The Rowley Poems by Thomas Chatterton (inspirational books to read .txt) 📖

to proove fromm cravents[112] owre goode name,

    Bewrynnynge[113] thatt wee gentile blodde have spylte.

 

  HEREHAWDE.

 

    Yee knyghtes of cortesie, these straungerrs, saie,

    Bee you fulle wyllynge forr to yeve hemm fraie?                       130

      [_Fyve Knyghtes tylteth wythe the straunge Knyghte, and bee

         everichone[114] overthrowne._

 

  BOURTONNE.

 

    Nowe bie Seyncte Marie, gyff onn all the fielde

    Ycrasedd[115] speres and helmetts bee besprente[116],

    Gyff everyche knyghte dydd houlde a piercedd[117] sheeld,

    Gyff all the feelde wythe champyonne blodde bee stente[118],

    Yett toe encounterr hymm I bee contente.                              135

    Annodherr launce, Marshalle, anodherr launce.

    Albeytte hee wythe lowes[119] of fyre ybrente[120],

    Yett Bourtonne woulde agenste hys val[121] advance.

    Fyve haveth fallenn downe anethe[122] hys speere,

    Botte hee schalle bee the next thatt falleth heere.                   140

 

    Bie thee, Seyncte Marie, and thy Sonne I sweare,

    Thatt ynn whatte place yonn doughtie knyghte shall fall

    Anethe[123] the stronge push of mie straught[124] out speere,

    There schalle aryse a hallie[125] chyrches walle,

    The whyche, ynn honnoure, I wylle Marye calle,                        145

    Wythe pillars large, and spyre full hyghe and rounde.

    And thys I faifullie[126] wylle stonde to all,

    Gyff yonderr straungerr falleth to the grounde.

    Straungerr, bee boune[127]; I champyonn[128] you to warre.

    Sounde, sounde the flughornes, to bee hearde fromm farre.             150

      [Bourtonne & _the_ Straungerr _tylt_. Straunger _falleth_.

 

  KYNGE.

 

        The Mornynge Tyltes now cease.

 

  HERAWDE.

 

                               Bourtonne ys kynge.

    Dysplaie the Englyshe bannorre onn the tente;

    Rounde hymm, yee mynstrelles, songs of achments[129] synge;

    Yee Herawdes, getherr upp the speeres besprente[130];

    To Kynge of Tourney-tylte bee all knees bente.                        155

    Dames faire and gentle, forr youre loves hee foughte;

    Forr you the longe tylte-launce, the swerde hee shente[131];

    Hee joustedd, alleine[132] havynge you ynn thoughte.

    Comme, mynstrelles, sound the strynge, goe onn eche syde,

    Whylest hee untoe the Kynge ynn state doe ryde.                       160

 

  MYNSTRELLES.

 

    Whann Battayle, smethynge[133] wythe new quickenn'd gore,

    Bendynge wythe spoiles, and bloddie droppynge hedde,

    Dydd the merke[134] woode of ethe[135] and rest explore,

    Seekeynge to lie onn Pleasures downie bedde,

      Pleasure, dauncyng fromm her wode,                                  165

      Wreathedd wythe floures of aiglintine,

      Fromm hys vysage washedd the bloude,

      Hylte[136] hys swerde and gaberdyne.

 

    Wythe syke an eyne shee swotelie[137] hymm dydd view,

    Dydd foe ycorvenn[138] everrie shape to joie,                         170

    Hys spryte dydd chaunge untoe anodherr hue,

    Hys armes, ne spoyles, mote anie thoughts emploie.

      All delyghtsomme and contente,

      Fyre enshotynge[139] fromm hys eyne,

      Ynn hys arms hee dydd herr hente[140],                              175

      Lyche the merk[141]-plante doe entwyne.

      Soe, gyff thou lovest Pleasure and herr trayne,

      Onknowlachynge[142] ynn whatt place herr to fynde,

      Thys rule yspende[143], and ynn thie mynde retayne;

      Seeke Honnoure fyrste, and Pleasaunce lies behynde.                 180

 

[Footnote 1: sport, or play.]

 

[Footnote 2: bounded, or measured.]

 

[Footnote 3: curiously devised.]

 

[Footnote 4: fancys or devices.]

 

[Footnote 5: painted, or displayed.]

 

[Footnote 6: fiery.]

 

[Footnote 7: ornamented, enameled.]

 

[Footnote 8: a young lion.]

 

[Footnote 9: drawings, paintings.]

 

[Footnote 10: that.]

 

[Footnote 11: soul.]

 

[Footnote 11: dispenser.]

 

[Footnote 12: quickly.]

 

[Footnote 13: give.]

 

[Footnote 14: armer.]

 

[Footnote 15: burnish.]

 

[Footnote 16: many.]

 

[Footnote 17: young, weak, tender.]

 

[Footnote 18: grows.]

 

[Footnote 19: body.]

 

[Footnote 20: nothing.]

 

[Footnote 21: alone.]

 

[Footnote 22: so.]

 

[Footnote 23: herald.]

 

[Footnote 24: a contraction of _them_.]

 

[Footnote 25: _Guie de Sancto Egidio_, the most famous tilter of his

age.]

 

[Footnote 26: William Rufus.]

 

[Footnote 27: run.]

 

[Footnote 28: against.]

 

[Footnote 29: feeble.]

 

[Footnote 30: honour, glory.]

 

[Footnote 31: useless.]

 

[Footnote 32: a kind of claryon.]

 

[Footnote 33: sound.]

 

[Footnote 34: quickly.]

 

[Footnote 35: ready.]

 

[Footnote 36: soon.]

 

[Footnote 37: command.]

 

[Footnote 38: most.]

 

[Footnote 39: fate, or doom.]

 

[Footnote 40: against.]

 

[Footnote 41: pitched, or bent down.]

 

[Footnote 42: drink.]

 

[Footnote 43: servants, attendants.]

 

[Footnote 44: song, or ballad.]

 

[Footnote 45: activity.]

 

[Footnote 46: joined (_1842; left blank in 1777 and 1778_)]

 

[Footnote 46: bent.]

 

[Footnote 47: burnished.]

 

[Footnote 48: commanding.]

 

[Footnote 49: servants.]

 

[Footnote 50: hidden.]

 

[Footnote 51: arrows.]

 

[Footnote 52: worked with iron.]

 

[Footnote 53: bends.]

 

[Footnote 54: sounds.]

 

[Footnote 55: loudly.]

 

[Footnote 56: dark, or gloome.]

 

[Footnote 57 & 58: frighted owl.]

 

[Footnote 59: marked with evening dew.]

 

[Footnote 60: standing on their hind legs.]

 

[Footnote 61: venemous.]

 

[Footnote 62: adders.]

 

[Footnote 63: hot, sultry.]

 

[Footnote 64: sound, noise.]

 

[Footnote 65: distracted.]

 

[Footnote 66: arrows.]

 

[Footnote 67: walking leisurely.]

 

[Footnote 68: rolling.]

 

[Footnote 69: arrow.]

 

[Footnote 70: horse coursers.]

 

[Footnote 71: full soon.]

 

[Footnote 72: across his shoulders.]

 

[Footnote 73: garlands of flowers being put round the neck of the

game, it was said to be _ouch'd_, from _ouch_, a chain, worn by earls

round their necks.]

 

[Footnote 74: Turnament.]

 

[Footnote 75: fight, or encounter.]

 

[Footnote 76: that.]

 

[Footnote 77: dispute.]

 

[Footnote 78: glove.]

 

[Footnote 79: a piece of armour.]

 

[Footnote 80: lawful.]

 

[Footnote 81: worthy.]

 

[Footnote 82: furiously.]

 

[Footnote 83: vanquished.]

 

[Footnote 84: oppose.]

 

[Footnote 85: against.]

 

[Footnote 86: much.]

 

[Footnote 87: damage, mischief.]

 

[Footnote 88: bounded.]

 

[Footnote 89: bleed.]

 

[Footnote 90: easy.]

 

[Footnote 91: smoke.]

 

[Footnote 92: hurt, or damage.]

 

[Footnote 93: reward.]

 

[Footnote 94: fight or engage.]

 

[Footnote 95: attend or wait.]

 

[Footnote 96: defy.]

 

[Footnote 97 & 98: destroying lightening.]

 

[Footnote 99: turn.]

 

[Footnote 100: beaver'd.]

 

[Footnote 101: again.]

 

[Footnote 102: quickly.]

 

[Footnote 103: declare.]

 

[Footnote 104: fate.]

 

[Footnote 105: worthy.]

 

[Footnote 106: they.]

 

[Footnote 107: becomes.]

 

[Footnote 108: give.]

 

[Footnote 109: fyght.]

 

[Footnote 110: honour.]

 

[Footnote 111: Tournament.]

 

[Footnote 112: cowards.]

 

[Footnote 113: declaring.]

 

[Footnote 114: every one.]

 

[Footnote 115: broken, split.]

 

[Footnote 116: scatter'd.]

 

[Footnote 117: broken, or pierced through with darts.]

 

[Footnote 118: stained.]

 

[Footnote 119: flames.]

 

[Footnote 120: burnt.]

 

[Footnote 121: healm.]

 

[Footnote 122: beneath.]

 

[Footnote 123: against.]

 

[Footnote 124: stretched out.]

 

[Footnote 125: holy.]

 

[Footnote 126: faithfully.]

 

[Footnote 127: ready.]

 

[Footnote 128: challenge.]

 

[Footnote 129: atchievements, glorious actions.]

 

[Footnote 130: broken spears.]

 

[Footnote 131: broke, destroyed.]

 

[Footnote 132: only, alone.]

 

[Footnote 133: smoaking, steaming.]

 

[Footnote 134: dark, gloomy.]

 

[Footnote 135: ease.]

 

[Footnote 136: hid, secreted.]

 

[Footnote 137: sweetly.]

 

[Footnote 138: moulded.]

 

[Footnote 139: shooting, darting.]

 

[Footnote 140: grasp, hold.]

 

[Footnote 141: night-shade.]

 

[Footnote 142: ignorant, unknowing.]

 

[Footnote 143: consider.]

 

 

 

BRISTOWE TRAGEDIE: OR THE DETHE OF SYR CHARLES BAWDIN.

 

  The featherd songster chaunticleer

    Han wounde hys bugle horne,

  And tolde the earlie villager

    The commynge of the morne:

 

  Kynge EDWARDE sawe the ruddie streakes                                    5

    Of lyghte eclypse the greie;

  And herde the raven's crokynge throte

    Proclayme the fated daie.

 

  "Thou'rt ryght," quod hee, "for, by the Godde

    That syttes enthron'd on hyghe!                                        10

  CHARLES BAWDIN, and hys fellowes twaine,

    To-daie shall surelie die."

 

  Thenne wythe a jugge of nappy ale

    Hys Knyghtes dydd onne hymm waite;

  "Goe tell the traytour, thatt to-daie                                    15

    Hee leaves thys mortall state."

 

  Syr CANTERLOUE thenne bendedd lowe,

    Wythe harte brymm-fulle of woe;

  Hee journey'd to the castle-gate,

    And to Syr CHARLES dydd goe.                                           20

 

  Butt whenne hee came, hys children twaine,

    And eke hys lovynge wyfe,

  Wythe brinie tears dydd wett the floore,

    For goode Syr CHARLESES lyfe.

 

  "O goode Syr CHARLES!" sayd CANTERLOUE,                                  25

    "Badde tydyngs I doe brynge."

  "Speke boldlie, manne," sayd brave Syr CHARLES,

    "Whatte says thie traytor kynge?"

 

  "I greeve to telle, before yonne sonne

    Does fromme the welkinn flye,                                          30

  Hee hath uponne hys honour sworne,

    Thatt thou shalt surelie die."

 

  "Wee all must die," quod brave Syr CHARLES;

    "Of thatte I'm not affearde;

  Whatte bootes to lyve a little space?                                    35

    Thanke JESU, I'm prepar'd."

 

  "Butt telle thye kynge, for myne hee's not,

    I'de sooner die to-daie

  Thanne lyve hys slave, as manie are,

    Tho' I shoulde lyve for aie."                                          40

 

  Thenne CANTERLOUE hee dydd goe out,

    To telle the maior straite

  To gett all thynges ynne reddyness

    For goode Syr CHARLESES fate.

 

  Thenne Maisterr CANYNGE saughte the kynge,                               45

    And felle down onne hys knee;

  "I'm come," quod hee, "unto your grace

    To move your clemencye."

 

  Thenne quod the kynge, "Youre tale speke out,

    You have been much oure friende;                                       50

  Whatever youre request may bee,

    Wee wylle to ytte attende."

 

  "My nobile leige! alle my request

    Ys for a nobile knyghte,

  Who, tho' may hap hee has donne wronge,                                  55

    He thoghte ytte stylle was ryghte."

 

  "Hee has a spouse and children twaine,

    Alle rewyn'd are for aie;

  Yff thatt you are resolv'd to lett

    CHARLES BAWDIN die to-daie."                                           60

 

  "Speke nott of such a traytour vile,"

    The kynge ynne furie sayde;

  "Before the evening starre doth sheene,

    BAWDIN shall loose hys hedde."

 

  "Justice does loudlie for hym calle,                                     65

    And hee shalle have hys meede:

  Speke, Maister CANYNGE! Whatte thynge else

    Att present doe you neede?"

 

  "My nobile leige!" goode CANYNGE sayde,

    "Leave justice to our Godde,                                           70

  And laye the yronne rule asyde;

    Be thyne the olyve rodde."

 

  "Was Godde to serche our hertes and reines,

    The best were synners grete;

  CHRIST'S vycarr only knowes ne synne,                                    75

    Ynne alle thys mortall state."

 

  "Lett mercie rule thyne infante reigne,

    'Twylle faste thye crowne fulle sure;

  From race to race thy familie

    Alle sov'reigns shall endure."                                         80

 

  "But yff wythe bloode and slaughter thou

    Beginne thy infante reigne,

  Thy crowne uponne thy childrennes brows

    Wylle never long remayne."

 

  "CANYNGE, awaie! thys traytour vile                                      85

    Has scorn'd my power and mee;

  Howe canst thou thenne for such a manne

    Intreate my clemencye?"

 

  "My nobile leige! the trulie brave

    Wylle val'rous actions prize,                                          90

  Respect a brave and nobile mynde,

    Altho' ynne enemies."

 

  "CANYNGE, awaie! By Godde ynne Heav'n

    Thatt dydd mee beinge gyve,

  I wylle nott taste a bitt of breade                                      95

    Whilst thys Syr CHARLES dothe lyve."

 

  "By MARIE, and alle Seinctes ynne Heav'n,

    Thys sunne shall be hys laste."

  Thenne CANYNGE dropt a brinie teare,

    And from the presence paste.                                          100

 

  Wyth herte brymm-fulle of gnawynge grief,

    Hee to Syr CHARLES dydd goe,

  And satt hymm downe uponne a stoole,

    And teares beganne to flowe.

 

  "Wee all must die," quod brave Syr CHARLES;                             105

    "Whatte bootes ytte howe or whenne;

  Dethe ys the sure, the certaine fate

    Of all wee mortall menne.

 

  "Saye why, my friend, thie honest soul

    Runns overr att thyne eye;                                            110

  Is ytte for my most welcome doome

    Thatt thou dost child-lyke crye?"

 

  Quod godlie CANYNGE, "I doe weepe,

    Thatt thou so soone must dye,

  And leave thy sonnes and helpless wyfe;                                 115

    'Tys thys thatt wettes myne eye."

 

  "Thenne drie the tears thatt out thyne eye

    From godlie fountaines sprynge;

  Dethe I despise, and alle the power

    Of EDWARDE, traytor kynge.                                            120

 

  "Whan throgh the tyrant's welcom means

    I shall resigne my lyfe,

  The Godde I serve wylle soone provyde

    For bothe mye sonnes and wyfe.

 

  "Before I sawe the lyghtsome sunne,                                     125

    Thys was appointed mee;

  Shall mortal manne repyne or grudge

    Whatt Godde ordeynes to bee?

 

  "Howe oft ynne battaile have I stoode,

    Whan thousands dy'd arounde;                                          130

  Whan smokynge streemes of crimson bloode

    Imbrew'd the fatten'd grounde:

 

  "How dydd I knowe thatt ev'ry darte,

    Thatt cutte the airie waie,

  Myghte nott fynde passage toe my harte,                                 135

    And close myne eyes for aie?

 

  "And shall I nowe, forr feere of dethe,

    Looke wanne and bee dysmayde?

  Ne! fromm my herte flie childyshe feere,

    Bee alle the manne display'd.                                         140

 

  "Ah, goddelyke HENRIE! Godde forefende,

    And guarde thee and thye sonne,

  Yff 'tis hys wylle; but yff 'tis nott,

    Why thenne hys wylle bee donne.

 

  "My honest friende, my faulte has beene                                 145

    To serve Godde and mye prynce;

  And thatt I no tyme-server am,

    My dethe wylle soone convynce.

 

  "Ynne Londonne citye was I borne,

    Of parents of grete note;                                             150

  My fadre dydd a nobile armes

    Emblazon onne hys cote:

 

  "I make ne doubte butt hee ys gone

    Where soone I hope to goe;

  Where wee for ever shall bee blest,                                     155

    From oute the reech of woe:

 

  "Hee taughte mee justice and the laws

    Wyth pitie to unite;

  And eke hee taughte mee howe to knowe

    The wronge cause fromm the ryghte:                                    160

 

  "Hee taughte mee wythe a prudent hande

    To feede the hungrie poore,

  Ne lett mye sarvants dryve awaie

    The hungrie fromme my doore:

 

  "And none can saye, butt alle mye lyfe                                  165

    I have hys wordyes kept;

  And summ'd the actyonns of the daie

    Eche nyghte before I slept.

 

  "I have a spouse, goe aske of her,