rye parte, and eke hys hedde,
Uponne a pole was putte. 380

One parte dydd rotte onne Kynwulph-hylle,
One onne the mynster-tower,
And one from off the castle-gate
The crowen dydd devoure:

The other onne Seyncte Powle's goode gate, 385
A dreery spectacle;
Hys hedde was plac'd onne the hyghe crosse,
Ynne hyghe-streete most nobile.

Thus was the ende of BAWDIN'S fate:
Godde prosper longe oure kynge, 390
And grante hee maye, wyth BAWDIN'S soule,
Ynne heav'n Godd's mercie synge!












AELLA, bie _Thomas Rowleie_, Preeste, the Aucthoure.

CELMONDE, _Johan Iscamm_, Preeste.

HURRA, Syrr _Thybbotte Gorges_, Knyghte.

BIRTHA, Mastre _Edwarde Canynge_.

Odherr Partes bie _Knyghtes Mynstrelles_.


'Tys songe bie mynstrelles, thatte yn auntyent tym,
Whan Reasonn hylt[1] herselfe in cloudes of nyghte,
The preeste delyvered alle the lege[2] yn rhym;
Lyche peyncted[3] tyltynge speares to please the syghte,
The whyche yn yttes felle use doe make moke[4] dere[5], 5
Syke dyd theire auncyante lee deftlie[6] delyghte the eare.

Perchaunce yn Vyrtues gare[7] rhym mote bee thenne,
Butt eefte[8] nowe flyeth to the odher syde;
In hallie[9] preeste apperes the ribaudes[10] penne,
Inne lithie[11] moncke apperes the barronnes pryde: 10
But rhym wythe somme, as nedere[12] widhout teethe,
Make pleasaunce to the sense, botte maie do lyttel scathe[13].

Syr Johne, a knyghte, who hath a barne of lore[14],
Kenns[15] Latyn att fyrst syghte from Frenche or Greke,
Pyghtethe[16] hys knowlachynge[17] ten yeres or more, 15
To rynge upon the Latynne worde to speke.
Whoever spekethe Englysch ys despysed,
The Englysch hym to please moste fyrste be latynized.

Vevyan, a moncke, a good requiem[18] synges;
Can preache so wele, eche hynde[19] hys meneynge knowes 20
Albeytte these gode guyfts awaie he flynges,
Beeynge as badde yn vearse as goode yn prose.
Hee synges of seynctes who dyed for yer Godde,
Everych wynter nyghte afresche he sheddes theyr blodde.

To maydens, huswyfes, and unlored[20] dames, 25
Hee redes hys tales of merryment & woe.
Loughe[21] loudlie dynneth[22] from the dolte[23] adrames[24];
He swelles on laudes of fooles, tho' kennes[25] hem soe.
Sommetyme at tragedie theie laughe and synge,
At merrie yaped[26] fage[27] somme hard-drayned water brynge. 30

Yette Vevyan ys ne foole, beyinde[28] hys lynes.
Geofroie makes vearse, as handycraftes theyr ware;
Wordes wythoute sense fulle grossyngelye[29] he twynes,
Cotteynge hys storie off as wythe a sheere;
Waytes monthes on nothynge, & hys storie donne, 35
Ne moe you from ytte kenn, than gyf[30] you neere begonne.

Enowe of odhers; of mieselfe to write,
Requyrynge whatt I doe notte nowe possess,
To you I leave the taske; I kenne your myghte
Wyll make mie faultes, mie meynte[31] of faultes, be less. 40
AELLA wythe thys I sende, and hope that you
Wylle from ytte caste awaie, whatte lynes maie be untrue.

Playes made from hallie[32] tales I holde unmeete;
Lette somme greate storie of a manne be songe;
Whanne, as a manne, we Godde and Jesus treate, 45
In mie pore mynde, we doe the Godhedde wronge.
Botte lette ne wordes, whyche droorie[33] mote ne heare,
Bee placed yn the same. Adieu untylle anere[34].


[Footnote 1: hid, concealed.]

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