We wylle ynn a bordelle[40] lyve,
Hailie, thoughe of no estate;
Everyche clocke moe love shall gyve;
Wee ynne godenesse wylle bee greate.
Hailie, thoughe of no estate;
Everyche clocke moe love shall gyve;
Wee ynne godenesse wylle bee greate.
Thomas Chatterton - Rowley Poems
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.
MANNE.
Bie oure ladie her yborne, 135
To-morrowe, soone as ytte ys daie,
I'lle make thee wyfe, ne bee forsworne,
So tyde me lyfe or dethe for aie.
WOMANNE.
Whatt dothe lette, botte thatte nowe
Wee attenes[38], thos honde yn honde, 140
Unto divinistre[39] goe,
And bee lyncked yn wedlocke bonde?
MANNE.
I agree, and thus I plyghte
Honde, and harte, and all that's myne;
Goode syr Rogerr, do us ryghte, 145
Make us one, at Cothbertes shryne.
BOTHE.
We wylle ynn a bordelle[40] lyve,
Hailie, thoughe of no estate;
Everyche clocke moe love shall gyve;
Wee ynne godenesse wylle bee greate. 150
AELLA.
I lyche thys songe, I lyche ytt myckle well;
And there ys monie for yer syngeynge nowe;
Butte have you noone thatt marriage-blessynges telle?
CELMONDE.
In marriage, blessynges are botte fewe, I trowe.
MYNSTRELLES.
Laverde[41], wee have; and, gyff you please, wille synge, 155
As well as owre choughe-voyces wylle permytte.
AELLA.
Comme then, and see you swotelie tune the strynge,
And stret[42], and engyne all the human wytte,
Toe please mie dame.
MYNSTRELLES.
We'lle strayne owre wytte and synge.
_Mynstrelles Songe. _
FYRSTE MYNSTRYLLE.
The boddynge flourettes bloshes atte the lyghte; 160
The mees be sprenged wyth the yellowe hue;
Ynn daiseyd mantels ys the mountayne dyghte;
The nesh[43] yonge coweslepe bendethe wyth the dewe;
The trees enlefed, yntoe Heavenne straughte.
Whenn gentle wyndes doe blowe, to whestlyng dynne ys broughte. 165
The evenynge commes, and brynges the dewe alonge;
The roddie welkynne sheeneth to the eyne;
Arounde the alestake Mynstrells synge the songe;
Yonge ivie rounde the doore poste do entwyne;
I laie mee onn the grasse; yette, to mie wylle, 170
Albeytte alle ys fayre, there lackethe somethynge stylle.