No More Learning

The nottebrowne Elinoure to Juga fayre 5
Dydde speke acroole[4], wythe languishment of eyne,
Lyche droppes of pearlie dew, lemed[5] the quyvryng brine.

ELINOURE.

O gentle Juga! heare mie dernie[6] plainte,
To fyghte for Yorke mie love ys dyghte[7] in stele;
O maie ne sanguen steine the whyte rose peyncte, 10
Maie good Seyncte Cuthberte watche Syrre Roberte wele.
Moke moe thanne deathe in phantasie I feele;
See! see! upon the grounde he bleedynge lies;
Inhild[8] some joice[9] of lyfe or else mie deare love dies.

JUGA.

Systers in sorrowe, on thys daise-ey'd banke, 15
Where melancholych broods, we wyll lamente;
Be wette wythe mornynge dewe and evene danke;
Lyche levynde[10] okes in eche the odher bente,
Or lyche forlettenn[11] halles of merriemente,
Whose gastlie mitches[12] holde the traine of fryghte[13], 20
Where lethale[14] ravens bark, and owlets wake the nyghte.

[ELINOURE. ]

No moe the miskynette[15] shall wake the morne,
The minstrelle daunce, good cheere, and morryce plaie;
No moe the amblynge palfrie and the horne
Shall from the lessel[16] rouze the foxe awaie; 25
I'll seke the foreste alle the lyve-longe daie;
Alle nete amenge the gravde chyrche[17] glebe wyll goe,
And to the passante Spryghtes lecture[18] mie tale of woe.

[JUGA. ]

Whan mokie[19] cloudis do hange upon the leme
Of leden[20] Moon, ynn sylver mantels dyghte; 30
The tryppeynge Faeries weve the golden dreme
Of Selyness[21], whyche flyethe wythe the nyghte;
Thenne (botte the Seynctes forbydde! ) gif to a spryte
Syrr Rychardes forme ys lyped, I'll holde dystraughte
Hys bledeynge claie-colde corse, and die eche daie ynn thoughte. 35

ELINOURE.
Ah woe bementynge wordes; what wordes can shewe!
Thou limed[22] ryver, on thie linche[23] maie bleede
Champyons, whose bloude wylle wythe thie waterres flowe,
And Rudborne streeme be Rudborne streeme indeede!
Haste, gentle Juga, tryppe ytte oere the meade, 40
To knowe, or wheder we muste waile agayne,
Or wythe oure fallen knyghtes be menged onne the plain.

Soe sayinge, lyke twa levyn-blasted trees,
Or twayne of cloudes that holdeth stormie rayne;
Theie moved gentle oere the dewie mees[24], 45
To where Seyncte Albons holie shrynes remayne.
There dyd theye fynde that bothe their knyghtes were slayne,
Distraughte[25] theie wandered to swollen Rudbornes syde,
Yelled theyre leathalle knelle, sonke ynn the waves, and dyde.

[Footnote 1: Rudborne (in Saxon, red-water), a River near Saint
Albans, famous for the battles there fought between the Houses of
Lancaster and York. ]

[Footnote 2: lamenting. ]

[Footnote 3: murdering. ]

[Footnote 4: faintly. ]

[Footnote 5: glistened. ]

[Footnote 6: sad complaint. ]

[Footnote 7: arrayed, or cased. ]

[Footnote 8: infuse. ]

[Footnote 9: juice. ]

[Footnote 10: blasted. ]

[Footnote 11: forsaken.