Know, ytte beseies[60] thee notte a masse to synge;
Servynge thie leegefolcke[61] thou arte servynge Godde.
Servynge thie leegefolcke[61] thou arte servynge Godde.
Thomas Chatterton - Rowley Poems
tis fetelie[41] prayde.
Moste we those calke[42] awaie the lyve-longe howre? 25
Thos croche[43] oure armes, and ne toe lyve dareygne[44].
Unburled[45] undelievre[46], unespryte[47]?
Far fro mie harte be fled thyk[48] thoughte of peyne,
Ile free mie countrie, or Ille die yn fyghte.
GODDWYN.
Botte lette us wayte untylle somme season fytte. 30
Mie Kentyshmen, thie Summertons shall ryse;
Adented[49] prowess[50] to the gite[51] of witte,
Agayne the argent[52] horse shall daunce yn skies.
Oh Harolde, heere forstraughteynge[53] wanhope[54] lies.
Englonde, oh Englonde, tys for thee I blethe[55]. 35
Whylste Edwarde to thie sonnes wylle nete alyse[56],
Shulde anie of thie sonnes fele aughte of ethe[57]?
Upponne the trone[58] I sette thee, helde thie crowne;
Botte oh! twere hommage nowe to pyghte[59] thee downe.
Thou arte all preeste, & notheynge of the kynge. 40
Thou arte all Norman, nothynge of mie blodde.
Know, ytte beseies[60] thee notte a masse to synge;
Servynge thie leegefolcke[61] thou arte servynge Godde.
HAROLDE.
Thenne Ille doe heaven a servyce. To the skyes
The dailie contekes[62] of the londe ascende. 45
The wyddowe, fahdrelesse, & bondemennes cries
Acheke[63] the mokie[64] aire & heaven astende[65]
On us the rulers doe the folcke depende;
Hancelled[66] from erthe these Normanne[67] hyndes shalle bee;
Lyche a battently[68] low[69], mie swerde shalle brende[70]; 50
Lyche fallynge softe rayne droppes, I wyll hem[71] slea[72];
Wee wayte too longe; our purpose wylle defayte[73];
Aboune[74] the hyghe empryze[75], & rouze the champyones strayte.
GODDWYN.
Thie suster--
HAROLDE.
Aye, I knowe, she is his queene.
Albeytte[76], dyd shee speeke her foemen[77] fayre, 55
I wulde dequace[78] her comlie semlykeene[79],
And foulde mie bloddie anlace[80] yn her hayre.
GODDWYN.
Thye fhuir[81] blyn[82].
HAROLDE.
No, bydde the leathal[83] mere[84]
Upriste[85] withe hiltrene[86] wyndes & cause unkend[87],
Beheste[88] it to be lete[89]; so twylle appeare, 60
Eere Harolde hyde hys name, his contries frende.
The gule-steynct[90] brygandyne[91], the adventayle[92],
The feerie anlace[92] brede[93] shal make mie gare[94] prevayle.
GODDWYN.
Harolde, what wuldest doe?
Moste we those calke[42] awaie the lyve-longe howre? 25
Thos croche[43] oure armes, and ne toe lyve dareygne[44].
Unburled[45] undelievre[46], unespryte[47]?
Far fro mie harte be fled thyk[48] thoughte of peyne,
Ile free mie countrie, or Ille die yn fyghte.
GODDWYN.
Botte lette us wayte untylle somme season fytte. 30
Mie Kentyshmen, thie Summertons shall ryse;
Adented[49] prowess[50] to the gite[51] of witte,
Agayne the argent[52] horse shall daunce yn skies.
Oh Harolde, heere forstraughteynge[53] wanhope[54] lies.
Englonde, oh Englonde, tys for thee I blethe[55]. 35
Whylste Edwarde to thie sonnes wylle nete alyse[56],
Shulde anie of thie sonnes fele aughte of ethe[57]?
Upponne the trone[58] I sette thee, helde thie crowne;
Botte oh! twere hommage nowe to pyghte[59] thee downe.
Thou arte all preeste, & notheynge of the kynge. 40
Thou arte all Norman, nothynge of mie blodde.
Know, ytte beseies[60] thee notte a masse to synge;
Servynge thie leegefolcke[61] thou arte servynge Godde.
HAROLDE.
Thenne Ille doe heaven a servyce. To the skyes
The dailie contekes[62] of the londe ascende. 45
The wyddowe, fahdrelesse, & bondemennes cries
Acheke[63] the mokie[64] aire & heaven astende[65]
On us the rulers doe the folcke depende;
Hancelled[66] from erthe these Normanne[67] hyndes shalle bee;
Lyche a battently[68] low[69], mie swerde shalle brende[70]; 50
Lyche fallynge softe rayne droppes, I wyll hem[71] slea[72];
Wee wayte too longe; our purpose wylle defayte[73];
Aboune[74] the hyghe empryze[75], & rouze the champyones strayte.
GODDWYN.
Thie suster--
HAROLDE.
Aye, I knowe, she is his queene.
Albeytte[76], dyd shee speeke her foemen[77] fayre, 55
I wulde dequace[78] her comlie semlykeene[79],
And foulde mie bloddie anlace[80] yn her hayre.
GODDWYN.
Thye fhuir[81] blyn[82].
HAROLDE.
No, bydde the leathal[83] mere[84]
Upriste[85] withe hiltrene[86] wyndes & cause unkend[87],
Beheste[88] it to be lete[89]; so twylle appeare, 60
Eere Harolde hyde hys name, his contries frende.
The gule-steynct[90] brygandyne[91], the adventayle[92],
The feerie anlace[92] brede[93] shal make mie gare[94] prevayle.
GODDWYN.
Harolde, what wuldest doe?
