Little is known of Skelton’s life. His first extant work is an elegy on the death of Edward IV, written in 1483; by 1490 he was a scholar of international reputation. Erasmus called him the “light and ornament of English letters,” and William Caxton spoke of him as a scholar, translator, and poet of great renown. But most of the works upon which Skelton’s contemporary reputation rested have been lost. He took holy orders in 1498, after he had written his allegorical condemnation of public life, The Bouge of Court. In 1504 he retired to Norfolk as rector of Diss.
It is from this time that his real career as a poet starts. No longer is he the proper Latinate poet of the Elegy to Edward, or the conventional translator and scholar. He wrote Phillip Sparrow and The Tunning of Elinour Rumming, developing his distinctive short-lined rhythms and his peculiar, breathless tone. By 1512 Skelton was back in public life, at the court, where he was appointed King’s Orator. He died at Westminster, leaving several children by a secret marriage.
Skelton’s poetry had little direct influence in his own age, although such twentieth-century poets as Auden and Graves have acknowledged indebtedness. His work is primitive; but within the limits of that primitivism, it is—like the work of a greater modern poet whom he curiously resembles, William Carlos Williams—always skillful and frequently moving. Historically, Skelton’s poetry represents the persistence of both a native popular folk tradition and the short-lined accentual Latin verse of the late medieval period in the English language.
TEXT:
The Complete Poems of John Skelton, edited by Phillip Henderson (1948).
Woefully arrayed,
My blood, man,
For thee ran,
It may not be nayed:
Woefully arrayed.
Behold me, I pray thee, with all thy whole reason,
And be not so hard-hearted, and for this encheason,
Sith I for thy soul’s sake was slain in good season,
Beguiled and betrayëd by Judas’ false treason:
Unkindly entreated,
With sharp cord sore freted,
The Jewës me threted:
They mowëd, they grinnëd, they scornëd me,
Condemnëd to death, as thou mayest see,
Woefully arrayed.
Thus naked am I nailëd, O man, for thy sake!
I love thee, then love me; why sleepest thou? awake!
Remember my tender heart-root for thee brake,
With painës my veinës constrainëd to crake:
Thus tuggëd to and fro,
Thus wrappëd all in woe,
Whereas never man was so,
Entreated thus in most cruel wise,
Was like a lamb offered in sacrifice,
Woefully arrayed.
Of sharp thorn I have worn a crown on my head,
So painëd, so strainëd, so rueful, so red,
Thus bobbëd, thus robbëd, thus for thy love dead,
Unfeignëd I deignëd my blood for to shed:
The sturdy nailës bore:
What might I suffer more
Than I have done, O man, for thee?
Come when thou list, welcome to me,
Woefully arrayed.
Of recórd thy good Lord I have been and shall be:
I am thine, thou art mine, my brother I call thee.
Thee love I entirely—see what is befallen me!
Sore beating, sore threating, to make thee, man, all free:
Why art thou unkind?
Why hast not me in mind?
Come yet and thou shalt find
Mine endless mercy and grace—
See how a spear my heart did race,
Woefully arrayed.
Dear brother, no other thing I of thee desire
But give me thine heart free to reward mine hire:
I wrought thee, I bought thee from eternal fire:
I pray thee array thee toward my high empire
Above the orient,
Whereof I am regent,
Lord God omnipotent,
With me to reign in endless wealth:
Remember, man, thy soulës health.
Woefully arrayed,
My blood, man,
For thee ran,
It may not be nayed:
My body blo and wan,
Woefully arrayed.
Your ugly token
My mind hath broken
From worldly lust:
For I have discussed
We are but dust,
And die we must.
It is general
To be mortal:
I have well espied
No man may him hide
From Death hollow-eyed,
With sinews wyderëd,
With bonës shyderëd,
With his worm-eaten maw,
And his ghastly jaw
Gasping aside,
Naked of hide,
Neither flesh nor fell.
Then, by my counsel,
Look that ye spell
Well this gospel:
For whereso we dwell
Death will us quell
And with us mell.
For all our pampered paunches
There may no fraunchis,
Nor worldly bliss,
Redeem us from this:
Our days be dated
To be checkmated
With draughtës of death
Stopping our breath:
Our eyen sinking,
Our bodies stinking,
Our gummës grinning,
Our soulës brinning.
To whom, then, shall we sue,
For to have rescue,
But to sweet Jesu
On us then for to rue?
O goodly Child
Of Mary mild,
Then be our shield!
That we be not exiled
To the dyne dale
Nor to the lake
Of fiendës black.
But grant us grace
To see thy Face,
And to purcháse
Thine heavenly place,
And thy paláce
Full of soláce
Above the sky
That is so high:
Eternally
To behold and see
The Trinity!
Amen.
MY DARLING DEAR, MY DAISY FLOWER
With lullay, lullay, like a child,
Thou sleepest too long, thou art beguiled.
My darling dear, my daisy flower,
Let me, quod he, lie in your lap.
Lie still, quod she, my paramour,
Lie still, hardëly, and take a nap.
His head was heavy, such was his hap,
All drowsy dreaming, drowned in sleep,
That of his love he took no keep.
With hey lullay, lullay, like a child,
Thou sleepest too long, thou art beguiled.
With ba, ba, ba! and bas, bas, bas!
She cherished him both cheek and chin,
That he wist never where he was:
He had forgotten all deadly sin.
He wanted wit her love to win:
He trusted her payment and lost all his pay;
She left him sleeping and stole away.
With hey lullay, lullay, like a child,
Thou sleepest too long, thou art beguiled.
The rivers rough, the waters wan,
She sparëd not to wet her feet;
She waded over, she found a man
That halsëd her heartily and kissed her sweet:
Thus after her cold she caught a heat.
My love, she said, routeth in his bed;
Ywis he hath an heavy head.
With hey lullay, lullay, like a child,
Thou sleepest too long, thou art beguiled.
What dreamest thou, drunkard, drowsy pate?
Thy lust and liking is from thee gone;
Thou blinkard blowbowl, thou wakest too late,
Behold thou liest, luggard, alone!
Well may thou sigh, well may thou groan,
To deal with her so cowardly:
Ywis, pole hatchet, she bleared thine eye.
TO MISTRESS ANNE
Mistress Anne,
I am your man,
As you may well espy.
If you will be
Content with me,
I am your man.
But if you will
Keep company still
With every knave that comes by,
Then you will be
Forsaken of me,
That am your man.
But if you fain,
I tell you plain,
If I presently shall die,
I will not such
As loves too much,
That am your man.
For if you can
Love every man
That can flatter and lie,
Then are ye
No match for me,
That am your man.
No such kind of make
(May all full well it try!),
But off will ye cast
At any blast,
That am your man.
TO MISTRESS MARGERY WENTWORTH
With marjoram gentle,
The flower of goodlihead,
Embroidered the mantle
Is of your maidenhead.
Plainly I cannot glose;
Ye be, as I divine,
The pretty primrose,
The goodly columbine.
With marjoram gentle,
The flower of goodlihead,
Embroidered the mantle
Is of your maidenhead.
Benign, courteous, and meek,
With wordës well devised;
In you, who list to seek,
Be virtues well comprised.
With marjoram gentle,
The flower of goodlihead,
Embroidered the mantle
Is of your maidenhead.
L’ENVOY: TO HIS BOOK
Go, little quair,
Demean you fair;
Take no despair,
Though I you wrate
After this rate
In English letter;
So much the better
Welcome shall ye
To some men be;
For Latin works
Be good for clerks;
Yet now and then
Some Latin men
May haply look
Upon your book,
And so proceed
In you to read,
That so indeed
Your fame may spread
In length and bread.
But then I dread
Ye shall have need
You for to speed
To harness bright,
By force of might,
Against envy
And obloquy;
And wote ye why?
Not for to fight
Against despite,
Nor to derain
Scornful disdain,
Nor for to chide,
Nor for to hide
You cowardly;
But courteously
For to defend,
Under the banner
Of all good manner,
Under protection
Of sad correction,
With toleration
And supportation
Of reformation,
If they can spy
Circumspectly
Any word defacëd
That might be ’rasëd,
Else ye shall pray
Them that ye may
Continue still
With their good will.
blo: livid.
wan: without light, i.e., blood.
encheason: cause.
mowëd: mocked.
bobbëd: pummeled.
race: cut, slash.
wyderëd: withered.
shyderëd: splintered.
fell: skin.
mell: mingle.
fraunchis: immunity.
draughtës: moves or attacks in chess; also, a pun on breathing or drinking in something.
brinning: burning.
dyne dale: dark pit.
bootless: hopeless, irremediable.
bale: evil; also, consuming fire.
lake: play or sport.
Myrres vous y: view yourself therein.
hardëly: by all means.
wist: knew.
halsëd: embraced.
routeth: snores or belches.
Ywis: indeed.
pole hatchet: lit., poleax; i.e., blockhead, hatchet face, etc.
make: mate, mistress.
quair: quire; i.e., book.
demean: comport.
wrate: wrote.
rate: standard; also a pun on “cost” or “expense.”
wote: know.
derain battle again: justify, vindicate, maintain in combat against.