Читать книгу Poetry - John Skelton - Страница 48

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Ay, besherewe yow, be my fay,

This wanton clarkes be nyse all way;

Avent, avent, my popagay!

What, will ye do no thyng but play?

Tully valy, strawe, let be, I say!

Gup, Cristian Clowte, gup, Jak of the vale!

With, Manerly Margery Mylk and Ale.

Be God, ye be a praty pode,

And I loue you an hole cart lode.

Strawe, Jamys foder, ye play the fode, 10

I am no hakney for your rode;

Go watch a bole, your bak is brode:

Gup, Cristian Clowte, gup, Jak of the vale!

With, Manerly Margery Mylk and Ale.

I wiss ye dele vncurtesly;

What wolde ye frompill me? now, fy!

What, and ye shalbe my piggesnye?

Be Crist, ye shall not, no hardely;

I will not be japed bodely: 20

Gup, Cristian Clowte, gup, Jake of the vale!

With, Manerly Margery Mylk and Ale.

Walke forth your way, ye cost me nought;

Now haue I fownd that I haue sought,

The best chepe flessh that euyr I bought.

Yet, for His loue that all hath wrought,

Wed me, or els I dye for thought!

Gup, Cristian Clowte, your breth[231] is stale!

Go, Manerly Margery Mylk and Ale!

Gup, Cristian Clowte, gup, Jak of the vale! 30

With, Manerly Margery Mylk and Ale.