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 | [The Castell of laboure by Alexander Barclay] |  |
Beynge
in this perturbacyon
This churle on me gaped full wyde
I fered sore his intencyon
whan that I sawe hym by my syde
He loked as he had ben fryed
Of shape and colour he was ful vyle
Than he began with me to chyde
In his langage whiche was subtyle
This churle on me gaped full wyde
I fered sore his intencyon
whan that I sawe hym by my syde
He loked as he had ben fryed
Of shape and colour he was ful vyle
Than he began with me to chyde
In his langage whiche was subtyle
Upon my bely he set his knees
And sayde his name was heuynesse
wyth scarled bordred were his iyes
Bolde and full of vnlustynsse
He semed fader of all vnthryftynesse
Iagged and gardyd full vngay.
with a face fylled with falsnesse
Berdyd lyke to a kytlynge of may.
And sayde his name was heuynesse
Bolde and full of vnlustynsse
He semed fader of all vnthryftynesse
Iagged and gardyd full vngay.
with a face fylled with falsnesse
Berdyd lyke to a kytlynge of may.
Hym to beholde I was dismayde
Howe he of thynges fast dyd clatter
Many a newe tale to me he sayde
He had well lerned for to patter
Of thynges to come fast dyd he chatter
Byddynge me call them to remēbraunce
He lyst no thynge with me to flatter
But put me to extreme vtteraunce.
Howe he of thynges fast dyd clatter
Many a newe tale to me he sayde
He had well lerned for to patter
Of thynges to come fast dyd he chatter
Byddynge me call them to remēbraunce
He lyst no thynge with me to flatter
But put me to extreme vtteraunce.
He bad I shulde remember my dettes
And brought me forthe my countynge boke
He shewed me there of my receptes
And me compelled theron to loke
By fere constrayned my body quoke
That powre was past me for to speke
That rybawde fered me with his loke
That conforte to me coude I none toke.
And brought me forthe my countynge boke
He shewed me there of my receptes
And me compelled theron to loke
By fere constrayned my body quoke
That powre was past me for to speke
That rybawde fered me with his loke
That conforte to me coude I none toke.
Of his turmente what sholde I say
I neuer was in suche encumbraunce
He bode styll and went nat away
And dyd me moche more greuaunce
Than all the other by theyr noysaunce
And turned me fro syde to syde
To slepe he lefte me no suffraunce
But fersely styll at me dyd chyde
I neuer was in suche encumbraunce
He bode styll and went nat away
And dyd me moche more greuaunce
Than all the other by theyr noysaunce
To slepe he lefte me no suffraunce
But fersely styll at me dyd chyde
This false caytyf by his cruelnesse
Troubled me that my wyt was gone
He put me in so great distresse
That my herte was colde as any stone.
I knewe nat to whome me for to mone
So was I enuyroned rounde aboute.
They me tourmented so echone
That of my lyfe I had great doute.
Troubled me that my wyt was gone
He put me in so great distresse
That my herte was colde as any stone.
I knewe nat to whome me for to mone
So was I enuyroned rounde aboute.
They me tourmented so echone
That of my lyfe I had great doute.
Than rounde aboute me dyd I loke
Fyrste of all sawe I pouerte
And fals nede by the berde me shoke.
There were dystresse and necessyte.
Thought was in theyr companye.
And heuynesse dyd clater faste
All these six so layde at me.
That fro my bed they me nere caste.
Fyrste of all sawe I pouerte
There were dystresse and necessyte.
Thought was in theyr companye.
And heuynesse dyd clater faste
All these six so layde at me.
That fro my bed they me nere caste.
Than as I dyd my hede remeue
About me lokynge for confort
I sawe one come/whiche dyd me greue.
More than all the other sorte.
He sayde his name was disconforte.
Of colour was he pale and wan
It nought auayled hym to exorte.
I sawe neuer suche another man.
About me lokynge for confort
I sawe one come/whiche dyd me greue.
More than all the other sorte.
He sayde his name was disconforte.
Of colour was he pale and wan
It nought auayled hym to exorte.
I sawe neuer suche another man.
By the hande fast he me toke
And with great myght dyd me constrayne
Full sore me by the berde he shoke
This thefe renewed all my payne
His encumbraunce wasted my brayne
That often I wysshed that I were dede
He wolde hym selfe no thynge refayne.
But kept me styll fast by the hede
And with great myght dyd me constrayne
Full sore me by the berde he shoke
This thefe renewed all my payne
His encumbraunce wasted my brayne
That often I wysshed that I were dede
He wolde hym selfe no thynge refayne.
But kept me styll fast by the hede
In frowarde imaginacion
Disconforte kept me a longe space.
He bad me in conclusyon
To sue to hym after his grace.
Saynge that the tyme and space
Onys lost coude nat recouered be.
with suche termes dyd he me manase
Than in conclusyon thus sayde he.
Disconforte kept me a longe space.
He bad me in conclusyon
To sue to hym after his grace.
Saynge that the tyme and space
with suche termes dyd he me manase
Than in conclusyon thus sayde he.
A pore man howe shalt thou pay
All thy dettes that ar behynde.
Brede and drynke must thou puruay.
And a hous to kepe the fro the wynde
Bothe men & maydens must thou fynde.
with euery thynge that longeth them to
Doth nat fortune strongly the bynde.
Nowe let se howe thou canst do.
All thy dettes that ar behynde.
Brede and drynke must thou puruay.
And a hous to kepe the fro the wynde
Bothe men & maydens must thou fynde.
with euery thynge that longeth them to
Doth nat fortune strongly the bynde.
Nowe let se howe thou canst do.
whan I this harde I was nere mad.
And often fortune cursed I.
The speciall cause why I was sad.
was for my purse was clene empty
Than was it nede I dyd espye
My gowne to plege vnto one
I sawe there was no remedye
Thought that I had but that alone
And often fortune cursed I.
The speciall cause why I was sad.
was for my purse was clene empty
Than was it nede I dyd espye
My gowne to plege vnto one
I sawe there was no remedye
Thought that I had but that alone
O blessed iesu what may this be
Maryed was I in an euyll chaunce.
To lyue in suche pouertye.
As I this sayde the same instaunce.
Cam to me Dispayre in cruell ordynaunce.
One of the worste of all the sorte.
She was cheyf captayne of theyr daunce
And doughter vnto Disconforte.
Maryed was I in an euyll chaunce.
To lyue in suche pouertye.
As I this sayde the same instaunce.
Cam to me Dispayre in cruell ordynaunce.
One of the worste of all the sorte.
She was cheyf captayne of theyr daunce
And doughter vnto Disconforte.
This dispayre dyd me so assayle.
That loste was my discressyon.
My face began to wax pale
By fere of hyr cruell vexacion.
So cruell was hyr perturbacion.
whiche on me she dyd extende.
That I thought in conclusion
Of my selfe to make an ende.
That loste was my discressyon.
My face began to wax pale
By fere of hyr cruell vexacion.
So cruell was hyr perturbacion.
whiche on me she dyd extende.
That I thought in conclusion
Of my selfe to make an ende.
I was redy to renne here & there.
To clym vp a hye and than to fall
By my lyfe set I nat an here.
By meanes of this fury infernall
I thought/who nedis to his deth shall.
It is but folye it to prolonge
This is a worde sayde ouer all.
He that is drowned may no man hange.
To clym vp a hye and than to fall
By my lyfe set I nat an here.
By meanes of this fury infernall
I thought/who nedis to his deth shall.
This is a worde sayde ouer all.
He that is drowned may no man hange.
And therfore thought I for to do
The worste that outher I coude or myght
To sie my fader and moder also
If I had founde them in my syght
Than vnto my mynde cam full ryght
That I shulde dye no more but onys
wherfore Dyspayre that wretched wyght
Bad me go therto at onys.
The worste that outher I coude or myght
To sie my fader and moder also
If I had founde them in my syght
Than vnto my mynde cam full ryght
That I shulde dye no more but onys
wherfore Dyspayre that wretched wyght
Bad me go therto at onys.
I sawe well that without labour
I neuer shulde obteyne rychesse.
Fortune therof is gouernour
To some she gyueth with largesse
But I haue neyther mor nor lesse
So that I wery am of my lyfe
Auoyde of ioy full of distresse.
Lo what it is to take a wyfe
I neuer shulde obteyne rychesse.
Fortune therof is gouernour
To some she gyueth with largesse
But I haue neyther mor nor lesse
So that I wery am of my lyfe
Auoyde of ioy full of distresse.
Lo what it is to take a wyfe
I se disconforte doth me gerue
Dispayre encreaseth my langour
That fote ne hande may I remeue
Suche is my payne and my dolour
Neyther thought I on worshyp ne honour
On knyght/squyer/baron nor lorde
My mynde was on no thynge that houre
But to hange my selfe with a corde.
Dispayre encreaseth my langour
That fote ne hande may I remeue
Suche is my payne and my dolour
Neyther thought I on worshyp ne honour
On knyght/squyer/baron nor lorde
My mynde was on no thynge that houre
But to hange my selfe with a corde.
Or elles to lepe in to some ryuer
And there with payne my selfe to drowne
I fered nat in what manere
I dyed/so that my lyfe were done
Dispayre made me hyr campyon
And had me so take in hyr snare
That sodeynly as I fell in sowne
She me nere strangled or I was ware.
And there with payne my selfe to drowne
I fered nat in what manere
I dyed/so that my lyfe were done
Dispayre made me hyr campyon
And had me so take in hyr snare
That sodeynly as I fell in sowne
She me nere strangled or I was ware.
| [The Castell of laboure by Alexander Barclay] | |