> > 50/50 iambic pentameter lines and four-stress lines. Difficult to know
> > quite what to do with something like that.)
>
> Read it aloud, dear boy, read it aloud.
>
> joanna
Would that it were so simple. That works with the Egerton version, which is
a great poem, but the Devonshire version is simply a mess.
I'll include the three versions (there's also what Tottel/Grimald does to
it), see what people think. The Devonshire version is one that can be
difficult to find. The text below is taken from Raymond Southall's PhD
transcript of the Devonshire MS.
(Joanna, I seem to remember asking you if you wanted to see what I'd done on
this -- are you still interested? If so, I'll fire it off to you as an
email Attachment.)
Robin
DEVONSHIRE VERSION
Nowe fare well love \\ and thy lawes for ever .
thye baytid hookis shall tangle me no more
to sore a profe hathe called me from thy lore
to surer welthe \\ my wyttis to endevour
In blynde errour whylist I dede perseuer 5
thye sharpe repulse \\ that pryckith so sore
hathe taught me to sett \\ in tryfflis no store \
but skape forthe . for libretye is lever .
therefore farewell go truble yonger hertes
and in me clayme no more autorytye 10
with Idle youth goo vse thye propretye
And therevpon go spende thy brittle dartes
for hidreto \\ I have loste mye tyme
me liste no lengre rottyn bowes to clyme \
EGERTON VERSION
ffarewell Love and all thy lawes for ever
thy bayted hookes shall tangill me no more
Senec and Plato call me from thy lore
to perfaict welth my wit for to endever
In blynde errour when I did perseuer 5
thy sherpe repulce that pricketh ay so sore
hath taught me to sett // in tryfels no store
and scape fourth syns libertie is lever
Therefore farewell goo trouble yonger hertes
and in me clayme no more authoritie 10
with idill yeuth goo vse thy propertie
And theron spend thy many brittill dertes
for hetherto though I have lost all my tyme
me lusteth no lenger rotten boughes to clyme
TOTTEL VERSION
A renouncing of loue.
Farewell, Loue, and all thy lawes for euer.
Thy bayted hokes shall tangle me no more.
Senec, and Plato call me from thy lore:
To parfit wealth my wit for to endeuer.
In blinde errour when I dyd perseuer:
Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore:
Taught me in trifles that I set no store:
But scape forth thence: since libertie is leuer.
Therefore, farewell: go trouble yonger hartes:
And in me claime no more auctoritie.
With ydle youth go vse thy propartie:
And theron spend thy many brittle dartes.
For, hytherto though I haue lost my tyme:
Me lyst no lenger rotten bowes to clime.
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