THRUSH & NIGHTINGALE




Bodleian MS Digby 86
Ed. Dickins & Wilson; Carleton Brown


THE THRUSH AND THE NIGHTINGALE

Ci comence le cuntent parentre le Mauuis & la russinole

Somer is comen wiš loue to toune,
Wiš blostme, and wiš brides roune
¸e note of hasel springeš,
¸e dewes darkneš in še dale:
For longing of še ni´ttegale,
¸is foweles murie singeš.

Hic herde a strif bitweies two;
¸at on of wele, šat ošer of wo;
Bitwene two i-fere.
¸at on hereš wimmen šat hoe beš hende,
¸at ošer hem wole wiš mi´te shende,
¸at strif ´e mowen i-here.

¸e ni´tingale is on bi nome
¸at wol shilden hem from shome,
Of skaše hoe wole hem skere;
¸e šrestelcok hem kepeš ay,
He seiš bi ni´te and eke bi day,
¸at hy beš fendes i-fere.

For hy biswikeš euchan mon
¸at mest bileueš hem ouppon,
¸ey hy ben milde of chere,
Hoe beš fikele and fals to fonde,
Hoe wercheš wo in euchan londe;
Hit were betere šat hy nere.

"Hit is shome to blame leuedy,
For hy beš hende of corteisy;
Ich rede šat šou lete.
Ne wes neuere bruche so strong,
I-broke wiš ri´te ne wiš wrong,
¸at wimmon ne mi´te bete.

Hy gladieš hem šat beš wrowe,
Boše še heye and še lowe,
Mid gome hy cunne hem grete.
¸is world nere nout ´if wimen nere;
I-maked hoe wes to mones fere,
Nis no šing also swete."

"I ne may wimen herien nohut,
For hy beš swikele and false of šohut,
Als ich am ounderstonde.
Hy beš feire and bri´t on hewe,
Here šout is fals and ountrewe;
Ful ´are ich haue hem fonde.

Alisaundre še king meneš of hem,
In še world nes non so crafti mon,
No non so riche of londe.
I take witnesse of monie and fele
¸at riche weren of worldes wele,
Muche wes hem še shonde."

¸e ni´tingale hoe wes wroš:
"Fowel, me šinkeš šou art me loš
Sweche tales for to showe.
Among a šousent leuedies i-tolde
¸er nis non wickede I holde
¸er hy sitteš on rowe.

Hy beš of herte meke and milde,
Hemself hy cunne from shome shilde
Wišinne boures wowe.
And swettoust šing in armes to wre
¸e mon šat holdeš hem in gle.
Fowel, wi ne art šou hit i-cnowe?"

"Gentil fowel, seist šou hit me?
Ich habbe wiš hem in boure i-be,
I-haued al mine wille.
Hy willeš for a luitel mede
Don a sunfoul derne dede,
Here soule forto spille.

Fowel, me šinkeš šou art les;
¸ey šou be milde and softe of pes,
¸ou seyst šine wille.
I take witnesse of Adam,
¸at wes oure furste man,
¸at fonde hem wycke and ille."

"¸restelcok, šou art wod,
Ošer šou const to luitel goed,
¸is wimmen for to shende.
Hit is še swetteste driwerie,
And mest hoe counnen of curteisie.
Nis nošing also hende.

¸e mest murše šat mon haueš here,
Wenne hoe is maked to his fere
In armes for to wende.
Hit is shome to blame leuedi,
For hem šou shalt gon sori:
Of londe ich wille še sende."

"Ni´ttingale, šou hauest wrong!
Wolt šou me senden of šis lond
For ich holde wiš še ri´tte?
I take witnesse of Sire Wawain,
¸at Iesu Crist ´af mi´t and main
And strengše for to fi´tte.

So wide so he heuede igon, 
Trewe ne founde he neuere non
Bi daye ne bi ni´te."
"Fowel, for ši false mouš
¸i sawe shal ben wide couš;
I rede še fle wiš mi´tte.

Ich habbe leue to ben here,
In orchard and in erbere
Mine songes for to singe.
Herdi neuere bi no leuedi
Bote hendinesse and curteysi,
And ioye hy gunnen me bringe.

Of muchele murše hy telleš me;
Fere, also I telle še,
Hy liuieš in longinge.
Fowel, šou sitest on hasel bou,
¸ou lastest hem, šou hauest wou,
¸i word shal wide springe."

"Hit springeš wide, wel ich wot, 
¸ou tel hit him šat hit not!
¸is sawes ne beš nout newe.
Fowel, herkne to mi sawe,
Ich wile še telle of here lawe,
¸ou ne kepest nout hem ikowe.

¸enk on Costantines quene;
Foul wel hire semede fow and grene;
Hou sore hit gon hire rewe.
Hoe fedde a crupel in hire bour,
And helede him wiš couertour.
Loke war wimmen ben trewe!"

"¸restelkok, šou hauest wrong,
Also I sugge one mi song,
And šat men witeš wide.
Hy beš bri´ttore ounder shawe
¸en še day wenne hit dawe,
In longe someres tide.

Come šou heuere in here londe,
Hy shulen don še in prisoun stronge,
And šer šou shalt abide.
¸e lesinges šat šou hauest maked,
¸er šou shalt hem forsake,
And shome še shal bitide."

"Ni´ttingale, šou seist šine wille,
¸ou seist šat wimmen shulen me spille.
Dašeit wo hit wolde!
In holi bok hit is ifounde,
Hy bringeš moni mon to grounde,
¸at proude weren and bolde.

¸enk oupon Saunsum še stronge,
Hou muchel is wif him dude to wronge,
Ich wot šat hoe him solde.
Hit is šat worste hord of pris
¸at Iesu makede in parais
In tresour for to holde."

¸o seide še ni´ttingale:
"Fowel, wel redi is ši tale;
Kerkne to mi lore!
Hit is flour šat lasteš longe,
And mest iherd in eueri londe,
And louelich ounder gore.

In še worlde nis non so goed leche,
So milde of šoute, so feir of speche,
To hele monnes sore.
Fowel, šou rewest al ši šohut,
¸ou dost euele, ne geineš še nohut,
Ne do šou so nammore!"

"Ni´tingale, šou art ounwis
On hem to leggen so muchel pris,
¸i mede shal ben lene.
Among on houndret ne beš fiue,
Noušer of maidnes ne of wiue,
¸at holdeš hem al clene,

¸at hy ne wercheš wo in londe,
Ošer bringeš men to shonde,
And šat is wel iseene;
And šey we sitten šerfore to striuen,
Boše of maidnes and of wiue,
Soš ne seist šou ene."

"O fowel, ši mouš še haueš ishend!
¸oru wam wes al šis world iwend?
Of a maide meke and milde.
Of hire sprong šat holi bern
¸at boren wes in Bedlehem,
And temeš al šat is wilde.

Hoe ne weste of sunne ne of shame,
Marie wes ire ri´te name;
Crist hire ishilde!
Fowel, for ši false sawe
Forbeddi še šis wode-shawe;
¸ou fare into še filde."

"Ni´ttingale, I wes woed,
Ošer I couše to luitel goed,
Wiš še for to striue.
I suge šat icham ouercome
¸oru hire šat bar šat holi sone,
¸at soffrede wundes fiue.

Hi swerie bi His holi name
Ne shal I neuere suggen shame
Bi maidnes ne bi wiue.
Hout of šis londe willi te,
Ne recchi neuere weder I fle;
Awai ich wille driue."

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