The pityfull Historie of two Louing Italians, Gaulfrido and Barnardo le vayne which ariued in the countrey of Grece, in the time of the noble Emperoure Vaspasian. And Translated out of Italian into Englishe meeter by John Drout |
The pityfull Historie of two Louing Italians, Gaulfrido and Barnardo le vayne | ||
At sodayne sight of this the Iudge
was wholly there amazde,
Then hurly burly did begin,
great rumors straight was raysde:
Then euery man would be a iudge,
and say that it was he
That did the deede: some verdits were
the other for to be.
But God the truest searcher of
the inwarde parts of man,
The mightie Iudge, the Lord of all
that possibly we can
Or may recite, with foultring tong
for his he dooth prouide.
When they be in their troubles great,
as heere it may be tride:
The murderer stood by the stage
whereas the iudges sate,
His conscience so prickt him there,
that vp aloft he gate
Afore them all, where rudely he
did draw his bloodie blade,
Where easely it might be seene
how it in blud was layde:
This vile and cankred sword (quoth he)
and I were at the fray,
I am the man (ye Iudges) that
did bring him to a bay,
I laide along his laysie corps,
I do it not denye,
And if it were to do agayne,
by God that sittes on hye,
I would it do: wherfore these men
haue suffered iniurie,
Abiding for my onely deede
suche cruell miserie.
Upon the which the iudges they
began a new assise,
And better for to thinke vpon
the matter they deuise:
The quest agayne begins a fresh
vpon these two to goe,
The standers by they giue good eare
the verdit for to knowe,
The foreman he doth bring it in,
he sheweth very playne
The matter whole: but to be sure
they are turnde backe agayne.
Yet once more they do come, wher as
they tolde the iudge that he
That last of all did come in place,
the murderer for to be.
The Iudge he did condemne him there,
the hangman he did watche,
He thought within him selfe that he
had caught a goodly catche.
Where when the people heard him say,
go hence the gallowes stayes,
Their wits in searching foorth the truth,
all there began to prayse.
The Iudges prayse doth flee abrode,
him euery man doth name,
In countrey, towne and villages
full rife is knowne his fame.
The foresaide Mariners reioyce,
their mates eche one be glad,
That these their heads had scapt so wel:
vpon the which they bad
The towns men with their gladsom wiues
their housholds whole and some,
To take their pleasures of the wine
if they would to them come,
Whereas their ship did lye, which brought
the claret, white and red,
Their bisket good, but mouldy cheese,
whereof they dayly fed.
Eche one attended to their willes,
they graunted their desire,
They clothe them selues full sumptuously,
they weare their best attyre:
The day is come, the pretty dames
which be so free and franke,
Do go so sagely on the way
by two and two a ranke,
Which seemed well, but yet they would
not bid vnto the feast
The Murderer which hanged was,
of whom they thought on least,
Which was of them an ouersight:
but if they him had bid,
He would haue made them answere none,
bicause that he had rid
But lately here, one winching iade,
which did him leaue behinde,
So that the right way to his home
he could not after finde:
But in his stead one Tibine came,
Amasina his wife,
His daughter fayre Charina, whome
they loued as theyr lyfe,
Who dyd surmount the virgins all
that euer was in Greece:
I thinke the goddes neuer made
a fayre or trimmer peece:
They coulde not, why? bycause the moulde
(whiche was with them so rare)
Them selues had lost: when first they made
hir rosiall colour fayre,
Hir princely corps, hir shoulders twayne,
hir stature long and tall:
Hir little head adorned was,
whiche ouerlooketh all:
With gorgious knackes of value greate
hir fingers to depaynt,
Apelles ours, or Xeuxes good,
she woulde make for to faynt,
The better of them bothe, if that
they were on earth alyue,
This to be done in euery poynt
mans witte can not contriue:
What though he tooke in hande to make
dame Venus in hir plight,
Yet durste he not set to his hande
with pensill for to wright
Or paynte at large this sumptuous dame
whome euery one dooth vewe:
Nay, if he shoulde, he myght perchaunce
his hastinesse soone rewe,
He woulde bee rapt in amours then
farre further with this dame,
Than euer he with Venus was,
if I may tell you playne.
But all this banket while: Bernard
hee cast a glimmering eye,
He was as glad as any man
when hir he myght espie.
Nowe all this whyle did Venus smyle,
and Cupide craftie knaue:
Sreight Bernards heart was stroke wt dart,
and suche a blowe he gaue,
As none but that Charina she:
Coulde helpe hym, I am sure,
No physickes arte, but she alone
was able for to cure
His pangs, his pangs, his fretting pangs
which vexed him so sore:
A worser plague hath chaunced now
than euer dyd before:
Nowe is he driuen to study harde,
he dares not to hir speake,
His bloody heart it was so full
that it was lyke to breake:
But for all that he kept them tacke
what euer that they did.
Till that the night with mantle blacke
the splendant light had hyd:
For all that Nox was comming on,
and Vesper after hyed,
A little whyle yet did they staye
bicause they had espied
The bycornd Moone: who was at hand
to light them on their way,
The minstrell he was called in
some pretty iest to play:
Then Robin hood was called for,
and malkin ere they went:
But Barnard euer to the mayde
a louing looke he lent,
And he would very fayne haue daunst
with hir, if that he durst:
As he was offering, Galfryd caught
hir by the hand at furst,
Who being in as farre as one
he was not to be blamde:
But this same dorre his freend abode,
of which he was ashamde,
There nought he said, but laught as fast
as any of them did:
When they had done, he toke the mayd,
a galliarde he did bid:
The minstrels play in comely sort,
he led hir twice about,
Then hir be capt, she cursie made
afore the open rout:
He trips about with sincopace,
he capers very quicke,
Full trimly there of seuen aleuen,
he sheweth a pretty tricke:
Eche man they did behold him there,
hir father likes it well:
Amasina hir mother saide
that he should beare the bell.
These words made glad the yongmās hart,
the minstrels left to play,
He gaue to hir the curtesie
that dauncers vse to pay.
They do depart, they hye them home,
they thanke them for their cheere,
The pretty maide she commeth on,
to them she draweth neere,
With cursies two or three she doth
giue thanks vnto them both:
But that she should them shortly see
at home she would be loth.
Now for hir gentle curtesie
a hundred thanks they giue:
Ere two dayes past they saide they would,
if they so long did liue.
Now all the way they haue no talke,
but of these louing twayne:
Eche one they ioyed that these two
were ridden of their payne.
An olde saide saw it is the which
is spoken of euery one,
The lesser greefe exiled is,
a greater comes anone.
These troubled two they go to bed,
where they on fansies fed,
The one he thinks vpon the mayde,
the other thinks in deed
That he was blest when he might
by any meanes deuise,
Once for to see with rouing sight
that dame before his eyes:
They turne and tosse in bed full oft,
from side to side agayne,
Now one would vp, the other downe,
but nought would ease their payne.
At last the Rauens did discry
Aurora to be neere,
Then vp they goe in comely wise
eche one puts on his geere:
They hyed to the wished place
where as the virgin lay,
Galfrydo saw she was not vp,
he went him selfe away,
Barnard le vayne he taryed still,
he saw that did him please,
He trudged home full merily,
his feuers did appease.
Galfrydo whippeth out anone,
he goeth to hir round:
Barnard he after hyes apace,
where that same time he found
Galfrydo talking soberly
vnto the mayde alone:
Barnard he thought his part was lost,
his loue away was blowne,
Of him he thought no count was made
he durst not shew his minde
To hir, who euer loude him well,
as by due proofe we finde:
He doubts she will not graunt to him
that which he would desire,
He durst not shew his inward greefe
which burneth as the fyre:
But to his chamber straight he goes
where vp and downe he walks
In torments great, in fretting pangs,
vnto him selfe he talkes:
O God (quoth he) what makes my head
to be so farre at square,
My wittes be almost rauished,
suche is my greeuous care.
But to asswage that dolefulnesse
that heauinesse of minde,
He taketh penne in hand to write
to hir, some ease to finde.
was wholly there amazde,
Then hurly burly did begin,
great rumors straight was raysde:
Then euery man would be a iudge,
and say that it was he
That did the deede: some verdits were
the other for to be.
But God the truest searcher of
the inwarde parts of man,
The mightie Iudge, the Lord of all
that possibly we can
Or may recite, with foultring tong
for his he dooth prouide.
as heere it may be tride:
The murderer stood by the stage
whereas the iudges sate,
His conscience so prickt him there,
that vp aloft he gate
Afore them all, where rudely he
did draw his bloodie blade,
Where easely it might be seene
how it in blud was layde:
This vile and cankred sword (quoth he)
and I were at the fray,
I am the man (ye Iudges) that
did bring him to a bay,
I laide along his laysie corps,
I do it not denye,
And if it were to do agayne,
by God that sittes on hye,
I would it do: wherfore these men
haue suffered iniurie,
Abiding for my onely deede
suche cruell miserie.
Upon the which the iudges they
began a new assise,
And better for to thinke vpon
the matter they deuise:
The quest agayne begins a fresh
vpon these two to goe,
the verdit for to knowe,
The foreman he doth bring it in,
he sheweth very playne
The matter whole: but to be sure
they are turnde backe agayne.
Yet once more they do come, wher as
they tolde the iudge that he
That last of all did come in place,
the murderer for to be.
The Iudge he did condemne him there,
the hangman he did watche,
He thought within him selfe that he
had caught a goodly catche.
Where when the people heard him say,
go hence the gallowes stayes,
Their wits in searching foorth the truth,
all there began to prayse.
The Iudges prayse doth flee abrode,
him euery man doth name,
In countrey, towne and villages
full rife is knowne his fame.
The foresaide Mariners reioyce,
their mates eche one be glad,
That these their heads had scapt so wel:
vpon the which they bad
The towns men with their gladsom wiues
their housholds whole and some,
if they would to them come,
Whereas their ship did lye, which brought
the claret, white and red,
Their bisket good, but mouldy cheese,
whereof they dayly fed.
Eche one attended to their willes,
they graunted their desire,
They clothe them selues full sumptuously,
they weare their best attyre:
The day is come, the pretty dames
which be so free and franke,
Do go so sagely on the way
by two and two a ranke,
Which seemed well, but yet they would
not bid vnto the feast
The Murderer which hanged was,
of whom they thought on least,
Which was of them an ouersight:
but if they him had bid,
He would haue made them answere none,
bicause that he had rid
But lately here, one winching iade,
which did him leaue behinde,
So that the right way to his home
he could not after finde:
But in his stead one Tibine came,
Amasina his wife,
they loued as theyr lyfe,
Who dyd surmount the virgins all
that euer was in Greece:
I thinke the goddes neuer made
a fayre or trimmer peece:
They coulde not, why? bycause the moulde
(whiche was with them so rare)
Them selues had lost: when first they made
hir rosiall colour fayre,
Hir princely corps, hir shoulders twayne,
hir stature long and tall:
Hir little head adorned was,
whiche ouerlooketh all:
With gorgious knackes of value greate
hir fingers to depaynt,
Apelles ours, or Xeuxes good,
she woulde make for to faynt,
The better of them bothe, if that
they were on earth alyue,
This to be done in euery poynt
mans witte can not contriue:
What though he tooke in hande to make
dame Venus in hir plight,
Yet durste he not set to his hande
with pensill for to wright
Or paynte at large this sumptuous dame
whome euery one dooth vewe:
his hastinesse soone rewe,
He woulde bee rapt in amours then
farre further with this dame,
Than euer he with Venus was,
if I may tell you playne.
But all this banket while: Bernard
hee cast a glimmering eye,
He was as glad as any man
when hir he myght espie.
Nowe all this whyle did Venus smyle,
and Cupide craftie knaue:
Sreight Bernards heart was stroke wt dart,
and suche a blowe he gaue,
As none but that Charina she:
Coulde helpe hym, I am sure,
No physickes arte, but she alone
was able for to cure
His pangs, his pangs, his fretting pangs
which vexed him so sore:
A worser plague hath chaunced now
than euer dyd before:
Nowe is he driuen to study harde,
he dares not to hir speake,
His bloody heart it was so full
that it was lyke to breake:
But for all that he kept them tacke
what euer that they did.
the splendant light had hyd:
For all that Nox was comming on,
and Vesper after hyed,
A little whyle yet did they staye
bicause they had espied
The bycornd Moone: who was at hand
to light them on their way,
The minstrell he was called in
some pretty iest to play:
Then Robin hood was called for,
and malkin ere they went:
But Barnard euer to the mayde
a louing looke he lent,
And he would very fayne haue daunst
with hir, if that he durst:
As he was offering, Galfryd caught
hir by the hand at furst,
Who being in as farre as one
he was not to be blamde:
But this same dorre his freend abode,
of which he was ashamde,
There nought he said, but laught as fast
as any of them did:
When they had done, he toke the mayd,
a galliarde he did bid:
The minstrels play in comely sort,
he led hir twice about,
afore the open rout:
He trips about with sincopace,
he capers very quicke,
Full trimly there of seuen aleuen,
he sheweth a pretty tricke:
Eche man they did behold him there,
hir father likes it well:
Amasina hir mother saide
that he should beare the bell.
These words made glad the yongmās hart,
the minstrels left to play,
He gaue to hir the curtesie
that dauncers vse to pay.
They do depart, they hye them home,
they thanke them for their cheere,
The pretty maide she commeth on,
to them she draweth neere,
With cursies two or three she doth
giue thanks vnto them both:
But that she should them shortly see
at home she would be loth.
Now for hir gentle curtesie
a hundred thanks they giue:
Ere two dayes past they saide they would,
if they so long did liue.
Now all the way they haue no talke,
but of these louing twayne:
were ridden of their payne.
An olde saide saw it is the which
is spoken of euery one,
The lesser greefe exiled is,
a greater comes anone.
These troubled two they go to bed,
where they on fansies fed,
The one he thinks vpon the mayde,
the other thinks in deed
That he was blest when he might
by any meanes deuise,
Once for to see with rouing sight
that dame before his eyes:
They turne and tosse in bed full oft,
from side to side agayne,
Now one would vp, the other downe,
but nought would ease their payne.
At last the Rauens did discry
Aurora to be neere,
Then vp they goe in comely wise
eche one puts on his geere:
They hyed to the wished place
where as the virgin lay,
Galfrydo saw she was not vp,
he went him selfe away,
Barnard le vayne he taryed still,
he saw that did him please,
his feuers did appease.
Galfrydo whippeth out anone,
he goeth to hir round:
Barnard he after hyes apace,
where that same time he found
Galfrydo talking soberly
vnto the mayde alone:
Barnard he thought his part was lost,
his loue away was blowne,
Of him he thought no count was made
he durst not shew his minde
To hir, who euer loude him well,
as by due proofe we finde:
He doubts she will not graunt to him
that which he would desire,
He durst not shew his inward greefe
which burneth as the fyre:
But to his chamber straight he goes
where vp and downe he walks
In torments great, in fretting pangs,
vnto him selfe he talkes:
O God (quoth he) what makes my head
to be so farre at square,
My wittes be almost rauished,
suche is my greeuous care.
But to asswage that dolefulnesse
that heauinesse of minde,
to hir, some ease to finde.
The pityfull Historie of two Louing Italians, Gaulfrido and Barnardo le vayne | ||