The Rowley Poems Part 27

How! b.u.t.te bee bourne mie rage. I kenne aryghte Bothe thee and thyne maie ne bee wordhye peene.

Eftsoones I hope wee scalle engage yn fyghte; 485 Thanne to the souldyers all thou wylte bewreene.

I'll prove mie courage onne the burled greene; Tys there alleyne I'll telle thee whatte I bee.

Gyf I weelde notte the deadlie sphere adeene, Thanne lett mie name be fulle as lowe as thee. 490 Thys mie adented shielde, thys mie warre-speare, Schalle telle the falleynge foe gyf Hurra's harte can feare.

MAGNUS.

Magnus woulde speke, b.u.t.te thatte hys n.o.ble spryte Dothe soe enrage, he knowes notte whatte to saie.

He'dde speke yn blowes, yn gottes of blodde he'd wryte, 495 And on thie heafod peyncte hys myghte for aie.

Gyf thou anent an wolfynnes rage wouldest staie, 'Tys here to meet ytt; botte gyff nott, bee goe; Lest I in furrie shulde mie armes dysplaie, Whyche to thie boddie wylle wurche[77] myckle woe. 500 Oh! I bee madde, dystraughte wyth brendyng rage; Ne seas of smethynge gore wylle mie chafed harte a.s.swage.

HURRA.

I kenne thee, Magnus, welle; a wyghte thou art That doest aslee alonge ynn doled dystresse, Strynge bulle yn boddie, lyoncelle yn harte, 505 I almost wysche thie prowes were made lesse.

Whan aella (name drest uppe yn ugsomness[78]

To thee and recreandes[79]) thondered on the playne, Howe dydste thou thorowe fyrste of fleers presse!

Swefter thanne federed takelle dydste thou reyne. 510 A ronnynge pryze onn seyncte daie to ordayne, Magnus, and none botte hee, the ronnynge pryze wylle gayne.

MAGNUS.

Eternalle plagues devour thie baned tyngue!

Myrriades of neders pre upponne thie spryte!

Maiest thou fele al the peynes of age whylst yynge, 515 Unmanned, uneyned, exclooded aie the lyghte, Thie senses, lyche thieselfe, enwrapped yn nyghte, A scoff to foemen & to beastes a pheere; Maie furched levynne onne thie head alyghte, Maie on thee falle the fhuyr of the unweere; 520 Fen vaipoures blaste thie everiche manlie powere, Maie thie bante boddie quycke the wolfome peenes devoure.

Faygne woulde I curse thee further, botte mie tyngue Denies mie harte the favoure soe toe doe.

HURRA.

Nowe bie the Dacyanne G.o.ddes, & Welkyns kynge, 525 Wythe fhurie, as thou dydste begynne, persue; Calle on mie heade all tortures that bee rou, Bane onne, tylle thie owne tongue thie curses fele.

Sende onne mie heade the blyghteynge levynne blewe, The thonder loude, the swellynge azure rele[80]. 530 Thie wordes be hie of dynne, botte nete besyde; Bane on, good chieftayn, fyghte wythe wordes of myckle pryde.

Botte doe notte waste thie breath, lest aella come.

MAGNUS.

aella & thee togyder synke toe h.e.l.le!

Bee youre names blasted from the rolle of dome! 535 I feere noe aella, thatte thou kennest welle.

Unlydgefulle traytoure, wylt thou nowe rebelle?

'Tys knowen, thatte yie menn bee lyncked to myne, Bothe sente, as troopes of wolves, to sletre felle; Botte nowe thou lackest hem to be all yyne. 540 Nowe, bie the G.o.ddes yatte reule the Dacyanne state, Speacke thou yn rage once moe, I wyll thee dysregate.

HURRA.

I pryze thie threattes joste as I doe thie banes, The sede of malyce and recendize al.

Thou arte a steyne unto the name of Danes; 545 Thou alleyne to thie tyngue for proofe canst calle.

Thou beest a worme so groffile and so smal, I wythe thie bloude woulde scorne to foul mie sworde, Botte wythe thie weaponnes woulde upon thee falle, Alyche thie owne feare, slea thee wythe a worde. 550 I Hurra amme miesel, & aie wylle bee, As greate yn valourous actes, & yn commande as thee.

MAGNUS, HURRA, ARMYE & MESSENGER.

MESSENGERE.

Blynne your contekions[81], chiefs; for, as I stode Uponne mie watche, I spiede an armie commynge, Notte lyche ann handfulle of a fremded[82] foe, 555 Botte blacke wythe armoure, movynge ugsomlie, Lyche a blacke fulle cloude, thatte dothe goe alonge To droppe yn hayle, & hele the thonder storme.

MAGNUS.

Ar there meynte of them?

MESSENGERR.

Thycke as the ante-flyes ynne a sommer's none, 560 Seemynge as tho' theie stynge as persante too.

HURRA.

Whatte matters thatte? lettes sette oure warr-arraie.

Goe, sounde the beme, lette champyons prepare; Ne doubtynge, we wylle stynghe as faste as heie.

Whatte? doest forgard[83] thie blodde? ys ytte for feare? 565 Wouldest thou gayne the towne, & castle-stere, And yette ne byker wythe the soldyer guarde?

Go, hyde thee ynn mie tente annethe the lere; I of thie boddie wylle keepe watche & warde.

MAGNUS.

Oure G.o.ddes of Denmarke know mie harte ys goode. 570

HURRA.

For nete uppon the erthe, botte to be choughens foode.

MAGNUS, HURRA, ARMIE, SECONDE MESSENGERRE.

SECONDE MESSENGERRE.

As from mie towre I kende the commynge foe, I spied the crossed shielde, & bloddie swerde, The furyous aella's banner; wythynne kenne The armie ys. Dysorder throughe oure hoaste 575 Is fleynge, borne onne wynges of aella's name; Styr, styr, mie lordes!

MAGNUS.

What? aella? & soe neare?

Thenne Denmarques roiend; oh mie rysynge feare!

HURRA.

What doeste thou mene? thys aella's botte a manne.

Nowe bie mie sworde, thou arte a verie berne[84]. 580 Of late I dyd thie creand valoure scanne, Whanne thou dydst boaste soe moche of actyon derne.

Botte I toe warr mie doeynges moste atturne, To cheere the Sabbataneres to deere dede.