The Romance of Thomas of Erceldoune
Fytte I
As I me went this endris1 day,
Full fast in mind making my moan,
In a merry morning of May
By Huntlie banks myself alone,
5
I heard the jay and the throstle-cock;
The mavis meaned2 her of her song;
The woodwale berèd3 as a bell,
That all the wood about me rong.
Alone in longing thus as I lay
10
Underneath a seemly tree,
Saw I where a lady gay
Came riding over a longè lea.
If I should sit to Doomèsday
With my tongue to wrable and wry4,
15
Certainly that lady gay
Never be she described for me!
Her palfrey was a dapple-gray,5
Swilk6 one ne saw I never none;
As does the sun on summer’s day,
20
That fair lady herself she shone.
Her saddle it was of roelle-bone7;
Full seemly was that sight to see!
Stiffly set with precious stone
And compast all with crapotee8—
25
Stones of Orient great plenty;
Her hair about her head it hang;
She rode over that longè lea;
A while she blew, another she sang.
Her girths of noble silk they were;
30
The buckles were of beryl-stone;
Her stirrups were of crystal clear,
And all with pearl overbegone9;
Her paytrell10 was of iral-stone;
Her crupper was of orpharè11;
35
And as clear gold her bridle shone;
On either side hang bellès three.
She led three grew-hounds in a leash,
And seven raches12 by her they ran;
She bare an horn about her halse13,
40
And under/her belt full many a flane14.
Thomas lay and saw that sight
Underneath a seemly tree.
He said “Yon is Mary most of might,15
That bare that child that died for me.
45
But-if16 I speak with yon lady bright,
I hope my heart will break in three!
Now shall I go with all my might
Her for to meet at Eildon tree17.”
Thomas rathely18 up he rase,
50
And he ran over that mountain high;
If it be as the story says,
Her he met at Eildon tree.
He kneelèd down upon his knee,
Underneath that greenwood spray,
55
And said “Lovely lady, rue on me,
Queen of heaven, as thou well may!”
Then spake that lady mild of thought,
“Thomas, let such wordès be;
Queen of heaven ne am I nought,
60
For I took never so high degree.
But I am of another country,
If I be ’parelled most of price;
I ride after these wildè fee19;
My raches runnès at my device.”
65
“If thou be ’parelled most of price,
And here rides thus in thy folly,
Of love, lady, as thou art wise,
Thou give me leave to lie thee by!”
She said “Thou man, that were folly;
70
I pray thee, Thomas, thou let me be;
For I say thee full sekerly20,
That sin will fordo all my beauty,”
“Now, lovely lady, rue on me,
And I will evermore with thee dwell;
75
Here my troth I will plight to thee,
Whether thou wilt in heaven or hell.”
“Man of mould, thou wilt me mar;
But yet thou shalt have all thy will;
And, trow it well, thou ’chievest the ware21,
80
For all my beauty wilt thou spill.”
Down then light that lady bright
Underneath that greenwood spray.
And, as the story tells full right,
Seven times by her he lay.
85
She said “Man, thee likes thy play;
What byrde22 in bower may deal with thee?
Thou marrest me all this longè day;
I pray thee, Thomas, let me be!”
Thomas stood up in that stead23,
90
And he beheld that lady gay;
Her hair it hang all over her head;
Her eyne were out, that ere were gray;
And all the rich clothing was away
That he before saw in that stead;
95
Her one shank black, her other gray,
And all her body like the lead.
Then said Thomas “Alas, alas!
In faith this is a duleful24 sight;
How art thou faded thus in the face,
100
That shone before as the sun so bright!”
She said, “Thomas, take leave at sun and moon,
And also at leaf that grows on tree;
This twelvemonth shalt thou with me gone25,
And Middle-earth26 shalt thou none see.”
105
He kneelèd down upon his knee,
Underneath that greenwood spray,
And said “Lovely lady27, rue on me,
Mild queen of heaven, as thou best may!
Alas!” he said, “and woe is me!
110
I trow my deeds will work me care;
My soul, Jesu, beteach28 I thee,
Whithersoever my bones shall fare.”
She led him in at Eildon hill
Underneath a dernè29 lea,
115
Where it was dark as midnight mirk,
And ever the water till his knee.
The mountenance30 of dayès three
He heard but swoughing of the flood;
At the last he said “Full woe is me!
120
Almost I die for fault of food.”
She led him intill a fair herbere31
Where fruit was growing great plenty;
Pear and apple, both ripe they were,
The date, and also the damasee,
125
The fig, and also the wine-berry;
The nightègales bigging32 on their nest;
The papejoys33 fast about gan fly,
And throstles sang, would have no rest.
He pressed to pull fruit with his hand,
130
As man for food that was near faint.
She said “Thomas, thou let them stand,34
Or else the fiend thee will attaint!
If thou it pluck, soothly to say,
Thy soul goes to the fire of hell;
135
It comes never out or Doomèsday,
But there in pain aye for to dwell.
Thomas, soothly, I thee hight35,
Come lay thy head down on my knee,
And thou shalt see the fairest sight
140
That ever saw man of thy country.”
He did in hight36 as she him bade;
Upon her knee his head he laid,
For her to pay37 he was full glad,
And then that lady to him said:
145
“Seest thou38 now yon fair39 way,
That lieth over yon high mountain?
Yon is the way to heaven for aye
When sinful souls are past their pain.
Seest thou now yon other way,
150
That lieth low beneath yon rise40?
Yon is the way, thee sooth to say,
Unto the joy of Paradise.
Seest thou yet yon thirdè way,
That lieth under yon greenè plain?
155
Yon is the way, with teen and tray41,
Where sinful soulès suffer their pain.
But seest thou now yon fourthè way,
That lieth over yon deepè dell?
Yon is the way, so wellaway!
160
Unto the burning fire of hell.
Seest thou yet yon fair castel,
That standeth over yon highè hill?
Of town and tower it bears the bell,
In earth is none like it untill.
165
For sooth, Thomas, yon is mine own,
And the king’s of this country;
But me were lever42 be hanged and drawn
Or that43 he wist thou lay me by.
When thou com’st to yon castle gay,
170
I pray thee courteous man to be,
And whatso any man to thee say,
Look thou answer none but me.
My lord is servèd at each mess
With thirty knightès fair and free;
175
I shall say, sitting at the dess44,
I took thy speech beyond the sea.”
Thomas still as stone he stood,
And he beheld that lady gay;
She came again as fair and good
180
And also rich on her palfrey.
Her grewhounds fillèd with deer-blood;
Her raches coupled, by my fay;
She blew her horn with main and mood45;
Unto the castle she took the way.
185
Into the hall soothly she went;
Thomas followèd at her hand;
Then ladies came, both fair and gent,
With courtesy to her kneeland46.
Harp and fithel both they fand47,
190
Gittern and also the sawtery48,
Lute and ribib49 both gangand50,
And all manner of minstrelsy.
The most marvel that Thomas thought,
When that he stood upon the floor,
195
For fifty hartès in were brought,
That were bothè great and store51.
Raches lay lapping in the blood;
Cookès came with dressing-knife;
They brittened52 them as they were wood;
200
Revel among them was full rife.
Knightès danced by three and three,
There was revel, gamen, and play;
Lovely ladies, fair and free,
That sat and sang on rich array.
205
Thomas dwelled in that solace
More than I you say, pardè;
Till on a day, so have I grace,
My lovely lady said to me53;
“Do busk thee, Thomas; thee buse54 again;
210
For thou may here no longer be;
Hie thee fast with might and main;
I shall thee bring till Eildon tree.”
Thomas said then with heavy cheer55,
“Lovely lady, now let me be;
215
For certes, lady, I have been here
Nought but the space of dayès three!”
“For sooth, Thomas, as I thee tell,
Thou hast been here three year and more;
But longer here thou may not dwell;56
220
The skill57 I shall thee tell wherefore.
To-morn58, of hell the foulè fiend
Among this folk will fetch his fee;
And thou art mickle man and hend59,
I trow full well he would choose thee.
225
For all the gold that ever may be
From hethen60 unto the worldès end,
Thou beest never betrayed for me;
Therefore with me I rede61 thou wend.”
She brought him again to Eildon tree,
230
Underneath that greenwood spray.
In Huntlie banks is merry to be,
Where fowlès sing both night and day.62
“Farewell, Thomas, I wend my way,
For me buse63 over the bentès brown.”
235
—Lo, here a fytte; more is to say64
All of Thomas of Erceldoune.
← Back to The Sources and Analogues of A Midsummer-Night’s Dream