4 мин
Слушать

Dialogue In Verse

Jack._ Seest thou not yon farmer's son?    He hath stoln my love from me, alas!  What shall I do?  I am undone;    My heart will ne'er be as it was.  O, but he gives her gay gold rings,    And tufted gloves [for] holiday,  And many other goodly things,    That hath stoln my love

Friend._ Let him give her gay gold rings    Or tufted gloves, were they ne'er so [gay];  [F]or were her lovers lords or kings,    They should not carry the wench

Jack._ But 'a dances wonders well,    And with his dances stole her love from me:  Yet she wont to say,

I bore the bell    For dancing and for

Dick._ Fie, lusty younker, what do you here,    Not dancing on the green to-day?  For Pierce, the farmer's son,

I fear,    Is like to carry your wench

Jack._ Good Dick, bid them all come hither,    And tell Pierce from me beside,  That, if he thinks to have the wench,    Here he stands shall lie with the

Dick._ Fie,

Nan, why use thy old lover so,    For any other new-come guest?  Thou long time his love did know;    Why shouldst thou not use him

Nan._ Bonny Dick,

I will not forsake    My bonny Rowland for any gold:  If he can dance as well as Pierce,    He shall have my heart in

Pierce._ Why, then, my hearts, let's to this gear;    And by dancing I may won  My Nan, whose love I hold so dear    As any realm under the

Gentleman._ Then, gentles, ere I speed from hence,    I will be so bold to dance  A turn or two without offence;    For, as I was walking along by chance,  I was told you did

Friend._ 'Tis true, good sir; and this is she    Hopes your worship comes not to crave her;  For she hath lovers two or three,    And he that dances best must have

Gentleman._ How say you, sweet, will you dance with me?    And you [shall] have both land and [hill];  My love shall want nor gold nor

Nan._ I thank you, sir, for your good will;  But one of these my love must be:    I'm but a homely country maid,  And far unfit for your degree;    [To dance with you I am

Friend._ Take her, good sir, by the hand,    As she is fairest: were she fairer,  By this dance, you shall understand,    He that can win her is like to wear

Fool._ And saw you not [my] Nan to-day,    My mother's maid have you not seen?  My pretty Nan is gone away    To seek her love upon the green.  [I cannot see her 'mong so many:]  She shall have me, if she have

Nan._ Welcome, sweetheart, and welcome here,    Welcome, my [true] love, now to me.  This is my love [and my darling dear],    And that my husband [soon] must be.  And, boy, when thou com'st home, thou'lt see  Thou art as welcome home as

Gentleman._ Why, how now, sweet Nan!  I hope you

Nan._ No, by my troth,

I love the fool the best:  And, if you be jealous,

God give you good-night!  I fear you're a gelding, you caper so

Gentleman._ I thought she had jested and meant but a fable,  But now do I see she hath play['d] with his bable.  I wish all my friends by me to take heed,  That a fool come not near you when you mean to speed.

0
0
114
Подарок

Другие работы автора

Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий

Сегодня читают

Сознание
Твоя стихия.
Приметы потепления
Ryfma
Ryfma - это социальная сеть для публикации книг, стихов и прозы, для общения писателей и читателей. Публикуй стихи и прозу бесплатно.