The Poetical Works of John Skelton, Volume 2 (of 2)

Name: The Poetical Works of John Skelton, Volume 2 (of 2)
Author: Skelton, John

Skelton, John

English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700

In playn felde and battayle;
  But ye and your hoost,
  Full of bragge and boost,
  And full of waste wynde,
  Howe ye wyll beres bynde,
  And the deuill downe dynge,                                          210
  Yet ye dare do nothynge,
  But lepe away lyke frogges,
  And hyde you vnder logges,
  Lyke pygges and lyke hogges,
  And lyke maungy dogges.
  What an army were ye?
  Or what actyuyte
  Is in you, beggers braules,
  Full of scabbes and scaules,
  Of vermyne and of lyce,                                              220
  And of all maner vyce?
    Syr duke, nay, syr ducke,
  Syr drake of the lake, sir ducke
  Of the donghyll, for small lucke
  Ye haue in feates of warre;
  Ye make nought, but ye marre;
  Ye are a fals entrusar,
  And a fals abusar,
  And an vntrewe knyght;
  Thou hast to lytell myght                                            230
  Agaynst Englande to fyght;
  Thou art a graceles wyght
  To put thy selfe to flyght:
  A vengeaunce and dispight
  On thé must nedes lyght,
  That durst nat byde the sight
  Of my lorde amrell,
  Of chiualry the well,
  Of knighthode the floure
  In euery marciall shoure,                                            240
  The noble Erle of Surrey,
  That put thé in suche fray;
  Thou durst no felde derayne,
  Nor no batayle[261] mayntayne
  Against our st[r]onge captaine,
  But thou ran home agayne,
  For feare thou shoulde be slayne,
  Lyke a Scottyshe keteryng,
  That durst abyde no reknyng;
  Thy hert wolde nat serue thé:                                        250
  The fynde of hell mot sterue thé!
    No man hath harde
  Of suche a cowarde,
  And such a mad ymage
  Caried in a cage,
  As it were a cotage;
  Or of suche a mawment
  Caryed in a tent;
  In a tent! nay, nay,
  But in a mountayne gay,                                              260
  Lyke a great hill
  For a wyndmil,
  Therin to couche styll,
  That no man hym kyll;
  As it were a gote
  In a shepe cote,
  About hym a parke
  Of a madde warke,
  Men call it a toyle;
  Therin, lyke a royle,                                                270
  Sir Dunkan, ye dared,
  And thus ye prepared
  Youre carkas to kepe,
  Lyke a sely shepe,
  A shepe of Cottyswolde,
  From rayne and from colde,
  And from raynning of rappes,
  And suche after clappes;
  Thus in your cowardly castell
  Ye decte you to dwell:                                               280
  Suche a captayne of hors,[262]
  It made no great fors
  If that ye had tane
  Your last deedly bane
  With a gon stone,
  To make you to grone.
  But hyde thé, sir Topias,
  Nowe into the castell of Bas,
  And lurke there, lyke an as,
  With some Scotyshe [l]as,                                            290
  With dugges, dugges, dugges:
  I shrewe thy Scottishe lugges,
  Thy munpynnys, and thy crag,
  For thou can not but brag,
  Lyke a Scottyshe hag:
  Adue nowe, sir Wrig wrag,
  Adue, sir Dalyrag!
  Thy mellyng is but mockyng;
  Thou mayst giue vp thy cocking,

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The Poetical Works of John Skelton, Volume 2 (of 2)

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