No More Learning

O AElla, 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
AElla, 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.