Читать книгу The Ancient English Poetry - Various Authors - Страница 22

The Persé owt of Northombarlande.

And a vowe87 to God mayd he, That he wolde hunte in the mountayns Off Chyviat within dayes thre, In the mauger88 of doughtè Dogles,895 And all that ever with him be.

The fattiste hartes in all Cheviat

He sayd he wold kill, and cary them away:

Be my feth, sayd the dougheti Doglas agayn,

I wyll let90 that hontyng yf that I may.10

Then the Persé owt of Banborowe cam,91 With him a myghtye meany;92 With fifteen hondrith archares bold;93 The wear chosen out of shyars thre.94

This begane on a monday at morn15

In Cheviat the hillys so he;95 The chyld may rue that ys un-born, It was the mor pitté.

The dryvars thorowe the woodes went96 For to reas97 the dear;20 Bomen bickarte uppone the bent98 With ther browd aras99 cleare.

Then the wyld100 thorowe the woodes went On every syde shear;101 Grea-hondes thorowe the greves glent10225 For to kyll thear dear.

The begane in Chyviat the hyls abone103 Yerly104 on a monnyn-day;105 Be106 that it drewe to the oware off none107 A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay.30

The blewe a mort uppone the bent,108109 The semblyd on sydis shear;110 To the quyrry111 then the Persè went To se the bryttlynge112 off the deare.

He sayd, It was the Duglas promys35

This day to meet me hear;

But I wyste he wold faylle verament:113 A gret oth the Persè swear.

At the laste a squyar of Northombelonde

Lokyde at his hand full ny,40

He was war ath114 the doughetie Doglas comynge: With him a myghtè meany,115

Both with spear, 'byll,' and brande:116117 Yt was a myghti sight to se. Hardyar men both off hart nar hande45 Wear not in Christiantè.

The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good

Withouten any fayle;118 The wear borne a-long be the watter a Twyde, Yth119 bowndes of Tividale.50

Leave off the brytlyng of the dear, he sayde,

And to your bowys look ye tayk good heed;120 For never sithe121 ye wear on your mothars borne Had ye never so mickle need.122

The dougheti Dogglas on a stede55

He rode all his men beforne;123 His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede;124 A bolder barne125 was never born.

Tell me 'what' men ye ar, he says,126 Or whos men that ye be:60 Who gave youe leave to hunte in this Chyviat chays in the spyt of me?

The first mane that ever him an answear mayd,

Yt was the good lord Persè:

We wyll not tell the 'what' men we ar, he says,12765 Nor whos men that we be; But we wyll hount hear in this chays In the spyte of thyne, and of the.

The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat

We have kyld, and cast128 to carry them a-way.70 Be my troth, sayd the doughtè Dogglas agayn,129 Ther-for the ton130 of us shall de this day.

Then sayd the doughtè Doglas

Unto the lord Persè:

To kyll all thes giltless men,75

A-las! it wear great pittè.

But, Persè, thowe art a lord of lande,

I am a yerle131 callyd within my contre; Let all our men uppone a parti132 stande; And do the battell off the and of me.80

Nowe Cristes cors133 on his crowne,134 sayd the lord Persè.135 Who-soever ther-to says nay. Be my troth, doughtè Doglas, he says, Thow shalt never se that day;

Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France,85

Nor for no man of a woman born,

But and136 fortune be my chance, I dar met him on man for on.137138

Then bespayke a squyar off Northombarlonde,

Ric. Wytharynton139 was his nam;90 It shall never be told in Sothe-Ynglonde, he says, To kyng Herry the fourth for sham.

I wat140 youe byn great lordes twaw,141 I am a poor squyar of lande; I wyll never se my captayne fyght on a fylde,95 And stande my-selffe, and looke on, But whyll I may my weppone welde, I wyll not 'fayl' both harte and hande.

That day, that day, that dredfull day:

The first Fit142 here I fynde.100 And youe143 wyll here any mor athe hountyng a the Chyviat, Yet ys ther mor behynde.