That oure kynge hede take on honde To wenden in to the holy londe To wynnen us heveriche blisse. 40 The messager to the pope com, And seyde that our kynge was ded: Ywis his herte was full gret: The Pope him self the lettre redde, Ant spec a word of gret Of Christendome he ber the flour." 45 The Pope to is chaumbre wende, For dol ne mihte he speke na more; 50 Ant after cardinals he sende, That muche couthen of Cristes lore, Bothe the lasse, ant eke the more, Bed hem bothe rede ant synge: Gret deol me myhte se thore, Mony mon is honde wrynge. The Pope of Peyters stod at is masse With ful gret solempnetè, Ther me con the soule blesse : 55 "Kyng Edward honoured thou be: 60 V. 43. ys is probably a contraction of in hys, or yn his. V. 55, 59, me, i. e. men; so in Robert of Gloucester, passim. God love thi sone come after the, Bringe to ende that thou hast bygonne, The holy crois y-mad of tree, So fain thou woldest hit hav y-wonne. "Jerusalem, thou hast i-lore The flour of al chivalrie Now kyng Edward liveth na more: He wolde ha rered up ful heyze 65 Oure banners, that bueth broht to grounde; 70 Wel! longe we mowe clepe and crie Er we a such kyng han y-founde." Nou is Edward of Carnarvan Then his fader, ne lasse of myht, Al Engelong for to wysse ant dyht; Of gode knyhtes darh him nout fail. 80 Thah mi tonge were mad of stel, Ant min herte yzote of bras, The godness myht y never telle, That with kyng Edward was: Kyng, as thou art cleped conquerour, 85 God bringe thi soule to the honour, Here follow in the original three lines more, which, as seemingly redundant, are thus appended, viz. That lasteth ay withouten ende, Bidde we God, ant oure Ledy to thilke blisse III. An original Ballad by Chaucer. THIS little sonnet, which hath escaped all the editors of Chaucer's works, is now printed for the first time from an ancient MS. in the Pepysian library, that contains many other poems of its venerable author. The versification is of that species which the French call Rondeau, very naturally Englished by our honest countrymen Round O. Though so early adopted by them, our ancestors had not the honour of inventing it: Chaucer picked it up, along with other better things, among the neighbouring nations. A fondness for laborious trifles hath always prevailed in the dark ages of literature. The Greek poets have had their wings and axes: the great father of English poesy may therefore be pardoned one poor solitary rondeau. Geofrey Chaucer died Oct. 25, 1400, aged 72. I. 1. YOURE two eyn will sle me sodenly I may the beaute of them not sustene, So wendeth it thorowout my herte kene. 2. And but your words will helen hastely For with my deth the trouth shal be sene. Youre two eyn, &c. II. 1. So hath youre beauty fro your herte chased 2. Giltless my deth thus have ye purchased; ཉ་ Alas, that nature hath in yow compassed So grete beaute, that no man may atteyn To mercy, though he sterve for the peyn. So hath youre beaute, &c. III. 1. Syn I fro love escaped am so fat, He 2. may answere, and sey this and that, I do no fors, I speak ryght as I mene; Syn I fro love escaped am so fat. 3. Love hath my name i-strike out of his sclat, 1 This. MS. IV. The Turnament of Tottenham ; OR, THE WOOEING, WINNING, AND WEDDING OF TIBBE, THE REEV'S DAVGHTER THERE. It does honour to the good sense of this nation, that while all Europe was captivated with the bewitching charms of chivalry and romance, two of our writers in the rudest times could see through the false glare that surrounded them, and discover whatever was absurd in them both. Chaucer wrote his Rhyme of Sir Thopas in ridicule of the latter; and in the following poem we have a humorous burlesque of the former. Without pretending to decide whether the institution of chivalry was upon the whole useful or pernicious in the rude ages, a question that has lately employed many good writers', it evidently encou 1 See [Mr. Hurd's] Letters on Chivalry, 8vo. 1762. Mémoire de la Chevalerie, par M. de la Curne des Palais, 1759, 2 tom. 12mo, &c. |