The
Ne'r-do-Well's Tale
by Anglo-Norman
(An
extract from The Felpersham Tales)
The
next who roas to speek was a young manne,
"Myn name ys Edde, of Grundie stock I am,
Myne ys a tayle to split thy heart with grief,
To make thee weep, to make thee grynde thy teeth."
At
his lament Neil Carter gave a scoff,
And wyshed that Edde would uppe and just clear off.
Ignorynge thys young Grundy cleared his throat,
His tayle began, "If I could haf a groate
For ev'ry time foul evyl befell me
And brought misfortune on my familie..."
"Thou'd have one shilling fourpence" Clarrie said,
Now if thou's done with moaning I'm for bedde,"
Wrath was Edde and wrathword did he shout,
"Whatever, Mum, now stay and hear me out!
"A
farmer's boy am I, a sonne of soyle,
To keep the cattle happie would I toyle.
Alas! I may notte do the task I crave,
For fate hath left me cyrcumtances grave."
At thys he moaned and beat his breast tymes three
And caste a sadde glance at his familee.
"Do notte blame me!" the Elder Edward seyde,
"For 'twas yon Jazzer who messed with thy hede."
"I ne'r would e'r haf met that curséd Scotte
Hadde you payde the bills butte you did notte,
And so caste oute from goodely Graynge were we,
Myne Grandsyre, Mudher, Brothor you and me."
So protested Edde in outraged tone,
He wyshed that he could be juste left alone,
Butte thought it best for him to end his tayle,
And so his lyfe continued to bewayle.
"In
Council Flat I lyved a hell fylled lyfe,
Fed on ferrets, caused my muther stryfe.
The move to Keeper's Cottage gave respite
'Til drugges and things intoxicant gave frite."
"You're telling me!" cried Clarrie with a curse
"And yet the crashe inne cart was even worse."
"Thou know'st 'twas notte my fault" retorted Edde
"That Emma was layde up in 'spital bedde,
For I was forced to swerve to save a deer,
Alas, the Watch, they did notte care I fear.
Most grossely persecuted was poore I,
Their blows and curses nearlie made me cry."
"Myne
heart itte bleeds" didde Neil say with scorn,
"Better still if ye had not been borne."
Vex'd was Edde at thys unholie galle,
"I saved thy doghter" alle there heard him calle.
"Yet when I gave my love" they heard him thunder,
"She push'd me offe and crack'd my hearte assunder!"
At
thys young William's lip, it gave a tremoure,
"Thou lyest, slave, thou canst notte love my Emma!"
The girl, meantymes, avoided young Edde's gaze
And claimed his statement didde her quite amaze.
"And
stille there were foul blowes yet to be struck,"
Claimed Edde, "no end hadde come to myn badde luck.
First was I caut aburglarising tooles,
Which caused the Watch to curfew me, the fooles.
And then yon prattling tongues spread rumour badde
That it was me who was the slashing lad,
E'en though I would not harm a horse's haire -
I swear that you wille drive me to despare!"
At
this the ne'r-do-well stode and arose,
And with a "Woe is me!" he struck a pose,
Then gave his audyense defiant stare,
And next deflated, for there was no-one there.
For
more Chaucerian fun, read "The Archer's Tale" by David Humphries
More parodies
- from Agatha Christie to Damon Runyon
