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To catche the forked cap. Forsothe they are to lewd To say so, all beshrewd !
Lord, how he wolde pry
140 Alas, it wyll me slo, That Phillyp is gone me fro!
THE NUTBROWNE MAIDE
(Unknown Author) “Be it right or wrong, these men among lon
women do complaine, Affermyng this, how that it is a labour spent
in vaine To love them wele, for never a dele they love a
man agayne; For lete a man do what he can ther favor to
attayne, Yet yf a newe to them pursue, ther furst
trew lover than 2 Laboureth for nought, and from her thought
he is a bannisshed man.
FROM COLYN CLOUTE My name is Colyn Cloute. I purpose to shake oute All my connyng bagge, Lyke a clerkely hagge; For though my ryme be ragged, Tattered and jagged, Rudely rayne beaten, Rusty and moughte-eaten, If ye take well therwith, It hath in it some pyth. For, as farre as I can se, It is wronge with eche degre; For the temporalte Accuseth the spiritualte; The spirituall agayne Dothe grudge and complayne Upon the temporall men: Thus eche of other blother 4 The tone 5 agayng the tother. Alas, they make me shoder ! For in hoder moder 6 The Churche is put in faute.? The prelates ben so haut, They say, and loke so hy, As though they wolde fly Above the sterry skye. Laye-men say indede How they take no hede Theyr sely shepe to fede, But plucke away and pull The fieces of theyr wull; Unethes 9 they leve a locke Of wull amonges theyr flocke. And as for theyr connynge, A glommynge and a mummynge, And make therof a jape; They gaspe and they gape, All to have promocyon ; There is theyr hole devocyon, With money, if it wyll hap,
motheaten 4 complain 7 fault 8 haughty ' scarcely
“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, in lykewise
hardely Ye wolde answere, whosoever it were, in 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, eche shuld be wrothe with
other, as I trowe. It were myn ease to lyve in pease; so wyl I yf 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
curteis 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' ye take hede, yet is noo nede, suche
wordis to say bee ? 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 therfore
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 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. 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
often seen, When men wyl breke promyse, they speke the
wordis on the splene.?
Here may ye see that wymen be in love
meke, kinde, and stable, Late never man repreve them than, or calle
them variable, But rather prey God that we may to them
be comfortable, Whiche somtyme provych suche as he loveth,
yf they be charitable. For sith men wolde that wymen sholde be
meke to them echeon, Moche more ought they to God obey, and serve but hym alone.
EARLY TUDOR LYRICS (c. 1500)
I. RELIGIOUS LYRIC
Thys ender nyght ?
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 yfi I be layde;
Shall cum on the twelfe day.
And sing, By-by, lullay!”
Who shall have my fayr lady?
1 show, declare