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04 April 2012 @ 04:57 pm
Fitt 3 Stanza 2  


At þe fyrst quethe of þe quest quaked þe wylde;
At the first charge of the chase the wilds quaked.

Der drof in þe dale, doted for drede,
Deer in the dale, dazed & driven by dread,

Hi3ed to þe hy3e, bot heterly þay were
Hastened to the heights but they were hatefully

Restayed with þe stablye, þat stoutly ascryed;
Rebuffed by the bold battle cry of the beaters.

Þay let þe hertte3 haf þe gate, with þe hy3e hedes,
They gave way to the harts with their high heads

Þe breme bukke3 also, with hor brode paume3;
& the big bucks also, with their broadly palmed racks.

For þe fre lorde hade de-fende in fermysoun tyme,
The lord of the land had declared a closed season;

Þat þer schulde no mon mene to þe male dere.
That no man might be menacing to any male deer.

Þe hinde3 were halden in, with hay & war,
The hinds were held in with havoc & war;

Þe does dryuen with gret dyn to þe depe slade3;
The does driven with great din to deep in the dale.

Þer my3t mon se, as þay slypte, slentyng of arwes,
There a man might see, as they slipped, the slanting of arrows.

At vche [þat] wende vnder wande wapped a flone,
A shaft shot at each that barreled below the boughs

Þat bigly bote on þe broun, with ful brode hede3,
& with broad heads they bit hard on the brown hides.

What! þay brayen, & bleden, bi bonkke3 þay de3en.
Whap! They bray & bleed & by banks they die.

& ay rachches in a res radly hem fol3es,
& ever were harriers in hurried & hot pursuit;

Huntere3 wyth hy3e horne hasted hem after,
Hunters with horns held high hastened after them

Wyth such a crakkande kry, as klyffes haden brusten;
With such a cracking cry as the crashing of cliffs.

What wylde so at-waped wy3es þat schotten,
Whatever strays that so escaped the shooters

Wat3 al to-raced & rent, at þe resayt.
Were all sliced & slashed asunder by the recievers.

Bi þay were tened at þe hy3e, & taysed to þe wattre3,
Hence they were harried from the heights & herded to the waters;

Þe lede3 were so lerned at þe lo3e trysteres,
The lords were so learned at those lower marks

& þe gre-hounde3 so grete, þat geten hem bylyue,
& the greyhounds so great, that they injured them instantly

& hem to fylched, as fast as freke3 my3t loke,
& finished them off as fast as folks might see

        þer ry3t.
        the sight.

    Þe lorde for blys abloy
    The lord took joy in this

    Ful oft con launce & ly3t,
    & did often launch & alight.

    & drof þat day wyth Ioy
    He drove deer that day with bliss

    Thus to þe derk ny3t.
    Until the dark of night.


 
 
 
Mark E. Phairistgut on April 10th, 2012 05:41 am (UTC)
poor dear. good hounds, though ;)