The Rowley Poems Part 23

aeLLA, BIRTHA.

aeLLA.

Notte, whanne the hallie prieste dyd make me knyghte, Blessynge the weaponne, tellynge future dede, Howe bie mie honde the prevyd[10] Dane shoulde blede, Howe I schulde often bee, and often wynne, ynn fyghte;

Notte, whann I fyrste behelde thie beauteous hue, 25 Whyche strooke mie mynde, & rouzed mie softer soule; Nott, whann from the barbed horse yn fyghte dyd viewe The flying Dacians oere the wyde playne roule, Whan all the troopes of Denmarque made grete dole, Dydd I fele joie wyth syke reddoure[11] as nowe, 30 Whann hallie preest, the lechemanne of the soule, Dydd knytte us both ynn a caytysnede[12] vowe: Now hallie aella's selynesse ys grate; Shap[13] haveth nowe ymade hys woes for to emmate[14].

BIRTHA.

Mie lorde, & husbande, syke a joie ys myne; 35 Botte mayden modestie moste ne soe saie, Albeytte thou mayest rede ytt ynn myne eyne, Or ynn myne harte, where thou shalte be for aie; Inne sothe, I have botte meeded oute thie faie[15]; For twelve tymes twelve the mone hathe bin yblente[16], 40 As manie tymes hathe vyed the G.o.dde of daie, And on the gra.s.se her lemes[17] of sylverr sente, Sythe thou dydst cheese mee for thie swote to bee, Enactynge ynn the same moste faiefullie to mee.

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.

aeLLA.

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 h.e.l.l, 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.

aeLLA.

Thie gentle wordis doe thie volunde[29] kenne To bee moe clergionde thann ys ynn meyncte of menne.

aeLLA, BIRTHA, CELMONDE, MYNSTRELLES.

CELMONDE.

Alle blessynges showre on gentle aella'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 aella 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.

aeLLA.

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.