swythynne speeke, or
instante
thou shalte die.
Thomas Chatterton - Rowley Poems
AElla!
oh!
hee lyves agen.
AELLA.
Cal mee notte AElla; I am hymme ne moe.
Where ys shee gon awaie? ah! speake! how? when?
EGWINA.
I will.
AELLA.
Caparyson a score of stedes; flie, flie.
Where ys shee?
swythynne speeke, or instante thou shalte die. 1155
EGWINA.
Stylle thie loud rage, & here thou whatte I knowe.
AELLA.
Oh! speek.
EGWINA.
Lyche prymrose, droopynge wythe the heavie rayne,
Laste nyghte I lefte her, droopynge wythe her wiere,
Her love the gare, thatte gave her harte syke peyne--
AELLA.
Her love! to whomme?
EGWINA.
To thee, her spouse alleyne[122]. 1160
As ys mie hentylle everyche morne to goe,
I wente, and oped her chamber doore ynn twayne,
Botte found her notte, as I was wont to doe;
Thanne alle arounde the pallace I dyd seere[123],
Botte culde (to mie hartes woe) ne fynde her anie wheere. 1165
AELLA.
Thou lyest, foul hagge! thou lyest; thou art her ayde
To chere her louste;--botte noe; ytte cannotte bee.
AELLA.
Cal mee notte AElla; I am hymme ne moe.
Where ys shee gon awaie? ah! speake! how? when?
EGWINA.
I will.
AELLA.
Caparyson a score of stedes; flie, flie.
Where ys shee?
swythynne speeke, or instante thou shalte die. 1155
EGWINA.
Stylle thie loud rage, & here thou whatte I knowe.
AELLA.
Oh! speek.
EGWINA.
Lyche prymrose, droopynge wythe the heavie rayne,
Laste nyghte I lefte her, droopynge wythe her wiere,
Her love the gare, thatte gave her harte syke peyne--
AELLA.
Her love! to whomme?
EGWINA.
To thee, her spouse alleyne[122]. 1160
As ys mie hentylle everyche morne to goe,
I wente, and oped her chamber doore ynn twayne,
Botte found her notte, as I was wont to doe;
Thanne alle arounde the pallace I dyd seere[123],
Botte culde (to mie hartes woe) ne fynde her anie wheere. 1165
AELLA.
Thou lyest, foul hagge! thou lyest; thou art her ayde
To chere her louste;--botte noe; ytte cannotte bee.