A
new Interlude called Thersites
interlude following
declare how that the
boasters are not
greatest
names of the players
boaster.
smith.
mother.
knight.
child.
commeth in first having a club upon his neck.
in a ruffler forth of the Greek land
Thersites. If you will me know.
Give me room, in my way do you not stand
if you do, I will soon lay you low.
Homer of my acts you have read, I trow:
Agamenon nor Ulysses, I spared to check,
could not bring me to be at their back.
late from the siege of Troy I returned
all my harns except this club I lost:
an old house there it was quite burned,
I was preparing vittles for the host.
must needs get me new, whatsoever it cost.
will go seek adventures, for I cannot be idle
will hamper some of the knaves in a bridle.
grieveth me to hear how the knaves do brag,
by supreme Jupiter, when I am harnessed well
shall make the dasters to run into a bag
hide them from me, as from the devil of hell
doubt not but hereafter, of me you shall hear tell
I have made the knaves for to play couch quail.
now to the shop of Mulciber, to go I will not fail.
must
have a shop made in the place, and Thersites cometh before it saying
aloud:
whom the poets doth call thee god of fire,
unto Jupiter, king over all,
forth, of thy office I thee desire,
grant me my petition. I ask a thing but small:
will none of thy lightning, that thou art wont to make
the gods supernal for you’re when they do shake
which they thrust the giants down to hell
were at a convention heaven to buy and sell.
I would have some help of Lemnos and Ilua
of their steel, by thy craft, condatur mihi galea.
fellow Thersites, do you speak Latin now?
then farewell, I make god a vow
do not you understand, no Latin is in my palat.
then he must do as he would go away.
say abide, good Mulciber, I pray you make me a sallet.
Thersites hast thou any wit in thy head?
thou have a sallet now, all the herbs are dead
that it is not meat for a smith
gather herbs and sallets to meddle with.
get them to my lover Venus,
hath sallets enough for all us
eat none such sallets for now I wax old
for my stomach they are very cold.
I pray to Jupiter that thou die a cuckold.
mean a sallet with which men do fight.
is a small tasting of a man’s might
he should for any matter
with a few herbs in a platter
great loud should follow that victory.
passion, Mulciber! Where is thy wit and memory?
would have a sallet made of steel.
sir,
in your stomach long you shall it feel,
steel is hard for to digest.
bones and sides, he is worse than a beast.
woulde have a sallet to wear on my head,
under my chin with a thong red
shall be.
thou yet perceive me?
mind now I see.
thou push ladde?
thou almost mad?
well in thy wit?
thee a wallet,
thou have a sallet?
wouldest thou do with it?
pray the good Mulciber make no more bones,
let me have a sallet made at ones.
must do somewhat for this knave.
manner of sallet, sir, would you have?
would have such a one that neither might nor mayne
pierce it through, or part it in twain,
neither gonst one, nor sharp spear
be able either to hurt or tear.
would have it also for to save my head
Jupiter himself would have me dead.
if he in a fume, would cast at me his fire
sallet I would have to keep me from his ire.
perceive your mind.
shall find me kind.
will for you prepare
then he goeth in to his shop, and maketh a
for him at the last he sayth.
Thersites, do this sallet wear
on thy head it bear
none shall work the care.
Mulciber goeth into his shop, until he is called again.
would I not fear with any bull to fight
with a ramping lion neither by day nor night.
What great strength is in my body so lusty
for lack of exercise, is now almost rusty.
in comparison to me was but a boy
the bandog Cerberus from hell he bear away
he killed the lions, hydra, and the bear so wild.
him to me and he was but a child.
Sampson I say, hast thou no more wit
you be as strong as I? Come suck thy mother’s teat
you that David that little elvish boy
with his sling have taken my life away
iwis Goliath, for all his few stones
would have quashed his little boysh bones!
how it would do my heart much good
see some of the giants before Noe’s flood!
would make the knaves to crycrake
else with my club their brains I will break!
Mulciber, yet I have not with the do:
head is armed, my neck I would have to,
also my shoulders with some good habergeon
the devil if he shot at me could not enter in,
I am determined great battle to make
my fumishness, by some means may ashake.
on this habergeon as fast as thou can,
fear for the metting of neither beast nor man.
it were possible for one to shoot an oak
habergeon will defend thee from the stroke.
them throw milestones at thee as thick as hail.
thee to kill they shall their purpose fail,
Malverve hylles should on thy shoulders light
shall not hurt thee, nor suppress thy might.
Bevis of Hampton, Colburn and Guy
thee assail, set not by them a fly
be brief, this habergeon shall thee save
by land and water, now play the lusty knave.
he goeth in to his shop again.
I consider my shoulders that so broad be,
the other parts of my body I do behold,
verly think that none in Christianity
me to meddle dare be so bold
have at the lions on cotswold
will neither spare for heat nor for cold.
art thou king Arthur, and the knights of the Round Table?
bring forth your horses out of the stable,
with me to meet they be not able.
the mass, they had rather were a bauble!
art thou, Gawyn the curtess and Cay the crabed?
be a couple of knights cowardish and scabbed
in thy likeness, sir Libeus disconius.
thou wilt have my club light on thy hedibus,
ye may see he heareth not the face
me to try a blow in this place.
sirra, approach, sir Lancelot de lake!
Run ye away and for fear quake?
he that did thee a knight make
never that thou any battle shouldest take.
you wilt not come thyself, some other of thy fellows send:
battle I provoke them, themselves let them defend
for all the good that ever they see
will not once set hand to fight with me.
good lord, how broad is my breast
strong with all for whole is my chest!
that should meddle with me shall have shrewd rest.
you my hands, my legs and my feet.
part is strong proportionable and meet.
you that I am not feared in field and street?
yes, God wote, they give me the wall
else with my club, I make them to fall.
knaves I say to them, then for fear they quake,
take me then to the tavern and good cheere me make.
proctor and his men I made to run their ways,
some went to hide them in broken haies.
tell you at a word,
set not a tord.
none of them all
and late I will walk,
London streets stalk.
of them, great and small,
I think verly
none in heaven so high
yet in hell so low
I have this club in my hand
be able me to withstand
me to overthrow!
Mulciber, yet I must thee desire
make me briggen irons for my arms,
then I will love thee as my own sire.
without them, I cannot be safe from all harms.
once had, I will not set a straw
all the world, for then I will by awe
all my mind, or else by the holy rood
will make them think, the devil carrieth them to the wood.
no man will with me battle take
voyage to hell quickly I will make.
there I will beat the devil and his dame,
bring the souls away, I fully intend the same.
that in hell I have ruffled so
to old Purgatory will I go.
will clean that so purge round about
we shall need no pardons to help them out.
I have not fight enough this ways
will climb to Heaven and fet away Peter’s keys.
will keep them myself, and let in a great route
should suche a fisher keep good fellows out.
here, Thersites, briggen irons bright.
fear thou no man manly to fight,
he be stronger than Hercules or Sampson.
thou prest and bold to set him upon
Amazon nor Xerxes with their whole rabble
to assail shall find it profitable.
warrant thee they will flee from thy face
doth an hare from the dogs in a chase.
not thy black and rusty grim beard
thou art so armed, make any man afeard.
if Jupiter did see thee in this gear,
woulde run away and hide him for fear.
would think that Typhoeus the giant were alive,
his brother Enceladus, again with him to strive.
that Mars of battle the God stout and bold
this array should chance thee to behold.
would yield up his sword unto thee
god of battle (he would say) thou shouldest be.
fare thou well, go the world through
seek adventures thou art man good enough.
while the stars shall shine in the sky
Phaeton’s horses with the son’s charret shall fly.
the morning shall go before noon
cause the darkenness to vanish away soon.
that the cat shall love well milk
while that women shall love to go in silk,
beggars have lice
cockneys are nice,
pardoners can lie
can buy
children cry,
all these last and more
I keep in store,
do me faithfully bind
kindness to bear in mind,
yet Mulciber one thing I ask more:
thou ever a sword now in store?
would have such a one that would cut stones
pare a great oak down at once
were a sword, lo, even for the nones.
I have such a one in my shop
will pare iron as it were a rope.
here it is, gird it to thy side.
fare thou well, Jupiter be thy guide.
Mulciber, with my whole heart
me thy hand and let us depart.
goeth in to his shop again, and Thersites saith forth.
I go hence, and put myself in prease
will seek adventures, yea, and that I will not cease
there be any present here this night
will take upon them with me to fight.
them come quickly, and the battle shall be pight!
is Cacus that knave? Not worth a groat
was wont to blow clouds out of his throat
stale Hercules kine and hid them in his cave.
hether, Cacus, thou lubber and false knave
will teach all wretches by thee to beware:
thou come hether I trap thee in a snare.
shalt have knocked bread and ill fare.
say you good godfather that looked so stale,
seem a man to be borne in the vale.
ye adventure with me a stripe or two?
coward, go hide thee as thou wast wont to do!
a sort of dastards have we here?
of you to battle with me dare appeare?
saiest you heart of gold, of countenance so demure?
you fight with me? No, I am right sure!
blush not woman, I will do you no harm,
I had you sooner to keep my back warm.
little pums, why are ye so sore afraid?
pray you show how long it is? Since ye were a maid
me in my ear, sirs, she hath me told
gone was her maidenhead at thirteen year old,
lady she was loath to keep it too long.
I were a maid again, now maybe here song
after my counsel of maidens the hoole beuye
red your maidenhead, for they are vengeance heuy.
let all go, why? Will none come in
me to fight that I may pare his skin?
Mater cometh in.
say you my son? Will ye fight? God it defend!
what cause to war do you now pretend?
ye commit to battles dangerous
life that is to me so precious?
will go, I will go. Stoppe not my way,
me not, good mother, I heartly you pray.
there be any lions, or other wild beast
will not suffer thee husband man in rest
will go search them and bid them to afeast.
shall aby bitterly the coming of such a gest.
will search for them both in bush and shrub,
lay on a lode with this lusty club.
my sweet son, I am thy mother:
thou kill me and thou hast none other?
mother, no, I am not of such iniquity
I will defile my hands upon thee.
be content, mother, for I will not rest
I haue fought with some man or wild beast.
my son, if that ye take this way
shall be the conclusion, mark what I shall say:
I will drown myself for sorrow
feed fishes with my body before tomorrow,
with a sharp sword, surely I will me kill.
thou mayst save me, if it be thy will
will also cut my paps away
gave the suck so many a day,
so in all the world it shall be known
by my own son I was overthrown.
if my life be to the pleasant
which I desire, good son, do me grant.
thou spendest thy wind but in wast,
goddes of battle her fury on me hath cast.
am fully fixed battle for to taste.
how many to death I shall drive in haste!
will ruffle this club about my head
else I pray God I never die in my bed.
shall never a stroke be stroken with my hand
they shall thinke it Jupiter doth thunder in ye land.
own sweet son, I kneeling on my knee
both my hands holding up to the
thee to cease and no battle make
to the patience and better ways take!
mother, I am deaf: I will thee not hear,
no, if Jupiter here himself now were
all the goddesses, and Juno his wife
loving Minerva that abhorreth all strife;
all these I say, would desire me to be content
did their wind but invain spent.
will have battle in Wales or in Kent
some of the knaves I will all too rent.
is the valiant knight sir Isenbrase?
sir, I pray you, dare ye not show your face!
is Robin John and little Hood?
hither quickly: if ye think it good
will teach such outlaws with Christ’s curses
they take hereafter away abbots purses!
will no adventure appear in this place?
is Hercules with his great mass?
is Buspris, that fed his horses
like a tyrant, with dead mens’ corses?
any of you both
I make an oath
yer I eat any bread
will drive a wain
for need twain
your body and your head!
passeth my brains!
none take the pains
try with me a blow?
what a fellow am I
every man doth fly
doth me but once know.
all do you fear
be present here.
will not with you fight
as you be worthy.
now the victory
tasting of your might!
is none, I trow,
profereth you a blow,
woman nor child.
not set your mind
fight with the wind,
not so mad nor wild.
say arise whosoever will fight!
am to battle here ready dight:
hither other swain or knight,
me see who dare present him to my sight.
with my club ready I stand,
any will come to take them in hand.
is no hope left in my breast
bring my son unto better rest.
will do nothing at my request,
regardeth me no more than a beast.
see no remedy, but still I will pray
God, my son to guide in his way
he may have a prosperous journeying
to be save at his returning.
God above grant this my oration
when in battle thou shalt have concertation
your enemies, other far or near
wound in them nor in you may appear,
that ye neither kill nor be killed.
thy petition I pray God be fulfilled,
then no knaves blood shall be spilled:
keep my counsel, by the mass, I do but crake,
will be gentle enough and no business make,
yet I will make her believe that I am a man.
you that I will fight? No no, but with thee can
I find my enemy on this wise
he be asleep or else cannot arise
his arms and his feet be not fast bound,
will not proffer a stripe for a thousand pounds.
mother, and tarry here no longer,
after proves of chivalry I do both thirst and hunger
will hear the knaves as flat as a conger.
the mother goeth in the place which is prepareth for her.
how long shall I tarry? Be your hearts in your hose,
there none of you in battle me appose?
prove me why stand you so in doubt!
you any wild bloud, that ye would have let out^
lacke that a man’s strength cannot be known
that he lacketh enemies to be overthrown.
a snail must appear unto him, and he must look fearfully upon the
snail, saying:
what a monster do I see now
hetherward with an armed brow?
is it? Ah, it is a sow!
by gods body it is but a grestle,
on the back it hath never a bristle.
is not a cow, ah, there I fail,
then it should have a long tail.
the devil, I was blind, it is but a snail
was never so afraid in east nor in south,
heart at the first sight was at my mouth!
sir, fie, fie, fie! I do sweat for fear:
thought I had craked but too timely here
thou beest and pluck in thy horns,
I swear by him that crowned was with thorns
will make thee drink worse than good ale in it corns!
thou! Nothing else to do
come with horns and face me so!
how my servants, get you shield and spear
let us weary and kill this monster here!
Miles cometh in.
not this a worthy knight
with a snail dareth not fight
he have his servants’ aid?
this the champion that maketh all men afraid?
am a poor soldier come of late from Calice,
trust or I go to debate some of his malice?
will tarry my time till I do see
him and the snail what the end will be.
ye horeson knavish, regard ye not my calling?
do ye not come and with you weapons bring?
shall this monster so escape killing
that he shall not and god be willing?
promise you, this is as worthy a knight
ever shall breed out of a bottle bite!
think he be Dares of whom Virgil doth write
would not let entellus alone
ever provoked and ever called on,
yet at the last he took a fall
so within a while, I trow I make thee shall.
God’s passion, knaves, if I come I will you fetter!
ye my calling and crying no better!
horesons I say, will ye not come
the mass? The knaves be all from home
had better have fette me an etrande at Rome!
my troth, I think that very skant
lubber dare adventure to fight with an ant.
seeing my servants come to me will not
must take heed that this monster me spill not.
will jeopard with it a joint
other with my club or my sword’s pointe
will reach it such wounds
I would not have for 40 pounds.
in thy horns thou unhappy beast!
facest thou me? Wilt not thou be in rest?
Wilt not thou thy horns in hold?
thou that I am a cuckold?
arms, the monster cometh toward me still!
I fight manfully, it will me surely kill!
he must sight against the snail with his club.
Jupiter Lord! Dost thou not see and hear
he feareth the snail as it were a bear?
with my club I have had good luck,
with my sword have at thee a pluck,
he must cast his club away.
will make thee or I go, for to duck
thou were as tale a man as friar suck.
say yet again, thy horns in draw
else I will make thee to have wounds raw!
not thou afeard
have thy beard
with my sword?
he must fight, then with his sword against the snail, and the snail
draweth her horns in.
well, now no more!
mightest have done so before.
layed at it so sore
it thought it should have be lore,
it had not drawn in his horns again,
I would the monster have slain.
now farewell, I will work thee no more pain,
my fume is past
doth no longer last
I did to the monster cast.
in other countreys both far and near
deeds of chivalry I will go inquire.
needs not seek any further, for ready I am here.
will debate anon, I trow, thy bragging cheer.
where is any more that will me assail?
will turn him and toss him both top and tail,
he be stronger than Sampson was
with his bare hande killed lions apas.
needeth this boost? I am here at hand
with thee will fight! Keep the head and stand
for all thy hye words I will not fear
assay thee a touch till some blood appear.
will give thee somewhat for the gift of a new year.
he beginth to fight with him, but Thersites must run away, and hide
him behind his mother’s back, saying:
mother mother, I pray thee me hide
something over me and cover me every side!
my son, what thing eldyth thee?
a thousand horsemen do prosecute me!
son! Then it was time to fly,
blame thee not then, though afraid thou be
deadly wound thou mightest there soon catch
against so many, is no indifferent match.
mother, but if they had bent but ten to one
would not have avoided but set them upon.
seeing they be so many I ran away,
me mother, hide me, I heartly thee pray
if they come hither and here me find,
their horses’ tails they will me bind
after that fashion hall me and kill me,
though I were never so bold and stout
fight against so many, I should stand in doubt.
that dost seek giants to conquer
forth if thou dare, and in this place appear!
for shame dost thou so soon take flight?
forth and show somewhat of thy might!
me, mother, hide me, and never word say!
old trot, seest thou any man come this way
armed and weaponed and ready to fight?
forsooth Master, there came none in my sight.
did avoid in time, for without doubts
would have set on his back some clouts.
I may take him I will make all slouches
beware by him, that they come not in my clouches.
he goeth out, and the mother sayeth:
forth my son, your enemy is gone!
not afraid for hurt, thou canst have none!
he looketh about if he be gone or not, at the last he sayeth:
thou didst wisely, whosoeuer thou be,
tarry no longer to fight with me!
with my club I would have broken thy skull
thou were as big as Hercules’ bull!
thou cowardly knave, no stronger than a duck,
thou try maistries with me? A pluck
fear neither giants nor Jupiter’s firebolt,
Beelzebub the master devil as ragged as a colt
would. Thou wouldest come hither once again
thinck thou haddest rather alive to be flain.
again and I swear by my mother’s womb
will pull thee in pieces no more than my thomb,
thy braines abroad, I will so scatter
all knaves shall fear, against me to clatter.
cometh in Telemachus bringing a letter from his father Ulysses, and
Thersites sayeth:
Little Telemachus,
makest thou here among us?
my father Ulysses doth him commend
you most heartly, and here he hath you send
his mind a letter
shows you better
Shall
I can make rehersal?
he must deliver him the letter.
friends ye may see
great men write to me!
he must read the letter.
entirely as heart can think
scrivener can write with yuck,
send you loving greeting,
my own sweeting.
am very sorry
I cast in memory
great unkindness
also the blindness
hath be in my breast
you ever prest.
have been prompt and diligent
to make you shent,
appal your good name
to diminish your fame.
that I was to blame,
well all this is gone
remedy there is none.
only repentance
all my old grievance
which I did you molest
gave you sorry rest.
cause was thereof truly
but very envy.
now gentle esquire
me I you desire,
help I you beseech
to a leech
him may wisely charme
the worms that do him harm
that ye may do me pleasure
he is my chief treasure.
have heard men say
come by the way
better charmer is no other
is your own dear mother.
praye you of her obtain
charm away his pain.
ye well, and come to my house
drink wine and eat a piece of souse,
we will have minstrelsy,
shall pipe hankyn boby.
wife Penelope
greet you well by me
at my house on Candelmass day
month, the calendars of May.
me Ulysses being very glad
the victory of late of the monster ye had.
sirra, ye quod he? how say you friends all
is glad for my favour to call
though we often have swerved
he small love deserved
I am well content
he doth repent
let old matters go
to take him no more so
I have do hither to
my mortal foe.
go with me Telemachus, I will the bring
my mother to have her charming.
doubt not, but by that time that she hath done
shalt be the better seven years agone.
Thersites goeth to his mother, saying:
Christ thee save and see:
hath send his son to thee
thou shouldest him charm
the worms that him harm.
ye be wife keep ye warm
should I for Ulysses do
never was kind us to?
was ready in war
thee, son, to mar,
had been all my joy
cleave away.
mother, all that is past
may not always last.
seeinge we be mortall all
not our wroth be immortal.
that charm will, he shall not be charmed of me.
or by the mass with my club I will charm thee.
son, art thou so wicked to beat thy mother?
that I will, by God’s dear brother!
old witch, in the devil’s name,
I will send thee to him, to be his dame.
what a son have I
thus doth order me spitefully!
be the time that ever I him fed,
would in my belly he had be dead.
thou, old whore? Bless me again
I will bless thee, that shall be to thy pain.
he must take her by the arms, and she crieth out as followeth:
will kill me,
will spill me,
will bruise me,
will lose me,
will prick me,
will stick me!
devil stick the old withered witch,
I will stick neither thee nor none such.
come off, give me thy blessing again.
say let me have it, or else certain
my club I will lay thee on the brain.
seeinge thou threatenest to me affliction
of my heart have now my benediction.
Christ’s sweet blessing and mine
above and beneath the body of thine
I beseech with all my devotion
thou mayst come to a man’s promotion.
that forgive Mary Magdalene her sin
thee highest of all thy kin.
this words is double intellimente?
thou have me hanged mother veramente?
son, no, but too have you hye
promotion, is my mind verily.
then, mother, let all this go,
charm this child that you is sent to,
look hereafter to curse. Ye be not greedy,
me no more, I am cursed enough already.
son, I will curse you no more
ye provoke me to too soar.
I merveil why ye do me move
do for Ulisses that doth not us love.
by his son he hath sent me a letter
hereafter to be to us better,
you and I with my great club
walk to him and eat a syllabub,
we shall make merry
sing tyrle on the berry
Simkyn sydnam somner
killed a cat at comner.
the trifling taborer troubler of tunes
pike Peter piebaker a penniworth of prunes.
never good a net and a nightcap
will for Kit whose knee caught a knap.
doughty dighter of datys
with Godfrey Goodale will greatly at the gates.
Tombler of Tewxbury turning at a trice
wipe William Waterman if he be not wise.
Sadler of Sudley that served the sow
will Henry Heartless he heard not yet how.
Jaton that jabbed jolly Jone
will Gromelled until he groan.
Perts Picketthank, that picked Pernel’s purse
will the cakes though Cate do cry and curse.
Robin Rover ruffling in right rate
Bernarde Brainles will beat and Benet bate.
Frederick Furburer of a fart
Daniel Dainty to death will with a dart.
Mouylts morning for mad Mary
will the tables though he there not tarry.
all knave alderman of Antwerp
will with holy hocks and harken Humphrey’s harp.
is too to mother the pastime and good cheer
we shall see and have, when that we come there.
gentle mother, I thee heartly pray
thou wilt charm for worms this pretty boy.
son, seeing the case and matter standeth so,
am content all thy request to do.
hither, pretty child:
will the charm from the worms wild,
first do thou me thy name tell.
am called Telemachus there as I dwell.
lie down upright on the ground,
stir not ones for a thousand pound.
am ready here prest
do all your request.
he must lay him down with his belly upward and she must bless him
from above to beneath, saying:
cowherd of Comertown with his crooked spade
from thee the worms soon to vade,
jolly Jack jumbler that juggleth with a horn
that thy worms soon be all teo torn.
grandsire Abraham, godmother to Eve,
that this worms no longer this childe grieve.
the court of conscience in cuckold’s ires
and tabberets tipplers taverners
trayfullers, turners and trumpers
traitors, travailers and thumpers
thevish, thick and thereto thin
malady of this worms cause for to blin.
vertue of the tail of Isaac’s cow
before Adam in Paradise did low
the joyst of Mose’s rod
the mount of Calvary that spake with God
ad faciem, turning tail to tail,
all these worms quickly to fail.
bottom of the ship of Noe
also the leg of ye, horse of Troy,
piece of the tong of Balaam’s ass,
chawbone of the Oxe that at Christe’s birth was
eye to thee of the dog that went on pilgrimage
young Thoby, these worms soon may swage.
butterfly of Bromemycham that was born blind,
blast of the bottle that blowed Aelous’ wind,
buttock of the bitter bought at Buckingham,
body of the bear that with Bevis came,
backster of Balockbury with her baking peal,
from thy wormes I pray, maye soon thee heal.
tapper of tauyestocke and the tapster’s pot
tooth of the tytmus, the torde of the gote
the tower of tennis balls tostyd by the fyer,
table of Tantalus turned trim in mire,
tomb of Tom threadbare that thrusle tib through its smock
all thy worms child, to come forth at thy dock
Cam and Iaphat and call the millars mare
five stones of David: that made Goliath stare
wing with which saint Michael did fly to his mount
counters wherewith cherubin, did cheristones count
hawk with which Issuerus kylde she wild bore
that these worms my child, hurt thee no more
maw of the moorcock that made maud to move
Martinmas at moreton morened for the snow
spere of Spanish spylbery sprente with spiteful spots
lights of the lavrock laid at London lots
shinbone of saint Samuel shining so as the sun.
of the worms that soon thy pains be done.
bryce of Oxford and great Gyb of hynxey
mawde of thrutton and mable of chartesey
all other witches that walk in dymminges dale
and clattering there your pots with ale
youre ears, and hear this my petition
grant this child of health to have fruition
blessing that Jordan to his Godson gave.
on my child and from the worms him save.
stand up, little Telemachus anone
warrant thee by tomorrow thy wormes will be gone.
thank you, mother, in my most heartlywise.
you sir to my father command me any service?
pretty boy, but do thou us two commend
thy father and mother, tell them that we intend
my mother and I
see them shortly.
shall be heartly welcome to them, I dare well say.
you well, by your leave, now I will depart away.
give me thy hand, fare well.
pray God, keep thee from peril.
goeth out, and the mother sayeth.
it is a proper child
in behaviour nothing wild.
may see what is good education.
would every man after this fashion
their children up brought:
many of them would not have been so noughty.
child is better unborn than untaught.
say truth mother. Well, let all this go
make you ready Ulisses to go to
me anone, be you so content.
am well pleased. To your will I assent
although that I love him but very evil
is good to set a candle before the devil.
most part of great men I swear by this fire
is thee thank but heavy is the ire.
well son, I will go me to prepare.
God be with you and keep you from care.
mother goeth out, and Thersites sayeth forth:
I say, sirs, I think you all might she care,
care not if the old witch were dead.
were an almoys deed to knock her in the head
say on the worms that she did die.
there be many that my lands would buy,
God’s blessed brother,
I were not seek of the mother.
tootheles trot keep thee me hard
suffereth no money in my ward
by the blessed Trinity.
she will no sooner dead be
will with a cushion stop her breath
she has forgotten new marketh heth
all might I fare
that I care
to spare
the house she hoppeth
her nose often droppeth
the worts she choppeth
that she doth brew.
may say to you
am ready to spew
drops to see down run
all Christian man
her nose to her knen.
God’s body, it maketh me to spit
remember how that she doth sit
the fire bralling,
and scralling
in every place
oysters apace
doth but lack shells
devil have they white, else
night when to bed she goes
plucketh off her hose
knappeth me in the nose
tip, tap
flap
an ill hap
to that tap
venteth so
she goes.
much she daily drinketh
her breath at both ends stinketh
a horsecomb and a halter
soon up talter
I say David’s psalter,
shall be at Nevermas,
never shall be nor never was.
this ten bones
served me once
touch for the nones.
was sick and lay in my bed
brought me a kerchief to wrap on my head
I pray God that I be dead
that I lie any whit.
she was about the kerchief to knit,
did one of the form’s feet
she did stand on,
down fell she anone,
forth withall
she did fall
girded out a fart
me made to start.
think her buttocks did smart
it bad be a mare in a cart.
have not heard such a blast,
cried and bid her hold fast
that she nothing aghast
to me it no woman in this land
hold fast that which was not in her hand.
sirs, in that hole pitch and fire brand
that bag so fusty,
stale and so musty,
cankered and so rusty,
stinking and so dusty,
send her as much joy,
my nose hath always
her unsavery spice
that I be not wise
stop my nose quickly
she letteth go merely.
let all this go, I had almost forget
knave that here yerewhiles did jet
that Telemachus did come in.
will go seek him, I will not blinnen
that I have him.
so God save him.
will so be knave him
I will make to rave him.
this sword I will shave him
stripes when I have gave him
I will deprave him
you shall know for a slave him.
Miles cometh in saying:
thou so indeed?
the make good speed
am at hand here prest
away tongue shaking
this foolish cracking.
us try for the best
make speak a pace
proveth man
now at thy face
of if thou can.
then he must strike at him, and Thersytes must run away and leave his
club and sword behind.
thou lubber runnest thou away
leavest thy sword and thy club thee behind?
this is a sure card, now I may well say
a coward cracking here I did find!
you may see by this play in sight
great barking dogs do not most bite
oft it is seen that the best men in the host
not such, that use to brag most.
you will avoid the danger of confusion
my words in heart and mark this conclusion:
gifts of God that you excel in most,
them with soberness and yourself never bow,
the laud of God in all that you do:
shall vertue and honour come you too.
if you give your minds to the sin of pride,
shall your virtue, your honour away will slide,
pride is hated of God above
meekness soonest obtaineth his love.
your rulers and parents be you obedient,
transgressing their laweful commandement.
you merry and joyful at board and at bed,
no traitory against your prince and head,
God and fear him and after him your king,
is as victorious as any is living.
for his grace, with heart that doth not fain
long he may rule us without grief or pain.
you also that God may save his queen,
Lady Jane, and the prince that he hath send them between
augment their joy and the commons’ felicity.
you well sweet audience, God grant you all prosperity.
at London,
by
John Tysdale and are to be sold at his shop in the upper end of
Lombard Street, in Alhallowes churchyard near unto grace church.