« EelmineJätka »
"Now syth that ye have shewed to me the
secret of your mynde, I shalbe playne to you agayne, lyke as ye shal
"I thinke not nay, but as ye saye, it is noo
maydens lore; But love may make me for your sake, as ye
have said before,
1 remain 2 at once
“Syth I have here ben partynere with you
of joy and blysse, I muste also parte of your woo endure, as
"I shal, as now,
than longeth to womanhede, To short my here, a bowe to bere to shote in
time of nede.
“Nay, nay, not soo, ye shal not goo! and I
shal tell you why: Your appetyte is to be lyght of love, I wele
aspie; For right as ye have sayd to me, ín lykewise
hardely Ye wolde answere, whosoever it were,
way of company. It is sayd of olde, ‘sone hote, sone colde,' and
so is a woman; Wherfore I too the woode wyl goo, alone, a
“Yef that ye went, ye shulde repent, for in
the forest now I have purveid me of a maide, whom I love
more than you, Another fayrer than ever ye were, I dare it
wel avowe; And of you both, cche shuld be wrothe with
other, as I trowe. It were myn case to lyve in pease; so wyl I yf
I can; Wherfore I to the wode wyl goo, alone, a banysshid man."
150 "Though in the wood I undirstode ye had a
paramour, All this may nought remeve my thought, but
that I wyl be your ; And she shal fynde me softe and kynde, and
curtcis every our, Glad to fulfylle all that she wyl commaunde
me, to my power; For had ye, loo ! an hondred moo, yet wolde I
be that one; For in my mynde of all mankynde I love but
“Yef 1 ye take hede, yet is noo nede, suche
wordis to say bce ? me, For oft ye preyd, and longe assayed, or I you
lovid, perdee! And though that I of auncestry a barons
doughter bee, Yet have you proved how I you loved, a squyer of lowe degree,
130 And ever shal, what so befalle, to dey thersore
anoon; For in my mynde of all mankynde I love but
“A barons childe to be begyled, it were a
curssed dede, To be felaw with an outlawe, almyghty God
forbede! Yet bettyr were the power 3 squyer alone to
forest yede, Than ye shal say, another day, that be? my
wyked dede Ye were betrayed; wherfore, good maide, the
best red 5 that I can, Is that I too the grenewode goo, alone, a ban
“Myn owne dere love, I see the prove that ye
be kynde and trewe; Of mayde and wyfe, in all my lyf, the best
that ever I knewe! Be mery and glad, be no more sad, the case
is chaungèd newe; For it were ruthe that for your trouth you shuld have cause to rewe.
160 Be not dismayed, whatsoever I sayd, to you
whan I began, I wyl not too the grenewode goo, I am noo
banysshyd man.” “Theis tidingis be more glad to me than to be
made a quene, Yf I were sure they shuld endure; but it is
“Whatsoever befalle, I never shal of this
thing you upbraid; But yf ye goo and leve me so, than have ye me betraied.
When men wyl breke promyse, they speke the
wordis on the splene.
EARLY TUDOR LYRICS (c. 1500)
Thys ender nyght 2
A star as bright as day;
By-by, baby, lullay!
Unto hur son gane say: “My son, my lorde, My fathere dere,
Why lyest thow in hay?
Shulde lye in ryche aray,
To syng, By-by, lullay!”
And thus, me-thought, he sayd : “I am a kyng Above all thyng,
Yn hay yff I be layde;
Shall cum on the twelfe day.
And sing, By-by, lullay!"
I. RELIGIOUS LYRIC
Who shall have my sayr lady? Who but I? Who but 1 ? Who? Who shall have my fayr lady? Who hath more ryght therlo?
2 the other night
“My son, I say
Thow art my derling dere;
Thou wotyst hyt well yn fay.
And syng, By-by, lullay."
Then take me up on lofte;
And dandell me full soft;
And kepe me nyght and day; And yff I wepe And cannott slepe,
Syng, By, baby, lullay.”,
Syth all ys at thy wyll,
Yff hyt be ryght and skylle; “That chylde or man, Whoever can
Be mery on thys day,
By-by, baby, lullay!”
Your askyng shall I spede,
Yn wordes nor in dede.
“Syng what ye wyll,
naundements ay. Yow for to please Let them nott sesse
To syng, Baby, lullay." 1 certainly
Yffe he say he can nowght do,
en lett hym go, For now ys the tyme of Crystymas. Make we mery, etc.