/^f^l^ ^2^ £/^/^i:=, ^,^y^ ^94'. NERAL ?ti B.jng BoiertJ of imprinted at %onion iH.iiCCC.xxxir. (i UNIVERSITY \ ^ OF ONLY THIRTY COPIES PRINTKI), AND NOT FOR SALE. PRINTED BY CHARLES WHITTIUQHAM 18S0 The following little Poem is transcribed from a manuscript volume in the Harleian collection, numbered " Plutarch, 1701," containing several other early poems of a different character, ap- parently written in the early part of the fifteenth century.* The work had been analysed by Warton and Ellis ; the former of whom has given a very considerable extract from a MS. (^Vernon) in the Bodleian Library, at Oxford; but the latter has used the same original as this. Other mauvscripis of the same romance are also to be found in the Pub* lie Library at Cambridge, and in the Library of Cuius College, in that University, There appear to be trivial discrepancies in these several copies. * In the fly-leaf of this volume is this note, written in an ancient hand, and now almost obliterated, ** This booke was written in Anno Domini, 1303." 106115 nutwitlislaiuiing the incidents generally agree, and the phraseology is not materially different. Robert of Sicily has never before been printed, although the late Mr. Weber had made a transcript of it with that view. The story appears to be founded on that of the Emperor Jovinian, the twenty-third in the late valuable publication of the English Gesta RomanO' rum, by the Roiburghe Club, and is so stated by ike learned editor of that ivork. This tale is alluded to by Chaucer, in v. 751 1 . A resemblance has also been remarked between Robert of Sicily and the Story rf Syr Gowghter, reprinted in a collection of Early Popular Poetry, published in 1817 ; and it has also been likened to the romance rf Robert the Devil. The miracle play of that name wa.s printed at Rouen in 1836, from a MS, of the fourteenth century in the Royal Library at Paris ; and in the following year, a romance poem with a similar title was published from a MS, of the thirteenth century, in the same rich collection. In the preface to this latter work, this similarity has been remarked by its editor, M. Trebutien, who says," Le Roman du roi Robert de Sicile, paroit offrir quelques rapports avec lesaven- iures du Herds Normand.'' These coincidences, Jiowever, are not very strong, and are altogether denied by Mr. Payne Collier ^ who says, " Both Warton and his late editor speak of the connexio7i between the romances of Robert of Sicily and Robert the Devil, hut they have in fact no resemblance eitht-r in cliuraclcr or incidents,^' Histoi'y of the Stage, i. 116. I learn from the same authority that a play, founded on this story, and with a similar title, was performed at Chester in 1529. Of THE \ KYNG ROBERD OF CYSYLLE. pRYNCES proude that beth yn pres -■- .1 wol zow telle of thyng no les In Cysylle was a noble kyng Fayre and stronge and sumdele zung He hadde a brother yn grate Rome Pope oueral crystyndome Another brother yn Almayne Emperoure whom Sarysyns wroughte payne The kyng was bote kyng Roberd Neuer man wyste hym a ferd He was kyng of grete honoure And yclepyd he was conqueroure In alle the worlde ne was hys pere For to acounte fer ne nere And for he was of chyualry floure Hys brother was made emperoure 8 KYNG ROBERD Hys other brother Goddys vykere Pope of Rome as y seyde ere The pope hyghte pope Vrban He loued bothe God and man The emperour liyghte Gyre Valemownde A strengur werryour was never none founde He sente aftyr hys brother of Cysyle Of whom y shal zow telle awhyle The kyng thoghte he hadde no pere In alle the worlde fer ne nere In that thoghte he hadde pryde For he was nom pere yn eche cyde And yn a nyzt of seynt Jone The tyng come to the cherche anone For to here hys euynsong He thoghte hys dwellyng ther ful long He thoghte more on worldly onoure Than on Criste oure sauyoure In magnificat he herde a vers He made a clerk hyt hym reherce In langage of hys owne tunge For he wyste nat what they songe The vers was thys y telle the Deposuit potentes de sede OF CYSYLLE. Et exaltauit humiles Thys was tlie vers wytlioutyn les The clerk seyd a none ryzt Sere whych ys Goddys myzt That he may make hyghe low« And the lowe hyghe yn lytyl throwe He may do wyth cute lye Hys wylle yn twynklyng of an ye ^ The kyng seyd wyth thought vnstable Thys song ys fals and fable What man hath swyche powere To brynge me lowe yn daungere I am floure of chyualrye Myn enmyys y may destroye Ther ys no man that lyueth yn londe That may azen me wythstonde Than ys thys a songe of nought Thys errour he hadde yn hys thozt And yn hys thoght a slepe hym toke In hys pulpyt so seyth the boke Whan the euynsong was alle done A kyng hym lyke oute gan gone And alle men wyth hym ganne wynde Kvng Roberd lefte of mynde 10 KYNG ROBERD S The newe kyng was Y the telle Goddys aung^el hys pryde to felle The aungel vn luille ioye made And alle men of" hym were glade The kyng a woke that lay yn cherche ^DHys men he thoughte wo to werche For he was lefte there a lone And derk nyzt hjnn felle vp one He gan crye aftyr hys men But ther was none that spak azen 5^Saue the sexteyn at the nende Oute of the cherche to hym gan wende And sayde what doste thou here Thou fals thefe thou losengere Thou art here wyth felonye ^^>Holy cherche to robbery He seyde foule gadlyng Y am no thefe Y am a kyng Opene the cherche dore a none That Y mowe to my palys gone S The sexteyn thoghte anone wyth than That he hadde be sum wode man And opened the cherche dore in haste The kyng began to ren faste OF CYSVLLE. 11 As a man that was wode iJfOAnd at his palys gate stode And clepyd the porter gadelyn<^ And badde hyra come yn hyghyng A none the gates vp to do The porter sey he clepeth so 5 He Tinswered ryzt a none Thou shalt wete ar we gone Thy lorde Y am thou shalt hyt knowe In prisoun thou shalt lyyge lowe And be hanged and to drawe 1 ir*' As a traytur be the lawe Thou shalt wetyn Y am kyng Opene the gatys gadelyng The porter seyd so mote Y the The kyng ys now wyth hys meyne Wei Y wote wythoutyn doute The kyng ys not now wyth oute The porter went yn to halle Before the aungel on kne gan falle And seyd ther ys at the gate A nyce fole ycome late He seyth he ys lorde and kyng And clepeth me foule gadelyng 12 KYNG ROBERD Lorde what wylle ze that Y do Late hym ynne or late hym go The aungel seyde yn haste Do hym come yn swythe faste For my fole Y wyl hym make Tyl he the name of kyng forsake The porter come to the gate And hym cleped yn to late He smote the porter whan he cam ynne The blode haste oute of mouthe and chynne The porter and hys men yn baste Kyng Roberd yn a podel kaste Vnsemely was hys body than That was lyke none other man They broughte hym before the newe kyng And seyd lorde thys gadelyng Me hath smetyn wythoutyn desert And seyth he ys oure kyng apert To me he seyth none outher worde But that he ys bothe kyng and lorde The treytur myzte for hys sawe Beyn yhanged and to drawe The aungel seyd to Kyng Roberd Thou art a fole thou art not a ferd OF CYSYLLE. 13 My men to do swyche vylonye Thy gylte thou maste nedes abye What art thou seyd the aungel Seyd Roberd thou shalt wyte wel I am kyng and kyng wol be Wyth wronge thou hast my dygnyte The pope of Rome is my brother And the emperour of Almeyn myn other They wylle me wreke Y ye telle Y wote they wyl not longe dwelle Thou art my fole seyd the aungel Thou shalt be shore euery del Lyke a fole a fole to be For thou hast now no dygnyte Thyn counseyloure shal be an ape And o clothyug zow shal be shape 1 shal Iiym clothyn as thy brother Of o clothyng hyt ys none other He shal beyn thyn owne fere Sum wytte of hym thou myzt lere Houndes how so hyt befalle Shul ete wyth the yn the halle Thou shalt etyn on the gronnde Thy savour shal beyn an hounde 14 KYNG ROBERD I'o a save thy mete before the For thou haste lore thy dygnyte He clepyd a barbur hym before That as a fole shulde he be shore AUe a rounde lyke a frere An hondbrede a])0ue the ere And on hys crowne maLyn a croys He gan crye and make noys And seyd they shulde alle abye That hym ded swyche vylonye And euer he seyd he was lorde And eche man skorned hyra for hys worde And eche man seyd he was wode That preuyd wel he coude no gode For he wend yn no wyse That God coude devyse Hym to brynge to logher state Wyth a draght he was chek mate Ther was yn courte grome ne page That of the kyng ne made grete rage For no man shulde hym knowe He was dysfygured yn a throwe To eche man he was vndyrlyng Alas here was a delful thvng OF CYSYLLE. 16 That he shulde for hys pryde Swych hap amonge hys men betydc For hys grete vnbuxuinnesse God put hym yn other lykenesse Hungur and thryste he hadde grete For he muste ete no mete But houndys etyn of hys dyshe Were hyt flesshe were hyt fysshe He was to deth ny bioghte For hungyr or he wulde ete oghte Wyth houndys that were yn halle How myzte hym hardere befalle Whan hyt wulde none other be He ate wyth houndes grete plente Wyth houndes euery nyzt he lay And oft he cryed welawey That he euer was bore For he was a man forlore The aungel asked euery day Foole art thou king thou me say Ze he seyde hyt shal be knowe Y am kyng though Y be lowe Thou art my foole seyd the aungel Thou art a fole and that ys del k 16 KYNG ROBERD The aungel was kyng hym thozte longe In hys tyme was neuer done wronge Trecherye falshede ne no gyle Don yn the londe of Cysyle A lie gode ther was grete plente Amonge men loue and char\'te Euery man loued wel other Bettyr loue was neuer wyth brother In hys tjone was neuer no stryfe Betwene man and hys wyfe Than was thys a joyful thyng In londe to haue swyche a kyng Kyng he was thre zere and more Koberd zede as fole forlore ff Sethe hyt fel vpp on a day A ly tyl before the moneth of may Syre Valemounde the Emperoure Sente letters of grete honoure To hys brother of Cysyle k^Tig And bad hym come wyth oute lett3mg That they myghte bothe yn come Wyth here brother the pope of Rome Hym thought longe they were atwynne He badde h3rm lette for no wynne OF CYSYLLE. 17 I'liat be were of gode aray In Rome an holy thiirstlay The aungel welcomed the messangers And zaue hem clothes ryche of perer}^s Furryd alle wyth ermyne In alle crystyndome were none so fyne And alle were couched with perye Was neuer better wyth oute lye Of that wuiK3red alle the londe How that clothe was wrought wyth honde For zyf swyche clothe were to dyghte Alle crystendom make hyt ne myghte Where swyche clothe were to selle Ne who yt made coude no man telle The messangers wente wyth the kyng To grete Rome wyth oute lettyng The foole Robard also wente Clothed yn lothely garaement Wyth fox tayles ryuen alle aboute JMen myzte hym knowyn yn the route An ape rode of hys clothyng So foule rode neuer kyng The aungel rode alle yn whyte Was neuer founde swyche amyzte 18 KYNG ROBERD Alle was whyte atyre and stede The stede was feyre there he zede So fayre a stede as he on rode Was neuer kyng that euer bestrode And so was alle hys aparayle Alle men hadde therof meruayle Hys men weryn alle rychely dyzte Here rychesse can sey no wyzte Of clothes gerdelys and outher thjmg Euery squyer thoght a kyng And alle were of ryche aray But kyng Roberd Y zow say Alle men on hym gan pyke For he rode other vnlyke The pope and the emperoure also And other lordys many mo Welcomed the aungel for kyng And made joye for hys comyng So ryal k}Tig come neuer in Rome Also men wondred whan he come Thes thre brethryn madym comforte The aungel was made brother be sorte Wei was Pope and Emperoure That hadde a brothej of swyche onowrc OF CYSYLLE. 19 Forthe com sterte kyng Robard As a fole nought af'erd And cryed wyth ful egur speche To hys bretliryn to done hym wreclie On hym that hadde wyth queynte gyle Hys crowne and londe of Cysyle Pope emperoure no none other Knew nat the fole for here brother Moche fole than was he holde More than er a thousend folde To cleyme swych a brotherliede Hyt was holde a fole dede Kyng Roberd gan to makyn care More than he ded euer are When hys brethyryn ne wulde hym knowe Alas he seyd now Y am lowe For he hoped for any thyng His brethryn wulde ha made hym kyng And whan hys hope was alle go Alias he seyd and wellawe Alas he seyde that Y was bom For now I am man forlorn Alas he seyde that Y was made For of my lyfe Y am alle sadde 20 KYNG ROBERD Alas he seyde Y am on lyue Sorwen thou art me ful ryue Alas he seyd and welawe Herte breste and clefe on two Alas Alas was alle hys song Hys here he tere hys handys he wrong And euer he seyd alas alias And than he thoghte on hys trespas ^ lie thought on Nabugodonosor A noble kyng was hym before In alle the worlde ne was hys pere For to a counte fer no nere Wyth hym was syre Olyuerne Prynce of knyztes stoute and sterna Olyuerne swore euer mor By god Nabugodonosor And seyde ther was no God yn londe But Nabugodonosor Y vndyrstonde Therfor Nabugodonosor was glad That he the name of god had And loued Olyuerne moche the more But seth hyt greued hem bothe sore Olyuerne deyde In doloure He was slawe yn sharpe showre OF CYSYLLE. 21 Nabugodonosor was yn desert Durst he nowhere ben apert Fyftene zere he lyiied there Wyth rotys gras and euylfare And alle of mos hys clothys was And alle hyt come by Goddys gras He cryed mercy wyth sory there God hym restored as he was ere Now am Y yn swych a cas And wel worse than he was Whan God zaue me swyche honoure That Y was cleped conqueroure In euery londe of Crystendome Folke speke of me wel yn lome And seydyn nowhere was my pere In alle the worlde fer no nere For that name Y hadde pryde As aungelys gun from heueiie glyde And yn twynklyng of an ye God fornom hem here maystrye So hath he me myn for my gulte Now am Y ful lowe pulte And that ys ryzt that Y so be Lorde on thy fole thou haue pyte 22 KYNG ROBERD That errur hath made me to smerte That Y hadde yn my herte Lorde Y lened not on the Lorde on thy foole thou haue pyte Holy wrytte Y hadde yn despyte Therfore renyd ys myn delyte Therfore ys ryzt a fole that Y he Lorde on thy fole thou haue pyte Lorde Y haue gulte the sore Mercy Lorde I wyl no more Euer thy foole Lorde wyl I be Lorde on thy foole then haue pyte Lorde thou haste me boghte and wroghte And zyt or now y knewe hyt nogte Than ys ryzt a fole that y be Lorde on thy foole then haue pyte Of my kyngedome greueth me noght Hyt ys for gulte wyth dede and thoghte At bettyr state kepe Y none be Lorde on thy fole thou haue pyte m Blyssful Marye thou were yn core To helpe man that was forlore Prey thy sone that deyde for me On hys fole he haue pytye OF CYSYLLE. Blyssful INIarye to the Y crye Thou art ful of curtesye Prey thy sone that deyde for me On hvs fole he haue pytye Blyssful Marye ful of grace To tlie Y knowlyche my trespace Prey thy sone that deyde for me On hys fole he haue pyte He seyde no more alas alas But thanked God of hys grace And thus he gan hymself stylle And thanked God wyth gode wylle The Pope the Emperoure and the Kyng Fyue wekys madyn here dwellyng Whan the fyue wekys were alle gone To here owne londe they wolden a none Bothe the Emperoure and the Kynge Ther was a fayre departyng The aungel come to Cysyle He and hys men yn a whyle Whan he come yn to halle The fole he ded furthe calle And seyde fole art thou kyng Nay syre he seyde wyth oute lesyng 24 KYNG ROBEBD What art thou seyde the aungel Syre a fole he seyde Y wote welle And more than a fole zyf hyt may be Kepe Y none of dygnyte The aungel yn to chaumbre went Aftyr the fole a none he sente He badde hys men out of chambre gon There lefte no mo but he alone And the fole that stode hym by To hym he seyde thou hast mercy God hath forzyue the thy mysdede And here aftyr thou hym drede Thenk thou were lowe pulte And alle was for thyn owne gulte The loweste state that may be Ys a fole how thenketh the A foole thou were to heuene kyng Therfore thou were vndyrlyng I am an aungel of renoun Sent to kepe thy Regyoun More ioye me shal falle In heuene a monge myn feryn alle In an oure of a day Than here Y the say OF CYSYLLE. 25 In an hundred thousand zere They alle the worlde fer and nere Were myn at my lykyng Y am an aungel thou art kyng He wente yn twynklyng of an yze No more of hym they seye K}Tig Robard come yn to halle Hys men he hadde furthe calle Alle they were at hys wylle As to here lorde and that was skylle He loued wel God and holy cherche And euer thoughte wel to werche He regned aftyr thre zere and more And loued God and alle his lore The aungel zaue hjnn yn warayng Of the tyme of hys deyyng Whan tyme come to deye sone He lete wryte sone anone How God wyth hys mochyl myzt Made hym lowe and that was ryzt Thys storye he sente euerydele To hys brethryn vndyr hys sele Whan tyme come he shulde deye That tjTne he deyde sothe to seye «6 KYNG ROBERD Hys brethiyn thoghtyn on the fole That cryde to hem and made dole And wystyn wel hyt was here brother Wyth oute doute hyt was none other In Cysyle wyste hyt many mo That weryn wyth hym whan hyt was so The Pope of Rome herof gan preche Alle crystyn men therof to teche That they shulde pryde forsake And gode vertues to hem take And seyde hys brother that was kyng How he for pryde was vndyrlyng For pryde wulde zyf hyt myzt ha be Surmounte Cry sty s dygnyte And ben alle at hys owne wylle Thus thurough pryde man may spylle Thys storye ys wythoutyn lye At Rome wrytyn In memory e At seynt Petyr cherche wel Y knowe That thus ys Crystys myzt Ysowe That lowe shul hyeze at Goddys wylle And heyze shul lowe thoght hyt be ylle Cryste that for vs wuldest deye In thy kyngdome lete vs be hye OF CYSYLLE. 27 Euer more to ben a boue Where ys bothe pes and loue God ^unte that hyt so be Amen. Amen, per chary te. / OF THE '^ f UNIVERSITY OF m^'- ^-m