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a Dyttie to Hey Downe. Copted from an old MS. in the Cotton library (Vesp. A. 25),
entitled “Divers things of Hen. viij's time.”
Who sekes to tame the blustering winde,
Or causse the floods bend to his wyll,
To'change' things frame by cunning skyll:
Who strives to breake the sturdye steele,
Or goeth about to staye the sunne;
Which never can by force be done:
Who thinks to stryve against the streame,
And for to sayle without a maste;
His travell ys forelorne and waste;
So he lykewise,
A golden gyft with him to beare;
Ver. 4, causse. MS.
God grant eche man one to amend;
God send us all a happy place;
That we may have our princes grace:
Glasgerion. An ingenious friend thinks that the following old ditty (which is printed from the Editor's folio MS.) may possibly have given birth to the Tragedy of The Orphan, in which Polidore intercepts Monimia's intended favours to Castalio.
See what is said concerning the hero of this song (who is celebrated by Chaucer under the name of Glaskyrion), in the Essay prefixed to vol. i., note (1), part iv. (2.)
GLASGERION was a kings owne sonne,
And a harper he was goode:
Where cuppe and caudle stoode.
And soe did hee in the queens chambere,
Till ladies waxed 'glad.'
And these wordes thus shee sayd.
Strike on, strike on, Glasgérion,
Of thy striking doe not blinne:
But it glads my hart withinne.
Ver. 6, wood. MS.
Faire might he fall, ladye, quoth hee,
Who taught you nowe to speake!
My minde I neere durst breake.
When all men are att rest:
Thou shalt bee a welcome guest.
Home then came Glasgèrion,
A glad man, lord ! was hee.
Come hither unto mee.
Hath granted mee my boone:
Beffore the cocke have crowen.
O master, master, then quoth hee,
Lay your head downe on this stone: For I will waken you, master deere,
Afore it be time to gone.
But up then rose that lither ladd,
And hose and shoone did on: A coller he cast upon his necke,
Hee seemed a gentleman.
And when he came to the ladyes chambere,
He thrild upon a pinn1.
And rose and lett him inn.
V. 16, harte. MS.
1 This is elsewhere expressed 'twirled the pin,' or 'tirled at the pin,' (see b. ii. 8. vi. v. 3,) and seems to refer to the turning round the button on the outside of a door, by which the latch rises, still used in cottages.
He did not take the lady gaye
To boulster nor to bed:
A single word he sed.'
Nor when he came, nor yode:
He was of some churls bloud.
But home then came that lither ladd,
And did off his hose and shoone; And cast the coller from off his necke:
He was but a churlès sonne.
Awake, awake, my deere master,
The cock hath well-nigh crowen.
I hold it time to be gone.
Well bridled I have your steede:
For thereof ye have need.
And did on hose and shoone;
For he was a kinge his sonne.
He thrilled upon the pinne:
And rose and let him inn.
Your bracelet or your glove?
To know more of my love?
Glasgèrion swore a full great othe,
By oake, and ashe, and thorne; Ladye, I was never in your chambère,
Sith the time that I was borne.
O then it was your lither foot-page,
He hath beguiled mee.
That hanged by her knee:
Within my bodye spring:
The daughter of a kinge.
good lord, was hee. Sayes, come thou hither, Jacke my boy,
Come hither unto mee.
If I had killed a man to night,
Jacke, I would tell it thee:
Jacke, thou hast killed three.
And dryed it on his sleeve,
Who did his ladye grieve.
The pummil untill a stone:
These three lives were all gone.