Laste nyghte, fulle late 1 dydde retourne to reste. As to mie chamber I dydde bende mie waie, To Birtha onne hys name and place addreste; Downe to hym camme shee; butte thereof the Have upon Goddwynne erle of Kente bin layde Dherebie benymmynge hymme of faie and Unliart divinistres haveth saide, [fame; Thatte he was knowen toe noe hallie wurche; Botte thys was all hys faulte, he gyfted ne the churche, The aucthoure of the piece whiche we enacte, Wee better for toe doe do champyon' anie onne. Whatte? Ella deadde! and Birtha dyynge toe! Or who untweste the role of shappe yn twayne? Thie countrymen shall rere thee on the playne, Inne Heaven thou synge of Godde, on Erthe we'lle synge of thee. Persons represented. bie T. Rowleie, the Aucthoure. Johan de Iscamme. Syrr Thybbot Gorges. Surr Alan de Vere. Mastre Willyam Canynge. Odhers bie Knyghtes Mynstrelles. GODDWYN and HAROLDE, HAROLDE! GODDWYN. HAROLDE. Mie loverde! GODDWYN. O! I weepe to thyncke, What foemen ryseth to ifrete the londe. dryncke, And all ys graunted from the roieal honde. Lette notte thie agreme blyn, ne aledge' stonde; GODDWYN. I ken thie spryte ful welle; gentle thou art, Stringe, ugsomme, rou, as smethynge armyes seeme; Yett efte, I feare, thie chefes toe grete a parte, And that thie rede bee efte borne downe bie What tydynges from the kynge? [breme. No instance of this verb has yet been adduced from a writer earlier than Shakspeare. 2 Unintelligible. Mr. Bryant supposed it to nave been written adelege, winch he says is analogous to the Saxon adverb ydelech, and corresponds to Chatterton's interpretation. Botte lette us wayte untylle somme season fytte. Englonde, oh Englonde, tis for thee I blethe, Whylste Edwarde to thic sonnes wylle nete alyse, Shulde anie of thie sonnes fele aughte of ethe? Uppoune the trone I sette thee, helde thie [downe. Botte oh! twere hommage nowe to pyghte thee Thou arte all preeste, and notheynge of the kynge. crowne; Thou arte alle Norman, nothynge of mie blodde. Know, yttebescies thee notte amasse to synge; Servynge thie leegefolcke thou arte servynge Godde. HAROLDE. Aye, I knowe, she is his queene, Albeytte, dyd shee speeke her foemen fayre, I wuide dequace her comlie semlykeene, And foulde mie bloddie anlace yn her hayre. GODDWYN. Thye fhuir blyn, HAROLDE. No, bydde the leathal mere, Upriste withe hiltrene wyndes and cause unBeheste it to be lete; so twylle appeare, [kend, Eere Harolde hyde hys name, his countries friende. The gule-steynet brygandyne, the adventayle, The feerie aniace brede shal make mie gare prevayle. GODDWYN. Harolde, what wuldest doe? HAROLDE. Bethyncke thee whatt. Here liethe Englonde, all her drites unfree, Here liethe Normans coupynge her bie lotte, Caltysnyng everich native plant to gre. Whatte woulde I doe? I brondeous wuide hem slee; [breme; Tare owte theyre sable harte bie ryghtefulle Theyre deathe a menes untoe mie lyfe shuide bee, Mie spryte shulde revelle yn theyr harte-blodde streme. Eftsoones I wylle bewryne mie ragefulle ire, And Goddis anlace weilde yn furie dyre. GODDWYN. Whatte wouldest thou wythe the kynge? HAROLDE. Take offe hys crowne; The ruler of somme mynster hym ordeyne; Sette uppe som dygner than I han pyghte downe; And peace in Englonde shulde be brayd agayne. GODDWYN. No, lette the super-hallie seyncte kynge reygne, Ande somme moe reded rule the untentyff reaulme; Kynge Edwarde, yn hys cortesie, wylle deygne To yielde the spoiles, and alleyne were the heaulme: Botte from mee harte bee everych thoughte of gayne, Not anie of mie kin I wysche him to ordeyne. HAROLDE. Tell me the meenes, I wylle boute ytt strayte; Bete mee to slea mieselfe, ytte shalle be done. GODDWYN. To thee I wylle swythynne the menes unplayte, Bie whyche thou, Harolde, shalte be proved mie sonne. I have longe seen whatte peynes were undergon, Whatte agrames braunce out from the general tree; The tyme ys commynge, whan the mollock gron Drented of alle yts swolynge owndes shalle ber; Mie remedie is goode; our menne shall ryse; Eftsoons the Normans and owre agrame flies. HUGHE. Onwordie syke a marvelle of a kynge! I amme no curriedowe, I lacke no wite, I speke whatte bee the trouthe, and whatte all see is ryghte. KYNGE. Thou arte a nallie manne, I doe thee pryze. Comme, comme, and here and hele mee ynn mie Fulle twentie mancas I wylle thee alise, [praires. And twayne of hamlettes to thee and thie heyres. Soe shalle all Normannes from mie londe be fed, Theie alleyn have syke love as to acquyre yer bredde.. CHORUS, TO GODDWYN, A TRAGEdie. Whan Freedom, dreste yn blodde-steyned veste, To everie knyghte her warre-songe sange, Uponne her hedde wylde wedes were spredde; A gorie anlace bye her honge. She daunced onne the heathe; She hearde the voice of deathe; Pale-eyned affryghte, hys harte of sylver hue, In vayne assayled her bosomme to acale; She hearde onflemed the shriekynge voice of woe, And sadnesse ynne the owlette shake the dale. She shooke the burled speere, On hie she jeste her sheelde, Her foemen all appere, And flizze alonge the feelde. Power, wythe his heafod straught ynto the skyes, Hys speere a sonne-beame, and hys sheelde a starre, Heckled yn beastskyns, slepte uponne the waste, And wyth the moneynge rouzed the wolfe to fyghte, Swefte as descendeynge lemes of roddie lyghte Plonged to the hulstred bedde of laveynge seas, Gerd the blacke mountayn okes yn drybblets twighte, And ranne yn thoughte alonge the azure mees, Whose eyne dyd feerie sheene, like blue-hayred defs, That dreerie hange upon Dover's emblaunched clefs. fere. The headed javlyn lisseth here and there; Theie stonde, theie ronne, theie loke wyth eger [ayre, eyne; The shyppes sayle, boleynge wy the the ky ndelie Ronneth to harbour from the beatynge bryne; Theie dryve awaie aghaste, whanne to the stronge A burled Trojan lepes, wythe morglaien sweerde yn honde. Hymme followede eftsoones hys compheeres, whose swerdes Glestred lyke gledeynge starres yn frostie nete, Hayleynge theyre captayne in chirckyngewordes Kynge of the lande, whereon theie set theyre fete. The greete kynge Brutus thanne theie dyd hym greete, flete Prepared for battle, mareschalled the fyghte; Theie urged the warre, the natyves fledde, as [syghte; As fleaynge cloudes that swymme before the Tyll tyred wythe battles, for to ceese the fraie, Theie uncted Brutus kynge, and gave the Trojanas swaie. Twayne of twelve years han lemed up the myndes, Leggende the salvage unthewes of theire breste, Improved in mysterk warre, and lymmed theyre kyndes, [reste. Whenne Brute from Brutons sonke to æterne Eftsoons the gentle Locryne was possest Of swaie, and vested yn the paramente; Halceld the bykrous Huns, who dyd infeste Hys wakeynge kyngdom wyth a foule intente; As hys broade swerde oer Homberres heade was honge, [alonge. He tourned toe ryver wyde, and roarynge rolled He wedded Gendolyne of roieal sede, [spreade; The mornynge tynge, the rose, the lillie floure, In ever ronneynge race on her dyd peynote theyre powere. The gentle suyte of Locryne gayned her love; |