THERSITES

I say abide good Mulciber, I pray y u make me a salad ¶ Now I pray to Jupiter that thou die a cuckold I mean a salad with which men do fight ¶ Gods passion Mulciber where is thy wit & memory I would have a salad made of stele ¶ Men bones and sides he is worse then a be'st I would have a salad to were on my head Which under my chin w to a thong read Buckeled shall be Dost thou yet parceyue me ¶ I pray the good Mulciber make no more bones But let me have a salad made at ones. ¶ I would have such a one that neither might nor main should pierce it thorough, or part it in twain Which neither gonst one, nor sharp spear Should be able other to hurt or tear I would have it also for to save my head if Jupiter him self would have me dead And if he in a fume, would cast at me his fire This salad I would have to keep me from his ire. ¶ Now would I not fear with any bull to fight Or with a raumpinge lion neither by day nor Night Oh What great strength is in my body so lusty Which for lack of exercise, is now almost rusty Hercules in comparison to me was but a boy When the bandog Cerberus from hell he bore away When he killed the lyons, hydra, and the bear so wild Compare him to me and he was but a child Why Sampson I say, hast thou no more wit wouldst y u be as stro ̄ g as I? come suck thy mother's tytte Ween you that David that little elvish boy Should with his sling have take my life away Nay ywys Golyath, for all his five stones I would have quashed his little boysshe bones Oh how it would do my heart much good To see some of the giants before Noah's flood I would make the knaves to cryecreke Or else with my club their brains I will break But Mulciber, yet I have not with the do My head is armed, my neck I would have to And also my shoulders with some good habergyn That the devil if he shote at me could not enter in For I am determined great battle to make Except my fumishenes, by some means may assake. ¶ When I consider my shoulders that so broad be When the other parts of my body I do behold I verily think that none in chrystente With me to medele dare be so bold Now have at the lyons on cotsolde I will neither spare for heat nor for cold Where art thou king Arthur, & the knights of the round table Come, bring forth your horses out of the stable Lo with me to meet they be not able By the mass they had rather were a babble Where art thou Gawyn the curtesse and Cay the crabbed Here be a couple of knights cowardish and scabbed Appear in thy likeness sir Libeus disconius If thou wilt have my club Light onthy hedibus Lo you may see he hears not the face With me to try a blow in this place How syrray, approthe sir Lancelot de lake What? run you away and for fear quake Now he that did the a knight make Thought never that thou any battle shouldst take if y u wilt not come thy self, some other of thy fellows send To battle I provoke them, them self let them defend To, for all the good that ever they see They will not ones set hand to fight with me Oh good lord how broad is my breast And strong with all for hold is my chest He that should meddle with me shall have shrewd rest Behold you my hands, my legs and my feet Every part is strong proportionable and meet Think you that I am not feared in field and street Yes yes God wot, they give me the wall Or else with my club, I make them to fallen Back knaves I say to them, then for fear they quake And take me then to the tavern and good cheer me make The proctoure and his men I made to run their ways And some went to hide them in broken heys I tell you at a word I set not a torde By none of them all Early and late I will walk And London streets stalk Spite of them great and small For I think verily That none in heaven so hie Nor yet in hell so low While I have this club in my hand Can be able me to withstand Or me to overthrown But Mulciber, yet I must the desire To make me briggen irons for mine arms And then I will love the as mine own sire For without them, I can not be safe From all harms Those once had, I will not set a straw by all the world, for then I will by awe Have all my mind, or else by the holy rood I will make them think, the devil carrieth them to the wood if no man will with me battle take A voyage to hell quickly I will make. And there I will bete the devil and his dame And bring the souls away, I fully intend the same After that in hell I have ruffled so Sreyghte to old purgatory will I go I will clean that so purge round about That we shall need no pardons to help them out if I have not fight enough this ways I will climb to heaven and fetched away Peters kayes I will keep them my self, and let in a great rout What should such a fisher keep good fellows out ¶ Mulciber, while the stars shall shine in the sky And Phaeton's horses with the sons chariot shall fly While the Morning shall go before none And cause the darkennesse to vanish away soon While that the cat shall love well milk And while that women shalloue to go in silk While beggars have lice And cockneys are nice While pardoners can lie Merchants can by And children cry While all these last and more Which I keep in store I do me faithfully bind Thy kindness to bear in mind but yet Mulciber one thing I ask more Haste thou ever a sword now in store? I would have such a one that would cut stones And pare a great oak down at once That were a sword lo, even for the nonce. ¶ Gramercy Mulciber with my hold heart Give me thy hand and let us depart Now I go hence, and put my self in press I will seek adventures, yea and that I will not cease If there be any present here this Night that will take upon them with me to fight Let them come quickly, and the battle shall be pyghte Where is Cacus that knave? not worth a groat that was wont to blow clouds out of his throat Which stale Hercules kine and hid them in his cave Come hither Cacus, thou lubber and false knave I will teach all wretches by the to beware If thou come hither I trap the in a snare thou shalt have knocked bread and ill fare how say you good godfather that look so stale you seem a man to be born in the vale Dare you adventure with me a stripe or two Go coward go hide the as thou wast wont to do What a sort of dasterdes have we here None of you to battle with me dare appear What say you heart of gold, of countenance so demure? Will you fight with me? no, I am right sure Fie blush not woman, I will do you no harm Except I had you sooner to keep my back warm Alas little pums why are you so soar afraid? I pray you show how long it is? sense you were a maid Tell me in mine ear, sirs, she hath me told That gone was her mydenhead, at thrustene year old Byr lady she was loath to keep it to long And I were a maid again, now may be here song Do after my connsel of maidens the hoole bevy Quickly read your maydehed, for they are we ̄ geau ̄ ce heavy Well, let all go, Why? will none come in With me to fight that I may pare his skin ¶ I will go, I will go. stop not my way Hold me not good mother I heartily you pray If there be any lyons, or other wild be'st That will not suffer the husband man in rest I will go seeche them and bid them to afeest They shall aby bitterly the coming of such a gest I will search for them both in Bush and shrub And say on a load with this lusty club ¶ No mother no, I am not of such iniquity That I will defile my hands upon the. But be content mother, for I will not rest Till I have fought with some man or wild beast Truly my son if that you take this way This shall be the conclusion, mark what I shall say Other I will drown my self for sorrow And fede fishes with my body before to morrow Or with a sharp sword, surely I will me kill Now thou mayest save me, if it be thy will I will also cut my paps away That gave the suck so many a day And so in all the world it shall be known That by my own son I was overthrown Therefore if my life be to the Pleasant That which I desire good son do me grant ¶ Tush mother, I am deaf I will the not hear No no, if Jupiter here him self now were And all the gods, and Juno his wife And loving Minerva that abhorreth all strife if all these I say, would desire me to be content They did their wind but in vain spent I will have battle in wails or in kent and some of the kuaues I will all to rend where is the valiant knight sir Isenbrase? Appear sir I pray you, dare you not show your face where is Robin John and little Hod approach hither quickly if you think it good I will teach such outlaws with Christ's curses How they take hereafter away abbots purses Why will no adventure appear in this place where is Hercules with his great maze where is Buspris, that fed his horses Full like a tyrant, with dead men's corpses Come any of you both And I make and oath That year I eat any bread I will drive a wain you for need twain Between your body and your head Thus passes my brains will none take the pains To try with me a blow? Oh what a fellow am I whom every man doth fly That doth me but once know ¶ I say arise who so ever will fight I am to battle here ready dyghte Come hither other swain or knight Let me see who dare present him to my sight Here with my club ready I stand if any will come to take them in hand ¶ Why you whoreson knauys, regard you not my calling Why do you not come and with you weapons bring why shall this monster so escape killing No that he shall not and God be Willing ¶ By Gods passion knaves, if I come I will you fetter Regard you my calling and crying no better why horesons I say, will you not come By the mass the knaves be all from home They had better have fette me and etrande at Room Well sing my servants come to me will not I must take heed that this monster me spill not I will ioparde with it a joint And other with my club or my Swords point I will reche it such wounds As I would not have for. xl. M. pounds Pluck in thy horns thou unhappy beast what facest thou me? Wilt not thou be in rest Why? Wilt not thou thy horns in hold Thinkest thou that I am a cocklode Gods arms the monster comes toward me Still Except I fight manfully, it will me surely kill Well with my club I have had good-luck Now with my sword have at the a pluck I will make the or I go, for to duck And thou were as tale a man as friar suck I say yet again thy horns in draw Or else I will make the to have wounds raw Art not thou a feared To have thy beard Pared with my sword Ah well, now no more Thou mightest have done so before I laid at it so soar That it thought it should have be lore And it had not drawn in his horns again Surely I would the monstet have slain But now farewell, I will work the no more pain Now my fume is past And doth no longer last That I did to the monster cast Now in other countries both far and near More deeds of chyualtye I will go inquire Now where is any more that will me assail I will turn him and toss him both top and tail if he be stronger then Sampson was who with his bore hands kylde lyons apas Oh mother mother I pray the me hide Throw some thing over me and cover me every side No mother but if they had bent but ten to one I would not have avoided but set them upon But sing they be so many I ran away Hide me mother hide me, I heartily the pray For if they come hither and here me find To their horses tails they will me bind And after that fashion hall me and kill me And though I were never so bold and stout To fight against so many, I should stand in doubt Hide me mother, hide me, and never word say ¶ ywys thou didst wisely who so ever thou be To tarry no longer to fight with me For with my club I would have broken thy skull if thou were as big as Hercules bull why thou cowardly knave, no stronger then a duck Darest thou try masteries with me a pluck which fere neither giants nor Jupiters fire bolte Nor Beelzebub the master devil as ragged as a colt I would thou wouldst come hither ones again I think thou hadst rather alive to be flain Come again and I swear by my mother's womb I will pull the in pieces no more then my thumb and thy brains abroad, I will so scatter That all knaves shall fear, against me to clatter what? little Telemachus what makest thou here among us? ¶ Lo friends you may see what great men write to me As entirely as heart can think Or scryuener can write with yuck I send you loving greeting Thersytes mine own sweating I am very sorry when I cast in memory The great unkindness And also the blindness That hath be in my breast Against you ever pressed I have be prompt and diligent Ever to make you shent To appall your good name And To mynysshe your fame In that I was to blame But well all this is gone And remedy there is none But only repentance Of all my old grievance with which I did you molest And gave you sorry rest The cause was thereof truly Nothing but very envy wherefore now gentle esquire Forgive me I you desire And help I you beseech Telemachus to a leech That him may wisely charm From the worms that do him harm In that you may do me pleasure For he is my chief treasure I have heard men say That come by the way That better charmer is no other then is your own deer mother I pray you of her obtain To charm away his pain Fare you well, and come to my house To drink wine and eat a piece of souse And we will have minstrelsy that shall pipe hankyn boby My wife penelobe Does great you well by me writing at my house on Candelmasse day Midsummer month, the calendars of may By me Ulissed being very glad That the victory of late of the monster you had Ah syrraye quod he? how say you friends all Ulysses is glad for my favour to call well, though we oft have swerved And he small love deserved Yet I am well content Sing he doth repent To let old matters go And to take him no more so As I have do hither to For my mortal foe Come go with me Telemachus, I will the bring Unto my mother to have her cherminge I doubt not, but by that time that she hath done Thou shalt be the better seven years ago Mother Christ thee save and see Ulysses hath send his son to thee That thou shouldst him charm From the worms that him harm ¶ Well mother all that is passed Wrath may not alway last And sing we be mortal all Let not our wrath be immortal Charm or by the mass with my club I will charm the ¶ you that I will, by gods deer brother Charm old witch in the devils name Or I will send the to him, to be his dame ¶ Cursest thou old hoar? bless me again Or I will bless the, that shall be to thy pain The devil stick the old wytherde witch For I will stick neither the, nor none such. But come of give me thy blessing again I say let me have it, or else certain With my club I will say the on the brain ¶ In this words is double intellimente Wouldst thou have me hanged mother veramente ¶ Well then mother let all this goo and charm this child that you is send to and look hereafter to curse you be not greedy Curse me no more, I am cursed enough all ready ¶ Mother by his son he hath send me a letter Promising hereafter to be to us better And you and I with my great club Must walk to him and eat a solybubbe and we shall make merry and sing tyrle on the berry With Simkyn sydnam somner that kylde a cat at comner There the trifling tabborer trowbler of tunys Will pike Peter pybaker a pennyworth of prunes Nycholl never good a net and a night cap Knit will for kyt whose knee cawghte a knap David dowghtye dyghter of datys Grin with godfrey goodale will greatly at the gates Thom tumbler of tewxbury turning at a trice will wipe William waterman if he be not wise Simon sadler of sudeley that served the sow Hytte will Henry heartless he harden not yet how Jynkyn Iaton that jabbed jolly Joan Grynde will gromellede until he groan Proud perts pykethancke, that piked pernels purse Cut will the cakes though Cate do cry and curse Rough Robin rover ruffling in right rate bald Bernard braynles will bete and Benet bore Foolish frederycke furburer of a fart Dynge Daniel dainty to death will with a dart Mercolfe mouylts moreninge for mad Mary Tyncke will the tables though he there not tarry Andrew all knave alderman of Andwarpe Hop will with holy hocks & harken humfreys harp It is to to mother the pastime and good cheer That we shall see and have, when that we come there Wherefore gentle mother I the heartily pray That thou Wilt charm for worms this Pretty boy ¶ No Pretty boy, but do thou us two commend to thy father and mother, tell them that we intend Both my mother and I to see them shortly ¶ Son, give me thy hand, fare well ¶ You say truth mother, well let all this go and make you ready Ulysses to go to with me anon, be you so content ¶ Mother God be with you and keep you From care What soever I say sirs, I think ill might she care I care not if the old wytche were dead It were and almoys deed to knock byr in the head And say on the worms that she did die For there be many that my lands would buy By gods blessed brother If I were not seek of the mother this totheles Trot keep the me harden And suffers no money in my ward But by the blessed trinity If she will no sooner dead be I will with a coyshiou stop her breath till she have forgotten new marks heth Ill might I fare If that I care Nyr to spare About the house she hoppeth and her nose oft drops When the worts she choppeth When that she doth brew I may say to you I am ready to spew the drops to see down run By all Christen men From her nose to her knen Fie Gods body, it makes me to spit to remember how that she does fit By the fire brallynge Scratching and scrallynge and in every place Leyenge oysters apase She doth but lack shells the devil have they whytte, else At Night when to bed she goys and pluicketh of her hose She knappeth me in the nose with tip, tap Flyppe, flap that and ill happen Come to that tap that venteth so Where so ever she go So much she daily dryncketh That her breath at both ends styncketh That a horsecombe and and halter Her soon up talter till I say David's psalter That shall be at neuermas Which never shall be, nor never was By this ten bones She served me ones A touch for the nonce I was sick and say in my bed She brought me a kerchyfe to wrap on my head And I pray God that I be dead If that I lie any whytte when she was about the kerchefe to knit Break did one of the forms feet that she did stand on And down fell she anon And forth withal As she did fallen She girded out a fart That me made to start I think her buttocks did smart Except it bad be a mare in a cart I have not harden such a blast I cried and bid her hold fast with that she nothing aghast said to me y to no woman in this land Could hold fast that which was not in her hand Now sirs, in that hold pitch and fire brand Of that bag so fusty So stale and so musty So cankered and so rusty So stinking and so dusty God send her as much joy as my nose hath alway Of her vnsauerye spice If that I be not wise and stop my nose quickly When she lets goo merely But let all this go, I had almost forget The knave that here yerewhyles did jet Before that Telemachus did come in I will go seeche him, I will not blynne Until that I have him Then so God save him I will so be knave him That I will make to rave him With this sword I will shave him And stripes when I have gave him Better I will deprave him That you shall know for a slave him ¶ Mother thou spendest thy wind but in wast The gods of battle her fury on me hath cast I am fully fixed battle for to taste Oh how many to death I shall drive in haste I will ruffle this club about my head Or else I pray God I never die in my bed There shall never a stroke be stroken with my hand But they shall think y to Jupiter does thunder in y e land ¶ Mother thy petition I pray God be fulfilled For then no knaves blood shall be spilled Fellows keep my counsel, by the mass I do but crake I will be gentle enough and no busenesse make But yet I will make her believe that I am a man think you that I will fight? no no but with the can Except I find my enemy on this wise that he be a sleep or else can not arise If his arms and his feet be not fast bound I will not proffer a stripe for a thousand pound Fare well mother and tarry here no longer For after proves of chivalry I do both thirst & hunger I will hear the knaves as flat as a conger What how long shall I tarry? be your hearts in your hose will there none of you in battayl me appose Come prove me Why stand you so in doubt have you any wild blood, that you would have let out A lack that a men strength can not be knwen Because that he lacketh enemies to be ouerthowen But what a monster do I see now Coming hetherwarde with and armed brow what is it? ah it is a sow No by gods body it is but a grestle And on the back it hath never a brystle It is not a cow, ah there I fail For then it should have a long tail. What the devil I was blind, it is but a snail I was never so afraid in east nor in south My heart at the First sight was at my mouth Marry sir fie, fie, fie, I do sweat for fear I thought I had craked but to timely here Hens thou be'st and pluck in thy horns Or I swear by him that crowned was with thorns I will make the drink worse than good ale in y to corns Haste thou nothing else to do But come with horns and face me so How, how my servants, get you Shield and spear And let us weary and kill this monster here Mother a thousand horsemen do persecute me