UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES RELIQUES OF iicicnt l^^nnliolj l^nEttp, CONSISTING OF OLD HEROIC BALLADS, SONGS, AND OTHER PIECES OF OUR EARLIER POETS, TOGETHER WITH SOME FEW OF LATER DATE, B V T H () MAS PERCY. D. D , BISHOP OF DROMORE, EDITED, WITH A GENERAL INTRODUCTION, ADDITIONAL PREFACES, NOTES, ETC., BY HENRY B. WHEATLEY, F.S.A. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. L O N D O iN : BICKERS AND SON, I, LFJCESTER SQUARE. 1876. CHISWICK PRESS : —PRINTED BY WHITTINGHAM AND WILKINS, TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE. ./ CONTENTS OF VOLUME THE FIRST. gniTOR'S Preface .... GENERAL INTRODUCTION. The Minstrels Ballads and Ballad Writers Imitators and Forgers Authenticity of Certain Ballads Preservers of the Ballads . Life of Percy . Folio MS. and the Rcliques Ballad Literature since Percy Dedications .... Advertisement to the fourth edition Preface ..... Page ix Xlll xxiv xliv xlviii Iviii Ixxi Ixxxi xci I 4 7 BOOK THE FIRST. 1. The ancient Ballad of Chevy-chase 2. The Battle of Otterbourne Illustration of the Names in the foregoing ballads The Jew's Daughter. A Scottish Ballad Sir Cauline ........ Copy from the Folio MS. .... Edward, Edward. A Scottish Ballad . 6. King Estmere ....... On the word Termagant .... Sir Patrick Spence. A Scottish Ballad Robin Hood and Guy of Cisborne 9. An Elegy on Henry Fourth, Earl of Northumberland by Skelton ....... 10. The Tower of Doctrine, by Stephen Hawes . 7- 8. 19 35 51 54 61 76 82 85 96 98 102 "7 127 vi CONTENTS. 11. The Child of Elle . . . . Fragment from the FoHo MS. 12. Edom o' Gordon. A Scottish Ballad . Captain Carre, from the Folio MS. Page 131 138 140 148 BOOK THE SECOND. ( Containing Ballads that illustrate Shakespeare) 1. Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudesley ....... 2. The aged Lover renounceth Love, by Lord Vaux —3. Jephthah judge of Israel .... 4. A Robyn Jolly Robyn .... 5. A Song to the lute in musicke, by R. Edwards 6. King Cophetua and the Beggar-maid . 7. Take thy old cloak about thee 8. Willow, Willow, Willow 9. Sir Lancelot du Lake . 10. Corydon's Farewell to Phillis The Ballad of constant Susanna 11. Gernutus the Jew of Venice 12. The passionate Shepherd to his Love, by Marlowe The Nymph's Reply, by Sir W. Raleigh iT^. Titus Andronicus's Complaint 14. Take those lips away .... 15. King Leir and his three daughters 16. Youth and Age, by Shakespeare . 17. The Frolicksome Duke, or the Tinker's good Fortune 18. The Friar of Orders Gray, by Percy . 153 179 182 185 187 189 195 199 204 209 209 211 220 223 224 230 231 237 238 242 5- 6. 1- BOOK THE THIRD. The more modern Ballad of Chevy-chace . . . 249 Illustration of the Northern Names . . . 263 Death's final Conquest, by James Shirley . . . 264 The Rising in the North . . . . . .266 Copy from the Folio MS 274 Northumberland betrayed by Douglas . . -279 Copy from the Folio MS. ..... 289 My Mind to me a Kingdom is, by Sir Edward Dyer . 294 The Patient Countess, by W. Warner . . . .298 Dowsabell, by M. Drayton ..... 304 CONTENTS. vii Page 8. The Farewell to Love, from Beaumont and Fletcher . 310 9. Ulysses and the Syren, by S. Daniel . . . -311 10. Cupid's Pastime, by Davison . . . . -314 11. The character of a happy life, by Sir H, Wotton . -317 12. Gilderoy. A Scottish Lallad . . . . .318 13. Winifreda . . . . . . . . -323 14. The Witch of Wokey 325 15. Bryan and Pereene. A West Indian Ballad, by Dr. Grainger ........ 328 16. Gentle River, Gentle River. Translated from the Spanish 33 1 17. ^Vlcanzor and Zayda, a Moorish Tale .... 338 APPENDIX I. An Essay on the Ancient Minstrels in England . . . 343 Notes and Illustrations ....... 382 APPENDIX II. On the Origin of the English Stage, &c 43 1 Index to Vol. 1 459 ERRATA. Page 27, Note f, after Fit read " see vol. 2, p. 182." Page 76, add *.;^* at end oi Sir Cauline. EDITOR'S PREFACE. kJ-?^J^^^^ undertakin*. 12 PREFACE. The plan of the work was settled in concert with the late elegant Mr. Shenstone, who was to have borne a joint share in it had not death unhappily pre- vented him*: most of the modern pieces were of his selection and arrangement, and the editor hopes to be pardoned if he has retained some things out of partiality to the judgment of his friend. The old folio MS. above-mentioned was a present from Hum- phrey Pitt, Esq., of Prior's-Lee, in Shropshire,t to whom this public acknowledgement is due for that, and many other obliging favours. To Sir David Dalrymple, Bart,, of Hailes, near Edinburgh, the editor is indebted for most of the beautiful Scottish poems with which this little miscellany is enriched, and for many curious and elegant remarks with which they are illustrated. Some obliging communications of the same kind were received from John Mac- Gowan, Esq., of Edinburgh ; and many curious ex- planations of Scottish words in the glossaries from John Davidson, Esq., of Edinburgh, and from the Rev. Mr. Hutchinson, of Kimbolton. Mr. Warton, who has twice done so much honour to the Poetry Professor's chair at Oxford, and Mr. Hest, of Wor- * That the editor hath not here under-rated the assistance he received from his friend, will appear from Mr. Shenstone's own letter to the Rev. Mr. Graves, dated March i, 1761. See his Wo7-ks, vol. iii. letter cii. It is doubtless a great loss to this work that Mr. Shenstone never saw more than about a third of one of these volumes, as prepared for the press. t Who informed the editor that this MS. had been purchased in a library of old books, which was thought to have belonged to Thomas Blount, Author of the Jocular Tenures, 1679, 4to. and of many other publications enumerated in Wood's Atheiice, ii. 73 ; the earliest of which is The Art of making Devises, 1646, 4to. wherein he is described to be " of the Inner Temple." If the col- lection was made by this lawyer (who also published the Law Dictionary, 167 1, folio), it should seem, from the errors and defects with which the MS. abounds, that he had employed his clerk in writing the transcripts, who was often weary of his task. PREFACE. 13 cester College, contributed some curious pieces from the Oxford libraries. Two inorenious and learned friends at Cambridge deserve the editor's warmest acknowledgements : to Mr. Blakeway, late fellow of Magdalen College, he owes all the assistance received from the Pepysian library : and Mr. Farmer, fellow of Emanuel, often exerted, in favour of this little work, that extensive knowledge of ancient English literature for which he is so distinguished.* Many extracts from ancient MSS. in the British Museum, and other repositories, were owing to the kind ser- * To the same learned and ingenious friend, since Master of Emanuel College, the editor is obliged for many con-ections and improvements in his second and subsequent editions ; as also to the Rev. Mr. Eowle, of Idmistone, near Salisbury, editor of the curious edition of Don Quixote, \vith Annotations in Spanish, in 6 vols. 4to. ; to the Rev. Mr. Cole, formerly of Blecheley, near Fenny-Stratford, Bucks ; to the Rev. Mr. Lambe, of Noreham, in Northumberland (author of a learned History of Chess, 1764, 8vo. and editor of a curious Foetn on the Battle of Flodden Field, with learned Notes, 1774, 8vo.) ; and to G. Paton, Esq., of Edinburgh. He is particularly indebted to two friends, to whom the public as well as himself, are under the greatest obligations ; to the Hon- ourable Daines Barrington, for his very learned and curious Obser- vations on the Statutes, 4to. ; and to Thomas Tynvhitt, Esq., whose most correct and elegant edition of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, 5 vols. 8vo. is a standard book, and shows how an ancient English classic should be published. The editor was also favoured witli many valuable remarks and corrections from the Rev. Geo. Ashl)y, late fellow of St. John's College, in Cambridge, which are not particularly pointed out because they occur so often. He was no less obliged to Thomas Butler, Esq., F.A.S., agent to the Duke of Northumberland, and Clerk of the Peace for the County of Middlesex, whose extensive knowledge of ancient writings, re- cords, and history, have been of great use to the editor in his attempts to illustrate the literature or manners of our ancestors. Some valuable remarks were procured by Samuel Pegge, Esq., author of that curious work the Curialia, 4to. ; but this impression was too far advanced to profit by them all ; which hath also been the case with a series of learned and ingenious annotations inserted in the Gefitlcman's Magazine for August, 1793, April, June, July, and October, 1794, and which, it is hoped, will be continued. 14 PREFACE. vices of Thomas Astle, Esq., to whom the public is indebted for the curious Preface and Index annexed to the Harleyan Catalogue.* The worthy Librarian of the Society of Antiquaries, Mr. Norris, deserved acknowledgement for the obliging manner in which he gave the editor access to the volumes under his care. In Mr. Garrick's curious collection of old plays are many scarce pieces of ancient poetry, with the free use of which he indulged the editor in the politest manner. To the Rev. Dr. Birch he is in- debted for the use of several ancient and valuable tracts. To the friendship of Dr. Samuel Johnson he owes many valuable hints for the conduct of the work. And, if the Glossaries are more exact and curious than might be expected in so slight a publication, it is to be ascribed to the supervisal of a friend, who stands at this time the first in the world for northern literature, and whose learning is better known and respected in foreign nations than in his own country. It is, perhaps, needless to name the Rev. Mr. Lye, editor of Jwiiuss Etymologicwn, and of the Gothic Gospels. The names of so many men of learning and char- acter the editor hopes will serve as an amulet to guard him from every unfavourable censure, for having bestowed any attention on a parcel of old ballads. It was at the request of many of these gentlemen, and of others eminent for their genius and taste, that this little work was undertaken. To prepare it for the press has been the amusement of now and then a vacant hour amid the leisure and re- tirement of rural life, and hath only served as a re- laxation from graver studies. It has been taken up at different times, and often thrown aside for many months, during an interval of four or five years. This * Since Keeper of the Records in the Tower. PRE FA CE. 15 has occasioned some inconsistencies and repetitions, which the candid reader will pardon. As great care has been taken to admit nothing immoral and in- decent, the editor hopes he need not be ashamed of havine bestowed some of his idle hours on the ancient literature of our own country, or in rescuing- from oblivion some pieces (though but the amuse- ments of our ancestors) which tend to place in a striking light their taste, genius, sentiments, or man- ners. Except in one paragraph, this Preface is given with little varia- tion from the first edition in MDCCLXV. I RELIOUES OF ANCIENT POETRY, ETC. SERIES THE FIRST. BOOK I. I never heard the olde song of Percy and Duglas, that I found not my heart mooved more then with a trumpet : and yet is it sung but by some bHnde crouder, with no rougher voyce, then rude stile ; which being so evill apparelled in the dust and cobwebbes of that uncivill age, what would it worke, trymmed in the gorgeous eloquence of Pindar I — Sir PJiilip Sidney's Apologie for Poetrie, 1595. I. THE ANCIENT BALLAD OF CHEVY CHASE. HE fine heroic song of C/iay-C/iasc has ever been admired by competent judges. Those genuine strokes of nature and artless passion, which have endeared it to the most simple readers, have recommended it to the most refined ; and it has equally been the amusement of our childhood, and the favourite of our riper years. iSIr. Addison has given an excellent critique* on this very popular ballad, but is mistaken with regard to the antiquity of the common-received copy; for this, if one may judge from the style, cannot be older than the time of Ehzabeth, and was probably written after the elogium of Sir Philip Sidney : perhaps in conse- quence of it. I flatter myself, I have here recovered the genuine antique poem ; the true original song, which appeared rude even in the time of Sir Philip, and caused him to lament, that it was so evil-apparelled in the nigged garb of antiquity. This curiosity is printed, from an old manuscript,! at the end of Heame's preface to Gul. Newbrigiensis Hist. 1719, 8vo. vol. i. To the MS. copy is subjoined the name of the author, Rychard Sheale;! whom Hearne had so little judgement as to supjiose to Le the same with a R. Sheale, who was living in 158S. But whoever examines the gradation of language and idiom in the following volumes, will be convinced that this is the production • Spectator, Nos. 70, 74. t [MS. Ashmole, 48, in the Bodleian Library. The Rev. W. W. Skeat has printed the ballad from the MS. in his Specimens of Eu^lisli Literature, 1394-1579. Clarendon Press Series, 187!.] \ Subscribed, after the usual manner of our old poets, expliceth (explicit) quoth Rychard Sheale. 20 ANCIENT BALLAD of an earlier poet. It is indeed expressly mentioned among some very ancient songs in an old book intituled, The Complaint of Scot- land* (fol. 42), under the tide of the Hiintis of Chevet, where the two following lines are also quoted: — " The Perssee and the Mongumrye mette, f That day, that day, that gentil day : " | which, tho' not quite the same as they stand in the ballad, yet difter not more than might be owing to the author's quoting from memory. Indeed whoever considers the style and orthography of this old poem will not be inclined to place it lower than the time of Henry VI. : as on the other hand the mention of James the Scottish King, § with one or two anachronisms, forbids us to assign it an earlier date. King James I. who was prisoner in this kingdom at the death of his father, || did not wear the crown of Scotland till the second year of our Henry VI. ,11 but before the end of that long reign a third James had mounted the throne.** A succession of two or three Jameses, and the long detention of one of them in England, would render the name familiar to the Enghsh, and dispose a poet in those rude times to give it to any Scottish king he happened to mention. So much for the date of this old ballad : with regard to its sub- ject, altho' it has no countenance from history, there is room to think it had originally some foundation in fact. It was one of the Laws of the Marches frequently renewed between the two nations, that neither party should hunt in the other's borders, without leave from the proprietors or their deputies. ft There had long been a * One of the earliest productions of the Scottish press, now to be found. The title-page was wanting in the copy here quoted ; but it is supposed to have been printed in 1540. See Ames. [It is now believed to have been printed in 1549. See the new edition by J. A. H. Murray, printed for the Early English Text Society (Extra Series), 1872.] t See Pt. ii. v. 25. J See Pt. i. v. 99. § Pt. ii. V. 36, 140. 11 Who died Aug. 5, 1406, in the 7th year of our Hen. IV. H James I. was crowned May 22, 1424; murdered Feb. 21, 1436-7- ** In 1460.— Hen. VI. was deposed 1461 : restored and slain 1471. tj- Item. . . . Concordatum est, quod, . . . nullus unius partis vel alterius ingrediatur terras, boschas, forrestas, warrenas, loca, dominia quacunque alicujus partis alterius subditi, causa venandi, piscandi, aucupandi, disportum aut solatium in eisdem, aliave quacunque d© causa, absque licentia ejus ... ad quem . . . loca OF CHEVY CHASE. 21 rivalship between the two martial families of Percy and Douglas, which heightened by the national quarrel, must have produced frequent challenges and struggles for superiority, petty invasions of their respective domains, and sharp contests for the point of honour ; which would not always be recorded in history. Some- thing of this kind, we may suppose, gave rise to the ancient ballad of the Hunting a! the C/ia'iat* Percy earl of Northumberland had vowed to hunt for three days in the Scottish border without condescending to ask leave from earl Douglas, who was either lord of the soil, or lord warden of the marches. Douglas would not fail to resent the insult, and endeavour to repel the intruders by force ; this would naturally produce a sharp conflict between the two parties : something of which, it is probable, did really happen, tho'.not attended with the tragical circumstances recorded in the ballad : for th^se are CAidently borrowed from the Battle of Otter- l>ourn,-\ a very different event, but ^^■hich aftertimes would easily confound with it. That battle might be owing to some such pre- vious affront as this of Chevy Chase, though it has escaped the notice of historians. Our poet has evidently jumbled the two sub- jects together : if indeed the lines.]: in which this mistake is made, are not rather spurious, and the after-insertion of some person, who did not distinguish between the two stories. Hearne has printed this ballad without any division of stanzas, in long lines, as he found it in the old written copy ; but it is usual to find the distinction of stanzas neglected in ancient MSS. ; where, to save room, two or three verses are frequently given in one line undivided. See flagrant instances in the Harleian Catalogue, No. 2253, s. 29, 34, 61, 70, et passim. [Bishop Percy did well to open his book with C/iay Chase and the Battle of Otterburn, as these two are by far the most remarkable of the old historical ballads still left to us, and all Englishmen must feel peculiar interest in CJievy Chase, as it is one of the few northern ballads that are the exclusive growth of the south side of the Border. The partizanship of the Englishman is very amusingly brought out in verses 145-154, where we learn that the Scotch king had no captain in his realm equal to the dead Douglas, but that the English king had a hundred captains as good as Percy. A ballad which stirred the soul of Sidney and caused Ben Jonson to wish that he had been the author of it rather than . . . pertinent, aut de deputatis suis prius capt. et obtent. Vid. Bp. Nicolson's Leges Marchianini, 1705, 8vo. pp. 27, 51. * This was the original title. See the ballad, Pt. i. v. 101 ; Pt. ii. V. 165. t Sec the next ballad. \ Vid. Pt. ii. v. 167. 22 ANCIENT BALLAD of all his own works cannot but be dear to all readers of taste and feeling. The old version is so far superior to the modern one (see Book iii. No. i) that it must ever be a source of regret that Addison, who elegantly analyzed the modern version, did not know of the original. It will be well to arrange under three heads the subjects on which a few words require to be added to Percy's preface, viz. I. the title, 2. the occasion, 3. the author, i. In the old version the title given in the ballad itself is the hunting of the Cheznat, and in the Complaynt of Scotlande it is referred to as The Huntis of Chevot. The title of the modern version is changed to Chevy Chase, which Dr. E. B. Nicholson has suggested to be derived from the old French word chevauchee, a foray or expedition (see Notes and Queries, 3rd series, vol. xii. p. 124) ; but this explanation is not needed, as the original of the modern title is found in ver. 62 as Chyviat Chays, which naturally became contracted into Chevy Chase, a.^ ^Teviotdale vaXo Tevidale (ver. 50). 2. The ballad is so completely unliistorical that it is difficult to give any opinion as to the occasion to which it refers, but appa- rently it was written, as Bishop Percy remarks, to commemorate a defiant expedition of one of the Lords of the Marches upon the domain of another, but that the names of Percy and Douglas led the writer into a confusion with the battle of Otterburn, which was fresh in the people's memory owing to the ballad of the Battle of Otterburn. In fact Professor Child throws out the hint that possibly Sidney referred to the Battle of Otterburn and not to the Hunting of the Cheviat, as he only mentions the old song of Percie and Douglas, but it has so long been believed that Sidney spoke of Chevy Chase that we should be sorry to think otherwise now. In the note immediately following the modern version (see Book iii. No. I.) Bishop Percy suggests the possibility that the ballad may refer to the battle of Pepperden fought in 1436, but this view is highly improbable for the following reason. In both the ancient and modern versions the battle of Humbledown is alluded to as a future event caused by the death of Percy at Chevy Chase. Now as Humbledown was fought in the year 1402, and as the battle of Otterburn was the only conflict of importance on the Borders which preceded it, and as, moreover, Otterburn is mentioned in the ballad, there cannot well be any reference to a battle fought so many years afterwards. 3. Bishop Percy is unnecessarily severe in his remark upon Heame, as that learned antiquary was probably correct in identi- fying the Richard Sheale of the old ballad with Richard Sheale the minstrel. Whether, however, the latter was the author, as is argued by C. in Brydges' British Bibliographer (vol. 4, pp. 95- 105), is another matter. The other examples of the minstrel's OF CHEVY CHASE. 23 muse are so inferior to this ballad that it is impossible to believe him to be the author. Doubtless it was recited by him, and being associated with his name the transcriber may naturally have sup- posed him to be its maker. Sheale really flourished (or withered, as j\Ir. Hales has it) at a rather earher period than the date 1588 mentioned by Percy would lead us to imagine, for he appears to have been writing before 1560, nevertheless the language is of a much earlier date than this, and, moreover, a ballad of the Borders is not likely to have been invented at Tamworth, where Sheale lived. Chexy Chase was long a highly popular song, and Bishop Corbet, in his Journey into Franee, speaks of having sung it in his youth. The antiquated beau in Davenant's play of the Wits also prides himself on being able to sing it, and in IVifs Inter- preter, 167 1, a man when enumerating the good qualities of his wife, cites after the beauties of her mind and her patience " her curious voice wherewith she useth to sing C/iay C/iace." Many other ballads were sung to the same tune, so that we are not always sure as to whether the original is referred to or some more modem song. The philosopher Locke, when Secretary to the Embassy sent by Charles II. to the Elector of Brandenburg, wrote home a description of the Brandenburg church singing, in which he says, " He that could not though he had a cold make better music with a chevy chace over a pot of smooth ale, deserved well to pay the reckoning and to go away athirst." * The wTiter here probably referred to any song sung to this tune.] THE FIRST FIT.t ^^^■^^^^HE Pers6 owt of Northombarlande. And a vowe^ to God mayd he, That he wolde hunte in the mountayns Off Chyviat within dayes thre, In the mauger"^ of doughte Dogles, And all that ever with him be. Ver. 5, niagger in Hearne's PC [Printed Copy.] fChappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, vol. i. p. 198 ; vol. ii. p. 774. J t Fit. see ver. 100. [1 should bu " an avowe," a vow (see v. 157, Fit. 2). - in spite of.] 24 ANCIENT BALLAD The fattiste hartes in all Cheviat He sayd he wold kill, and cary them away : Be my feth, sayd the dougheti Doglas agayn, I wyll let^ that hontyng yf that I may. lo Then the Perse owt of Banborowe cam, With him a myghtye meany ;^ With fifteen hondrith archares bold ; The wear chosen out of shyars thre.* This begane on a monday at morn 15 In Cheviat the hillys so he ;^ The chyld may rue that ys un-born. It was the mor pitte. The dryvars thorowe the woodes went For to reas'* the dear ; 20 Bomen bickarte uppone the bent^ With ther browd aras^ cleare. Then the wyld^ thorowe the woodes went On every syde shear f Grea-hondes thorowe the greves glent" 25 For to kyll thear dear. The begane in Chyviat the hyls abone^" Yerly^^ on a monnyn-day ;^^ Ver. II. The the Perse. PC. V. 13. archardes bolde off blood and bone. PC. V. 19. throrowe. PC. * By these '"'■shyars thre" is probably meant three districts in Northumberland, which still go by the name of shires^ and are all in the neighbourhood of Cheviot. These are Island-shire, being the district so named from Holy-Island : JVorehamshire, so called from the town and castle of Noreham (or Norham) : and Pam- boroughshire, the ward or hundred belonging to Bamborough castle and town. [^ hinder. 2 company. ^ high. "* rouse. ' bowmen skirmished in the long grass. ^ broad arrows. ^ wild deer. ^ entirely. ^ the bushes glanced. '" above. ^^ early. 12 Monday.] OF CHEVY CHASE. 25 Be' that it drewe to the oware off none'^ A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay. 30 The blewe a mort uppone the bent, ' The semblyd on sydis shear ; ^ To the quyrry^^ then the Perse went To se the bryttlynge^ off the deare. He sayd, It was the Duglas promys 35 This day to meet me hear ; But I wyste he wold faylle verament 'J A gret oth the Perse swear. At the laste a squyar of Northombelonde Lokyde at his hand full ny, 40 He was war ath*^ the douQfhetie Doo^las comvnire : With him a myghte meany, Both with spear, * byll,' and brande :'-^ Yt was a myghti sight to se. Hardyar men both off hart nar hande 45 Wear not in Christiante. The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good Withouten any fayle ; The wear borne a-long be the watter a Twyde, Yth '" bowndes of Tividale. so Leave off the brytlyng of the dear, he sayde, And to your bowys look ye tayk good heed ; For never sithe^' ye wear on your mothars borne Had ye never so mickle need. Ver. 31. blwe a mot. PC. V. 42. niyglittc. PC. passim. V. 43. brylly. PC. V. 48. withowte feale. PC. V. 52. boys. PC. V. 54. ned. PC. [ ' by. 2 hour of noon. ^ they blew a note over the dead stag on the grass. * on all sides. •'' slaughtered game. '' quartering. ' truly. " aware of. '-^ battle axe and sword. '" in the. " since, j 26 ANCIENT BALLAD The dougheti Dogglas on a stede 55 He rode all his men beforne ; His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede ;^ A bolder barne"'* was never born. Tell me ' what ' men ye ar, he says, Or whos men that ye be : 60 Who gave youe leave to hunte in this Chyviat chays in the spyt of me ? The first mane that ever him an answear mayd, Yt was the good lord Perse : We wyll not tell the * what ' men we ar, he says, 65 Nor whos men that we be ; But we wyll hount hear in this chays In the spyte of thyne, and of the. The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat We have kyld, and cast^ to carry them a- way. 70 Be my troth, sayd the doughte Dogglas agayn, Ther-for the ton^ of us shall de this day. Then sayd the doughte Doglas Unto the lord Perse : To kyll all thes giltless men, 7S A-las ! it wear great pitte. But, Perse, thowe art a lord of lande, I am a yerle^ callyd within my contre ; Let all our men uppone a parti ^ stande ; And do the battell off the and of me. 80 Nowe Cristes cors^ on his crowne,^sayd the lord Perse. Who-soever ther-to says nay. [Ver. 56. Percy and Hearne print, "att his men."J Ver. 59. whos. PC. V. 65. whoys. PC. V. 71. agay. PC. V. 81. sayd the the. PC. [^ glowing coal. ^ man. ^ niean, ^ the one of us shall die. * earl. ^ apart or aside. ' curse. ^ head.] OF CHEVY CHASE. 27 Be my troth, doughtc Doglas, he says, Thow shalt never se that day ; Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France, 85 Nor for no man of a woman born, But and^ fortune be my chance, I dar met him on man for on.^ Then bespayke a squyar off Northombarlonde, Ric. Wytharynton* was his nam ; 90 It shall never be told in Sothe-Ynglonde, he says. To kyng Herry the fourth for sham. I wat^ youe byn great lordes twaw,* I am a poor squyar of lande ; I wyll never se my captayne fyght on a fylde, 9s And stande my-selffe, and looke on, But whyll I may my weppone welde, I wyll not ' fayl ' both harte and hande. That day, that day, that dredfull day : The first Fitf here I fynde. 100 And youe° wyll here any mor athe hountyng a the Yet ys ther mor behynde. [Chyviat, Ver. 88. on i.e. one. * This is probably corrupted in the MS. for Ro:^. Widdruighm, who was at the head of the family in the reign of K. Edw. III. There were several successively of the names of Roi::,cr and Ralph, but none of the name of Richard^ as appears from the genealogies in the Heralds' office. t Fit. [1 l)ut if. 2 one man for one. ^ for wot, know. ■• two. ^ if you.J 28 ANCIENT BALLAD THE SECOND FIT. I^HE Yngglishe men hade ther bowys yebent, ^^ Ther hartes were good yenoughe ; The first of arros that the shote off, Seven skore spear-men the sloughe.^ Yet bydys^ the yerle Doglas uppon the bent, 5 A captayne good yenoughe, And that was sene verament. For he wrought hom both woo and wouche."' The Dogglas pertyd his ost in thre, Lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde, 10 With suar^ speares off myghtte tre The cum^ in on every syde. Thrughe our YnggHshe archery Gave many a wounde full wyde ; Many a doughete the garde to dy,^ 15 Which ganyde them no pryde. The Yngglishe men let thear bowys be, And pulde owt brandes that wer bright ; It was a hevy syght to se Bryght swordes on basnites^ tyght. 20 Thorowe ryche male, and myne-ye-ple^ Many sterne^ the stroke downe streght : Ver. 3. first, z>./zV/2/. V. 5. byddys. PC. V. 17. boys. PC. V. 18. briggt. PC. V. 21. throrowe. PC. V. 22. done. PC. [* slew. 2 abides. ^ mischief, wrong. * sure. 5 they come. ^ many a doughty one they made to die. ' helmets. ^ Mr. Skeat suggests that this is a corruption for manople, a large gauntlet. '^ many fierce ones they struck down.] 6 OF CHEVY CHASE. 29 Many a fre^ke/ that was full free, Ther undar foot dyd lyght. At last the Duglas and the Perse met, 25 Lyk to capta)'ns of myght and mayne ; The swapte""^ togethar tyll the both swat" With swordes, that w^ear of fyn myllan.^ Thes worthe freckys^ for to fyght Ther-to the wear full fayne, Tyll the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente. As ever dyd heal or rayne. Holde the, Perse, sayd the Doglas, And i' feth I shall the brynge Wher thowe shake have a yerls wagis 35 Of J amy our Scottish kynge. Thoue shake have thy ransom fre, * I hight^ the hear this thinge, For the manfully ste man yet art thowe. That ever I conqueryd in filde fightyng. 40 Nay ' then' sayd the lord Perse, I tolde it the beforne, That I wolde never yeldyde be To no man of a woman born. With that ther cam an arrowe hastely 45 Forthe off a mightie wane,* Hit hathc strekene the yerle Duglas In at the brcst bane. Ver. 26. to, i.e. two. Ibid, and of. PC. V. 32. ran. J^C. V. 33. helde. PC. * JVa;ie, i.e. a//e, one, &c. man, an arrow came from a mighty one : from a mighty man. [misreading for ma;ie (?) see v. 63, fit. i . | [' strongman. ^ exchanged blows. ^ did sweat. * Milan steel. ''' men. *^ spurted out. '' promise.) 30 ANCIENT BALLAD Thoroue lyvar and longs bathe The sharp arrowe ys gane, so That never after in all his lyffe days, He spayke mo wordes but ane, That was,* Fyghte ye, my merry men, whyllys ye may. For my lyff days ben gan. The Perse leanyde on his brande, 5S And sawe the Duglas de ; He tooke the dede man be the hande, And sayd, Wo ys me for the ! To have savyde thy lyffe I wold have pertyd with My landes for years thre, 60 For a better man of hart, nare of hande Was not in all the north countre. Off all that se a Skottishe knyght. Was callyd Sir Hewe the Mongon-byrry, He sawe the Duglas to the deth was dyght' ; 65 He spendyd^ a spear a trusti tre : He rod uppon a corsiare^ Throughe a hondrith archery ; He never styntyde, nar never blane,* Tyll he came to the good lord Perse. 70 He set uppone the lord Perse A dynte,^ that was full soare ; With a suar spear of a myghte tre Clean thorow the body he the Perse bore, Ver. 49. throroue. PC. V. 74. ber. PC. * This seems to have been a Gloss added. [' put. 2 grasped. ^ course ■' he never lingered nor stopped. ^ blow.] OF CHEVY CHASE. 31 A the tothar syde, that a man myght se, 75 A large cloth yard and mare : Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Christiante, Then that day slain wear then An archar off Northomberlonde Say slean was the lord Perse, So He bar a bende-bow in his hande, Was made off trusti tre : An arow, that a cloth yarde was lang, To th' hard stele halyde he ; A dynt, that was both sad and soar, 85 He sat on Sir Hewe the Mongon-byrry. The dynt yt was both sad and sar,^ That he of Mongon-byrry sete ; The swane-fethars, that his arrowe bar, With his hart blood the wear wete.* 90 Ther was never a freake wone foot wolde flc, But still in stour'^ dyd stand, Heawyng on yche othar,^ whyll the myght dre,* With many a bal-fiil brande. This battell begane in Chyviat 9S An owar bcfor the none, And when even-song bell was rang The battell was nat half done. The tooke ' on' on ethar hand Be the lyght off the mone ; 100 MQx.ZQ.^^y,i.e. Sawe. V. 84. haylde. /T. V. 87. far. PC. * This incident is taken from the l)attle of Ottcrbourn ; in which Sir Hugh Montgomery, Knt. (son of John l,ord Mont- gomery) was slain with an arrow. Vid. CnnvfonVs Pccnii^c. \ ' sore. - fight. ^ hewing at each other. '' suffer. J ^2 ANCIENT BALLAD 3 Many hade no strenght for to stande, In Chyviat the hyllys aboun.^ Of fifteen hondrith archars of Ynglonde Went away but fifti and thre ; Of twenty hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde, 105 But even five and fifti : But all wear slayne Cheviat within : The hade no strengthe to stand on hie ; The chylde may rue that ys un-borne, It was the mor pitte. no Thear was slayne with the lord Pense Sir John of Agerstone, Sir Roger the hinde'^ Hartly, Sir Wyllyam the bolde Hearone. Sir J org the worthe Lovele^ 115 A knyght of great renowen, Sir Raff the ryche Rugbe With dyntes wear beaten dowene. For Wetharryngton my harte was wo, That ever he slayne shulde be ; 120 For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to, Yet he knyled and fought on hys kne. Ther was slayne with the dougheti Douglas Sir Hewe the Mongon-byrry, Sir Davye Lwdale, that worthe was, 125 His sistars son was he : Sir Charles a Murre, in that place. That never a foot wolde fie ; Ver. 102. abou. FC. V. 108. strenge .... hy. J^C. V. 115. loule. jPC V. 121. in to, i.e. in two. V. 122. kny. FC. [' hills above. ^ gentle. ^ ]yij-. Skeat reads Louwbe.] OF CHEVY CHASE. JO Sir Hewe Maxwell, a lorde he was, With the Duglas dyd he dey. 130 So on the morrowe the mayde them byears Offbyrch, and hasell so ' gray ;' Many wedous^ with wepyng tears,* Cam to fach ther makys"^ a-way. Tivydale may carpe"^ off care, 13s Northombarlond may mayk grat mone, For towe such captayns, as slayne wear thear. On the march perti* shall never be none. Word ys commen to Edden-burrowe, To Jamy the Skottishe kyng, 140 That dougheti Duglas, lyff-tenant of the Merches, He lay slean Chyviot with-in. His handdes dyd he weaP and wryng, He sayd, Alas, and woe ys me ! Such another captayn Skotland within, 145 He sayd, y-feth shuld never be. Worde ys commyn to lovly Londone Till^ the fourth Harry our kyng, Ver. 132. gay. PC V. 136. mon. PC. V. 138. non. PC V. 146. ye feth. PC For the names in this and the foregoing page, see the Remarks at the end of the next ballad. * A common pleonasm, see the next poem, Fit. 2d. V. 155 ; so Harding in his Chronicle, chap. 140, fol. 148, describing the death of Richard I. says, " He shrove him then unto Abbots thre With great sobbyng .... and wepyng teares," So likewise Cavendish in his Life of Cardinal Wolsey, chap. 12, p. 31, 4to. : "When the Duke heard this, he repHed with weeping teares," (S:c. [1 widows. "^ mates. ' comi)lain. ■• on the marches (see ver. 173). * wail. * to, unlo.J D 34 ANCIENT BALLAD That lord Perse, leyff-tennante of the Merchis, He lay slayne Chyviat within. 150 God have mercl on his soil, sayd kyng Harry, Good lord, yf thy will it be ! I have a hondrith captayns in Yynglonde, he sayd, As good as ever was hee : But Perse, and I brook^ my lyffe, 155 Thy deth well quyte''' shall be. As our noble kyng made his a-vowe, Lyke a noble prince of renowen, For the deth of the lord Perse, He dyd the battel of Hombyll-down: 160 Wher syx and thritte Skottish knyghtes On a day wear beaten down : Glendale glytteryde on ther armor bryght. Over castill, towar, and town. This was the hontynge off the Cheviat ; 165 That tear begane this spurn •? Old men that knowen the grownde well yenoughe, Call it the Battell of Otterburn. At Otterburn began this spurne Uppon a monnyn day :* 170 Ther was the dougghte Doglas slean. The Perse never went away. Ther was never a tym on the march partes Sen the Doglas and the Perse met. But yt was marvele, and the redde blude ronne not, As the reane doys in the stret. 176 Ver. 149. cheyff tennante. PC. [^ if I enjoy. 2 requited, that tearing or pulling began this kick. ■* Monday.] .3 OF CHEVY CHASE. 35 Jhesue Christ our balys bete/ And to the blys us brynge ! Thus was the hountynge of the Chevyat : God send us all orood endincj! 180 o o *#* The style of this and the following ballad is uncommonly- rugged and uncouth, owing to their being writ in the very coarsest and broadest northern dialect. The battle of Hombyll-down, or Humbledon, was fought Sept. 14, 1402 (anno 3 Hen. IV.), wherein the English, under the command of the Earl of Northumberland and his son Hotspur, gained a complete victory over the Scots. The village of Hum- bledon is one mile northwest from Wooler, in Northumberland. The battle was fought in the field below the village, near the present Turnpike Road, in a spot called ever since Rcd-Riggs. Humbledon is in Glendale Ward, a district so named in this county, and mentioned above in ver. 163. II. THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. _ HE only battle wherein an Earl of Douglas was slain ,^;y fighting with a Percy was that of Otterbourn, which is P'"^ '^^ ^^^^ subject of this ballad. It is here related with the v^kS^^^l allowable partiality of an English poet, and much in the same manner as it is recorded in the English Chronicles. The Scottish \vriters have, with a partiality at least as excusable, related it no less in their own favout. Luckily we have a very cir- cumstantial narrative of the whole affair from Froissart, a French historian, who appears to be unbiassed. Froissart's relation is prolix ; I shall therefore give it, with a few corrections, as abridged by Carte, who has, however, had recourse to other authorities, and differs from Froissart in some things, which I shall note in the margin. In the twelfth year of Richard II., 1388, "The Scots taking advantage of the confusions of this nation, and falling with a party into the West-marches, ravaged the country about Carlisle, and [' better our bales, or remedy our evils.] 36 THE BATTLE carried off 300 prisoners. It was with a much greater force, headed by some of the principal nobility, that, in the beginning of August,* they invaded Northumberland ; and, having wasted part of the county of Durham,! advanced to the gates of Newcastle ; where, in a skirmish, they took a * penon ' or colours J belonging to Henry lord Percy, sumamed Hotspur, son to the Earl of Northumberland. In their retreat home, they attacked a castle near Otterboum : and, in the evening of Aug. 9 (as the English writers say, or rather, according to Froissart, Aug. 15), after an un- successful assault were surprised in their camp, which was very strong, by Henry, who at the first onset put them into a good deal of confusion. But James Earl of Douglas rallying his men, there ensued one of the best-fought actions that happened in that age ; both armies showing the utmost bravery : § the earl Douglas himself being slain on the spot ; || the Earl of Murrey mortally wounded ; and Hotspur, ^ with his brother Ralph Percy, taken prisoners. These disasters on both sides have given occasion to the event of the engagement's being disputed. Froissart (who derives his relation from a Scotch knight, two gentlemen of the same country, and as many of Foix)** affirming that the Scots * Froissart speaks of both parties (consisting in all of more than 40,000 men) as entering England at the same time : but the greater part by way of Carlisle. t And, according to the ballad, that part of Northumberland called Bamboroughshire ; a large tract of land so named from the town and castle of Bamborough ; formerly the residence of the Northumbrian kings. I This circumstance is omitted in the ballad. Hotspur and Douglas were two young warriors much of the same age. § Froissart says the English exceeded the Scots in number three to one, but that these had the advantage of the ground, and were also fresh from sleep, while the English were greatly fatigued with their previous march. II By Henry L. Percy, according to this ballad, and our old English historians, as Stow, Speed, &c., but borne down by numbers, if we may believe Froissart. \ Hotspur (after^a very sharp conflict) was taken prisoner by John, Lord Montgomery, whose eldest son. Sir Hugh, was slain in the same action with an arrow, according to Crawford's Peerage (and seems also to be alluded to in the foregoing ballad, p. 31), but taken prisoner and exchanged for Hotspur, according to this ballad. ** Froissart (according to the EngHsh transladon) says he had his account from two squires of England, and from a knight and squire of Scotland, soon after the battle. OF OTTERBOURNE. 37 remained masters of the field ; and the Enghsh Avriters insinuating the contrary. These last maintain that the Enghsh had the better of the day : but night coming on, some of the northern lords, coming with the Bishop of Durham to their assistance, killed many of them by mistake, supposing them to be Scots ; and the Earl of Dunbar, at the same time falling on another side upon Hotspur, took him and his brother prisoners, and carried them off while both parties were fighting. It is at least certain, that immediately after this battle the Scots engaged in it made the best of their way home : and the same party was taken by the other corps about Carlisle." Such is the account collected by Carte, in which he seems not to be free from partiality : for prejudice must own that Froissart's circumstantial account carries a great appearance of truth, and he gives the victory to the Scots. He, however, does justice to the courage of both parties ; and represents their mutual generosity in such a light, that the present age might edify by the example. "The Englyshmen on the one partye, and Scottes on the other party, are good men of warre, for whan they mete, there is a hard fighte without sparynge. There is no hoo* betwene them as long as speares, swordes, axes, or dagers Avyll endure ; but lay on eche upon other : and whan they be well beaten, and that the one party hath obtayned the victory, they than glorifye so in their dedes of armes, and are so joyfuU, that suche as be taken, they shall be ransomed or they go out of the felde ;t so that shortely cche of them is so contcntc with other, that at their departynge curtoysly they 7i\Titten. See Douglas's Peerage of Scotland, 1764, fol. Ver. 103. Hiintleye?^ This shews this ballad was not composed before 1449; for in that year Alexander Lord of Gordon and Huntley, was created Earl oi Huntley, by K. James II. Ver. 105. Boii'ghan?^ The Earl of Bitchan at that time was Alexander Stacart, fourth son of K. Robert II. Ver. lo"]. Jhonstonc — Ma-xwell.'] These two families oi John- stone Lord of Johnston, and Maxwell Lord of Maxwell, were always very powerful on the borders. Of the former family was Johnston Alarquis of Annandale : of the latter was Maxwell Earl of Nithsdale. I cannot find that any chief of this family was named Sir Hugh ; but Sir Herbert Maxwell was about this time much distinguished. (See Doug.) This might have been ori- ginally written Sir H. Alaxwell, and by transcribers converted into Sir Hugh. So above, in No. I. v. 90. Ricluird is contracted into Ric. Ver. 109. SwtntoneS\ i.e. The Laird of Swintone; a small vil- lage Avithin the Scottish border, 3 miles from Norham. This family still subsists, and is very ancient. Ver. III. Scotte.'] The illustrious family oi Scot, ancestors of the Duke of Buccleugh, always made a great figure on the borders. Sir Walter Scot was at thg^head of this family when the battle was fought ; but his great-grandson, Sir David Scot, was the hero of that house when the ballad was written. Ibid. Steiuarde.'\ The person here designed was probably Sir Walter Stc7vart, Lord of Dalswinton and Oairlies, who was eminent at that time. (See Doug.) From him is descended the Ijresent Earl of Galloway. Ver. 112. Agurstonne.] The seat of this family was sometimes subject to the kings of Scotland. Thus Richardus Haggerstoiin, miles, is one of the Scottish knights who signed a treaty with the English in 1249, temp. Hen. III. (Nicholson, p. 2, note). — It was the fate of many parts of Northumberland often to change their masters, according as the Scottish or English arms prevailed. 54 THE JEW'S DAUGHTER. Ver. 129. Miirreyr\ The person here meant was probably Sir Charles Murray of Cockpoole, who flourished at that time, and was ancestor of the Murrays sometime Earls of Annandale. See Doug. Peerage. Ver. 139. Fitz-hughe.'] Dugdale (in his Baron, v. i. p. 403) in- forms us \hzlJohn, son of Henry Lord Fitz/mgh, was killed at the battle of Otterbourne. This was a Northumberland family. Vid. Dugd. p. 403, col. I, and Nicholson, pp. 33, 60. Ver. 141. Harbotle.~\ Harbottle is a village upon the river Coquet, about 10 m. west of Rothbury. The family of Harbottle was once considerable in Northumberland. (See Fuller, pp. 312, 313.) A daughter of Gidschard Harbottle, Esq., married Sir Thomas Percy, Knt., son of Henry the fifth, — and father of Thomas seventh, Earls of Northumberland. III. THE JEW'S DAUGHTER, A Scottish Ballad, fS founded upon the supposed practice of the Jews in crucifying or otherwise murdering Christian children, out of hatred to the religion of their parents : a prac- _ tice which has been always alledged in excuse for the cruelties exercised upon that wretched people, but which probably never happened in a single instance. For, if we con- sider, on the one hand, the ignorance and superstition of the times when such stories took their rise, the virulent prejudices of the monks who record them, and the eagerness with which they would be catched up by the barbarous populace as a pretence for plunder ; on the other hand, the great danger incurred by the perpetrators, and the inadequate motives they could have to excite them to a crime of so much horror ; we may reasonably conclude the whole charge to be groundless and malicious. The following ballad is probably built upon some Italian legend, and bears a great resemblance to the Prioresse's Tale in Chaucer : the poet seems also to have had an eye to the known story of Hugh of Lincoln, a child said to have been there murdered by the Jews in the reign of Henry HI. The conclusion of this ballad appears to be wanting : what it probably contained may be seen THE JEW'S DAUGHTER. 55 in Chaucer. As for AFirryland Toiin, it is probably a corruption of Milan (called by the Dutch Mcylandt) Town : the Pa is evi- dently the river Po; although the Adige, not the Po, runs through IMilan. Printed from a MS. copy sent from Scotland. [This ballad, which is also known under the title of Sir Hugh of Lincoln, was at one time so widely popular that it is preserved in six different versions, besides fragments, and has originated a litera- ture of its own. INIons. Francisc^ue Michel discovered a Norman- French version in the Royal Library at Paris, which is supposed to date back to the period when the murder of Sir Hugh was to have been committed. This was first published in the year 1834 under the title, " Hugues de Lincoln : Recueil de Ballades Anglo-Nomiande et Ecossoises relatives au meurtre de cet enfant commis par les Juifs en mcclv." The Rev. Dr. A. Hume commu- nicated a very full paper on the subject of the tradition to the Literary and Philosophical Society of Liverpool, on November 13, 1848, which is published in the Proceedings (No. 5), and Mr. J. O. HaUiwell printed, in 1S49, a small volume containing " Ballads and Poems respecting Hugh of Lincoln." In the Athc7iieiim for Dec. 15, 1849, there is a condemnatory review of Dr. Hume's work, to which the reviewer has added some valuable infomiation of his own. Percy's remark that Alirryland town is a corruption of Milan town, and Pa of tlie river Po, seems far-fetched, as there is no reason for supposing that the ballad was in any way connected with Italy. Jamieson's version reads Merry Lincoln, and in Motherwell's the scene is changed to Maitkmd town. In some parts of England the ballad has degenerated into a sort of nursery rhyme, the Northamptonshire version reading " Merry Scotland," and the Shropshire one, " Merry-cock land." Mr. J. H. Dixon suggests jnerc-land town, from the mere or fen lakes, and reads wa' for Pa'. {Notes and Queries, 3rd Series, vol. ix. p. 30, note.) Miss Agnes Strickland communicated the following lines ob- tained from oral tradition at Godalming, in Surrey, to Mr. HaUiwell, who printed them in his tract : — " He toss'd the ball so high, so high, He toss'd the ball so low ; He toss'd the ball in the Jew's garilen. And the Jews were all below. " Oh ! then out came the Jew's daughter, She was dressed all in green : * Come hither, come hither, my sweet pretty fellow, And fetch your ball again.'" 56 THE JEWS DAUGHTER. The tradition upon which this ballad is founded— that the Jews use human blood in their preparation for the Passover, and are in the habit of kidnapping and butchering Christian children for the purpose — is very widely spread and of great antiquity. Eisen- menger* refers to a case which occurred at Inmestar, in Syria, so early as the year 419, but the earliest case recorded as having oc- curred in Europe is that of William of Norwich, in 1137. The following is a translation from a passage in the Peterborough Chronicle (which ends with the death of Stephen and the accession of Henry the Second), relating to this remarkable superstition : — " Now we mil say something of what happened in King Stephen's time. In his time the Jews of Norwich bought a Christian child before Easter, and tortured him with all the same torturing that our Lord was tortured. And on Good Friday (lang fridai) they hanged him on a cross, for our Lord's love ; and afterwards buried him. They thought (wenden) that it should be concealed, but our Lord showed that he was a holy martyr (mr), and the monks took him and buried him solemnly in the monastery (minst). And he maketh through our Lord wonderful and manifold miracles. And he was called Saint William." Mr. Earle, in his note to this passage,! says that " S. William seems to have retained his celebrity down to the time of the Reformation, at least in Norfolk. In Loddon church, which is advanced perpendicular of about 1500, there is a painting of his crucifixion on a panel of the rood- screen, still in fair preservation." St. William's fame, however, was eclipsed in other parts of Eng- land by that of Sir Hugh of Lincoln, whose death was celebrated by historians and poets. Henry III. being often in want of money, was glad to take any opportunity of extorting it from the un- fortunate Jews, and in 1255 his exchequer particularly required replenishing on account of the expected arrival in England of his son Edward's newly married wife, Eleanor of Castile. In this year a young boy was murdered, and, opportunely for the king, the crime was charged to the Jews. It was asserted that the child had been stolen, fattened on bread and milk for ten days, and crucified with all the cruelties and insults of Christ's passion, in the presence of all the Jews in England, who had been summoned to Lincoln for the purpose. The supposed criminals were brought to justice, and the king's commission for the trial, and the warrant to sell the goods of the several Jews who were found guilty, are still preserved. The Jew into whose house the child had gone to play, tempted by the promise of his life, made a full confession, and threw the guilt upon his brethren. Ninety-one Jews of Lin- [* Entdecktcs Judetithum, vol. ii. p. 220. I Ttvo of the Saxon Chronicles Parallel, 1865, p. 371-] THE JEW'S DAUGHTER. 57 coin were sent to London as accomplices, and thrown into dungeons. Eighteen of the richest were hanged on a gallows, and twenty more imprisoned in the Tower of London. The king was enriched by the spoils, and the clergy of Lincoln did not lose their opportunity, for the minster was made famous by the possession of the martyr's tomb. Dean Milman, in relating these circumstances, says : " Great part of the story refutes itself, but I have already admitted the possibility that among the ignorant and fanatic Jews there might be some who, exasperated by the constant repetition of the charge, might brood over it so long, as at length to be tempted to its perpetration."* Any such explanation as this, how- ever, does not seem necessary, for the wide-spread existence of the superstition goes far to prove the entire falsehood at least of the later cases, and the story of Sir Hugh was but a revival of that of St. William. It is worth mentioning, in passing, that this calumny was in fact a recoil upon the Jews themselves of a weapon they had used against the Christians. As early as the third century they affirmed that Christians in celebrating their mysteries used to kill a child and eat its flesh. Pagans probably learnt the calumny from the Jews, and also charged the Christians with eating children. The whole proceedings in the case of Sir Hugh are chronicled by Matthew Paris, Avho was in high favour with Henry IH., and from his pages the account is transferred to the Chronicles of Grafton, Fabyan, and Holinshed. Chaucer most probably con- sulted the same source when he included the story in his Canter- bury Talcs, although he shifts the scene to Asia, and makes his Prioress say, when ending her tale with a reference to Sir Hugh : — " O younge Hughe of Lyncoln ; slayn also With cursed Jewes (as it is notable, For it nys but a litcl ivhile ago)." Tyrvvhitt, in his edition of Chaucer, notes that he found in the first four months of the Acta Sanctorum of Bollandus the names of five children canonized as having been murdered by the Jews, and he supposes that the remaining eight months would furnish at least as many more. Tynvhitt accepts Percy's interpretation of Mirry- land as a corruption of the name of Milan, and under this erroneous impression he suggests that the real occasion of the ballad may have been the murder of the boy Simon, at Trent, in 1475. t [* History of the Jews, ed. 1863, vol. iii. [). 249. t Mr. Hales points out to me the following reference to the superstition in Marlowe s y^rc' of Malta, acl iii. : — 58 THE JEW'S DAUGHTER. The superstition upon which all these stories are founded is said still to prevail among the ignorant members of the Greek Church, and it was revived at Damascus in 1840 in consequence of the disappearance of a priest named Thomaso. Two or three Jews were put to death before a proper judicial examination could be made, and the popular fury was so excited that severe persecution extended through a large part of the Turkish empire. Sir Moses Montefiore visited the various locaUties with the object of obtain- ing redress for his people, and he was successful. On November 6, 1840, a firman for the protection of the Jews was given at Con- stantinople, which contained the following passage : — " An ancient prejudice prevailed against the Jews. The ignorant believed that the Jews were accustomed to sacrifice a human being, to make use of his blood at the Passover. In consequence of this opinion the Jews of Damascus and Rhodes, who are subjects of our empire, have been persecuted by other nations. . . . But a short time has elapsed since some Jews dwelling in the isle of Rhodes were brought from thence to Constantinople, where they had been tried and judged according to the new regulations, and their innocence of the accusations made against them fully proved." The calumny, however, was again raised in October, 1847, and the Jews were in imminent peril when the missing boy, who had been staying at Baalbec, reappeared in good health. Within the last few years the Greek Patriarch at Constantinople has issued a pastoral letter, in which he points out the wickedness of the Christian persecution of the Jews. He says : *' Superstition is a detestable thing. Almost all the Christian nations of the East have taken up the extravagant idea that the Israehtes enjoy shed- ding Christian blood, either to obtain thereby a blessing from heaven, or to gratify their national rancour against Christ. Hence conflicts and disturbances break out, by which the social harmony between the dwellers in the same land, yea, the same fatherland, is disturbed. Thus a report was lately spread of the abduction of little Christian children in order to give a pretext for suspicion. We on our side abhor such lying fancies ; we regard them as the superstitions of men of weak faith and narrow minds ; and we disavow them officially." " Friar Jaco7no. Why, what has he done ? Friar Barnardinc. A thing that makes me tremble to unfold. Jac. What, has he crucified a child ? Bar. No, but a worse thing ; 'twas told me in shrift ; Thou know'st 'tis death, an if it be reveal'd." Dyce in his note quotes from Reed a reference to Tovey's Anglia Judaica, where instances of such crucifixion are given.] THE JEW'S DAUGHTER. 59 The superstition, however, still lives on, and according to the Levant Herald {x^lAr), the Mahometans are beginning to fell into the delusion that the sacrificial knife is applied by the Jews to young Turks as well as to young Christians.] HE rain rins doun through Mirry-land toune, Sae dois it doune the Pa : Sae dois the lads of Mirry-land toune, Ouhan they play at the ba'.' Than out and cam the Jewis dochter, 5 Said, Will ye cum in and dine ? " I winnae cum in, I cannae cum in, Without my play-feres'^ nine." Scho' powd^ an apple reid and white To intice the yong thing in : 10 Scho powd an apple white and reid, And that the sweit bairne did win. And scho has taine out a little pen-knife, And low down by her gair,^ Scho has twin'd'^ the yong thing and his life ; 15 A word he nevir spak main And out and cam the thick thick bluid, And out and cam the thin ; And out and cam the bonny herts bluid : Thair was nae life left in. 20 Scho laid him on a dressing borde, And drest him like a swine, And laughing said, Gae nou and pley With your sweit play-feres nine. [1 ball. 2 play-fellows. ^ she. •♦ pulled. ^ dress. * parted in two.] 6o THE JEW'S DAUGHTER. Scho rowd^ him in a cake of lead, 25 Bade him He stil and sleip. Scho cast him in a deip draw-well, Was fifty fadom deip. Quhan bells wer rung, and mass was sung, And every lady went hame : 30 Than ilka lady had her yong sonne, Bot lady Helen had nane. Scho rowd hir mantil hir about. And sair sair gan she weip : And she ran into the Jewis castel, 3S Quhan they wer all asleip. My bonny sir Hew, my pretty sir Hew, I pray thee to me speik. " O lady, rinn to the deip draw-well, Gin^ ye your sonne wad seik." 40 Lady Helen ran to the deip draw-well, And knelt upon her kne : My bonny sir Hew, an^ ye be here, I pray thee speik to me. *' The lead is wondrous heavy, mither, 45 The well is wondrous deip, A keen pen-knife sticks in my hert, A word I dounae^ speik. Gae hame, gae hame, my mither deir. Fetch me my windling sheet, 50 And at the back o' Mirry-land toun. Its thair we twa fall meet." * * * * \} she rolled. ^ if. ^ jf 4 cannot] S/R CAULINE. 61 IV. SIR CAULINE. 'HIS old romantic tale was preserved in the Editor's ^^^j. folio MS. but in so very defective and mutilated a ^^^ condition (not from any chasm in the MS. but from great omission in the transcript, probably copied from the faulty recitation of some illiterate minstrell), and the whole appeared so far short of the perfection it seemed to de- serve, that the Editor was tempted to add several stanzas in the first part, and still more in the second, to connect and compleat the story in the manner wliich appeared to him most interesting and affecting. There is something peculiar in the metre of this old ballad : it is not unusual to meet with redundant stanzas of six lines ; but the occasional insertion of a double third or fourth line, as ver. 31, &c. is an irregularity I do not remember to have seen elsewhere. It may be proper to inform the reader before he comes to Pt. ii. v. no, III, that the Round Table was not peculiar to the reign of K. Arthur, but was common in all the ages of chivalry. The pro- claiming a great turnament (probably with some peculiar solem- nities) was called " holding a Round Table." Dugdale tells us, that the great baron Roger de Mortimer " having procured the honour of knighthood to be conferred 'on his three sons' by K. Edw. I. he, at his own costs, caused a toumeament to be held at Kenilworth ; where he sumptuously entertained an hundred knights, and as many ladies, for three days ; the like whereof was never before in England ; and there began the Round Table, (so called by reason that the place wherein they practised those feats was environed with a strong wall made in a round form :) And upon the fourth day, the golden lion, in sign of triumph, being yielded to him ; he carried it (with all the company) to Warwick." — It may further be added, that Matthew Paris frequently calls justs and turnaments Hastiludia Men sec Rotundcc. As to what will be observed in this ballad of the art of healing being practised by a young princess ; it is no more than what is usual in all the old romances, and was conformable to real man- ners : it being a practice derived from the earliest times among all the Gothic and Celtic nations, for women, even of the highest rank, to exercise the art of surgery. In the Northern C'hronirlos we always find the young damsels stanching the wounds of their 62 SIR CAULINE. lovers, and the wives those of their husbands.* And even so late as the time of Q. Elizabeth, it is mentioned among the accom- plishments of the ladies of her court, that the " eldest of them are skilful in surgery." See Harrison's Description of England, pre- fixed to Hollinshed's Chronicle, ^^c. [This story of Sir Caidine furnishes one of the most flagrant instances of Percy's manipulation of his authorities. In the fol- lowing poem all the verses which are due to Percy's invention are placed between brackets, but the whole has been so much altered by him that it has been found necessary to reprint the original from the folio MS. at the end in order that readers may compare the two. Percy put into his version several new incidents and altered the ending, by which means he was able to dilute the 201 lines of the MS. copy into 392 of his own. There was no necessity for this perversion of the original, because the story is there complete, and moreover Percy did not sufficiently indicate the great changes he had made, for although nearly every verse is altered he only noted one trivial difference of reading, viz. auke- ward for backward (v. 109). Motherwell reprinted this ballad in his Minstrelsy, and in his prefatory note he made the following shrewd guess, which we now know to be a correct one: — "We suspect too that the ancient ballad had a less melancholy catastrophe, and that the brave Syr Cauline, after his combat with the ' hend Soldan' derived as much benefit from the leechcraft of fair Cristabelle as he did after winning the Eldridge sword." Professor Child has expressed the same view in his note to the ballad. Buchan printed a ballad entitled King Malcolm and Sir Colvln, which is more Hke the original than Percy's version, but Mr. Hales is of opinion that this was one of that collector's fabrications.] THE FIRST PART. Ireland, ferr over the sea, There dwelleth a bonnye kinge ; And with him a yong and comlye knighte, Men call him syr Cauline. * See Northern Antiquities, &'c. vol. i. p. 318; vol. ii. p. 100. Memoires de la Chevalcrie, torn. i. p. 44. J lO S//^ CAULINE. 6 The kinge had a ladye to his daughter, In fashyon she hath no peere ; And princely wightes that ladye wooed To be theyr wedded feere. *] Syr CauHne loveth her best of all, But nothing durst he saye ; Ne descreeve'^ his counsayl to no man, But deerlye he lovde this may.'' Till on a daye it so beffell, Great dill^ to him was dight ;^ The maydens love removde his mynd, 15 To care-bed went the kniijhte. One while he spred his armes him fro, One while he spred them nye : And aye ! but I winne that ladyes love. For dole^ now I mun^ dye. 20 And whan our parish-masse was done, Our kinge was bowne^ to dyne : He sayes. Where is syr Cauline, That is wont to serve the wyne ? Then aunswcrde him a courteous knighte, 25 And fast his handes gan wringe : Sir Cauline is sicke, and like to dye Without a good leechinge." Fetche me downe my daughter deere, She is a leeche fulle fine : 30 Goe take him doughe,^° and the baken bread, \} mate. ^ describe. ^ maiden. "• grief. * wrought. ''' sorrow. '^ must. ^ made ready. ^ medical care. ^^^ This is an odd misreading of Percy's. The MS. has " I and take you doe and the baken bread," where doe is the auxihary verb and the a«^ redundant.] 64 SIR CAULINE. I. And serve him with the wyne soe red ; Lothe I were him to tine/ Fair Christabelle to his chaumber goes, Her may dens followyng nye : ss O well, she sayth, how doth my lord ? sicke, thou fayr ladye. Nowe ryse up wightlye,^ man, for shame, Never lye soe cowardlee ; For it is told in my fathers halle, 40 You dye for love of mee. Fayre ladye, it is for your love That all this dill I drye •? For if you wold comfort me with a kisse. Then were I brought from bale to blisse, 45 No lenger wold I lye. [Sir knighte, my father is a kinge, 1 am his onlye heire ; Alas ! and well you knowe, syr knighte, I never can be youre fere. 5° O ladye, thou art a kinges daughter, And I am not thy peere. But let me doe some deedes of armes To be your bacheleere.* Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe, 55 My bacheleere to bee, ( But ever and aye my heart wold rue, Giff^ harm shold happe to thee,)] Upon Eldridge^ hill there groweth a thorne. Upon the mores brodinge ;^ 60 [1 lose. ^ swiftly. ^ pain I suffer. "^ knight. 5 if. ^ spectral, lonesome. ^ wide moors.] S/R CAULINE. 65 And dare ye, syr knighte, wake there all nighte Until the fayre morninge ? For the Eldridge knighte, so mickle' of mighte, Will examine you beforne :"^ And never man bare life awaye, 65 But he did him scath' and scorne. [That knighte he is a foul paynim/ And large of limb and bone ; And but if heaven may be thy speede, Thy life it is but gone. 70 Nowe on the Eldridge hilles He walke,* For thy sake, fair ladie ;] And He either bring you a ready token, Or He never more you see. The lady is gone to her own chaumbere, 75 Her maydens following bright : [Syr Cauline lope^ from care-bed soone, And to the Eldridge hills is gone,] F'or to wake there all nigrht. Unto midnicrht, that the moone did rise, 80 He walked up and downe ; Then a lightsome bugle heard he blowe Over the bents ^' soe browne ; Quoth hee, If cryance come tilF my heart, I am ffar from any good towne. 85 And soone he spyde on the mores so broad, A furyous wight and fell f A ladye bright his brydle led. Clad in a fayre kyrtell : * Pcrliaps loakr, as abo\'C in vcr. 61. [' great. '^ before. ^ harm. * pagan. '' leaped. " ficld.s. ' if fear rome to. ** fierce.] 66 SIR CAULINE. And soe fast he called on syr Cauline, 90 man, I rede' thee flye, For ' but ' if cryance comes till thy heart, 1 weene but thou mun dye. He sayth, ' No ' cryance comes till my heart, Nor, in faith, I wyll not flee ; 95 For, cause thou minged"^ not Christ before, The less me dreadeth thee. [The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his steed ; Syr Cauline bold abode : Then either shooke his trustye speare,] 100 And the timber these two children* bare Soe soone in sunder slode.^ Then tooke they out theyr two good swordes. And layden^ on full faste, [Till helme and hawberke, mail and sheelde, 105 They all were well-nye brast.^] The Eldridge knight was mickle of might. And stiffe in stower^ did stande, But syr Cauline with a ' backward ' stroke, He smote off his right hand ; no That soone he with paine and lacke of bloud Fell downe on that lay-land.^ [Then up syr Cauline lift his brande All over his head so hye : And here I sweare by the holy roode, 115 Nowe, caytiffe, thou shalt dye. Ver. 109, aukeward. MS. * /. e. Knights. See the Preface to Child Waters, vol. iii. [1 advise. ^ mentioned. ^ gpijj.^ 4 j^jj^ * burst. ^ battle. "^ green sward.] S/J^ CAULINE. 67 Then up and came that ladye brighte, Fast wrinoinor of her hande : For the maydens love, that most you love, Withold that dcadlye brande : 120 For the maydens love, that most you love. Now smyte no more I praye ; And aye whatever thou wilt, my lord, He shall thy hests' obaye. Now sweare to mee, thou Eldridge kni'ohte, 125 And here on this lay-land. That thou wilt believe on Christ his layc,^ And therto plight thy hand : And that thou never on Eldrido^e come To sporte, gamon,' or playe : n© And that thou here give up thy armes Until thy dying daye. The Eldridge knighte gave up his armes With many a sorrowfulle sighe ; And sware to obey syr Caulines hest, 135 Till the tyme that he shold dye.] And he then up and the Eldridge knighte Sett him in his saddle anone. And the Eldridge knighte and his ladye To theyr castle are they gone. 140 [Then he tooke up the bloudy hand, That was so larg-e of bone. 'fe And on it he founde five rincfes of cfold f> Of knic^htes that had be slone.^ -*> Then he tooke up the Eldridge sworde, us As hard as any Hint : [» commands. "^ law. •' ri;,'hl. ' slain.] 68 SIR CAULINE. And he tooke off those ringes five, As bright as fyre and brent- Home then pricked^ syr CauHne As Hght as leafe on tree : 150 I-wys he neither stint ne blanne,*'' Till he his ladye see. Then downe he knelt upon his knee Before that lady gay : O ladye, I have bin on the Eldridge hills : 155 These tokens I bring away. Now welcome, welcome, syr Cauline, Thrice welcome unto mee, For now I perceive thou art a true knighte, Of valour bolde and free. 160 O ladye, I am thy own true knighte. Thy hests for to obaye : And mought I hope to winne thy love ! Ne more his tonge colde say. The ladye blushed scarlette redde, 165 And fette'^ a gentill sighe : Alas ! syr knight, how may this bee. For my degree's soe highe ? But sith thou hast hight,* thou comely youth. To be my batchilere, 170 He promise if thee I may not wedde I will have none other fere.^ Then shee held forthe her lilly-white hand Towards that knighte so free ; He gave to it one gentill kisse, 175 [' spurred. ^ neither stopped nor lingered. ^ fetched. ■* since thou hast engaged. ''' mate.] SIR CAULINE. 69 His heart was brought from bale to blisse, The teares sterte^ from his ee. But keep my counsayl, syr CauRne, Ne let no man it knowe ; For and ever my father sholde it ken, 180 I wot he wolde us sloe."^ From that daye forthe that ladye fayre Lovde syr Cauhne the knighte : From that daye forthe he only joyde Whan shee was in his sieht. ?:>' 185 Yea and oftentimes they mette Within a fayre arboure, Where they in love and sweet daliaunce Past manye a pleasaunt houre.] *^* In this conclusion of the First Part, and at the beginning of the Second, the reader will observe a resemblance to the story of Sigismmtda and Guiscard, as told by Boccace and Dryden. See the latter's description of the lovers meeting in the cave ; and those beautiful lines, which contain a reflection so like this of our poet, " everye 7ohitc,'^ &c., viz. : " But as extremes are short of ill and good. And tides at highest mark regorge their flood ; So Fate, that could no more improve their joy, Took a malicious pleasure to destroy Tancred, who fondly loved," &c. [1 started. ^ I know he would sla^ us.] 70 SIR CAULINE. PART THE SECOND. |VERYE white will have its blacke, And everye sweete its sowre : I^HI This founde the ladye Christabelk In an untimely howre. For so it befelle, as syr Cauline 5 Was with that ladye faire, The kinge her father walked forthe To take the evenyng aire : And into the arboure as he went To rest his wearye feet, lo He found his daughter and syr Cauhne There sette in daliaunce sweet. The kinge hee sterted forthe, i-wys,^ And an angrye man was hee : Nowe, traytoure, thou shalt hange or drawe, is And re we shall thy ladle. Then forthe syr Cauline he was ledde, And throwne in dungeon deepe : And the ladye into a towre so hye. There left to wayle and weepe. 20 The queene she was syr Caulines friend, And to the kinge sayd shee : I praye you save syr Caulines life. And let him banisht bee. Now, dame, that traitor shall be sent 25 Across the salt sea fome : But here I will make thee a band,^ If ever he come within this land, A foule deathe is his doome. \} verily. 2 bond or covenant.] SIR CAULINE. 71 All woe-begone was that gentil knight 30 To parte from his ladye ; And many a time he sighed sore, And cast a wistfulle eye : Faire Christabelle, from thee to parte, Farre lever^ had I dye. 3S Faire Christabelle, that ladye bright, Was had forthe of the towre ; But ever shee droopeth in her minde, As nipt by an ungentle winde Doth some faire lillye flowre. 40 And ever shee doth lament and weepe To tint^ her lover soe : Syr Cauline, thou little think'st on mee, But I will still be true. « Manye a kynge, and manye a duke, 45 And lorde of high degree. Did sue to that fayre ladye of love ; But never shee wolde them nee."^ When manye a daye was past and gone, Ne comforte she colde finde, so The kynge proclaimed a tourneament, To cheere his dauijhters mind : And there came lords, and there came knights, Fro manye a farre countrye. To break a spere for theyr ladycs love 55 Before that faire ladye. And many a ladye there was sette In purple and in palle :^ But faire Christabelle soe woe-begone Was the fay rest of them all. 60 \} ratlier. '^ lose. ^ nigh. ^ fine cloth. | 72 S/J^ CAULINE. Then manye a knighte was mickle of might Before his ladye gaye ; But a stranger wight, whom no man knewe, He wan the prize eche daye. His acton^ it was all of blacke, 65 His hewberke,*"^ and his sheelde, Ne noe man wist whence he did come, Ne noe man knewe where he did gone, When they came from the feelde. And now three days were prestlye^ past 70 In feates of chivalrye, When lo upon the fourth morninge A sorrowfulle sight they see. A hugye giaunt stiffe and starke, All foule of limbe and lere ;* 75 Two goggling eyen like fire farden,^ A mouthe from eare to eare. Before him came a dwarffe full lowe, That waited on his knee, And at his backe five heads he bare, 80 All wan and pale of blee.^ Sir, quoth the dwarffe, and louted^ lowe, Behold that hend« Soldain ! Behold these heads I beare with me ! They are kings which he hath slain. 85 The Eldridge knight is his own cousine. Whom a knight of thine hath shent :^ And hee is come to avenge his wrong. And to thee, all thy knightes among. Defiance here hath sent. 90 [^ leather jacket. ^ (-gat of mail. ^ quickly. "* countenance. ^ flashed. ^ complexion. '' bowed. ^ courteous. ^ injured.] S/R CAULINE. 73 But yette he will appease his wrath Thy daughters love to winne : And but thou yeelde him that fayre mayd, Thy halls and towers must brenne.^ Thy head, syr king, must goe with mee ; 95 Or else thy daughter deere ; Or else within these lists soe broad Thou must finde him a peere.]"^ The king he turned him round aboute, And in his heart was woe : 100 Is there never a knighte of my round table, This matter will underofoe ? [Is there never a knighte amongst yee all Will fight for my daughter and mee ? Whoever will fight yon grimme soldan, 105 Right fair his meede shall bee. For hee shall have my broad lay-lands. And of my crowne be heyre ; And he shall winne fayre Christabelle To be his wedded fere. no But every knighte of his round table Did stand both still and pale ; For whenever they lookt on the grim soldan, It made their hearts to quail. All woe-begone was that fayre ladye, us When she sawe no helpe was nye : She cast her thought on her owne true-love. And the teares gusht from her eye. Up then sterte the stranger knighte, Sayd, Ladye, be not affrayd : 120 He fight for thee with this grimme soldan, Thoughe he be unmacklye ' made. \} bum. 2 equal. ^ mis-shapen.] 74 SIR CAULINE. And if thou wilt lend me the Eldridge sworde, That lyeth within thy bowre, I truste in Christe for to slay this fiende 125 Thoughe he be stiff in stowre. Goe fetch him downe the Eldridge sworde, The kinge he cryde, with speede : Nowe heaven assist thee, courteous knighte ; My daughter is thy meede/ 130 The gyaunt he stepped into the lists, And sayd, Awaye, awaye : I sweare, as I am the hend soldan. Thou lettest '^ me here all daye. Then forthe the stranger knight he came 135 In his blacke armoure dight : The ladye sighed a gentle sighe, " That this were my true knighte ! " And nowe the gyaunt and knighte be mett Within the lists soe broad ; 140 And now with swordes soe sharpe of Steele, They gan to lay on load.^ The soldan strucke the knighte a stroke. That made him reele asyde ; Then woe-begone was that fayre ladye, 145 And thrice she deeply sighde. The soldan strucke a second stroke, And made the bloude to flowe : All pale and wan was that ladye fayre, And thrice she wept for woe. 150 The soldan strucke a third fell stroke, Which brought the kniofhte on his knee : Sad sorrow pierced that ladyes heart, And she shriekt loud shriekings three. \} reward. ^ detainest. ^ give blows.] SIR CAULINE. 75 The knighte he leapt upon his feete, 155 All recklesse of the pain : Quoth hee, But^ heaven be now my speedc, Or else'^ I shall be slaine. He grasped his sworde with mayne and mighte, And spying a secrette part, 160 He drave it into the soldan's syde, And pierced him to the heart. Then all the people gave a shoute, Whan they sawe the soldan falle : The ladye wept, and thanked Christ, 165 That had reskewed her from thrall.^ And nowe the kino-e with all his barons Rose uppe from offe his seate. And downe he stepped into the listes, That curteous knighte to greete. 170 But he for payne and lacke of bloude Was fallen into a swounde, And there all walteringe in his gore, Lay lifelesse on the grounde. Come downe, come downe, my daughter deare, 175 Thou art a leeche of skille ; Farre lever ^ had I lose halfe my landes. Than this good knighte sholde spille.^ Downe then steppeth that fayre ladye. To helpe him if she maye ; iSo But when she did his beavere raise, It is my life, my lord, she sayes. And shriekte and swound awaye. Sir Cauline juste lifte up his eyes When he heard his ladye crye, 185 [' unless. 2 " or else," redundant from a misunderstanding of the word but. ^ captivity. ' rather. '" come to harm.) 76 S/J^ CAULINE. i O ladye, I am thine owne true love ; For thee I wisht to dye. I Then giving her one partinge looke, He closed his eyes in death, Ere Christabelle, that ladye milde, 190 Begane to drawe her breathe. But when she found her comelye knighte Indeed was dead and gone, She layde her pale cold cheeke to his, And thus she made her moane. 195 O staye, my deare and onlye lord, For mee thy faithfulle feere ; ^ 'Tis meet that I shold followe thee. Who hast bought my love soe deare. Then fayntinge in a deadlye swoune, 200 And with a deepe-fette ^ sighe, That burst her gentle hearte in twayne, Fayre Christabelle did dye.] [f^^^^HE following is the original ballad from which Percy con- Iv^lly^ cocted his own. It is reprinted from Bishop Percy i Folio ^^i^^ MS.,ed. Hales and Fiirtiivall, vol. iii. p. i. lesus : lord mickle of might, that dyed fifor vs on the roode to maintaine vs in all our right, that loues true English blood. ffor by a ILnight I say my song, - 5 was bold & ffull hardye ; S/r Robert Briuse wold fforth to fhght in-to Ireland ouer the sea ; [' mate. 2 deep-drawn.] S/J^ CAULINE. 77 10 & in t}ia\ land dwells a king w^/ch ouer all does beare the bell, & w/th him there dwelled a curteous K///>//t, men call him S/r Cawline. And he hath a Ladyc to his daughter, of ftashyon shee hath noe peere ; Y^nighh, & lordes they woed her both, 1 5 trusted to haue beene her peere. S/r Cawline loues her best of one, but nothing durst hee say to discreeue his councell to noe man, but deerlye loued this mayd. 20 till itt beftell vpon a day, great dill to him was dight ; the maydens loue remoued his mind, to care bed went the Knight ; & one while he spread his armes him ffroe, 25 & cryed soe pittyouslye " ffor the maydens loue thaX. I haue most minde, this day may comfort mee, or else ere noone I shalbe dead ! " thus can S/r Cawline say. 30 when our p^rrish masse thai itt was done, & our king was bowne to dine, he sayes, " where is S/r Cawline thaX. was wont to serue me w/th ale and wine ? but then answered a curteous Y^iiighX. 35 ffast -wTinginge his hands, " S/r Cawlines sicke, & like to be dead w/thout and a good leedginge." " ffeitch yee downe my daughter deerc, shee is a Leeche fifull ffine ; 40 I, and take you doe & the baken breads and eene on the wine soe red, & looke no day[ njtinesse ffor him to deare, for ffuU loth I wold him teene." this Ladye is gone to his chamber, 45 her maydens ffollowing Nye, " () well," shee sayth, " how doth my T-ord?" " O sicke ! " againe saith hee. 78 SIJ^ CAULINE. '* I, but rise vp wightlye, man, for shame ! neuer lye soe cowardlye here ! 50 itt is told in my ffathers hall, ffor my loue you will dye." " itt is ffor yma Loue, ffayre Ladye, tha\. all this dill I drye. ffor if you wold comfort me w/th a Kisse, 55 then were I brought ffrom bale to blisse ; noe longer here wold I lye." " alas ! soe well you know, S/r Y^nighi, I cannott bee joux peere." " ffor some deeds of armes ffaine wold I doe 60 to be yo?/r Bacheeleere." " vpon Eldridge hill there growes a thorne vpon the mores brodinge ; & wold you, S/r Knight, wake there all night to day of the other Morninge ? 65 " ffor the Eldrige Y^iitg thai is mickle of Might will examine you beforne ; & there was neuer man thai bare his liffe away since the day that I was borne." " but I will ffor your sake, ffaire Ladye, 70 walke on the bents [soe] browne, & lie either bring you a readye token or He neuer come to you againe." but this Ladye is gone to her Chamber, her Maydens ffollowing bright ; 75 & S/r Cawlins gone to the mores soe broad, ffor to Avake there all night. vnto midnight they Moone did rise, he walked vp and downe, & a lightsome bugle then heard he blow 80 ouer the bents soe browne. saies hee, " and if cryance come vntill my hart, I am ffarr ffrom any good towne ; " & he spyed ene a litle him by, a ffuryous King and a ffell, 85 & a ladye bright his brydle led, that seemlye itt was to see ; SIR CAULINE. 79 & soe fast hee called vpon S/r Cawline, *' Oh man, I redd thee fflye ! ffor if cryance come vntill thy hart, 90 I am a-feard least thou mun dye." he sayes, " [no] cryance comes to my hart, nor ifaith I fteare not thee ; ffor because thou minged not christ before. Thee lesse me dreadeth thee." 95 but S/r Cawline he shooke a speare, the '^ing was bold, and abode, & the timber these 2 Children bore soe soone in sunder slode, ffor they tooke & 2 good swords, 100 & they Layden on good Loade. but the Elridge l^ing was mickle of might, & stiffly to the ground did stand ; but S/r Cawline w/th an aukeward stroke he brought him ftrora his hand, 105 I, & fflying ouer his head soe hye, ffell downe of thai Lay land : & his lady stood a litle thereby, flast ringing her hands : " for they maydens loue that you haue most meed, no smyte you my Lord no more, & heest neu(?r come vpon Eldrige [hill] him to sport, gamon, or play, & to meete noe man of middle earth, & tluiX. Hues on christs his lay. 1 15 but he then vp, and tha\. Eldryge Y^ing sett him in his sadle againe, & t}ia\. ?Lldryge Y^ing & his Ladye to their castle are they gone. & hee tooke then vp & thai Eldryge sword 120 as hard as any fflynt, & soe he did those ringes 5, harder than ffyer, and brent. ffirst he i)rrsented to the K//;^^s daughter they hand, & then they sword. '25 " Init a serrett buffett you haue him giuen, the Y^ing & the crowne ! " she sayd. *' I, but 34 stripes corncn beside the rood." 8o SIR CAULINE. & a Gyant that was both stifife [&] strong, 1 30 he lope now them amonge, & vpon his squier 5 heads he bare, vnmackley made was hee. & he dranke then on the Kz/z^s wine, & hee put the cup in his sleeue; 135 & all the trembled & were wan ftbr feare he shold them greeffe. " He tell thee mine Arrand, K//zf," he sayes, " mine errand what I doe heere ; | ffor I will bren thy temples hye, 140 | or He haue thy daughter deere ; in, or else vpon, yond more soe brood thou shalt ffind mee a ppeare." i the Y^ing he turned him round about, (Lor^, in his heart he was woe !), 145 says, " is there noe Y^night of the round table this matter will vndergoe ? " I, & hee shall haue my broad Lands, & keepe them well his line ; I, and soe hee shall my daughter deere, 150 to be his weded wiffe." & then stood vp S/r CawHne his o\vne errand ffor to say : " ifaith, I wold to god, S/r," sayd S/r Cawline, " thaX. Soldan I will assay. 155 " goe, ffeitch me downe my Eldrige sword, ffor I woone itt att [a] ffray." " but away, away !" sayd the hend Soldan, " thou tarryest mee here all day ! " but the hend Soldan and S/r Cawline 160 the ffought a sum;/;ers day : now has hee slaine that hend Soldan, & brought his 5 heads away. & the Ydng has betaken him his broade lands & all his venison. 165 " but take you too & youx Lands [soe] broad, & brooke them well yo?/r lifife, ffor you premised mee yoia daughter deere to be my weded wiffe." SIR CAULINE. 8 1 " now by my ffaith,' then sayes our K;«^, 170 " ffor thaX. wee will not striffe ; ffor thou shalt haue my daughter dere to be thy weded witte." the other mominge S/'r Cawline rose by the dawning of the day, 175 & vntill a garden did he goe his Mattins ffor to say ; & thaX. bespyed a ffalse steward — a shames death thai he might dye ! — & he lett a lyon out of a bande, 180 S/r Cawline ffor to teare ; & he had noe wepon him vpon, nor noe wepon did weare. but hee tooke then his Mantle of greene, into the Lyons mouth itt thrust; 185 he held the Lyon soe sore to the wall till the Lyons hart did burst. & the watchmen cryed vpon the walls & sayd, " S/r Cawlines slaine ! and w/th a beast is not ffuU litle, 19° a Lyon of Mickle mayne." then the K/;7^s daughter shee ffell downe, " for peerlesse is my payne ! " " O peace, my Lady ! " sayes S/r Cawline, " I haue bought thy loue ffuU deere. i95 O peace, my Lady ! " sayes S/r Cawline, " peace, Lady, ffor I am heere ! " then he did marry this K///^s daughter w/'th gold & siluer bright, & 15 sonnes this Ladye beere 200 to S/r Cawline the Knight. ffins. 82 EDWARD, EDWARD. V. EDWARD, EDWARD. A Scottish Ballad. From a MS. copy tra7isinitted from Scotland. *HE afifectedly antique orthography of this ballad has caused some to suppose that it was a modern inven- tion, probably by Lady Wardlaw, the author of Hardy- knute, but Motherwell obtained another version from the recitation of an old woman, which he printed in his Minstrelsy under the title of " Son Davie, son Davie." He there says that there is reason to believe that Lord Hailes "made a few slight verbal improvements in the copy he transmitted, and altered the hero's name to Edward, a name which, by the bye, never occurs in a Scottish ballad except where allusion is made to an English king." There is a Swedish ballad of the same character entitled The Fratricide^ s Lament a7id Dialogue 7uith his Mother before he wanders away from home for ever. The form of a dialogue between a mother and her son is a favourite one in the old ballads, and " Lord Donald" in Kinloch's Scottish Ballads and " Lord Randal" in Scott's Minstrelsy he^iX some likeness to the ballad of " Edward." The hero is supposed to have been poisoned by eating toads prepared as a dish of fishes, and the last stanza of Kinloch's ballad is as follows : — " What will ye leave to your true love, Lord Donald, My son ? What will ye leave to your true love. My joUie young man? The tow and the halter for to hang on yon tree. And lat her hang there for the poysoning o' me."] EDWARD, EDWARD. 8-, o UHY dois your brand sae drop wi' bluid,' Edward, Edward ? Ouhy dois your brand sae drop wi' bluid? And quhy sae sad gang yee. O ? "^ O, I hae killed my hauke sae guid, 5 Midler, mither : O, I hae killed my hauke sae guid : And I had nae mair bot hee,"' O. Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, Edward, Edward. 10 Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid, My deir son I tell thee, O. O, I hae killed my reid-roan steid, Mither, Mither : O, I hae killed my reid-roan steid, 15 That erst was sae fair and free, O. Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair, Edward, Edward : Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair, Sum other dule ye drie,^ O. 20 O, I hae killed my fadir deir, Mither, mither : O, I hae killed my fadir deir, Alas ! and wae is me, O ! And quhatten penance wul ye drie ^ for that, 25 Edward, Edward ? And quhatten penance will ye drie for that ? My deir son, now tell me, O. [^ why does your sword so drop with blood. 2 and why so sad go ye. ' no other but he. * some other grief you suffer. * undergo.] 84 EDWARD, EDWARD. He set my feit in yonder boat, Mither, mither : 30 He set my feit in yonder boat, And He fare ^ ovir the sea, O. And quhat wul ye doe wi' your towirs and your ha',* Edward, Edward ? And quhat wul ye doe wi' your towirs and your ha', 35 That were sae fair to see, O ? He let thame stand til they doun fa^^ Mither, mither : He let thame stand til they doun fa,' For here nevir mair maun I bee, O. 4.0 And quhat wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife, Edward, Edward ? And quhat wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife, Quhan ye gang ovir the sea, O ? The warldis room,^ let thame beg throw life, 4.5 Mither, mither : The warldis room, let thame beg throw life, For thame nevir mair wul I see, O. And quhat wul ye leive to your ain mither deir, Edward, Edward ? 50 And quhat wul ye leive to your ain mither deir ? My deir son, now tell me, O. The curse of hell frae me sail ye beir, Mither, mither : The curse of hell frae me sail ye beir, 55 Sic counseils ye gave to me, O. This curious song was transmitted to the editor by Sir David Dalrymple, Bart., late Lord Hailes. [^ pass. ^ hall. ' fall. * the world's large.] KING ESTMERE. 85 VI. KING ESTMERE. 'HIS old Romantic Legend (which is given from two copies, one of them in the editors folio MS., but ^S^ which contained very great variations), bears marks of considerable antiquity, and, perhaps, ought to have taken place of any in this volume. It would seem to have been written while part of Spain was in the hands of the Saracens or Moors : whose empire there was not fully extinguished before the year 1491. The ]\Iahometans are spoken of in v. 49, &c., just in the same terms as in all other old romances. The author of the ancient Legend o{ Sir Brcis represents his hero, upon all occasions, breathing out defiance against " Mahoimd and Termagaunte ; '' * and so full of zeal for his religion, as to return the following polite message to a Paynim king's fair daughter, who had fallen in love with him, and sent two Saracen knights to invite him to her bower, " I wyll not ones stirre off this grounde, To speake with an heathen hounde. Unchristen houndes, I rede you fle. Or I your harte bloud shall se."t Indeed they return the compliment by calling him elsewhere " A christen hounde. 'J This was conformable to the real manners of the barbarous ages : perhaps the same excuse will hardly serve our bard, for that Adland should be found lolling or leaning at his gate (v. 35) may be thought, perchance, a little out of character. And yet the great painter of manners, Homer, did not think it inconsistent with deconim to represent a king of the Taphians leaning at the gate of Ulysses to inquire for that monarch, when he touched at Ithaca as he was taking a voyage with a ship's cargo of iron to dispose in traffic.^ So little ought we to judge of ancient manners by our own. Before 1 conclude this article, I cannot help observing, that the • See a short Memoir at the end of this Ballad, Note fit- t Sign C. ii. b. \ Sign C. i. b. ^ Odyss. n. 105. 86 KING ESTMERE. reader will see, in this ballad, the character of the old Minstrels (those successors of the Bards) placed in a very respectable light :* here he will see one of them represented mounted on a fine horse, accompanied with an attendant to bear his harp after him, and to sing the poems of his composing. Here he will see him mixing in the company of kings without ceremony : no mean proof of the great antiquity of this poem. The farther we carry our inquiries back, the greater respect we find paid to the professors of poetry and music among all the Celtic and Gothic nations. Their character was deemed so sacred, that under its sanction our famous king Alfred (as we have already seen)t made no scruple to enter the Danish camp, and was at once admitted to the king's head- quarters.J Our poet has suggested the same expedient to the heroes of this ballad. All the histories of the North are full of the great reverence paid to this order of men. Harold Harfagre, a celebrated King of Norway, was wont to seat them at his table above all the ofticers of his court : and we find another Norwegian king placing five of them by his side in a day of battle, that they might be eye-witnesses of the great exploits they were to celebrate. § As to Estmere's riding into the hall while the kings were at table, this was usual in the ages of chivalry ; and even to this day we see a relic of this custom still kept up, in the champion's riding into Westminster Hall during the coronation dinner.|| Some liberties have been taken with this tale by the editor, but none without notice to the reader in that part which relates to the subject, of the harper and his attendant. [Percy refers to two copies of this ballad, but there is every reason to believe that one of these was the bishop's own compo- sition, as it was never seen by others and has not since been found. The copy from the folio MS. was torn out by Percy when he was preparing the fourth edition of the Reliques for the press, and is now unfortunately lost, so that we have no means of telling what alterations he made in addition to those which he mentions in the foot notes. The readings in the fourth edition are changed in several places from those printed in the first edition.] * See vol. ii., note subjoined to ist part of Beggar of Bednal, &c. t See the Essay on the Antient Minstrels (Appendix I.) J Even so late as the time of Froissart, we find minstrels and heralds mentioned together, as those who might securely go into an enemy's country. Cap. cxl. § Bartholini Antiq. Dan. p. 173. Northerji Antiquities, &c., vol. i. pp. 386, 389, &c. II See also the account of Edw. II. in the Essay on the Minstrels, and note (x). KING ESTMERE. %y /?^EARKEN to me, orentlemen. 1^ Come and you shall heare ; He tell you of two of the boldest brethren That ever borne y-were. The tone ' of them was Adler younge, 5 The tother was kyng Estmere ; The were as bolde men in their deeds, As any w^ere farr and neare. As they were drinking- ale and wine Within kyng Estmeres halle : 10 When will ye marry a wyfe, brother, A wyfe to glad us all ? Then bespake him kyng Estmere, And answered him hastilee : I know not that ladye in any land 15 That's able '"' to marrye with mee. Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother, Men call her bright and sheene ;"^ If I were kyng here in your stead, That ladye shold be my queene. 20 Saies, Reade me,' reade me, deare brother. Throughout merry England, Where we might find a messenger Betwixt us towe to sende. Ver. 3. brother, f. MS. V. 10. his brother's hall, f. MS. V. 14. hartilye, f. MS. * He means fit, suitable. [■^ the one. ' shining. ' advise inc.] 88 KING ESTMERE. Saies, You shal ryde yourselfe, brother, 25 He beare you companye ; Many throughe fals messengers are deceived, And I feare lest soe shold wee. Thus the renisht ^ them to ryde Of twoe good renisht ^ steeds, 30 And when the came to king Adlands halle, Of redd gold shone their weeds." And when the came to kyng Adlands hall Before the goodlye gate, There they found good kyng Adland 35 Rearing ^ himselfe theratt. Now Christ thee save, good kyng Adland; Now Christ you save and see. Sayd, You be welcome, king Estmere, Right hartilye to mee. 40 You have a daughter, said Adler younge, Men call her bright and sheene, My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe, Of Englande to be queene. Yesterday was att my deere daughter 4.5 Syr Bremor the kyng of Spayne ; And then she nicked ^ him of naye, And I doubt sheele^ do you the same. The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim,^ And 'leeveth ^ on Mahound ; 50 , And pitye it were that fayre ladye Shold marrye a heathen hound. x* Ver. 27. many a man ... is, f. MS. V. 46. the king his Sonne of Spayn, f. MS. [^ they got ready ? ^ harnessed. ■' garments. ^ leaning. ^ refused. ® she will. "^ pagan. ^ believeth.] KING ESTMERE. 89 But grant to me, sayes kyng Estmere, For my love I you praye ; That I may see your daughter deere 55 Before I goe hence awaye. Although itt is seven yeers and more Since my daughter was in halle, She shall come once downe for your sake To glad my guestes alle. 60 Downe then came that mayden fayre, With ladyes laced in pall/ And halfe a hundred of bold knightes, To bring her from bowre to hall ; And as many gentle squiers, 65 To tend upon them all. The talents of Qfolde were on her head sette, Hanged low downe to her knee ; And everye ring on her small finger, Shone of the chrystall free. ' 70 Saies, God you save, my deere madam ; Sales, God you save and see. Said, You be welcome, kyng Estmere, Ricrht welcome unto mee. And if you love me, as you saye, 75. Soe well and hartilee. All that ever you are comen about Soone sped now itt shal bee. Then bespake her father deare : My daughter, I saye naye ; £0 Remember well the kyng of Spayne, What he sayd yesterdaye. He wold pull downe my halles and castles, And reave '^ me of my lyfe I cannot blame him if he doe, 85 If I reave him of his wyfe. [' robe of state. ' bereave.] 90 KING ESTMERE. Your castles and your towres, father, Are stronglye built aboute ; And therefore of the king of Spaine Wee neede not stande in doubt. 9° Plight me your troth, nowe, kyng Estmere, By heaven and your righte hand, That you will marrye me to your wyfe. And make me queene of your land. Then kyng Estmere he plight his troth 95 By heaven and his righte hand, That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe. And make her queene of his land. And he tooke leave of that ladye fayre, To goe to his owne countree, 100 To fetche him dukes and lordes and knightes, That marryed the might bee. They had not ridden scant a myle, A myle forthe of the towne, But in did come the kyng of Spayne, 105 With kempes^ many one. But in did come the kyng of Spayne, With manye a bold barone, Tone day to marrye kyng Adlands daughter, Tother daye to carrye her home. no Shee sent one after kyng Estmere In all the spede might bee. That he must either turne againe and fighte, Or goe home and loose his ladye. One whyle then the page he went, 115 Another while he ranne ; Ver. 89. of the King his sonne of Spaine, f. MS. \} soldiers or knights.] KING ESTMERE. 91 Till he had oretaken king Estmere, I wis, he never blanne.' Tyding-s, tydings, kyng Estmere ! What tydinges nowe, my boye ? no tydinges I can tell to you, That will you sore annoye. You had not ridden scant a mile, A mile out of the towne, But in did come the kyng of Spayne 125 With kempes many a one : But in did come the kyng of Spayne With manye a bold barone. Tone daye to marrye king Adlands daughter. Tother daye to carry her home. 130 My lad)e fayre she greetes you well, And ever-more well by mee : You must either turne againe and fighte. Or goe home and loose your ladye. Sales, Reade me, reade me, deere brother, 135 My reade shall ryde * at thee, Whether it is better to turne and fighte, Or goe home and loose my ladye. Now hearken to me, sa}'es Adler yonge, And your reade must rise f at me, i+o 1 quicklye will devise a waye To sette thy ladye free. My mother was a westerne woman, And learned in gramarye,:}: • j/V MS. It should probably be ryse, i.e. my counsel shall arise from thee. See ver. 140. t sic MS. } See at the end of this ballad, note * ^* . [^ stopped.] 92 KING ESTMERE. And when I learned at the schole, i+s Something shee taught itt mee. There growes an hearbe within this field, And iff it were but knowne, His color, which is whyte and redd, It will make blacke and browne : 150 His color, which is browne and blacke, Itt will make redd and whyte ; That sworde is not in all Englande, Upon his coate will byte. And you shal be a harper, brother, 155 Out of the north countrye ; And He be your boy, soe faine of fighte,*^ And beare your harpe by your knee. And you shal be the best harper, That ever tooke harpe in hand ; 160 And I wil be the best singer. That ever sunof in this lande. Itt shal be written in our forheads All and in grammarye. That we towe are the boldest men, 165 That are in all Christentye. And thus they renisht them to ryde. On tow good renish steedes : And when they came to king Adlands hall, Of redd gold shone their weedes. 170 And whan the came to kyng Adlands hall, Untill the fayre hall yate,"'* There they found a proud porter Rearing himselfe thereatt. [^ fond of fighting. ^ gate.] KING ES THERE. 93 Sayes, Christ thee save, thou proud porter; 175 Sayes, Christ thee save and see. Nowe you be welcome, sayd the porter, Of what land soever ye bee. Wee beene harpers, sayd Adler younge, Come out of the northe countrye ; iSo Wee beene come hither untill this place. This proud weddinge for to see. Sayd, And your color were white and redd, As it is blacke and browne, I wold saye king Estmere and his brother 185 Were comen untill this towne. Then they pulled out a ryng of gold, Layd itt on the porters arme : And ever we will thee, proud porter, Thow wilt saye us no harme. 190 Sore he looked on kyng Estmere, And sore he handled the ryng, Then opened to them the fayre hall yates. He lett^ for no kind of thyng, Kyng Estmere he stabled his steede 195 Soe fayre att the hall bord ; The froth, that came from his brydle bitte. Light in kyng Bremors beard. Saies, Stable thy steed, thou proud harper, Saies, Stable him in the stalle ; 200 It doth not beseeme a proud harper To stable ' him' in a kyngs halle. Ver. 202. to stable his steede, f. MS. \ ' he left ? or he let be opened ?J 94 KING ESTMERE. My ladde he is so lither/ he said, He will doe nought that's meete ; And is there any man in this hall 205 Were able him to beate. Thou speakst proud words, sayes the king of Spaine, Thou harper here to mee : There is a man within this halle. Will beate thy ladd and thee. 210 O let that man come downe, he said, A sight of him wold I see ; And when hee hath beaten well my ladd, Then he shall beate of mee. Downe then came the kemperye man,^ 215 And looked him in the eare ; For all the gold, that was under heaven, He durst not neigh him neare.^ And how nowe, kempe, said the kyng of Spaine, And how what aileth thee ? 220 He saies, It is writt in his forhead All and in gramarye, That for all the gold that is under heaven, I dare not neigh him nye. Then kyng Estmere pulld forth his harpe, 225 And plaid a pretty thinge : The ladye upstart from the borde, And wold have gone from the king. Stay thy harpe, thou proud harper, For Gods love I pray thee 230 For and thou playes as thou beginns, Thou'lt till * my bryde from mee. * i.e. entice. [' lazy or wicked. ^ soldier or fighting man. ^ approach him near.] KING EST MERE. 95 He stroake upon his harpe agalne, And playd a pretty thinge ; The ladye lough ^ a loud laughter, 235 As shee sate by the king. Sales, sell me thy harpe, thou proud harper, And thy stringes all, For as many gold nobles ' thou shalt have ' As heere bee ringes in the hall. 240 What wold ye doe with my harpe, 'he sayd,' If I did sell itt yee ? " To playe my wiffe and me a Fitt,* When abed together wee bee." Now sell me, quoth hee, thy bryde soe gay, ^45 As shee sitts by thy knee, And as many gold nobles I will give. As leaves been on a tree. And what wold ye doe with my bryde soe gay, Iff I did sell her thee ? 250 More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye To lye by mee then thee. Hee played agayne both loud and shrille, And Adler he did syng, " O ladye, this is thy owne true love ; 255 Noe harper, but a kyng. " O ladye, this is thy owne true love. As play nl ye thou mayest see ; Ver. 253. Some liberties have been taken in the following stanzas ; but wherever this edition differs from the preceding, it hath been brought nearer to the folio MS. • /. e. a tune, or strain of music. [' laughed. J 96 KING EST ME RE, And He rid thee of that foule paynim, Who partes thy love and thee." a6o The ladye looked, the ladye blushte, And blushte and lookt agayne, While Adler he hath drawne his brande, And hath the Sowdan slayne. Up then rose the kemperye men, 265 And loud they gan to crye : Ah ! traytors, yee have slayne our kyng, And therefore yee shall dye. Kyng Estmere threwe the harpe asyde, And swith ^ he drew his brand f z7o And Estmere he, and Adler yonge Right stiffe in stour^ can stand. And aye their swordes soe sore can byte, Throughe help of Gramarye That soone they have slayne the kempery men, 275 Or forst them forth to flee. Kyng Estmere tooke that fay re ladye, And marryed her to his wifife, And brought her home to merry England With her to leade his life. a8o *^* The word Gratnarye,^ which occurs several times in the foregoing poem, is probably a corruption of the French word Grimoire, which signifies a conjuring book in the old French romances, if not the art of necromancy itself. -t4-t Termagaunt (mentioned above, p. 85) is the name given in the old romances to the god of the Saracens, in which he is con- \} quickly. ^ sword. ' fight. * or grammar, and hence used for any abstruse learning.] KING ESTMERE. 97 stantly linked with Alahound or Mahomet. Thus, in the legend of Syr Guy, the Soudan (Sultan), swears " So helpe me Mahouine of might, And Tennagautit my god so bright." Sign. p. iii. b. This word is derived by the very learned editor of Junius from the Anglo-Saxon Tyfi very, and ClOajan mighty. As this word had so sublime a derivation, and was so applicable to the true Clod, how shall we account for its being so degraded? Perhaps Typ- majan or Termagant had been a name originally given to some Saxon idol, before our ancestors were converted to Christianity ; or had been the peculiar attribute of one of their false deities ; and therefore the first Christian missionaries rejectetl it as profane and improper to be applied to the tnie God. After^vards, when the irruptions of the Saracens into Europe, and the Crusades into the East, had brought them acquainted with a new species of unbe- lievers, our ignorant ancestors, who thought all that did not receive the Christian law were necessarily pagans and idolaters, supposed the Mahometan creed was in all respects the same with that of their pagan forefathers, and therefore made no scniple to give the ancient name of Termagant to the god of the Saracens, just in the same manner as they afterwards used the name of Sarazen to express any kind of pagan or idolater. In the ancient romance of Alcrlinc (in the editor's folio ISIS.) the Saxons themselves that came over with Hengist, because they were not Christians, are constantly called Sarazens. However that be, it is certain that, after the times of the Cru- sades, both Maliound and 'Tcrmagaunt made their frequent appear- ance in the pageants and religious interludes of the barbarous ages ; in which they were exhibited with gestures so furious and frantic, as to become proverbial. Thus Skelton speaks of Wol- sey : — " Like Mahound in a play, No man dare him withsay." Ed. 1736, p. 158. In like manner Bale, describing the threats used by some papist magistrates to his wife, speaks of them as " grennyng upon her lyke Termagauntes in a playe." {Ades of Engl. Votary es, pt. ii. fo. 83, Kd. 1550, i2mo.) Accordingly in a letter of Edward Alleyn, the founder of Dulwich College, to his wife or sister, who, it seems, with all her fellows (the players), had been " by my Eorde Maiors officer[sl mad to rid in a cart," he expresses his concern that she should " fall into the hands of suche Tarmagants." (So the orig. dated May 2, 1593, preserved by the care of the Rev. Thomas Jcnyns Smith, Fellow of Dulw. Coll.) Hence we may conceive n 98 KING ESTMERE. the force of Hamlet's expression in Shakspeare, where, con- demning a ranting player, he says, " I could have such a fellow whipt for ore-doing Termagant: it out-herods Herod" (Act iii. sc. 3). By degrees the word came to be applied to an outrageous turbulent person, and especially to a violent brawling woman ; to whom alone it is now confined, and this the rather as, I suppose, the character of Termagant was anciently represented on the stage after the eastern mode, with long robes or petticoats. Another frequent character in the old pageants or interludes of our ancestors, was the sowdan or soldati, representing a grim eastern tyrant. This appears from a curious passage in Stow's Annals (p. 458). In a stage-play "the people know right well that he that plaieth the sowdain, is percase a sowter [shoe-maker]; yet if one should cal him by his owne name, while he standeth in his majestic, one of his tormenters might hap to break his head." The sowdain, or soldan, was a name given to the Sarazen king (being only a more rude pronunciation of the word stdtan), as the soldan of Egypt, the soudan of Persia, the sowdan of Babylon, &c., who were generally represented as accompanied with grim Sarazens, whose business it was to punish and torment Christians. I cannot conclude this short memoir, without observing that the French romancers, who had borrowed the word Termagant from us, and applied it as we in their old romances, corrupted it into Terva- gaiinte ; and from them La Fontaine took it up, and has used it more than once in his tales. This may be added to the other proofs adduced in these volumes of the great intercourse that formerly subsisted between the old minstrels and legendary writers of both nations, and that they mutually borrowed each other's romances. VII. SIR PATRICK SPENCE, A Scottish Ballad, S given from two MS. copies transmitted from Scotland. In what age the hero of this ballad lived, or when this fatal expedition happened that proved so destruc- tive to the Scots nobles, I have not been able to dis- cover ; yet am of opinion, that their catastrophe is not altogether without foundation in history, though it has escaped my own S//^ PATRICK SPENCE. 99 researches. In the infancy of navigation, such as used the northern seas were very liable to ship\\Teck in the wintry months : hence a law was enacted in the reign of James III. (a law which was frequently repeated afterwards), " That there be na schip frauched out of the realm with any staple gudes, fra the feast of Simons day and Jude, unto the feast of the purification of our Lady called Candelmess."' Jam. III. Parlt. 2, ch. 15. In some modem copies, instead of Patrick Sjience hath been substituted the name of Sir Andrew Wood, a famous Scottish admiral who flourished in the time of our Edward IV., but whose story has nothing in common with this of the ballad. As Wood was the most noted warrior of Scotland, it is probable that, like the Theban Hercules, he hath engrossed the renown of other heroes. [The fact that this glorious ballad was never heard of before Perc y printed it in 176:^, c aused some to throw doubts upon its auTHenticity, and their scepticism was strengthened by the note at p. 102, which refers to the author of Zf'i?n/i'/Cv////t'. It was thought that the likeness in expression and sentiment there mentioned might easily be explained if the two poems were both by Lady AVardlaw. This view, advocated by Robert Chambers in his general attack on the authenticity of all The Romantic Scottish Balhids (1859), has not met with much favour, and Professor Child thinks that the arguments against the genuineness of .5'/> Patrick Spcncc are so trivial as hardly to admit of statement. He writes, " If not ancient it has been always accepted as such by the most skilful judges, and is a solitary instance of a successful imitation in manner and spirit of the best specimens of authentic minstrelsy."' Cole- ridge, no mean judge of a ballad, wrote — '• The bard be sure was weather-wise who framed The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spens." Antiquaries have objected that Spence is not an early Scottish name, but in this they are wTong, for Professor Aytoun found it in a charter of Robert III. and also in Wyntoun's Chronic/c. There has been considerable discussion as to the historical event referred to in the ballad, and the present version does not contain any mention of one of the points that may help towards a settle- ment of the question. The version in Scott's Minstrelsy contains the following stanza: — " To Noroway, to Noroway To Noroway o'er the faem The king's daughter of Noroway 'Tis thou maun bring her hamc." [' Eni^/ish and Scottish BaUads, vol. iii. p. 149. loo SIR PATRICK SPENCE. Professor Aytoun would change the third line to " The king's daughter to Noroway/' as he agrees with Motherwell in the view that the ballad refers to the fate of the Scottish nobles who in 1281 conveyed Margaret, daughter of Alexander III., to Norway, on the occasion of her nuptials with King Eric. Fordun relates this incident as follows: — "In the year 1281 Margaret, daughter of Alexander III., was married to the King of Norway, who, leaving Scotland in the last day of July, was con- veyed thither in noble style in company with many knights and nobles. In returning home after the celebration of her nuptials, the Abbot of Balmerinoch, Bernard of Monte-alto, and many other persons, were drowned." As to the scene of the disaster, Aytoun brings forward an interesting illustration of the expression " half over to Aberdour," in line 41. He says that in the little island of Papa Stronsay one of the Orcadian group lying over against Nor- way, there is a large grave or tumulus which has been known to the inhabitants from time immemorial as " the grave of Sir Patrick Spens," and he adds, that as the Scottish ballads were not early current in Orkney, it is unlikely that the poem originated the name. The other suggestions as to an historical basis for the ballad are not borne out by history. It is well, however, to note in illustra- tion of line I, that the Scottish kings chiefly resided in their palace of Dunfermline from the time of Malcolm Canmore to that of Alexander III. The present copy of the ballad is the shortest of the various versions, but this is not a disadvantage, as it gains much in force by the directness of its language. Buchan prints a ballad called Young Allan, which is somewhat like Sir Patrick Spence.~\ HE king sits in Dumferling toune, Drinkine the blude-reid wine : O quhar will I get guid sailor, To sail this schip of mine ? Up and spak an eldern knicht, Sat at the kings richt kne : Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailor, That sails upon the se. SIR PATRICK SPENCE. loi The king has written a braid letter,* And signd it wi' his hand ; lo And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence, Was walking on the sand. The first line that Sir Patrick red, A loud lauch lauched he : The next line that Sir Patrick red, 15 The teir blinded his ee. O quha is this has don this deid, '■' This ill deid don to me ; To send me out this time o'the yeir, To sail upon the se ? 20 Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all, Our guid schip sails the morne/ O say na sac, my master deir. For I feir a deadlie storme. Late late yestreen I saw the new moone -^ 25 Wi' the auld moone in hir arme ; And I feir, I feir, my deir master, That we will com to harme. c O our Scots nobles wer richt laith'^ To weet their cork-heild schoone ; ' 30 Bot lang owre ^ a' the play wer playd, Thair hats they swam aboone/ O lang, lang, may thair ladies sit Wi' thair fans into their hand, Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spence 3s Cum sailinof to the land. 't. • A braid letter, i.e. open, or patent ; in opposition to close rolls. [' to-morrow morning. '^ lotii. 3 to wet their cork-heeled shoes. ' loiij; ere. * above the water.] I02 S/R PATRICK SPENCE. O lang, lang, may the ladies stand Wi' thair gold kerns ^ in their hair, Waiting for thair ain deir lords, For they'll se thame na main 40 Have owre,*^ have owre to Aberdour,* It's fiftie fadom deip : And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence, Wi' the Scots lords at his feit.f )) VIII. ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE, ,E have here a ballad of Robin Hood (from the editor's folio MS.) which was never before printed, and carries marks of much greater antiquity than any of the com- mon popular songs on this subject. The severity of those tyrannical forest laws that were intro- duced by our Norman kings, and the great temptation of breaking them by such as lived near the royal forests at a time when the yeomanry of this kingdom were everywhere trained up to the long-bow, and excelled all other nations in the art of shoot- ing, must constantly have occasioned great numbers of outlaws, * A village lying upon the river Forth, the entrance to which is sometimes denominated De niortiio mari. [Finlay observes that Percy's note is incorrect. The truth is that De Mortuo Mari is the designation of a family (Mortimer) who were lords of Aberdour. They are believed to have received their name from the Dead Sea, in Palestine, during the times of the Crusades.] t An ingenious friend thinks the author of Hardyknute has bor- rowed several expressions and sentiments from the foregoing and other old Scottish songs in this collection. [• combs. "^ half over.] ROBIN HOOD. 103 and especially of such as were the best marksmen. These na- turally fled to the woods for shelter, and, forming into troops, en- deavoured by their numbers to protect themselves from the dread- ful penalties of their delinquency. The ancient punishment for killing the king's deer was loss of eyes and castration, a punish- ment far worse than death. This will easily account for the troops of banditti which formerly lurked in the royal forests, and, from their superior skill in archery and knowledge of all the recesses of those unfrequented solitudes, found it no difficult matter to resist or elude the civil power. Amoncj all those, none was ever more famous than the hero of this ballad, whose chief residence was m Shirewood forest, m Not- tinghamshire, and the heads of whose story, as collected by Stow, are briefly these. " In this time [about the year 11 90, in the reign of Richard I.] were many robbers, and outlawes, among the which Robin Hood, and Little John, reno^\•ned theeves, continued in woods, despoyling and robbing the goods of the rich. They killed none but such as would invade them ; or by resistance for their own defence. " The saide Robert entertained an hundred tail men and good archers with such spoiles and thefts as he got, upon whom four hundred (were they ever so strong) durst not give the onset. He suffered no woman to be oppressed, violated, or otherwise molested : poore mens goods he spared, abundantlie relieving them with that which by theft he got from abbeys and the houses of rich carles : whom Maior (the historian) blameth for his rapine and theft, but of all theeves he afiirmeth him to be the prince, and the most gentle theefe." — Annals, p. 159. The personal courage of this celebrated outlaw, his skill in archery, his humanity, and especially his levelling principle of taking from the rich and giving to the poor, have in all ages ren- dered him the favourite of the common people, who, not content to celebrate his memory by innumerable songs and stories, have erected him into the dignity of an earl. Indeed, it is not impos- sible but our hero, to gain the more respect from his followers, or they to derive the more credit to their profession, may have given rise to such a report themselves : for we find it recorded in an epitaph, which, if genuine, must have been inscribed on his tombstone near the nunnery of Kirklees in Yorkshire ; where (as the story goes) he was bled to death by a treacherous nun to whom he applied for ])hlebotomy : — " Hear undernead dis laitl stean laij robert earl of huntingtun nea arcir ver aj hie sac geud an pipl kauld im Robin Heud I04 ROBIN HOOD A^ND sick utlaw^ as hi an is men vil England nivir si agen. obiit 24 kal. dekembris. 1247."* This epitaph appears to me suspicious ; however, a late an- tiquary has given a pedigree of Robin Hood, which, if genuine, shows that he had real pretensions to the Earldom of Huntingdon, and that his true name was Robcft Fitz-ooth.\ Yet the most ancient poems on Robin Hood make no mention of this earldom. He is expressly asserted to have been a yeoman j in a very old legend in verse, preserved in the archives of the public library at Cambridge, § in €\^\.fyttes, or parts, printed in black letter, quarto, thus inscribed : " <[ Here begynneth a lytell geste of Robyn hode and his meyne, and of the proude sheryfe of Notyngham." The first lines are — " Lithe and lysten, gentylmen. That be of fre-bore blode : I shall you tell of a good yenian, His name was Robyn hode. " Robyn was a proude out-lawe. Whiles he walked on grounde ; So curteyse an outlawe as he was one, Was never none yfounde," &c. The printer's colophon is, "<[ Explicit Kinge Edwarde and Robin hode and Lyttel Johan. Enprented at London in Flete- strete at the sygne of the sone by Wynkin de Worde." In Mr. Gan'ick's Collection |1 is a different edition of the same poem, " |[ Imprinted at London upon the thre Crane wharfe by Wyllyam Copland," containing at the end a little dramatic piece on the sub- ject of Robin Hood and the Friar, not found in the former copy, called, " A newe playe for to be played in Maye games very plesaunte and full of pastyme. |[ (.•.) ]|." I shall conclude these preliminary remarks with observing, that the hero of this ballad was the favourite subject of popular songs so early as the time of King Edward III. In the Visions of Pierce Floiuman, written in that reign, a monk says : — " I can rimes of Roben Hod, and Randal of Chester, But of our Lorde and our Lady, I lerne nothyng at all." Fol. 26, ed. 1550. * See Thoresby's Ducat. Leod. p. 576. Biog. Brit. vi. 3933. t Stukeley, in his Palaographia Britannica, No. II. 1746. X See also the following ballad, v. 147. § Num. D. 5. 2. II Old Plays, 4to. K. vol, x. GUY OF GISnORNE. 105 See also in Bishop Latimer's Sermons* a very curious and charac- teristic story, which shows what respect was shown to the memory of our archer in the time of that prelate. The curious reader will find many other particulars relating to this celebrated outlaw, in Sir John Hawkins's Hist, of Music, vol. iii. p. 410, 4to. For the catastrophe of Little John, who, it seems, was executed for a robber}' on Arbor-hill, Dublin (with some curious particulars relating to his skill in archery), see ]\Ir. J. C. Walker's ingenious Memoir on the Armour and Weapons of the Irish, p. 129, annexed to his Historical Essay on the Dress of the Ancient and Modern Irish. Dublin, 1788, 4to. Some liberties were, by the editor, taken with this ballad ; which, in this edition, hath been brought nearer to the foUo MS. [Robin Hood is first mentioned in literature in Piers FlotviJian, the earliest of the three fomis of which poem was %\Tittcn probably about the year 1362. The ballad of Robin Hood and the Monk, printed in Child's English and Scottish Ballads, as the oldest of its class, and possibly as old as the reign of Edward IL, com- mences: — " In somer when the shawes be sheyne And leves be large and longe Hit is full mery in feyre foreste To here the foulys song." Verses which bear a strong likeness to the opening lines of the present ballad. Gisborne is a market town in the West Riding of the county of York on the borders of Lancashire, and Guy of that i)lace is men- tioned by William Dunbar in a satirical piece on " Schir Thomas Nory," where he is named in company with Adam Bell and other well-kno\vn worthies. It is not needful to extend this note with any further particulars of Robin Hood, as he possesses, in virtue of his position as a popular hero, a literature of his own. Those who wish to know more of his exploits should consult Ritson's (1795) and Gutch's ( 1 847) Collections oi Robin Hood Ballads, Child's Ballads, vol. v. and Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, vol. i. pp. 3S7-400. There are several Robin Hood Ballads in the folio MS., but Percy only chose the one containing an account of the encounter with Guy for printing. Ritson copied this ballad from Percy's book, but indulged at the same time in a tirade against the bishop's treatment of his original.] • Ser. 6th before K. Ed. Apr. 12. fol. 75. Gilpin's Life of Lat.y p. 122. io6 ROBIN HOOD AND HEN shaws beene sheene/ and shradds^ full fayre, And leaves both large and longe, Itt is merrye walking in the fayre forrest To heare the small birdes songe. The woodweele^ sang, and wold not cease, 5 [Sitting upon the spraye, Soe lowde, he wakened Robin Hood, In the greenwood where he lay. Now by my faye,^ sayd jollye Robin, A sweaven^ I had this night ; 10 I dreamt me of tow wighty'' yemen, That fast with me can fight.] Methought they did mee beate and binde. And tooke my bow mee froe ; ^ If I be Robin alive in this lande, 15 He be wroken'' on them towe. Sweavens are swift, Master, quoth John, As the wind that blowes ore a hill ; For if itt be never so loude this night. To-morrow itt may be still. 20 [Ver. I. shales, f. MS. V. 4. birds singe, f. MS. V. 5. wood- weete, f. MS. In place of ver. 6-12 between brackets the f. MS. has — " Amongst the leaves a lyne r* * * *"| And it is by two wight yeomen By deare God that I meane." ^ when woods are bright. ^ twigs. ^ woodpecker or thrush. I) ^ faith. * dream. *• strong. ' from me. ( ^ revenged.] GUY OF GISBORNE. 107 Buske yee, bowne yee,^ my merry men all, And John shall goe with mee, For He goe seeke yond wight yeomen, In greenwood where the bee. The cast on their gownes of grene, 25 [And tooke theyr bowes each one ; And they away to the greene forrest] A shooting forth are gone ; Untill they came to the merry greenwood. Where they had gladdest bee, 30 There were the ware"^ of a wight yeoman, His body leaned to a tree. A sword and a dagger he wore by his side, Of manye a man the bane ; And he was clad in his capull hyde'^ 35 Topp and tayll and mayne. Stand you still, master, quoth Litle John, Under this tree so grene, And I will go to yond wight yeoman To know what he doth meane. 40 Ah ! John, by me thou settest noe store. And that I farley^ finde : How offt send I my men beffore, And tarry my selfe behinde ? It is no cunning a knave to ken, 45 And a man but heare him speake ; [Vcr. 28. a shooting gone are they, f. MS. V. 34. had bccnc many a mans bane, f. MS. V. 40. to know his meaning trulyc, f. MS. V. 42. and thats a ffluley tliinge, f. MS. ' dress ye, get ye ready. "^ were they aware. ' horse-liide. ^ strange.J io8 ROBIN HOOD AND And itt were not for bursting of my bowe, John, I thy head wold breake. As often wordes they breeden bale/ So they parted Robin and John ; 50 And John is gone to Barnesdale : The gates* he knoweth eche one. But when he came to Barnesdale, Great heavinesse there hee hadd, For he found tow of his owne fellowes Were slaine both in a slade."^ 55 And Scarlette he was flyinge a-foote Fast over stocke and stone. For the sheriffe with seven score men Fast after him is gone. 60 One shoote now I will shoote, quoth John, With Christ his might and mayne ; He make yond fellow that flyes soe fast. To stopp he shall be fayne. Then John bent up his long bende-bowe, 65 And fetteled^ him to shoote : The bow was made of a tender boughe. And fell downe to his foote. Woe worth, woe worth thee, wicked wood, That ere thou grew on a tree ; 70 [Ver. 61. yet one shoote Tie shoote, says Little John, f. MS. V. 64. to be both glad & ffaine, f. MS. V. 65. John bent up a good veiwe bowe, f. MS. V. 69. woe worth thee, wicked wood, says litle John, f. MS.] * /. e. ways, passes, paths, ridings. Gate is a common word in the north for way. [^ breed mischief. 2 greensward between two woods. 3 prepared.] GUY OF GISBORNE. 109 For now this day thou art my bale, My boote ^ when thou shold bee. His shoote it was but loosely shott, Yet flewe not the arrowe in vaine, For itt mett one of the sherriffes men, 75 Good William a Trent was slaine. It had bene better of William a Trent To have bene abed with sorrowe, Than to be that day in the green wood slade To meet with Little Johns arrowe. 80 But as it is said, when men be mett Fyve can doe more than three, The sheriffe hath taken little John, And bound him fast to a tree. Thou shalt be drawen by dale and downe, 85 And hanged hye on a hill. But thou mayst fayle of thy purpose, quoth John, If itt be Christ his will. Let us leave talking of Litle John, And thinke of Robin Hood, 90 How he is gone to the wight yeoman, Where under the leaves he stood. [Ver. 74. the arrowe flew in vaine, f. MS. V. 78. to hange upon a gallowe, f. MS. V. 79. then for to lye in the green-woode, f. MS. V. 80. there slaine with an arrowe, f. MS. V. 82. 6 can doe more then 3, f. MS. V. 83. and they have tane litle John, f. MS. V. 87. But thou may ffayle, quoth litle John, f. MS. V. 88. If itt be Christ's own will, f. MS. V. 90-92. in place of these three verses the f. MS. has : — " for hee is bound fast to a tree, and talkc of (]uy and Robin Hood In they green woode where they bee ' help.] no ROBIN HOOD AND Good morrowe, good fellowe, sayd Robin so fayre, " Good morrowe, good fellow, quoth he :" Methinkes by this bowe thou beares in thy hande 95 A eood archere thou sholdst bee. I am wilfull ^ of my waye, quo' the yeman, And of my morning tyde. He lead thee through the wood, sayd Robin ; Good fellow, He be thy guide. 100 I seeke an outlawe, the straunger sayd, Men call him Robin Hood ; Rather Hd meet with that proud outlawe Than fortye pound soe good. [Now come with me, thou wighty yeman, 105 And Robin thou soone shalt see : But first let us some pastime find Under the oreenwood tree.1 First let us some masterye^ make Among the woods so even, no [how these two yeomen together they mett under the leaves of Lyne, to see what marchandise they made even at that same time." Ver. 93. good morrow, good fellow! quoth Sir Guy, f. MS.- V. 96. a good archer thou seems to bee, f. MS. V. 97. quoth Sir, Guye, i. MS. V. 10 1. I seeke an outlaw, quoth Sir Guye, f. MS. V. 103-4.— " I had rather meet with him upon a day Then 4oli. of golde." V. 105-8. in place of these four verses the f. MS. has — " Iff you tow mett itt wold be scene whether were better afore yee did part awaye ; Let us some other pastime find, good ffellow, I thee pray." V. 109-10. " Let us some other masteryes make, and wee will walke in the woods even," f. MS. ^ ignorant. ^ trial of skill.] GUY OF GISBORNE. in Wee may chance to meet with Robin Hood Here att some unsett Steven/ They ciitt them downe two summer shroggs,'^ That orew both under a breere/ And sett them threescore rood in twaine 115 To shoote the prickes^ y-fere. Leade on, good fellowe, quoth Robin Hood, Leade on, I doe bidd thee. Nay by my faith, good fellowe, hee sayd. My leader thou shalt bee. 120 The first time Robin shot at the pricke, He mist but an inch it froe : The yeoman he was an archer good. But he cold never shoote soe. The second shoote had the wightye yeman, 125 He shote within the garlande :^ But Robin he shott far better than hee, For he clave the good pricke w^ande.^' A blessing upon thy heart, he sayd ; Good fellowe, thy shooting is goode ; 130 For an thy hart be as good as thy hand. Thou wert better then Robin Hoode. [Ver. 116. prickes full near, f. MS. V. 117. sayd Sir CTiiye, f. MS. V. 119. nay by my faith, quoth Robin Hood, f. MS. V. 120. the leader, f. MS. V. 121-23 • — " the first good shoot that Robin ledd did not shoote an inch the pricke ffroe. Guy was an archer good enoughe." V. 125. the 2nd shoote Sir Guy shott. V. 129. gods blessing on thy heart ! sayes Guye. ^ at a time not previously appointed. '^ slirubs. ^ briar. ' mark in the centre of the target. *" the ring within whicli the ])rick was set. •* pole.] 112 ROBIN HOOD AND Now tell me thy name, good fellowe, sayd he, Under the leaves of lyne/ Nay by my faith, quoth bolde Robin, 135 Till thou have told me thine. I dwell by dale and downe, quoth hee. And Robin to take I me sworne ; And when I am called by my right name I am Guye of good Gisborne. 140 My dwelling is in this wood, sayes Robin, By thee I set right nought : I am Robin Hood of Barnesdale, Whom thou so lono- hast souo;'ht. He that had neither beene kithe nor kin, 145 Might have seene a full fayre sight, To see how together these yeomen went With blades both browne* and brieht. [Ver. 133. tell me thy name, good fellow, quoth Guy. V. 135. good robin. V. 136-140: — " I dwell by dale and downe, quoth Guye, and I have done many a curst turne ; and he that calles me by my right name, calles me Guy of good Gysborne." V. 144. a ffellow thou hast long sought.] * The common epithet for a sword or other offensive weapon, in the old metrical romances is Brown, as "brown brand," or " brown sword," " brown bill," &c., and sometimes even " bright brown sword." Chaucer applies the word rusiiem the same sense ; thus he describes the reve : — " And by his side he bare a rusty blade." Frol. ver. 620. And even thus the God Mars : — " And in his hand he had a rousty sword." Test, of Cressid. 188. Spenser has sometimes used the same epithet. See Warton's [1 lime.] GC/V OF GISBORNE. 113 To see how these yeomen together they fought Two howres of a summers day : 150 Yett neither Robin Hood nor sir Guy Them fettled to flye away. Robin was reachles^ on a roote, And stumbled at that tyde ; And Guy was quicke and nimble with-all, 155 And hitt him ore the left side. Ah deere Lady, sayd Robin Hood, tho That art both mother and may',"^ I think it was never mans destinye To dye before his day. 160 Robin thought on our ladye deere, And soone leapt up againe, And strait he came with a " backward" stroke, And he sir Guy hath slayne. He took sir Guys head by the hayre, 165 And sticked itt on his bowes end : Thou hast beene a traytor all thy liffe, Which thinfj must have an ende. o Obscrv. vol. ii. p. 62. It should seem, from this particularity, that our ancestors did not pique themselves upon keeping their weapons bright : perhaps they deemed it more honourable to carry them stained with the blood of their enemies. [As the swords are here said to be bright as well as brown, they could not have been rusty. The expression nut-brown sword was used to designate a Damascus blade. Ver. 1 49. " to have seen how these yeomen together fought." V. 151-2:— " itt was neither Guy nor Robin Hood that ffctlled ihcm to llye away."J V. 163. awkwarde, MS. [V. 164. " good sir Guy hee has slayne," f. MS. ' careless. ^ maid. J 1 I80 114 RODIN HOOD AND Robin pulled forth an Irish kniffe, And nicked sir Guy in the face, 170 That he was never on woman born, Cold tell whose head it was. Saies, Lye there, lye there, now sir Guye, And with me be not wrothe ; If thou have had the worse strokes at my hand, 175 Thou shalt have the better clothe. Robin did off his gowne of greene, And on sir Guy did it throwe. And hee put on that capull hyde, That cladd him topp to toe. The bowe, the arrowes, and little home, Now with me I will beare ; For I will away to Barnesdale, To see how my men doe fare. Robin Hood sett Guyes home to his mouth. And a loud blast in it did blow. That beheard the sheriffe of Nottingham, As he leaned under a lowe.^ Hearken, hearken, sayd the sheriffe, I heare nowe tydings good, 190 For yonder I heare sir Guyes home blowe, And he hath slaine Robin Hoode. Yonder I heare sir Guyes home blowe, Itt blowes soe well in tyde, And yonder comes that wightye yeoman, 195 Cladd in his capull hyde. [Ver. 172. cold tell who Sir Guye was. V. 173. good Sir Guye. V. 182 :— " and with me now He beare ffor now I will goe to Barnesdale," f. MS. 1 small hill] 185 GUY OF GISBORNE. 115 Come hyther, come hyther, thou good sir Guy, Aske what thou wilt of mee. O I will none of thy gold, sayd Robin, Nor I will none of thy fee : 200 But now I have slaine the master, he sayes. Let me go strike the knave ; This is all the rewarde I aske ; Nor noe other will I have. Thou art a madman, said the sheriffe, 205 Thou sholdest have had a knights fee : But seeing thy asking hath beene soe bad. Well granted it shale be. When Litle John heard his master speake, Well knewe he it was his Steven •} 210 Now shall I be looset, quoth Litle John, With Christ his mieht in heaven. t) Fast Robin hee hyed him to Little John, He thought to loose him belive ;^ The sheriffe and all his companye 215 Fast after him did drive. Stand abacke, stand abacke, sayd Robin ; Why draw you mee soe neere ? Itt was never the use in our countrye. Ones shrift another shold heere. 220 But Robin pulled forth an Irysh kniffe, And losed John hand and foote. And gave him sir Guycs bow into his hand, And bade it be his boote.' [Vcr. 199: — " He none of thy gold, sayes Robin Hood nor lie none of itt have," f MS. ' voice. 2 quickly. ■* help.] ii6 ROBIN HOOD. Then John he took Guyes bow in his hand, 225 His boltes and arrowes eche one : When the sheriffe saw Little John bend his bow, He fettled him to be gone. Towards his house in Nottingham towne, He fled full fast away ; 230 And soe did all his companye : Not one behind wold stay. But he cold neither runne soe fast, Nor away soe fast cold ryde, But Litle John with an arrowe soe broad, 235 He shott him into the * backe'-syde. *,* The title of Sir was not formerly peculiar to knights, it was given to priests, and sometimes to very inferior personages. Dr. Johnson thinks this title was applied to such as had taken the degree of A. B. in the universities, who are still stiled, Domini, "Sirs," to distinguish them from Undergraduates, who have no prefix, and from Masters of Arts, who are stiled Magistri, " Masters." [Ver. 225-8 : — " But John tooke Guyes bow in his hand, his arrowes were rawstye by the roote ; the sherriffe saw little John draw a bow and ffettle him to shoote." V. 229. Towards his house in Nottingham. V. 233-6 : — " But he cold neither soe fast goe, nor away soe fast runn, but litle John with an arrow broade did cleave his head in twinn," f. MS.] EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND. 117 IX. AN ELEGY ON HENRY FOURTH EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND. *HE subject of this poem, which was written by Skelton, ^^P is ^^^^ death of Henry Percy, fourth earl of Northumber- /• 9^ land, who fell a victim to the avarice of Henry VII. In 14S9 the parliament had granted the king a subsidy for carrying on the war in Bretagne. This tax was found so heavy in the North, that the whole country was in a flame. The E. of Nor- thumberland, then lord lieutenant for Yorkshire, %vrote to inform the king of the discontent, and praying an abatement. But nothing is so unrelenting as avarice : the king wTote back that not a penny should be abated. This message being delivered by the earl with too little caution, the populace rose, and, supposing him to be the promoter of their calamity, broke into his house, and murdered him, with several of his attendants, who yet are charged by Skelton Avith being backward in their duty on this occasion. This melancholy event happened at the earl's seat at Cocklodge, near Thirske, in Yorkshire, April 28, 1489. See Lord Bacon, &c. If the reader does not find much poetical merit in this old poem (which yet is one of Skelton's best), he will see a striking picture of the state and magnificence kept up by our ancient'nobility during the feudal times. This great earl is described liere as having, among his menial serva.nts, htig/ih', s//uires, and even barons: see v. 32. 183. &:c. which, however different from modern manners, was for- merly not unusual with our greater barons, whose castles had all the splendour and offices of a royal court before the laws against re- tainers abridged and limited the number of their attendants. John Sliclton, who commonly styled himself Poet Layreat, died June 21, 1529. The following poem, which ajjpears to have been \\Titten soon after the event, is printed from an ancient MS. copy preserved in the British Museum, being much more correct than that printed among Skelton's Poems \x\ 1)1. let. i2mo. 1568.— It is addressed to Henry Percy, fifth earl of Northumberland, and is pre- faced, &c. in the following manner : ii8 AN ELEGY ON THE EARL PoETA Skelton Laureatus libellum suum metrice ALLOQUITUR. Ad dominum properato meum mea pagina Percy, Qui Northumbrorum jura paterna gerit, Ad nutum Celebris tu prona repone leonis, Qujeque suo patri tristia justa cano. Ast ubi perlegit, dubiam sub mente volutet Fortunam, cuncta quae male fida rotat. Qui leo sit felix, & Nestoris occupet annos ; Ad libitum cujus ipse paratus ero. [Percy does not do justice to Skelton's poetical powers in the above note, as this Elegy is written in a style not at all characteristic of him and is also far from being one of his best poems. Skelton was one of the earliest personal satirists in our language, and he flew at high game when he attacked the powerful Wolsey ^vith fierce invective, in his "Why come ye nat to courte?" His Boke of Phyllyp Span-owe is described by Coleridge as " an exquisite and original poem," and its subject entitles him to the designation of the modern Catullus. It was very popular in his day, and the nursery rhyme of Who killed Cock robin? was probably paraphrased from the portion of the poem in which the funeral of the sparrow is related. Skelton was a distinguished scholar and his earlier poems are written in the serious strain of the Elegy, but curiously enough about the time that he took orders (1498) and became rector of Diss in Norfolk, he began to write in a more natural, frolicsome and satirical vein, and adopted the metre now known as Skeltonian. He was not very particular as to the words he used, but he does not deserve the opprobrious epithet that Pope applies to him in the couplet — " Chaucer's worst ribaldry is learned by rote, And beastly Skelton heads of houses quote." Skelton graduated as poet laureate at the two Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, and the King allowed him to wear an appropriate decoration at court. There is a full length portrait of the poet in Brjdges' British Bibliographer (vol. iv. p. 389), taken from one on the back of the title of A ryght delectable tratyse upon a goodly Garlatide or Chaplet of Latcrell by Mayster Skelton, Foete laiireat. The Rev. Alexander Dyce published the first complete collected edition of Skelton's Poetical Works in 1843 (2 vols. 8vo.)] OF NORTHUMBERLAND. 119 SKELTON LAUREAT UPON THE DOLORUS DETHE AND MUCH LAMENTABLE CHAUNCE OF THE MOOST HONORABLE ERLE OF NORTHUMBERLANDE. 7^(^ WAYLE, I wepe, I sobbe, I sigh ful sore \^^ The dedely fate, the dolefulle destenny Of him that is gone, alas! withoute restore. Of the blode* royall descendinge nobelly; Whos lordshepe doutles was slayne lamentably 5 Thorow treson ageyn^ hym compassyd and wrought ; Trew to his prince, in word, in dede, and thought. Of hevenly poems, O Clyo calde by name In the college of musis goddess hystoriall, Adres the to me, whiche am both halt and lame In elect uteraunce to make memoryall : To the for soccour, to the for helpe I call Myne homely rudnes and drighnes to expelle With the freshe waters of Elyconys^ welle. 10 Of noble actes auncyently enrolde. Of famous princis and lordes of astate,^ By thy report ar wonte to be extold, IS * The mother of Henry, first Earl of Northumberland, was Mary- daughter to Henry E. of Lancaster, whose father Edmond was second son of K. Henry HL — The mother and wife of the second Earl of Northumberland were both lineal descendants of K. Edward HL — The Percys also were lineally descended from the Emperour Charlemagne and the ancient Kings of France, by his ancestor Josceline de Lovain (son of Godfrey Duke of Brabant), who took tlie name of Percy on marrying the heiress of that house in the reign of Hen. H. Vid. Camden ISritan., Edmondson, &c. \} against 2 Helicons. "* estate.] I20 AN ELEGY ON THE EARL Regestringe trewly every formare date ; Of thy bountie after the usiiall rate, Kyndle in me suche plenty of thy nobles/ ^o Thes sorrowfulle dities that I may shew expres. In sesons past who hathe harde or sene Of formar writinge by any presidente That vilane hastarddis^ in ther furious tene/ Fulfyld with malice of fro ward entente, 25 Confeterd^ togeder of commoun concente Falsly to slo^ ther moste singular goode lorde ? It may be registerde of shamefull recorde. So noble a man, so valiaunt lorde and knight, Fulfilled with honor, as all the worlde dothe ken ; 30 At his commaundement, whiche had both day and night Knyghtis and squyers, at every season when He calde upon them, as menyall houshold men : Were no thes commones uncurteis karlis of kynde^ To slotheirownelorde? God was not in their minde. 35 And were not they to blame, I say also, That were aboute hym, his owne servants of trust, To suffre hym slayn of his mortall fo ? Fled away from hym, let hym ly in the dust : They bode^ not till the rekening were discust. 40 What shuld I flatter ? what shulde I glose^ or paynt ? Fy, fy for shame, their harts wer to faint. In Englande and Fraunce, which gretlywas redouted;^ Of whom both Flaunders and Scotland stode in drede ; To whome grete astates obeyde and lowttede i^" 45 A mayny^^ of rude villayns made him for to blede : Unkindly they slew hym, that holp them oft at nede : [^ nobleness. ^ rough fellows. ^ wrath. "* confederated. ^ slay. ^ churls by nature. '^ abode. ^ gloss over. ° dreaded. *" , crouched. ^^ a number.] OF NORTHUMBERLAND. 121 He was their bulwark, their paves/ and their wall, Yet shamfully they slew hym; that shame mot'^ them befal. I sa}-, ye commoners, why wer ye so stark mad ? 50 What frantyk frensy fyll'' in youre brayne ? Where was your wit and reson, ye shuld have had ? What willfull foly made yow to ryse agayne^ Your naturall lord ? alas ! I can not fayne. Ye armed you with will, and left your wit behynd; 55 Well may you be called comones most unkynd. He was your chyfteyne,your shelde, your chef defence, Redy to assyst you in every tyme of nede : Your worship^ depended of his excellence : Alas ! ye mad men, to far ye did excede : 60 Your hap was unhappy, to ill was your spede : What movyd you agayn h)m to war or to fight ? What aylde you to sle your lord agyn all right ? The grounde of his quarel was for his sovereyn lord, The welle concernyng of all the hole lande, 65 Demaundyng soche dutyes as nedis most acord To the right of his prince which shold not be with- stand ; For whos cause ye slew hym with your awne hande: But had his nobill men done wel that day, Ye had not been hable to have saide him nay. 70 But thcr was fals packinge,** or els I am begylde : - How-be-it the matter was evident and playne, For yf they had occupied^ ther spere and ther shelde, This noble man doutles had not be slayne. Bot men say they wer lynked with a double chayn,75 And held with the commouns under a cloke, Whiche kindeled the wyld fyre that made all this smoke. [^ large shield. ^ may. ^ fell. ■* against. ' honour. * false dealing. '* used.] 122 AN ELEGY ON THE EARL The commouns renyed^ ther taxes to pay Of them demaunded and asked by the kinge ; With one voice importune, they playnly said nay : 80 They buskt them on a bushment^ themself in baile^ to bringe : Agayne the kings plesure to wrastle or to wringe,* Bluntly as bestis withe boste^ and with cry They saide, they forsede^ not, nor carede not to dy. The noblenes of the northe this valiant lorde and knyght, 85 As man that was innocent of trechery or trayne, Presed forthe boldly to witstand the myght, And, lyke marciall Hector, he fauht them agayne, Vigorously upon them with myght and with mayne, Trustinge in noble men that wer with hym there : 90 Bot all they fled from hym for falshode or fere. Barons, knights, squyers, one and alle, Togeder with servaunts of his famuly, Turnid their backis, and let ther master fall, Of whos [life] they counted not a fiye; 95 Take up whos wolde for them, they let hym ly. Alas ! his golde, his fee, his annuall rente Upon suche a sort' was ille bestowde and spent. He was envyronde aboute on every syde Withe his enemys, that were stark mad and wojde \^ 100 Yet whils he stode he gave them woundes wyde : Alas . for routhe ! ^ what thouche his mynde were goode, His corage manly, yet ther he shed his bloode ! All left alone, alas ! he fawte in vayne ; For cruelly amonge them ther he was slayne. 105 S} refused. 2 thgy prepared themselves for an ambush. ^ trouble. ^ contend. ^ pride. ^ heeded. ' set. ** wild. '-^ pity-] OF NORTHUMBERLAND. 123 Alas for pite ! that Percy thus was spylt/ The famous erle of Northumberlande : Of knightly prowes the sworde pomel and hylt, The myghty lyoun*" doutted'^ by se and lande ! O dolorous chaunce of fortuns fruward hande ! no What man remembring how shamfully he was slayne, From bitter weepinge hymself kan restrayne ? O cruell Mars, thou dedly god of war ! O dolorous teusday, dedicate to thy name, When thou shoke thy sworde so noble a man to mar! 115 O grounde ungracious, unhappy be thy fame, Whiche wert endyed with rede blode of the same ! Moste noble erle ! O fowle mysuryd'' grounde Whereon he gat his fynal dedely wounde ! O Atropos, of the fatall systers thre, 120 Goddes mooste cruell unto the lyf of man. All merciles, in the ys no pite ! O homycide, whiche sleest* all that thou kan, So forcibly upon this erle thow ran, That with thy sworde enharpid^ of mortall drede, 125 Thou kit^ asonder his perhght^ vitall threde ! My wordis unpullysht be nakide and playne, Of aureat" poems they want ellumynynge ; ^ Bot by them to knoulege ye may attayne Of this lordis dethe and of his murdrynge. 130 Which whils helyvyd had fuyson^" of every thing. Of knights, of squyers, chef lord of toure and toune, Tyl fykkilP^ fortune began on hym to frowne. * Alluding to his crest and supporters. Doutted is contracted for redoubted. \} destroyed. "^ dreaded. ^ misused, applied to a bad purpose. ' slayest. ^ hooked or edged. " cut. ^ perfect. * golden. ^ embellishing. ^"^ abundance. '' fickle.] 124 AN ELEGY ON THE EARL ParegalP to dukis, with kings he myght compare, Surmountinge in honor all erls he did excede, 135 To all cuntreis aboute hym reporte^ me I dare. Lyke to Eneas benygne in worde and dede, Valiaunt as Hector in every marciall nede, Provydent, discrete, circumspect, and wyse, 139 Tyll the chaunce ran agyne him of fortunes duble dyse. What nedethe me for to extoU his fame With my rude pen enkankerd all with rust ? Whos noble actis shew worsheply his name, Transcendyng far myne homely muse, that must Yet sumwhat wright supprisid with hartly lust,^ 145 Truly reportinge his right noble astate. Immortally whiche is immaculate. His noble blode never disteynyd was, Trew to his prince for to defende his right, Doublenes hatinge, fals maters to compas, 150 Treytory^ and treson he bannesht out of syght, With trowth to medle was all his hole delyght, As all his kuntrey kan testefy the same : To slo suche a lord, alas, it was grete shame. If the hole quere^ of the musis nyne 155 In me all onely wer sett and comprisyde, Enbrethed with the blast of influence dyvyne. As perfightly as could be thought or devysyd ; To me also allthouche it were promysyde Of laureat Phebus holy the eloquence, 160 All were to litill for his magnyficence. O yonge lyon, bot tender yet of age,^ Grow and encrese, remembre thyn astate, God the assyst unto thyn herytage, [^ equal. ^ refer. ^ overpowered with hearty desire. "* treachery. * whole choir. * the earl's son was only eleven years old at the time of his father's death.] OF NORTHUMBERLAND. 125 And geve the grace to be more fortunate, 165 Agayne rebellyouns arme to make debate. And, as the lyoune, whiche is of bestis kinge. Unto thy subjectis be kurteis and benyngne. I pray God sende the prosperous lyf and long, Stabille thy mynde constant to be and fast, 170 Right to mayntein, and to resist all wronge : All flattringe faytors^ abhor and from the cast, Of foule detraction God kepe the from the blast : Let double delinge in the have no place, And be not light of credence in no case. 175 Wythe hevy chere, with dolorous hart and mynd, Eche man may sorrow in his inward thought, Th)'s lords death, whose pere is hard to fynd Allgyf^ Englond and Fraunce were thorow saught. Al kings, all princes, all dukes, well they ought iSo Bothe temporal! and spirituall for to complayne This noble man, that crewelly was slayne. More specially barons, and those knygtes bold. And all other gentilmen with hym enterteynd In fee, as menyall men of his housold, 185 Whom he as lord worsheply manteynd : To sorowfull weping they ought to be constreynd, As oft as thei call to ther remembraunce. Of ther good lord the fate and dedely chaunce. O perlese prince of hevyn emperyalle, 190 That with one worde formed al thinsf of nou^hte; Hevyn, hell, and erth obey unto thi kail ; Which to thy resemblance wondcrsly hast wrought All mankynd, whom thou full dere hast boght. With thy blode precious our finaunce'' thou dyd pay,i95 And us redemed, from the fendys pray ; ' [^ deceivers. ^ although. ^ fine or forfeiture. ^ prey of the fiends.] 126 EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND. To the pray we, as prince Incomperable, As thou art of mercy and pite the well, Thou bringe unto thy joye etermynable^ The sowle of this lorde from all daunger of hell, 200 In endles blis with the to byde and dwell In thy palace above the orient, Where thou art lorde, and God omnipotent. O queue of mercy, O lady full of grace. Maiden moste pure, and goddis moder dere, 205 To sorowfull harts chef comfort and solace, Of all women O fioure withouten pere. Pray to thy son above the starris clere, He to vouchesaf by thy mediatioun To pardon thy servant, and bringe to salvacion. 210 In joy triumphaunt the hevenly yerarchy,'^ With all the hole sorte ^ of that glorious place, His soule mof* receyve into ther company Thorowe bounte of hym that formed all solace : Well of pite, of mercy, and of grace, 215 The father, the son, and the holy goste In Trinitate one God of myghts moste. tit I have placed the foregoing poem of Skelton's before the fol- lowing extract from Halves, not only because it was written first, but because I think Skelton is in general to be considered as the earlier poet; many of his poems being written long h^{o\t Halves' s Graunde Amour. \} interminable. 2 hierarchy. 2 whole company. ^ may.] THE TOWER OF DOCTRINE. 127 X. THE TOWER OF DOCTRINE. ' ^^HE reader has here a specimen of the descriptive powers .,^y of StcpJun Hawcs, a celebrated poet in the reign of Hen. VII. tho' now little known. It is extracted from an allegorical poem of his (^mtten in 1505.) intitled, History of Graunde Amour e and La Bel Pucell, called the Pastime of Pleasure, o^c. 4to. 1555. See more of Hawes in Ath. Ox. V. I. p. 6. and Warton's Ohserv. v. 2. p. 105. He was also author of a book, intitled, The Temple of Glass. IVrote by Stephen Hazces, gentle /nan of the bedchamber to K. Henry VII. Pr. for Caxton, 4to. no date. The following Stanzas are taken from Chap. III. and IV. of the Hist, above-mentioned. '* How Fame departed from Graunde Amoure and left him \nth Governaunce and Grace, and how he went to the Tower of Doctrine, &c." — As we are able to give no small l}Tic piece of Hawes's, the reader will excuse the insertion of this extract. [Most readers unll probably be satisfied Avith the seventy-four lines that Percy has extracted from Hawes's long didactic poem, but those who \vish to read the whole will find it reprinted by Mr. Thomas "Wright in the fifteenth volume of the Percy Society's publications. The account of Rhetorick and the other allegorical nullities is weary reading, but the chapter in commendation of Gower, Chaucer and the author's master Lydgate, " the chefe orygynal of my lernyng," is interesting from a literary point of view. The poem was very popular in its own day and passed through several editions, and it has found admirers among critics of a later age. The Rev. Dr. Hodgson in a letter to Percy, dated Sept. 22, 1800,* speaks of it in very extravagant terms, and regrets that it had not then found an editor, as he regarded it " as one of tlie finest poems in our own or any other language." Warton describes Hawes as the only writer deser\'ing the name of a poet in the reign of Henry VII. and says that " this poem contains no common touches of romantic and allegoric fiction." Mr. Wright however looks at it as " one of those allegorical writings which were popular with our foreflitliers, but which can now only be looked upon as monuments of the bad taste [' Nichols' Illustrations of Literature, vol. viii. p. 344-] 128 THE TOWER of a bad age." Hawes was a native of Suffolk, but the dates of his birth and death are not kno\vn. He studied in the University of Oxford and afterwards travelled much, becoming "a complete master of the French and Italian poetry,"] Cap. III. * ik LOKED about and saw a craggy roche, Farre in the west, neare to the element, And as I dyd then unto it approche, Upon the toppe I sawe refulgent The royal tower of Morall Document, 5 Made of fine copper with turrettes fayre and hye, Which against Phebus shone so marveylously, That for the very perfect bryghtnes What of the tower, and of the cleare sunne, I could nothyng behold the goodlines Of that palaice, whereas Doctrine did wonne Tyll at the last, with mysty wyndes donne, The radiant brightnes of golden Phebus Auster gan cover with clowde tenebrus.* Then to the tower I drewe nere and nere, 15 And often mused of the great hyghnes Of the craggy rocke, which quadrant did appeare : But the fayre tower, so much of ryches Was all about, sexangled doubtles ; Gargeyld^ with grayhoundes, and with manylyons,2o Made of fyne golde ; with divers sundry dragons.* 10 1 * Greyhounds, Lions, Dragons, were at that time the royal sup- porters. \} dwell. dark. from gargoyle the spout of a gutter.] OF DOCTRINE. 129 The little turrets with ymages of golde About was set, whiche with the wynde aye moved. Wyth propre vices/ that I did well iDeholde About the towers, in sundry wyse they hoved'^ 25 With goodly pypes, in their mouthes i-tuned. That with the wynde they pyped a daunce, I -clipped^ Amour de la hault plcsauncc. Cap. IV. The toure was great and of marvelous wydnes, To whyche ther was no way to passe but one, 30 Into the toure for to have an intres :^ A grece^ there was y-chesyled all of stone Out of the rocke, on whyche men dyd gone Up to the toure, and in lykewyse dyd I Wyth bothe the Grayhoundes in my company :* 35 Tyll that I came unto a ryall gate, \\ here I sawe stondynge the goodly Portres, Whiche axed me, from whence I came a-late '^. To whome I gan in every thynge expresse All myne adventure, chaunce, and busynesse, 40 And eke my name ; I tolde her every dell : Whan she herde this, she lyked me right well. Her name, she sayd, was called Countenaunce ; Into the besy*" courte she dyd me then lede, Where was a fountayne depured^ of pleasance, 45 A noble sprynge, a ryall conduyte hede. Made of fyne golde enameled with reed ; And on the toppe four dragons blewe and stoute Th)s dulcet water in foure partyes dyd spout. This alludes to a former part of the Poem. r' devices. 2 heaved. ■' called. ^ entrance. ''_ a flight of steps. ^ busy. Percy reads base or lower court. " purified.] K I30 THE TOWER OF DOCTRINE. Of whyche there flowed foure ryvers ryght clere, 50 Sweter than Nylus* or Ganges was theyr odoure; Tygrys or Eufrates unto them no pere : I dyd than taste the aromatyke lycoure, Fragraunt of fume, swete as any floure ; And in my mouthe it had a marveylous cent^ 55 Of divers spyces, I knewe not what it ment. And after thys farther forth me brought Dame Countenaunce into a goodly Hall, Of jasper stones it was wonderly wrought : The wyndowes cleare depured all of crystall, 60 And in the roufe on hye over all Of golde was made a ryght crafty vyne ; In stede of grapes the rubies there did shyne. The flore was paved with berall clarified, With pillers made of stones precious, 65 Like a place of pleasure so gayely glorified. It myght be called a palaice glorious. So muche delectable and solacious ;^ The hall was hanged hye and circuler With cloth of arras in the rychest maner. 70 That treated well of a ful noble story, Of the doubty waye to the Tower Perillous ;t Howe a noble knyght should wynne the victory Of many a serpente fowle and odious. ***** • Nysus. PC. t The story of the poem. \} scent. 2 affording solace.] THE CHILD OF ELLE. 131 XI. THE CHILD OF ELLE, ^7^-^ S given from a fragment in tlie Editor's folio MS. which, tho' extremely defective and mutilated, ay)peared to have "^ so much merit, that it excited a strong desire to attempt a completion of the story. The Reader will easily dis- cover the supplemental stanzas by their inferiority, and at the same time be inclined to pardon it, when he considers how difficult it must be to imitate the aftecting simplicity and artless beauties of the original. Child was a title sometimes given to a knight. [The Child of EH, as it appears in the folio j\IS., is a fragment \\-ithout beginning or ending, so that Percy was forced to add some verses in order to fit it for his book, but the above note does not give any adequate notion of his contributions to the ballad. The verses that arc entirely due to the bishop's pen are placed between brackets, and it will be seen from the copy of the original printed at the end that the remaining thirty lines are much altered from it. It is unfortunate that Percy's taste was not sufficient to save him from adding sentimental verses so out of character with the direct- ness of the original as — " Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept, And aye her heart was woe : At length he seized her lilly-white hand. And downe the ladder he drewe." On the other hand, the poem as it stands is certainly elegant, and Sir Walter Scott was justified in his high praise when he pointed out the beauty of verses 181 — 184. " The baron he stroked his dark brown cheek, And turned his head aside To wipe away the starting tear, He proudly strave to hide." Scott published a ballad called " ErHnton " for the first time in his Border Minstrelsy, which he says " seems to be the rude original, or ])crhaps a corrujjt and imperfect copy of The Child of Elle." The original fragment from the M.S. is worth reading for its own sake as a genuine antique, which must outweigh in interest all manufactured imitations.] 132 THE CHILD OF ELLE. N yonder hill a castle standes With walks and towres bedight/ And yonder lives the Child of Elle, A younge and comely knighte. The Child of Elle to his garden wente, s And stood at his garden pale, Whan, lo ! he beheld fair Emmelines page Come trippinge downe the dale. The Child of Elle he hyed him thence, Y-wis he stoode not stille, lo And soone he mette faire Emmelines page Come climbing up the hille. Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page, Now Christe thee save and see ! Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye, 15 ' And what may thy tydinges bee ? My lady shee is all woe-begone. And the teares they falle from her eyne ; And aye she laments the deadlye feude Betweene her house and thine. 20 And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe Bedewde with many a teare. And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her. Who loved thee so deare. And here shee sends thee a ring of golde 25 The last boone thou mayst have, And biddes thee weare it for her sake, Whan she is layde in grave. \} bedecked.] THE CHILD OF ELLE. i r. For, ah ! her gentle heart is broke, And in grave soone must shee bee. 30 Sith her father hath chose her a new new love, And forbidde her to think of thee. . Her father hath brought her a carlish^ knight, Sir John of the north countraye, And within three dayes shee must him wedde, 35 Or he vowes he will her slaye. Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page. And greet thy ladye from mee, And telle her that I her owne true love Will dye, or sette her free. 40 Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page, And let thy fair ladye know This niofht will I bee at her bowre-windowe, Betide me weale or woe. The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne, 4S He neither stint ne stayd Untill he came to fair Emmelines bowre, Whan kneeling downe he sayd, O ladye, I've been with thy own true lot^e, And he greets thee well by mee ; 5° This night will he bee at thy bowre-windowe, And dye or sette thee free. Nowe daye was gone, and night was come, And all were fast asleepe, All save the ladye Emmeline, 55 Who sate in her bowre to weepe : And soone shee heard her true loves voice Lowe whispering at the walle, 1^ churlish.] 134 THE CHILD OF ELLE. Awake, awake, my deare ladye, Tis I thy true love call. 60 Awake, awake, my ladye deare, Come, mount this faire palfraye : This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe, He carry e thee hence awaye. Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight, 65 Nowe nay, this may not bee ; For aye shold I tint my maiden fame, If alone I should wend with thee. O ladye, thou with a knighte so true Mayst safelye wend alone, 70 To my ladye mother I will thee bringe, Where marriage shall make us one. " My father he is a baron bolde, Of lynage proude and hye ; And what would he saye if his daughter 75 Awaye with a knight should fly ? Ah ! well I wot, he never would rest,] Nor his meate should doe him no goode, Until he had slayne thee, Child of EUe, And seene thy deare hearts bloode." 80 ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette, And a little space him fro, 1 would not care for thy cruel father. Nor the worst that he could doe. ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette, 85 And once without this walle, 1 would not care for thy cruel father, Nor the worst that might befalle. [Faire Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept, And aye her heart was woe : 90 THE CHILD OF ELLE. 135 At length he seized her lilly-white hand, And downe the ladder he drewe : And thrice he clasped her to his breste, And kist her tenderlie : The teares that fell from her fair eyes, 95 Ranne like tlie fountayne free,] Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle, And her on a fair palfraye, And slunor his buole about his necke, And roundlye they rode awaye. 100 [All this beheard her owne damselle, In her bed whereas shee ley, Quoth shee. My lord shall knowe of this, See I shall have golde and fee. Awake, awake, thou baron bolde ! 105 Awake, my noble dame ! Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle, To doe the deede of shame. The baron he woke, the baron he rose, And called his merrye men all : no " And come thou forth. Sir John the knighte. Thy ladye is carried to thrall."^] Faire Emmeline scant had ridden a mile, A mile forth of the towne, When she was aware of her fathers men 115 Come galloping over the downe : [And foremost came the carlish knight. Sir John of the north countraye : " Nowe stop, no we stop, thou false traitoure, Nor carry that ladye awaye. 120 f^ into captivity.] 136 THE CHILD OF ELLE. For she is come of hye lineage, And was of a ladye borne, And ill it beseems thee a false churl's sonne To carrye her hence to scorne."] Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight, 125 Nowe thou doest lye of mee ; A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore, Soe never did none by thee. But light nowe downe, my ladye faire, Light downe, and hold my steed, 130 While I and this discourteous knighte Doe trye this arduous deede. But light now downe, my deare ladye, Light downe, and hold my horse ; While I and this discourteous knight 135 [Doe trye our valour's force. Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept, And aye her heart was woe. While twixt her love and the carlish knight Past many a baleful blowe. 140 The Child of File hee fought soe well, As his weapon he waived amaine. That soone he had slaine the carlish knight, And layd him upon the plaine. And nowe the baron, and all his men 145 Full fast approached nye : Ah ! what may ladye Emmeline doe ? Twere nowe no boote^ to flye. Her lover he put his home to his mouth, And blew both loud and shrill, 150 And soone he saw his owne merry men Come ryding over the hill. ["' no advantage.] THE CHILD OF ELLE. i^l " Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baron, I pray thee hold thy hand, Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts, 15s Fast knit in true love's band. Thy daughter I have dearly loved Full long and many a day ; But with such love as holy kirke Hath freelye sayd wee may. i6o O give consent, shee may be mine, And blesse a faithfull paire : My lands and livings are not small, My house and lineage faire : My mother she was an earl's daughter, 165 And a noble knyght my sire— The baron he frowned, and turn'd away With mickle dole and ire. Fair Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept, And did all tremblinge stand : 170 At lengthe she sprang upon her knee. And held his lifted hand. Pardon, my lorde and father deare. This faire yong knyght and mee : Trust me, but for the carlish knyght, 175 I never had fled from thee. Oft have you called your Emmeline Your darling and your joye ; O let not then your harsh resolves Your Emmeline destroye. 180 The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke, And turned his heade asyde To whipe awaye the starting teare, I Ic ])r()udly stravc to hydc. 138 THE CHILD OF ELLE. In deepe revolving thought he stoode, 185 And mused a little space ; Then raised faire Emmeline from the grounde, With many a fond embrace. Here take her, Child of Elle, he sayd, And gave her lillye white hand ; 190 Here take my deare and only child, And with her half my land : Thy father once mine honour wrongde In dayes of youthful pride ; Do thou the injurye repayre 195 In fondnesse for thy bride. And as thou love her, and hold her deare, Heaven prosper thee and thine : And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee, My lovelye Emmeline.] 200 * * * \\\ From the word kirke in ver, 159, this hath been thought to be a Scottish Ballad, but it must be acknowledged that the line referred to is among the additions supplied by the Editor : besides, in the Northern counties of England, kirk is used in the common dialect for churchy as well as beyond the Tweed. [The following thirty-nine lines are the whole of the fragment which Percy used as the groundwork of his poem. They are taken from Bishop Percy's Folio Manuscript^ vol. i. p. 133. Sayes, Christ thee save, good child of Ell ! Christ saue thee and thy steede ! My father sayes he will noe meate. Nor his drinke shall doe him noe good, till he have slaine the Child of Ell And have seene his harts blood. I wold I were in my sadle sett, And a mile out of the towne, I did not care for your father And all his merry men ! THE CHILD OF ELLE. 139 I wold I were in my sadle sett, And a little space him froe, I did not care for your father And all that long him to ! He leaned ore his saddle bow To kisse this Lady good ; The teares that went them two betweene Were blend water and blood. He sett himselfe on one good steed This lady of one palfray And sett his litle home to his mouth And roundlie he rode away. He had not ridden past a mile A mile out of the to^\Tle, Her father was readye with her seven brether He said, sett thou my daughter downe ! For itt ill iDeseemes thee, thou false churles sonne, To carry her forth of this towne ! But lowd thou lyest, Sir John the Knight ! That now doest lye of me ; A knight me gott and a lady me bore ; Soe never did none by thee. But light now downe, my lady gay, Light downe and hold my horsse Whitest I and your father and your brether Doe play us at this crosse \ But light now downe, my owne trew loue, And meeklye hold my steede, Whilest your father [and your brether] bold.] \_IIa/f a page missing.'] HO EDOM 6>' GORDON. XII. EDOM O' GORDON, A Scottish Ballad, JAS printed at Glasgow, by Robert and Andrew Foulis, MDCCLV. 8vo. 12 pages. We are indebted for its publication (with many other valuable things in these «^^^^^} volumes) to Sir David Dalrymple, Bart., who gave it as it was preserved in the memory of a lady that is now dead. The reader will here find it improved and enlarged with several fine stanzas, recovered from a fragment of the same ballad, in the Editor's foHo MS. It is remarkable that the latter is entitled Captain Adam Carre^ and is in the English idiom. But whether the author was English or Scotch, the difference originally was not great. The English Ballads are generally of the North of England, the Scottish are of the South of Scotland, and of consequence the country of ballad-singers was sometimes subject to one crown, and sometimes to the other, and most frequently to neither. Most of the finest old Scotch songs have the scene laid within twenty miles of England, which is indeed all poetic ground, green hills, remains of woods, clear brooks. The pastoral scenes remain : of the rude chivalry of former ages happily nothing remains but the ruins of the castles, where the more daring and successful robbers resided. The house or castle of the Rodcs stood about a measured mile south from Duns, in Berwickshire : some of the ruins of it may be seen to this day. The Gordons were anciently seated in the same county : the two villages of East and West Gordon lie about ten miles from the castle of the Rodes.* The fact, however, on which the ballad is founded, happened in the north of Scotland,! * This ballad is well known in that neighbourhood, where it is intitled Adam O' Gordon. It may be observed, that the famous free-booter whom Edward I. fought with, hand to hand, near Farnham, was named Adam Gordon. t Since this ballad was first printed, the subject of it has been found recorded in Abp. Spotswood's History of the Church of Scot- land, p. 259, who informs us that, "Anno 157 1. In the north parts of Scodand, Adam Gordon (who was deputy for his brother the earl of Huntley) did keep a EDOM O' CORDON. 141 yet it is but too faithful a specimen of the violences practised in tlie feudal times in every part of this Island, and indeed all over Europe. From the different titles of this ballad, it should seem that the old strolling bards or minstrels (who gained a livelihood by reciting these poems) made no scruple of changing the names of the per- sonages they introduced, to humour their hearers. For instance, if a Gordon's conduct was blameworthy in the opinion of that age, the obsequious minstrel would, when among Gordons, change the name to Car, whose clan or sept lay furtlier west, and vur TcrsA. The foregoing observation, which I owed to Sir David Dalrymple, will appear the more perfectly well founded, if, as I have since been infonned (from Crawford's Memoirs), the principal Com- mander of the expedition was a Gordon, and the immediate agent a Car, or Ker ; for then the reciter might, upon good grounds, im- pute the barbarity here deplored, either to a Gordon or a Car, as best suited his purpose. In the third volume the reader will find a similar instance. See the song of Gil Morris, wherein the prin- cipal character introduced had difterent names given him, perhaps from the same cause. It may be proper to mention that, in the folio MS., instead of the " Castle of the Rodes," it is the " Castle of Bittons- borrow," and also " Dractons-borrow," and " Capt. Adam Carre " is called the " Lord of Westerton-town." Uniformity required\ that the additional stanzas supplied from that copy should be clothed in the Scottish orthography and idiom : this has therefore been attempted, though perhaps imperfectly. [Percy's note, which goes to prove that the historical event re- ferred to in tliis ballad occurred in the north of Scotland, negatives the view which is expressed just before, that the borders are the great stir ; and under colour of the queen's authority, committed divers oppressions, especially upon the Forbes's Having killed Arthur Forbes, brother to the lord Forbes. • • • Not long after he sent to summon the house of Tavoy pertaining to Alex- ander Forbes. The Lady refusing to yield without direction from her husband, he put fire unto it, and burnt her therein, with children and servants, being twenty-seven persons in all. " This inhuman and barbarous cruelty made his name odious, and stained all his former doings ; otherwise he was held very active and fortunate in his enterprizes." 'J'his fact, which had escaped tlie Editor's notice, was in the most obliging manner pointed out to him by an ingenious writer who signs his name H. H. (Newcastle, May 9) in the Gcnilcmatis Afa,i;azi//e (or 'Ma.y, 1775. 142 EDOM (9' GORDON. exclusive country of the ballad singers, at all events in this par- ticular instance. Sir David Dalrymple appears to have altered the place of action from Towie to Rodes under a misconception. An extract from Crawford's Memoirs (an. 15 71, p. 240, ed. 1706), is a proper companion to the passage from Spotswood, and explains the title in the folio MS. The person sent was " one Captain Ker with a party of foot. . . . Nor was he ever so much as cashiered for this inhuman action, which made Gordon share in the scandal and the guilt." Gordon, in his History of the Family of Gordon, informs us that, in the true old spirit of Scottish family feuds, the Forbes's afterwards attempted to assassinate Gordon in the streets of Paris. Percy showed good taste in rejecting the termination given in Dalrymple's version, which certainly does not improve the ballad, and has moreover a very modern flavour. The husband is there made to end his days as follows : — " And round and round the wa's he went Their ashes for to view. At last into the flames he flew And bad the world adieu." This ballad is found in various versions, which proves how wide- spread was the popularity of the striking story which it relates. In the version given from the Cotton MS. by Ritson in his Ancient Songs (vol. ii. p. 38, ed. 1829) the husband takes no vengeance on Captain Car. Another version, entitled Lotidoun Castle, is reprinted in Child'' s E?tglish and Scottish Ballads (vol. vi. p. 254), from the Ballads afid Songs of Ayrshire, where the scene is changed to Loudoun Castle, which is supposed to have been burnt about three hundred and sixty years ago by the clan Kennedy. In Ritson's version the castle is called Crechcrynbroghe, and in the Genealogy of the Forbes, by Matthew Lumsden, of Tullikerne, written in 1580 (Inverness, 1819, p. 44), the name is changed to Cargaffe. From this latter source we learn that the lady of Towie was Margaret Campbell, daughter of Sir John Campbell, of Calder, and that the husband, far from flying into the flames, married a second wife, a daughter of Forbes of Reires, who bare him a son named Arthur.] EDOM (9' GORDON. 14- T fell about the Martinmas, / Ouhen the wind blew shril and cauld, "^ Said Edom o' Gordon to his men, We maun draw till a hauld/ And quhat a hauld sail we draw till, 5 My mirry men and me ? We wul gae to the house o' the Rodes, To see that fair ladle. The lady stude on hir castle wa', Beheld baith dale and down : 10 There she was ware of a host of men Cum r)^ding towards the toun.'^ O see ye nat, my mirry men a' ? see ye nat quhat I see ? Methinks I see a host of men : 15 1 marveil quha they be. She weend"* it had been hir luvely lord, As he cam ryding hame ; It was the traitor Edom o' Gordon, Ouha reckt nae sin nor shame. 20 She had nae sooner buskif* hirsel. And putten on hir goun, But Edom o' Gordon and his men Were round about the toun. They had nae sooner supper sett. 25 Nae sooner said the grace, But Edom o' Gordon and his men. Were light about the place. [' to a hold. 2 dwelling-house. ' thought. '' dressed.] 144 EDOM (9' GORDON. The lady ran up to hir towir head, Sa fast as she could hie, 30 To see if by hir fair speeches She could wi' him agree. Buj; quhan he see this lady saif. And hir yates^ all locked fast, He fell intb a rage of wrath, 35 And his look was all aghast. Cum doun to me, ye lady gay, Cum doun, cum doun to me : This night sail ye lig'^ within mine armes, To-morrow my bride sail be. 40 I winnae^ cum doun, ye fals Gordon, I winnae cum doun to thee ; I winnae forsake my ain dear lord, That is sae far frae me. Give owre your house, ye lady fair, 45 Give owre your house to me. Or I sail brenn^ yoursel therein, Bot and^ your babies three. I winnae give owre, ye false Gordon, To nae sik traitor as yee ; 50 And if ye brenn my ain dear babes. My lord sail make ye drie.*^ But reach my pistoll, Glaud, my man,* And charge ye weil my gun :* For, but an' I pierce that bluidy butcher, 55 My babes we been undone. She stude upon hir castle wa'. And let twa bullets flee : * * These three hnes are restored from Foulis's edition, and the fol. MS., which last reads the bullets^ in ver. 58. [1 gates. 2 iig_ 3 ^^-^ j^Qj-_ 4 \y^x\\. ^ and also. " suffer. '^ unless.] EDOM 0' GORDON. 145 She mist that bkiidy butchers hart, And only raz'd his knee. 60 Set fire to the house, quo' fals Gordon, All wood \\'\ dule^ and ire : Fals lady, ye sail rue this deid, As ye bren in the fire. Wae worth,"^ wae worth ye, Jock my man, 65 I paid ye weil your fee ; Quhy pu' ye out the ground-wa' stane.'' Lets in the reek^ to me ? And ein^ wae worth ye, Jock my man, . I paid ye weil your hire ; 70 Quhy pu' ye out the ground-wa stane. To me lets in the fire ? Ye paid me weil my hire, lady ; Ye paid me weil my fee : But now I'm Edom o' Gordons man, 75 Maun either doe or die. than bespaik hir little son, Sate on the nurses knee : Sayes, Mither deare, gi' owre this house, For the reek it smithers me. 80 1 wad gie a' my gowd,^ my childe, Sae wald I a' my fee, For ane blast o' the western wind. To blaw the reek frae thee. O then bespaik hir dochter dear, 85 She was baith jimp'^ and sma : O row" me in a pair o' sheits, And tow me" owre the wa. I ' mad with sorrow. ^ woe betide. ^ ground-wall stone. * smoke. ^ even. " goU- ' slender. " roll. " let me down.J L 146 EDOM (9' GORDON. They rowd hir in a pair o' sheits, And towd hir owre the wa : 90 But on the point of Gordons spear, She gat a deadly fa. bonnie bonnie was hir mouth,. And cherry were hir cheiks, And clear clear was hir yellow hair, 95 Whereon the reid bluid dreips. Then wi' his spear he turnd hir owre, gin hir face was wan ! He sayd, ye are the first that eir 1 wisht alive again. 100 He turnd hir owre and owre againe, O gin hir skin was whyte ! 1 might ha spared that bonnie face To hae been sum mans delyte. Busk and boun,^ my merry men a', 105 For ill dooms I doe guess ; I cannae luik in that bonnie face, As it lyes on the grass. Thame, luiks to freits, my master deir, Then freits wil follow thame : no Let it neir be said brave Edom o' Gordon Was daunted by a dame. But quhen the ladye see the fire Cum flaming owre hir head, She wept and kist her children twain, 115 Sayd, Bairns, we been but dead. Ver. 98, 102. O ^in, g^c. a Scottish idiom to express great admiration. V. 109, no. Thame, 6^r. i.e. Them that look after omens of ill luck, ill luck will follow. \} make ready to go.] EDOM 6>' GORDON. 147 The Gordon then his bougill ^ blew, And said, Awa*, awa' ; This house o' the Rodes is a' in flame, I hauld it time to ea'. I70 O then bespyed hir ain dear lord, As hee cam owr the lee ; He sied^ his castle all in blaze Sa far as he could see. Then sair, O sair his mind misgave, 125 And all his hart was wae ; Put on, put on, my wighty men, So fast as ye can gae. Put on, put on, my wighty^ men, Sa fast as ye can drie ;^ 130 For he that is hindmost of the thrang, Sail neir get guid o' me. Than sum they rade, and sum they rin, Fou fast out-owr the bent ; ^ But eir the foremost could get up, 135 Baith lady and babes were brent. He wrang his hands, he rent his hair. And wept in teenefu' muid : ^ O traitors, for this cruel deid Ye sail weep teirs o'bluid. 14.0 And after the Gordon he is gane, Sa fast as he might drie ; ^ And soon i' the Gordon's foul hartis bluid, He's wroken" his dear ladie. [' bugle. "^ saw. ^ nimble. '' endure. *'• full fast over the meadows. " in wrathful mood. ' bear. ^ revenged.] 148 EDOM O' GORDON. [The following is the version of the ballad in the Percy Folio, which is entitled Captainc Carre. Bishop Percy's Folio MS., ed. J. W. Hales and F. J. Furnivall, 1867, vol. i., pp. 79-83- ffaith. Master, whither you will, whereas you like the best, Unto the castle of Bittons borrow, and there to take your rest. But yonder stands a Castle faire, is made of lyme and stone, Yonder is in it a fayre lady, her lord is ridden and gone. The lady stood on her castle wall, she looked upp and downe. She was ware of an hoast of men came rydinge towards the towne. See you not my merry men all, and see you not what I doe see ? Methinks I see a hoast of men I muse who they shold be. She thought it had beene her lovly Lord, he had come ryding home : it was the traitor, Captaine Carre the Lord of Westerton towne They had noe sooner super sett, and after said the grace but the traitor Captaine Carre ' was light about the place. Give over thy house, thou lady gay I will make thee a band [/. e. bond] all night within mine armes thoust lye, to-morrow be the heyre of my land. He not give over my house, shee said neither for ladds nor man, nor yet for traitor Captaine Carre, Untill my lord come home But reach me my pistoll pee [/. e. piece] and charge you well my gunne. He shoote at the bloody bucher the lord of westerton. EDOM O' GORDON. 149 She stood uppon her castle wall and let the bulletts tlee, and where shee mist .... \Half a page missing.'] But then bespake the little child that sate on the nurses knee, saies, mother deere, give ore this house for the smoake it smoothers me. I wold give all my gold, my childe, soe wold I doe all my fee, for one blast of the westerne -vvind to blow the smoke from thee But when shee saw the fier came flaming ore her head, She tooke them upp her children two Sayes, babes we all beene dead ! But Adam then he fired the house, a sorrowfuU sight to see : now hath he burned this lady faire and eke her children three Then Captain Carre he rode away, he staid noe longer at that tide, he thought that place it was to warme soe neere for to abide He calld unto his merry men all bidd them make hast away for we have slaine his children three all, and his lady gay. Word came to lovly loudon ^ to loudon ^ wheras her lord lay, his castle and his hall was burned all and his lady gay. Soe hath he done his Children three. More dearer unto liini \ then either the silver or the gold that men soe faine wold win. But when he looket this writing on. Lord in is hart he was woe ! saies, I will find thee. Captain Carre, wether thou ryde or goc ! \} printed London in the edition of the MS.] I50 EDOM O' GORDON. Buff yee, bowne yee, my merry men all with tempered swords of Steele, for till I have found out Captaine Carre, My hart it is nothing weele. But when he came to dractons Borrow, soe long ere it was day, and ther he found him, Captaine Carre ; that night he ment to stay.] {Half a page missing.'] THE END OF THE FIRST BOOK. RELIOUES OF ANCIENT POETRY, ETC. SERIES THE FIRST. BOOK 11. BALLADS THAT ILLUSTRATE SHAKESPEARE. r Our great dramatic poet having occasionally quoted many ancient ballads, and even taken the plot of one, if not more, of his plays from among them, it was judged proper to preserve as many of these as could be re- covered, and, that they might be the more easily found, to exhibit them in one collective view. This Second Book is therefore set apart for the reception of such ballads as are quoted by Shakespeare, or contribute in any degree to illustrate his writings : this being the prin- cipal point in view, the candid reader will pardon the admission of some pieces that have no other kind of merit. I. ADAM BELL, CLYM OF THE CLOUGH, AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEY, -ERE three noted outlaws, whose skill in archery rendered them formerly as famous in the north of England, as Robin Hood and his fellows were in the midland coun- ties. Their place of residence was in the forest of Engle- wood, not far from Carlisle (called corruptly in the ballad English- wood, whereas Engle, or Ingle-wood, signifies wood for firing). At what time they Hved does. not appear. The author of the common ballad on " The Pedigree, Education and Marriage of Robin Hood," makes them contemporary with Robin Hood's father, in order to give him the honour of beating them, viz. : " The father of Robin a Forester was, and he shot in a lusty long-bow, Two north-country miles and an inch at a shot, as the Finder of Wakefield does know : For he brought Adam Bell, and Clim of the Clugh, and William a Clowdeslee, To shoot with our Forester for forty mark ; and the P'orester beat them all three." Collect, of Old Ballads, vol. i. (1723), p. 67. This seems to prove that they were commonly thought to have lived before the popular hero of Sherwood. Our northern archers were not unkno\vn to their southern countrymen : their excellence at the longbow is often alluded to by our ancient poets. Shakespeare, in liis comedy of Much adoc about nothing, act i., makes licncdick confirm his resolves of not yielding to love, by this protestation, " If I do, hang me in a 154 ADAM BELL, bottle like a cat,* and shoot at me, and he that hits me, let him be clapt on the shoulder, and called Adam .-" meaning Adam Bell, as Theobald rightly observes, who refers to one or two other passages in our old poets wherein he is mentioned. The Oxford editor has also well conjectured, that " Abraham Cupid" in Romeo and Juliet , act ii. sc. I, should be " Adam Cupid," in allusion to our archer. Ben Jonson has mentioned Clym d the Cloiigh in his Alchemist, act i, sc. 2. And Sir William Davenant, in a mock poem of his, called " The long vacation in London^' describes the Attorneys and Proctors, as making matches to meet in Finsbury fields. " With loynes in canvas bow-case tyde if ^ Where arrowes stick with mickle pride ; . . • Like ghosts of Adam Bell and Clymme. Sol sets for fear they'l shoot at him." Works, 1673, fol. p. 291. I have only to add further concerning the principal hero of this Ballad, that the Bells were noted rogues in the North so late as the time of Q. Elizabeth. See in Rymer's Fcedera, a letter from lord William Howard to some of the officers of state, wherein he men- tions them. As for the following stanzas, which will be judged from the style, orthography, and numbers, to be of considerable antiquity, they were here given (corrected in some places by a MS. copy in the Editor's old folio) from a black-letter 4to. Ijnprinted at London in Lothburye by Wyllyam Copland (no date). That old quarto edition seems to be exactly followed in Pieces of Anciejii Popular Poetry, 6^r. Lond. 1791,1 8vo., the variations from which that occur in the following copy, are selected from many others in the foho MS. above-men- tioned, and when distinguished by the usual inverted * comma,' have been assisted by conjecture. In the same MS. this Ballad is followed by another, intitled Younge Cloudeslee, being a continuation of the present story, and re- citing the adventures of William of Cloudesly's son : but greatly inferior to this both in merit and antiquity. * Bottles formerly were of leather; though perhaps a wooden bottle might be here meant. It is still a diversion in Scotland to hang up a cat in a small cask or firkin, half filled with soot : and then a parcel of clowns on horseback try to beat out the ends of it, in order to show their dexterity in escaping before the contents fall upon them. t /. ^. Each with a canvas bow-case tied round his loins. it Ritson's book.] , CLYM OF THE C LOUGH, ETC. 155 [The version here printed differs but slightly from the one in the Folio MS. (ed. Hales and Furnivall, 1868, vol. iii. p. 76), and as the latter is of no critical value it has been thought unnecessary to point out the various readings. A fragment of an older edition than Copland's mentioned above has been recovered by Mr. Payne Collier, which is attributed to the press of Wynkyn de Worde by Mr. W. C. HazHtt. This spirited ballad is mentioned by Laneham in his Catalogue of Captain Cox's ballads, and the various editions it has passed through, and the frequent references to it in literature, prove its great and deserved popularity. The circumstances of the second Fit resemble closely the rescue of Robin Hood by Little John, as related in ''Robin Hood and the Monk," and the incident of the shot at the apple in the third Fit bears a curious likeness to the very ancient myth which is associated with William Tell. "Allane Bell" is mentioned by Dunbar in company with Robin Hood, Guy of Gisborne, and others, which proves that in his time these names had become mere abstractions.] PART THE FIRST. ERY it was in the grene forest Amonge the levcs grene, Wheras men hunt east and west Wyth bowes and arrowes kene ; To raise the dere out of theyr denne ; s Suche fiofhtes hath ofte bene sene ; As by thre yemen of the north countrey, By them it is I meane. The one of them hight Adam Bel, The other Clym of the Clough,* 10 The thyrd was WilHam of Cloudesly, An archer good ynough. Clym pf the Clough, means Clem. [Clement] of the Cliff: for so Clough signifies in the North. 156 ADAM BELL, They were outlawed for venyson, These yemen everych-one ; They swore them brethren upon a day, 15 To Englyshe wood for to gone. Now Hth^ and lysten, gentylmen, That of myrthes loveth to here : Two of them were single men, The third had a wedded fere.^ 20 Wyllyam was the wedded man, Muche more then was hys care : He sayde to hys brethren upon a day, To Carleile he would fare ; For to speke with fayre Alyce his wife, 25 And with hys chyldren thre. By my trouth, sayde Adam Bel, Not by the counsell of me : For if ye go to Carlile, brother. And from thys wylde wode wende,^ 30 If that the justice may you take. Your lyfe were at an ende. If that I come not to-morowe, brother, By pryme^ to you agayne, Truste you then that I am ' taken,' 35 Or else that I am slayne. He toke hys leave of hys brethren two, And to Carlile he is gon : There he knocked at his owne windowe Shortlye and anone. 40 Ver. 24. Caerlel, in PC. passim. V. 35. take, PC. tanc, MS. [' attend. ^ companion or wife. ^ from this wild wood depart. "* six o'clock in the morning.] - CLYM OF THE C LOUGH. ETC. 157 Wher be you, fayre Alyce, he sayd, INIy wife and chyldren three ? Lyghtly let in thyne owne husbande, Wyllyam of Cloudeslee. Alas ! then sayde fayre Alyce, 45 And syghed wonderous sore, Thys place hath ben besette for you Thys halfe a yere and more. Now am I here, sayde Cloudeslee, I would that in I were. 50 Now fetche us meate and drynke ynoughe, And let us make good chere. She fetched hym meate and drynke plentye, Lyke a true wedded wyfe ; And pleased hym with that she had, 55 Whome she loved as her lyfe. There lay an old wyfe in that place, A lytle besyde the fyre, W'hych Wyllyam had found of charytye More than seven yere. 60 Up she rose, and forth shee goes, Evill mote^ shee speede therfore ; For shee had sett no foote on ground In seven yere before. She went unto the justice hall, 65 As fast as she could hye : Thys night, shee sayd, is come to town \\'}llyam of Cloudeslye, Thereof the justice was full fayne,* And so was the shirife also : 70 [' might. '^ glad.] 158 ADAM BELL, Thou shalt not trauaile hither, dame, for nought. Thy meed thou shalt have ere thou go. They gave to her a ryght good goune, Of scarlate, ' and of graine ' : She toke the gyft, and home she wente, 7.5 And couched her doune agayne. They raysed the towne of mery Carleile In all the haste they can ; And came thronging to Wyllyames house, As fast as they might gone. 80 There they besette that good yeman Round about on every syde : Wyllyam hearde great noyse of folkes. That thither-ward fast hyed. Alyce opened a backe wyndowe, 85 And loked all aboute. She was ware of the justice and shirife bothe, Wyth a full great route. ^ Alas ! treason, cryed Alyce, Ever wo may thou be ! 90 Goe into my chamber, my husband, she sayd, Swete Wyllyam of Cloudeslee. He toke hys sword and hys bucler, Hys bow and hys chyldren thre. And wente into hys strongest chamber, 95 Where he thought surest to be. Fayre Alyce, like a lover true. Took a pollaxe in her hande : Said, He shall dye that cometh in Thys dore, whyle I may stand. 100 Ver. 85. sic MS. shop window, PC. \} company.] CLYM OF THE C LOUGH, ETC. 159 Cloudeslee bente a right good bowe, That was of a trusty tre, He smot the justise on the brest, That hys arowe burst in three. 'A' curse on his harte, saide WilHam, 105 Thys day thy cote dyd on ! If it had ben no better then myne, It had gone nere thy bone. Yelde the Cloudesle, sayd the justise, And thy bowe and thy arrowes the fro." no ' A ' curse on hys hart, sayd fair Alyce, That my husband councclleth so. Set fyre on the house, saide the sherife, Syth it wyll no better be, And brenne'^ we therin William, he saide, 115 Hys wyfe and chyldren thre. They fyred the house in many a place, The fyre flew up on hye : Alas ! then cryed fayre Ahce, I se we here shall dye. 120 William openyd a backe wyndow, That was in hys chamber hie. And there with sheetes he did let downe His wyfe and children three. Have you here my treasure, sayde William, 125 My wyfe and my chyldren thre : For Christes love do them no harme, But wreke you all on me. Wyll)am shot so wonderous well, Tyll hys arrowes were all agoe, 130 [^ from thee. ^ burn.] i6o ADAM BELL, And the fyre so fast upon hym fell, That hys bowstryng brent ^ in two. The sparkles brent and fell upon Good Wyllyam of Cloudesle : Than was he a wofull man, and sayde, 135 Thys is a cowardes death to me. Leever'^ had I, sayde Wyllyam, With my sworde in the route to renne,"^ Then here among myne enemyes wode* Thus cruelly to bren. 140 He toke hys sword and hys buckler, And among them all he ran. Where the people were most in prece,^ He smot downe many a man. There myght no man abyde hys stroakes, 145 So fersly^ on them he ran : Then they threw wyndowes, and dores on him, And so toke that good yeman. There they hym bounde both hand and fote. And in a deepe dungeon him cast : 150 Now Cloudesle, sayd the justice, Thou shalt be hanged in hast. ' A payre of new gallowes, sayd the sherife, Now shal I for thee make ; ' And the gates of Carleil shal be shutte : 155 No man shal come in therat. Then shall not helpe Clym of the Cloughe, Nor yet shall Adam Bell, Ver, 151. Sic MS. hye Justice, PC. V. 153, 4, are contracted from the folio MS. and PC. [^ burnt. 2 sooner. ^ in the crowd to run. "^ wild. ^ in a crowd. " fiercely.] CLYM OF THE C LOUGH, ETC. i6i Though they came with a thousand mo, Nor all the devels in hell. 160 Early in the mornynge the justice uprose, To the o-ates first can he irone, And commaunded to be shut full close Lightile^ evcrych-one. Then went he to the markett place, 165 As fast as he coulde hye ; There a payre of new gallowes he set up Besyde the pyllorye. A lytle boy ' among them asked,' What meaned that gallow-tre ? 170 They sayde to hange a good yeman, Called Wyllyam of Cloudesle. That lytle boye was the towne swyne-heard, And kept fayre Alyces swyne ; Oft he had seene William in the wodde, 175 And geuen hym there to dyne. He went out att a crevis of the wall, » And lightly to the woode dyd gone ; There met he with these wightye'^ yemen Shortly and anone. ISO Alas ! then sayde the lytle boye, Ye tary here all too longe ; Cloudeslee is taken, and dampned^ to death. And readye for to honge.^ Alas ! then sayd good Adam Bell, 185 That ever we saw thys daye ! He had better have tarryed with us, So ofte as we dyd hym praye, Ver. 179. yonge men, PC. [} quickly. ^ lusty. '' condemned. ' Jibing-] M i62 ADAM BELL, He myght have dwelt in grene foreste, Under the shadowes greene, 190 And have kepte both hym and us att reste, Out of all trouble and teene.^ Adam bent a ryght good bow, A great hart sone hee had slayne : Take that, chylde, he sayde, to thy dynner, 19s And bryng me myne arrowe agayne. Now go we hence, sayed these wightye yeomen, Tarry we no longer here ; We shall hym borowe*^ by God his grace, Though we buy itt full dere. 200 ( To Caerleil wente these bold yemen, All in a mornyng of maye. Here is a fyt of Cloudeslye, And another is for to saye. PART THE SECOND. ND when they came to mery Carleile, All in * the' mornyng tyde, They founde the gates shut them untyll About on every syde. Alas ! then sayd good Adam Bell, That ever we were made men ! These gates be shut so wonderous fast, We may not come therein. Ver. 190. sic MS. shadowes sheene, PC. V. ig"]. Jolly yeomen, MS. zvight yong juen, PC. [' vexation. ^ redeem. ^ unto.] CLYM OF THE C LOUGH, ETC. i6 Then bespake him Clym of the Clough, Wyth a wyle we wyl us in bryng ; lo Let us saye we be messengers, Streyght come nowe from our king. Adam said, I have a letter written, Now let us wysely werke, We wyl saye we have the kynges seale ; i s I holde the porter no clerke. ) Then Adam Bell bete on the orates With strokes Q^reat and stronore : The porter marvelled, who was therat, And to the gates he thronge.^ 20 Who is there now, sayde the porter, That maketh all thys knockinge ? We be tow messengers, quoth Clim of the Clough, Be come ryght from our kyng. We have a letter, sayd Adam Bel, 25 To the justice we must itt bryng; Let us in our message to do. That we were agayne to the kyng. Here commeth none in, sayd the porter, By hym that dyed on a tre, 30 Tyll a false thefe be hanged. Called Wyllyam of Cloudesle. Then spake the good yeman Clym of the Clough, And swore by Mary fre. And if that we stande long wythout, 35 Lyke a thefe hanged shalt thou be. Lo ! here we have the kynges seale : What, Lurden,'^ art thou wode V Ver. 38. Lordeyne, PC. [' hastened. ^ sluggard or stupid fellow. •* mad.] i64 ADAM BELL, The porter went* it had ben so, And lyghtly dyd off hys hode/ 40 Welcome is my lordes seale, he saide ; For that ye shall come in. He opened the gate full shortlye : / An euyl openyng for him. Now are we in, sayde Adam Bell, 45 Wherof we are full faine f But Christ he knowes, that harowed^ hell. How we shall com out agayne. Had we the keys, said Clim of the Clough, Ryght wel then shoulde we spede, 50 Then might we come out wel ynough When we se tyme and nede. They called the porter to counsell, And wrang his necke in two, And caste hym in a depe dungeon, 55 And toke hys keys hym fro. Now am I porter, sayd Adam Bel, Se brother the keys are here. The worst porter to merry Carleile That ' the' had thys hundred yere. 60 And now wyll we our bowes bend. Into the towne wyll we go, For to delyuer our dere brother, That lyeth in care and wo. * i. e. weened, thought (which last is the reading of the folio MS.) Calais, or Rouen was taken from the English by showing the governor, who could not read, a letter with the king's seal, which was all he looked at. \} doffed his hood. ^ glad. ^ despoiled.] CLYM OF THE CLOUGH, ETC. 165 Then they bent theyr g-ood ewe bowes, 65 And loked the}T stringes were round,"'^ The markett place in mery Carleile They beset thatstound/ And, as they loked them besyde, A paire of new galowes ' they' see, 70 And the justice with a quest ■^ of squyers, That judged William hanged to be. And Cloudesle lay redy there in a cart, Fast bound both fote and hand ; And a stronge rop about hys necke, 75 All readye for to hange. The justice called to him a ladde, Cloudeslees clothes hee shold have, To take the measure of that yeman, Therafter to make hys grave. 80 I have sene as great mervaile, said Cloudesle, As betweyne thys and pryme. He that maketh a grave for mee, Hymselfe may lye therin. Thou speakest proudlye, said the justice, 85 I will thee hange with my hande. Full wel herd this his brethren two, There styll as they dyd stande. Then Cloudesle cast his eyen asyde, And saw hys ' brethren twaine' 90 At a corner of the market place, Redy the justice for to slaine. * So Ascham in his Toxophilus gives a precept ; " The Stringe must be rounde" (p. 149- Ed. 1761) : otherwise, we may conclude from mechanical principles, the Arrow will not fly true. [' hour. 2 imjuest.] i66 ADAM BELL, I se comfort, sayd Cloudesle, Yet hope I well to fare, If I might have my handes at wyll 95 Ryght lytle wolde I care. Then spake good Adam Bell To Clym of the Clough so free, Brother, se you marke the justyce wel ; Lo ! yonder you may him se : 100 And at the shyrife shote I wyll Strongly wyth an arrowe kene ; A better shote in mery Carleile Thys seven yere was not sene. They loosed their arrowes both at once, 105 Of no man had they dread ; The one hyt the justice, the other the sheryfe, That both theyr sides gan blede. All men voyded,^ that them stode nye. When the justice fell to the grounde, no And the sherife nye hym by ; Eyther had his deathes wounde. All the citezens fast gan flye. They durst no longer abyde : There lyghtly they losed Cloudeslee, 115 Where he with ropes lay tyde. Wyllyam start to an officer of the towne, Hys axe ' from' hys hand he wronge, On eche syde he smote them downe, Hee thought he taryed to long. 120 Wyllyam sayde to hys brethren two, Thys daye let us lyve and die, Ver. 105. loivsed thre, PC. V. 108. can bled, MS. [' went off.] CLVJ/ OF THE CLOUGH, ETC. 167 If ever you have nede, as I have now, The same shall you finde by me. They shot so well in that tyde, 125 Theyr stringes were of silke ful sure, That they kept the stretes on every side ; That batayle did long endure. They fought together as brethren true, Lyke hardy men and bolde, 130 Many a man to the ground they threw, And many a herte made colde. But when their arrowes were all gon, Men preced ^ to them full fast. They drew theyr swordes then anone, 135 And theyr bowes from them cast. They went lyghtlye on theyr way, Wyth swordes and buclers round ; By that it was mydd of the day, They made many a wound. 140 There was an out-horne* in Carleil blowen. And the belles backward dyd ryng. Many a woman sayde, Alas ! And many theyr handes dyd wryng. The mayre of Carleile forth com was, 145 Wyth hym a ful great route :^ These yemen dred hym full sore. Of theyr lyves they stode in great doute.^ * Outhorne, is an old term signifying the calling forth of subjects to arms by the sound of a horn. See Cole's Lat. Diet., Bailey, &c. [Perhaps " a nouthome," or neat's horn, from nowt, cattle.] Vcr. 148. For of, MS. [' pressed. '^ company. -^ fear.] i68 ADAM BELL, The mayre came armed a full great pace, With a poUaxe in hys hande ; 150 Many a strong man wyth him was, There in that stowre^ to stande. The mayre smot at Cloudeslee with his bil,^ Hys bucler he brast^ in two. Full many a yeman with great evyll, 155 Alas ! Treason they cryed for wo. Kepe well the gates fast, they bad. That these traytours therout not go. But al for nought was that they wrought. For so fast they downe were layde, 160 Tyll they all thre, that so manfulli fought, I Were gotten without, abraide."* Have here your keys, sayd Adam Bel, Myne office I here forsake. And yf you do by my counsel! 165 A new porter do ye make. He threw theyr keys at theyr heads. And bad them well to thryve,* And all that letteth any good yeman To come and comfort his wyfe. 170 Thus be these good yeman gon to the wod As lyghtly, as lefe on lynde ; ^ The lough and be mery in theyr mode, Theyr enemyes were ferr behynd. When they came to Englyshe wode, 175 Under the trusty tre, * "^his is spoken ironically. Ver. 175. merry green wood, MS. \} fight. ^ pike or halbert. ' burst. ^ abroad. ^ lime tree.] CLVM OF THE C LOUGH, ETC. 169 There they found bowes full good, And arrowes full great plentye. So God me help, sayd Adam Bell, And Clym of the Clough so fre, 180 I would we were in mery Carleile, Before that fayre meynye/ They set them downe, and made good chere, And eate and dranke full well. A second fyt of the wightye yeomen : 185 Another I wyll you tell. PART THE THIRD. S they sat in Englyshe wood, Under the grecn-wode tre. They thought they herd a woman wepe. But her they mought^ not se. Sore then syghed the fayre Alyce : 5 ' That ever I sawe thys day !' For nowe is my dere husband slayne : Alas ! and wel-a-way ! Myght I have spoken wyth hys dere brethren. Or with eyther of them twayne, 10 To show them what him befell, ]\Iy hart were out of payne. Cloudesle walked a lytle beside, He looked under the grene wood lynde. Vcr. 185. see Parti, ver. 197. \} company. ' might.] I70 ADAM BELL, He was ware of his wife, and cliyldren three, 15 Full wo in harte and mynde. / Welcome, wyfe, then sayde Wyllyam, Under ' this' trusti tre : I had wende^ yesterday, by swete saynt John, Thou sholdest me never * have' se. 20 " Now well is me that ye be here, My harte is out of wo." Dame, he sayde, be mery and glad. And thanke my brethren two. Herof to speake, said Adam Bell, as I -wis it is no bote : / The meate, that we must supp withall. It runneth yet fast on fote. Then went they downe into a launde,^ These noble archares all thre ; 30 Eche of them slew a hart of greece,' The best that they cold se. Have here the best, Alyce, my wyfe, Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudeslye ; By cause ye so bouldly stode by me 35 When I was slayne full nye. Then went they to suppere Wyth suche meate as they had ; And thanked God of ther fortune : They were both mery and glad. 40 And when they had supped well, Certayne withouten lease,^ / Cloudesle sayd, We wyll to our kyng, V To get us a charter of peace. Ver. 20. never had se, PC. and MS. [' thought. ^ clear space in a forest. ■'' fat hart. ■* without lying.] CLYM OF THE C LOUGH, ETC. 171 Alyce shal be at our sojournyng 4.5 In a nunnery here besyde ; My tow sonnes shall wyth her go, And there they shall abyde. Myne eldest son shall go wyth me ; For hym have 'you' no care : 50 And he shall bring you worde agayn, How that we do fare. Thus be these yemen to London gone, As fast as they myght ' he,'* Tyll they came to the kynges pallace, 55 Where they woulde nedes be. And whan they came to the kynges courte, Unto the pallace gate, Of no man wold they aske no leave, But boldly went in therat. 60 They preced prestly^ into the hall, s Of no man had they dreade : The porter came after, and dyd them call. And with them began to chyde. The usher sayde, Yemen, what wold ye have ? 65 I pray you tell to me : You myght thus make offycers shent:* Good syrs, of whence be ye ? Syr, we be out-lawes of the forest Ccrtayne withouten lease ; 70 And hether we be come to the kyng, To get us a charter of peace. And whan they came before the kyng, As it was the lawe of the lande, Ver. 50. have I no care, PC. * i.e. hie, hasten. [' pressed (juickly. ' blamed.] 172 ADAM BELL, The kneled downe without lettyng, 75 And eche held up his hand. The sayed, Lord, we beseche the here, That ye wyll graunt us grace ; For we have slayne your fat falow dere In many a sondry place. 80 What be your nams, then said our king, Anone that you tell me ? They sayd, Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough, And Wyllyam of Cloudesle. Be ye those theves, then sayd our kyng, 85 That men have tolde of to me ? Here to God I make an avowe. Ye shal be hanged al thre. Ye shal be dead without mercy, As I am kynge of this lande. 90 He commanded his officers everlch-one. Fast on them to lay hande. There they toke these good yemen. And arested them al thre : So may I thryve, sayd Adam Bell, 95 Thys game lyketh not me. But, good lorde, we beseche you now, That yee graunt us grace, Insomuche as 'frely' we be to you come, ' As frely' we may fro you passe, 100 With such weapons, as we have here, Tyll we be out of your place ; And yf we lyve this hundreth yere. We wyll aske you no grace. Ye speake proudly, sayd the kynge ; 105 Ye shall be hanged all thre. CLYM OF THE C LOUGH, ETC. 173 That were great pitye, then sayd the quene, If any grace myght be. ]\Iy lorde, whan I came fyrst into this lande To be your wedded wyfe, no The fyrst boone that I wold aske, Ye would graunt it me belyfe •} And I asked you never none tyll now ; Therefore good lorde, graunt it me, Now aske it, madam, sayd the kynge, 115 And graunted it shal be. Then, good my lord, I you beseche, These yemen graunt ye me. ' Madame, ye myght have asked a boone, That shuld have been worth them all thre. 120 Ye myght have asked towres, and townes, Parkes and forestes plente. None soe pleasant to my pay,^ shee sayd ; Nor none so lefe^ to me. Madame, sith it is your desyre, 125 Your askyng graunted shal be ; But I had lever have geven you Good market townes thre. The quene was a glad woman, And sayde. Lord, gramarcy :* 130 I dare undertake for them, That true men shal they be. But good my lord, speke som mery word, That comfort they may se. I graunt you grace, then sayd our king; 135 Washe, felos, and to meate go ye. Ver. Ill, 119. sic. MS. bowne, PC. V. 130. God a tnenye, MS. [' at once. ^ satisfaction. ^ dear. "* I thank you.] 174 ADAM BELL, They had not setten but a whyle Certayne without lesynge/ There came messengers out of the north With letters to our kyng. 140 And whan the came before the kynge, They knelt downe on theyr kne ; And sayd, Lord, your officers grete you well, \ Of Carleile in the north cuntre. How fareth my justice, sayd the kyng, 14.5 And my sherife also ? Syr, they be siayne without leasynge, And many an officer mo. Who hath them siayne, sayd the kyng ; Anone that thou tell me ? 150 " Adam Bell, and Clime of the Clough, And Wyllyam of Cloudesle." Alas for rewth !^ then sayd our kynge : My hart is wonderous sore ; I had lever^ than a thousande pounde, 155 I had knowne of thys before ; For I have graunted them grace, And that forthynketh^ me : But had I knowne all thys before, They had been hanged all thre. 160 The kyng hee opened the letter anone, Himselfe he red it thro. And founde how these outlawes had slain Thre hundred men and mo : Fyrst the justice, and the sheryfe, 165 And the mayre of Carleile towne ; [' lying. 2 pity. '' rather. * vexeth.] CLYM OF THE C LOUGH, ETC. 175 Of all the constables and catchlpolles Alyve were 'scant' left one : The baylyes, and the bedyls both, And the sergeauntes of the law, 170 And forty fosters of the fe,^ These outlawes had yslaw :' And broke his parks, and slayne his dere ; Of all they chose the best ; So perelous out-lawes, as they were, 175 Walked not by easte nor west. When the kynge this letter had red, In hys harte he syghed sore : Take up the tables anone he bad, For I may eat no more. 180 The kyng called hys best archars To the buttes wyth hym to go : I wyll se these felowes shote, he sayd, In the north have wrouo^ht this wo. The kynges bowmen buske them blyve,'' 185 And the quenes archers also ; So dyd these thre wyghtye yemen ; With them they thought to go. There twyse, or thryse they shote about For to assay theyr hande ; 190 There was no shote these yemen shot, That any prycke* myght stand. Then spake Wyllyam of Cloudesle ; By him that for me dyed, Ver. 168. left but one, MS. not om\ PC V. 185. blythc, MS. * i.e. mark. [^ foresters of the king's demesnes. ^ slain. •' get them ready insUmtly.J 176 ADAM BELL, I hold hym never no good archar, 195 That shoteth at buttes so wyde. * At what a butte now wold ye shote,' I pray thee tell to me ? At suche a but, syr, he sayd, As men use in my countree. 200 Wyllyam wente into a fyeld, And ' with him' his two brethren : There they set up two hasell roddes^ '. Twenty score paces betwene. I hold him an archar, said Cloudesle, 205 That yonder wande cleveth in two. Here is none suche, sayd the kyng. Nor no man can so do. I shall assaye, syr, sayd Cloudesle, Or that I farther gro. 210 Cloudesly with a bearyng arowe^ Clave the wand in two. Thou art the best archer, then said the king, Forsothe that ever I se. And yet for your love, sayd Wyllyam, 215 I wyll do more maystery.^ I have a sonne is seven yere olde, / He is to me full deare ; \ I wyll hym tye to a stake ; All shall se, that be here ; 220 And lay an apple upon hys head, And go syxe score paces hym fro, Ver. 202, 203, 212. to, PC. V. 204. i.e. 400 yards. V. 208. sic MS. none that can, PC. V. 222. i.e. 120 yards. \} hazel rods. "^ an arrow that carries well. ^ tj-ial of skill.] CLYM OF THE C LOUGH, ETC. 177 And I my selfe with a brode arow ' Shall cleve the apple in two. Now haste the, then sayd the kyng, By hym that dyed on a tre, But yf thou do not, as thou hest sayde, Handed shalt thou be. t> 22c And thou touche his head or gowne, In fyght that men may se, 230 By all the sayntes that be in heaven, I shall hange you all thre. That I have promised, said William, That I wyll never forsake. And there even before the kynge 235 In the earth he drove a stake : And bound thereto his eldest sonne, And bad hym stand styll thereat ; And turned the childes face him fro, Because he should not start. 24.0 An apple upon his head he set, And then his bowe he bent: Syxe score paces they were meaten, And thether Cloudesle went. There he drew out a fayr brode arrowe, 2+5 Hys bowe was great and longe, He set that arrowe in his bowe. That was both styffe and stronge. He prayed the people, that wer there. That they ' all still wold ' stand, 250 For he that shoteth for such a wager, Bchovcth a stedfast hand. Vcr. 243. sic, MS. out met, PC. V. 252. steedyc, MS. N 178 ADAM BELL, Muche people prayed for Cloudesle, That his lyfe saved myght be, And whan he made hym redy to shote, 255 There was many weeping ee. ' But ' Cloudesle clefte the apple in two, * His Sonne he did not nee.' ^ Over Gods forbode, sayde the kinge, That thou shold shote at me. a6o I geve thee eightene pence a day, ^ And my bo we shalt thou bere, ( And over all the north countre V I make the chyfe rydere.^ And I thyrtene pence a day, said the quene, 265 By God, and by my fay ; * Come feche thy payment when thou wylt, No man shall say the nay. Wyllyam, I make the a gentleman Of clothyng, and of fe : 270 And thy two brethren, yemen of my chambre, For they are so semely to se. Your Sonne, for he is tendre of age, Of my wyne-seller he shall be ; And when he commeth to mans estate, 275 Better avaunced shall he be. And, Wyllyam,bring me your wife, said the quene. Me longeth her sore to se : She shall be my chefe gentlewoman. To governe my nurserye. 280 The yemen thanked them all curteously. To some byshop wyl we wend, Ver. 265. And I geve the xvij pence, PC. V. 282. And say d to some Bishopp wee will wend, MS. [^ nigh. 2 ranger. ^ faith.] CLYM OF THE C LOUGH, ETC. 179 Of all the synnes, that we have done, To be assoyld^ at his hand. So forth be gone these good yemen, 285 As fast as they might ' he * ' ; And after came and dwelled with the kynge, And dyed good men all thre. Thus endeth the lives of these good yemen ; God send them eternall blysse; 290 And all, that with a hand-bowe shoteth : That of heven may never mysse. Amen. II. THE AGED LOVER RENOUNCETH LOVE. 'he Grave-digger's song in Hamlet, act v. is taken from three stanzas of the following poem, though greatly altered and disguised, as the same were corrupted by the ballad-singers of Shakespeare's time ; or perhaps so de- signed by the poet himself, the better to suit the character of an illi- terate clown. The original is preserved among Surrey's Poems, and is attributed to Lord Vaux, by George Gascoigne, who tells us, it "was thought by some to be made upon his death-bed j" a popular error which he laughs at. (See his Epist. to Yong Gent, prefixed to his Posies, 1575, 4to.) It is also ascribed to Lord Vaux in a manuscript copy preserved in the British Museum.f This Lord * /le, i.e. hie, hasten. t Harl. .\LSS. num. 1703, § 25. [Called in that MS. ''The Image of Death:' There is another copy in the Ashmolean Library (MS. Ashm. No. 48.)] The readings gathered from that cojjy arc distinguished here by inverted commas. The text is printed from the " Songs, c^c. of the Earl of Surrey and others, 1557, 4to." \} absolved.] i8o THE AGED LOVER was remarkable for his skill in drawing feigned manners, &c. for so I understand an ancient writer. " The Lord Vaux his com- mendation lyeth chiefly in the facilitie of his meetre, and the apt- nesse of his descriptions such as he taketh upon him to make, namely in sundry of his Songs, wherein he showeth the coimterfait axtion very lively and pleasantly." Arte of Eng. Poesie, 1589, p. 51. See another Song by this Poet in vol. ii. No. viii. [Thomas second Lord Vaux, the author of this poem, was born in the year 15 10. He wrote several small pieces of the same character which evince taste and feeling, and his contributions to the Paradise of Dainty Devices exceed in number those of Richard Edwards himself, whose name appears upon the original title-page as the chief author. Lord Vaux was a courtier as well as a poet, and was one of the splendid retinue which attended Wolsey in his embassy, in the 19th Henry VIIL, 1527, to the Court of France to negotiate a peace. He took his seat in the House of Lords in the 22nd Henry VIH., and two years afterwards, 1532, waited on the king to Calais and thence to Boulogne. He was rewarded with the Order of the Bath at the Coronation of Anne Boleyn, and was also appointed Captain of the Island of Jersey, which office he surrendered in the 28th Henry VIIL] LOTH that I did love, In youth that I thought swete, As time requires : for my behove ^ Me thinkes they are not mete.^ My lustes they do me leave, 5 My fansies all are fled ; And tract of time begins to weave Gray heares upon my hed. For Age with steling steps, Hath clawde me with his crowch,^ 10 Ver. 6. he, PC. (printed copy in 1557.) V. 10. Croivch perhaps should be clouch, clutch, grasp. [^ behoof 2 meet or fit. ^ crutch.] RENOUNCETH LOVE. i8i And lusty ' Youthe ' awaye he leapes, As there had bene none such. My muse doth not delight Me, as she did before : My hand and pen are not in plight, 15 As they have bene of yore. For Reason me denies, * All ' youthly idle rime ; And day by day to me she cries, Leave off these toyes in tyme. 20 The wrinkles in my brow, The furrowes in my face Say. Limping age will ' lodge ' him now. Where youth must geve him place. The harbenger of death, 25 To me I se him ride. The cough, the cold, the gasping breath, Doth bid me to provide A pikeax and a spade. And eke a shrowding shete, 30 A house of clay for to be made For such a guest most mete. Me thinkes I heare the clarke. That knoles the carefull knell ; And bids me leave my ' wearye ' warke, 35 Ere nature me compell. My kepers * knit the knot, Tluit youth doth laugh to scorne. Ver. II. Life away she, PC, V. 18. This, PC. V. 23. So Ed. 1583 'tis hed^e in Ed. 1557. hath cam^hi him, MS. V. 30. 7C'y/id- yn^e-sheek, MS. V. 34. bell, MS. V. 35. wofull, PC. V. 38. did, PC. * Alluding perhaps to Eccles. xii. 3. i82 JEPHTHAH JUDGE Of me that ' shall bee cleane ' forgot, As I had ' ne'er ' bene borne. 40 Thus must I youth geve up, Whose badge I long did weare : To them I yeld the wanton cup, That better may it beare. Lo here the bared skull ; 45 By whose balde signe I know, That stouping age away shall pull * What ' youthful yeres did sow. For Beautie with her band. These croked cares had wrought, 50 And shipped me into the land, From whence I first was brought. And ye that bide behinde. Have ye none other trust : As ye of claye were cast by kinde, • 55 So shall ye ' turne ' to dust. III. JEPHTHAH JUDGE OF ISRAEL. ^N Shakespeare's Hamlet, act ii. the hero of the play takes occasion to banter Polonius with some scraps of an old Ballad, which has never appeared yet in any collection : for which reason, as it is but short, it will not perhaps be unacceptable to the reader; who will also be diverted with the pleasant absurdities of the composition. It was retrieved from Ver. 39. cle?ie shal be, PC. V. 40. not, PC. V. 45. bare-hedde, MS. and some PCC. V. 48. Which, PC. That, MS. What is conject. V. 56. wast, PC. OF ISRAEL. 183 utter oblivion by a lady, who A\TOte it down from memory as she had formerly heard it sung by her father. I am indebted for it to the friendship of jMr. Stcrans. It has been said, that the original Ballad, in black-letter, is among Anthony a Wood's Collections in the Ashmolean Museum. But, upon application lately made, the volume which contained this Song was missing, so that it can only now be given as in the former Edition. The Banter of Hamlet is as follows : " Hamld. ' O Jeptha, Judge of Israel,' what a treasure hadst thou? Polonius. "What a treasure had he, my Lord ? Ham. Why, ' One faire daughter, and no more, the which he loved passing well.' Polon. Still on my daughter. Ham. Am not I i' th' right, old Jeptha ? Polon. If you call me Jeptha, my Lord, I have a daughter, that I love passing well. Ham. Nay, that follows not. Polon. ^^^•lat follows then, my Lord ? Ham. Why, 'As by lot, God wot :' and then you know, 'It came to passe, As most like it was.' The first row of the pious chanson will shew you more." — Act ii. sc. 2. [A more perfect copy of this ballad was reprinted by Evans in his Collection of Old Ballads from a black-letter broadside, and is included by Child in his Collection of English and Scottish Balloiis (vol. viii. p. 198). The wording is rather different in the two versions, and Evans's has tAvo additional stanzas. It does not appear that anything is left out at line 18 of Percy's version, but in place of the stars at line 41 Evans's copy reads — " A sacrifice to God on high ; INIy promise must be finished."] AVE you not heard these many years ago Jeptha was judij^e of Israel ? Me had one only daui^hter and no mo. The which he loved passing well : i84 JEPHTHAH JUDGE And, as by lott, 5 God wot, It so came to pass, As Gods will was, That ereat wars there should be. And none should be chosen chief but he. lo And when he was appointed judge, And chieftain of the company, A solemn vow to God he made ; If he returned with victory, At his return 15 To burn The first live thing, He * * * * That should meet with him then, Off his house, when he should return agen. 20 It came to pass, the wars was oer, And he returned with victory ; His dear and only daughter first of all Came to meet her father foremostly : And all the way a; She did play On tabret and pipe. Full many a stripe. With note so high, For joy that her father is come so nigh. 30 But when he saw his daughter dear Coming on most foremostly, He wrung his hands, and tore his hair, And cryed out most piteously ; Oh ! it's thou, said he, 35 That have brought me Low, And troubled me so. That I know not what to do. OF ISRAEL. 185 For I have made a vow, he sed, The which must be replenished: 40 ****** " What thou hast spoke Do not revoke : What thou hast said, Be not aftraid ; 4S Altho' it be I ; Keep promises to God on high. But, dear father, grant me one request, That I may go to the wilderness, Three months there with my friends to stay ; 50 There to bewail my virginity; And let there be. Said she, Some two or three Young maids with me." 55 So he sent her away, For to mourn, for to mourn, till her dying day. IV. A ROBYN JOLLY ROBYN. N his Twelfth Ni^ht, Shakespeare introduces the clown singing part of the two first stanzas of the following Song,^ which has been recovered from an antient MS. of Dr. Harrington's at Bath, preserved among the many literary treasures transmitted to the ingenious and worthy possessor by a long line of most respectable ancestors. Of these only a small part hath been printed in the Nugcc Antiqiice, 3 vols. i2mo; a work which the publick impatiently wishes to see continued. The song is thus given by Shakespeare, act iv. sc. 2 : — " Clown. ' Hey Robin, jolly Robin, [singing.] Tell me how thy lady does.' Malvolio. Fool i86 A ROBYN, JOLLY ROBYN. Clown. '■ My lady is unkind, perdy.' Malvolio. Fool Clown. ' Alas, why is she so ? ' Malvolio. Fool, I say Clown. ' She loves another.' — Who calls, ha ? " Dr. Farmer has conjectured that the song should begin thus : " Hey, jolly Robin, tell to me How does thy lady do ? My lady is unkind perdy — Alas, why is she so ? " But this ingenious emendation is now superseded by the proper readings of the old song itself, which is here printed from what ap- pears the most ancient of Dr. Harrington's poetical MSS.and which has, therefore, been marked No. I. (Soil. p. 68.) That volume seems to have been written in the reign of King Henry VIII. and, as it contains many of the Poems of Sir Thomas Wyat, hath had almost all the contents attributed to him by marginal directions written with an old but later hand, and not always rightly, as, I think, might be made appear by other good authorities. Among the rest this song is there attributed to Sir Thomas Wyat also ; but the discerning reader will probably judge it to belong to a more obsolete writer. In the old MS. to the 3rd and 5th stanzas is prefixed this title, Responce, and to the 4th and 6th, Le Plaintif; but in the last in- stance so evidently wrong, that it was thought better to omit these titles, and to mark the changes of the Dialogue by inverted commas. In other respects the MS. is strictly followed, except where noted in the margin. — Yet the first stanza appears to be defective, and it should seem that a line is wanting, unless the four first words were lengthened in the tune. ROBYN, Joliy Robyn, Tell me how thy leman^ doeth, And thou shalt knowe of myn. ' My lady is unkynde perde.'^ Alack ! why is she so ? Ver. 4. shall, MS. \} mistress. ^ verily.] A ROBViV, JOLLY ROBYN. 187 ' She loveth an other better than me ; And yet she will say no,' I fynde no such doublenes : I fynde women true. 10 My lady loveth me dowtles, And will chano^e for no newe. 'Thou art happy while that doeth last; But I say, as I fynde, That women's love is but a blast, 15 And torneth with the wynde.' Suche folkes can take no harme by love, That can abide their torn.^ ' But I alas can no way prove In love but lake and morn.' 20 But if thou wilt avoyde thy harme Lerne this lessen of me, At others fieres thy selfe to warme, And let them warme with the. V. A SONG TO THE LUTE IN MUSICKE. A HIS sonncft (which is ascribed to Richard Eihuards* in ^■)P the Paradise of Daintie Dci'iscs, fo. 31, b.) is by Shake- '9^ speare made the subject of some pleasant ridicule in his <*^ Romeo andjiiiiet, act iv. sc. 5, where he introduces Peter ^. puuing this question to the musicians. " Peter . . . why 'Silver Sound?' why ' Musicke with her silver sound ? ' what say you, Simon Catling ? I . Afus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. * Concerning him see \Vood's Athcn. Oxon. and Tanner's Pib- lioth. also Sir John Hawkins's Hist, of Music, &'C. [' turn.] i88 A SONG TO THE LUTE Pet. Pretty ! what say you, Hugh Rebecke ? 2. Mt(s. I say, silver sound, because musicians sound for silver. Pet. Pretty too ! what say you, James Sound-post. 3. Mus. Faith, I know not what to say. Fef. ... I will say for you : It is ' Musicke with her silver sound,' because musicians have no gold for sounding." This ridicule is not so much levelled at the song itself (which for the time it was written is not inelegant) as at those forced and un- natural explanations often given by us painful editors and expositors of ancient authors. This copy is printed from an old quarto MS. in the Cotton Library (Vesp. A. 25), intitled, " Divers things of Hen. viij's time :" with some corrections from The Paradise of Dainty Devises, 1596. [Richard Edwards, one of the chief contributors to the Paradise of Dainty Devises, was a facile and elegant poet much appreciated by his contemporaries but unjustly neglected now. Meres in his Wits Treasmy, 1598, praises him, as "one of the best for comedy," and Puttenham gives him the same commendation. Thomas Twyne and George Turberville, wrote epitaphs upon him, and the latter says in the terms of unmeasured eulogy then fashionable — " From Plautus he the palme and learned Terence won." Edwards was born in Somersetshire about 1523, was educated at Oxford, and, in 1561, was constituted by Queen Elizabeth a Gentleman of the Royal Chapel and Master of the Singing Boys there. He attended the Queen on her visit to Oxford in 1566, and was employed to compose a play called Pala7non and Arcite, which was acted before her Majesty in Christ Church Hall.] -HERE gripinge grefes the hart would wounde, And dolefulle dumps ^ the mynde op- presse. There musicke with her silver sound With spede is wont to send redresse : Of trobled mynds, in every sore, 5 | Swete musicke hathe a salve in store. [^ sorrowful gloom.] IN MUSICKE. 189 In joye yt maks our mirthe abounde, In woe yt cheres our hevy sprites ; Be-strawghted^ heads relyef hath founde, By musickes pleasaunt swete deHghtes : 10 Our senses all, what shall I say more ? Are subjecte unto musicks lore. The Gods by muslcke have theire prayse ; The lyfe, the soul therein doth joye : For, as the Romayne poet sayes, is In seas, whom pyrats would destroy, A dolphin saved from death most sharpe Arion playing on his harpe. O heavenly g}'ft, that rules the mynd. Even as the sterne dothe rule the shippe ! 20 O musicke, whom the gods assinde To comforte manne, whom cares would nippe ! Since thow both man and beste doest move, What beste ys he, wyll the"^ disprove ? VI. KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR- MAID S a story often alluded to by our old Dramatic Writers. .Shakespeare, in his Romeo and Julid, act ii. sc. i, makes Mercutio say, " Her (Venus's) ])urblind son and heir, Young Adam* Cupid, he that shot so true. When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid." • See above. Preface to Song I. IJook II. of this vol. [' distracted. '■* what beast is he, will thee.] I90 KING COPHETUA AND As the 13th line of the following ballad seems here particularly alluded to, it is not improbable but Shakespeare wrote it shot so trim, which the players or printers, not perceiving the allusion, might - alter to true. The former, as being the more humorous expression, seems most likely to have come from the mouth of Mercutio.* In the 2d Part of Hen. IV. A. 5, Sc. 3, Falstaff is introduced affectedly saying to Pistoll, " O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news ? Let king Cophetua know the truth thereof." These lines, Dr. Warburton thinks, were taken from an old bombast play of King Cophetua. No such play is, I believe, now to be found ; but it does not therefore follow that it never existed. Many dramatic pieces are referred to by old writers,! which are not now extant, or even mentioned in any list. In the infancy of the stage, plays were often exhibited that were never printed. It is probably in allusion to the same play that Ben Jonson says, in his Comedy of Every Man in his Humour, A. 3, Sc. 4 : " I have not the heart to devour thee, an' I might be made as rich as King Cophetua." At least there is no mention of King Cophetua's riches in the pre- sent ballad, which is the oldest I have met with on the subject. It is printed from Rich. Johnson's Crown Garlatui of Goulden Roses, 1612,1 i2mo. (where it is intitled simply A Song of a Beggar and a King .-) corrected by another copy. [In the Collection of Old Ballads, 1723 (vol. i. p. 138) there is a ballad on the same subject as the following popular one. It is en- titled " Cupid's Revenge, or an account of a king who slighted all women, and at length was constrained to marry a beggar, who proved a fair and virtuous queen."] * Since this conjecture first occurred, it has been discovered that shot so trim was the genuine reading. t See Meres Wits Trcas. i. 283 ; Arte of Eng. Foes. 1589, p. 51, III, 143, 169. [J Reprinted by the Percy Society in the sixth volume of their publications,] THE BEGGAR-MAID. 191 READ that once in Affrica A princely wight ^ did raine, Who had to name Cophetua, As poets they did faine: From natures lawes he did decHne, 5 For sure he was not of my mind, He cared not for women-kinde, But did them all disdaine. But, marke, what hapned on a day. As he out of his window lay, 10 He saw a beggar all in gray, The which dkl cause his paine. The blinded boy, that shootes so trim,^ From heaven downe did hie ; He drew a dart and shot at him, 15 In place where he did lye : Which soone did pierse him to the quicke. And when he felt the arrow pricke, Which in his tender heart did sticke. He looketh as he would dye. 20 What sudden chance is this, quoth he. That I to love must subject be, Which never thereto would agree. But still did it defie ? Then from the window he did come, 25 And laid him on his bed, A thousand heapes of care did runne Within his troubled head : For now he meanes to crave her love, And now he seekes which way to proove 30 How he his fancie might remoove, [' man. ^ exact.] 192 KING COPHETUA AND And not this beggar wed. But Cupid had him so in snare, That this poor begger must prepare A salve to cure him of his care, 35 Or els he would be dead. And, as he musing thus did lye. He thought for to devise How he might have her companye, That so did 'maze his eyes. 40 In thee, quoth he, doth rest my life ; For surely thou shalt be my wife. Or else this hand with bloody knife The Gods shall sure suffice. Then from his bed he soon arose, 45 And to his pallace gate he goes ; Full little then this begger knowes When she the king espies. The gods preserve your majesty, The beggers all gan cry : 50 Vouchsafe to give your charity Our childrens food to buy. The king to them his pursse did cast, And they to part it made great haste ; This silly woman was the last 55 That after them did hye. The king he cal'd her back againe, And unto her he gave his chaine ; And said. With us you shal remaine Till such time as we dye : 60 For thou, quoth he, shalt be my wife. And honoured for my queene ; With thee I meane to lead my life. As shortly shall be scene : Our wedding shall appointed be, 65 And every thing in its degree : Come on, quoth he, and follow me, THE BEGGAR-MAID. 193 Thou shalt ^o shift thee cleane. What is thy name, faire maid ? quoth he. Penelophon,* O king, quoth she : 70 With that she made a lowe courtsey ; A trim one as I weene. Thus hand in hand along they walke Unto the king's pallace : The king with courteous comly talke 75 This beof^er doth imbrace : 00 The becrcrer bkisheth scarlet red, And straight againe as pale as lead, But not a word at all she said, She was in such amaze. 80 At last she spake with trembling voyce, And said, O king, I doe rejoyce That you wil take me for your choyce, And my degree's so base. And when the wedding day was come, 85 The kinor commanded strait The noblemen both all and some Upon the queene to wait. And she behaved herself that day, As if she had never walkt the way ; 90 She had forgot her gowne of gray, Which she did weare of late. The proverbe old is come to passe, The priest, when he begins his masse, Forgets that ever clerke he was ; 95 He knowth not his estate. * Shakespeare (who alludes to this ballad in his Love's Labour's lost, act iv. sc. I.) gives the beggar's name Zenelophon, according to all the old editions : but this seems to be a corruption ; for Pene- lophon, in the text, sounds more like the name of a woman. — The story of the King and the Beggar is also alluded to in K. Rich. H. act V. sc. 3. Ver. 90. i.e. tramped the streets. O 194 KING COPHETUA, Here you may read, Cophetua, Though long time fancie-fed, Compelled by the blinded boy The begger for to wed : loo He that did lovers lookes disdaine, To do the same was glad and faine, Or else he would himselfe have slaine, In storie, as we read. Disdaine no whit, O lady deere, 105 But pitty now thy servant heere, Least that it hap to thee this yeare. As to that king it did. And thus they led a quiet life During their princely raigne ; no And in a tombe were buried both, As writers sheweth plaine. The lords they tooke it grievously. The ladies tooke it heavily, The commons cryed pitiously, 115 Their death to them was paine, Their fame did sound so passingly, That it did pierce the starry sky, And throughout all the world did flye To every princes realme.* 120 * An ingenious friend thinks the two last stanzas should change place. Ver. 105. Here the poet addresses himself to his mistress. V. 112. Sheweth was anciently the plur. numb. TAKE THY OLD CLOAK. 195 VII. TAKE THY OLD CLOAK ABOUT THEE, ; S supposed to have been originally a Scotch ballad. The reader here has an ancient copy in the English idiom, with an additional stanza (the 2d.) never before printed. This curiosity is preserved in the Editor's folio MS. but not without corruptions, which are here removed by the assistance of the Scottish Edit. Shakespeare, in his Othello, act ii. has quoted one stanza, with some variations, which are here adopted : the old MS. readings of that stanza are however given in the margin. [The Scottish version referred to above was printed in Ramsay's Tea Tabic Miscellany, and the king mentioned on line 49 is there named Robert instead of Stephen. He is King Harry in the folio MS. The '^ corruptions " to which Percy alludes are all noted at the foot of the page, and in one instance at least (line 15) the MS. gives an important new reading. Mr. Hales thinks that the MS. ver- sion is the oldest form of the ballad, because the definite mention of the court looks more original than the use of the general term of town, and he says, *' the poem naturally grew vaguer as it grew generally popular."* Besides the reference to this ballad in Othello mentioned by Percy above, Mr. Hales has pointed out to me another evident allusion in the Tempest, act iv. sc. i, where Trinculo says, " O King Stephano, O Peere : O worthy Stephano, Looke what a wardrobe here is for thee." (Folio 1623, Booth's ed. p. 15, col. 2.) The cloak that had been in wear for forty-four years was likely to be a sorry clout at the end of that time, but the clothes of all classes were then expected to last from year to year without renewal. Woollen cloths were of old the chief material of male and female attire. When new the nap was very long, and after being worn for some time, it was customary to have it shorn, a process which was repeated as often as the stuff would bear it. Thus we find the Countess of Leicester (Eleanor third daughter of King John, and wife of Simon de Montfort) in 1265, sending Hicque the tailor to London to get her robes re-shorn. fj f* Folio MS. ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. ii. p. 320. t Botfield's Manners and Household Expenses of England, 1 84 1 .] 196 TAKE THY OLD CLOAK ^^^^^HIS winters weather itt waxeth cold, And frost doth freese on every hill, And Boreas blowes his blasts soe bold. That all our cattell are like to spill ;^ Bell my wiffe, who loves noe strife, 5 She sayd unto me quietlye. Rise up, and save cow Crumbockes liffe, Man, put thine old cloake about thee. He. Bell, why dost thou flyte"^ ' and scorne ' ? Thou kenst my cloak is very thin : 10 Itt is soe bare and overworne A cricke^ he theron cannot renn :^ Then He noe longer borrowe nor lend, ' For once He new appareld bee. To-morrow He to towne and spend,' 15 For He have a new cloake about mee. She. Cow Crumbocke is a very good cowe, Shee ha beene alwayes true to the payle, Shee has helpt us to butter and cheese, I trow, And other things shee will not fayle ; 20 1 wold be loth to see her pine,^ Good husband, councell take of mee, It is not for us to go soe fine, Man, take thine old cloake about thee. [Ver. 9. O Bell my wiffe, why dost thou fiflyte. V. 10. itt is soe sore over worne. V. 14-15. in place of these two the MS. has " He goe fifind the court within." V. 22. Therefore good husband ffollow my councell now. V. 23. Forsake the court and follow the ploughe. ' spoil or come to harm. ^ scold. ^ insect. ^ run. ^ starve.] ABOUT THEE. 197 He. JNIy cloake it was a verry good cloake, 25 Itt hath been alwayes true to the weare. But now it is not worth a groat ; I have had it four and forty yeere : Sometime itt was of cloth in graine/ "Tis now but a sigh clout*^ as you may see, 30 It will neither hold out winde nor raine ; And He have a new cloake about mee. She. It is four and fortye yeeres agoe Since the one of us the other did ken, And we have had betwixt us towe 35 Of children either nine or ten ; Wee have brought them up to women and men ; In the feare of God I trow they bee ; And why wilt thou thyselfe misken?^ Man, take thine old cloake about thee. 4-0 He. O Bell my wiffe, why dost thou ' floute !' Now is no we, and then was then : Seeke now all the world throughout, Thou kenst not clownes from gentlemen. They are cladd in blacke, greene, yellowe, or 'gray,' 4-s Soe far above their owne degree : Once in my life He 'doe as they,' For He have a new cloake about mee. [Vcr. 27. Itt hath cost mee many a groat.] V. ^x.JIytc, MS. [V. 45. yellow and blew. V. 47. once in my life He take a vew. ' scarlet. '^ a cloth to strain milk through. ^ mistake.] 198 TAKE THY OLD CLOAK. She. King Stephen was a worthy peere, His breeches cost him but a crowne, 50 He held them sixpence all too deere ; Therefore he calld the taylor Lowne.^ He was a wight of high renowne, And thouse^ but of a low degree : Itt's pride that putts this countrye downe, 55 Man, take thine old cloake about thee. He. ' Bell my wife she loves not strife, Yet she will lead me if she can ; And oft, to live a quiet life, I am forced to yield, though I me good-man :' 60 Itt's not for a man with a woman to threape,^ Unlesse he first give oer the plea : As wee began wee now will leave, And He take mine old cloake about mee. Ver. 49. King Harry . . a verry good king, MS. V. 50. I trow his hose cost but, MS. V. 51. He thought them i2d.^over to deere, MS. V. 52. clowne, MS. V. 53. He was king, and wore the crowne, MS. [V. 57-60: — " O Bell my wiffe ! why dost thou fiflyte now is now and then was then ; wee will live now obedyent lyffe thou the woman and I the man." V. 63. wee will live nowe as wee began. V. 64. He have. ^ rascal. 2 ^^q^j ^rt. ^ argue.] IVIL L O IV, JVIL LOW. 1 99 VIII. WILLOW, WILLOW, WILLOW. tT is from the following stanzas that Shakespeare has taken his song of the IVillow, in his Othello, act iv. sc. 3, though somewhat varied and applied by him to a female character. He makes Desdemona introduce it in this pathetic and afiecting manner : " My mother had a maid call'd Barbara : She was in love ; and he, she lov'd, prov'd mad, And did forsake her. She had a Song of — Willow. .\n old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune. And she died singing it." This is given from a black-letter copy in the Pepys collection, thus intitled, A Lover's Complaint, being forsaken of his Love. To a pleasant tune. ['' Willow, willow" was a favourite burden for songs in the six- teenth and seventeenth centuries, and one of John Hey^vood's songs has the following— " All a grene wyllow ; ^vyllow, wyllow, ^vyllow, All a grene wyllow is my garland.'' In the Gorgeous Gallery of Gallant Itivcntions (1578) there is a slightly different burden — " Willow, willow, willow, sing all of green willow. Sing all of green willow, shall be my garland." There is another copy of the following song in the Roxburghe Collection (i. 54, 55) printed m -Roxburghe Ballads (ed. W. Chap- pell, 1869, Part I. p. 171). Both these are of the first half of the seventeenth century, and an earlier copy than either is printed by Mr. Chappell in his Popular Music of the Olden Time, i. 206. Dr. Rimbault' has drawn attention to the following parody, dated 1668— [• Rimbault's Musical Illustrations of Percy's Reliqucs, 1850, p. 9.] 200 WILLOW, WILLOW. " A poore soule sat sighing near a ginger-bread stall, O ginger-bread O, ginger-bread O ! With his hands in his pockets, his head on the wall, O ginger-bread O, ginger-bread O ! You pye-wifes of Smithfield, what would ye be at ! Who talks of plum-pudding? here's better than that, For here's ginger-bread O, ginger-bread O ! "] POORE soule sat sighing under a sicamore tree ; O willow, willow, willow ! With his hand on his bosom, his head on his knee : O willow, willow, willow ! O willow, willow, willow ! 5 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. He sigh'd in his singing, and after each grone, Come willow, &c. I am dead to all pleasure, my true-love is gone ; O willow, &c. 10 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. My love she is turned ; untrue she doth prove : O willow, &c. She renders me nothing but hate for my love. O willow, &c. 15 Sing, O the greene willow, &c. O pitty me, (cried he) ye lovers, each one ; O willow, &c. Her heart's hard as marble ; she rues not my mone. O willow, &c. ao Sing, O the greene willow, &c. The cold streams ran by him, his eyes wept apace ; O willow, &;c. WIL LOU: IV I L L O TV. 201 The salt tears fell from him, which drowned his face : O willow, »S:c. 25 Sing", O the greene willow, Sec. The mute birds sate by him, made tame by his mones : O willow, ttc. The salt tears fell from him, which softened the stones. O willow, &c. 30 Sing-, O the greene willow shall be my garland ! Let nobody blame me, her scornes I do prove ; O willow, &c. She was borne to be faire ; I, to die for her love. O willow, &:c. 35 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. that beauty should harbour a heart that's so hard ! "^ Sing willow, &c. ]\Iy true love rejecting without all regard. O willow, See. 40 Sing, O the greene willow, &c. Let love no more boast him in palace, or bower ; O willow, &c. For women are trothles,^ and flote"^ in an houre. O willow, &c. 45 Sing, O the greene willow, Sec. But what helps complaining ? In vaine I complaine : O willow, &c. 1 must patiently suffer her scorne and disdaine. O willow, &c. 50 Sing, O the greene willow, &;c. Come, all you forsaken, and sit down by me, O willow, &c. He that 'plaincs of his false love, mine's falser than she. O willow, Sic. 55 Sing, O the greene willow, &c. [' faithless. - change.] 202 WILLOW, WILLOW. The willow wreath weare I, since my love did fleet ; O willow, &c. A Garland for lovers forsaken most meete. O willow, &c. 60 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland ! Part the Second. \ OWE lay'd by my sorrow, begot by disdalne; O willow, willow, willow ! Against her too cruell, still still I complaine, O willow, willow, willow ! O willow, willow, willow! 5 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland ! O love too injurious, to wound my poore heart ! O willow, &c. To suffer the triumph, and joy in my smart : O willow, &c. 10 Sing, O the greene willow, &c. O willow, willow, willow ! the willow garland, O willow, &c. A sign of her falsenesse before me doth stand : O willow, &c. 15 Sing, O the greene willow, &c. As here it doth bid to despair and to dye, O willow, &c. So haf g it, friends, ore me in grave where I lye : O wiilow, &c. 20 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. In grave where I rest mee, hang this to the view O willow, &c. Of all that doe knowe her, to blaze her untrue. O willow, &c. 25 Sing, O the greene willow, &c. WILLOW, JVILLOW. 203 With these words engraven, as epitaph meet, O willow, &c. " Here lyes one, drank poyson for potion most sweet." O willow, &c. 30 Sing, O the greene willow, &c. Though she thus unkindly hath scorned my love, O willow, &.C. And carelesly smiles at the sorrowes I prove ; O willow, (jsic. 35 Sing, O the greene willow, &c. I cannot against her unkindly exclaim, O willow, &c. Cause once well I loved her, and honoured her name : O willow, &:c. 4c Sing, O the greene willow, &;c. The name of her sounded so sweete in mine eare, O willow, &c. It rays'd my heart lightly, the name of my deare ; O willow, &c. 45 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. As then 'twas my comfort, it now is my griefe ; O willow, &c. It now brings me anguish, then brought me reliefe. O willow, &c. 50 Sing, O the greene willow, &c. Farewell, fairefalsehearted: plaintsendwithm^ oreath! O willow, willow, willow! Thou dost loath me, I love thee, though cause of my death. O willow, willow, willow! 55 O willow, willow, willow ! Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. X 204 SIR LANCELOT IX. SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE. HIS ballad is quoted in Shakespeare's second Part ot Henry IV. act ii. The subject of it is taken from the ancient romance of K. Arthur (commonly called Morte Arthur) being a poetical translation of ehap. cviii. cix. ex. in Pt. ist, as they stand in ed. 1634, 4to. In the older editions the chapters are differently numbered. — This song is given from a printed copy, corrected in part by a fragment in the Editor's folio MS. In the same play of 2 Hen. IV. Silence hums a scrap of one of the old ballads of Robin Hood. It is taken from the following stanza of Robin Hood and the Pindar of Wakefield. " All this beheard three wighty yeomen, Twas Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John : With that they espy'd the jolly Pindkr As he sate under a thorne." That ballad may be found on every stall, and therefore is not here reprinted. [This is a rhymed version of some chapters in Malory's Mort d'A7'tht(r (Book vi. of Caxton's edition), said to have been written by Thomas Deloney towards the end of EUzabeth's reign. It first occurs in the Garland of Good Will, reprinted by the Percy Society (vol. XXX.) The ballad appears to hav£ been highly popular, and it is quoted by Marston in the Alalcojitent and by Beaumont and' Fletcher in the Little Fj-ench Lawyer, as well as by Shakspere. The copy in the Percy MS. (ed. Hales and Furnivall, 1867, vol. i. p. 84) is imperfect in two places, and lines 30 to 60, 73 to 76, and 95 to 124 are not to be found there, but with these exceptions it is much the same as the ballad printed here.] DU LAKE. 205 HEN Arthur first in court began, And was approved king, By force of armes great victorys wanne, And conquest home did bring. Then into England straight he came s With fifty good and able Knights, that resorted unto him, And were of his round table : And he had justs and turnaments, Whereto were many prest,^ 10 Wherin some knights did farr excell And eke surmount the rest. But one Sir Lancelot du Lake, Wlio was approved well. He for his deeds and feats of armes, 15 All others did excell. When he had rested him a while, , In play, and game, and sportt, He said he wold goe prove himselfe In some adventurous sort. 20 He armed rode in a forrest wide. And met a.damsell faire'. Who told him of adventures great, Wherto he gave great eare. Such wold I find, quoth Lancelott : 25 For that cause came I hither. Thou seemst, quoth shee, a knight full good, And I will bring thee thither. Vcr. 18. to sportt, MS. \} ready.] 2o6 SIR LANCELOT Wheras a mighty knight doth dwell, That now is of great fame : 30 Therfore tell me what wight thou art, And what may be thy name. " My name is Lancelot du Lake." Quoth she, it likes me than •} Here dwelles a knight who never was 35 Yet matcht with any man : Who has in prison threescore knights And four, that he did wound ; Knights of king Arthurs court they be, And of his table round. 4.0 She brought him to a river side. And also to a tree, Whereon a copper bason hung, And many shields to see. He struck soe hard, the bason broke ; 45 And Tarquin soon he spyed : Who drove a horse before him fast. Whereon a knight lay tyed. Sir knight, then sayd Sir Lancelott, Bring me that horse-load hither, 50 And lay him downe, and let him rest ; Weel try our force together : For, as I understand, thou hast, Soe far as thou art able. Done great despite and shame unto 55 The knights of the Round Table. If thou be of the Table Round, Quoth Tarquin speedilye, Ver. 29. Where\'=, often used by our old writers for whereas: here it is just the contrary. [1 then.] DU LAKE. 207 Both thee and all thy fellowship I utterly defye. 60 That's over much, quoth Lancelott tho/ Defend thee by and by. They sett their speares'"^ unto their steeds, And eache att other flie. They coucht theire speares, (their horses ran, 65 As though there had beene thunder) And strucke them each immidst their shields, Wherewith they broke in sunder. Their horsses backes brake under them, The knights were both astound :'' 70 To avoyd their horsses they made haste And light upon the ground. They tooke them to their shields full fast, Their swords they drew out than, With mighty strokes most eagerlye 7s Each at the other ran. They wounded were, and bled full sore, They both for breath did stand. And leaning on their swords awhile, Quoth Tarquine, Hold thy hand, 80 And tell to me what I shall aske. Say on, quoth Lancelot tho. Thou art, quoth Tarquine, the best knight That ever I did know ; And like a knight, that I did hate : 85 Soe that thou be not hee, I will deliver all the rest, And eke accord with thee. [' then. ' spurs? ^ stunned.] 2o8 SIR LANCELOT That is well said, quoth Lancelott ; But sith it must be soe, 90 What knight is that thou hatest thus ? I pray thee to me show. His name is Lancelot du Lake, He slew my brother deere ; Him I suspect of all the rest: 95 I would I had him here. Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknowne, I am Lancelot du Lake, Now kniofht of Arthurs Table Round ; fc. Kine Hauds son of Schuwake t> 100 And I desire thee do thy worst. Ho, ho, quoth Tarquin tho. One of us two shall end our lives Before that we do go. If thou be Lancelot du Lake, 105 Then welcome shalt thou bee : Wherfore see thou thyself defend, For now defye I thee. They buckled then together so. Like unto wild boares rashing ;* no * Rashing seems to be the old hunting term to express the stroke made by the wild boar with his fangs. To ?-ase has apparently a meaning something similar. See Mr. Steevefis's Note on K. Lear, act iii. sc. 7, (ed. 1793, vol. xiv. p. 193) where the quartos read, " Nor thy fierce sister In his anointed flesh rash boarish fangs." So in K. Richard III. act iii. sc. 2, (vol. x. p. 567, 583.) " He dreamt To night the Boar had rased off his helm." [Ver. 100. " King Ban's son of Benwick." Malory.'] DU LAKE. 209 And with their swords and shields they ran At one another slashing : The ground besprinkled was with blood : Tarquin began to yield ; For he gave backe for wearinesse, us And lowe did beare his shield. This soone Sir Lancelot espyde, He leapt upon him then, He pull'd him downe upon his knee, And rushine off his helm. t> 120 Forthwith he strucke his necke in two, And, when he had soe done, From prison threescore knights and four Delivered everye one. X. CORYDON'S FAREWELL TO PHILLIS, S an attempt to paint a lover's irresolution, but so poorly executed, that it would not have been admitted into this collection, if it had not been quoted in Shake- speare's Twelfth- Night, act ii. sc. 3. — It is found in a little ancient miscellany, intituled, The Golden Garland of Princely Delights, i2mo. bl. let. In the same scene of the Tiuclfth- Night, Sir Toby sings a scrap of an old ballad, which is preserved in the Pepys Collection (vol. i. PP- ZZi 49*^)) but as it is not only a poor dull performance, but also very long, it will be sufficient here to give the first stanza : The Ballad of" Constant Susanna. There dwelt a man in Babylon Of reputation great by fome ; He took to wife a faire womiin, Susanna she was callde by name : P 2IO CORYDON'S FAREWELL A woman fair and vertuous ; Lady, lady : Why should we not of her learn thus To live godly ? If this song of Corydon, &c. has not more merit, it is at least an evil of less magnitude. [Dr. Rimbault refers to an earlier copy of this song in a rare musical volume entitled The First Booke of Ayres, composed by Robert Jones, 1 60 1, where it is accompanied by the original music for four voices. This tune appears to have been a very popular one, and several Scottish songs are to be sung to the " toon of sal I let her go." The air is also to be found in a Dutch collection of Songs published at Haarlem in 1626. In Brome's comedy of The Jovial Crciv, acted in 1641 at the Cockpit in Drury Lane, there is an allusion perhaps to this song : " Let her go, let her go, I care not if I have her, I have her or no."] JAREWELL, dear love; since thou wilt needs be gone. Mine eyes do shew, my life is almost done. Nay I will never die, so long as I can spie There be many mo, though that she doe goe, There be many mo, I fear not : 5 Why then let her goe, I care not. Farewell, farewell ; since this I find is true, I will not spend more time in wooing you : But I will seek elsewhere, if I may find love there : Shall I bid her goe ? what and if I doe } 10 Shall I bid her goe and spare not ? O no, no, no, I dare not. Ten thousand times farewell ; — yet stay a while : — Sweet, kiss me once ; sweet kisses time beguile : 14. TO P HILL IS. 211 I have no power to move. How now am I in love ? Wilt thou needs be gone ? Go then, all is one. Wilt thou needs be gone ? Oh, hie thee ! Nay stay, and do no more deny me. Once more adieu, I see loath to depart Bids oft adieu to her, that holds my heart. 20 But seeing I must lose thy love, which I did choose, Goe thy way for me, since that may not be. Goe thy ways for me. But whither ? Goe, oh, but where I may come thither. What shall I doe ? my love is now departed. 25 She is as fair, as she is cruel-hearted. She would not be intreated, with prayers oft re- peated, If she come no more, shall I die therefore ? If she come no more, what care I .'* Faith, let her goe, or come, or tarry. 30 XI. GERNUTUS THE JEW OF VENICE. ;N the "Z//^ of Pope Sixtus V. translated from the Italian of Greg. Leti, by the Rev. Mr. Fameworth, folio," is a remarkable passage to the following effect : "It was reported in Rome, that Drake had taken and plundered St. Domingo in Hispaniola, and carried off an immense booty. This account came in a private letter to Paul Secchi, a very considerable merchant in the city, who had large concerns in those parts, which he had insured. Upon receiving this news, he sent for the insurer Sampson Ceneda, a Jew, and acquainted him with it. The Jew, whose interest it was to have such a report thought false, gave many reasons why it could not j)Ossibly be true, and at last worked himself into such a passion, that he said, I'll lay you a pound of flesh it is a lye. Secchi, who was of a fiery hot temper, 212 GERNUTUS THE replied, I'll lay you a thousand crowns against a pound of your flesh that it is true. The Jew accepted the wager, and articles were immediately executed betwixt them, That, if Secchi won, he should himself cut the flesh with a sharp knife from whatever part of the Jew's body he pleased. The truth of the account was soon confirmed ; and the Jew was almost distracted, when he was informed, that Secchi had solemnly swore he would compel him to an exact performance of his contract. A report of this trans- action was brought to the Pope, who sent for the parties, and, being informed of the whole affair, said, When contracts are made, it is but just they should be fulfilled, as this shall : Take a knife, therefore, Secchi, aftd cut a pound of flesh from any part you please of the Jew's body. We advise you, however, to be very careful ; for, if you cut but a scruple more or less than your due, you shall •certainly be hanged." The editor of that book is of opinion that the scene between Shylock and Antonio in the Maxhant of Venice is taken from this incident. But Mr. Warton, in his ingenious ObservatioJis on the Faerie Queen, vol. i. p. 128, has referred it to the following ballad. Mr. Warton thinks this ballad was written before Shakespeare's play, as being not so circumstantial, and having more of the naked- ness of an original. Besides, it differs from the play in many circumstances, which a meer copyist, such as we may suppose the ballad-maker to be, would hardly have given himself the trouble to alter. Indeed he expressly informs us that he had his story from the Italian writers. See the Connoissmr, vol. i. No. 16. After all, one would be glad to know what authority Leti had for the foregoing fact, or at least for connecting it with the taking of St. Domingo by Drake ; for this expedition did not happen till 1585, and it is very certain that a play of the Jewe, " representing the greedinesse of worldly chusers, and bloody minds of usurers," had been exhibited at the play-house called the Bull before the year 1579, being mentioned in Steph. Gosson's Schoole of Abuse* which was printed in that year. As for Shakespeare's Moxhant of Venice, the earliest edition known of it is in quarto 1600 ; though it had been exhibited in the year 1598, being mentioned, together with eleven others of his plays, in Meres's Wits Treasury, &c. 1598, i2mo. fol. 282. Since the first edition of this book was printed, the editor hath had reason to believe that both Shakespeai-e and the author of this ballad are indebted for their story of the Jew (however they came by it) to an Italian novel, which was first printed at Milan in the year 1558, in a book intitled, // Pecorone, nel quale si conten- gono Cinqua7ita Novelle antiche, &^c. republished at Florence about * Warton, ubi supra. yElV OF VENICE. 21 J the year 174S, or g.* The author was Ser. Gicn'anni Fioraitino, who wTote in 1378; thirty years after the time in which the scene of Boccace's Decameron is laid. (Vid. Manni, Istoria del Deca- merone di Gicn'. Boccac. 4to. Fior. 1744.) That Shakespeare had his plot from the novel itself, is evident from his having some incidents from it, which are not found in the ballad : and I think it will also be found that he borrowed from the ballad some hints that were not suggested by the novel. (See pt. ii. ver. 25, &c. where, instead of that spirited description of the 7C'/ietfed blade, &c. the prose narrative coldly says, " The Jew had prepared a razor, &c.'' See also some other passages in the same piece.) This however is spoken with diffidence, as I have at present before me only the abridgement of the novel which Mr. Johnson has given us at the end of his Commentary on Shake- speare's Play. The translation of the Italian story at large is not easy to be met with, having I believe never been published, though it was printed some years ago \\ith this title, — " Tfie Novel, from which the Merchant of Venice \\Titten by Shakespeare is taken, translated from the Italian. To which is added a translation of a novel from the Dccamerone of Boccaccio. London, Printed for M. Cooper, 1755, 8vo." The followng is printed from an ancient black-letter copy in the Pepys collection,! intitled, "^ Neiu Song, shcAving the crueltie of Gernutus, dijeioe, whq, lending to a merchant an hundred cro\vns, would have a pound of his fleshe, because he could not pay him at the time appointed. To the tune of Black and Yellow." [This is the first of four ballads printed by Percy as probable sources for the plots of four of Shakspere's plays, but as we are unable to fix any satisfactory date for the first appearance of the ballads, it is well-nigh impossible to settle their claim to such dis- tinction. The stor}' of the Jew who bargained for a pound of a Christian's flesh in payment of his debt is so widely spread, that there is no necessity for us to believe that Shakspere used this rather poor ballad, more especially as it is probable from the extract from Gosson mentioned above that Shakspere found the two plots of the bond and the caskets already joined together. There is, how- ever, something in Percy's note about the whetting of the knife in verses 25-26, and it would be quite in accordance with the j^oet's constant practice for him to take this one point from the ballad of Gernutus. The ballad was probably versified from one of the many stories extant, because, even if it be later than Shakspere's [• This book has been frequently reprinted.] t Compared with the Ashmole Copy. 214 GERNUTUS THE play, it is impossible to believe that the ballad-uTiter could have ■written so bald a narration had he had the Merchant of Venice before him. Some forms of the story are to be found in Persian, and there is no doubt that the original tale is of Eastern origin. The oldest European forms are in the English Cursor Micndi and Gesta Romanorum, and the French romance of Dolopathos. See Miss Toulmin Smith's paper " On the Bond-story in the Merchant of Venice" "Transactions of the New Shakspere Society," 1875-6 p. 181. Professor Child prints a ballad entitled The Northern Lord and Criieijctv {English and Scottish Ballads, vol. viii. p. 270), which contains the same incident of the " bloody minded Jew." Leti's character as an historian stands so low that his story may safely be dismissed as a fabrication.] The First Part. N Venice towne not long agoe A cruel Jew did dwell, Which lived all on usurie, As Italian writers tell. Gernutus called was the Jew, Which never thought to dye, Nor ever yet did any good To them in streets that lie. His life was like a barrow hogge,^ That liveth many a day, Yet never once doth any good. Until men will him slay. Or like a filthy heap of dung. That lyeth in a whoard ; ^ Which never can do any good, Till it be spread abroad. So fares it with the usurer. He cannot sleep in rest. 10 15 \} a castrated hog. 2 hoard or heap. ] JEJV OF VENICE. 215 For feare the thiefe will him pursue To plucke him from his nest. 20 His heart doth thinke on many a wile, How to deceive the poore ; His mouth is almost ful of mucke, Yet still he gapes for more. His wife must lend a shilling, 25 For every weeke a penny. Yet bring a pledge, that is double worth. If that you will have any. And see, likewise, you keepe your day. Or else you loose it all : 30 This was the livinof of the wife, Her cow she did it call. Within that citie dwelt that time A marchant of great fame, Which being distressed in his need, 35 Unto Gernutus came : Desiring him to stand his friend For twelve month and a day, To lend to him an hundred crownes : And he for it would pay 4.0 Whatsoever he would demand, of him. And pledges he should have. No, (quoth the Jew with flcaring^ lookes) Sir, aske what you will have. Ver. 32. Her Cow, &c. seems to have suggested to Shakespeare Shylock's argument for usury taken from Jacob's management of Laban's sheep, act i. to which Antofiio rci)Hcs, "Was this inserted to make interest good? Or are your gold and silver E^ves and rams ? Shy. I cannot tell, I make it breed^as fast." [' sneering.] / 2i6 GERNUTUS THE . No penny for the loane of it 45 For one year you shall pay ; You may doe me as good a turne, \ Before my dying day. But we will have a merry jeast, For to be talked long : 50 You shall make me a bond, quoth he, That shall be large and strong : And this shall be the forfeyture ; Of your owne fleshe a pound. If you agree, make you the bond, 55 And here is a hundred crownes. With right good will ! the marchant says: And so the bond was made. When twelve month and a day drew on That backe it should be payd, 60 The marchants ships were all at sea. And money came not in ; Which way to take, or what to doe To thinke he doth beein : '& And to Gernutus strait he comes 65 With cap and bended knee, And sayde to him, Of curtesie I pray you beare with mee. My day is come, and I have not The money for to pay : 70 And little good the forfeyture Will doe you, I dare say. With all my heart, Gernutus sayd, Commaund it to your minde : In thinges of bigger waight then this 75 You shall me ready finde. yEW OF VENICE. 217 He goes his way ; the day once past Gernutus doth not slacke To get a sergiant presently ; And clapt him on the backe : 80 And layd him into prison strong, And sued his bond withall ; And when the judgement day was come. For judgement he did call. The marchants friends came thither fast, 85 With many a weeping eye. For other means they could not find, But he that day must dye. The Second Part. " Of the Jews crueltie ; setting foorth the mercifulnesse of the Judge towards the Marchant. To the tune of Blacke atid Yel- OME offered for his hundred crownes Five hundred for to pay ; And some a thousand, two or three, Yet still he did denay.^ And at the last ten thousand crownes s They offered, him to save, Gernutus sayd, I will no gold : My forfeite I will have. A pound of fleshe is my demand, And that shall be my hire. 10 Then sayd the judge, Yet, good my friend, Let me of you desire [1 refuse.] 2i8 GERNUTUS THE To take the flesh from such a place, As yet you let him live : Do so, and lo ! an hundred crownes 15 To thee here will I give. No : no : quoth he ; no : judgment here : For this it shall be tride, For I will have my pound of fleshe From under his right side. ao It grieved all the companie His cruel tie to see, For neither friend nor foe could helpe But he must spoyled bee. The bloudie Jew now ready is as With whetted blade in hand,* To spoyle the bloud of innocent, By forfeit of his bond. And as he was about to strike In him the deadly blow : 30 Stay (quoth the judge) thy crueltie ; I charge thee to do so. Sith needs thou wilt thy forfeit have ; Which is of flesh a pound : / See that thou shed no drop of bloud, 35 ( Nor yet the man confound.'^ For if thou doe, like murderer. Thou here shalt hanged be : Likewise of flesh see that thou cut No more than longes^ to thee : 40 * The passage in Shakespeare bears so strong a resemblance to this, as to render it probable that the one suggested the other. See act iv. sc. 2. " Bass. Why doest thou whet thy knife so earnestly ? " &c. \} destroy. ^ belongs.] yEW OF VENICE. 219 For if thou take either more or lesse To the vakie of a mite, Thou shak be hanged presently, As is both law and right. Gernutus now waxt franticke mad, 45 And wotes^ not what to say ; Quoth he at last, Ten thousand crownes, I will that he shall pay ; And so I graunt to set him free. The judge doth answere make ; 50 You shall not have a penny given ; Your forfeyture now take. At the last he doth demaund But for to have his owne. No, quoth the judge, doe as you list, 55 Thy judgement shall be showne. Either take your pound of flesh, quoth he. Or cancell me your bond. O cruell judge, then quoth the Jew, That doth ao^ainst me stand ! 60 And so with griping grieved mind He biddeth them fare-well. ' Then ' all the people prays'd the Lord, That ever this heard tell. Good people, that doe heare this song, 65 For trueth I dare well say. That many a wretch as ill as hee Doth live now at this day ; That seckcth nothing but the spoyle Of many a wealthey man, 70 Ver. 6 1 . griped, Ashmol. copy. [^ knows.] 220 GERNUTUS THE JEW. And for to trap the innocent Deviseth what they can. From whome the Lord deliver me, And every Christian too, And send to them Hke sentence eke That meaneth so to do. 75 XII. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. HIS beautiful sonnet is quoted in the Merry Wives of ^Windsor, act iii. sc. i, and hath been usually ascribed (together with the Reply) to Shakespeare himself by the modern editors of his smaller poems. A copy of this madrigal, containing only four stanzas (the 4th and 6th being wanting), accompanied with the first stanza of the answer, being printed in " The Fasstotmte Pi/grime, and Sonnets to stmdry fiotes of Musicke, by Mr. William Shakespeare, Lond. printed for W.Jaggard, 1599." Thus was this sonnet, &c. published as Shakespeare's in his life-time. And yet there is good reason to believe that (not Shakespeare, but) Christopher Marloiv wrote the song, and Sir Walter Raleigh the Nytnph's Reply: For so we are positively assured by Isaac Walton, a writer of some credit, who has inserted them both in his Compleat Angler * under the character of " that smooth song, which was made by Kit. Marlow, now at least fifty years ago ; and .... an Answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days .... Old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good." — It also passed for Marlow's in the opinion of his contemporaries ; for in the old poetical miscellany, intitled England's Helicon, it is printed with the name of Chr. Marlow subjoined to it; and the Reply is subscribed Ignoto, which is known to have been a signa- ture of Sir Walter Raleigh. With the same signature Ignoto, in that collection, is an imitation of Marlow's beginning thus : * First printed in the year 1653, but probably written some time before. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD. 221 " Come live with me, and be my dear, And we will revel all the year, In plains and, groves, &c." Upon the whole I am inclined to attribute them to Marloiv, and Raleigh ; notwithstanding the authority of Shakespeare's Book of Sonnets. For it is well known that as he took no care of his owni compositions, so was he utterly regardless what spurious things were fathered upon him. 'Sax John 0/dcast/e, The London Prodigal, and The Yorkshire Tragedy, were printed with his name at full length in the title-pages, while he was living, which yet were after- wards rejected by his first editors Heminge and Condell, who were his intimate friends (as he mentions both in his will), and therefore no doubt had good authority for setting them aside.* The following sonnet appears to have been (as it deserved) a groat favourite with our earlier poets : for, besides the imitation above-mentioned, another is to be found among Donne $ Poems, intitled The Bait, beginning thus : " Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, &c." As for Chr. Marhm.', who was in high repute for his dramatic \\Titings, he lost his life by a stab received in a brothel, before the year 1593. See A. Wood, i. 138. [These exquisite poems by Christopher Marlowe and Sir Walter Raleigh at once became popular favourites, and were often re- printed. The earliest appearance of the first was in Marlowe's Je'cu of Malta. An imperfect copy was printed by W. Jaggard with the Passionate Pilgrim in 1599, and the first stanza of the Reply was then added to it. In the following year both poems were correctly printed in England's Helieon, the first being signed " Chr. Marlow" and the second " Ignoto." When Walton introduced the poems into his Angler he attributed the Reply to Raleigh, and printed an additional stanza to each as follows : — Passionate Shepherd (after verse 20). " Thy silver dishes for thy meat As precious as the gods do eat Shall on an ivory table be Prepared each day for thee and me." Since the above was ^vritten, Mr. Malone, with his usual dis- cernment, hath rejected the stanzas in (jueslion from the other sonnets, iVc. of Shakespeare, in his correct edition of the Passionate Pilgrim, &c. See his Shakesp. vol. x. p. 340. 222 THE PASSIONATE NympHs Reply {after verse 20). " What should we talk of dainties then Of better meat than's fit for men ? These are but vain, that's only good Which God hath blest and sent for food." In the Roxburghe Collection of Ballads (i. 205) is a street ballad in which these two songs are united and entitled A most excelk^it ditty of the Lover's promises to his beloved, with the Lady' s prudent answer to her Love. The verses referred to above as added by Walton are here printed, but they take the place of verses 17 to 20 of each song respectively. Mr. Chappell and Dr. Rimbault have both drawn attention to the proofs of the popularity of Marlowe's song to be found in out V of the way places. In Choice^ Chance^ and Chafige, or Conceits in their Colours (1606), Tidero being invited to live with his friend, replies, "Why, how now? do you take me for a woman, that you come upon me with a ballad of Come live with me and be my love V In The World's Folly, 1609, there is the following passage : " But there sat he, hanging his head, lifting up the eyes, and with a deep sigh singing the ballad of Co7ne live with me and be my love, to the tune of Adew my deere." Nicholas Breton refers to it in 1637 as " the old song," but Walton considered it fresh enough to insert in his Angler in 1653, although Marlowe had then been dead sixty years.] OME live with me, and be my love, And we wil all the pleasures prove That hils and vallies, dale and field, And all the craggy mountains yield. There will we sit upon the rocks. And see the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. There will I make thee beds of roses With a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Imbrodered all with leaves of mirtle ; 10 SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. 223 A eown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull ; Slippers lin'd choicely for the cold ; 15 With buckles of the purest gold ; A belt of straw, and ivie buds, With coral clasps, and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Then live with me, and be my love. 20 The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning : If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me, and be my love. The Nymph's Reply. ^f^f^§j^F that the World and Love were young, ^^ And truth in every shepherd's toung, ^ These pretty pleasures might me move U To live with thee, and be thy love. But time drives flocks from field to fold, 5 When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold, And Philomel becometh dumb. And all complain of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward winter reckoning yield : 10 A honey tongue, a heart of gall. Is fancies spring, but sorrows fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies. Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten, 15 In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw, and ivie buds, Thy coral clasps, and amber studs ; 224 TITUS ANDRONICUS'S All these in me no means can move To come to thee, and be thy love. zo But could youth last, and love still breed, Had joyes no date, nor age no need ; Then those delights my mind might move To live with thee, and be thy love. XIII. TITUS ANDRONICUS'S COMPLAINT. *HE reader has here an ancient ballad on the same sub- ject as the play of Titus Androntcus, and it is probable that the one was borrowed from the other : but which of them was the original it is not easy to decide. And yet, if the argument offered above for the priority of the ballad of the Jew of Ve?iice may be admitted, somewhat of the same kind may be urged here ; for this ballad differs from the play in several particulars, which a simple ballad- writer would be less likely to alter than an in- ventive tragedian. Thus in the ballad is no mention of the contest for the empire between the two brothers, the composing of which makes the ungrateful treatment of Titus afterwards the more flagrant : neither is there any notice taken of his sacrificing one of Tamora's sons, which the tragic poet has assigned as the original cause of all her cruelties. In the play Titus loses twenty-one of his sons in war, and kills another for assisting Bassianus to carry off Lavinia : the reader will find it different in the ballad. In the latter she is betrothed to the emperor's son : in the play to his brother. In the tragedy only two of his sons fall into the pit, and the third being banished returns to Rome with a victorious army, to avenge the wrongs of his house : in the ballad all three are entrapped and suffer death. In the scene the emperor kills Titus, and is in return stabbed by Titus's surviving son. Here Titus kills the emperor, and after- wards himself Let the reader weigh these circumstances and some others wherein he will find them unlike, and then pronounce for himself After all, there is reason to conclude that this play was rather improved by Shakespeare with a few fine touches of his pen, than originally written by him ; for, not to mention that the style is less figurative COMPLAINT. 225 than his others generally are, this tragedy is mentioned with discredit in the Induction to Ben Jonsons BartJwlomew Fair, in 1614, as one that had then been exhibited " five and twenty or thirty years :" whicli, if we take the lowest number, throws it back to the year 1589, at which time Shakespeare was but 25 : an earlier date than can be found for any other of his pieces :* and if it does not clear him entirely of it, shews at least it was a first attempt.f The follo\\'ing is given from a copy in The Golden Garland intitled as above; compared with three others, two of them in black letter in the Pepys Collection, intitled. The Lamentable and Tragical History of Titus Andronicus, &>€. To the tune of, Fortune. Printed for E. Wright. Unluckily none of these have any dates. [No original from which the plot of the play of Titus Andronicus could be taken has yet been discovered, and it is just possible that this ballad may have given the hint, but the Registers of the Stationers' Company go some way towards proving a negative to this supposition, for on the 6th of February, 1593-4, John Danter registered A noble Roman Historye of Tytus A?idronicus, and also t/i€ ballad thereof.^ OU noble minds, and famous martiall wights, That in defence of native country fights, Give eare to me, that ten yeeres fought for Rome, Yet reapt disgrace at my returning home. * Mr. Malone thinks 1591 to be the oera when our author com- menced a \vTiter for the stage. See in his Shakcsp. the ingenious Attempt to ascertain the order in which the plays of Shakespeare were written. t Since the above was ^vritten, Shakespeare's memory has been fully vindicated from the charge of writing the above play by the best criticks. See what has been urged by Steevens and Malone in their excellent editions of Shakespeare, &c. [The question of Shakspere's authorship is not by any means so comi)Ietcly settled in the negative as this note would imply. The external evidence for its authenticity is as strong as for most of the other plays. See Ne7u Shakspere Society's Transactions, Part i. p. 126, for a list of pas- sages which seem to bear evidence of Shakspere's hand in their composition.] Q 2 26 TITUS ANDRONICUS'S In Rome I lived in fame fulle threescore yeeres, 5 My name beloved was of all my peeres ; Full five and twenty valiant sonnes I had, Whose forwarde vertues made their father glad. For when Romes foes their warlike forces bent, Against them stille my sonnes and I were sent ; 10 Against the Goths full ten yeeres weary warre We spent, receiving many a bloudy scarre. Just two and twenty of my sonnes were slaine Before we did returne to Rome aeaine : Of five and twenty sonnes, I brought but three 15 Alive, the stately towers of Rome to see. When wars were done, I conquest home did bring, And did present my prisoners to the king. The queene of Goths, her sons, and eke a moore, Which did such murders, like was nere before. 20 The emperour did make this queene his wife. Which bred in Rome debate and deadlie strife ; The moore, with her two sonnes did growe soe proud, That none like them in Rome might bee allowd. The moore soe pleas'd this new-made empress' eie, 25 That she consented to him secretlye For to abuse her husbands marriage bed, And soe in time a blackamore she bred. Then she, whose thoughts to murder were inclinde. Consented with the moore of bloody minde 30 Against myselfe, my kin, and all my friendes, In cruell sort to bring them to their endes. Soe when in age I thought to live in peace, Both care and griefe began then to increase : Amongst my sonnes I had one daughter bright, 35 Which joy'd, and pleased best my aged sight ; COMPLAINT. 227 My deare Lavinia was betrothed than To Cesars sonne, a young and noble man : Who in a hunting by the emperours wife, And her two sonnes. bereaved was of Hfe. 40 He being slaine, was cast in cruel wise, Into a darksome den from light of skies : The cruell moore did come that way as then With my three sonnes, who fell into the den. The moore then fetcht the emperour with speed, 45 For to accuse them of that murderous deed ; And when my sonnes within the den were found, In wrongfuU prison they were cast and bound. But nowe, behold ! what wounded most my mind, The empresses two sonnes of savage kind 50 My daughter ravished without remorse, And took away her honour, quite perforce. When they had tasted of soe sweete a flowre, Fearing this sweete should shortly turne to sowre, They cutt her tongue, whereby she could not tell 55 How that dishonoure unto her befell. Then both her hands they basely cutt off quite. Whereby their wickednesse she could not write ; Nor with her needle on her sampler so we The bloudye workers of her direfull woe. 60 My brother Marcus found her in the wood, Staining the grassie ground with purple bloud. That trickled from her stumpcs, and bloudlesse armes: Noe tongue at all she had to tell her harmes. But wlicn I sawe her in that woefull case, 65 With teares of bloud I wet mine acred face : For my Lavinia I lamented more Then for my two and twenty sonnes before. 228 TITUS ANDRONICUS'S When as I sawe she could not write nor speake, With grief mine aged heart began to breake ; 70 We spred an heape of sand upon the ground, Whereby those bloudy tyrants out we found. For with a staffe, without the helpe of hand, She writt these wordes upon the plat of sand : " The lustfull sonnes of the proud emperesse 75 Are doers of this hateful wickednesse." I tore the milk-white hairs from off mine head, I curst the houre, wherein I first was bred, I wisht this hand, that fought for countrie's fame, In cradle rockt, had first been stroken lame. 80 The moore delighting still in villainy Did say, to sett my sonnes from prison free I should unto the king my right hand give. And then my three imprisoned sonnes should live. The moore I caus'd to strike it off with speede, 85 Whereat I grieved not to see it bleed, But for my sonnes would willingly impart, And for their ransome send my bleeding heart. But as my life did linger thus in paine. They sent to me my bootlesse hand againe, 90 And therewithal the heades of my three sonnes, Which filld my dying heart with fresher moanes. Then past reliefe I upp and downe did goe, And with my tears writ in the dust my woe : I shot my arrowes* towards heaven hie, 95 And for revenge to hell did often crye. The empresse then, thinking that I was mad, Like furies she and both her sonnes were clad, * If the ballad was written before the play, I should suppose this to be only a metaphorical expression, taken from that in the Psalms, " They shoot out their arrows, even bitter words." Ps. 64. 3. COMPLAINT. 229 (She nam'd Revenge, and Rape and Murder they) To undermine and heare what I would say. 100 I fed their fooHsh veines* a certaine space, Untill my friendes did find a secret place, Where both her sonnes unto a post were bound, And just revenge in cruell sort was found. I cut their throates, my daughter held the pan 105 Betwixt her stumpes, wherein the bloud it ran : And then I ground their bones to powder small. And made a paste for pyes streight therewithall. Then with their fleshe I made two mighty pyes. And at a banquet servde in stately wise : no Before the empresse set this loathsome meat ; So of her sonnes own flesh she well did eat. Myselfe bereav'd my daughter then of life, The empresse then I slewe with bloudy knife. And stabb'd the emperour immediatelie, ns And then myself: even soe did Titus die. Then this revenge against the Moore was found, Alive they sett him halfe into the ground, Whereas he stood untill such time he starv'd. And soe God send all murderers may be serv'd. 120 * i.e. encouraged them in their foolish humours, or fancies. 230 TAKE THOSE LIPS AWAY. XIV. TAKE THOSE LIPS AWAY. fHE first stanza of this little sonnet, which an eminent critic* justly admires for its extreme sweetness, is found in Shakespeare's Measure for Measure, act iv. sc. i. Both the stanzas are preserved in Beaum. and Fletcher's Bloody Brother, act v. sc. 2. Sewel and Gildon have printed it among Shakespeare's smaller poems, but they have done the same by twenty other pieces that were never writ by him ; their book being a wretched heap of inaccuracies and mistakes. It is not found in Jaggard's old edition of Shakespeare's Fassiotiate Pilgrim,\ &c. [The second stanza is an evident addition by another and inferior hand, so that Percy's expression above — " both the stanzas are preserved" — gives a false impression.] i ^g^^ AKE, oh take those lips away, That so sweetlye were forsworne ; And those eyes, the breake of day. Lights, that do misleade the morne : But my kisses bring againe, Scales of love, but seal'd in vaine. Hide, oh hide those hills of snowe, Which thy frozen bosom beares. On whose tops the pinkes that growe, Are of those that April wears : But first set my poor heart free, Bound in those icy chains by thee. 10 * Dr. Warburton in his Shakesp. f Mr. Malone, in his improved edition of Shakespeare's Sonnets, &c. hath substituted this instead of Marlow's Madrigal, printed above ; for which he hath assigned reasons, which the reader may see in his vol. x. p. 340. KING LEIR. XV. KING LEIR AND HIS THREE DAUGHTERS. ^^HE reader has here an ancient ballad on the subject of .^V King Lear, which (as a sensible female critic has well ^^S^ obser\-ed*) bears so exact an analogy to the argument of Shakespeare's play, that his having copied it could not be doubted, if it were certain that it was written before the tragedy. Here is found the hint of Lear's madness, which the old chro- niclesf do not mention, as also the extravagant cruelty exercised on him by his daughters. In the death of Lear they likewise very exactly coincide. The misfortune is, that there is nothing to assist us in ascertaining the date of the ballad but what little evidence arises from within ; this the reader must weigh and judge for himself. It may be proper to observe, that Shakespeare was not the first of our dramatic poets who fitted the story of Leir to the stage. His first 4to. edition is dated 1608: but three years before that had been printed a play intitled, T/te true CJu-onidc History of Leir and his three daughters Gonorill, Ragan, and Cordelia, as it hath been divers and sundry times lately acted, 1605, ^to. — This is a very poor and dull perfomiance, but happily excited Shakespeare to under- take the subject, which he has given with very different incidents. It is remarkable, that neither the circumstances of Leir's madness, nor his retinue of a select number of knights, nor the affecting deaths of Cordelia and Leir, are found in that first dramatic piece : in all which Shakespeare concurs with this ballad. But to form a true judgement of Shakespeare's merit, the curious reader should cast his eye over that previous sketch ; which he will find printed at the end of The Twenty Flays of Shakespeare, repubhshed from the quarto impressions by George Steevens, Esq. ; with such elegance and exactness as led us to expect that fine edi- tion of all the works of our great dramatic poet, which he hath since published. The following ballad is given from an ancient copy in the Golden Mrs. I^nnox. Shakespeare illustrated, vol. iii. p. 302. t See Jeffcry of Monmouth, Holinshcd, (Sic. who relate Leir's history in many respects the same as the ballad. 232 KING LEIR AND HIS Garland, bl. let. intitled, A lamentable song of the Death of King Leir and his Three Daughters. To the tune of When flying Fame. [The old play referred to above, although printed as late as the year 1605, was probably only a re-impression of a piece entered in the Stationers' Register in 1594, as it was a frequent practice of the publishers to take advantage of the popularity of Shakspere's plays on the stage, by publishing dramas having somewhat the same titles as his. The Cordelia of the play is softened in the ballad to Cordelia, the form used by Shakspere and Spenser, but the name Ragan is retained in place of Shakspere's Regan.] ING Leir once ruled in this land With princely power and peace ; And had all things with hearts content, That might his joys increase. Amongst those things that nature gave, 5 Three daughters fair had he, So princely seeming beautiful, As fairer could not be. So on a time it pleas'd the king A question thus to move, 10 Which of his daughters to his grace Could shew the dearest love : For to my age you bring content, Ouoth he, then let me hear. Which of you three in plighted troth 15 The kindest will appear. To whom the eldest thus began ; Dear father, mind, quoth she, Before your face, to do you good. My blood shall render'd be : ao And for your sake my bleeding heart Shall here be cut in twain. Ere that I see your reverend age The smallest grief sustain. THREE DAUGHTERS. 233 And so will I, the second said; 25 Dear father, for your sake, The worst of all extremities I'll gently undertake : And serve your highness night and day With diligence and love ; 30 That sweet content and quietness Discomforts may remove. In doing so, you glad my soul, The aged king reply'd ; But w^hat sayst thou, my youngest girl, 35 How is thy love ally'd ? My love (quoth young Cordelia then) Which to your grace I owe, Shall be the duty of a child. And that is all I'll show. 40 And wilt thou shew no more, quoth he, Than doth thy duty bind ? I well perceive thy love is small. When as no more I find. Henceforth I banish thee my court, 45 Thou art no child of mine ; Nor any part of this my realm By favour shall be thine. Thy elder sisters loves are more Than well I can demand, 50 To whom I equally bestow My kingdome and my land, My pompal state and all my goods, That lovingly I may With those thy sisters be maintain'd 55 Until my dying day. Thus flattering speeches won renown, By these two sisters here ; The third had causeless banishment, Yet was her love more dear : 60 234 KING LEIR AND HIS For poor Cordelia patiently Went wandring up and down, Unhelp'd, unpity'd, gentle maid, Through many an English town : Untill at last in famous France 65 She gentler fortunes found ; Though poor and bare, yet she was deem'd The fairest on the ground : Where when the king her virtues heard. And this fair lady seen, 70 With full consent of all his court He made his wife and queen. Her father king Leir this while With his two daughters staid : Forgetful of their promis'd loves, 75 Full soon the same decay'd ; And living in queen Ragan's court. The eldest of the twain, She took from him his chiefest means. And most of all his train. ^° For whereas twenty men were wont To wait with bended knee : She gave allowance but to ten. And after scarce to three : Nay, one she thought too much for him ; 85 So took she all away, In hope that in her court, good king, He would no longer stay. Am I rewarded thus, quoth he. In giving all I have 9© Unto my children, and to beg For what I lately gave ? I'll go unto my Gonorell : My second child, I know, Will be more kind and pitiful, 95 And will relieve my woe. THREE DAUGHTERS. 235 Full fast he hies then to her court ; Where when she heard his moan Return'd him answer, That she griev'd, That all his means were o;one : 100 But no way could relieve his wants ; Yet if that he would stay Within her kitchen, he should have What scullions gave away. When he had heard, with bitter tears, 105 He made his answer then ; In what I did let me be made Example to all men. I will return again, quoth he, Unto my Ragan's court ; no She will not use me thus, I hope, But in a kinder sort. Where when he came, she gave command To drive him thence away : When he was well within her court 115 (She said) he would not stay. Then back again to Gonorell, The woeful king did hie, That in her kitchen he micjht have What scullion boys set by. 120 But there of that he was deny'd, W^hich she had promis'd late : For once refusing, he should not Come after to her gate. Thus twixt his daughters, for relief 125 He wandred up and down ; Being glad to feed on beggars food, That lately wore a crown. And calling to remembrance then His youngest daughters words, *3o That said the duty of a child Was all that love affords : 2-,6 KING LEIR AND HIS ■0 But doubting to repair to her, Whom he had banish'd so, Grew frantick mad; for in his mind 135 He bore the wounds of woe : Which made him rend his milk-white locks, And tresses from his head, And all with blood bestain his cheeks, With age and honour spread. 140 To hills and woods and watry founts. He made his hourly moan, Till hills and woods, and sensless things, Did seem to sigh and groan. Even thus possest with discontents, 145 He passed o're to France, In hopes from fair Cordelia there. To find some gentler chance ; Most virtuous dame ! which when she heard Of this her father's grief, 150 As duty bound, she quickly sent Him comfort and relief: And by a train of noble peers. In brave and gallant sort, She gave in charge he should be brought 155 To Aganippus' court ; Whose royal king, with noble mind So freely gave consent. To muster up his knights at arms, To fame and courage bent. 160 And so to England came with speed. To repossesse king Leir, And drive his daughters from their thrones By his Cordelia dear. Where she, true-hearted noble queen, 165 Was in the battel slain : Yet he good king, in his old days, Possest his crown again. THREE DAUGHTERS. 1 1 *7 170 But when he heard CordeHa's death, Who died indeed for love Of her dear father, in whose cause She did this battle move ; He swooning fell upon her breast, From whence he never parted : But on her bosom left his life, 175 That was so truly hearted. The lords and nobles when they saw The end of these events. The other sisters unto death They doomed by consents ; And being dead, their crowns they left Unto the next of kin : Thus have you seen the fall of pride, And disobedient sin. ISO XVI. YOUTH AND AGE, ^S found in the little collection of Shakespeare's Sonnets, intitled the Passionate Fi/gri'ine* tlie greatest part of which seems to relate to the amours of Venus and Adonis, being little effusions of fancy, probably written while he was composing his larger poem on that subject. The following seems intended for the mouth of Venus, weighing the comparative merits of youthful Adonis and aged Vulcan. In the Gar/ami of Good Will it is reprinted, with the addition of four more such stanzas, but evidently written by a meaner pen. * Mentioned above, Song XL B. II. 238 YOUTH AND AGE. 'RABBED Age and Youth Cannot live together ; Youth is full of pleasance, Agfe is full of care : Youth like summer morn, Age like winter weather, Youth like summer brave, Age like winter bare : Youth is full of sport. Ages breath is short ; Youth is nimble, Age is lame : Youth is hot and bold. Age is weak and cold ; Youth is wild, and Age is tame. Age, I do abhor thee. Youth, I do adore thee ; O, my love, my love is young : Age, I do defie thee ; Oh sweet shepheard, hie thee, For methinks thou stayst too long. lO 15 20 XVII. THE FROLICKSOME DUKE, OR THE TINKER'S GOOD FORTUNE. *HE following ballad is upon the same subject as the Induction to Shakespeare's Taming of the Shreiv : whe- ther it may be thought to have suggested the hint to the dramatic Doet, or is not rather of later date, the reader must determine. The story is told* of Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy; and is thus related by an old English writer : " The said Duke, at the * By Ludov. Vives in Epist., and by Pont. Heuter. Rerum Bur- gund. 1. 4. THE FROLICKSOME DUKE. 239 marriage of Eleonora, sister to the king of Portugall, at Bruges in Flanders, which was solemnised in the deepe of winter ; when as by reason of unseasonable weather he could neither hawke nor hunt, and was now tired Anth cards, dice, &c. and such other domestick sports, or to see ladies dance ; with some of his courtiers, he would in the evening walke disguised all about the towne. It so fortuned, as he was walking late one night, he found a countrey fellow dead drunke, snorting on a bulke ; he caused his followers to bring him to his palace, and there stripping him of his old clothes, and att}Ting him after the court fashion, when he wakened, he and they were all ready to attend upon his excellency, and persuade him that he was some great Duke. The poor fellow admiring how he came there, was served in state all day long : after supper he saw them dance, heard musicke, and all the rest of those court- like pleasures : but late at night, when he was well tipled, and again fast asleepe, they put on his old robes, and so conveyed him to the place, where they first found him. Now the fellow had not made them so good sport the day before, as he did now, when he returned to himself: all the jest was to see how he looked upon it. In conclusion, after some little admiration, the poore man told his friends he had seen a vision ; constantly believed it ; would not othen\ise be persuaded, and so the jest ended." Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, pt. ii. sect. 2. Memb. 4, 2nd ed. 1624, fol. This ballad is given from a black-letter copy in the Pepys Col- lection, which is intitled as above. " To the tune of Fo7id Boy:' [The story of this ballad is of Eastern origin, and is the same as the tale of the Sleeper aivakened in the Arabian Nights. The story crops up in many places, some of which are pointed out in Prof, Child's English and Scottish Ballads (vol. viii. p. 54). The question, however, of its origin is not of immediate interest in the discussion of Shakspere's plots, because the author of the old play, Taming of a Shrcii', had already used the subject and named the tinker Slie, so that we have not far to seek for Shakspere's original.] [OW as fame does report a young duke keeps a court, One that please his fancy with froHcksome sport : But amoncrst all the rest, here is one I protest, Which will make you to smile when you hear the true jest : 240 THE FROLICKSOME DUKE. A poor tinker he found, lying drunk on the ground, s As secure in a sleep as if laid in a swound. The duke said to his men, William, Richard, and Ben, Take him horrie to my palace, we'll sport with him then. O'er a horse he was laid, and with care soon convey'd To the palace, altho' he was poorly arrai'd : lo Then they stript off his cloaths, both his shirt, shoes and hose. And they put him to bed for to take his repose. Having pull'd off his shirt, which was all over durt, They did give him clean holland, this was no great hurt : On a bed of soft down, like a lord of renown, 15 They did lay him to sleep the drink out of his crown. In the morning when day, then admiring he lay. For to see the rich chamber both gaudy and gay. 'Now he lay something late, in his rich bed of state. Till at last knights and squires they on him did wait ; 20 And the chamberling bare, then did Hkewise declare, He desir'd to know what apparel he'd ware : The poor tinker amaz'd, on the gentleman gaz'd, And admired how he to this honour was rais'd. Tho' he seem'd something mute, yet he chose a rich suit, 25 Which he straitways put on without longer dispute ; With a star on his side, which the tinker offt ey'd, And it seem'd for to swell him ' no ' little with pride ; For he said to himself. Where is Joan my sweet wife ? Sure she never did see me so fine in her life. 3° From a convenient place, the right duke his good grace Did observe his behaviour in every case To a garden of state, on the tinker they wait, Trumpets sounding before him : thought he, this is great : THE FROLICKSOME DUKE. 241 Where an hour or two, pleasant walks he did view, 35 With commanders and squires in scarlet and blew. A fine dinner was drest, both for him and his guests, He was plac'd at the table above all the rest, In a rich chair ' or bed,' lin'd witli fine crimson red, With a rich golden canopy over his head : 40 As he sat at his meat, the musick play'd sweet, With the choicest of singing his joys to compleat. While the tinker did dine, he had plenty of wine, Rich canary with sherry and tent superfine. Like a right honest soul, faith, he took off his bowl, 45 Till at last he beo^an for to tumble and roul From his chair to the floor, where he sleeping did snore, Beinof seven times drunker than ever before. & Then the duke did ordain, they should strip him amain. And restore him his old leather garments again : 50 'Twas a point next the worst, yet perform it they must. And they carry'd him strait, where they found him at first ; Then he slept all the night, as indeed well he might ; But when he did waken, his joys took their flight. For his glory ' to him ' so pleasant did seem, 55 That he thought it to be but a meer golden dream ; Till at length he was brought to the duke, where he sought For a pardon, as fearing he had set him at nought ; But his highness he said, Thou'rt a jolly bold blade. Such a frolick before I think never was plaid. 60 Thc-n his highness bespoke him a new suit and cloak, Which he gave for the sake of this frolicksome joak; Nay, and five-hundred pound, with ten acres of ground, Thou shalt never, said he, range the counteries round, R 242 THE FROLICKSOME DUKE. Crying old brass to mend, for I'll be thy good friend, 65 Nay, and Joan thy sweet wife shall my duchess attend. Then the tinker reply'd, What! must Joan my sweet bride Be a lady in chariots of pleasure to ride ? Must we have gold and land ev'ry day at command ? Then I shall be a squire I well understand : 70 Well I thank your good grace, and your love I em- brace, I was never before in so happy a case. XVIII. THE FRIAR OF ORDERS GRAY. ISPERSED . thro' Shakespeare's plays are innumerable Httle fragments of ancient ballads, the entire copies of which could not be recovered. Many of these being of the most beautiful and pathetic simplicity, the Editor was tempted to select some of them, and with a few supplemental stanzas to connect them together, and form them into a little tale^ which is here submitted to the reader's candour. One small fragment was taken from Beaumont and Fletcher. [Ritson exhibits a bit of grim humour in his Anciejit Songs, vol.' ii. ed. 1829, p. 64, where he prints a parody of Pe7-cy's Friar of Orders Gray, under the title of iht/ovial Tmker, and prefixes to it the exact words that Percy uses above. The parody commences — " It was a jovial tinker, All of the north countrie. As he walk'd forth, along the way He sung right merrily."] T was a friar of orders gray Walkt forth to tell his beades ; And he met with a lady faire Clad in a pilgrime's weedes. FRIAR OF ORDERS GRAY. 243 Now Christ thee save, thou reverend friar, 5 I pray thee tell to me, If ever at yon holy shrine ]\Iy true love thou didst see. And how should I know your true love From many another one ? 10 O by his cockle hat, and staff, And by his sandal shoone.* But chiefly by his face and mien, That were so fair to view ; His flaxen locks that sweetly curl'd, 15 And eyne of lovely blue. O lady, he is dead and gone ! Lady, he's dead and gone ! And at his head a green grass turfe, And at his heels a stone. 20 Within these holy cloysters long He languisht, and he dyed. Lamenting of a ladyes love, And 'playning of her pride. Here bore him barefac'd on his bier 25 Six proper youths and tall, And many a tear bedew'd his grave Within yon kirk-yard wall. And art thou dead, thou gentle youth ! And art thou dead and gone ! 30 And didst thou dye for love of me ! Break, cruel heart of stone ! * These are the distinguishing marks of a pilgrim. The chief places of devotion being beyond sea, the pilgrims were wont to put cockle-shells in their hats to denote the intention or performance of their devotion. Warb. Shakesp. vol. viii., p. 224. 244 THE FRIAR OF O weep not, lady, weep not soe ; Some ghostly comfort seek : Let not vain sorrow rive thy heart, 35 Ne teares bedew thy cheek. O do not, do not, holy friar. My sorrow now reprove ; For I have lost the sweetest youth. That e'er wan ladyes love. 4-0 And nowe, alas ! for thy sad losse, I'll evermore weep and sigh ; For thee I only wisht to live. For thee I wish to dye. Weep no more, lady, weep no more, 45 Thy sorrowe is in vaine : For violets pluckt the sweetest showers Will ne'er make grow againe. Our joys as winged dreams doe fiye, Why then should sorrow last ? 50 Since grief but aggravates thy losse. Grieve not for what is past. O say not soe, thou holy friar ; I pray thee, say not soe : For since my true-love dyed for mee, 55 'Tis meet my tears should flow. And will he ne'er come again ? Will he ne'er come again ? Ah ! no, he is dead and laid in his grave, For ever to remain. 60 His cheek was redder than the rose ; The comliest youth was he ! But he is dead and laid in his grave : - Alas, and woe is me ! ORDERS GRAY. 245 Sigh no more, lady, sigh no more, 65 Men were deceivers ever : One foot on sea and one on land, v To one tiling constant never. Hadst thou been fond, he had been false, And left thee sad and heavy ; 70 For young men ever were fickle found, Since summer trees were leafy. Now say not so, thou holy friar, I pray thee say not soe ; My love he had the truest heart : 75 O he was ever true ! And art thou dead, thou much-Iov'd youth, And didst thou dye for mee ? Then farewell home ; for ever-more A pilgrim I will bee. 80 But first upon my true-loves grave My weary limbs I'll lay, And thrice I'll kiss the green-grass turf, That wraps his breathless clay. Yet stay, fair lady ; rest awhile 85 Beneath this cloyster wall : See through the hawthorn blows the cold wind. And drizzly rain doth fall. O stay me not, thou holy friar ; O stay me not, I pray ; 90 No drizzly rain that falls on me, Can wash my fault away. Yet sta)', fair lady, turn again. And dry those pearly tears ; For see beneath tliis gown of gray 95 Thy owne true-love appears. 246 FRIAR OF ORDERS GRAY, Here forc'd by grief, and hopeless love, These holy weeds I sought ; And here amid these lonely walls To end my days I thought. ^ loo But haply for my year of grace * Is not yet past away, Might I still hope to win thy love, No longer would I stay. Now farewell grief, and welcome joy 105 Once more unto my heart ; For since I have found thee, lovely youth, We never more will part. *^* As the foregoing song has been thought to have suggested to our late excellent Poet Dr. Goldsmith, the plan of his beautiful ballad of Edwin and Emma (first printed in his Vicar of Wakefield') it is but justice to his memory to declare, that his poem was written first, and that if there is any imitation in the case, they will be found both to be indebted to the beautiful old ballad Gentle Herds- man, &c. printed in the second volume of this Work, which the Doctor had much admired in manuscript, and has finely improved. See vol. ii. book i. song xiv. ver. 37. The year of probation, or noviciate. THE END OF THE SECOND BOOK. \ RELIOUES OF ANCIENT POETRY, ETC. SERIES THE FIRST. BOOK III. ^=^P2^ I. THE MORE MODERN BALLAD OF CHEVY CHACE. ' T the beginning of this volume we gave the old original Song of Chrvy Chacc. The reader has here the more improved edition of that fine heroic ballad. It will aftbrd an agreeable entertainment to the curious to compare them together, and to see how far the latter bard has ex- celled his predecessor, and where he has fallen short of him. For tho' he has every where improved the versification, and generally the sentiment and diction; yet some few passages retain more dignity in the ancient copy ; at least the obsoleteness of the style serves as a veil to hide whatever might appear too familiar or vul- gar in them. Thus, for instance, the catastrophe of the gallant Witherington is in the modem copy exprest in terms which never fail c-tt present to excite ridicule : whereas in the original it is re- lated with a plain and pathetic simplicity, that is hable to no such unlucky effect : See the stanza in page 32, which, in modern ortho- graphy, &:c. would run thus. " For Witherington my heart is woe, That ever he slain should be : For when his legs were hewn in two, He knelt and fought on his knee." So again the stanza which describes the fall of Montgomery is somewhat more elevated in the ancient copy : "The dint it was both sad and sore, He on Montgomery set : The swan-feathers his arrow bore With his hearts blood were wet." V- Z^- We might also add, that the circumstances of the battle are more clearly conceived and the several incidents more distinctly 250 MODERN BALLAD marked in the old original, than in the improved copy. It is well known that the ancient English weapon was the long bow, and that this nation excelled all others in archery ; while the Scottish warriours chiefly depended on the use of the spear : this charac- teristic difference never escapes our ancient bard, whose description of the first onset is to the follomng effect : " The proposal of the two gallant earls to determine the dispute by single combat being over-ruled; the English, says he, who stood with their bows ready bent, gave a general discharge of their arrows, which slew seven score spearmen of the enemy .- but, not- withstanding so severe a loss, Douglas like a brave captain kept his ground. He had divided his forces into three columns, who, as soon as the English had discharged the first volley, bore down upon them with their spears, and breaking through their ranks reduced them to close fighting. The archers upon this dropt their bows and had recourse to their swords, and there followed so sharp a conflict, that multitudes on both sides lost their lives." In the midst of this general engagement, at length, the two great earls meet, and after a spirited rencounter agree to breathe; upon which a parley ensues, that would do honour to Homer himself. Nothing can be more pleasingly distinct and circumstantial than this : whereas, the modern copy, tho' in general it has great merit, is here unluckily both confused and obscure. Indeed the original words seem here to have been totally misunderstood. " Yet bydys the yerl Douglas upon the Beiit" evidently signifies, " Yet the earl Douglas abides in the Field:" whereas the more modern bard seems to have understood by Bent, the inclination of his mind, and accordingly runs quite off from the subject* : " To drive the deer with hound and horn Earl Douglas had the bent." v. 109. One may also observe a generous impartiality in the old ori- ginal bard, when in the conclusion of his tale he represents both nations as quitting the field without any reproachful reflection on either : though he gives to his own countrymen the credit of being the smaller number. " Of fifteen hundred archers of England Went away but fifty and three ; Of twenty hundred spearmen of Scotland, But even five and fifty." p. 32. * In the present Edition, instead of the unmeaning lines here censured, an insertion is made of four stanzas modernized from the ancient copy. OF CHEVY CHACE. 251 He attributes Flight to neither party, as hath been done in the modem copies of this ballad, as well Scotch as English. For, to be even ^vith our latter bard, who makes the Scots X.o flee^ some ' re\iser of North Britain has turned his own arms against him, and printed an edition at Glasgow, in which the lines are thus trans- posed : "Of fifteen hundred Scottish speirs Went hame but fifty-three : Of twenty hundred Englishmen Scarce fifty-five did flee." And to countenance this change he has suppressed the two stanzas between ver. 240 and ver. 249. — From that Fldition I have here reformed the Scottish names, which in the modern English ballad appeared to be corrupted. When I call the present admired ballad modern, I only mean that it is comparatively so ; for that it could not be WTit much later than the time of Q. Elizabeth, I think may be made appear ; nor yet does it seem to be older than the beginning of the last centur}'.* Sir Philip Sidney, when he complains of the antiquated phrase of Chciy Chase, could never have seen this improved copy, the language of which is not more ancient than that he himself used. It is probable that the encomiums of so admired a writer excited some bard to revise the ballad, and to free it from those faults he had objected to it. That it could not be much later than that time, appears from the phrase doleful dumps : which in that age carried no ill sound -with it, but to the next generation became ridiculous. We have seen it pass uncensured in a sonnet that was at that time in request, and where it could not fail to have been * A late \\Titer has started a notion that the more modern copy " was \\Titten to be sung by a party of English, headed by a Doug- las in the year 1524; which is the true reason why, at the same time that it gives the advantage to the English soldiers above the Scotch, it gives yet so lovely and so manifestly superior a character to the Scotch commander above the English." See Sa/s Essay on tlie Numbers of Paradise Lost, 4to. 1745, p. 167. This appears to me a groundless conjecture : the language seems too^modern for the date above-mentioned ; and, had it been jjrinted even so early as Queen Elizabeth's reign, 1 think I should have met with some copy wherein the first line would have been, *' God prosper long our noble queen," as was the case with the Blind Beggar oi Bednal Green; see vol. ii. book ii. No. x. ver. 23. 252 MODERN BALLAD taken notice of, had it been in the least exceptionable : see above, book ii. song v. ver. 2. Yet, in about half a century after, it was become burlesque. Vide Hudibras, Part I. c. 3, v. 95. This much premised, the reader that would see the general beauties of this ballad set in a just and striking light, may consult the excellent criticism of Mr. Addison.* With regard to its subject : it has already been considered in page 20. The conjectures there offered will receive confirmation from a passage in the Me??ioirs of Carey Earl of Monmouth, 8vo. 1759, p. 165 ; whence we learn that it was an ancient custom with the borderers of the two king- doms, when they were at peace, to send to the Lord Wardens of the opposite Marches for leave to hunt within their districts. If leave was granted, then towards the end of summer they would come and hunt for several days together "with \!ci.€ix grey-hotmds for deer : " but if they took this liberty unpermitted, then the Lord Warden of the border so invaded, would not fail to interrupt their sport and chastise their boldness. He mentions a remarkable in- stance that happened while he was Warden, when some Scotch gentlemen coming to hunt in defiance of him, there must have ensued such an action as this of Chevy Chace, if the intruders had been proportionably numerous and well-armed; for, upon their being attacked by his men at arms, he tells us, " some hurt was done, tho' he had given especiall order that they should shed as little blood as possible." They were in effect overpowered and taken prisoners, and only released on their promise to abstain from such licentious sporting for the future. Since the former impression of these volumes hath been pub- lished, a new edition of Collins'' s Peerage, 1779, &c., 9 Vols. 8vo. which contains, in volume ii. p. 334, an historical passage, which may be thought to throw considerable hght on the subject of the preceding ballad : viz. "In' this . . . year, 1436, according to Hector Boethius, was fought the Battle of Pepperden, not far from the Cheviot Hills, between the Earl of Northumberland (lid Earl, son of Hotspur,) and Earl William Douglas, of Angus, Avith a small army of about four thousand men each, in which the latter had the advantage. As this seems to have been a private conflict between these two great chieftains of the Borders, rather than a national war, it has been thought to have given rise to the celebrated- old Ballad of Chevy-Chase; which, to render it more pathetic and interesting, has been heightened with tragical incidents wholly fictitious." See RidpatKs Border Hist. 4to, p. 401. - The following text is given from a copy in the Editor's folio MS. In the Spectator, Nos. 70, 74. OF CHEVY CHACE. 253 compared \nth two or three others printed in black-letter. — In the second volume of Drydcti's Misailanics may be found a translation of Chevy-Chace into Latin rhymes. The translator, Mr. Henry Bold, of New College, undertook it at the command of Dr. Comjv ton, bishop of London ; wlio thought it no derogation to his epis- copal character, to avow a fondness for this excellent old ballad. See the preface to Bald's Latin Songs, 1685, 8vo. [The folloA\'ing version varies in certain particulars from the one in the MS. folio (ed. Hales and Furnivall, 1867, vol. ii. p. i), and the most important variations are noted at the foot of the page. Some of the alterations in the arrangement of the words are im- provements, but others are the reverse, for instance verses 129-132. Percy follows the copy printed in the Collection of Old Ballads, 1723 (vol. i. p. 108), much more closely than the MS.] OD prosper long our noble king, Our lives and safetyes all ! A woefull hunting- once there did In Chevy-Chace befall ; To drive the deere with hound and home, s Erie Percy took his way ; The child may rue that is unborne, The hunting of that day. The stout Erie of Northumberland A vow to God did make, 10 His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three summers days to take ; The cheefest harts in Chevy-Chace To kill and beare away. These tydings to Erie Douglas came, 15 In Scottland where he lay : [Vcr. 3. there was, f. MS. V. 6. took the way, f. MS. ] 254 MODERN BALLAD Who sent Erie Percy present word, He wold prevent his sport. The English Erie, not fearing that, Did to the woods resort 20 With fifteen hundred bow-men bold ; All chosen men of might, Who knew full well in time of neede To ayme their shafts arright. The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran, 25 To chase the fallow deere : On munday they began to hunt. Ere day-light did appeare ; And long before high noone they had An hundred fat buckes slaine ; 30 Then having dined, the drovyers went To rouze the deare againe. The bow-men mustered on the hills, Well able to endure ; Theire backsides all, with speciall care, 35 That day were guarded sure. The hounds ran swiftly through the woods. The nimble deere to take,* Ver. 36. That they were, f. MS. * The Chiviot Hills and circumjacent wastes are at present void of deer, and almost stript of their woods : but formerly they had enough of both to justify the description attempted here and in the Ancient Ballad of Chevy-Chase. Leland, in the reign of Hen. VIH. thus describes this county: "In Northumberland, as I heare say, be no Forests, except Chivet Hills ; where is much Brushe- Wood^ and some Okke ; Grownde ovargrowne with Linge, and some with Mosse. I have harde say that Chivet Hilles stretchethe XX miles. There is greate Plente oi Redde-Dere, and Roo-Bukkes." Itin. vol. vii. page 56. — This passage, which did not occur when pages 40, 42 were printed off, confirms the accounts there given of the Stagge and the Roe. OF CHEVY CHACE. 255 That with their cr^^es the hills and dales An eccho shrill did make. 40 Lord Percy to the quarry ^ went, To view the slaughter'd deere ; Quoth he, Erie Douglas promised This day to meet me heere : But if I thought he wold not come, 45 Noe longer wold I stay. With that, a brave younge gentleman Thus to the Erie did say : Loe, yonder doth Erie Douglas come, His men in armour bright ; 50 Full twenty hundred Scottish speres All marching in our sight ; All men of pleasant Tivydale, Fast by the river Tweede : cease your sports, Erie Percy said, 55 And take your bowes with speede ; And now with me, my countrymen. Your courage forth advance ; For there was never champion yett, In Scotland or in F" ranee, 60 That ever did on horsebacke come, But if my hap'^ it were, 1 durst encounter man for man, With him to break a spere. Erie Douglas on his milke-white stecde, 65 Most like a baron bold. Rode formost of his company, Whose armour shone like <^old. [Vcr. 42. the tender deere, f. MS. ' slaughtered game. - fortune] 256 MODERN BALLAD Show me, sayd hee, whose men you bee, That hunt soe boldly heere, 70 That, without my consent, doe chase And kill my fallow-deere. The first man that did answer make. Was noble Percy hee ; Who sayd. Wee list not to declare, 75 Nor shew whose men wee bee : Yet wee will spend our deerest blood, Thy cheefest harts to slay. Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe, And thus in rage did say, 80 Ere thus I will out-braved bee. One of us two shall dye : I know thee well, an erle thou art ; Lord Percy, soe am I. But trust me, Percy, pittye it were, 85 And great offence to kill Any of these our guiltlesse men. For they have done no ill. Let thou and I the battell trye, And set our men aside. 90 Accurst bee [he], Erie Percy sayd, By whome this is denyed. Then stept a gallant squier forth, Witherington was his name. Who said, I wold not have it told 95 To Henry our king for shame, That ere my captaine fought on foote. And I stood looking on. You bee two erles, sayd Witherington, And I a squier alone : 100 [Ver. 92. it is, f. MS. V. 98. I stand, f. MS.] OF CHEVY CHACE. 257 He doe the best that doe I may, While I have power to stand : While I have power to weeld my sword, He fieht with hart and hand. 105 no Our English archers bent their bowes, Their harts were orood and trew ; Att the first flio-ht of arrowes sent, Full four-score Scots they slew. *[Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent/ As Chieftain stout and crood. As valiant Captain, all unmov'd The shock he firmly stood. His host he parted had in three, As Leader ware and try'd, As soon his spearmen on their foes 115 Bare down on every side. Throughout the English archery They dealt full many a wound : But still our valiant Englishmen All firmly kept their ground : 120 And throwing strait their bows away, They grasp'd their swords so bright : And now sharp blows, a heavy shower, On shields and helmets light.] * The 4 stanzas here inclosed in brackets, which are borrowed chiefly from the ancient copy, are offered to the reader instead of the following lines, which occur in the Editor's folio MS. To drive the deere with hound and home, Douglas bade on the bent ; Two captaines moved with mickle might Their speres to shivers went. [Vcr. 105. bend their bowes, f. MS. 1 f^eld.] S 258 MODERN BALLAD They closed full fast on everye side, 125 Noe slacknes there was found; And many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground. O Christ ! it was a griefe to see, And likewise for to heare, * 130 The cries of men lying in their gore, And scattered here and there. At last these two stout erles did meet, Like captaines of great might : Like lyons wood,^ they layd on lode, 135 And made a cruell fieht : "t5' They fought untill they both did sweat, With swords of tempered Steele ; Until the blood, like drops of rain. They trickling downe did feele. 140 Yeeld thee, O Percy, Douglas sayd ; In faith I will thee bringe. Where thou shalt high advanced bee By James our Scottish king : Thy ransome I will freely give, 14.5 And this report of thee, Thou art the most couragious knight, That ever I did see. [Ver. 129-132. This stanza in the MS. is far superior to the poor I one in the text. " O Christ ! it was great greeve to see how eche man chose his spere and how the blood out of their brests Did gush like water cleare." 1 furious.] OF CHEVY CHACE. 259 Noe, Douglas, quoth Erie Percy then, Thy proffer I doe scorne ; 150 I will not yeelde to any Scott, That ever yett was borne. With that, there came an arrow keene Out of an English bow. Which struck Erie Douglas to the heart, 155 A deepe and deadlye blow : Who never spake more words than these, Fight on, my merr}^ men all ; For why, my life is at an end ; Lord Percy sees my fall. 160 Then leaving liffe, Erie Percy tooke The dead man by the hand ; And said, Erie Douglas, for thy life Wold I had lost my land. O Christ ! my verry hart doth bleed 165 With sorrow for thy sake ; For sure, a more redoubted knight Mischance cold never take. A knight amono^st the Scotts there was, Which saw Erie Douglas dye, 170 Who streight in wrath did vow revenge Upon the Lord Percye : Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd, Who, with a spere most bright, Well-mounted on a gallant steed, 175 Ran fiercely through the fight ; [Ver. 155. who scorkc Eric Douglas on the brcst, f. MS. V. 157. who never say d, f. MS. V. 163. who said, Erie Dowglas, for thy sake, f. MS. | 26o MODERN BALLAD And past the English archers all, Without all dread or feare ; And through Earl Percyes body then He thrust his hateful! spere ; iSo With such a vehement force and might He did his body gore, The staff ran through the other side A large cloth-yard, and more. So thus did both these nobles dye, 185 Whose courage none could staine : An English archer then perceiv'd The noble erle was slaine ; He had a bow bent in his hand, Made of a trusty tree ; 190 An arrow of a cloth-yard long Up to the head drew hee : Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye, So right the shaft he sett, The grey goose-winge that was thereon, 195 In his harts bloode was wett. ' This fight did last from breake of day, Till setting of the sun ; For when they rung the evening-bell,* The battel scarce was done. 200 With stout Erie Percy, there was slaine Sir John of Egerton,f * Sc. the Curfew bell, usually rung at 8 o'clock, to which the moderniser apparently alludes, instead of the "Evensong Bell," or Bell for vespers, of the original author before the Reformation. See p. 31, Ver. 97. f For the surnames, see the Notes at the end of the ballad. [Ver. 189. he had a good bow in his hand, f. MS. V. 192. to the hard head haled hee, f. MS.] OF CHEVY CHACE. 261 Sir Robert RatcUff, and Sir John, Sir James that bold barren : And with Sir George and stout Sir James, 205 Both knights of good account, Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slaine, Whose prowesse did surmount. For Witherington needs must I wayle, As one in doleful dumpes ; * 210 For when his leggs were smitten off, He fought upon his stumpes. And with Erie Douglas, there was slaine Sir Hugh Mountgomerye, Sir Charles Murray, that from the feeld 215 One foote wold never flee. Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too. His sisters sonne was hee ; Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd. Yet saved cold not bee. 220 And the Lord Maxwell in like case Did with Erie Douglas dye : Of twenty hundred Scottish speres. Scarce fifty-five did llye. Of fifteen hundred Englishmen, 225 Went home but fifty-three ; The rest were slaine in Chevy-Chase, Under the grecne woode tree. [Ver. 203. Sir Robert Harcliffe and Sir William, f. MS. V. 215. Sir Charles Morrcll, f. MS. V. 217. Sir Roger Hcvcr, of Ilarclille, f. MS. V, 219. Sir David LambwcU well esteem'd. J * i.e. "I, as one in deep concern, must lament." The con- .slruction here has generally been misunderstood. The old MS. reads "toofull dumpes." 262 MODERN BALLAD Next day did many widdowes come, Their husbands to bewayle ; 230 They washt their wounds in brinish teares, But all wold not prevayle. Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple gore, They bare with them away : They kist them dead a thousand times, 235 Ere they were cladd in clay. The newes was brought to Eddenborrow, Where Scottlands king did raigne. That brave Erie Douglas suddenlye Was with an arrow slaine : 240 heavy newes, King James did say, Scottland may witnesse bee, 1 have not any captaine more Of such account as hee. Like tydings to King Henry came, 245 Within as short a space. That Percy of Northumberland Was slaine in Chevy-Chese : -Isiow God be with him, said our king, Sith it will noe better bee ; 250 I trust I have, within my realme. Five hundred as good as hee : Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say, But I will vengeance take : I'll be revenged on them all, 255 For brave Erie Percyes sake. This vow full well the king perform'd After, at Humbledowne ; In one day, fifty knights were slayne. With lords of great renowne : 260 [Ver. 233. purple blood, f. MS.] OF CHEVY CHACE. 263 And of the rest, of small account, Did many thousands dye : Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chase, Made by the Erie Percy. God save our king, and bless this land 265 With plentye, joy, and peace ; And grant henceforth, that foule debate 'Twixt noblemen may cease. c£^^ The surnames in the foregoing Ballad are altered, either by accident or design, from the old original copy, and in common editions extremely corrupted. They are here rectified, as much as they could be. Thus, Ver. 202, Egcftivi.'] This name is restored (instead of Ogerion, com. ed.) from the Editor's folio MS. The pieces. in that MS. appear to have been collected, and many of them composed (among which might be this ballad) by an inhabitant of Cheshire ; who was willing to pay a compliment here to one of his countr)'- men, of the eminent family De or Of Egcrioti (so the name was first written) ancestors of the present Duke of Bridgwater : and this he could do with the more propriety, as the Percics had fomierly great interest in that county. At the fatal battle of Shrewsbur}' all the flower of the Cheshire gentlemen lost their lives fighting in the cause of Hotspur. Ver. 203, Ratcliff.'\ This was a family much distinguished in Northumberland. Edw. Raddiffc, mil. was sherift" of that count)' in the 17 of Hen. VII. and others of the same surname aftenvards. (See Fuller^ p. 313.) Sir Gcotge Ratdiff, Knt. was one of the commissioners of inclosure in 1552. (See Nidwlson, p. 330.) Of this family was the late Earl of Dcrwentwatcr, who was beheaded in 1 7 15. The Editor's folio MS. however, reads here, Sir Robert Hardiffe and Sir Williinn. 'Vhcl/ardiys were an eminent family in Cumberland. (See Fuller, p. 224.) Whether this may be thought to be the same name, I do not determine. [Ver. 262. hundreds dye, f. MS.] 264 BALLAD OF CHEVY CHACE. Ver. 204. Baron^ This is apparently altered, (not to say cor- rupted) from Hearone, in p. 32, ver. 114. Ver. 207. Raby.~\ This might be intended to celebrate one of the ancient possessors of Raby Castle, in the county of Durham. Yet it is written Rebbye, in the fol. MS. and looks like a corruption oi Rugby or Rokeby, an eminent family in Yorkshire, see pp. 32, 52, It will not be wondered that the Percies should be thought to bring followers out of that county, where they themselves were originally seated, and had always such extensive property and influence.* Ver. 215. Murray. '\ So the Scottish copy. In the com. edit, it is Carrel or Currel; and Morrell in the fol. MS. Ver. 217. Murray.'] So the Scot. edit. — The common copies read Murrel. The fol. MS. gives the hne in the following peculiar manner, " Sir Roger Heuer of Harcliffe too." Ver. 219. Lamb.'] The folio MS. has " Sir David Lambwell, well esteemed." This seems evidently corrupted from Lwdale or Liddell, in the old copy, see ver. 125. (pp. 32, 52). II. DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST. ' HESE fine moral stanzas were originally intended for a solemn funeral song, in a play of James Shirley's, in- titled, "The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses :"t no date, 8vo. — Shirley flourished as a dramatic writer early in the reign of Charles I. : but he outlived the Restoration. His death happened October 29, 1666. Mx. 72. [* See note controverting the above on p. 52. t Acted for the first time " at the Military Ground in Leicester Fields" in 1659.] DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST. 265 This little poem was \\Titten long after many of these that follow, but is inserted here as a kind of Dirge to the foregoing piece. It is said to have been a favourite song with K. Charles II. [to whom, according to Oldys, it was often sung by " old " Bo^v^llan.] "^^^^^HE orlories of our birth and state ' '^ §^ "^^^ shadows, not substantial things ; n./'^' ^"vj There is no armour against fate : ^^^^ Death lays his icy hands on kings : Scepter and crown 5 Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made ^ With the poor crooked scythe and s^Dade. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : 10 But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still. Early or late They stoop to fate, ' And must give up their murmuring breath, 15 When they pale captives creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon death's purple altar now See where the victor victim bleeds : »o All heads must come To the cold tomb. Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust. 266 THE RISING III. THE RISING IN THE NORTH. 'HE subject of this ballad is the great Northern Insur- rection in the 12th year of Elizabeth, 1569; which proved so fatal to Thomas Percy, the seventh Earl of .«™^^, Northumberland. There had not long before been a secret negotiation entered into between some of the Scottish and English nobihty, to bring about a marriage between Mary Q. of Scots, at that time a prisoner in England, and the Duke of Norfolk, a nobleman of excellent cha- racter, and firmly attached to the Protestant religion. This match was proposed to all the most considerable of the English nobility, and among the rest to the Earls of Northumberland and West- moreland, two noblemen very powerful in the North. As it seemed to promise a speedy and safe conclusion of the troubles in Scotland, with many advantages to the crown of England, they all consented to it, provided it should prove agreeable to Q. EUzabeth. The Earl of Leicester (Elizabeth's favourite) undertook to break the matter to her, but before he could find an opportunity, the_ affair had come to her ears by other hands, and she was thrown into a violent flame. The Duke of Norfolk, with several of his friends, was committed to the Tower, and summons were sent to the Northern Earls instantly to make their appearance at court. It is said that the Earl of Northumberland, who was a man of a mild and gentle nature, was dehberating with himself whether he should not obey the message, and rely upon the queen's candour and clemency, when he was forced into desperate measures by a sudden report at midnight, Nov. 14, that a party of his enemies were come to seize on his person.* The Earl was then at his house at Topcliffe in Yorkshire. When rising hastily out of bed, he withdrew to the Earl of Westmoreland, at Brancepeth, where the country came in to them, and pressed them to take arms in their own defence. They accordingly set up their standards, de- claring their intent was to restore the ancient religion, to get the succession of the crown firmly settled, and to prevent the destruc- tion of the ancient nobiUty, &c. Their common bannerf (on * This circumstance is overlooked in the ballad, t Besides this, the ballad mentions the separate banners of the two noblemen. IN THE NORTH. 267 which was displayed the cross, togedier with the five wounds of Christ) was borne by an ancient gentleman, Ricliard Norton, Esq., of Norton-cony ers ; who, with his sons (among whom, Christopher, Mamiaduke, and Thomas, are expressly named by Camden), dis- tinguished himself on this occasion. Having entered Durham, they tore the Bible, &c., and caused mass to be said there : they then marched on to Clifford-moor near \\'etherbye, where they mus- tered their men. Their intention was to have proceeded on to York, but, altering their minds, they fell upon Barnard's castle, which Sir George Bowes held out against them for eleven days. The two earls, who spent their large estates in hospitality, and were ex- tremely beloved on that account, were masters of little ready money ; the E. of Northumberland bringing with him only 8000 crowns, and the E. of Westmoreland nothing at all for the sub- sistence of their forces, they were not able to march to London, as they had at tirst intended. In these circumstances, Westmoreland began so visibly to despond, that many of his men slunk away, tho' Northumberland still kept up his resolution, and was master of the field till December 13, when the Earl of Sussex, accompanied with Lord Hunsden and others, having marched out of York at the head of a large body of forces, and being followed by a still larger army under the command of Ambrose Dudley, Earl of War- wick, the insurgents retreated northward towards the borders, and there dismissing their followers, made their escape into Scotland. Tho' this insurrection had been suppressed with so little bloodshed, the Earl of Sussex and Sir George Bowes, marshal of the army, put vast numbers to death by martial law, without any regular trial. The former of these caused sixty-three constables to be hanged at once. And the latter made his boast, that, for sixty miles in length, and forty in breadth, betwixt Newcastle and \Vetherby, there was hardly a town or village wherein he had not executed some of the inhabitants. This exceeds the cruelties practised in the West after Monmouth's rebellion : but that was not the age of tenderness and humanity. Such is the account collected from Stow, Speed, Camden, Guth- rie, Carte, and Rapin ; it agrees in most particulars with the following ballad, which was apparently the production of some northern minstrel, who was well affected to the two noblemen. It is here printed from two MS. copies, one of them in the Editor's folio collection. They contained considerable variations, out of which such readings were chosen as seemed most poetical and consonant to history. [The Northern Rebellion of 1569 has been nobly commemorated in verse. Besides the two following ballads there is the one entitled the Earlc of Westmorlande, in the folio MS. which was printed for 268 THE RISING , the first time in 1867, and also Wordsworth's matchless poem of the White Doe of Rylstone. Those readers who wish for further particulars respecting^this ill-starred insurrection, should see Mr. Hales's interesting introduction to the Earl of Westmoreland (Folio MS., ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. i. p. 292). Percy acknowledges above that he has not followed the folio MS. very closely, and his variations will be seen by comparing his ver- sion with the copy now printed at the end.] ISTEN, lively lordings all, Lithe and listen unto mee, And I will sing of a noble earle, The noblest earle in the north countrie. Earle Percy is into his garden gone, 5 And after him walkes his faire ladle :* I heard a bird sing in mine eare. That I must either fight, or flee. Now heaven forefend, my dearest lord, That ever such harm should hap to thee : 10 But goe to London to the court, And faire fall truth and honestie. Now nay, now nay, my ladye gay, Alas ! thy counsell suits not mee ; Mine enemies prevail so fast, 15 That at the court I may not bee. O goe to the court yet, good my lord. And take thy gallant men with thee : If any dare to doe you wrong, Then your warrant they may bee. ^o * This lady was Anne, daughter of Henry Somerset, E. of Worcester. IN THE NORTH. 269 Now nay, now nay, thou lady faire, The court is full of subtiltie ; And if I goe to the court, lady, Never more I may thee see. Yet goe to the court, my lord, she sayes, 25 And I myselfe will ryde wi' thee : At court then for my dearest lord, His faithfull borrowe' I will bee Now nay, now nay, my lady deare : Far lever'^ had I lose my life, 30 Than leave among my cruell toes JMy love in jeopardy and strife. But come thou hither, my little foot-page. Come thou hither unto mee, To maister Norton thou must goe , 35 In all the haste that ever may bee. Commend me to that gentleman, And beare this letter here fro mee ; And say that earnestly I praye, He will ryde in my companie. 40 One while the little foot-page went, And another while he ran ; Untill he came to his journeys end, The little foot-page never blan.'* When to that gentleman he came, 45 Down he kneeled on his knee ; And tooke the letter betwixt his hands, And lett the gentleman it see. And when the letter it was redd 7\ftore that goodl)'e compan^-e, 50 I wis, if you the truthe wold know, Tlierc was many a weeping eye. [' surety. - rather. ^ lingered.] 2 70 THE RISING He sayd, Come thither, Christopher Norton, A gallant youth thou seemst to bee ; What doest thou counsell me, my sonne, 55 Now that good erle's in jeopardy ? Father, my counselle's fair and free ; That erle he is a noble lord, And whatsoever to him you hight, I wold not have you breake your word. 60 Gramercy, Christopher, my sonne, Thy counsell well it liketh mee. And if we speed and scape with life, Well advanced shalt thou bee. Come you hither, my nine good sonnes,* 65 Gallant men I trowe you bee : How many of you, my children deare, Will stand by that good erle and mee ? Eight of them did answer make, Eight of them spake hastllie, 70 O father, till the daye we dye We'll stand by that good erle and thee. Gramercy now, my children deare. You showe yourselves right bold and brave ; And whethersoe'er I live or dye, 75 A fathers blessing you shal have. But what sayst thou, O Francis Norton, Thou art mine eldest sonn and heire : Somewhat lyes brooding in thy breast ; Whatever it bee, to mee declare. 80 * [" The Act of Attainder 13th Elizabeth, only mentions Richard Norton, the father and seven sons, and in ' a list of the rebels in the late northern rebellion, that are fled beyond the seas,' the same seven sons are named. Richard Norton, the father, was living long after the rebellion in Spanish Flanders. See Sharp's BisJwprick Garland, p. lo." — Child's Eng. and Scot. Ballads, Vol. 7, p. 87 (note).] IN THE NORTH. 271 Father, you are an aged man, Your head is white, your bearde is gray ; It were a shame at these your yeares For you to ryse in such a fray. Now fye upon thee, coward Francis, 85 Thou never learnedst this of mee : When thou wert yong and tender of age. Why did I make soe much of thee ? But, father, I will wend with you, Unarm'd and naked will I bee ; 90 And he that strikes against the crowne, Ever an ill death may he dee. Then rose that reverend gentleman, And with him came a goodlye band To join with the brave Erie Percy, 95 And all the flower o' Northumberland. With them the noble Nevill came. The erle of Westmorland was hee : At Wetherbye they mustred their host, Thirteen thousand faire to see. loo Lord Westmorland his ancyent^ raisde, The Dun Bull he rays'd on hye. And three DoQfs with orolden collars Were there sett out most royallye.* * Ver. 102. Dun Bull, &'cl\ The supporters of the Na'ilks, Earls of Westmoreland, were Two Bulls Argent, ducally collar'd Gold, armed Or, ik.c. But I have not discovered the device men- tioned in the ballad, among the badges, but newes itt came to leeue London in all they speede that euer might bee ; and word it came to our royall Queene of all the rebells in the north countrye. 14° shee turned her grace then once about, and like a royall Queene shee sware, sayes, " I will ordaine them such a breake-fast as was not in the North this 1000 yeere ! " 144 shee caused 30000 men to be made with horsse and harneis all quicklye ; and shee caused 30000 men to be made to take the rebells in the North countrye. 148 they took with them the false Erie of Warwicke, soe did they many another man ; vntill they came to yorke Castle, I-wis they neuer stinted nor blan. 1 5^ " spread thy ancyent, Erie of Westmoreland ! The halfe moone ffaine wold wee see ! " but the halfe moone is fled and gone, and the Dun bull vanished awaye ; 156 and ffrancis Nortton and his 8 sonnes are filed away most cowardlye. Ladds with mony are counted men men without mony are counted none ; 160 but hold your tounge ! why say you soe ? men wilbe men when mony is gone. ffins.] 2 79 IV. NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS. HIS ballad may be considered as the sequel of the pre- ceding. After the unfortunate Earl of Northumberland f^^^ had seen himself forsaken of his followers, he en- deavoured to withdraw into Scotland, but falling into the hands of the thievish borderers, was stript and otherwise ill- treated by them. At length he reached the house of Hector, of Harlaw, an Armstrong, with whom he hoped to lie concealed : for, Hector had engaged his honour to be true to him, and was under great obligations to this unhappy nobleman. But this faithless WTCtch betrayed his guest for a sum of money to Murray the Re- gent of Scotland, who sent him to the castle of Lough-leven, then belonging to William Douglas. All the writers of that time assure us that Hector, who was rich before, fell shortly after into poverty, and became so infamous, that to take Hector's cloak, grew into a proverb to express a man who betrays his friend. See Camden, Carleton, Holinshed, &:c. Lord Northumberland continued in the castle of Lough-leven till the year 1572 ; when James Douglas, Earl of Morton, being elected Regent, he was given up to the Lord Hunsden at Benvick, and being carried to York suffered death. As Morton's party de- pended on Elizabeth for protection, an elegant historian thinks " it was scarce possible for them to refuse putting into her hands a person who had taken up arms against her. But, as a sum of money was paid on that account, and shared between Morton and his kinsman Douglas, the former of whom, during his exile in England, had been much indebted to Northumberland's friendship, the abandoning this unhappy nobleman to inevitable destniction was deemed an ungrateful and mercenary act." Robertson's Hist. So far history coincides with this ballad, which was a])parently written by some Northern bard soon after the event. The inter- posal of the witch-lady (v. 53) is probably his own invention : yet, even this hath some countenance from history ; for about 25 years before, the Lady Jane Douglas, Lady Glamis, sister of the earl of Angus, and nearly related to Douglas of Lough-leven, had suffered 28o NORTHUMBERLAND death for the pretended crime of witchcraft ; who, it is presumed, is the Witch-lady aUuded to in verse 133. The following is selected (like the former) from two copies, which contained great variations ; one of them in the Editor's folio MS. In the other copy some of the stanzas at the beginning of this Ballad are nearly the same with what in that MS. are made to begin another Ballad on the escape of the E. of Westmoreland, who got safe into Flanders, and is feigned in the ballad to have undergone a great variety of adventures. [Percy wrote the following note on the version of this ballad in his foHo MS. "To correct this by my other copy which seems more modern. The other copy in many parts preferable to this." It will be seen by comparing the text with the foHo MS. copy, now printed at the end, that the alterations are numerous. The first three stanzas are taken with certain changes from the ballad of " The Erie of Westmoreland " (Folio MS. vol. i. p. 300). The alterations made in them are not improvements, as, for instance, the old reading of verse 2 is — " And keepe me heare in deadlye feare," . which is preferable to the Hne below — " And harrowe me with fear and dread."] OW long shall fortune faile me nowe, And harrowe ^ me with fear and dread ? How long shall I in bale^ abide, In misery my life to lead ? To fall from my bliss, alas the while ! s It was my sore and heavy e lott : And I must leave my native land, And I must live a man forgot. One gentle Armstrong I doe ken, A Scot he is much bound to mee : 10 He dwelleth on the border side, To him I'll goe right privilie. " \} harass. ^ evil.] »s BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS. 28 1 Thus did the noble Percy 'plaine, \\\\\\ a heavy heart and wel-awa)-, When he with all his orallant men On Bramham moor had lost the da}-. But when he to the Armstrongs came, They dealt with him all treacherouslye ; For they did strip that noble earle : And ever an ill death may they dye. 20 False Hector to Earl Murray sent, To shew him where his cfuest did hide : Who sent him to the Louirh-leven, With William DouMas to abide. And when- he to the Douglas came, as He halched' him riofht curteouslie : Say'd, Welcome, welcome, noble earle. Here thou shalt safelye bide with mee. When he had in Lou^di-leven been Many a month and many a day ; 30 To the regent* the lord warden f sent. That bannisht earle for to betray. He offered him great store of gold, And wrote a letter fair to see : / Saying, Good my lord, grant me my boon, 35 And yield that banisht man to mee. Earle Percy at the supper sate With many a goodly gentleman : The wylie Douglas then bespake, And thus to fiyte"^ with him began : 40 * James Douglas, Earl of Morton, elected regent of Scotland .N'ovember 24, 1572. t Of one of the English marches. Lord Hunsdcn. (/ saluted. "^ contend.] \ 282 NORTHUMBERLAND What makes you be so sad, my lord, And in your mind so sorrowfullye ? To-morrow a shootinge will bee held Among the lords of the North countrye. The butts are sett, the shooting's made, 45 And there will be great royaltye : And I am sworne into my bille,^ Thither to bring my lord Percye. I'll give thee my hand, thou gentle Douglas, And here by my true faith, quoth hee, 50 If thou wilt ryde to the worldes end, I will ryde in thy companye. And then bespake a lady faire, Mary a Douglas was her name : You shall byde here, good English lord, 55 My brother is a traiterous man. He is a traitor stout and stronge, As I tell you in privitie : For he hath tane liverance"^ of the erle,* Into England nowe to 'liver thee. 60 Now nay, now nay, thou goodly lady, The regent is a noble lord : Ne for the gold in all England, The Douglas wold not break his word. When the regent was a banisht man, 65 With me he did faire welcome find ; And whether weal or woe betide, I still shall find him true and kind. * Of the Earl of Morton, the Regent. [' sworn in writing. ^ money for deUvering you up.] BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS. 28 o Betweene England and Scotland it wold breake truce, And friends againe they wold never bee, 70 If they shold 'liver a banisht erle Was driven out of his own countrie. Alas ! alas ! my lord, she sayes, Nowe mickle is their traitorie ; Then lett my brother ryde his wayes, 75 And tell those English lords from thee, How that you cannot with him ryde, Because you are in an ile of the sea,* Then ere my brother come againe To Edenborow castle f Ile carry thee. 80 To the Lord Hume I will thee bring, He is well knowne a true Scots lord, And he will lose both land and life, Ere he with thee will break his word. Much is my woe, Lord Percy sayd, 85 When I thinki'e on my own countrie. When I thinke on the heavye happe' My friends have suffered there for mee. Much is my woe. Lord Percy sayd, And sore those wars my minde distresse ; 90 Where many a widow lost her mate. And many a child was fatherlesse. And now that I a banisht man, Shold bring such evil happe with mee. To cause my faire and noble friends 95 To be suspect of treacherie : • /. €. Lake of Leven, which hath communication with the sea. t At that time in the hands of the opposite faction. [' fortune.] 284 NORTHUMBERLAND This rives ^ my heart with double woe ; And lever had I dye this day, Than thinke a Douglas can be false, Or ever he will his guest betray. loo If you'll give me no trust, my lord. Nor unto mee no credence yield ; Yet step one moment here aside. He showe you all your foes in field. Lady, I never loved witchcraft, 105 Never dealt in privy wyle ; But evermore held the high-waye Of truth and honour, free from guile. If you'll not come yourselfe my lorde, Yet send your chamberlaine with mee; no Let me but speak three words with him, And he shall come again to thee. James Swynard with that lady went, She showed him through the weme" of her ring How many English lords there were ns Waitine for his master and him. 'i> And who walkes yonder, my good lady, So royallye on yonder greene ? O yonder is the lord Hunsden :* Alas ! he'll doe you drie and teene.' 120 And who beth yonder, thou gay ladye. That walkes so proudly him beside ? That is Sir William Drury,t shee sayd, A keene captaine hee is and tryde. * The Lord Warden of the East marches, t Governor of Berwick. \} rends. ^ hollow. ^ ill and injury.] BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS. 2S5 How many miles is itt, madamc, 125 Betwixt )-ond English lords and mee ? Marry it is thrice fifty miles, To saile to them upon the sea. I never was on English ground, Ne never sawe it with mine eye, 130 But as my book it sheweth mee, And through my ring I may descrye. My mother shee was a witch ladye. And of her skille she learned^ mee ; She wold let me see out of Lough-leven 135 What they did in London citie. But who is yond, thou lady faire, That looketh with sic an austerne^ face ? Yonder is Sir John Foster,* quoth shee, Alas ! he'll do ye sore disgrace. 140 He pulled his hatt down over his browe ; He wept; in his heart he was full of woe : And he is gone to his noble Lord, Those sorrowful tidino-s him to show. t>' Now nay, now nay, good James Swynard, £+5 ^ I may not believe that witch ladle : ^J The Douglasses were ever true, And they can ne'er prove false to mee. I have now in Lou^h-leven been The most part of these years three, 150 Yett have I never had noe outrake,^ Ne no good games that I cold see. Warden of the Middle-march. [• taught. - austere. ^ an outride or expedition.] 286 NORTHUMBERLAND Therefore I'll to yond shooting wend, As to the Douglas I have hight : ^ Betide me weale, betide me woe, 15s He ne'er shall find my promise light. He writhe^ a gold ring from his finger, And gave itt to that gay ladle : Sayes, It was all that I cold save. In Harley woods where I cold bee.* 160 And wilt thou goe, thou noble lord, Then farewell truth and honestie ; And farewell heart and farewell hand ; For never more I shall thee see. The wind was faire, the boatmen call'd, 165 And all the saylors were on borde ; Then William Douglas took to his boat. And with him went that noble lord. Then he cast up a silver wand, Says, Gentle lady, fare thee well ! 170 The lady fett^ a sigh soe deep, And in a dead swoone down shee fell. Now let us goe back, Douglas, he sayd, A sickness hath taken yond faire ladle ; If ought befall yond lady but good, 175 Then blamed for ever I shall bee. Come on, come on, my lord, he sayes ; Come on, come on, and let her bee : There's ladyes enow in Lough-leven For to cheere that gay ladle. 180 * /. e. Where I was. An ancient idiom. [^ promised. ^ twisted. ^ fetched.] BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS. 2S7 If you'll not turne yourself, my lord, Let me goe with my chamberlaine ; We will but comfort that faire lady, And wee will return to you againe. Come on, come on, my lord, he sayes, 185 Come on, come on, and let her bee : My sister is craftye, and wold beguile A thousand such as you and mee. When they had sayled * fifty myle, Now fifty mile upon the sea ; 190 Hee sent his man to ask the Douglas, When they shold that shooting see. Faire words, quoth he, they make fooles faine,' And that by thee and thy lord is seen : You may hap'^ to thinke itt soone enough, 195 Ere you that shooting reach, I ween. Jamye his hatt pulled over his browe. He thought his lord then was betray'd ; And he is to Erie Percy againe. To tell him what the Douglas sayd. 200 Hold upp thy head, man, quoth his lord ; Nor therefore lett thy courage fayle, He did it but to prove thy heart, To see if he cold make it quail. When they had other fifty sayld, 205 Other fifty mile upon the sea, Lord Percy called to Douglas himselfe, Sayd, What wilt thou nowe doe with mee ? * There is no navigable stream between Lough-Leven and the sea : but a ballad-maker is not obliged to understand geography. [' glad. 2 chance.] 288 NORTHUMBERLAND Looke that your brydle be wight/ my lord, And your horse goe swift as shipp att sea : Looke that your spurres be bright and sharpe, That you may pricke her while she'll away. What needeth this, Douglas, he sayth ; What needest thou to flyte^ with mee ? For I was counted a horseman g-ood Before that ever I mett with thee. 21 A false Hector hath my horse, Who dealt with mee so treacherouslie : A false Armstrong hath my spurres. And all the geere belongs to mee. 220 When they had sayled other fifty mile, Other fifty mile upon the sea ; They landed low by Berwicke side, A deputed ' laird ' landed Lord Percye. Then he at Yorke was doomde to dye, 225 It was, alas ! a sorrowful sight : Thus they betrayed that noble earle. Who ever was a orallant wio^ht. Ver. 224. Fol. MS. reads land, and has not the following stanza. \} strong. 2 contend.] BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS, 2S9 HE following version of the Betrayal of Northumberland is from the Folio MS. (ed. Hales and Fumivall, vol. ii. p. 218.) Now list and lithe you gentlemen, and 1st tell you the veret}e, how they haue delt with a Vanished man, driuen ou»: of his countrye. 4 when as hee came on Scottish ground as woe and wonder be them amonge, ffuU much was there traitorye the wrought the Erie of Northumberland. 8 when they were att the supper sett, beffore many goodly gentlemen the ftell a fflouting and mocking both, and said to the Erie of Northumberland, iz " What makes you be soe sad, my Lord, and in your mind soe sorrowfifuUye ? in the North of Scotland to-morrow theres a shooting, and thither thoust goe, my Lord Percye. i6 " the buttes are sett, and the shooting is made, and there is like to be great royaltye, and I am sworne into my bill thither to bring ray Lord Pearcy." to "He giue thee my land, Douglas," he sayes, "and be the faith in my bodye, if that thou wilt ryde to the worlds end, He ryde in thy companye." 24 and then bespake the good Ladye, — Marry a Douglas was her name, — " you shall byde here, good English Lord ; my brother is a traiterous man ; 28 " he is a traitor stout and stronge, as 1st tell you the veretye, for he hath tanc liuerance of the Erie, and into England he will liuor thee." y- "Now hold thy toungc, thou goodlye Ladye, and let all this talking bee ; ffor all the gold thats in Loug Leucn, william wold not Liuor mee ! '-^ U 290 NORTHUMBERLAND " it wold breake truce betweene England & Scottland, and friends againe they wold neuer bee if he shold liuor a bani[s]ht Erie was driuen out of his owne countrye." 40 " hold your tounge, my Lord," shee sayes, " there is much fifalsehood them amonge; when you are dead, then they are done, soone they will part them friends againe. 44 " if you will giue me any trust, my Lord, He tell you how you best may bee ; youst lett my brother ryde his wayes, and tell those English Lords trulye 48 " how that you cannot with them ryde because you are in an lie of the sea, then, ere my Brother come againe, to Edenborrow castle He carry thee, 52- " lie liuor you vnto the Lord Hume, and you know a trew Scothe Lord is hee, for he hath lost both Land and goods in ayding of your good bodye." 56 " Marry ! I am woe ! woman," he sayes, " that any freind fares worse for mee ; for where one saith ' it is a true tale,' then two will say it is a Lye. 60 "when I was att home in my [reahne] amonge my tennants all trulye, in my time of losse, wherin my need stoode, they came to ayd me honestlye ; 64 *' therfore I left many a child ffatherlese, and many a widdow to looke wanne ; and therfore blame nothing, Ladye, but the woefifull warres which I began." 68 " If you will giue me noe trust, my Lord, nor noe credence you will give mee, and youle come hither to my right hand, indeed, my Lord, He lett you see." 7^ saies, *' I neuer loued noe witchcraft, nor neuer dealt with treacherye, but euermore held the hye way ; alas ! that may be scene by mee ! " 76 BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS. 291 " if you will not come your selfe, my Lord, youle lett your chamberlaine goe with mee, three words that I may to him speake, and soone he shall come againe to thee." 80 when James SA\'}Tiard came that Lady before, shee let him see thorrow the weme of her ring how many there was of English lords to wayte there for his Master and him. 84 " but who beene yonder, my good Ladye, that walkes soe royallye on yonder greene ? '' " yonder is Lord Hunsden, Jamye," she saye ; " alas ! heele doe you both tree and teene !" 88 " and who beene yonder, thou gay Ladye, that walkes soe royallye him beside ? " " yond is Sir William Drurye, Jamy," shee sayd, *' and a keene Captain hee is, and tryde." 93 " how many miles is itt, thou good Ladye, betvvixt yond English Lord and mee ? " "marry thrise fifty mile, Jamy," shee sayd, " and euen to seale and by the sea : 96 " I neuer was on English ground, nor neuer see itt with mine eye, but as my witt and "vnsedome serues, and as [the] booke it telleth mee. ico " my mother, shee was a witch woman, and part of itt shee learned mee ; shee wold let me see out of Lough Leuen what they dyd in London cytye." 104 " but who is yond, thou good Layde, that comes yonder with an Osterne fface?" " yonds Sir John fforster, Jamye," shee sayd ; " methinks thou sholdest better know him then I." loS " Euen soe I doe, my goodlye Ladye, and euer alas, soe woe am I ! " he pulled his hatt ouer his eyes, and, lord, he wept soe tenderlye ! 112 he is gone to his ^Iaster againe, and euen to tell him the veretye. 292 NOR THUMBERLAND "Now hast thou beene with Marry, Jamy," he sayd, " Euen as thy tounge will tell to mee ; ii6 but if thou trust in any womans words, thou must refraine good companye." " It is noe words, my Lord," he sayes, " yonder the men shee letts mee see, 120 how many English Lords there is is wayting there for you and mee ; " yonder I see the Lord Hunsden, and hee and you is of the third degree ; 124 a greater enemye, indeed, my Lord, in England none haue yee," " and I haue beene in Lough Leven the most part of these yeeres three : 128 yett had I neuer noe out-rake, nor good games that I cold see ; " and I am thus bidden to yonder shooting by William Douglas all trulye ; 132 therfore speake neuer a word out of thy mouth That thou thinkes will hinder mee." then he writhe the gold ring of his ffingar and gaue itt to that Ladye gay ; 136 sayes, " that was a Legacye left vnto mee in Harley woods where I cold bee." " then ffarewell hart, and farewell hand, and fifarwell all good companye ! 140 that woman shall neuer beare a sonne shall know soe much of your privitye." " now hold thy tounge, Ladye," hee sayde, " and make not all this dole for mee, 144 for I may well drinke, but 1st neuer eate, till againe in Lough Leuen I bee." he tooke his boate att the Lough Leuen for to sayle now ouer the sea, 148 and he hath cast vpp a siluer wand, saies " fare thou well, my good Ladye ! " the Ladye looked ouer her left sholder ; in a dead swoone there fell shee. 152 BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS. 293 " goe backe againe, Douglas ! " he sayd, " and I will goe in thy companye, for sudden sicknesse yonder Lady has tane, and euer, alas, shee will but dye! 156 " if ought come to yonder Ladye but good, then blamed fore that I shall bee, because a banished man I am, and driuen out of my owne countrye." i6o " come on, come on, my Lord," he sayes, " and lett all such talking bee ; theres Ladyes enow in Lough Leuen, and for to cheere yonder gay Ladye." 164 " and you will not goe your selfe, my Lord, you will lett my chamberlaine goe with me ; wee shall now take our boate againe, and soone wee shall ouertake thee." 168 " come on, come on, my Lord," he sayes, " and lett now all this talking bee ! Ifor my sister is craftye enoughe for to beguile thousands such as you and mee." 172 When they had sayled fifty myle, now fifty mile vpon the sea, hee had fforgotten a message that hee shold doe in lough Leuen trulye : 176 hee asked ' how ftar it was to that shooting, that WiUiam Douglas promised me.' now faire words makes fooles faine ; and that may be scene by thy Master and thee ; i So ffor you may happen think itt soone enoughe when-euer you that shooting see." Jamye pulled his hatt now ouer his browe ; 1 wott the teares fell in his eye ; ii>4 and he is to his Master againe, and ffor to tell him the veretye : he sayes, " fayre words makes fooles faine, and that may be scene by you and mcc, J 88 ffor wcc may happen thinke itt soone enoughe whcn-cuer wee that shooting see." 294 NORTHUMBERLAND. "hold vpp thy head, Jamye," the Erie sayd, " and neuer lett thy hart fayle thee ; 192 he did itt but to prove thee with, and see how thow wold take with death trulye." when they had sayled other fifty mile, other fifty mile vpon the sea, 196 Lord Peercy called to him, himselfe, and sayd, " Douglas what wilt thou doe with mee ? " " looke that your brydle be wight, my Lord, that you may goe as a shipp att sea ; 200 looke that your spurres be bright and sharpe, that you may pricke her while sheele awaye." " what needeth this, Douglas," he sayth. " that thou needest to fifloute mee ? 204 for I was counted a horsseman good before that euer I mett with thee. " A ffalse Hector hath my horsse ; and euer an euill death may hee dye ! 208 and Willye Armestronge hath my spurres and all the geere belongs to mee." when the had sayled other fifty mile, other fifty mile vpon the sea, 212 the landed low by Bar\vicke side ; a deputed land Landed Lord Percy e. fiin[s] ] V. MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS. fHIS excellent philosophical song appears to have been famous in the sixteenth century. It is quoted by Ben Jonson in his play of Every Man out of his Huvioiir, first acted in 1599, act i. sc. i, where an impatient person says — "I am no such pil'd cynique to believe That beggery is the onely happinesse. Or, with a number of these patient fooles, To sing, ' My minde to me a kingdome is,' When the lanke hungrie belly barkes for foode." Jl/V MIND A KINGDOM IS. 295 It is here chiefly printed from a thin quarto Music book, intitled, " Psalmes, Sonets, and Songs of sadnes and pietie, made into Musicke of five parts : v\:c. By William Eyrd, one of the Gent, of the Queenes Majesties honorable Chappell. — Printed by Thomas East, &c." 4to. no date : but Ames in his Typo^:;. has mentioned another edit, of the same book, dated 15SS, which I take to have been later than this. Some improvements and an additional stanza (sc. the 5th), were had from two other ancient copies ; one of them in black letter in the Pepys Collection, thus inscribed, "A sweet and pleasant sonet, intitled, ' My Minde to me a Kingdom is.' To the tune of, In Crete, &c." Some of the stanzas in this poem were printed by Byrd separate from the rest : they are here given in what seemed the most natural order. [The longest and apparently earliest version of this favourite poem is signed " E. Dier," in MS. Rawl. Poet. 85, fol. 17 in the Bodleian Library', and Dr. Hannah* attributes it to Sir Edward Dyer, the friend of Spenser and Sidney, whose little pieces were chiefly printed in Efigland's Helicon. Sir Edward Dyer, of Sharp- ham Park, Somersetshire, was born about the year 1540. He was educated at Oxford, and afterwards was employed in several em- bassies. On the death of Sir John WoUey he was made Chancellor of the Order of the Garter, and at the same time knighted. He was an alchemist and dupe of Dr. Dee and Edward Kelly. Sir Egerton Brydges quotes from Aubrey the statement that he had four thousand pounds a year, and had fourscore thousand pounds left to him, which he wasted almost all, but Sir Egerton considers the sums almost incredible for the time. In " Posthumi or Sylvesters Remains, revived out of the ashes of that silver-tongued translatour and divine Poet Laureat," at the end of the translation of the Divine Weekes of Du Bartas, 1641, there is the following parody of this favourite poem : " A Contented Minde. " I waigh not Fortunes frowne or smile, I joy not much in earthly joyes, I seeke not state, I reake not stile, I am not fond of fancies Toyes : I rest so pleased with what I have, I wish no more, no more I crave. * \The Courtly Poets, from Ralei\:;h to Montrose. Edited by J. Hannah, D.C.L., London, 1S70. (Aldine Poets.)] 296 MY MIND TO ME " I quake not at the Thunders crack, I tremble not at noise of warre, I swound not at the newes of wrack, I shrink not at a Blazing Starre ; I feare not losse, I hope not gaine, I envie none, I none disdaine. " I see ambition never pleas'd, I see some Tantals starv'd in store, I see golds dropsie seldome eas'd, I see even Midas gape for more : I neither want, nor yet abound. Enough's a feast, content is crown'd. " I faine not friendship where I hate, I fawne not on the great (in show) I prize, I praise a meane estate, Neither too lofty nor too low : This, this is all my choice, my cheere, A minde content, a conscience cleere."] [^^^5' Y minde to me a kingdome is ; Such perfect joy therein I finde As farre exceeds all earthly blisse, That God or Nature hath assignde ; Though much I want, that most would have, 5 Yet still my mind forbids to crave. Content I live, this is my stay ; I seek no more than may suffice : I presse to beare no haughtie sway ; Look what I lack my mind supplies. 10 Loe ! thus I triumph like a king, Content with that my mind doth bring. I see how plentie surfets oft, And hastie clymbers soonest fall : I see that such as sit aloft 15 Mishap doth threaten most of all : A KINGDOM IS. 297 These get with toile, and keep with feare : Such cares my mind could never beare. No princely pompe, nor welthie store, No force to winne the victorie, -o No wylie wit to salve a sore, No shape to winne a lovers eye ; To none of these I yeeld as thrall, For why my mind despiseth all. Some have too much, yet still they crave, 25 I little have, yet seek no more : They are but poore, tho' much they have ; And I am rich with litde store : They poor, I rich ; they beg, I give ; They lacke, I lend ; they pine, 1 live. 30 I laugh not at anothers losse, I grudge not at anothers gaine ; No worldly wave my mind can tosse, I brooke that is anothers bane : I feare no foe, nor fawne on friend ; 35 I lothe not life, nor dread mine end. I joy not in no earthly blisse ; I weigh not Cresus' welth a straw ; For care, I care not what it is ; I feare not fortunes fatall law : 40 My mind is such as may not move For beautie briofht or force of love. I wish but what I have at will ; I wander not to seeke for more ; I like the plaine, I clime no hill ; 45 In greatest stormes I sitte on shore, And laugh at them that toile in vaine To get what must be lost againe. 298 MY MIND A KINGDOM IS. I kisse not where I wish to kill ; I feigne not love where most I hate ; 50 I breake no sleep to winne my will ; I wayte not at the mighties gate ; I scorne no poore, I feare no rich ; I feele no want, nor have too much. The court, ne cart, I like, ne loath ; 55 Extreames are counted worst of all : The golden meane betwixt them both. Doth surest sit, and fears no fall : This is my choyce, for why I finde. No wealth is like a quiet minde. 60 My welth is health, and perfect ease ; My conscience clere my chiefe defence : I never seeke by brybes to please, Nor by desert to give offence : Thus do I live, thus will I die ; Cs Would all did so as well as I ! VI. THE PATIENT COUNTESS. 'HE subject of this tale is taken from that entertaining Colloquy of Erasmus, intitled, " Uxor Ms^i^iyajuoe, sive Conjugium : " which has been agreeably modernized by the late Mr. Spence, in his little Miscellaneous Pub- lication, intitled, ^'' Moralities, &c. by Sir Harry Beaumont," 1753, 8vo. pag. 42. The following stanzas are extracted from an ancient poem in- titled Albion's England, written by W. Warner, a celebrated poet in the reign of Q. Elizabeth, though his name and works are now equally forgotten. The reader will find some account of him in vol. ii. book ii. song 24. I THE PATIENT COUNTESS. 299 The following stanzas are printed from the author's improved edition of his work, printed in 1602, 4to. ; the third impression of which appeared so early as 1592, in bl. let. 4to. The edition in 1602 is in thirteen books; and so it is reprinted in 1612, 4to. ; yet, in 1606, was i)ublished "A Continuance of Albion's England, by the first author, W. W. Lond. 4to. : "' this contains Books xiv. x\". xvi. There is also extant, under the name of Warner, " Syrinx, or a seven-fold Historie, pleasant, and profitable, comical, and tragical," 4to. [The title of this poem challenges comparison with Patient Grisclda, but it is in flict a totally difterent story, and as ]\Ir. Hales says, "represents rather tact and management than patience in the \\ife of an unfaithful (not a tempting and essaying) husband." The first edition of Warner's poem was published in 1586, and the numerous impressions of it prove its popularity. The full title is as follows: "Albion's England, a continued History of the same Kingdome from the Originals of the first inhabitants thereof, unto the raigne of Queen Elizabeth."] I^MPATIENCE chaungeth smoke to flame, but jelousie is hell ; Some wives by patience have reduc'd ill husbands to live well : As did the ladie of an earle, of whom I now shall tell. An earle ' there was ' had wedded, lov'd ; was lov'd, and lived lono; Full true to his fayre countesse ; yet at last he did her wrong. 5 Once hunted he untill the chace, long fasting, and the heat Did house him in a peakish graunge^ within a forest great. Where knowne and welcom'd (as the place and per- sons might afforde) Browne bread, whig,'^ bacon, curds and milke were set him on the borde. \} rude and lone country house. '^ buttermilk or sour whey.] 300 THE PATIENT COUNTESS. A cushion made of lists, a stoole halfe backed with a hoope lo Were brought him, and he sitteth down besides a sorry coupe. ^ The poore old couple wisht their bread were wheat, their whig were perry. Their bacon beefe, their milke and curds were creame, to make him merry. Meane while (in russet neatly clad, with linen white as swanne, Herselfe more white, save rosie where the ruddy colour ranne : 15 Whome naked nature, not the aydes of arte made to excell) The good man's daughter sturres to see that all were feat^ and well ; The earle did marke her, and admire such beautie there to dwell. Yet fals he to their homely fare, and held him at a feast : But as his hunger slaked, so an amorous heat increast. When this repast was past, and thanks, and welcome too ; he sayd 21 Unto his host and hostesse,in the hearing of the mayd : Yee know, quoth he, that I am lord of this, and many townes ; I also know that you be poore, and I can spare you pownes." Soe will I, so yee will consent, that yonder lasse and I 25 May bargaine for her love ; at least, doe give me leave to trye. Who needs to know it ? nay who dares into my doings First theymislike,yetatthelengthforlucrewere misled; And then the gamesome earle did wowe^ the damsell for his bed. [^ pen for poultry. ^ ni^e qj- neat. ^ pounds. ■* woo.] THE PATIENT COUNTESS. 301 He took her in his armes, as yet so coyish to be kist, 30 As mayds that know themselves belov'd, and yieldingly resist. In few, his offers were so large she lastly did consent ; With whom he lodged all that night, and early home he went. He tooke occasion oftentimes in such a sort to hunt. Whom when his lady often mist,contrary to his wont, 35 And lastly was informed of his amorous haunt else- where ; It greev'd her not a little, though she seem'd it well to beare. And thus she reasons with herselfe, some fault per- haps in me ; Somewhat is done, that so he doth : alas ! what ma)- it be ? How may I winne him to myself? he is a man, and men 40 Have imperfections ; itbehooves me pardon nature then. To checke him were to make him checke,* althouy-h hee now were chaste : A man controuled of his wife, to her makes lesser haste, If dut)' then, or daliance may prevayle to alter him ; I will be dutifulfand make my selfe for daliance trim, ^s So was she, and so lovingly did entertaine her lord, As fairer, or more faultles none could be for bed or bord. Yet still he loves his leiman,^ and did still pursue that game. Suspecting nothing less, than that his lady knew the same : Wherefore to make him know she knew, she this de- vise did frame : 50 • To check is a term in falconry, applied when a hawk stops and turns away from his proper pursuit : to check also signifies to re- prove or chide. It is in this verse used in Ijoth senses. (^ mistress.] 302 THE PATIENT COUNTESS. When long she had been wrong'd, and sought the foresayd meanes in vaine, She rideth to the simple graunge, but with a slender traine. She lighteth, entreth, greets them well, and then did looke about her : The guiltie houshold knowing her, did wish them- selves without her ; Yet, for she looked merily, the lesse they did mis- doubt^ her. 5^ When she had seen the beauteous wench (then blush- ing fairnes fairer) Such beauty made the countesse hold them both ex- cus'd the rather. Who would not bite at such a bait ? thought she : and who (though loth) So poore a wench, but gold might tempt ? sweet errors lead them both. Scarse one in twenty that had bragg'd of proffer'd gold denied, 60 Or of such yeelding beautie baulkt, but, tenne to one, had lied. Thus thought she : and she thus declares her cause of coming thether ; My lord, oft hunting in these partes, through travel, night or wether, Hath often lodged in your house; I thanke you for the same ; For why ? it doth him jolly ease to lie so neare his game. ^ 65 But, for you have not furniture beseeming such a guest, I bring his owne, and come myselfe to see his lodg- ing drest. With that two sumpters were discharg'd, in which were hangings brave, \} suspect] THE PATIENT COUNTESS, ^o^ Silke coverings, ciirtens, carpets, plate, and al such turn should have. When all was handsomly dispos'd, she prayes them to have care 70 That nothing hap in their default/ that might his health impair : And, Damsell, quoth shee, for it seemes this hous- hold is but three, And for thy parents age, that this shall chiefely rest on thee ; Do me that good, else would to God he hither come no more. So tooke she horse, and ere she went bestowed ofould good store. 7S Full little thought the countie"' that his countesse had done so ; Who now return'd from far affaires did to his sweet- heart go. No sooner sat he foote within the late deformed cote,^ But that the formall chancre of thincys his wondrinof eies did note. But when he knew those goods to be his proper goods ; though late, 80 Scarce taking leave, he home returnes the matter to debate. The countesse was a-bed, and he with her his lodging tooke ; Sir, welcome home (quoth shee) ; this night for you I did not looke. Then did he question her of such his stuffe bestowed soe. Forsooth, quoth she, because I did )our love and lodging knowe ; 85 Your love to be a proper wench, your lodging nothing lesse ; \} happen from their neglect. - earl. ^ cottage] 04 THE PATIENT COUNTESS. I held it for your health, the house more decently to dresse. Well wot I, notwithstanding her, your lordship loveth me ; • And greater hope to hold you such by quiet, then brawles, ' you ' see. Then for my duty, your delight, and to retaine your favour, 90 All done I did, and patiently expect your wonted 'haviour. Her patience, witte and answer wrought his gentle teares to fall : When (kissing her a score of times) amend, sweet wife, I shall : He said, and did it ; * so each wife her husband may' recall. vn. DOWSABELL. HE following stanzas were written by Michael Drayton, a poet of some eminence in the reigns of Q. Elizabeth, James I. and Charles I.* They are inserted in one of his Pastorals, the first edition of which bears this whimsical title, " Idea. The Shepheards Garland fashioned in nine Eglogs. Rowlands sacrifice to the nine muses. Lond. 1593-" 4to. They are inscribed with the author's name at length " To the noble and valerous gentleman master Robert Dudley, &c." It is very remarkable that when Drayton reprinted them in the first folio edit, of his works, 16 19, he had given those Eclogues so thorough a revisal, that there is hardly a line to be found the same as in the old edition. This poem had received the fewest * He was born in 1563, and died in 1631. .Biog. Brit. DOWSABELL. 305 corrections, and therefore is chiefly given from the ancient copy, where it is thus introduced by one of his Shepherds : "Listen to mee, my lovely shepheards joye, And thou shalt heare, with mirth and mickle glee, A pretie tale, which when 1 was a boy. My toothles grandame oft hath tolde to me." The author has professedly imitated the style and metre of some of the old metrical romances, particularly that of Sir Isenbras* (alluded to in v. 3), as the reader may judge from the following specimen : " Lordynges, lysten, and you shal here, &c. tt^ ^^ ^K ^ ^ Ye shall well heare of a knight, That was in warre full wyght. And doughtye of his dede : His name was Syr Isenbras, Man nobler then he was Lp'ed none with breade. He was lyvely, large, and longe, With shoulders broade, and armes stronge. That myghtie was to se : He was a hardye man, and hye. All men hym loved that hym se, For a gentyll knight was he : Harpers loved him in hall, With other minstrells all, For he gave them golde and fee," &c. This ancient legend was printed in black-letter, 4to. by Wyllyam Copland; no date.f In the Cotton Library (Calig. A 2) is a MS. copy of the same romance containing the greatest variations. They are probably two different translations of some French original. * As also Chaucer's Rhyme of Sir Topas, v. 6. t [Reprinted by Utterson. The Romance of Sir Isiimbras was printed from the MS. by Mr. Hallivvell in the T/iornton Romances (Camden Society, 1844).] 3o6 DOWSABELL. ^^^^^^ARRE in the countrey of Arden, There won'd^ a knight, hight Cassemen, As bolde as Isenbras : Feir^ was he, and eger bent. In battell and in tournament, 5 As was the good Sir Topas. He had, as antique stories tell, A daughter cleaped^ Dowsabel, A mayden fayre and free : And for she was her fathers heire, 10 Full well she was y-cond the leyre^ Of mickle curtesie. The silke well couth she twist and twine, And make the fine march-pine,^ And with the needle werke : 15 And she couth helpe the priest to say , His mattins on a holy-day, * And sing a psalme in kirke. She ware a frock of frolicke greene. Might well beseeme a mayden queene, 20 Which seemly was to see ; A hood to that so neat and fine, In colour like the colombine, Y-wrought full featously.^ Her features all as fresh above, 25 As is the grasse that growes by Dove ; And lyth^ as lasse of Kent. \} dwelt. ^ keen. ^ named. ^ she was taught the learning. ^ march-pane, a kind of biscuit. ^ dexterously. ^ gentle or tender.] DOWSABELL. 307 Her skin as soft as Lemster wooll/ As white as snow on Peakish Hull," Or swanne that swims in Trent. 30 This mayden in a morne betime Went forth, when May was in her prime. To get sweete cctywall, ' The honey-suckle, the harlocke,^ The lilly and the lady-smocke, 35 To deck her summer hall. Thus, as she wandred here and there, Y-picking of the bloomed breere, She chanced to espie A shepheard sitting on a bancke, 4.0 Like chanteclere he crowed crancke,^ And pip'd full merrilie. He lear'd° his sheepe as he him list, When he would whistle in his fist, To feede about him round ; 4S Whilst he full many a carroll sung, Untill the fields and medowes rung, And all the woods did sound. In favour this same shepheards swayne W^as like the bedlam Tamburlayne,* 50 WHiich helde prowd kings in awe : • Alluding to Tamburlainc the ^reat, or the Scythian Shepheard, 1590, 8vo. an old ranting play ascribed to Marlowe. \} Leominster, or Lemster, was long famous for its wool, and Skelton refers to " good Lemster wool " in his Elynour Rummin. - Peakish hill ; this may refer to the well-known Derbyshire mountain called the Peak. ^ herb valerian, or mountain spikenard. ^ perhaps charlock, or wild rape. ^ exultingly. * pastured. 3o8 DOWSABELL. But meeke he was as lamb mought be ; An innocent of ill as he * Whom his lewd brother slaw. The shepheard ware a sheepe-gray cloke, 55 Which was of the finest loke,^ That could be cut with sheere : His mittens were of bauzens^ skinne, His cockers^ were of cordiwin,^ His hood of meniveere.^ 60 His aule and lingell^ in a thong, His tar-boxe on his broad belt hong, His breech of coyntrie^ blewe : Full crispe and curled were his lockes, His browes as white as Albion rocks : 65 So like a lover true, And pyping still he spent the day, So merry as the popingay ; ^ Which liked Dowsabel : That would she ought, or would she nought, 70 This lad would never from her thought ; She in love-longing fell. At length she tucked up her frocke, White as a lilly was her smocke. She drew the shepheard nye ; 75 But then the shepheard pyp'd a good, That all his sheepe forsooke their foode. To heare his melodye. * Sc. Abel. \} fleece of wool. - sheepskin gloves with the wool on the inside. ^ short boots. * leather. ^ mixed fur. ^ rosined thread. " Coventry. 8 parrot.] DOWSABELL, 309 Thy sheepe, quoth she, cannot be leane, That have a jolly shepheards swayne, 80 The which can pipe so well : Yea but, sayth he, their shepheard may, If pyping thus he pine away In love of Dowsabel. Of love, fond boy, take thou no keepe,' 85 Quoth she ; looke thou unto thy sheepe, Lest they should hap to stray. Quoth he, so had I done full well, Had I not seen fayre Dowsabell Come forth to gather maye. 90 With that she gan to vaile her head, Her cheeks were like the roses red. But not a word she sayd : With that the shepheard gan to frowne, He threw his pretie pypes adowne, 95 And on the ground him layd. Sayth she, I may not stay till night, And leave my summer-hall undight,'* And all for lono- of thee. My coate,^ sayth he, nor yet my fouldc 100 Shall neither sheepe nor shepheard hould, Except thou favour mee. Sayth she, Yet lever were I dead. Then I should lose my mayden-head, And all for love of men. 105 Sayth he, Yet are you too unkind. If in your heart you cannot fmde To love us now and then. [' heed. '-' undecked. ^ cot.J 3IO DOWSABELL. And I to thee will be as kinde As Colin was to Rosalinde, no Of curtesie the flower. Then will I be as true, quoth she, As ever mayden yet might be Unto her paramour. With that she bent her snow-white knee, 115 Downe by the shepheard kneeled shee, And him she sweetely kist : With that the shepheard whoop'd for joy, Quoth he, ther's never shepheards boy That ever was so blist. 120 VIII. THE FAREWELL TO LOVE. From Beaumont and Fletcher's play, intitled The Lovei^s Progress. act iii. sc. i. :DIEU, fond love, farewell you wanton powers ; I am free again. Thou dull disease of bloud and idle hours, Bewitching pain, Fly to fools, that sigh away their time : 5 My nobler love to heaven doth climb, And there behold beauty still young. That time can ne'er corrupt, nor death destroy. Immortal sweetness by fair angels sung, And honoured by eternity and joy : 10 There lies my love, thither my hopes aspire. Fond love declines, this heavenly love grows higher. UL YSSES AND THE S YREN. 3 1 1 IX. ULYSSES AND THE SYREN, (FFORDS a pretty poetical contest bet\veen Pleasure and Honour. It is found at the end of Hymai's Triumph : a pastoral tragicomcdic, written by Daniel, and printed among his works, 4to. 1623.* Daniel, who was a contemporary of Drayton's, and is said to have been poet laureat to Queen Elizabeth, was bom in 1562, and died in 1619. Anne, Countess of Dorset, Pembroke, and Montgomery (to whom Daniel had been tutor), has inserted a small portrait of him in a full-length picture of herself, preserved at Appleby Castle, in Cum- berland. This little poem is the rather selected for a specimen of Daniel's poetic powers, as it is omitted in the later edition of his works, 2 vols. i2mo. 1 7 18. [Samuel Daniel was born in Somersetshire, and educated at Magdalen Hall, O.xford. He left college without a degree, " his geny being," according to Ant. ^ Wood, "more prone to easier and smoother subjects than in pecking and hewing at logic. " He was tutor to Lady Anne Clifford, subsequently Countess of Pem- broke, and aftenvards groom of the privy chamber to Anne, queen of James I. Browne calls him in Britannia's Pastorals, " Wel- languaged Daniel," and the union of power of thought with sweet- ness and grace of expression exhibited by him is highly praised by Southey and Coleridge. He was free from indelicacy in his writ- ings, and Fuller says of him that " he carried in his Christian and surname two holy prophets, his monitors, so to qualify his raptures that he abhorred all profaneness."] • In this edition it is collated with a copy printed at the enH of his " Tragedic of Cleopatra. London, 1607, 12 mo." 312 ULYSSES AND Syren. OME, worthy Greeke, Ulysses come, Possesse these shores with me, The windes and seas are troublesome. And here we may be free. Here may we sit and view their toyle, 5 That travaile in the deepe. Enjoy the day in mirth the while, And spend the night in sleepe. Ulysses. Faire nymph, if fame or honour were To be attain'd with ease, 10 Then would I come and rest with thee, And leave such toiles as these : But here it dwels, and here must I With danger seek it forth ; To spend the time luxuriously 15 Becomes not men of worth. Syren. Ulysses, O be not deceiv'd With that unreall name : This honour is a thing conceiv'd, And rests on others' fame. ?o Begotten only to molest Our peace, and to beguile (The best thing of our life) our rest. And give us up to toyle ! i THE SYREN. 313 Ulysses. Delicious nymph, suppose there were 25 Nor honor, nor report, Yet manHnesse would scorne to weare The time in idle sport : For toyle doth give a better touch To make us feele our joy ; 30 And ease findes tediousnes, as much As labour yeelds annoy. Syren. Then pleasure likewise seemes the shore, Whereto tendes all your toyle ; Which you forego to make it more, 35 And perish oft the while. Who may disport them diversly. Find never tedious day ; And ease may have variety. As well as action may. 40 Ulysses. But natures of the noblest frame These toyles and dangers please ; And they take comfort in the same, As much as you in ease : And with the thought of actions past 45 Are recreated still : When pleasure leaves a touch at last To shew that it was ill. Syren. That doth opinion only cause, That's out of custom bred ; 50 Which makes us many other laws, Than ever nature did. 314 ULYSSES AND THE SYREN. No widdowes waile for our delights, Our sports are without blood ; The world we see by warlike wights 55 Receives more hurt than good. Ulysses. But yet the state of things require These motions of unrest, And these great spirits of high desire Seem borne to turne them best : 60 To purge the mischiefes, that increase And all orood order mar : For oft we see a wicked peace, To be well chang'd for war. Syren. Well, well, Ulysses, then I see 65 I shall not have thee here ; And therefore I will come to thee, And take my fortune there. I must be wonne that cannot win. Yet lost were I not wonne : 70 For beauty hath created bin T' undoo or be undone. X. CUPID'S PASTIME. HIS beautiful poem, which possesses a classical elegance hardly to be expected in the age of James I. is printed from the 4th edition of Davison's Poems,* &c. 162 1. It is also found in a later miscellany, intitled, " Le Prince d' Amour," 1660, 8vo. Francis Davison, editor of the poems * See the full title in Vol. ii. Book iii. No. iv. CUPID'S PASTIME. 315 above referred to, was son of that unfortunate secretary' of state who suti'ered so much from the afi'air of Mary Q. of Scots. These poems, he tells us in his preface, were written by himself, by his brother [Walter], who was a soldier in the wars of the Low Coun- tries, and by some dear friends "anonymoi." Among them are found some pieces by Sir J. Davis, the Countess of Pembroke, Sir Philip Sidney, Spenser, and other wits of those times. In the fourth vol. of Drydcn's Miscellanies, this poem is attri- buted to Sydney Godolphin, Esq. ; but erroneously, being pro- bably written before he was born. One edit, of Davisons book was published in 1608. Godolphin was born in 1610, and died in 1642-3. Ath. Ox. ii. 23. i ^^ T chanc'd of late a shepherd swain. That went to seek his straying- sheep, Within a thicket on a plain Espied a dainty nymph asleep. Her golden hair o'erspred her face ; s Her careless arms abroad were cast ; Her quiver had her pillows place ; Her breast lay bare to every blast. The shepherd stood and gaz'd his fill ; Nought durst he do; nought durst he say ; 10 Whilst chance, or else perhaps his will. Did guide the god of love that way. The crafty boy that sees her sleep, Whom if she wak'd he durst not see ; Behind her closely seeks to creep, is Before her nap should ended bee. There come, he steals her shafts away, And puts his own into their place ; Nor dares he any longer stay, But, ere she wakes, hies thence apace. 20 3i6 CUPID'S PASTIME. Scarce was he gone, but she awakes, And spies the shepherd standing by : Her bended bow in haste she takes, And at the simple swain lets flye. Forth flew the shaft, and pierc'd his heart, 25 That to the ground he fell with pain : Yet up again forthwith he start. And to the nymph he ran amain. Amazed to see so strange a sight. She shot, and shot, but all in vain ; 30 The more his wounds, the more his might. Love yielded strength amidst his pain. Her angry eyes were great with tears, She blames her hand, she blames her skill ; The bluntness of her shafts she fears, 35 And try them on herself she will. Take heed, sweet nymph, trye not thy shaft, Each little touch will pierce thy heart : Alas ! thou know'st n5t Cupids craft ; Revenge is joy ; the end is smart. +0 Yet try she will, and pierce some bare ; Her hands were glov'd, but next to hand Was that fair breast, that breast so rare. That made the shepherd senseless stand. That breast she pierc'd ; and through that breast 45 Love found an entry to her heart ; ij At feeling of this new-come guest. Lord ! how this gentle nymph did start .-* She runs not now ; she shoots no more ; Away she throws both shaft and bow : 50 She seeks for what she shunn'd before. She thinks the shepherds haste too slow. CUPID'S PASTIME. 317 Though mountains meet not, lovers may What other lovers do, did they : The god of love sate on a tree, And laught that pleasant sight to see. 55 XI. THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE. HIS little moral poem was writ by Sir Henry Wotton, "UK^'*' ^^^^^ ^^^^ Provost of Eton in 1639. J^t. 72. It is ^ ^^^ printed from a little collection of his pieces, intitled, Jieliquuv Wotioniame, 1651, i2mo. ; compared with one or two other copies. [Ben Jonson is said to have greatly admired these verses, and to have known them by heart.] OW^ happy is he born or taught, That serveth not anothers will ; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his highest skill : W^hose passions not his masters are ; Whose soul is still prepar'd for death ; Not ty'd unto the world with care Of princes ear, or vulgar breath : Who hath his life from rumours freed ; Whose conscience is his strong retreat : Whose state can neither flatterers feed. Nor ruine make oppressors great : Who envies none, whom chance doth raise, Or vice : Who never understood How deepest wounds are given with praise ; Nor rules of state, but rules of good ; 10 15 3i8 A HAPPY LIFE. Who God doth late and early pray More of his grace than gifts to lend ; And entertaines the harmless day With a well-chosen book or friend. This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or feare to fall ; Lord of himselfe, though not of lands ; And having nothing, yet hath all. 20 XII. GILDEROY - ^^^'^ AS a famous robber, who lived about the middle of the last century, if we may credit the histories and story- books of highwaymen, which relate many improbable feats of him, as his robbing Cardinal Richelieu, Oliver Cromwell, &c. But these stories have probably no other authority than the records of Grub-street. At least the Gilderoy, who is the hero of Scottish songsters, seems to have lived in an earlier age ; for, in Thompson's' Orpheus Caledonius, vol. ii. 1733, 8vo. is a copy of this ballad, which, tho' corrupt and interpolated, contains some lines that appear to be of genuine antiquity : in these he is represented as contemporary with Mary Q. of Scots : ex. gr. "The Queen of Scots possessed nought. That my love let me want : For cow and ew he to me brought, And een whan they were scant. All these did honestly possess He never did annoy. Who never fail'd to pay their cess To my love Gilderoy." These lines perhaps might safely have been inserted among the following stanzas, which are given from a written copy, that appears to have received some modern corrections. Indeed, the common popular ballad contained some indecent luxuriances that required the pruning-hook. GILDEROY. 319 [The subject of this ballad was a ruffian totally unworthy of the poetic honours given to him, and the poem itself can in no way be looked upon as historic. To mention but one instance of its departure from truth — the song is said to have been written by a young woman of a superior station in society who had been induced to live with the freebooter, but the fact was that one thousand marks having been offered for his apprehension, he was betrayed by his mistress Peg Cunningham, and captured after killing eight of the men sent against him, and stabbing the woman. He was one of the proscribed clan Gregor, and a notorious lifter of cattle in the Highlands of Perthshire for some time before 1636. In February of that year seven of his accompHces were taken, tried, condemned, and executed at Edinburgh. These men were apprehended chiefly through the exertions of the Stewarts of Athol, and in revenge Gilderoy burned several of the houses belonging to the Stewarts. In a few months, however, he was captured, as before mentioned, and in July, 1636, was hanged with five accomplices at the Gallowlee, between Leith and Edin- burgh. As a mark of unenviable distinction, Gilderoy was hanged on a gallows higher than the rest. It is curious that this wretched miscreant, who robbed the poor and outraged all women who came in his way, should have become popular in the south of Britain. His adventures, with the various details noticed above by Percy, are related in Captain Alexander Smith's History of Hig/ncaymen, &c., 17 19, and in Johnson's Lives and Exploits of Higincaymcn, 1734. The earliest known version of this song was printed in London in 1650, and another is included in Westminster Drollery, 1671. The latter consists of five stanzas, the first being : " Was ever grief so great as mine Then speak dear beam, I prethee, That thus must leave my Gilderoy, O my benison gang with thee. Good speed be with you then Sir she said For gone is all my joy : And gone is he whom I love best, My handsome Gilderoy." The second stanza is Percy's fifth, with some of the ''luxuriances" he refers to. The third stanza is a variation of Percy's first. " Now Gilderoy was bonny boy Would needs to th' King be gone With his silken garters on his legs, And the roses on his shoone. 320 GILDEROY. But better he had staid at home With me his only joy, For on a gallow tree they hung My handsome Gilderoy." The fourth stanza is a variety of Percy's eleventh, and the fifth of his ninth. There is another version of this song in the Collection of Old Ballads, 1723 (vol. i.), entitled " The Scotch Lover's Lamentation, or Gilderoy's last farewell," which contains some few "luxuriances," but is on the whole superior to the " improved " one here printed. This was altered by Lady Wardlaw, who added the stanzas be- tween brackets, besides the one quoted above by Percy. Gilderoy is now, perhaps, better known by Campbell's song than by this ballad. The name is a corruption of the Gaelic gillc roy, red-haired boy.] ILDEROY was a bonnie boy, Had roses tuW his shoone, His stockings were of silken soy,^ Wi' garters hanging doune : It was, I weene, a comeHe sight, s To see sae trim a boy ; He was my jo^ and hearts deHght, My handsome Gilderoy. Oh ! sike twa charming een he had, A breath as sweet as rose, lo He never ware a Highland plaid. But costly silken clothes ; He gain'd the luve of ladies gay, Nane eir tull him was coy : Ah ! wae is mee ! I mourn the day 15 For my dear Gilderoy. [^ for ////, to. - silk. 3 sweetheart. 3^1 20 GILDEROY. My Gilderoy and I were born, Baith in one toun together. We scant were seven years beforn, We gan to luve each other ; Our dadies and our mammies thay, Were fill'd wi' mickle joy, To think upon the bridal day, Twixt me and Gikieroy. For Gilderoy that luve of mine, 25 Gude faith, I freely bought A wedding sark^ of holland fine, Wi' silken flowers wrought : And he gied me a wedding ring, Which I receiv'd wi' joy, 30 Nae lad nor lassie eir could sing, Like me and Gilderoy. Wi' mickle joy we spent our prime, Till we were baith sixteen. And aft we past the langsome time, 35 Among the leaves sae green ; Aft on the banks we'd sit us thair, And sweetly kiss and toy, Wi' garlands gay wad deck my hair My handsome Gilderoy. 40 [Oh ! that he still had been content, Wi' me to lead his life ; But, ah ! his manfu' heart was bent, To stir in feates of strife : And he in many a venturous deed, 45 His courage bauld wad try ; And now this gars^ mine heart to bleed, Vov my dear Gilderoy. r^ shift. 2 makes.] 322 GILDEROY. And when of me his leave he tuik, The tears they wat mine ee, 50 I gave tull him a parting luik, " My benison gang \vi' thee ; God speed thee weil, mine ain dear heart, For gane is all my joy ; My heart is rent sith we maun part, 55 My handsome Gilderoy."] My Gilderoy baith far and near. Was fear'd in every toun. And bauldly bare away the gear,^ Of many a lawland loun : 60 Nane eir durst meet him man to man, He was sae brave a boy ; At length wi' numbers he was tane, My winsome"^ Gilderoy. Wae worth ^ the loun that made the laws, 65 To hang a man for gear, To 'reave of life for ox or ass, For sheep, or horse, or mare : Had not their laws been made sae strick, I neir had lost my joy, 70 Wi' sorrow neir had wat my cheek. For my dear Gilderoy. Giff Gilderoy had done amisse. He mought hae banisht been ; Ah ! what fair cruelty is this, 75 To hang sike handsome men : ( To hang the flower o' Scottish land, Sae sweet and fair a boy ; Nae lady had sae white a hand. As thee, my Gilderoy. 80 [1 property. - winning. ^ woe betide.] GILD E ROY. 32^ J Of Gilderoy sae fraid they were, They bound him mickle strong, Tull Edenburrow they led him thair. And on a trallows hunsf: They hung him high aboon the rest, 85 He was sae trim a boy ; Thair dyed the youth whom I kied best, My handsome Gilderoy. Thus having yielded up his breath, I bare his corpse away, 90 Wi' tears, that trickled for his death, I washt his comelye clay ; And siker^ in a grave sae deep, I laid the dear-lued boy. And now for evir maun I weep, 95 ]\Iy winsome Gilderoy. * XIII. WINIFREDA. HIS beautiful address to conjugal love, a subject too much neglected by the libertine Muses, was, I believe, first printed in a volume of Miscellaneous Poems, by several hands, published by D. [David] Lewis, 1726, 8vo. It is there said, how truly I know not, to be "a translation from the ancient British language." [^ secure.] 324 WINIFREDA. |WAY ; let nought to love displeasing, My Winifreda, move your care ; Let nought delay the heavenly blessing, Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy fear. What tho' no grants of royal donors 5 With pompous titles grace our blood ; We'll shine in more substantial honors, And to be noble we'll be Qf-ood. Our name, while virtue thus we tender, Will sweetly sound where-e'er 'tis spoke : 10 And all the great ones, they shall wonder How they respect such little folk. What though from fortune's lavish bounty No mighty treasures we possess ; We'll find within our pittance plenty, 15 And be content without excess. Still shall each returning season Sufficient for our wishes give ; For we will live a life of reason, And that's the only life to live. 20 Through youth and age in love excelling. We'll hand in hand together tread ; Sweet-smiling peace shall crown our dwelling, And babes, sweet-smiling babes, our bed. How should I love the pretty creatures, 15 While round my knees they fondly clung ; To see them look their mothers features, To hear them lisp their mothers tongue. WINIFREDA, And when with envy time transported, Shall think to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, And I'll go a wooing in my boys. 325 30 XIV. THE WITCH OF WOKEY :AS published in a small collection of poems, intitled Euthcmia,or the Pcnver of Hannony^ &c. 1756, written in 1 748, by the ingenious Dr. Harrmgton, of Bath, who never allowed them to be published, and withheld his name till it could no longer be concealed. The following copy- was furnished by the late Mr. Shensto7ie, with some variations and corrections of his own, which he had taken the liberty to propose, and for which the author's indulgence was intreated. In this edition it was intended to reprint the author's ovrcv original copy ; but, as that may be seen correctly given in Fcarc/is Collection, vol. i. 1783, p. 161, it was thought the reader of taste would wish to have the variations preserved, they are, therefore, still retained here, which it is hoped the worthy author will excuse with his wonted liberality. Wokey-hole is a noted cavern in Somersetshire, which has given birth to as many wild fanciful stories as the Sybils Cave, in Italy. Thro' a very narrow entrance, it opens into a very large vault, the roof whereof, either on account of its height, or the thickness of the gloom, cannot be discovered by the light of torches. It goes winding a great way underground, is crossed by a stream of very cold water, and is all horrid with broken pieces of rock : many of these are evident petrifactions ; which, on account of their singular forms, have given rise to the fables alluded to in this poem. -,26 THE WITCH OF WO KEY. o 'N aunciente days tradition showes A base and wicked elfe arose, The Witch of Wokey hight : Oft have I heard the fearful! tale From Sue, and Roger of the vale, s On some long winter's night. Deep in the dreary dismall cell, Which seem'd and was ycleped hell. This blear-eyed hag did hide : Nine wicked elves, as legends sayne, lo She chose to form her guardian trayne, And kennel near her side. Here screeching owls oft made their nest, While wolves its craggy sides possest, Night-howling thro' the rock : 15 No wholesome herb could here be found ; She blasted every plant around. And blister'd every flock. Her haggard face was foull to see ; Her mouth unmeet a mouth to bee ; 20 Her eyne of deadly leer, She nought devis'd, but neighbour's ill ; She wreak'd on all her wayward will, And marr d all goodly chear. All in her prime, have poets sung, 25 No gaudy youth, gallant and young. E'er blest her longing armes ; And hence arose her spight to vex. And blast the youth of either sex, \ By dint of hellish charms. 30 THE WITCH OF WO KEY. 327 From Glaston came a lerned wiorht, F"ull bent to marr her fell despight, And well he did, I ween : Sich mischief never had been known, And, since his mickle lerninge shown, 35 Sich mischief ne'er has been. He chaimtede out his godlie booke, He crost the water, blest the brooke, Then — pater noster done, — The ghastly hag he sprinkled o'er ; 40 When lo ! where stood a hag before, Now stood a ghastly stone. Full well 'tis known adown the dale : Tho' passing strange indeed the tale. And doubtfull may appear. ^^ I'm bold to say, there's never a one, That has not seen the witch in stone, With all her household gear. But tho' this lernede clerke did well ; W^ith grieved heart, alas ! I tell, 50 She left this curse behind : That Wokey-nymphs forsaken quite, Tho' sense and beauty both unite, Should find no leman kind. For lo ! even, as the fiend did say, 55 The sex have found it to this day, That men are wondrous scant : Here's l^eauty, wit, and sense combin'd, With all that's good and virtuous join'd, Yet liardly one gallant. 60 Shall then sich maids unpitied moane ? They might as well, like her, be stone. As thus forsaken dwell. J 2S BRYAN AND PEREENE. Since Glaston now can boast no clerks ; Come down from Oxenford, ye sparks, 65 And, oh ! revoke the spelL Yet stay — nor thus despond, ye fair ; Virtue's the gods' pecuHar care ; I hear the gracious voice : Your sex shall soon be blest agen, 70 We only wait to find sich men, As best deserve your choice. XV. BRYAN AND PEREENE, A West Indian -Ballad, ' S founded on a real fact, that happened in the island of St. Christophers about the beginning of the present reign. The Editor owes the following stanzas to the friendship of X)x. James Grainger* who was an eminent physician in that island when this tragical incident happened, and died there much honoured and lamented in 1767. To this inge- nious gentleman the pubUc are indebted for the fine Ode on So- litude, printed in the fourth vol. of Dodsley's Miscel. p. 229, in which are assembled some of the sublimest images in nature. The reader will pardon the insertion of the first stanza here, for the sake of rectifying the two last lines, which were thus given by the author : " O Solitude, romantic maid, Whether by nodding towers you tread. Or haunt the desart's trackless gloom, Or hover o'er the yawning tomb. Or climb the Andes' clifted side, Or by the Nile's coy source abide, * Author of a poem on the Culture of the Sugar- Cane, &c. BRYAN AND PEREENE. 329 Gr starting from your half-year's sleep From Hecla view the thawing deep, Or at the purple dawn of day Tadmor's marble wastes survey," &:c. alluding to the account of Palmyra published by some late inge- nious travellers, and the manner in which they were struck at the first sight of those magnificent ruins by break of day.* HE north-east wind did briskly blow, The ship was safely moor'd ; Young Bryan thought the boat's-crew slow, And so leapt over-board. Pereene, the pride of Indian dames, 5 His heart long held in thrall ; And whoso his impatience blames, I wot, ne'er lov'd at all. A long long year, one month and day. He dwelt on English land, 10 Nor once in thought or deed would stray, Tho' ladies sought his hand. For Bryan he was tall and strong, Right blythsome roll'd his een. Sweet was his voice whene'er he sung, 15 He scant had twenty seen. But who the countless charms can draw, That grac'd his mistress true ; Such charms the old world seldom saw, Nor oft I ween the new. ao So in p. 235, it should be, Tiirtid her magic ray. 330 BRYAN AND PEREENE. Her raven hair plays round her neck, Like tendrils of the vine ; Her cheeks red dewy rose-buds deck, Her eyes like diamonds shine. Soon as his well-known ship she spied, 25 She cast her weeds away, And to the palmy shore she hied, All in her best array. In sea-green silk so neatly clad, She there impatient stood ; 30 The crew with wonder saw the lad Repell the foaming flood. Her hands a handkerchief display'd. Which he at parting gave ; Well pleas'd the token he survey'd, 35 And manlier beat the wave. Her fair companions one and all. Rejoicing crowd the strand ; For now her lover swam in call, And almost touch'd the land. 40 Then through the white surf did she haste, To clasp her lovely swain ; When, ah ! a shark bit through his waste : His heart's blood dy'd the main ! He shriek'd! his half sprang from the wave, 45 Streaming with purple gore. And soon it found a living grave. And ah ! was seen no more. Now haste, now haste, ye maids, I pray. Fetch water from the spring : 50 She falls, she swoons, she dies away, And soon her knell they ring. GENTLE RIVER. v.i jj Now each May morning round her tomb Ye fair, fresh flowerets strew, So may your lovers scape his doom, 55 Her hapless fate scape you. XVI. GENTLE RIVER, GENTLE RIVER, Translated from the Spanish. ALTHOUGH the English are remarkable for the number and variety of their ancient ballads, and retain perhaps a greater fondness for these old simple rhapsodies of their ancestors, than most other nations ; they are not the only people who have distinguished themselves by compositions of this kind. The Spaniards have great multitudes of them, many of which are of tlie highest merit. The}' call them in their lan- guage Romances^ and have collected them into volumes under the titles of El Roitiajicero, El Caiuionero* &c. Most of them relate to their conflicts ^\^th the Moors, and display a spirit of gallantry peculiar to that romantic people. But of all the Spanish ballads none exceed in poetical merit those inserted in a little Spanish History of the civil wars of Gratiada, describing the dissensions which raged in that last seat of Moorish empire before it was con- quered in the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, in 149 1. In this history (or perhaps romance) a great number of heroic songs are inserted and appealed to as authentic vouchers for the truth of facts. In reality the prose narrative seems to be drawn uj) for no other end, but to introduce and illustrate tliose beautiful pieces. The Spanish editor pretends (how truly 1 know not) that they are translations from the Arabic or Morisco language. Indeed, from the plain unadorned nature of the verse, and the native sim- plicity of the language and sentiment, which runs through these poems, one would judge them to have been composed soon after the conquest of Granadaf above mentioned; as the prose narrative i.e. The ballad-singer. f See vol. iii. Aj)pendix. 332 GENTLE RIVER, in which they are inserted was published about a centuiy after. It should seem, at least, that they were written before the Cas- tillians had formed themselves so generally, as they have done since, on the model of the Tuscan poets, or had imported from Italy that fondness for conceit and refinement, which has for near two centuries past so much infected the Spanish poetry, and rendered it so frequently affected and obscure. As a specimen of the ancient Spanish manner, which very much resembles that of our English bards and minstrels, the reader is desired candidly to accept the two folloAving poems. They are given from a small collection of pieces of this kind, which the Editor some years ago translated for his amusement when he was studying the Spanish language. As the first is a pretty close trans- lation, to gratify the curious it is accompanied with the original. The metre is the same in all these old Spanish ballads : it is of the most simple construction, and is still used by the common people in their extemporaneous songs, as we learn from Baretti's Travels. It nms in short stanzas of four lines, of which the second and fourth alone correspond in their terminations; and in these it is only required that the vowels should be alike, the consonants may be altogether different, as pone casa meten arcos noble canas muere gamo Yet has this kind of verse a sort of simple harmonious flow, which atones for the imperfect nature of the rhyme, and renders it not impleasing to the ear. The same flow of numbers has been studied in the following versions. The first of them is given from two different originals, both of which are printed in the Hist, de las civiles guerras de Granada, Mad. 1694. One of them hath the rhymes ending in aa, the other in ia. It is the former of these that is here reprinted. They both of them begin with the same line : " Rio verde, rio verde,"* which could not be translated faithfully : " Verdant river, verdant river," would have given an affected stiffness to the verse ; the great merit * Literally, Green river, green river. [Percy found out, after writing this, that Rio Verde is the name of a river in Spain, a fact, which he writes, " ought to have been attended to by the trans- lator, had he known it."] GENTLE RIVER. 333 of which is easy simplicity ; and therefore a more simple epithet was adopted, though less poetical or expressive. [The two following Spanish ballads are peculiarly out of place in a collection of English ballads, and they are not very good speci- mens of the class from which they are taken. Those who wish for information on Spanish ballads must refer to Ticknor's History of Spanish Literature ; T. Rodd's Ancient Spanish Ballads, relating to the Tii'clve Peers of France mentioned in Don Quixote, 2 vols. London, 1821; and J. G. Lockhart's Ancient Spanish Ballads, historical and romantic, 1823.] 334 GENTLE RIVER. lO verde, rio verde, Ouanto cuerpo en ti se bana De Christianos y de Moros Muertos por la dura espada ! Y tus ondas cristalinas De roxa sangre se esmaltan : Entre Moros y Christianos Muy gran batalla se trava. Murieron Duques y Condes, Grandes seiiores de salva: Murio gente de valia De la nobleza de Espafia. En ti murio don Alonso, Que de Aguilar se Ilamaba ; El valeroso Urdiales, Con don Alonso acababa. Por un ladera arriba El buen Sayavedra marcha ; Naturel es de Sevilla, De la gente mas granada. Tras el iba un Renegado, Desta manera le habla ; Date, date, Sayavedra, No huyas de la Batalla. Yo te conozco muy bien, Gran tiempo estuve en tu casa ; Y en la Pla9a de Sevilla Bien te vide jugar cafias. lO IS 20 *5 GENTLE RIVER. 335 ENTLE river, gentle river, Lo, thy streams are stain'd with gore, Many a brave and noble captain Floats along thy willow'd shore. All beside thy limpid waters, 5 All beside thy sands so bright, Moorish Chiefs and Christian Warriors Join'd in fierce and mortal fight. Lords, and dukes, and noble princes On thy fatal banks were slain : 10 Fatal banks that gave to slaughter All the pride and flower of Spain. There the hero, brave Alonzo Full of wounds and glory died : There the fearless Urdiales 15 Fell a victim by his side. Lo ! where yonder Don Saavedra Thro' their squadrons slow retires ; Proud Seville, his native city. Proud Seville his worth admires. 20 Close behind a renegado Loudly shouts with taunting cry ; Yield thee, yield thee, Don Saavedra, Dost thou from the battle fly ? Well I know thee, haughty Christian, 25 Long 1 liv'd beneath thy roof; Oft I've in the lists of glory Seen thee win the prize of proof. 136 GENTLE RIVER, Conozco a tu padre y madre, Y a tu muger dona Clara ; 30 Siete anos fui tu cautivo, Malamente me tratabas. Y aora lo seras mio, Si Mahoma me ayudara ; Y tambien te tratare, 35 Como a mi me tratabas. Sayavedra que lo oyera, Al Moro bolvio la cara ; Tirole el Moro una flecha, Pero nunca le acertaba. 40 Hiriole Sayavedra De una herida muy mala : Muerto cayo el Renegado Sin poder hablar palabra. Sayavedra fue cercado 45 De mucha Mora canalla, Y al cabo cayo alii muerto De una muy mala lan9ada. Don Alonso en este tiempo Bravamente peleava, 50 Y el cavallo le avian muerto, Y le tiene por muralla. Mas cargaron tantos Moros Que mal le hieren y tratan : De la sangre, que perdia, 55 Don Alonso se desmaya. Al fin, al fin cayo muerto Al pie de un pena alta. Muerto queda don Alonso, Eterna fama ganara. 60 ^n ^K ^S Jf* ^^ GENTLE RIVER. 337 Well I know thy aged parents, Well thy blooming bride I know ; 30 Seven years I was thy captive. Seven years of pain and woe. May our prophet grant my wishes, Haughty chief, thou shalt be mine : Thou shalt drink that cup of sorrow, 35 Which I drank when I was thine. Like a lion turns the warrior, Back he sends an angry glare : Whizzing came the Moorish javelin, Vainly whizzing thro' the air. 40 Back the hero full of fury Sent a deep and mortal wound : Instant sunk the Renegado, Mute and lifeless on the orround. With a thousand Moors surrounded, 4.5 Brave Saavedra stands at bay : Wearied out but never daunted, Cold at length the warrior lay. Near him fiorhtino; areat Alonzo Stout resists the Paynirn bands ; 50 From his slaughter'd steed dismounted Firm intrench'd behind him stands. Furious press the hostile squadron, Furious he repels their rage : Loss of blood at length enfeebles : 55 Who can war with tliousands wage ! Where yon rock the plain o'ershadows Close beneath its foot retir'd, Fainting sunk the bleeding hero, And without a groan expir'd. 60 338 GENTLE RIVER. *^* In the Spanish original of the foregoing ballad follow a few more stanzas, but being of inferior merit were not translated. Renegado properly signifies an Apostate; but it is sometimes used to express an Infidel in general ; as it seems to do above in ver. 21, &c. The image of the Lion, &c. in ver. 37, is taken from the other Spanish copy, the rhymes of which end in ia, viz. " Sayavedra, que lo oyera, " Como un leon rebolbia." XVII. ALCANZOR AND ZAYDA, A MOORISH TALE;, Imitated from the Spanish. I' HE foregoing version was rendered as literal as the"^' nature of the two languages would admit. In the fol- ') ^ lowing a wider compass hath been taken. The Spanish poem that was chiefly had in view is preserved in the same history of the Civil Wars of Granada, f. 22, and begins with these lines : " For la calle de su dama " Passeando se anda," &c. OFTLY blow the evening breezes, Softly fall the dews of night ; Yonder walks the Moor Alcanzor, Shunning every glare of light. In yon palace lives fair Zaida, Whom he loves with flame so pure : ALCANZOR AND ZAYDA. 339 Loveliest she of Moorish ladies ; He a young and noble IMoor. Waiting for the appointed minute, Oft he paces to and fro ; 10 Stopping now, now moving forwards, Sometimes quick, and sometimes slow. Hope and fear alternate teize him, Oft he sighs with heart-felt care. See, fond youth, to yonder window 15 Softly steps the timorous fair. Lovely seems the moon's fair lustre To the lost beniorhted swain. When all silvery bright she rises. Gilding mountain, grove, and plain. 20 Lovely seems the sun's full glory To the fainting seaman's eyes, When some horrid storm dispersing O'er the wave his radiance flies. But a thousand times more lovely 25 To her lon^-ino; lover's sio^ht Steals half-seen the beauteous maiden Thro' the glimmerings of the night. Tip-toe stands the anxious lover, Whispering forth a gentle sigh : 30 Alia* keep thee, lovely lady ; Tell me, am I doom'd to die ? Is it true the dreadful story, Whicli thy damsel tells my page, That seduc'd by sordid riches 35 Thou wilt sell thy bloom to age ? Alia is the Mahometan name of God. 340 ALCANZOR AND ZAYDA. An old lord from Antiquera Thy stern father brings along ; But canst thou, inconstant Zaida, Thus consent my love to wrong ? 4.0 If 'tis true now plainly tell me, Nor thus trifle with my woes ; Hide not then from me the secret, Which the world so clearly knows. Deeply sigh'd the conscious maiden, 4.5 While the pearly tears descend : Ah ! my lord, too true the story ; Here our tender loves must end. Our fond friendship is discover'd, Well are known our mutual vows : 50 All my friends are full of fury ; Storms of passion shake the house. Threats, reproaches, fears surround me ; My stern father breaks my heart : Alia knows how dear it costs me, 55 Generous youth, from thee to part. Ancient wounds of hostile fury Long have rent our house and thine ; Why then did thy shining merit Win this tender heart of mine ? 60 Well thou know'st how dear I lov'd thee Spite of all their hateful pride, Tho' I fear'd my haughty father Ne'er would let me be thy bride. Well thou know'st what cruel chidings 65 Oft I've from my mother borne ; ALCANZOR AND ZAYDA. 341 What I've suffered here to meet thee Still at eve and early morn. I no longer may resist them ; All, to force my hand combine ; 70 And to-morrow to thy rival This weak frame I must resign. Yet think not thy faithful Zaida Can survive so great a wrong ; Well my breaking heart assures me 75 That my woes will not be long. Farewell then, my dear Alcanzor ! Farewell too my life with thee ! Take this scarf a parting token ; When thou wear'st it think on me. 80 Soon, lov'd youth, some worthier maiden Shall reward thy generous truth ; Sometimes tell her how thy Zaida Died for thee in prime of youth. — To him all amaz'd, confounded, 85 Thus she did her woes impart : Deep he sigh'd, then cry'd, — O Zaida ! Do not, do not break my heart. Canst thou think I thus will lose thee ? Canst thou hold my love so small ? 90 No ! a thousand times I'll perish ! My curst rival too shall fall. Canst thou, wilt thou yield thus to them ? O break forth, and lly to me ! This fond heart shall bleed to save thee, 95 These fond arms shall shelter thee. 342 ALCANZOR AND ZAYDA. 'Tis in vain, in vain, Alcanzor, Spies surround me, bars secure : Scarce I steal this last dear moment, While my damsel keeps the door. loo Hark, I hear my father storming! Hark, I hear my mother chide! I must go : farewell for ever ! Gracious Alia be thy guide ! THE END OF THE THIRD BOOK. APPENDIX I. AN ESSAY ON THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS IN ENGLAND. <' APPENDIX I. AN ESSAY ON THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS IN ENGLAND. ^ I. HE Minstrels (a) were an order of men in the middle ages, who subsisted by the arts of poetry and music, and sang to the harp verses composed by them- selves, or others.* They also appear to have ac- companied their songs with mimicry and action ; and to have practised such various means of divert- ing as were much admired in those rude times, and (a) The larger Notes and Illustrations referred to by the capital letters (a) (b) &c. are thrown together to the end of this essay. * Wedded to no hypothesis, the author hath readily corrected any mistakes which have been proved to be in this essay ; and con- sidering the novelty of the subject, and the time and place when and where he first took it up, many such had been excusable. — That the term Minstrel was not confined, as some contend, to a meer musician in this country, any more than on the Continent, will be considered more fully in the last note (C> g) at the end of this essay. 346 AN ESSAY ON supplied the want of more refined entertainment. (b) These arts rendered them extremely popular and acceptable in this and all the neighbouring countries ; where no high scene of festivity was esteemed com- plete, that was not set off with the exercise of their talents ; and where, so long as the spirit of chivalry subsisted, they were protected and caressed, because their songs tended to do honour to the ruling passion of the times, and to encourage and foment a martial spirit. The Minstrels seem to have been the genuine successors of the ancient Bards, (c) who under dif- ferent names were admired and revered, from the earliest ages, among the people of Gaul, Britain, Ireland, and the North ; and indeed by almost all the first inhabitants of Europe, whether of Celtic or Gothic race ; * but by none more than by our own Teutonic ancestors,! particularly by all the Danish tribes.:}: Among these they were distinguished by the name of Scalds, a word which denotes "Smoothers and Polishers of language." § The origin of their art was attributed to Odin or Woden, the father of their gods ; and the professors of it were held in the highest estimation. Their skill was considered as something divine; their persons were deemed sacred; their attendance was solicited by kings ; and they were everywhere loaded with honours and rewards. In short, Poets and their art were held among them ' * Vid. Pelloutier, Hist, des Celtes, torn. i. 1. 2. c. 6. lo. t Tacit, de Mor. Gentt. cap. 2. \ Vid. Bartholin, de Causis contemptce a Danis Jttorfis, lib. i. cap. 10. — WormiJ Literatura Rtmic. ad finem. — See also Northern Antiquities, or, A Descriptioji of the Mariners, Custo?ns, 6^^. of the ancie?it Danes a?id other northern nations : from the French of M. Mallet. London, printed for T. Caman, 1770, 2 vols. 8vo. § Torfcei Frafat. ad Oread. Hist. — Pref. to Five Pieces of Runic Poetry, &c. THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 347 in that rude admiration, which is ever shewn by an ignorant people to such as excel them in intellectual accomplishments. As these honours were paid to Poetry and Song, from the earliest times, in those countries which our Anolo-Saxon ancestors inhabited before their removal into Britain, we may reasonably conclude that they would not lay aside all their regard for men of this sort immediately on quitting their German forests. At least so long as they retained their ancient man- ners and opinions, they would still hold them in high estimation. But as the Saxons, soon after their es- tablishment in this island, were converted to Chris- tianity ; in proportion as literature prevailed among them, this rude admiration would begin to abate, and Poetry would be no longer a peculiar profession. Thus the Poet and the Minstrel early with us be- came two persons, (d) Poetry was cultivated by men of letters indiscriminately, and many of the most popular rhymes were composed amidst the leisure and retirement of monasteries. But the Minstrels continued a distinct order of men for many ages after the Norman Conquest, and got their livelihood by singing verses to the harp at the houses of the great. (e) There they were still hospitably and re- spectfully receiv^ed, and retained many of the honours shewn to their predecessors, the Bards and Scalds. (f) And though, as their art declined, many of them only recited the compositions of others, some of them still composed songs themselves, and all of them could probably invent a few stanzas on occasion. I have no doubt but most of the old heroic ballads in this collection were composed by this order of men ; for although some of the larger metrical romances might come from the pen of the monks or others, yet the smaller narratives were probably composed by the minstrels who sang them. P>om the amazing varia- 348 AN ESSAY ON tions which occur in different copies of the old pieces, it is evident they made no scruple to alter each other's productions ; and the reciter added or omitted whole stanzas according to his own fancy or conve- nience. In the early ages, as was hinted above, the profes- sion of oral itinerant poet was held in the utmost reverence among all the Danish tribes ; and therefore we might have concluded that it was not unknown or unrespected among their Saxon brethren in Britain, even if history had been altogether silent on this subject. The original country of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors is well known to have lien chiefly in the Cimbric Chersonese, in the tracts of land since dis- tinguished by the name of Jutland, Angelen, and Hol- stein.* The Jutes and Angles in particular, who composed two-thirds of the conquerors of Britain, were a Danish people, and their country at this day belongs to the crown of Denmark;! so that when the Danes again infested England, three or four hundred years after, they made war on the descendants of their own ancestors.]: From this near affinity we might expect to discover a strong resemblance be- tween both nations in their customs, manners, and even language ; and, in fact, we find them to differ no more than would naturally happen between a parent country and its own colonies, that had been severed in a rude, uncivilized state, and had dropt all w * Vid. Chronic. Saxon, a Gibson, pp. 12, 13, 4to. — Bed. Hist. Ecdes. a Smith, lib. i, c. 15. — " Ealdsexe [Regio antiq. Saxonum] in cervice Cimbricae Chersonesi, Holsatiam proprie dictam, Dith- marsiam, Stormariam, et Wagriam, complectens." — Annot. in Bed. a Sfnith, p. 52. Et vid. Camdeni Britan. t " Anglia Vetus, hodie etiam Anglen, sita est inter Saxones et Giotes [Jutos], habens oppidum capitale . . . Sleswick." — Ethel- werd, lib. i. \ ^tt Northern Antiquities, S^c. vol. i. pp. 7, 8, 185, 259, 260, 261. THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 349 intercourse for three or four centuries, especially if we reflect that the colony here settled had adopted a new religion, extremely opposite in all respects to the ancient paganism of the mother country ; and that even at first, along with the original Angli, had been incorporated a large mixture of Saxons from the /_neighbouring parts of Germany ; and afterwards, among the Danish invaders, had come vast multi- tudes of adventurers from the more northern parts of Scandinavia. But all these were only different tribes of the same common Teutonic stock, and spoke only different dialects of the same Gothic language.* From this sameness of original and similarity of manners we might justly have wondered if a charac- ter so difrnified and distintruished amonc^^ the ancient Danes as the Scald or Bard, had been totally un- known or unregarded in this sister nation. And, indeed, this argument is so strong, and, at the same time, the early annals of the Anglo-Saxons are so scanty and defective, (g) that no objections from their silence could be sufficient to overthrow it. For if these popular bards were confessedly revered and admired in those very countries which the Anglo- Saxons inhabited before their removal into Britain, and if they were afterwards common and numerous among the other descendants of the same Teutonic ancestors, can we do otherwise than conclude that men of this order accompanied such tribes as mi- grated hither, that they afterwards subsisted here, though perhaps with less splendor than in the North, and that there never was wanting a succes- sion of them to hand down the art, though some par- ticular conjunctures may have rendered it more re- spectable at one time than another ? And this was evidently the case ; for though much greater honours * See Northern Antiquities^ Preface, p. xxvi. 350 AN ESSAY ON seem to have been heaped upon the northern Scalds, in whom the characters of historian, genealogist, poet, and musician were all united, than appear to have been paid to the minstrels and harpers(H) of the Anglo-Saxons, whose talents were chiefly calculated to entertain and divert, while the Scalds professed to inform and instruct, and were at once the moralists and theologues of their pagan countrymen. Yet the Anglo-Saxon minstrels continued to possess no small portion of public favour, and the arts they professed were so extremely acceptable to our ancestors that the word " Glee," which particularly denoted their art, continues still in our own language to be of all others the most expressive of that popular mirth and jollity, that strong sensation of delight, which is felt by unpolished and simple minds, (i) II. Having premised these general considerations, I shall now proceed to collect from history such par- ticular incidents as occur on this subject ; and, whether the facts themselves are true or not, they are related by authors who lived too near the Saxon times, and had before them too many recent monu- ments of the Anglo-Saxon nation, not to know what was conformable to the genius and manners of that people ; and therefore we may presume that their relations prove at least the existence of the customs and habits they attribute to our forefathers before the Conquest, whatever becomes of the particular in- cidents and events themselves. If this be admitted, we shall not want sufficient proofs to show that min- strelsy and song were not extinct among the Anglo- Saxons, and that the professor of them here, if not quite so respectable a personage as the Danish Scald, was yet highly favoured and protected, and continued still to enjoy considerable privileges. Even so early as the first invasion of Britain by THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 351 the Saxons an incident is recorded to have happened, which, if true, shews that the minstrel or bard was not unknown among this people, and that their princes themselves could, upon occasion, assume that character. Colgrin, son of that Ella who was elected kino- or leader of the Saxons in the room of Heneist,* was shut up in York, and closely besieged by Ar- thur and his Britons. Baldulph, brother of Colgrin, wanted to gain access to him, and to apprize him of a reinforcement which was coming from Germany. He had no other way to accomplish his design but to assume the character of a minstrel. He therefore shaved his head and beard, and dressing himself in the habit of that profession, took his harp in his hand. In this disguise he walked up and down the trenches without suspicion, playing all the while upon his instrument as an harper. By little and little he ad- vanced near to the walls of the city, and, making himself known to the centinels, was in the niofht drawn up by a rope. Although the above fact comes only from the sus- picious pen of Geoffry of Monmouth, (k) the judicious reader will not too hastily reject it, because, if such a fact really happened, it could only be known to us throucrh the medium of the British writers : for the first Saxons, a martial but unlettered people, had no historians of their own ; and Geoffry, with all his fables, is allowed to have recorded many true events that have escaped other annalists. We do not, however, want instances of a less fabu- lous tera, and more indubitable authority : for later history affords us two remarkable facts,(L) which I think clearly shew that the same arts of poetry and song, which were so much admired among the Danes, * See Rafiin's Hist, (by 'J'indal, fol. 1732, vol. i. p. 36) who places the incident here related under the year 495. 352 AN ESSAY ON were by no means unknown or neglected in this sister nation, and that the privileges and honours which were so lavishly bestowed upon the northern Scalds, were not wholly withheld from the Anglo-Saxon minstrels. Our great King Alfred, who is expressly said to have excelled in music,* being desirous to learn the true situation of the Danish army, which had invaded his realm, assumed the dress and character of a min- strel, (m) when, taking his harp, and one of the most trusty of his friends disguised as a servant f (for in the early times it was not unusual for a minstrel to have a servant to carry his harp), he went with the utmost security into the Danish camp ; and, though he could not but be known to be a Saxon by his dia- lect, the character he had assumed procured him a hospitable reception. He was admitted to entertain the king at table, and staid among them long enough to contrive that assault which afterwards destroyed them. This was in the year 878. About fifty years after,! a Danish king made use of the same disguise to explore the camp of our king Athelstan. With his harp in his hand, and dressed like a minstrel, (n) Aulaff,§ king of the Danes, went among the Saxon tents ; and, taking his stand near the king's pavilion, began to play, and was imme- diately admitted. There he entertained Athelstan and his lords with his singing and his music, and was * By Bale and Spelman. See Note (M). t Ibid. % Anno 938. Vid. Rapin, &c. § So I think the name should be printed, rather then Anlaff, the more usual form (the same traces of the letters express both names in MS.), Aulaff being evidently the genuine northern name Olaff, or Olave. Lat. Olaus. In the old Romance of Honi' Childe (see vol. iii. Appendix), the name of the king his father is AUof, which is evidently Ollaf, with the vowels only transposed. THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 353 at length dismissed with an honourable reward, though his songs must have discovered him to have been a Dane,(o) Athelstan was saved from the consequences of this stratagem by a soldier, who had observed Aulaff bury the money which had been given him, either from some scruple of honour or motive of superstition. This occasioned a discovery. Now, if the Saxons had not been accustomed to have minstrels of their own, Alfred's assuming so new and unusual a character would have excited suspicions among the Danes. On the other hand, if it had not been customary with the Saxons to shew favour and respect to the Danish Scalds, Aulaff would not have ventured himself among them, especially on the eve of a battle.(p) From the uniform procedure, then, of both these kings, we may fairly conclude that the same mode of entertainment prevailed among both people, and that the minstrel was a privileged cha- racter with each. But if these facts had never existed, it can be proved from undoubted records that the minstrel was a reofular and stated officer in the court of our Ano^lo- Saxon kings: for in Doomesday book, "Joculator Regis," the king's minstrel, is expressly mentioned in Gloucestershire, in which county it should seem that he had lands assigned him for his maintenance. (q) III. We have now brought the inquiry down to the Norman Conquest; and as the Normans had been a late colony from Norway and Denmark, where the Scalds had arrived to the highest pitch of credit before Rollo's expedition into France, we cannot doubt but this adventurer, like the other northern princes, had many of these men in his train, who settled with him in his new duchy of Normandy, and left behind them successors in their art ; so that when his descendant, William the Bastard, invaded A A 354 AN ESSAY ON this kingdom in the following century,* that mode of entertainment could not but be still familiar with the Normans. And that this is not mere conjecture will appear from a remarkable fact, which shews that the arts of poetry and song were still as reputable among the Normans in France as they had been among their ancestors in the north ; and that the profession of Minstrel, like that of Scald, was still aspired to by the most gallant soldiers. In William's army was a valiant warrior, named Taillefer, who was distin- guished no less for the minstrel-arts, (r) than for his courage and intrepidity. This man asked leave of his commander to begin the onset, and obtained it. He accordingly advanced before the army, and with a loud voice animated his countrymen with songs in praise of Charlemagne and Roland, and other heroes of France ; then rushing among the thickest of the English, and valiantly fighting, lost his life. Indeed, the Normans were so early distinguished for their minstrel-talents, that an eminent French writer (s) makes no scruple to refer to them the origin of all modern poetry, and shews that they were celebrated for their songs near a century before the troubadours of Provence, who are supposed to have led the way to the poets of Italy, France, and Spain, f We see then that the Norman Conquest was rather likely to favour the establishment of the minstrel profession in this kingdom, than to suppress it : and although the favour of the Norman conquerors would be probably confined to such of their own country- * Rollo was invested in his new duchy of Normandy, a. d. 912. William invaded England, a.d. 1066. f Vid. Hist, des Troubadours, 3 torn, passim, & vid. Fableaux ou Contes du XII. 6^ du XIII. Siede, traduits, &^c. avec des Notes his- toriques &= critiques, ^'c. par M. le Grand. Paris, 1781, 5 tom. i2mo. THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 355 men as excelled in the minstrel arts — and in the first ages after the Conquest, no other songs would be listened to by the great nobility but such as were composed in their own Norman French — yet as the cfreat mass of the orio-inal inhabitants were not ex- tirpated, these could only understand their own native gleemen or minstrels ; who must still be allowed to exist, unless it can be proved that they were all proscribed and massacred, as, it is said, the Welsh Bards were afterwards by the severe policy of King Edward I. But this we know was not the case; and even the cruel attempts of that monarch, as we shall see below, proved ineffectual. (s 2) The honours shewn to the Norman or French minstrels by our princes and great barons, would naturally have been imitated by their English vassals and tenants, even if no favour or dis- tinction had ever been shewn here to the same order of men, in the Anglo-Saxon and Danish reigns. So that we cannot doubt but the English harper and songster would, at least in a subordinate degree, enjoy the same kind of honours, and be received with similar respect among the inferior English gentry and populace, I must be allowed, therefore, to consider them as belonging to the same community, as subordinate members at least of the same colleofe ; and therefore, in ofleanino" the scanty materials for this slight history, I shall collect whatever incidents I can find relating to minstrels and their art, and arrange them, as they occur in our own annals, without distinction, as it will not always be easy to ascertain, from the slight mention of them by our regular historians, whether the artists were Norman or iMii/lish ; for it need not be re- marked that subjects of this trivial nature are but incidentally mentioned by our ancient annalists, and were fastidiously rejected by other grave and serious 356 AN ESSAY ON writers ; so that, unless they were accidentally con- nected with such events as became recorded in his- tory, they would pass unnoticed . through the lapse of ages, and be as unknown to posterity as other topics relating to the private life and amusements of the greatest nations. On this account it can hardly be expected that we should be able to produce regular and unbroken annals of the minstrel art and its professors, or have sufficient information whether every minstrel' or harper composed himself, or only repeated, the songs he chanted. Some probably did the one, ( and some the other : and it would have been wonderful indeed if men whose peculiar profession it was, and who devoted their time and talents to entertain their hearers with poetical composi- tions, were peculiarly deprived of all poetical genius themselves, and had been under a physical inca- pacity of composing those common popular rhymes which were the usual subjects of their recitation. Whoever examines any considerable quantity of these, finds them in style and colouring as different from the elaborate production of the sedentary com- poser at his desk or in his cell, as the rambling harper or minstrel was remote in his modes of life and habits of thinking from the retired scholar, or the solitary monk, (t) It is well known that on the Continent, whence our Norman nobles came, the bard who composed, the harper who played and sang, and even the dancer and the mimic, were all considered as of one community, and were even all included under the common name of Minstrels.* I must therefore be allowed the same application of the term here without being expected to prove that every singer * See Notes (B.) and (A a.) THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 357 composed, or every composer chanted, his own song; much less that every one excelled in all the arts, which were occasionally exercised by some or other of this fraternity. IV. After the Norman Conquest, the first occur- rence which I have met with relatincr to this order of men is the founding of a priory and hospital by one of them : scil. the Priory and Hospital of St. Bartholomew, in Smithfield, London, by Royer or Raherus, the King's Minstrel, in the third year of King Henr)' I. a.d. 1102. He was the first prior of his own establishment, and presided over it to the time of his death, (t 2) In the reign of K. Henry II. we have upon record the name of Galfrid or Jeffrey, a harper, who in 1 180 received a corrody or annuity from the Abbey of Hide, near Winchester : and, as in the early times every harper was expected to sing, we cannot doubt but this reward was given to him for his music and his songs ; which, if they were for the solace of the monks there, we may conclude would be in the English language. (u) Under his romantic son, K. Richard I., the min- strel profession seems to have acquired additional splendor. Richard, who was the great hero of chivalry, was also the distinguished patron of poets and minstrels. He was himself of their number, and some of his poems are still extant.* They were no less patronized by his favourites and chief officers. His Chancellor, William Bishop of Ely, is expressly * See a pathetic song of his in Mr. Walpole's Catalogue of Royal Authors, vol. i. p. 5. The reader will find a translation of it into modern French, in Hist, littcraire dcs I'roubadours, 1774, 3 torn. i2mo. .See vol. i. (p. 58) where some more of Richard's poetry is translated. In Dr. Burney's I/ist. of Music, vol. ii. p. 238, is a poetical version of it in English. 358 AN ESSAY ON mentioned to have invited singers and minstrels from France, whom he loaded with rewards ; and they in return celebrated him as the most accom- plished person in the world, (u 2) This high distinction and regard, although confined, perhaps, in the first instance to poets and songsters of the French nation, must have had a tendency to do honour to poetry and song among all his subjects, and to encourage the cultivation of these arts among the natives, as the indulgent favour shewn by the monarch or his great courtiers to the Froven9al TroubadotiT, or Norman Ry7noti7% would naturally be imitated by their inferior vassals to the English gleeman or minstrel. At more than a century after the Conquest, the national distinctions must have begun to decline, and both the Norman and English languages would be heard in the houses of the great (u ' 3) ; so that probably about this sera, or soon after, we are to date that remarkable intercommunity and exchange of each other's compositions which we discover to have taken place at some early period between the French and Eno-lish minstrels : the same set of phrases, the same species of characters, incidents, and adventures, and often the same iden- tical stories being found in the old metrical romances of both nations. (v) The distinguished service which Richard received from one of his own minstrels, in rescuing him from his cruel and tedious captivity, is a remarkable fact, which ought to be recorded for the honour of poets and their art. This fact I shall relate in the follow- ing words of an ancient writer.* * Mons. Favine's Theatre of Honour and Knighthood, translated from the French. London, 1623, fol. torn. ii. p. 49. An elegant relation of the same event (from the French of Presid. Fauchet's Rccueil, &c. ) may be seen in Miscellanies i?i prose and verse : by THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 359 "■ The Eno^lishmen were more then a whole yeare, without hearing any tydings of their king, or in what place he was kept prisoner. He had trained up in his court a Rimer or Minstrill,* called Blondell de Nesle : who (so saith the Manuscript of old Poesies, f and an auncient manuscript French Chronicle) being so long- without the sicjht of his lord, his life seemed wearisome to him, and he became confounded with melancholly. Knowne it was, that he came backe from the Holy Land : but none could tell in what countrey he arrived. Whereupon this Blondel, re- solving to make search for him in many countries, but he would heare some newes of him ; after ex- pence of divers dayes in travaile, he came to a towne X (by good hap) neere to the castell where his maister king Richard was kept. Of his host he demanded to whom the castell appertained, and the host told him, that it belonged to the duke of Austria. Then he enquired whether there were Anna Williams, London, 1766, 4to. p. 46. It will excite the reader's admiration to be infonned that most of the pieces of that collection were composed under the disadvantage of a total depri- vation of sight. * Favine's words are, " Jongleur appelle Blondiaux de Nesle," Paris, 1620, 4to. p. 1106. But Fauchet, who has given the same story', thus expresses it, " Or ce roy ayant nourri un Menestrel aj^)pelle' Blondel, &c." llv. 2, p. 92. Dcs anciens Poctes Franpis. He is however said to have been another Blondel, not Blondel (or lilondiaux) de Nesle : but this no way aftects the circumstances of the stor)'. t This the author calls in another place, Aji ancient MS. of old Poesies, written about those 7'cry times. From this MS. Favine gives a good account of the taking of Richard by the duke of Austria, who sold him to the emperor. As for the MS. chronicle, it is evi- dently the same that sup])lied Fauchet with this story. See his Reciteil de rOrii^ine de la Langue (^ Pocsic Fran^oisc, Ryme, &> Romans, <^c. Par. 1581. X Tribales. " Retrudi cum prxcepit in Triballis : a quo carcere nullus ante dies istos cxivit." — Lat. Citron, of Otlio of Austria : apud Favin. ^oo AN ESSAY ON o any prisoners therein detained or no : for alwayes he made such secret questionings wheresoever he came. And the hoste gave answer, there was one onely prisoner, but he knew not what he was, and yet he had bin detained there more then the space of a yeare. When Blondel heard this, he wrought such meanes, that he became acquainted with them of the castell, as Minstrels doe easily win acqtcaint- ance any where -."^ but see the king he could not, neither understand that it was he. One day he sat chrectly before a window of the castell, where king Richard was kept prisoner, and began to sing a song in French, which king Richard and Blondel had sometime composed together. When king Richard heard the song, he knew it was Blondel that sung it : and when Blondel paused at halfe of the song, the king 'began the other half and completed it.'f Thus Blondel won knowledge of the king his maister, and returning home into England, made the barons of the countrie acquainted where the king was." This happened about the year 1193. The following old Provencal lines are given as the very original song : J which I shall accom- * Comme Menestrels s^ accointeiit legeremeni. — Favine. (Fauchet expresses it in the same manner.) t I give this passage corrected, as the English translator of Favine's book appeared here to have mistaken the original : — Scil. " Et quant Blondel eut dit la moitie de la Chanson, le Roy Richart se prist a dire I'autre moitie et I'acheva." — Favine, p. i i 06. Fauchet has also expressed it in nearly the same words. Recucil, p. 93. I In a little romance or novel, intitled. La Tour Tejiebreuse, d les Jours lujuineux, Contes Angloises, accovipagnez d'' Historiettes , 6~ tirez ahine ancicnne Chronique coviposcc par Richard, s2irnovime Coetir de Lion, Roy d'Angleterre, dr^c. Paris, 1705, izmo. In the Preface to this Romance the editor has given another song of Blondel de Nesle, as also a copy of the song written by K. Richard, and pubhshed by Mr. Walpole, mentioned above (in Note *, p. 357), yet the two last are not in Provencal like the sonnet printed here ; but in the old French, called Langage Roman. THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 361 pany with an imitation offered by Dr. Burney. (ii. 237.) BLONDEL. Domna rostra beutas Your beauty, lady fair, Elas bellas faissos None views ^^'ithOut delight ; Els bcis oils amoros But still so cold an air Els gens corsybcn taillats No passion can excite : Don sieu empresenats Yet this I patient see £>e rostra amor que mi lia. "\^'hile all are shun'd like me. RICHARD. Si bel trop affansia No nymph my heart can wound Ja de ros non portrai If favour she divide, Qite tnajor honorai And smiles on all around Sol en rotre ilemafi Unwilling to decide : Que sautra des beisan I'd rather hatred bear Tot tan de ros rolria. Than love with others share. The access Avhich Blondel so readily obtained in the privileged character of a minstrel, is not the only instance upon record of the same nature, (v 2) In this very reign of K. Richard I. the young heiress of D'Evreux, Earl of Salisbury, had been carried abroad and secreted by her French relations in Normandy. To discover the place of her concealment, a knight of the Talbot family spent two years in exploring that province : at first under the disguise of a pilgrim, till having found where she was confined, in order to gain admittance he assumed the dress and character of a harper, and being a jocose person exceedingly skilled in " the Gests of the ancients"'" — so they called the ro- mances and stories which were the delight of that age — he was gladly received into the family, whence * The words of the original, viz. " Citharisator homo jocosus in Gestis anticjuorum valde peritus," I conceive to give the precise idea of the ancient minstrel. See Note V. 2. That desta was appropriated to romantic stories, see Note I, Part iv. (i.) "s 362 AN ESSAY ON he took an opportunity to carry off the young lady, whom he presented to the king ; and he bestowed her on his natural brother William Longespee (son of fair Rosamond), who became in her right Earl of Salisbury, (v 3) The next memorable event which I find in his- tory, reflects credit on the English minstrels ; and this was their contributing to the rescue of one of the great Earls of Chester when besieged by the Welsh. This happened in the reign of K. John, and is related to this effect : * — Hugh the first Earl of Chester, in his charter of foundation of St. Werburg's Abbey in that city, had granted such a privilege to those, who should come to Chester fair, that they should not be then appre- hended for theft or any other misdemeanor, except the crime were committed during the fair. This special protection, occasioning a multitude of loose people to resort to that fair, was afterwards of signal benefit to one of his successors. For Ranulph the last Earl of Chester, marching into Wales with a slender attendance, was constrained to retire to his castle of Rothelan (or Rhuydland) to which the Welsh forthwith laid siege. In this distress he sent for help to the Lord De Lacy, Constable of Chester : " Who, making use of the minstrells of all sorts, then met at Chester fair, by the allurement of their musick, got together a vast number of such loose people, as, by reason of the before specified priviledge, were then in that city ; whom he forth- with sent under the conduct of Dutton (his steward)," a gallant youth, who was also his son in law. The Welsh, alarmed at the approach of this rabble. * See Dugdale (Bar. i. 42, loi), who places it after 13 John, A.D. 1 2 12. See also Plot's Staffordsh. Camden's Britann. (Cheshire). THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. x6 0^0 supposing them to be a regular body of armed and disciplined veterans, instantly raised the siege and retired. For this good service Ranulph is said to have granted to De Lacy by charter the patronage and authority over the minstrels and the loose and inferior people ; who, retaining to himself that of the lower artificers, conferred on Dutton the jurisdiction of the minstrels and harlots :* and under the descendants of this family the minstrels enjoyed certain privileges, and protection for many ages. For even so late as ~i the reign of Elizabeth, when this profession had fallen into such discredit that it was considered in law as a nuisance, the minstrels under the jurisdiction of the family of Dutton are expressly excepted out of all acts of parliament made for their suppression ; and have continued to be so excepted ever since, (w) -' The ceremonies attending the exercise of this juris- diction are thus described by Dugdalef as handed down to his time, viz. " That at midsummer fair there, all the minstrels of that countrey resorting to Chester, do attend the heir of Dutton, from his lodging to St. John's church (he being then accompanied by many gentlemen of the countrey) one of 'the minstrels' walking before him in a surcoat of his arms depicted on taffata ; the rest of his fellows proceeding (two and two) and playing on their several sorts of musical instruments. And after divine service ended, give the like attendance on him back to his lodging ; where a court being kept by his (Mr. Dutton's) Steward, and all the minstrels formally called, certain orders and laws are usually made for the better govern- ment of that Societ)', with penalties on those who transgress." * See the ancient record in Blount's Laic Dictionary. (Art. Minstrel.) t J^'i^i- P- lo'- 364 AN ESSAY ON In the same reign of K. John we have a remark- able instance of a minstrel, who to his other talents superadded the character of Soothsayer, and by his skill in drugs and medicated potions was able to rescue a knight from imprisonment. This occurs in Leland's Narrative of the Gestes of Guarine (or Warren) and his sons, which he " excerptid owte of an old Englisch boke yn ryme," * and is as follows : Whitington Castle, in Shropshire, which together with the coheiress of the original proprietor had been won in a solemn turnament by the ancestor of the Guarines,t had in the reign of K. John been seized by the Prince of Wales, and was afterwards possessed by Morice, a retainer of that Prince, to whom the king out of hatred to the true heir Fulco Guarine (with whom he had formerly had a quarrel at Chess) J not only confirmed the possession, but also made him governor of the marches, of which Fulco himself had the custody in the time of K. Richard. The Guarines demanded justice of the king, but obtaining no gracious answer, renounced their allegiance and fled into Bretagne. Returning into England, after various conflicts, " Fulco resortid to one John of Raumpayne, a Sothsayer and Jocular and Minstrelle, * Leland's Collectanea, vol. i. p. 261, 266, 267. I" This old feudal custom of marrying an heiress to the knight who should vanquish all his opponents in solemn contest, &c. appears to be burlesqued in the Turnament of Totenhani (see vol. ii. book i. No. 4), as is well observed by the learned author of Ronarks, &c. in Gent. Mag. for July, 1794, p. 613. \ " John, sun to K. Henry, and Fulco felle at variance at Chestes [r. Chesse] ; and John brake Fulco[s] hed with the Chest borde : and then Fulco gave him such a blow, that he had almost killid hym." — Lei. Coll i, p. 264. A curious picture of courtly manners in that age ! Notwithstanding this fray, we read in the next para- graph, that " K. Henry dubbid Fulco & 3 of his bretherne knightes at Winchester." — Il^ul. THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 365 and made hym his spy to IMorice at Whitington." The privileges of this character we have already seen, and John so well availed himself of them, that in consequence of the intelligence which he doubtless procured, " Fulco, and his brethrene laide waite for Morice, as he went toward Salesbyri, and Fulco ther wound id hym : and Bracy" (a knight, who was their friend and assistant), " cut of Morice['s] hedde." This sir Bracy being in a subsequent rencounter sore wounded, was taken and brought to K. John; from whose vengeance he was however rescued by this notable minstrel ; for " John Rampayne founde the meanes to cast them, that kepte Bracy, into a deadely slepe ; and so he and Bracy cam to Fulco to Whitington," which on the death of Morice had been restored to him by the Prince of Wales, As no fur- ther mention occurs of the minstrel, I might here conclude this narrative ; but I shall just add, that Fulco was obliged to flee into France, where assum- ing the name of Sir Amice, he distinguished himself in justs and turnaments ; and, after various romantic adventures by sea and land (having in the true stile of chivalry rescued " certayne ladies owt of prison"), he finally obtained the king's pardon, and the quiet possession of Whitington Castle. In the reign of K. Henry III. we have mention of Master Richard the King's harper, to whom in his 36th year (1252) that monarch gave not only forty shillings, and a pipe of wine, but also a pipe of wine to Beatrice his wife.* The title of inagistej% or mas- ter, given to this minstrel deserves notice, and shews liis respectable situation. * Bumey's Hist. ii. p. 355. Rot. Pip. An. 36, H. 3. " Kt in uno dolio vini empto & dato Magistro Ricardo CitharisUv Regis, xl sol. per ijr. Reg. Et in uno dolio enipto c\: dato Beatrici uxori ejusdem Ricardi." 366 AN ESSAY ON V. The harper, or minstrel, was so necessary an attendant on a royal personage, that Prince Edward (afterwards K. Edward I.) in his Crusade to the Holy Land, in 1271, was not without his harper, who must have been officially very near his person, as we are told by a contemporary historian* that, in the attempt to assassinate that heroic prince, when he had wrested the poisoned knife out of the Sarazen's hand and killed him with his own weapon, the attendants, who had stood apart while he was whis- pering to their master, hearing the struggle, ran to his assistance, and one of them, to wit his harper, seizing a tripod or trestle, struck the assassin on the head and beat out his brains. f And though the Prince blamed him for striking- the man after he was dead, yet his near access shews the respectable situation of this officer ; and his affectionate zeal should have induced Edward to entreat his brethren the Welsh Bards afterwards with more lenity. Whatever was the extent of this great monarch's severity towards the professors of music and of song in Wales ; whether the executing by martial law such of them as fell into his hands was only during the heat of conflict, or was continued afterwards with more systematic rigor ; J yet in his own court the minstrels * Walter Hemmingford {vixit temp. Edw. I.) in Chronic, cap. 35, inter V. Hist. Ang. Scriptores, vol. ii. Oxon. 1687, fol. p. 591. t " Accurrentes ad hgec Ministri ejus, qui a longe stetenmt, in- venerunt eum (scil. Nuntium) in terra mortuum, et apprehendit unus eorum tripodem, scilicet Cithareda suus & percussit eum in capite, et effundit cerebrum ejus. Increpavitque eum Edwardus quod hominem mortuum percussisset." — Jbid. These mi /listn must have been upon a very confidential footing, as it appears above in the same chapter that they had been made acquainted with the contents of the letters, which the assassin had delivered to the prince from his master. I See Gray's Ode ; and the Hist, of the Gwedir Family in Mis- cellanies by the Hon. Daines Barrington, 1781, 4to. p. 386 ; who in THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 367 appear to have been highly favoured ; for when, in 1306, he conferred the order of knighthood on his son, and many others of the young nobihty, a multitude of minstrels were introduced to invite and induce the new knights to make some military vow.(x) And Under the succeedincr reiorn of K. Edward II. such extensive privileges were claimed by these men, and by dissolute persons assuming their charac- ter, that it became a matter of public grievance, and was obliged to be reformed by an express regulation in A.D. I3i5.(v) Notwithstanding which, an inci- dent is recorded in the ensuing year, which shews that minstrels still retained the liberty of entering at will into the royal presence, and had something peculiarly splendid in their dress. It is thus related by Stow.(z). " In the year 13 16, Edward the second did solem- nize his feast of Pentecost at Westminster, in the great hall : where sitting royally at the table with his peers about him, there entered a woman adorned like a 7nmstrcl, sitting on a great horse trapped, as viin- strels then used ; who rode round about the tables, shewing pastime; and at length came up to the king's table, and laid before him a letter, and forthwith turn- ing her horse saluted every one and departed." The subject of this letter was a remonstrance to the king on the favours heaped by him on his minions, to the neglect of his knicrhts and faithful servants. The privileged character of a minstrel was em- ployed on this occasion, as sure of gaining an easy admittance ; and a female the rather deputed to assume it, that in case of detection, her sex might disarm the the laws, &c. of this monarch couhl find no instances of severity against the \Velsh. See his Observations on tlie Statutes, 4to. 4tli edit. p. 358. 368 AN ESSAY ON king's resentment. This is offered on a supposition, that she was not a real minstrel ; for there should seem to have been women of this profession, (a a) as well as of the other sex ; and no accomplish- ment is ' so constantly attributed to females, by our ancient bards, as their singing to and playing on the harp, (a a 2) In the fourth year of K. Richard II. John of Gaunt erected at Tutbury in Staffordshire, a court of min- strels, similar to that annually kept at Chester (p. 363), and which, like a Court- Leet or Court-Baron, had a legal jurisdiction, with full power to receive suit and service from the men of this profession within five neighbouring countries, to enact laws, and determine their controversies ; and to apprehend and arrest such of them as should refuse to appear at the said court, annually held on the i6th of August. For this they had a charter by which they were empowered to appoint a king of the minstrels, with four officers to preside over them, (b b) These were every year elected with great ceremony ; the whole form of which as- observed in 1 680, is described by Dr. Plott :* in whose time however they appear to have lost their singing talents, and to have confined all their skill to " wind and string music."t The minstrels seem to have been in many respects upon the same footing as the heralds ; and the king of the minstrels, like the king at arms, was both here * Hist, of Staffordshire, Ch. 10, § 69 — 76, p, 433, & seqq. of which see extracts in Sir J. Hawkins's Hist, of Music, vol. ii. p. 64, and Dr. Bumey's Hist. vol. ii. p. 360 & seqq. N.B. The barbarous diversion of Bull-running was no part of the original institution, &c. as is fully proved by the Rev. Dr. Pegge in Archceologia, vol. ii. No. xiii. p. 86. t See the charge given by the steward, at the time of the elec- tion, in Plot's Hist, ubi supra; and in Hawkins, p. 67, Burney, p. 363-4- THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 369 and on the Continent an usual officer in the courts of princes. Thus we have in the reign of K. Edward I. mention of a King Robert, and others. And in 16 Edw. II. is a (jrant to Wilhani de Morlee "the king's Minstrel, stiled Roy dc NortJi''* of houses which had belonged to another king, John le Boteler. (h b 2) Rymer hath also printed a licence granted by K. Richard II. in 13S7, to John Caumz, the king of his minstrels, to pass the seas, recommending him to the protection and kind treatment of all his sub- jects and allies.f In the subsequent reign of K. Henry IV. we meet with no particulars relating to the minstrels in Eng- land, but we find in the Statute Book a severe law passed against their brethren the Welsh bards ; whom our ancestors could not distino-uish from their own Rimoiu's, Alinistralx ; for by these names they de- scribe them.(B b 3) This act plainly shews that far from being extirpated by the rigorous policy of K. Edward I., this order of men were still able to alarm the Enorlish orovernment, which attributed to them " many diseases and mischiefs in Wales," arid prohibited their meetings and contributions. When his heroic son K. Henry V. was preparing his great voyage for France in 141 5, an express order was given for his minstrels, fifteen in number, to attend him : ;|; and eighteen are afterwards mentioned, to each of whom he allowed y^nd. a day, when that sum must have been of more than ten times the value it is at present.§ Yet when he entered London in triumph after the battle of Agincourt, he, from a prin- * .So among the heralds Norrey was anciently stiled Roy (VArmes ite North (Anstis, ii. 300). And the kings at amies in general were originally called Ref^es Jlerah/orum {Ibid. 302), as these were Reives Minstralloriim. t Rymer's Fauiera, torn. vii. p. 555. X Rynier, ix. 255. § Ibid. p. 260. }', li 370 AN ESSAY ON ciple of humility, slighted the pageants and verses which were prepared to hail his return ; and, as we are told by Holinshed,* would not suffer "any Dities to be made and song by minstrels, of his glorious victorie ; for that he would whollie have the praise and thankes altogether given to God."(B b 4) But this did not proceed from any disregard for the pro- fessors of music or of song ; for at the feast of Pentecost which he celebrated in 141 6, having the Emperor and the Duke of Holland for his guests, he ordered rich gowns for sixteen of his minstrels, of which the particulars are preserved by Rymer.f And having before his death orally granted an annuity of 100 shillings to each of his minstrels, the grant was confirmed in the first year of his son K. Henry VI., A.D. 1423, and paytnent ordered out of the Exche- quer.J The unfortunate reign of K. Henry VI. affords no occurrences respecting our subject ; but in his 34th year, a.d. 1456, we have in Rymer§ a commission for impressing boys or youths, to supply vacancies by death among the king's minstrels ; in which it is ex- pressly directed that they shall be elegant in their * See his Chronicle, sub anno 141 5 (p. 1170). He also gives this other instance of the king's great modesty, " that he would not suffer his helmet to be carried with him, and shewed to the people, that they might behold the dintes and cuttes, whiche appeared in the same, of such blowes and stripes, as hee received the daye of the battell." — Ihid. Vid. T. de Elmham, c. 29, p. 72. The prohibition against vain and secular songs would probably not include that inserted in our 2nd vol. No. v. which would be considered as a hymn. The original notes may be seen reduced and set to score in Mr. Stafford Smith's Collection of English Songs for 3 and 4 voices, and in Dr. Burney's Hist, of Music, ii. p. 384. t T. ix. 336. % Ibid. X. 287. They are mentioned by name, being ten in num- ber : one of them was named Thomas Chatterton. § Tom. xi. 375. THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. 371 limbs, as well as instructed in the minstrel art, wher- ever they can be found, for the solace of his Majesty. In the following reign, K. Edward IV. (in his 9th year. 1469) upon a complaint that certain rude hus- bandmen and artificers of various trades had assumed the title and livery of the king's minstrels, and under that colour and pretence had collected money in di- verse parts of the kingdom and committed other dis- orders, the king grants to Walter Haliday, Marshal, and to seven others his own minstrels whom he names, a charter,* by which he creates, or rather restores a fraternity or perpetual Gild (such, as he understands, the brothers ancl sisters of the fraternity of minstrels had in times past) to be governed by -a Marshal ap- pointed for life and by two wardens to be chosen annually ; who are impowered to admit brothers and sisters into the said Gild, and are authorized to ex- amine the pretensions of all such as affected to exercise the minstrel profession ; and to regulate, govern, and punish them throughout the realm (those of Chester excepted). — This seems to have some resemblance to the Earl Marshal's Court among the heralds, and is another proof of the great affinity and resemblance which the minstrels bore to the members of the Colleofe of Arms. It is remarkable that Walter Haliday, whose name occurs as marshal in the foregoing charter, had been retained in the service of the two preceding monarchs, K. Henry V.f and VI. ; J nor is this the first time he is mentioned as marshal of the king's minstrels, for in the third year of this reign, 1464, he had a grant * See it in Rymer, t. xi. 642, and in Sir J. Hawkins, vol. iv. p. 3C6, note. The above charter is recited in letters patent of K. Charles I. 15 July (11 Anno Rcgni) for a corporation of musi- cians, &c. in Westminster, which may be seen, thitl. t Rymer, ix. 255. t ^^i^^- xi- 375- 372 AN ESSAY ON from K. Edward of ten marks per annum during life directed to him with that title. * But besides their marshal, we have also in this reign mention of a Sergeant of the minstrels, who upon a particular occasion was able to do his royal master a singular service, wherein his confidential situation and ready access to the king at all hours is very apparent; for "as he [K. Edward IV.] was in the north contray in the monneth of Septembre, as he lay in his bedde, one namid Alexander Carlile, that was Sariaunt of the Mynsti^ellis, cam to him in grete hast, and badde hym aryse for he hadde enemyes cummyng for to take him, the which were within vi. or vii. mylis, of the which tydinges the king gretely marveylid, &c."f This happened in the same year, 1469, wherein the king granted or confirmed the charter for the fraternity or Gild above-mentioned ; yet this Alexander Carlisle is not one of the eight minstrels to whom that charter is directed.;]; The same charter was renewed by K. Henry VIII. in 1520, to John Oilman his then marshal, and to seven others his minstrels ; § and on the death of Oilman he granted in 1529 this office of Marshal of his minstrels to HuQ;h Wodehouse,|| whom I take to have borne the office of his serjeant over them.^ * Rymer, xi. 512. f Here unfortunately ends a curious fragment (an. 9, E. IV.), ad calcem Sprotti C/iron. Ed. Hearne, Oxon. 17 19, 8vo. Vid. T. Warton's Hist. ii. p. 134, note (c). X Rymer, xi. 642. § Ibid. xiii. 705. || Ibid. xiv. 2. 93. IT So I am inclined to understand the term Serviens noster Hugo Wodchous, in the original Grant (see Rymer, ubi supra). It is needless to observe that Serviens expressed a serjeant as well as a servant. If this interpretation of Serviens be allowed, it Avill account for his placing Wodehouse at the head of his Gild, although he had not been one of the eight minstrels who had had the general direction. The serjeant of his minstrells, we may presume, was next in dignity to the marshal, although he had no share in the government of the Gild. THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS. v5/ O VI. In all the establishments of royal and noble households, we find an ample provision made for the minstrels ; and their situation to have been both honourable and lucrative. In proof of this it is sufficient to refer to the Household Book of the Earl of Northumberland, a.d. 1512.(0 c) And the re- wards they received so frequently recur in ancient writers that it is unnecessary to crowd the page with them here, (c c 2) The name of minstrel seems however to have been gradually appropriated to the musician only, especially in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries ; yet we oc- casionally meet with applications of the term in its more enlarged meaning as including the singer, if not the composer of heroic or popular rhymes.* In the time of K. Henry VIII. we find it to have been a common entertainment to hear verses recited, or moral speeches learned for that purpose, by a set of men who got their livelihood by repeating them, and who intruded without ceremony into all companies ; not only in taverns, but in the houses of the nobility themselves. This we learn from Erasmus, whose ar- gument led him only to describe a species of these men who did not smg their compositions ; but the others that did, enjoyed without doubt the same privileges, (d d) For even long after, in the reign of Queen Eliza- beth, it was usual "in places of assembly" for the company to be " desirous to heare of old adventures and valiaunces of noble knights in times past, as those of king Artliur, and his knights of the round table, Sir Bevys of Southampton, Guy of Warwicke and others like" in " short and long meetres, and by breaches or divisions (sc. Fits)f to be more com- * See below, and Note o g. t See vol. ii. bcjok 2, No. 10. 374 AN ESSAY ON modiously sung to the harpe," as the reader may be informed by a courtly writer in 1589.* Who him- self had "written for pleasure a litle brief romance or historicall ditty . . . of the Isle of Great Britaine" in order to contribute to such entertainment. And he subjoins this caution : " Such as have not pre- monition hereof" (viz. that his poem was written in short metre, &c. to be sung to the harpe in such places of assembly), "and consideration of the causes alledged, would peradventure reprove and disgrace every romance, or short historicall ditty for that they be not written in long meeters or verses Alexandrins," which constituted the prevailing versi- fication among the poets of that age, and which no one now can endure to read. And that the recital of such romances sung to the harp was at that time the delight of the common people, we are told by the same writer,! who mentions that " common rimers" were fond of usinof rimes at short distances, " in small and popular musickes song by these Cantabanqui " (the said common rimers) " upon benches and barrels heads," &c. " or else by blind harpers or such like Taverne minstrels that give a fit of mirth for a groat ; and their matter being for the most part stories of old time, as the Tale of Sir Topas, the reportes of Bevis of Southampton, Guy of Warwicke, Adam Bell, and Clymme of the Clough, and such other old romances, or historicall rimes," &c. " also they be used in carols and rounds, and such light or lascivious poemes, which are commonly more commodiously uttered by these buffons, or vices in playes, then by any other person. Such were the rimes of Skelton (usurping the name of a poet lau- * Puttenham in his Arte of English Poesie, 1589, 4to. p. 33. See the quotation in its proper order in vol. ii. book ii. No. 10. t Ibid. p. 69. See vol. ii. book 2, No. 10. THE ANCIENT MINSTRELS, 375 reat) being in deede but a rude railing rimer, and all his doings ridiculous."* But althouLrh we find here that the minstrels had lost much of their dignity, and were sinking into con- tempt and neglect : yet that they still sustained a character far superior to anything we can conceive at present of the singers of old ballads, I think, may be inferred from the following representation. When Oueen Elizabeth was entertained at Killino^- worth Castle by the Earl of Leicester in 1575, among the many devices and pageants which were contrived for her entertainment, one of the personages intro- duced was to have been that of an ancient minstrel ; whose appearance and dress are so minutely described by a writer there present, f and give us so distinct an idea of the character, that I shall quote the pas- sage at large, (e e) " A person very meet seemed he for the purpose, of a xlv years old, apparelled partly as he would him- self His cap off; his head seemly rounded Tonsler wise : \ fair kembed, that with a sponge daintily dipt in a little capon's greace was finely smoothed, to make it shine like a mallard's winof. His beard smugly shaven : and yet his shirt after the new trink, with ruffs fair starched, sleeked and glistering like a pair of new shoes, marshalled in good order with a setting stick, and strut, that every ruff stood up like a wafer. A side (/. e. long) gown of Kendal green, * Puttenham, &c. p. 69. t See a very curious " Letter : whearin, i)art of the entertain- ment untoo the Queenz Maiesty, at Killingwoorth Castl, in War- wick Sheer, in this soomerz Progress 1575, iz signified," &c. bl. 1. 4to. vid. p. 46, & secjq. (Printed in Nichols's Colhxtion of Qmxn Elizahetlis Progresses, &c. in 2 vols. 4to.) We have not followed above the peculiar and affected orthography of this writer, who was named Ro. Laneham, or rather Langhain. \ I sujjpose " Tonsure-wise," after the manner of the monks. 376 AN ESSAY ON after the freshness of the year now, gathered at the neck with a narrow gorget, fastened afore with a white clasp and a keeper close up to the chin ; but easily, for heat to undo when he list. Seemly begirt in a red caddis girdle : from that a pair of capped Sheffield knives hanging a' two sides. Out of his bosom drawn forth a lappet of his napkin* edged with a blue lace, and marked with a true love, a heart, and a D for Damian, for he was but a bat- chelor yet. " His gown had side {i. e. long) sleeves down to mid-leg, slit from the shoulder to the hand, and lined with white cotton. His doublet-sleeves of black worsted : upon them a pair of poynetsf of tawny chamlet laced alono; the wrist with blue threaden points, a wealt towards the hand of fustian-a-napes. A pair of red neather stocks. A pair of pumps on his feet, with a cross cut at the toes for corns : not new indeed, yet cleanly blackt with soot, and shining as a shoing horn. " About his neck a red ribband suitable to his girdle. His harp in good grace dependent before him. His wrest^! tyed to a green lace and hanging by. Under the gorget of his gown a fair flaggon chain (pewter,§ for) silver, as a squire minstrel of Middlesex, that travelled the country this summer season, unto fairs and worshipful mens houses. From his chain hung a scutcheon, with metal and colour, resplendant upon his breast, of the ancient arms of Islington." Tiiis minstrel is described as belong-inof to that _: \ ,, _ * /. Haliday and others are erected into a perpetual Gild, &c. See the original in Rjmer, xi. 642. By part of this record it is recited to be their duty to pray {exorarc : which it is presumed they did by assisting in the chant, and musical accompaniment, &c.) The same also appears from the passage in the Supplem. to Du Cange, alluded to above. " Minister . . . pro Ministcllus Joculator* — Vetus ceremoniale MS. B. M. deauratae Tolos. Item, etiam congre- gabuntur Piscatores, qui debent interesse isto die in processione cum Ministris seu Joculatoribus : quia ipsi Piscatores tenentur habere isto die Joculaiores, seu Mimos ob honorem Criccis — et vadunt primi ante processionem cum Ministris seu Joculatoribus semper pulsantibus usque ad ecclesiam S. Stephani" {G/oss. TJs)- This may perhaps account for the clerical appearance of the minstrels, who seem to have been distinguished by the tonsure, which was one of the inferior marks of the clerical character.! Thus Jeft'ery of Monmouth, speaking of one who acted the part of a minstrel, says, Hasit capillos sues cv barbam (see note k). Again, a writer in the reign of Elizabeth, describing the habit of an ancient minstrel, speaks of his head as " rounded tonster-wise " (which I venture to read tonsure-wise), " his beard smugly shaven." See above, p. 375. It must, however, be observed, that notwithstanding such clerical appearance of the minstrels, and though they might be sometimes countenanced by such of the clergy as were of more relaxed morals, their sportive talents rendered them generally ob- noxious to the more rigid ecclesiastics, and to such of the religious orders as were of more severe discipline ; whose writings commonly * Ministers seems to be used for minstrels in the account of the Inthronization of Abp. Neville (An. 6, Edw. IV.). " Then all the Chaplyns must say grace, and the ministers do sing." Vid. Lelandi Collectanea, by Heame, vol. vi. p. 13. t It has, however, been suggested to the editor by the learned and ingenious author of Irish Antiquities, 4to. that the ancient mimi among the Romans had their heads and beards shaven, as is shown by Salmasius in Notis ad Hist. August. Scriptorcs VI. Paris,. 1622, fol. p. 385. So that this peculiarity had a classical origin, though it aftenvards might make the minstrels sometimes pass for ecclesiastics, as appears from the instance given below. Dr. Bur- ney tells us that histriones and ;;////// abounded in France in the time of Charlemagne (ii. 221), so that their profession was handed down in reguhr succession from the time of the Romans, and therewith some leading distinctions of their habit or appearance ; yet with a change in their arts of pleasing, wliich latterly were most confined to singing and music. 384 AW TBS ON THE abound with heavy complaints of the great encouragement shewn to those men by the princes and nobles, and who can seldom afford them a better name than that of sciirra;, famelici, nebulones, &c. of which innumerable instances may be seen in Du Cange. It was even an established order in some of the monasteries, that no minstrel should ever be suffered to enter their gates.* We have, however, innumerable particulars of the good cheer and great rewards given to the minstrels in many of the convents, which are collected by T. Warton (i. 91, &c.) and others. But one instance, quoted from Wood's Hist. Antiq. Univ. Ox. i. 67. (Sub. An. 1224) deserves particular mention. Two itinerant priests, on a supposition of their being minii or minstrels, gained admittance. But the cellarer, sacrist, and others of the brethren, who had hoped to have been entertained with their diverting arts, &:c. when they found them to be only two indigent ecclesiastics, who could only administer spiritual consolation, and were conse- quently disappointed of their mirth, beat them and turned them out of the monastery. {Ibid. p. 92.) This passage furnishes an ad- ditional proof that a minstrel might by his dress or appearance be mistaken for an ecclesiastic. (b) The minstrels tise mimicry and actioji, and other means of diverting, &^c.'\ It is observable that our old monkish historians do not use the words cantator, citharcedus, musicus, or the like, to express a minstrel in Latin, so frequently as mimus, hist?'io, Jociilator, or some other word that implies gesture. Hence it might be inferred that the minstrels set off their songs with all the \' arts of gesticulation, &c. or according to the ingenious hypothesis of Dr. Brown, united the powers of melody, poem, and dance. (See his History of the Rise of Poetry, &c.) But indeed all the old writers describe them as exercising various arts of this kind. Joinville, in his Life of S. Lewis, speaks of some Armenian minstrels, who were very dextrous tumblers and posture masters. " Avec le Prince vinrent trois Menestriers de la Grande Hyermenie (Armenia) . . . . et avoient trois cors — Quand ils encommenceoient a corner, vous dissiez que ce sont les voix de cygnes, .... et fesoient les plus douces melodies. — lis fesoient trois merveilleus saus, car on leur metoit une touaille de- sous les piez, et tournoient tout debout. . . . Les deux tournoients * Yet in St. Mary's church at Beverley, one of the columns hath this inscription: " Thys Pillar made the Mynstrylls;" having its capital decorated with figures of five men in short coats ; one of whom holds an instrument resembling a lute. See Sir J. Hawkins' Hist. ii. 298. FOREGOING ESSAY. 385 les testes arieres," &c. (See the extract at large, in the Hon. D. Barrington's Obsert/ arte Ministrallatus instructos, should also be membris naturalibus elegantes. Seeabove,p. 370. ((9^jrrz'.w/M^^//r.6'/<7/. 4thedit. p.337.) ^ Although by minstrel was properly understood, in English, one who sung to the harp, or some other instrument of music, verses composed by himself or others ; yet the term was also applied by our old \vTiters to such as professed either music or singing sepa- rately, and perhaps to such as practised any of the sportive arts connected with these.* Music, however, being the leading idea, was at length peculiarly called minstrelsy, and the name of minstrel . at last confined to the musician only. ^ In the French language all these arts were included under the general name of menestraudie, menestraudise, Jofiglerie, &c. (Med. Lat. menestellorum ars, ars joeulatoria, &c.) " On pent com- prendre sous le nom de jonglerie tout ce qui appartient aux anciens chansonniers Provengaux, Normands, Picards, &c. Le corps de la jonglerie etoit forme des trouveres, ou troubadours, qui com- posoient les chansons, et parmi lesquels il y avoit des improrisateurs, comme on en trouve en Itahe; des chanteurs ou ehanteres qui executoient ou chantoient ces compositions ; des conteurs qui i faisoient en vers ou en prose les contes, les recits, les histoires; des jongleurs ou i?ienestrels qui accompagnoient de leurs instru- mens, — L'art de ces chantres ou chansonniers, etoit nomme la Science Gaie, Gay Saber!' (Pref. Anthologie Fran{. 1765, 8vo. p. 17.) See also the curious Fauchet {De i'Orig. de la Lang. Fr. p. 72, &c.) " Bien tost apres la division de ce grand empire Francois en tant de petits royaumes, duchez, & comtez, au lieu des Poetes commencerent a se faire cognoistre les trouverres, et chanterres, conteours, et jugleours : qui sont trouveurs, chantres, conteurs, jongleurs, ou jugleurs, c'est \ dire, menestriers chantans avec la viole." .-_^^ We see then Xh^X jongleur, Jugleur, {\.zX. joailator,juglator) was j a peculiar name appropriated to the minstrels. " Les jongleurs ' ne faisoient que chanter les poesies sur leurs instrumens. On les appelloit aussi Menestrels," says Fontenelle, in his Hist, du Theat. Franc, prefixed to his Life of Corneille. (C) Successors of the ancient bards.^ That the minstrels in many respects bore a strong resemblance both to the British bards * Vid. infra, not. A a. C C 386 NOTES ON THE and to the Danish scalds, appears from this, that the old monkish writers express them all without distinction by the same names in Latin. Thus Geoffrey of Monmouth, himself a Welshman, speak- ing of an old pagan British King, who excelled in singing and music so far as to be esteemed by his countr}'men the patron deity of the bards, uses the phrase Deus Joculatorum; which is the pe- culiar name given to the English and French minstrels.* In like manner, William Malmesbury, speaking of a Danish king's assum- ing the profession of a scald, expresses it by professus mimum ; which was another name given to the minstrels in middle latinity.f Indeed, Du Cange, in his Glossary, quotes a writer who positively asserts that the minstrels of the middle ages were the same with the ancient bards. I shall give a large extract from this learned glosso- grapher, as he relates many curious particulars concerning the pro- fession and arts of the minstrels ; whom, after the monks, he stig- matizes by the name of scurrce ; though he acknowledges their songs often tended to inspire virtue. " Ministelli, dicti prsesertim scurrce, Mimi, joculatores." .... " Ejusmodi scurrarum munus erat principes non suis duntaxat ludicris oblectare, sed et eorum aures variis avorum, adeoque ipsorum principum laudibus, non sine assentatione, cum cantilenis & musicis instrumentis demulcere " Interdum etiam virorum insignium & heroum gesta, aut ex- plicata & jocunda narratione commemorabant, aut suavi vocis inflexione, fidibusque decantabant, quo sic dominorum, caetero- rumque qui his intererant ludicris, nobilium animos ad virtutem capessendam, et summorum virorum imitationem accenderent : quod fuit olim apud Gallos bardorum ministerium, ut auctor est Tacitus. Neque enim alios a mmistellis, veterum Gallorum bardos fuisse pluribus probat Henricus Valesius ad 15 Ammiani Chronicon Bertrandi Guesclini. " Qui veut avoir renom des bons & des vaillans II doit aler souvent a la pluie & au champs Et estre en la bataille, ainsy que fu Rollans, Les Quatre Fils Haimon, & Charlon li plus grans, Li dus Lions de Bourges, & Guions de Connans Perceval li Galois, Lancelot, & Tristans, Alixandres, Artus, Godfroi li Sachans, De quoy cils menestriers font les nobles Romans." " Nicolaus de Braia describens solenne convivium, quo post inaugurationem suam proceres excepit Lud. VIII. rex Francorum, * Vid. Not. B. K. Q. t Vid. Note N. FOREGOING ESSAY. 387 ait inter ipsius convivii apparatum, in medium prodiisse mimum, qui regis laudes ad cytharam decantavit." Our author then gives the hnes at length, which begin thus, " Dumque fovent genium geniaH munere Bacchi, Nectare commixto curas removente Ly?eo Principis a facie, citharae celeberrimus arte Assurgit mimus, ars musica quem decoravit. Hie ergo chorda resonante subintuht ista : Inclyte rex regum, probitatis stemmate vernans, Quem vigor & virtus extolHt in Kthera famae," &c. The rest may be seen in Du Cange, who thus proceeds, " Mitto rehqua simiha, ex quibus omnino patet ejusmodi mimorum & ministellorum cantilenas ad virtutem principes excitasse Id prsesertim in pugnse praecinctu, dominis suis occinebant, ut martium ardorem in eomm animis concitarent : cujusmodi cantum Canti/cnam Rollandi appellat Will. Malmesb. lib. 3. Aimoinus, lib. 4. de Mirac. S. Bened. c 37. Tanta vero illis securitas .... ut scurram se precedere facerent, qui musico instrumento res fortiter gestas et priorum bella praecineret, quatenus his acrius incitarentur, &:c.' As the writer was a monk, we shall not wonder at his calling the minstrel, sairram. This word scurra, or some one similar, is represented in the Glossaries as the proper meaning of Icccator (Fr. leccoiir) the an- cient term by which the minstrel appears to be expressed in the Grant to Button, quoted above in page 363. On this head I shall produce a very curious passage, which is twice quoted in Du Cange's Glossary. (Sc. ad verb. Menestellus & ad verb. Lecator.) " Philippus Mouskes in Philip. Aug. fingit Carolum M. Provincie comitatum scurris & mimis suis olim donasse, indeque postea tantum in hac regione poetarum numerum excrevisse. " Quar quant li buens Rois Karlemaigne Ot toute mise a son dcmaine Provence, qui mult icrt plentive De vins, de bois, d'aigue, de rive, As leccoiirs as menestreus Qui sont auques luxuricus Lc donna toute et departi." (D) The poet and the minstrel early with us became tivo per- sons. The word scald comprehended both characters among the Danes, nor do I know that they had any peculiar name for either of them separate. But it was not so with the Anglo-Saxons. They called a poet 8ceop, and LeoSpypta : the last of these comes from 388 NOTES ON THE Leo^, a song ; and the former answers to our old word maker (Gr. t\oLr}TriQ), being derived from Scippan or Sceopan, formare, facere, fingere, creare (Ang. to shape). As for the minstrel, they distinguished him by the peculiar appellation of Elijman, and per- haps by the more simple title of ^eajnpejie, harper : (See below, notes H, I.) This last title, at least, is often given to a minstrel by our most ancient English rhymists. See in this work vol. i. book i. No. 6, vol. iii. book i. No. 7. A (E) Minstrels . . . at the houses of the great, 6^^.] Du Cange affirms, that in the middle ages the courts of princes swarmed so much with this kind of men, and such large sums were ex- pended in maintaining and rewarding them, that they often drained the royal treasures : especially, he adds, of such as were delighted with their flatteries {prcesertim qui ejusmodi ministellorum assentation- ibus delcctabantur). He then confirms his assertion by several pas- sages out of monastic writers, who sharply inveigh against this extravagance. Of these I shall here select only one or two, which show what kind of rewards were bestowed on these old songsters. "Rigordus de Gestis Philippi Aug. an. 1185. 'Cum in curiis regum seu aliorum principum, frequens turba histrionuro. convenire soleat, ut ab eis aurum, argentum, equos, seu vestes,* quos perssepe mutare consueverunt principes, ab eis extorqueant, verba jocula- toria variis adulationibus plena proferre nituntur. Et ut magis . placeant, quicquid de ipsis principibus probabiliter fingi potest, videlicet omnes delitias et lepores, et visu dignas urbanitates et cseteras ineptias, trutinantibus buccis in medium eructare non erubescunt. Vidimus quondam quosdam principes, qui vestes diu excogitatas, et variis florum picturationibus artificiose elaboratas, pro quibus forsan 20 vel. 30 marcas argenti consumpserant, vix re- volutis septem diebus, histrionibus, ministris diaboli, ad primam vocem dedisse, &c." The curious reader may find a similar, though at the same time a more candid account, in that most excellent writer, Presid. Fauchet {Recueil de la-Lang. Fr. p. 73), who says, that, like the * The minstrels in France were received with great magnificence in the fourteenth century. "Froissart describing a Christmas enter- tainment given by the Comte de Fpix, tells us, that " there were many mynstrels, as well of hys own, as of straungers, and cache of them dyd their devoyre in their faculties. The same day the Erie of Foix gave to haraulds and minstrelles the som of fyve hundred frankes : and gave to the Duke of Tourayns mynstreles gownes of clothe of gold, furred with ermyne, valued at two hundred frankes." B. iii. c. 31. Eng. Trans. Lond. 1525. (Mr. C.) FOREGOING ESSAY. 389 ancient Greek Aot^ot, " Nos trouverres, ainsi que ceux la, prenans leur subject sur les faits des vaillans (qu'ils appelloyent geste, venant de gesta Latin) alloy ent . . . par les cours rejouir les princes . . . Remportans des grandes recompences des seigneurs, qui bien souvent leur donnoyent jusques aux robes qu'ils avoyent vestues : & lesquelles ces jugleours ne failloyent de porter aux autres cours, h. fin d'inviter les seigneurs a pareille liberalite. Ce qui a dure si longuement, qu'il me souvient avoir veu Martin Baraton (ja viel menestrier d'Orleans) lequel aux festes et nopces batoit un tabourin d'argent, semd des plaques aussi d'argent gravees des armoiries de ceux a qui il avoit appris a danser." Here we see that a minstrel sometimes performed the function of a dancing- master. Fontenelle even gives us to understand, that these men were often rewarded \vith favours of a still higher kind. " Les princesses & les plus grandes dames y joignoient souvent leurs faveurs. Elles etoient fort foibles contreles beaux esprits." [Hist.du T/icat.) We are not to wonder then that this profession should be followed by men of the first quality, particularly the younger sons and brothers of great houses. " Tel qui par les partages de sa famille n'avoit que la moitie ou le quart d'une vieux chateaux bien seig- neurial, alloit quelque temps courir le monde en rimant, et revenoit acquerir le reste de Chateau.' {Fontenelle, Hist, du T/ieat.) We see then, that there was no improbable fiction in those ancient songs and romances, which are founded on the story of minstrels being beloved by kings' daughters, &c., and discovering themselves to be the sons of some sovereign prince, &c. (F) The honours and rewards lavished upon the minstrels were not confined to the continent. Our own countryman Johannes Sarisburiensis (in the time of Henry H.) declaims no less than the monks abroad, against the extravagant favour shown to these men. Non enim more nugatorum ejus seculi in histriones & mimos, et hujusmodi monstra hominum, ob famae redemptionem & dilata- tionem nominis cffunditis opes vestras, &c. {Epist. 247.*) The monks seem to grudge every act of munificence that was not applied to the benefit of themselves and their convents. They therefore bestow great applauses upon the Emperor Henry, who, at his marriage with Agnes of Poictou, in 1044, disappointed the poor minstrels, and sent them away empty. " Infinitam histrionum, & joculatorum multitudinem sine cibo & muneribus vacuam & m(i;rentem abire permisit." {Chronic. Virtziburg.) For which I doubt not but he was sufficiently stigmatized in the sougs and Et vid. Policraticon, cap. 8, &c. 390 NOTES ON THE ballads of those times. Vid. Du Cange, Gloss, torn, iv, p. 771, &c. (G) The annals of the Afiglo-Saxons are scanty and defec- tive.'] Of the few histories now remaining that were written be- fore the Norman Conquest, almost all are such short and naked sketches and abridgements, giving only a concise and general rela- tion of the more remarkable events, that scarce any of the minute circumstantial particulars are to be found in them : nor do they hardly ever descend to a description of the customs, manners, or domestic economy of their countrymen. The Saxon Chronicle, for instance, which is the best of them, and upon some accounts ex- tremely valuable, is almost such an epitome as Lucius Florus and Eutropius have left us of the Roman history. As for Ethelward, his book is judged to be an imperfect translation of the Saxon Chronicle;* and the Pseudo Asser, or Chronicle of St. Neot, is a poor defective performance. How absurd would it be then to argue against the existence of customs or facts, from the silence of such scanty records as these ! Whoever would carry his researches deep into that period of history, might safely plead the excuse of a learned writer, who had particularly studied the Ante-Norman his- torians. "Conjecturis (licet nusquam sine verisimili fundamento) aliquoties indulgemus . . . utpote ab historicis jejune nimis & indiligenter res nostras tractantibus coacti . . . Nostri . . . nuda factorum commemoratione plerumque contenti, reliqua omnia, sive ob ipsarum rerum, sive meliorum literarum, sive historicorum officii ignorantiam, fere intacta pr^tereunt." Vide plura in Frcefat. ad yElfr. Vitayn a Spelttian. Ox. 1678, fol. (H) Mi?istrels and harpers.'] That the harp (cithard) was the common musical instrument of the Anglo-Saxons, might be in- ferred from the very word itself, which is not derived from the British, or any other Celtic language, but of genuine Gothic original, and current among every branch of that people : viz. Ang.-Sax. peajipe, ^eappa; Iceland, harpa, haurpa; Dan. and Belg. harpe ; Germ, harpffe, harpfifa ; Gal. harpe ; Span, harpa ; Ital. arpa. (yid./un. Etym., Menage Etym. &c.) As also from this, that the word J>ea;ipe is constantly used, in the Anglo-Saxon versions, to express the Latin words cithara, lyra, and even cymbalum : the vfoxd psalmus itself being sometimes translated peajip j'anj, harp song. {Gloss, Jim. R. apnd Lye Anglo-Sax. Lexic.) / But the fact itself is positively proved by the express testimony of Bede, who tells us that it was usual at festival meetings for this * Vid. Nicolson's E?ig. Hist. Lib. &c. FOREGOING ESSAY. 391 instrument to be handed round, and each of the company to sing to it in his turn. See his Hist. Ecdcs. Anglor. Hb. iv. c. 24, where speaking of their sacred poet CKdmon, who lived in the times of the Heptarchy {ob. arc. 680) he says : " Nihil unquam frivoli & supervacui poematis facere potuit ; sed ea tantummodo, quK ad religionem pertinent, religiosam ejus linguam decebant. Siquidem in habitu sxculari, usque ad tempora provectioris aetatis constitutus, nil carminum aHquando didicerat. Unde nonnunquam in convivio, cum esset la^titiai causa ut omnes per ordinem cantare deberent, ille ubi appropinquare sibi citharam cemebat, surgebat a media coena, et egressus ad suam domum repedabat." I shall now subjoin King Alfred's own Anglo-Saxon translation of this passage, with a literal interlineary English version. Pe . . nspjie noht leaj-unja. ne ibelej' leo'Sej' pypcean ne mihre. Ife . . never no /casings, nor idle songs compose ne might ; ac epne ^a an Sa "Se ro nepej-cnej'j-e belumpon. •] but lo ! only those things 7uhich to religion {^icty\ belong, and hij- ^a a^pej'tan runjan jebapenobe j-injan : jjajj* he j-e man his then pious tongue became to sing : He was the [a] man in peojnolr-habe jej-eteb o'S Sa ribe Se he paep op in worldly [secular'] state set to the time in which he was of an jelypeojie ylbe. -3 he naeppe aeni5 leof geleofinobe. -] he advanced age; and he never any song learmd. And he pojijjon opr m jebeoppcipe Sonne Soep psep bhppe mrmja therefore oft in an entertainment when there 7vas for merriment jebemeb. ■f hi ealle pceolban "Suph enbeby- sake adjudged [or decreed], that they all should through their fibneppe be heafipan pmjan. Sonne he jepeah Sa heafipan turns by [to the] harp sing ; K'hen he sara the harp him nealaecan. Sonne ajiap he pop pceome pfiam Sam pymle him approach, then arose he FOR shame frotn the supper -] ham eobe ro hip hupe. and home y ode {luent] to his house. Bed. Hist. Eccl. a Smith. Cantab. 1722, fol. p. 597 In this version of Alfred's it is observable, (i) that he has ex- pressed the Latin word cantare, by the Anglo-Saxon words *' be heappan pinjan," sing to the harp ; as if they were synonymous, or 392 NOTES ON THE as if his countrymen had no idea of singing unaccompanied with the harp : (2) That when Bede simply says, surgebat a media coena, he assigns a motive, " apaj' poji j-ceome," arose for shame : that is, either from an austerity of manners, or from his being deficient in an accomplishment which so generally prevailed among his countrymen. (I) The word glee which peculiarly denoted their art, &'c^ This word glee is derived from the Anglo-Saxon trligs, (Gligg) musica, music, minstrelsy (Somn). This is the common radix, whence arises such a variety of terms and phrases relating to the minstrel-art, as affords the strongest internal proof, that this pro- fession was extremely common and popular here before the Nor- man Conquest. Thus we have I. (i) Elip (Gliw.), mimus, a minstrel. Iihjman, ^ligmon, jliman, (glee-man*) histrio, mimus, panto- mimus ; all common names in middle latinity for a minstrel ; and Somner accordingly renders the original by a minstrel — a player on a timbrel or taber. He adds, a fidler ; but although the fythel ox fiddle, was an ancient instrument, by which the Jogelar or min- * Gleeman continued to be the name given to a minstrel both in England and Scotland almost as long as this order of men con- tinued. In De Brunne's metrical version of Bishop Grosthead's Manuel de Feche, a.d. 1303 (see Warton, i. 61), we have this, Gode men, ye shall lere When ye any gleman here." Fabyan (in his Chronicle, 1533, f. 32.) translating the passage from Geoffrey of Monmouth, quoted below in p. 397 note (K) renders Deus Joailatomm, by God of Gleemen. (Warton's Hist. Eng. Poet. Diss, i.) Fabyan died in 1592. Dunbar, who lived in the same century, describing in one of his poems, intitled, The Daunce what passed in the infernal regions '* amangis the Feyndis," says : " Na menstralls playit to thame, but dowt. For gle-men thaire wer haldin out. Be day and eke by nycht." See Poems from Bannatyne's MS. Edinb. 1770, i2mo. p. 30. Maitland's MS. at Cambridge reads here gleive-men. FOREGOING ESSAY. 393 strel sometimes accompanied his song (see Warton, i. 17), it is probable that Somner annexes here only a modem sense to the word, not having at all investigated the subject. Irhimen, shismen, (Glee-men), histriones, minstrels. Hence, Ijlismanna-yppe. Orchestra, vel pidpitus. The place where the minstrels exhibited their performances. (2) But their most proper and expressive name was Chphleojjjiienb, musicus, a minstrel ; and lihphleojjjuenbhca, musiais, musical. These two words include the full idea of the minstrel character, expressing at once their music and singing, being compounded of Clip, musicus, mimus, a musician, minstrel; and LeoS, carmen, a song. (3) From the above word diss, the profession itself was called. Dhjcp^pr (glig or glee-craft), musica, histrionia, mitnica gesticulatio : which Somner rightly gives in English, ministrelsy, mimical gesticulation, mummery. He also adds stage-playing : but here again I think he substitutes an idea too modem, induced by the word histrionia, which in middle latinity only signifies the minstrel-art. However, it should seem that both mimical gesticulation and a kind of rude exhibition of characters were sometimes attempted by the old minstrels : but (4) As musical performance was the leading idea, so Chopian, is Canius musicos edere; and Dlijbeam, jhpbeam (glig or glee-beam), tytnpanum ; a timbrel or taber. (So Somn.) Hence Clypan. Tympatium puisare ; and Dlip-meben ; jhypienbe-maben ; (glee-maiden), tyfnpanistria : which Somner renders a she-minstrel ; for it should seem that they had females of this profession ; one name for which was also Elypbybenej-rpa. (5) Of congenial derivation to the foregoing is Jjlypc. (CAywc), Tibia, a pipe or flute. Both this and the common radix Elij^ are with great appear- ance of truth derived by Junius from the Icelandic Gliggur,y/a/«j; as supposing that the first attemj>ts at music among our Gothic an- cestors were with wind-instruments. Vid. Jun. Etym. Ang. v. Glee. II. But the minstrels, as is hinted above, did not confine themselves to the mere exercise of their primary arts of music and song, but L.- r 394 NOTES ON THE occasionally used many other modes of diverting. Hence, from the above root was derived, in a secondary sense : (i) Gleo, and pmj'um -^i^, facetia. ij\e:0])ia.n, j'ocari ; to jest, or, be merry (Somn.), and hlioyienb, j'ocans ; jesting, speaking merrily. (Somn.) lilijman, also signified /(^^j/a, a jester. Hhg-gamen, (glee-games), /(?;:/. Which Somner renders, merri- ments, or merry jests, or tricks, or sports, gamboles. (2) Hence, again, by a common metonymy of the cause for the effect : Irlie, gaudiiim, alacritas, Icetitia, faceticB ; joy, mirth, gladness, cheerfulness, glee. (Somner.) Which last application of the word still continues, though rather in a low debasing sense. III. But however agreeable and delightful the various arts of the minstrels might be to the Anglo-Saxon laity, there is reason to be- lieve, that before the Norman Conquest, at least, they were not much favoured by the clergy; particularly by those of monastic profession. For, not to mention that the sportive talents of these men would be considered by those austere ecclesiastics, as tending to levity and licentiousness, the pagan origin of their art would excite in the monks an insuperable prejudice against it. The Anglo-Saxon harpers and gleemen were the immediate successors and imitators of the Scandinavian scalds, who were the great promoters of Pagan superstition, and fomented that spirit of cruelty and outrage in their countrymen the Danes, which fell with such peculiar severity on the religious and their convents. Hence arose a third application of words derived from Irlijs, minstrelsy, in a very unfavourable sense, and this chiefly prevails in books of religion and ecclesiastic discipline. Thus : (i) dig is ludibrium, laughing to scorn.* So in S. Basil. Regul. II. ^1 haspbon him to jlije halpenbe mmegunje. ludibrio hahebant sahitarern ejus admonitiomn. (10.) This sense of the word was perhaps not ill-founded, for as the sport of rude un- cultivated minds often arises from ridicule, it is not improbable but the old minstrels often indulged a vein of this sort, and that of no very delicate kind. So again. * To gleek is used in Shakespeare for " to make sport, to jest," &c. FOREGOING ESSAY. 395 Dlij-man was also used to signify scurra, a saucy jester (Somn.) Dlij-jeorin, dicax, scurrilcs jocos supra qiicim par est amans. Officium Episcopale, 3. Ijhpian. Sairrilibus oblectafnentis indulgere; satrram agere. Ca- non. Edgar. 58. (2) Again, as the various attempts to please, practised by an order of men who owed their support to the public favour, might be considered by those grave censors, as mean and debasing : Hence came from the same root, Dlipep. Parasitus, assefitator; a fawner, a togger, a parasite, a flatterer.* (Somn.) IV. To return to the Anglo-Saxon word Ch^s : notwithstanding the various secondary senses in which this word (as we have seen above) was so early applied ; yet The derivative ^/(f^ (though now chiefly used to express merriment and joy) long retained its first simple meaning, and is even appUed by Chaucer to signify music and minstrelsy. (Vid. Jun. Etym.) Kg. " For though that the best harper upon live Would on the best sounid jolly harpe That evir was, with all his fingers five Touch aie o string, or aie o warble harpe Were his nailes pointed nevir so sharpe It shoulde makin every wight to dull To heare isg/ee, and of his strokes full." Troy/. L. ii. Junius interprets glees by musica instrumenia, in the following passages of Chaucer's third boke of Fame : — * The preceding hst of Anglo-Saxon words, so full and copious beyond any thing that ever yet appeared in print on this subject, was extracted from Mr. Lye's curious Anglo-Saxon Lexicon, in MS. but the arrangement here is the Editor's own. It had how- ever received the sanction of Mr. Lye's approbation, and would doubtless have been received into his printed copy, had he lived to publish it himself it should also be observed, for the sake of future researches,^ that without the assistance of the old English interi)retations given by Somner, in his Anglo-Saxon Dictionary, the J^ditor of the book never could have discovered \.\\di\. glee signified minstrelsy, or glig man a minstrel. 396 NOTES ON THE " . . Stoden . . the castell all aboutin Of all maner of tnynstrales Kn^jestours that tellen tales Both of wepyng and of game, And of all that longeth unto fame : There herde I play on a harpe That sowned both well and sharpe Hym Orpheus full craftily ; And on this syde fast by Sate the harper Orion ; And Eacides Chirion ; And other harpers many one, And the Briton Glaskyrion." After menti oning these, the great masters of the art, he proceeds : — " And small harpers with her glees Sat under them in divers sees.'' ***** Again, a little below, the poet having enumerated the performers on all the different sorts of instruments, adds : — " There sawe I syt in other sees Playing upon other sundry glees, Which that I cannot neven * More than starres ben in heven," &c. Upon the above lines I shall only make a few observations : (i) That by jestours, I suppose we are to understand gestours ; scil. the relaters of gests (Lat. gestd) or stories of adventures both comic and tragical ; whether true or feigned ; I am inclined to add, whether in prose or verse. (Compare the record below, in marginal note, subjoined to v. 2.) Of the stories in prose, I conceive we have specimens in that singular book the Gesta Romanoriim, and this will account for its seemingly improper title. These were evidently what the French called conteours, or story-tellers, and to them we are probably indebted for the first prose romances of chivalry, which may be considered as specimens of their manner. (2) That the " Briton Glaskeryon," whoever he was, is apparently the same person with our famous harper Glasgerion, of whom the * Neven, i.e. name. FOREGOING ESSAY. 397 reader will find a tragical ballad, ia vol. iii. book i, No. 7. In that song may be seen an instance of what was advanced above in note (E) of the dignity of the minstrel profession, or at least of the artifice with which the minstrels endeavoured to set off its im- portance. Thus '• a king's son is represented as appearing in the character of a harper or minstrel in the court of another king. He wears a collar (or gold chain) as a person of illustrious rank ; rides on horseback, and is admitted to the embraces of a king's daughter." The minstrels lost no opportunity of doing honour to their art. (3) As for the word glees, it is to this day used in a musical sense, and applied to a peculiar piece of composition. Who has not seen the advertisements, proposing a reward to him who should produce the best catch, canon, or glee ? (K) Comes from the pen of Geoffrey of Monmouth.'] Geof- frey's own words are : " Cum ergo alterius modi aditum [Baldul- phus] non haberet, rasit capillos suos et barbam,* cultumque joculatoris cum cythara fecit. Deinde intra castra deambulans, modulis quos in lyra componebat, sese cytharistam exhibebat." Galf Monum.Hist. 4to. 1508, lib. vii. c. i. — That>' his harp, and even to sing to his music, we have many instances in the old metrical romances, and even some in this present collection. See vol. i. song vi., vol. iii. song vii., &c. Among the French and Provencal bards, the trouverre, or inventor, was generally attended with his singer, who sometimes also played on the harp, or other musical instrument. " Quelque fois durant le repas d'un prince on voyoit arriver un trouverre inconnu avec ses menestrels ou jongleours^ et il leurfaisoit chanter sur leurs harpes ou vielles les vers qu'il avoit composes. Ceux qui faisoient les sons aussi bien qui les 7nots etoient les plus estimds." Fontenel/e, Hist, du Theatr. That Alfred excelled in music is positively asserted by Bale, who doubtless had it from some ancient MS. many of which sub- sisted in his time, that are now lost ; as also by Sir J. Spelman, who we may conclude had good authority for this anecdote, as he is known to have compiled his life of Alfred from authentic materials collected by his learned father ; this writer informs us that Alfred " provided himself of musitians, not common, or such as knew but the practick part, but men skilful in the art itself, whose skill and service he yet further improved with his own instruction." p. 199. This proves Alfred at least to have understood the theory of music \ and how could this have been acquired without practis- ing on some instrument? Which, we have seen above, note (H), was so extremely common with the Anglo-Saxons, even in much ruder times, that Alfred himself plainly tells us, it was shameful to be ignorant of it. And this commonness might be one reason, why Asser did not think it of consequence enough to be particularly mentioned in his short life of that great monarch. This rigid monk may also have esteemed it a slight and frivolous accomplish- ment savouring only of worldly vanity. I le has however particularly recorded Alfred's fondness for the oral Anglo-.Saxon poems and songs. {Saxonica puematu die noctcque . . . audiens . . . memoritcr 400 NOTES ON THE retinebat, p. i6. Carmina Saxonica memoriter discere, &c. p. 43, and ib^ Now the poems learnt by rote, among all ancient unpolished nations, are ever songs chanted by the reciter, and accompanied with instrumental melody.* (N) With his harp in his hand, and dressed like a minstrel. Assumpta manu cithara . . . professus mimum, qui hujusmodi arte stipem quotidianam mercaretur . . . Jussus abire pretium cantus accepit. Malmesb. 1. 2, c. 6. We see here that which was rewarded was (not any mimicry or tricks, but) his singing {cantus); this proves beyond dispute, what was the nature of the entertainment Aulaff afforded them. Perhaps it is needless by this time to prove to the reader, that mimus in middle latinity signifies a minstrel, and mimia, minstrelsy, or the minstrel-art. Should he doubt it, let him cast his eye over the two following extracts from Du Cange. " Mimus : Musicus qui instrumentis musicis canit. Leges Pa- latinae Jacobi II. Reg. Majoric. In domibus principum, ut tradit antiquitas mimi seu joculatores licite possunt esse. Nam illorum officiam tribuit lutitiam . . . Quapropter volumus et ordinamus, quod in nostra curia mimi debeant esse quinque, quorum duo sint tubicinatores, et tertius sit tabelerius (i. e. a player on the tabor.) f * Thus Leob, the Saxon word for a poem, is properly a song, and its derivative lied signifies a ballad to this day in the German tongue. And cantare we have seen above is by Alfred himself rendered, Be heajipan f msan. t The tabour or tabourin was a common instrument with the French minstrels, as it had also been with the Anglo-Saxon {vid. p. 393) : thus in an ancient Fr. MS. in the Harl. collection (2253, 75), a minstrel is described as riding on horseback, and bearing his tabour. " Entour son col porta son tabour, Depeynt de Or, e riche Agour," See also a passage in Menage's Diction. Etym. (v. inenestriers,') where labours is used as synonymous to menestriers. Another frequent instrument with them was the viele. This, I am told, is the name of an instrument at this day, which differs from a guitar, in that the player turns round a handle at the top of the instrument, and with his other hand, plays on some keys, that touch the chords, and produce the sound. See Dr. Burney's account of the veille, vol. ii. p. 263, who thinks it the same with the rote or wheel. See p. 270 in the note. " II ot un Jougleor a Sens, Qui navoit pas sovent robe entiere ; Sovent estoit sans sa viekr — Fabliaux 6^ Cont. ii. 184, 5. FOREGOING ESSAY. 401 Lit. remiss, ann. 1374. Ad mimos comicitantes, seu bucinantes accesserunt." Mimia, Ludus Mimicus, Instrumentum (potius, Ars Joculatoria). Ann. 1482. ..." Mimia /!>YW<77 of Errors in Brooke s Catalogue of Nobility, &c. folio, pp. 445-6, (Sec. Take the following extract, and see Dug- dale's Baron, i. p. 175. " Ela uxor Gullielmi Longespee primi, nata fuit apud Ambresbi- riam, patre et matre Normannis. " Pater itaque ejus defectus senio migravit ad Christum, a.d. i 196. Mater ejus ante biennium obiit Interea Domina charissima clam per cognatos adducta fuit in Normanniani, & ibidem sub tuta et arcta custodia nutrita. Eodem tempore in Anglia fuit qui- dam miles nomine Gulielmus Talbot, qui induit se habitum Pere- grini {Anglice, a Pilgrim) in Normanniani transfretavit & moratus per duos annos, hue atque illuc vagans, ad explorandam dominam Elam Sarum. Et ilia inventa, exuit habitum Peregrini, & induit se quasi Cytharisator & curiam ubi morabatur intravit. Et ut erat homo Jocosus, in Gestis Antiquorum valde peritus, ibidem * Jogeler (Lat. Joculator) was a very ancient name for a min- strel. Of what nature the performance of the joculator was, we may learn from the register of St. Swithin's Priory at Winchester (T. Warton, i. 69) : " Et cantabat Joculator quidam nomine Here- bertus Canticum Colbrondi, necnon Gestum Emme regine a judicio ignis liberate, in aula Prioris." His instrument was sometimes the fythele, or fiddle, Lat. fidicula : which occurs in the Anglo- Saxon lexicon. On this subject we have a curious passage from a MS. of the LiTCS of the Saints in metre, sujjposed to be earlier than the year 1200 (T. Warton's Hist. i. \). 17), viz. : '• Christofre him served longe The kynge loved melodye much of fithele and of songe : So that his Jogeler on a day beforcn liini gon to pleye fasle, And in a tyme he nemped in his song the devil at laste." 4IO NOTES ON THE gratanter fuit acceptus quasi familiaris. Et quando tempus aptum invenit, in Angliam repatriavit, habens secum istam venerabilem dominam Elam & hseredem Comitatus Sarum; & earn Regi Richardo praesentavit. Ac ille laetissime earn suscepit, & Fratri suo Guillelmo Longespee maritavit .... A.D. 1226 Dominus Guill. Longespee primus nonas Martii obiit. Ela vero uxor ejus 7 annis supervixit .... Una die Duo monasteria fundavit primo mane xvi Kal. Maii. a.d. 1232. apud Lacock, in quo sanctse degunt Canonissas . . . Et Henton post nonam, anno vero aetatis suae, xlv. &c." (W) For the preceding account Dugdale refers to Monast. Angl. i. (r. ii.) p. 185, but gives it as enlarged by D. Powel, in his Hist. of Cambria, p. 196, who is known to have followed ancient Welsh MSS. The words in the Monasticon are : " Qui accersitis Sutoribus Cestrije et Histrionibus, festinanter cum exercitu suo venit domino suo facere succursum. Walenses vero videntes multitudinem mag- nam venientem, relicta obsidione fugerunt Et propter hoc dedit comes antedictus .... Constabulario dominationem Suto- rum et Histrionum. Constabularius vero retinuit sibi et haeredi- bus suis dominationem Sutorum : et Histrionum dedit vero Sene- schallo." So the passage should apparently be pointed; but either et or vero seems redundant. We shall see below in note (Z) the proper import of the word htstrwnes ; but it is very remarkable that this is not the word used in the grant of the constable De Lacy to Button, but " magisterium omnium leccatorum tX. meretricium totius Cestreshire, sicut liberius ilium {sic) magisterium teneo de comite" {vid. Blount's Ancient Ten- ures, p. 156). Now, as under this grant the heirs of Button con- fessedly held for many ages a magisterial jurisdiction over all the minstrels and musicians of that county, and as it could not be conveyed by the word meretrices, the natural inference is, that the minstrels were expressed by the term leccatores. It is true, Bu Cange compiling his Glossary could only find in the writers he consulted this word used in the abusive sense, often applied to every synonyme of the sportive and dissolute minstrel, viz. Sciirra, vaniloquus, parasitus, epido, &c. (This I conceive to be the proper arrangement of these explanations, which only express the character given to the minstrel elsewhere : see Bu Cange, passim, and notes, C. E. F. L iii. 2, &c.) But he quotes an ancient MS. in French metre, wherein the leccour (Lat. ieccator) and the minstrel are joined together, as receiving from Charlemagne a grant of the territory of Provence, and from whom the Provencal troubadours were derived, &c. See the passage above in note C. P- 387- The exception in favour of the family of Button is thus ex- FOREGOING ESSAY. 411 pressedin the statute, Anno 39, YX\z. chap. iv. entitled, " An Act for punshment of Rogues, Vagabonds, and Sturdy Beggars." " § I . . . . All fencers, bearwards, common players of enter- ludes, aid minstrels, wandering abroad (other than players of enterluces belonging to any baron of this realm, or any other honounole personage of greater degree, to be authorised to play under tie hand and seal of arms of such baron or personage) : all juglers, inkers, pedlers, &c. . . . shall be adjudged and deemed rogues, agabonds, and sturdy beggars, &c. " § X Provided always that this act, or any thing therein con- tained, a any authority thereby given, shall not in any wise extend to disinherit, prejudice, or hinder John Dutton of Dutton, in the county d" Chester, Esquire, his heirs or assigns, for, touching or concemhg any liberty, preheminence, authority, jurisdiction, or inheritarre, which the said John Dutton now lawfully useth, or hath, or lawfully may or ought to use within the county-palatine of Chestr, and the county of the city of Chester, or either of them, by reason of any ancient charters of any kings of this land, or by rea:on of any prescription, usage, or title whatsoever." The sane clauses are renewed in the last act on this subject, passed in he present reign of George III. (X) Eiward I. .... at the knighting of his son, &'c.'] See Nic. Trirdi Anna/cs, Oxon. 1719, 8vo. p. 342. " In fesb Pentecostes Rex filium suum armis militaribus cinxit, (S: cum ec Comites Warenniae & Arundeliae, aliosque, quorum numerus cucentos & quadraginta dicitur excessisse. Eodem die cum sedissit Rex in mensa, novis militibus circumdatus, ingressa MinistreHo-um Multitudo, portantium multiphci omatu amictum, ut milites pra^cipue novos invitarent, & inducerent, ad vovcndum factum arniDrum aliquod coram signo." (Y) By in express regulation, 6-v.] See in Heame's Append/, ad Lelandi Zollcctari. vol. vi. p. 36. " A Dietarie, Writtes published after the OrJinance of Earles and Barons, Anno Dom. 13 15." *' Edwaro by the grace of God, (ic. to sheriffes, 6i:c., greetyng. Forasmuch is . . . many idle persons, under colour of mynstrelsie, and going w messages, and other faigned busines, have ben and yet be receai^ed in other mens houses to meate and drynke, and be not therwith contented yf they be not largely consydered with gyftes of the Lordei of the houses, &c. . . . We wyllyng to restrayne .such outrageous tnterpriscs and idlencs, &c. have ordeyned . . . that to the house; of prelates, earles, and barons, none resort to meate and drynke, unless he be a mynstrel, and of these minstrels that there come none except it be three or four minstrels ol honour at the most in one day, unlesse he be desired of the Lorde of the 412 NOTES ON THE house. And to the houses of meaner men that none comeunlesse he be desired, and that such as shall come so, holde thenselves contented with meate and drynke, and with such curtesE as the maister of the house wyl shewe unto them of his owne gcod wyll, without their askyng of any thyng. And yf any one doagaynst this ordinaunce, at the firste tyme he to lose his minstresie, and at the second tyme to forsweare his craft, and neve to be receaved for a minstrell in any house . . . Yeven at Laigley the vi. day of August, in the ix yere of our reigne." These abuses arose again to as great a height as evei in little more than a century after ; in consequence, I suppost, of the licentiousness that crept in during the civil wars of York md Lan- caster. This appears from the charter, 9 E. IV. referred to in p. xlv. " Ex querulosa insinuatione . . . Ministrallorum rostrorum accepimus qualiter nonnuUi rudes agricolse & artifices dversarum misterarum regni nostri Angliae, finxerunt se fore ministrdlos, quo- rum aliqui liberatam nostram eis minime datam portarert, seipsos etiam fingentes esse minstrallos nostros proprios, cujiB quidem liberatas ac dictee artis sive occupationis ministrallorum ;olore, in diversis partibus regni nostri prsedicti grandes pecunia^um exac- tiones de ligeis nostris deceptive coUigunt, &c." Abuses of this kind prevailed much later in Wales, is appears from the famous commission issued out in 9 Eliz. (1567) for be- stowing the silver harp on the best minstrel, rythmer, ir bard, in the principality of North Wales : of which a fuller accomt will be given below in note (b b 3). (Z) // is thus related by Stow.] See his Survey )f London, &c. fol. 1633, p. 521 (Ace. of Westm. Hall). Stow had this pass- age from Walsingham's Hist. A/fg. ..." Intravit quaadam mulier ornata histrionali habitu, equum bonum insidens listrionaliter phaleratum, quae mensas more histrionum circuivit; & tandem ad Regis mensam per gradus ascendit, & quandam lit;ram coram rege posuit, & retracto fraeno (salutatis ubique discimbentibus) prout venerat ita recessit," &c. Anglic. Norm. Script &c. Franc. 1603, fol. p. 109. It may be observed here, that minstrels and others cften rode on horseback up to the royal table, when the kings were feasting in their great halls. See in this vol. book i. No. 6. The answer of the porters (when they were afterwards blamed for admitting her) also deserves attention. " Non essemoris domus regiae histriones ab ingressu quomodolibet prohibeie, &c." Wal- singh. That Stow rightly translated the Latin word Iwtrio here by minstrel., meaning a musician that sung, and whose subjects were stories of chivalry, admits of easy proof; for in the Gest& Romanorum, FOREGOING ESSAY. 41 '\ chap. Lxi. jMercur>- is represented as coming to Argus in the cha- racter 3f a minstrel; when he " incepit, more liistrionico {zkya\:x% dicere et plerumque cantare." (T. Warton, iii. p, li.) And Muratri cites a passage, in an old Italian chronicle, wherein men- tion iimade of a stage erected at Milan: "Super quo histriones cantibjit, sicut modo cantatur de Rolando et Oliverio." Antich. Ital. i p. 6. {Observ. on the Statutes, 4th edit. p. 362.) Seedso (E) p. 388. (F) p. 389. (A 3 T/icre should seem to have been womcfi of this professioti.'] This lay be inferred from the variety of names appropriated to them n the Middle Ages, viz. Anglo-Sax. Dlip-meben(Glee- maide), &c. slypienbemaben, glypbybenej'tjia. (vid. supra, p. 393.) Yx. Jengleresse, •M.td.. \j3X. joculatrix, mimstralissa, fcemina ministrialis, &c. (vid. Du Cange, Gloss. &= Suppl.) Seevhat is said in p. 371 concerning the "sisters of the fraternity of mintrels;" see also a passage quoted by Dr. Bumey (ii. 315) from luratori, of the chorus of women singing thro' the streets accomanied -with musical instruments in 1268. Ha( the female described by Walsingham been a tofnbestere, or dancii^-woman (see Tyrwhitt's Chaucer, iv. 307, and v. Gloss.) that historin would probably have used the word saltatrix (see T. Warto, i. 240, note ;«.) Thee saltatrices were prohibited from exhibiting in churches and chrch-yards along w\.\h joculatores, histriones, with whom they were smetimes classed, especially by the rigid ecclesiastics, who censurd, in the severest terms, all these sportive characters (vid. T. Wion in loco citato, and vide supra (not. E, F, &c.). Andhere I would observe, that although Fauchet and other subseqent writers affect to arrange the several members of the minstn profession under the different classes oitrovcrres {or trouba- (iours)yhanterres, conteours, and jugleurs, &c. (vid. p. 385) as if they w^e distinct and separate orders of men, clearly distinguished from edi other by these appropriate terms, we find no sufficient ground for this in the oldest writers ; but the general names in Latin, t'strio, mimus, joculator, ministrallus, &c. in French, niene- strier, tencstrel, jongleur, jugleur, &c. and in English, joQ;clciir, vigler, instrels, and the like, seem to be given them indiscrimi- nately, ind one or other of these names seem to have been some- times aplied to every species of men, whose business it was to entertai or divert {joculari) whether with poesy, singing, music, or gestiilation, singly, or with a mixture of all these. Yet as all men of is sort were considered as belonging to one class, orilcr or comrjnity (many of the above arts being sometimes exercised by the une person), they had all of them doublkss the same privilege and it ecjually throws light upon the general history of 414 NOTES ON THE the profession to shew what favour or encouragement was gven, at any particular period of time, to any one branch of it. I h,ve not therefore thought it needful to inquire whether, in the various passages quoted in these pages, the word minstrel, &c. isilways to be understood in its exact and proper meaning of a singei to the harp, &c. That men of very different arts and talents were include( under the common name of minstrels, &c. appears from a vaiety of authorities. Thus we have metiestrels de trompes and fnaesfrels deboiiche in the suppl. to Du Cange, c. 1227, and it appars still more evident from an old French rhymer, whom I shall aote at large : " Le Quens* manda les Menestrels; Et si a fet f crier entre els. Qui la meillor trufife % sauroit Dire, ne faire, qu'il auroit Sa robe d'escarlate nueve. L'uns Menestrels a I'autre reuve Fere son mestier, tel qu'il sot, Li uns fet I'yvre, I'autre sot ; Li uns chante, li autre note ; Et li autres dit la riote ; Et li autres la jenglerie ;|| Cil qui sevent de jonglerie Vielent par devant le Conte ; Aucuns ja qui fabliaus conte II i ot dit mainte risee," &c. Fabliaux et Conies, 12 mo. torn. iip. 161. And what species of entertainment was afforded by th(ancient juggleurs we learn from the following citation from an old jmance, written in 1230: " Quand les tables ostees furent C'W juggleurs in pies esturent S'ont vielles, et harpes prisees Chansons, sons, vers, et reprises Et gestes chante nos ont." Sir J. Hawkins, ii. 44, from Andr. du Chetie. See also 'yrwhitt's Chaucer, iv. p. 299. All the before mentioned sports went by the genen name of * Le Compte. t f^it- Sornette, a gibe, a jest, or flouting II y angler ie, babillage, raillerie. FOREGOING ESSAY. 415 ministralcia ministellorum /utiicra, &c. — Charta an. 1377, apud Rymer, vii. p. 160. " Peracto autem prandio, ascendebat 1). Rex in cameram suam cum Praelatis Magnatibus & Proceribus praedictis : & deinceps Magnates, Milites & Domini, aliique Generosi diem ilium, usque ad tempus ccKUDe, in tripudiis, coreis & solempnibus Ministralciis, prce gaudio solempnitatis illius continuarunt." (Du Cange, Gloss. 773.) This was at the coronation of K. Richard II. It was common for the minstrels to dance, as well as to harp and sing (see above, note E, p. 389) ; thus in the old Romance of Tirantf f/ BIanio,Y3.\. 1 511, the 14th cap. lib. 2, begins thus : "Despuesqui las Mesas fueron algadas vinieron los Ministriles; y delante del rey, y de la Reyna dan^:aron un rato : y despues truxeron colacion." They also probably, among their other feats, played tricks of slight of hand, hence the word jugler came to signify a performer of legerdemain ; and it was sometimes used in this sense (to which it is now appropriated) even so early as the time of Chaucer, who in his Squire's Tale, (ii. 108) speaks of the horse of brass, as : " like An apparence ymade by som magike, As/ogelours plaien at thise festes grete." See also the Frere's Tale, i. p. 279, v. 7049. (a a 2.) Females playing on the harp.'] Thus in the old romance of "Syr Degore (or Degree," No. 22, iii. appendix) we have (Sign. D. i.): " The lady, that was so faire and bright, Upon her bed she sate down ryght ; She harped notes swete and fine. (Her mayds filled a piece of wine.) And Syr Degore, sate him downe, For to hear the harpes sowne." The 4th line being omitted in the pr. copy, is supplied from the folio MS. In the Squyr of lowe Degree (No. 24, iii. appendix) the king says to his daughter (Sign. D. i.): " Ye were wont to harpe and syng. And be the meryest in chamber comyng." In the Carle of Carlisle, (No. 10. iii. appendix) we have the following passage (folio MS. p. 451, v. 217). " Downe came a lady faire and free. And sett her on the Carles knee : One whiles shec harjjcd another whiles song, IJoth of paramours anfl louinge amonge." 4i6 NOTES ON THE And in the Romance of Eger and Grime (No. 1 2, iii. appendix), we have {ibid. p. 127, col. 2) in part i. v. 263 : " The ladye fayre of hew and hyde Shee sate downe by the bed side Shee laid a souter (psaltry) vpon her knee Theron shee plaid full lovesomelye. .... And her 2 maydens sweetlye sange." A similar passage occurs in part iv. v. 129 (p. 136.) — But these instances are sufficient. (Bb.) A charter . ... to appoint a king of the minstrels.'] Intitled Carta Le Roy de ministraulx (in Latin histriones vid. Plott. p. 437.) A copy of this charter is printed in Monast. Anglic, i. 355, and in Blount's Law Diction. 1717 (art. king). That this was a most respectable officer, both here and on the continent, will appear from the passages quoted below, and there- fore it could only have been in modern times, when the proper meaning of the original terms ministraulz, and histriones was for- got, that he was called king of the fidlers ; on which subject see below, note (e e 2) Concerning the king of the minstrels we have the following curious passages collected by Du Cange, Gloss, iv. 773 : " Rex Ministellorum ; supremus inter ministellos: de cujus mu- nere, potestate in cseteros ministellos agit Charta Henrici IV. Regis Anghae in Monast. Anglicano, tom. i. p. 355. Charta originaHs an. ^2>Z^- Jc Robert Caveron Roy des Menestreuls du Royaume de France. Aliae ann. 1357. & 1362. Copin de Brequin Roy des .Menestres du Royaume de France. Computum de auxiliis pro redemptione Regis Johannis, ann. 1367. Pour une couronne d'argent qu'il donna le jour de la Tiphaine au roy des menestrels. " Regestum Magnorum Dierum Trecensium an. 1296. Super quod Joannes dictus Charmillons Juglator, cui dominus Rex per suas literas tanquam Regem Juglatorum in civitate Trecensi Magisterium Juglatorum, quemadmodum suae placeret voluntati, concesserat." Gloss, c. 1587. There is a very curious passage in Pasquier's Recherches de la France., Paris, 1633, folio, liv. 7. ch. 5, p. 611, wherein he appears to be at a loss how to account for the title of Le Roy assumed by the old composers of metrical romances ; in one of which the author expressly declares himself to have been a minstrel. The solution of the difficulty, that he had been Le Roy des Menestrels, will be esteemed more probable than what Pasquier here advances ; for I have never seen the title of prince given to a minstrel, &c. scil. — " A nos vieux Poetes . . . comme . . fust qu'ils eussent certain jeux de prix en leurs Poesies, ils . . honoroient du nome, tantot de FOREGOING ESSAY, 417 roy, tantot de prince, celuy qui avoit le mieux faict comme nous voyons entre les archers, arbalestiers, & harquebusiers estre fait le semblable. Ainsi I'autheur du Roman d'Oger le Danois, s'ap- pelle Roy. " Icy endroict est cil Livre finez Qui des enfans Oger est appellez Or vueille Diex qu'il soit parachevez En tel maniere kestre n'en puist blamez Le Roy Adams (r. Adenes) ki il' est rimez. " Et en celuy de Cleomades, " Ce Livre de Cleomades Rime-je le Roy Adenes Menestre au bon Due Henry. " Mot de Roy, qui seroit tres-mal approprie' a un menestrier, si d'ailleurson ne le rapportoit a un jeu du priz : Et de faict il semble que de nostre temps, il y en eust encores quelque remarques, en ce que le mot de jouingleur s'estant par succession de temps tourn^ en batelage nous avons veu en nostre jeunesse les Jouingleurs se trouver a certain jour tous les ans en la ville de Chauny en Picardie, pour faire monstre de leur mestrier devant le monde, a qui mieux. Et ce que j'en dis icy n'est pas pour vilipender ces anciens Rimeurs, ainsi pour monstrer qu'il n'y a chose si belle qui ne s'aneantisse avec le temps." We see here that in the time of Pasquier the poor minstrel was sunk into as low estimation in France, as he was then or after- wards in England : but by his apology for comparing the jouin- gleurs, who assembled to exercise their faculty, in his youth, to the ancient rimeurs, it is plain they exerted their skill in rhyme. As for king Adenes^ or Adencz (whose name in the first passage above is corruptly printed Adams), he is recorded in the Bibliothhiue des Romans, Amst. 1734, i2mo. vol. i. p. 232, to have composed the two romances in verse above-mentioned, and a third intided Le Roman de Berlin: all three being preserved in a MS. written about 1270. His Bon Due Henry I conceive to have been Henry Duke of Brabant. (B b 2.) Khig of the minstrels, 6^^.] See Anstis's Rea^ster of the Order of the Garter, ii. p. 303, who tells us: " The President or Governour of the minstrels had tlie like denomination oi roy in France and Burgundy : and in England, John of Gaunt constituted such an officer by a patent ; and long before his time i)a\incnts were made by the crown, to [a] king of the minstrels by Kdw. L ' Regi Roberto Ministrallo scutifero ad armacommoranti ad vadia Regis anno 5to.' {Bibl. Cotton. Vespas. c. 16, f 3), as likewise EE 4i8 NOTES ON THE {Libra Garderob. 25, e. i): ' Ministrallis in die nuptiarum comitissae Holland filise Regis, Regi Pago, Johanni Vidulatori &c. Morello Regi, &c. Druetto Monthaut, and Jacketto de Scot. Regibus, cuilibet eorum xls.' Regi Pagio de Hollandia, &c. under Ed. II. We like- wise find other entries, ' Regi Roberto et aliis ministrallis facientibus menistrallias (ministralcias, qu.) suas coram Rege. {Bibl. Cotton. Nero. c. 8, p. 84 b. Comp. Garderob?) That king granted, 'Willielmo de Morlee dicto Roy de North, Ministrallo Regis, domos quae fuerunt' Johannis le Boteler dicti Roy Brunhaud {Pat. de terr. forisfad. 16. E. 3)." He adds below, (p. 304) a similar instance of a rex juglatoriim, and that the " king of the minstrels" at length was styled in France roy des violons, (Furitiere, Diction. Univers.) as with us " king of the fidlers," on which subject see below, note (EC 2) (B b 3.) The statute 4 Hen. IV. (1402) c. 27, runs in these terms : " Item, pur eschuir plusieurs diseases et mischiefs qont advenuz de- vaunt ces heures en la terre de Gales par plusieurs westours rymours, minstrabc et autres vacabondes, ordeignez est et establiz qe nul westour, rymour ministral ne vacabond soit aucunement sustenuz en la terre de Gales pur faire kymorthas ou coillage sur la commune poeple illoeques." This is among the severe laws against the Welsh, passed during the resentment occasioned by the out- rages committed under Owen Glendour; and as the Welsh bards had excited their countrymen to rebellion against the English government, it is not to be wondered that the act is conceived in terms of the utmost indignation and contempt against this class of men, who are described as rymours, ministralx, which are apparently here used as only synonymous terms to express the Welsh bards with the usual exuberance of our acts of parliament ; for if their ministralx had been mere musicians, they would not have required the vigilance of the English legislature to suppress them. It was their songs exciting their countrymen to insurrection which pro- duced " les diseases & mischiefs en la terre de Gales." It is also submitted to the reader, whether the same appHcation of the terms does not still more clearly appear in the commission issued in 1567, and printed in Evan Evans's Specimens of Welsh Poetry, 1764, 4to. p. v. for bestowing the silver harp oij "the chief of that faculty." For after setting forth " that vagrant and idle persons, naming themselves minstr-els, rytJwiers, and bards, had lately grown into such intolerable multitude within the Principa- lity in North Wales, that not only gentlemen and others by their shameless disorders are oftentimes disquieted in their habitations, but also expert mi?istrels and musicians in tongue and cunynge there- by much discouraged, &c." and " hindred [of] livings and prefer- ment," &c. it appoints a time and place, wherein all " persons that FOREGOING ESSAY. 419 intend to maintain their living by name or colour of viiustnis, rythmers, or bards within five shires of North ^^^'^les, shall appear to show their learnings accordingly," &c. And tlie commissioners are required to admit such as shall be found worthy, into and under the degrees heretofore in use, so that they may " use, exer- cise, and follow the sciences and faculties of their professions in such decent order as shall appertain to each of their degrees." And the rest are to return to some honest labour, &:c. upon pain to be taken as sturdy and idle vagabonds, &c. (B b 4.) Holinshed translated this passage from Tho. de Elm- ham's Vita ct Gesta Henrici V. scil. : " Soli Omnipotenti Deo se velle ^•ictoriam imputari ... in tantum, quod cantus de sue triumpho fieri, seu per Citharistas vel alios quoscuncjue cantari penitus prohibebat,"' (Edit. Heamii, 1727, p. 72). As in his version Holinshed attributes the making, as well as singing ditties to minstrels, it is plain he knew that men of this profession had been accustomed to do both. (C c.) The Houshold Book, (S^^.] See Section v. " Of the noumbre of all my lords servaunts." "Item, ■M\Tistrals in Houshold iii. viz. a taberet, a luyte, and a Rebecc." (The rebeck was a kind of fiddle with three strings). "Sect. XLIV. 3. " Rewardes to his lordship's Servaunts, &c. " Item, My lord usith ande accustomith to gyf yerly, when his lordschipp is at home, to his minstrallis that be daily in his hous- hold, as his tabret, lute, ande Rebeke, upon New Yeresday in the momynge when they do play at my lordis chamber dour for his lordschip and my lady, xxi". viz. xiii^r. \\d. for my lord ; and \\s. \\\\ii. for my lady, if sche be at my lords fyndynge, and not at hir owen ; And for playing at my lordis sone and heire's cham- ber doure, the lord Percy, \\s. And for playinge at the cliamber doures of my lords yonger sonnes, my yonge masters, after \\\\d. the pecc for every of them. — xxiiij-. \\\\d. " Sect. XLIV. 2. " Rewards to be geven to strangers, as Players, Mynstralls, or any other, &c. " Furst, my lorde usith and accustomyth to gif to the kings jugler; .... when they custome to come unto hym yerly, vij-. viii) '• ^1" though we are also told by Bevil Higgons, that St. Brice's Eve was still celebrated by the northern English in commemoration of this massacre of the Danes, the women beating brass instruments, and singing old rhimes, in praise of their cruel ancestors. See his Short View of Eng. History, 8vo. p. 1 7. (The preface is dated 1734.) (t) /<5/^. p. 32. THE ENGLISH STAGE. 447 his counselling and contriving the plot to dispatch them, concluding with the contiicts above mentioned, and their final suppression — " expressed in actions and rhimes after their manner,"(/) one can hardly conceive a more regular model of a compleat drama; and, if taken up soon after the event, it must have been the earliest of the kind in Europe. (f) Whatever this old play, or " storial show," (/•) was at the time it was exhibited to O. Elizabeth, it had probably our young Shakespeare for a spectator, who was then in his twelfth year, and doubtless attended with all the inhabitants of the surrounding country at these " princely pleasures of Kenelworth,"(/) whence Stratford is only a few miles distant. And as the Queen was much diverted with the Coventry play, " whereat her Majestic laught well," and rewarded the performers with two bucks, and five marks in money, who, " \vhat rejoicing upon their ample reward, and what triumphing upon the good acceptance, vaunted their play was never so dignified, nor ever any players before so beatified ;" but especially if our young bard afterwards gained admittance into the castle to see a play, which the same evening, after supper, was there " presented of a very good theme, but so set forth by the actors' well handling, that pleasure and mirth made it seem very short, though it lasted two good hours and xnorQ'Xm) we may imagine what an impression was made on his infant mind. Indeed the dramatic cast of many parts of that superb entertainment which continued nineteen (/) T..ineham, p. 33. (t) The Rhiiitcs, &c., prove this play to have been in English : whereas Mr. Tho. Warton thinks the mysteries composed before 1328 were in Latin. Malone's Shakesp. vol. ii. pt. ii. p. 9. (k) Laneham, p. 32. (/) See Nichols's Progresses, vol. i. p. 57. \rn) Laneham, p. 38-39. This was on Sunday evening, July 9. 448 ON THE ORIGIN OF days, and was the most splendid of the kind ever attempted in this kingdom ; the addresses to the Queen in the personated characters of a sybille, a savage man, and Sylvanus, as she approached or departed from the castle, and on the water by Arion, a Triton, or the Lady of the Lake, must have had a very great effect on a young imagination whose dramatic powers were hereafter to astonish the world. But that the historical play was considered by our old writers, and by Shakespeare himself, as distinct from tragedy and comedy, will sufficiently appear from various passages in their works. *' Of late days," says Stow, " in place of those stage-playes {f^ hath been used comedies, tragedies, enterludes, and histories both true and fayned."(d?) Beaumont and Fletcher, in the prologue to The Captain, say : " This is nor Comedy, nor Tragedy, Nor History." Polonius in Hamlet commends the actors as the best in the world, " either for tragedie, comedie, his- toric, pastorall," &c. And Shakespeare's friends, Heminge and Condell, in the first folio edit, of his plays, in i62 3,(/') have not only intitled their book " Mr. William Shakespeare's Comedies, His- tories, and Tragedies," but in their table of con- tents have arranged them under those three several heads ; placing in the class of histories " K. John, Richard IL Henry IV. 2 pts. Henry V. Henry (m) The Creation of the World, acted at Skinner's-well in 1409. (0) See Stow's Survey of London, 1603, 4to. p. 94 (said in the title-page to be "written in the year 1598"). See also Warton's Observations on Spenser, vol. ii. p. 109. (/) The same distinction is continued in the second and third folios, &c. THE ENGLISH STAGE. 449 VI. 3 pts. Rich. III. and Henry VIII.", to which they might have added such of his other plays as have their subjects taken from the old chronicles, or Plutarch's Lives. Although Shakespeare is found not to have been the first who invented this species of drama,(^) yet he cultivated it with such superior success, and threw upon this simple inartificial tissue of scenes such a blaze of genius, that his histories maintain their ground in defiance of Aristotle and all the critics of the classic school, and will ever continue to interest and instruct an English audience. Before Shakespeare wrote, historical plays do not appear to have attained this distinction, being not mentioned in O. Elizabeth's licence in I574(;') to James Burbage and others, who are only impowered " to use, exercyse, and occupie the arte and facul- tye of playenge Commedies, Tragedies, Enterludes, Stage-Playes, and such other like." But when Shakespeare's histories had become the ornaments of the stage, they were considered by the publick, and by himself, as a formal and necessary species, and are thenceforth so distinguished in public instru- ments. They are particularly inserted in the licence granted by K. James I. in 1603,(5) to W. Shake- speare himself, and the players his fellows ; who are authorized " to use and exercise the arte and faculty of playing Comedies, Tragedies, Histories, Inter- ludes, Morals, Pastorals, Stage- Plaies, and such like." The same merited distinction they continued to maintain after his death, till the theatre itself was extinguished : for they are expressly mentioned in a warrant in 1622, for licensing certain " late Come- {q) See Malone's Shakesp. vol. i. pari ii. p. 31 (r) Ibid. p. 37. {.s) Ibid. p. 40. G G 450 ON THE ORIGIN OF dians of Q. Anne deceased, to bring up children in the qualitie and exercise of playing Comedies, His- tories, Interludes, Morals, Pastorals, Stage-Plaies, and such like."(") The same appears in an admonition issued in 1637 if) by Philip, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery, then Lord Chamberlain, to the master and wardens of the Company of Printers and Sta- tioners, wherein is set forth the complaint of his Majesty's servants the players, that " diverse of their books of Comedyes and Tragedyes, Chronicle- Historyes, and the like," had been printed and pub- lished to their prejudice, &c. This distinction, we see, prevailed for near half a century ; but after the Restoration, when the stage revived for the entertainment of a new race of auditors, many of whom had been exiled in France, and formed their taste from the French theatre, Shakespeare's histories appear to have been no longer relished ; at least the distinction respecting them is dropt in the patents that were immediately granted after the king's return. This appears not only from the allowance to Mr. William Beeston in June, i66o,(?/;) to use the house in Salisbury-court " for a Play-house, wherein Comedies, Tragedies, Tragi-comedies, Pas- toralls, and Interludes, may be acted," but also from the fuller grant (dated August 21, i76o),(z/) to (*) See Malone's Shakesp. vol. i. part ii. p. 49. Here histories, or historical plays, are found totally to have excluded the mention of tragedies ; a proof of their superior popularity. In an order for the King's comedians to attend King Charles I. in his summer's progress, 1636 {ibid. p. 144), histories are not particularly men- tioned ; but so neither are tragedies : they being briefly directed to " act playes, comedyes, and interludes, without any lett," &c. if) Ibid. p. 139. {u) This is beheved to be the date by Mr. Malone, vol. ii. part ii. p. 239. {v) Ibid. p. 244. THE ENGLISH STAGE. 451 Thomas Kllligrew, Esq., and Sir William Davenant, Knt., by which they have authority to erect two companies of players, and to fit up two theatres " for the representation of Tragydies, Comedyes, Playes, Operas, and all other entertainments of that nature." But while Shakespeare was the favourite dramatic poet, his histories had such superior merit that he might well claim to be the chief, if not the only his- toric dramatist that kept possession of the English stage ; which gives a strong support to the tradition mentioned by Gildon,(ec') that, in a conversation with Ben Jonson, our bard vindicated his his- torical plays by urging, that as he had found " the nation in general very ignorant of history, he wrote them in order to instruct the people in this par- ticular." This is assigning not only a good motive, but a ver)^ probable reason for his preference of this species of composition ; since we cannot doubt but his illiterate countrymen would not only want such instruction when he first began to write, notwith- standing the obscure dramatic chroniclers who pre- ceded him, but also that they would highly profit by his admirable lectures on English history so long as he continued to deliver them to his audience. And as it implies no claim to his being \\\^ first who introduced our chronicles on the stage, I see not why the tradition should be rejected. Upon the whole we have had abundant proof that both Shakespeare and his contemporaries considered his histories, or historical plays, as of a legitimate distinct species, sufficiently separate from tragedy and comedy, a distinction which deserves the |)ar- ticular attention of his critics and commentators ; (w) See Malone's Shakesp. vol. vi. \^. 427. This ingenious writer will, with his known lilicnility, cxnise the (iiffLTcncc of opinion here entertained concerning the above tradition. 452 ON THE ORIGIN OF who, by not adverting to it, deprive him of his proper defence and best vindication for his neglect of the unities, and departure from the classical dramatic forms. For, if it be the first canon of sound criticism to examine any work by whatever rule the author prescribed for his own observance, then we ought not to try Shakespeare's histories by the general laws of tragedy or comedy. Whether the rule itself be vicious or not is another inquiry : but certainly we ought to examine a work only by those principles according to which it was composed. This would save a deal of impertinent criticism. V. We have now brought the inquiry as low as was intended, but cannot quit it without entering into a short description of what may be called the ceconomy of the ancient English stage. Such was the fondness of our forefathers for dramatic entertainments, that not fewer than nine- teen playhouses had been opened before the year 1633, when Prynne published his Histrioviastix.{a) From this writer it should seem that " tobacco, wine, and beer,"(<5) were in those days the usual accom- {d) He speaks in p. 492 of the playhouses in Bishopsgate-street and on Ludgate-hill, which are not among the seventeen enu- merated in the preface to Dodsley's Old Plays. Nay, it appears from Rymer's MSS. that twenty-three playhouses had been at different periods open in London ; and even six of them at one time. See Malone's Shakesp. vol. i. pt. ii. p. 48. (b) So, I think, we may infer from the following passage, viz. : "■ How many are there, who, according to their several qualities, spend 2d. 2,d. 4^- 6^. i2d. iSd. 2s. and sometimes 4^'. or 5^-. at a play-house, day by day, if coach-hire, boat-hire, tobacco, wine, beere, and such like vaine expences, which playes doe usually occasion, be cast into the reckoning ? " Prynne's Histriom. p. 322. But that tobacco was smoaked in the play-houses appears fi-om Taylor the Water-poet, in his Proclamation for Tobacco's Propaga- THE ENGLISH STAGE. 453 modations in the theatre, as within our memory at Sadler's Wells. With regard to the players themselves, the several companies were (as hath been already shewn), {c) re- tainers or menial servants to particular noblemen, (^f) who protected them in the exercise of their profes- sion : and many of them were occasionally strollers, that travelled from one gentleman's house to another. Yet so much were they encouraged, that, notwith- standing their multitude, some of them acquired large fortunes. Edward Allen, who founded Dul- wich College, is a known instance. And an old writer speaks of the very inferior actors, whom he calls the hirelings, as living in a degree of splen- iion : " Let play-houses, drinking-schools, taverns, &c. be con- tinually haunted with the contaminous vapours of it ; nay (if it be possible) bring it into the churches, and there choak up their preachers."' ( Works, p. 253.) And this was really the case at Cambridge: James I. sent a letter in 1607 against "taking To- bacco" in St. Mary's. So I learn from my friend Dr. Farmer. A gentleman has informed me that once, going into a church in Holland, he saw the male part of the audience sitting with their hats on, smoking tobacco, while the preacher was holding forth in his morning-gown. {c) See the extracts above, in p. 439, from the E. of Norlhumb. Hoiishold Book. (d) See the Preface to Dodsley's 0/d Plays. The author of an old invective against the stage, called A third Blast of Rdrait from Plates, &c., 1580, i2mo., says: " Alas ! that private affection should so raigne in the nobilitie, that to pleasure their servants, and to upholde them in their vanitye, they should restrainc the magistrates from executing their office I . . . They [the nobilityj are thought to be covetous by permitting their servants ... to live at the devotion or almes of other men, passing from countrie to countrie, from one gentleman's house to another, offering their service, which is a kind of beggerie. Who indeede, to speakc more trulie, are become beggers for their servants. For comonlie the good-wil, men beare to their Lordes, makes them draw the strings of their purses to extend their liberalilie." Vid. p. 75, 76, &c. 454 ON THE ORIGIN OF dour which was thought enormous in that frugal age.(^) At the same time the ancient prices of admission were often very low. Some houses had penny- benches. (/*) The "two-penny gallery" is men- tioned in the prologue to Beaumont and Fletcher's Woman Hater ; {^j and seats of three-pence and (e) Stephen Gosson, in his Schoole of Abuse, 1579, i2mo., fol. 23, says thus of what he terms in his margin Players-men : '"'Over lashing in apparel is so common a fault, that the very hyerlings of some of our Players, which stand at revirsion of \\s. by the week, jet under gentlemens noses in sutis of silke, exercising themselves to prating on the stage, and common scoffing when they come abrode, where they look askance over the shoulder at every man, of whom the Sunday before they begged an almes. I speake not this, as though everye one that professeth the qualitie so abused himselfe, for it is well knowen, that some of them are sober, dis- creete, properly learned, honest housholders and citizens, well- thought on among their neighbours at home." [he seems to mean Edw. Allen above mentioned] " though the pryde of their sha- dowes (I mean those hangbyes, whom they succour with stipend) cause them to be somewhat il-talked of abroad." In a subsequent period we have the following satirical fling at the shewy exterior and supposed profits of the actors of that time. Vid. Greene's Groatszvorth of Wit, 1625,410. : "What is your profession?" — " Truly, Sir, ... I am a Player." "A Player? ... I took you rather for a Gentleman of great living; for, if by outward Habit men should be censured, I tell you, you would be taken for a substantial man." " So I am where I dwell .... What, though the world once went hard with me, when I was fayne to carry my playing-fardle a foot-backe : Tevipora ?nutantnr .... for my very share in playing apparrell will not be sold for two hundred pounds .... Nay more, I can serve to make a pretty speech, for I was a country Author, passing at a Moral," &c. See Roberto's Tale, sign. D. 3. b. (_/) So a MS. of Oldys, from Tom Nash, an old pamphlet-writer. And this is confirmed by Taylor the Water-poet, in his Praise of Beggerie, p. 99 : " Yet have I seen a beggar with his many, [sc. vermin] Come at a play-house, all in for one penny." {g) So in the Belman's Night- Walks by Decker, 16 16, 4to. : " Pay thy two-pence to a player, in this gallery thou mayest sit by a harlot." THE ENGLISH STAGE. 455 a groat seem to be intended in the passage of Prynne above referred to. Yet different liouses varied in their prices : that playhouse called the "Hope" had seats of five several rates, from six- pence to half-a-crown.(//) But a shilling seems to have been the usual price if) of what is now called the pit, which probably had its name from one of the playhouses having been a cock-pit.(/') The day originally set apart for theatrical exhibi- tion appears to have been Sunday, probably because the first dramatic pieces were of a religious cast. During a great part of Queen Elizabeth's reign, the pla}houses were only licensed to be opened on that day :(/) but before the end of her reign, or soon after, this abuse was probably removed. (//) Induct, to Ben Jonson's Barthohnneii'-fair. An ancient sa- tirical piece called The Blacke Book, Lond, 1604, 4to., talks of " The six-penny roomcs in play-houses ;" and leaves a legacy to one whom he calls " Arch-tobacco-taker of England, in ordinaries, upon stages both common and private." (/) Shakesp. Prol. to Hen. P7//.— Beaum. and Fletch. Prol. to the Captain, and to the Mad-lover. {k) This etymology hath been objected to by a very ingenious writer (see Malone's Shakesp. vol. i. part ii. p. 59), who thinks it questionable, because, in St. Mary's church at Cambridge, the area that is under the pulpit, and surrounded by the galleries, is {no7c>) called the pit ; which, he says, no one can suspect to have been a Cock-pit, or that a playhouse phrase could be applied to a church. But whoever is acquainted with the licentiousness of boys, will not think it impossible that they should thus ai)ply a name so peculiarly expressive of its situation : which from frccjucnt use might at length prevail among the senior members of the University ; especially when those young men became seniors themselves. The name of Pit, so apjjlied at Cambridge, must be deemed to have been a cant phrase, until it can be shewn that the area in other churches was usually so called. (/) .So Ste. Gosson, in his Schoole of Abuse, 1579, i2mo., speak- ing of the players, says, " These, because they are allowed to i)lay every Sunday, make iiii. or v. Sundayes at least every week," fol. 24. So the author of A Second and Third Blast of Retrait from 456 ON THE ORIGIN OF The usual time of acting was early in the after- noon, (^i^^) plays being generally performed by day- light. (72) All female parts were performed by men, no English actress being ever seen on the public stage {0) before the civil wars. Plaies, 1580, i2mo. "Let the magistrate but repel them from the libertie of plaeing on the Sabboth-daie To plaie on the Sabboth is but a priviledge of sufferance, and might with ease be repelled, were it thoroughly followed.'"' P. 61-62. So again: " Is not the Sabboth of al other dales the most abused ? . . . . Wherefore abuse not so the Sabboth-daie, my brethren ; leave not the temple of the Lord." .... "Those unsaverie morsels of unseemehe sentences passing out of the mouth of a ruffenhe plaier, doth more content the hungrie humors of the rude multitude, and carrieth better rellish in their mouthes, than the bread of the worde, &c." Vid. p. 63, 65, 69, &c. I do not recollect that ex- clamations of this kind occur in Prynne, whence I conclude that this enormity no longer subsisted in this time. It should also seem, from the author of the Third Blast above quoted, that the churches still continued to be used occasionally for theatres. Thus, in p. 77, he says, that the players (who, as hath been observed, were servants of the nobility), "under the title of their maisters, or as reteiners, are priviledged to roave abroad, and permitted to publish their mametree in everie temple of God, and that throughout England, unto the horrible contempt of praier." {in) " He entertaines us" (says Overbury in his Character of an Actor) " in the best leasure of our Hfe, that is, betweene meales ; the most unfit time either for study or bodily exercise." Even so late as in the reign of Charles II. plays generally began at three in the afternoon. {ti) See Biogr. Brit. i. 1 1 7, n. D. {p) I say " no English actress ... on the public stage," because Prynne speaks of it as an unusual enormity, that " they had French- women actors in a play not long since personated in Blackfriars playhouse." This was in 1629, vid. p. 215. And tho' female parts were performed by men or boys on the pubHc stage, yet in masques at Court, the Queen and her ladies made no scruple to perform the principal parts, especially in the reigns of James 1. and Charles I. Sir William Davenant, after the restoration, introduced women, scenery, and higher prices. See Cibber's Aplogy for his own Life. THE ENGLISH STAGE. 457 Lastly, with regard to the playhouse furniture and ornaments, a writer of King- Charles II.'s time,(y^) who well remembered the preceding age, assures us that in general " they had no other scenes nor de- corations of the stage, but only old tapestry, and the stage strewed with rushes, with habits accord- ingly." (^) Yet Coryate thought our theatrical exhibitions, &c,, splendid when compared with what he saw abroad. Speaking of the Theatre for Comedies at Venice, he says : " The house is very beggarly and base in comparison of our stately playhouses in England, neyther can their actors compare with ours for apparrell, shewes, and musicke. Here I observed certaine things that I never saw before : For I saw women act, a thing that I never saw before, though I have heard that it hath been some- times used in London ; and they performed it with as good a grace, action, gesture, and whatsoever convenient for a player, as ever I saw any mascu- line actor."(r) It ouofht, however, to be observed, that amid such a multitude of playhouses as subsisted in the metro- (/) See A Short Discourse on the English Stage, subjoined to Flecknoe's Love's Kingdofn, 1674, i2mo. {q) It appears from an ei)igram of Taylor the Water-poet, that one of the principal theatres in his time, viz. the Globe on the Bankside, Southwark (which Ben Jonson calls the " Glory of the Bank, and Fort of the whole Parish"), had been covered with thatch till it was burnt down in 16 13. (See Taylor's Sculler, Epig. 22, p. 31. ]onsovv% Execration on Vulcan.) Puttenham tells us they used vizards in his time, "partly to supply the want of players, when there were more parts tlian llicre were persons, or that it was not thought meet to trouble .... jjrinces chambers with too many folkes." \Art of Eng. Foes. 1589, p. 26.1 Prom the last clause, it should seem that they were chielly used in the masfjues at Gourt. (r) Coryate's Crudities, 4to. 1611, p. 247. 458 THE ENGLISH STAGE. polis before the Civil Wars, there must have been a great difference between their several accommoda- tions, ornaments, and prices ; and that some would be much more shewy than others, though probably all were much inferior in splendor to the two great theatres after the Restoration. 1^ The preceding Essay, although some of the materials are new arranged, hath received no alteration deserving notice, from what it was in the second edition, 1767, except in section IV, which in the present impression hath been much enlarged. This is mentioned, because, since it was first published, the history of the English stage hath been copiously handled by Mr. Tho. Warton in his History of English Poetry, 1774, &c., 3 vols. 4to. (wherein is inserted whatever in these volumes fell in Avith his subject) ; and by Edmond Malone, Esq., who, in his Historical Account of the English Stage {Shakesp. vol. i. part ii. 1790), hath added greatly to our knowledge of the oeconomy and usages of our ancient theatres. [This Essay is now entirely out of date, on account of the mass of new material for a complete history of the English stage, which has been printed since it was written. Information on the subject must be sought in the prefaces of the various editions of the dramatists and of the collections of mysteries and miracle plays, or in Collier's History of English Dramatic Poetry, and Halliwell's New Materials for the Life of Shakespeare.~] INDEX OF BALLADS AND POEMS IN THE FIRST VOLUME. DAM BELL, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudesley, 153. Aged Lover renounceth Love, 179. Alcanzor and Zayda, 338. Bryan and Pereene, 328. Carre, Captain, 148. Cauline, Sir, 61. Character of a Happy Life, 317. Chevy Chase, Ancient Ballad of, ig. Chevy Chace, Modern Ballad of, 249. Child of Elle, 131. Cophetua, King, and the Beggar Maid, 189. Corj'don's Farewell to Phillis, 209. Cupid's Pastime, 314. Death's Final Conquest, 264. Dowsabell, 304. Edom o' Gordon, 140. Edward, Edward, 82. Estmere, King, 85. Farewell to Love, 310. Friar of (Jrders Gray, 242. PYolicksome Duke, or the Tinker's Good Fortune, 238. Gentle River, Gentle River, ^^t. Gernutus, the Jew of Venice, 211. Gilderoy, 318. 46o INDEX. Jephthah, Judge of Israel, 182. Jew's Daughter, 54. Lancelot du Lake, Sir, 204. Leir, King, and his Three Daughters, 231. My Mind to me a Kingdom is, 294. Northumberland (Henry, 4th Earl of), Elegy on, 117. Northumberland betrayed by Douglas, 279. Otterbourne, Battle of, 35. Passionate Shepherd to his Love, 220. Patient Countess, 298. Rising in the North, 266. Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne, 102. Robyn, Jolly Robyn, 185. Song to the Lute in Musicke, 187. Spence, Sir Patrick, 98. Take those Lips away, 230. Take thy old Cloak about thee, 195. Titus Andronicus's Complaint, 224. Tower of Doctrine, 127. Ulysses and the Syren, 311. Willowj Willow, Willow, 199. Winifreda, 323. Witch of Wokey, 325. Youth and Age, 237. END OF VOLUME THE FIRST. CHISWICK PRESS : — PRINTED BY WHITTINGHAM AND WILKfNS, TOOKS COURT, CHANCBRY LANE, tr\ 1 University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 • Box 951388 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. jiO'iAu LiSfiAfiy f-AClLlTY A A 000 309 451 3 3 1 58 00903 68E J AUFORNIA LES