The Poetical Works of John Skelton (Vol. 1&2). John Skelton

The Poetical Works of John Skelton (Vol. 1&2) - John Skelton


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not spyll a droppy,

      For so mote I hoppy, 560

      Dame Elynoure, sayde she,

      Haue here is for me,

      A cloute of London pynnes;

      And wyth that she begynnes

      The pot to her plucke,

      And dranke a good lucke;

      At ones for her parte;

      Her paunche was so puffed, 570

      And so wyth ale stuffed,

      Had she not hyed apace,

      She had defoyled the place.

      Than began the sporte

      Amonge that dronken sorte:

      Dame Eleynour, sayde they,

      Lende here a cocke of hey,

      To make all thynge cleane;

      Ye wote well what we meane.

      But, syr, among all 580

      That sat in that hall,

      There was a pryckemedenty,

      Sat lyke a seynty,

      And began to paynty,

      As thoughe she would faynty;

      She made it as koy

      She was not halfe so wyse

      As she was peuysshe nyse.

      She sayde neuer a worde, 590

      But rose from the borde,

      And called for our dame,

      Elynour by name.

      We supposed, I wys,

      That she rose to pys;

      But the very grounde

      Was for to compounde

      Wyth Elynour in the spence,

      To pay for her expence:

      I haue no penny nor grote 600

      To pay, sayde she, God wote,

      For washyng of my throte;

      But my bedes of amber

      Bere them to your chamber.

      Then Elynour dyd them hyde

      Wythin her beddes syde.

      But some than sat ryght sad

      That nothynge had

      Neyther gelt nor pawne; 610

      Suche were there menny

      That had not a penny,

      But, whan they should walke,

      Were fayne wyth a chalke

      To score on the balke,

      Or score on the tayle:

      God gyue it yll hayle!

      I haue wrytten to mytche

      Of this mad mummynge 620

      Of Elynour Rummynge.

      Thus endeth the gest

      Of this worthy fest.

      Quod Skelton, Laureat.

      LAUREATI SKELTONIDIS IN DESPECTU MALIGNANTIUM DISTICHON.

       Table of Contents

       Quamvis insanis, quamvis marcescis inanis,

       Invide,[540] cantamus: hæc loca plena jocis.[541]

       Bien men souuient.

       Omnes fœminas, quæ vel nimis bibulæ sunt, vel quæ sordida labe squaloris, aut qua spurca[542] fœditatis macula, aut verbosa loquacitate notantur, poeta invitat ad audiendum hunc libellum, &c.

       Ebria, squalida, sordida fœmina, prodiga verbis,

       Huc currat, properet, veniat! Sua gesta libellus[543]

       Iste volutabit: Pæan sua plectra sonando

       Materiam risus cantabit carmine rauco.

       Finis.

      Quod Skelton, Laureat.


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