3RARY PKOTY OP i oieeo V5 1 Bfoljop $m\>'8 folio MB* IBallatis ana Romances. Vol. M. LONDOi. : FEINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET Btsljojp $)erq>'fi o dFolto JHantmrtpt BallaDe. anD Romance©. EDITED BY JOHN W. HALES, M.A. .FELLOW AND LATE ASSISTANT-TUTOR OP CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE AND FREDERICK J. FURNIVALL, M.A. OF TRINITY HALL, CAMBRIDGE. (assisted by Prof. CHILD, of Harvard Univ., U.S. ; W. CHAPPELL, Esq., Sic. &c.) >7oh M. LONDON : N. TRUBNER & CO., 60 PATERNOSTER ROW. 1868. PREFACE Corrections. Preface, line 4, for Grey read Guy Page xl ,, 1, for villan read villans „ xlvii. The quotation, Sect. 189, is from Littleton translated 1, line 1, for wines read wiues „ 18, 21, hulde means ' flay ' liv ,, 1, cut out be „ 26, for English history read early history lviii ,, 3, Redde quod debes belongs to line 2 note \for line 12 read page lxi, line 2 „ lix, line 21, for ser ued read seraed lx „ 25, for saves read save lxxi .. 2, /or Horn rrafl Horn Percy Ballads, Vol. II. selves as to his probable amount of alteration in the other parts. The folio version of Bell my Wiffe — a ballad to which Shak- spere's quotation of it in Othello has secured immortality — is believed to be the earliest known ; and as it just filled a page PREFACE TO THE SECOND VOLUME. As the first volume was specially that of Arthur and Grawaine, of Eobin Hood and his great compeer, now almost forgotten, ' Eandolph, Erl of Chestre,' so this second volume is specially that of Sir Grey, who did such mighty deeds for England, and the pathos of whose death in his hermit's cell near Warwick has never yet been worthily sung. But the Arthur and Grawaine stories are here continued in The Grene Knight, the Boy and Mantle, and Libius Disconius ; and we have besides, in the present volume, versions of some of the best of our English ballads, Chevy Chase, Childe Waters, Bell my Wife, Bessie off Bednall, &c. Of one of the best of them, King Estmere, Percy's ruthless hands (p. 200, note) have prevented us giving the MS. version of the folio. We have been unable to find any other MS. or printed copy of this ballad, and have therefore been obliged to put side by side in an appendix Percy's two printed versions of it, with all their differences from each other marked in italics, so that readers may judge for them- selves as to his probable amount of alteration in the other parts. The folio version of Bell my Wiffe — a ballad to which Shak- spere's quotation of it in Othello has secured immortality — is believed to be the earliest known ; and as it just filled a page PREFACE TO THE SECOND VOLUME. As the first volume was specially that of Arthur and Grawaine, of Eobin Hood and his great compeer, now almost forgotten, ' Eandolph, Erl of Chestre,' so this second volume is specially that of Sir Grey, who did such mighty deeds for England, and the pathos of whose death in his hermit's cell near Warwick has never yet been worthily sung. But the Arthur and Grawaine stories are here continued in The Grene Knight, the Boy and Mantle, and Libius Disconius ; and we have besides, in the present volume, versions of some of the best of our English ballads, Chevy Chase, Childe Waters, Bell my Wife, Bessie off Bednall, &c. Of one of the best of them, King Estmere, Percy's ruthless hands (p. 200, note) have prevented us giving the MS. version of the folio. We have been unable to find any other MS. or printed copy of this ballad, and have therefore been obliged to put side by side in an appendix Percy's two printed versions of it, with all their differences from each other marked in italics, so that readers may judge for them- selves as to his probable amount of alteration in the other parts. The folio version of Bell my Wiffe — a ballad to which Shak- spere's quotation of it in Othello has secured immortality — is believed to be the earliest known ; and as it just filled a page PREFACE TO THE SECOND VOLUME. in the MS. it was chosen for photolithographing, and an im- pression of it will be given with Vol. III. for Vol. I. John de Reeue is (among other pieces) here printed for the first time, and if it can be taken in any degree as a picture of the bondman's condition at the time it represents, or even the time it was written, it is of considerable historical value. At any rate, it shows us a merry scene of early English life. Conscience's tale is of a darker tint, but is valuable for its sketch of the corruptions of its times. The other historical ballads treat of fights and plots abroad and at home — of Agincourt, Buckingham's Fall, the Siege of Cadiz, Durham Field, Northumberland besieged by Douglas, &c. &c, — but none of them are of more than average merit. Mr. Hales has written all the Introductions, except those to Coles Voyage (for which the Editors are indebted to Mr. John Bruce, the Director of the Camden Society), to Earle Bodwell (which is reprinted from the first edition of Bishop Percy's Reliques), to Boy and Mantle (which is reprinted from Pro- fessor Child's Ballads), and the following by Mr. Furnivall : Come, Come ; Conscience ; Ac/incourte Battell; and Libius Dis- conius. Mr. Hales has also written the Introductory Essay on The Eevival of Ballad Poetry in the Eighteenth Century. For the text Mr. Furnivall is, as before, mainly responsible, and has to thank Mr. W. A. Dalziel for his help in reading the copy and proof with the MS. The contractions of the MS. are printed in italics in the text. To the Eevs. Alexander Dyce, W. W. Skeat, J. Eoberts, and Archdeacon Hale ; to Messrs. Chappell, Bruce, T. Wright, Planche, and Jones, the Editors tender their thanks for help in divers ways. February 4, 1868. CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME. PAGE THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY . V ON " BONDMAN," THE NAME AND THE CLASS . . . XXXlii notes lxiii CHEVY CHASE .......... 1 WHEN LOVE WITH UNCONFINED WINGS . . . . .17 CLORIS, FAREWELL, I NEEDS MUST GO . . . . .21 THE KINGE ENJOYES HIS RIGHTS AGAINE 24 THE jEGIPTIAN QUENE . . . . . . . .26 HOLLOWE, ME FANCYE ........ 30 NEWARKE .......... 33 AMONGST THE MIRTLES 35 THE WORLDE IS CHANGED, AND WEE HAVE CHOYCES ... 37 THE TRIBE OF BANBURYE ........ 39 AY ME, AY ME ! PORE SISLEY AND UNDONE ..... 43 FAINE WOLDE I CHANGE MY MAIDEN LIFE 46 WHEN FIRST I SAWE HER FACE ....... 48 HOW FAYRE SHEE BE ........ 50 COME, COME, COME, SHALL WEE MASQUE OR MUM ... 52 THE GRENE KNIGHT .56 SIR TRIAMORE .......... 78 GUYE AND AMARANT ......... 136 CALES VOYAGE 144 KINGE AND MILLER ......... 147 agincourte battell (see Appendix, p. 595) . . . .158 IV CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME. CONSCIENCE PAGE . 174 DURHAM FEILDE ..... . 190 GUT and phillis (for the beginning, see Af. ipeiuli.c, p. 608) . . 201 JOHN A SIDE . . . 203 RISINGE IN THE NORTHE .... . 210 NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYD BY DOWGLAS . 217 GUYE OF GISBORNE . 227 HEREFFORD AND NORFOLKE . 238 LADYES FALL . 246 BUCKINGAM BETRAYD BY BANISTER . 253 EARLE BODWELL ..... . 260 BISHOPPE AND BROWNE .... . 265 CHILDE WATERS .... . 269 BESSIE OFF BEDNALL . 279 HUGH SPENCER .... . 290 KINGE ADLER 296 BOY AND MANTLE .... 301 WHITE ROSE AND RED 312 BELL MY WIFFE 320 I LIVE WHERE I LOVE . . 325 YOUNGE ANDREW .... 327 A JIGGE 334 EGLAMORE ..... 338 THE EMPEROUR AND THE CHILDE 390 SITTINGE LATE ..... 400 LIBIUS DISCONIUS .... 404 CHILDE MAURICE .... 500 PHILLIS HOE 507 GUY AND COLEBRANDE 509 JOHN DE REEVE .... 559 APPENDIX 595 TWO AGINCOURT BALLADS 595 king estmere (two versions, from the 1st and 4>th editions of The Reliqu.es) ........ 600 guy and phillis (the first eleven stem ■MS of) 608 CORRIGENDA. p. 9, 1. 68, for armour read armor, p. 16, 1. 253, for and read &. p. 23, 1. 9, for [and] read &. p. 28, 1. 6, for with read with. 1. 22, for between read betweene. p. 29, 1. 77, for thein read them, p. 41, 1. 9, for up read vp. p. 46, 1. 7, for bells read bell, p. 60, note 6, for theye read they. p. 63, 1. 134 ; p. 66, 1. 203, 215 ;for and read &. p. 72, note 3 : the r has fallen out of the A. -Sax. Gram, p. 77, note, col. 1, 1. 2 ;for missed. As read missed, as. p. 140, 1. 109, add witt at the end of the line. note l ,for Strowt yn read Strowtyn. p. 159, 1. 7, for 1569 read 1659. p. 164, note 2 ,for terme read tenne. p. 254, 1. 12, for Robert read Richard. p. 379, notes, col. 2, for "1867 " read " Babees Book, See. 1868." N.B. The reading of the vol. with the MS. was stopt at p. 74 by the return of the MS. to its owners. THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. The last century in England was in more respects than one a valley of dry bones. About the middle of it, " they were very many," and "they were very dry." Shortly afterwards, "behold, a noise," and the bones began to come together. These signs of life were followed by a growing animation. From the four quarters came the wind, and breathed on the quickening mass. From the north it came in its strength ; from the east and the west it blew vigorously ; from the south it rushed with a wild furious sweeping blast that changed the face of the valley. So at last the century revived — its dull lack-lustre eyes brightened — its stagnant pulse leapt — it lived. I do not now propose to attempt a full description of this mighty revival. But I propose confining myself to one par- ticular feature of it — the appreciation of our older literature, and especially of our ballad poetry. The century that had long been fully satisfied with its own productions, at last recognised that the English literature of ages that had preceded it was not wholly barbarous. The century that had given up itself to rules, and reduced the art of poetry to a mechanical trick, at last acknowledged graces beyond the reach of its art. At last it was brought to see that there were more things in heaven and earth than were dreamt of in its philosophy. It discovered that there were innumerable beauties around it to which it had long been blind. It left its gardens and its vol. ii. a Vi THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY elaborate manipulations of nature to see Nature herself. It gave over refining the lily and gilding the rose to look at the flowers in their simple beauty. It became conscious of the exquisite beauties and glories of Switzerland, of the English lakes, of Wales. New worlds of splendour, and of noble enjoy- ment, dawned upon it. Not greater discoveries were made by Columbus and his followers four centuries before than were then made. The age, with all its self-complaisance, had been living in a prison. The doors were thrown open, and it came forth to feel and enjoy the fresh breezes and the gracious sunshine. A huger, more dismal, more cramping Bastile than that of Paris fell along with it. The age saw at the same time that, besides the beauties of nature, there were beauties that the art of former days had bequeathed it. It began to discern the subtle loveliness of old cathedral churches that studded the country. It had long eyed them with much disfavour. It had sadly disfigured them with adornments of its own devising, and according with its own notions. It had deplored them as monstrous relics of a profound barbarism. But at last the scales fell from its eyes, and it saw that these " tabernacles of the Lord of Hosts " were " amiable." It awoke to their supreme, lavish, refined beautifulness. So with respect to other branches of Gothic art, other fruits of the old Bomantic times, they came to a better appreciation of them. Poets and poems that had for many a day been relegated to neglect and oblivion, were more frankly and fairly valued. Voices that had long been silenced or ignored began to find a hearing and a heeding audience. As Greek literature was revived in the fifteenth, so was Bomantic in the eighteenth. A fair criterion of the progress of the century in the re- cognition of the Bomantic age is its appreciation of Chaucer. The most important event of the century regarding him is the appearance of Tyrwhitt's edition of him in 1775. Then at last IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. Vll an attempt was made to vindicate his fame from the imputation of rudeness ; to show that he, no less than the eighteenth- century poets, had some sense of melody, some talent for character-drawing, some power of language. Sp enser was more readily and continuously accepted. The age sympathised with the moralising part of his genius, and found pleasure in imi- tating him. But, as I have said, I propose now considering the history of our ballad poetry ; and to it I turn. The most signal event regarding it is the publication of Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry in 1765. Let us see how the century was prepared, or had been preparing, for that famous publication. Our English ballads, though highly popular in the Elizabethan age, as innumerable allusions to them in Shakespeare and the other dramatists, and in the general literature of the time, show, were yet never collected into any volume, save in Garlands, till the year 1723. They wandered up and down the country without even sheepskins or goatskins to protect them. They flew about like the birds of the air, and sung songs dear to the heart of the common people — songs whose power was sometimes confessed by the higher classes, but not so thoroughly appreciated as to induce them to exert themselves for their preservation. i They were looked down upon as things that were very good in their proper place, but which must not be admitted into higher society. They were admired in a condescending manner. They were much better than could be expected. But no one thought of them as popular lyrics of great intrinsic value. No one put forth a hand to save them from perishing. The custom of covering the walls of houses with them that happily prevailed in the seventeenth century did something for their preservation. So secured, they had a better chance of keeping a place in men's memories, and meeting some day appreciative eyes. Towards the end of the said century were made one or two a 2 viii THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY collections of the broad sheets containing them. The black- letter literature of the people was collected rather for its curiousness than its power or beauty, by antiquaries rather than by poets or enjoyers of poetry. Whatever their motives, let us praise Wood and Harley, Selden 1 and Pepys, Rawlinson, Douce, and Bagford, for their services in gathering together and protecting the frail outcasts from destruction. They were as great benefactors of the old ballads as Captain Coram was of foundlings. Be their names glorified ! There can be no doubt that the powerful mind of Dryden justly appreciated the strength of our old literature, although he so far bows before the spirit of his age as to deface it for the reception of that age. Even when he revised and spoiled Chaucer's works, he felt the power of them. But he resigned his own judgment to that of his contemporaries. This Sam- son in his captivity consented to make merry and carouse with his captors — to translate the songs he loved into the Philistine dialect. He had a fine appreciation of the old ballads. "I have heard," says a Spectator, "that the late Lord Dorset, who had the greatest wit tempered with the greatest candour, and was one of the finest critics as well as the best poets of his age, had a numerous collection of old English ballads, and took a particular pleasure in the reading of them. I can affirm the same of Mr. Dryden, and know several of the most refined writers of our present age who are of the same humour." He is, I think, the first collector of poems who conceded to popular ballads their due place, — who admitted them into the society of other poems — poems by the most Eminent Hands, — who perceived their excellence, and welcomed them accordingly. To other collectors of that date it was as disgraceful to a poem as to a man to have no father, 1 Tradition says that Pepys " borrowed " a part of his Collection from Selden, and forgot to return it. — W. C. IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. IX or to be suspected of a common origin. Dryden rose above this prejudice. He showed one or two ballads the same hospi- tality as he extended to the poetasters of Oxford and Cambridge, whose name was Legion at this time. In the Miscellany Poems, edited by him, of which the first volume appeared in 1684, the last in 1708, eight years after his death, are to be found " Little Musgrave and the Lady Bernard," certainly one of the most vigorous ballads in our language ; " Chevy Chase, " with a rhyming Latin translation ; " Johnnie Armstrong," " Gilderoy," "The Miller and the King's Daughters." But the evil that men do lives after them. Dryden, in his " Knight's Tale " and other works, had set the fashion of imitating and modernising our old poems. That fashion survived him. For more than half a century after his death, with the exception of the insertion of two or three in Playford's 1 Wit and Mirth, or Pills to purge Melancholy, and of the Collection of Old Ballads above referred to, we have produced in England imitations or adaptations of ballads — no faithful reprint of the genuine thing. The wine that the age had given it to drink was a miserable dilution, or only coloured water. Conspicuous amongst these imitators or adapters were Parnell, Prior, and Tickell. But there were two men in Queen Anne's time who had a genuine relish for old ballads, and who said a good word for them. These were Addison and Rowe. Addison's taste for them had been awakened during his travels on the Continent. " When I travelled," he writes, " I took a particular delight in hearing the songs and fables that are come from father to son, and are most in vosaie among the common people of the countries through which I passed ; for it is impossible that anything should be universally tasted and approved by a multitude, though they are only the rabble of a nation, which hath not in it some peculiar aptness 1 This Collection, though generally (1719), in six volumes. Five were called D'Urfey's, was Henry Playford's. printed in 1714 ; the first volume in D'Urfey edited only the last edition 1699.— W. C. X THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY to please and gratify the mind of man." He gives, as is well known, two numbers of the Spectator to a consideration of " Chevy Chase," one to that of the " Children in the Wood." " The old song of ' Chevy Chase,' " he writes, " is the favourite ballad of the common people of England, and Ben Jonson used to say he had rather have been the author of it than of all his works." Then he quotes Sir Philip Sidney's famous words ; and then adds, " For my own part I am so professed an admirer of this antiquated song that I shall give my reader a critick upon it, without any further apology for so doing." And he proceeds to investigate the poem according to the critical rules of his time. He compares it with other heroic poems, and illustrates it from Virgil and Horace. He read the old ballad in the light of his age — viewed and reviewed it in a somewhat narrow spirit. But he did read it — he did look at it. In spite of the confining criticism and hypercriticism of the day, he did feel and recognise its power. " Thus we see," his examen concludes, " how the thoughts of this poem, which naturally arise from the subject, are always simple, and sometimes exquisitely noble ; that the language is often very sounding, and that the whole is written with a true poetical spirit." In another paper he calls attention to and expresses the " most exquisite pleasure " he had received from " The Two Children in the Wood," which he had en- countered pasted upon the wall of some house in the country. He describes it as " one of the darling songs of the common people," and as having been " the delight of most Englishmen in some part of their age ; " and then he discusses it after his manner. " The tale of it is a pretty tragical story, and pleases for no other reason but because it is a copy of nature. There is even a despicable simplicity in the verse ; and yet because the sentiments appear genuine and unaffected, they are able to move the mind of the most polite reader with inward meltings of humanity and compassion." But he could not bring his IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. XI contemporaries to sympathise with him. They would not hear, charmed he never so wisely. His " Chevy Chase " papers were ridiculed and parodied by Dennis and Wagstaff and kindred spirits. To them perhaps he alludes in the concluding words of his notice of the other ballad he reviews : " As for the little conceited wits of the age," he writes, " who can only show their judgment by finding fault, they cannot be supposed to admire those productions which have nothing to recommend them but the beauties of nature, when they do not know how to relish even those compositions that, with all the beauties of nature, have also the additional advantages of art." He fought a losing battle. What appreciation of the old things there was at the beginning of the century was rapidly decaying. An age of elaborate artificiality, and studied affectation, was dawning. I have mentioned Eowe as sharing Addison's appreciation of the old ballads. He takes for one of his plays a subject that was the theme of a widely popular ballad, and in introducing his tragedy, deprecates the adverse prejudices of his audience, and speaks boldly in favour of the elder literature, and against the wretched affectations of his time. The Prologue to his "Jane Shore," first acted in 1713, opens thus: To-night, if you have brought your good old taste, We'll treat you with a downright English feast, A tale which, told long since in homely wise, Hath never failed of melting gentle eyes. Let no nice sir despise the hapless dame Because recording ballads chaunt her name ; Those venerable ancient song-enditers Soared many a pitch above our modern writers. They caterwauled in no romantic ditty, Sighing for Philis's or Cloe's pity ; Justly they drew the Fair, and spoke her plain, And sung her by her Christian name — 'twas Jane. Our numbers may be more refined than those, But what we've gained in verse, we've lost in prose ; Their words no shuffling double-meaning knew, Their speech was homely, but their hearts were true. Xll THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY In such an age immortal Shakespear wrote. By no quaint rules nor hampering critics taught, With rough majestic force they moved the heart, And strength and nature made amends for art. Our humble author does his steps pursue ; He owns he had the mighty bard in view ; And in these scenes has made it more his care To rouse the passions than to charm the ear. But this advocacy, too, of a better taste was doomed to fail. Rowe, as Addison, spoke in vain. The literary dominion of France was growing more and more supreme. Protests in behalf of our old masters were urged fruitlessly. The charms of our ballad poetry were disregarded, were despised. There were, however, others besides Addison and Rowe who had some slight sense of those charms, as for instance those whom we have named — Parnell, Tickell, Prior. Parnell's ac- quaintance with our older literature is shown in his " Fairy Tale in the Ancient English Style." It is but a feeble piece, written in a favourite Romance metre — the metre of Chaucer's " Tale of Sir Topas " — and decorated with occasional bits of bad grammar to give it an antique look. Tickell's friendship with Addison could not but have conduced to some familiarity on his part with the old ballads. He seems to have been inspired by them in no ordinary degree. Apropos of his " Lucy and Colin," Gold- smith remarks : " Through all Tickell's works there is a strain of ballad-thinking, if I may so express it ; and in this professed ballad he seems to have surpassed himself. It is perhaps the best in our language in this way." The writer of it has evidently drunk from the old wells. The story is simple. It is told in a queer style — a sort of strange compromise between the sim- plicity of the old ballad language and the superfine verbiage that was rising into esteem in Tickell's own day. Lucy, the reader may remember, is deserted by her lover for a richer bride. She cannot survive this cruelty. She says, [to quote well-known lines, IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. Xlll I hear a voice you cannot hear, Which says I must not stay. I see a hand you cannot see, Which beckons me away. She is buried on the day of her false lover's marriage. The funeral cortege encounters the hymeneal. The bridegroom's old passion, too late, revives. Confusion, shame, remorse, despair At once his bosom swell ; The damps of death bedew his brow ; He shook, he groaned, he fell. There is not the true note here, but there is a distant echo of it. In the handsome folio volume of poems published by Matthew Prior in 1718 was printed the " Not-Browne Maide," not for its own sake, but for the sake of a piece called " Henry and Emma," an extremely loose paraphrase of it, that the reader might see how magic was Mr. Prior's touch, who could transmute so rude an effort into a work so finely polished. However, Prior deserves some credit for having brought the old poem forward at all. His " Henry and Emma " won great applause. What a strange, instructive, significant fact, that when it and its original were placed before them, men should deliberately choose it ! A morbid taste was prevailing with a vengeance. No plea that the language was obscure can be advanced in this case, as for Dryden's and Pope's versions of the Canterbury Tales. There is no obscurity in these words : Lorde, what is This worldis blisse, That chaungeth as the mone ! The somers day In lusty may Is derked before the none. 1 hear you say Farewel ! Nay, nay. We departe not soo sone ; Why say ye so ? Win 'dor wyle ye goo ? XIV TIIE REVIVAL OF BALLAD TOETRT Alas ! what have ye done ? Alle my welfare To sorow and care Shulde chaunge yf ye were gon ; For in my mynde Of all mankynde I loue but you alone. But Prior's age did not care for their simple beauty. It could not value that art quce celat artem. It could not enjoy wild flowers. To the above delightful speech it preferred the fol- lowing: What is our bliss, that changeth with the moon, And day of life, that darkens ere 'tis noon ? What is true passion, if unblest it dies? And where is Emma's joy, if Henry flies ? If love, alas ! be pain, the pain I bear No thought can figure, and no tongue declare. Ne'er faithful woman felt, nor false one feign'd The flames which long have in my bosom reign'd ; The god of love himself inhabits there, With all his rage, and dread, and grief, and care, His complement of stores and total war. O ! cease then coldly to suspect my love, And let my deed at least my faith approve. Alas ! no youth shall my endearments share, Nor day nor night shall interrupt my care ; No future story shall with truth upbraid The cold indifference of the nut-brown maid; Nor to hard banishment shall Henry run, While careless Emma sleeps on beds of down. View me resolved, where'er thou lead'st, to go, Friend to thy pain, and partner of thy woe ; For I attest fair Venus and her son, That I, of all mankind, will love but thee alono. Early in the reign of George I., then, the old ballads had grown insipid. Men had no longer eyes to see their wild graces. An age of rules was shocked by their fine irregularity. A moralising and sentimentalising age was horrified at their plain-spokenness and objectivity. A didactic age could conceive no interest in such spontaneous songs. It had narrow ideas of what is instructive, and it wanted instructing. It did not under- IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. XV stand the singing as the linnet sings. It wanted its theories illustrated, discussed, enforced. In a word, it confounded poetry and morality. It did not cultivate, and it lost the faculty of pure enjoyment. No wonder then, if, finding no response to its ideas in the old ballads, it turned away from them, and would not answer when they called, would not dance when they piped. But even at this time, when they were rapidly nearing the nadir of their popularity, the ballads found a friend. In 1723 appeared a volume of collected ballads, followed three years after- wards by a second, in 1727 by a third. These three volumes formed that first collection of English ballads (there is only one Scotch l ballad among them) to which we have above adverted. Denmark had made collections of its ballads in 1591 and in 1695 ; Spain in 1510, 1555, 1566, and 1615. England — save the earlier Garlands — first did so in 1723. Scotland, without, so far as we know, any knowledge of what had been done in England, in the following year, when Allan Ramsay, a great student of "the Bruce," "the Wallis," and Lyndsay's works, 1 Songs and ballads of rustic and dainty new Scotch dialogue between a of humble life were called "Scotch" yong man and his mistresse," subscribed from about the middle of the 17th Martin Parker, Pop. Music, p. 452.) century, and without any intention of After him came Tom D'Urfey, and many imputing to them a Scottish origin, or more. The use extended till, at length, that they were imitations. The same even ballads relating to the northern had before been called " Northern." counties of England, and so, in every Mr. Payne Collier repeatedly reminds sense " northern," were reprinted as the readers of the Registers of the Scotch. (See, for instance, " Nanny Stationers' Company that this word 0," Pop. Music, p. 610, note a.) This "northern" means "rustic." (See Notes conventional meaning of "Scotch" seems and Queries, Dec. 28, 1861, p. 514; Feb. to have been accepted in Scotland as 8, 1862, p. 106; Feb. 21, 1863, p. 145.) well as in England, for in no other The substitution of "Scotch" seems to sense could Allan Ramsay claim, among have commenced during the civil war, and others, Gray's ballad, " Black-ey'd Susan," perhaps only after Charles II. had been in the very first part of " A miscellany crowned King of Scots, when " Scotch" of Scots Sangs," or W. Thomson appro- at length became a popular, and even a priato songs by Ambrose Phillips and party word with the Cavaliers. The other well-known Englishmen, in his first writer in whom I ha»ve noted the Orpheus Caledonius. This remark is change is Martin Parker, author of the necessary because Percy has, through- famous Cavalier, ball ad " When the King out, taken the words "northern" and shall enjoy his own again." (See, for " Scotch" only in their literal local sense, instance, "A pair of turtle doves, or a — W. C. XVI THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY having " observed that Eeaders of the best and most exquisite Discernment frequently complain of our modern Writings as filled with affected Delicacies and studied Eefinements, which they would gladly exchange for that natural strength of thought and simplicity of stile our Forefathers practised," published his " Ever-Green, being a collection of Scots Poems wrote by the Ingenious before 1600," and in the same year "The Tea-Table Miscellany, or a Collection of Scots Sangs, in three volumes." All three collections seem to have enjoyed a fair success. Who was the author of the English one is not known. 1 It is called " A collection of Old Ballads corrected from the best and most ancient copies extant, with Introductions, Historical, Critical, or Humorous, illustrated with copper plates." The editor adopts an apologetic motto for his book — some of the above-quoted words of Eowe. He writes, too, in an apologetic vein. " There are many," he says, " who perhaps will think it ridiculous enough to enter seriously into a Dissertation upon Ballads." He is evi- dently rather afraid of being thought a frivolous creature by his lofty-minded contemporaries. He is a little uneasy in intro- ducing his protegees to the polished public. But he does his duty by them bravely, only indulging himself now and then in a little superior laugh at their expense. He gives what account he can of the theme of each one, and shows always a thorough interest in his work. But the time was not yet ripe for his labours. The popularity that attended the first appearance of his collection soon ceased. The predominant character of the age was not changed. The old voices could not yet secure a hearing. The age clung to its idols. Its Pharisaic spirit was too strong to be restrained. It could not vet believe that out of the mouth of the common people there was ordained strength. After the middle of the century some promise was shown of 1 Dr. Farmer ascribes it to Ambrose Phillips. See Lowndes, under " Ballads.'' — W. C. IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. XV11 a better era. In Capell's "Prolusions, or Select Pieces of Antient Poetry, corapil'd with great care from their several Originals, and offer'd to the Publick as Specimens of the Integrity that should be found in the Editions of Worthy Authors," published in 1760, appeared the "Not-browne Mayde," no longer accompanied by a modernised version. This book gives hints of the reaction that was coming against the old manipulating method. " Fidelity to the best Texts," is its watchword. In the same year (1760) appeared Macpberson's Ossian, and produced an immense sensation. Bishop Percy, with the good wishes and assistance of many then distinguished men — of Shenstone, Garrick, Joseph Warton, Farmer — was supplementing the treasures of his wonderful Folio MS. from other quarters, and preparing the materials of his Reliques of Ancient En f/lish Poetry. About the same time (1764) appeared Evans's " Specimens of the Poetry of the Antient Welsh Bards." Mallet's work on "the remains of the Mythology and Poetry of the Celtes, particularly of Scandinavia," had already been published some years. 1 About the same time Gray was writing his Welsh and Scandinavian pieces. 2 At the same time Chatterton was striving to satisfy the new taste that was spreading with forgeries of old poems. 3 The first decade, then, of George III.'s reign is most memorable in the history of the 1 Mallet (P.-H.) Introduction a This- Glasgow; and at the same time Dodsley toire de Dannemark, ou Ton traite de was also printing them in London. In la religion, des mceurs et usages des an- both these editions, the " Long Story " ciens danois etc. Copenhagve, 1755-56. was omitted. Some pieces of Welch Les Monumens de la Mythologie et and Norwegian poetry, written in a de la Poesie des Celtes (trad, des Edda) hold and original manner, were inserted ouvrage qui fait partie de cette intro- in its place. Mitford's Life of Gray, duction, ont aussi paru separement avec Works, i. xlix.-l. — F. un titre particulier, en 1756. Brunei. 3 Published in 1777- He died Aug. Percy's translation was published in 25th, 1770. His first article, purporting 1770. — F. to be the transcript of an ancient MS. 2 In 1767 he [Gray] had intended a entitled " A Description of the Fryers' second tour to Scotland. At Dr. first passage over the Old Bridge," Beattie's desire, a new edition of his appeared in Farley's Journal, Bristol, poems was published by Foulis at Oct. 1768. Penny Cycl. — F. vol. ir. b xviii THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY revival of our ballad poetry. Then commenced an appreciation of it which has grown stronger and stronger with the lapse of years. Then it found itself so well supported that it was able to hold up its head in spite of peremptory contemptuous criticism. It feared no more the frowns of the great. Its beauty was no longer to be hid — its light no longer veiled away from men's eyes. " Even from the tomb the voice of nature cried." In the midst of conventionalisms and artificialities, Simplicity and Truth asserted themselves. The age was growing sick and weary of its old darlings ; growing sensible that there was no salvation in them, no infallibility, no supreme delight in their worship : Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque recurret. Cinderella had sat by the kitchen fire for many a day. For many a day the elder sisters, tricked out in all the modish finery of the time, every attitude studied, every look elaborated every movement affected, had possessed the drawing-room in all their fashionable state. Cinderella down in the kitchen had heard the rustle of their fine silks and satins, and the sound of their polite conversation. She had been perplexed by their polished verbiage, and felt her own awkwardness and rusticity. She had never dared to think herself beautiful. No admiring eyes ever came near her in which she might mirror herself. She had never dared to think her voice sweet. No rapt ears ever drank in fondly its accents. She felt herself a plain- faced, dull-souled, uninteresting person, not worthy to receive any attention from any one of the fine gentlemen who adored her sisters, or to enter their well-mannered society. But her lowliness was to be regarded. The songs she had sung in the kitchen to the servants — her humble, unpretentious songs — they were to find greater favour than ever did those of her much-complimented sisters. She too was to be the belle of balls. It was about the year 1760 when the possibility of so IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. XIX great a change in her condition became first conceivable. She met with many enemies, who clamoured that the kitchen was her proper place, and vehemently opposed her admission into any higher room. The Prince was long in finding her out. The sisters put many an obstacle between him and her. They could not understand the failure of their own attractions. They could not appreciate the excellence of hers. But at last the Prince found her, and took her in all her simple sweetness to himself. At last, to lay metaphors aside, England ac- knowledged the power and beauty of the ballads that had suffered for so long a time such grievous neglect. At the accession of George III., William Whitehead was in the third year of his adornment of the Poet Laureateship. " The Pleasures of Imagination," " The Schoolmistress," " The Complaint, or Night Thoughts on Life, Death, and Immor- tality" — works which had been given to the world some sixteen or eighteen years before — were at the zenith of their fame. The general character of our literature at this time was wholly didactic. We cannot wonder, then, if the appear- ance of a poetry that was weighted with no overbearing moral, or other purpose, produced a tremendous effect. We may be prepared to understand the prodigious excitement caused by the publication in 1760 of " The Works of Ossian the Son of Fingal, translated from the Gaelic language by James Macpherson." With all their magniloquence, they did not sermonise ; they expressed some genuine feeling. Amidst all their affected cries there was a true voice audible. Three years subsequently, Bishop Percy, moved by Ossian 's popularity, published a transla- tion from the Icelandic language of five pieces of Eunic poetry. In the following year, 1764, appeared "Some Specimens of the Poetry of the Ancient Welsh Bards translated into English, with Explanatory Notes on the Historical Passages, and a short Account of Men and Places mentioned by the Bards, in order b2 XX THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY to give the Curious some Idea of the Taste and Sentiments of our Ancesters and their Manner of Writing, by the Bev. Mr. Evan Evans, curate of Glanvair Talyhaern in Denbighshire" — a work with which Gray was familiar. Shortly afterwards appeared Gray's own translations, made from translations, of Norse and Welsh pieces : " The Fatal Sisters," " The Descent of Odin," « The Triumphs of Owen," and " The Death of Hoel." About the time, then, of the appearance of the Reliques in 1765, there was dispersed over the country some slight knowledge of the old Celtic and of Scandinavian poetry. And now the age was ripe for the reception of such a collec- tion of old ballads as had been published some forty years, but had then, after a short-lived circulation, fallen into neglect. Thomas Percy, the son of a grocer at Bridgenorth, Shropshire, a graduate of Oxford, vicar of Easton Maudit, Northampton- shire, was by nature something of an antiquarian. When " very young," he became possessed of a folio MS. of old ballads and romances. " This Yery curious old MS." he says in a memo- randum made in the old folio itself, " in its present mutilated state, but unbound and sadly torn, I rescued from destruction, and begged at the hands of my worthy friend Humphrey Pitt, Esq. then living at Shiffnal in Shropshire, afterwards of Prior Lee near that town ; who died very lately at Bath ; viz. in Summer 1769. I saw it lying dirty on the floor under a Bureau in y e Parlour: being used by the maids to light the fire." " When I first got possession of this MS." he sa}^ in another entry in the same place, " I was very young, and being in no degree an Antiquary, I had not then learnt to reverence it ; which must be my excuse for the scribble which I then spread over some parts of its margin ; and in one or two instances, for even taking out the leaves, to save the trouble of transcribing. I have since been more careful." Besides this famous folio, he possessed also a quarto MS. volume of similar pieces, supposed IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. XXI to be the same as one still in the hands of his family, and con- taining only copies of printed poems. The folio has remained in the hands of the Bishop's family in the greatest privacy hitherto; Jamieson and Sir F. Madden being (I believe) the only editors who have printed from it, though Dibdin was allowed to catalogue part of it. It is now at last, as our readers know, being printed just as it is. These volumes had in Percy a (for that time) highly appreciative possessor. He determined to introduce to the public some specimens of their contents. This proposal was promoted by the sympathy of many then dis- tinguished men: of Shenstone, Bird, Grainger, Steevens, Farmer, and by others of still greater and more enduring note — Garrick and Goldsmith. At last, in 1765 appeared Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and other pieces of our earlier poets (chiefly of the Lyric kind) together with some few of later date. The editor, even as the editor of the collection of 1723, of whom Ave have spoken, has, manifestly, some misgivings about the character of his protegees. He is not quite sure how they will be received by his polite contemporaries. He speaks of them, in his Dedication of his volumes to the Countess of Northumberland (he was extremely ambitious to connect himself with the great Percies of the North), as "the rude songs of ancient minstrels," "the barbarous productions of unpolished ages," and is troubled for fear lest he should be guilty of some impropriety in hoping that they " can obtain the approbation or the notice of her, who adorns courts by her presence, and diffuses elegance by her example. But this impropriety, it is presumed, will disappear when it is declared that these poems are presented to your Ladyship, not as labours of art but as effusions of nature, shewing the first efforts of ancient genius, and exhibiting the customs and opinions of remote ages." In his Preface he says that "as most of" the con- tents of his folio MS. " are of great simplicity, and seem to have XX11 THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY been merely written for the people, the possessor was long in doubt, whether in the present state of improved literature they could be deemed worthy the attention of the public. At length the importunity of his friends prevailed." " In a polished age, like the present, he adds, " I am sensible that many of these reliques of antiquity will require great allowances to be made for them. Yet have they, for the most part, a pleasing simpli- city, and many artless graces, which in the opinion of no mean critics [a foot-note cites Addison, Dryden, Lord Dorset &c, and Selden] have been thought to compensate for the want of higher beauties, and if they do not dazzle the imagination [Did " The School-mistress," " The Sugar-cane," dazzle the imagination?] are frequently found to interest the heart." Still more striking- are the following words : " To atone for the rudeness of the more obsolete poems, each volume concludes with a few modern attempts in the same kind of writing." And then he buttresses his volumes with eminent names — Shenstone, Thomas Warton, Garrick, Johnson (we shall see presently how far Johnson was likely to smile on his undertaking), which " names of so many men of learning and character, 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 amuse- ment of now and then a vacant hour amid the leisure and retirement of rural life, and hath only served as a relaxation from graver studies. It hath been taken up and thrown aside for many months during an interval of four or five years." With such apologies and antidotes did the Eeliques make their debut ! How strange — what a wonderful tale of altered taste it tells — that in order to make " Chevy Chase," " E.dom o' Gordon," " Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard," endurable, to reconcile IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. XX111 the reader to their rudeness, such charming chaperones should be assigned them as " Bryan and Pereene, a West Indian ballad by Dr. Grainger," " Jemmy Dawson, by Mr. Shenstone" ! "Bryan and Pereene," " founded on a real fact," narrates how Pereene, " the pride of Indian dames," went down to the sea-shore to meet her lover, who, after an absence in England of one long long year one month and day, was returning to St. Christopher's and his mistress. Soon as his well-known ship she spied 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 ; Bryan, seeing her in the said sea-green silk, impatient also, leapt overboard in the hope of reaching her sooner. The crew with wonder saw the lad Kepell the foaming flood. Her hands a handkerchief display'd, Which he at parting gave ; Well-pleas'd the token he survey'd, 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. Then through the white surf did she haste, To clasp her lovely swain ; "When ah ! a shark bit through his waist, His heart's blood dy'd the main. He shriek'd ! his half sprang from the wave, Streaming with purple gore, And soon it found a living grave, And ah ! was seen no more. xxiv THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY Now haste, now haste, ye maids, I pray, Fetch water from the spring; She falls, she swoons, she dies away, And soon her knell they ring. And so the doleful ditty ends with an injunction to the "fair," to strew her tomb with fresh flowerets every May morning, to the end that they and their lovers may not come to similar distress." Jemmy Dawson was one of the Manchester rebels who took part in the '45, and was hanged, drawn, and quartered on Kennington Common in 1746. Their colours and their sash he wore, And in the fatal dress was found ; And now he must that death endure, Which gives the brave the keenest wound. How pale was then his true love's cheek, When Jemmy's sentence reach'd her ear ; For never yet did Alpine snows, .So pale, nor yet so chill appear. With faltering voice she weeping said, Oh ! Dawson, monarch of my heart, Think not thy death shall end our loves, For thou and I will never part. Poor Kitty inflexibly witnesses his execution. The dismal scene was o'er and past, The lover's mournful hearse retir'd ; The maid drew back her languid head, And sighing forth his name expir'd. Such were the pieces whose elegance was to make atonement to the readers of a century ago, for the barbarousness of the other components of the Rellques. This barbarousness was further mitigated by an application of a polishing process to the ballads themselves. Percy per- formed the offices of a sort of tireman for them. He dressed and adorned them to go into polite society. To how great an extent he laboured in their service, is now at last manifested by the publication of the Folio. The old MS. contained many IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. XXV pieces which, it would seem, were considered hopeless. No amount of manipulation could ever make them presentable. It contained many pieces and many fragments — thanks to the anxiety of Mr. Humphrey Pitt's servants to light his fires !— which the art of the editorial refiner of the eighteenth century deemed capable of adaptation ; and Percy adapted them. The old ballads could reckon on no genuine sympathy. They were, so to speak, the songs of Zion in a strange land. Percy, as the extracts we have quoted from his Dedication and Preface have shown, was not free from the prejudices of his time. He was but slightly in advance of them ; but he was in advance of them. He did recognise the power and beauty of the old poetry, more deeply, perhaps, than he ever dared confess. And, though unconscious of the greatness of the work he was doing, did for us — for Europe' — an unutterable service. He was, to the end, curiously unconscious of it. He had given a deadly blow to a terrible giant, and freed many captives from his thraldom, without knowing. Men are often reminded to be delicately careful in their actions, because they know not what harm they may do. They might sometimes be encouraged by the thought that they know not what good they do. Certainly Percy performed for English literature a far higher service than he ever dreamt of. He always regarded the Reliques as something rather frivolous. " I read ' Edwin and Angelina' to Mr. Percy some years ago," writes Goldsmith, in 1767, to the printer of the St. James' Chronicle, who had assigned Goldsmith's ballad to Percy, " and he (as we both considered these things as trifles at best) told me, with his usual goodhumour, the next time I saw him, that he had taken my plan to form the fragments of Shakespeare into a ballad of his own. He then read me his little cento, if I may so call it, and I highly approved of it." " I am so little interested about the amusements of my youth,'''' writes Percy to his XXVI THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY publisher in 1794, " that, had it not been for the benefit of my nephew, I could contentedly have let the Reliques of Ancient Poetry remain unpublished." The great effect the memorable work produced came " not with observation." With all the consideration Percy showed for the prevailing taste, he did not succeed in winning over to his support certain great leaders of it. He was extremely solicitous to secure the approval of the leader of the leaders of it — of that supreme potentate, Dr. Johnson. In his Preface he twice mentions him : first, as having urged him to publish a selection from the Folio (" He could refuse nothing," he says, " to such judges as the author of the Rambler, and the late Mr. Shenstone,") ; and secondly, as having lightened his editorial task with his assist- ance (" To the friendship of Mr. Johnson," he writes, " he owes many valuable hints for the conduct of his work "). But, for all these complimentary mentions, Johnson seems to have liked neither the work nor its author, as may be seen in Boswell again and again; thus: "The conversation having turned on modern imitations of ancient ballads, and some one having praised their simplicity, he treated them with that ridicule which he always displayed when that subject was mentioned." The 177th number of the Rambler gives a satirical account of a Club of Antiquaries. Hirsute, we are told, had a passion for black-letter books ; Ferratus for coins ; Ctiartophylax for gazettes ; " Cantilenus turned all his thoughts upon old ballads, for he considered them as the genuine records of the natural taste. He offered to show me a copy of The Children of the Wood, which he firmly believed to be of the first edition, and by the help of which the text might be freed from several corruptions, if this age of barbarity had any claim to such favours from him." In his Life of Addison, after a sarcastic reference to his Spectators on '" Chevy Chase," and Wagstaff's ridicule of them, he adds, in modification of Dennis's reductio IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. XXvil ad absiirdum of Addison's canon — that " Chevy Chase " pleases, and ought to please, because it is natural — " In Chevy Chase there is not much of either bombast or affectation, but there is chill and lifeless imbecility. The story cannot possibly be told in a manner that shall make less impression on the mind. 1 ' With what horror the ghost of Sir Philip Sidney must have been struck if ever it was aware of this crushing dictum ! Still more suggestive are his observations on another old ballad. " The greatest of all his amorous essays," he remarks in his Life of Prior, " is Henry and Emma — a dull and tedious dialogue, which excites neither esteem for the man nor tender- ness for the woman. The example of Emma, who resolves to follow an outlawed murderer wherever fear and guilt shall drive him, deserves no imitation [would Johnson have said that the " Laocoon," or the " Venus de Medici," deserved an imitation ? how could his critical rules have been applied to them ?], and the experiment by which Henry tries the lady's constancy is such as must end either in infamy to her or in disappointment to himself." With these terrible sentences in our ear, let us read these stanzas : Though it be songe Of old & yonge, That I shold be to blame, Theyrs be the charge That speke so large In hastynge of my name ; For Iwyll prove That faythfutte love, It is devoyd of shame ; In your dystresse, And hevynesse, To part with you the same; And sure all tho That do not so True lovers are they none. For in my mynde Of all mankynde I love but you alone. XXV111 THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY ■And, I thinke nat nay But as ye say, It is no mayden's lore ; But love may make Me for your sake, As I have sayd before, To come on foote To hunt, to shote To gete us mete in store ; For so that I Your companey May have, I ask no more. From which to part, It makyth my hart As colde as ony stone ; For in my mynde Of all mankynde I love but you alone. Read these high passionate words, and think of Johnson's criticism. 1 He misses, evidently, the point of the poem — does not see how one noble idea permeates and vivifies every line, and glorifies the self-abandonment confessed. Here may ye see That women be In love, meke, kynde, and stable ; Late never man Reprove them than, Or call them variable ; But rather pray God that we may To them be comfortable. His criticism of the " Nut-brown Maid " makes his dislike of the old ballads intelligible enough. We can understand now how he came to despise and abuse them, and parody their form in this wise : s 1 Cf. Mr. Gilpin's (Saurey-Gilpin, an the same woman whom the Rake dis- artist, 1733-1807, ) remark, cy;«d Nichols cards in the first print, by whom he is and Steevens' Hogarth, on the seventh rescued in the fourth, who is present at plate of the Rake's Progress : " The his marriage, who follows him into jail, episode of the fainting woman might and lastly to Bedlam. The thought is have given way to many circumstances rather unnatural, and the moral certainly more proper to the occasion. This is culpable." IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. XXIX The tender infant, meek and mild, Fell down upon a stone ; The nurse took up the squealing child, But still the child squeal'd on. Warburton, Hurd, and others heartily concurred in his opinion. Warburton thought that the old ballads were utterly despicable by the side of the exalted literature of his own and recent times. He called them "specious funguses compared to the oak." But in the face of this contumely, looked down on and sneered at by the learning and refinement of the age, the old ballads grew dear to the heart of the nation. They stirred emotions that had long lain dormant. They revived fires that had long slumbered. The nation lay in prison like its old Troubadour king ; in its durance it heard its minstrel singing beneath the window its old songs, and its heart leapt in its bosom. It recognised the well-known, though long-neglected, strains that it had heard and loved in the days of its youth. The old love revived. The captive could not at once cast off its fetters, and go forth. But a yearning for liberty awoke in it ; a wild, growing, passionate longing for liberty, for real, not artificial flowers ; for true feeling, not sentimentalism ; for the fresh life-giving breezes of the open country, not the languid airs of enclosed courts. As one who long in populous city pent, Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, Forth issuing on a summer's morn, to breathe Among the pleasant villages and farms Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight, The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound, .so did the nation issue forth from its confinement, and conceive truer, more comprehensive jo} T s. The publication of the Reliques, then, constitutes an epoch in the history of the great revival of taste, in whose blessings we XXX THE REVIVAL OF BALLAD POETRY now participate. After 1765, before the end of the century, numerous collections of old ballads, in Scotland and in England, by Evans, Pinkerton, Hurd, Eitson, were made. The noble reformation, that received so great an impulse in 1765, ad- vanced thenceforward steadily. The taste that was awakened never slumbered again. The recognition of our old life and poetry that the Reliques gave, was at last gloriously confirmed and established by Walter Scott. That great minstrel was profoundly influenced by the Reliques, both directly and in- directly, through Burger and others who had drunk deep of its waters. " Among the valuable acquisitions," says Scott in his Autobi- ography, writing of his studies after his leaving Edinburgh High School, " I made about this time, was an acquaintance with Tasso's 'Jerusalem Delivered' through the flat medium of Mr. Hoole's translation. But above all I then first became acquainted with Bishop Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry . As I had been from infancy devoted to legendary lore of this nature, and only reluctantly withdrew my attention from the scarcity of materials and the rudeness of those which I possessed, it may be imagined, but cannot be described, with what delight I saw pieces of the same kind whcih had amused my childhood, and still continued in secret the Delilahs of my imagination, considered as the subject of sober research, grave commentary, and apt illustration by an editor who showed his practical genius was capable of emulating the best qualities of what his pious labour preserved. I re- member well the spot where I read these volumes for the first time. It was beneath a huge plantaine tree, in the ruins of what had been intended for an old-fashioned arbour in the garden I have mentioned. The summer day sped onwards so fast that, notwithstanding the sharp appetite of thirteen, I forgot the hour of dinner, was sought for with anxiety, and was •still found entranced in my intellectual banquet. To read and IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. XXXI to remember was in this instance the same thing, and hence- forth I overwhelmed my schoolfellows and all who would hearken to me with tragical recitations from the ballads of Bishop Percy. The first time too I could scrape a few shillings together, which w T ere not common occurrences w T ith me, I bought unto myself a copy of these beloved volumes; nor do I believe I ever read a book half so frequently or with half the enthusiasm." XXX111 ON "BONDMAN," THE NAME AND THE CLASS, WITH EEFERENCE TO THE BALLAD OF " JOHN DE REEUE.' By F. J. FUENIVALL. Johnson's definition of bondman is " a man slave." To it his latest editor, Dr. Latham, puts neither addition nor qualification; and the popular notion undoubtedly is, that whenever the word is used, of Early English times or modern, a slave is understood, one whose person, wife, children, and property, are wholly in his owner's power. We have to ask how far this popular notion is true with regard to our Bondmen, John de Reeue, Hobkin or Hodgkin long, and Hob o' the Lathe, and their class. I do not find the word bondman in English till about 1250 A.D., taking that as the date of the Owl arid Nightingale : Moni chapmon and moni cniht LuveJ> and halt ' his wif ariht ; And swa de{? moni bondeman. {Owl and Nightingale, 1. 1575, p. 49, ed. Stratmann, 1868.) The earlier word was bonde, and the earliest the Anglo-Saxon bonda, which Thorpe rightly derives and defines as follows in his glossary to the Ancient Laivs : Bonda, boor, paterfamilias. This word was probably introduced by the Danes, and seems occasionally to have been used for ceorl • its immediate derivation is from O. N. buandi, contracted to] bondi, villicns, colonus qui foco utitur proprio ; part. pres. used substantively of at bud. Goth, gabauan habitare ; modern Danish bonde, peasant, husbandman. Bosworth on the other hand defines Bonda as 1. One bound, a husband, householder. 2. A proprietor, husband- man, boor : Bonde-land land held under restrictions, copyhold. 1 MS. Cot. Had. VOL. II. C XX XIV ON " BONDMAN." Whether ' one bound ' (as if from bond, and-a one who has ; like ivced a garment, ivceda one who has a garment,) is the original sense of the word, is more than doubtful ; and till the proof is produced, I reject the meaning as original, 1 though no doubt at a later period this sense prevailed over the Scandinavian one. Mr. Wedgwood says under Husband : From Old Norse bua (the equivalent of G. hanen, Du. boiven, to till, cultivate, prepare) are bu a household, farm, cattle ; buandi, bondi, 2 N\ bonds the possessor of a farm, husbandman ; husbond or 1 bondi (d. i. boandi = buandi, der Sonde, freier Grundbcsitzer, Hausvater, pi. bcendr mariti. — Mobius. 2 Mr. Cockayne says " The word Bond bound has no existence but in Somner, ■whence others have copied it. Bos- worth has built on Bond a guess, Bonda one bound, which is a delusion. For Bound, the true word is bunden, and for a Bond, bend." Mr. Earle also rejects the derivation from bond, and the mean- ing " one bound." Mr. Thorpe says that Ettmuller (p. 293) questions the buandi, bondi derivation, but without sufficient grounds, in Mr. Thorpe's opinion. Haldorson accepts it " Bondi m. paterfamilias (quasi boandi, buandi) en Husfader, Husbande, L. Colonus, ruricola, en Bonde, Storboendr prsedica- tores (Bonds with a large house and extensive ground), Smabcendr villici (Bonds with a small house and little yard)." Mr. Skeat notes " Bosworth also gives Buend, bugend, bugigend, as mean- ing an inhabitant, a farmer, from buan, to dwell, cultivate. This comes nearer to the Dan. and Sw. bonde as regards etymology, though it is not so near in form. Cf. A. -Sax. buan, Moeso-Goth. bauan, gabauan, to dwell, bauains, a dwelling-place. The G-. bauer, peasant, is the Du. bocr, and our boor. It is curious that the Du. bocr, as well as the Sw. and Dan. bonde, signifies ' a pawn at chess.' I do not see how you dis- tinguish between A.-Sax. bonda and A.-Sax. buend, unless you call the former a Danish word. In modern Danish the d is not sounded, and the o has an oo sound, so that bonde is called boon-ne (Lund's Danish Grammar)." Professor Bosworth has kindly sent me the following note in support of the first meaning he assigns to bonda. It unfortunately came too late — in conse- quence of the illness of his aman- uensis — to be worked up or noticed in the text. " Bunda, bonda, an ; m. I. A wedded or 'married man, a husband; maritus, sponsus. II. The father or head of a family, a householder ; pater- familias, ceconomus. Then follow nu- merous examples, in proof of these meanings. I've gone over again all the examples, and I have enlarged what I had previously written, as to the origin of ' Bunda, bonda,' and given the detail in the following pages. — J. B." " Every word has its history by which its introduction and use are best ascer- tained. Bede tells us [Bk. I, 25, 2,] that Ethelbert king of Kent married a Christian, Bertha, a Frankish princess. The Queen prepared the way for the friendly reception of Augustine and his missionary followers, by Ethelbert in a.d. 597, who was the first to found a school in Kent, and wrote laws which are said to be " asette on Augustinus dsege," established in the time of Augus- tine, between a.d. 597 and 604. The cultivation and writing of Anglo Saxon [Englisc] began with the conversion of Ethelbert. Marriage, and the house- hold arrangements depending upon it, were regulated by the law of the Church, and indigenous compound words were formed to express that law : — thus se law, divine law ; Cristes se Christi lex, Bihte se legitimum matrimonium Bd. 4, 5 — sew wedlock, marriage, sew- boren lawfully bom, bom in wedlock — sew-brica m. wedlock breaker, m. an adul- terer, sew-brice /. an adultress, sew- faest-mann marriage-fast-man a wedded man, a husband ; sew-nian to wed, take ON " BONDMAN." XXXV husband the master of the house. Dan. bonde peasant, countryman, villager, clown. Where the word occurs in the Anglo-Saxon Laws, Thorpe translates it " proprietor," and then " husband," meaning " hus- band who is a proprietor." Swa ymbe friSes-bdte, swa parn bondan si selost, ~\ pam pedfan si laSost. — jEthelredes Domas, vi. xxxii. 1 So concerning " frithes-bot," as may be best to the proprietor and most hostile to the thief. — Ancient Laivs, i. 322—3. a wife— rew-nung wedding, marriage — £§w-wif a wedded woman. — Hiis-bunda, — bonda a house binder, husband, house- holder. This expressive compound is one of the oldest in the language. It is found in the interpolated passage of Matt. xx. between v. 28 and 29. The passage is in all the Anglo-Saxon MSS. of the Gospels, except the interlineary glosses. The A.-Sax. is a literal ver- sion of the Augustinian MS. in the Bod- leian Library, Oxford [Codex, August. 857, B. 2, 14], from the Old Italic version, from which the Latin Vulgate of the Gospels was formed by St. Jerome about a.d. 384. Though we do not know the exact dates when the Gospels were translated from Latin into A.-Sax., Cuthbert assures us that Bede finished the last Gospel, St. John, on May 27, 735, [See Pref. to Goth, and A.-Sax. Gos. Bos. p. ix-xii]. As the three pre- ceding Gospels were most likely trans- lated before St. John, then the follow- ing sentence was written before 735, Se hus-bonda [hiis-bunda in MS. Camb. Ii. 2, 11,] hate £e arisan and ryman ?am ofcrum, the householder bid thee rise and make room for the other. Notes to Bos- worth's Goth, and A.-Sax. Gos. Mt. xx. 28 ; p. 576. Hus-bonda is also used by Elfric in his version of the Scrip- tures about 970 [Ex. 3, 22.] Bunda, bonda one wedded or bound, a husband, from bindan ; p. band, bundon ; pp. bunden ; to bind, must have been of earlier origin than the compound hus- bunda. It is a well-known rule that in A.-Sax. a person or agent is denoted by adding a,* as bytl a hammonne gebete he f swa swa hit jelajod is . bunda mid xxx pen. Artel mid his hyde . J'ejn mid xxx scill. — From Hickes's Dissertatio Epistolaris, p. 108. And if any one does not perform this, then let him make amends for that as is laid-down-by-law : the boncle with xxx pence, the thrall with his hide, the thane with xxx shillings. Thus far then the evidence — for I do not admit Bosworth's " one bound " as right — points to the boncle being a freeman, and if not a landed proprietor, still a free tenant. The evidence of the freedom is strengthened if we may regard the Danish- named boncle as a Saxon-named churl — the name of one seeming to be used for the other, as Mr. Thorpe observes, for the ceorla was a free man, the " ordinary freeman " of Anglo- Saxon society, though obliged by " the feudal system " which " may be traced throughout all Anglo-Saxon history, to provide himself with a lord, that he might be amenable to justice when called upon." 1 Still, this vassalage was no bondage in the later or the modern sense of the term ; the vassal churl was a freeman still, if we may trust Heywood. In Alfred's time, and later, the ceorl had slaves. Sec. 25 of Alfred's Laws (translated) is : If a man commit a rape upon a ceorVs female slave (mennen), let him make hot (amends) to the ceorl with 5 shillings, and let the wite (fine) he 60 shillings. Auc. Laws, i. 79. The A.-S. laws of Eanks enact that, if a ceorl thrived, so that he had fully five hides of his own land, church and kitchen, bell-house, and " burh"-gate-seat, and special duty in the king's hall, then was he thenceforth of thane-right worthy. — Anc. Laws, i. 191. Thorpe defines ceorl thus : Ceorl. O.H.G. charal. A freeman of ignoble rank, a churl, twy- hinde man, villanus, illiberalis. Tioyliynde (Man), a man whose ' w&r-gild? was 200 shillings. This was the lowest class of Anglo-Saxon aristocracy. Twelf-hynde 1 Hey wood's Distinctions in Society. 18 IS, p. 325. XXXViii ON "BONDMAN." (Man), a man whose wer-gild was 1200 shillings. This was the highest class of Anglo- Saxon aristocracy. The slave was a \rcd or ]>eow. Mr. Thorpe considers Iprail to be a Scandinavian word. Next comes the question, did these bondes or ceorls continue free till the time of the Conquest ? Kemble says not : ' Finally, the nobles-by-birth themselves beoame absorbed in the ever- widening whirlpool ; day by day the freemen, deprived of their old national defences, wringing with difficulty a precarious sub- sistence from incessant labotu', sullenly yielded to a yoke which they could not shake off, and commended themselves (such was the phrase) to the protection of a lord ; till a complete change having tlms been operated in the opinions of men, and consequently in every relation of society, a new order of things was consummated, in which the honours and security of service became more anxiously desired than a needy and unsafe freedom ; and the alods being finally surrendered, to be taken back as beneficia, under mediate lords, the foundations of the royal, feudal system were securely laid on every side. — Kemble, The Saxons in England, vol. i. p. 184. The very curious and instructive dialogue of ^Elfric numbers among the serfs the y ruling or ploughman, 1 whose occupation the author nevertheless places at the head of all the crafts, with per- haps a partial exception in favour of the smith's. — Ibid. p. 216. Mr. C. H. Pearson also says not : Not only were slaves increasing, but freemen were disappearing. The ceorl is never mentioned in our laws after Edward the elder's time. If he became the villan of a later period, he was already semi-servile before the Norman conquest. If he passed into the freeman, 2 sometimes holding in his own right, and sometimes under a lord's protection, the class did not number 5 per cent, of the population at the time when Domesday was compiled, was virtually confined to Norfolk and Suffolk, and had not even a representative in the counties south of the Thames. It is evident that the bulk of the Saxon people was in no proper sense, and at no time free. Even the free in name were virtually bound down to the soil with the possession of which their rights were connected, and from which their subsistence was derived ; . . . the idea that any man might go where he would, live as he liked, think or express his thoughts freely, would have been repugnant to the whole tenour of a con- stitution which started from the Old Testament as a model, pre- served or incorporated the traditions of Roman law, and regarded the regulation of life as the duty of the legislator. 1 This should be compared with the 2 Had he not always been free? second extract from Havdok below. ON " BONDMAN." XXXIX The mention of villan brings us to the Conquest 1 and to Domes- day-book. On every page of the latter villani are mentioned, and the articles of enquiry for the composition of it show that the enquiry into the population and property of each district " was conducted by the king's barons, upon the oaths of the sheriff of each county, and all the barons, and their French-born vassals, and of the hundredary (reeve of the hundred), priest, steward, and six villeins of every vill" &c. (Heywood, p. 290, note). The question for us is, are we to take as free men or not these villans, who were to help in settling what "served for cen- turies as the basis of all taxation, and the authority by which all disputes about landed tenures and customs were decided," who were to state fi on oath what amount of land there was in the district, whether it was wood, meadow, or pasture, what was its value, what services were due from its owners ; and generally the numbers of free and bond on the estate " (Pearson, i. 374). The arguments of Serjeant Heywood for the identity 2 of the villein with the ceorl or twihynde man seem to me very strong indeed ; and Mr. Pearson tells me that in the earlier use of the word villanus, the first which he knows, — namely, that in the preamble to the Decree of the Bishops and Witan of Kent about keeping the peace under Athelstan, which speaks of Thaini, Comites, et Villani,, — he thinks that " villan " means " ceorl " very literally. Serjeant Heywood first shows that the Textus Roffensis, in explaining a passage from the Judicia Civitatis Lunclonice like that quoted above from the Anglo-Saxon Laws 3 " makes it ' Of the name viUa?msSevjt. Heywood ranks of society as freemon, socmen, says, " I have not met with it in any and perhaps in some cases bordars and authentic documents till about the time cottars. It must be remembered that of the Conquest, but it is found in the the Eectitudines Singidarum Pcrsona- laws of Edward the Confessor, William rum use the word villanus to translate the Concpueror, and Henry the first. the Saxon geneat, and that the word Among the Saxons were many words ccorla does not occur in the whole docu- descriptive of persons engaged in hus- ment." bandry, as ceorls, cyrlisc men, geneats, ' De gentis et legis honoribus. Fuit tunesmen, landsmen, &c, but the pro- cpiondam in legibus Anglorum ea gens per appellation for a villan has not et lex pro honoribus, et ibi erant sapi» been ascertained." — Pp. 290-1. But entes populi honore digni, quilibet pro see the next paragraph above. sua ratione ; comes et colonics, thanus et 2 Mr. Pearson says we must " under- rusticus (eorl and ceorl, thegen and stand it with the reservation that while thcowen). the vast majority of the ceorl class had Et si colonus tamen sit, qui habeat degraded into the position of villans, integras quinque hydas terra?, ecelesiam others were distributed in the different et culinam, turrim sacram {bill hus) et xl ON " BONDMAN." relate to villan and not to ceorls (L. coloni\ whence we may infer that the author considered them as the same persons " (Disser- tation, p. 185). He next shows that the eighth law of William the Conqueror, which makes the were of a villan only 100 shillings, was probably wrongly transcribed ; and that the seven- tieth law of Henry I. expressly defines the free twihind as a villan : — " the were of a twihind, that is, a villan, is five pounds : twyhindi, i. villani, ivera est IV lib';" — and the 76th law classes the twihinds among the free men. Also that in other parts of the laws, villans are ranked with ceorls and twihinds. Moreover the weres of a cyrlisc man & [that is, or] a villan are ex- pressly mentioned, and required to be regulated in the same manner as that of a twelfhind. 1 — Heyioood, p. 295. Another proof may be adduced from their being liable to the pay- ment of reliefs which never were called for from the servile class. When, therefore, provision was made in the laws of William the Conqueror for the exaction of a relief from every villan, of his best beast, whether a horse, an ox, or a cow, we must conclude that, at the time of compiling those laws, namely, about four years after the Conquest, a villan was a freeman, and this notwithstanding the concluding words of the law, et postm sint omnes villani in franco plegio, which must be taken as confirming an old truth, for the payment of one relief — which villans before the Conquest had paid — could not have turned an unfree man into a free one. Serjeant Hey wood adds : Another powerful argument in favor of the supposition that villans ranked among freemen, arises from the consideration that, unless this had been the case, the bulk of the population of England must have been found in the servile class. We cannot imagine that the farmers, who held at the payment of rent, either in money or kind, could be so very numerous as to furnish victuals for the armies which were collected, provide members for all the tythings, and crowd the public assemblies which were held for judicial purposes. But upon the demesne lands of almost every lord, villans might be found, and if they were admitted to bear the name, and partake of the privileges of freemen, and rank with ceorls or twihinds, the difficulty vanishes (p. 300). atrii sedem (Imrhgeat sctl) ac officium habere quinque hidas de suo proprio distinctum (.sunder note) in aula regis, allodii &c. ib. p. 185. ille tunc in posterum sit jure thani ' Eodem modo per omnia de cyrlisci (th'-gen rihtas) dignus. — Hcgwood, p. vel villani wera fieri debet secundum 184. Text. Boff. 46 has for colonits of modum suum, sicnt de duodecies cen- the above, villanus. " Et si villanus ita teno diximus. — LI. Hen. i. 76 ; Wilkins, crevisset sua probitate, quod pleniter 270, in Hcywood, p. 295 n. ON "BONDMAN." xli Professor Pearson looks on the villans as ' bond upon bond land,' and as to the numbers of them and the freemen and the population generally at Domesday, gives Sir Henry Ellis's and Sir James Macintosh's calculations as follows : We may probably place it [the population] at rather over than under 1,800,000 ; a number which may seem small, but which was not doubled till the reign of Charles II., six hundred years later. Re- verting to the actual survey, we find about two thousand persons who held immediately of the king (E 1400, M 1599), or who were attached to the king's person (M 326), or who had no holding, but were free to serve as they would (M 213). The second class, the free upon bond-land, comprised more than 50,000 ; under-tenants or vavasors (E 7171, M 2899) ; burghers (E 7968, M 17,105); socmen (E 23,072, M 23,404) ; freemen, holding by military service, or having been degraded into tenants to obtain protection (E 14,284) ; and ecclesiastics (E 994, M 1564). The largest class of all was the semi-servile. Of these villeins (E 108,407, M 102,704), and bordars, 1 or cottiers (E 88,922, M 80,320), make up the mass, about 200,000 in all. They were bond upon bond-land, that is to say, their land owed a certain tribute to its owner, and they owed certain services to the land ; they could not quit it without permission from their lord. But they were not mere property; they could not be sold off the soil into service of a different kind, like the few slaves who still remained in England, and who numbered roughly about 25,000. The large number of the middle classes, and the small number of slaves, are points in this estimate that deserve consideration. It is clear that the conquest did not introduce any new refinement in ser- vitude. In a matter where we have no certain data, all statements must be made guardedly ; but the language of chroniclers and laws, and the probabilities of what would result from the anarchy and war that had so long desolated England under its native kings induce a belief that the conquest was a gain to all classes, except the highest, in matters of freedom. In Essex the number of freemen positively increased, and the change may probably be ascribed to the growing wool-trade with Flanders, as we find sheep multiplying on the great estates, and with the change from arable to pasture-land fewer labour- ers would be required. The fact that the large and privileged class of soc-men was especially numerous in two counties, Norfolk and Suffolk, in which a desperate revolt had been pitilessly put down, seems to show that existing rights were not lightly tampered with. In Bed- fordshire, however, the soc-men were degraded to serfs, probably through the lawless dealing of its Angevine sheriff, Raoul Taillebois, and the county accordingly fell off in rental beyond any other in 1 Heywood draws a distinction be- &c, who are generally mentioned after tween the villans and bordars, cottars, them in Domesday. xlii ON "BONDMAN." England south of Humber, though it Lad enjoyed a singular ex- emption from all the ravages of war. The concluding paragraph of the foregoing extract is printed because in it is, forme, pointed out the true cause of the villan's hardships, of the exactions of which his class so bitterly com- plained, the character of the Norman baron, and his power over his dependants. The thirtieth law of Henry I. speaks in mode- rated phrase the spirit of the earlier time. It calls the villans with the cocseti and pardingi (probably bondmen inferior to the villans) hujusmodi viles vel inopes personal, declares them disqualified to be reckoned among judges, excludes them from bringing any civil suits in the county or hundred courts, and refers them, for the redress of injuries, to the courts of their own barons (Hey wood, p. 291). 1 And it is (I believe) precisely because Edward I. made a resolute attempt to break down this power of the barons over their villans, 2 which must have often been awfully abused, — and not only tried to, but did to some extent substitute his own judges' court for the barons' one 3 — thereby rescuing many a villan from a bondman's fate ; it is for this reason that he is the hero of our ballad of John de Reeve. Not only for the long shanks with which he strode against Wales, or the hammer he wielded against Scotland, was the first king who conceived and fought for the unity of Great Britain dear to the villans of 1 Villani vero, vel cocseti vel pardingi inquiries of this Commission the first vel qui sunt hujusmodi viles vel inopes chapter of the Statute of Gloucester, personse, non sunt inter legum judices relating to Liberties, Franchises and Quo numerandi, unde nee in hundredo vel Warranto (by what warrant the Parties comitatu pecuniam suam, vel domino- held or claimed) was founded (ib.). rum suorum forisfaciunt, si jnstitiam 3 See below, and also the Statute of sine judicio dimittant, sed summonitis 4 Edw. I. A Statute concerning Jus- terrarum dominis inforcietur placitum tices being assigned, called Bageman. termino competent!, si fuerint vel non " It is accorded by our Lord the King, fuerint antea summoniti cum secuti jus and by his Council, that Justices shall Ee&timatis. — LI. Hen. i.e. 30; Wilkins, 248, go throughout the Land to inquire, hear, in Hcywood, p. 292. and determine all the Complaints and 2 One of the first Acts of his (Edward Suits for Trespasses committed within I.'s) Administration, after his Arrival these twenty-five years past, before the from the Holy Land, was to inquire into Feast of Saint Michael, in the fourth the State of the Demesnes, and of the year of King Edward ; as well by the Eights and Eevenues of the Crown, and King's Bailiffs & Officers as by other concerning the Conduct of the Sheriffs Bailiffs, & by all other Persons whom- and other Officers and Ministers, who soever. And this is to be understood had defrauded the King and grievously as well of outrageous Takings, and all oppressed the People (Annals of Waver- Manner of Trespasses, Quarrels, and ley, 235) Hundred Bolls, i. 10. On the Offences done unto the King and othors, ON " BONDMAN. xliii his own ' and after times. His steps and his blows came nearer their homes, and did something to clear oppressors out of their path. When in easier days they could sing of olden time, they gave the long king a merry night with three of their kin, and remembered with gratitude England's u first thoroughly consti- tutional " sovereign. This I gather from one of a series of interesting articles on the " Eights, Disabilities, and Wages of the English Peasantry " in the new Series of the Law Maga- zine and Review. But I am anticipating. In the time of Edward I. bondage was looked upon as no part of the common law ; it existed by sufferance and by local usage, and was recognised^ but only barely tolerated by the law. The law was on the side of freedom. A leaper or land-loper, as a fugitive was called, could rarely be recovered in a summary manner ; if he chose to deny his bondage, the writ of niefty did not give the Sheriff autho- rity to seize him ; the question of his condition had to stand over until the Assizes, or had to be argued in the Court of Common Pleas. — Law Mag. 1862, vol. xiii, p. 38-9. We need not attribute a long range of foresight, or very enlight- ened views of freedom, to the counsellors of Edward I. Their re- sistance to villenage was instinctive rather than deliberate. Yillen- age in their eyes appeared to be a consequence of those powers of local jurisdiction which had been indispensable in former times on account of the weakness of the central power, but were no longer wanted since the central power had become truly imperial. The same landlords who claimed a right to keep their dependents in bondage, usually claimed some degree of judicial power ; they claimed to have a more or less extensive cognizance over crimes committed, and criminals arrested within their precincts. Such a claim could only rest upon prescription ; any such pretension not touched in the Inquests heretofore found Gloucester or Quo Warranto of 6 by the King's command, as of Trespasses Edw. I. committed since. And the King willeth, " And the Sheriffs shall cause it to be that for Relief of the People {pour le commonly proclaimed throughout their allcgaunce del poeple) and speedy execu- Bailliwicks, that is to say, in Cities, tion of Justice, That the Complaints Boroughs, Market towns, and else- of every one be heard before the afore- where, that all those who claim to have said Justices, & determined, as well by any Franchises, by the Charters of the Writ as without, according to the Arti- King's Predecessors, Kings of England, cles delivered unto the same Justices ; or in other manner, shall come before & this is to be understood as well withiu the King, or before the Justices in Franchise as without. Also the King Eyre, at a certain day and place, to show willeth that the same Justices do hear what sort of Franchise they claim to and determine the Complaints of those have, and by what Warrant." who will complain of Matters done by ' I do not forget the groans of " The any one contrary to the King's Statutes, Song of the Husbandman " (temp, as well of what concerneth the King as Edw. I.) printed in Wright's Political the people." See also the Statutes of Sotigs for the Camden Society. xliv ON " BONDMAN." supported by immemorial usage would soon be upset by the King's attorney. The general Government struggled hard to extend its jurisdiction, to extinguish the private courts, to bring as many cases as possible before the Courts at Westminster, and before the Justices in Eyre. The private courts were not abolished, but gradually superseded. After all that the lords could do to keep their villeins from Assizes, villeins constantly became jurors, and bond-lands were constantly drawn into the King's Courts, and were thus in the way to be drawn into freeholds. Perhaps every circuit of the judges emancipated a number of bondmen. — lb. p. 40. In seeking for the light in which the Norman baron would regard his Saxon villans, I think that Mr. Thomas Wright l is justified in his adduction of the following instances, The chronicler Benoit (as well as his rival Wace) extols Duke Richard II. for the hatred which he bore towards the agricultural or servile class : " he would suffer none but knights to have employ- ment in his house ; never was a villan or one of rustic blood ad- mitted into his intimacy ; for the villan, forsooth, is always han- kering after the filth in which he was bred." — p. 237, ]>e )>ridde cume'5 efter, & is The third flatterer cometh wurst fikelare, ase ich er seide : after, and is the worse, as I said vor he preiseS f>ene vuele, & before, for he praiseth the wicked his vuele deden, ase J>e ]>e seiS to and his evil deeds ; as he who ]>e knihte ]>et robbed his poirre said to the knight that robbed his men, "A, sire! hwat tu dest poor vassals, "Ah, sire! truly wel. Uor euere me schal J^ene thou doest well. For men ought cheorl pilken & peolien : uor ahvays to pluck and pillage the he is ase ]>e wioi, J>et sprutteft churl ; for he is like the willow, ut ]>e betere ]>cet me hine ofte which sprouteth out the better cropped." that it is often cropped. — Ancren Riwle (? ab. 1230 a.d.) p. 87, Camden Soc. 1853 (quoted in part by Wright). and in referring to those most interesting Norman-French satires on the villans that M. Francisque Michel published, and which contain such passages as the following : Que Diex lor envoit grant meschief, Et mal au cuer, et mal au chief, Mai es bouche, et pis es dens, Et mal dehors, et mal dedens . . . Et le mal c'on dist ne-me-touehe, Mal en orelle. et mal en bouche ! (Dcs XXIII ManUres de Vilains, Paris, 1833, p. 12.) 1 Paper on the political condition of Middle Ages, in Archceoloyict, vol. xxx. the English Peasantry during the p. 205-44. ON " BONDMAN." xlv " Why should villans eat beef, or any dainty food ? " inquires the writer of Le Despit au Vilain ; "they ought to eat, for their Sunday diet, nettles, reeds, briars, and straw, while pea shells are good enough for their every-day food. . . . They ought to go forth naked, on bare feet in the meadows to eat grass with the horned oxen. . . . The share of the villan is folly, and sottishness and filth ; if all the goods and all the gold of this world were his, the villan would be but a villan still."— Wright, p. 238. 1 Though Mr. Wright's conclusion as to " the condition of the English peasant or villan during the 12th, 13th, and 14th cen- turies " may be exaggerated, yet much truth in it there must be : Tied to the ground on which he was born in a state of galling bondage, exposed to daily insult and oppression, he served a master who was a stranger to him both by blood and language. The object of his lord's extortions, frequently plundered with impunity, and heavily taxed by the king, he received in return only an imperfect and precarious security for his person or his property. The villan was virtually an outlaw ; he could not legally inherit or hold " lord- ship," and he could bring no action, and, as it appears, give no testi- mony in a court of law. He was not even capable of giving educa- tion to his children, or of putting them to a trade, unless he had previously been able to obtain or purchase their freedom, which depended on his own pecuniary means, and on the will and caprice of the lord of the soil. All Norman barons were not brutes of the Ivo Taillebois 2 type, but I look on it as certain that the bitter cry of the villans which reaches us from the pages of the old chroniclers and writers is not a mere bit of rhetoric, but speaks what the villans and poor really suffered and felt. I also look to the generations immediately succeeding the Conquest for the growth of the legal view of villanage and its consequences which is stated by Littleton (ab. 1480 a.d.) and 1 On the property needed for a Nor- and as the Chronicle declares, " he man villan to marry on, see the tract twisted, crashed, tortured, tore, impri- De I' Oustillenient cm Villain (xiii e siecle) soned and excruciated them." See also Paris 1863. Henry of Huntingdon's account of 2 He was one of the most cruel and Robert de Belesme, Earl of Shropshire, hateful scoundrels who ever defaced " He preferred the slaughter of his cap- God's earth. He used to make the tives to their ransom. He tore out the poor Saxons serve him on bended knee, eyes of his own children, when in sport and then in requital burned their houses, they hid their faces under his cloak, drowned their cattle, and set his bull- He impaled persons of both sexes on dogs to torment them. With diabolical stakes. To butcher men in the most cruelty he made them incapable of work horrible manner was to him an agree- by breaking their limbs and backs ; — able feast." (Faivar.) xlvi ON " BONDMAN.' Coke, among' others, from Bracton, Fleta, &c. and which justi- fied any amount of rapacity and exaction on the part of the feudal superior. There were two classes of villans, 1. regardant, attached to the soil of a manor, and sold with it like a cowshed or an ox, but seemingly not liable to be removed from it, though Littleton's words allow the removal ; 2. in gross, landless, and attached to the person of a lord, and saleable or grantable to another lord, like a chattel. Littleton translated (ed. 1813). § 181. Also there is a villein re- gardant, and a villein in gross. A villein regardant is, as if a man be seised of a manor to which a villein is regardant, and he which is seised of the said manor, or they whose estate be both in the same manor, have been seised of the villein and of his ancestors as villeins and neifs ! regardant to the same manor, time out of memory of man. And villein in gross is where a man is seised of a manor, whereunto a villein is regardant, and granteth the same villein by his deed to another ; then he is a villein in gross, and not regardant. § 172. Tennre in villenage, is most properly when a villein holcleth of his lord, to whom he is a villein, certain lands or tene- ments according to the custom of the manor, or otherwise at the will of his lord, and to do his lord villein service, as to carry and recarry the dung of his lord ont of the city, or out of his lord's manor, unto the land of his lord, and to spread the same upon the land, and such like. *■> Or as Coke puts it, fol. 120 b. He is called regardant to the mannour, because he had the charge to do all base or villenous services within the same, and to gard and keepe the same from all filthie or loathsome things that might annoy it : and his service is not certaine, but he must have regard to that which is commanded unto him. And therefore he is called regardant, a quo prcestandum servitium incertum et inde- terminatum, ubi scire non potuit vesjoere quale servitium fieri debet mane, viz. ubi qtcis facer e tenetur quicquid ei prceceptum fuerit (Bract, li. 2, fo. 26, Mir. ca. 2, sect. 12) as before hath beene ob- served (vid. sect. 84). He says also at fol. 121 b. Tilings incorporeall which lye in grant, as advowsons, villeins, commons, and the like, many be appendant to things corporeall, as a mannour, house, or lands. As illustrations of the truth and the working of these legal 1 A woman which is villein is called a neif, § 186. ON " BONDMAN." xlvii doctrines, take the following instances out of many. About 1250 a.d., says Mr. Wright in Arckaeol. vol. xxx, quoting Madox's Formulare Anglicanum 318-418, The abbot and convent of Bruerne sold " Hugh the shepherd, their naif or viUan of Certelle, with all his chattels and all his progeny, for 4s. sterling; " and the abbot bought of Matilda, relict of John the physician, for 20s., " Richard, son of William de Estende of Linharn, her viUan, with all his chattels and all his progeny;" and for half a mark of silver, a villan of Philip de Mandeville " with all his chattels and all his progeny." ; Early in Henry III. (1216-72 A.d. his reign) Walter de Beau- champ granted by charter " all the land which Richard de Grafton held of him, and Richard himself, with all his offspring." . . In 1317 Roger de Felton gave to Geoffry Foune certain lands, tene- ments &c. in the town and territory of Glanton, " with all his villans in the same town, and with their chattels and offspring." We may also note the dictum of CoweFs Institutes: " Villaines are not to marry without consent of their patrons." — W. Cr.'s translation, 1651, p. 24. But the sharpest pinch of the matter lay in the theory — and practice often, I do not doubt — that all the villan's goods were his lord's, 1 that whatever the lord took from him, he had no remedy against the lord for. "o Sect. 189, fol. 123 b. Also, every villein is able and free to sue all manner of actions against everie person, except against his lord, to whom he is villeine. On which Coke says : For a villeine shall not have an appeale of robberie against his lord, for that he may lawfully take the goods of the villeine as his own (18 Edw. 3, 32 ; 11 Hen. 4, 93 ; 1 Hen. 4, 6 ; 29 Hen. 6, tit. Coron. 17). And there is no diversitie herein, whether he be a vilein regardant or in grosse, although some have said the contrary. And look at what early book you will, — Homilies, Political Songs, Robert of Brunne 2 , Chaucer, Gower, &c. — if it touches the subject at all, you are sure to find the lords' and their stewards' arbitrary extortions complained of and reproved. Before quitting this branch of the subject it may be well to quote on it the words of the editor of Domesday, Sir Henry 1 Cp. the extract from Chaucer, p. 2 See the quotation from his Hand- 554-5 below. lyJig Synne below. xlviii on "eondman. v Ellis. After a longish quotation from Blackstone's Commentaries upon the villani, he says (General Introduction to Domesday Book, vol. i. p. 80) : There are, however, numerous entries in the Domesday Survey which indicate the Villani of that period to have been very different from Bondmen. They appear to have answered to the Saxon Ceorls, while the Servi answered to the Deowas or Esnen. By a degradation of the Ceorls and an improvement in the state of the Esnen, the two classes were brought gradually nearer together, till at last the military oppression of the Normans thrusting down all degrees of tenants and servants into one common slavery, or at least into strict dependance, one name was adopted for both of them as a generic term, that of Villeins regardant. The next questions are, how long were the words bonde and bondman used for the villan class ; and when did their bondage cease ; or at least, did it continue, and if so, with what amelior- ation did it continue, up to the time when our ballad may be supposed to have been written ? As the names require extracts, the two questions may be treated together. Archdeacon Hale, writing of the land and villans of the Priory of St. Mary's, Worcester, in or about 1240 a.d. says: The quantity of land in villenage in each manor being fixed, and the quantity of labour due from it fixed also, it follows that the lords of manors were not arbitrary masters who had unlimited power over the person and property of these tenants. There is, however, too much reason to believe that, taking into account the labour of various kinds to which the holder of a small quantity of villan land was liable, he paid what was equivalent to a high rent. His position as a holder of land, which would descend to his family, was superior to that of the modern labourer ; and yet he might not be better off in a pecuniary point of view. His place in society was marked also by the obligation to give " Thac et Thol, auxilium et merchet, et in obitu melius catallum." (Thac was " Pig-money, a payment made by the villans to the lord in the autumn for every pig (the sows excepted), of a year old one penny, and under the year a halfpenny. Thol, the Penny paid by the villans for licence to sell a horse or ox." Hale, p. xx, xli. On Thol, see also p. lii.) This fixity of rent, and Professor Kogers's pleasant view of things, make one side of the question; the legal power of the lord over all his villan's property, and the exactions out of him complained of by preachers, poets, and writers, the other. In Layamon the word bonde is used once, in the de- on "bondman." xlix scription of the treacherous slaughter of Vortiger and his companions by Hengest and his : Earlier text, 1200-20. Later text, bef. 1300. >er wes ol Salesburi J>ar was a bond of Salusburi, an oht bonde icumen ; |>at bar on his honde senne muchelne msein clubbe ane mochele club, he bar on his rugge. for to broke stones. The earlier text Sir F. Madden translates : There was a hold churl l of Salisbury come; he bore on his back a great strong club. In one of a series of interesting articles on the " Eights, Disabilities, and Wages of the Ancient English Peasantry," in the Law Magazine and Review, New Series, xi. 259, &c, I find at p. 263, under the date of 1279 a.d. At the same place [Mollond at Castle Camps, in the south-eastern corner of Cambridgeshire] there "were several [27] tenants, [four of whom are women,] described as Bondi, bondmen. 2 One of them [i.e. each, except 12 who held in couples] held 16 acres of land in villen- age. It does not appear that he paid any mail or gable. He re- turned a goose and a hen, worth 3d., 20 eggs worth ±&., and a quarter of oats worth 12d. He worked for the lord twice a week from Michaelmas to Pentecost, and thrice a week from Pentecost to Michaelmas, and ploughed nine acres in the year. It is plain that this man was an operative tenant. 3 Haveloh the Dane comes next, and in it the bondman is the peasant or ploughman: Thider komen bothe stronge and wayke ; Thider komen lesse and more, That in the borw thanne weren thore ; Champiouns, and starke laddes, Bondemen with hero gaddes, Als he comen fro the plow ; There was sembling inow : (ed. Madden, p. 39, 1. 1012-1018.) Another drem dremede me ek, That ich fley over the salte se Til Engeland, and al with me That euere was in Denemark lyues, 1 Ceorl is used in the book in the gallinaw, & valewt iij d. ; xx. ova qum general sense of man. valent oholum [±d.], & j quaxterium 2 PBondes, who might be freemen. aven« quod valet" xijd., & faeit a festo Thoy are given between the Customary Sawed Micharlis usqwe Tentccostam, etc. Tenants and the Cottars. —2 Hundred Bolls (ed. 1818), 425, 8 Bondi. Hugo Hugo tenet xvi. acras col. 1. terve in villenagio, & dat j aucam et j VOL. II, d 1 ON "BONDMAN." But bondemen, and here wines, And that ich kom til Engelond, Al closede it intil min hond, And Goldeboro y gaf the : — {The same, p. 50, 1. 1304-1311.) In the Song of the Husbandman, of the reign of Edward I. (1272-1307 a.d.) in Wright's Political Songs, Camden Soc. p. 150, boncle represents the " peasant" class. Thus me pileth the pore, and pyketh ful clene, The ryche raymeth withouten eny ryht ; Ar londes and ar leodes liggeth fol lene, Thorh b[i]ddyng of baylyfs such harm heth hight. Meni of religione we halt hem ful hone, Baroim and boncle, the clerc and the knyght. (MS. Harl. 2253, leaf 64.) In 1297, taking that as Robert of Gloucester's date, he says of William the Conqueror and his ' high men : ' Hii to-draweth ]>e sely boncle men, as wolde hem milde ywys. — ii. 370. which the latter reading gives as Hii tormenteth hure tenauntes, as hulde hem they wolde. Again in one of the Lives of Saints, said to have been written by Robert of Gloucester, is this passage : If a bondemaii hadde a sone : to elergie idrawe, He ne scholde, without his loverdes leve : not icrouned beo. (ab. 1300-10 a.d. Life of Beket, 1. 552.) Robert of Brunne, in the lifelike sketch which he gives us of the England — or, at least, the Lincolnshire — of 1303, as he tells the men of his day of their sins, of course does not forget the bondman and his lord, of course remembers the poor : Blessyd be alle poore men, For God almy3ty lonej? >em. {Handlyng Bynne, p. 180, 1. 5741-2.) One tale that he tells shows a certain independence on the part of a bondman, and I therefore take that first, from the Handlyng Synne, p. 269-70. In a Norfolk village a knight's bouse and homestead (manor) were near the churchyard, into which his herdsmen let his cattle, and they defiled the graves. A boncle man saw that, was woe that the beasts should there go, went to the lord, and said, " Lord, your herds- men do wrong to let your beasts defile these graves. Where ON "bondman." li men's bones lie, beasts should do no nastiness." The Lord's answer was "somewhat vile," "A pretty thing indeed to honour such churls' bones! What honour need men pay to such churls' livid bodies?" And then the bonde-man said him words full well together laid: The lord that made of earth-e, earls, Of the same earth made he churls : Earles might, and lordes stut, (strut) As ehurles shall in earth be put, Earles, ehurles, all at ones ; (once) Shall none know your, from our, bones. Which reproof the lord took in good part (few would have done so, says Robert of Brunne '), and promised that his beasts should no more break into the churchyard. But still there is evidence enough in the Handlyng Synne that if a lord wanted a bondman's wife or daughter, he would not only carry her off, but brag of it afterwards (p. 231, 1. 7420-7) ; and as to the treatment of the poor by their superiors, Robert of Brunne asks — he is not here translating Wadington — Lord, how shul bese robbers fare, pat be pore pepyl pelyn ful bare, — Erles, knygtes, and barouns And ouber lordynges of tounnes, Justyses, shryues and baylyuys, pat be lawes alle to-ryues, And be pore men alle to-pyle ? To ryche men do bey but as bey wylle. — (p. 212, 1. 6790-7.) He goes on denouncing them who " pyle and bete many pore men," and contrasts their conduct with that of Dives to Lazarus, whom Dives did not rob of gold or fee, He dyde but lete an hounde hym to : Ye ryche men, weyl wers 30 do ! Ye wyl noun houndes to hem lete, But, 36 self, hem sle and bete. He ne dyde but wernede hym of hys mete ; And 3e robbe al bat 3e mow gete. Ye are as Dyxies bat wyl naghte 3gue ; And wers : for 3e robbe bat bey [the poor] shulde by lyue. (Handlyng Synne, p. 213, 1. 6812-19.) In a previous passage the lords' arbitrary exactions from 1 byr are but fewe lordes now Lordynges, — byr are ynow of bo ; bat turne a wrde so wel to prow ; Of gentyl men, )>yr are but fo But who seyb hem any skylle, [few]. Mysseye a3en fouly bey wylle. (12 Hi ON "BONDMAN." men in bondage — or vileynage as Wadington has it — are ex- pressly mentioned : And 3yf a lorde of a tounne Robbe his men oute of resoune, )>oghe hyt be yn bondage, A^ens ry3t lie dobe outrage. He shal so take bat he [the bondman] may lyue, And as lawe of londe wyl for3yue ; For ^yf he take ouer mesure, Lytyl tyme shal hyt dure. J>oghe God haue jeue be seynorye, He 3af hym no leue to do robborye ; For god hab ordeyned al mennys state, How to lyue, and yn what gate ; And bo^t he 3yue one ouer ober my3t, He wyl bat he do hym but ry3t. J>ys ys be ry3t of Goddys lokyng : 3elde euery man hys owne byng. But God takeb euermore veniaunce Of lordys, for swych myschaunce, For swych robbery bat bey make, J>at ofte of be poure men take. He then tells a tale of what a Knight suffered in Purgatory (or hell) fire, for robbing a poor man of a cloth, and winds up with the moral : Certys befte rytf wykkede ys . . . Namly • pore men for to pele Or robbe or bete wyb-oute skyle. 2 The next reference to the word in Stratmann's Dictionary is to William and the Werwolf, (better, William of Palerne: E. E. Text Soc. 1868, Extra Series,) of ab. 1340 a.d. 1. 216. do quickliche crie Jmrth eche curatre of J>i king-riche hat barou??s burgeys & bonde 3 & alle ober burnes J>at mowe wi3tly in any wise walken a-boute bat bei wende wi3tly as wide as bi reaume. {William and Werwolf, p. 77, ed. Madden.) In William of Malvern's 4 Vision of Piers Ploughman, about 1362 a.d. we have: 1 especially. < Mr. Hales's name for the author of reason. the Vision, who is sometimes called 3 Bonde, n. S. Bondsmen, villains ; as Langland. As there is no real evidence opposed to the orders of barons and for the name Langland, I prefer the burgesses, IT.— Glossary to the above. vaguer title William of Malvern, though But the bonde are still one of the three Malvern is only mentioned in the first principal orders of men, as shown by of the poems of which the Vision is the " other burnes " who are not worth composed, specifying.— Skeat. ON " BONDMAN.' liii Barouns and Burgeis ■ and Bondc-men also I sau3 in bat Semble. — (p. 6, 1. 90, ed. Skeat.) In \v light's edition of the Vision, i. 88, 1. 2859 is — And as a bonde-m?ca. of his bacon his berde was bidraveled. And part of the knight's duty is — And misbeode bou not \>i bondemen • be beter bou schalt spede. (Pas. vii. 1. 45, Vernon Text, ed. Skeat, p. 76.) In the third text of the Vision we read — Bondmen and bastardes • and beggers children, These bylongeth to labour ■ and lordes children sholde serven, Bothe God and good men • as here degree asketh • And sith, bondemenne barnes ■ han be made bisshopes, And barnes bastardes ■ han ben archidekenes ; And sopers and here sones ■ for selver han be knyghtes, And lordene sones here laboreres.— (ab. 1380. Vision of Piers Plowman. Whitaker's text. Passus Sextus.) Mr. Skeat says that the various readings in the MSS. of the Vision show that bondage or bondages was used for bonde- men, and that bonde is thus connected with the verb to bind. Chaucer uses bondemen and bondefolk 1 as the equivalents of cherls and thralles in his Persones Tale, de Avaritia (p. 282 ed. Wright, quoted below, p. 554-5), while in The % Frere's Tale the use is of one bound : Disposith youre hertes to withstonde The fend, that wolde make yow thral and bonde. 2 The year 1394, or thereabouts, gives us that wonderful picture of a bondeman or ploughman whom its painter saw, 1 And fortherover, ther as the lawe sayth, that temporel goodes of bondefolk been the goodes of her lordes ; ye, that is to understonde, the goodes of the imperour, to defende hem in here righte, beut not to robbe hem ne to reve hem. 2 In the Elegy on the Death of King Edward III. the phrase " bide her bonde" is glossed "remain as their captive." This goode schip, I may remeno [so] To the Chilvalrye of this londe, Sum time thei counted noujt a bene. Beo al Ffrance Ich understonde Thei tok & slou3 hem with heore honde The power of Ffrance both smal and grete, And brou^t ther Kyng hider to bide her bonde. And nou ri3t sone hit [the ship] is for3ete. Myrc's use of bonde is this: Fyrst bow moste bys mynne, What he ys bat doth be synne, Wheber hyt be heo or he, I'ongc or olde, bonde, or fre, Pore or ryche, or in offys. (Ab. 1430, Myrc, Instructions for Parish Priests, p. 47.) llV ON " BONDMAN." and which will not be out of the mind of anyone who has studied it : And as y wente be j>e waie ■ wepynge for sorowe, [I] sei3 a sely man me by ■ opon be plow hongen. His cote was of a cloute " i>at cary was y-called, His hod was hill of holes ' & his heer oute, Wib his knopped schon ■ clouted full bykke ; His ton toteden out • as he ]pe londe treddede, His hosen ouerhongen his hokschynes ■ on eueriche a side, Al beslombred in fen • as he be plow folwede ; Twey myteynes, as mete ' maad all of cloutes ; pe fyngers weren for-werd ■ & ful of fen honged. pis whit waselede in bo [fen] ■ almost to be ancle, Foure roberen hym by-forn ' )>at feble were [worsen] ; Men myjte reken ieh a ryb " so reufull bey weren. His wijf walked him wib " wib a longe gode, In a cutted cote ■ cutted full hey3e, Wrapped in a wynwe schete ■ to weren hire fro weders,' Barfote on be bare ijs ■ \>at be blod folwede. And at be londes ende laye ■ a litell crom-bolle, And \>eron lay a litell childe ■ lapped in cloutes, And tweyne of tweie 3eres olde • opon a-no \>er syde, And alle bey songen o songe • bat sorwe was to heren ; pey crieden alle o cry • a carefull note. (Pierce the Ploughman's Crede, 1. 420-441, ed. Skeat, 1867.) Those last two lines sum up for me the English history of the English poor (as has been said elsewhere), it was " full of care." Frater Galfridus, about 1440, has in the Promptorium Bonde, as a man or woman, Servus, serva. Bondman . Servus, nativus [neif.] Bondschepe . Nativitas : but Bondage . Servitus. That the lord's power over his bondmen was a reality, and that he " frequently took advantage of his power to tyrannize, is proved by the example of Sir Simon Burley, the tutor of Richard II., who seized forcibly an industrious artizan at Grravesend, on the plea of his being his escaped bondsman, and, when his exorbitant demand was refused, threw him into the prison of Rochester Castle." — (Wright in Archceol. xxx. 235.) And that the Lord's power over his bondman existed into the 16th century is shown by the following extracts. 2 1 It is a wyues occupation, to wynowc hay, come, and suche other. ? 1523. all manner of comes, to make malte, to — Fitzherbert's Husbandry, ed. 1767, washe and wrynge, to make heye, shere p. 92. come, and in time of node to helpe her 2 Mr. "Wright says, "We can trace husbande to fyll the mucke-wayne or these charters of manumission [of rib dounge-carte, dryue the ploughe, to loode lans] down to a very late period. In 2 ON "bondman." lv In 1519 among the Duke of Buckingham's payments in Prof. Brewer's Calendar, in., Pt. i. p. 498, is — 25 March, to Walter Parker, 40£, " restored to him for a fine by nim made to me, for that he was my bondman, and made free during his life, for that I gave him a patent." In 1521 on " The Duke's Lands . . at Caurs (in Wales) are " Many bondmen both rich and poor. — ib. p. 509. In 1523 (?), Fitzherbert says : Customary tenauntes/ are those that holde their landes of their lorde by copye of courte role/ after the custome of the manere. And there may be many tenau>ites with-in the same manere y* have no copyes/ and yet holde be lyke custome and seruyce at the wyll of the lorde. and in myne opinyon/ it began soone after the conquest/ whan Wyllyam Conquerour had conquered this realme/ he rewarded all those that came with hym in his voyage royall accordyng to their degre. And to honourable men he gaue/ lordshippes/ maners/ landes/ and tenementes/ with all the inhabytau«tes/ men and women dwell- yng in the same/ to do with them at their pleasure. And those honourable men thought y* they must nedes haue seruauntes and tenauwtes/ and their landes occupyed with tyllage. Wherfore they pardoned the inhabytauntes of their lyues/ and caused them to do all maner of seruyce that was to be done/ were it neuer so vyle / and caused them to occupye their landes and tenementes in tyllage and toke of them suche re?ttes/ customes/ and seruyces/ as it pleased them to haue. And also toke all their goodes & catell at all tymes at their pleasure/ and called them their bonde wen. and sythe that tyme/ many noble men bothe spirytuall and temporall, of their godly disposycion/ haue made to dyuers of the sayd bonde men manu- missions, and graunted them fredome and lybertie. and set to them their landes and tenementes to occupy/ after dyuers maners of rentes/ customes/ and seruyces, the whiche is vsed in dyuers places vnto this daye. how be it in some places the bonde men contynue as yet/ the whiche me semeth is the grettest inconuenye»t that nowe is suffred by the lawe. That is, to haue any christen man bonden to another/ and to haue the rule of his body/ landes and goodes/ that his wife chyldren and seruauntes have laboured/ for all their lyfe tyme/ to be so taken/ lyke as and it were extorcion or bribery. And many tymes Ric. II., just before the peasants' insur- we have a charter of affranchisement rection, John Wyard or ' Alspach ' by the priory of Beauvalle in 6 Hen. V. manumits a female villan, and gives her, a.d. 1419, and another by George Nevile, with her liberty, her goods and chattels, lord Bergerenny, as late as 2 Hen. VIII., and the liberty of all her offspring : and a.d. 1511." lvi ON "BONDMAN." by colour therof/ there be many fre men taken as bonde men/and their landes and goodes taken fro them/ so that they shall not be able to sue for remedy / to prove them selfe fre of blode. And that is moost commenly / where the fre men have the same name as the bonde men haue/ or that his auncesters of whome he is comen/ was manumised before his byrthe. In suche cause there can nat be to great a punysshement. for as me semeth there shulde no man be bonde but to god/ and to his king and prince ouer hym. Quia deus lion facit exceptionem personarum. For god maketh no excepcyon of any person. — Fitzherbert's Bohe of Surveyeng 8f Improiomentes Cap. xiii. fol. xxvi. I do not carry these extracts further, because those that have been given — and they might be ten-folded with ease — suffi- ciently prove the reality of the hardships which the bondmen suffered, and that certain of these hardships were in being as late as Fitzherbert's time, about 1520. Vague talk that the doctrine of the law-books was never carried out in practice, that monkish writers exasperated a molehill into a mountain &c, will not do in the face of the evidence that literature supplies. " Master Fitzherbarde " was not a sentimentalist, but a practical horsebreeder, farmer and surveyor, 1 and spoke of the bondmen's evils as he would speak of his broodmares' ailments. There is no need for us then to imagine — as Professor Eogers does, in his very valuable and interesting History of Prices, i. 81— a cause, of which no trace has come down to us, for Wat Tyler's rebellion. Cause enough, and to spare, there was in the condition of the men, if only that shown in their demand " that we, our wives and children, shall be free." Granted that the students of literature and charters alone get from them too dark a view of the state of the early poor, — as Mr. Wright may have done — yet we must declare that the student of prices on college lands alone gets a too rose-coloured view, and that the wrongs of the bondmen were real and deep ; even Chaucer and Froissart witness it. On this bonde and bondeman question I conclude then, though with much diffidence, and acknowledging the insufficiency of the evidence for some points : 1, that the bonde was originally free, that he was the Saxon ceorl or twihind, with a Danish name ; 2, that if not partially before, yet wholly after, the Conquest, his class, or the greater part of it, became bondmen or villans, bond on bond-land ; 3, that gradually they threw off their ser- 1 It must be a mistake to identify him with Sir Anthony Fitzherbe.rt. on "bondman." lvii vice and signs of bondage, taking the first decided step in advance in Edward I.'s time, the second and more decided one in Edward III. and Richard II. 's time ; 4, that in 1520 the burden of bondage was still heavy. (It gradually disappeared, 1 except so far as our present copyhold fines and heriots repre- sent it. Slavery was abolished by a statute of Charles II. The attempt to abolish it in 1526 proved a vain one. Wright.) But our bondman was John the Reeve, though no special duties of his as Eeeve are alluded to in the Ballad. On those duties in Anglo-Saxon times the reader may consult the references in Thorpe's Index to the Ancient Laws, vol. i., and section 12 of the Institutes of Polity, in vol. ii. p. 320-1. The office of Eeeve was one that every villan was bound to serve, and although the Laiv Magazine says it was one which the villan rather declined and avoided, 2 it must have been one which, in later times at least, helped to fill its holder's pockets. The Reeve's duty was to manage his lord's demesne, to superintend the service-tenant's work on it, to collect the lord's dues and rent in money and kind, and submit his accounts yearly to the auditor. As the Sloane MS. Boke of Curtesye says of the greve or reve — Grauys, and baylys and parker, Schone come to acountes euery yere Byfore \>o auditour of bo lorde onone, pat schulde bo trew as any stone, Yf he dose horn no ry3t lele, To a baron of chekker bay mun hit pele. (Babees Book, p. 318, 1. 589-94.) And as William of Malvern savs — 1 The name seems to hare lasted The late abridgement of Jamieson longer in Scotland than in England ; gives " Bonday Warkis, the time a see Jamieson's Dictionary, 4to, 1825, tenant or vassal is bound to work for Supplement : the proprietor." " Bondage, Bonnage, .s. The desig- ' l The chief incidents of base tenure nation given to the services due by a which affected the villein's person are tenant to the proprietor, or by a cot- collected in one of Edward II.'s Year- tager to the farmer. [Used in] Angus." books. (5 Ed. II.) They were, — 1. The "Another set of payments consisted blood fine, or marriage ransom ; 2. the in services, emphatically called Bonage faille or tallage, a variable charge, sup- (from bondage). And these were ex- planted by regular taxation, unless it en- acted either in seed-time, in ploughing dured under the name of chevage ; 3. the and harrowing the proprietor's land, — obligation of undertaking the office of or in summer, in the carriage of his reeve or bailiff, an invidious dignity coals, or other fuel ; and in harvest, in which the villein rather declined and cutting down his crop." — Agricultural avoided. — Law Mag. § Rev. xiii. 11. Survey of Kincardineshire, p. 213. lviii ON " BONDMAN." I make Piers the Plowman my procuratour and my reve, And registrar to receyve. 1 Eedde quod debes (v. ii. p. 411, ed. Wright). And again — "S l Thanne lough ther a lord, and " by this light " seide, " I holde it right and reson, of my reve to take Al that myn auditour, or ellis my steward Counseileth me bi hir acounte and my clerkes writyng. With spiritus intellectus thei seke the reves rolles ; And with spiritus fortitudinis fecche it I wole after." {Vision, ii. 423.) Need one quote Chaucer's sketch of the Reeve — Wei cowde he kepe a gerner and a bynne ; Ther was non auditour cowde on him wynne. Wei wiste he by the drought, and by the reyn, The yeeldyng of his seed, and of his greyn. His lordes scheep, his neet, [and] his dayerie, His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrie, Was holly in this reeves governynge, And by his covenaunt yaf the rekenynge, Syn that his lord was twenti yeer of age ; Ther couthe noman bringe him in arrerage. Ther nas baillif, ne herde, ne other hyne, That they ne knewe his sleight and his covyne ; They were adrad of him, as of the deth. His wonyng was ful fair upon an heth ; With grene trees i-schadewed was his place. He cowde bettre than his lord purchace. Ful riche he was i-stored prively, His lord wel couthe he plese subtilly, To geve and lene him of his owne good, And have a thank, a eoto, and eek an hood. In youthe he lerned hadde a good mester ; He was a wel good wright, a carpenter. This reeve sat upon a well good stot, That was a pomely gray, and highte Scot. A long surcote of pers uppon he hadde, And by his side he bar a rusty bladde. Our Reeve too has " a rusty bladde," rides a good horse, has a fair dwelling, and is "ful riche istored prively," but Hodgkin Long and Hob of the Lathe are " not adrad of him as of the deth." As he was the King's reeve and should have collected taxes 2 as well as dues and rents, 3 he ought to have been a good scribe and summer-up, but the ballad does not read as if he was. His 1 See the extract at the end of this 3 Toulmin Smith's Parish, p. 506, paper, line 12 from foot. refers to a rentcharge paid to the King's 2 If Mr. Toulmin Smith be right in reeve, his view, p. 557 note below. ON " BONDMAN." lix enemy is not the auditor, of whom we hear nothing, but the courtier or purveyor who could report his wealth to the King, and get leave, or take it, to put the screw on him. He sells his wheat (1. 144) to get it out of sight (?) ; — money could be more easily hidden ; — and he has a thousand pounds and some deal more. The supper of his pretended poverty — bean-bread, rusty bacon, broth, lean salt beef, and sour ale, may well have been bondman's food in Edward I.'s time, better than many got in Edward III.'s, as William of Malvern shows {Vision, Passus VII. 1. 267-82, ed. Skeat, p. 88-9, text A) ; but could the supper of his actual wealth, boar's head and capons, woodcocks, venison, swans, conies, curlews, crane, heron, pigeons, partridges, and sweets of many kinds, have been ever Eeeve's food then ? I trow not. Chaucer's Frankeleyn couldn't have given a better spread in Richard II.'s time, and John Kussell's Franklen in Henry VI.'s days (ab. 1450-60 a.d., say,) hardly exceeded it: A Fcst for a Franklin. " A Franklen may make a feste Improberabille, brawne with mustard is concordable, bakon ser ued with pesofi, beef or moton stewed smiysable, Boyled Chykofi or capon agreable, convenyent for be seson ; Rosted goose & pygge fulle profitable, Capon / Bakemete, or Custade Costable, when eggis & crayme be geson. berfore stuffe of household is behoveable, Mortrowes or Iusselle ar delectable for be second course by reson. Than veel, lambe, kyd, or cony, Chykoii or pigeon rosted tendurly, bakemetcs or dowcettes with alle. ben followynge frytowrs, & a leche lovely ; suche seruyse in sesouw is fulle semely To seme with bothe chambur & halle. Then appuls & peris with spices delicately After be terme of be yere fulle deynteithly, with bred and chese to calk. Spised cakes and wafurs worthily withe bragot & methe, bus men may meryly plese welle bothe gret & smalle." (Bubces Booh; p. 170-1.) lx ON "BONDMAN." Edward I.'s order for his own coronation feast was 380 head of cattle, 430 sheep, 450 pigs, 18 wild boars, 278 flitches of bacon, and 19,660 capons and fowls (Macfarlane, Cab. Hist. iv. 11, referring to Eymer). Only in bacon, boar, and capons could the king have come np to his reeve. To what date then are we to bring the ballad down ? I don't know, and, if the reason I have assigned for its being tacked on to Edward I. be the right one, I don't care ; for the main point to me is its connection with him. But taking the ballad as it stands, the mention of the Galliard in it, 1. 530, p. 579, shows that it was recast, if not composed, after 1541, when that dance was introduced. Also the Northern forms baine, 1. 504, gauge,!. 209, 343, 864, strung, 1. 332, seile, 1. 502, ryke, 1. 263, farrand, 1. 353, 358, &c, the present no-rhymes of both and lath, 1. 623-4, 641-2, arse and worse, 1. 668-9, toieele and soule, 1. 806-7, &c, show that our version is an altered copy of a Northern original, or Northern copy. I say copy, because if lathe is the Anglo-Saxon IcbtS, a division of the county peculiar to Kent, the scene of the ballad must have been Kent ; but Chaucer's use of the word in its sense of barn, in his Reeve's Tale — Why nad thou put the capil in the lathe ? l and Brockett's in his Glossary of North Country Words, Lathe or Leathe, a place for storing hay and corn in winter — a barn. saves us from the necessity of supposing a double transformation of the ballad, though this would be authorised by the ascription of it to "the south-west country" in 1. 909. The Northern saint sworn by in 1. 744, St. William, Archbp. of York in the 12th century, tends to confirm the Northern origin, as does the " clerke out of Lancashire " who read the roll that contained the tale, 1. 8-12. 1 The Promptorium gives " Berne of speaking of the partition of England lathe (or lathe P.), Horrcum," p. 33, and into shires and lathes, says " Some, as Mr. Way says, " Lathe, which does it were roming, or rouing at the name not occur in its proper place in the Lath, do saie that it is derived of a Promptorium, is possibly a word of barn, which is called in Old English a Danish introduction into the eastern lath, as they coniecture." " Horrcum est counties," Lade, horrcum, Dan. Skinner locus ubi rcponitur annona, a barne, a observes that " it was very commonly lathe. Grangia, lathe or grange. — Or- used in Lancashire." At p. 288 he also tus. Orreum, granarium, lathe." — Vo- says that Bp. Kennett notices it also as cab. Koy. MS., 17, C. xvii. Way. a Lincolnshire word, and that Harrison, ON "bondman." lxi If asked to guess a date for the composition of the ballad, I should guess the earlier half of the 15th century, while for the recast of it I should guess the latter half of the 16th, or the former half of the 17th. The tradition embodied in it is, I doubt not, of the 13th century. Let me add, before ending this long rigmarole, 1 that John the Eeeve was a well-known typical personage, like Piers Plowman, &c, as is shown by the following extract from a discussion on the Real Presence in the Harleian MS. 207 : [leaf 1], BomiHi est sperare in domino quern et sperare [1532.] The Banckett of Iohan the Reve. Vnto peirs ploughman. Laurens laborer. Thomlyn Tailyor. And hobb of the hille. with other. [leaf 2] [A] relacion maide. by hobb of the Lille vnto Sir Iohan the par- iche preste vpon A comminicacion. Betwene. Iacke lobe Servyng- man of thone p«/*tie. And. Iohan the reve. Pens plowghman. Lawrence Laborer. Thomlyn tailyor. And hobb of the hille of thother partie. Wherin the said Sir Iohan wold maike none Awnswer vnto he knewe the olde vecar mynde. the wiche saide vecar wrote lyenge in his bedd veray seeke. and delyuerde hys mynde in wrytynge. vnto his pa/iche preste. And the said prest delyuerd the same booke to hobb of the hille. counsellynge hym to learne it. wherebye he myght be more able to maike better Answere to snche light fellows if he chaunced to here any snche Comminicacion in tyme to co«ime. Hobb of the hille said vnto sir Iohari .;. Good morow Sir Iohan .;. And he Answered .;. Good morrowe hobb .;. Hobb said .;. Sir Iohan I am veray glade of our metynge .;. For I am desirouse of your coun- selle in a weightie matter Sir Iohan said. Marie ye shalle haue the beste councelle that is in me .;. What is your matter Bie my faithe Sir .;. yesterdaie My master [leaf 2 b.] and Iohan the reve maid a feaste. And piers plewghman. Laurence laboror. And Thomlyn tailyor was at dyner at our house, And I semed them at dyner. And or halfe dyner was done, coiume in a Servynge man called Iacke Iolie. Rent getherar vnto my ladie. For my master Iohan the reve was Receuor this yeare : And when Iack[e] lobe was sett downe. He demaunded whether we had any messe or no .;. And my master saide 1 I ought to apologise for its short- the delay named, I have set down comings. It has been put together in opinions, many of which, though hastily- great haste, Mr. Hales having been un- expressed, have not been hastily formed, fortunately unable to treat its subject, as my long connection with working for which Part II. has been kept back men and with Early English may four months. Feeling obliged to say guarantee, something on the question to excuse lxii ON " BONDMAN." we hadde, and trustede to haue .;. Than saide Iacke Iolie that we war blynded for waunt of teackynge. for it is plane ydolatrie to beleue thai the bodie and hloude of criste ar in firme of breade and wyne ministrede in the alter, And for his purpose he Aleged Many Sayenges, As of Martyr luther. Eocolampadius. Caralstadij. Iohan Firtz Malangton, with many dyuerse other .;. Than peirs ploughman waxed woundrus Angrie. and called Iacke Iolie. fals heritike. Than my master desired them bothe to be content in his house, and to reason the matte 1- gentlie. And thei warre bothe contente So to doo.;. lxiii NOTES. p. xxx. " Evans, Pinkerton, Hurd, Ritson." Here Hurd is a mistake for Herd, who published two vols, of Scottish Ballads. — D. ( = Alexander Dyee.) p. 1, Chevy Chase. See Mr. Maidment's comments on this "modern version" in his Scotish Ballads, 1868, i. 81.— F. that "expliceth," quoth Eichard Sheale, does not mean that Sheale was the author, but the scribe. So one of the Piers Plowman MS., (Harl. 3954) ends — quod Heruw, &c. — Skeat. p. 2, " That day " &c. In the " Complaynt of Scotland," which was not written before 1547, mention is made of the " Hunttiss of Chevot," and of " The persee and mongumrye met," as if these were the titles of two separate ballads. That these were two distinct ballads founded on the battle of Otterbourne, and known in Scotland by the above titles, is extremely pro- bable ; for though, in the Scottish ballad of the " Battle of Otterbourne " the line " The Percy and Montgomery met " occurs, the name of Cheviot is never mentioned. Dr. Percy, in quoting the above line from the " Com- playnt of Scotland," gives "That day, that day, that gentil day" as the following one ; but that is, in fact, the title of another ballad or song. Dr. Rimbault. Musical Illustrations, p. 1. p. 5, Battle of Otterbourne. See Mr. Robert White's full account of it, with an appendix and illustrations. London, 1857. — P. p. 6, 1. 7 from foot : for Wold read Henry Bold. Another edition, says Mr. E. Peacock, is a fcp. 8vo. of 39 pages. " Chevy Chase, a ballad, in Latin Verse, by Henry Bold, accompanied by the original English Text. London, Printed by Henry Bryer, Bridge St. Blackfriars, 1818." p. 8, 1. 30, read/a* buckes — Ch. ( = F. J. Child.) p. 11, 1. 123, lyons woode, beyond doubt. — Ch. layd on lode ( = a load), as Skeat explains, is, I think, certain. — Ch. p. 12, 1. 143, " which struck" (as in Old Ballads, 1723) is certainly the read- ing.— Ch. p. 14, 1. 198 : sorry you left too full : no doubt of doleful. — Ch. p. 17, When Loue with vneonfined wings. This version is very corrupt, and inferior to the printed copy of 1G49. See my edition of Lovelace, 1864. — Hazlitt. p. 20, 1. 8, 16, 24, enioyes. This is exactly the reverse of what the poet meant and wrote. — Hazlitt. The right burden is, " Know no such Liberty," but the 4th or last stanza has " Injoy such Liberty." — F. lxiv NOTES. p. 21, Cloris. See my communication to Notes and Queries, 3rd Series viii. 435, and Bell's edition of Waller. — Hazlitt. p. 24, 1. 3. The Percy Society reprinted the edition of 1686, but imperfectly. — Hazlitt. p. 28, 1. 13, read yeelded.— Ch. p. 30, In Scots poems, &c, as Percy says, we find " Hollow, my Fancie : " but there are 17 stanzas, and many differences. The last 9 — including only the last of those in the MS. which is also the last in the Scots Poems copy — are said to have been " writ by Colonel Clealand of my Lord Augus's regiment, when he was a student in the College of Edinburgh, and 1 8 years of age." — Ch. p. 35, 1. 2. 1639 as the date of Carew's death is only conjectural. — H. ( = W. C. Hazlitt.) p. 37, 1. 6. 1731. This Collection was printed in 1662, 8vo, and again, with some changes, in 1731, 2 vols. 12mo. — H. p. 38, 1. 22, for soine read sinne (the idea is that the Lower House sinnes when it does sit). — Ch. p. 39, note. Percy's Lumford is of course a penslip for Lunsford. Sir "Walter Scott, in a note to chap. xx. of Woodstock, gives another version of the 2nd verse of this Ballad, and an account of Lunsford, but there are mistakes in it. Scott's verse is — ■ The post who came from Coventry Biding in a red rocket, Did tidings tell, how Lunsford fell, A ehilds hand in his pocket. The same child-eating scandal is noticed in Bump Songs, pt. i. p. 65 : From Fielding and from Vavasour, Both ill-affected men ; From Lunsford eke deliver us, That eateth up children. The best account of Lunsford that I know is in The Gentleman's Magazine, vol. 106, pt. i. 350, 602; pt. ii. 32, 148; vol. 107, pt. i. 265. Cf. Rush- worth Hist. Col., vol. iii. pt. i. p. 459; Add. MSS. 1519 f. 26, 6358 f. 50 f 5702 p. 118. There is an engraving among the King's Pamphlets in the British Museum — I cannot give the press mark — representing Sir Thomas Lunsford at full length. In the background is a church in flames, and a soldier with a drawn sword' pursuing a woman ; a companion is catching another woman by her hair. Under the engraving are these lines : I'll helpe to kill, to pillage, and destroy All the opposers of the Prelacy. My fortunes are grown small, my friends are less, I'll venture, therefore, life to have redress ; By picking, stealing, or by cutting throat es, Although my practise cross the kingdom's votes. p. 45, 1. 32, for witt read woe. — Ch. p. 50, ffowfayre shee be. The earliest appearance of this song of Wither's was in A Description of Love, 1620 ; then again it appeared at the end of Fairc Virtue &c, 1622, unless the undated sheet in the Pepysian Library be older, which is moro than possible. — Hazlitt. NOTES. 1XV p. 52, 1. 2, read hdlydom (halidom) ; Note the rhyme. — Ch. 1. 3, omit Z— Ch. p. 53, 1. 12, Percy is right, and Mr. Chappell wrong : the rhyme is with braines, not square. — Ch. 1. 19, drouth, for rhyme, as Percy suggests. — Ch. 1. 25, drop of, hurts metre and sense : ' will you be the taster?' is the mean- ing. — Ch. 1. 28, Exus = Naxos of course : 29, coyle, rare. — Ch. ]. 29, coy.se should be coyle : compare 1. 2. — D. 1. 34, for of read on. — Ch. p. 54, 1. 42, read toward : 50, sword's. — Ch. 1. 54, read Cynthia's fellow, Muses' deere, i.e. (Diana's mate, darling of the Muses).— Ch. p. 55, 1. 72, grace: some word like care is wanted. — Ch. p. 56, The Grene Knight. Gaseoigne the poet, when he was on service in the Low Countries, tells us that he acquired the nickname of The Green Knight under circumstances of a peculiar character. — Hazlitt. p. 63, 1. 123, note, Percy's 'gan is wrong. — Ch. 1. 126, thy should be thee: you can do nothing with the Sax. \>y. — Ch. 1. 146, 147, ren&praye, blin ; (transpose the ; and ,). — Ch. p. 64, 168 (he had sayd nothing), qy. kele? (i.e. so have I hele). — Ch. p. 65, note 4, read Egihson : braid is well enough explained by the A.- Sax. bradan, here, gripe. — Ch. p. 67, 1. 255, kell, i.e. caul, net-work for a lady's head. The note on this word is quite from the purpose. [So it is]. Compare — Faire be thy wives, right lovesom, white, and small : Clere be thy virgyns, lusty under kellys. London ! thowe art the flowre of cities all. Dunbar. Beliq. Ant. i. 206.— F. The line describes Bredbeddle's wife, not Sir Gawaine : see it referred to in Madden's Glossary, to Syr Gawayne, under " kell." — D. p. 67, 1. 236, rought = were sorry for, Sax. hreowian. — Ch. p. 71, 1. Z49,frauce, apparently from French froisser, clash, dash, &c. — Ch. 1. 355 and note. How could "beleeue" be right? To say nothing of 1. 4"8, the rhyme required proves it to be wrong. — D. p. 72, 1. 364, tho seems to me more likely to be right. — Ch. p. 74, 1. 429 : the meaning can hardly be proved about Gawaine : proved by is gone through by, performed by, I should say. — Ch. p. 75, 1. 461, throe : rightly explained in note. Icel. \>rdr has the same meaning as thra in G. Doug. : and so Sax. brat, found only in composition.— Ch. p. 76, 1. 496, other = second, as in Sax. So 1. 523.— Ch. p. 82, 1. 68, " & heard them speake " should be " & heard him speake." — D. and Ch. p. 83, 1. 75, the = thy.— Ch. VOL. II. e Jxvi NOTES. p. 86, 1. 177, noe more, read noe moe. — D. p. 88, 1. 211, some spending money. The author must have written something like money for spending. — D. Read money for spending. — Ch. 1. 214, you heyre, read your Tieyre. — D. p. 90, 1. 273, drop $ (caught from 1. 271 or 268) ; thereto makes sense. — Ch. p. 92, 1. 336, for said read had.— Ch. p. 94, 1. 399, fone should be. foe (unless in the concluding line of the stanza goe be an error for gone). — D. 1. 402, read go[?i]e. — Ch. p. 98, 1. 523, other = second : cf. 1. 496.— Ch. 1. 534, soe bee, read soe beene. — D. p. 99, 1. 556, " for to his graue he rann " ought manifestly to be " for to his mas- ters graue he rann " : compare 1. 543. — D. 1. 557, read followed. — Ch. p. 104, 1. 693, thither wold he wend, ? read thither wold he right. — D. p. 108, 1. 800, read rest.— Ch. 1. 807, why not read shivver? shimmer makes no sense. — Ch. p. Ill, 1. 895, noe more, read noe moe. — D. and Ch. p. 112, 1. 919, in the crye, an undoubted error for in the stowre. — D. p. 113, 1. 964, was past, read was gane, or gaen (i.e. gone). — D. p. 117, 1. 1048, read with thee.— Ch. 1. 1067, I should understand yerning as eager, &c. It is very expressive of the noise of a dog who wants a thing very much. — Ch. p. 119, 1. 1125, for his heire, read is neire. — Ch. I took it for is here. — F. p. 120, 1. 1165, read come. — Ch. p. 122, 1. 1202, busied, ? bustled, made a stir, made a " towre." — Ch. 1. 1207, ve&dfyery wood? — Ch. p. 125, 1. 1300, read moe. — Ch. 1. 1305, feelds, certainly fells.— D. p. 128, 1. 1403, blithe, read bliue (i. e. quickly). — D. p. 132, 1. 1496, affrayd should be aghaste — Copland's ed. having the right reading in 1. 1494, wonder faste, and brast being the final word of 1. 1500. — D. p. 133, 1. 1528, Sir Marrockee the hight. If this be right, it means " they called him Sir Marrock " : but qy. he hight (i.e. he was called)? — D. Why not, he hight ?— Ch. p. 136, Gvye and Amarant. This is a portion of The Famous Historie of Guy Erie of Warwicke, &c, by S. Rowlands ; and I cannot but think that Mr. F. mistakes the nature and intention of it. Rowlands is evidently imitating the serio-comic romance poetry of Italy, a kind of writing which has been popular in that country, from Pulci down to Fortiguerra.— D. notes. Ixvii p. 136. I do not understand note 3, " torn out &c." — Ch. Page 253 of the MS. was torn out, Percy said, to send King Estmcre, which was on it, to press. — F. p. 137, 1. 45, recovers — recover his, of course. — Ch. p. 139, 1. 92, this coward art, read this coward act. — D. p. 140, 1. 135, (probably) den[a]yd.— Ch. p. 145, 1. 2, She. " The Duke of Buckingham's Manifestation of Remonstrance, with a Journal of his Proceedings in the Isle of Eee, 1627, 4to." An unhappy View of the whole Behaviour of my Lord Duke of Buckingham at the French Island called the Isle of Rhee, discovered by Colonel William Fleetwood, an unfortunate commander in that untoward service, 1648. This most fierce and prejudiced impeachment of an expedition, ill planned and unhappily ter- minated, is reprinted in the fifth volume of the Somers Collection of Tracts. Lowndes. The Expedition to the Isle of Bhe, by Edward, Lord Herbert of Cherbury. Edited by Lord Powis for the Philobiblon Soc. I860. — F. p. 147, King and Miller, the first known edition was imprinted at London, by Edward Allde [circa 1600].— Hazlitt, p. 148, 1. 2, read the Reeve.— Ch. p. 155, 1. 186, read a botts.— Ch. p. 160, 1. 1, for is read It is. 1. 2, for differ en read different. IRQ l" 72' I 60>000 is evidently the right reading, as the metre shows. — Ch. p. 168, 1. 57, and last, read at last. — D. p. 172. the last line of notes, Jmrms should be harms. — D. 1. 135. In Rymer, ix. 317-18, is Robert Waterton's petition to be repaid the costs of the Duke of York, and the prisoners (1) Count de Ewe, (2) Arthur de Bretaigne, (3) le Mareschall Buchecaud, Perron de Lupe, and Cuchart de Sesse, these 3, at s. 23, 4d. a day, and other travelling ex- penses. At p. 334, Rymer, ix, are " Beds, curtains, &c. for the Dukes of Orleans and Burbon, at Eltham, the Tower of London, Westminster, Wind- sor, and diverse other places." p. 360 is, de Domino de Lyne, prisonaris. — F. p. 174, Conscience. Compare The Booke in Meeter of Bobin Conscience, ? about 1550; and Allde's edition before 1600, printed in Halliwell's Contributions to Early English Literature, 1849, and with 4 additional stanzas in Hazlitt's Early Popular Poetry, iii. 221. Compare also A piece of Friar Bacons Brazen-heads Prophesies, 1604, (Percy Society, 1844,) Lauder's poem on the Nature of Scotland twiching the Inter tainment of virtewus men that lacketh Byches, $c, and Martin Parker's Bobin Conscience, or Conscionable Robin. His Progresse thorow Court, City, and Countrey: with his bad entertainement at each severall place. Very pleasant and merry to bee read. Written in English by M. P. Charitie's cold, mens hearts are hard, And most doores against Conscience bard. London 163o, 8vo., 11 leaves. Bodleian. (Burton's Books) Hazlitt's Hand- book. — F. p. 186, 1. 49, read denide. — Ch. e 2 lxviii notes. p. 188, 1. 104, sore should be dropped and the line not indented : sore is evidently- caught from the line above. — Ch. p. 190, Harl. MS. 4843 (paper). Article 11 is "Anno Domini millesimo cccxlvi die Martis, in vigilia Lucse Evangelistse, hora M&tictina ix. commissum fuit bellum inter Anglos et Scotos non longe a Dunelmia, in loco ubi nunc stat crux vulgariter dictus Nevillcrosse " Poema rhythmicura, [leaf] 241. Harl. Catal. • p. 191, 1. 2, hearken tome a litle [while?] — Ch. p. 199, 1. 245, read brother, (" to the KiDg of ffrance" is a marginal gloss). — Ch. 1. 245, &c, brothers should be brother; and the words to the King of ffrance is a gloss crept into the text. — D. p. 200, last line but two of note, for 63-6 read 63-8. (Durham Feilde is likely enough by the author of Flodden Field). — Ch. p. 201, See the " Discendants from Guy, Earl of Warwick ; i.e. of the family of Arden of Parke-Hall in Com. Warwic. who were indeed descended from the Great Turchil, who lived at the time of the Conquest." Harl. MS. 853, leaf 113. Mr. Halliwell in his Descriptive Notices of Early English His- tories, p. 47-8, says of the story of Guy : " This tale was dramatized early in the 17th century, and Taylor mentions having seen it acted at the Maidenhead of Islington." " After supper we had a play of the life and death of Guy in Warwicke, played by the Eight Honourable the Earle of Darbie his men." Pennilesse Pilgrimage, ed. 1630, p. 140." Dr. Eimbault prints the tune of the ballad at p. 46-7 of his Musical Illustrations, from the Ballad Opera of " Robin Hood," performed at Lee and Harper's Booth in 1730. The ballad, he says, "was entered on the Stationers' books, 5th January, 1591-2."— F. p. 202, 1. 37, the grave is a ridiculous blunder for the cave. — D. 1. 47, ingrauen in Mold should be ingrauen ins tone. Here the scribe repeated by mistake the word Mold from the first line of the stanza. — D. p. 203, last line but 4, read " Mawgertoun." — Ch. p. 203, 1. 5 from foot. Nephew to the Laird of Mangcrtoun (misprinted Marger- toun). This reference to the nephew of the Lord of Mangerton, the chief of the Armstrongs, leads to the inference that the circumstances on which the ballad is founded had occurred previous to the rescue of William Arm- strong of Kinmont, as Sir Eichard Maitland was born in 1496, and died at the advanced age of ninety, on the 20th of March, 1586. Jock, in 1569, gave protection to the Countess of Northumberland, after the unfortunate rising and defeat of her husband and the Earl of Westmoreland, when they were both compelled to fly from England. After an unsuccessful attempt to take refuge in Liddesdale, they were compelled to put themselves under the protection of the Armstrongs of the Debateable land. The Countess, who did not accompany them, her tire-woman and ten other persons who were with her, were unscrupulously despoiled by the Liddes- dale reivers of their horses, so that the poor lady was left on foot at John of the Side's house, a cottage not to be compared to many a dog-kennel in England." Maidment's Scotish Ballads, i. 182-3. Maidment also gives the ballad of Hobbie Noble at p. 191, showing how he was betrayed into the hands of his enemies by the Armstrongs, whose Jock he had rescued. — F. p. 204, 1. 4, he is gone, read he is gone or gaen (i.e. gone). — D. 1. 6, (of Maitland) read anc for and. — Ch. NOTES. lxix p. 217, 1. 14, has received, read had received. — D. p. 222, 1. 106, face seems to be an error for eye. — D. 1. 126, . after " yee."— Ch. p. 226, 1. 214, for land read man ? (Percy has laird, but that reading is not likely in this English ballad). — Ch. p. 235, note 5, " and delend" Perhaps so ; but in old ballads and is sometimes redundant. — D. p. 237, 1. 232, soefast runn, read soefast rinn. — D. p. 240, 1. 63, with speares in brest. This, of course, should be with speares in rest.—D. (?— F.) 1. 64, . after " flight."— Ch. p. 279, Bessie off Bednall. There are several plays on this subject. The earliest is The Blind Beggar of Bednal- Green, with the merry humor of Tom Strowd the Norfolk Yeoman, as it was divers times publickly acted by the Princes Servants. Written by John Day, 1659, 4to. The latest was by my friend Sheridan Knowles. — D. p. 292, 1. 56, for shinne, read, as in the next stanza, shoone. — D. p. 297, 1. 35, pinn. I prefer pin as a corruption of point, as in " He's but one pin above a natural." Cartwright, Cf. our use of peg. The calendar, right glad to find His friend in merry pin. John Gilpin. — Skeat. p. 306, 1. 43, wadded. Surely the context, " gaule " and " greene " and " black." shows that " wadded " should be " watchct " (i. e. pale blue). — D. (? woaded. p. 313, 1. 13, sonne. Here, to be consistent, we must read sonne\s\. — D. p. 315, 1. 70, " Scarlett and redd," a blunder for " scarlett redd." — D. p. 319, 1. 200, giusts ; of course, " giusts " should be " giufts " (gifts).— D. p. 323, 1. 30, " itt is now but a sigh clout, as you may see." The note on this line is strangely wrong. " A sigh clout " is a clout for sighing (or, more pro- perly, sieing), i.e. straining milk. — D. I only know siting for strain- ing.— F. p. 328, 1. 22, for Lay, ? read he laincs (i.e. conceals). — D. p. 341, Sir Eglamore. " Sir Eglamore " must have been originally written in Northern rather than in Southern English, as appears from internal evi- dence. "We find innumerable rimes which are no rimes, but which become so at once when translated into a Northumbrian dialect. Is it not clear that such rimes as taketh and goeth should be tais and ga is ? That for tane and bone we should read tane and banc ? So, too, rare (riming to were) ought to be rair. Driueth and cliffes should be driffis and cliffis. Brew and hughe (laughed) should be drench and leuch. Abode must be aba id, if it is to rime with made (or maid). And finally, as a crucial instance, it is almost impossible to believe that the four words in stanza 75 — pace, rose, was, and taketh, were not intended to rime together in the forms pas, ras, was, and tais or tas. To take one more case, for rest, trust, cast, and last (st. 4), read lxx NOTES. rest, trist, kest, lest. And when we further observe that the rimes may be thus emended throughout the whole poe?n, surely the inference that it was of Northern origin becomes almost a certainty. — Skeat. p. 343, 1. 65, for "& show your hart & love," ? read " — hart and love her to " ?— D. In these lines, wore should be mair. — D. p. 344, 1. 93, N p. 345, 1. 132, p. 352, 1. 320, p. 355, 1.403J p. 359, 1. 505, for home read harm. — D. p. 367, 1. 702, head. There the rhyme determines that for "head" we must sub- stitute the A.-S. heved. — D. p. 369, 1. 766, for ycelde read yode (not, as Percy says, yeede). — D. p. 369, A Cauileere. See Gervase Markham's chapter " Of Hawking with all sorts of Hawkes," &c, in his Coimtrey Contentments, 1615, Bk. I, p. 87-97- " The pleasure of hawking . . is a most Princely and Berious delight." — F. p. 373, 1. 856, for rose read rase. — D. p. 382, 1. 1119, for more read moe. — D. p. 384, 1. 1117, for went hee read hee gone. p. 387, note 1. As the true reading is undoubtedly " man" why say anything about the meaning of " 3Iay"? — D. p. 388, 1. 1285, for dwell read wend.— J). p. 390, The Empcronr and the Childe, or Valentine & Orson. See Halliwell's Descriptive Notices, 18-48, p. 29-30, as to the Romance, and the prose story. p. 401, 1. 12, " that ginnyc his ffilly wold haue her owne will." Here " Grinnye" is the name of "his ffilly." If the MS. has "grimye," it is an error. — D. p. 419, 1. 106, for young read ying. — D. p. 432, 1. 439, " & said, Cozen will ! who hath done to you this shame ? " Here " will " sounds very ridiculously, as if the 3 knights were using the familiar abbreviation of their cousin's name ! Read undoubtedly (com- paring Ritson's text of the passage), " & said, Cozen William, who hath done to you this shame ? " — D. p. 454, 1. 1078, " both old & young." -|i n t^th places "young" should be p. 496, 1. 2223, "both old and young." J "ying."— D. p. 493, note 1. Wivre. See a drawing of one at p. 9 of the Bestiaire d 'Amour of Richard de Fournival, Paris, 1860 ; and Mons. Hippeau's note at p. 103-4. — F. p. 500. Childe Maurice. See R. Jamieson's notes to this ballad in his Pop. Bal. and Songs, i. 16-21.— F. NOTES. lxxi p. 505, 1. 98, and dryed it on the grasse. Jamieson compares Horn gan his swerd gripe Ant on his arm hit tvype : The Sarazyn he hit so, That his hed fel to ys to. Eitson's Met. Bom. vol. ii. p. 116. — F. p. 506. 1. 117, wicked be my merry men all. Jamieson compares with this the last 3 stanzas of Little Musgrave (i. 122, note): " Woe worth you, woe worth my merry men all," and says, " The same kind of remonstrance with those about him occurs in Lee's tragedy of ' Alexander the Great ' after the murder of Clitus." Most men want to put their sins on other people's shoulders. — F. p. 521, the extract from Lane's MS. Harl. 5243, is only his address to the reader, before his Poem on Guy. — F. p. 536, 1. 284, for noone read "noone time" (Compare, ante, p. 468, 1. 1441, — " ffro : the hower of prime till it was euensong time.")— J). p. 536, 1. 290, for there read thore.—D. p. 541, 1. 432. There is a church in Winchester called St. Swithin's, which is merely a large room over the archway of King's Gate, but it has no pre- tensions to the antiquity mentioned in your letter. The sword and axe of the giant were probably ordered to be hung up in the cathedral church, which was originally dedicated under the title of St. Peter and St. Paul ; but the body of St. Swithin having been transferred from the churchyard into the sumptuous shrine built for its reception, the cathedral from thence- forth down to the time of Henry VIII. was distinguished by the name of Saint Swithin, and this is no doubt the church alluded to. — Walter Bailey. p. 579, 1. 529. John de Reeve. The mention of the galliard here, a dance not intro- duced into England till about 1541, confirms what the language shows, that our version of the poem is a late one. — F. p. 582, 1. 606, On Chape, see Wedgwood's Diet. i. 321. Bishop #erc|vg jfolto Jl*g>. 33aIIati£> ant) Romances. -x>XKc There are two principal versions of this well-known ballad — an old, and a modern one. The copy preserved in the Folio is a slightly various form of the latter. The oldest copy of the old version is preserved in a MS. in the Ashmolean Collection at Oxford. This was printed by Hearne, in 1719, in the Preface to his edition of Grulielmus Neubrigiensis. "To the MS. copy," says Percy, "is subjoined the name of the author, Eychard Sheale [expliceth quoth Eychard Sheale] ; whom Hearne had so little judgement as to suppose to be the same with a R. Sheal, who was living in 1588." The general character of the language, if there were no other proof, proves that the ballad is of a much earlier date than 1588 ; but probably Hearne is right in identifying the subscribed "Pi. Sheale" with the well-known ballad-singer of that name, who flourished, or more truly withered, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. This Sheale was in some sort the last of the minstrels. There are 1 In the printed Collection of Old Glasgow 8 V .° 1747. — Which, is remarkable Ballads. 1727. Vol. 1. p. 108. No. xiv. for the wilful Corruptions made in all N.B. The Headings in the Margin y e Passages -which, concern the two [here transferred to the foot-notes] are Nations. — P. taken from the Scotch Edition printed at VOL. II. B 1 2 CHEUY CHASE. extant some lines of his, of very inferior merit, wherein he bewails his miserable condition. He narrates with many sighs and groans how he has been robbed, left destitute, and no man gave unto him. Certainly, if these lines are a fair specimen of his talents, one cannot wonder that he found the world somewhat cold. And certainly the author of those lines could never have written " The Hunting of the Cheviot." But he may have sung it many and many a time, and passed with many an audience for the author. And hence, perhaps, the subscription of his name to the Ashmolean copy. The ballad in his time was extensively popular. Sir Philip Sidney refers to it in a well-known passage (though, as Prof. Child suggests, it is not impossible that he may mean the "Battle of Otterbourne "), as commonly sung by " blind crowders." Many years before Sidney wrote his Defence of Poetry, the Complaint of Scotland, written in 1548, speaks of " The Huntis of Chevot," and quotes the line, That day, that day, that gentill day, which is apparently a memory-quotation, or perhaps a Scotch version of That day, that day, that dredfull day. This evidence of its popularity in the middle of the sixteenth century, coupled with the antiquity of the language (though much of that "antiquity" belongs to the dialect in which, rather than to the time at which, it was written), justify the assigning of the ballad to the fifteenth century. This ballad is historically highly valuable for the picture it gives of Border warfare in its more chivalrous days, when ennobled by generosity and honour. The hewing and hacking lose their horrors in the atmosphere of romance thrown around them. And the main incidents of the piece are no doubt generally true. Such fierce collisions as here represented must often have CHEUY CHASE. 3 occurred, and from the same cause here given. " 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." This permission the high-spirited Borderer was not always disposed to ask. He did not care to beg for favours. He would make no secret of his purposed sport, so that if the warden of the March about to be trespassed upon chose to oppose him, he was not prevented from doing so by ignorance of his intention. In this way the proclamation of a hunting expedition across the Borders was in reality a challenge to a contest. An excellent illustration of the perpetual possibility of an encounter, which attended and recommended these defiant expeditions, is to be found in the Memoirs of Carey, Earl of Monmouth. Carey was Warden of the Marches in Queen Mary's time, and gives the following account : "There had been an ancient custom of the borders, when they were at quiet, for the opposite border to send the warden of the Middle Marche, to desire leave that they might come into the borders of England, and hunt with their greyhounds for deer, towards the end of summer, which was denied them. Towards the end of Sir John Foster's government, they would, without asking leave, come into England and hunt at their pleasure, and stay their own time. I wrote to Farnehurst, the warden over against me, that I was no way willing to hinder them of their accustomed sports ; and that if, according to the ancient custom, they would send to me for leave, they should have all the contentment I could give them ; if otherwise, they would continue their wonted course, I would do my best to hinder them. Within a month after, they came and hunted as they used to do, without leave, and cut down wood, and carried it away. Towards the end of summer, they came again to their wonted sports. I sent my two deputies with all the speed they B 2 4 CHEUY CHASE. could make, and they took along with them such gentlemen as were in their way, with my forty horse, and about one o'clock they came up to them, and set upon them. Some hurt was done, but I gave especial order they should do as little hurt, and shed as little blood as possible they could. They took a dozen of the principal gentlemen that were there, and brought them to me to Witherington, where I then lay ; I made them welcome, and gave them the best entertainment I could ; they lay in the castle two or three days, and so I sent them home, they assuring me that they would never hunt again without leave. The Scots king complained to Queen Elizabeth very grievously of this fact." " Mr. Addison, in his celebrated criticism on that ancient ballad of Chevy Chase, Sped. No. 20, mistakes the ground of the quarrel. It was not any particular animosity or deadly feud between the two principal actors, but was a contest of privilege and jurisdiction between them, respecting their offices, as lords wardens of the marches assigned." Extract from the Eeport of Sir Thomas Carlton, of Carlton Hall, 1547, in Hutchinson's History of Cumberland, pp. 28-9. The general spirit of the ballad then is historical. But the details are not authentic. " That which is commonly sung of the Hunting of Cheviot," says Grodscroft, writing in his James VI.'s time, and apparently referring to a version of the ballad then circulating in Scotland, " seemeth indeed poetical and a mere fiction, perhaps to stir up virtue ; yet a fiction whereof there is no mention, either in Scottish or English Chronicle." An event to which it might possibly refer according to Collins, in his Peerage, was the Battle of Pepperden, fought in 1436, as Hector Boethius informs us, " not far from the Cheviot hills, between the Earl of Northumberland, and Earl William Douglas of Angus, with a small army of about four thousand men each, in which the latter had the advantage. As this seems tp have been a private conflict between these two great chieftains of the Borders, CHEUY CHASE. 5 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." But in any case these were great Border names. Percy and Douglas were typical chieftains. Moreover on the field of Otterbourne a Percy and a Douglas had fought fiercely together, man against man, under very similar circumstances. That field was much celebrated in Border poetry, and elsewhere. The ballad on the Hunting of the Cheviot, — borrowed largely from that on the Battle of Otterbourne, — was, in fact, in course of time believed to celebrate the same event. Observe these lines of it : This was the Hontynge of the Cheviat ; That tear began this spurn : Old men that knowen the grownde well yenough ; Call it the Battell of Otterburn. This attempt made at the identification of two actions is noticeable. We are afraid that the " old men " scarcely knew the ground well enough. Otterbourne is but some 30 miles from Newcastle. Douglas met Percy, the " Hunting " tells us, in Teviotdale. In a word, the two ballads represent two different features of the old Border life — the Baid and the defiant Hunt. But they had much in common, and so were soon confused together. Of the battle of Otterbourne, fought in 1388, there are historical accounts in abundance — Fordun's, Froissart's, Holin- shed's, Godscroft's. See Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. Of the ballad concerning it — whose account is mainly accurate — indeed the facts somewhat trammel the poet's wings, — there are three versions : the English one, given by Percy in his Reliques, from a Harl. MS. in the earlier editions, from a more perfect Cotton MS. (Cleop. iv. f. 64) in the fourth, and two Scotch ones, to be found, one in the Minstrelsy, the other in Herd's Scottish b CHEUY CHASE. Songs. The differences between the English and Scotch versions are such as might be expected — are of a patriotic kind. The main difference between the two Scotch versions relates to the death of Douglas. Of the versions of "the Hunting of the Cheviat," that preserved in the Folio is, as we have said, the modernised one ; not that heard by Sidney, who calls what he heard " the rude and ill- apparelled song of a barbarous age ; " a description not applicable to the present version. When this modernisation was made, cannot be said exactly. " That it could not be much later than Queen Elizabeth's time," says Percy, " 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 taken notice of, had it been the least exceptionable [in " a song to the lute in Musicke " from the Paradise of Daintie Devises, 1596], yet in about half a century after, it was become burlesque. Vide Hudibras, Pt. i. c. iii. v. 95." Its presence in the Folio MS. shows that it was not made later than the first half of the seventeenth century. It soon became the current version. Addison in his critique in the Spectator knows of no other. A comparison of it with the old versions will show, besides one or two verbal blunders, that much of its vigour has been lost in the process of translation. Of all our ballads this perhaps has enjoyed the widest popu- larity, both North and South of the Tweed. This popularity has scarcely ever decayed. It was translated into rhyming Latin verses by a Mr. Wold of New College, Oxford, at the instance of Dr. Compton, Bishop of London, in 1685. Vivat Eex noster nobilis, Omnis in tuto sit ; Venatus olim flebilis Chevino luco fit. It circulated on many a broad sheet. It was eulogised in CIIEUY CHASE. the Spectator in Queen Anne's reign. It was printed wherever anything of the kind was printed in the succeeding years, when such things were held in but slight esteem. It is as it were the Epic of Border poetry. (jOD Prosper long our noble Kmg, our liffes & saftyes all ! a woefull hunting once there was 4 in Cheuy Chase befall. to driue the deere with hound and borne Erie Pearcy took the way : the Child may rue that is vnborne 8 the bunting of that day ! [page 188] A woeful hunt was held in Chevy Chase. Earl Percy the stout Erie of Northumberland a vow to god did make, bis pleasure in the Scottish woods 12 3 sommers days to take ; vowed to kill Scotch deer for three days. the cbeefest harts in Cheuy C[h]ase to kill & beare away, these tydings to Erie douglas came 16 in Scottland where he Lay, wbo sent Erie Pearcy present word be wold prevent bis sport, the English Erie, not fearing that, 1 20 did to the woods resort Douglas said he'd stop that sport. But Percy went to his hunt ■with 1500 2 bowmen bold, all chosen men of Might, wbo knew ffull well in time of neede 24 to ayme their shafts arrigbt. with 1500 bowmen, 1 this.— P. 2000.— P. 8 CHEUY CHASE. and on Monday began his hunt. By noon 100 bucks are slain. After dinner, they hunt again, and the hills echo their cries. the Gallant Greyhound l swiftly ran to Chase the fallow deere ; on Munday they began to hunt 28 ere 2 daylight did appeare ; & long before high noone the had a 100 fatbuckes slaine. then hauing dined, the drouyers went 32 to rouze the deare 3 againe ; The Bowmen mustered on the hills, well able to endure ; theire backsids all with speciall care 36 that they 4 were guarded sure. the hounds ran swiftly through the woods the Mmble deere to take, that with. 5 their cryes the hills & dales 40 an Eccho shrill did make. Percy wonders whether Douglas will appear. "There he is, with 2000 men ! " Lord Pearcy to the Querry 6 went to veiw the tender deere ; quoth, he, " Erie douglas promised once 44 this day to meete me heere ; " but if I thought he wold not come, noe longer wold I stay." with that a braue younge gentlman 48 thus to the Erie did say, " Loe, yonder doth Erie douglas come, hys men in armour bright, fall 20 hundred 7 Scottish speres 52 all Marching in our sight, 1 greyhounds. — P. 2 when. — P. 3 them up. — P. * that day .—P. 5 And with.— P. 6 Quarry. — P. 7 15,00.— P. CHEUY CHASE. 56 " all pleasant men of Tiuydale l fast by the riuer Tweede." " ceaze youv sportts ! " 2 Erie Pearcy said, " and take jour bowes with speede, Percy calls on his men " & now with me, my conntrymen, yo«r courage forth advance ! for there was neuer Champion yett 3 60 in Scottland nor in ffrance to be brave ; " that euer did on horsbacke come, & if my hap 4 it were, I durst encounter man for man, 64 with him to breake a spere." Erie douglas on his 5 Milke white steede, Most Like a Baron bold, rode formost of his company, 68 whose armour shone like gold : he will fight anyone, man to man. Douglas [page 189] " shew me," sayd hee, " whose men you bee that hunt soe boldly heere, that without my consent doe chase 72 & kill my fallow deere." the first man that did 6 answer make was noble Pearcy hee, who sayd, " wee list not to declare, 76 nor shew whose men wee bee, " yett wee will 7 spend our deerest blood thy cheefest 8 harts to slay." then douglas swore a solempne oathe, 80 and thus in rage did say, asks whose men they arc that hunt his deer. Percy will not tell, but will fight for the right to hunt. Douglas declares 1 men of pleasant Tiviotdale. — P. 2 Then cease sport. — P. 3 For ne'er was there a champion. — P. 4 but if my hap. — P. 5 a.— P. 6 man that first did. — P. 7 will we. — P. 8 the choicest. — P. 10 CHEUY CHASE. that one of them must die, and as it would be wrong to kill their guiltless men, "Ere thus I will outbraued bee, one of vs tow shall dye ! I know thee well ! an Erie thou art, 84 Lord Pearcy ! soe am I ; " but trust me, Pearcy e, pittye it were, & great offence, to Kill then any of these our guiltlesse l men, 88 for they haue done none ill 2 ; he chal- lenges Percy to single combat. Percy accepts. " Let thou 3 & I the battell trye, and set our men aside." " accurst bee [he !] " Erie 4 Pearcye sayd, 92 "by whome it is denyed." A squire, Withering- ton, protests then stept a gallant Squire forth, — witherington was his name,- — - who said, " I wold not haue it told 96 to Henery our King, for shame, that he'll not look on while Percy fights : he'll fight too. The English archers shoot, and kill 80 Scots. " that ere my captaine fought on foote, & I stand looking on ■ you bee 2 Erles," 5 qtioth. witheringhton, 100 " & I a Squier alone, " He doe the best that doe I may, 6 while I haue power to stand ! while I haue power to weeld my 7 sword, 104 He fight with hart & hand ! " Our English archers bend 8 their bowes — their harts were good & trew, — att the first flight of arrowes sent, 108 full foure score scotts 9 the slew. 1 harmless. — P. 2 no ill.— P. s thee.— P. 4 he, Lord.— P. 5 Lords.- P. 6 that e'er I may. — P. 7 a.— P. 8 Scottish bent.— P. 9 they 4 score English.— P. CHEUY CHASE. 11 112 to driue the deere with hound & home, dauglas l Bade on the bent ; 2 Captaines 2 moued with Mickle might, 3 their speres to shiuers went. they closed full fast on euerye side, noe slacknes there was found, but 4 many a gallant gentleman 116 Lay gasping on the ground. The foes close, and many are slain. Christ ! it was great greeue 5 to see how eche man chose his spere, 6 & how the blood out of their brests 7 120 did gush like water cleare ! 8 Christ! it was sad to see. at last these 2 stout Erles 9 did meet Like Captaines of great might ; like Lyons moods 10 they Layd on Lode, 11 124 the made a cruell fight. Percy and Douglas fight the fought, vntill they both did sweat, with swords of tempered Steele, till blood [a-]downe their cheekes like raine 128 the trickling downe did feele. 12 till their blood drops like rain. " O yeeld thee, Pearcye ! " 13 Douglas sayd, " & 14 infaith I will thee bringe where thou shall high advanced bee 132 by lames our Scottish K.ing ; Douglas calls on Percy to yield. 1 The Scotch Editor thinks this sh? be Piercy. — P. 2 a cap*. — P. 3 pride. — P. 4 and.— P. 5 grief. — P. 6 And likewise for to hear. — P. 7 The Cries of Men lying in their gore. — P. 8 And lying here & there. — P. 9 Lords.— P. 10 mov'd. — P. ? for woode, wild. — F. or ' the mood or pluck ' of lions. — Skeat. 11 ? A.-S. leod, a man ; or for hlude, loudly. — F. or (a)load, laid on heavily. — Skeat. 12 Until the blood like drops of rain They trickling down did feel. — P. 13 yield the Lord P.— P. " d.— P. 12 CHEUY CHASE. " thy ransome I will freely giuc, & this i report of thee, thou art the most couragious Knight 136 [that ever I did see. 2 ] " Percy will never yield to a Scot. "Noe, Douglas ! " quoth. Erie 3 Percy then, [pageiao "thy profer I doe scorne ; I will not yeelde to any scott 140 that euer yett was borne ! " An English arrow kills Douglas, with that there came an arrow keene out of an english bow, who 4 scorke Erie douglas on the brest 5 144 a deepe and deadlye blow ; exhorting his men to fight. who neuer sayd 6 more words then these, " fight on, my merry men all ! for why, my life is att [an] end, 148 LorcZ Pearcy sees my 7 fall." Percy laments over his dead foe ; then leauing liffe, Erie Pearcy tooke the dead man by the hand ; who 8 said, " Erie dowglas ! for thy 9 sake 152 wold I had lost my Land ! a braver knight ne'er died. " O christ ! my verry hart doth bleed for 10 sorrow for thy sake ! for sure, a more redoubted n Knight, 156 Mischance cold 12 neuev take ! " • ' thus.— P. 2 That ever I did see.— P. 3 Lord.— P. 4 which. — P. scorke, for storke, stroke, struck; skorke means scorch; see skorche in HalliwelTs Gloss. — F. * to y heart. — P. 6 spake. — P. 7 me.— P. 8 And.- I'. life.— P. 10 with. -P. " renowned. — P. 12 did.— P. CHEUY CHASE. In 6 ICO a Knight amongst the scotts there was, which. x saw Erie Douglas dye, who straight in hart did vow revenge vpon the Lord 2 Pearcye ; A Scotch knight, Sir Hugh Montgom- ery, vows revenge on Percy, 2' parte. [Part II.] Sir Hugh Mountgomerye was he called, who, w/th a spere full bright, well monnted on a gallant steed, ran feircly through the fight, gallops to And 3 past the English archers all without all dread or feare, & through Erie Percyes Body then 168 he thrust his hatfull spere him, and runs him w/th such a vehement force & might that his body he did gore, 4 the staff ran s through the other side a large cloth yard & more. right through the body. thus G did both those Nobles dye, whose courage none cold staine. an English archer then perceiued 176 the Noble Erie was Blaine, An English archer he had [a] good bow 7 in his hand made of a trusty tree ; an arrow of a cloth yard long 8 180 to the hard head haled 9 hee, 1 that.— P. - Earl.— P. 3 He.— P. 4 His body he did gore. — P. 6 spear went. — P. 6 So thus.— P. 7 a bow Lent. — P. 8 length. — P. B unto the head drew. — P. 14 CHEUY CHASE. shoots Mont- gomery through the heart. against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye ' his shaft full right 2 he sett ; the grey goose winge that was there-on, 184 in his harts bloode 3 was wett. The fight lasts all day. this fight from breake of day did last 4 till setting of the sun, for when the rung the Euening bell 188 the Battele scarse was done. Names of the English knights slain. with 5 stout Erie Percy there was slaine 6 Sir Iohn of Egerton, 7 Sir Robert Harcliffe & Sir William, 8 192 Sir lames that bold barron ; & with Sir George & 9 Sir lames, both Knights of good account ; & good Sir Raphe Rebbye 10 there was slaine, 196 whose prowesse u did surmount. Withering- ton fights on his stumps when his legs are cut off. for witherington needs must I wayle as one in too full l2 dumpes, for when his leggs were smitten of, 200 he fought vpon his stumpes. Names of the Scotch knights slain. And with Erie dowglas there was slaine Sir Hugh Mountgomerye, 13 & Sir Charles Morrell H that from feelde 204 one foote wold neuer flee ; 1 then.— P. 2 so right his shaft. — P. 3 heart-blood. — P. 4 did last from break. — P. 8 the.— P. 6 There is a dot for the i, but nothing more in the MS.— F. 7 Ogerton. — P. 8 Eatcliffe & Sir John.— P. 9 Sir George also & good. — P. 10 Good .... Babby.— P. 11 courage. — P. 12 doleful.— P. ,3 d.— P. 14 Murray.— P. CHEUY CHASE. 15 208 Sir Roger Heuer of Harcliife tow, — l his sisters sonne was hee, — Sir david Lamb well well 2 esteemed, but saved be cold 3 not bee ; & the hord Maxwell in like case 4 w«'th Douglas he did dye ; 5 6 of 20 7 hundred Scottish speeres, 212 scarce 55 did five ; Of 2000 Scotch scarce 55 were left ; of 1500 Englishmen went home but 53 6 ; the rest in Cheuy chase were slaine, 216 Vnder the greenwoode tree. of 1500 English, only 53. [page 191] Next day did many widdowes come their husbands to bewayle ; they washt 8 their wounds in brinish teares, 220 but all wold not 9 prevayle. Next day the widows come, and weep, theyr bodyes bathed in purple blood, the bore with them away, tbey kist them dead a 1000 times 224 ere the 10 were cladd in clay. and carry the corpses off to the grave. the u newes was 12 brought to Eddenborrow where Scottlands ~K.ing did rayne, that braue Erie Douglas soddainlye 228 was With an arrow slaine. 1 Sir Cha. Murray of Eatcliffe too.— P. 2 Lamb so well. — P. 3 yet saved could. — P. 4 wise. — P. 5 did with Earl D 8 . die.— P. 6 — 6 Of 1500 Scottish spears went home but 53, Of 20,00 Englishmen scarce 55 did flee. — P. 7 15.— P. 8 MS. they washt they.— F. d.— P. 9 could not.— P. 10 when they. — P. " These.— P. 12 were.— P. 16 CHEUY CHASE. King James laments the loss of Douglas. No such captain has he left. King Henry laments Percy's loss ; he has 500 as good still left, but he will take ven- geance for Percy's death. And he did on Humble Downe, killing Lords, and hundreds of less account. God grant that strife between noble men may cease ! " i heauy newes ! " Kmg lames can say, " Scottland may wittenesse bee I haue not any Captame more 232 of such account as hee ! ' : like ty dings to Kmg Henery came within as short a space, that Pearcy of Northumberland 236 in Cheuy chase was slaine. 2 "Now god be with him ! " said our K»/, " sith it will noe better bee, 3 I trust I haue within my realme 240 500 as good as hee ! " 4 yett shall not Scotts nor Scottland say but I will vengeance take, & be revenged on them all 244 for braue Erie Percyes sake." 4 this vow the King did well performe after on humble downe ; in one day 50 Knights were slayne, 248 with Lords of great renowne, & 5 of the rest of small 6 account, did many hundreds dye : thus endeth the hunting in 7 Cheuy Chase 252 made 8 by the Erie Pearcye. God saue our 9 King, and blesse this 10 land with plentye, Ioy, & peace ; & grant hencforth that foule debate 256 twixt noble men may ceaze ! ffins. 1 Now God be with him, cried our king, Sith will no better be ! I trust I hare &c. — P. 2 Was slain in Chevy Chase. — P. 3 O heavy news, K. Henry said, Engl? can witness be. — P. 4 These 2 stanzas omitted in y e Scotch Edition. — P. See note, p. 1 . — F. 5 Now.— P. 6 m ean.— P. 7 of.— P. » led.— P. 9 the.— P. io the.— P. 17 WL\)t\\ %o\xt irn'tft fmumfinrtu 1 Lovelace's songs were in great request in his day. They were set to music by popular composers of the time, — by Dr. John Wilson, by Mr. John Laniere, by Mr. Henry Lawes whom Dante was to give Fame leave to set higher than his Casella — and circulated widely in Koyalist Society. Till 1649 — the author was born in 1618 — they led a scattered and wandering life. In that year they were gathered together and published in a volume entitled " Lucasta, Epodes, Odes, Sonnets, Songs, &c. to which is added Aramantha a Pastorall, by Richard Lovelace, Esq." Mean- while there were, no doubt, in vogue many versions of the greater favourites, more or less inaccurate. The copy of the exquisite song beginning " When Love with unconfined wings," here printed from the Folio MS., is one of these. Of all the Cavalier poets Lovelace is the most charming. He is a true cavalier ; he is a true poet. The world, that has long- turned away its ear from Cowley and Cleveland, still listens to his sweet voice. Are there any gems brighter than his song " to Lucasta on going to the Wars," or that to " Althea from Prison " ? How chivalrous the thought of them ! How tremulously delicate the expression ! His life was full of sadness. The son of a Kentish knight, educated at the Charterhouse and at Gloucester Hall, Oxford, 1 Written by Col. John Lovelase [t.i. Oxon. Vol. 2? Written by the Author Eichard Lovelace]. See Wood's Athena when imprison'd. — P. VOL. II. C 18 WHEN LOUE WITH VNCONFINED WINGS. " the most amiable and beautiful person that eye ever beheld, a person also of innate modesty, virtue and courtly deportment, which made him then [at Oxford], but especially after, when he retired to the great city, most admired and adored by the female sex." Thus physically endowed, thus happily circumstanced, he was yet crossed in love, and died in a state of destitution. Lucy Sacheverell — the Lux Casta or Lucasta of his poems, from the nunnery of whose chaste breast and quiet mind he had fled to war and arms, that "dear" whom he loved so much because he loved honour more — misled by a report that he had died of wounds received at Dunkirk while commanding a regi- ment, of his own forming, in the service of the French king, became the wife of somebody else. The close of the civil war, in which he had devoted both his services and his fortunes to his king's cause, found him beggared. His loyalist zeal got him twice into prison. " During the time of his confinement," says Wood of the first imprisonment, " he lived beyond the income of his estate, either to keep up the credit and reputation of the king's cause by furnishing men with horses and arms, or by relieving ingenious men in want, whether scholars, musicians, soldiers, &c. ; also by furnishing his two brothers Colonel Franc. Lovelace, and Capt. Will. Lovelace (afterwards slain at Caer- marthen) with men and money for the king's cause, and his other brother called Dudley Posthumus Lovelace with monys for his maintenance in Holland to study tactics of fortification in that school of war." " After the murther of King Charles I., Lovelace was set at liberty [from his second captivity], and having by that time consumed all his estate, grew very melan- choly (which brought him at length into a consumption), became very poor in body and purse, was the object of charity, went in ragged cloaths (whereas when he was in his glory he wore cloth of gold and silver), and mostly lodged in obscure and dirty places, more befitting the worst of beggars and poorest of servants, &c. . . WHEN LOUE WITH VNCONFINED WINGS. 19 He died in a very mean lodging in Gunpowder alley near Shoe- lane, and was buried at the west end of the church of St. Bride alias Bridget in London, near to the body of his kinsman, Will. Lovelace of Gray's Inn, Esq." — " Eichard Lovelace, Esq.," says Aubrey, " obiit in a cellar in Long Acre, a little before the restauration of his ma tie . Mr. Edm. Wyld, &c, had made collections for him and given him money Geo. Petty, haberdasher, in Fleet Street, carryed XXs to him every Munday morning from Sir Many, and Charles Cotton, Esq., for months, but was never repay'd." He died in 1658, and so was saved from experiencing Stuart gratitude. These accounts of his dismal indigence may perhaps be coloured. But there can be no doubt he ended in extreme poverty, in a sad contrast to the brilliancy of his early days. The following song was written during his first captivity. He had been chosen by his county to present a Petition to the House of Commons " for the restoring of the king to his rights, and for setling the government." He presented it, and by way of answer was committed to the Grate House at Westminster. But his mind, innocent and quiet, took his prison for a hermitage. His gaolers heard him singing in his bonds. Love with wings that brooked no confinement hovered near him. Brought by that chainless spirit, the divine Althea came to visit him in his durance. She led away the captive into a second captivity. With her fair hair she wove fresh bonds for him ; she laid on new fetters with her eyes. But he revelled in these chains. Having freedom in his soul, angels alone that are above enjoyed such liberty. wings W HEN Love with vnconfined hovers within my gates, & my divine Althea brings loveviSts to whisper at my grates, c 2 my prison, 20 WHEN LOUE WITH VNCONFINED WINGS. I am free as a bird. 8 when I lye tangled in her heere & fettered with her eye, the burds that wanton in the ayre enioyes l such Lybertye. When I, confined, sing my king's goodness, I am free i the winds. When, Lynett like confined, I with shriller note shall sing the mercy, goodnesse, maiestye 12 & glory of my kinge, when I shall voice aloud how good he is, how great shold bee, the enlarged winds that curies the floods 2 16 enioyes such Lybertye. When I drink with boon com- panions to our cause, I am as free as a fish. When flowing cupps run swiftly round with, woe-allaying theames, our carlesse heads with roses crowned, 20 our harts with Loyall flames, when thirsty soules in wine wee steepe, when cupps and bowles goe free, ffishes that typle in the deepe 24 enioyes such Lybertye. Though in prison, yet with a pure soul and free love, I am free as an angel. Stone walls doe not a prison make, nor Iron barrs a cage, the spotlesse soule an[d] Inocent 3 28 Calls this an hermitage. 3 if I haue freedome in my loue, & in my soule am free, angells alone that sores aboue 32 enioyes such Lybertye ! ffins. Tpage 192] 1 This final s and several others have been marked through by a later hand. -F. 2 flood.— P. 3 These lines differ from the usual reading. — Skeat. 21 Clorfe* 1 Several collections of Waller's Poems appeared as early as 1645, while he was living in France. The first edition "corrected and publish'd with the approbation of the Author " came out in 1664. "When the Author of these verses," says the Printer to the Eeader in this one, " (written only to please himself and such particular persons to whom they were directed), returned from abroad some years since, He was troubled to find his name in print, but somewhat satisfied to see his lines so ill rendered, that he might justly disown them, and say to a mistaking Printer, as one did to an ill Eeciter, male dum recitas, incipis esse tuum. Having been ever since pressed to correct the many and gross faults (such as use to be in impressions wholly neglected by the authors) his answer was, That he made these when ill verses had more favour and escaped better than good ones do in this age, the severity whereof he thought not unhappily diverted by these faults in the impression, which hitherto have hung upon his Book, as the Turks hang old raggs (or such like ugly things) upon their fairest Horses, and other goodly creatures, to secure them against fascination ; and for those of a more confind understanding (who pretend not to censure) as they admire most what they least comprehend, so his Verses (mained to that degree that himself scarce knew what to make of many of them), might that way at least have a title to some Admiration, which is no small matter, if what an old Author observes be true, that the 1 An elegant old song writton by Mr. Waller. See his Poems. — P. 22 CLORIS. aim of Orators is Victory, of Historians Truth, and of Poets Admiration ; He had reason, therefore, to indulge those faults in his Book whereby It might be reconciled to some, and commended to others." But the considerations expressed in this longwinded and somewhat confusing manner, were overcome by the importunity of the worthy Printer, and the Poet at last gave leave " to assure the Eeader, that the Poems which have been so long and so ill set forth under his name, are here to be found as he first writ them, as also to add some others which have since been composed by him." The following song does not occur in this edition; nor in that of 1682, "the Fourth Edition with several Additions never before printed." It appears in that of 1711, "the eight edition, with additions," and no doubt in several of the preceding editions. The song is a fair specimen of Waller's average style. It exhibits his faults, and his merits — his affectation, and strained gallantry, with something of his elegance and grace. His life was not a noble one. He was not inspired by that spirit which enabled Lovelace to sing that Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage. He lived from 1605 to 1687, from the year of the Gunpowder Treason to the year before the Revolution. He sat in Parlia- ment, for various places, from his nineteenth year to his death, except from 1643 to the Restoration, in which period his connection with the Royalist Plot of 1643 suspended his public life. cioris, i (jLORIS, farwell ! I needs must goe ! must go, for if with thee I longer stay, thine eyes prevayle upon me soe, sight. 4 I shall grow blynd & lose my way. 1 1 Lines 2, 3, 4, are almost all eaten away by the ink of the title at the back. — F. CLORIS. 23 ffame of thy bewty & thy youth, amongst the rest me hither brought ; but finding fame fall short of truth, 8 made me 1 stay longer then I thought. Report brought me hither ; your beauty keeps me. ffor I am engaged by word [and] othe a servant to anothers will ; but for thy loue wold forfitt both, 12 were I but sure to keepe itt still. Though I am be- trothed, I'd break my troth if I could secure you ; But what assurance can I take, when thou, fore-knowing this abuse, for some [more 2 ] worthy louers sake 1 6 mayst leaue me with soe lust excuse. ffor thou wilt say it, " it was 3 not thy fault that I to thee 4 vnconstant proue, but were by mine 5 example taught 20 to breake thy othe to mend thy loue." but how could I ? You'd jilt me, and plead my example as your excuse. Noe, Cloris, Nbe ! I will returne, & rayse thy story to that height that strangers shall att distance burne, 24 & shee distrust thee 6 reprobate. No ! I'll go, and praise your beauty from afar, Then shall my loue this Doubt displace, & gaine the trust that I may come & sometimes banquett on thy face, 28 but make my constant meales att home. seeing you sometimes but loving my own love. 1 my. Qu.— P. 2 more. — P. A may that precedes for in the MS. is crossed out. — F. 3 is.— P. 4 thou to me. Qu. — P. 5 One stroke too few in the MS.— F. mee. Qu. — P. » 24 €\n kinge entopesf fits rfgi)[te agate*] 1 This song occurs in the Roxburghe Collection of Ballads, iii. 256, in the Loyal Garland containing choice Songs and Sonnets of our late Revolution (London, 1671, Eeprinted by the Percy Society), in a Collection of Loyal Songs, in Eitson's Ancient Songs. Mr. Chappell, in his Popular Music of the Olden Time, ii. 434-9, gives the air to which it was sung, along with much information concerning it (which should be read), and nine more stanzas than are included in our Folio. It was written by Martin Parker, as appears from the following extract from the Gossips' Feast or Morall Tales, 1647 : "The gossips were well pleased with the contents of this ancient ballad, and Gammer Growty-legs replied e By my faith, Martin Parker never got a fairer brat ; no, not when he penn'd that sweet ballad, When the King injoyes his own again.'' " It was an extreme favourite with the Cavaliers. Booker, Pond, Eivers, Swallow, Dove, Dade, and Hammond, were eminent astrologers and almanack-makers. See Ritson, and Chappell, ii. 437, note a . W HAT Booker can prognosticate, Who can consider [ilng now the kin^domes state ? foretell . I thinke my selfe to be as wise 4 as he that gaseth 2 on the skyes ; my skill goes beyond the depth of Pond 3 or Riuers in the greatest raine, Khi C g\vm wherby I can tell that all things will goe well own y again ? 8 when the King enioyes his rights againe. 1 An old Cavilier Song.— P. 2 gazeth.— P. 3 ponds.— P. TIIE K.INGE ENIOYES HIS RIGHTS AGAINE. 25 There is neither swallow, done nor dade, can sore more high, or deeper wade to shew a reason from the starres,' , 12 what causeth these our chiill warres. the man in the moone may weare out his shoo[ne *] in running after Charles his wayne ; but all is to noe end, for the times will not me[nd 2 ] 16 till the K.ing enioyes his right againe. No stargazer can tell what causes our civil wars. The times won't mend till the King has his own. ffull 40 yeeres his royall crowne hath beene his fathers and his owne, & is there any more nor 3 hee 20 that in the same shold sharrers 4 bee, or who better may the scepter sway then he that hath such rights to raine ? there is noe hopes of a peace, or the war to ce[ase 5 ], 24 till the Kdng enioyes his right againe. Who has better right to the crown than our King? Although for a time you see Whitehall with cobwebbs hanging on the wall insteed of silkes & siluer braue 28 wh/ch fformerly ['t] was 6 wont [to] haue, with a sweete perfume in euerye roome delightfull to that princely traine : ■which, againe shalbe when the times you see 32 that the King enioyes bis right againe. 7 ffins. [page 193] Though Whitehall is all cobwebs now, soon it will be silks and per- fumes, when the King enjoys his right again. 1 shoone. — P. 2 mend. — P. 3 than.— P. 4 sharers. — P. 5 cease. — P. 6 formerly 't was. — P. 7 This fourth stanza is put before the third in the copy that Mr. Chappell prints, ii. 438. 26 €\n 3(£cppttait (Butm* 1 This song under the title of Mark Anthony is found, minus vv. 13-20 inclusive, in Poems by J. C. 1651, the first edition of Cleveland's Poems, and in such of the many subsequent ones as we have examined, those of 1654 (B. in the notes below), of 1677 (C. in the notes), and of 1687 (D. in the notes). Our copy is probably a bad one of the verses before they were printed, when lines 13-20 were cut out. The song is marked by Cleve- land's characteristic vigour and tendency to " conceits." John Cleveland sang and suffered much in the Eoyal cause. Educated at Christ's College, elected a Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge — " To cherish such hopes," says an old biographer of him, " the Lady Margaret drew forth both her breasts " — he joined the King at Oxford when the breach with the Parliament became irreparable, and gallantly adhered to the King's fortunes to the end. After the capture of Newark, when he was Judge Advocate, he seems to have led, for some years, a life of wretched vagrancy. In 1655 he was taken prisoner. He made an appeal to Cromwell, which was heard. He did not live to see the restoration of the race which he had served with all his trenchant wit, with the truest devotion. April 29, 1659, is the date of his death. As the copy in our folio MS. is corrupt in many places, we give here the copy from the first edition of 1651, collated with the editions of 1654, 1677, and 1687. MAEK ANTHONY. WHEN as the Nightingale chanted her Vespers, And the wild Forester couch'd on the ground, Venus invited me in th' Evening whispers, 4 Unto a fragrant field with Hoses crown 'd : 1 Not an inelegant old song. Corrected by an Edition in Cleveland's Poems. 12™ 1687. p. 65.— P. THE ^EGIFTIAN QUENE. 27 Where she before had sent My wishes complement, Unto my hearts content 8 Plaid with me on the Green, Never Mark Anthony Dallied more wantonly "With the fair Egyptian Queen. 12 First on her cherry cheeks I mine eyes feasted, Then ' fear of surfeiting made me retire : Next on her warm 2 lips, which when I tasted, My duller spirits made 3 active as fire. 16 Then we began to dart Each at anothers heart, Arrows that knew no smart : Sweet lips and smiles between, 20 Never Mark, $c. Wanting a glass to plate her amber tresses, Which like a bracelet rich decked mine arm, Gawdier then Juno wears when as she graces 21 Jove with embraces more stately than warm. Then did she peep in mine Eyes humour Christalline ; I in her eyes was seen, 28 As if we one had been. Never Mark, SfC. Mystical Grammar of amorous glances, Feeling of pulses the Physick of Love, 32 Rhetorical courtings and Musical Dances ; Numbring of kisses Arithmetick prove. Eyes like Astronomy, Streight limb'd Geometry : 3G In her heart's ingeny Our wits are sharp and keen. Never Mark, $c. W HEN" as the Nightingale chanted her vesper, 4 At eve & the wyld fayryes lay coucht 5 on the ground, Venus invited me to an euening Wisper, 6 my Love n -i invited me 4 to fragrant feelds ' with roses crounde to toy with 1 Thence. — B. C. D. forresters, i.e. the deer, the Inhabitants 2 warmer. — B. CD. of the forrest. — P. 3 made me. — C. D. ' in th' evening whispers. — P, 4 her vespers. — P. ' Unto a frag 1 , field. — P. 5 forrester coucht. 28 THE iEGIPTIAN QUENE. her in the fields. We dallied like Antony and Cleo- 8 patra. I looked at her cheeks, kissed her lips, pressed her hand, twined mine in her hair, gazed in her eyes. Her tresses deckt my 12 which. l shee before had sent her cheefest complement, Vnto my 2 harts content sport 3 with me on the greene ; Neuer marke Anthony dallyed more wantonly "WVth his fayre iEgiptian queene 4 ! ffirst on her Cherry cheekes I my eyes 5 feasted ; thence feare of surffetting made me retyre, then to her warmed [lips], 6 which when I tasted, my spiritts dnld were made actiue by 7 fyer. 8 this heat againe to calme, her moyst hand yeelderd balme ; whilest wee Ioyned 9 palme to palme as if wee one had beene, Neuer marke Anthony dallyed more wantonly with his fayre Cor 10 egiptian queene ! Then in her golden heere u I my hands twined ; shee her hands in my lockes twisted againe, as if her heere had beene fetters assigned, Sweet litle Cupid 12 Loose captiue 13 to chayne ; soe did wee often dart one at anothers hart arrows that felt 14 noe smart, sweet lookes and smiles ' 5 between. Neuer, &c. 24 Wa[yting a glass to platt] those amoras tresses 16 which, like a [bracelet] deckt richly mine arme, 16 20 1 Where.— P. 'puts my wishes For her cheefest Percy F. And to my. query. — P. Play'd.— P. Only half the n in the MS.— P. mine eyes. — P. warmer lips. — P. active as. — P. N.B. from hence to [So did we often dart] is wanting in the printed Copy.— P. 9 A t is between Ioyned and palme in the MS. as if wee one had beene has been first written as a separate line, then struck out and written after palme ; then one had bee" was struck out, and copied in again by Percy. — P. 10 ? MS.— F. 11 haire. — P. 12 After the d Percy puts 's. — F. 13 After the e Percy adds s. — F. 14 fett, fetch'd. — query: it is knew no sm'. in print. — P. 15 Lipps and smiles. — P. 16 Way ting a glass to platt (plait) her amber tresses.— P. The ink of the heading The king enioyes on the back has eaten the MS. away. — F. THE jEGIPTIAN QUENE. 29 gaudyer then Iu.no was which. 1 when shee blessed 2 arm like a , bracelet ; lone with Euers races 3 more richly 4 thein warme. 28 shee sweetely peept in eyrie that was more cristalline, which, by reflection shine ech eye and eye was seene. she peept , T „ sweetly at JNeuer, &c. me, Misticall grammers 5 of 6 amorus glances, 32 feeHng of pulses, the phisicke of loue, Retoricall courtings & musicall dances, numbring of kisses arithemeticke proues 7 ; Eyes like astronomy, strayght limbes geometry, 36 in her harts enginy 8 ther eyes & eyes were seene. 9 Neue? - , &c. ffins. and in her glances I saw kisses alone. 1 Juno wears. — P. 2 presses (graces) Pr. Copy. — P. 3 So in the MS. — F. embraces. — P. 4 stately. P.C.— P. 5 grammars; grammar of: pr. Copy. — P. Note the Seven Sciences — Grammar, Physic, Ehetoric, Music, Arithmetic, Astronomy, Geometry. — Skeat. 6 are. query. — P. ' prove, p.c. — P. 8 Arts Ingeny. — P. 9 our wits were sharp and keen. Printed Copy. — P. [" The Mode of France" and " Be not affrayd" printed in Lo. and Hum. Songs, p. 45-8, follow here in the MS.'] 30 ^oltotue me ffanrpe* This song, says Percy's marginal note, is " printed in a collection of Scots Poems, Edingboro', 1713, pag. 142." Mens prcetrepidans avet vagari. Led by Fancy, it throws off for the nonce the fetters of the body, and " dances through the welkin." It inspects the phenomena of cloudland, rejoices rerum cognoscere causas. Then, turning its gaze downwards, it studies that great ant-hill the earth. It sees mankind rushing to and fro upon it, with all their various pursuits, humours, passions. At last the much-travelled spirit wearies. Its wings droop, and it implores its ever-vigorous guide to lead it no further. The great world-prospect, with its tumult and turmoil, is too tremendous a vision. So the spirit hies it back to its home, the body. Melancholy, I dance like an elf over moun- tains, plains, and woods. IN: a Melancliolly fancy, out of my selfe, tliorrow the welkin dance I, all the world snrvayinge, noe where stayinge ; like vnto the fiery e elfe, 1 over the topps of hyest mountaines skipping, oner the plaines, the woods, the valleys, tripping, 2 oner the seas without oare of 3 shipping, hollow, me fancy ! wither wilt thon goe ? 1 fairy elfe. — P. Only half the n in the MS.— F. 3 oaro or. — P. IIOLLOWE ME FANCYE. 31 Amydst the cloudy vapors, faine wold I see I'd like to , n . ' see what the what are those burning tapors stars and 7-ii • ro ■ meteors are ; wAich benight vs and affright vs, 12 & what the Meetors l bee. ffaine wold I know what is the roaring thunder, [ pa g e 195] & the bright Lightnine: which, cleeues the clouds in what the o o o thunder, Sunder, lightning, & what the cometts are att w7«ch men gaze & wonder, and comets. 16 Hollow, me &c. Looke but downe below me where you may be bold, where none can see or know mee ; all the world of gadding, running of madding, 20 none can their stations hold : One, he sitts drooping all in a dumpish passion ; another, he is for Mirth and recreation ; the 3?, he hangs his head because hees out of fassion. 24 Hollow, &c. See, See, See, what a bustling ! Now I descry one another Iustlynge ! how they are turmoyling, one another foyling, 28 & how I past them bye ! hee thats aboue, him thats below 2 despiseth ; hee thats below, doth enuye him 2 that ryseth ; euerye man his plot & counter 2 plott deviseth. 32 Hollow. Shipps, Shipps, Shipps, I descry now ! crossing the maine He goe too, and try now what they are proiecting & protecting ; 36 & when the turne againe. One, hees to keepe his country from inuadinge ; another, he is for Merchandise & tradince : the other Lyes att home like summers cattle shackling/ 40 Hollow. I'd like to look down on the bust- ling world, and see one man in the dumps, another all mirth : others jost- ling their fellows, high de- spising low, low envying high; shipmen projecting defence from foes or gain in trade. 1 meteors.— P. 2 MS. blotted.— F. 3 ? getting into a shed or the shade.— F 32 HOLLOWE ME FANCYE. I can't go on. Fancy, come back to me ; leave off soaring, and keep to your book. Hollow, me fancy, hollow ! I pray thee come vnto mee, I can noe longer follow ! I pray thee come & try [me] ; doe not flye me ! 44 Sithe itt will noe better bee, come, come away ! Leave of thy Lofty soringe ! come stay att home, & on this booke be poring ! for he that gads abroad, he bath the lesse in storinge. 45 welcome, my fancye ! welcome home to mee ! ffins. 33 j^efoarfee* 1 This song may very well have been written, as Percy suggests, by Cleveland to cheer the garrison of Newark ; when, during the Eoyalist occupation of it, he was Judge Advocate. See Introduction to " Egyptian Queen." " In the reign of Charles I. Newark was garrisoned for the King, and held in subjection the whole of this country, excepting the town of Nottingham ; and a great part of Lincolnshire was laid under contribution ; here that unfortunate sovereign estab- lished a mint. . . . During this contest the town sustained three sieges : in the first, all Northgate was burnt by order of the governor, Sir John Henderson ; in the second, when under the government of Sir John, afterwards Lord, Byron, the town was relieved by the arrival from Chester of Prince Eupert, who, according to Clarendon, in an action between his forces and the parliamentarians under Sir John Mel drum, on Beacon Hill, half a mile eastward of the town, took four thousand prisoners and thirteen pieces of artillery; in the third siege, after the display of much prowess and several vigorous sallies, the fortress remained unimpaired ; afterwards Lord Bellasis, then governor, surrendered the town to the Scottish army, by the King's order, on the 8th of May, 1646. At the close of this siege, the works and circumvallations were demolished by the country people, with the exception of two considerable earth-works, which are now nearly perfect, and are called the King's Sconce and the Queen's Sconce ; about this time the castle also was destroyed." (Lewis' Topogr. Diet, of England.) 1 Very probably writ by Jack Cleve- Trent ; to Chear the Garrison : where he land during the siege of Newark upon was judge advocate. — P. VOL. II. D 34 NEWAKKE. Fill us a cup! Here's a health to King Charles. We dread not our foes. UUR : braines are asleepe, then fyll vs l a cupp of cappering sacke & clarett ; here is a health to Kmj/ Charles ! then drinke it all vp, his cause will fare better for itt. did not an ould arke saue noye 2 in a fflood ? why may not a new arke to vs be vs 3 good ? wee dread not their forces, they are all made of wood, then wheele & turne about againe. If Leslie gets hold of 'em he'll play the devil and all. Though all beyond trent be sold to the Scott, to men of a new protestation if San dye come there, twill fall to their Lott 12 to haue a new signed possession ; but if once Lesly gett [them] in his power, gods Leard ! heele play the devill & all ! but let him take heed how hee comes there, 16 lest Sweetelipps ring him a peale in his eare. Drink to our garrison. I fear no foe, for our Maurice is coming. Then tosse itt vp merrilye, fill to the brim ! wee haue a new health to remember ; heeres a health to our garrisons ! drinke it to them, 20 theyle keepe vs all warme in December. I care not a figg what enemy comes ; for wee doe account them but hop-of-my-thumbes for Morrise 4 our prince is coming amaine 24 to rowte & make them run againe. ffins. 1 MS. vis or vus. — F. 2 Old Ark— Noe.— P. 3 as.— F. 4 Maurice.— P. 35 gmongsst tt)t mtrtlesu 1 The first collection of Carew's poems was made in 1640, the year after his death. But many of them had been set to music during his life ; others no doubt had circulated in MS. " He was a person," says Clarendon, " of a pleasant and facetious wit, and made many poems (especially in the amorous way), which for the sharpness of the fancy and the elegance of the language in which that fancy was spread, were at least equal, if not superior to any of that time : but his glory was that after fifty years of his life spent with less severity or exactness than it ought to have been, he died with great remorse for that license, and with the greatest manifestation of Christianity, that his best friends could desire." AMongst the Mirtles as I walket, loue & my thoughts sights this 2 inter-talket : " tell me," said I in deepe distresse, Where can I _ __ find my 4 " Where may I mid [_my sneperdesse. d J shepherdess? " Thou foole ! " said lone, " knowes thou not this ? [page 196] in euerye thing thats good shee is. She's in ail that's good, in yonder tuiepe goe & seeke, her hue in 8 there thou may find her lipp, her cheeke ; the tulip, " In yonder enameled Pancye, her eye in there thou shalt haue her curyous eye ; in bloome of peach & rosee 4 budd, 12 there wane the streamers of her blood ; 1 A very elegant old song. Writ by omission by Percy. — F. Mr. Thomas Carew. See his poems, b°. 3 The MS. is cut away. — F. L. 1640. — P. 4 rosee. — P. 2 thus. — P. ; and sights marked for 1)2 36 AMONGST THE MI11TLES. her hand in the lily, the scent of her bosom on the hills. "In 1 brightest Lyllyes that lieere stand, the 2 emhlemes of her whiter hands ; in yonder rising hill, their smells 3 16 such sweet as in her bosome dwells." I went to pluck these flowers, but all vanished. So shall pass my joy ! " It is trew," said I ; & therevpon I went to plucke them one by one to make of parts a vnyon ; 20 butt on a sudden all was gone. Wy'th that I stopt, sayd, " loue, 4 these bee, fond man, resemblance-is of thee 5 ; & as these flowers, thy Ioyes shall dye 24 Euen in the twinkhng of an eye, " And all thy hopes of her shall wither Like these short sweetes soe knitt together." ffi[ns.] 1 The.— P. 2 are. — P. 3 there smells. — P. 4 stop'd. S• • -it -i , , i ofLunsford's r yding m a blew rockett, 1 sayes, " Colbronde Lunsford comes, I saw, 8 with, a childs arme hang in his pockett." 1 A.-S. roc, clothing, an outer garment, Fulle wel [y-] clothed was Fraunchise, a coat, jacket, vest : Bosworth, Germ. For ther is no cloth sittith bet rock, a coat. Chaucer describes dame On damyselle, than doth rocket. Fraunchise in a rocket, see Fairholt's A womman wel more fetys is Glossary THE TRIBE OF BANBURYE. 41 12 Then wee called up our men of warr, younge Viuers, Cooke & Denys, 1 whome our Lord Sea 2 placed vnder his Sonne Master ffyenys. 3 and called out our men of war, When hee came neere, he sent vs word that hee was coming downe, & wold, vnles wee lett him in, 16 Granado 4 all our towne. butLunsford said he'd grenado our town, Then was our Colhr oncle — fines, 5 — & me, in a most woefull case ; for neither he nor I did know 20 who this granado was. 24 wee had 8 gunnes called ordinance, 6 & foure score Musquetiers, 7 yett all this wold not serue to stop those Philistime cauileeres. and our guns and men [page 197] couldn't stop him. Good people, the did send in men from Dorchester & Wickam ; but wher this Gyant did them see, 28 good hord, how he did kick han 8 ! In rokct than in cote, ywis. The whyte roket rydled faire, &c. Romaunt of the Rose, 1. 1238-43, Poet. Works, ed. Morris, vi. 38. " Rocket, a surplys : " Palsgrave. "Skeltcn describes Elinor Eumming the Alewife in a gray russet rocket. Rocket, a cloak without a cope: Ranclle Holme ; " in Pairholt. Rocket, a frocke ; loose gaberdine, or gowne of canuas or course linnen, worne by a labourer over the rest of his clothes ; also, a Prelates Rocket : Cotgrave. See the woodcut in Fairholt, p. 220. — F. 1 There is a dot over tho stroke follow- ing the e in the MS.— F. 2 Say.— P. 3 Fiennes. — P. 4 Fr. Grenade. A Pomegranet ; also, a ball of wild-fire, made like a Pome- granet: Cotgrave. An iron case filled with powder and bits of iron, like the seeds in a pomegranate: Wedgwood. — F. 5 Fiennes. — P. 6 Ordinance, all sorts of Artillery, or great Guns us'd in War. Phillips. — F. 7 Musquetiers. — P. The last e is niado over a y in the MS. — F. 8 kick 'cm. — P. 42 THE TRIBE OF BANBURYE. He swore and threat- ened us so 32 " You round heads, rebells, rougs, 1 " quoth, hee, " He crop & slitt eche eare, & leaue you neither arme nor lege much longer then jour heere 2 ! that we opened our gates, Then wee sett ope our gates 3 full wyde ; they swarmed in like bees, & they were all arraydd in buffe 36 thicker then our towne cheese. 4 and his blood- thirsty men Now god deliuer vs, we pray, from such blood-thirstye men, forom 5 Leuyathan Lunsford 40 who eateth our children ! hung us and plundered 44 ffor Banburye, the tinkers crye, you hanged vs vp by twelues ; now since Lunsford hath plundred you, you may goe hang yo^r selues. ffins. 1 rogiies. — if. 2 haire. N.B. The Roundheads were so called from wearing their hair cropt short. — P. 3 gater in the MS.— F. 4 Banbury Cheese. — P. this.— P. [ u Doe you meane to overtlirowe me," and "A Maid 8f a Young e Man," printed in Lo. and Hum. Songs, p. 49-52, follow here in the MS.] 43 $p : me : %y me : The Editors have not found any printed copy of this song. Mr. Chappell informs them that there is a tune in the Dancing Master of 1657 entitled "Ay me, or the Symphony," but it requires words of a different metre to that of this song. " A fling at the Scots, probably writ in James I. time " is Percy's MS. note ; or, as Mr. Halliwell says of Joky ivill prove a gentillman, 1 a " satire . . doubtlessly levelled against the numerous train of Scotch adventurers who wisely emigrated to England in the time of James I., in the full expectation of being distinguished by the particular favour and patronage of their native sovereign." Poor Sisly, the chief speaker in the piece, laments the dropping off of her suitors. She once had twelve, and now she has but one. The first was handsome ; the ten following were all well-to-do in the world in one way or another ; the one that yet remains has no merit of either sort. The others were Welsh, Dutch, French, or Spanish ; this one is a sorry Scotchman. A doleful state of things ; but the best must be made of it. At any rate, as this last lingering wooer is a beggar, he can never be declared bankrupt. But indeed begging- is the way to wealth now-a-days — begging for appointments, &c. In Joky ivill prove such begging is introduced as the cause of the marvellous change of the hero's cowhide shoes into Spanish- leather ones decked with roses, of his twelvepenny stockings into " silken blewe," of his list garters into silk tasselled with gold and silver, &c. 1 Reprinted from The Archaologist in Satirical Songs (Percy Society), p. 127. 44 AY ME: AY ME. Thy hose and thy dublett, which were full plaine, Whereof great store of lice [did] containe, Is turned nowe. Well fare thy braine That can by bcgginge this maintayne! By my fay, and by Saint Ann, Joky will prove a gentilman ! Moved by this disinterested consideration — that begging is the winning game — Sisly resolves to give the constant Scot the right to beg for her as well as himself. Oh clear I I had twelve suitors, and all are gone but one, the worst of all, a regular weed. The rest were good, this one's naught, 12 16 20 " AY : me, ay me, pore sisley, & vndone ' ! I had 12 sutors, now I have but one ! they all were wealthy ; had I beene but wise ; now haue all left me since I haue beene soe nice, 2 but only one, and him all Maidens scorne, for hees the worst I thinke that ere was borne." " peace good sisley ! peace & say noe more ! bad mends in time ; good salue heales many a sore." " ffaith such a one as I cold none but loue, 3 for 4 few or none of them doe constant proue ; a man in shape, proportion, looke, and showe, much like a Mushroome in one night doth grow ; proud as a lay t hats of a comely hew, cladd like a Musele in a capp of blew. 5 " " peace, good sisley ! peace, & say noe more ! be Merry, wench, & lett the welkin rore ! " " The first I had was framed in bewtyes mold, the second : 3 d . and 4* had store of gold, the 5. 6. 7. 8"? had trades eche one, the best had goods & lands to hue vpon ; Now may I weepe, sigh, sobb, & ring my hands, since this hath neither witt, trade, v goods, nor Land[s.] " 1 I'm vndone. — P. 2 Particular ; not Fr. niais, a simple, witlesse, vnexperienced gull. Nice, dull, simple : Cotgrave. — F. 3 As none but I could love. — P. 4 But.— P. 5 The Scotch cap. See Slew-cap for me in Sat. Songs, p. 130, &c. — F. AY ME : AY ME. 45 24 " peace, good sisley ; peace & take that one that stayes behind when all the rest are gone ! " He [is,] as ' turkes doe say, noe renegatoe, 2 noe Portugall, Gallowne, or reform ato 3 ; but in playne termes some say he is a scott, 28 that by his witts some old cast suite hath gott, & now is as 4 briske 5 as my 6 Bristow Taylor, & swaggers like a pander or a saylor. 7 " " kisse him, sisley, kisse him, he may prone the best, 32 & vse him kindly, but witt bee all the rest." a Scot, in a cast-off suite. " One was a welchman, her wold 8 scorne to crye ; & 3 were Dutchmen that sill 9 drunke wold bee ; & 6 were frenchemen that were pockye proude ; 36 & one a spanyard that cold bragg alowd. Now all are gone, & way 10 not me a figge, but one poore Scott who can doe nought but begg." " take him, sisley ! take him, for itt is noe doubt, 40 his trades that beggs, heele neuer proofe 1 1 banquerout.' ' My other suitors were Welch, Dutch, &c. This one is a poor begging Scot. " Nay, sure, He haue him, for all people say that men by begging grow rich now a day, & that oftentimes is gotten with a word 44 att great mens hands that neuer was woone by sword, then welcome Scotchman, wee will weded bee, & one day thou shalt begg for thee and mee." " well sayd, sisley ! well said ! on another day, 48 by begging thou maist weare a garland gay ! " But I'll take him ; begging's a good trade now ; and he'll beg for us both. 1 He is, as, &e. — P. 2 renegado. — P. 3 reformado. — P. Sp. reformddo, re- formed. Minsheu. Reformado, orReformed Officer, an Officer whose Company or Troop is disbanded, and yet be continu'd in whole or half Pay ; still being in the way of Preferment, and keeping his Eight of Seniority : Also a Gentleman who serves as a Volunteer in a Man of War, in Order to learn Experience, and succeed the Principal Officers. Phillips. — F. 4 It may be al in the MS.— F. 5 And now's as brisk. — P. 6 any. — P. 7 ? MS. Jaylor.— F. 8 hur wold, &c. — P. 9 still.— P. 10 weigh. — P. 11 The Man that begs will ne'er prove. 46 flame : inoltre : $ rfiancje: [page 190] This is the song of one who entertains a supreme horror of living and dying an old maid. She has been told by old wives, no doubt well informed on the subject, that those who do so are employed subsequently in " leading apes in hell ; " ' after which singular occupation she feels no great hankering. "To the church," then, is the word. Ding-dong away, Marriage bells. I want to change my maiden life, r AINE wold I change my maiden liffe to tast of loues true loyes." " What ? liffe ! woldest 2 thou chuse to bee a wiffe ? maids wishes are but toyes." " how can there bee a greater hell then Hue a maid soe long, 3 a mayd soe long ? to the church ring out the Marriage bells, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong !" for I'm nearly six- teen, 12 " Beffore thai 15 yeeres were spent, I knew, & haue a Sonne." " how old art thou ? " " sixteene next Lent." " alas, wee are both vndoue ! " how can there bee &c. 1 Mr. Dyce says : " The only instances of the expression leading apes in (or into) hell, which at present occur to me, are these : — " ' — and he that is less than a man, I am not for him : therefore I will even take sixpence in earnest of the bear- ward, and lead his apes into hell.' — Shakespeare's Much ado about Nothing, act ii. sc. 1. " ' — but keeping my maidenhead till it was stale, I am condemned to lead apes in hell! — Shirley's Love-Tricks, act iii. sc. 6 ; Works, vol. i. p. 53, ed. G-ifford and Dyce. " This phrase, which is still in common use, never has been (and never will be) satisfactorily explained. Steevens sug- gests, ' That women who refused to bear children, should, after death, be con- demned to the care of apes in leading- strings, might have been considered as an act of posthumous retribution.' " — F. 2 why would'st. — P. 3 ? MS.— F. so long.— P. FAINE WOLDE I CHANGE. 47 "Besides, I heard an old wiffe tell that all true maids must dye." and true 16 " what must they doe ? " "lead apes in hell ! andieadapes a dolefull destiny e." in hell. " & wee will lead noe apes in hell ; ! ^on'tdo r ' that, 1 weele change our maiden song, our maiden song ; 20 to the church ring out the Marriage bells, t^chlirch* wee haue liued true mayds to 2 longe." ffins. 1 "Weele change" is in the 18th line in the MS.— F. 2 too.— P. 48 This song occurs, as Mr. Chappell remarks, in the Golden Garland of Princely Delight, 3rd edition, 1620. Mr. Chappell adds a fourth stanza from later copies, " such as Wits Interpreter, third edition, 8vo. 1671 :" If I have wronged you, tell me wherein, And I will soon amend it ; In recompense of such a sin, Here is my heart, I'll send it. If that will not your mercy move, Then for my life I care not ; Then, then, torment me still, And take my life and spare not. He gives the tune to which the song was sung, composed by Thomas Ford (one of the musicians in the suite of Prince Henry, the eldest son of James I.), who published it in his Musick of Sundrie Kindes, in 1607. at erst sight, " HEN" ffirst I saw her face, I resolued ' to honor & renowne thee ; but if I be disdayned, I wishe 4 that I had neuer knowne thee. me love ; ade I asked leaue ; you bade me lone ; is itt now time to chyde mee ? : no : no : no ! I loue you still, what fortune euer betyde mee ! 8 If I admire or praise you too much, tltat fortune [you] might 2 forgiue mee ; or that my hand hath straid but to touch, 3 thenn might you iustly leaue mee, 1 thee I resolv'd.— P. 2 that fault you might.— P. 3 MS. teach.— F. to touch.— P. WHKN K I K.ST I SAWE. 49 12 but I that liked, & you that loued, is now a time to wrangle ? O no : no : no, my hart is ffixt, & will not new w m y entangle. The sun, whose beames most glorious are, 16 rejecteth x noe beholder ; yottr faire face, past all compare, makes my faint hart the bolder, when bewtye likes, & witt delights, 20 & showes of Loue doe bind mee ; there, there ! there ! whersoeuer I goe, He leaue my hart behind mee ! 1 MS. & reacheth.— F. ffins. ou now quarrel with me ? Your beauty has stolen my heart. [" A Creature for Feature,'''' and "Lye alone," printed in Lo. and Hum. Songs, p. 53-56, follow here in the MS.~\ VOL. II. 50 $?oto fapre stint lie* 1 This well-known song by George Wither (1590-1667) appeared in 1619, appended to his Fidelia, and again in Juvenilia, in 1633, in " Fair Virtue the Mistress of Philarete." It was reprinted again and again, sometimes with another stanza. The version here given is slightly corrupt. " A copy of this song," says Mr. Chappell, "is in the Pepys collection, i. 230, entitled A new song of a young man's opinion of the difference between good and bad women. To a pleasant new tune. It is also in the second part of the Golden Garland of Princely Delights, third edition 1620, entitled The Shepherd's Resolution. To the tune of The Young Man's Opinion." care for me ? Not I shall i kill DHALL : I, wasting in dispayre, dye because a woman s fayre ? or make pale my cheekes with care 2 lo^dKt 4 because anotkers rose-yee 3 are ? Be skee fairer then the day or the flowry Meads in may, if skee tkinke not well of mee, 8 Wkat care I kow fayre skee bee ? Skall my foolisk kart be pind because I see a woman kind, or a well disposed nature 12 with 4 a comlye feature ? 1 An elegant old Song by Withers. omission of St, 2flr/c 304. But (printed Copy). — P. the Printed Copy wants the 2'. 1 stanza: — • s rosie are. P. it containing only three. It is also in * matched or joined.— P. Dryden's Misc. V. 6. p. 335, with the HOW FAYRE SHEE BE. Be shee Meeker, kinder, then the turtledoue or Pelican, if shee be not soe to me, 16 what care I how kind shee bee ? 51 If she's not kind to me, let her go. Shall a womans vertnes 1 moue me to perish for her lone, or her worthy merritts knowne 20 make me quite forgett mine owne ? were shee with that goodness blest, as may meritt name of best, if shee be not soe to me, 24 what care I how good shee bee ? Shall I perish for her love ? Not I. 2 Be shee good or kind or fayre, I will neuer more disp[air ;] if shee loue me, this beleeue, 28 I will dye ere shee shall g[reiue ;] if shee slight me when I woe, I will scorne & lett her goe. or if shee be not 3 for mee, 32 what care I 4 for whom shee bee ? If she slight me, let her go. What care I? 1 goodness (printed Copy). — P. 2 The following four lines are written in two in the MS.— F. 3 Percy inserts J?*!. — F. 4 A wliom struck out follows / in the MS.— F. [" Downe sate the Shepard" and " Men that more," printed in Lo. and Hum. Songs, p. 57-60, follow here in the 3//S'.] e 2 52 Come : €onu : Come t 1 cw^] This is, says Percy in his marginal note in the Folio, " A curious old drinking song, supposed to be sung by an old gouty Baccha- nal." Not content with fellow mortal topers, the old roisterer calls on all the Gods to join him in his carouse. Not his the Lotus-eater's conception of the Deities. He does not think that " careless of mankind they lie beside their nectar . . where they smile in secret, looking over wasted lands," smile at the music centred in the doleful song of lamentation, the ancient tale of wrong, from the " ill-used race of men that cleave the soil." He sees them madding their brains for "a little care of the world's affair," " utterly consumed with sharp distress " at the world's misery ; and he calls on them to be such fools no longer — to " let mortals do as well as they may " — while they, the (rods, take up their wine and drink with him. Mars, Momus, Mercury, Apollo, Vulcan, the great Jove himself, dread Juno, and Venus, Goddess of Love— none are excused — all must join ; the grape is sweet, and wine for them as well as men : let all quaff, and sing fa la la ! — F. Let's be joiiy! vOME: Come, come ! shall wee Masque or mum? by ray holly day, 2 what a coyle is heere ! some must 3 sway, & some ohay I, 4 or else, I pray, who stands in feare ? Though though 4 my toe, thai I limpe on soe, 5 we have the gout, doe cause my woe & wellaway, wine'n make yett .this sweet spring & another thing 8 will make you sing fa.la.la.la.la. 1 A curious old drinking song, sup- 3 mist in the MS. — F. posed to be sung by an old gouty Bac- '' what tho'. — P. chanal.— P. s sc. with the Gout. — P. 2 Dame.— P. COME : COME : COME. 53 ffellow gods, will you fall att odds ? what a fury madds jour morttall l braines ! for a litle care of the worlds affare, 12 will you frett, will you square, 2 will you vexe, will you vai[r ?] 3 No, gods ! no ! let fury go, 4 & Morttalls doe as well as they may ! for this sweet &c. Don't bother about business. 16 God of Moes, 5 with thy toting Nose, with thy mouth that growes to thy Lolling eare, stretch thy mouth from North to south, & quench thy drought 6 in vinigar ! 20 though thy toung be too Large & too Longe to sing this song of fa la la la la, Ioyne Momus grace to vulcans pace, & with, a filthy face crye " waw waw waw ! " Momus, drink vinegar ! Sing with us somehow ! 24 Brother Mine, thou 7 art god of wine ! will you tast of the wine 8 to the companye ? 'King of quafie, carrouse & doffe jour Liquor of, and follow mee ! 28 9 Sweete soyle of Esus He, wherin this coyse 10 was euery day, for this sweet &c. Bacchus, join me in a bowl ! Mercurye, thou Olimpian spye ! 32 wilt thou wash thine eye in this fontaine cleere ? when * l you goe to the world below, you shall light of noe such Liquor there, Mercury, drink ! 1 immortal, qu. — P. 2 i. e. quarrel. — P. 3 will you vex your vaines. — P. Vair for veer, turn. It should rhyme with square. — Chappell. 4 ? MS. gott, with 1 1 blotched out.— F. 5 Mows, i.e. Mockery. Sc. Momus. — P. 6 drowth. — P. 7 that.— P. 8 vine. — P. 9 To the.— P. 10 ? MS. coyle.— F. ? coyse, body — Halliwell. 11 whene'er. — P. 54 COME : COME : COME. Wine'll wing your heart. Mars, stop strife, and drink. though l you were a winged stare 36 & flyeth 2 farr as shineth day ; yett heeres a thing jouv hart will wing, & make you sing &c. You that are the god of warr, 40 a cruell starr peraerse & froward, Mars ! prepare thy warlicke speare, & targett ! heers a combatt towards ! 3 then fox 4 me, & lie fox thee ; 44 then lets agree, & end this fray, since this sweet &c. Venus, you drink tool Venus queene, for bewtye seene, in youth soe greene, & loued soe young, 48 thou that art mine owne sweet hart, shalt haue a part in Cuppe [&] songe 5 ; though my foot be wrong, my swords full long & hart full strong; cast care away, 52 Since this sweet &c. Apollo, here's wine for you 1 It will refine your music. Great Appollo, crowned with yellow, 6 Cynthius, fellow 7 -muses deere ! heere is wine, itt must be thine, 56 itt will refine thy Musicke cleere ; to the wire of this sweet lire you must aspire another day, for this sweet &c. Juno, 60 Iuno clere, & mother dere, you come in the rere of a bowsing feast ; 1 Altho', or even tho', or perhaps What tho' you are a winged star And fly as far. — P. 2 and flew as, as, That flyeth. — P. 3 Do thou fox me. — P. 4 a toping Word. — P. Fox, to make tipsy. A cant term. See Hobson's Jests, 1607, repr. p. 33. Halliwell. — F. 5 Cup & song. — P. 6 Cloath'd in yellow.— P. 7 Cease to follow, or Quit thy fellow, or With thy fellow. — P. Apollo was surnamed Cynthius, and Diana Cynthia, as they were born on Mount Cynthus, which was sacred to them. Lempriere. — F. COME : COME : COME. 55 thus I meet, yowr grace to greet ; the grape is sweet & the last is best. 64 now let fall your angry brawlee l leave your anger, from im>Hortall & wayghtye sway ; tis a gracious thing to please your JLing, . drink and & hear e you sing &c. sing! 68 Awfull sire, & king of fire ! Jove > let wine aspire to thy mighty throne, ancHoin our & in this quire of voices clere song ! Come thou, & beare an imorttall drame 2 ; [page 203] 72 for fury ends, & grace d[e] sends With Stygian feinds to dwell for aye. lett Nectur spring & thunder ring when Ioue 3 doth sing &c. &c. 76 Vulcan, Momus, hermes, Bacchus, Vuicanand Mars & Venus, 2 and tooe, Phebus brightest, Iuno rightest, & the mightyest of the crew, 80 Ioue, and all the heauens great 4 hall, keepe festiuall & holy-day ! rejoice since this sweete spring with her blacke thing wine. will make you sing fa la la la. ffins. 1 brawle. — P. 3 Jove. — P. MS. Iohue, with perhaps 2 drone, i. e. bass. — P. the h marked out. — F. 4 full here, struck out. — P. 56 €!)£ cr ; And alle hadde .oo. seruyse, For no pryde scholde aryse For any degree of syttynge Ober for any seruynge. — F. But I shall leave Arthur, and tell you about Sir Bred- beddle. 1 MS. &.— F. 2 pitched, or put. — P. 3 and went. — P. 4 mell, meddle, fr. meler. Urry. — P. 5 I tell.— P. 6 See line 515. — F. 7 hight, was called. — P. The earlier romance makes the knight's name "Bern- <>0 THE GI1ENE KNIGHT. He loved his wife dearlj', but she loved Sir Gawaine. he had a lady to his l wiffe, 44 he loued her deerlye as his liffe, shee was both blyth and blee 2 ; because Sir Gawaine was stiffe in stowre, shee loued him priuilye paramour, 3 48 & 4 shee neuer him see. Her mother Agostes dealt in witchcraft, itt was Agostes that was her mother ; itt was witchcraft & noe other that shee dealt with all : could trans- form men, and told Bredbeddle to go, trans- formed, 52 56 shee cold transpose knights & swaine like as in battaile they were slaine, wounded 5 both Lim & lightt, 6 shee taught her sonne the "knight alsoe in transposed likenesse he shold goe 7 both by fell and frythe ; to Arthur's court to see adventures. This was in order to get Gawaine shee said, " thou shalt to Arthurs hall ; for there great aduentures shall befall 60 That euer saw ~King or "Knight" all was for her daughters sake, that which she 8 soe sadlye spake to her sonne-in-law the Knight, 64 because Sir Gawaine was bold and harclye, [page 204] lak de Hautdesert" (p. 78, 1. 2445); it does not make his wife fall in love with Gawain, hut Bernlak sends her to tempt him (p. 75, 1. 2362). Gawain comes out of the temptation as one of the most faultless men that ever walked on foot, and as much above other knights as a pearl is above white pese (1. 2364). The enchantress is Morgne la Faye, Arthur's half-sister and Gawaine's aunt ; and she sends Bernlak to Arthur's court in the hope that his talking with his head in hand would bereave all Arthur's knights of their wits, and grieve Guinevere, and make her die (p. 78, 1. 2460). The de- scription of Morgne la Faye (p. 30-1) is very good, with her rough yellow wrinkled cheeks, her covered neck, her black chin muffled up with white vails, her fore- head enfolded in silk, showing only her black brows, eyes, nose, and lips " sowe to se and sellyly blered." — F. 1 MS. wis.— F. - so bright of blee, blee is colour, complexion, bleo S. Color. Urry. — P. 3 I w? read par amour. — P. 4 and yet. — P. 5 and wound. — P. 6 ly the, a joint, a limb, a nerve, Sax. li*, artus. Urry. — P. 7 to go.— P. 8 MS. that theye which.— F. THE GKENE KNIGHT. 61 & therto full of curtesye, 1 to bring him into her sight. brought to her daugh- ter. the knight said " soe mote I thee, 68 to Arthurs court will I mee hye for to praise thee right, & to proue Gawaines points 3 ; & that be true that men tell me, 72 by Mary Most of Might." Bredbeddle agrees to go, and prove whether Gawaine is so good. 76 earlye, soone as itt was day, the K^night dressed him full gay, vmstrode 2 a full good steede ; helme and hawberke both he hent, a long fauchion verament to fend them in his neede. Bredbeddle starts next day on horse- back. that 3 was a lolly sight to seene, 80 when horsse and armour was all greene, & weapon that hee bare, when that burne was harnisht still, his countenance he became right well, 84 I dare itt safely e sweare. lie was a goodly sight, in his green armour, and on his green horse. 88 that time att Carleile lay our K.ing ; att a Castle of flatting was his dwelling, in the fforrest of delamore. 4 for sooth he 5 rode, the sooth to say, to Carleile 6 he came on Christmas day, into that fayre countrye. 7 Arthur is at Carlisle, at Castle Flatting, in Delamere Forest. Bredbeddle arrives on Christmas day. 1 : ' bat fyne fader of nurture " the old romance calls him, p. 29, 1. 919. — F. 2 and strode, i. e. bestrode. — P. um = round. See the elaborate description of the knight, his armour and horse, in the old romance, p. 5-6, 1. 151-202.— F. Yt, i. e. it.— P. Delamere. — P. In Cheshire. — II. for soe hee. — P. Camylot, in the old romance. — F. countrye, faire. — P. 62 THE GKENE KNIGHT. The porter asks him where he's going to. "To see King Arthur and his lords." The porter tells Arthur when he into that place came, 1 92 the portei* thought him a Marnelons groome he saith, " Sir, wither wold yee ? " hee said, " I am a venterous K.night, & of yo«r King wold haue sight, 96 & other Lonfe that heere bee." noe word to him the porter spake, hut left him standing att the gate, & went forth, as I weene, 1 00 & kneeled downe before the K.ing ; saith, "in lifes dayes old or younge, such a sight I haue not seene ! of the Green Knight's arrival, and the king orders him to be let in. " for yonder att yo«r gates right ; " 104 he saith, " hee is 2 a venterous ~K.night ; all his vesture is greene." then spake the Kmg proudest in all, 3 saith, " bring him into the hall ; 108 let vs see what hee doth meane." Bredbeddle conies, wishes Arthur God speed, 112 when the greene ~Knight came before the Kmg, he stood in his stirrops strechinge, & spoke with voice cleere, & saith, " K.ing Arthur, god saue thee as thou sittest in thy prosperitye, & Maintaine thine honor 4 ! and says he has come to challenge his lords to a trial of manhood. " why 5 thou wold me nothing but right ; 116 I am come hither a venterous [Knight, 6 ] & kayred 7 thoi'row countrye farr, 8 to proue poynts in thy pallace that longeth to manhood in euerye case 120 among thy Lorcfs cleere." 1 come or was come. — P. - there is. — P. 3 first or foremost of all. — P. 4 honnere. — P. 8 for why, because. — F. 6 Knight.— P. 7 have gone ; A.-S. cerran, cirran, to turn, pass over or by. — P. 8 farre, or perhaps faire. — P. THE GKENE KNIGHT. 63 consents to let him try on foot, or horse- back. the King, lie sayd l full still 2 Arthur till he had said all his will ; certein thus can 3 he say : 124 " as I am true knight and King, thou shalt haue thy askinge ! I will not say thy nay, 4 " whether thou wilt 5 on foote fighting, 128 or on steed backe G iusting for loue of Ladyes gay. If & thine armor be not fine, I will giue thee part of mine." 132 " god amercy, Lord ! " can he say, " here I make a challenging among the Lords both old and younge that worthy beene in weede, 136 w7m'c1i of them will take in hand 7 — hee that is both stiffe and stronge and full good att need — " I shall lay my head downe, [page 205] 140 strike itt of if he can 8 with a stroke to garr 9 itt bleed, for this day 12 monthe another at his : let me see who will answer this, 144 a knight 10 that is doughtye of deed; " for this day 12 month, the sooth to say, let him come to me & seicth his praye ; rudlye, 11 or euer hee blin, 12 Bredbeddle challenges Arthur's lords : he'll let any one cut his head off, for a return cut at his executioner's head a year hence 1 satt,— P. 2 quietly.— P. 3 certes then 'gan. — P. 4 say thee nay. — P. \>y is the abla- tive of the A.-Sax. demonstrative pro- noun, se, seo, \(Bt. — F. 5 wilt be. — P. wilt = wishest, pre- ferest. — H. 6 on steed-back, i.e. on horse-back. —P. 7 hond.— P. 8 con. — P. a gar, cause. — P. >° perhaps To a k*. —P. 11 redlye, i.e. readily. Vid. G.D.— P. 12 blin, linger, delay. — P. 64 THE GKENE KMGHT. at the Greene Chappell. 148 whither to come, I shall liira tell, the readie way to the greene chappell, that place I will be in." Kay the Kmg att ease sate full still, 152 & all his lords said but litle * till he had said all his will, vpp stood Sir Kay that crabbed kmght, spake mightye words that were of height, 156 that were both Loud and shrill ; accepts the challenge. The other knights tell Kay to be quiet ; he's always getting into a mess. 160 " I shall strike his necke in tooe, the head away the body froe." the bade him all be still, saith, 2 " Kay, of thy dints make noe rouse, 3 thou wottest full litle what 4 thou does s ; noe good, but Mickle ill." Sir Gawaine says it will be too bad if Arthur doesn't let him take the adventure. Eche man wold this deed haue done. 164 vp start S^r Gawaine soone, vpon his knees can kneele, he said, " that were great villanye without you put this deede to me, 168 my leege, as I haue sayd ; Arthur consents, but not till after dinner. 172 " remember, I am jour sisters sonne." the Kmg said, " I grant thy boone ; but mirth is best att meele ; cheere thy guest, and giue him wine, & after dinner, to itt fine, & sett the buffett well ! " 1 littel— P. 2 i. c. they say. — P. * praise, extolling, boast. — Jun. per- haps roust, noise. G. Doug. — P. * that.— P. 5 doest. — P. THE GRENE KNIGHT. 65 now the greene Knight is set att meate, 176 seemly e 1 serued in his seate, beside the round table, to talke of his welfare, nothing he needs, like a Knight himselfe he feeds, 180 with long time reasnable. 2 Bredbeddle dines. 184 when the dinner, it was done, the Kmg said to Sir Gawaine soone, withouten any fable he said, " on 3 you will doe this deede, I pray Iesus be jour speede ! this knight is nothing vnstable." Arthur wishes Gawaine God speed. Bredbeddle is a stiff one. the greene Knight his head downe layd ; 188 Sir Gawaine, to the axe he braid 4 to strike w*'th eger will ; he stroke the necke bone in twaine, the blood burst out in eue/ye vaine, 192 the head from the body fell. Gawaine chops off Bredbeddle's head. 196 the greene Knight his head vp bent, 5 into his saddle wightilye 6 he sprent, spake words both Lowd & shrill, saith : " Gawaine ! thinke on thy couenant ! this day 12 monthes see thou ne want to come to the greene chappell ! " Bredbeddle picks it up, jumps into his saddle, reminds Gawaine to meet him twelve months hence, 1 MS. seenlye, with a horizontal line and two vertical strokes over the n, denoting a contraction, and showing that I ought to have read as m the similar n in the heading of " Eger and Grine," vol. i. p. 341. The title would then have corresponded with the text ; but never having noticed the contraction before, I hesitated to alter the MS. — F. - reasonable. — P. 3 an.— P. 4 See Herbert Coleridge's Glossary on this word, Old Norse bregta. He abstracts from Egilson. As a neuter verb it is used " of any violent motion of body, as to leap." — F. s took. — P. The old romance makes some of the knights kick the head with their feet, 1. 428.— F. 6 actively. — P. VOL. II. 66 THE GRENE KNIGHT. rides ofE, All had great maruell, that the see 200 that he spake so merrilye & hare his head in his hand, forth att the hall dore he rode right, and that saw both King and knight 204 and Lords that were in land. puts his head on again, and promises Gawaine a better buffet. 208 without the hall dore, the sooth to saine, hee sett his head vpon againe, 1 saies, " Arthur, haue heere my hand ! when-soeuer the Knight cometh to mee, a better buffett sickerlye I dare him well warrand." Arthur is very sorry for Gawaine, so is Lance- lot. Gawaine cheers them np, swears that the greene Knight away went. 212 all this was done by enchantment that the old witch had wrought, sore sicke fell Arthur the King, and for him made great mourning 216 that into such bale was brought. the Queen, shee weeped for his sake ; sorry was Sir Lancelott dulake, & other were dreery in thought 220 because he was brought into great perill ; his mighty e manhood will not availe, that before hath freshly e fought. So* Gawaine comfort King and Queen, 224 & all the doughtye there be-deene 2 ; he bade the shold be still ; said, " of my deede I was neuer feard, 3 nor yett I am nothing a-dread, 228 I swere by Saint Michaell ; [page 206] 1 The old romance makes the head open its eyelids and speak while it's on F. the knight's hand, 1. 446.— P. 3 fraid.— P. immediately. — P. or all together. — THE GRENE KNIGHT. 67 " for when draweth toward my day, I will dresse me in mine array my promise to fulfill. 232 Sir," he saith, " as I haue blis, I wott not where the greene chappell is, therfore seeke itt I will." the rorall Couett * verament 236 all roue-lit 2 Sa Gawaines intent, they thought itt was the best, they went forth into the feild, knights that ware both speare and sheeld 240 the priced 3 forth full prest 4 ; some chuse them to Iustinge, some to dance, Reuell, and sing ; of mirth the wold not rest. 244 all they swore together in fere, that and Sot Gawaine oue/--come were, the wold bren all the west. Now leaue wee the King in his pallace. 248 the greene Knight come home is to his owne Castle ; this folke frend 5 when he came home what doughtye deeds he had done. 252 nothing he wold them tell ; full well hee wist in certaine that his wiffe loued Sa- Gawaine that comelye was vnder kell. 6 256 listen, Lo/-c7s 7 ! & yee will sitt, & yee shall heere the second ffitt, what adventures Sa Gawaine befell. he'll keep his pledge, and will seek out the Green Chapel. The court approve, and go forth to joust, revel, and sport, swearing to revenge Gawaine if he's killed. Bredbeddle reaches his home, tells no one what he has done, but knows that bis wife loves Gawaine. 1 royall Courtt. — P. ? covey, Fr. couvee. — F. 2 ? reached, took in. — F. * pricked. — P. 4 ready. — P. 5 His folke freyn'd, i.e. inquired. — P. 6 A child's caul, any thin membrane. " Rim or kdl wherein the bowels are lapt." Florio, p. 340. Sir John "rofe my kell " (deflowered me) MS. Cantab. IT. v. 48, fo. Ill, Halliwell's Gloss.— F. 7 Lordings. — P. i- -i 68 THE GRENE KNIGHT. The year is up, and Gawaine must go. The king and court grieve. 260 2? parte. 264 [Part II] The day is come that Gawaine must gone ; Knights & Ladyes waxed wann that were without in that place ; the Kmg himselfe siked ill, ther Queen a swounding almost fell, to that Iorney when he shold passe. His steed was dapple- grey, 268 When he was in armour bright, he was one of the goodlyest JLnights that euer in brittaine was borne, they brought Sir Gawaine a steed, was dapple gray and good att need, 1 I tell wi'thouten scorne ; his bridle jewelled^ his stirrups silk; his bridle was with stones sett, 272 with, gold & pearle ouerfrett, & stones of great vertue ; he was of a furley 2 kind ; his stirropps were of silke of ynd ; 276 I tell you this tale for true. he glittered like gold. when he rode ouer the Mold, his geere glistered as gold. by the way as he rode, 280 many furleys 3 he there did see, fowles by the water did flee, by brimes & bankes soe broad. 1 Gryngolet is the steed's name in the old romance, but his colour is not given. All the jolly bits about his trappings, and Gawaine' s armour, with its pentangel devised by Solomon, and called in English " the endeles knot," are omitted here. — F. 2 ferlie, wonder, wonderful ; Sax. ferlic, repentinus, horrendus, Gl. ad G.D.— P. 3 ? MS. furlegs, for ferlies, wonders. — F. THE GRENE KNIGHT. 69 many furleys there saw hee 284 of wolues & wild beasts sikerlye ; on hunting- hee tooke most heede. forth he rode, the sooth to tell, for to seeke the greene chappell, 288 he wist not where l indeed. Gawaine sees wondrous beasts ; As he rode in an eue[n]ing late, riding downe a greene gate, 2 a faire castell saw hee, 3 292 that seemed a place of Mickle pride ; thitherward Sir Gawaine can ryde to gett some harborrowe. 4 [page 207] discerns a castle, rides to it, thither he came in the twylight, 296 he was ware of a gentle Kmght, the hord of the place was hee. Meekly to him Sir Gawaine can speake, & asked him, "for ~Kmg Arthurs sake, 300 of harborrowe I pray thee ! and asks its lord lodging 304 " I am a far Labordd Knight, I pray you lodge me all this night." he sayd him not nay, hee tooke him by the arme & led him to the hall, a poore child 5 can hee call, saith, " dight well this palfrey." for the night. The lord leads him in, into a chamber the went a full great speed ; 308 there the found all things readye att need, I dare safelye swere ; 1 The k is made over an er in the MS. -F. 2 gate, way, Isl. Gata, via. Gl. ad G.D. -P. 3 hee saw, or saw he there. — P. 4 harburee or harbere. Lodging. Urry. —P. 5 " Sere segges," several men, "stabeled his stede, stif men in-noje." Old Eom. which has a fine description of the castle and room, &c. — F. 70 THE GRENE KNIGHT. and they go to supper. The lord's wife sups with them, and then retires. The lord asks Ga- waine what he has come there for. He will keep his counsel. fier in chambers burning bright, candles in chandlers l burning light ; 312 to supper the went full yare. 2 he sent after his Ladye bright to come to supp with that gentle K.night, & shee came blythe with-all ; 316 forth shee came then anon, her Maids following her eche one in robes of rich pall. 3 as shee sate att her supper, 320 euer-more the Ladye clere Sir Gawaine shee looked vpon. when the supper it was done, shee tooke her Maids, & to her chamber gone. 4 324 he cheered the J&dght & gaue him wine, & said, " welcome, by St. Martine ! I pray you take itt for none ill ; 328 one thing, Sir, I wold you pray ; what you make soe farr this way ? the truth you wold me tell ; " I am a ~Knight, & soe are yee ; 332 Your concell, an you will tell mee, forsooth keepe itt I will ; for if itt be poynt of any dread, perchance I may helpe att need 336 either lowd or still." Gawaine tells him all, not knowing he was in for 5 his words that were soe smooth, had Sir Gawaine wist the soothe, all he wold not haue told, 1 Candlesticks. — P. 2 Yare, acutus, ready, eager, nimble. —P. 3 any rich or fine Cloth, but properly purple: taken from the llobe worn by Bishops. — P. See the description of the Ladye in the old romance, with " Hir brest & hir bry3t brote bare displayed," (p. 30-1).— F. 4 Next line wanting in the MS. — F. 5 for all. — P. The old romance keeps the secret till the end. — F. THE GRENE KNIGHT. 71 340 for that was the greene "Knight that hee was lodged with that night, & harbarrowes l in his hold. Bredbeddle'f castle. he saith, "as to the greene chappell, 344 thitherward I can you tell, itt is but furlongs 3. the Master of it is a venterous Knight, & workes by witchcraft day & night, 348 with many a great furley. 2 Bredbeddle directs Gawaine to the Green Chape], (whose master works witchcraft), " if he worke w/th neuer soe much frauce, 3 he is curteous as he sees cause. I tell you sikerlye, 352 you shall abyde, & take yowr rest, & I will into yonder fforrest vnder the greenwood tree." but advises him to stay and rest. they plight their truthes 4 to beleeue, 5 356 either w^th other for to deale, whether it were siluer or gold ; he said, " we 2 both [sworn 6 ] wilbe, what soeuer god sends you & mee, 360 to be parted on the Mold." The greene Knight went on hunting 7 ; Sir Gawaine in the castle beinge, lay sleeping in his bed. They agree to share whatever either may get. 1 harberoVd, lodged. — P. 2 wonder. — P. 3 perhaps frais — to make a noise, crash. G. ad G.D.— P. 4 trothes. — P. 5 be leil. — P. See Leele, 1. 478. But if the text is right, see Wedgwood on be- lieve in his English Etymology. " The fundamental notion seems to be, to ap- prove, to sanction an arrangement, to deem an object in accordance with a certain standard of fitness." — F. 6 ? See 1. 481, "wee were both." The old romance sets out the agreement at length, 1. 1105-9: What the Green Knight wins hunting in the wood, Ga- waine is to have ; what Gawaine gets at home, the Green Knight is to have — " Sweet, swap we so, swear with truth, whether, man, loss befall, or better." — F. 7 The spirited accounts in the old romance of the three-days' hunt of the deer, wild boar, and fox, are all left out here. All the go is taken out of the poem. — F. 72 THE GRENE KNIGHT. Bredbeddle's witch mother-in- law 364 Vprose the old witclie with hast thro we, 1 & to her dauhter can shee goe, & said, " be not adread ! " [page 208] tells his wife that Ga- waine is in the castle, and takes her to him, to her daughter can shee say, 368 " the man that thou hast wisht many a day, of him thou maist be sped ; for Sir Gawaine that curteous Knight is lodged in this hall all night." 372 shee brought her to his bedd. and tells him to embrace her. shee saith, " gentle Knight, awake ! & for this faire Ladies sake that hath loued thee soe deere, 376 take her boldly in thine armes, there is noe man shall doe thee harme ; " now beene they both heere. The wife kisses him thrice, and asks his love. Gawaine the ladye kissed him times 3, 380 saith, "without I have the loue of thee, my life standeth in dere. 2 " Sir Gawaine blushed on the Lady bright, saith, " jour husband is a gentle Kjiight, 384 by him that bought mee deare ! refuses to shame his host. " to me itt were great shame if I shold doe him any grame, 3 that hath beene kind to mee ; 388 for I haue such a deede to doe, that I can neyther rest nor roe, 4 att an end till itt bee." 1 tho, then. — P. Sc. thro, thra, eager, ernest, Isl. thru, pertinax. Jfimieson. The old romance makes the Green Knight's wife go to Gawaine of herself, and on three successive nights. — F. 2 Dere, Isedere, nocere. Lye. — P. 3 Grame — Chauc 1 ! . Grief, sorrow, vexa- tion, anger, madness, trouble, affliction. S. D, am [or Gram,] furor. Urry. — P. 4 A. -Sax. row, quiet, repose. — F. THE GRENE KNIGHT. 73 then spake that Laclye gay, 392 saith, " tell me some x of yowr Iourney, j our succour I may bee ; if itt he poynt of any warr, there shall noe man doe you noe darr 2 396 & yee wilbe gouemed by mee ; " for heere I haue a lace of silke, it is as white as any milke, & of a great value." 400 shee saith, " I dare safely e sweare there shall noe man doe you deere 3 when you haue it 4 vpon you." Sir Gawaine spake mildlye in the place, 404 he thanked the Lady & tooke the lace, & promised her to come againe. the ~K.nicjht in the fforrest slew many a hind, other venison he cold none find 408 but wild bores on the plaine. plenty e of does & wild swine, foxes & other ravine, as I hard true men tell. 412 Sir Gawaine swore sickerlye " home 5 to your owne, welcome you bee, by him that harrowes hell ! " the greene ~Knight his venison downe Layd ; 416 then to S/r Gawaine thus hee said, " tell me anon in heght, 6 what noueltyes that you haue won, for heers plenty of venison." 420 S/r Gawaine said full right, The wife offers to help Ga- waine in his adventure, and will give him a silk lace that will protect him from all harm. Gawaine takes the lace. Bredbeddle, after hunting, is welcomed hoire by Gawaine. lie shares his venison with Ga- waine, 1 Sir.— P. 2 A.-S. dar, injury, hurt. — F. 3 hurt, vid. supra [p. 72, n. 2].— P. 4 on you. — P. There is a bit of a p or & in the MS. between it and vpon.— ~F. 5 to your own home welcome, &c. —P. 6 speed ; like highing, from to high, — F. 74 THE GRENE KNIGHT. and Ga- waine gives him his three kisses, Sir Gawaine sware by S* Leonard, 1 " such as god sends, you shall haue rjart in his armes he hent the Knight, 424 & there he kissed him times 3, saith, " heere is such as god sends mee, by Mary most of Might." but keeps back the lace. Next day euer priuilye he held the Lace : 428 that was all the villanye that euer was prooued by 2 Sir Gawaine the gay. then to bed soone the went, & sleeped there verament 432 till morrow itt was day. Gawaine takes leave, and rides towards the chapel. then Sir Gawaine soe curteous & free, his leaue soone taketh hee att 3 the Lady soe gaye ; 436 Hee thanked her, & tooke the lace, & rode towards the chappell apace ; he knew noe whitt the way. [page 209] Bredbeddle rides there too. euer more in his thought he had 440 whether he shold worke as the Ladye bade, that was soe curteous & sheene. the greene knight rode another way ; he transposed him in another array, 444 before as it was greene. Gawaine hears a horn, as Sir Gawaine rode ouer the plain e, he hard one high 4 vpon a Mountaine a home blowne full lowde. 1 November 6. — S. Leonard or Lionart may be termed the Howard of the sixth century. He was . . probably received into the Church at the same time as his royal master, Clovis, with whom he was in high favour, and who gave him permission to set many of the prisoners at liberty who were confined in the dungeons which his charity prompted him to visit. Notes on the Months, p. 341. 2 on. — P. A.-Sax. be, bi, of, concern- ing.— F. 3 of.— P. Att is right.— F. 4 on high. — P. THE GRENE KNIGHT. 75 448 lie looked after the greene cliappell, he saw itt stand vnder a hill couered With euyes l about ; and sees the Green Chapel, he looked after the greene Knight, 452 he hard him wehett a fauchion bright, that the hills rang about, the 'Knight spake wi'th strong cheere, said, " yee be welcome, S[ir] Gawaine heere, 45 G it behoove th thee to Lowte." 2 he stroke, & litle perced the- skin, vnneth the flesh within. then Sir Gawaine had noe doubt ; and the Green Knight ; who calls him to lay down his head, then strikes, but hardly cuts through the flesh. 460 he saith, " thou shontest 3 ! why dost thou soe ? " then S/r Gawaine in hart waxed throe 4 ; vpon his ffeete can stand, & soone he drew out his sword, 464 & saith, " traitor ! if thou speake a word, thy liffe is in my hand 5 ; I had but one stroke att thee, & thou hast had another att mee, 468 noe falshood in me thou found ! " He re- proaches Gawaine for shrinking. Gawaine threatens to kill him. the 'Knight said withouten laine, " I wend I had S/r Gawaine slaine, the gentlest Knight in this land 6 ; 472 men told me of great renowne, of curtesie thou might haue woon the crowne aboue both free & bound, 7 Bredbeddle answers that Gawaine 1 I suppose Ivyes or perhaps Eughes, i.e. yews. — P. 2 somegreat omission. Note in MS. Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight makes Gawaine answer that he is ready and will not shrink. " Then the grim man seizes his grim tool," strikes, and as it comes gliding down, Gawaine shrinks a little. Bredbeddle (that is, Bernlak de Hautdesert) reproaches him for his cowardice. Gawaine promises not to shrink again, stands firm, and Bred- beddle strikes, (ed. Morris, E. E. Text Soc. p. 72-4.)— F. 3 slmntest, flinchest, shrinkest. — F. 4 forte idem ac Thra, apud G. Doug^ ferox, acer, audax, vel potius pertinax. Vide Lye.— P. 5 hond.— P. 6 Londe.— P. 7 bond.— P. 76 THE GKENE KNIGHT. has lost his three chief virtues, of truth, gen- tleness, and courtesy. He has concealed the lace, and should have shared it. " & alsoe of great gentrye ; 476 & now 3 points l be put fro thee, it is the Moe pittye : Sir Gawaine ! thou wast not Leele 2 when thou didst the lace conceale 480 that my wiffe gaue to thee ! " ffor wee were both, thou wist fall well, for thou hadst the halfe dale 3 of my venerye 4 ; 484 if the lace had neuer beene wrought, to haue slaine thee was neuer my thought, I swere by god verelye ! Tet Bred- beddle will forgive him if he'll take him to Arthur's court. "I wist it well my wiffe loued thee ; 488 thou wold doe me noe villanye, but nicked her wz'th nay ; but wilt thou doe as I bidd thee, take me to Arthurs court with thee, 492 then were all to my pay. 5 " Gawaine agrees. They go back to Hutton Castle, and next day on to Arthur's court. now are the Knights accorded thore G ; to the castle of hutton 7 can the fare, to lodge there all that night. 496 earlye on the other day to Arthurs court the tooke the way with harts blyth & light. All rejoice at Gawaine's return. all the Court was full faine, 500 aliue when they saw Sir Gawaine ; they thanked god abone. 8 1 perhaps these points, q. d. thou hast forfeited these qualities. — P. 2 i. e. loyal, honourable, true. — P. 3 A.-S. dM, part. — F. 4 venison, or rather hunting. So in ChaucT. Fr. Venerie. Urry. — P. 5 content, liking. — P. 6 there.— P. 7 Hutton Manor-house, [Somerset- shire] : the hall, 36 feet by 20, is of the fifteenth century, with arched roof and panelled chimney-piece. Domestic Archi- tecture, iii. 342. The scene is laid "in the west country e," see 1. 39, 1. 515. — F. 8 ? MS. aboue. — F. aboone, abone, idem. — P. THE GRENE KNIGHT. 77 that is the matter & the case why Knights of the bathe weare the lace 504 vntill they haue wonen their shoen, 1 or else a ladye of hye estate from about his necke shall it take, for the doughtye deeds that hee hath done. 508 it was confirmed by Arthur the K[ing ;] thorrow Sir Gawaines desiringe The King granted him his boone. This is why knights of the Bath wear the lace till they've won their spurs, or a lady takes the lace oS. Thus endeth the tale of the greene Knight, [page 210] 512 god, that is soe full of might, to heauen their soules bring that haue hard this litle storye that fell some times in the west countrye 516 in Arthurs days our King ! ffillS. God bring all my hearers to heaven ! This little story befell in the West Country. ' Seep. 123, 1. 1232.— F. [It may be noted, that as the story is told here, the point of it is missed. As the agreement of Bredbeddle and Gawaine is here only to share with the other what each gets, p. 71, 1. 356, not to change it, as in the old romance. Bredbeddle gives Gawaine only half his venison, p. 76, 1. 482, and Gawaine gives Bredbeddle half his gettings, three kisses, out of three kisses and a lace. As he couldn't cut three kisses in half, to go with the half of the lace, he divided the gift fairly in another way, — the three kisses to Bredbeddle, the lace to himself. Rather hard measure to lose one's "3 points" for that.— F.] 78 £>tr: Crfamore.: 1 The earliest known existing copy of this Eomance is preserved at Cambridge. It is of the time of Henry VI., according to Mr. Halliwell, who has edited it for the Percy Society. There is, too, an old MS. copy preserved in the Bodleian Library. The Eomance once enjoyed a wide popularity. It was twice printed by William Copland. From one of these editions Mr. Ellis draws the outline he gives in his Early English Metrical Romances. One of the old printed versions was reprinted by Mr. Utterson in 1817. The copy here given differs but slightly from Copland's and from the Cambridge version. The more important of what differences there are, are mentioned in the notes. The piece is a fair specimen of the old Eomances, with all their vices and their virtues ; with their prolixity, their impro- bability, their exaggeration ; with their wild graces also, their chivalrousness, their pageantry. The story tells how a good lord and his gentle lady were estranged by the treachery of their steward ; how their son, con- ceived in honour, was born in shame ; how, after many a weary year, the execrable fraud was discovered ; and how, at last, the son (who has in the meantime won himself a wife) and his mother are happily reunited to the grieving husband. These various incidents are described with much power and feeling. King Arradas was blessed with a wife, Margaret, " comely to be seen, and true as the turtle-doves on trees." As their union was not followed by the birth of any child, the King determines to 1 271 Stanzas.— P. SIR TRIAMORE. 79 go and fight in the Holy Land, so to propitiate Heaven and per- suade it to grant him an heir. On the very eve of his departure his desire is granted. But he sets forth to the wars not knowing. During his absence his steward Marrock evilly solicits the Queen. "But she was steadfast in her thought." When the King returned from heathenness, and at last his Queen beheld, And saw her go great with child, He wondered at that thing. Many a time he did her kiss, And made great joy without miss, His heart made great rejoicing. The wicked steward avails himself of the King's wonder to insinuate, and more than insinuate, that the child is none of his. The King unhappily listens. The Queen is presently, at the steward's advice, banished the country. So now is exiled that good Queen, But she wist not what it did mean, Nor what made him to begin. To speak to her he nay would ; That made the Queen's heart full cold, And that was great pity and sin. ***** For oft she mourned as he did fare, And cried and sighed full sore. Lords, knights, and ladies gent Mourned for her when she went, And bewailed her that season. In this way came to pass the sad schism that was to bring so many years of forlornness and anguish, the source of so many bitter tears and poignant self-reproaches. The child whom the dishonoured lady then bore in her womb was to be a full-grown man, and a warrior even more formidable than his father himself, ere Arradas and Margaret kissed conjugally again. Who does not rejoice when the fair fame of this true wife is vindicated, the iniquity of her tempter made bare? When at last, at the marriage of their son, Sir Triamour, to the beautiful Helen of Hungary, she and her husband are again brought face to face : 80 SHI TR1AMORE. King Arradas beheld his Queen ; Him thought that he had her seen, She was a lady faire. The King said, " If it is your wish, Your name me for to tell, I pray you with words fair." " My lord," said she, " I was your Queen ; Your steward did me ill teen. That evil might him befall ! " The King spake no more words Till the cloths were drawn from the boards, And men rose in hall, And by the hand he took the Queen, So in the chamber forth he went, And there she told him all. Then was there great joy and bliss When they together gan kiss ; Then all the company made joy enough. But we do not propose here to gather the wild flowers of this poem for our readers. They shall wander through the meadows and cull for themselves. They will easily find them blowing and blooming, if they have any care for the blossoms of Romance. yo^auT LOW ! Iesus Christ, o 2 heauen King ! grant you all his deare blessing, & his heauen for to win ! Hsten 1 ' 11 4 if y ou wm a stond 3 lay to youv eare, ataie lly ° U of ad ventures you shall heare that wilbe to yowr liking, f Ki n g of a "King & of a queene 8 that had great Ioy them betweene ; Sir Arradas 4 was his name ; and Queen Be na( ^ a queene named Margarett, shee was as true as Steele, & sweet, defamed 8 by 12 & full false brought in fame 5 1 Now. — Cop. (or Copland's edition. 4 Ardus. — Ca. (or Cambridge text, Collated by Mr. Hales.) ed. Halliwell.— F.) 2 our. — Cop. 5 evil report, disrepute ; L. fa ma (in 3 stounde. — Cop. a bad sense), ill-repute, infamy, scandal ; .SIK TKIAMUKE. 81 16 by the "Kings steward that Marrocke hight, a traitor & a false knight : herafter yee will say all the same, hee looued well that Ladye gent ; & for shee wold not with him consent, he did that good Queene much shame. Sir Marrock because she would not yield to him. this King loued well his Queene 20 because shee was comlye l to be seene, & as true as the turtle on tree, either to other made great Moane, for children together had they none 24 begotten on their bodye ; Arradas and Margaret lament that they are childless, 28 therfore the King, I vnderstand, made a vow to goe to the holy land, there for to fight & for to slay 2 ; & praid god that he wold send him tho grace to gett a child be-tweene them tow, that the right heire might bee. and Arradas vows to go to the Holy Land, praying God to send him an heir. for his vow he did there make, 32 & of the pope the Crosse he did take, for to seek the land were god him bought, the night of his departing, on the Ladye Mild, as god it wold, hee gott 3 a child ; 36 but they both wist itt naught. He begets a child on his wife, & on the morrow when it was day the King hyed on his Iourney ; for to tarry, he it not thought. and next day starts on his journey. famosas, infamous. (White.) Compare For yf it may be founde in thee That thou them fame for enmyte, Thou shalt be taken as a felon, And put full depe in my pryson. VOL. II. The Squyr of Lowe Dcgre. 1. 392 (Kitsoniii. 161, Hall!).— F. 1 semely. — Cop. 2 sle. — Cop. 3 gate. — Cop. 82 SIR TRIAMOJRE. Queen Margaret mourns ; 40 then the Queene began to mourne because her "Lord wold noe longer soiourne ; shee sighed fall sore, & sobbed oft. their parting is sad. the 'King & his men armed them right, 44 both Lords, Barrons, & many a knight, wz'th.him for to goe. then betweene her & the King was much sorrow & mourninge 48 when the shold depart in too. Arradas charges Marrock to take care of his Queen, 52 he kissed & tooke his leaue of the Queene x & other Ladies bright & sheene, & of Marrocke his steward alsoe ; the King commanded him on paine of his life for to keepe well his queene & wiffe both in weale & woe. and goes to the Holy Land. Marrock wooes the Queen, and seeks to lie with her. Margaret is true, 56 60 64 68 now is the King forth gone to the place where god was on the crosse done, & warreth there a while, then bethought this false steward — as yee shall here affcer[ward, 1 ] — his lord & King to beguile ; he wooed 2 the Queene day & night for to lye wi'th her, & he might ; he dread no creature thoe. ffull fayre hee did that Lady speake, [ page 2 n] that he might in bed with, that Ladye sleepe ; thus full oft he prayed her thoe. but shee was stedfast in her thought, & heard them speake, & said nought till hee all his case 3 had told. MS. hereafter. P. has added ward.—F. 2 wowed.— Cop. • 1 tale.— Cop. SIR TKIAMORE. 83 then shee said, " Marrocke, hast thou not thought all that thou speakeest is ffor nought ? I trow not that thou wold 1 ; and re- proaches Marrock. 76 " for well my Lord did trust thee, when hee to you deliuered mee to haue me vnder the 2 hold ; & [thou] woldest full faine to doe thy Lord shame ! traitor, thou art to bold ! " Her lord trusted him, and he betrays his trust. then said Marrocke vnto that Ladye, 80 " my Lord is gone now verelye against gods foes to flight ; &, without the more wonder bee, hee shall come noe more att thee, 84 as I am a true knight. Marrock tells the Queen that Arradas is sure never to return ; 88 " & Madam, wee will worke soe priuilye, that wethere 3 he doe Hue or dye, for of this shall 4 witt noe wight. 5 " then waxed the Queene wondcrous [wroth, 6 ] & swore many a great othe as shee was a true woman, and promises to keep their sin secret. Margaret angrily shee said, " traitor ! if euer thou be soe hardiye 92 to show me of such villanye, on a gallow tree I will thee hange ! if I may know after this that thou tice me, I- wis 7 96 thou shalt haue the law of the land." threatens to hang Marrock, if he says another word to her. 1 I didn't think you were capable of this.— F. 2 they. — Cop. 3 After the first e an A is marked out. — F. 4 there shall. — Ca. 5 man. — P. 6 Added by Percy.— F. 7 tyce me to do a mysse. — Cop. g 2 84 SIR TRIAMORE. Marrock assures her lie meant her no wrong, but only to try her truth. Sir Marroccke said, " Ladye, mercy e I I said itt for noe villaine, by Iesu, heauen Kinge ! 100 but only for to prone jour will, whether that you were good or ill, & for noe other thinge ; Now he knows she is true, she must not be vexed. " bnt now, Madam, I may well see 104 yon are as true as turtle on the tree l vnto my Lord the King ; & itt is to me both glad & leefe ; therfore take it not into greefe 108 for noe manner of thinge." Margaret believes him. But Marrock, disgusted, 112 & soe the traitor excused him thoe, the Lady wend itt had beene soe as the steward had said. he went forth, & held him still, & thought he cold not haue his will ; therfore hee was euill apayd. schemes how to betray her, and does it. 2 soe wt'th treason & trecherye 116 he thought to doe her villanye ; thus to himselfe he said, night & day hee laboured then for to betray 3 that good woman ; 120 soe att the last he her betraid. Arradaa now of this good Queene leaue wee, & by the grace of the holy trinityo full great -with, child did shee gone. 124 now of ~FLing Arradas speake wee, that soe farr in heathinnesse is hee to fight against gods fone 4 ; 1 as stele on tree. — Ca. 2 This stanza is not in Ca. 3 deceyue. — Cop. * fonne. — Cop. SIR TRIAMORE. 85 there with his army & all his might 128 slew many a sarrazen l in fight, great words of them there rose in the heathen Land, & alsoe in Pagaine 2 ; & in enerye other Land that they come bye, 132 there sprang of him great losse. 3 and his men slay Saracens and grow famous. when [he 4 ] had done his pilgrimage, & labored all that great voyage 5 with all his good will & lybertye, — 136 att fflome lor den & att Bethlem, 6 & att Calnarye beside Ierusalem, in all the places was hee ; — [page 212] After visiting Jordan and Calvary, then he longed to come home 140 to see his Ladye that liued at one ; he thought euer on her greatlye. soe long the sealed on the fome till att the last they came home ; 144 he arriued oner the Last 7 strond. he longs for home, and sets sail. the shippes did strike their sayles eche one, the men were glad the ILmg came home vnto his owne Land. 148 there was both mirth & game, the Queene of his cominge was glad & faine, Eche of them told other tydand. 8 Arradas reaches home, meets Margaret, the "King at last his Queene beheld, 152 & saw heer goe great with childe : [& 9 ] hee wondred att that thinge. and finds her great with child, to his wonder. 1 sarzyn. — Cop. 2 Pagany. — Cop. 3 Loos or fame, Fama. Prompt.orium. -F. 4 he.— Ca. 5 vayge. — Cop. 6 Bedleem. — Cop. 7 salte. — Cop. 8 tydynge. — Cop. 9 A hole in the MS. 86 SIK TMAMORE. Marrock tells him that the child is many a time he did her kisse, & made great ioj without misse ; 156 his hart 1 made great reioceinge. soone after the ~King hard tydinges newe by Marroccke : that false knight vntrue with reason his lord gan fraine, 160 " my lord," he sayd, " for gods 2 byne 3 ! for of that childe that neuer was thine, 4 why art thow soe fayne ? certainly not his. His Queen has been false ; another knight begot the child. "What? When I put her in your charge ? " Marrock excuses himself, but declares he saw a knight lie with her, for which he killed him, " you wend that itt jotir owne bee ; 164 but," he said, " Sir, ffor certain tye jour Queene hath you betraine ; another K.night, soe god me speed, begott this child sith you yeed, 168 & hath thy Queene forlaine." " Alas ! " said the King, " how may this bee ? for I betooke her vnto thee, her to keepe in waile & woe 5 ; 172 & vnder thy keeping how fortuned this that thou suffered her doe amisse ? alas, Marroccke ! why did thou soe ? " " Sir," said the steward, " blame not me ; 176 for much mone shee made for thee, as though shee had loued noe more ; " I trowed on her noe villanye till I saw one lye her by, 1 80 as the Mele 6 had wrought, to him I came w/th Egar mood, & slew the traitor as he stood ; full sore itt [me] forethought. 1 First written halt.— F. 2 Goddes. — Cop. 3 Goddys pyne. — Oa. 4 MS. thine was.— F. 5 weal & woe. — P. 6 ? Fr. mal, evil ; or meslee, a mixture, mingling, melling. Cotgrave. — F. SIR TRIAHORE. 87 184 " then sliee trowed shee shold be shent, & promised me both Land & rent ; soe fayre shee me besought to doe with her all my will 188 if that I wold [keepe] me still, & tell you naught." and the Queen pro- mised him herself for his silence. " of this," said the Km^f, " I haue great wonder ; for sorrow my hart will breake assunder l ! 192 why hath shee done amisse ? alas ! to whome shall I me mone, sith I haue lost my comlye Queene that I was wont to kisse ? " Arradaa sorrows. He has lost his Queen 196 the "King said, "Marroccke, what is thy read ? it is best to turne to dead 2 my ladye that hath done me this 2 ; now because that shee is false to mee, 200 I will neuer more her see, nor deale with her, I-wisse. 3 " What can he do? He'll kill her. the steward said, " hord, doe not soe ; thou shalt neither burne ne sloe, 4 204 but doe as I you shall you tell." Marroccke sayd, " this councell I : banish her out of jour Land priuilye, far into exile. Marrock advises him to banish her, 208 " deliuer her an ambling 5 steede, & an old Knight to her lead ; thus by my councell see 6 yee doe ; [page 213] gi ve her a horse asonder. — Cop. ? turne is for burne, cp. 1. 203. — F. brenne her to ded. — Cop. Whether that sche be done to dedd That was my blysse ? — Ca. 3 ywys. — Cop. 4 flo.— Cop. 5 ambelynge. — Cop. oolde. — Ca. 6 loke. — Cop. 88 SIR TRIAMORE. and money, and let her go. & giue tlieni some spending money 212 that may them out of the land bring ; I wold noe better then soe. Arradas agrees. " & an other mans child shalbe you heyre, itt were neither good nor fayre 216 but if itt were of jour kin." then said the ~King, " soe mote I thee, right as thou sayest, soe shall it bee, & erst will I neuer blin. 1 " Queen Margaret is to be exiled ; the King will not speak to her. 220 Loe, now is exiled that good Queene ; but shee wist not what it did meane, nor what made him to begin, to speake to her he nay wold ; 224 that made the Queenes hart full cold, & that was great pittye & sin. He gives her an old iteed, an old knight, Sir Roger, to look after her, he did her cloth in purple 2 weede, & set her on an old steed 228 that was both crooked & almost blinde ; he tooke her an old Knight, kine to the Queene, Sir Rodger 3 hight, that was both curteous 4 & kind. and three days to quit the land in, (or the Queen will be burnt,) 232 3 dayes he gaue them leaue 5 to passe, & after that day sett was, if men might them find, the Queene shold burned 6 be starke dead 236 in a flyer with flames redd : this came of the stewards 7 mind. 8 1 blyne.— Cop. 2 He let clothe hur in sympulle.- 3 Roger.- Cop. 4 curteyse. — Cop. 5 And gaf them twenty dayes. -Ca. 6 brenned. — Cop. 7 stuardes. — Cop. 8 minid, in the MS— F. Ca. SIR TRIAMORE. 89 40'f florences for their expence l the "King did giue them in his presence, 240 & comawnded them to goe. the Ladye mourned as shee shold dye ; for all this shee wist not whye hee fared with her soe. 244 that good Knight comforted the Queene, & said, " att gods will all must beene ; therfore, Madam, mourne you noe more." Sir Rodger for her hath much care, 248 [For ofte she mourned as she dyd fare, 2 ] & cryed & sighed full sore ; Lords, Knights, & ladyes gent mourned for her when shee went, 252 & be-wayled 3 her that season. the Queene began to make sorrow & care when shee from the King shold fare with wrong, against all reason. 256 forth they went, in number 4 3, Sir Rodger, the Queene, & his greyhound trulye ; ah ! o 5 worth wicked treason ! also forty florins. Queen Margaret mourns. Sir Roger comforts her, but she wails still, and they set off. then thought the steward trulye 260 to doe the Queene a villanye, & to worke with her his will. he ordained him a companye of his ovrae men priuilye 264 that wold assent him till ; all vnder a Wood 6 side they did lye wheras the Queene shold passe by, & held them wonderous still ; Marrock gets his men together, and lies in ambush for the Queen, 1 Thretty florens to there spendynge. -Ca. 2 This line is from Copland's text.— H. 3 MS. he wayled.— F. 4 nunnber, in the MS.— F. wo.- -Cop. 6 wodes. — Cop. vv in the MS.— F. The Wis matlo like 90 SIR TRIAMORE. to work his 268 & there lie thought verelye lust on her. , . 1 r\ r ±. i i his good Queene tor to lye by, his lusts l for to fulfill. The Queen and Sir Roger perceive Marrock's treason. Sir Roger prepares & when hee came into the wood, 272 Sir Rodger & the Queene soe good, & there 2 to passe with-out doubt ; with that they were ware of the steward, how hee was coming to them ward 276 with a ffull great rout. "heere is treason ! " then said the Queene. "alas! " said Roger, "what may this meane ? with foes wee be sett round about." 280 the "Knight sayd, " heere will wee dwell ; Our lifie wee shall full deere sell, [page 2U] be they neuer soe stout. for defence. Marrock threatens to kill him. Sir Roger defies him, attacks his men, " Madam," he sayd, " be not aflrayd, 284 for I thinke heere with this sword that I shall make them lowte." then cryed the steward to S/r Rodger on hye, & said, " Lore?, 3 traitor ! thou shalt dye ! 288 for that I goe about." Sir Rodger said, " not for thee ! my death shalt thou deare abye; for with thee will I fight." 292 he went to him shortlye, & old Sir Rodger bare him manfullye 4 like a full hardye Knight ; he hewed on them boldlye ; 296 there was none of that companye soe hardye nor sow 5 wight. 1 lustes. — Cop. 2 ? construction. Is there miswritten for thought, or is thought understood, or is thereto one word ? — H. 3 olde. — Cop. 4 manly. — Cop. 5 so. — Cop. SIR TRIAMORE. 91 Sir Rodger liitt l one on the head that to the girdle the sword yeed, 300 then was hee of them quitte 2 ; splits one to the girdle, he smote a stroke wt'th a sword 3 good that all about them ran the blood, soe sore he did them smite ; 304 trulye-hee, 4 his greyhound that was soo 5 good, did helpe his master, & by him stood, & bitterlye can hee byte. wounds others, and his greyhound, Trulyhee, helps. then that Lady, that fayre foode, 6 308 she feared Marrocke in her mood ; shee light on foote, & left her steede, & ran fast, & wold not leaue, & hid her vnder a greene greaue, 7 312 for shee was in great dread. Queen Margaret dismounts, runs away, and hides herself. S/r Rodger then the Queene can behold, & of his liffe he did nothing hold ; his good grayhound did help him indeed, 316 &, as itt is in the romans 8 told, 14 he slew of yeomen 9 bold ; 10 soe he quitted him in that steade. Sir Roger kills fourteen yeomen, if hee had beene armed, I-wisse 1 1 320 all the Masterye had been his ; alas hee lacked weed, as good Sir Rodger gaue a stroake, behind him came Sir Marroccke, — 324 that euill might he speed, — but Marrock 1 hyt.— Cop. 2 quyte. — Cop. 3 swerde. — Cop. 4 Trewe-loue. — Ca. 5 de at the end has been marked out of the MS.— F. 6 fode. — Cop. person. — F. 7 greye. — Cop. grove. — F. 8 Romaynes. — Cop. 9 yemen. — Cop. 10 xl'.' Syr Koger downe can folde. — Ca. 11 ywis. — Cop. 92 SIR TRTAMORE. stabs him in the back and kills him. Marrock searches everywhere for the Queen, lie smote Sir Rodger with, a speare, & to tile ground he did him beare, & fast that Knight did bleed. 328 Sir Marroccke gaue him such a wound that he dyed there on ground, & that was a sinfull deede. now is Rodger slaine certainlye. 332 he rode forth & let him Lye, & sought after the Queene. fast hee rode, & sought euerye way, yet wist he not where the Queene Laye. 336 then said the traitor teene ; x but cannot find her : he gets wroth, ouer all the wood hee her sought ; but as god wold, he found her nought. then waxed he wrath, I weene, 340 & held his Iourney euill besett, that with, the Queene had not mett to haue had his pleasure, the traitor keene. & when he cold not the lady finde, 344 homeward they began to wend, hard by where Sir Rodger Lay. the steward 2 him thrust throughout, for of his death he had noe doubt, 348 & this the storye doth say. and goes home, Roger's corpse on the way, and having lost fourteen men. & when the traitor had done soe, he let him lye & went him froe, & tooke noe thought that day ; 352 yett all his companye was nye gone, 14 he left there dead for one ; there passed but 4 away. 3 1 If a stanza is not omitted, said must mean assayed, tried. — F. 2 stuarde. — Cop. 3 xl. he had chaunged for oone. Ther skaped but two away. — Ca. SIR TRIAMORE. 93 then the Queene was ffull woe, 356 And shee saw thai they were goe, shee made sorrow & crye. then shee rose & went againe to Sir Rodger, & found him slaine ; 360 his grey-hound by his feet did lye. [page 215] Queen Margaret laments over " alas," shee said, " that I was borne ! my trew knight that I haue lorne, they haue him there slaine ! " 364 full pitteouslye shee mad her moane, & said, " now must I goe alone ! " the grey-hound shee wold haue had full faine ; Sir Roger's corpse. the hound still by his Master did lye, 368 he licked his wounds, & did whine & crye. this to see the Queene had paine, & said, "Sir Roger, this hast thou for me ! alas that [it] shold euer bee ! " 372 her hayre shee tare in twayne ; The grey- hound will not leave the corpse. 376 & then shee went & tooke her steed, & wold noe longer there abyde lest men shold find her there, shee said, "Sir Roger, now thou art dead, who will the right way now me lead ? for now thow mayst speake noe more." The Queen laments again the loss of Sir Roger, right on the ground there as he lay dead, 380 shee kist him or shee from him yead. 1 god wott her hart was sore ! what for sorrow & dread, fast away shee can her speede, 384 shee wist not wither nor where. kisses his corpse, and speeds away. 1 This incident is not in Ca. — F. 94 SIR TRIAMORE. The hound licks his master's wounds, to heal them. What love ! The hound scrapes a grave, and buries his master. Margaret rides on into Hungary. The pains of labour come on, the good grayhound for waile & woe from the 'Knight hee wold not goe, but Lay & licked his wound ; 388 he waite l to haue healed them againe, & therto he did his paine : loe, such loue is in a hound 2 ! this knight lay till he did 3 stinke ; 392 the greay hound he began to thinke, & scraped a pitt anon ; therin he drew the dead 4 corse, & couered itt with earth & Mosse, 5 396 & from him he wold not gone. the grayhound lay still there ; this Quee7ie gan forth to fare for dread of her fone ; 400 shee had great sorrow in her hart, the thornes pricked her wonderous smart, 6 shee wist not wither to goe. this lady forth fast can hye 404 into the land of Hugarye 7 ; thither came shee with great woe. at last shee came to a wood side, but then cold shee noe further ryde, 408 her paynes tooke her soe. shee lighted downe in that tyde, for there shee did her trauncell 8 abyde ; god wold that it shold be soe. 412 then shee with much paine tyed her horsse by the rayne, & rested her there till her paynes were goe. 1 expected. — F. 2 Grete kyndenes ys in howndys. — Ca. 3 The last d is made over an s in the MS.— F. * deed.— Cop. 6 And scraped on hym hothe ryne and mosse. — Ca. 6 wonder smert. — Cop. 7 Hongarye. — Ca. Hongrye. — Cop. 8 for trauell, travail. — F. trauayll. -Cop. SIR TRIAMORE. 95 sliee was deliuered of a manchild sweete ; 416 & when it began to crye & weepe, it ioyed her hart greatlye. soone after, when shee might stirr, shee tooke her child to her full neere, 420 And wrapt 1 itt full softlye. [page 216] What for wearye & for woe, they fell a-sleepe both to we ; her steed stood her behind. 424 then came a knight rydand there, 2 & found this ladye soe louelye of cheere as hee hunted after the hind. the Knight hight Bernard Mowswinge, 3 428 that found the Queene sleepinge, vnder the greenwoode lyande. 4 softlye he went neere & neere ; he went on foot, & beheld her cheere, 432 as a Knight curteous & kind. he awaked that ladye of beawtye 5 ; shee looked on him pitteouslee, & was affray d r> full sore. 436 he said, " what doe you here, Madame ? of whence be you, or whats jouv name ? haue you jour men forlorne 7 ? " " Sir," shee sayd, " if you will witt, 8 440 my name is 9 called Margerett ; in Arragon I was borne ; heere I sufferd much greefe ; helpe me, Sir, 10 out of this-Mischeefe ! 444 att some towne that I were." and she is delivered of a male child. She joys, takes her baby to her, and falls asleep. A knight finds her, Sir Bernard Mowswinge, wakes her, and asks her what she does there, what is her name? 1 Margaret ; help me ! " 1 wrauped. — Cop. 2 nere. — Cop. 3 Sir Barnarde Messengere. — Ca. Bar- nard Mausewynge. — Cop. 4 lynde. — Cop. s beaute. — Cop. 6 aferde. — Cop. 7 MS. forlorme. — F. forlore. — P. 8 wete. — Cop. 9 MS. is is; ?for it is.— F. 10 There appears a word like it marked out here in the MS.— F. 96 Sir Bernard takes her and her baby home, gets a woman to tend her, and gives her all she wants. She christens her boy Triamore, SIB TRIAMORE. the Knight beheld the Ladye good ; hee ' thought shee was of gentle blood that was soe hard bestead 2 ; 448 he tooke her vp curteouslye, & the child that lay her bye ; them both with, hini he led, & made her haue a woman att will, 452 tendinge of her, as itt was skill, 3 all for to bring her a-bedd. whatsoever shee wold haue, shee needed itt not long to craue, 456 her speech was right soone sped. the christened the child wz'th great honour, & named him Sir Tryamore. then they were of him glad ; 460 great gifts to him was giuen of Lords & ladyes by-deene, in bookes as I read. and stays with her new friends. Triamore is taught courtesy, and all folk love him. there dwelled that Ladye longe 464 wt'th much Ioy them amonge ; of her the were neuer wearye. the child was taught great nurterye 4 ; a Master had him vnder his care, 468 & taught him curtesie. 5 this child waxed wonderous well, of great stature both of fleshe & fell ; euerye man loued him trulye, 472 of his company e all folke were glad ; indeed, noe other cause they had, the child was gentle & bold. 1 MS. shee.— F. And.— Ca. 2 bestadde. — Cop. 3 skell. — Cop. reason. — F. 4 nurture. — P. norture. — Cop. 5 Sche techyd hur sone for to wyrke, And taght hym evyr newe. — Ca. SIB TKIAMOliE. 97 Now of the Queene let wee bee, 476 & of the gray hound speake wee that I erst of told. Sir Roger's grey hound long 7 yeeres, soe god me sane, he did keepe his Masters grane, 480 till that hee waxed old ; this Gray-hound Sir Roger kept l long, & brought him vp sith he was younge, in stoxy as it is told ; keeps to his in-,ister"s grave seven years, for Sir Roger had brought him up. 484 therfore he kept soe there for the 2 space of 7 yeere, & goe from him he ne wold, euer vpon bis M.asters graue he lay, 488 there might noe man haue him away for heat neither for cold, The hound never leaves [page 217] the grave, without it were once a day he ran about to gett his prey 3 492 of beasts that were bold, conyes, when be can them gett ; thus wold he labor for his meate, yett great hungar he bad in how. 4 except to get food. 496 & 7 yeeres he dwelled there, till itt beffell on that yeere, euen on christmasse day, the gray-hound (as the story sayes) 500 came to the K.ivgs palace 5 without any 6 delay. One Christ- mas the hound goes to Arradas's palace, had kepte. — Cop. By the. — Cop. praye. — Cop. 4 holde. — Cop. How, care. Halliwull. — F. 5 palayes. — Cop. 6 ony. — Cop. VOL. II. II 98 SIR TIUAMORE. cannot find what he seeks, and goes back to Sir Roger's grave. Arradas thinks he has seen the dog before. Next day the hound returns, but cannot find Marrock. Arradas says it is Sir Roger's dog, and perhaps the Queen has come back ; when they LortZs were l sett at rrieate, soone the grayhound into the hall runn 504 amonge the knights gay ; all about he can behold, but he see not what hee wold ; then went he his way full right 508 when he had sought & cold not find ; ffull gentlye he did his kind, speed better when he might. the grayhound ran forth his way 512 till he came where his ~M.aster Lay, as fast as euer he mought. the king marueiled at that deed, from whence he went, & whither he yeed, 516 or who him thither brought. the ~KAng thought he had seene him ere, but he wist not well where, therfor he said right nought. 520 soone he bethought him then that he did him erst ken, & 2 still stayd in that thought. the other day, in the same wise, 524 when the ~K:ing shold from his meate rise, the Grayhound came in thoe ; all about there he sought, but the steward found he nought ; 528 then againe he began to goe. the[n] sayd the ILmg in thai stond, "methinkes it is Sir Rogers hound that went forth with the Queene ; 532 I trow they be come againe to this land. Jjords, all this I vnderstand, it may right well soe bee ; 1 The first e is made over an h in the MS. — F. sate styll in a. — Cop. SIR TRIAMORE. 99 " if that they be into this Land come, 536 we shall haue word therof soone & within short space ; for neuer since the went I-wisse I saw not the gray hound ere this ; 540 it is a marueilous case ! " when he cometh againe, follow him, fo[r] euermore he will run l to his Masters dwelling place ; 544 run & goe, looke ye not spare, till that yee come there to Sir Rodger & my Queene." when the dog comes again, some lords are to follow him to Sir Roger and the Queen. then the 3? day, amonge them all 548 the grayhound came into the hall, to meate ere the were 2 sett. Marrocke the steward was within, the grayhound thought he wold not blin 552 till he with him had mett ; Next day the dog comes again, finds Marrock, he tooke the steward by the throte, & assunder he it bote 3 ; but then he wold not byde, 556 for to his graue he rann. there follolwed him many a man, some on horsse, some beside ; and bites him through the throat. Men follow the dog & when he came where his "Master was, 560 he Layd him downe beside the grasse And barked at the men againe. [page 218] there might noe man him from the place gett, & yett w/th staues the did him beate, 564 that he was almost slaine. to Sir Roger's grave, which he will not quit. 1 renne. — Cop. 2 werere, in the MS. — F. 3 MS. o over a y. — F. The. hovnd wrekyd hys maystyrs dethe. — Ca. h 2 100 They return, and Arradas says that Marrock has slain Sir Roger. He orders a search for his corpse. They find the body, SIR TllIAMORE. & when the men saw noe better boote, then the men yeed home on horsse & foote, with great wonder, I weene. 568 the King said, " by gods paine, I trow Sir Marrocke hath Sir Rodger slaine, & with treason famed l my Qneene. " goe yee & seeke there againe ; 572 for the hounds M.aster there is slaine, some treason there hath beene." thither they went, soe god me saue, & found Sir Roger in his graue, 576 for that was soone seene : and take it to Arradas, who weeps, laments over Marrock's treachery, & there they looked him there vpon, for he was hole both flesh & bone, & to the court his body they brought. 550 for when the King did him see, the teares ran downe from his eye, full sore itt him forethought. the gray hound 2 he wold not from his course 3 fare 584 then was the King cast in care, & said, " Marroccke hath done me teene ; slaine he hath a curteous Knight, & famed 4 my Queene With great vnright, 588 as a traitor keene." and hanged. 592 the King let draw anon- right the stewards bodye, that false Knight, with horsse through the towne ; then he hanged him on a tree, that all men might his body see, ^7i«t he had done treason. 1 defamed. — F. flemed. — Cop. 2 grehcmnd. — Cop. 3 corse. — Cop. 4 for famed, defamed.- — Ca. flemed. — Cop. -F. flemyd. SIR TRIAMORE. 101 Sir Rogers Body the next day 596 the King bury eel in good array, wrth many a bold baron. 1 Sir Roger's corpse is buried, the Grayhound was neuer away by night nor yet by day, 600 but on the ground he did dye. the 'King did send his messengere in euerye place far & neere after the Queene to spye ; 604 but for ought he cold enquire, he cold of that Ladye nothing heare ; therfore the King was sorrye. 1 and his hound dies. Arradas tries to get tidings of his Queen, but can hear none. the King sayd, " I trow noe reed, 608 for well I wott that shee is dead ; for sorrowe now shall I dye ! alas, that euer shee from mee went ! this false steward hath me shent 612 throughe his false treachery e." He thinks her dead, 616 this King liued in great sorrow both euening & morrow till that hee were brought to ground, he liued thus many a yeere wrfch mourning & with, euill cheere, his sorrowes lasted long : and lives in sorrow many year3. & euer it did him great paine 620 when hee did thinke how Sir Roger was slaine, & how helped him his hound ; & of his Queene that was soe Mylde, how shee went from him great with child ; 624 for woe then did hee sound. 2 grieving over Sir Roger's death and his pregnant Queen's banishment. 1 Percy marks the thrco la.sfc lines as separate stanzas, but I add them to those that precede them. 2 swoon. — F. 102 SIR TRIAMORE. He mourns and is sad at heart. long time thus lined the ~King in great sorrow & Mourning, & oftentime did weepe ; 628 he tooke great thought more & more, It made his hart verrye sore, his sighs were sett soe deepe. [page 219] Meantime Triamore is fourteen, now of the Kmg wee will bline, 632 & of the Queene let vs begin, & Sir l Tryamore ; for when he was 14 yeere old, there was noe man soe bold 636 durst doe him dishonor 2 ; strong, and tall, and well- doing. in euerye time 3 both stout & stronge, & in stature large & longe, comlye of hye color ; 640 all that ener he dwelled amonge, he neuer did none of them wronge, the more that was his honor. The King of Hungary dies, leaving only a daughter, fair Helen, of fourteen, in that time sikerlye 644 dyed the ~King of Hungarye 4 that was of great age I-wiss 5 ; he had no heire his land to hold but a daughter was 14 yeers old 6 ; 648 faire [Hellen 7 ] shee named is. white as a lily. shee was as white as lilye 8 flower, & comely, of gay color, the fairest of any towne or tower ; 1 her sonne. — Cop. 2 dysshonoure. — Cop. 3 . lymme. — Cop. 4 Hungry. — Cop. 5 The second s is made over an e in the MS— F. 6 of vij. yerys elde. — Ca. 7 See 1. 775. Hellene, 1. 1587 below.— F. Her name Helyne ys. — Ca. Elyne. —Cop. 8 The top of a long s whose bottom is marked through, is left in the MS. before the first I. — F. SIR TRIAMORE. 103 652 shee was well shapen of foote & hand, peere shee had none in noe land, shee was soe fresh & soe amorous. for when her father was dead, 656 great warr began to spread in that land about ; then the Ladyes conncell gan her reade, ' gett her a lord her land to lead, 660 to rule the reahne without doubt; some mightye prince that well might rule her land with reason & right, that all men to him might Lout.' Her land is invaded ; her council tell her to marry a lord to protect her. 664 & when her councell had sayd soe, for great need shee had therto, shee graunted them without Lye : the Lady said, "I will not feare 668 but he [be] prince or princes peere, & cheefe of all chiualrye." She consents, therto shee did consent, & gaue her Lords commandement 672 a great lusting for to crye ; & at the Iustine, shold soe bee, what man that shold win the degree, 1 shold win that Ladye trulye. 676 the day of lusting then was sett, halfe a yeere without lett, without any more delay, because the might haue good space, 680 Lords, knights, dukes, in euerye place, for to be there that day. proclaims a jousting, the winner at which shall win her too. The day is fixed. 1 Fr. degre, a degree, ranke, or place of honour. Cotgrave. — F. 104 SIR TRIAMORE. The best lords prepare to contend. Triamore hears of the jousting, and resolves to go to it, but he has no horse or arms. Lords, the best in euerye Land, hard tell of that rydand, 684 & made them readye fall gay ; of euerye land there was the best, 1 of the States that were honest 2 attyred 3 many a Lady gay. 688 great was that chiualrye that came that time to Hungarye, there for to lust with might, at last Triamore hard tyding 692 that there shold be a lusting ; thither wold he wend. if he wist that he might gaine with all his might, he wold be faine 4 696 that gay Ladye for to win ; hee had noe horsse nay noe other geere, Nor noe weapon with him to beare ; that brake his hart in twaine. [page 220] He asks Sir Bernard to lend hini some, and the knight tells him he knows no- thing about it. Triamore asks to be tried. 700 he thought both euen & morrow where he might some armour borrowe, therof wold hee be faine to Sir Barnard then he can wend, 5 704 that he wold armour lend 6 to iust against the knights amaine. 7 then said Sir Barnard, " what hast thou thought ? pardew ! of iusting thou canst nought ! 708 for yee bee not able wepon to weld." " Sir," said Triamore, " what wott yee of what strenght that I bee till I haue assay d in feeld ? " 1 bestee. — Cop. 2 moost honasty.- -Cop. 3 dressed herself : parallel to 1. 684. States may mean " nobles." — F. 4 He wolde purvey hym fulle fayne. -Ca. 5 mene. — Cop. 6 lene. — Cop. 7 of mayne. — Cop. SIR TRIAMORE. 105 712 then S/r Barnard that was full liend, said, " Triamor, if thow wilt wend, thou shalt lacke noe weed ; I will lend thee all my geere, 716 horsse & harneis, sheild & spere, thou art nothing 1 to dread ; Sir Bernard then prom- ises to lend him horse and arms, " alsoe thither with thee will I ryde, & euer nye be by thy side 720 to helpe thee if thou haue need ; all things that thow wilt haue, gold & siluer, if thow wilt craue, thy Iourney for to speed." go with him, and provide him money. 724 then was Triamore glad & light, & thanked Barnard wt'th all his might of his great proferinge. that day the lusting shold bee, 728 Triamore sett him on his knee & asked his mother blessinge. at home shee wold haue kept him faine ; but all her labor was in vaine, 732 there might be noe letting, shee saw it wold noe better bee, her blessing shee gaue him verelye w[i]th full sore weepinge. On the day of the joust, Triamore asks his mother's blessing, anil she gives it him sorrowfully. 736 & when it was on the Morrow day, Triamore was in good array, armed & well dight ; when he was sett on his steed, 740 he was a man both 2 lenght & bread, 3 & goodlye in mans sight. In the morning, Triamore 1 nothenge. — Cop. in. -Cop. 3 brede. — Cop. 106 SIK TRIAMORE. starts ■with Sir Bernard. then Triamore to the feeld can ryde, & Sir Barnard by his side ; 744 they were Iocund & light ; there was none in all the feild that was more seemlye vnder sheild ; he rode full like a knight. Queen Helen of Hungary looks from a turret on the gay scene of 748 then was the faire Lady sett full hye vppon a turrett, 1 for to behold that play ; there was many a seemlye K.night, 752 princes, Lords, & dukes of Might, themselues for to assay, helmed knights. Triamore with helme on theire heads bright that all the feelds shone with light, 756 they were soe stout & gay : then Str triamore & Sir Barnard the pressed them into the feeld forward, 2 there durst noe man say nay. happens to choose his father, King Arradas's side. 760 there was much price 3 & pride when eue?ye man to other can ryde, & lords of great renowne ; it beffell triamore that tyde 764 for to be on his fathers side, the King of Arragon. A big Lom- bard lord rides forth ; Triamore throws him, the first that rode forth certainlye was a great Lord of Lumbardye, 768 a wonderfull bold Barron. Triamor rode him againe : for all that lord had Might & maine, the child bare him downe. [page 221] Hyo up in a garett. — Ca. 2 warde. — Cop. prees. — Cop. SIR TRIAMORE. 107 772 l then cryed Sir Barnard with honor, "A TRIAMOR, a TRIAMORE ! " for men shold him ken. Mayd Hellen 2 that was soe mild, 776 more shee beheld triamore the child then all the other men. and Sir Bernard shouts "A Tnmnore" to make him known. Queen Helen views him with favour. then the ~Kings sonne of Nauarrne 3 wold not his body warne 4 ; '80 he pricked forth on the plaine. then young Triamore that was stout, turned himselfe round about, & fast rode him againe ; The Prince of Navarne rides out ; Triamore charges him ; 784 soe neither of them were to ground cast, 5 they sate soe wonderous fast, like men of much might, then came forth a Bachelour, 6 "88 a prince proud without peere ; Sir lames, forsooth, he hight ; neither is thrown. Sir James of Almaigne he was the Emperours sonne of Almaigne 7 ; he rode Sir triamore 8 againe, 792 with hard strenght to fight. Sir lames had such a stroake indeed that he was tumbled from his steed ; then failed all his might. 796 there men might see swords brast, helmes ne sheilds might not last; & thus it dured till night ; next charge3 Triamore, and is un- horsed. The joust lasts till night. 1 Ca. puts this stanza after the next. -F. 2 Elyne. — Cop. 8 Armony. — Ca. Nauerne. — Cop. 4 A.-S. wamian, to take care of, beware. -F. 5 Ca. makes Triamore bear him down, and transfers this to Sir James in the nest stanza. — F. 6 batchelere. — Cop. 7 Almaine. — Cop. 8 ? MS. Triamoir.— F. 108 SIR TRIAMORE. Next day, but when the sun drew neere l west, 800 and all the Lords went to rerst, [Not so the maide Elyne. 2 ] the Knights attired them in good arraye, on steeds great, with, trappers 3 gaye, before the sun can 4 shine ; it begins again, and the knights charge fiercely. 804 then to the feeld the pricked prest, & euerje man thought himselfe best [As the mayden faire they paste. 2 ] then they feirclye ran together, great speres in peeces did shimmer, 5 808 their timber might not last. King Arradas is thrown by his son Triamore, & at that time there did run 6 the King Arradas of Arragon : his sonne Triiamore mett him in that tyde, 812 & gaue his father such a rebound that harse & man fell to the ground, 7 soe stoutly e gan he ryde. who also vanquishes Sir James. then the next Knight that hee mett 816 was Sir lames ; & such a stroake him sett vpon the sheild ther on the plaine that the blood brast out at his nose & eares, his steed vnto the ground him beares ; 820 then was Sir Barnard fame. Queen Helen falls in love with Triamore. that Maid of great honor sett her loue on younge triamore that fought alwayes as a feirce 8 Lyon. 1 ferre. — Cop. 2 This line is from Copland's text. — H. 3 The trappings of horses. Halliwell. — E. 4 gan. — Cop. 6 shyuer. — Cop. 6 dyde ronne. — Cop. 7 Tryamore must he supposed to have changed since the first day, when he was on his father's side: see 1. 763. In 1. 920, Arradas is accused of killing the Emperor's son, whom Triamore slays (1. 860-1), but he (Arradas) declares he had nothing to do with it, 1. 974-9. He only rescues his son from the Emperor's men, 1. 866-7.— E. 8 fyers. — Cop. SIR TRIAMORE. 109 824 speres that day many were spent, & with swords there was many a stripe lent, till the[re] failed light of the sunn. on the Morrow all they were faine 828 for to come into the feild againe with great spere & sheild. then the Duke of Sinille, Sir Phylar, 1 that was a doughtye knight in euerye warr, 832 he rode first into the feild ; Next day the Duke of Seville 836 & Triamore tooke his spere, against the Duke he can it beare, & smote him in the sheild ; a-sunder in 2 peeces it went ; & then many a louelye Lady gent, full well they him beheld. is charged by Triamore, and his shield split. 840 844 then came forth a K.night that hight Terrey, sirTerrey hee was a great Lord of Surrey, 2 Cpa s e 2 -^ of Syria he thought Noble Teiamore to assayle ; charges & Triamore rode to him blithe Triamore, in all the strenght that he might driue, he thought he wold not fayle ; he smote him soe in that stond that horsse & man fell to the ground, 3 soe sore his stroke he sett. and gets thrown. 848 then durst noe man att triamore [ride, 4 ] for fortune held all on his side all those dayes 3. 5 No one else will try Triamore ; 1 Syselle, sir Sywere.- sir Fylar. — Cop. -Ca. Cycyll, 2 The dewke of Lythyr, sir Tyrre. -Ca. . . . the dewke, bothe hors and man, Turnyd toppe ovyr tayle. — Ca. to Tryamoure ryde. — Cop. The Cambridge text makes Triamore 110 SIR TRIAMORE. but Sir James lies in wait for him, Sir lames, soime vnto the Emperour, 852 had enuye to Sir Triamore, and laid wait l for him priuilye. and runs him through the thigh, att the last Triamore came ryding bye. Sir lames said, " Triamore ! thou shalt dye, 856 for thou hast done me shame." he rode to Triamore with a spere, & thorrow 2 the thigh he can him beare ; he had almost him slaine. for which Triamore kills him, but is beset by his men. 860 but Tryamore hitt him in 3 the head that he fell downe starke dead. then was all his men woe ; then wold they haue slaine Tryamore 864 without he bad had great succour 4 ; they purposed to doe soe. Arradas rescues Triamore, and Sir Bernard takes him home. His mother sends for a doctor. The jousting knights ride to Queen Helen with that came TLing Arradas 5 then, & reschued Tryamore with all his men, 868 that stood in great doubt, then Sir Barnard was full woe that Tryamore was hurt soe ; then to his owne house he him brought. 872 but when the Mother saw her sonns wound, shee fell downe for sorrow to the ground, & after a Leeche shee sent. of 6 this, all the Lords that were 7 Iustinge, 876 to the pallace 8 made highinge, 9 & to that Ladye went. serve " the dewke of Aymere" as he served Terrey, and shiver the shield and spear of James of Almayne, p. 28-9 Percy Soe. ed.— P. 1 layde wayte. — Cop. 2 throughe. — Cop. 3 hvtt hym on. — Cop. 4 the greter socoure. — Cop. 5 Arragus. — Cop. 6 on or after. — F. 7 was at. — Cop. 8 pallayes. — Cop. hyenge. — Cop. SIR TRIAMORE. Ill truly, as the story sayes, the x pricked forth to the pallace 880 the Ladyes will to heare, Bachelours & knights prest, that shee might choose of them the best w7wch to her faynest were. to hear whom she will choose. 884 the Ladye beheld all that fayre Meanye, but Tryamore shee cold not see : tho chaunged all her cheere, then 2 shee sayd " Lore?, where is hee 3 888 that euerye day wan the degree ? I chuse him to my peere. 4 " She chooses Triamore. Where is he? al about 5 the Tryamore sought ; he was ryddn home ; the found him nought ; 892 then was that Ladye woe. the ~Knights were afore her brought, & of respite shee them besought, a yeare & noe more : 896 shee said, " Lords, soe god me saue ! he that wan me, he shall me haue ; ye wot well that my cry was soe." the all consented her vntill, 900 for shee 6 said Nothing ill, the said it shold be soe. He can't be found, so Helen asks for a year's delay, for when they had all sayd, then answered that fayre Mayd, 904 " I will haue none but Tryamore." then all the Lords that were present tooke their Leaue, & home went ; there wan the litle honor. she will have none but Triamore. 1 they. — Cop. 2 Tho.— Cop. 3 he.— Cop. 4 fere. — Cop. 5 All aboute. — Cop. 6 had inserted, — Cop. 112 SIE TRIAMOltE. Sir James's men carry his corpse to his father, the Emperor, 908 Sir lames men were nothing faine because their Master, he was slaine, That was soe stout in stowre ; in chaire his body the Layd, 912 & led him home, as I haue sayd, vnto his father the Emperour ; [page 223] and tell him that Triamore & when that hee his sonne gan see, a sorrye man then was hee, 916 & asked ' who had done that dishonor * ? ' the sayd " wee [ne] wott who it is I-wisse, 2 but Sir Tryamore he named is, soe the called him 3 in the crye ; and Arradas killed his son. The Emperor vows revenge, summons a host, and invades Arragon. 920 " the Kmg of Arragon alsoe, he helped thy 4 sonne to sloe, with all his company e." they said, " the be good warryoirs ; 924 they byte 5 vs with sharpe showers 6 with great villanye. 7 " " Alas ! " said the Emperour, " till I be reuenged on that tray tour, 928 now shall I neuer cease ! the shall haue many a sharpe shower, both the King & Tryamore, they shall neuer haue peace ! " 932 the Emperour sayd the shold repent ; & after great companye he sent of princes bold in presse, Dukes, Earles, & lords of price. 8 936 with a great armye, the Duke sayes, the yeed to Arragon without lesse. 1 dysshonour. — Cop. 2 has ywys. — Cop. 3 called the him. — Cop. 4 MS. the.— F. 5 bete. — Cop. 6 shoutes. — Cop. 7 vilany. — Cop. 8 pryse. — Cop. SIR TIUAMOKE. 113 King Arradas * was a-dread 2 for the Emperour such power had, 940 that hattell hee wold him bid 3 ; he saw his land nye oue>--gon, & to a castle hee fledd anon, & victualls * it for dread. Arradas takes refuge in his castle, 944 6 the Emperour was bold & stout, & beseeged the castle about ; his 6 banner he began to spread, & arrayd his host full well & wisely e, 948 with wepons strong & mightye he thought to make them dread. where the Emperor besieges him, the Emperour was bold & stout, & beseeged the castle about, 952 & his banner he gan to spread ; he gaue assault 7 to the hold. Kmg Arraclas was stout & bold, ordayned him full well. 8 and assaults it. Arradas 956 with gunes & great stones round were throwne downe to the ground, & on the men were cast ; they brake many backes & bones, 960 that they fought euerye[day 9 ] ones while 7 weekes did last. fires and hurls stonea on the besiegers. After seven weeks, 964 the Emperour was hurt ill therfore, his men were hurt sore, all his Ioy was past. 1 Aragus. — Cop. 2 a-dradde. — Cop. 3 bydde. — Cop. 4 vytaylled. — Cop. vetaylyd. — Ca. 5 This stanza, which seems super- fluous, is not in the Cambridge text. — F. VOL. II. 6 A letter like t, seemingly blotched out, precedes his in the MS. — F. 7 assalte. — Cop. 9 And defendyd hym full faste.— Ca. And ordered it full welle. Rawlinsou MS. (Percy Soc, p. 62).— F. 9 day.— Cop. 114 SIR TRIAMORE. Arradas TLing Arradas thought fall longe that hee was beseeged soe stronge, with, soe much might & maine : sends to 968 2 Lords forth a Message he sent, the Emperor & straight to the Emperour the ' went, soe when they cold him see, of peace 2 they can him pray, 3 972 to take truce 4 till a certaine day. the kneeled downe on their knee, to say that he did not slay his son , and to propose a settlement of their quarrel by single combat ; if the Emperor's knight wins Arradas will give in ; if Arradas's knight wins, & said, " our 'King sendeth word to thee that he neue?* jour sonne did slay, 5 976 soe he wold quitt him faine ; he was not then present, nor did noe wise 6 consent that jour sonne was slaine. 980 That [he] will proue, if you will soe, jour selfe and he betweene you tow, if you will it sayne ; " or else take jour selfe a K.night, 984 & he will gett another to fight on a certaine day : if that jour ~Knight hap soe ours for to discomfort or sloe, 988 as by fortune itt may, our ~King then will doe jour will, be att yowr bidding lowde & still without more delay ; 992 " & alsoe if it you betyde that jour 'knight on jour sjde be slaine by Mischance, [page 224 1 y y . — Cop. " peas.— Cop. 3 Only the long part of the y is in the MS.— F. 4 treues.— Cop. 5 sle. — Cop. 6 noe wise did. — Cop. 8IK TKIAMOHE. 115 096 My Lord shall make jour warr to cease, 1 [and we shall after be at pease, 2 ] w/thout any distance. 3 " the Emperor shall stop his siege. 1000 the Emperour said 4 without fayle " sett a day of Battell by assent of the Kmg of france ; " for he had a great Campiowne, 5 in euerye realme he wan 6 renowne ; soe the Emperour ceased his distance. The Emperor agrees, as he has a famous champion. when peace was made, & truce came, 7 1 004 then Kmg Arradas were 8 a Ioyfull man, & trusted vnto Tryamore. Soe after him he went w/thout fayle, for to doe the great battelle 1008 to his helpe & succour. Arradas sends for Triamore to fight for him, 1012 his Messengers were come & gone, ty dings of him hard 9 the none. the Kmg Arradas thought him long, " & he be dead, I may say alas ! who shall then fight with Marradais that is soe stout & stronsre ? " but can hear no tidings of him, when Tryamore was whole l0 & sound, 1016 & well healed of his wound, ho busked him for to fare ; Triamore gets well, 1 sease. — Cop. 2 This line is from Copland's text. — H. II ( prcyeth yow that ye wyll cese, And let owre londys be in pees. — Ca. 3 " Dystaunce, supra in Debate vel Dyscorde (discidia)." Promptorium. Fr. distance, difference. Cotgrave. — F. 4 We keep the said of the MS., though it is not wanted, and the Cambridge text has not got it. — F. 5 Champion. MS. campanye. — F. Company. — Cop. 6 the.— Cop. ' fcreues tane. — Cop. 8 was. — Cop. 9 herde.— Cop. •• hole.— Cop. i 2 116 SIR TRIAMORE. and asks his mother who his father is. he sayd, "mother," with mild cheere, " & I wist what my father were, 1020 the lesse were my care." His mother will not tell him till he marries. " sonne," so he starts for Arragon. On his way he sets his greyhounds at a hart, and is attacked by fourteen foresters. Triamore tries to pacify them, offers them all hia money. 1024 1028 1032 shee said, " thou shalt witt ; when l thou hast Marryed that Ladye sweet, thy father thou shalt ken." " mother," he said, "if you will [soe, 2 ] haue good clay, for now I goe to doe my Masteryes if I can. 3 " then rode he ouer dale & downe vntill he came to Arragon, ouer many a weary way. aduentures many him befell, & all he scaped full well, in all his great Iourney. he saw many a wild beast both in heath & in forrest ; he had good grey-hounds 3 ; then to a hart he let them run till 14 fosters spyed him soone, soe threatened him greatlye ; they yeede to him with weapons on euerye side ; it was noe boote to bid them byde ; Tryamore was loth to flye, & said vnto them, " Lortfa, I you pray, lett me in peace wend my way 1044 to seeke my grayhounds 3." then said Tryamore as in this time, " gold & siluer, take all mine if 4 that I haue tresspassed ought," 1036 1040 1 Whan. — Cop. 2 soo. — Ca. 3 and speke wyth my leminan.- * Of.— Cop. -Ca. SIR TRIAMORE. 117 1048 The said, "wee will meete with, thy anon, [page 225] there shall noe gold borrow thee soone, 1 but in prison thou shalt be brought, Such is the law of the ground ; 2 1052 Whosoeuer therin may be found, other way goe the nought." then Sir Tryamore was full woe t hat to prison he shold goe; 1056 hee thought the flesh to deare bought, there was no more to say, the fosters att him gan lay with strokes sterne and stout. 1060 there Tryamore with them fought ; some to the ground be brought ; he made them lowe to looke ; some of them fast gan pray, 1064 the other fled fast away with wounds wyde that they sought. 3 Tryamore sought & found 4 his gray-hounds ; he hear[k]ned to their yerning 5 sounds, 1068 & thought not for to leaue them soe. at last he came to a water side ; there he saw the beast abyde that had slaine 2 of his grayhounds ; 1072 the 3^ full sore troubled the hind, & he hurt him with his trinde 6 ; then was Tryamore woe. if the battaile had lasted a while, 1076 the hart wold the hound beguile, 7 & take his life for euermore. They refill- it, and threaten to prison him. Triamore is attacked by the foresters, and soon discomfits them, but finds two of his greyhounds slain by a hart, and the other wounded. 1 ? MS. : it may be meant for frome ; but one stroke of the m is missing. — F. 2 Ca. has "ye must lese yowre ryght honde."— F. 3 ? tooke.— F. 4 rod and sought. — Cop. 5 ? running. — F. 8 One stroke of the n is wanting in the MS. Ca. has Tyndys, branches of the antlers. — F. 7 begyle. — Cop. 118 SIR TRIAMORE. Triamore kills the deer, blows his horn, and king Arradas hears it. Tryamore smote att the deere, and 1 to the hart went the spere ; 1080 then his home he blew full sore, the King Lay there beside at Mannowr 2 that same tide ; he hard a home blowe : A forester runs in, 1084 they had great wonder in hall, both Knights, Squiers, 3 & all, for noe man cold it know. With that ran in a foster 1088 into the hall with euill cheere, & was full sorry, I trow. tells the king that his keepers have been slain by the knight the King of tydings gan him fraine ; he answered, " Sir King, jour Keepers be slaine, 1092 and lye dead on a rowe. there came a knight that was mightye, he let 3 grayhonnds that were wightye, & laid my fellowes full lowe : " that blew the horn. Arradas says he wants such a man.. 1096 he sayd, it was full true that the same that the home blew that all this sorrow hath wrought. King Arradas said then, 1100 " I haue great need of such of a man ; god hath him hither brought." and tells three knights to fetch him. the King commanded Knights 3, he said, " goe 4 feitch yond gentleman to me 1104 that is now at his play ; looke noe ill words with him yee breake, but pray him with me for to speake ; I trow he will not say nay." 1 One stroke of the n missing in the MS.— F. 2 maner. — Cop. 3 Squiers, knights. — Cop. 4 MS. god.— F. SIR TRIAMORE. 119 1108 Euerye knight his steed hent, & lightlye to the wood l the went to seeke Tryamore that child, the found him by a water side 1112 where he brake the beast 2 that tyde, that hart that was soe wylde. the said, " Sir ! god be at yowr game! " he answered them euen the same ; 1116 then was he frayd of guile. " S " Heeres my hand," quoth our King, "that was I [page 236] euer." "nay, soft," qztoth the Miller, "thou mayst be a sprite ; better He know thee ere hands I will shake ; but , t 36 with none but honest men hands will I take." SMS** ' MS. vpom.— F. 2 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 150 KINGE AND MILLER, They go into the Miller's smoky house, 40 Thus they went all alonge into the Millers house, where they were seeding * of puddings & souce. 2 the Miller first entered in, then after went the King ; neuer came he in soe smoakye a house. 3 " now," quoth hee, "let me see heere what you are." Quoth, our King, "looke you[r] fill, & doe not spare." 44 and the wife asks if the King is a runaway. Where is his passport ? 48 " I like well thy countenance ; thou hast an honest fac[e] ; with my sonne Richard this night thou shalt Lye." Qtioth his wiffe, " by my troth it is a good hansome yout[h] ; yet it is best, husband, to deale warrilye. art thou not a runaway ? I pray thee, youth, tell ; show vs thy pasport & all shalbe well." He has none, as he is a ccurtier. The Miller thinks the King behaves well to his betters, Then our King presentlye, making lowe curtesie, with his hatt in his hand, this he did say : " I haue noe pasport, nor neuer was seruitor, 52 but a poore Courtyer rode out of the way ; & for jouv kindnesse now offered to me, I will requite it in euerye degree." 10 Then to the Miller his wiffe whisperd secretlye, 56 saing, " it seemeth the youth is of good kin both by his apparell & by his Manners ; to turne him out, certainely it were a great sin." " yea," quoth hee, " you may see hee hath some grace, 60 when as he speaks to his betters in place." 11 "Well," q?toththe Millers wiffe, "younge man, welcome heer[e] ! & tho I sayt, well lodged shalt thou be ; 1 seething, boiling. — F. 2 The head, feet, and ears of swine boi'ed and pickled for eating. Halli- well.— F. 3 See Forewords to Babees Boke, p. lxiv.— F. KINGE AND MILLER. 151 fresh straw I will lay vpon yo«r bed soe braue, and he may 64 good browne hempen sheetes likwise," Quoth, shee. on straw 7 and hemp " I," quoth the goodrnan, " & when that is done, sheets with their son, thou shalt lye noe worse then onr owne Sonne." 12 " Nay first," quoth Richard, "good fellowe, tell me trne, 68 hast thou noe creepers in thy gay hose ? if he has no . - creepers in art thou not troubled with the Scabbado i r his breeches, "pray you," quoth the K.ing, "what things are those ? art thou not lowsye nor scabbed ? " qwoth hee ; and is not scabbed. 72 " if thou beest, surely thou lyest not wtth me. 13 This caused our Kmg suddenly to laugh most hartilye till the teares trickled downe from his eyes, then to there supper were the sett orderlye, They sup on bag- 76 to hott bag puddings & good apple pyes ; puddings, . apple pies, nappy ale, good & stale, in a browne bowle, and nappy w7a'ch did about the bord Merrilye troule. 14 "Heere," quoth the Miller, " good fellowe, He drinke TheMiiier ' u ' b drinks to the to thee Kin g> 80 & to all the courtnolls ^7iat curteous bee." "I pledge thee," quoth our ~King, "& thanke thee and the King to him heartilye for my good welcome in euerye degree ; & heere in like manner I drinke to thy sonne." and his son. 84 " doe then," saies Richard, " & quicke let it come." 15 " Wiffe," q«oth the Miller, " feitch me forth lightfoote, The Miller £7iat wee of his sweetnesse a litle may tast." Lightfoot. a faire venson pastye shee feiched forth presentlye. 1 MS. may be Scolloado. See Forewords to Babees Boke, 1 868, p. lxiv. — F, 152 KINGE AND M1LLEE. The King likes it immensely. 88 " eate," quoth, the Miller " but first make noe wast ; heer is dainty Lightfoote." " infaith," quoth, our King, " I neuer before eate of soe dayntye a thinge." Where can he buy some? It's the King's deer from Sherwood. 16 " Iwis," said Richard, "noe dayntye att all it is, 92 for wee doe eate of it euerye day." " in what place," sayd our King, " may be bought lik to th[is ?] " " wee neuer pay peennye for it, by my fay ; from merry Sherwood wee feitch it home heerc ; 96 now & then we make bold with our Kings deere." Don't tell him. 100 17 " Then I thinke," quoth, our King, " that it is Venison." " eche foole," quoth. Richard, " full well may see that ; neuer are we w/thout 2 or 3 in the rooffe, verry well fleshed & exellent ffatt. but I pray thee say nothing where-ere thou goe, we wold not for 2 pence the King shold it know." Certainly not, says the King. Next morning the nobles find the King at the Miller's house, and fall on their knees before him. 18 " doubt not," saies l our King, " my promised secresye ; 104 the King shall neuer know more ont for mee." a cupp of lambes woole 2 they dranke vnto him, & to their bedds the past presentlye. the Nobles next Morning went all vp & downe 108 for to seeke the King in euerye towne; 1 9 [page 237] At last, att the Miller's house soone the did spye him plaine, as he was mounting vpon his faire steede ; to whome the came presentlye, falling downe on their knees, 1 MS. saiy.— F. 2 A favourite liquor among the com- mon people, composed of ale and roasted apples ; the pulp of the roasted apple worked up with the ale, till the mixture formed a smooth beverage. Nares. — F. KINGE AXD MILLEK. 153 112 which, made the Millers hart wofullye bleed. Shaking & quaking before him he stood, thinking he shold be hanged by the rood. The Miller quakes. 20 The K[ing] perceiuing him fearfully tremblinge, 116 drew forth his sword, but nothing he said ; the Miller downe did fall crying before them all, doubtinge l the King wold cut of his head. but he, his kind curtesie for to requite, 120 gaue him great liuing, & dubd him a Knight. 21 When as our noble King came from Kottingam, & with his nobles in Westminster Lay, recounting the sports & the pastime the had tane 124 in this late progresse along on the way; of them all, great & small, hee did protest the Miller of Mansfeild liked him best ; The King draws his sword. The Miller expects to have his head cut off> but is knighted. At West- minster, afterwards, 22 "And now, my Lorrfs," qwoth the King, "I am de- termined, 128 against St. Georges next sumptuous feast, that this old Miller, our youngest confirmed Knight, with, his sonne Richard, shalbe both my guest ; for in this merryment it is my desire 132 to talke with this Iollye Knight & the younge squier." 23 When as the Noble Lords saw the Kings merriment, the were right Ioyfull & glad in their harts. a Pursiuant the sent straight on this busines, 136 the w7«'ch oftentimes vsed those parts. when he came to the place where he did dwell, His message merrilye then he did tell. the King resolves to ask the Miller and his son up to a feast. A pur- suivant is sent with the invita- tion, 1 fearing. — F. 154 KIXGE AM) MILLER. which he delivers in due form. 24 " God saue jour worsliippe," then said the messenger, 140 " & grant jour Ladye l her owne harts desire ; & to jour sonne Richard good fortune & happinesse, that sweet younge gentleman & gallant squier ! our 'King greets you well, & thus doth say, 144 ' you must come to the court on St. Georges day ' ; At first the Miller is half afraid, but on hearing of the feast 148 25 " Therfore in any case fayle not to be in place." " I- wis," quoth the Miller, "it is an odd lest ! what shold wee doe there ? " he sayd, "infaith I am halfe afraid." "I doubt," quoth. Richard, "to be hanged att the least." " nay," q^wth the Messenger, " you doe mistake ; our Kmg prepares a great feast for jour sake." gives the pursuivant three farthings, 26 "Then," said the Miller, "now by my troth, Mes- senger, 152 thou hast contented my worshipp full well : hold ! there is 3 farthings to quite thy great gentleness for these happy tydings which thou dost me tell, let me see ! hearest thou me ? tell to our King, and promises 156 weele wayte on his Mastershipp in euerye thing:." to come. J rr J ° The pursuivant reports all to the King. 160 27 The pursivant smyled at their simplicitye ; & making many 2 leggs, tooke their reward, & takeing then his leaue with great humilitye, to the Kings court againe hee repayred, showing vnto his grace in euerye degree the Knights most liberall giffts & great bountye. 1 ? MS. Ladyes.— F. 2 Only half the n in the MS.— F. KINGE AM) MILLER. l.j.J 28 When hee was gone away, thus can the Miller say, 164 " heere comes expences & charges indeed ! The Miller now must wee needs be braue, tho wee spend all wee Euy P new ° , clothes, liaue ; horses, &c. for of new garments wee haue great need, of horsses & serving men wee must haue store, 168 with bridles & sadles & 20'^ e things more." 172 29 " Tushe, Sir Iohn," qnoth his whTe, " neither doe frett nor frowne ! you shall bee att noe more charges of mee ! for I will turne & trim vp my old russett gowne, with euerye thing else as fine as may bee ; & on our Mill horsses full swift wee will ryd, with pillowes & pannells as wee shall provyde." His wife dissuades him. She'll trim up the old clothes, and they'll ride their mill-horses. 30 In this most statelye sort the rod vnto the court, 176 their lusty sonne 'Richard formost of all, who sett vp by good hap a cockes fether in his cappe ; & soe the ietted downe towards the Kmgs hall, the Merry old Miller with his hands on his side, 180 his wiffe like Maid Marryan did Mince at that tyde. Thus they go to court. 184 31 The King & his nobles that hard of their coming, meeting this gallant Knight with this braue traine, "welcome, Sir 'Knight,'" qwoth hee, "w/th this jour The King T -i i welcomes gay Lady ! them> good Sir Iohn Cockle, once welcome againe ; & soe is this squier of courage soe free ! " Qtwth dicke, " abotts on you ! doe you know me ? " 32 Quoth our King gentlye, " how shall I forgett thee ? 188 thou wast my owne bed- fellow ; well that I wot, and assures Richard that he 156 KINGE AND MILLER. remembers him. The King conducts them to table, but I doe thinke on a tricke ; tell me, pray thee, dicke, how with farting we made the bed hott." " thon horson happy knane," the[n] qiiotla. the Knight, 192 " speake cleanly to our [king now,] or else goe shite ! " 33 [page 238] The king and his councellors hartilye laugh at this, while the K»j tooke them by the hand, with Ladyes & their maids, like to the Queene of spades 196 the Millers wiffe did most orderlye stand ; a milkemaids curtesye at euurye word, & downe these folkes were set to the bord, and after dinner drinks to the Miller, and wants some of his venison. 34 Where the 'King royally with princely Maiestye 200 sate at his dinner with Ioy & delight. when he had eaten well, to resting then hee fell ; taking a bowle of wine, dranke to the Kniglit, " heeres to you both ! " he sayd, "in ale, wine, & beere, 204 thanking you hartilye for all my good cheere." 35 Qitoth Sir Iohn Cockle, " He pledge you a pottle, were it the best ale in Nottingam-shire." "but then," said our King, "I thinke on a thinge, 208 some of yowr lightfoote I wold we had heere." " ho : ho : " Quoth Richard!, " full well I may say it ; its knauerye to eate it & then to bewray it." He asks Richard to pledge him. Dick says he must finish his dinner first ; he wants a black pudding, 36 " What ! art thou hungry ? " qzwth our King merrilye, 212 " infaith I take it verry vnkind ; I thought thou woldest pledg me in wine or ale heartil[y.] " "yee are like to stay," qitoth Dicke, "till I haue dind , you feed vs with twatling dishes soe small. 216 zounds ! a blacke pudding is better then all;" The Miller and Richard dance with the ladies, KINGE AND MILLER. 157 37 " I, marry," qiioth our Kmg, " that were a daintye thing, if wee cold gett one heere for to eate." with that, dicke straight arose, & phicket one out of and puIls i • i r -i one outoE his h|_OSe,J his breeches. 220 w7i/ch with heat of his breech began for to sweate. the Km*/ made prefer to snatch it away ; "That's meat " its meate for yo«r Master, good Sir, you shall stay ! " master, sir King." 3S Thus with great merriment was the time l wholy spent ; 224 & then the Ladyes prepared to dance. old Sir Iohn 2 Cockle & Richard incontinent vnto this practise the King did advance, where-with the Ladyes such sport the did make, 228 the Nobles with laughing did make their heads ake. the nobles laugh. 39 Many thankes for their paines the Kmg did giue them then, asking; young Richard if he wold be wed : ° J ° . TheKing " amongst these ladyes faire, tell me which liketh thee." asks Dick ° J which lady 232 Quoth hee, " Iugg Grumball with the red head : he'd like. °° Jugg shees my loue ; shees my liffe ; her will I wed ; withttf 11 ed shee hath sworne I shall haue her maidenhead." head." 40 Then Sir Iohn Cockle the King called vnto him ; 236 & of Merry sherwood made him ouerseer, makes 'the TVTi 1 1 pt* & gaue him out of hand 300 1 ! yearlye, overseer of en jiit i r. i Sherwood, but now take neede you steale noe more of my deere ! and warns him not to & once a quarter lets heare haue yowr vew ; steal any deer. 240 & thus, Sir Iohn Cockle, I bid thee adew ! " ffins. 1 A y has been altered into part of 2 Only half the n in the MS. — F. the m in the MS.— F. [" PcmcJie" printed in Lo. and Hum. Songs, p. 61, follows here in the MS.] 158 gguumirte BattelL 1 Agincourt must have been a tempting theme to the ballad- writer and poet of its day. The splendid pluck with which the little English army, wasted by dysentery, ill-fed, and harassed by loncf marches and hostile skirmishers, nevertheless went at its enemies, facing the terrible odds of more than six to one, and put to ignominious rout the vaunting knights of France, must have appealed to the English heart and the English pride, and ought to have been worthily sung. The ballad-writer especially was bound to take it up, for the class he wrote for led the van and won the field. As at Crecy, as at Poictiers, so at Agincourt, the English yeomen humbled the gentlemen of France. Like the feu d'enfer of our rifles at Inkerman, the hail of yeomen's arrows gained England honour in the olden hard-fought field. But though at Agincourt the rout of the first division of the French army was due solely to our bowmen, against the second, squire and knight, noble and king did well their part too — none better than the Harry who said " We will not lose," and gave the battle lastingly the name of Azincourt. To the valour of all was due the flight of the French third division, which, though more than double the number of the English host, feared to face their arrows and their swords, and gallopped off the field. That " the people of England were literally mad with joy and triumph " at the victory — rushing into the sea to meet Henry, and carrying him on shore on their shoulders — we do not wonder ; but it is somewhat odd that no better ballad or poem on the battle should have come down to us, though in a play Shakspeare has done it justice. The ballads known to me are only — 1 In the printed Collection of Old Ballads, 1726, vol. ii. p. 79, No. xii. AGINCODRTB BATTELL. 159 1. The Deo gratias, Anglia, redde -pro victoria! printed by- Percy in his Reliques, vol. ii. p. 24, " from a MS. copy in the Pepys collection, vol. i., folio," and to which the musical notes of the MS. are given in vol. ii. p. 24 of the second edition of the Reliques. 2. The present copy, having seven stanzas more than, but being otherwise nearly the same as, that in the Crown Garland of Golden Roses, ed. 1569 (p. 69 of the Percy Soc. reprint), the Collection of Old Ballads, 1726-38, vol. ii. p. 79, No. xii. ; Evans, vol. ii. p. 351, &c. 3. The Three Man's Song, — far the best of the lot, — the first verse of which is quoted in Heywood's King Edward IV. ed. 1600 (p. 52 of the Shakspere Soc. reprint), and the whole of which is printed from a black-letter copy (about 1665, Mr. Collier tells me) in Collier's Shakspere, ed. 1858, vol. iii. p. 538. Its title is " Agin Court, or the English Bowman's Glory : " to a pleasant new Tune. London, printed for Henry Harper in Smithfield. It is a broadside, aud contains eleven seven-line stanzas. It begins " Agincourt ! Agincourt ! Know ye not Agincourt?" 4. The ballad No. 286 in the Halliwell Collection in Chetham's Library, Manchester, entitled, " King- Henry V., his Conquest of France in Revenge for the Affront offered by the French King in sending him instead of the Tribute a Ton of Tennis Balls." It begins, " As our King lay musing on his bed ; " and two versions different from it and from one another are given in Nicolas, Appendix, p. 78, and p. 80, ed. 1832. 5. The Cambro-Britoits Bcdlad of Agincourt, by Michael Drayton, ib. p. 83. Nos. 3 and 4 will be printed at the end of this volume. Of Poems, there are : 1. a. That attributed to Lydgate, in three Passus, in Harl. MS. 5G5, fol. 102-14, beginning ' ; God |?at alle ]?is world gan make," and printed among the illustrations of The Chronicle of London, 4to, 1827, and in Nicolas, p. 301-29. /?. "The Siege of Har- riet, & Batayl of Agencourt, by K. Hen. 5:" another copy of L3'dgate's poem, says Nicolas (p. 301), but differing from it so materially that it was necessary to print it as notes to the corresponding passages of the other. It was printed by Hearne at p. 359-75 of bis edition of Elmharrfs Life of Henry V., from the since burnt Cotton MS., Vitellius D. xii. fol. 214 b. Extracts from it are given by Nicolas, p. 301-29. 7. The Batayll of Egyngecourt, and the great Sege of Rouen. Impryntyd by John Skot [about 1530 a.d.]. Re- printed in Nicolas, and in Mr. W. C. Hazlitt's Remains of the 160 AGINCOURTE BATTELL. Early Popular Poetry of England, vol. ii. p. 88-108. is, says Nicolas ( App. p. 69), " merely another, though a very differen version of the one " attributed to Lydgate. 2. Drayton's Battaile of Agincovrt, 1627. (Besides The Lay of Agincourt, Edinburgh, 1819 (a very poor performance), and possibly other modern productions.) Of Dramas, we find : 1. The Famous Victories of Henry the Fifth : Containing the Honourabell Battell of Agin-court: as it was plaide by the Queene's Maiesties Players. London, Printed by Thomas Creede, 1598, 4to, 26 leaves. Bodleian. (Malone). 1 2. The Chronicle History of Henry the Fift, With his Battell fought at Agin Court in France. Togither with auncient Pis- toll. 1600 : the first cast of Shakspere's Henry V. 2 In prose, a full and admirable account of the battle, with con- temporary accounts and plentiful extracts from historians, is given by Sir Nicholas Harris Nicolas in his History of the Battle of Agincourt, and of the Expedition of Henry V. into France in 1415, (2nd ed., 1832; 3rd, 1838); and from this book it may be worth while just to run through the points of our ballad, and see how far they are borne out by facts. The Council of line 1, Nicolas thinks was the parliament which met in November 1514, which elected Chaucer's son Thomas its Speaker, and voted the King supplies for the defence of the kingdom of England and the safety of the seas. But it may have been a smaller Council, no doubt held before the Commission of the 31st of May, 1514, absurdly claiming the French crown, was issued to the Bishops of Durham and Norwich, the Earl of Salisbury, Eichard Lord Grey, &c. — whom Monstrelet calls le Comte dJOvurset, oncle du Roy d'Angleterre, le Comte de Qrez, V Admiral d'Angleterre, les Euesques du Dumelin et de Noruegue, et plusieurs autres iusques au nombre de six cens cheuaux ou environ (vol. i. p. 216, ed. 1595) — and who were so hospitably entertained in Paris. The great Council at which the arrange- 1 Hazlitt's Handbook. • Bonn's Lowndes, p. 2280, col. 2. AGINCOURTE BATTELL. 1G1 merits for the expedition were made was held at Westminster on three successive days, April 16, 17, 18, a.d. 1415, directly after the despatch of Henry's second letter to Charles. The story of the scornful treatment of the ambassadors in 1. 16-28 is belied by Monstrelet's account of the moult notable feste dedans Paris en boyres, mangers, joustes, dances et autres esbatemens, at which the English ambassadors were present ; and there seems no foundation whatever for the present of the tennis balls, which would have gone directly counter to the French King's policy, letters, and interest. But still his young son may have been saucy,, and have sent a saucy message to Henry. The story was believed to be true at the time or soon after ; it is mentioned by Elmham in his Latin-verse life of Henry V ' (though not in his prose life), and a long account of it is given in a middle fifteenth-century Cotton MS. (Claudius A. viii.) which Sir H. Nicolas prints, and which, as I had to refer to it to correct his cornet to the MS. scorne, I add here too : And tka« the dolphine of Fraunce aunswered to our embassatours, and said in this maner, ' that the kyng was oner yong and to tender of age to make any warre ayens hyni, and was not lyke yet to be noo good werrioure to doo and to make suche a conquest there vpon hym. And somwhat in scorne and dispite he sente to hym a tonne tulle of tenys ballis, be-cause he wolde haue some-what for to play w/t7(alle for hym and for his lordis, and that be-came hym better than to mayntayn any werre. And than anone oure lordes that was embassatours token hir leue and comen in to England ayenne, and tolde the kyng and his counceille of the vngoodly aunswer that they had of the Dolphy«, and of the present the whiche he had sent vnto the kyng. And whan y e kyng had hard her wordis, and the answere of the Dolpynne, he was wondre sore agreued, and righte euelle apayd towarde the frensshemen, and toward the kyng, and the Dolphynne, and thoughte to auenge hym vpon hem as sone as good wold send hym grace and myghte ; and anon lette make tenys ballis for the Dolpynne in all the hast that the myghte be made, and they were grete gonne stones for the Dolpynne to play wythe-alle. (fol. 1, back.) 1 Printed in Coles's Memorials of Henri/ V. VOL. II. Jl 162 AGINCOURTE BATTELL. This Dauphin was Louis, eldest son of Charles VI., then between eighteen and nineteen years of age. He was born on January 22, 1396, and died before his father, without issue, on December 18, 1415, in his twentieth year (Nicolas). But as Henry V. was eight years older than the Dauphin, having been born in 1388, it is not likely that he would have taunted Henry with his youth. Lines 33-40 : Henry exerted himself greatly to get his army together, and had to pledge his crowns, his jewels, plate, &c. to his men to guarantee them their wages. Nobody would move without taking security from him. He sailed from South- ampton on August 7, 1415, with a fleet of between 1200 and 1400 vessels of various sizes, from 20 to 300 tons, according to Nicolas. Lingard makes the fleet 1500 sail, carrying 6000 men-at-arms and 2400 archers. The army landed at Clef de Caus, or Kideaux, on August 15 ; on the 19th arrived before Harfleur, and at once laid siege to it. On " the English balls," 1. 34, and missiles, Laboureur states that, among other engines, the English had some which threw stones of a monstrous size, and projected entire millstones (des meules toutes entieres), which threw down the walls with a frightful noise, so that by the Feast of the Assumption (August 15, a wrong date) all their batteries were destroyed. I find nothing about the "great gunn of Calais " of 1.49; but on September 17 at midnight the French mes- sengers came to treat with Henry ; and as the town was not relieved by September 22, the Lord de (xaucourt and thirty- four of the noblest persons of the town then surrendered it to him. He turned out the inhabitants (1. 58) to the number of 2000, besides citizens, 60 knights, and more than 200 other gentry; left in the town more than the 300 Englishmen of our ballad, 1. 59, even, 1 " under the captain 2 (Sir John Blount, says 1 There is a muster-roll of the garrison 22 knights, 273 men-at-arms, and 798 of Harfleur, under the Earl of Dorset, archers. Most of these, we may presume, taken in the months of January, Feb- had been left behind when the King ruary, and March, immediately following marched on to Agincourt. Hunter, p. 55. the battle. It consisted of 4 barons, 2 )?elordBeauford,Harl.MS.575,f. 75 b. AGINCOURTE BATTELL. 163 Monstrelet), certain barons and knights skilful in affairs of war, with 300 lances, and 900 archers on pay " {Nicolas, p. 217), and marched out himself on October 7 with " not above 900 lances and 5000 archers," says a writer who was with him. Nicolas puts the force at from 6000 to 9000 fighting men. Lines 61-4 of the ballad are not true, for Henry's movements were watched, his stragglers cut off, and the country laid waste before him. He was repulsed in his first attempts to cross the Somme, between October 12 and 18 ; but on the 19th, finding a ford not staked, his army got over ; on the 24th reached Maisoncelles, and on the 25th fought the battle. The 600,000 French of 1. 72 is of course an exaggeration, a has been added for effect. 1 The message and answer of lines 73-88 are not historical, though the following particulars are nearly so, and the 10,000 killed of 1. 137 is borne out by Nicolas's conclusion, that the whole of the French loss on the field was between 10,000 and 11,000 men. The Duke of Yorke of line 117 was " Edward, Duke of York, son of Edmund of Langley, Duke of York, son of King Edward III., and cousin german to the King. He indented on April 29 to serve with 1 banneret, 4 knights, 94 esquires, and 300 mounted archers. His contingent, in the indenture of jewels, is said to have been 99 lances and 300 archers. He had one of the crowns in pledge. He went on with the King to Agincourt, where he lost his life " {Hunter, p. 22). On the Wednesday before the battle, says Monstrelet, i. 227, "le due d'Yorch, son oncle, mena?it l'auawtgarde, se logea a Frene^ch sur la riuiere de Cauche." This leadership of the vanguard the Duke kept on the 25th, and as the Cotton MS. already quoted from narrates his asking for it, and the events of the battle, I copy a page and a half of it from leaves 3 and 4. 1 The highest number in any of the other persons. Note to Hardyngfs sixteen chronicles that Nicolas gives Chronicle, ' according to the computation (p. 133, ed. 1832) is "3 Dukes, •') Counts, of the Heralds.'" 150,000 occurs to a 'JO Barons, 1050 Knights, and 100,000 doubtful list. Nicolas, p. 370. M -1 164 AGINCOURTE BA.TTELL. And the duke of yorke felle on knees and besougkte the kyng of a hone, that he wold graunte hym that day the avaunteward in his hatayle. And the kyng graunted hym his askyng, And sayd, " graunte mercy, cosen of yorke," and prayd hym to make hym redy. And than he bad euery man to ordeyne a stake of tre, and sharpe bothe endes that the stake myghte be pyghte in the ye-^rthe a slope, that hir enemies shuld not ouer-come hem on horsbak, ffor that were hir fals purpose, and araide hem alle there for to ouer-ryde our meyne sodenly at the fyrst comyng on of hem at the fyrst brount : and al nyghte be-ffore the bataile ]> e ffrenshemen made many grete tiers and moche reuelle, with howtyng and showtyng, and plaid oure kyng and his lordis at the dise, and an archer alway for a blanke 2 of hir money, ifor they wenden alle had bene heres. the morne arose, the day gan spiyng, And the kyng by goode auise let araie his batayle 3 and his wenges, and charged euery man to kepe hem hole to-geders, and praid hem alle to be of good chere. And whan they were redy, ho asked what tyme of the day it was, And they sayd prime. Than said oure kyng, "now is good tyme ! For alle England praythe for vs ; and therfore be of good chere, and let vs goo to oure iorney." And than he said with an highe vois, " in the name 4 of almyghtey god and seynt George, avaunt Baner! and seint george this day be thyne helpe ! " And than these ffrenshmen come prikyng doune as they wolde haue ouer-ridden alle oure meyne. But god and oure archers made hem sone to stomble ; ffor oure archers shett neuer arow a-mys, but yt persshed and broughte to grounde man and hors ; ffor they "pat day shoten for a wager. And oure stakes mad hem stoppe, & ouer-terned eche on oothir that they lay on hepes two spere lenghthe of heyghte. And oure kyng with his meyne and with his men of armes and archiers that thakked 5 on theym so thykke with arowes, and leyd on with strokes, and oure kyng withe his owne hondes faughte manly. And thus almyghtey god and seynt George broughte oure enymies to grounde and yaf vs that day ]> e victorie. and there were slayne of ffrenshmen that day in the felde of Agincourte mo thanne A xi M 11 withe prisoners that were taken. And there were nombred that day of ffrenshmen in the felde mo than six score thou- 1 MS. fol. 3, back. 3 The main body under his own com- 2 Fr. Blanc, the halfe of a Sol, a peece maud. The vanguard as the right wing dl' money which we call also, a blanke. under the Duke of York, the rearguard Sol, a Sous, or the French shilling, as the left wing under Lord Camois. whereof terme make ono of ours. — Cot- 4 MS. mame. grave. 6 thwacked, beat, pattered. AGINCOURTE BATTELL. 165 sand, and of Englishemen nat vij M u ; but god that day faughte for vs. And after cam ther tydynges to oure kyng that there was a new batayle of ffrenshemen redy to stele on hym, and comen towardis \_fol. 4.] hym. Anone our kyng let crie that euery man shuld slee his prisoners that he had take ; and anon araid his bataille ayenne to fighte with the frenshmen. And whanne they sawe that our men kylled doune her prisoners, thanne they w&tMrowe hem, and brake hir bataille and alle hir Array. And this oure kyng, as a worthy conqueror, had that day the victorye in the felde of Agencourt in Picardie. 1 The Duke of Orleance, 1. 149, though he was taken prisoner in the battle, is not named by Monstrelet as the leader of the attack on Henry's camp : Et adonc vindrent nouuelles au Roy Anglois, que les Francois les assailloient par derriere : & qu'ils auoient desia prins ses sommiers & autres bagues, laquelle chose estoit veritable : car Robinet de Bournonuille, Rifflart de Clamasse, Ysambart d'Azincourt, & aucuns autres ho?«mes d'armes, accompagnez de six cens paisans, allerent ferir au bagaige dudit Roy d'Angleterre. Et prindrent lesdites bagues, & autres choses, auec grand nombre de cheuaux desdits Anglois, entre-temps que les gardes d'iceux estoient occupez en la bataille. Monstrelet, vol. i. p. 229. The 200,000 French prisoners is an impossible number, and Nicolas does not give any at all. The highest estimate of the English loss is 1600 men. From Agincourt Henry marched to Calais, where he arrived on October 29. On November 14 he crossed the Channel to Dover, and on the 24th entered London in triumph : the Cite of london, where ]>at there was shewed many a fayre syghte at all the conduytes and at crosse in the chepe, as in heuenly arraye of aungels, Archaungels, patriarches, prophites and Virgines, with dyuers melodies, sensyng and syngyng, to welcome oure kyng ; And alle the conduytes rennyng with wyne. (Cott. Claud. A. viii. leaf 4, back). The last three verses of our ballad quicken and alter events 1 Nicolas quotes this also, p. 277-8, at foot. 16G AGINCOURTE BATTELL. considerably. It was not till after many a weary siege and fight, culminating with the fall of Rouen on January 16, 141 9, ' that Henry saw his beautiful bride, and that for one day only, on May 30, 1419. It was not till May 20, 1420, that he married her at Troyes ; not till December of that year that he made his triumphal entry into Paris with his wife and his father-in-law, the French King. He was never crowned in Paris, King of France, but his wife was crowned in Westminster Abbey, Queen of England, on St. Matthew's day, September 21, a.d. 1421. Henry V. A conncell brane 2 our ~K.ing did hold with many a lord & knight, in 3 whom, he trulye vnderstands 4 how ffrance withheld his right. sends an ambassador to the French King therefor a braue embassador vnto the ~ELing he sent, that he might ffully vnderstand 3 his mind & whole entente, to yield him his right, or he'll take it. desiring him, as 4 freindlye sort, his lawfull wright to yeeld, or else he sware 5 by dint of sword 1 2 to win the same in feild. Charles VI. answers the ~K.ing of ffrance, with all his lords who 6 heard this message plaine, vnto our braue embassador 1 6 did answer in disdaine ; 1 See the "Sege of Eoan," ArchcBol. xxi. 48 ; xxii. 361. — P. 2 grave, P.O. (Print 1 ? Copy).— P. 3 Of. Conjecture].— P. 4 in, P.C.— P. 5 vow'd, P.C.— P. 6 which, P.C.— P. AGIXC0U1STE BATTELL. K)7 avIio sayd, 1 "our King was yett but 2 youngo & of a 3 tender age ; wherfor I way not for his warres, 4 20 nor care not for his rage, 5 " whose 6 knowledge eke 7 in fleats of armes, whose sickill 8 [is] but 9 verry small, whose 10 tender ioynts more flitter are 24 to tosse a Tennys ball." that he cares not for Henry's threats, a tunn of Tennys balls th erf ore, in pryde and great disdaine he sends to Noble Henery the 5'! 1 , 11 28 who recompenced 12 his paine. and sends him a tun of tennis-balls. & when our Kmg this message hard he waxed wrath in bis 13 hart, & said " he wold such balls p?-ovyde 32 that 13 shold make all france to smart." Henry an army great 14 our "King prepared, 15 that was both good & strong ; & from Sowthampton is our King 36 with all his ISTauye gone. prepares an army, he landed in ffrance both safe 16 and sound with all his warlike traine ; vnto 17 a towne called Harffleete first ,8 40 he marched vp amaine. lands in France, 1 And feign'd, P.C.— P. 2 too, P.C.— P. 3 of too, P.O.— P. 4 we weigh — of his war, P.C — P. 5 fear we his courage, P.C. — P. 8 His, P.C— P. ' is, P.C— P. 8 skill.— P. 9 As yet but &c, P.C— P. 10 His.— P 11 He sent unto our noble K? , P.C -P. 12 To recompence, P.C — P. 13 d.—P. " then, P.C— P. 15 did raise, P.C— P. 18 In France he landed safe, &c, P.C -P. 17 And to, P.C— P. 18 of Harfleur strait, P.C— P. 168 AGINCOURTE BATTELL. besieges Harfleur, 44 and when he had beseeged the same, against these fensed walls to batter downe their statlye towers he sent his English Balls. bids it sur- render or he'll beat it to the ground. 1 And he bad them yeeld [up to him 2 ] themselnes & eke their towne, or else he sware vnto the earth 48 with cannon 3 to beate them downe. [page 242] The Govern - ors give up the town. 1 the great gunn of Caleis was vpsett, 4 he mounted against those walls 5 ; the strongest steepele in the towne, 52 he threw downe bells & all. 1 then those that were the gouernors their woefull hands did wringe 6 ; the brought their Keyes in humble sort 56 vnto our gracious K.ing. Henry garrisons it, 1 & when the towne was woone and last, the ffrenchmen out the " threw, & placed there 800 englishmen 60 that wold to him be true. and marches to this being done, our Noble K.ing 8 marched vp & downe that 9 land, — & not a ffrenchman ffor his liffe 64 durst once his fforce withstand, — 1 These 4 stanz 1 ! not in print. — P. 2 MS. cut away. It has more words. -F. He hade the governors give up. -P, 3 guns.- * then.- -P. -P. 5 was ••'gainst their wall. — P. 6 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 7 he.— P. 8 done our noble English King, P.O. —P. 9 the, P.O.— P. 68 AGINCOURTE BATTELL. till l ho came to Agincourt ; & 2 as it was his chance, to ffincl 3 the ~K.ing in reaclinesse, with him was all the power of ffrance, 169 Agincourt, where the French King is, a mightye host they 4 had prepared off armed souldiers then, wh /ch was noe lesse (the chronicle sayes) 5 72 then 600000 6 men.? with 000,000 men. the K.ing of ffrance that well did know the number of our men, in vanting pride vnto our 'K.ing 76 sends one of his heralds 8 then Charles sends a herald 80 to vnderstand what he wold gine for the 9 ransome of his liffe, when in that feild he had taken him 10 amiddst that u bloody striffe. to ask Henry what ransom he'll pay for his life. & when 12 our ~King the Message heard, 13 did straight the l4 answer make, saying, " before that thing shold 15 come to passe, 84 many 16 of their harts shold 17 ake ! Henry answers 1 Until, P.C.— P. 8 Where, P.C.— P. 3 He found. — P. him was, 1. 68, marked out by P. conj[ecturallyj. — F. 4 He, P.O.— P. 5 by just account, P.O. — P. 6 40,000, P.C.— P. 7 Between 18 and 19'. h Stanza of y e MS. is the following in Print: — Which sight did much amaze our king, For ho and * all his host Not passing fifteen thousand had, Accounted at the most. — P. 8 Did sond a Herald, P.C.— P. 9 d.—P. 10 he in field sh'd ... be, P.C.— P. 11 their, P.C.— P. 12 then . . .—P. 13 with cheerfid heart. — P. 11 this.— P. 15 thing shold, cut out by P. — F. some. 17 shall, P.C.— P. * n— P. 170 AGINCOURTE BATTELL. " My heart's blood." 88 vnto your proud presumptuss prince declare this tiling," quoth hee, my owne harts blood shall pay the price ; nought * else he getts of me." 2 The French then all the night the frenchman Lyen, with triumphe, mirth, & Ioy ; the next morning they mad full accomp[t] 3 92 our Armye to destroye. play at dice for the English, & for our ~K.ing & all his Lords at dice the 4 playd apace, & for our comon souldiers coates 96 they set a prize but base, and value their red coats at 8d., white at id. 8 pence for a redd coate, 5 & a groate was sett to a white ; 6 because they 7 color was soe light, 100 they sett noe better buy itt. 8 Henry en- courages his men: the cheerfull day at last was come ; our K.ing with Noble hart did pray his valliant soldiers all 104 to play a worthye part, & not to shrinke from fainting foes, whose fearfull harts in ffeeld wold by their feirce couragious stroakes 108 be soone in-forced 9 to yeeld ; 1 none. — P. 2 Seven Stanz 8 following not in Print. 3 Making account the next morning, or, They made &c— P. del. full.— P. 4 they.— P. 5 coat was set. — P. 6 And fourpence for a white. — P. ' They put in brackets by P. conj. — F. » by't.— P. 9 enforced.— P. AGINCOURTE BATTELL. 171 " regard not of ' their multitude, tho they are more then wee, for eche of vs well able is 112 to beate downe ffrenchmen 3 ; " Don't mind the Fixnch numbers ; each of us can kill three of them ; but " yett let euerye man provide himselfe 2 a strong 3 substantiall stake, & set it right before himselfe, 116 the horsmans force to breake." let every archer get a stake to stop the horse- men." & then 4 bespake the Duke of yorke " noble King," said hee, " the leading of that 5 battell braue 120 vouch[s]afe to giue it 6 me ! " The Duke of York leads the vanguard. " god amercy, cosen yorke," sayes hee, Henry " I doe 7 grant thee thy request ; Marche you 8 on couragiouslye, [page 243] 124 & I will guide 9 the rest." the rest. then came the bragginge frenchmen downe with cruell 10 force & might, with whome our noble "King began 128 a harde & cruell flight. The French come on. our English archers 1 1 discharged their shafts Our archers as thicke as hayle in skye, 12 & 13 many a frenchman in that 14 feelde km many; 132 that happy day did dye ; 1 you, or then. — P. 2 himselfe is in 1. 114 in the MS. P. marks it to go to 1. 113. yett is marked out by P.— P. 3 But yet let every man provide A strong &c. — P. 4 With that, P.O.— P. 5 this (the), P.C.— P. 6 to, PC— P. 7 d[e!e].— P. s then— thou, P.O.— P. 9 lead, PC— P. 10 greater, PC— P. 11 d. English. [Insert] they, PC— P. 12 from skye, P.C— P. 13 That, P.C— P. " the, P.C— P. 172 AGINCOURTE BATTELL. their stakes stop the horse. 1 ffor the horssmen stumbled on our stakes, & soe their Hues they lost ; & many a frenchman there was tane 136 for prisoners to their 2 cost. 10,000 French aro slain, 10,000 taken, 10000 ffrenchmen 3 there were slaine of enemies in the ffeeld, & neere as many prisoners tane 4 140 that day were fforced to yeeld. and Henry wins the day. thns had our "Kmg a happy day & victorye ouer ffrance ; he brought his foes vnder bis ffeete 5 144 that late in pride did prance. While the fight is going on, news comes G when they were at the Maine battell there With all their might & forces, then 7 a crye came ffrom our English tents 148 that we were robbed all them 8 ; that the French have plundered the English tents. for the Duke of Orleance, with a band of men, to our English tents they came 9 ; all 10 our Iewells & treasure that they haue taken, 152 & many of our boyes n haue slaine. Henry orders all the French prisoners to be slain, much greeved was Kmg 12 Harry therat, — this was against 13 the law of armes then,- comands euerye souldier on paine of death 156 to slay euerye prisoner then. 14 1 This stanza not in Print. — P. 2 [prisoner ••] his, [P.]C. — P. 3 men that day, P.C.— P. 4 (d. P.O.)— P. s them quickly under foot, P.C. — P. 6 The Nine Stanz". following not in print, but instead the annexed stanza vizt. : — The Lord preserve our noble King And grant to him likewise The upper hand and victory Of all his enemies ! — P. 7 force and might.- — P. 8 they were robbed quite.— P. 9 Of men unto them. came. — P. 10 And prefixed; Iewells §~, and that marked out by P. — F. 11 all our boys, so ShakespT — P. 12 the King.— P. 13 Boing 'gainst. — P. and then deleted. — F. 14 And bade y™ slay their Prisoners For to revenge these hurms. — P. AGINCOURTE BATTELL. 173 160 164 lfi8 172 176 200000 l ffrenchemen our Englishmen had, some 2, & some had one 2 ; euerye one was commanded by sound of trumpett to slay his prisoner then. 3 & then the followed vpon the maine battell ; the ffrenchmen the fled then 4 towards the citye of Paris as fast as the 5 might gone. but then ther was neuer a peere with- in france 6 of all those 7 Nobles then, of all those worthye Disse peeres, durst come to 'King Harry 8 then. but then Katherine, the "Kings fayre daughter there, 9 being proued apparant his heyre, with her maidens 10 in most sweet attire to King Harry did repayre ; ' ] & when shee came before our l2 King, slice kneeled vpon her knee, desiring him 13 that his warres wold li cease, & that l3 he her loue wold bee. 200,000 of them. The French flee towards Paris, and no Duzeper dares meet King Harry; hut the Princess Katherine comes anil asks him to marry her. 180 there- vpon our English Lords then agreed 15 with the Peeres of ffrance then 16 ; soe he Marryed Katherine, the Kmqs faire daughter, ITc d °es, , "" 1 ^ * ° is crowned & was crowned King in Paris then. 17 ffins. King in Paris. 1 10,000.— P. Both men deleted.— F. 4 Some one and some had two. — P. 3 And each was bid by Trumpets sound To slay his prisoner tho, (or) His Prisoner to slo. — P. ! anon. — P. the, 1. 16-!, and $, the and tip of 1. 161 deleted by P.— F. s they.— P. 6 Then was there never a Peer in I'' ranee. Conj. — P. Then eotdi there nor be found in France Of their Nobles all or Some. — P. 7 Not one of all those. — P. 8 to K? Harry come. — P. 9 King's Daughter fair, [P.]C— P. 10 all— Maids.— P. then, 1. 169, his, 1. 170, most, 1. 171, marked d by P.— F. 11 Did to our King rep™, [P.]C.— P. 12 our.— P. 13 d.—P. 14 might.— P. 15 Our Ks & — Lords.— P. ,fi Soon with the French agreed. —P. " So at Paris he fair Kath n . e wed And crowned was with spec I,— P. 174 Conscience* 1 Theue are two sides to Early English Literature ; one gay, the other grave ; one light, the other earnest : and a man who comes to the subject fresh from struggles iu the cause of reform, social and political, and meets first with the grave and earnest side of our early writings, is struck with delight and surprise at finding that in the old days, too, protesters against wrong existed, and that English writers denounced from the depths of their soul, in words of sternest indignation, the oppressions and abuses from which the English poor of their days suffered. Having passed myself from those Morning Chronicle letters on " Labour and the Poor " — which in 1849-50 revealed so much of the sad state of our workmen, — from meetings of sweated tailors, over- worked bakers, and ballast-heavers forced into drunkenness, to the pages of Roberd of Brunne's Handlyng Synne, Langlande's Vision of Piers Ploughman, Piers Ploughman's Crede, and works of like kind from 1303 to 1560, — I can bear witness to the deep impression made on me by the noble and fervent spirits of our early men, rebuking the selfish, denouncing the hard- hearted, calling down God's judgment on the oppressor ; striving, in their time too, to leave the land better than they found it. As one looked backward to these sources of the river of English life, one heard a great murmur of wrong rise from the torrents' currents, one saw the stream turbid with the woes of " humble folk ; " but there were never wanting voices, ordering the one to be stilled in orderly channels, and the other cleared. Further ' This is a satirical Allegory: and seems not very ancient, vid. St. 13, v. 4. -P. CONSCIENCE. 175 study of our early writers did not lessen this impression : for though the bright side came, though Chaucer's living sketches portrayed all that was merriest in early days, yet still there was method in his mirth ; abuses in religion and social life were exposed, none the less effectively because with a joke ; and when he spoke seriously, he too declared, "Thilke that thay clepe thralles, ben Groddes people ; for humble folk ben Christ.es frendes : thay ben contubernially with the Lord : . . . certes, extorciouns and despit of our undirlinges is dampnable." (Persones Tale, De avaritia.) To their honour be it said, our early writers were on the weak man's side against the strong, and did what in them lay to lessen the vice of the world. It is this which makes the lovers of them not only surprised, but in- dignant, at the willing and wilful ignorance in which men of our day remain with regard to them. Our moderns will not take a few days' trouble to master their language ; they care little fortheir thoughts : but when once the readers of the nineteenth — or is it to be the twentieth ? — century awake to the recognition of the fact that there is an Early English Literature worth studying, they will be ashamed of their countrymen's long neglect, and gladly acknowledge the value of the treasures they will find — food for all the best impulses of the human soul. So far as I know, justice has never yet been done to this spirit of our early literature by any writer on it, except the latest — Professor Morley. He, a man of mind akin with that of our old men — fresh from half a life spent in struggles for reform in health-laws, education, politics, and religion, ever backing the right and fighting the wrong — has come to the old books and said to them, not only " what were you translated or altered from, what manuscripts are there of you ? " but first and mainly, " what do you. 77iean? what has the spirit of your writer got to say to the spirits of me and men here now ? " And the old bones (that were nothing more to so many) have taken flesh again and answered him, have stretched out their hands 1 76 CONSCIENCE. and gript his as a friend's ; and he has put down their answer for us in his own way in divers places of his genial and able book, 1 one of which I quote. He is speaking of Grower's Vox Cla- mantis, written on Wat Tyler's rebellion. " In that earlier work, though written with vigour and ease in Latin, the language of literature which alone then seemed to be lasting, John Grower spoke especially and most essentially the English mind. To this day we hear among our living country- men, as w T as to be heard in Grower's time and long before, the voice passing from man to man that — in spite of admixture with the thousand defects incident to human character — sustains the keynote of our literature, and speaks from the soul of our history the secret of our national success. It is the voice that expresses the persistent instinct of the English mind to find out what is unjust among us and undo it, to find out duty to be done and do it, as Gfod's bidding. We twist religion into many a mistaken form. With thought free and opinions mani- fold we have run through many a trial of excess and of its answering reaction. In battle for main principles we have worked on through political and social conflicts in which often, no doubt, unworthy men rising to prominence have misused for a short time dishonest influence. But there has been no real check to the great current of national thought, the stream from which the long line of our English writers, like the trees by the fertile river-bank, derive their health and strength. We have seen how persistently that slow and earnest English labour towards Gfod and the right was maintained for six centuries before the time of Chaucer, from the day when Csedmon struck the first note of our strain of English song with the words : ' For us it is very right that we praise with our words, love in minds, the Keeper of the Heavens, Glory King of Hosts.' It was the old spirit still in Chaucer's time that worked in the 'Vision of Piers Plowman,' and spoke through the Voice of Grower as of one crying in the wilderness, e Prepare ye the way of the Lord.' It needed not in those days that a man should be a Wicliffite to see the griefs of the Church and people, and to trace them to their root in duties unperformed. Gower's name is a native one, possibly Cymric, but derived pro- bably in or near Kent, from the old Saxon word for marsh- 1 English Writers, vol. ii. pt. i. p. 106-7. CONSCIENCE. 177 country, of which there was much about the Thames mouth, Gyrwa-land. His genius is unmixed Anglo-Saxon, closely allied to that of the literature before the Conquest, in the simple ear- nestness of a didactic manner leavened by no bold originality of fancy. In his Latin verse Grower writes easily, and, having his soul in his theme, forcibly. But he tells that which he knows, and invents rarely. His few inventions also, as of the dream of transformed beasts that represent Wat Tyler's rabble, of the ship of the state at sea, of his landing at an island full of turmoil which an old man described to him as Britain, are contrivances wanting in the subtlety and the audacity of true imaginative genius. He does not see as he writes, and so write that all they who read see with him. But in his own old English or Ansrlo- Saxon way, he tries to put his soul into his work. Thus, in the ' Vox Clamantis ' we have heard him asking that the soul of his book, not its form, be looked to ; and speaking the truest English in such sentences as that 'the eye is blind, and the ear deaf, that convey nothing down to the heart's depth ; and the heart that does not utter what it knows is as a live coal under ashes. If I know little, there may be another whom that little will help. Poor, I give of my scanty store, for I would rather be of small use than of none. But to the man who believes in (rod no power is unattainable if he but rightly feels his work; he ever has enough whom God increases.' This is the old spirit of Csedmon and of Bede, in which are laid, while the earth lasts, the strong foundations of our literature. It was the strength of such a temper in him that made Grower strong. ' God knows,' he says again, ' my wish is to be useful ; that is the prayer that directs my labour.' And while he thus touches the root of his country's philosophy, the form of his prayer that what he has written may be what he would wish it to be, is still a thoroughly sound definition of good English writing. His prayer is that there may be no word of untruth, and that 'each word may answer to the thing it speaks of, pleasantly and fitly ; that he may flatter in it no one, and seek in it no praise above the praise of Grod. Give me,' he asks, ' that there shall be less vice and more virtue for my speaking.' " So far as regards the spirit of our early literature, I believe that Professor Morley is justified in every word that he has said. Granted the occasional coarseness of expressions in it to us, granted many another shortcoming, the spirit of it is noble and vol. n. N 178 CONSCIENCE. worthy of honour, as its words are worthy of study, by every Englishman. The present poem, Conscience, is one effort, a late one, in the strain of that " slow and earnest labour towards God and the right " of which Professor Morley speaks. Differing as it does in word and form from the Ayenbite of Inwyt (or Remorse of. Conscience) which Dan Michel of North Gate, " ane brother of the cloystre of saynt Austin of Canterburi," fulfilled in the year of our lordes bearing, 1340, it has yet the same aim, fris boc is y write uor englisse men, J»et hi wyte (may learn) hou hi ssolle ham-zelue ssriue, and maki ham klene ine Juse Hue. With Richard Rolle of Hampole in 1345 (or thereabouts), its writer desires that by his Pricke of Conscience men may Be stird J?ar-by til ryghtwyse way, J?at es, tille \>e way of gude lyfyng, And at \>e last be broght til gude endyng. (p. 258, 1. 9611.) With Langlande, our Conscience tries the Court, the Lawyers, the Landlords, the Merchants, the Clergy ; and all he finds in the possession of his enemies. Covetousness, Lechery, Usury, Avarice, and Pride have their way with all ; the husbandmen are left desolate so that they cannot help the poor, and Conscience is driven out to lodge in the wood, and eat hips and haws, his only comforters being Mercy, Pity, and Almsdeeds. In early times Langlande's Conscience fared better : he got the King on his side ; stood his ground well ; reproved Mede or Bribery ; brought sinners to repentance, sent them seeking for truth, and remained master of the situation. (See Langlande' 's Vision of Piers the Ploughman, ed. Skeat, E. E. Text Soc. 1867, Passus 3-5.) A contrast of the different evils complained of by reforming writers in different ages, and the comparative prominence given to each vice by each writer, could not fail to bring out the cha- CONSCIENCE. 179 racteristics of the successive periods of our social history, and he of great interest. But though I have some material for it, want of space forbids my attempting it here. Still, the point may be illustrated by looking at the clergy's hinderers in their good work of giving, as mentioned in the present poem, for their wiues & their children soe hange them vpon, that whosoeuer giues alines deeds they will giue none, when set beside Eoberd of Brunne's complaints, in his Handlyng Synne, about the priest's mare or concubine, and the earlier one of the Old English Homilies (? about 1200 a.d.) that Mr. Richard Morris will edit, probably in 1869, for the Early English Text Society : And oftre fele lerdemen speken alse lewede alse ure drihten seide burn anes prophetes mu6e. Erit sicitt populus sacerdos. Prest sal leden his lif alse lewede mam . and sw r o hie dot? nuSe '. and sumdel werse. For J>e lewede man wuroec5 his spuse mid cloSes more fane mid him seluen. and prest naht sis ( = so his) chireche, ]>e is his spuse ' ac his dale, ]>e is his hore . awlencS hire mid clones . more ]>an him seluen. De chirche clones ben to-brokene ' and ealde . and his wines shule ben hole l . and new T e . His alter cloS great and sole '■ and hire chemise smal and hwit . and te albe sol ' and hire smoc hwit. pe haned-line sward ' and hire wimpel wit . oSer maked geleu mid safFran. De meshakele of medeme fustain . and hire mentel grene oSer burnet. De corporeals sole! and unshapliche . hire handcloSes . and hire bord clones maked wite and lustliche on to siene. De caliz of tin i and hire nap of mazere and ring of gokle. And is ]>e prest swo muchele forcuoere . ]>ane ]>e lewede. Swo he w T uroeS his hore more ]>an his spuse. — Homilies in Trinity Coll. MS. a.d. 1200. Translation uy Mr. HicTia/rd Moitis. And many other learned men speak as the unlearned, as our Lord spake through the mouth of a prophet, Erit sicitt, 8fc. The priest shall lead his life as the laity; and so they do now, and somewhat Avorse, for the layman honoureth his spouse with clothes more than himself, and the priest not so his church, which is his spouse; but his day (maid servant), who is his whore, whom he adorneth with clothes more than himself. The church cloths are ragged and old, x 2 180 CONSCIENCE. and his woman's shall be whole and new. His altar cloth great (coarse) and dirty (soiled), and her chemise small and white ; and the alb soiled, and her smock white ; the head linen black, and her wimple (neck-cloth) white, or made yellow with saffron. The masscloth of paltry fustian, and her mantle green or bnrnet ; the corporas soiled and badly made, her band-cloths and her table- cloths made white and pleasant to the sight. The chalice of tin, and her cup of maser (a sort of hard wood gilded or inlaid with jewels), and her ring of gold ; and so the priest is much worse than the laity for he honoureth his whore more than his spouse. On the question of the rents asked by grasping landlords, I may quote a passage from Ascham used in the Forewords to The Babees Boke, &c. (E. E. T. Soc, 1868). " He says to the Duke of Somerset on Nov. 21, 1547 {Works, ed. Giles, i. 140-1), " ' Qui auctores sunt tanta? miserise ? . . . Sunt illi qui hodie passim, in Anglia, pradia monasteriorum gravissimis annuis reditibus auxerunt. Hinc omnium rerum exauctum pretium ; hi homines expilant totam rempublicam. Villici et coloni universi laborant, parcunt, corradunt, ut istis satisfaciant. . . Hinc tot familise dissipatse, tot domus collapsae . . Hinc, quod omnium miserrimum est, nobile illud decus et robur Angliae, nomen, in- quam, Yomanorum Anglorum, fractum et collisum est Nam vita, qu.e nunc vivitur a plurimis, non vita, sed miseria EST.' (When will these words cease to be true of our land ? They should be burnt into all our hearts.) " Harrison, in 1577, speaks more easily about rents, and as he deals also with the question of Usury or Interest noted in our poem, I make a long quotation from his Description of England, a book invaluable to the student of the England of Shakespeare's days, and which I hope we shall soon reprint in the Extra Series of our Early English Text Society. Harrison is speaking of the " Three things greatlie amended in England " in his day :'"(1.) Chimnies; (2.) Hard lodging; (3.) Furniture of household," and of the latter says : The third thing they tell of, is the exchange of vessell, as of CONSCIENCE. 181 treene platters into pewter, and woodden spoones into siluer or tin. For so common were all sorts of treene stuffe in old time, that a man should hardlie find foure peeces of pewter (of which one was perad- uenture a salt) in a good farmer's house, and yet for all this frugalitie l (if it may so be iustly called) they were scarse able to Hue and paie their rents at their daies without selling of a cow, or an horsse, or more, although they paid but foure pounds at the vttermost by the yeare. Such also Avas their pouertie, that if some one od farmer or husbandman had beene at the alehouse, a thing greatlie vsed in those daies, amongst six or seuen of his neighbours, and there in a brauerie to shew what store he had, did cast downe his pursse, and therein a noble or six shillings in siluer vnto them (for few such men then cared for gold bicause it was not so readie paiment, and they were oft inforced to giue a penie for the exchange of an angell) it was verie likelie that all the rest could not laie downe so much against it : whereas in my time, although peraduenture foure pounds of old rent be improued to fortie, fiftie, or an hundred pounds, yet will the farmer (as another palme or date tree) thinke his gaines verie small toward the end of his terme, if he haue not six or seuen yeares rent lieng by him, therewith to purchase a new lease, beside a faire garnish of pewter on his cupbord, with so much more in od vessell o-oing about the house, three or foure featherbeds, so manie couerlids and carpets of tapistrie, a siluer salt, a bowle for wine (if not an whole neast) and a dozzen of spoones to furnish vp the sute. This also he taketh to be his owne cleere, for what stocke of monie soeuer he gathereth & laieth vp in all his yeares, it is often seene, that the landlord will take such order with him for the same, when he renueth his lease, which is commonlie eight or six yeares before the old be expired (sith it is now growen almost to a custome, that if he come not to his lord so long before, another shall step in for a reuer- sion, and so defeat him out right) that it shall neuer trouble him more than the haire of his beard, when the barber hath washed and shauen it from his chin. And as they commend these, so (beside the decaie of housekeeping whereby the poore haue beene relieued) they speake also of three things that are growen to be verie grieuous vnto them to wit, the inhansing of rents, latelie mentioned ; the dailie oppression of copiholders, whose lords seeke to bring their poore tenants almost into plaine seruitude and miserie, daily deuising new meanes, and seeking vp all the old how to cut them shorter and 1 The sidenote here is " This was in the time of generall idlenesse." 182 CONSCIENCE. shorter, doubling, trebling, and now & tlien seuen times increasing their fines, drilling them also for euerie trifle to loose and forfeit their tenures (by whome the greatest part of the realme dooth stand and is mainteined) to the end they may fleece them yet more, which is a lamentable hering. The third thing they talke of is vsurie, a trade brought in by the Iewes, now perfectlie practised almost by euerie christian, and so commonlie, that he is accompted but for a foole that dooth lend his monie for n,o thing. In time past it was Sorspro sorte, that is, the principall onelie for the principall ; but now beside that which is aboue the principall properlie called Vsura, we chalenge Fcenus, that is commoditie of soile, & fruits of the earth, if not the ground it selfe. In time past also one of the hundred was much, from thence it rose vnto two, called in Latine Vsura, Ex sextante ; three, to wit Ex quadrante ; then to foure, to wit Ex triente ; then to fiue, which is Ex quincunce ; then to six, called Ex semisse, &c. : as the accompt of the Assis ariseth, and comming at the last vnto Vsura ex asse, it amounteth to twelue in the hundred, and therefore the Latines call it Centesima, for that in the hundred moneth it doubleth the principall ; but more of this elsewhere. See Cicero against Verres, Demosthenes against Aphobus, and Atlienceus lib. 13. in fine : and when thou hast read them well, hclpe I praie thee in lawfull maner to hang vp such as take Centum pro cento, 1 for they are no better worthie, as I doo iudge in conscience. Forget not also such landlords as vse to value their leases at a secret estimation giuen of the wealth and credit of the taker, whereby they seeme (as it were) to eat them vp and deale with bondmen, so that if the leassee be thought to be worth an hundred pounds, he shall paie no lesse for his new terme, or else another to enter with hard and doubtfull couenants. I am sorie to report it, much more greeued to vnderstand of the practise ; but most sorowfull of all to vnderstand that men of great port and countenance are so farre from suffering their farmers to haue anie gaine at all, that they themselues become grasiers, butchers, tanners, sheepmasters, woodmen, and denique quid non, thereby to inrich themselues, and bring all the wealth of the countrie into their owne hands, leauing the communaltie weake, or as an idoll with broken or feeble armes, which may in a time of peace haue a plau- sible shew, but when necessitie shall inforce, haue an heauie and bitter sequele. — Holinshed, vol. i. p. 188-189, ed. 1586. The date of the poem I cannot pretend to fix. " The new- found land" of 1. 91— 1 " By the yeare " is the sidenote. CONSCIENCE. 183 We banisht thee the country beyond the salt sea, & sett thee on shore in the new-found land — cannot refer, I think, to the re-discovery of Newfoundland by John Cabot, then in the service of England, on the 24th of June, 1497 {Penny Cycl.). The date must be later than that. The first three stanzas of the poem, which should contain twenty-one lines, in the Manuscript (which is written without divisions) contain only eighteen lines. Mr. Skeat has sent me two arrangements of them, of which the following seems the right one : As I walked of late by one wood side, to god for to meditate was my entent, where vnder a hawthorne I suddenly espyed a silly poore creature ragged & rent, with bloody teares his face was besprent, his fieshe & his color consumed away, & his garments they were all mire, mucke, & clay ; ■with turning & winding his bodye was toste, * * * * * ****** ***** " good lord ! of my liffe depriue me, I pray, for I, silly wretch, am ashamed of my name ; & I cursse my godfathers that gaue me the same." this made me muse & much desire to know what kind of man hee shold bee ; I stept to him straight, and did him require his name & his secretts to shew vnto me. his head he cast vp, & wooful was hee, "my name," qwoth hee, " is the causer of my care, & makes me scornd, & left here soe bare." — F. As : I walked of late by one 1 wood side, As I walked 2 to god for to meditate was my entent, meditate, where vnder a hawthorne I suddenly espyed x spied 4 a silly poore creature ragged & rent ; a poor 1 an. — P. 2 perhaps On God. — P. 184 CONSCIENCE. ragged creature mired all over. He wished himself dead, his name caused his trouble. I asked him to tell it me. with bloody teares his face was besprent, his fleshe & his color consumed away ; 1 with turning & winding his bodye was toste, 8 & his garments they were all mire, mucke, & clay. " good lord ! of my liffe depriue me, I pray, for I, silly wretch, am ashamed of my name ! 2 my name, " quoth hee, " is the causer of my care, 12 & I cursse my godfathers that gaue me the same ! " this made me muse, & much desire to know what kind of man hee shold bee ; 3 I stept to him straight, & did him require 16 his name & his secretts to shew vnto me. [page 244] his head he cast vp, & wooful was hee, 4 [" My name," quoth hee, is the causer of my care,] & makes me scornd, & left 5 here soe bare." then straight- way he turnd him & prayd him 6 sit dow[ne] He said his 20 " & I will," saithe he, " declare my whole greefe. name was • n -1 /-< • . , Conscience. m y name is called Conscience ;>" wheratt he did fro[wne] he pined to repeate it, & grinded his teethe. 7 When young for while I was young & tender of yeeres, 24 I was entertained with Kings 8 & with. Peeres, 1 This verse is redundant. — P. 2 To come in below. — P. 3 Percy, in his Eeliques, omits three of these lines, and transfers line 11 to line 1 8, where it must be, at least, re- peated, without notice to the reader. The bishop warns his readers in his second and later editions that some corruptions in the old copy are here corrected, but not without notice to the reader, where it was necessary, by inclosing the correc- tions between inverted ' commas.' He must have therefore thought the omission of lines 9, 10, and 12, a correction not necessary to be noticed. — P. 4 The verse [" my name " qwoth hee, " is the causer of my care,"] to come in here. — P. 5 The /is like an/ in the MS.— F. 6 me. — P. 7 Thoughe now silly wretche, I'm deny'd all relief, Yet . . . — Beliqucs. 8 kinges. — Bel. CONSCIENCE. 185 28 '' there was ttone in all ' the court that lined in such fame ; for with the Ts.in.gs councell he sate 2 in Commission ; Dukes Erles & Barrons esteemed of my name ; & how that I liued there needs no repetition ; I was euer holden in honest condition ; for howsoeuer the lawes went in Westminster hall, when sentence was giuen, for me the wold 3 call. he was honoured by Dukes and in Law Courts. Landlords obeyed him ; 32 " noe Incombes 4 at all the landlord wold take, but one pore peny, that was their fine, & that they acknowledged to be for my sake ; the poore wold doe nothing without councell mine ; the poor 36 I ruld the world with the right line ; for nothing that was 5 passed betweene foe & freind, but Conscience was called to bee at an 6 end. the world, "noe Merchandize nor bargaines the Merchants wold and merchants. ma[ke], 40 but I was called a wittenesse therto ; no vse 7 for noe mony, nor forfett wold take, but I wold controwle them if that they did soe ; that makes me Hue now in great woe, 44 for then came in pride, Sathans disciple, that now is 8 entertaind with 9 all kind of people ; Xo usury was prac- tised. " Then came in Pride, he brought with him 3, whose names they be these, 10 covetous- that is couetousnes, Lechery e, vsury, 11 beside; Lechery, and 48 they neuer preuailed till they had 12 wrought my who over- threw me. downe-tall. 1 all omitted. — 2?< I. 2 I sate.— P. 3 they wold.— P. 4 Incomes. — P. 5 (that was) seem redundant. — P. 6 the.— P. 7 interest. — P. 8 is now. — Eel. 9 of. — P. 10 thus they call. — Eel. 11 ' & pride ' was added here in the MS., then struck out with a heavy ink stroke, the acid of which has eaten the paper away. — F. 12 had omitted. — Eel. 186 CONSCIENCE. I tried abroad, 52 soe pride was entertained, but Conscience was deride. 1 yet st[i]ll 2 abroad baue 3 I tryed to bane bad entertainment with some one or otber, but I am reiected & scorned of my brother. then the Court ; but was told to pack off to St. Bartholo- mew's. " then went I to the 4 court, the gallants to winn, but the porter kept me out of the gates, to Bartlwew 5 spittle, to pray for my sinnes, 6 56 they bad 7 me goe packe me ; it was fitt for my state ; "goe, goe, threed-bare conscience, & seeke thee a mate ! " good Lore 7 - ! long preserue my ~K.ing, Pirince, & Queene, with whom euer more I haue esteemed 8 beene ! Next I tried London, but they sent me off too. 60 " then went I to london, where once I did wonne, 9 but they bade away with me when the knew my name ; " for he will vndoe vs to bye & to sell," they bade me goe packe me, & bye me for shame, 64 they lought at my raggs, & there had good game ; "this is old threed-bare Conscience that dwelt with St. Peete[r] ; but they wold not admitt me to be a chimney sweeper. I spent my last penny in an awl and patches to cobble shoes, " not one wold receiue me, the Jjord god doth know. 68 I, hauing but one poore pennye in my pursse, of an aule 10 & some patches I did it bestow ; I thought better to u cobble shooes then to doe worsse. 1 perhaps decried. — P. 2 now ever since. — Bel. 3 Only half the u in the MS.— P. 4 the omitted. — Bel. 5 Bartlemew. — Bel. 6 Sin.— P. 7 me omitted in 1? ed?, restored in 2"?— Bel. 8 esteemed I've. — P. I ever esteemed have. — Bel. 3 perhaps dwell, (idem) — P. dwell. Bel. 10 On an awl. — P. 11 For I thought better.— Bel. CONSCIENCE. is; straight then all they * Coblers they began to cursse, but the cobblers 72 & by statute the wold proue me 2 I -was a rouge. & whiptmeout _ _ of the town. forlor|ne,J & they whipt 3 me out of towne to see 4 where I was borne. 76 80 " then did I remember & call to my minde they court 5 of conscience where once I did sit, not doubting but there some favor I shold find, for 6 my name & the place agreed soe fitt. but therof my 7 purpose I fayled a whitt, for the 8 iudge did vse my name in euerye condic/on 9 for Lawyers with their qu[i]lletts ,0 wold get a 11 dismission. I tried the Court of Conscience, but there the lawyers wheedled me out. " then Westminster hall was noe place for me ; Then i went good god ! 12 how the Lawyers began to assemblee ; sterHaii, and the & fearfull they were lest there I shold be ! lawyers 84 the silly poore clarkes began to tremblee ; l3 I showed them my cause, & did not dissemble, soe then they gaue me some mony my charges to beare, gave me but they 14 swore me on a booke Imust neuercome there, butmade me swear to go. 88 "then 15 the Merchants said, ' counterfeite, get thee The mer- chants too away, rejected me, dost thou remember how wee thee found ? 1G we banisht thee the country beyond the salt sea, & sett thee on shore in the new-found land, 17 the.— P. (I was) clelend. — P. And whipp. — Bel. seeke. — Bel. The court.— P. Sith. — Bel. there of my. — P. sure of my. — Bel. usd. — Bel. For tho' — coiiiission. — P. 10 The Lawyers — quillets. 11 raj.— Bel. 12 lord.— Bel. 13 tremble.— Eel. 14 they omitted. — Bel. ' 5 Next.— Bel. 1U fond.— Bel. 17 loud.— P. land.— Bel. 188 CONSCIENCE. 92 & there thow & wee most freinclly shook hands ; ] & we were verry 2 glad when thou did refuse vs, for when we wold reape proffitt heere 3 thou wold 4 accuse vs.' so I had to go to Gentle- men'shouses, and tell them I had made their fore- fathers grant just leases. They cursed me. " then had I noe way but for to goe an 5 96 to gentlemens houses of an ancyent name, declaring my greeffes ; & there I made moane, [page 245] & 6 how there 7 forfathers had held me in fame, & in letting of their ffarmes I alwayes vsed the same. 8 100 the sayd, " fye vpon thee ! we may thee cursse ! they haue leases 9 continue, & we fare the worsse." At last I was driven to husband- men ; but land- lords had left them no- thing to give away ; so I am in this wood, and eat hips and haws, but am comforted by Mercy, Pity, and Almsdeeds. 104 " & then I was forced a begging to goe to husbandsmens houses ; who greeved right sore, who sware that their Landlords had plaged them so sore 10 that they were not able to keepe open doore, nor nothing the n had left to giue to the pore, therfore to this wood I doe repayre 108 with, hepps & hawes ; that is my best fare. " & yet within this same desert some comfort I haue of Mercy, of pittye, & of almes-deeds, who haue vowed to company me to my 12 graue. 112 wee are ill 13 put to silence, & Hue vpon weeds ; 14 our banishment is their vtter decay, the w/w'ch the rich glutton will answer one day." 1 hond.-— P. 2 right. — Ret. 3 proffitt heere omitted. — Eel. 4 woldst.— Bel. 5 on.— Bel. 6 Telling.— Bel. ' their.— P. 8 And at letting their farmes how always I came. — Bel. 9 their leases, i. e. the indulgent Leases let by our forefathers. — P. 10 soe.— Bel. 11 (the) redundflMt. — P. 12 ny in the MS. — P. 13 all.— Bel. 14 and hence such cold housekeeping proceeds. — Bel. CONSCIENCE. 189 'why then," I said to him, " methinkes it were best "Go to the 116 to goe to the Clergee ; for dealye 1 the preach i. eche man to loue you aboue all the rest ; of mercy & of Pittie & of almes they doe 2 teach." "0," said he, "no matter of a pin what they doe ifdbe no good ; their preacn, wives and 120 for their wiues & their children soe hangs them vpon, their giving. that whosoeuer giues almes deeds 3 they will 4 giue none." then Laid he him downe, & turned him away, prayd 5 me to goe & leaue him to rest, 124 I told him I might happen to 6 see the day to haue 7 him & his fellowes to hue with the best ; Banish 8 " first," said hee, " you must banish pride, & then England will be blest. ail Lnglancl were blest, 9 & I0 then those wold loue vsthatnow sells 11 their lands, 12 128 & then good houses euerye where wold be kept 13 out of hand." ffins. 1 daily.— P. 8 This line written as two in the MS. 2 doe omitted. — Bel. — F. 3 deeds omitted. — Bel. 9 First stud he, banish Pryde : Then 4 It ought in justice and Truth to be all Engl«wd were blest. — P. These make " can."— P. two lines in the MS.— F. 5 And prayd.— Bel. ,0 For.— Bel. 6 haplie might yet. — Rd. " sell. — Bel. 7 For.-7W. I2 land.— P. 13 house-keeping wold revive. — Bel. 190 23url)am ffriitst, 1 Says Shakespeare's Henry V. : You s]jall read, that my grandfather Never went with his forces into France, But that the Scot on his unfurnisht kingdom Came pouring, like a tide into a breach, With ample and brim-fullness of his force ; Galling the gleaned land with hot assays ; Girdling, with grievous siege, castles and towns, That England being empty of defence Hath shook and trembled at th' ill neighbourhood. Perhaps the best account of the expedition celebrated in the following ballad is given by Fordun. " The local accuracy," observes Surtees, " with which Fordun describes the advance of the English army from Auckland, .... infers that his account must have been received from eye-witnesses." Other accounts are furnished by Knighton, Walsingham, Froissart. Harl MS. No. 4843 contains an ancient monkish poem on it. The confidence of the Scotch King is amusingly represented in the First Part of the ballad. Oddly enough, nothing is said of the Queen, who, though probably Froissart exaggerates the part she played, yet was certainly not remote from the scene of the conflict. One would have expected her presence to have been made much of by the ballad-writer. John Copeland, who captured the King, was a Northumbrian esquire. He was afterwards Governor of Berwick and Sheriff of Northumberland. 1 Fought Oct 1 : 17, 1346, at St, Nevil's inrode (sic) into England by the Scotts, Cross, near Durham. " An excellent" & the taking of their King, while [half scratched out]. — P. Edward 3? was in France. — P. Old Ballad. The Subject is the EURHAM FEILDE. 191 LORDINGES, listen, & hold yo[u] » still hearken to me a litle ; I shall you tell of the fairest battell that euer in England beffell. Listen, and I'll tell you of a fair battle. for as it befell in Edward the 3 d f dayes, 2 in England, where he ware the crowne, then all the cheefe chiualry of England 8 they busked 3 & made them bowne 4 ; When Ed- ward III. was king, all his knights they chosen all the best archers that in England might be found, and all was to fight with the Kmg of ffrance 12 wt'thin a litle stounde. 5 and archers went to fight the French. and when our ~Kmg was ouer the water, and on the salt sea gone, then ty dings into Scotland came 16 that all England was gone ; Then the Scotch hear bowes and arrowes they were all forth, at home was not left a man G but shepards and Millers both, 20 & preists with shauen crownes. that no men are left in England but millers and priests. 24 then the King of Scotts in a study stood, as he was a man of great might ; he sware ' he wold hold his London if he cold ryde there right.' The Scotch king Parlame^i! in leeue 7 swears he'll ride to London. 1 ? MS. ; it may be yo. — F. - when Edward the 3 to Sir Richard of Edinburgh, Bristol and its shire ; to Lord Nevill, Shrewsbury and Coven- try ; to Lord Hambleton, Lincoln- shire. William Douglas reminds the King of his long services, 1 i. e. the Van, the Vanguard. Fr. avant- guarde. L. — P. 2 qu. MS.— F. 3 hreme, ferox, atrox, cruel, sharp, severe. Lye. — P, VOL. II. 4 Marches, confinia, limites, alicujus territorii : refer ad Mark Scut is. March, a landmark, &c. Vid. Lye, ad Jim.— P. 194 DURHAM FEILDE. and asks what his re- ward is to be. 84 " for all the good service that I haue done, what shall my meed bee ? & I will lead the vanward thorrow the English conntrye." " AVhatever you ask," answers James. " Then I ask for London." 88 " aske on, donglas," said the King, " & granted it shall bee." " why then, I aske litle London," saies William Donglas, " gotten giff that it bee." James refuses that, the K«j was wrath, and rose away, saies, " nay, that cannot bee ! for that I will keepe for my cheefe chamber, 92 gotten if it bee ; but gives Douglas N. Wales and Cheshire, " bnt take thee North wales & weschaster, the cnntrye all round about, & rewarded thou shalt bee, 96 of that take thou noe doubt." makes 100 new knights and gives them the English towns. 100 5 score ~knights he made on a day, & dubbd them with, his hands ; rewarded them right worthilye with the townes in merry England. They make ready for battle, & when the fresh "knights they were made, to battell the buske them bowne ; l lames Douglas went before, 104 & he thought to haue wonnen him shoone. but the English Commons meet them, and let none escape ; but the were mett in a morning of May with the coniminaltye of litle England ; but there scaped neuer a man away 108 through the might of christes hand, 1 See Page 397, st. 46 [of MS.].— P. DURHAM FEILDE. 195 112 but all onely lames Douglas ; in Durham in the ffeild an arrow stroke him in the thye. fast flinge[s he] towards the ~King. the Kmg looked toward litle Durham, saies, " all things is not well ! for lames Dowglas beares an arrow in his thye, 116 the head of it is of Steele. except Dougla ;, ■who is wounded and flees to the King. "how now lames ? " then said the YLing, " how now, how may this bee ? & where beene all thy merrymen 120 That thou tooke hence With thee ? " James asks where his men are. [page 247] " but cease, my K%," saies lames l Douglas, " aliue is not left a man ! " "now by my faith," saies the l&ng of scottes, 124 " that gate 2 was euill gone ; All dead. James vows " but He reuenge thy quarrell well, & of that thou may be fame ; for one Scott will beate 5 Englishmen 128 if the meeten them on the plaine." revenge ; one Scot is a match for five English. " now hold jour tounge," saies lames Douglas, " for in faith that is not soe ; for one English man is worth 5 Scotts 132 when they meeten together thoe ; " for they are as Egar men to fight as a faulcon vpon a pray, alas ! if eue>- the wirme the van ward, 136 there scapes noe man away." " No," says Douglas, " one Eng- lishman is worth five Scots ; they let no one escape alive." 1 lanes in the MS.— F. 2 gate, via a way : march or walk. Lye. — P. o 2 196 DURHAM FEILDE. A herald reports to James " peace thy talking," said the King, " they bee but English knanes, but shepards & Millers both, 140 & [mass] preists with their staues." the King sent forth one of his heralds of armes to vew the Englishmen, "be of good cheere," the herald said, that he has English one, 144 " for against one wee bee ten." " who leades those Ladds ? " said the King of Scottes, "thou herald, tell thou mee." the herald said, " the Bishopp of Durham 148 is captaine of that company e ; whom the Bishop of Durham leads. for the Bishopp hath spred the Kings banner & to battell he buskes him bowne," " I sweare by St. Andrewes bones," saies the King, 152 "He rapp that preist on the crowne ! " James sees Lord Percy in the field. 156 2') part<( 160 [Part II.] "The King looked towards litle Durham, & that hee well beheld, that the Earle Percy was well armed, with his battell axe entred the feild. the King looket againe towards litle Durham, 4 ancyents there see hee ; there were to standards, 6 in a valley, he cold not see them with his eye. There, too, are Lords York, Car- lisle, andtwoFitz- williams. My Lord of yorke was one of them, my lord of Carlile was the other ; & my Lord fnuwilliams, 164 the one came with the other. DTK HAM FEILDE. the Bishopp of Durham commanded his men, & shortlye he them bade, ' that neuer a man shold goe to the feild to fight 168 till he had serued his god.' 197 The Bishop orders all his men to hear mass. 500 preists said masse that day in durham in the feild ; & afterwards, as I hard say, 172 they bare both speare & sheeld. 500 priests say it, and then take arms, the Bishopp of Durham * orders himselfe to fight with his battell axe in his hand ; he said, " this day now I will fight 176 as long as I can stand ! " as does the Bishop. " & soe will I," sayd my Lore? of Carlile, " in this faire morning gay ; " " & soe will I," said my Lore? fliuwilliams, 180 " for Mary, that myld may." Carlisle and the Fitzwilliams swear to fight. our English archers bent their bowes shortlye and anon, they shott oner the Scottish Oast 184 & scantlye 2 toucht a man. Our archers first shoot too hkrh. " hold downe jour hands," sayd the Bishopp of Durham, The Bishop orders them " my archers good & true." the 2^ shoote that the shott, 188 full sore the Scottes itt rue. to shoot low. They do, and punish tlir Scots, the Bishopp of Durham spoke on hye that both partyes might heare, "be of good cheere, my merrymen all, 192 the Scotts flyen, & changen there cheere ! " 1 Durban in IMS.— F. 2 scantly, scarcely. — P. 198 DURHAM FEILDE. who fall in heaps. 196 but as the saidden, soe the didden, they fell on heapes hye ; our Englishmen laid on with their bowes as fast as they might dree. King James is shot through the nose, 1 The King of Scotts in a studye stood amongst his companye, an arrow stoke him thorrow the nose 200 & thorrow his armorye. [page 248] gets off his horse, the ~King went to a marsh side & light beside his steede, he leaned him downe on his sword hilts 204 to let his nose bleede. and is sum- moned to yield by an English yeoman , Copland. James refuses, and strikes at Copland, there followed him a yeaman of merry England, his name was lohn of Coplande : "yeeld thee Traytor ! " saies Coplande then, 208 " thy liffe lyes in my hand." " how shold I yeeld me ? " sayes the King, " & thou art noe gentleman." "noe, by my troth," sayes Copland there, 212 "I am but a poore yeaman ; " what art thou better then I, Sir King ? tell me if that thou can ! what art thou better then I, Sir King, 216 now we be but man to man ? " the King smote angerly at Copland then, angerly in that stonde 2 ; & then Copland was a bold yeaman, who floors 220 & bore the King to the ground. 1 Here a short leaf is inserted in the small one of most of his notes. — P. MS. in a more modern hand, Percy's late 2 stound. — ? Percy. upright hand, differing from the early DURHAM FEILDE. 199 he sett the King upon a Palfrey, himselfe upon a steede, he tooke him by the bridle rayne, 224 towards London he can him Lead. puts him on a palfrey. and takes him to London, & when to London that he came, the King from ffrance was new come home, & there unto the Kmg of Scottes 228 he sayd these words anon, where King Edward is. " how like you my shepards & my millers, my priests With shaven crownes ? ' : "by my fayth, they are the sorest fighting men 232 that ever I mett on the ground ; " there was never a yeaman in merry England but he was worth a Scottish knight ! " "I, by my troth," said King Edward, & laughe, 236 " for you fought all against the right." Edward nsks James how he likes his millers and priesl '• They're the hardest fighters I ever met." but now the Prince of merry England worthilye under his Sheelde hath taken the Kmg of ffrance 240 at Poy tiers in the ffeelde. the Prince did present his father with that food, 1 the louely King off ffrance, & fforward of his Iourney he is gone : 244 god send us all good chance ! The King of France is also taken at Poictiers by the Black Prince, " you are welcome, brothers ! " sayd the King of Scotts, and both he ^ and the to the King of ffrance, Scotch King " for I am come hither to soone ; Christ leeve that I had taken my way 248 unto the court of Roome ! " 1 feod or feodary. -P. Person : see note 2 , p. 456, vol. i. — F. 200 DURHAM FEILDE. wish they had kept out of England. Durham Field, Cressy, and Poictiers, all won in a month ! Then was wealth and mirth in England, and the King loved the yeomanry ! God save him, and the yeomen too ! " & soe wold I," said the King of ffrance, " when I came over the streame, that I had taken my Iourney 252 nnto Ierusalem." Thus ends the battell of ffaire Durham in one morning of may, the battell of Cressey, & the battle of Potyers, All within one monthes day. [page 249] 256 260 264 then was welthe & welfare in mery England, Solaces, game, & glee, & every man loved other well, & the King loved good yeomanrye. but God that made the grasse to growe, & leaves on greenwoode tree, now save & keepe our noble King, & maintaine good yeomanry ! ffillis. 1 1 {Pencil note in Percy's late hand.) " This & 2 following Leaves being un- fortunately torn out, in sending the sub- sequent piece [King Estmere] to the Press, the conclusion of the preceding ballad has been carefully transcribed ; and indeed the fragments of the other Leaves ought to have been so." The loss of Kin// Estmere is much to be lamented. It was, perhaps, the best ballad in the Manuscript. Percy says in the 2nd edition of the Reliques, p. 59, that " this old Romantic Legend . . is given from two copies, one of them in the Editor's folio MS."; but we have not been able to find the second copy. It is not in the other small MS. in the posses- sion of the Bishop's descendants now. It is evident at a glance that Percy must have touched up the ballad somewhat, as in line 4 he has y-were, were, for a perfect tense, y being the past participle prefix ; and a comparison of the first three editions with the 4th shows what liberties he took with the (supposed) text of the MS. Some of these will be pointed out in a note at the end of this vol nine. The thing to be noticed here is that Percy must have deliberately and unnecessarily torn three leaves out of his MS. when preparing his 4th edition for the Press, and after he had learnt — to use his own words — to reverence the MS. These leaves were in the MS. till that time, as he says in his note on " 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." As the differences of the fourth from the other editions, after v. 253, are only in spelling louJced, 'looked,' and wyfe, ' wiffe,' we must take the latter part of Percy's sentence to apply to the whole ballad. By tearing out the leaves he has prevented us from knowing the extent of his large changes, and has sacrificed not only the original of the whole of King Estmere but also the first 22 (or more or less) stanzas of Guy and Phil/is, of which his version is printed in the Reliques iii. 143, 4th ed., and Child's Ballads i. 63-6. I calculate Percy's additions to Estmere and the lost part of Guy at 40 lines. — F. 201 [A fragment.] [See the General Introduction to all the Guy Poems in Guy $ Colcbrande below. The beginning of this Poem was on one of the torn-out leaves of the MS. | In winsor fforrest I did slay a bore of passing might & strenght, 2 whose like hi England neuer was 4 for hugnesse, both for breadth & lenght ; some of his bones in warwicke yett w/thin the Castle there doth 3 Lye ; one of his sheeld bones to this day 8 doth hang in the Citye of Couentrye. on Dunsmore heath I alsoe slewe a mightye wyld & cruell beast calld the Duncow of Dunsmore heath, 12 which, many people had opprest ; some of her bones in warwicke yett there for a monument doth 4 lye, which, vnto euery lookers veue 16 as wonderous strange they may espye. another dragon in this Land in fight I alsoe did destroye, who did bothe men & beasts opresse, 20 & all the countrye sore anoye ; & then to warwicke came againe like Pilgrim poore, & was not knowen ; & there I liued a Hermitts liffe 24 a mile & more out of the towne ; [page 254] In Windsor Forest I slew a big boar, some of whose bones are in Warwick Castle and Coventry. On Duns- more Heath I slew the Dun Cow, whose bones are also in Warwick. Another Dragon I also slew, anil then came back tn Warwick, and lived a hermit's life, 1 Title written in by P.— F. 2 stremght in the MS.— F. do.— P. 4 do.— P. 202 GUT AND PIIILLIS. m a cave cut out of a rock, and begged my food at my own castle of my wife. where with my hands I hewed a house out of a craggy rocke of stone, & liued like a palmer poore 28 wt'thin the caue my selfe alone ; & daylye came to begg my foode of Phillis att my castle gate, not knowing l to my loued wiffe, 32 who daylye moned for her mate ; At last I fell sick, sent her a ring, and she closed my dying eyes. I died like a palmer to save my soul. You may see my statue now. till att the last I fell soe sicke, yea, sicke soe sore that I must dye. I sent to her a ring of gold 36 by w/w'ch shee knew me presently e ; then shee, repairing to the graue, befor that I gaue vp the ghost shee closed vp my dying eyes, 40 my Phillis faire, whom I loued most. thus dreadfull death did me arrest, to bring my corpes vnto the graue ; & like a palmer dyed I, 44 wherby I sought my soule to saue. tho now it be consumed to mold, my body that endured this toyle, my stature ingrauen in Mold this present time you may behold. 48 ffins. 1 knowen. — P. 203 The rescue of a prisoner was a favourite subject with the ballad-makers of the Borders. There are in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border " no fewer than three poems on the rescue of prisoners, the incidents in which nearly resemble each other; though the poetical description is so different, that the editor did not think himself at liberty to reject any one of them as borrowed from the others." These three are Jock o' the Side, Kinmont Willie, and Archie of Catfield. The ballad here given for the first time is vitally the same with Jock o' the Side. The persons are partly changed : Sybill o' the Side takes the place of the Lady Downie of Scott's ballad ; Much the Miller's Son answers to the Laird's Saft Wat, though as the Folio copy does not give the names of the five who accompany Hobbie Noble, the Laird's Saft Wat may have been one of them. The incidents differ very slightly : as at Culerton or Cholerford, when the rescuers are going and returning, at Newcastle where the Minstrelsy copy brings in " a proud porter " to be duly made away with, at the gaol on the way back, where that same copy gives the banter with which the heavy-ironed prisoner was assailed by his triumphant friends. The Folio copy is a very fresh, valuable version of the ballad. " The reality of this story," says Scott, " rests solely upon the foundation of tradition. Jock o' the Side seems to have been nephew to the laird of Margertoun, cousin to the Laird's Jock, one of his deliverers, and probably brother to Chrystie of the Syde, mentioned in the list of border clans, 1597. Like the Laird's Jock, he is also commemorated by Sir Eicbard Maitland : 204 JOHN : A : SIDE. He is weil kend, Johne of the Syde, A greater theif did never ryde ; He never tyris For to brek byris, Our inuir and myris Ouir gude and guide. John-a-Side is taken, and sent prisoner to Newcastle. His mother, Sybil], tells Lord Mangerton. PEETER a whifeild 1 he hath slaine ; & Iohn a side, he is tane ; & Iohn is bound both hand & foote, 4 & to the New-castle he is gone. but Tydinges came to the Sybill o the side, by the water side as shee rann ; shee tooke her kirtle by the hem, 8 & fast shee rami to Mangerton. the Lord was sett downe at his meate ; when these tydings shee did him tell, neuer a Morsell might he eate. Lords and Ladies lament, 12 but lords the wrunge their fingars white, Ladyes did pull themselues by the haire, crying " alas and weladay ! for Iohn o the side wee shall neuer see more 2 ! and vow to lose their all or rescue him. 16 " but weele goe sell our droues of Kine, & after them our oxen sell, & after them our troopes of sheepe, but wee will loose him out of the New-castel!." Hobby Noble 20 but then bespake him hobby noble, offers to fetch John, & spoke these words wonderous live, with five . J ' «"«i. sayes " giue me 5 men to my selfe, & He feitch Iohn o the side to thee." [page 255] 1 ? The first i may be t. — F. 2 maire. — P. .John : A : side. 205 24 " yea, thoust kane 5, hobby noble, of the best that are in this conntrye ! lie giue thee 5000, hobby Noble, that walke in Tyuidale trulye." The lord promises 5000 ; 28 " nay, He haue bnt 5," saies hobby Noble, " that shall walke away wi'th mee ; wee will ryde like noe men of warr ; bnt like poore badgers 1 wee wilbe." but Ilobby will only have five, dressed as corn-dealers. 32 they stuff et vp all their baggs w/th straw, & their steeds barefoot mnst bee ; " come on my bretheren," sayes hobby noble, " come on jour wayes, & goe w/th mee." They start, 36 & when they came to Cnlerton 2 ford, the water was vp, they cold it not goe ; & then they were ware of a good old man, how his boy & hee were at the plowe. but at Culerton Ford find the water up. 40 " bnt stand you still," sayes hobby noble, " stand you still heere at this shore, & I will ryde to yonder old man, & see were the gate 3 it Lyes ore. 44 "but christ you saue, father," Q?- 5 : " I know well," sayes Hobby Noble, " Iohn, thy ffellow is not aliue ! " Thereupon John leaps over five horses, 156 then he brought him home to Mangerton ; the Lord then he was att his meate ; but when Iohn o the side he there did see, for faine hee cold noe more eate ; and goes home to Lord Mangerton. ico he sayes "blest be thou, Hobby Noble, th at euer thou wast man borne ! thou hast feitched vs home good Iohn oth side that was now cleane ffrom vs gone ! " ffins. Lord Mangerton blesses Hobby Noble. 1 lough e. — P. 2 stane.— P. VOL. II. 210 mtefnge m tfte ftorflbn 1 This ballad is printed in the Reliques, " from two MS. copies, one of them in the Editor's folio collection. They contained {sic) considerable variable variations, out of which such readings were chosen as seemed most poetical and consonant to history." On the subject see the Introduction to "The Earle of West- morelande," vol. i. p. 292, and Percy's, in the Reliques, i. 248, l s . fc ed. Listen, and I'll tell all about it. LISTEN, liuely lordings all, & all that beene this place wv'thin ! if youle giue eare vnto my songe, 4 I will tell you how this geere did begin. The Earl of Westmore- land turned traitor ; It was the good Erie of westmorlande, a noble Erie was called hee ; & he wrought treason against the crowne ; 8 alas, itt was the more pittye ! so did the Earl of North- umberland. & soe itt was the Erie of Northumberland, another good Noble Erie was hee, they tooken both vpon one part, [page 257] 12 against their crowne they wolden bee. Earl Percy tells his wife he must fight or flee. Earle Pearcy is into his garden gone, & after walkes his awne ladye 2 ; " I heare a bird sing in my eare 16 that I must either flight or fflee." 1 a.d. 1569. N.B.— To correct this by my other copy, w^ich seems more modern. — P. The other copy in many parts preferable to this. — Pencil note. 2 This lady was Anne, daughter of Henry Somerset, E. of Worcester. — Bel. RISINGE IN THE NORTHE. 211 20 " god fforbidd," sliee sajcl, " good my lord, that euer soe that it slialbee ! but goe to London to tbe court, & faire flail truth & honestye ! " She advise3 him to go to court. " but nay, now nay, my La dye gay, that euer it sbold soe bee ; my treason is knowen well enoughe 24 att the court I must not bee." He says his treason is too well known. ' ' but goe to the Court ! yet, good my Lorc7, take men enowe w/th thee ; if any man will doe you wronge, 28 yowr warrant they ' may bee." " but Nay, Now Nay, my Lady gay, for soe itt must not bee ; If I goe to the court, Ladye, 32 death will strike me, & I must dye." She again says, " Go to court with plenty of men.'* No, says the Earl, " it would be certain death. " but goe to the Court ! yett, [good] my Lord, I my-selfe will ryde with thee ; if any man will doe you wronge, 36 yo«r borrow 2 I shalbee." She offers to go with him. " but Nay, Now nay, my Lady gay, for soe it must not bee ; for if I goe to the Court, Ladye, 40 thou must me neuer see. He still refuses, " but come hither, thou litle footpage, come thou hither vnto mee, for thou shalt goe a Message to "Master Norton 44 in all the hast that euer may bee : but sends a page to ask Master Norton 1 altered from them. — F. they. — P. fide jussor, vadimonhim, pigmis. A.-S. 2 Borrow, borow, borge. Sponsor, vas, borge, borhoe, Lye. — P. p2 212 EISINGE IN THE NORTHE. to go with him. The page hurries off to Master Norton, 48 " comend me to that gentleman ; bring him here this letter from mee, & say, ' I pray him Earnestlye that hee will ryde in my companye.' ' but one while the foote page went, another while he rann ; vntill he came to Master Norton, 52 the ffoot page neuer blanne ; J and gives him the letter. & when he came to Master Nortton, he kneeled on his knee, & tooke the letter betwixt his hands, 56 & lett the gentleman it see. Norton asks his son Kester for advice. & when the letter itt was reade affore all his companye, I- wis, 2 if you wold know the truth, 60 there was many a weeping eye. he said, " come hither, Kester 3 Nortton, a ffine ffellow thou seemes to bee ; some good councell, Kester ISTortton, 64 this day doe thou giue to mee." Kester tells him not to draw back from his word. " marry, He giue you councell, ffather, if youle take councell att me, that if you haue spoken the word, father, 68 that backe againe you doe not flee." Norton promises him reward, " god amercy, Christopher Nortton, I say, god amercye ! if I doe Hue & scape wz'th liffe, 72 well advanced shalt thou bee ; 1 cessavit. — P. 2 to wis, to know. Johns. — P. Germ, wissen, 3 Kester, Christopher. Northern. Hal- liweli's Glossary. — F. RISINGE IN THE NOETIIE. 213 76 " but come you hither, my 9 good sonnes, in mens estate I thinke you bee ; how many of you, my children deare, on my -part that wilbe ? " and asks his own nine sons who will be on his side. but 8' h of them did answer soone, & spake ffull hastilye, sayes " we wilbe on yonr part, ffather, 80 till the day that we doe dye." Eight vow to be with him to the death. " but god amercy, my children deare, & euer I say godamercy ! & yett my blessing you shall haue, 84 whether-soeuer I Hue or dye. [page 238] " but what sayst thou, thou ffrancis Nortton, mine eldest sonne & mine heyre trulye ? some good councell, ffrancis Nortton, 88 this day thou giue to me." He asks his eldest son, Francis, for advice ; " but I will giue you councell, ffather, if you will take councell att mee ; for if you wold take my councell, father, 92 against the crowne you shold not bee." and he answers Don't go against the Crown. " but ffye vpon thee, ffrancis Nbrtton ! I say ffye vpon thee ! when thou was younge & tender of age 96 I made ffull much of thee." Noi-ton reproaches his son Francis, "but jour head is white, ffather," he sayes, " & jour beard is wonderous gray ; itt were shame ffor your country e li)o if you shold rise & fflee away." 214 RISINGE IN THE NORTHE. and calls Trim a coward. Francis offers to go unarmed, but invokes death on traitors. Norton and his men join the Earls "but ffye vpon thee, thou coward ffrancis ! thou neuer tookest that of mee ! when thou was younge & tender of age 104 I made too much of thee." "but I will goe with you, father," Quoth, hee ; " like a Naked man will I bee ; he that strikes the first stroake against the crowne, 103 an ill death may hee dye ! " but then rose vpp Master Nortton that Esqm'er, with him a ffull great companye ; & then the Erles they comen downe 112 to ryde in his companye. at Wether- by; they have 13,000 men. att whethersbye the mustered their men vpon a ffull fayre day ; 13000 there were seene 116 to stand in battel ray. 1 Westmore- land's standard is the Dun Bull, the Erie of Westmoreland, he had in his ancyent 2 the Dume bull in sight most hye, & 3 doggs with golden collers 120 were sett out royallye. North um- berland's the half-moon. 124 the Erie of Northumberland, he had ancyent 3 the halfe moone in sight soe hye, as the Lore? was crucifyed on the crosse, & sett forthe pleasantlye. m his 1 array. — P. 2 Ensign, standard. See vol. i. p. 304, for the Dun Bull. That of Nevill (Chevet, Co. York ; granted 1513), is "A greyhound's head erased or, charged on the neck with a label of three points, vert, between as many pellets, one and two." The crest of Nevill (Ireland), is a greyhound's head, erased argent, collared gules, charged with a harp or. Burke's Armorie. — P. 3 Burke gives the Percy (Duke of Northumberland) badge as ' A crescent argent within the horns, per pale, sable and gules, charged with a double manacle, fesseways or.' Armorie, 1847. — F. EISINGE IN THE NORTHE. 215 & after them did rise good Sir George Bowes, 1 after tliem a spoyle to make ; the Erles returned backe againe, 128 thought euer that Kw'(//(t to take. Sir G. Bowes rises behind them. They turn back, this Barron did take a Castle then, was made of lime & stone ; the vttermost walls were ese to be woon ; 132 the Erles haue woon them anon ; take the outer walls of his castle but tho they woone the vttermost walls quickly and anon, the innermust 2 walles the cold not winn, 136 the were made of a rocke of stone. but newes itt came to leeue London in all they speede that euer might bee ; & word it came to our royall Queene 1 40 of all the rebells in the North countrye. shee turned her grace then once about, & like a royall Queene shee sware, 3 sayes, "I will ordaine them such a breake-fast 144 as was not in the North this 1000 yeere! " but can't win the inner. News of the rebellion reaches London. Elizabeth swears she'll give the rebels a breakfast they won't stomach. shee caused 30000 men to be made w/th horsse and harneis all quicklye ; & shee caused 30000 men to be made 148 to take the rebells in the North countrye. She sends ao (100 men against them they tooke with them the false Erie of Warwicke, unto Lord •> Warwick. soe did they many 4 another man ; vntill they came to yorke Castle, 1 52 I- wis they neuer stinted nor blan. They march to York, 1 Bowes. — P. 2 imermust in MS.— P. 3 This is quite in character : her ma- jesty would sometimes swear at her nobles, as well as hox their ears. liques, i. 255. — F. 1 Only half the n in the MS.— F Be- 216 RISINGE IN THE NOKTHE. but West- moreland, Northum- berland, and Norton flee like cowards. 156 " spread thy ancyent, Erie of Westmoreland ! The halfe moone ffaine wold wee see ! " [ pa ge 259] but the halfe moone is fled & gone, & the Dun bull vanished awaye ; & ffrancis Nortton & his 8 sonnes are filed away most cowardlye. Ladds with mony are counted men, 160 men without mony are counted none ; but hold jouv tounge ! why say you soe ? men wilbe men when mony is gone. ffins. 217 ^ortbuntfierlanti : 33etrayti I>p : JBolxigla^ 1 [A Sequel to the preceding. — P.] This ballad is printed in the Reliqu.es (from another copy) and elsewhere. After the dispersion of their forces, the rebel Earls of Westmoreland and Northumberland sought refuge in the Borders. See Introduction to Earl of Westmoreland, vol. i. p. 294. Neville found his trust in the Borderers justified ; but Percy was betrayed to the Regent Moray by Hector Graham (not Armstrong, as the ballad, v. 209, calls him) of Harkw ; whose name became thenceforward infamous, to take Hectoi^s cloke becoming a proverbial phrase for betraying a friend. Moray's successor, the Earl of Morton, who during his exile in England has received many kindnesses from Northumberland, "sold his unhappy prisoner to Elizabeth," in May 1572. He delivered him up to Lord Hunsdon, governor of Berwick, who sent him to York, where he was executed. The extradition of the refugee by Morton gave as deep dis- satisfaction to the country at large as his betrayal by Hector of Harlaw did to the Borderers. Many furious ballads made their appearance, as — ' Ane exclamation maid in England upone the delyverance of the Erie of Northumberlan furth of Lochlevin, quho immediattlie thairefter was execute in Yorke, 1572 ' — the answer to the English ballad, ' Ane schort inveccyde maid aganis the delyverance of the Erie of Northumberland.' The present 1 Whose Sister being an enchantress omitted here. — P. would have saved him, from her Brother's N.B. The other Copy begins with treachery. — P. Lines the same as that in pag. 112. This song seems unfinished. — P. [Ear/e of West morel ande i. 300.] The N.B. My other Copy is more correct minstrels often made such Changes. than this, and contains much w/«'ch is — Pencil note. 218 NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYD BY DOWGLAS. ballad so far recognises this national feeling as to introduce a Scotch woman using her utmost endeavours to preserve the Earl, from the snare laid for him. Mary Douglas 1 represents Scotia. But the Earl will not listen. He goes away with her brother, his keeper, to be the victim of a second betrayal, which was finally to conduct him to the scaffold at York. I'll tell you how Douglas betrayed banished Percy. NOW list & lithe you gentlemen, & 1st tell yon the veretye, how they haue delt with a banished man, 4 drinen ont of his conntrye. when as hee came on Scottish ground, as woe & wonder be them amonge, ffull much was there traitorye 8 the wrought the Erie of Northumberland. At supper they ask Percy when they were att the supper sett, beffore many goodly gentlemen the ffell a fflouting & Mocking both, 12 & said to the Erie of Northumberland, to go to a shooting in Scotland. "what makes you be soe sad, my Lord, & in yo?tr mind soe sorrowffullye ? in the North of Scottland to-morrow theres a shooting, 1G & thither thoust goe, my 'Lord Percye. " the buttes are sett, & the shooting is made, & there is like to be great royaltye, & I am sworne into my bill 20 thither to bring my Lord Pearcy." 1 " The interposal of the witch-lady f 1. 26, here] is probably his [the northern bard's] 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 Loughleven, had suffered death for the pretended crime of witchcraft ; who, it is presumed, is the lady alluded to in verse " [101 here]. Ediques, i. 258.— F. NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYD BY DOWGLAS. 219 24 " lie giue thee my Land, 1 Douglas," he sayes, & be the faith in niy bodye, if that thou wilt ryde to the worlds end, He ryde in thy company e." Percy pro- mises to go with Douglas. & then bespake the good Ladye, — Marry a Douglas was her name, — " you shall byde here, good English Lo/ 28 my brother is a traiterous man ; " he is a traitor stout & stronge, as 1st 2 tell you the veretye, for he hath tane liuerance of the Erie, 3 32 & into England he will liuor thee." Mary Douglas warns Percy that her brother is a traitor and will give him up to the English. " now hold thy tounge, thou goodlye Ladye, & let all this talking bee ; ffor all the gold thats in Loug Leuen, 4 36 williara wold not Liuor mee ! Percy de- clares that he trusts Douglas. "it wold breake truce betweene England & Scottland, & freinds againe they wold neuer bee if he shold liuor a bani[s]ht 5 Erie 40 was driuen out of his owne countrye." " hold jour tounge, my Lore?," shee sayes, " there is much Falsehood them amonge ; when you are dead, then they are done, 44 soone they will part them freinds againe. Mary Douglas " if you will giue me any trust, my Lord, He tell you how you best may bee ; youst lett my brother ryde his wayes, 48 & tell those English Lords truly e 1 hand. Rdiqv.es. — F. 2 I'll. See note 4, p. 20, vol. i.— F. 3 pay " of the earl of Morton : " James Douglas, Earl of Morton, elected regent of Scotland, Nov. 24, 1572. p. 251, 259.— F. 4 Lough Lt-ven. — P. 5 banisht.— P. advises Percy to let Douglas go alone, Rd. vol. i. 220 NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYD BY DOWGLAS. and then she'll see him safe " how that you cannot with them ryde because you are in an He of the sea l ; then, ere my Brother come againe, 52 to Edenborrow castle 2 He carry thee, into Lord Hume's hands. " lie liuor you vnto the hord Hume, & you know a trew Scothe LorcZ is hee, for he hath lost both Land & goods 56 in ay ding of your good bodye." Percy says that no friend shall suffer for him again, his old ad- herents have suffered enough. Mary Douglas offers to prove her words. Percy will have nothing to do with her witch- craft. " marry ! I am woe ! woman," he sayes, " that any freind fares worse for mee ; for where one saith ' it is a true tale,' 60 then' 2 will say it is a Lye. " when I was att home in my [realme,] 3 amonge my tennants all trulye, in my time of losse, wherin my need stoode, 64 they came to ayd me honestlye ; " therfore I left many a child ffatherlese, & many a widdow to looke wanne ; & therfore blame nothing, Ladye, 68 but the woenull warres w7wch I began." " If you will giue me noe trust, my Lore?, nor noe credence you will give mee, & youle come hither to my right hand, 72 indeed, my Lord, 4 He lett you see." saies, " I neuer loued noe witchcraft, nor neuer dealt with treacherye, but euermore held the hye way ; 76 alas ! that niay be seene by mee ! " [page 200] 1 i.e. Lake of Leven, which hath com- munication with the sea. — Bel. i. 261. 2 At that time in the hands of the opposite faction. — Bel. 3 This line is partly pared away. — F. 4 ? MS. Lorid, or Loufrd ; or Lord, with one stroke too many. — F. NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYD BY DOWGLAS. 221 80 " if you will not come jour selfe, nry Lore?, youle lett jour chaniberlaine goe w/th raee, 3 words that I may to him speake, & soone he shall come againe to thee." liar; Douglas shows the chamberlain when lames Swynard came that Lady before, through her shee let him see thorrow the weme l of her ring in wait for Percy : how many there was of English lords 84 to wayte there for his Master and him. " but who beene yonder, my 2 good Ladye, that walkes soe royallye on yonder greene ? " " yonder is ~Lord Hunsden, 3 Iamye," she saye ; 88 "alas ! heele doe you both tree 4 & teene ! " " & who beene yonder, thou gay Ladye, that walkes soe royallye him beside ? " "yond is Sir william Drurye, 5 Iamy," shee sayd, 92 " & a keene Captam hee is, and tryde." Lord Huns- den, and Sir SVm. Drurye, 96 " how many miles is itt, thou good Ladye, betwixt yond English Lord and mee ? " " marry, 3 8 f 50 mile, Iamy," shee sayd, " & euen to seale 6 & by the sea : (150 miles off, " I neuer was on Enghsh ground, nor neuer see itt with mine eye, but as my witt & wisedome serues, 100 and as [the] booke it telleth mee. " my mother, shee was a witch woman, and part of itt shee learned mee ; shee wold let me see out of Lough Leuen 104 what they dyd in London Cytye." as her mother's "witchcraft, tells her.) 1 weme, the Scottish word for the belly, i. e. womb. — P. 2 ny in MS.— F. 3 The Lord Warden of the East Marches.— Rel. i. 263. 4 dre, dree, to suffer, endure. — P. 5 Governor of Berwick. — Rcl. i. 264. 6 saile.— P. 222 NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYD BY DOWGLAS. and Sir J. Forster. " but who is yond, thou good Layde, that comes yonder with an Osterne l fface ? " " yonds Sir Iohn fforster, 2 Iamye," shee sayd ; 108 " methinkes thou sholdest better know him then I." " Euen soe I doe, my goodlye Ladye, & euer alas, soe woe am I ! " The cham- berlain weeps, and tells Lord Percy he pulled his hatt ouer his eyes, ] 12 &, lord, he wept soe tenderlye ! he is gone to his Master againe, & euen to tell him the veretye. that Mary " Now hast thou beene with Marry, Iamy," he sayd, 116 " Euen as thy tounge will tell to mee; but if thou trust in any womans words, thou must refraine good companye." has shown him the English Lords wait- ing to take him, "It is noe words, my Lord," he sayes, 120 "yonder the men shee letts me see, how many English Lords there is is wayting there for you & mee ; Hunsden rd " y on der I see ^ ne Lord Hunsden, 124 & hee & you is of the 3 d . degree ; his greatest a greater eneniye, indeed, my Lord, in England none haue yee," enemy. Percy says that he's been three years in jail, " & I haue beene in Lough Leven 128 the most pcwt of these yeeres 3 : yett had I neuer noe out-rake, 3 nor good games that I cold see ; 1 Austerne, austere, fierce. L. austerus. Gloss, ad G.D.— P. 2 Warden of the Middle March.— Bel. i. 264. 3 rake raik, ambulare, expatiari. As Isl. reika. Raik gradus citatus, a long raik, Iter longum, to raik home, ac- celerate gradu domum abire; hinc a Rake, homo dissolutus ; an out-raik, a Eiot, at large. Lye. See G.D. 224. 39. —P. NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYD BY DOWGLAS. 223 " & I am thus bidden to yonder shooting 132 by william Douglas all truly e ; therfore speake neuer a word out of thy mouth That thou thinkes will hinder mee. 1 [page26i] and he will go to the shooting with Douglas. then he writhe the gold ring of his ffingar 2 136 & gaue itt to that Ladye gay; sayes, " that was a legacy e left vnto mee in Harley woods where I cold 3 bee." He gives Mary a gold " then ffarewell hart, & farewell hand, 140 and ffarwell all good companye ! that woman shall neuer beare a sonne shall know soe much of your priuitye. She laments over him. " now hold thy tounge, Ladye," hee sayde, 144 " & make not all this dole for mee, for I may well drinke, but 1st neuer eate, till againe in Lough Leuen I bee." He says he shall soon be back, he tooke his boate att the Lough Leuen 148 for to sayle now ouer the sea, & he hath cast vpp a siluer wand, saies " fare thou well, my good Ladye ! the Ladye looked ouer her left sholder ; 152 in a dead swoone there fell shee. and gets into the boat to sail away. Mary Do ugl swoons. " goe backe againe, Douglas ! " he sayd, " & I will goe in thy companye, for sudden sicknesse yonder Lady has tane, 156 and euer, alas, shee will but dye ! Percy asks her brother to return, as she will die. 1 Part ctit away by the binder.— Percy gives the verse as : Therefore I'll to yond shooting wend, As to the Douglas I have hight : -F. Betide me weale, betide me woe, He ne'er shall find my promise light. 2 A.-S. wriSan to twist: perf. wra$ twisted.— F. 3 did.— F. 224 NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYD BY DOWGLAS. 160 "if ought come to yonder Ladye but good, then blamed fore that I shall bee, because a banished man I am, & driuen out of my owne countrye." Douglas refuses ; theladiescan look after his sister. " come on, come on, my Lord," he sayes, " & lett all such talking bee ; theres Ladyes enow in Lough Leuen, 164 & for to cheere yonder gay Ladye." Percy aiks that his Chamberlain may go back with him. " & you will not goe jour selfe, my lord, you will lett my chamberlaine goe with mee ; wee shall now take our boate againe, 168 & soone wee shall ouertake thee." Douglas says it's only his sister's tricks. " come on, come on, my Lord," he sayes, " & lett now all this talking bee ! ffor my sister is craftye enoughe 172 for to beguile thousands such as you & mee." They sail 50 miles : the Cham- berlain asks how far it is to the shooting. Douglas says he'll never see it. When they had sayled l 50 : myle, now 50 mile vpon the sea, hee had fForgotten a message that hee 176 shold doe in lough Leuen trulye : hee asked ' how ffarr it was to that shooting. that -william Douglas promised mee.' now faire words makes fooles faine 2 ; 180 & that may be seene by thy ~M.aster & thee ; ffor you may happen think 3 itt soone enoughe when-euer you that shooting see." 1 There is no navigable stream between Lough-leven and the sea: but a ballad- maker is not obliged to understand Geo- graphy.— Bel. i. 266. 2 Belle promcsse fol lie: Prov. Faire promises oblige the fool ; or, are noe better than fopperies ; (for the words fol lie equivocate vnto folie.) Domes pro- messes obligcnt les fols : Prov. Faire promises oblige fools ; or, (as our) faire words make fools faine. — F. 3 A Lancashire phrase. — F. NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYD BY DOWGLAS. 225 Iamye pulled his liatt now oner his browe ; 184 I wott the teares fell in his eye ; & he is to his "Master againe, & ffor to tell him the veretye : Jamie " he sayes, fayre words makes fooles faine, 188 & that may be seene by you and mee, ffor wee may happen thinke itt soone enoughe when-euer wee that shooting see." tells Percy Douglas's words. " hold vpp thy head, Iamye," the Erie sayd, 192 & neuer lett thy hart fayle thee ; he did itt but to proue thee with, & see how thow wold take with death trulye." Percy says Douglas was only trying his courage. when they had sayled other 50 mile, 196 other 50 mile vpon the sea, LorcZ Peercy called to him, himselfe, & sayd, "Douglas what wilt thou doe with mee ? " After 100 miles' sail, Percy asks Douglas what he'll do with him. " looke that jour brydle be wight, my Lord, 200 that you may goe as a shipp att sea ; looke that jour spurres be bright & sharpe, that you may pricke her while sheele awaye." Douglas tells him to have his bridle and spurs ready. " what needeth this, Douglas," he sayth. 204 " that thou needest to ffloute mee ? for I was counted a horsseman good before that euer I mett with thee. Percy asks "why this mockery ? " A ffalse Hector hath my horsse ; 208 & euer an euill death may hee dye ! & willye Armestronge hath my spurres & all the geere belongs to mee." VOL. II. Q [page 262] My hoi and spurs are in others' hands." 226 NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYD BY DOWGLAS. After 150 miles' sail, Percy is landed and betrayed on English soil. when the had sayled other 50 mile, 212 other 50 mile vpon the sea, the landed low by Barwicke side ; a deputed land l Landed liord Percye. frm[s 2 ]. 1 So in MS. Percy prints 'The Douglas' in Eel. i. 268, and winds up with an added stanza : Then he at Yorke was doomde to dye, It was, alas ! a sorrowful sight : Thus they betrayed that noble earle, AVho ever was a gallant wight. — F. 2 s pared off by the binder. — F. 227 (Buyt : of : <8teborne : ' [The fight between him and Eobin Hood. — P, ] This ballad was printed from the Folio in the Reliques, and from the Reliques by Eitson, Child, and others. " As for Guy of Gisborne," says Eitson, " the only further memorial which has occurred concerning him is in an old satirical piece by William Dunbar, a celebrated Scottish poet of the fifteenth century, on one Schir Thomas Nory (MS. Maitland, p. 3, MMS. More (1. 5. 10) where he is named along with our hero, Adam Bell, and other worthies, it is conjectured of a similar stamp, but whose merits have not, less fortunately, come to the knowledge of posterity. Was novir Weild Bobeine under bewch, Nor yitt Eoger of Clekkinslowch So bauld a bairne as he ; Gy of Gisborne, na Allane Bell, Na Simones Sones of Qntrynsell Off thocht war nevir slie. Gisborne is a market town in the west riding of the county of York, on the borders of Lancashire. WHEN shales beeene sheene, & shradds 2 full fayre, it is merry & leeues both Large & longe, the forest in itt is merrry walking in the fayre fforrest 4 to heare the small birds singe. 3 1 A very curious Old Song, much more ary, 1593, Halliwell. Shradd is a twig, ancient and perfect than the common either from " shred, to cut off the smaller printed Ballads of Eobin Hood. — P. branchesof a tree," or "schraas, the clip 2 Shale, a husk. The shales or pings of live fences." Halliwell. — F. stalkes of hempe. Hollyband's Diction' s songe. — P. Q 2 228 GUYE OF GISBOHNE. Robin Hood dreams that two yeomen the woodweete sansf & wold not cease amongst the leanes a lyne ; J r w ■%? * tp w " 2 & it is by 2 3 wight yeomen, by deare god that I meane : beat hiin. He vows revenge on them, "me thought they did mee beate & binde, & tooke my bow mee froe : If I bee Robin a-liue in this Lande, 12 lie be wrocken on both them to we." and orders his men to go with him. They all start, and soon see one yeoman, " sweeuens 4 are swift, Master," quoth Iohn, " as the wind that blowes ore a hill ; ffor if itt be neuer soe lowde this night, 16 to-morrow it may be still." " buske 5 yee, bowne yee, my merry men all ! ffor Iohn shall goe with, mee ; for He goe seeke yond wight yeomen 20 in greenwood where the bee." the cast 6 on their gowne of greene ; 7 a shooting gone are they vntill they came to the Merry greenwood 24 where they had gladdest bee ; there were the ware of [a] wight yeoman ; his body Leaned to a tree, 1 of lime: I would read ' so greene.' — P. 2 As the lines that follow are part of a Speech of Robin hood relating a dream: there are certainly some lines wanting and we can no where better fix the hiatus than between the 2? & 3 i Sheriff vows the sherifie, 1 he shall be 80 " & hanged hye on a hill." " but thou may ffayle," qwth litle Iohn, ^|!f " if itt be christs owne will. ' ' ^ itile let vs leaue talking of Litle Iohn, 84 for hee is bound fast to a tree, & talke of Guy & Robin hood in they 2 green woode where they bee ; Let us turn to Guy and Robin. how these 2 yeomen together they mett 88 vnder the leaues of Lyne, 3 to see what Marchandise they made euen at that same time. " good morrow, good fellow ! " qwoth S^r Guy ; 92 " good morrow, good ffellow ! " quoth, hee ; " methinkes by this bow thou beares in thy hand, a good archer 4 thou seems to bee. 5 G-uy greets Robin " I am wilfull 6 of my way," quoth Sir Guye, 96 " & of my morning tycle." " He lead thee through the wood," qwoth Robin, " good ifellow, He be thy guide." " I seeke an outlaw," qwoth S/r Guye, 100 " men call him Robin Hood ; I had rather meet with, him vpon a day 7 then 40 1 .! of golde." and tells him he seeks an outlaw, Robin Hood. 1 These three words seem added by * An e has been added at the end. — F. some explainer. — P. s shozddest bee. — P. 2 the. — P. 6 probably the same as " wilsome," 3 perhaps Lime ; tho' Line or Lyne is page 357 [of MS.] st. 6. — P. more common in these old ballads. — P. 7 this day. — -P. 232 GUYE OF GISBOENE. Robin pro- poses some sport. " if yon tow mett, itt wold be seene whether were better 104 afore yee did part awaye ; let vs some other pastime find, good ffellow, I thee pray. 1 No doubt, as they go on, they'll meet Robin Hood. -J They make pricks ready to shoot at. " let vs some other mastery es make, 108 & wee will walke in the woods euen, wee may chance 2 mee[t] with Robin Hoode att some vnsett steven." 3 they cutt them downe the 4 summer shroggs s 1 1 2 which grew both vnder a Bryar, 6 & sett them 3 score rood in twinn 7 to shoote the prickes fall neare. 8 "leade on, good ffellow," sayd Sir Guye, 1 1 G " lead 9 on, I doe bidd thee." "nay, by my faith," quoth Robin Hood, "the leader thou shaft bee." 1 Percy alters this in his Beliqucs, i. 81, 1st ed., to Now come with me, thou wighty yeman, And Eobin thou soon shalt see : But first let us some pastime find Under the greenwood tree. 2 to.— P. 3 See page 358, st. 16.— P. unfixed, unexpected moment. There is a stroke before the v of steven in the MS. — F. 1 two.— Eel. 5 scrog, a stunted shrub: Jamieson. —P. 8 pronounced Breer in some p«rts of England. — P. Bryar is entered in Levin's, 1570, under the words in eare. 7 1 1 part. — F. 8 y-fere. — Bel. Threescore roods or 330 yards must have been a long range. Tin' Prickc-wandes were, I suppose, willow wands or long thin branches stuck in the ground to shoot at. Prickes seem to have been the long-range targets, butts the near. Moll. Out upon him, what a suiter have I got ; I am sorry you are so bad an Archer, sir. Eare. "Why Bird, why Bird ? Moll. Why, to shoote at Buts, when you shou'd use prick-shafts, short- shoot- ing will loose ye the game, I as[sure] you, sir. Eare. Her minde runnes sure upon a Fletcher, or a Bowyer, 1633, Eowley. A Match at Midnight, Act ii. sc. 1. " Modern prick shooting is practised by the Royal Archers at Edinburgh, and is their favourite, at a small round target fixed at 1 80 yards," says Mr. Peter Muir, their Bowmaker. See my note on pricks in The Bahccs Boke §c. 1868, p. ci.— F. 9 i.e. begin to shoot. — P. GUYE OF GISBORNE. 233 the first good shoot that Robin ledd, 120 did not shoote an inch the pricke l ffroe. Guy was an archer good enoughe, but he cold neere shoote soe. Robin shoots first, an inch from the prick. the 24 shoote 2 Sir Guy shott, 124 he shott within the garlande ; but Robin hoode shott it better then bee, for he cloue the good pricke wande. Guy next, within the garland. Robin then cleaves the prick -wand. " gods blessing on thy heart ! " sayes Guye, 128 " goode ffellow, thy shooting is goode ; for on 3 thy hart be as good as thy hands, thou were better then Robin Hood. [page 264] " Bless your heart, you shoot well," says Guy. "tell me thy name, good ffellow," quoth Guy, 132 " vnder the leaues of Lyne." "nay, by my faith," quoth good Robin, "till thou haue told me thine." " Tell me your name." " Not till you tell me yours." " I dwell by dale & downe," quoth Guye, 136 " & I haue done many a curst turne ; & he that calles me by my right name, calles me Guye of good Gysborne." " my dwelling is in the wood," sayes Robin ; 140 "by thee I set right nought ; my name is Robin Hood of Barnesdalc, a ffellow thou has long sought." " Mine is Guye of Gysborne." "And mine Robin Hoed of Barnes- dale." he that had neither beene a 4 kithe nor kin 5 144 might haue seene a full fayre sight, to see how together these yeomen went with blades both brown e & bright ; It was a pretty sight to see 'em fight. 1 was not an Inch the prick. — P. 2 that inserted by P.— F. :l an, or and. — P. 4 a delend. — P. 3 neither acquaintance nor relation. -P. 234 GUYE OF GISBORNE. Neither thinks of flying. to haue seene how these yeomen together foug[ht] 148 2 howers of a summers day : itt was neither Guy nor Robin hood that Settled them to flye away. But Robin stumbles, and Guy- hits him. Robin was reacheles l on a roote, 152 & stumbled 2 at that tyde ; & Guy was quiche & nimble with-all, & hitt him ore the left side. Robin calls on the Virgin, " ah, deere Lady ! " sayd Robin hoode, 156 " thou art both Mother & may ! I thinke it was neuer mans destinye to dye before his day." leaps up, kills Sir Guy, sticks his head on his bow, Robin thought on our Lady deere, 160 & soone leapt vp againe; & thus he came with an awkwarde 3 stroke ; good Sir Guy bee has slayne. he tooke Sir Guys head by the hayre, 164 & sticked itt on his bowes end ; " thou hast beene traytor all thy liffe, which thing must haue an ende." s lashes his face till no one can know him, Robin pulled forth an Irish kniffe, 168 & nicked Sir Guy in the fface, that hee was neuer on 4 a woman borne cold tell who Sir Guye was : saies, " lye there, lye there, good Sir Guye, 172 & with me be not wrothe ; if thou haue had the worse stroakes at my hand, thou shalt haue the better cloathe." ' i.e. careless. — P. 2 he stumbled. — P. 3 perhaps backward. — P. 4 of woman. — P. GUYE OF GISBORNE. 235 Robin did on l his gowne of greene, 176 [on] Sir Guye 2 hee did it throwe ; & hee put on that Capull hyde that cladd him topp 3 to toe. " the 4 bowe, the 4 arrowes, & Htle home, 180 & 5 with me now He beare ; ffor now I will goe to Barnsdale, to see how my men doe ffare." Robin sett Guyes home to his mouth ; 184 a lowd blast in it he did blow. that beheard the Sheriffe of Nottingham as he leaned vnder a lowe 6 ; "hearken ! hearken ! " sayd the Sheriffe, 188 "I heard noe ty dings but good ; for yonder I heare Sir Guyes home bio we, for he hath slaine Robin hoocle : throws his own green coat on tho corpse, puts on Sir Guy's horse- hide, and takes his horn, and blows it, The Sheriff hears it, thinks Guy has slain Robin Hood, " for yonder I heare Sir Guyes home blow, 192 itt blowes soe well in tyde, for yonder comes that wighty yeoman cladd in his capull hyde. " come hither, 7 thou good Sir Guy ! 196 aske of mee what thou wilt haue ! " "He none of thy gold," sayes Robin hood, nor He none of itt haue 8 ; " but now I haue slaine the Master," he sayd, [page 2G5] 200 let me goe strike the knaue ; this is all the reward I aske, nor noe other will I haue." and promises him what- ever reward he asks. Robin asks leave to kill Little John. 1 off.— P. 2 On Sir Guy.— P. 3 from topp. — P. 4 thy.— Eel. 5 and delend. — P. u perhaps bowe. — P. hill, A.-S. hlcetv. —F. 7 come hither [repeated]. — P. 9 Perhaps None of it I will have or Nor nothing else 111 have. — P. 236 GUYE OP GISBORNE. The Sheriff grants it. " tliou art a Madman," said the shiriffo, 204 " thou sholdest haue had a knights ffee. seeing thy asking beene ' soe badd, well granted it shall be." but litle Iohn heard his Master speake, 208 well he knew that was his steuen 2 ; Little John knows Robin's voice, and thinks « now g^aH I fa loset, 3 " quoth, litle Iohn, JlG -Mini uQ freed. C£ ,J -i- ^i~™~i-« ,™.!™i-.j- *■*-* "L ,-*<-»-.-. ^-« '• " with Christs might in heauen.' The Sheriff and his men press on them. but Robin hee hyed him towards Litle Iohn ; 212 hee thought hee wold loose him beliue. the Sheriffe & all his companye fast after him did driue. Robin orders them back, " stand abacke ! stand abacke ! " sayd Robin : 216 " why draw you mee soe neere ? itt was neuer the vse in our countrye ones shrift 4 another shold heere." looses Little John, and gives him Guy's bow. but Robin pulled forth an Irysh kniffee, 220 & losed Iohn hand & ffoote, & gaue him Sir Guyes bow in his hand, & bade it be his boote. Little John prepares to shoot. 5 but Iohn tooke Guyes bow in his hand, 224 his arrowes were rawstye by the roote ; the Sherriffe saw litle Iohn draw a bow & ffettle him to shoote ; 1 bath been. — P. 2 i. e. voice. — P. 8 loosed. — P. 4 i. e. confession. — P. 5 Tben John be took Gnyes bowe in bis band, His boltes and arrowes eche one : When tbe sheriffe saw Little John bend his bow. He fettled him to be gone. —Bel. ? is rawstye, 1. 224, rusty. Rawly is rude; unskilful. Halliwell. — F. GUYE OF GISBORNE. 237 towards his house in Nottingam 22S he filed full fast away, — & soe did all his companye, not one behind did stay, — The Sheriff takes to flight, but he cold neither soe fast goe, 232 nor away soe fast runn, 1 but litle Iohn with an arrow broade did cleaue his heart in twinn. 2 ffins. but can't get away from Little John's arrow, which cleaves his heart. 1 ryde. — Bel. put your inverted commas too, as if 2 He shott him into the ' backe '- you'd only altered the one word ' backe.' syde. — Bel. Too bad, Bishop! And to — F. 238 This ballad is to be found in Dryden's Miscellany Poems, in the 1727 Collection of Old Ballads, and elsewhere. The subject is the well-known quarrel between the Earls of Hereford and Norfolk, 2 which finally resulted in their banish- ment in 1398. A full description of the Lists of Coventry (in September, not August) is given by Hall. 3 The ballad's account of the origin of the quarrel is not quite fair. Hereford accused Norfolk, not Norfolk Hereford, of treason. But the ballad goes with the winning side. Vox populi mostly shouts in favour of the successful. The cause pleases it that " pleases the gods.'' The ballad is evidently written by a practised ballad-writer, some time about 1600 probably. But it may have been founded on some older one. The subject is not likely to have lain uncelebrated till late in Elizabeth's reign. I sing the J-OWE noble dukes of great renowne noble Dukes, that long had fiued in ffarne 3 throug ffatall envye were cast downe 4 & brought to sudden bane ; Hereford the Duke of Hereford was the one, a prudent prince & wise, gainst whom such mallice there was showen, 8 -which soone in fight did rise. 1 In the printed Collection of old fashions before his time were his own Ballads, 1727, Vol. i. p. 120. N. XV., fabrication, though adopted as genuine and in Dryden's Misc. Vol. 5. 382. — P. by Gough and Sharon Turner. Planch/; 2 See Shakspere's Richard II. — F. Hist, of Costume, p. 223. — F. 3 Hall's descriptions of armour and IIEKEFFORD AND NORFOLKE. 239 12 the Duke of Norfolke most vntrue ' declared to the King, " the duke of Hereford greatly grew in hatred of eche thinge and Norfolk. Norfolk de- nounces Hereford which, by his grace was acted still against both hye & lowe, & how he had a traiterous will 16 his state to ouerthrowe." to the King as a traitor. 20 the Duke of Hereford then in hast was sent for to the Kinge, & by his lords in order placet examined in eche thinge ; The King sends for Hereford, has him examined, w7«'ch being guiltelesse of that crime which, was against him layd, the duke of Norfolke at that time 2 24 these words vnto him sayd : and he is guiltless. Norfolk " how canst thou With a shamelesse face deny a truth soe stout, & there before his royall grace 28 soe falselye faced itt out ? reproves him for his shameless- ness, " did not these treasons from thee passe when wee together were, how that the Kmg vnworthye was 32 the royall crowne to weare ? declares Hereford has [page 2(Hi] talked treason, " wherfore, my gracyous Lords" quoth, hee, " & you, his Noble Peeres, to whom I wish long liffe to bee, 36 with many happy yeeres, 1 Only half the u in the MS.— F. 2 MS. time.— F. 240 and avows he is a traitor. 40 HEREFFORD AND NORFOLKE. " I doe pronounce before you all the cluke of Hereford here, a traytour to our Noble Kinge, as time shall show itt clere." Hereford the Duke of Herefford hearing that, in mind was greeved much, & did returne this answer matt, 4 4 which did Duke Norfolke tuche ; hurls back his accusa- tion in his face, " the terme of Tray tor, trothelesse Duke, in scorne & deepe disdaine, With matt deffyance to thy face * 48 I doe returne againe ! and craves leave to fight Norfolk. " & therfore, if it please jour grace to grant me grace," quoth hee, " to combatt with my knowen ffoe 52 that hath accused mee, The King grants it, and fixes Coventry as the place. " I doe not doubt but plainlye proue, that like a pmured knight hee hath most falslye sought my shame 56 against all truth & right." the King did grant their iust request, & did therto agree, att Couentry in August next 60 this combatt fought shold bee. The Dukes appear armed, the Dukes in barbed steeds full stout, in coates of Steele most bright, with speares in brest did enter list, 64 the combatt feirce to flight 1 There is a stroke between the c and e in the MS. — F. HEKEFFOKD AND NORFOLKE. 241 the King then cast his warder downe, com m an ding them to stay ; & with his Lords some councell tooke 68 to stint that Mortall ffraye. att lenght vnto the Noble Duke[s] the King of Heralds came, & vnto them with loftye speech 72 this sentence did proclaime : " with Henery Bullenbrooke this day, the Duke of Hereford here, & Thomas MaAvbray, Norfolkes Duke, 76 soe valyant did apeare, " & haue in honourable sorte repayred to this place, our noble King for specyall cause 80 hath altered thus the case : " ffirst, Henery Duke of Hereford, Ere 15 dayes were past shall part this realme, on payne of death, 84 while 10 yeeres space doth last. " & Thomas, duke of Norfolke, thou that hast begun this striffe, — & therfore noe good proue can bring, 88 I say, — for terme of liffe, " by iudgment of our souerraine Lore? which, now in place doth stand, for euermore I banish thee 92 out off thy Natiue Land, " charging thee on payne of death, when 15 dayes are past, thou neuer treade on English ground 96 soe long as liffe doth last." VOL. II. n but the King stops the combat, and a Herald proclaims his judg- ment. Hereford is banished for ten years ; Norfolk for life ; and both must go in fifteen days 242 Each swears not to go where the other is. HEREFFORD AND NORFOLKE. thus were the sworne before the ~King ere they did further passe, the one shold neuer come in place 100 wheras the other was. then both the dukes with, heaiuy hart were parted presentlye, the vncoth streames of froward chance 104 in forraine lands to trye. [page 267] Norfolk, before sailing off, laments his lot. the duke of Norfolke cominge then where [he] shold shipping take, the bitter teares fell from his cheekes, 108 & thus his moane did make : " May grief burst my heart ! " now let me sob & sigh my fill ere I from hence depart, that inward panges with, speed may burst 112 my sore afflicted hart ! " accursed man, whose lothed liffe is held soe much in scorne, whose companye 1 is cleane despised, 116 & left as one forlorne, I bid adieu to my loved land. " Now take thy leaue & last adew of this thy country deare, w7iich neuer more thou must behold, 120 nor yett approache itt neere ! Would I were dead, that I might be buried here, " how happy shold I count my selfe, if death my hart had torne, that I might haue my bones entombed 124 where I was bredd and borne : 1 In the MS. there is only one stroke for the ». — F. HEREFFORD AND NORFOLKE. 243 128 "or that by Neptunes rathfull rage, I might be prest to dye, while that sweet Englands pleasant bankes did stand before mine eye. or that I might die now ! " how sweete a sent hath Englands ground within my sences now ! how fayre vnto my outward sight 132 seemes euery branch & bo we ! How sweet smells Eng- land's ground I " the ffeeleds, the flowers, the trees & stones, seeme such vnto my minde, that in all other countreys sure, 136 the like I shall not ffinde. There are no such fields abroad. " oh that the sun l his shining face wold stay his steeds by strenght ! that this same day might streched bee 140 to 20 yeeres of lenght ; Oh that this night could last twenty years, " & that they true performed tyde their hasty course wold stay, that iEolus wold neuer yeeld 144 to bring me hence away ! " that by the fountaine of mine eyes the ffeldes might wattered bee, that I might graue my greevous plaints 148 vpon eche springing tree ! and that I could grave my plaints on the trees 1 " but time, I see, w/th Egles wings, I see, doth flee away, & dusty clouds begin to dimm 152 the brightnesse of the day ; But Time flies. 1 MS. or that the shuning. — F. e 2 244 HERKFFOUD AND NOItFOLKE. " the ffatall hower draweth on, the winds & tydes agree ; & now, sweet England, ouer soone 156 I must depart from thee ! the sailors call me. "the Mariners haue hoysed sayle, & call to catch me in, & in [my] woefull hart doe l feele 160 my torments to begin. Farewell, sweet Eng- land, I kiss thy soil to show how I loved thee." 164 "wherfore, farwell for enermore, Sweet England, vnto thee ! & farewell all my freinds w7«'ch I agraine shall neuer see ! " & England, heere I kisse the ground vpon my bended knee, herby to shew to all they world 168 how deere I loued thee." Hereford goes, and dies in Venice. this being 2 sayd, away he went As fortune did him guide ; and att the lenght, with, greefe of hart, 172 in Venis 3 there he dyed. [page 26S] Norfolk lives in France, is promoted, the other duke in dolefull sort did lead his liffe in ffrance, & at the last the mightye Lord 176 did him ffull hiye advance. recalled to England while Richard II. wars in Ireland, the Lords of England afterwards did send for him. againe, while that YLing Richard 4 in the warres 180 in Ireland did remaine ; 1 T.— F. '-' A de follows in the MS., but is crossed out. — F. 3 or Veins, MS.— F. 4 The d has a curl like s to it. — F. HEREFFORD AND NORFOLKE. 245 184 -who thro l the -vale and great abuse which through his deeds did springe, deposed was, & then the duke was truly crowned Kinge. ffins. and is crowned King. 1 MS. tlio. "The vile and great abuse" is dwelt on in the curious in- complete alliterative poem on the Depo- sition of Richard II., edited by Mr. Thomas Wright for the Camden Society in 1838 from the Cambridge MS. LI. 4. 14. Take, among other passages, lines 88-106, pp. 4, 5: Now, Richard the redeles, reweth on 30U self, That lawelesse leddyn joure lyf and 30ure peple bothe ; Ffor thoru the wyles and wronge and wast in }oure tyme, je were lyghtlich y-lyste ffrom that 3011 leef thovi3te, And ffrom 3oure willffull werkis, 3oure will was chaungid, And rafte was 3oure riott, and rest, ffor 30ure daie3 Weren wikkid thoru 30ure cursid eoun- ceill, 3oure karis weren newed, And coveitise hath crasid 30ure croune ffor evere. Of a-legeaunce now lerneth a lesson other tweyne Wherby it standith and stablithe moste, By dride, or be dyntis, or domes untrewe, Or by creaunce of coyne ffor castes of gile ; By pillynge of 30ure peple 30ure prynces to plese, Or that 30ure wylle were wrou3te, thou3 wisdom it nolde, Or be tallage of 30ure townnes without ony werre, By rewthles routus that ryffled evere, Be preysing of polaxis that no pete hadde, Or be dette ffor thi dees, deme as thu ffyndist, Or be ledinge of la we with love well y-temprid. — F. 246 Slates; : ffalL 1 This ballad is given in the Reliqn.es " (with corrections 2 ) from the Editor's ancient folio MS. collated with two printed copies in black letter : one in the British Museum, the other in the Pepys Collection. Its old title is ' A lamentable ballad of the Lady's fall,' to the tune of ' In Peascod Time,' " (to which air "Chevy Chace," as Mr. Chappell informs us, was sometimes sung). There is also a copy of it in the Douce Collection. It appears in the 1727 Collection of Old Ballads, and many later Collections. It is evidently of very much the same date as The Children in the Wood (which is certainly as old as 1595, as its name is entered in the Stationers' Registers of that year), and may possibly be by the same author. The same facility of language and of rhime, the same power of pathos, the same extreme simplicity characterise both ballads. The story is who can say how old ? Who was the first frail woman ? who the first false man ? It touchingly illustrates Goldsmith's pathetic lines : When lovely •woman stoops to folly And finds too late that men betray, "What charm can soothe her melancholy? What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover And wring his bosom, is — to die. The poor weak betrayed lady had looked in vain for the fulfdment of her lover's promises : 1 In y<= printed Collection of Old Ballads, 1727, Vol. i. p. 244. N. xxxiv.— P. 2 Noticed in the 4th edition only. — F. LADYES FALL. 24: If any person she had spied Come riding o'er the plain, She thought it was her own true love ; But all her hopes were vain. She gives birth to a child, And with one sigh which brake her heart This gallant dame did die. Then, at last, repentance is given to her lover, and his bosom is wrung. He kills himself. And so the ballad ends with a word of admonition and warning to " dainty damsels all." MARKE : well my heauy dolefull tale, you loyall louers all, & needfully beare in yoz^r brest 4 a gallant Ladyes fall. long was shee wooed ere shee was woone to lead a wedded liffe, but folly rought her ouertkrowe 8 before shee was a wiffe ; to soone, alas ! she gaue consent, & yeeleded to his will, tho he protested to be true 12 & faithfull to her still. shee felt her body altered quite, her bright hue waxed pale, her faire red cheekes changed color quite, 1 16 her strenght began to fayle. & soe 2 w/th many a sorrowffull sighe, this bewtious Ladye Milde with greeued hart perceiued her selfe 20 to be 3 concerned With chyld. Hear the sad tale of a lady's fall : Long was she wooed, but con- sented too soon. Her shape changed, and she found her- self with cliild. 1 Her lovelye cheeks chang'd color white. — Bel. 1st ed. (only partly collated. -F.) 2 Soe that.— Bel. 3 have. — Bel. 248 LADYES FALL. She hid it from her parents, 24 shee kept it from her parents sight as close as close might bee, & soe put on her silken gowne none shold her swelling see. but told her lover, vnto her loner secretly her greefe shee did bewray, & walking with him, hand in hand, 28 these words to him did say : " behold," quoth, shee, " a Ladyes distresse by lone brought to jour bowe ; see how I goe with chyld with thee, 32 tho none thereof doth knowe ! prayed him not to let her babe be a bastard, " my litle babe springs in my wombe to heare it * fathers voyce ; o lett itt not be a bastard called, 36 sith I make thee my choyce ! 2 to remember his promises, " thinke on thy former promises, thy words & vowes eche one ! remember with what bitter teares 40 to mee thou madest thy Moane ! and marry her or kill her. " convay me to some secrett place, & marry me with speede, or with thy rapyer end my liffe, 44 lest further shame proceede ! ' ; Her lover makes ex- cuses : " alacke, my derest loue ! " quoth, hee, "my greatest Ioy on earthe ! w7iich way shold I conuay you hence 48 to scape 3 a sudden death ? 1 It preceded its as the gen. neuter of ke.—F. its.— Bel. 2 Bel. inserts four lines here.- 3 without. — Bel. LADYES FALL. 249 "ycrar freinds are all of live degree, & I of rueane estate ; ffull hard itt is to gett you. forthe 52 out of jour ffathers gate." [page 269] how can he get her away from her home ? " dread not jour liffe to saue yo»r fame ! for if you taken bee, my selfe will step betweene the sword 56 to take the liarme of tliee ; She pays she will save him from harm, " soe may you l scape dishonor quite. if soe you 2 shold be slaine, what cold they say, but that true loue 60 had wrought a Ladyes paine 3 ? " but feare not any further harme my selfe will soe devise, I will safely e ryd 4 wrth thee vnknowen of Morttall Eyes. and will come to him disguised like some pretty page He meete thee in the darke, & all alone He come to thee 68 hard by my ffathers parke." " & there," quoth, hee, " He meete my deere- if god doe lend me liffe — - on this day month without all fayle ; 72 He make thee then my wiffe." disguised as a page. He agrees to meet her that day month. & with a sweet & louing kisse they parted presentlye, & att their partinge brinish 5 teares '6 stoode in eche others eye. They kiss and part. 1 shall I.— Bel. 2 ? I.— F. and if I.— Bel. 3 bane. — P. and Bel. 4 ryde away.— Bel. 5 ? MS. ; perhaps it is bainish. 250 LADYES FALL. On the day fixed the lady is ready, but her lover never comes. She weeps, reproaches her false lover, and wishes she had never trusted him. Grieving, she goes home, att lenght the wished day was come wherin l this lonely Mayd with longing eyes & strange attire 80 for her true louer 2 stayd. if any person shee had spyed 3 came ryding ore the plaine, shee thought 4 itt was her owne true lone ; but all her hopes was vaine ! 84 88 96 then did shee weepe, & soer bewayle her most vnhappy fate ; then did shee speake these wofnll words when sncconrles shee sate : " ffalse, fforsworne, ffaithelesse man ! disloyall in thy lone ! hast thon fforgott thy promise past, 92 & wilt thon periured prooue ? " & hast thon now fforsaken mee in this my greate distresse, to end my dayes in heauinesse 5 wlu'ch well thou might 6 redresse ? " woe worth 7 the time I did beleeue 8 that mattering toung of thine ! wold god that I had neuer seene 100 the teares of thy false eyen ! " soe that yvith. many a grieuous groane 9 homewards shee went amaine. noe rest came in her waterye eyes, 104 shee found 10 such priuy payne. 1 On which. — Bel. 2 ? MS. loves.— F. 3 When any person she espyed. — Bel. * hoped. — Bel. s open shame. — Bel. " thou mightst well. — Bel. 7 he to ; A.-S. wcorthan, to hecome, he. — F. 8 I e'er believ'd. — Bel. 9 sorrowful sigh. — Bel. 10 Mt.— Bel. LADYES FALL. 251 108 in trauell strong slice fell that night with many a bitter thraw l : — what woefull paines sliee felt that night 2 doth eche good woman knowe ! — i< taken with childbirth pangs, shee called vp her waiting mayds who lay att her bedds feete, 3 and mnsing at her great 4 woe 112 began full fast to weepe. calls np her maids, "weepe nott," shee sayth, " but shutt the dores & windowes all about ; let none bewray my wretched state, 116 but keepe all persons out ! " " Mistrus ! call jour mother here ; of women you haue neede ; & to some skilfull midwiffe helpe 120 the better may you speed." has the doors shut, and bids them keep out every- one. The maids urge her to have a mid- wife. " call not my mother for thy liffe, nor ffeitch noe woman here ! The midwiffes helpe comes all to late ; 124 my death I doe not feare." She refuses. [page 270] with that the babe sprang from her wombe, noe creature being by, 5 & with one sighe w7«'ch brake her hart 128 this gallant dame did dye. gives birth to a babe, and dies. the litle louely infant younge, the pretty smiling babe, 6 resigned itt new receiued berath 132 to him that had it made. Her babe dies too. 1 throwe. — Rel. 2 then did feel.— Rel. 3 A curl at the end like another e.— F. * Who musing at her mistress. — Rel. 5 nye. — Rel. B The mother being dead. — Rel. 252 LADYES FALL. Her lover comes, and kills himself. 136 next morning came her owne true lone affrighted with this newes, & he for sorrow slew himselfe, whom eche one did accuse. Mother and babe are buried together. the Mother with her new borne babe were laide both in one graue ; their parents, ouerworne 1 with, woe, 140 noe Ioy that they 2 cold haae. Damsels! ware flat- tering words! 144 take [heed] you dayntye damsells all ; of mattering words beware ; & to the honor of jour name haue you a specyall care. 3 ffilis. overcome.- -Rel. jcy thenceforth. — Rel. The Reliques add : Too true, alas ! this story is, As many one can tell. By others harmes learne to be wise, And you shall do full well. 25: asurkmpm fcrtrapfc : by Eamsiter* 1 In the late autumn of 1483, the nobles who had previously determined to put an end to the usurpation of Kichard the Third, and who had lately heard of the murder of the young Princes, fixed on Henry of Richmond for their king. About the middle of October the Marquess of Dorset proclaimed him at Exeter. Men declared for him in Wiltshire, in Kent, in Berkshire. The Duke of Buckingham made a rising at Brecon. But the conspiracy failed. Richard was on the alert ; Henry could not land ; the insurgents could not combine. From Brecon the Duke " marched through the forest of Deane to the Severn ; but the bridges were broken down, and the river was so swoln that the fords had become impassable. He turned back to Weobley, the seat of the lord Ferrers ; but the Welshmen who had followed him disbanded ; and the news of their desertion induced the other bodies of insurgents to provide for their own safety. Thus the King triumphed without drawing the sword. Weobley was narrowly watched on the one side by Sir Humphrey Stafford, on the other by the clan of the Vaughans, who for their reward had received a promise of the plunder of Brecon. Morton effected his escape in disguise to the isle of Ely, and thence passed to the coast of Flanders; the Duke, in a similar dress, reached the hut of Banister, one of Jtis servants in Shropshire, where he teas betrayed by tlte perfidy of his host. If he hoped for pardon on the merit of his former services, he had 1 There is another Song on this Subject in the printed Collect wn 1-".'° 173S, Vol. 3* p. 38. N. 5.— P. 254 BUCKINGHAM BETRAYD BY BANISTER. mistaken the character of Eichard. That prince had already reached Salisbury with his army ; he refused to see the prisoner, and ordered his head to be immediately struck off in the market- place." (Lingard). There is another ballad on this same subject given in the Collection of Old Ballads, vol. iii. 1727, entitled "The Life and Death of the Great Duke of Buckingham, who came to an untimely End, for consenting to the deposing of the two gallant young Princes, King Edward the Fourth's children. To the tune of Shore's Wife." In point of style this is of much the same date with that here given from the Folio. It is the pro- duction of a thorough-bred ballad-writer, viz. Robert Johnson, and included in his Crown Garland of Golden Roses. It ad- ministers political justice in the same uncompromising manner : Thus Banister was forc'd to beg And crave for Food with Cap and Leg ; But none on him would Bread bestow, That to his Master prov'd a Foe. Thus wandring in this poor Estate, Repenting his misdeeds too late, Till starved he gave up his Breath, By no man pitied at his Death. To woful End his Children came, Sore punish' d for their Father's shame; Within a channel one was drown'd Where water scarce could hide the ground. Another by the Powers divine Was strangely eaten up of swine ; The last a woful ending makes By strangling in an empty Jakes. A third ballad, entitled " A most sorrowful Song-, setting forth the miserable end of Banister, who betrayed the Duke of Buck- ingham, his Lord and Master," is in the Pepys Collection, vol. i. p. 64, and reprinted in Evans's Old Ballads, vol. iii. p. 23, 8vo, 1810. It begins thus :— BUCKINGAM BETBAYD BY BANISTER. 255 If ever wight had cause to rue A wretched deed, vile and untrue, Then Banister with shame may sing, Who sold his life that loved him. Perhaps all three ballads are founded on some common older original. IOU: Barons bold, ma[r]ke ' and behold the thinge that I will rite 2 ; a story strange & yett most true I purpose to Endite. 3 A strange true tale I tell. ffor the Noble Peere while he lined heere, the dnke of Buckingam, he fflourisht in King Edwards time, the 4"? King of that name. The Duke of Buckingham in his service there he kept a man of meane & low degree, whom he brought vp then of a chyld 12 from basenesse to dignity e ; he gaue him lands & linings good wherto he was noe heyre, & then 4 mached him to a gallant dame 16 as rich as shee was fayre. it came to passe in tract of time his wealth did soe excell, his riches did surpasse them all 20 that in that shire did dwell. has a servant whom he enriches, and marries to a gallant dame, so that the man is very wealthy ; who was soe braue as Banister ? or who durst w/th him contend ? ■which. 5 wold not be desirous still 24 to be his daylye freind ? none dares strive with Banister. 1 mark. — P. 2 write. — P. 3 Only half the n in the MS.— F. * This and 19 other words in different places are marked in red brackets, for omission. — P. s who. — P. 256 BUCKINGAM BETRAYD BY BANISTER. 28 for then ' it came to passe ; more woe, alas ! for 2 sorrowes then began; for why, the Master was constraint:! 3 to seeke snccour of his man. Richard III. murders • the princes ; Buckingham raises a host to avenge them; but his men flee from Richard's army, and he flees to Banister to hide him. then Richard the 3 d . swaying the sword, cryed himselfe a kinge, 4 murthered 2 princes in their bedds, 32 w7iich deede great striffe did bringe. & then the duke of Buckingam, hating this bloody deede, against the tyrant raysed an Oaste 36 of armed men indeed. & when ~King Richard of this hard tell, a mightye Ost he sent against the duke of Buckingam, 40 his purpose to prevent. & when the dukes people of this heard tell, ffeare ffilled their hearts eche one ; many of his souldiers fledd by night, 44 and left him one by one. in extreme need the Duke tooke a steede, 5 & posted night and day towards Banister his man, 48 in secrett there to stay. " Banister, Sweet Banister ! pitty thow my cause," sayes hee, " & hyde me from mine 6 Enemyes 52 that here accuseth 7 niee." [page 271] 1 Now it.— P. 2 such. — P. 3 The M r . was constrained to seek. -P. 4 Himself proclaimed king. — P. 5 Part of the line pared off the MS. — F. 6 One stroke too few in the MS.— F. 7 persueth (in red ink : by Percy in his late hand.— F.) BUCKIiNGAM BETKAY1) BY BAM.STER. " 0, you be welcome, my LorrZ ! " hee sayes, " jour grace is welcome here ! & as my liffe He keepe yoti safe, 56 although it cost me deere ! " " be true, sweete Banister ! " sayes hee, O sweete Banister, be true ! " " christs curse," he sayd, " on me & mine 60 if euer I proue ffalse to you ! then the Duke cast of his veluett sute, his chaine of gold likwise, & soe he did his veluett capp, 64 to blind the peoples eyes ; •a lethern Ierkyn l on his backe, & lethern slopps 2 alsoe, a heidging bill vpon his backe, 68 & soe into the woods did goe ! an old felt hat vppon his head, w/'th 20 holes therin ; & soe in labor he spent the time, 72 as tho some drudge he had beene. & there he liued long vnknowen, & still vnknowne might bee, till Banister for hope of gaine 76 betrayd him Iudaslye. 2o7 Banister vows to keop him safe, "Christ's curse on me it I be false ! " Buckingham takes oft his velvet clothes, dresses as a woodman, and works away in safet3 T . 80 for a proclamation there was made, ' whosoeuer then cold bringe newes of the Duke of Buckingam to Richard then our Kinge, But Richard 1 Languedoc jhergaon, an over-coat ; grave ; in Wedgwood. — F. Fr. Jargcot, Jargot, a kind of course 2 slopps, A kind of open breeches, garment worne by countrey people. Cot- trowsers. Johnson. — P. VOL. ir. s 258 BUCKINGAM BETKAYD BY BANISTER. offers 1000 marks and knight- hood, for news of Bucking- ham. Banister betrays his master. 84 ' a 1000 markes shalbe his flee of gold & silver bright, & then be preferred by his grace, & made a worthy knight.' & when Banister of that heard tell, straight to the court sent hee, & soe betrayd his Master good 88 for lncre of that See. Buckingham is seized. 92 a herald of amies there was sent, & men with weapons good, who did attach this noble Duke where he was labouring in the wood. He re- proaches Banister, " Ah, ffalse Banister ! a, wreched man ! Ah, Caitiffe ! " then sayes hee ; " haue I maintained thy poore estate 96 to deale thus Iudaslye ? " alas that euer I beleeued that mattering tounge of thine ! woe worth the time that euer I see 100 that false Bodye of thine ! " but is be- headed at Salisbury. then ffraught with feare & many a teare, with sorrowes almost dead, this noble Duke of Buckingam 104 att Salsbury l lost his head. Banister is cast into prison, then Banister went to the court, hoping this gold to haue, but straight in prison hee was cast, 108 & hard his liffe to 2 saue. 1 query Shrewsbury. — P. 2 hard his life could. — P. BUCKINGAM BETRAYD BY BANISTER. 259 112 small ffreinds lie found in his distresse, nor any comfort in his need, but euery man reuiled him [for] this 1 his trecherous deede. reviled by all, & then, according to Ids wishe, gods Iudgments did on him fall ; his children were consumed quite, 1 1 6 his goods were wasted all ; [page 272] ffor one of his sones for greeffe Starke madd did fall ; 2 the other ffor sorrow drowned was w/thin a shallow runing streame 120 where euery man might passe. and Christ's curse falls on him : one son turns mad, the other is drowned. his daugter right of bewtye bright, to such lewde liffe did ffall that shee dyed in great miserye ; 124 & thus they were wasted all. His daugh- ter becomes a strumpet. Old Banister liued long in shame, & att the lenght did dye ; & thus they Lord did plague them all 128 ffor this his trecherye. now god blesse our king & councell graue, 3 in goodness still to proceed ; & send euery 4 distressed man 132 a better ffreind att need ! ffillS. He lives in shame and dies. God send all in need a better friend I 1 for this. Qu.— P. 2 stark mad did fall.— P. This line is made two in the MS. Starke begins p. 272.— P. 3 Our k? G> Lord David 18. i' th' chaire >y in the cheare 19. Although it j> And tho itt 20. 23. And though And I Altho I 25. 25. queene shee slaine queene was slaine 29. wroth i> wrothe 36. 44. betraye All underneath betray Underneath his 45. we » wee 51. hee ?j he 52. favour ?j favor while in lines 31-32 the manuscript " for death of the queenes Chamberlaine, the King himselfe he shall dye," which Percy altered in his first edition to That for the death of the chamberlaine, How hee, the king himselfe sholde dye, he changed back in the fourth to, For the death of the queenes chamber- laine, The king himselfe, how he shall die." I write he changed back, for Mr. David Laing says that a friend of Percy's and his assured him that Percy himself edited the fourth edition of the Reliques, and that with great care, though he let his nephew, in the Advertisement to that edition, take the responsibility of it off his own episcopal shoulders, supposed to be burdened with "more important" matters. It is, indeed, evident that the many changes made in the text of the fourth edition must have been carefully considered by Percy r , for they are changes of lines sometimes as well as of words. -F] 265 See Introduction to King James &. Brown, vol. i. p. 135. This piece is printed in the Reliques. " The original copy," says Percy, " (preserved in the archives of the Antiquarian Society, London) is entitled, ' A new Ballad, declaring the great treason conspired against the young King of Scots, and how one Andrew Browne, an Englishman, which was the King's Charnber- laine, prevented the same. To the tune of Milfield, or els to Green-sleeves.' At the end is subjoined the name of the author ' W. Elderton.' * Imprinted at London for Yarathe James, dwelling in Newgate Market, over against Ch. Church,' in black- letter folio." It is the work of the professional ballad-writer who could " rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and suppers and sleeping- hours excepted " ; and it is well-executed work of its sort. The image is fairly well shaped ; but there is scarcely a spark of Heaven's fire in it — no breath of life breathed into its nostrils. It was written, no doubt, rather to give information than entertainment. At a time when there were no newspapers cir- culating through the country, the ballad was an ordinary vehicle of news. "Marry, they say that the running stationers of London, I mean such as use to sing ballads, and those that cry malignant pamphlets, &c." (Knaves are honest men, or More Knaves yet, apud Collier's Book of Eoxburghe Ballads.) 1 N.B. This Copy is very imperfect. liques, vol. ii. p. 204, first edition, is the See Page 58 & 59 [of MS.], Stanza the " King of Scots and. Andrew Browne." last in that Page [vol. i. p. 141, 1. 108-9 The version there printed contains 15 of print], where the subject of this ballad stanzas, while the present one lias only is alluded to. — P. The title in the Be- 10, and two of these aro incomplete. — F. VOL. ir. T 266 BISHOPPE AND BROWNE. How sad that subjects can't be true ! 1ESUS god ! what l greeffe is this that Princes subiects cannot be true ! but still the devill & 2 some of his 4 doth play his part, as plaine is in shew. 3 in Scotland in Scottland dwelles a bony king, as proper a youth as any can bee ; hee is giuen to euery bappy 4 thing 8 that can be in a Prince to see. 5 King James's nurse heard that he was to be poisoned. She called for help. 12 on whitsontyde, as itt befell, a possett was made to giue the King ; & that his Ladye Nurse heard tell that itt was made a poysoned thing, shee cryed, & called pittiauslye, "helpe ! or else the King must dye ! '' Browne sprang forward, leapt out of a window, & Browne being 6 an Englishman, 1 6 he did heare 7 that Ladyes pityous crye ; but with his sword he besturred him then ; forth att the dore he thought to fflee, but euery dore was made full fast ; 20 forth of a window hee lope at last. 8 met the Bishop with the he mett the Bishopp att the dore, & with the possett in his hand, the sight of Browne made the Bishopp agast ; 1 Out alas ! what a. — Bel. 2 hath.— Bel. 3 Will play their parts, whatsoever ensue : Forgetting what a grievous thing It is to offend the anointed kinge? Alas for woe, why should it be so, This makes a sorrowful heigh ho. — Eel. The collation after this is not com- plete.— F. 4 The y is made over an h in the MS- -F. 5 Bel. adds : — Yet that unluckie countrie still Hath people given to craftie will, Alas for woe, &c. 6 One Browne that was. — Bel. 7 And hard. — Bel. 8 MS. at last lope hee.— F. Out of a window he got at last. — Bel. BISIIOPPE AND BROWNE. 267 24 he bade him soe boldleye stay & stand, w^'th him were 2 that ran awaye for feare lest browne shold make a fray. " Bishopp," said Browne, " what hast thou there ?" 28 "nothing at all, my ffreinde, 1 " Qitoth hee, "but a possett to make the King good cheere." "is itt soe ? " sayd Browne, " that will I see ; before thou goe any further inn, 32 of this possett thou shalt begin." poisoned posset, " Browne," said the Bishopp, " I know thee well ; thou art a yong man both pore & bare ; & liuings 2 of 3 thee I shall bestowe ; 36 goe thou thy way, & take noe care." "noe ! " said Browne, " that shall not bee ! He not be a traitor for all christentye ! for be itt for wayle, 4 or for woe be itt, 40 drinke thou off this sorrowfull possett." the Bishopp dranke ; then by & by his belly burst, & he ffell downe : a iust reward for his traitorye. 44 " marry, this was a possett indeed ! " sayd Browne, he searched the Bishopp, & found they Kayes to goe to the King when he did please. & when the Kinge heard tell of this, «.S he meekelye fell downe on his knee, & thanked god that he did misse then of this false trecherye ; & then he did perceiue & know 52 that his clergye wold haue him betraid [so. 5 ] rejected his bribes to be quiet, and made the Bishop drink the posset. The Bishop burst and died. King James thanked God, 1 The last e is made over an s in the MS.— F. 2 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 3 on. — Eel. 1 i.e. sorrow: tmless it be corruptly written for weal, welfare, good : written by the Scots weil, wele. — P. 3 Eel. inserts another stanza here, and adds fonr after the next. — F. t 2 268 BISHOPPE AND BROWNE. rewarded the nurse, and knighted Browne. he called the nursse befor his grace, & gaue vnto her 20^ e pounds [a yeere.] dough tye Browne, [i'] the like case, 56 he dubbd him Knight with gallant cheere, bestowed vpon him liuings great [For dooing such a manly feat. 1 ] ffins. 1 Last line cut away in the MS. ; supplied here from the Eel., which adds : As he did showe, to the bishop's woe, Which made &c. and then four more stanzas about a fresh attempt to make away with the King. — F. 269 CI) litre OTatersu 1 t***w Tins ballad was printed in the Reliques from the Folio, with a few " corrections." These amount to the insertion of six new lines, and numerous minor changes. The copy is indeed some- what mutilated, and needed a little patching to make it present- able to the general reader. " Several traditional versions," says Professor Child in his English and Scotch Ballads, " have since been printed, of which we give Burd Ellen from Jamieson's, and in the Appendix Lady Margaret from Kinloch's Collection. Jamieson also furnishes a fragment, and Buchan 2 (Ballads of the North of Scotland, ii. 30) a complete copy of another version of Burd Ellen ; and Chambers (Scottish Ballads, 193) makes up an edition from all the copies, which we mention here because he has taken some lines from a manuscript supplied by Mr. Kinloch." The love and fidelity of a woman are here tried to the utmost limit. Worse sufferings than are even mentioned in the Nut- brown Maid, and in that feeble reflection of it, A Jigge, are here verily endured. Certainly " Burd Ellen " is the better, more expressive title for the ballad. She is the one centre of interest in it — the one living glory and delight. Child Waters appears but to introduce her — to " bring her out " — to furnish her with an opportunity for displaying her splendid trust and adherence. He must be regarded so, or he is intolerable. This part he performs excellently. He brings Ellen's faithfulness into glorious 1 A Tryal of female Affection not 2 This Buchan (whom I once en- unlike the Nut-brown Maid. Shewing deavoured to assist in his poverty by how child Waters made his M? undergo procuring purchasers for his books) was many Hardships, & afterw«rds married a most daring forger : scarcely anything her. It was not necessary to correct that he has published can be trusted to as this much for the Press. — P. genuine. — A. Dyce. 270 CHILDE WATERS. relief. Let this and kindred ballads, then, be accepted as atone- ments for the light doubting talk men sometimes hold about women. Be it true or wrong These men among On -women do complain e Affermyng this How that it is A labour spent in vaine To love them wele For never a dele They lore a man agayne. For lete a man Do what he can Ther favour to attayne Yet yf a newe To them pursue Ther furst trew lover than Laboureth for noixght And from her thought He is a bannisshed man. I say not nay But that all day It is both writ & sayde That woman's fayth Is as who sayth ' All utterly decayed. This and kindred ballads show how, in spite of many sad scandals, in spite of suspicions and sneers, th'e heart of men still nursed and cherished a precious fond belief in the truth of women. Much frivolity there might be, 1 much hypocrisy, much falseness ; but ever here and there was one to be found — one who, through good report and through evil, through all extreme distresses and neglects and cruelties, would never with- draw her trust from him to whom once she had given it — would never falsify the vows she had once uttered — would never fail from her true-love's side — una de multis face nuptiali 1 See the ballad in the metre of the beginning, Notbrowne Mayd in Mr. Skeat's Preface masteres anne, to Partenay, p. ii, (E. E. T. Soc. 1866) I am your man. — F. CHILDE WATERS. 271 digna. Such an one is Ellen in this ballad. She illustrates how " many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it." She cares nothing for gold and fee ; had rather have one kiss of her love's mouth or one twinkling of his eye than " Cheshire and Lancashire both " ; will lay aside her woman's dress, sacrifice her long yellow locks, endure strange hardships — running barefoot through the broom and struggling through the water — invoke generous blessings on the head of her supposed rival, obey the most trying orders, that she may accompany and please the master of her heart. Her love never hesitates. When, after much ill usage, she gives birth to a child in the stable whither she has gone in the early morning to feed the Child's horse, she lets no murmur against the author of her miseries escape her. She said, " Lullaby, my own dear child, Lullaby, dear child dear ! I would thy father were a king, Thy mother laid on a bier." In the end her trust wins its reward. " Peace now," he said, " good fair Ellen, And be of good cheer, I thee pray ; And the bridal and the churching both They shall be upon one day." (jHILDE : watters in his stable stoode, & stroaket his milke white steede : to him came a ffaire young Ladye 4 as ere did weare l womans wee[de 2 ;] To Childc Waters comes fail- Ellen, saies, " christ you saue, good Chyld waters ! sayes, " christ you saue and see ! my girdle of gold w/a'ch was too longe 8 is now to short ffor mee ; says, ware. ever ware.- -Ed. '-' weed. — P. 272 CHILDE WATERS. " I am with child by you." 12 " & all is with, one 1 dry Id of yours, I ffeele sturre att my side, my gowne of greene, it is to strayght ; before it was to wide." ' If so, " if the child be mine, 2 faire Ellen," he sayd, " be mine, as you tell mee, take 3 you Cheshire & Lancashire both, take Cheshire and Lancashire, 1 G take them jour owne to bee and make tbe child your heir."' "if the child be mine, ffaire Ellen," he said, " be mine, as you doe sweare, take you Cheshire & Lancashire both, 20 & make that child jouv heyre." " I'd rather have a kiss shee saies, " I had rather haue one kisse, child waters, of thy mouth, then I wold haue Cheshire & lancashire both, 24 that lyes 4 by north & south. and a look from you, than your counties." " & I had rather haue a twinkling, Child waters, of jour eye, 5 then I wold haue Cheshire & Lancashire both, 28 to take them mine oune to bee ! " He says he must take the fairest lady north with him. Ellen asks to be his footpage. 32 " to-morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde soe ffarr into 6 the North countrye the ffairest Lady that I can ffind, Ellen, must goe with mee." 7 " & euer I pray you, Child watters, yo?tr ffootpage let me bee ! " 1 a.— P. 2 Only one stroke for the m. — F. be mine. — P. 3 Then take.— Bel. 1 lye.— P. 5 thine ee. — Eel. 6 far into. — P. 7 The Reliques inserts : Though I am not that ladye fayre, Yet let me go with thee. — F. Tho' I am not that fayre Lady, Yet let me go with thee. — P. CniLDE WATERS. 273 " if you will my ffootpage be, Ellen, 36 as you doe tell itt mee, then you must cutt your gownne of greene an inche aboue yowr knee ; " soe must you doe yowr yellow lockes, 40 another inch 1 aboue your eye ; you must tell noe man what is my name ; my ffootpage then you shall bee." all this 2 long day Child waters rode, 4 i shee ran bare fFoote 3 by his side ; yett was he neuer soe curteous a K.niyht, to say, " Ellen, will you ryde ? " but all this day Child waters rode, 48 shee ran 4 barffoote thorow the broome ! yett he was 5 neuer soe curteous a Knight as to say, " put on jotir shoone." "ride softlye," shee said, 6 " Child watters ; 52 why doe you ryde soe ffast ? the child, which is no mans but yours, 7 my bodye itt will burst. 8 " he sayes, 9 " sees thou yonder l0 water, Ellen, 50 that fflowes from banke to brim ? " "I trust to god, Child waters," shee said, 11 "you will neuer l2 see mee swime." but when shee came to the waters side, 60 shee sayled to the Chinne : "except the l3 hord of heauen be my speed, now must I 14 learne to swime." Ho agrees, if she'll cut her gown and hair. She runs barefoot by his side all day thro' the broom. Ride softly, she says. He makes her 1 an inch. — P. 2 Shee all the. — Eel. and omits ' shee ' in the next line. — F. 3 Shee all the long day (that) Ch. Wat. rode, ran barefoot. — P. 4 She all the, long day'Ch. W. rode, Kan.— P. 5 was he.— P. 6 0.— P. 7 thine.— P. s brast.— P. 9 Hee sayth — Eel. 10 yond.— P. 11 I trust in God Child Waters. -Eel. 12 you'll never. — P. not. — P. 13 but the.— P. Now the.— Eel. and P. 1 ' For I must. — Eel. 274 CHILDE WATERS. swim thro' the water. the salt waters bare vp Ellens ' clothes ; 64 our Ladye bare vpp he[r] chinne ; & Child waters was a woe man, 2 good Lore?, 3 to ssee faire Ellen swime. He shows her & when shee ouer the water was, 68 Shee then came to his knee : he said, " come hither, ffaire Ellen, loe yonder what I see ! [page 275] a hall. The fairest girl there is his bride, his para- mour. Ellen wishes him and his bride God speed. 72 76 80 " seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen ? of redd gold shine the yates 4 ; theres 24 nay re ladyes, 5 the ffairest is my wordlye make. " Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen ? of redd gold shineth the tower ; there is 7 24 ffaire Ladyes, 8 the fairest is my paramoure." " I doe see the hall now, Child waters, that of redd gold shineth the yates. 9 god giue 10 good then of jour selfe, & of jour wordlye make 1 1 ! 84 " I doe see the hall now, Child waters, that of redd gold shineth the tower. god giue 12 good then of jour selfe and of jour paramoure ! " 1 her.— Eel. 2 i. e. a woeful man. — P. 3 Ch. W. was a woe man good Lord. 4 shines [the] gate. — P. 5 Of twenty foure fayre ladyes there. — Bel. of.— P. 6 mate : so the rhyme seems to require, but Make signifies also a Mate, match, or equal, a familiar companion, from A.-S. maca, geinaca, par, socius, conjux. Vid. Jun. Gloss. Sax. Voc. — P. Eel. omits ' wordlye.' — F. 7 There are .... there. — P. 8 Eel. adds ' there.'— F. 9 yate.— P. 10 [insert] you. — P. 11 worthy mate. — P. 12 [insert] you. — P. CHILDE WATERS. 275 there were 24 Ladyes, 1 88 were 2 playing at the ball ; & Ellen was 3 the ffairest Ladye, 4 must bring his steed to the stall. She stables his steed, there were 24 faire Ladyes 5 02 was 6 playing att the Chesse ; & Ellen shee was 7 the ffairest Ladye, 8 mnst bring his horsse to grasse. & then bespake Child waters sister, 96 & 9 these were the words said shee ; " you haue the prettyest ffootpage, brother, that euer I saw 10 with mine eye, and takes it to grass. His sister asks that his footpage 100 104 " but that his belly it is soe bigg, his girdle goes ll wonderous hye ; & euer I pray you, Child waters, let him goe into the Chamber with mee. 12 " £7™ 108 13 " it is more meete for a litle ffootpage that has run through mosse and mire, to take his supper vpon his knee & sitt downe 14 by the kitchin fyer, then to goe into the chamber wi'th any Ladye that weares soe [rich] attyre. 15 " with her. Childe Waters says the page had better sup by the kitchen fire. 1 ' were playing ' follows and is crossed out. — F. There were 24 faire Ladies there. — P. There twenty four ladyes were. — Bel. 2 A.— Bel. A.— P. 3 that was, Qu. — P. •' the fayrest ladye there. — Bel. 5 P. has written there at the end. — F. Bel. omits ' were.' 6 a.— P. 7 that was, Qu.— P. 8 the fayrest ladye there. — Bel. 9 Bel. omits &.— F. 10 I did see. — P. I did see. — Eel. 11 is.— P. 12 in my chamber lie. — P. 13 Percy turns the last two lines into another stanza, and prefixes it to the first four : — It is not fit for a little foot page That has run through mosse and myre, To lye in the chamber of any lady That weares soe riche attyre. 11 And lye.— Bel. 15 rich attyre, Qu. — P. 276 CHILDE WATERS. He sends Ellen to hire a prostitute for him and carry her up to him. but when the had supped euery one, to bedd they tooke they l way ; he sayd, " come hither, my litle footpage, 1 12 hearken what I doe say ! " & goe thy downe into 2 yonder towne, & low into the street ; the ffarest Ladye that thou can find, 116 hyer her in mine armes to sleepe, & take her vp in thine armes 2 3 for filinge 4 of her ffeete." Ellen hires the woman and carries her up, Ellen is gone into the towne, 120 & low into the streete : the fairest Ladye that shee cold find, shee hyred in his armes to sleepe, & tooke her in her armes 2 124 for filing of her ffeete. and asks to lie at his bed-foot. At daybreak Childe Waters orders Ellen to feed his steed. " I pray you now, good Child waters, that I may creepe in att your bedds feete ; 5 for there is noe place about this house 128 where I may say 6 a sleepe." 7 this, & itt droue now affterward 8 till itt was neere the day : he sayd, " rise vp, my litle ffoote page, & giue my steed corne & hay ; & soe doe thou 9 the good blacke oates, that he may carry me the 10 better away." 132 1 their. — P. they = the.— F. 2 thee into. — P. thee downe into. — Bel. 3 twaine. — Bel. 4 i. e. for fear of defiling. — P. 5 Let me lie at your feet. — P. Let me lye at your feete. — Bel. 6 Vide Liffe & Death. Pag. 384, lin. 36 ; pag. 390, lin. 453 [of MS.]— P. say = essay, try. — F. 7 In the Beliques a stanza is made of the next two lines : — lie gave her leave, and faire Ellen Down at his beds feet laye : This done the nighte drove on a pace, And when it was neare the daye. — F. 9 This done, the night drove on apace. 9 And give him nowe. — Bel. 10 To carry mee. — Bel. CHILDE WATERS. 277 And vp then rose l ffaire Ellen, [page 276] 136 & gaue 2 his steed corne & hay, & soe shee did on 3 the good blacke oates, that he might carry him the better 4 away. shee layned 5 her backe to the Manger side, 140 & greiuonslye did groane ; 6 & that beheard his mother deere, and 7 heard her make her moane. She does it, but groans, for her pains come on. Childe Waters's mother shee said, " rise vp, tlion Child waters ! 144 I thinke thou art a 8 cursed man ; for yonder is a ghost in thy 9 stable that greiuouslye doth groane, or else some woman laboures of 10 child, 148 shee is soe woe begone ! " but vp then rose Child waters, 1 1 & did on his shirt of silke ; then he put on his 12 other clothes 152 on his body as white as milke. & when he came to the stable dore, full still that hee did 13 stand, that hee might heare now faire Ellen, 156 how shee made her monand 14 : tells him to get up, there's a ghost in his stable, or a woman in labour. He dresses, goes to the stable, and hears Ellen shee said, " lullaby e, my 15 owne deere child ! lullabye, deere child, deere ! I wold thy father were a king, 160 thy mother layd on a beere ! sing to her child : would that his father were a king, she dead ! 1 [insert] the. — P. 2 to give. — P. 3 Bel. omits on. — P. 4 to carry him th' bet. — P. 5 leaned. — P. 6 The Bcliques inserts and alters thus : She leaned her back to the manger side And there shee made her moane, And that beheard his mother deare, Shee heard her ' woeful woe ; ' Shee sayd, Eise up, thou Childe Waters, And into thy stable goe. — F. 7 she.— P. 8 thee a. — P. 9 the.— P. 10 with.— Bel. " 'soon' is written at the end by P. — F. J 12 and so he did his. — P. 13 there did he. — P. 11 monand, is moaning, i. c. moan. Lye. 15 mine. — Bel. 278 CHILDE WATERS. Childe Waters promises to marry her. 1G4 "peace now," he said, " good faire Ellen ! & be of good cheere, I thee pray ; & the Bridall, & the churching both, they l shall bee vpon one day." 2 ffins. 1 Eel. omits they. — F. 2 In the admiration bestowed on fair Ellen, Enid, and patient Grisild, it is doubtful whether disgust and indignation at their friends' conduct have been suf- ficiently expressed or felt. Anything more deliberately brutal, I find it hard to conceive. "Cursed man" is surely an epithet well deserved here. — F. Perhaps the most poetical and finest version of this poem is to be found in Burger's melodious German ballad, en- titled Graf Walter, which he professes to have made nach clem Alt-en glischen, and which follows Percy's edition pretty closely. He has made it into a very pleasing poem, having paraphrased it after his own fashion with great artistic skill. Burger concludes thus : " Sammt deinem Vater schreibe Gott Dich in sein Segensbuch ! Werd' ihm und dir ein Purpurkleid, Und mir ein Leichentuch ! " " O nun, nun, suss, susse Maid, Suss, susse Maid, halt ein ! Mein Busen ist ja nicht von Eis, Und nicht von Marmelstein. " nun, nun, siiss, susse Maid, Siiss, susse Maid, halt ein ! Es soil ja Tauf und Hochzeit nun In einer Stunde sein." He has also translated " King John and the Abbot of Canterbury" as Der Kaiser und der Abt, and "The Child of Elle" as Die Entfuhrung. — Skeat. 279 £es5$te:off Betmall: 1 There are copies of this ballad in the Roxburghe and the Bagford collections, and in the Collection of Old Ballads. It is printed in the Reliques chiefly from the Folio MS. " compared with two ancient printed copies." It appears in numberless recent collec- tions, as Professor Child's, Mr. Bell's Ballads of the Peasantry, Mr. Dixon's Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of England. The Folio copy, differing slightly from the current ones, is here printed faithfully for the first time ; for the editor of the Reliques seems to have thought that to him too, as to painters and poets, Quidlibet audendi semper fuit sequa potestas, and freely used his license in the case of this ballad. He was offended by the " absurdities and inconsistencies " of the old ver- sion, " which so remarkably prevailed " in that part of the song where the Beggar discovers himself. These were, we suppose, that a Montfort should be spoken of as serving in the wars, When first our King his fame did advance And fought for his title in delicate France, and then that the blinded soldier, when at last he got back to his country, should resign himself to a beggar's life instead of at once declaring himself and appealing to the royal bounty, if he was possessed of no estate to support him. There seemed no hope of curing such grievous deformities as these ; so the whole limb was lopped off, and a new one substituted, manufactured by Robert Dodsley, author of The Economy of Human Life. Eight new stanzas were substituted. " By the alteration of a 1 In the printed collection of Old Ballads, 1 726. Vol. 2, p. 202, N. 35.— P. 280 BESSIE OFF BEDNALL. few lines," says Percy, " the story is rendered much more affecting, and is reconciled to probability and true history." Let those who think it profitable or possible to bring about such a reconcilia- tion be thankful. The copy as now at last reproduced gives one stanza (vv. 228-32) not found in the ordinary versions. The ballad was certainly not written later than Queen Eliza- beth's reign ; for, as Percy points out, Mary Ambree was sung to the tune of it. One reason for which Percy attributes it to that reign seems odd — because the " Queen's Arms " are mentioned in v. 23 ! It was an extremely popular ballad, and no wonder. " This very house," writes Pepys in his Diary, June 25, 1663, of Sir W. Eider's place at Bethnal Green, " was built by the blind Beggar of Bednall Green, so much talked of and sang in ballads ; but they say it was only some outhouses of it." (apud Mr. Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, where the tune is given.) The story is pretty, and is told unaffectedly. Each part has its own surprise : the one revealing the wealth, the other the high birth of the Beggar. These denouements are not supremely noble ; but they are such as please the crowd. Such sudden reverses are always delightful. But what a bathos it would seem if, in the ballad of King Cophetua, the Beggar-maid should turn out to be a disguised Princess, or the village maiden, whom the Lord of Burleigh in Mr. Tennyson's poem leads home, a Lady of title ! The present ballad is not satisfied to represent Bessie as " pleasant and bright," " of favours most fair," " courteous." It crowns her with vulgarer honours — showers riches on her, and proves her of high lineage. Kegium certe genus et penates Moeret iniquos. Crede non illam tibi de scelesta Plebe dileetam. BESSIE OFF BEUNALL. 281 ITT was a blind beggar that long lost his sight, he had a faire daughter both pleasant & bright, & many a gallant braue sntor had shee, 4 for none was soe comelye as pretty Bessye. And tho shee was of ffavor most faire, yett seeing shee was but a beggars heyre, of ancyent houskeepers despised was shee, 8 whose sonnes came as sutors to prettye Bessye. Wherefore in great sorrow faire Bessy did say, " good ffather & mother, let me goe away to seeke out my fortune, where euer itt be." 12 this sute then they granted to pretty Bessye. Then Bessye that was of bewtye soe bright, they cladd in gray russett, & late in the night with teares shee lamented her destinye ; 16 soe sadd & soe heauy was pretty Bessye. Shee went till shee came to Stratford the bow, then knew shee not whither nor w7w'ch way to goe ; ffrom ffather & mother alone pon may see, For ytt wylk eLr be newe Fekyllr or fals yf f>at sche be, (Wete >ou wele w/Uowtyn fable,) 0r ell y« ^ Bche be trewe Alle the whyle thy wyfe ys stable 1. 0«J-bO.- t. 304 BOY AND MANTLE. would hold him imprisoned forever ; the Cave in Amadls of Gaul, from which the disloyal were driven by torrents of flame ; and the Well in Horn and Rimnild, (ibid.) which was to show the shadow of Horn, if he proved false. In conclusion, we will barely allude to the singular anecdote related by Herodotus, (ii. Ill,) of Phero, the son of Sesostris, in which the experience of King Marc and King Arthur is so curiously anticipated. In the early ages, as Dunlop has re- marked, some experiment for ascertaining the fidelity of women, in defect of evidence, seems really to have been resorted to. "By the Levitical law," (Numbers v. 11-31,) continues that accurate writer, " there was prescribed a mode of trial, which consisted in the suspected person drinking water in the taber- nacle. The mythological fable of the trial by the Stygian foun- tain, which disgraced the guilty by the waters rising so as to cover the laurel wreath of the unchaste female who dared the examination, probably had its origin in some of the early institu- tions of Greece or Egypt. Hence the notion was adopted in the Greek romances, the heroines of which were invariabty subjected to a magical test of this nature, which is one of the few particulars in which any similarity of incident can be traced between the Greek novels and the romances of chivalry." See Dunlop, History of Fiction, London, 1814, i. 239, sq. ; Legrand, Fab- liaux, 3d ed., i. 149, sq., 161 ; Schmidt, Jahrbacher der Litera- tur, xxix. 121 ; Wolf, Ueber die Lais, 174-177 ; and, above all, Geaesse's Sagenhreise des Mittelalters, 185, sq. The Boy and the Mantle was [said to be] " printed verbatim " from the Percy MS., in the Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, iii. 38. A boy comes 13$ the third day of May, to Carleile did come a kind curteous child 4 that cold much of wisdome. BOY AND MANTLE. 305 12 a kirtle & a Mantle this Child had vppon, with brauches 1 and ringes, full richelye hedone. he had a sute of silke about his middle drawne ; w/thout he cold 2 of curtesye, he thought itt much shame. o richly dressed and jewelled. " god speed thee, 'King Arthur, sitting att thy meate ! & the goodlye Queene Gueneuer! 16 I canott her fforgett. He greets Arthur and Guenevere, " I tell you Lords in this hall, I hett you all heate, 3 except you be the more surer 20 is you for to dread." he plucked out of his potewer, 4 & longer wold not dwell, he pulled forth a pretty mantle 24 betweene 2 nut-shells. [page 285] and pulls out of his bag a mantle " haue thou here King Arthure, haue thou heere of mee ; giue itt to thy comely cpieene 28 shapen as itt is alreadye ; which he tells Arthur to give to Guenevere. 32 " itt shall neuer become that wiffe that hath once done amisse." then euery Knight in the 'Kings court began to care for his wiffe. 5 1 Brooches. — P. ? MS. branches. — F. 2 knew. — F. 3 heed, qu. — P. heede. — Eel. hete, a promise. — F. * See pag. 382, ver. 98 [poteuere in Sir Degree.'] — P. poterver. — Ed. Tho first syllable must be portc, carry. — F. 5 began to care for his. — P. ? care in MS.— F 306 BOY AND MANTLE. Guenevere takes it. It tears in two, and changes colour. Arthur thinks she is not true. forth came dame Gueneuer ; to the mantle shee her biled ' : the Ladye shee was new fangle, 2 36 but yett shee was affrayd. when shee had taken the Mantle, shee stoode as she had beene madd it was from the top to the toe 40 as sheeres had itt shread. 3 one while was itt gaule, 4 another while was itt greene, another while was itt wadded, — 44 ill itt did her beseeme, — another while was it blacke & bore the worst hue. "by my troth," quoth JZmg Arthur, 48 " I thinke thou be not true." Guenevere rushes oil blushing, curses the mantle- maker and the child, and says she'd rather be in a wood than shamed. shee threw downe the mantle that bright was of blee. 5 fast with a rudd 6 redd 52 to her chamber can shee flee ; shee curst the weauer & the walker 7 that clothe that had wrought, & bade a vengeance on his crowne 56 that hither hath itt brought ; " I had rather be in a wood vnder a greene tree, then in ~King Arthurs court 60 shamed for to bee." 1 Query the le in the MS.— F. hied. —Bel. 2 new fangle is fond of a new thing, catching at novelties, ab. A.-S. fangan, apprehendere, capere, corripere, hinc fang, Gloss, ad G. D. — P. 3 i. e. divided. — P. 4 gule, qu. — P. red. — F. 5 colour, complexion, blcoh — idem, Saxon. — P. 6 Complexion. — P. 7 Fuller, Jun. — P. A.-S. wealccre. — F. BOY AND MANTLE. 307 Kay called forth his ladye, & bade her come neere ; saies, " madam, & thou be guilty e, 64 I pray thee hold thee there. 1 ' forth came his Ladye shortlye & anon : boldly e to the Mantle 68 then is shee gone. Kay calls fort: wife. marr when she had tane the Mantle & cast it her about, then was shee bare 72 all aboue the Buttocckes. 1 but it her buttocks bare. then euery Knight that was in the Kings court talked, laug'h'ed, k. showted, 76 full oft att that sport. shee threw downe the mantle that bright was of blee : ffast with a red rudd 80 to her chamber can shee flee. - i red face. forth came an old Knight pattering 2 ore a creede, & he preferred to this litle boy 84 2< I markes to his meede, & all the time of the Christmasse willignglye to ffeede ; for why this Mantle might 88 doe his wiffe some need. An old knight offers the boy a reward to try it on his wife. 1 Before all the rout. — Bel. 2 patter, obscuro murmure humilibus que susurris hypocritarum instar, coram populo preculas fundere — Junius. They say in Shropshire to pat her, i.e. to make a no:- when one rubs the feet agamst the ground, & scratches. — P. 308 She takes it. and has only a tassel and thread on her. 92 BOY AND MANTLE. When shee had tane the mantle of cloth that was made, shee had no more left on her bnt a tassell & a threed. then euery ~K.ni.glit in the "Kings conrt bade " enill might shee speed." [page 28C] She rushes off shamed. shee threw downe the Mantle 96 that bright was of blee, & fast with a redd rndd to her chamber can shee flee. Craddock tells his wife to try Craddocke called forth his Ladye, 100 & bade her come in ; saith, "winne this mantle, Ladye, with a litle dinne : and win the mantle. " winne this mantle, Ladye, 104 & it shalbe thine if thon nener did amisse since thon wast mine." She comes, forth came Craddockes Ladye 108 shortly e & anon, but boldlye to the Mantle then is shee gone. puts it on ; it begins to crinkle up. when shee had tane the mantle 112 & cast itt her about, vpp att her great toe itt began to crinkle ' & crowt ; shee said "bowe downe, Mantle, 116 & shame me not for nought ; to crinkle, to go in & out, to run in —P. Grout, a variant of crowd, to draw flexures; from krinekelen _Z?e^r. Johnson. close together.— F. BOY AND MANTLE. " once I did amisse, I tell you certainlye, wken I kist Craddockes moutk 120 Ynder a greene tree, wken I kist Craddockes moutli before lie marryed niee." when skee had ker skreeuen, 1 124 & ker sines skee kad tolde, tke mantle stoode about ker rigkt as skee wold, seemelye of coulour, 128 glittering like gold. tken euery Kwight in Artkurs court did ker bekold. tken spake dame Grueneuer 132 to Artkur our King, " ske katk tane yonder mantle, not with wrigkt 2 but with, wronge ! " see you not yonder woman 136 that maketk ker selfe soe cleare 3 ? I kaue seene tane out of ker bedd of men fiueteeene, " Preists, Clarkes, & wedded men 140 from ker by-deene ! yett skee taketk tke mantle & maketk ker-selfe cleane ! " tken spake tke litle boy 144 that kept tke mantle in kold ; sayes "King ! Ckasten tky wiffe ! of ker words skee is to bold. 309 She confesses that she kissed ■ Craddock before he married her. The mantle unerinkles. clothes her, and glitters like gold. Guenevere maligns Craddock's wife, Bays she has seen fifteen men taken out of her bed. The Boy- tells Arthur to restrain his wife, 'i.e. confessed : shrive, fateri, confi- teri. Hinc shrovetide. Jim. — P. 2 right.— P. 8 cleane. — P. 310 BOY AND MANTLE. ■who is a whore, and has cuckolded him. " shee is a bitch & a witch, 14 8 & a whore bold ! King, in thine owne hall thou art a Cuchold! " The Boy sees a boar ; A litle boy 1 stoode 152 looking oner a dore ; he was ware of a wyld bore 2 wold haue werryed a man. runsout.cuta ofE its head. he pulld forth a wood kniffe ; 156 fast thither that he ran ; he brought in the bores head, & quitted him like a man. brings it in, and says no cuckold can cut it. he brought in the bores head, 160 and was wonderous bold : He said, " there was neuer a Cucholds [page 287] kniffe carue itt that cold." Some knights throw their knives away ; some rubbed their k[n]iues 164 vppon a whetstone ; some threw them vnder the table, & said they had none. others try, but can't cut it. ~King Arthus & the Child 168 stood looking them vpon 3 : all their k[n]iues edges turned backe againe. Craddock cuts up the head. Craddoccke had a litle kniue 172 of Iron & of Steele ; he birtled 4 the bores head 1 The little boy.— P. 2 And there as he was looking He was ware of a wyld Bore. Qu.-P. 3 upon them, Qu. — P. 4 birtled, or britled. — P. A.-S. bryt- tian, to divide into fragments, distribute. — F. BOY AND MANTLE. 311 wonderous weele, that euery Knight in the Kings court 176 had a morssell. ISO the litle boy had a home of red gold that ronge ; he said, " there was noe Cuckolde shall drinke of my home, but he shold itt sheede Either behind orbeforne." The Boy says no cuckold can drink out of his horn without spilling. some shedd on their shoulder, 184 & some l on their knee ; he that cold not hitt his mouth put it in his eye ; & he that was a Cuckold, 188 euery man might him see. Many try, 192 Craddoccke wan the home & the bores head ; his ladye wan the mantle vnto her meede. Euerye such a louely Ladye, God send her well to speede ! ffins. but Craddock alone can do it. God bless ladies like Craddock's wife! 1 sone in the MS.— F. ["" When as I doe reccord," printed in Lo. and Hum. Songs O"? j). 68-9, follows here in the MS.~] 312 lintt vo$t $c vttix 1 [Page 288 of MS.] This is but a pedestrian composition, being nothing more than a passage of a dull and not very accurate history of England turned into yet duller and as inaccurate verse. It was written, or perhaps was revised and added to, alter 1619, as the Queen of James I., Anne of Denmark, is spoken of as dead and gone (v. 198), and she died in that year. The principal hero is Henry VII., who is pronounced a paragon of virtue, and inter alia a most faithful and affectionate husband. De mortuis nil nisi bonum, has been the poetaster's motto ; or rather De Tudore mortuo nil nisi optimum. The piece may have had its use in aiding and abetting the memories of the common people. Books were not yet so cheap and plentiful but that artificial memory- helps were welcome. The ballad form was in extreme requisition and popularity for all manners of subjects in the first half of the seventeenth century. Everything was be-balladed. in the wars VV HEN yorke & Lancaster made warre of the Roses . . „ T , within this fiamous Land, the lines of all onr Noble men 4 did in great danger stand. many 7 Kmnrs in bloodye ffeilde kings were left heirless, ff or Englands crowne did flight, & yett their heyres were, all but twaine, 8 of liffe bereaued qnifce. 1 In the printed Collection of Old Written or recast in James I.'s time: Ballads, 1726, Vol. 2. p. 206, N. xv.— P. see lines 78, 149.— P. 12 WHITE ROSE AND RED. ther 30000 Englishmen were in one battell slaine ; yett all that English blood cold not one setled peace obtaine. 313 and 30,000 lives secured no peace. father[s] killed their owne deare sonnc, the sonnes the ffathers slew, & kinsmen Sought against their King, 16 & none eche other knew. att Lenght, by Heneryes Lawfull claime, 1 these wasting warres had end, for Englands peace he did restore, 20 & did the same defend. But Henry VII. ffor tyrant Richard named the 3 d ., the breeder of this woe, by him was slaine nere Leister towne, 24 as chronicles doe shoe. slew Richard III. all ffeare of warr was then Exiled, ■which Ioyed eche Englishman ; & dayes of long desired peace 28 within this Land began. and brought peace to the land. he ruled this kingdome by true loue, to gaine his subiects Hues ; then men liued quietly att home .32 with their children & their wiues. King Henery tooke such princely care our ffurther peace to frame, tooke ffaire Elizabeth to wiffe, 2 36 that gallant yorkshire dame. Henry married 1 One stroke of the m is wanting in the MS. — F. 2 See Ladye Bessiyc in vol. iii. — F. VOL. II. Y 314 WHITE HOSE AND RED. York's heiress ; 40 4 Edwarcles daughter, blest of god, to scape king Edwards * spight, was thus made Englands peereles Queene, & Heneryes liartes delight. this Henery, ffirst of Tuders name & last of Lancaster, with. Yorkes right heyre a true loues knott 44 did knitt & make ffast there. the White Eose bedded with the Bed; renowned yorke, the white rose gaue ; brane Lancaster the redd ; by wedlocke both inoyned were 48 to lye in one princely bed. and they are a badge in the Royal Arms. May they flourish still ! these roses grew, & buded fayre, & with soe good a grace, that Kings' of Engl[a]nd in their armes 2 52 affords a worthy place. & fflonrish may these roses still, that all they woi-ld may tell ! the owners of these princely mowers 56 in vertue to Exell ! To glorifye these roses more, king henerye & his Queene did place their pictures in red gold, 60 most gorgeous to be seene. [page 280] The King's Guard wear the Kings owne guard doe weare them now vpon their backe & brest, where loue & loyaltye remaines, 64 & euermore may rest. 1 That is, Richard's. — Adams. 2 The Red and White Roses never were, strictly speaking, in the Royal Arms, but were and are a badge borne with them. — Gr. E. Adams, Bouge Dragon. WHITE ROSE AND RED 315 68 72 76 80 84 88 92 96 the red rose on the backe is placed, theron a crowne of gold ; the wh[i]te rose on the brest as rich, and castlye J to behold, bedecket with siluer studdes, & coates of scarlett & redd, a blushing hew, which. Englands fame this many yeeres hath spredd. this Tudor & Planta save the < r i se V p & saue Cow crumbockes liffe ! cow s life. ± 7 cioakon 1 !"° ld 8 man ! P ut tlune old cloake about thee ! ' " steady, 4 " Bell my wiffe ! why dost thou fflyte 5 ? wife. My t i cloak's very thou kens my cloake is verry thin ; Then [Bell]. — P. seems necessary to support the dialogue. 2 who. — P. p. 3 to me right hastily.— P. s A _.g_ ^a«, to strive, quarrel.— F. 4 This stanza not in print :— and yet BELL MY WIFFE. 323 itt is soe sore ouer worne, 12 a cricke l theron cannott runn : He goe ffind the court within, He noe longer lend nor borrow ; He goe ffind tho court 2 within, 16 for Tie haue a new cloake about me.' I shall get a new one." " Cow Crumbocke is a very good cowe, shee has alwayes beene good to the pale, shee has helpt vs to butter & cheese, I trow, 20 & other things shee will not fayle ; for I wold be loth to see her pine ; therfore, good husband, ffollow my councell now, forsake the court & follow the ploughe ; 24 man ! take thine old coate about thee ! " " The cow's a good cow, don't let he die ; put your old coat on." 3 " My cloake itt was a verry good cloake, it hath beene alwayes good to the weare, itt hath cost mee many a groat, 28 I have had itt this 44 yeere ; sometime itt was of the cloth in graine, 4 itt is now but a sigh 5 clout, as you may see ; It will neither hold out winde nor raine ; 32 & He haue a new kloake 6 about mee." "I've had my cloak forty- four years, and mean to get a new one." " It is 44 yeeres agoe since the one of vs the other did ken, & wee haue had betwixt vs both, 36 children either nine or ten ; " Yes, we've been together forty-four years, 1 Cricke, most probably an old word for a louse. Jamieson. Compare the description of Avarice in Langlande's Vision of Piers Ploughman, Passus V. 1. 107-113, p. 58, Vernon Text, ed. Skeat: f enne com Couetyse . . . In A toren Tabert of twelue Wynter Age. But 3if a lous coube lepe, I con hit not I-leue Heo scholde wandre on bat walk, hit was so bred-bare. — F. 2 Only half the u in the MS.— F. 3 This Stanza is very different from that in print. — P. 4 Fr. Cramoisi : m. crimson colour. Sot en cramoisi. An Asse in graine. Cotgrave. — F. 5 ? sorry, miserable. — F. 6 ? a c made over the first k in the MS.— F. 324 BELL MY WIFFE. and brought ten children up. Don't be proud ; put your old cloak on." " Old times are old ; all people dress tine now, and I'll have a new cloak too." " King Harry thought his breeches too dear at 5s. Don't be proud ; put your old cloak on." " Well, it's no good for a man to dispute with his wife. I will put my old cloak on." wee haue brought them vp to women & men in the feare of god I trow they bee ; & why wilt thou thy selfe niisken ? 40 man ! take thine old cloake about thee ! " " O Bell my wiffe ! why doest thou flyte ? now is nowe, & then was then ; seeke all the world now throughout, 44 thou kens not Clownes from gentlemen ; they are cladd in blacke, greene, yellow, & blew, 1 soe ffarr aboue their owne degree ; once in my liffe lie take a vew, 2 48 ffor He haue a new cloake about mee." " King Harry was a verry good K[mg ;] I trow his hose cost but a Crowne ; he thought them 12* ouer to deere, 52 therfore he called the taylor Clowne. he was King & wore the Crowne, & thouse but of a low degree ; itts pride that putts this cumtrye downe ; 56 man ! put thye old Cloake about thee ! 3 " Bell my wiffe ! why dost thou fflyte ? now is now, & then was then ; wee will Hue now obedyent Hffe, 60 thou the woman, & I the man. itts not ffor a man with a woman to threape 4 vnlesse he ffirst giue ouer the play ; wee will liue noue 5 as wee began, 64 and Be haue mine old Cloake abaut me." ffins. 1 Some letter marked out following the b in the MS.— F. 2 ? MS. tew, a rope (or line) : Nares. I'll give myself some rope, license. — F. 3 Different from the print : as indeed is almost every Line of the whole. — P. 1 A.-S. \>rtapian, to threap, reprove, afflict. Bosworth. — F. 5 ? MS. ' none ' for 'on'.— F. Better ' now' ; compare 1. 58, 59. — H. 325 i lute fcolKre : £ loue : The affected, strained style of this piece tells pretty clearly to what period it belongs. "True conceit be still my feeding," says the lover; so evidently says this author too. His is the ars ostentandl artem. W ITH my hart my lone was nesled ' into the sonne of happynesse ; 2 ffrom my lone my liffe "was rested 3 into a world of heaninesse ; lett my lone my liffe remaine, 4 since I lone not where I wold. 5 [page 292] I was happy with my love, and then was torn from her. 12 Darksome distance doth devyde vs, ffarr ffrom thee I mnst remaine ; dismall planetts still doth 6 guide vs, ffearing wee shold meete againe ; but ffroward ffortune once remoned, 7 then will I hue where I wold. 8 We are apart now, but Fortune may change, and join us. 16 Iff I send them, doe not suspect mee ; but if I come, then am I seene ; let thy wisdome 9 soe direct mee that I may blind Argus eyen ! for my true hart shall nener remou[e,] tho I hue not where I loue. Do not suspect me, though I am away from you. 1 Read nested, to rhyme with rested. -Skeat. -' In a summe of happinesse. — P. 3 wrested. — F. 1 let me soon from life remove. — P. 5 Since I live not where I love. — P. Since I live not where I would faine. — H. c clo. — P. 7 remove. — P. 8 love. — P. 9 MS. wisdone. — F. 326 I LIUE WHERE I LOUE. What grief have I suffered ! Sweete ! what greeffe haue I sustained 20 in the accomplishing my desires ! l my affections are not ffained, tho my wish be nere the nere. 2 if wishes wold snbstantiall prone, 24 then wold I Hue where I loue. With bleeding heart, I pray to be with thee again. 28 True conceit be still my feeding, & the flood being soe 3 conceipted, whilest my hart for thee lyes bleeding, sunne & heauens to be intreated ; perhaps my orisons then may moue, that I may Hue where I loue. When heaven grants this, we'll smile at past troubles. Loue & ffaction still agreeing, 32 by the consent of heauens electyon, where wee both may haue our being, vnderneath the heauens protectyon, & smiling att our sorrowes past, 36 wee shall enioye 4 our wishe att Last. ffins. 1 To accomplish my desire. — P. 2 nigher. — P. 3 After this is written contented, with the tente only marked out, then follows ceipted. — F. 4 may enjoy. — P. 327 Ummjje : 8n&rcto : * This touching ballad is unhappily somewhat imperfect in parts ; and we have not met with any copy elsewhere, with which it might be collated. The story would be too painful and disgusting to read, but for the extreme gentleness of the poor sadly abused lady. This, while it aggravates our loathing of the monster whose prey she became, and makes her wrongs the more hideous, yet renders the tale tolerable. That gleam of light reconciles our eyes to the Stygian darkness. Otherwise it would be too horrible. We could not endure even to read of such a fiend as he who appears in it. This atrocious ruffian is apparently a Scotchman (so his name seems to imply, and vv. 69, 92), who concludes a moonlight meeting with a fond, weak, credulous woman by deliberately robbing her, not only of her father's gold which she had fetched at his request, but of every article of dress she had on, in spite of her piteous pleadings, and this with brutal declarations that the spoil is intended for his own lady who dwells in a far country, till at last remains to her only such covering as nature gave — her long flowing hair. Then he gives the poor wretched creature the choice of dying there and then on his sword's point, or going home as she was. She goes home, to be greeted by her father's curse, and die of a broken heart at his door. The story is too frightful to be told as a reality ; it is told as a dream. 1 Shewing his disloyalty to an Earl's daughter. This Song in some Places is imperfect. — P. 328 YODNGE ANDREW. I dreamt of young Andrew. A lady tells him she's loved him long. He kisses her. She reminds him of his promise to marry her. He says he'll do it if she brings him her father's gold. 12 16 20 AS : I was cast in my ffirst sleepc, a dreadffull draught * in my mind I drew ; ffor I was dreamed of one 2 yong man, some men called him yonge Andrew. the moone shone bright, & itt cast a ffayre light ; sayes shee, " welcome, my honey, my hart, & my sweete ! for I hane loued thee this 7 long yeere, & our chance itt was wee cold neuer meete." then he tooke her in his armes 2, & k[i]ssed her both cheeke & chin ; & 2 s ? or B s . e he pleased this may 3 before they tow did part in twinn ; saies, " now, good Sir, you haue had jour will, you can demand no more of mee ; Good Sir, Remember what you said before, 4 & goe to the church & marry mee." " ffaire maid, I cannott doe as I wold ; [Till I am got to my own country 5 ] goe home & fett 6 thy fathers redd gold, & He goe to the church & marry thee." She gets her father's 500/. and jewels, and takes them to young Andrew. this Ladye is gone to her ffathers hall, & well she knew where his red gold Lay, 7 and counted fforth 5 hundred pound 24 besides all other Iuells & chaines, & brought itt all to younge Andrew ; itt was well counted vpon his knee, then he tooke her by the Lillye white hand, 28 & led her vp to one 8 hill soe hye ; 1 sketch, picture. — F. 2 a.— P. 3 maid. — P. 4 you swore. — P. 5 Percy's line. — F. 6 fet. Vid. fol. 514. Note.- 7 she.— P. 8 a.— P. YOUNGE ANDREW. 321) 32 shec had vpon ' a gowne of blacke vcluett ; — a pittyffu]l sight after yee shall see ; — "put of thy clothes, bonny wenche," he sayes, " for noe ffoote farther thoust gang with mee." Ho makes her take off but then shee put of her gowne of veluett 2 3 with many a salt teare from her eye, And in a kirtle of fnne 4 treaden silke [page 293] 36 shee stood beffore young Andrews eye. sais, " o put off 5 thy kirtle of silke ; ffor some & all shall goe with mee : & to my owne Lady I must itt beare, 40 who 6 I must needs loue better then thee." then shee put of her kirtle of silke with 7 many a salt teare still ffrom her eye ; in a peticoate of Scarlett redd 44 shee stood before young Andrewes eye. saics, " o put of 5 thy peticoate ; for some & all of itt shall goe with mee ; & to my owne Lady I will itt beare, 48 w7»'ch dwells soe ffarr in a strange countrye." but then shee put of her peticoate with many a salt teare still from her eye ; & in a smocke of braue white silke 52 shee stood before young Andrews eye. saies, " o put of 5 thy smocke of silke ; for some & all shall goe with mee ; vnto my owne Ladye I will it beare, 56 that dwells soe ffarr in a strange countrye." her velvet gowu, her silken kirtle, her scarlet petticoat, her white silk smock ' vp brackotted for omission by P. 2 velvet gown. — P. 3 while many . . . ran. — P. 4 a fine kirtle. — P. ? breadon, braided. — F. 5 Put off, put off.— P. 6 whom. — P. 7 while .... ran froni.- -P. VOL. II. 330 YOUNGE ANDREW. (though she prays to keep it), CO sayes, 1 " o remember, young Andrew ! once of a woman you were borne ; & ffor that birth that Marye bore, I pray you let my smocke be vpon ! " and her head dross. Then he asks her whether she'll die on his sword or go naked home. She chooses walking naked home, but warns young Andrew that her father will hang him if he catches him, and her brothers will take his life. " yes, ffayre Ladye, I know itt well ; once, of a woman I was borne ; yett ffor noe birtb that Mary bore, 64 thy smocke shall not be left here vpon." but then shee put of her head geere ffine ; shee hadd billaments 2 worth a 100" ; the hayre that was vpon this bony wench head, 3 68 couered her bodye downe to the ground. then he pulled forth a Scottish brand, & held itt there in his owne right hand ; 4 saies, "whether wilt thou dye vpon my swords point, Ladye, 72 or thow wilt 5 goe naked home againe ? " " my liffe is sweet, then Sc'r," said shee, " therfore I pray you leaue mee with mine ; before I wold dye on jour swords point, 76 I had rather goe naked home againe. " my ffather," shee sayes, " is a right good Erie as any remaines in his countrye ; if euer he doe jour body take, 80 your sure to mower a gallow tree ; " & I haue 7 brethren," shee sayes, 6 " & they are all hardy men & bold ; giff euer the doe jour body take, 84 you must neuer gang quicke ouer the mold." 1 she sayes. — P. 2 habillinients, dress, cloaths. — P. 3 but . . . upon her head. — P. 4 And there he held it forth amaine. —P. 5 wilt thou.— P. 6 And seven brethren I have she says. —P. YOUNGE ANDREW. 331 88 " if your ffatlier be a right good Erie as any remaines in his owne countrye, tush ! he shall neuer my body take, He gang soe ffast ouer l the sea ! Young Andrew says he'll sail from her father, " if you haue 7 brethren," he sayes, " if they be neuer soe hardy or bold \ tush ! they shall neuer my body take ; 92 lie gang soe ffast into the Scottish mold ! " and take refuge in Scotland from her brothers. Now this Ladye is gone to her fathers hall when euery body their rest did take ; but the Erie w7*ich was her ffather [dear] 2 96 lay waken for his deere daughters sake. The lady goes home, " but who is that,'''' her ffather can say, 3 " that soe priuilye knowes that pinn 4 ? " " its Hellen, jouy owne deere daughter, ffather 5 ! loo I pray you rise and lett me in." her father hears her, 6 "noe, by my hood 7 ! " qwoth her ffather then, " my [house] thoust 8 neuer come within, without I had my red gold againe." but won't let her in till she brings back his gold. 104 " nay, jour gold is gone, ffather ! " said shee. 9 she says it's " then naked thou came into this world, and naked thou shalt returne againe." "nay ! god fforgaue his death, father ! " shee sayes, 108 "& soe I hope you will doe mee." " away, away, thou cursed woman ! He curses " I pray god an ill death thou may dye! " [page 294] 1 hence o're. — P. - dear.— P. * to say. — P. 4 pinn. Compare vol. i. p. 249, 1. 38, ' lie thirled vpon a pinn.' — P. 5 here. — P. 6 no, no, I will not rise. — P. 7 Kood.— P. 8 my House thou. — P. 9 pardon, pardon me, she says, For all your red gold it is taen. — P. z 2 332 YOUNGE ANDREW. Her heart bursts, and she falls dead. shee stood soe long quacking on the ground 112 till 2 her hart itt burst 2 in three, & then shee ffell dead downe in a swoond ; & this was the end of this bonny Ladye. In the morning her father sees her corpse. 116 ithe morning when her ffather gott 3 vpp, a pittyffull sight there he might see 4 ; hisowne deere daughter was dead 5 without Clothes! they teares they trickeled fast ffrom his eye ; He curses his love of gold, sais, " fye of gold, and ffye of ffee ! 7 120 for I sett soe much by my red gold that now itt hath lost both my daughter and mee ! " and fades as a flower in frost. but after 8 this time he neere dought 9 good day, but as 10 flowers doth fade in the ffrost, 124 soe he did wast & weare away. As to young Andrew, but let vs leaue talking of this Ladye, & talke some more of young Andrew, 11 ffor ffalse he was to this bonny Ladye ; 128 more pitty that itt had l2 not beene true. ho hadn't gone half a mile into Wales he was not gone a mile into the wild forrest, 13 or halfe a mile into the hart of wales, but there they cought him by such a braue wyle 132 that hee must come to tell noe more tales. 1 until. 2 truly -P. -P. rose. — P. 4 might he see.- 5 -P. there lay dead. — P. 6 any follows in the MS., and is crossed out. — F. 7 fye fye now on my gold O fye on gold & fye on fee. — P. 8 Thus having lost his daughter fair, He after &c— P. 9 dought — A.-S. dugan, valere, hinc dohtiff Sax. i. e. doughty, fortis, strenus, Gloss, ad G. Doug' —P. 10 [insert] the.— P. 11 And once more tell of young An- drew. — P. 12 he had.— P. 13 He scarse was from this Lady gone, or As he did from this Lady go And thro' the forest past his way A furious wolf did him beset And there this perjured knight did slay. — P. And tow'rd the woods had gang'd away. — P. YOUNGE ANDREW. 666 ffull soone a wolfe did of him smell, & sliee came roaring like a beare, & gaping like a ffeend of hell ; before a wolf attacked him, 136 soe they ffought together like 2 Lyons [there], 1 & fire betweene them 2 glashet out ; the raught eche other such a great rappe, tliah there young Andrew was slaine, well I wott. killed him, 140 but 2 now young Andrew he is dead ; but he was neuer buryed vnder mold ; for ther as the wolfe devoured him, there 3 lyes all this great erles gold. ffins. and eat him up. 1 Percy has added there, and marked the line as part of the verse above. — F. 2 And.— P. 3 And there &c— P. Percy has marked in red ink brackets, for omission, the following words or parts of them : as, 1. 142. n, of neuer, 1. 141. father, 1. 107. but, 1. 97. deere, 1. 96. in o/into, 1. 92. with, 1. 74. point, Ladye, 1. 71. this bony wench, 1. 67. vp of vpon, 1. 64, 60, 29. In line 8 he marks cold neuer to be transposed to neuer cold. In other poems I have not noticed these red ink marks. They would have swelled the notes too much, and there are plenty of Percy's alterations already. 334 " A jig," says Nares, " meant anciently not only a merry dance, but merriment and humour in writing, and particularly a ballad. Thus when Polonius objects to the Player's speech, Hamlet sarcastically observes, He's for ajiffff or a tale of bawdry or he sleeps. — (Haml. ii. 2.) He does not mean a dance (which then players did not under- take), but ludicrous dialogue or a ballad. ... In the Harleian collection of old ballads are many under the title of jigs ; as ' A Northern Jige, called Daintie, come thou to me,' ' A merry new Jigge or the pleasant Wooing between Kit and Pegge,' &c. So in the Fatal Contract by Hemmings, We'll hear jonv jigg : How is your ballad titled? — (Act iv. sc. 4.) Thus : A small matter ! you'll find it worth Meg of Westminster, although it be but a bare jig.— (Hog hath lost, &c. 0. PI. vi. 385.) It appears that this jig was a ballad." The following specimen of the Jig Dialogical is a sort of vulgar reproduction of the Nut-Brown Maid. The mode and circumstances of life depicted in the original ballad had passed out of date ; the old order had given place to a new. A new audience — new chronologically, new socially — demanded a new version — a "people's edition," so to speak. The lover who here tests his mistress is no knight, but a common soldier; the mistress is no highborn lady, but a common woman. And these personal changes are characteristic of the others which the old ballad has undergone, to take its present shape. No such transmutations 1 Pepys, iv. 42. A Poetical Dialogue between a Soldier & his Mistress, not un- like the Nut-brown Maid. — P. A JIGGE. 335 are likely to be, from a literary point of view, successful. This one is not. But the beauty of the original is too great to be altogether destroyed, however rude the hands that handle it. Something of the charm of the Nut-Brown Maid lingers around this Jig. Other handlers of the old ballad turned it to a religious sense. See the New Notbrowne Mayd upon the Passion of Christ in Mr. Hazlitt's Early Popular Poetry of England. 12 " MaRGRETT, ray sweetest margett ! I must goe ! most dere to mee that neuer l may be soe ; as ffortune willes, I cannott itt deny." "then know thy loue, thy Margarett, shee must dye." " Not ffor the gold that euer Crcessus liadd, wold I once 2 see thy sweetest lookes soe fade ; nor 3 ffor all that my eyes did euer 4 see, wold I once part thy sweetest loue from mee ; " The King comands, & I must to the warres." "thers 5 others more enow to end those cares." " but I am one appointed ffor to goe, & I dare not ffor my liffe once say noe," " O marry mee, & you may stay att home ! ffull 30 weekes you know that I am gone. 6 " " theres time enough ; another ffather take ; 1G heele loue thee well, & not thy child forsake." " And haue I doted ouer thy sweetest fface ? & dost infring the things I haue in chase, thy ffaith, I meane ? but I will wend with thee." 20 " itt is to ffar ffor Pegg to goe wi'th mee." Margaret, I must leave you. " Then I'll die." Not for the world would I make you sad, but I must to the wars. " Marry mc and stay at home I " Get another father for your child. "No, I love you and will go with you. 1 i.e. never hereafter. — H. 2 There is a mark like an i undotted before the o. — F. 3 nor yet. — P. 1 Only half the u or e in the MS.— F. 5 There's.— P. i.e. with Child.— P. 6 336 A JIGGE. I'll carry your sword, " I will goe with, thee, my loue, both night and day, & I will beare thy sword like lakyney ; Lead the way ! " ' " but wee must ryde, & will you ffollow then 24 amongst a troope of vs thats 2 armed men ? " clean your horse, "He beare thy Lance, & grinde thy stirropp too, He rub thy horsse, & more then that lie doo." " but Margretts ffingars, they be all to nine 28 to stand & waite when shee shall see mee dine," wait on you, " He see you dine, & wayte still att yo?(r backe, lie giue you wine or any thing you Lacke." " but youle repine when you shall see mee haue 32 a dainty wench that is both nine & braue." love your wench, " He love thy wench, my sweetest loue, I vow, [page 29. r .j He watch the time when shee may pleasure you ! " " but you will greeue to see vs lye in bedd ; 36 & you must watch still in anothers steede." see you sleep with her. " He watch my loue to see you take jour rest ; & when you sleepe, then shall I thinke me blest." " the time will come, deliuered you must bee ; 40 then in the campe you will discredditt mee." " He goe ffrom thee beffor that time shalbee ; when all his well, my loue againe He see." " all will not serue, ffor Margarett may not goe ; and leave you before my own baby comes." You mustn't go with me. 44 then doe resolue, my loue, what else to doe. " Then I'll die, loving you still.'' No, I'll stop with you, " Must I not goe ? why then, sweete loue, adew ! needs must I dye, but yet in dying trew! " " a ! stay 3 my loue ! I loue my Margarett well, 48 & heere I wow 4 With Margarett still to dwell ! " 1 along the way. — P. 2 all.— P. 3 Ah! stay.— P. 4 vow. P. A JIGGE. 337 " Giue me thy hand ! thy Margarett Hues againe ! " " heeres * my hand ! He neuer breed I kisse my loue in token that is soe ; " heeres * my hand ! lie neuer breed thee paine ! an ? never J r pain you. "We'll be ffins. 52 wee will be wedd : come, Margarett, let vs goe." 1 here is. — P. 338 Cglamore : l |In Six Parts.— P.] Tms romance has been printed among the Thornton Romances for the Camden Society from a MS. in the Public Library of Cambridge (Ff. ii. 38), the copies of it and Degrevant made by Thornton " unfortunately being imperfect." There is another copy among the MSS. Cotton (Calig. A. 11). The Percy Folio copy is here printed for the first time : " A single leaf of another early copy," as Mr. Halliwell, the editor of the Thornton Ro- mances, informs us, " is preserved in a MS. belonging to Lord Francis Egerton. It was printed at Edinburgh in 1508 by Walter Chapman, and subsequently at London by Copland and Walley. Shakespeare may possibly have had this hero in his mind when he calls one of his characters by his name in the Two Gentlemen of Verona : ' What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamore?' The name, however, appears to have passed into a kind of proverb. So in Dekker's Satiromastix : e Adieu, Sir Eglamore ! adieu, lute-string, curtain-rod, goose-quill ! ' The name of Torrent of Portugal is partly founded upon the story related in Sir Eglamore. The names are changed, but the re- semblance is too striking to have been the result of chance. The treachery of the sovereign, the prowess of the knight, the indis- cretions and misfortunes of the lady, and the happy conclusions 1 The readings marked T. are from Camden Society in 1844. Very few of the Thornton MS., ' Sir Eglamour of the very many differences between the Artois' (MS. Syr Egyllamowre of Artas) two texts are given,-^F. as edited by Mr. Halliwell for the EGLAMORE. 339 of her misfortunes — these form the leading incidents of each romance. Torrent of Portugal is preserved in an unique manu- script of the fifteenth century, in the Chetham Library at Manchester : Here bygynneth a good tale Of Torrente of Portingale : and although somewhat disfigured by the errors of the scribe, contains much that is curious and valuable. As this poetical tale has recently been published, there is no necessity for proving in this place a similarity that will be at once detected by the reader ; but there is perhaps a secret history attached to the source of these romances that remains to be unravelled." Ellis makes the abstract he gives of Eglamore from the copy printed by Walley. All at all important differences between the Thornton copy and ours are recorded by Mr. Furnivall in the notes. The romance is certainly of more than usual merit — less prolix and garrulous, or rather of more interesting garrulity. Many of its " positions " are indeed of the kind commonest in romantic literature, as the passage of the squire's love for his lord's daughter, the combat with the giant, the unconsummated marriage of a son and his mother. No one of them perhaps can be pronounced novel. The stories of a woman's exposure to the mercy of the winds and seas, and of the carrying off of her son by a great bird, are well known elsewhere — in Chaucer's Man of Lead's Tale, and among the legends of the house of Stanley — and are undoubtedly of extreme antiquity. But there are other charms besides novelty of incident. These can make old things new, can endow with spirit and vigour the form that is worn and wasted. The minstrel who wrote, or rather trans- lated, this piece, if a minstrel he was, as verses 1227-9 might suggest, told an old tale freshly, — a tale of love much crossed and thwarted, but prosperous in the end — of treachery, potent 340 EGLAMORE. and prevailing for a while, but at last shown futile and fatal — of strange partings and yet stranger meetings. Full true it is, by god in heaven, That men meet at unset steven. Thrice old themes these ; but in the hands of this romance-writer made juvenescent. Such an union between mother and son as that which occurs in Eglamore is a very favourite arrangement with the old romance-writers. It immediately precedes and generally brings about the avayvcofjicns. Thus the extremest alarm and horror immediately introduce the extremest delight. Fear and joy are brought into the closest juxtaposition. The romance-writer could conceive of no more terrible disturbance and overthrow of the order of nature than that fearful conversion of a mother into a wife, a son into a husband — that ruin of the most beautiful of the domestic relations. Though bold enough to describe it as possible, and, indeed, imminent, he never dares to let it actually come to pass. He never lets the ghastly shade become a living thing. The Greek poets too regarded this same connection as the culminating horror. In their eyes, too, conflicts between father and son, love other than pious between son and mother, appeared the most frightful of all possible fright-fulnesses. But they went further than the old romance-writers. They were not content with the apprehension ; they did not shrink from the act. What in the romances is only threatened, is in the Greek legend perpetrated. Hideous possibilities become there yet more hideous realities. Eve in the one case only fingers the apple ; in the other she plucks and eats it. Medieval feeling was the more delicate and sensitive in this respect. Its poet ever averts the horrible catastrophe. As the storm is on the point of bursting, and the nymphs with wild frantic faces stand ready to " shriek on the mountain," suddenly the sky clears, there are pious embracings, the domestic sanctities are preserved and ratified. EGLAMORE. 341 [Part L] [How Eglamore lovod Christabell, and undertook throe Deeds of Arms to win her.] 1 1ESUS : christ, heanen king! grant vs all his cleere blessinge, & builde vs [in] l his bower 2 ! 4 & giue them [ioye] 3 that will heare of Elders that before vs were, that liued in great honor. 4 I will tell yon of a Knight 8 that was both 5 hardye & wight, & stiife in enerye stower; & wher any deeds of armes were, hee wan the prize with sheeld & speare, ) 2 & ener he was the mower. Christ, bless us, and give joy to those that love old heroes I I'll tell you of a hardy knight who always won the prize. In Artoys the ~Knight was borne, & his ffather him beforne ; listen ; I will yon say. 6 1G Sir Prinsamoure the Erie hight ; & Eglamore the hight [the] Knight 7 that curteons was alway ; & he was for a man 8 verament, 20 w/th the Erie was he bent, 9 to none he wold say nay. 10 He was born in Artoys, his name was Eglamore ; he was a man, and never refused a fight. 1 in. — T. in. — P. builde, shelter, as in vol. i. p. 27, 1. 11.— F. 2 boure. — P. 3 yoye— T. joye.— P. 4 honoure. — P. 5 bolde.— P. hardy.— T. 8 Percy marks to come after this : For that he was a man full bolde With the Erie was he holde In housholde nyght & day. The Thornton MS. has: To dedes of armes he ys wente, Wyth the Erie of Artas he ys lente, He faylyth hym not nyght nor daye. 7 Sir Eglam re than hyght the knyglit. — P. Syr Egyllamowre men calle tLo knyjt.— T. 8 And for he was a man. — P. 9 lente.— P. he ys lente.— T. 10 To no man he wolde. — P. T. has : Whylle the erlo had him in holde, Of dedes of armes he was bolde, For no man soydc ho nay. — F. 542 EGLAMORE. The Earl of Artoys has a lovely daughter, Christabell, Eglamore loves her, the Erie had noe Child but one, a maiden as white as whalles bone, 1 24 that his right heyre shold bee ; Christabell was the Ladyes name ; a ffairer maid then shee was ane was none 2 in christentye. 28 Christabell soe well her bore ; the Erie loued nothing more then his daughter ffree ; soe did that gentle knight 22 that was soe full of might ; it was the more pittye. and she loves him. Strange lords come to woo her. A tourney is held, and Eglamore unhorses all her suitors. the knight was both hardy & snell, & knew the ladye loued him well. 36 listen a while & dwell : Lords came ffrom many a Land her to haue, I vnderstand, with fforce ffold 3 and Sell. 40 Sir Prinsamoure then did crye strong lusting & turnamentrye 4 for the loue of Christabell. what man that did her craue, 44 such stroakes Eglamore him gaue, that downe right he ffell. He opens his heart to his chamber- lain, to his chamberlaine 5 then gan he saw, 6 " ffrom thee I cann hyde nought away," 48 (where they did together rest 7 ;) " ffaire ffrand, nought to laine, my councell thou wold not saine ; On thee is all my trust." 1 ivory. — F. as faire. — T. 2 not. — P. Ther was none soche.- 3 ferse folke.— T. 4 Syr Egyllamowre he dud to crye Of dedes of armys utterly. — T. [page 290] -T. 5 squyer, (with a 7 tered lines).- See squier, st. 9. 1. Ill below. — F. 6 say. — P. 7 rest. — P. Rett altered into rest in the MS.— F. EGLAMORE. 343 56 "Master," hee said, "per ma fay, what-soeuer you to me say, I shall itt neuer out cast." " the Erles daughter, soe god me saue, the loue of her but that I haue, my liffe itt may not Last." and Bays he shall die unless he can win ChristabelTs love. " Master" said the young man ffree, " you haue told me jour priuitye ; 60 I will giue you answere to this tale : I vnderstand you are a knight of litle Land, & much wold haue more ; 64 If I shold to that Ladye goe & show joiiT hart & loue, shee lightlye wold let me fare ; the man that heweth ouer hye, 08 some chipp ffalleth on his eye ; thus doth it euer fare. The cham- berlain answers that Eglamore is too poor, the lady ■wouldn't listen to him ; those hewing too high get chips in their eye. 80 " remember Master, of one thing, 1 that shee wold haue both Erie & l£.mg, & many a bold Barron alsoe ; the Ladye will haue none of those, but in her maidenhead hold ; 2 ffor wist her ffather, by heauen Kmg, that you were sett on such a thinge, right deere itt shold be bought, trow yee shee wold King fforsake, & such a simple knight take, but if you haue loued her of old ? " But yet she refuses her rich suitors, and that must be for Eglamore' s love. 1 Syr, than unbe-thanke on thys thyng.-T. 2 3yt wylle scho not have of thoo, But in godenqa hur holdyth so, Tho which y tro-we ys for thy lore and no mo. — T. T. also transposes the next two triplets. — F. 344 EGLAMORE. Moreover, in deeds of arms Eglamore is worth any five other knights. the knight answerd ffull mild : " euer since I was a Child thou hast beene loued of l rn.ee. 84 in any iusting or any stower, saw you me haue any dishonor in battell where I haue bee ? " " Nay, ~M.aster, att all rights 98 you are one of the best knights in all Christentye ; in deeds of armes, by god aliue, thy body is worth other 5." 9-2 " gramercy, Sir," sayd hee : Eglamore goes to his room, and prays God to give him Christabcll as his wife. Eglamore sighed, & said noe more, but to his Chamber gan hee ffare, that richelye was wrought. 96 to god his hands he held vp soone, " hord ! " he said, " grant me a boone as thou on roode me bought ! the Erles daughter, ffaire & ffree, loo that shee may my wiffe bee, ffor shee is most in my thought ; that I may wed her to my wiffe, & in Ioy to lead our liffe ; 2 104 from care then were I brought." Next day he doesn't go to dine in Hall. Christabell asks where lie is. 108 on the morrow that maiden small eate with her ffather in the hall, that was soe faire & bright, all the knights were at meate saue hee the Ladye said, "for gods pittye! where is Sir Eglamore my Knight? 1 lente wyth.— T. and sethen reches in my life. — T. EGLAMOKE. 345 his squier answerd wtth heauye cheere, 112 "he is sicke, & dead ffull neere, he prayeth you of a sight ; he is now cast in such a care, but if he mends not of his fare 116 he liueth not to night." "He is nearly dead, and prays to see you." 10 the Erie vnto his daughter spake, " damsell," he said, " for god sake listen vnto niee ! 120 after me, doe as I thee hend ; l to his chamber see thou wend, ffor hee was curteous & ffree ; ffull truly e w/tk his intent, 124 wt'th lusting & in Turnament, he said vs neuer nay ; if any deeds of armes were, he wan the prize with turnay 2 cleere 128 our worshippe for euer and aye." [page 297] The Earl charges Christabell to go and see Eglamore, who never refused a tourney, and always won the prize. 11 then after meate that Ladye gent did affter her fathers comandement, 3 shee busked her to wend. 132 forth shee went wt'thouten more, for nothing wold shee spare, but went there as hee Lay. 4 " Master," said the squier, " be of good cheere, 136 heere cometh the Erles daughter deere, some words to you to say." After Hall, Christabell goes to Eglamore, 1 After mete do ye as hynde. — T. See 'After meate,' st. 11, 1. 129. But 'after me ' may mean, by my direction, see 1. 130, though I do not know hend in the sense of tell, bid. — F. 2 jurney. — T. 3 Only half the first n in the MS.— F. 1 T. puts in three lines in which Chris- tabell asks the squire how Eglamore is. — F. VOL. II. A A 346 EGLAMORE. .ami asks how he is. " Dying for love of you." " I'm very sorry to grieve you.' " Then be rny wife." 12 & then said that Ladye bright, " how fareth Sir Eglamore ray Knight, 140 that is a man right ffaire ? " " forsoothe, Ladye, as yon may see, •with, woe I am bonnd for the lone of yee, in longing & in care." 144 " Sir," shee said, "by gods pittye, if yon be agrreened ' ffor mee, itt wold greene me full sore !" " damsell, if I might turne to liffe, 148 I wold haue you to my wiffe, if itt yowr will were." " You're a noble knight, and manful in fight. Ask my father, and if he agrees, I will." 13 " Sir," shee said, " soe mote I thee, you are a Noble Knight and ffree, 152 & come of gentle blood ; a manfull man you are in ffeild to win the gree with speare & sheeld nobly by the roode ; 156 Sir, att my ffather read you witt, 2 & see what hee will say to itt ; or if his will bee good, & if that hee be att assent, 160 as I am true Ladie & gent, my will it shalbe good." Eglamore ia in bliss, 164 14 the 'Knight desired noe other 3 blisse when he had gotten his grantesse, 4 but made royall 5 cheere ; he comanded a Sqiuer to goe 1 The rr is much like u in the MS.— F. 2 T. makes the lady take the 'Ask Papa ' on herself, and when they are agreed, she'll not fail Eglamore. — F. 3 kepte no more. — T; 4 geton graunt of thys. — T. 5 hur fulle gode. — T. EGLAMOKE. 347 to ffeitch gold, a 100 l or towe, & giue the 2 Maidens cleere. 168 So* Eglamore said, "soe haue I blisse ! to jour marriage I giue you this, Sbr yee neuer come heere yore." the Lady then thanked & kissed the 'Knujht ; 172 shee tooke her leaue anon-right, " farwell, my true sonne deere." 3 ani^gives Christabcll's maidens 100A Christabell kisses him. 15 then homeward shee tooke the way. 4 " welcome ! " sayd the Erie, " in ffay, 176 tell mee how haue yee doone. say, my daughter as white as any flower, how ffareth my knight Sir Eglamore ? " & shee answered him soone: 180 " fforsooth, to mee he hartilye sware he was amended of his care, good comfort hath hee tane ; he told me & my maidens hende, 184 that hee vnto the riuer wold wend with, hounds & hawkes right." goes back to her father, and tells him Sir Eglamore is quite well, and is going out hawking. 192 16 the Erie said, " soe Mote I thee, with, him will I ryde that sight to see, to make my hart more light." 5 on the morrow, when itt was day, So 1 Eglamore tooke the way to the riuer ffull right, the Erie made him redye there, & both rode to they riuer Next day Eglamore and the Earl hawk 1 and take an hundurd pownd. — T. * Crystyabelle hath takyn hur way. 2 hur.— T. — T. 3 Andseyde ' Farewclle my fere.' — T. 5 For comforte of that knyght. — T. A A 2 348 EGLAMORE. and are pleasant together. 196 to see some ffaire might. all they day they made good cheere : a wrath began, as you may heare, long ere itt was night. 1 But coming home, Eglainore asks if the Earl will hear Mm. " Certainly, I like to hear you : you're the best knight in the land." " When will your daughter be betrothed ? " 17 as they rode homeward in the way, Sir Eglamore to the Erie gan say, 200 " My lord, will you now 2 heare ? " " all ready, Eglamore ; in ffay, whatsoeuer you to me say, to me itt is ffull deere ; 204 ffor why, the doughtyest art thou that dwelleth in this Land now, for to beare sheeld & speare. 3 " " my Lord," he said, " of charitye, 208 Christabell jour daughter ffree, when shall shee haue a ffeere ? " [page 298] " I know no one whom she would have." " Give her to me." "I will, and all Artois too, it you'll do 3 deeds of arms for her." " Thank you! 18 the Erie said, " soe god me saue, I know noe man that shee wold haue, 212 my daughter faire and cleere." " now, good Lore?, I you pray, for I haue serued you many a day, to giue me her wrthouten nay." 216 the Erie said, " by gods paine, if thou her winne as I shall saine, by deeds of armes three, then shalt thou haue my daughter deere, 220 & all Artois ffarr & neere." " gramercy, Sir ! " said hee. 1 long ere night it were.- 2 ye me. — T. 3 Awnturs ferre or nere. — T. EGLAHOKE. 349 19 Sir Eglamore [sware x ], "soe mote I thee, att my iourney 2 ffaine wold I be ! " 224 right soone he made him yare. the Erie said, " here by west dwelleth a Gyant in a fforrcst, — ffowler neuer saw I ere ; — 228 therm be trees ffaire & 3 long, 3 harts 4 run them 5 amono-e, the fairest that on ffoot gone. S/r, might yee bring one away, 232 then durst I boldly say that yee had beene there." let me go to work at once." The Earl sets Eglamore his first feat : to go to a giant's forest, and fetch him one of three harts running about there. 20 6 " fforsooth," said Eglamore then, " if that hee be a Christyan man, 236 I shall him neuer fforsake." the Erie said in good cheere, " with him shalt thou flight in feere ; his name is Sir Marroccke." 240 the ~K.night thought on Christabell ; he swore by him that harrowed hell, him wold he neuer fforsake. " Sir, keepe well my Lady & my Land ! " 244 therto the Erie held vp his hand, & trothes they did strike. Eglamore undertakes to fetch the hart, and fight the giant Marrocke. He commits Christabell to her father's care, 21 then afterwards, as I you say, Sir Eglamore tooke the way The knyght sweryd. — T. The o looks like a in the MS.— F. Cypur trees there growe owto. — T. The h is like an I in the MS.— F. Grete hertys there walke. — T. T. lias for this stanza : Bo Jhesu swere the knyght than, " Yf he he ony Crystyn-man, Y schalle hym nevyr forsake. Holde well my lady and my londe." •• jys," seyde the erle, "here myn honde !" Ilys trowthe to hym he strake. 350 EGLAMORE. tells her ho has under- taken three deeds of arms for her. Christabell hopes God will help him. 248 to that Ladye soe ffree : " damsell," hee said to her anon, " ffor yowr Loue I haue vndertane deeds of Amies three." 252 " good Sir," shee said, " be merry & glad ; x ffor a worsse Iourney you neuer had in noe christyan countrye. if god grant ffrom his grace 256 that wee 2 may ffrom that Iourney apace, god grant it may be soe 3 ! She gives him a grey- hound that'll pull down any stag, and a sword that'll cut any helm in two. 22 " Sir, if you be on hunting ffound, I shall you giue a good greyhound 260 that is dun as a doe ; ffor as I am a true gentle woman, there was neuer deere that he att 4 ran that might scape him ffroe : 264 alsoe a sword I giue thee, that was ffound in the sea 5 ; of such I know noe moe. if you haue happ to keepe itt weele, 268 there is no helme of Iron nor Steele but itt wold carue in 2. Eglamore bids Christa- bell good- bye, [Part II. 6 ] [How Eglamore kills the giant Marrocke and a big Boar.] 23 Eglamore kissed that Lady gent ; he tooke his leaue, & fforth hee went. 1 T. has for the next five lines : For an hardere fytt never ye had, Be God, in no cuntre ! Or that yurney be over passyd, For my love ye schalle sey fulle ofte alias ! And so schalle y for thee. 2 ye.— P. 3 so bee. — P. 4 beste that on fote— T. 5 Seynt Poule fonde hyt in the Grekcs see.— T. a Part I. would end better with stanza 28, 1. 341, where the Thornton version ends its "furste fytt."— F. EGLAMORE. 351 272 2-* 276 Parte 280 his way now hath hee tane ; "The bye streetes held he west till he came to the fforrest ; ffarrer saw he neuer none, With trees of Cypresse lying out. J the wood was walled round abowt w<"th strong walles of stone ; fforthe he rade, as I vnderstand, till he came to a gate that he ffand, & therin is he gone. [page 299] rides to tn(J forest. enters it by a gate, 24 his home he blew in that tyde ; harts start' vpp on euery side, 284 & a noble deere l fFull prest ; the hounds att the deere gan bay. with that heard the Gyant where he lay; itt lett him of his rest ; 288 " methinketh, by hounds that I heare, that there is one hunting 2 my deare ; it were better that he cease 3 ! by him that wore the crowne of thorne, 292 in a worse time he neuer blew a borne, ne dearer bought a messe 4 ! " 25 Marrocke the Gyant tooke the way thorrow the fforrest were itt Lay ; 296 to the gate he sett his backe. Sir Eglamore hath done to dead, blows his horn, and his hounds bay at the deer. The giant Marrocke swears it' be the worst blowing the man ever made, and goes to his gate. 1 Twety does not use the word deer in speaking "of the Hert. Now wyl we speke of the hert ; and speke we of his degres : that is to say, the fyrst yere he is a calfe, the secunde yere a broket, the iij. yeare a spayer, the iiij. yere a stagg, the v. yere a greet stagg, the yj. yeare a hert at the fyrst hed ; but that ne fallith not in jugement of huntersse, for the grot dyversyte that is fownde of hem, for alleway we calle of the fyrst hed tyl that he be of x. of the lasse. Beliq. Antiq. i. 151.— F. - Yondur is a thefe to stele. — T. 3 He were welle bettur to be at the see.— T. 4 Neythur hys bowe bcnde in no manys fee. — T. 352 EGLAMORE. Eglamore kills a stag, cuts his head off, and asks Marrocke to let him pass. Marrocke slaine a hart, & smitten off his head ; the prize l he blew ffull shrill ; 300 & when he came where the gyant was, " good Sir," he sayd, " lett me passe, if that itt be jour will." " nay, traitor ! thou art tane ! 304 my principall 2 hart thou hast slaine ! thou shalt itt like ffull ill." strikes at him and says he'll keep him there. Eglamore hits the giant in the eye, and blinds him, 26 the Gyant att the chase 3 , a great clubb vp hee takes, 308 that villanous was and great 4 ; such a stroke hee him gaue that into the earth went his staffe, a ffoote on euery side. 312 " traitor ! " he said, " what doest thou here in my fforrest to slay my deere ? here shalt thou now abyde." Eglamore his sword out drew, 316 & in his sight made such a shew, 5 & made him bhnd that tyde. but he fights on for two days and more ; then Eglamore kills him, 27 how-be-itt he lost his sight, he ffought with Sir Eglamore that 'Knight 320 2 dayes & some deale more ; till the 3^ 6 day att prime Sir Eglamore waited his time, & to the hart him bare. 1 And whan the hert is take, ye shal bloweiiij. motys . . . and the hed shal lie brout hom to the lord, and the skyn . . . Than blow at the dore of halle the pryse. . . . And whan the buk is i-take, ye shal blowe pryse, and reward your houndes of the paunch and the bowellis. Twety, in Eeliq. Ant. i. 153. Fr. Prise a taking . . . also, the death or fall of a hunted beast. Cotgrave. — F. 2 chefe.— T. 3 to the kny3t ys gon. — T. 4 mekylle and fulle unweelde. — T. 5 And to the geant he gafe a sowe. — T. Sough, a stroke or blow. Jamie- son. — F. 6 Tylle on the todur.— T. EGLAMORE. 353 324 through gods might, & his kniffe, there the Gyant lost his liffe ; ffast he began to rore. ffor certaine sooth, as I you say, 328 when he was meaten 1 there he Lay he was 15 ffoote 2 & more. and he roars. He measures fifteen feet. 28 3 through the might of god, & his kniffe, thus hath the Gyant Lost his liffe ; 332 he may thanke god of his boone ! the Gyants head with him hee bare the right way as hee ffound there, till hee came to the castle of stone. 336 all the whole court came him againe ; "such a head," they gan saine, " saw they neuer none." before the Erie he itt bare, 340 "my Lord," he said, " I haue beene there, in witnesse of you all 4 ! " Eglamore takes the giant's head to the Earl of Artoys, and says he has been to the giant. 29 the Erie said, " sith itt is done, Another Iourney there shall come soone, — [page300] 344 buske thee & make thee yare, — to Sattin, that 5 countrye, ffor therin may noe man bee for doubt 6 of a bore ; 348 his tuskes are a yard 7 long ; what mesh that they doe come among, itt couereth 8 neuer more ; The Earl sets him his second deed of arms : to go to Sattin and kill a big boar there, 1 meted, measured. — F. 2 xl. fote.— T. 3 Mr. Halliwell makes two stanzas of 28, the rhyme-lines varying. — F. 4 For there, 1. 339, compare 1. 233. T. adds (in italics) : Make we rnery, so have we blys, Thys ys the furste fytt of thy s That we have undertone. — F. In Sydon, in that ryche. — T. fear. — F. drede. — T. fote. — T. 8 recovers. — F. 354 EGLAMORE. which kills everything it gets hold of. both man & beast itt slayeth, 352 all that euer hee ouer-taketh, & giueth tbem wounds sore. Eglamore starts again, journeys fourteen days over land and sea, and then comes on traces of the boar, dead men all about. 356 360 364 30 Sir Eglamore wold not gaine-say, he tooke his leaue & went his way, to his Iourney went hee. towards Sattin, I vnderstand, a ffortnight he went on Land, & alsoe soe long on sea. itt ffell againe in the exxen tyde, in the fforrest he did ryde wheras the bore shold bee ; & tydings of the bore soone hee Sound ; by him men Lay dead on many a Land, 1 that pittye itt was to see. Next morning he hears the boar's cry, and sees it come from the sea. 31 Sir Eglamore that Knight awoke, 2 & priuilye lay vnder an oke ; 368 till morrow the sun shone bright, in the fforrest ffast did hee lye ; of the bore he hard a crye, 3 & neerer he gan gone right. 372 ffaire helmes he ffound in fere that men of armes had lefffc there, that the bore had slaine. Eglamore to the cliffe went hee, 376 he saw the bore come from the sea, his morne draught 4 had he tane. 1 The Lawnd in woodes. Saltus Syr Egyllamowre restyd hym undur an nemorum. Baret. Saltus, woodland oke; Pa 2 t ™ e, ~,- F " Tylle ° n the morowe tfl at ho can wake. Ine last words of these lines are 3 on the see he harde a so we.— T. interchanged. T. has : « mopne dryilke ._ T . EGLAMORE. 355 32 the bore saw where the ~Knight stood, his tuskes he whetted as he were * wood, 380 to him he drew that tyde. Sir Eglamore weened well what to doe, with a speare he rode him to as ffast as he might ryde. 384 all if hee 2 rode neuer soe ffast, the good speare assunder brast, it wold not in the hyde. that bore did him woe enonghe, 388 his good horsse vnder him he slough ; on ffoote then mnst hee byde. The boar comes towards him ; Eglamore rides at it, but breaks his spear, and the boar kills his horse. 33 Eglamore saw no boote that tyde, but to an oake he sett his side 392 amongst the trees great ; his good sword he drew out then, & smote vpon 3 the wild swine 2 dayes & some deale more ; 4 396 till the 3* day att noone Eglamore thought his liffe was doone for ffightting with, that bore ; then Eglamore with Egar mood 400 smote of the bores head ; his tuskes he smote of thore. He puts his side to an oak, cuts at the boar two days, till he's nearly dead, but then kills it. 5 the Kmg of Sattin on hunting fare with 15 armed men & more ; The King of Sattin 1 The first e is made over an h in the MS.— F. - Gyfhe.— T. 3 fyghtyth with.— T. 4 Thro dayes and more. — T. * The Thornton version makes Egylla- mowrc only break off the boar's tusks in the preceding stanza, omits lines 2, 5, 7, of this, and has here: He thankyd God that ylke stownde, And gaf the bore hys dethys wound, The boke of Eome thus can telle. — F. 356 EGLAMOKE. hoars the boar yell, and sends a squire to see who's in danger. The squire sees Egla- more fighting the boar. 404 the bore loud hard he yell ; he camanded a squier to flare, " some man is in his perill there ! I trow to long wee dwell." 408 no longer wold the sqiuer tarry, hut rode fast thither, by S' Marye, he was therto fiull snell ' ; vp to the clifle rode hee thore ; 412 Sir Eglamore ffbught flast with the bore [page30i] with stroakes fleirce & ffell. He tells the King the boar is slain by a knight with a blue shield and black spurs. 35 the squier stood & beheld them 2, hee went againe and told soe, 416 "fforsooth the bore is slaine." " Lord ! S' Mary ! how may this bee ? " "a ~K.night is yonder certainlye that was the bores bane ; 420 " of gold he beareth a seemly sight, in a ffeeld of azure an armed K.night, to battell as hee shold gone ; & on the crest vpon the head is 424 a Ladye made in her likenesse ; his spures are sable eche one." The King finds Eglamore lying down, 36 the King said, " soe mote I thee, those rich armers I will see : " 428 & thither hee tooke the way. by that time Sir Eglamore had ouercome the sharp stoure, & ouerthawrt the bore Lay. 2 432 t the ~K.ing said, " god rest with thee ! " "my Lore?," said Eglamore, " welcome be yee, query MS. siell. — F. 2 And to reste hym down he lay. — T. EGLAMORE. 357 436 of peace now I thee pray ! I haue soe ffoughten w/th the bore that certainlye I may noe more ; this is the 3 d day." exhausted ; 37 they all said anon-right, " great sinn itt were With thee to flight, 440 or to doe thee any teene; manffully thou hast slaine this bore that hath done hurt sore, & many a mans death hath beene ; 444 thou hast manfully vnder sheeld slaine this bore in the ffeild, that all wee haue seene ! this haue I wist, the sooth to say, 448 he hath slaine 40 l on a day of my armed knights keene ! 2 praises him for killing the boar that had slain so many knights ; 38 meat & drinke they him brought, rich wine they spared nought, 452 & white clothes they spread, the ~King said, " soe mote I thee, I will dine for loue of thee ; thou hast been hard bestead." 456 " forsoooth," then Sir Eglamore saies, " I haue ffought these 4 dayes, 3 and not a ffoote him ffledd." then said the King, " I pray thee 460 all night to dwell with mee, & rest thee on a bedd." provides him meat and wine : dines with him, and asks him home to sleep. T. has syxty.— T. Welle armyd men and clone. — T. The three days have grown to four "Ye," he seyde, "permafay, Now hyt ys the fyrste day That evyr oon fote y fledd." — F. 358 EGLAMORE. Eglamore tells the King what his name is, and the King tells him of a 39 & after meate, the soothe to say, the King Sir Eglamore did pray 464 " of what country hee was." " my name," he said, "is Sir Eglamore l I dwell alsoe with Sir Prinsamoure, that Erie is of artoys." 468 then Lords to the King drew, " this is hee that Sir Marroccke slew, the gyants brother Mamasse. 2 " Sir," said the King, " I pray thee 472 these 3 dayes to dwell with mee, from mee thou shalt not passe ; Giant near who wants to seize his daughter, and is Marrocke's brother. 40 " there dwelleth a Gyant here beside ; my daughter that is of micklell pride, 476 he wold haue me ffroe; I dare to no place goe out but men of armes be me about, for dread of my foe. 3 480 the bore thou hast slaine here, that hath liued here this 15 yeere 4 christen men for to sloe, Now is he gone with sorrow enough [page 301] s 484 to [berye 6 ] his brother that thou slough." [that evyrmore be hym woo ! 7 ] No one can cut up the boar 41 to break 8 the bore they went ffull tyte ; there was noe kniffe that wold him bitte, 9 1 He said " My name is Syr Awntour." — T. 2 Yondur ys he that Arrok slowee, The yeauntys brodur Maras. — T. 8 Fulle seldoine have y thus sene soo. — T. 4 He hath fedd hym xv yere. — T. 5 There are two pages 301 in the MS., and no page 302. — F. 6 berye T. 7 From the Thornton MS.— F. 8 splatt— T. 9 Query MS.; it may be kitte.—E, byte.— T. EGLAMORE. 359 488 soe hard of hyde was hee. " Sir Eglamore, 1 thou him sloughc ; I trow thy sword 2 be good enough ; haue done, I pray thee." 3 492 Eglamore to the bore gan gone, & claue him by the ridge 4 bone, that ioy itt was to see ; "Lordings," he said, "great & small, 5 496 giue me the head, & take you all ; for why, that is my ffee." but Egla- more, who claims only his head. 42 the King said, " soe god me saue ! the head thou shalt haue ; 500 thou hast itt bought full deere ! " 6 all the countrye was ffaine, for the wild 7 bore was slaine, they made ffull royall cheere. 504 the Queene said, " god send 8 vs from shame ! ffor when the Gyant cometh home, new ty dings shall be here. 9 " The people rejoice at the boar's death. 508 43 against euen the ILing did dight a bath ffor that gentle Knight, 1 Syr Awntour, seyde the kyng. — T. 2 knyfe.— T. 3 Gyf that thy wylle bee.— T. 4 A. -Sax. hricg, ricg, the back. — F. 5 Lorde, seyde the knyght, y dud hym falle.— T. 6 Aftur eartys can they sende ; Ageyn none home with that they wende, The cyte was them nere. — T. 7 wekyd.— T. 8 schylde.— T. 9 gete we sone. — T., and it adds, p. 142: For he ys stronge and stowte, And therof y havo mekylle dowte That he wyllo do us grete dere or we have done. XLV. Syr Egyllamowre, that nobylle kny3t, Was sett with the kyuges doghtyr bryght, For that he scholde be blythe. The maydenys name was Organata so fre ; Sche preyeth hym of gode cliere to bee, And besechyd hym so many a sythe. Aftur mete sche can hym telle How that geant wolde them quelle : The knyght began to lagh anorie ; " Damyselle," ho seyde, "so mote y theo, And he come whylle y here bee, Y schalle hym assay sone !" 360 EGLAMORE. Eglamore lies in a bath, all niglit. that was of Erbes l good. Sir Eglamore therin Lay till itt was light of the day, 512 that men to Mattins 2 yode. [Part III. 3 ] [How Eglamore kills another Giant, and a Dragon near Rome, and begets a Boy on Christabell.] Next morning the Giant comes, and demands the King's daughter Arnada. Eglamore tells a squire to show the Giant the boar's head. The Giant swears he'll avenge its death, 516 3? PartX 520 524 528 By the time he had heard masse, the Gyant to this place come was, & cryed as hee were wood ; " Sir King," he said, " send vnto mee Arnada 4 thy danghter ffree, or I shall 5 spill thy blood." 44 Sir Eglamore an on- right 6 in good armour he him dight, & vpon the walles he yode 7 ; he camanded a squier to beare the bores head vpon a speare, that the Gyant might itt 8 see. & when he looked on the head, " alas ! " he said, 9 " art thou dead ? my trust was all in thee ! now by the Law that I liue in, 10 my litle speckeled hoglin, 11 deare bought shall thy death bee ! " 1 Sibes — P. The MS. is indistinct, and the Bishop explains it. See the way to prepare a bath in Russel's Boke of Nurture, Babees Soke cf c. E. K, 1 ext Soc. 1868, p. 182-5. 2 mete.— T. 3 T. ends its seconde fytt with stanza 52, 1. 611 below.— P. 4 Organata.— T. 5 thou schalt.— T. 6 that nobylle knyght.- — T. 7 for ' yode he.' — F. wendyth hee. — T. 8 Maras myght hym. — T. 9 my bore. — T. 10 leve ynne. — T. 11 spote hoglyn. — T. Fr. cochonnet, a shote or shete pigge, a prettie big pig. — Cotgrave. EGLAMORE. 361 45 the Gyant on the walls donge ; 532 att euery stroke fyer out spronge ; for nothing wold he spare, towards the castle gan he crye, " false traitor ! thou shalt dye l 536 for slaying of my bore ! yowr strong walles I doe 2 downe ding, & -with, my hands I shall the hange 3 ere that I ffurther passe. 4 " 540 but through the grace of god almight, the Gyant had his mil of fight, & therto some deale more. 5 and threatens to kill Egla- more. 46 b Sir Eglamore was not agast ; 544 on might-ffull god was all his trust, & on his sword soe good, to Eglamore said the K.ing then, " best is to arme vs euery e man ; 548 this theefe, I hold him woode." Eglamore trusts in God and his good sword, 552 47 b Sir Eglamore sware by the roode, " I shall him assay if hee were wood ; mickle is gods might ! " he rode a course to say his steed, he tooke his helme & forth hee yeede ; All men prayed for that KmgM. [page 303J gives his steed a gallop, 48 Sir Eglamore into the ffeild taketh ; 556 the Gyant see him, 7 & to him goeth ; takes the field, 1 Thevys, traytures, ye schalle abye. -T. 2 schalle.— T. s hynge.— T. 4 fare, qu. — P. Or that y hens fare. -T. 5 mair. — P. 6 T. makes one stanza, XLIX, of these, p. 144-5, and alters the arrange- ment of the lines, &c. — F. 7 him has a line through it. — F. VOL. II. B I! 'M'A EGLAMORE. mid ohargcH the iant, W'llO UpSCtS liim and his horse. "welcome," he said, " my ffeere ! thou art hee that slew ! my bore ! that shalt thou repent ffull sore, 560 & buy itt wonderous deere ! " Sv'r Eglamore weened well what to doc; wtth a speare he rode him to, as a man of armes cleere. 564 against him the Gyant was rcdy bowne, but horsse & man he bare all downe, that dead ho was ffull nere. KglilUIOIV attacks him on foot. and cuts olT i he < 1 Lant's right ana, but ho fights on tin sun- down, and then drops dead. They ring the bells ; King Edward promises to crow n Eglamore 49 S/r Eglamore cold noe better read, 568 but what time his horsse was dead, to his ffoote he hath him tane ; & then Eglamore to him gan goe ; the right arme he smote him froe, 572 euen by the sholdcr bone ; & tho he 2 had lost his hand, all day hee stood a ffightand till the ssun to rest gan goe ; 576 3 the sooth to say, w/thoutcn lye, he sobbed & was soe drye that liffe him lasteth none. 50 all that on the walles were, 580 when they heard the Gyant rore, ffor ioy the bells the ring. Edmond was the Kings 4 name, swore to Sir Eglamore, " by St. lame, 584 here shalt thou be JLing ! 1 Y trowe thou halpe to sle. — T. - Thowe the lorelle.— T. 8 Then was he so wery ho myjt not stonde, Tho blode ran so faste fro hym on every honde, That lyfe dayes hadd he nevyr oon. — T. . kyngea.— T. EGLAMORE. 363 588 592 596 600 604 608 " to-morrow thow slialt crowned bee, & thou slialt wed my daughter ffree with, a curyous rich ringe ! " Eglamore answered with words mild : " god l giue you ioy of yo«r child ! ffor here I may not abyde longe. 2 " 51 " Sir Eglamore, for thy doughtye deedc thou shalt not be called lewd in noe place where thou goe ! " 3 then said Arnada, 4 that sweete thing, " haue here of me a o'old ring: with, a precyous stone ; where-soe you bee on water or Land, & this ring vpon jour hand, nothing may you slone." 52 " gramercy ! sayd Eglamore ffree. " this 15 yeeres will I abyde thee, soe that you will me wed ; this will I sweare, soe god me saue, ~K.ing ne Prince nor none will haue, if they be comlye cladd ! " "damsell," he said, "by my ffay, by that time I will you say how that I haue spedd." he tooke the Gyants head & the bore, & towards Artoys did he ffare, god helpe me att neede ! 5 and marry him to his daughter. Eglamore declines the young lady, though she gives him a charmed ring and offers to wait fifteen years for him. He puts her off, and starts towards Artoys. 1 Syr. — T. 2 may ye not lende. — T. 3 Y schalle geve the a nobylle stede, Al so redd as ony roone ; Yn yustyng ne in turnement, Thou schalt never soffur dethys wound "Why lie thou syttyst hym upon. — T. * Seyde Organata. — T. 5 The knyght takyth hys leve and farys, Wyth the geauntys hedd and the borys, The weyes owre Lord wylle hym lede. Thys ys the seconde fytt of thys : Make we mcry, so have we blys, For fern have we to rede. — T. B B 2 364 EGLAMORE. In seven weeks Egla- more reaches Artoys, is greeted by Christabell , 53 612 by that 7 weekes were comen to end, euen att Artoys lie did lend, wlieras Prinsamonre was. the Erie therof was greatly faine 616 that Eglamore was come againe ; soe was both more 1 and lesse. when Christabell as white as swan, heard tell how Eglamore was come, 620 to him shee went fnll yare ; 2 whom he kisses, but her father says, " Devil take you, will nothing kill you? You want my land and my daughter I suppose." 54 the Knight kissed that Lady gent, then into the hall hee went the Erie for to teene. 624 The Erie answered, & was ffull woe " what devill ! may nothing thee sloe ? forsooth, right as I weene, thon art about, as I vnderstand, 628 for to whin Artoys & all my Land, & alsoe my daughter cleane." [page 304] "I do. Eglamore "Oh! perhaps you'll get killed yet." Eglamore asks for twelve weeks rest ; 55 Sir Eglamore said, " soe mote I thee, not but if I worthy bee ; 632 soe god giue me good read ! " 3 the Erie said, " such chance may flail, that one may come & quitt all, be thou neuer so prest." 636 " but good hord, I you pray, of 12 weekes to giue me day, ' One stroke too many in the MS. m. —P. 2 T. adds : " Syr," sche seyde, " how haue ye faryn ? " " Damycelle, welo, and in travelle byn To brynge us bothe owt of care." 3 Helpe God that ys beste.— T. EGLAMORE. 365 640 my weary body to rest." 12 weekes were granted then by prayer of many l a gentleman, & comforted him with the best. 56 Sir Eglamore after supper went to Christabells chamber 644 w/th torches burning bright. the Ladye was of soe great pride, 2 shee sett him on her bedside, & said, " welcome, Sir Knight ! " 648 then Eglamore did her tell of adventures that him befell, but there he dwelled all night. " damsell," he said, " soe god me speed, 652 I hope in god you for to wedd !" & then their trothes they plight. 3 57 by that 12 weekes were come & gone, Christabbell that was as faire as sunn, 4 656 all wan waxed her hewe. shee said vnto her maidens ffree, " in that yee know my priuitye, 5 looke that yee bee trew ! " 660 the Erie angerlye gan ffare, he said to Eglamore, "make thee yare for thy Iourney a-new ! " When Christabell therof heard tell, 6 664 shee mourned night & day, that all men might her rue. after supper goes to ChristabelFs chamber, stays there all night, and begets a son on her. In twelve weeks Christabell grows wan , and begs her maids to keep her secret. The Earl orders Egla- more off, and Christa- bell mourns. Only half the n is in the MS. — F. was not for to hyde. — T. T. adds : So graeyously he come hur tylle, Of poyntes of armys he schewyd hur hys fylle, That there they dwollyd alio nyjt. 4 as whyte as fome. — T. 5 Sche prayed hur gentylle women so fro, That they would layne hur privy to. — T. 8 say.— P. 366 EGLAMORE. Eglamoro's Third Deed of Aims is to kill a strong Dragon near Rome. 58 the Erie said, " there is mee told long, beside Roome there is a dragon strong ; 668 forsooth as I you say, the dragon is of such renowne there dare noe man come neere the towne by 5 miles and more ; * 672 arme thee well & thither wend ; looke that thou slay him w/th thy hand, or else 2 say mee nay." Eglamore takes leave of Chruta- bell, gives her a gold ring, and goes to Rome. 59 Sir Eglamore to the chamber went, 676 & tooke his leaue of the Ladye gent, white as mower on ffeelde 3 ; " damsell," he said, " I haue to doone ; I am to goe, & come againe right soone 680 through the might of Marry mild, a gold ring I will giue thee ; keepe itt well for the loue of mee if christ send me a child." 684 & then, in Romans as wee say, to great roome he tooke his way, to seeke the dragon wild. 4 The Dragon throws down him and his horse. 60 if he were neuer soe hardye a ILnight, fi88 when of the dragon he had a sight, his hart began to be cold. 5 anon the dragon waxed wrothe, he smote Siir Eglamore & his steed bothe, 692 that both to ground they ffell. 6 1 Ee xv. myle of way. — T. 2 ellys thou.— T. After nay T. adds six lines not in our text.— F. 3 in may. — P. 1 The Thornton text adds : Tokenynges sone of hym he fonde, Slayne men on every honde ; Be hunderdes he them tolde. — F. to folde.—T. To the grounde so colde. — T. EGLAMORE. 367 Eglamore rose, & to him sett, & on that ffowle worme hee bett with stroakes many and bold ' ; [page 305] Eglamore attacks the Dragon, 61 696 the dragon shott fire with his mouth like the devill of hell ; Si'r Eglamore neere him gan goe, & smote his taile halfe him ffroe 2 ; 700 then he began to yell, & with the stumpe that yett was leaued he smote Sir Eglamore on the head ; that stroake was ffeirce and ffell. cuts half its tail ofE, is wounded himself in the head, 62 704 "Sir Eglamore neere him gan goe, the dragons head he smote of thoe, fforsooth as I you say, his wings he smote of alsoe, 3 708 he smote the ridge bone in 2, & wan the ffeild that day. the Emperour of Roome Lay 4 in his tower & ffast beheld S/r Eglamore, 712 & to his ~K.nights gan say, " doe cry in Roome, the dragons slaine ! a knigh[t] him slew with might & maine, manfully, by my ffay ! " 716 through Roome they made a crye, euery officer in his baylye, " the dragon is slaine this day ! " but kills the Dragon. The Emperor Constantino of Rome orders the Dragon's death to bo proclaimed, 720 63 & then the Emperour tooke the way to the place where Eglamore Lay, then goes to Eglamore, 1 Wyth byttur dynte and felle. — T. ■ Halfe the tonge he stroke away. — T. 3 The knyght seydo, " Now am y schente ! " Nere that wyckyd worme he went; Hys hedd ho stroke away. — T. stode.— T. 368 EGLAMORE. brings him to Rome, and the people meet him in procession. beside that ffoule tiling, with all that might ride oi' e;one. S«'r Eglamore they haue vp tane, "24 & to the towne they can him bring ; ffor ioy that they dragon was slaine, they came w/th procession him againe, and bells they did ringe. '28 the Emperonr of Roome brought him soone, Constantino, that was his name, a Jjord of great Longinge. Cons tan- tine's daughter Vyardus heals Egla- more's head, and saves his life. 64 1 all that euer saw his head, 732 the said that Eglamore was but dead, that Knight Sir Eglamore. the Emperour had a daughter bright, shee vndertooke to heale the K» ight, 736 her name was vyardus. 2 3 with good salues shee healed his head & saued him ffrom the dead, thai Lady of great valours : 740 & there wrthin a little stoncl shee made S*'r Eglamore whole & sound ; god giue her honor ! 3 1 T. omits the next three lines. — F. 2 ys Dawntowre. — T. 3-3 The Thornton text has for these : Scho savys hym fro the dedd, And with hur handy s sche helyth hys hedd A twelmonth in hnr bowre. It then adds two stanzas of twelves, (LXVH, LXVIII, p. 153-4) telling how the Emperor had the Dragon's body fetched into Rome, and put in "seynt Laurens kyrke." As to this church, see Stations of Rome, p. 13 ; Pol. Bet. # Love Poems, p. 132. p. xxxv. — F. EGLAMORE. 369 744 4'! parte < 748 [Part IV.] [How Christabell's child is born, and a Griffin flics away with it.] 65 Anon word came to Artois how that the dragon slaine was : a Knight that deede had done. hoc long at the Leeche-craft he did dwell, that a ffaire sonne ' had Christabell as white as whales bone. 2 then the Erie made his vow, " daughter ! into the sea shalt thou in a shipp thy selfe alone ! Thy younge sonne shall be thy fere, 3 christendome 4 getteth itt none here ! " her maidens wept eche one. 752 While- I moK under the doctor's hands, Christabell has a son. Her father vows hell send her and ll'rr bl to sea alone. 66 8 her mother in swoone did ffall, 756 right soe did her ffreinds all that wold her any good, "good Lord," she said, " I you pray, let some prest a gospell say, 760 ffor doubt of ffeendes in the mood. ffarwell," shee said, "my maidens firee ! greet well my Lord when you him see." they wept as they were woode. 764 Leaue wee now St Stales a were there, ■ I hex 3 oux . • • -v K tho i swJyi wept, a a ?80 :' ..:t ouov si-.. ■ \ ohihl is utkou mo ffi tho 1\ of K.'.-vll OB huntings wont . ho s:iw whoiv tho tVoulo lout ; 784 towards him gas he goe .: griflbn, tho Ivoko snith : ' M ho L Mot U) Is.-uvll o!i«l light, M«l likoo! ill j tho grifibn thou lotht hini t In ■ .- I 69 .i gentlewoman bo tl ; child ' ' gas pe A Lapp[1 ' hi m a mantle of Scarlet! was, A w.th ;i noh u:uv " 1 tv,*i,\ r. ' there had iv n kendo londe r. pyge, T. V'v griffbu, i\'t;'.v;\v>-. (irvj'o. bym> i ho chylde r. ' l':P.U' ,>i" llll'r,', ( I' :'■.■■- M , \) . .i skiaae, (oil or hide (Cotgmve) . uviu 1. .;■.;■: ■;:.>. U.iv. l'|v ivuutiT|vw<>\ the ohild was larw; ©f lirn & lythe, •rdle of gold itt was bound w>th, 796 with worsse oloth lit was eladd. the Kmg mr&rQ by the r . I * the child fa come of gejstle hi-. whefwenet fhat hoe was ma & Jo* he fFroe the Griffon fFell, they xv... x:II, I hot ! -. in wilsome way. ■ l tegra- the Km'/ wold hnnt noe more that tyde, 804 but w^th the child hornew a ... ryde, fhat ffYom the Griffon was hent. ;.rn," ho sa<'d to h. .if;, " (Trill, oft f bane a h >eene; this day #od hath me lent." hat Child he was hi y the; after nnrses shoe went belino ; tho child was lonelyo o-ent. m &f this chylde, <% talko wo.o of bis mother mild, I bor sent. him ho i •: for imf:. 71 all tin fa@$ La 816 a wind rose vpon tho ' ( e Land her dn'neth. iri /' [jjrp was neither mast nor oro. 1 enery stroamo vpon other (hat 8a»t rpos h< 'h. & as the great booke of Roome sa. sbo.e was w/thont r. eat elifFi yen , the sea, I fiw: 2 M, 372 EGLAMORE. and then reaches Egypt. The King sends a squire to her. Christabell cannot speak to the squire, 824 by that 5 dayes were gone, god sent her succonr soone ; in cegipt l shee arriued. 72 the "King of .^Egipt l lay in his tower, 828 & saw the Ladye as white as fflower that came right neere the Land ; he comanded a Squire ffree to ' Looke what in that shipp might bee 832 that is vpon the sand.' the Squier went thither ffull tite, on the shipbord he did smite, a Ladye vp then gan stand ; 836 Shee might not speake to him a word, but lay & looked ouer the bord, & made signes with her hand. 2 [page 307] who goes back to the King, and tells him what a lovely foreign woman he has seen. 73 the squier wist not what shee ment ; 840 againe to the K.ing he went, & kneeled on his knee : " Lord, in the shipp nothing is, sauing one in a womans Likenesse 844 that ffast looked on mee. but on 3 shee be of fflesh & bone, a ffairer saw I neuer none, saue my Ladye soe ffree ! 4 848 shee maketh signes with her hand ; shee seemeth of some ffarr Land ; vnknowen shee is to mee. 5 1 The MS. may be either (E or M in this and other cases. — F. 2 The Thornton text adds : Make we mery for Goddys est; Thys ys the thrydd fyttc of owre geste, That dar y take an hande. — 3 an, if.— F. 4 But hyt were Mary free. — T. 5 Beyonde the Grekys see. — T. F. KGLAMORE. 373 74 Sir Marmaduke ' highet the Kmg, 2 852 he went to see that sweet tiling, he went a good pace, to the Ladye he said in same, " speake, woman, on gods name ! " 856 against him shee rose. the Lady that was soe meeke & mildc, shee had be wept sore her child, that almost gone shee was. 3 860 home to the court they her Ledd, with good meates they her ffedd ; 4 with good will shee itt taketh. 5 King Mar- maduke goes to Christabell, speaks to her, takes her borne to Court, feeds her well, 75 " Now, good damsell," said the Kmg, 864 " where were you borne, my sweet thing ? yee are soe bright of blee." " Lord, in Artois borne I was ; Sir Prinsamoure my ffather was, 868 that Lord is of that Countrye ; I and my maidens went to play by an arme of the sea ; Iocund wee were and Iollye : 872 they wind was lithe, a bote there stood, I and my squier in yode, but vnchristened was hee. and asks her who she is. Christabell tells him, and says she got into a boat with her boy, 76 " on land I lefft my maidens all, 876 my younge squier on sleepe gan flail, my mantle al on him I threw ; wrapped him in her mantle, 1 Marmaduke seems to have been from Marmaluke. — Pencil note. 2 Be Ihesu swere that gentylle kynge. — T. T. doesn't give " The kyng of Egypt " a name. — F. 3 Sche was wexyn alle horse. — T. 4 Dylycyus metys they liur badd. — T. 5 sche them tase. — T. 374 E GLAMORE. and a griffin flew away with him. " All right, you shall be my niece then:" and Christa- bell stays in Egypt. a griffon there came that rouglit nie care, my yotmge squier away hee bare, 8S0 southeast with him hee drew." " damsell," he sa*d, "be of good cheere, thou art my brothers daughter deere." ifor Ioy of him shee louge ; 884 * & there shee did still dwell till time that better beffell, with ioy and mirth enoughe. 1 [Part V.] [How Eglamore comes back to Artois, and goes to the Holy Land for fifteen years ; and how Christabell marries her own son.] As soon as Eglamore recovers, he leaves Home, to go home to Christa- bell. He reaches Artois, 77 Now is Eglamore whole & sound, & well healed of his wound ; homeward then wold bee flare, of the Emperour he tooke leaue I- wis, 5 : d parte J of the daughter, & of the Empresse, 892 & of all the meany that were there. Christabell was most in his thought : the dragons head hee home brought, on his speare he itt bare. 896 by that 7 weekes were come to end, in the land of Artoys can he Lend, wheras the Erie gan flare. and his squire tells him that Christabell is dead. in the court was told, as I vnderstand, 900 how that Eglamore was come to Land with the di*agons head, his Squier rode againe him soone, " Sir, thus hath our Lord do one ; 2 904 fiaire Christabell is dead ! 1—1 Kepe we thys lady whyte as flowre, And speke wo of syr Egyllamowre ; Now comyth to hym care y-nogh. — T. 2 Lo ! lorde, what the erle hath done ! — T. EGLAMORE. 375 908 a ffaire sonne shee had borne ; 1 bothe they are now fforlorne through his ffalse read ; l In 2 a shipp hee put them 2, & with the wind let them goe." then swooned 3 he where hee stood. Her father sent her and her boy [page 308] out to sea in a ship. Eglamore swoons, 79 " alas ! " then said the Knight soe ffree, 912 " Lord ! where may my maidens bee that in her chamber was ? " the Squier answered him null soone, " as soone as shee was doone, 916 ech one their way did passe." Eglamore went into the hall before the Squiers & knights all : " & thou, Erie of Artoys ! 920 take," he said, "the dragons head ! all his mine that here his lead ! what dost thou in this place ? " 4 asks after Christabell's maidens, goes to the Earl of Artois, gives him the Dragon's head, claims all his goods, and asks him what he's doing there. 80 great dole itt was to heere 924 when he called Christabell his fere : " what ! art thou drowned in the sea ? god that dyed on the rood bitterlye, 5 on thy soule haue mercye, 928 and on that younge child soe ffree ! " the Erie was soe feard of Eglamore that he was ffaine to take his tower ; G Eglamore laments over Christabell and her boy, 1—1 The erle hath hys lyfe forlorne, He was bothe whyte and rede. — T. 2 Im in MS.— P. 3 Swooning was the correct thing for a knight, and on very much less provo- cation than this. See many instances in Seynt Graal, &c. &c. It betokened the possession of delicate feelings. — F. * Alle ys myn that here ys levydd. Thou syttyst in my place. — T. 5 on crosse verye. — T. G Tho erle rose up and toke a towrc. — T. 376 EGLAMORE. and calls on all who want knighthood to go with him. that euermore woe him bee ! 932 Eglamore said, "soe god me saue, all that the order of Km>/it-hoode will hauc, rise vp & goe with mee ! ,l He dubs thirty-two knights, starts for the Holy Land, 81 they were ffull fame to do his will ; 936 vp they rose, & came him till ; he gaue them order soone. the while that he in hall abode, 32 l knights he made, 940 ffrom morne till itt was noone. 2 those that liuing had none, he gaue them liuing to hue vpon, ffor Christabell to pray soone. 944 then anon, I vnderstand, he tooke the way to the holy Land, where god on the rood was done. and lives there fifteen years, fighting all wrong- livers. His son Degrabell is now grown big, 82 Sir Eglamore, as you heare, 948 he dwelled there 15 yeere the heathen men amonge ; null manffullye he there him bare, where any deeds of armes were, 952 against him that liued wronge. in battell or in turnament there might no man withstand his dent, but downe right he him thronge. 956 by that 15 yeeres were gone, his sonne that the griffon had tane, was waxen both stiffe and stronge. V. and thretty.— T. And he that was the porest of them alle, He gaf for Crystyabellys soule Londys to leve upon. A thousand, as y undurstonde, He toke with hym, and went into the Holy Londe, There God on cros was done. — T. EGLAMORE. 377 83 now was degrabell waxen wiglit ; 960 the King of Isarell dubbd him a 'Knight and Prince with his hand. Listen, Lords great and small, of what manner of armes he bare, 964 & yee will vnderstand : he bare in azure, a griffon of gold richlye portrayed in the mold, on his clawes hano-ins-e 968 a man child in a mantle round & with, a girdle of gold bound, without any Leasinge. is dubbed knight, and these are his arms : on a shield of azure a golden griffin carrying a boy with a girdle of gold. 84 the King of Isarell, hee waxed old ; 972 to degrabell his sonne he told, " I wold thou had a wiffe while that I liue, my sonne deere ; when I am dead, thou hast noe ffere, 976 riches is soe riffe." * a messenger stoode by the King : " in -(Egipt is a sweet thing, I know noe such on liue ; 980 the King, fforsooth, this oath hath sworne, there shall none her haue that is borne But he winne her by striffe." [ pag e 309] the King said, " by the rood, 984 wee will not Lett if shee bee good ; haue done, & buske vs swythe." anon-right they made them yare, & their armour to the shipp the bare, 988 to passe the watter beliue. The King of Isarell asks Degrabell to marry. They are told of Christabell in Egypt ; but he who wins her must fight for her. They make ready, sail off, VOL. II. 1 When y am dcdd, thou getyst no pore, Of ryches thou art so ryi'e. — T. C C 378 EGLAMORE. land in Egypt, and announce their coming to the King of Egypt. He welcomes them, 85 by tthat 7 dayes 1 were comen to end, in segipt Land they gan Lend, the vnconthe costes to see. 2 992 messengers went before to tell, " here cometh the Kmg of Isarell with a ffaire Meany, & the Prince with many a "Knight, 996 ffor to haue jour daughter bright, if itt jour wil be." the King said, " I trow I shall ffind Lodging 3 if or you all ; 1000 right welcome yee are to mee ! " leads the King of Isarell into the hall, 86 then trumpetts in the shipp 4 rose, & euery man to Land goes ; the Knights were clothed in pall. 1004 the younge Knight of 15 yeere, he rydeth, as yee may heere, a ffoote aboue them all. the King of Isarell on the Land, 1008 the King of iEgipt takes him by the hand & Ledd him into the hall : 5 " Sir," said the King, "ffor charity e, will you lett mee jour daughter see, 5 1012 white as bone of whall ? " and lets him see Christa- bell. Her son Degrabell desires her, 1016 87 the Lady ffrom the chamber was brought ; with mans hands shee seemed wrought & carued out of tree, her owne Sonne stood & beheld : 1 Be th[r]e wekys.— T. 2 Ther forsus for to knowe swythe. -T. 3 redy yustyng. — T. 4 Trnmpus in the topp-castelle. — T. 5 Y prey the thou gyf me a syght Of Crystyabelle, yowre doghtyr bryght.— T. EGLAMORE. 379 " well worthy e him that might wold ! " thus to himselfe thought hee. the King of Isarell asked then 1020 if that she l might passe the streame, his souues wiffe fFor to bee. " Sir," said the King, " if that you may meete me a stroake to-morrowe, 1024 thine asking grant I thee." 88 Lords in hall were sett, & waites blew to the meate. they made all royall cheere ; 1028 the 2 Kings the desse began, 2 Sir Degrabell & his mother then, the 2 were sibb ffull neere. then Knights went to sitt I- wis, 1032 & euery man to his office, to serue the Knights deere ; & affter meate washed they, 3 & Clarkes grace gan say 1036 in hall, as you may heere. 89 then on the morrow when day sprong gentlemen in their armour 4 throng, Degrabell was flight ; 1040 the King of JEgipt gan him say in a fFaire ffeeld that day With many a noble Knight, what time the great Lord might him see, 1044 they asked, " what Lord that might bee w/th the griffon soe bright ? " and may have tier if he wins her They iline. and Degra- bell and his mother have the high seat. Next day Degrabell arms, and the King of Egypt tries him. 1 MS. the. Yf she.— T. (with other changes). — F. 2 had the chief seats on the dais. — F. 3 See the operation described in The Boke of Curtasyc §c. (E. E. Text Soc. 1867).— F. T. has: Aftur mete, than seydo they Deus pads, clerkys canne seye. 4 to haruds.— T. c c 2 380 EGLAMORE. 1048 the ruler of that game gan tell, "this is the Prince of Isarell ! beware ! ffor he is wight." Degrabell sits firm, unhorses the King, wins Christ- tabell, 90 the Kmg of yEgipt tooke a shafft ; the Prince saw that, & sadlye sate, if he were neuer soe keene. 1 1052 against the King he made him bowne, And on the ground he cast him downe, the ground that was soe greene. they King said, " soe god me saue, 105G thou art worthy her to haue ! ' : soe said they all by-deene. [page 310] and by God's might marries his mother. She sees his arms, 91 euerye Lord gan other assay, & squiers on the other day, 1060 that doughtye were of deede. Si'r Degrabell his troth hee plight ; & Christabell, that Ladye bright, to church they her ledd. 1064 through the might of god he 2 spedd, his owne mother there he wedd, in Romans as wee reade. 3 shee saw his armes him beforne 4 ; 1068 shee thought of him that was forlorne, shee wept like to be dead. 92 " what cheere," he said, " my Lady cleere 5 ? " what weepe you, & make such heauye cheere ? 1072 methinkes you are in thought." 1 ? MS. keere.— F. 2 Thus gracyously he hath. — T. s Thus harde y a clerke rede. — T. 1 MS. beforme— F. 5 The word may be clcerre. T. omits this and the next two lines. — F. EGLAMOKE. 381 " Sir, in ycmr armes now I see a ffoule that [rafte] on a time ffrom mee a child that I deere bought, 1 1076 that in a scarlett mantle was wound, & in a girdle of gold bound that richefy was wrought." the King of Isarell said ffull right, 1080 " in my fforrest the ffoule gan Light ; a griffon to Land him brought." and tells him how a bird toot her boy away, in a mantle, and with a gold girdle on. The King of Isarell says the Griffin alighted in his land, 93 he sent a squier ffull hend, & bade him ffor the mantle wende 1084 that hee was in Layd. beffore him itt was brought ffull yare, the girdle & the mantle there, that richly e were graued. 1088 "alas ! " then said that Lady ffree, "this same the Griffon tooke ffrom mee.' in swoning downe shee braid. " how long agoe ? " the King gan say. 1092 " S/r, 15 yeere par ma ffay." they assented to that shee said. and the boy was brought to him. Christabell says the boy was hers, and it's fifteen years ago. 94 " fforsooth, my sonne, I am afraid that to 2 sibb maryage wee haue made 1096 in the beginninge of this moone." " damsell, looke, — soe god me saue ! — which, of my Knights thou wilt haue." then degrabell answered soone, 1100 "Sir, I hold you[r] Erles good, & soe I doe my mother, by the roode, that I wedded before they noone ; She tells her son -husband that their marriage is void. The King offers her any husband she'll choose. No, says Degrabell, 1 That sometyme rafte a chykle fro me, A knyght fulle clere hym boght. — T. 2 When to stands for too, the o will be accented hereafter. — F. 382 EGLAMORE. the knights must fight for her. there shall none haue her certainly e 1104 but if he winne her with maisterye as I my-selfe haue cloone." All the lords agree to do so. 95 then euery Lord to other gan say, " ffor her I will make delay 1 1108 with a speare & sheeld in hand ; who-soe may winne that Lady clere, ffor to be his wedded ffere, must wed her in that Land." [Part VI.] [How Eglamore won back his lost love Christabell, and married her.] Eglamore, many lords, and the King of Sattin, come to the tourney. Lists are prepared, and all the lords make ready. 96 Sir Eglamore was homward bowne, he hard tell of that great renowne, & thither wold hee wend. 2 great Lords that hard of that crye, 6- Parte <; they rode thither hastilye, as ffast as they might ffare. the King of Sattin 3 was there alsoe, & other great Lords many more 120 that royall armes 4 bare. Then ringes were made in the ffeeld that Lords might therin weld ; the bnsked & made them yare. 1124 S*r Eglamore, thoe he came Last, he was not worthy out to be cast ; that Knight was clothed in care. 1 For hur love we wylle tnrnay. — T. 2 By rhyme this triplet belongs to the last stanza. It is put there in the Thornton text, which adds after it the stanza about Eglamore' s arms, given, in an altered state, as st. 97 in our print below. — F. 3 " Sydon (Cotton M.)" marked in pencil on the margin of the MS. — F. Sydone.—T. 4 yoly colourys. — T. lJGL.UlOilE. 383 97 ffor that Christabell was put to the sea, 1128 new armes beareth liee, I will them descrye : he beareth in azure a shipp of gold, ffull richly e portrayed on the mold, [ pag e 311] 1132 ffull well & worthy lye ; the sea was made both grim & bold ; a younge child of a night old, & a woman Lying there by ; 1136 of siluer was the mast, of gold the ffane ' ; sayle, ropes, & cables, eche one painted were worthylye. Eglamore bears as arms, on a blue shield a gold ship, with a child, and a woman lying by it. 98 heralds of armes soone on hye, 1140 euery Lords armes gan descrye in that ffeeld soe broade. 2 then Chr[i]stabell as white as mower, she sate vpon a hye tower ; 3 1144 ffor her that crye was made. the younge knight of 15 yeere old that was both doughtye & bold, into the ffeeld he rode. 1148 who-soe that Sir Degrabell did smite, with his dint they ffell tyte, neuer a one his stroake abode. Christabell sits in a high tower : her son Degrabell rides into the field, and fells all who attacks him. 99 Sir Eglamore houed 4 & beheild 1152 how the folke in the feild downe feld they ls.nights all by-dcenc. Eglamore looks on. 1 Fane, a "Weather-cock, which turns about as the Wind changes, and shews from what Quarter it blows. Phillips. — F. - The three lines above are not in T. — F. 3 "Was broght to a corner of the walle.— T. 1 halted, stood still. The first three lines of this stanza are not in T. — F. 384 EGLAMOltE. DegrabeU him why he stands still. "Because I am come out of heathen lands. when DegrabeU him see, he rode him till, 1 & said, " Sir, why are you soe still 1156 amonge all these 'Knights keene ? ' Eglamore said to him I-wis, 2 " I am come out of heathenesse, itt were sinne mee to meete. 3 " 1160 DegrabeU said, " soe mote I thee ! more worshipp itt had beene to thee, vnarmed to haue beene." Haven't yon jousting enough ? 100 the ffather on the sonne Lough ; 1 164 " haue yee not lusting enoughe 4 where euer that you bee ? that day ffall haue I seene, wt'th as bigg men haue I beene, 1168 & yett well gone my way. & yett, fforsooth," said he then, ' ' I will doe as well as I can, w*'th you once to play." Theycharge. 1]72 heard together they k/<^/ clad in cloth of gold, and sits in the chief place with Christahell. She asks him why his arms are a ship. '• Because my lady and son were put to sea, and died." 104 1208 3 knowledge to him tooke shee thoe ; "now, good S/r, tell me soe, where they were brought to ground ? " [page 312] they buried ? -' In eortyls, sorcatys, and schorte clot Ins, That doghty weryn of dede. Two kyngys the deyse began, Syr Koylhnnowre and Crystyabelle than : Ihesu us alio spede! — T. - lemman and my yongest. — T. 8 T. omits the next six lines.— F 386 EGLAMOKE. " I was away. Her father sent her to sea tn drown." What is your name ? " Sir Egla- more of Artois." " while I was in ffarr count rye 1212 her ffather put her into the sea, w*'th the waues to confounde." wt'th honest mirth & game of him shee asked the name ; 1216 & he answered that stond, " men call mee, where I was bore, of Artoys S/r Eglamore, that with, a worme was wound." Christabcll swoons, then welcomes Eglamore, and tells what she has suffered. 1220 (People meet v\ hen they least expect it.) The King of Isarell tells how lie found Degrabell, 1224 105 in swooning ffell that Lady ffree ; " welcome, Sir Eglamore, to mee ! thy Loue I haue bought full deere ! " then shee sate, & told full soone how into the sea shee was doone ; then wept both lesse and more. 1 minstrills had their giffts ffree, wherby the might the better bee ; to spend they wold not spare. 2 {full true itt is, by god in heauen, that men meete att vnsett steven, 3 & soe itt beffell there. 100 1232 the King of Isarell gan tell how that hee found Sir Degrabell ; Lordings, Listen t^en : 4 1228 1 This gentle reminder to the hearers of their duty to the singers of the Ro- mance is repeated with some variation at the end. — F. 2 For the former part of this st. 105, T. has, st. cxi. p. 174: There was many a robe of palle; The cbylde servyd in the halle At the fyrste mete that day. Prevcly scho to hym spake, " 3ondur ys thy fadur that the gate ! " A grete yoye hyt was to see ay When he kuelyd downe on hys kne, Ther was mony an herte sore, Be God that dyed on a tree !• — F. 3 unfixed time, time not appointed. Compare Chaucer, in The Knightes Tale, 1. 666, v. ii. p. 47, ed. Morris : It is ful fair a man to bere him evene, For al day mcteih men atte unset stcvene. Ful litel woot Arcite of his felawe, That was so neih to herken of his sawe. — F. 4 Knyghfys lystonyd ther-to than. — T. EGLAM0I1E. 387 S/r Eglamore kneeled on his knee, 1236 " my Lord ! " he said, " god yeeld itt thee ! yee haue made him a May. 1 " the 'K.iiuj of Isarell said, " I will the[e] giue halfe my kindome while I doe liue, 1240 my deere sonne as white as swan." " thon shalt haue my daughter Arnada," the K.mg of Saftin sayd alsoe, " I remember, since thou her wan." and gives him half his kingdom. The King of Sattin also gives his daughter Arnada to Degrabell. 107 1244 2 Eglamore prayed the Kings 3 att his wedding ffor to bee, if that they wold vouch [s]afe. all granted him that there were, 1248 litle, lesse, & more; Lord Iesus christ them haue ! Kings, Erics, I vnde[r] stand, ■with, many dukes of other Lands, 1252 with Ioy & mirth enoughe. the trumpetts in the shipp blowes, that euery man to shipp goes, the winde them ouer blew. Eglamore invites every one in his wedding. All accept, sail off, 108 125G through gods might, all his mcany in good liking passed the sea ; in Artois they did arriue. the Erie then in the tower stoode, 1260 he saw men passe the mood, & ffast 3 to his horsse gan driue. and reach Artois safely. The "old Earl 1 man. — T. May generally means maiden; but mau-e, ma^e, is a kinsman ; A.-Sax. mag, a son, kinsman. — F. 2 T. shortens and alters this stanza and part of the next. — F. 3 ^o in printed copy, bni very differi ut in the Cotton MS — Pencil note in MS. 383 EGLAMOltE. falls out of his tower and breaks his neck, by a merciful providence. when he heard of Eglamore, he ffell out of his tower 1264 & broke his necke beline. the messenger went againe to tell of that case, how itt beffell : with god may no man striue. The Emperor is sent for, every one in the land is bidden to the Feast, and Egla- more weds Christabell, Degrabell weds Arnada. 109 1268 l thus in Artois the Lords the Lent; after the Emperour 2 soone the sent, to come to that Marry age ; in all they land they mad crye, 1272 who-soe wold come to that ffeast worthye, right welcome shold they bee ; Sir Eglamore to the church is gone, degrabell & Arnada they haue tane, 1276 and his Lady bright of blee. the Kmg of Isarell said, " He giue halfe my land while I Hue ; brooke well [all 3 ] after my day." The Feast lasts forty days, and then all the guests go home. 110 1280 w/th mickle mirth the feast was made, 40 dayes itt abode amonge all the Lorrfs hend ; and then forsooth, as I you say, 1284 euery man tooke his way wherin him liked to clAvell. [page 313] 1 T. alters these concluding stanzas a good deal. — F. 2 An Emperor was thought necessary to give the proper eclat to a wedding : Ther com tyl hir weddyng An emperoure and a kyng, Erchebyschopbz with ryng Mo then fyftene ! The mayster of hospitalle Come over with a cardinalle, The gret kyng of Portyngalle, With kny^thus ful kene. Sir Degrevant, p. 252-3, Thornton Eomances. — F. 3 all. p.c. — Pencil note. T. has not the line. Brooke is A.-S. brucan, to enjoy.— F. EGLAMOKE. 389 minstrells had good great plentye, that euer they better may the bee, 1288 and bolder ffor to spend. in Romans this Chronickle is. dere Iesns ! bring vs to thy blisse that lasteth without end ! l ffms. Minstrels get plenty of money. Christ bless us all ! 1 T. winds up with " Amen. Here endyth syr Egyllamowre of Artas, and Legyn- neth syr Tryamowre." — F. [" When Scortching Phoebus" 'printed in Lo. and Hum. Songs, l>p. 70-3, follows here in the MS.] 390 The following piece is here printed for the first time. Percy describes it as an old poem " in a wretched corrupt state, un- worthy the press." Selecting from it " such particulars as could be adopted," he composed himself a poem on the subject of it, — a poem in Two Parts, altogether some 400 lines long, beginning in this wise : When Flora 'gins to decke the fields With colours fresh and fine, The holy clerkes their mattins sing To good Saint Valentine ! &c. Is this style so very much worthier of the press than that of Within the Grecian land some time did dwell An Emperor, whose name did far excell, &c. ? We doubt whether either piece is particularly worthy of the press. But that which suited best the taste of the eighteenth century is certainly the less worthy of the two. That century could see the mote in the eye of a preceding age, but not the beam in its own eye. This piece is evidently of very late origin, written at a time when the period of professional ballad-makers had well set in. The story was, in prose, extremely popular. This prose ver- sion was a translation from the French. Of the old French romance an analysis is given in the Bibliotheque des Romans, which ranks it among Romans Historiques : * — 1 The Old song of Valentine & Ursin Chevaliers Valentin et Orson, fils de or Or sin. l'Empereur de Grece et neveux du tres- This song or Poem seems to be quite chretien Eoi de France Pepin, contenant modern by the Language & versificat/on. 74 chapitres, lesquels parlent de plusieurs N.B. This Poem only suggested the et diverses matieres tres-plaisantes et subject of that I printed on Valentine re'creatives. Lyon, 1495, in-folio, et and Ursin.— P. 1590 in-octavo, et depuis a Troyes, chez 2 Histoire des deux nobles et vaillans Oudot, in-quarto. THE EMPEROUK AND THE CHILDE. 391 Nous avons annonce dans notre avant-dernier volume que nous avions encore a parler d'un roman singulier et intercssant concernant Pepin, Roi de France, premier de la seconde race et pere do Charle- magne ; c'est celui dont on vient de lire le titre. II est bien constam- ment liistorique, quoique l'liistoire y soit defiguree ; que Pepin y voyage dans des pays dont il n'a jamais approche, tels que Constan- tinople et Jerusalem, qu'on l'y fasse prisonnier d'un Roi des Incles, ainsi que les douze pairs de France ; qu'on ajoute a cette pretendue captivite les circonstances les plus ridicules ; qu'on suppose a Pepin deux fils, une soeur et deux neveux, qui n'ont jamais existe ; enfin, quoique les commencements de l'liistoire de Charlemagne que Ton trouve dans ce roman-ci soient aussi eloignes de la verite que ce qui est dit du regne de Pepin, tout cela, cependant, se fait lire avec plaisir ; et nous croyons que nos lecteurs ne trouveront point trop long l'exti'ait tres-detaille que nous allons en faire, chapitre par chapitre, sans rien changer a sa marche, et respectant presque egalement le style, qui n'est pas si gaulois que celui des autres romans de che- valerie que nous avons extraits jusqu'a present, car celui-ci peut etre range dans la meme classe : on peut aussi, si Ton veut, le compter parmi les romans d'amour, car malgre les ridiculites dont il est rempli, la marche en est tres-reguliere. L'histoire des deux freres qui en font les heros y est conduite depuis l'instant de leur naissance jusqu'a leur mort ; tous deux sont amoureux et epousent enfin leurs maitresses. Rien ne nous prouve que ce roman soit fort ancien. Nous n'en connaissons aucuns manuscrits ; et ne pouvant parler d'apres nous-memes de la premiere edition (in- folio), qui est tres-rare, nous ne trouvons rien dans la seconde (qui est celle de 1590) qui porte une certaine marque d'anciennete, non-seulement dans le style, mais meme dans les details, et nous ne croyons pas qu'on puisse en faire remonter lY'poque plus haut que le regne de Charles VIII, temps oil beaucoup de romans de ce genre virent le jour, les uns etant tires de quelques manuscrits plus anciens, les autres etant tout a fait nouveaux. ~Ne poussons pas plus loin nos recherches et nos observations preliminaires sur Valentin et Orson, et commencons notre extrait en suppliant nos lecteurs d'avoir de l'indulgence pour la simplicity et la bonhomie avec lesquelles cet ouvrage a ete compose. On y trouvera bien des traits curieux et des situations tres-interessantes, meles avec mille circonstances ridicules. La singularite de tout cela pourra, du moins, amuser. L'auteur raconte, d'abord, en peu de mots, la touchante histoire de Berthe au grand pied, qui a fait la matiere d'un roman entier. 392 THE EMPEROUR AND THE CHILDE. dont nous avons donne l'extrait clans notre premier volume du mois dernier. II suppose seulement que les deux fils de Pepin et de la fausse Berth e vecurent, et se trouverent en etat, a la mort de Pepin, de com- battre le roi Charlemagne et de lui disputer la couronne ; que celui-ci, apres avoir ete chasse de son royaume par eux, y rentra, pourtant, et les vainquit a son tour. II suppose encore que Pepin avait une sceur nominee Beligrane ou Belissante, qu'elle epousa un Empereur de Constantinople nomme Alexandre, et c'est ici que commence le roman. As the matter of a chap-book, the story was very common both in France and in England. How it was generally treated will be shown by the following headings of chapters from the Histoire de Valentin et Orson, tres-nobles et tres-vaillants chevaliers, fds de l'Empereur de Grece et neveux du tres-vaillant et tres- chretien Pepin, Roi de France. Cap. I. — Comme le tres-noble roi Pepin epousa Berthe, dame de tres-grande renommee et prudence. Cap. II. — Comme l'Empereur fat train par l'Archeveque de Con- stantinople. Cap. III. — Comme l'Archeveque etant econduit de Bellisant pour son honneur sauver, machina grande trahison. Cap. TV. — Comme l'Archeveque se mit en habit de chevalier, et monta a cheval pour poursuivre la dame Bellisant, laquelle etait bannie. Cap. V. — Comme Bellisant enfanta deux enfants dans la foret d'Orleans, dont Fun fut appele Valentin et l'autre Orson, et comme elle les perdit. Cap. VI. — De l'ourse qui emporta de Bellisant parmi le bois. Cap. VII.- — Comme par le conseil de l'Archeveque furent elevees de nouvelles coutumes en la cite de Constantinople, et comme la trahison fut connue. Cap. VIII. — Comme l'Empereur Alexandre, par le conseil des sages, envoya querir le roi Pepin pour savoir la verite de la querelle du marchand et de l'Archeveque. Cap. IX. — Comment le marchand et l'Archeveque se combattirent au champ de bataille. Cap. X. — Comme le roi Pepin prit conge de l'Empereur et partit de Constantinople pour retourner en France, et comme apres il alia a Rome contre les Sarrasins qui la cite avaient prise. THE EMPEROUR AND THE CHILDE. 393 Cap. XI. — Comme Hauffroi et Henri eurent envie sur Valentin pour le grand amour que lui portait le roi. Cap. XII. — Comme Valentin conquit Orson son frere clans la foret d' Orleans. Cap. XIII. — Comme apres que Valentin eut conquis Orson, il partit de la foret pour retourner a Oileans vers le roi Pepin. Cap. XIV. — Comme Hauffroi et Henri, par envie, resolurent de tuer Valentin en la chambre de la belle Esglantine. Cap. XV. — Comme le due de Savary envoya vers le roi Pepin pour avoir aide contre le vert chevalier qui voulait avoir sa fille Pezonne pour epouse. Cap. XVI. — Comme plusieurs chevaliers vinrent en Aquitaine pour avoir la belle Fezonne. Cap. XVII. — Comme Hauffroi et Henri firent guetter Valentin et Orson sur le chemin pour le faire mourir. Cap. XVIII. — Comme le roi Pepin commanda que devant son palais fut appareille le champ pour voir Orson et Grigard combattre ensemble. ****** Cap. LVI. — Comme Valentin fit la penitence qui lui avait ete imjiosee pour expier le meurtre de son pere. Cap. LVII. — Comme le roi Hugon fit demander Escharmonde pour femme, et comme il trahit Orson et le vert cbevalier. Cap. LVIII. — Comme Bellisant et Escharmonde surent la trahison et fausse entreprise du roi Hugon. Cap. LIX. — Comme Orson et le vert chevalier furent delivres des prisons du roi de Syrie, et comme le roi Hugon, pour eviter la guerre, se soumit a eux. Cap. LX. — Comme, au bout de sept ans, Valentin, finit ses jours dans son palais de Constantinople, et ecrivit une lettre par laquelle il fut connu. VVHITHIN the Grecyan land some time did dwell a Greet Emperor an Emperour, whose name did ffar excell : oncemarried 1 a French he tooke to wiffe the Lady B[e]llefaunt, Sd'B&to- 4 the only sister to the Kinge of ffrance, fauut - •with whomo he liued in pleasure & delight They lived 1 ° . happily till vntill that ffortune came to worke them spiglit. VOL. II. d d 394 THE EMPEROUR AND THE CHILDE. a lustful Bishop tried to seduce the Empress, and on her refusal accused her falsely to the Emperor. The Emperor wouldn't hear her, but banished her at once ; and she started with one squire for France. On her way ffor within the court a bishoppe l there did rest, 8 the which the Emperour held in great request ; his enuious hart itt was soe sore enfflamed vpon the Empresse, thai gallant dame, 2 that he wold perswade her many 3 a wile 12 her husbands marriage bed for to defile, but shee denyed that vnchast request, as to her honor did beseeme her best ; which when the Bishopp saw, away he went 16 vntou the Emperour with a fell intent, & then most ffalselye her he did accuse, how that shee wold his marry age bed abuse ; & thervpon he swore the same to proue, 20 which made her husbands loue in wrath to proue. then the Emperour went to her with speed, ffor to accuse her of this shamefull deede. and when shee saw how shee was betrayd, 24 her inocency shee began to pleade ; but then her husband wold not heare her speake, which made her hart with sorrow like to breake ; but straight the Emperour he gaue command 28 that shee shold be banished 4 out of his land, but when that shee ffrom them did goe, before them all shee did reccount 5 her woe, & said that shee was banished wrongff ullye ; 32 & soe shee went with sorrow like to dye. now is shee gone, but with one Squier alone, vnto her brother in ffrqnce to make her Mone. And being come within the realme of ffrance, [page 3U 36 there beffell a very h'eauy chance ! ffor 6 as shee trauelled through a wild fforrest, the labor of Childhood did her sore oppresse, 1 An Archpriest, says the Story Book. —P. 2 That her he would persuade with. —P. 3 with many, qu. — P. 4 banish'd be.— P. 5 recount. — P. 6 all follows in the MS., marked out. — F. TIIE EiirEROUR AND THE CIIILDE. 395 & more & more her paines increased still 40 that shee was fforced to rest against her will. now att the lenght her trauell came to end, ffor the T-iord 2 children did her send, the which were fFaire & proper boyes indeed, 44 which made her hart with Ioy for to exceede. but now behold how ffortune gan to Lower, 1 & turned her Ioy to greefe within an hower ! ffor why, shee saw an vgly beare as then, 48 the 'which, was come fforthe of some lothesome den; & when the beare did see her in that place, he made towards her with an Egar pace, & ffrom her tooke one of her children small, 52 a sight to greeue the mothers hart wt'th-all. but when shee saw her child soe borne away, shee Laid the other downe, & did not stay, & ffollowed itt as ffast as euer shee might ; 56 but all in vaine ! of itt shee lost the sight, but soe itt chanced, att that verry tyde the K.ing of ffrance did there a hunting ryde ; & in the fforrest as he rode vp and downe, GO the other child he ffound vpon the ground. & when he saw the child to be soe faire, to take itt vp he bade his men take care, & keepe itt well as tho itt were his owne, C4 vntill the ffather of the child where 2 knowne. the Empresse returned there backe againe, when as shee saw the beare w/thin his den ; but when shee saw her other sonne was lost, GS her hart with sorrow then was like to burst, then downe shee sate her with a heauy hart, & wishes 3 death to ease her of her smart ; shee wrong her hands with many a sigh full deepe 72 that wold haue made a fflyntye hart to wcepe. she was taken in labour, and bore two boys. A bear carried off one of tin m. She laid the other down, and ran after the lost one, but couldn't find it. The King of France finds the boy laid down, and has him curried off. The Empress cornea back for him, but finds him gone. Her heart Ql :n I;. breaks. i lour.— P. 2 Wire. — P. d d 2 3 wish'd for. — P. 396 THE EMPEROUR AND THE CHILDE. She leaves the place, and goes to a castle for help. But a giant lives there and puts her in prison, but doesn't hui't her. The hoy the bear took grows up a huge wild man, who kills all that pass by his den. The other boy is christened Valentine, is knighted, and is valiant. Poor men complain of the Wild Man. 1 shown 2 The o in the MS. then shee departed from that woefull place, & ffortk of ffrance shee went away apace ; ffor why, as yett shee wold not there be knowen 76 vntill some newes of her young sonnes were shone. 1 but shee beheld a Castle ffaire & stronge, — 2 shee had not trauelled ffrom that place uot Long, — wheratt shee knocket, some succour for to find. 80 but itt ffell out contrary to her mind ; ffor why, w/th-in that castle dwelt as then a monstrous gyant, Seared of all men, who tooke this Ladye into his prison strong, 84 & there he kept her ffasfc in prison long. but when he saw her lookes to be soe sadd, & hauing knowen what sorrowes she had had, he kept her close, but he hurt her not ; 88 & soe shee liued in prison long, god wotte. the child the which the beare had borne away, amongst her younge ones was brought vp alway, & soe brought vp vntill att length as then 92 he there became a monstrous huge wild man, & [d] ay lye ranged about the fforrest wilde, & did destroy man, woman, beast and child, & all things else which, by his den did passe, 96 which to the country great annoyance was. the other child which they King 3 had ffound, 4 he christened was, & valentine was his name ; & when he grew to be of ripe yeeres, 100 he was beloued both of King and peeres ; in ffeates off armes he did himselfe advance, that none like him there cold be ffond in ffrance ; & ffor that same, the King did dub him Knight ; 104 he allwaies was soe vallyant in his fight, then to the court did many pore men come to show what hurt the wild man there had done ; P. a ml n are squeezed together - F. 3 the which the "King.- 4 tane ; qu. — P. THE EMPEROUR ^ND TnE CHILDE. 397 but when the Kmg did heare the moane they made, 1 108 he sent fforth men the monster to inuade ; but all in vaine ; ffor why, hee crusht them soe that none of them with- in his reach durst goe. Then valentine vnto the Kmg did sue [page 316] 1 12 that he might goe the Monster to subdue. then fforthe he went the Monster ffor to see, whom he saw come bearing a younge oke tree ; & when the wild man of him had a sight, 116 he went vnto him & cast him downe right. & when he saw his strenght cold not p?-evaile, he praid to god his purpose might not ffayle ; then a poinard presently he drew out, 120 & peirct his side, wherwith the blood gusht out. but when the wild man did behold his blood, he 2 quicklye brought him ffrom his ffuryous mood ; then ffrom the fforrest both together went 124 towards the Emperour, 3 & with ffull intent of [him] desired leaue by sea to sayle into an He that Lyeth in Portingall, wheras the hard 4 with-in a Castle was 128 a Ladye ffaire that kept a head of brasse, the w/]>e, heold, feol. The paper Cotton MS. comes next (ab. 1460 a.d.); third, the Ash- mole 61, on paper, written towards the end of the 15th century, says Mr. Coxe, containing 2200 lines more or less, and beginning " Ihesu Cryst ovvre Sauyowre"; then the Lambeth one, also on paper (? about 1480 a.d.), and lastly the Percy. The Cotton text is interesting on account of its changes of d and th 1 . which I suppose to be of Berkshire origin, — if one may judge from 1 The d is substituted for th in the de, thee, 1. 673. On the other hand, th following, among other instances: — ditr- is put for d, in wither, under, 1. 1039, stede, thirsted, 1. 1336; durste, thirst,!. 1. 1002, 1. 1191; thoghtyer, doughtier, 1343; clodtde, clothed, 1. 1407; yclodeth clothed, 1. 1776; dydyr, thither, 1. 1668 but thyder, 1. 2082 ; dare, there, 1. 1870 1. 1091 ; but dogkty, 1. 1578, and thovghty, 1. 1851; thier, deer, 1. 1133; ilurc, dearly, 1. 1158; thorcs, doors, E K I 412 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. Mr. Tom Hughes's books, — or some county near. 1 The infini- tive in y also shows that the text is Southern 2 : army, arm, 1. 2,16 ; justy, joust, 1. 909, 1. 951, but juste, 1. 1542 ; schewy, show, 1. 746 ; spendy, spend, 1. 986, &o. Grateful as I feel to M. Hippeau for his discovery and printing of the French text, I owe him a slight grudge for describing "l'auteur du Canterbury Tales'" as " le poetique traducteur de nos trouveres," and therefore note that his print of the Cotton MS. is full of those mistakes that "a remarkably intelligent foreigner" would naturally make, u for n, and n for u, &c. 3 ; to say nothing of other forms like pryue for ]?ryue, thrive; kepte for lepte, 1. 2039; be for he, 1. 1388; thogh tyer for thoghtyer, doughtier, 1. 1091 ; he for here, her, 1. 887 ; givych for swych, such, 1. 712 ; Sweyn for Eweyn, 1. 219 ; lymest, for lyme &, lime and, 1. 713. It may look rather spiteful to print these things, but editors are bound to consider the language they study rather than other editors' feelings ; and with the full conviction that I invite similar treatment for the French as well as the English texts I have edited and may edit, and that in all there are and will be mistakes, 4 I hold it best to point out the misreadings in Early English that come across me, for the sake of the language and 1. 1705; tho, do, 1. 531, &c, and in many zewy?' but never, ' Wull ye zewy up other places. I just copy the few that I thease zeam ? ' " — Barnes, p. 28. noted years ago on a blank leaf, when 3 deutes for dentes, 1. 1304; fou for reading part of M. Hippeau's edition. fon, foes, 1. 1530, 1. 1950; sauugh for 1 Probably Dorsetshire. I heard drow saun}, Fr. sans, without 1. 1860 [In bat for throw near Weymouth this autumn, felde saunj fayle. MS. leaf 55, back, and Mr. Barnes says in his Grammar col. 1, line 18. See the last lines of and Glossary of the Dorset Dialect, 1863, the pieces in note, p 413]; hau for han, p. 16, " Th of the English sometimes, have, 1. 1263; woueth for woneth, dwells, and mostly before r, becomes d, as drow 1. 657 ; gau for gan, did, 1. 343 ; descryne for throw. Conversely, th (8) is sub- for descryue, describe, 1. 1330, 1. 1428; stituted in Dorset for the English d, as honede for houede, halted, 1. 1562; Jce- blaZer, a bladder, kc&er, a ladder." Mr. . nere for keuere, recover, 1. 1983; lencde Hughes says he does not remember hear- for leuede, lived, 1. 2125. ing this th and d change in Berkshire. 4 Claude Platin's confession, " mon ig- ' l " In the Dorset the verb takes y only norancc, laqitclle n'est pas petite" (pago when it is absolute, and never with an 415 here), is the motto for many of us, accusative case. We may say, ' Can ye adding carelessness. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 413 its students. But to return from this digression ; the Lambeth MS. is in " The Wright's Chaste Wife " volume, and seems to be a later copy of a text like the Cotton. Some readings from it are given in the notes from Mr. Warwick King's transcript of it for the Early English Text Society. By way of exhibiting some of the differences of the five English texts, I put beside the first bit of the Lincoln's Inn fragment the passages corresponding to it in the other MSS., 1 and at the end of the Komance as 1 Lincoln's Inn MS. 150, Art. 1, faded, begins. ban sir libeus ran bar Manges scheld lay, Ami vp he con hit fange : fast he ran to him, And smot him wib mayn, And other gon asa[ile.] vnto beo day was dyme . . Bysyde beo water beo kynges heold bataile. Libeus was warryour wy3t, And 3af a strok of my3t bowu'3 gepoiiH [?] plate and maile, boru3 his schoklur bon, bat his ry3t arm anon feol in beo feld saunfaile. MS. Lambeth 306, leaf 94, back. Than lybeous ranne aw-waye There Mangis shelde laye, And vp he gan hit fange, And ran a-gayne to hym. With strokys sharpe and gryme Eyther other ganne assayle. Till the day was dyme, Vpon the watir brym By-twene hem was bataylle. Lybeous was wevrcouv wight, And smote a stroke of myght Throwe Iepowne, plate, and mayle, Thorowe the shulderbone, That his Right Anno A-none [leaf 95J Ffell in thefelde saunce fayle. Ash mole MS. Than lybeus ranne A-wey There magws scheld ley, And vp he gane it fonge ; And libeus numc to hym A^ene, [leaf 52*] And smote hym with meyne ; Aythere obat mangys scheld lay, And vp he gan hyt fonge, And Ran a-gayn to hym. rcol. 2] With strokes strout & grym To-gydere bey gowne a-sayle. Be-syde b«t ryuere brym, Tylle hyt derkede dym, Be-twene hem was batayle. Lybeauus was werroure wy3t, And smot a strok of my3t boru3 gypelle, plate, & may-lie, Forb with be scholdere bon, Mangys arm fylle of a-noon Iii-to be feld sauii3 fayle. Percy Folio, p. 337. then S?r Lybius rann away thither were Mangis sheild Lay ; & vp he can itt gett, & rail againe to him, with stroakes great and grim together they did assayle ; there beside the watter brimne till it vaxed wonderous drimn, betweene them lasted that battell. Sir Lybius was warryour wight, & smote a stroke of much might ; through hawberke, plate and maile, hee smote of by the shoulder bone his right arme soone and anon into the ffeild with-out ffaile. 61, leaf 52. The kny3htes held bateyle. Syre libeus was weryoure wyjht, And gauc strokes of my3ht Throujht plate and male, And throw his schulder bone, That hys pyght Arme Anone Fell in be feld \Wt//-outen feyle. 414 LIBIUS DISCOBIUS. printed here, p. 497, will be found the endings of the Lincoln's Inn, Cotton, Lambeth, and Ash mole tests, for further contrast with the language of the Percy folio. I have not had time to collate them throughout, and Mr. Brock, who began the collation with the Cotton MS., soon gave it up as involving too much time and trouble for an adequate result, the second volume of Kitson being easily accessible to all readers. Eitson says that this Romance was certainly printed before the year 1000, being mention'd by the name of " Libbius," in " Vertues common wealth : or The highway to honour," by Henry Crosse, publish'd in that year; and is even alluded to by Skelton, who dye'd in 1529 : And of sir Libius named Disconius A story similar to that which forms the principal subject of the present poem may be found in the "Voiage and travail e of sir John Maundeville " (London, 1725, 8vo. P. 28). It, likewise, by some means, has made its way into a pretendedly ancient Northhumbrian ballad intitle'd "The laidly worm of Spindleston-heugh," writen, in reality, by Robert Lambe, vicar of JSTorham, authour of The history of chess, &c, who had, however, hear'd some old stanzas, of which he avail'd himself, sung by a maid-servant. The remote original of all these storys was, probablely, much older than the time of Herodotus, by whom it is relateed (Urania). In French there was a prose translation of a Spanish romance mixing up a Charlemagnian hero with our Arthurian Gyngelayn, printed in 1530, which Brunet (ed. 1814) enters thus: Giglan (l'histoire de), fils de messire Gauvain, qui fut roi de Galles ; et de Geoffroy de Mayence, son compaignon : translate d'espaignol en francois par Claude Platin, Lyon, CI. Nourry, 1530, w-4. goth. fig. This is, says M. Hippeau, a fairly correct reproduction of the French Li Biaus Desconneus, " sauf quelques additions peu heureuses." His extract from Claude Platin's prologue is so pretty that I give it here : Pour eviter oysivete, mere et nourrice des vices, et aussi pour complaire a tous ceulx qui prennent plaisir a lire et a ouyr lire les livres des anciens, qui ont vescu si vertueusement en leur temps, LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 415 que la renomee en sera jusques a la fin du siecle, lesquelles ceuvres vertueuses doivent esmouvoir les cueurs des humains de les ensuyvir en vertus en haultz faitz, moi Frere Claude Platin, humble religieux de l'ordre monseigneur sainct Antlioine, ung jour, en une petite librairie ou j'estoye, trouvay un gros livre de parcliemin bien vieil, escript en rime espaignole, assez diflicile a entendre, auquel trouvay une petite hystoire laaqelle me sembla bien plaisante, qui parloit de deux nobles chevaliers qui furent du temps du noble roi Artus et des nobles chevaliers de la Table-Ronde. . . J'ay done voulu translater la dicte hystoire de cette rime espaignole, en prose francoyse, au moins mal que j'ay peu, selon mon petit entendement, a celle fin que plus facilement peust estre entendue de ceulx qui prendront plaisir a. la lire ou ouyr lire : ausquelz je prie que les faultes qui y seront trouvees, ils les vueillent corriger, et excuser mon ignorance, laquelle n'est pas petite ; et aussi de ne se arrester ausdictes faultes, mais s'il y a riens de bon, qu'ilz en facent leur prouffit. With what better commendation to the reader can I close this rambling Introduction, or leave him to study the poem of " The Fayre Unknown " ? 1 JESUS christ, Christen Kinge, 2 & his mother that sweete thing, 3 helpe them att their neede that will listen to my tale ! of a knight I will you tell, 4 a doughtye man of deede, Christ and Mary help my hearers ! I'll tell you 1 The Romance in the Cotton MS. Caligula A ii. begins thus : INCIPIT LYBEAUS DISCONIUS. ^[ Ihc.su cryst oure sauyoure, And hys modyr bat swete flowre, Helpe hem at here nede b«t harkenep of a co«querourc, Wys of wytte, & why3t werrour, And dou3ty man yn dede. Hys name was called Geynleyn ; Be-yete he was of syr Gaw< yn Be a forest syde. Of stoutere knyjt & profytable With artoure of be Rounde table, Ne herde ye neucr Rede. ^[ bys Gynleyn was fayrc of sy;t, Gentylle of body, of face bry3t, Alle bastard 3ef he were. Hys modyr kepte hym yn clos For douute of wykkede loos, As dou3ty chyld & dere. — F. 2 oure sauyoure. — C. s flowm— C. 4 brtt harkeneb of a co«queroure wys of wytte & why3t werrowr. — C. 416 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. of Cinglaine, bastard son of Sir Gawaine. 12 his name was cleped l Ginglaine ; gotten lie was of Sir Gawaine vnder a fforrest side ; a better 2 knight without ffable, 3 W/th Arthur att the round table, yee heard neuer of read. [page 318] His mother tried to prevent him seeing a knight, because he was savage. 1G 20 24 Gingglaine was ffaire & bright, 4 an hardy e man and a wight, 5 bastard thoe hee were. 6 his mother kept him with all her might, ffor he shold not of noe armed Knight haue a sight in noe mannere. but he was soe sauage, & lightlye wold doe outrage to his ffellowes in ffere. 6 his mother kept him close ffor dread 7 of wicked losse, as hend 8 child and deere. His mother called him Beaufise because he was handsome. One day ffor 9 hee was soe ffaire & wise, 10 his mother cleped him beufise, 11 & none other name ; 28 & himselfe was not soe wise 12 that hee asked not I-wis what hee hight 13 of his dame, soe itt beffell vpon a day 32 Gingglaine 14 went to play, 1 called.— C. 2 stoutere. — C. 3 & profitable. — C. 4 of syjt.— C. 5 Grentylle of body, of face bry3t. — C. "—•J From his to ffere omitted in C. — F. 7 douute. — C. 8 dou^ty. — C. 9 [And] for, i.e. because. — P. 10 And foiv? loue of hys fayre vyys. — O. 11 Beau- vise.— P. bewfis.— C. 12 was fulle nys. — C. 13 what he was called ; wh«t his Name was. See St. 11. — P. 14 To wode be.— C. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 417 wild deere to hunt ffor game ; & as he went ouer the Lay, he spyed a knight was stout & gay, 36 that soone he made ffull tame. 1 he sees a knight, kills him, then he did on 2 that K.nights weede, & himselfe therin yeede, 3 into that rich armoure ; 40 & when he had done that deede, to Glasenbury swithe 4 hee yeede, there Lay J&Jmg Arthur. & when be came into the hall 44 amonge the Lords and Ladyes all, he grett 5 them with honore, And said, " King Arthur, my Lord ! 6 suffer me to speake a word, 48 I pray you par amoure 7 : puts on his armour, goes to Glaston- bury, to King Arthur, and asks Arthur 52 56 8 " I am a child vncouthe ; come I am out of the south, & wold be made a knight. 14 yeere old I am, & of warre well I cann, therfore grant me my right." then said Arthur the King strong to the child that was soe younge, 9 to knight him, as he's fourteen, and can fight. Arthur The Cotton MS. reads : He fond a kny3t, whare he lay, In armes \>at were stout & gay, I-sclayne & made fulle tame. — F. b«t chyld dede of. — C. And anon he gan hym sehrede. — C. prompte, Jun. — P. did greet. — P. Mais cil li dist : " Ains m'escoutes. Artu, venus sui a ta cort; Car n'i faura, comment qu'il cort, Del primier don que je querrai : Aurai-le je, u le j' faurai ? Donne-le moi et n'i penser Tant esprendre ; ne 1' dois veer." " Je le vos dons: ce dist li rois." LeBel Inconnu, 1. 82-9, p. 4. 7 par-amour, or perhaps pour amour ; it is not here a compound word, signi- fying Mistress ; but is a Phrase equiva- lent to that [in] St. 14, lin. 3. — P. 8 This stanza is omitted in C. The Lambeth MS. 306 has it.— F. 9 A-noon witAoute any dwellyng. — C. 418 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. asks him his name. Ginglaine says he doesn't know, but his mother calls him Beaufise. Arthur says " by God it's odd you don't know your own name ! " tell me what tliou liiglit ] ; for neuer sithe I was borne sawe I neuer lieere beforne 2 CO noe child soe ffaire of sight." the child said, " by St. lame, 3 I wott not 4 what is my name ! I am the more vnwise 5 ; 04 but when I dwelled att home, 6 my mother in her game cleped mee beaufise." then said 7 Arthur the K.ing, 68 & said, "this is a wonderous thing, by god & by S l Denise, that thou wold be a Knight, & wott nott what thou hight, 72 & art soe ffaire and wise 8 ! I'll give you one that j'our mother never called you, and that is Lybius Disconius " (the fair unknown, or handsome stranger). " now I will giue thee a name heere amonge all you in-same ; for thou art soe ffaire and free, — 76 I say, by god & by S, lame, soe cleped thee neuer thy dame, what woman that euer shee bee ;— call yee him all thius, 9 80 Lybius Disconius 10 ; ffor the loue of mee looke yee call him this name ; both in ernest & in game, 84 certes, soe hight shall hee. 11 " byn name aply3t. — C. Ne fond y me be-fore. — C. Cil li respont : "Certes ne sai, Mais que tant dire vos en sai, Que bidfil m'apieloit ma mere ; Ne je ne sai se je oi pere." Le Bel Inconnu, 1. 115-18, p. 5. I not.— C. 5 nys.— C liame, idem. — 3?. 7 spake. — F. fayrcofvys. — C. 9 thus.— P. 10 lybeau desconus. — C. The French has, p. fi : " Et por ce qu'il ne se connuist, Li Biaus Desconneus ait non ! Si l'nommeront tot mi baron." Le beaux Desconus, i.e. the fair un- known. — P. 11 )?an may ye wete a rowe J3e fayre vnknowe Sertes so hatte he. — C. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 419 'King Arthur anon-right wtth a sword ffaire & bright, 1 truly e that same day 88 dubbed that Child a knight, 2 And gaue him armes bright 3 ; fforsooth as I you say, hee gaue to him in that ilke 92 a rich sheeld all ouer gilte with a griffon soe gay, 4 & tooke him to Sir Gawaine 5 fFor to teach him on the plaine 96 of euery princes 6 play. 7 Then Arthur knights Lybius. [page 319] gives him arms and a shield, and asks Gawaine to teach him. when hee was made a knight, of the boone 8 he asked right, 9 & said, " my Lord soe ffree, 100 in my hart I wold be glad the ffirst battell if I had that men asked of thee." then said Arthur the King, 104 "I grant thee thine askinge, whatt battell that euer itt bee ; but euer methinke thou art to young ffor to doe a good 10 flighting, 108 by ought that I can see. Lybius asks Arthur to let him have the first fight that turns up. Arthur grants this, but thinks he's too young to fight well. when he had him thus told, Dukes, Erles, and Barons bold, 11 1 Made hym bo a kny3t. — C. 2 And yaf hym amies bry3t. — C. 3 Hym gertte wit/* swerde of my3t. -C. 4 gryffbun of say. — C. s And hym be-tok hys fadyr gaweyn. -C. G ecke kny3tes. — C. 7 An a seems to have been blotted out after tke y in the MS. — F. 8 Other boone, or another boone, or One other D°. — P. * Anon a bone \>cr he bad. — C. 10 thing, which follows, has been marked out in the MS. — F. 11 With oute more resoun Duk, Erl & baroun.— C. 420 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. Then all dine off wild fowl and venison. Soon come in hot haste a damsel and a dwarf. Her name is Hellen ; she brings a message from a lady, and is clad in green. washed & went to meate ; 112 of wild ffoule l and venison, 2 as lords of great renowne, inouglie they had to eate. they had not sitten not a stonre, 116 well the space of halfe an hower, talking att their meate, 3 there came a damsell att that tyde, 4 & a dwarffe 5 by her side, 120 all sweating 6 ffor heate ; the Maidens name was Hellen ; sent shee was vnto the King, 7 a Ladyes messenger. 124 the maiden was ware & wise, & cold doe her message att device, 8 shee was not to ffere 9 ; the maid was ffaire & sheene, 128 shee was cladd all in greene 10 ; & ffurred n with Blanndemere 12 ; 1 take y? heddes of [ = off] all felde byrdes and wood byrdes, as fesande, pe- cocke, partryche, woodcocke, and curlewe, for they ete in theyrdegrees foule thynges, as wormes, todes, and other suehe. Hoke of Keruynge in Babees Book &c, E. E. T. Soc. p. 279. See the capital bit about venison from Andrew Borde, ib. p. 210-11.— F. 2 Of alle manere fusoun. — C. 3 Ne hadde artoure bote a whyle be mouHtaunce of a myle At hys table y-sete. — C. 4 a mayde Ryde. — C. 5 dwerk.— C. 6 be-swette. — C. ' Gentylle bry3t & schene. — C. 8 i.e. Will, Pleasure. See Chaut Gloss.— P. 9 \>er nas coratesse ne quene So semelyche on to sene tflt my3te be here pere. — C. 10 Sche was clodefj in tars How me & nodyng skars. — C. 11 pelured. — C. 12 Blannchmer, a kind of fur. He ware a cyrcote that was grene ; With blaunchmer it was furred, I wene. SyrDegore, 701 in Halliwell's Glossary. This word comes in so oddly that I could almost be tempted to think that Chaucer in his burlesque Romance of Sir Thopas might allude to it sportively, as thus : Sir Libeaux and the* Blaundemere ScilJ the Blaundemere Purr mentioned in his Romance &c. But after all per- haps this construction is too forced. N.B. It might be the other Version w/iich Chaucer alludes to. See Chaucer's Rhyme of Sir Thopas, where this word seems to be mistaken, viz. : Men speken of Romaunces of Pris, Of Hornechild and of Ipotis Of Bevis & Sir Gie Of Sir Libeaux and Blaindamoure But Sir Thopas bereth the flowre Of rich Chivalrie.— P. * (or his) LIBIUS 1) I SCON I US. 421 her saddle was ouergiltc, & well bordered with silke, 1 132 & white 2 was her distere. 3 the dwarfe was cladd w/th scarlet t ffinc, & ffured well with good 4 Ermme ; 5 stout he was & keene 6 ; 136 amonge all christen kind such another might no man find 7 ; his cercott 8 was of greene 9 ; his haire was yellow as fliower on mold, 10 140 to his girdle hang n shining as gold, 12 the sooth to tell in veretye ; all 13 his shoone with gold were dight, all as gay as any u knight, 144 there sseemed no pouertye. The dwarf wears scarlet, is stout, has long yellow hair, Teddelyne was his name, 15 wide sprang of him the fame, 16 East, west, North & south ; 148 much he cold of game & glee, is named Teddelyne, 1 Here sadelle & here brydelle yn fere Fulle of dyamandys were. — C. The author of the French Romance gives a fuller description of Maid Hellen, or He/ie as he calls her. Doubtless it is his own love, for whom he composed the Romance, whom he sketches. Gente de cors et de vis biele : Dun samit estoit bien vestue ; Si biele riens ne fu veiie. Face ot blance com flors d'este, Come rose ot vis colore, Le iouls ot vairs, bouce riant, Les mains blances, cors avenant ; Bel cief avoit, si estoit blonde : N'ot phis biel cief feme del monde ! En son cief ot un cerclo d'or ; Ses perles valent un tresor Sor un palefroi cevaucoit. (p. 6.) — F. 2 Melk.— C. 3 apud Chauc. Destrcr, a War-horse, or Led Horse. Vid. Gloss. — P. 4 One stroke too few in this word in the MS.— F. 5 be dwerke was elodeb- yn ynde Be-fore & ek be-hynde. — C. 6 pert.— C. 7 fimd in the MS.— F. 8 Surcoat — A gown & hood the same, an upper coat, Ch. Gloss. — P. 9 was ouert. — C. 10 as ony wax. — C. — F. 11 hung.— P. » 13 als, also.— P. 14 And kopeb as a.- 15 The French Romance doesn't name him till he and Hellen leave the court, and it calls him Tidogolains, 1. 256, p. 10.— F. Teandelayn.— C. 16 MS. same.— F. fame.— P. welle swyde sprung hys name. — C. Not in the French, henge J?c plex. — C. -C. 422 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. is a pood fiddler, minstrel and jester a jolly man with ladies. ffiddle, crowde, 1 and sowtrye, he was a merry man of month 2 ; harpe, ribble 3 & sautrye, 152 he cold mnch of Minstrelsye, he was a good Iestoure, there was none snch in noe country ; a lolly man fforsooth was hee 156 with Ladyes in their bower. Hellen gives Arthur her message : 160 then he bade maid Hellen ffor to tell her tale by-deene, & kneele before the King, the maid kneeled in the hall among the Lords & Ladyes all, & said, " my Lord ! without Leasing her lady, of Sinadone, is in distress, and begs for a knight to fight for her. Lybius at once " There is a strong case toward ; ] 64 there [is] none such, nor soe hard, nor of soe much dolour. my 4 Lady of Sinadone is brought to strong prison, 168 that was of great valoure ; shee prayes you of 5 a Knight ffor to win her in flight with ioy & much honor." 6 172 vp rose that younge Knight, [page 320] 1 A kind of fiddle.— F. 2 Myche he coube of game, vrith sytole sautyre yn same harpe fydele & croupe. — C. 3 There is none of this in the French. — F. Al can they play on gitterne and rubible. Cook's Tale. The giterne was a small guitar, and the ribible a small fiddle played by a bow, and not by hand as the giterne was. Jerome of Moravia says of the ribble, Eibible, or Ribibe : — " Est autem rubeba musicum instru- mentnm habens solum duas cordas sono distantes a se per diapente, quod quidem, sicut et viella, cum arcu tangitur." — W. C. ribble, a fiddle or guitteru, Gl. Ch. — P. 4 MS. ny.— F. 5 of you. — P. 6 The French adds some lines about the kiss, on which so much turns at the end: " Certes moult auroit grant honnor Icil qui de mal l'estordroit, Et qui le Fieb Batsier feroit. Mais pros que il li a mestier ! Onques n'ot tel a chevalier. Ja mauvais horn lo don ne quiere ; Tot en giroit en vers en biere ! " (p. 8.) LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 423 in his hart he was ffull light, & said, " my Lord Arthur, " my couenant is to haue that fight 176 ffor to winne that Lady bright, if thou be true of word." the King said without othe, " thereof thou saiest soothe, 180 thereto I beare record ; claims the light. Arthur assigns it to him. "god thee giue strenght & might ffor to winne that Ladye bright with sheeld & with, speare dint ! " 184 then began the maid to say, & said, " alas that ilke day that I was hither sent ! " shee said, " this word will spring wyde ; 188 Sir King, lost is all thy pride, and all thy deeds is shent, 1 when thou sendest a child that is wittlesse & wild, 192 to deale dough tilie with dint ! thou hast K.nights of mickle maine, Sir Perciuall & Sir Gawaine, ffull wise in Turnament." 196 tho 2 the dwarffe with great error 3 went vnto King Arthur, & said, " Sir ! verament Maid Hellen grumbles, and says it's a disgrace to Arthur to send a witless child to fight, when he has knights like Gawaine &c. Dwarf Teddelyne " this child to be a warryour, 200 or to doe such a Labor, itt is not worth one ffarthing ! or 4 hee that Ladye may see, hee shall haue battells 5 or three 204 truly e without any Leasinge ; 1 are shent, i. e. disgraced. 2 then.— P. 3 Errour course, running. 4 i.e. before. — P. says the chihl isn't worth a farthing. He'll have to tight five battles before reaching Sinadone ; Halliwell.— F. 424 LIMITS DISCONIUS. the first at the Bridge of Tcrils. Lybius fays he's not afraid; he can fight, and will never give in : such is Arthur's law. Hellen sneers at Lybius, and Tedde- lyne tells him to go and suck his mammy. Arthur says " By God you shall have nobody else." " att the bridge of pcrill beside the aduentnrous chappell, there is the fiirst beginiag." 208 Sir Lybius anon answered & said, " I was neuer affeard ffor no mans threatninge ! " somewhat hane I lerd x 212 ffor to play with a swerd there men hath beene slowe. 2 the man that ffleethe ffor a threat other 3 by way or by streete, 216 I wold he were to- draw. I will the battell vndertake ; I ne will neuer fforsake, ffor such is Arthurs La we." 220 the made 4 answered alsoe snell, 5 & said, " that beseemetb thee well ! who-soe looketh on thee may know " thou ne durst for thy berde 224 abyid 6 the wind of my 7 swerde, by ought that I can see ! " then said that dwarffe in that stond, " dead men that lyen on the ground, 228 of thee affrayd may bee ; but betweene ernest & game, I counsell thee goe souke 8 thy dame, & Avinne there the degree."' 232 the K///;/ answered anon-right, and said, " thou gettest noe other Knight, by god that s'tteth in Trinytye ! 1 lered, i.e. learned, see Ch. Gl. — P. 2 "Where — have heen slaw, Qu. — P. 3 i.e. either. So they still speak in Shropshire. — P. Or is the contraction of other. — F. 4 The Maid.— P. s snel, i.e. presently, immediately. see Gl. ad Ch. — P. Al soe is alsoe in MS.— F. 6 abyde.— P. 7 perhaps any : or perhaps she tatuits him, as not a Match for a Woman. — P. 8 souke, i.e. suck, Chauc. — P. LiBroa DI8C0NIUS. 425 If thou thinke he bee not wight, 23C Goe J and gett thee another Knight [pag< that is of more power." the maid ffor ire still did thinke, 2 shee wold neither eate nor d[r]inke 240 ffor all that there were ; shee sate still, without ffable, till they had mcouered the table, she and the dwarffe in ffere. 244 K.mg Arthur in that stond comanded of the table round, 4 knights in ffere, of the best that might be found 243 in armes hole 3 & sound, to arme that child ffull right ; & said " through the mi "hit o Christ that in fflome 4 Iordan was baptiste, 252 he shold doe that he hight, 5 & become a Champyon to the Lady of Sinadon, & ffell her ffoemen in flight." 256 to arme him they were ffaine, G Sir Perciuall & Sir Gawaine, & arrayed him like a knight ; Hell en gets eat or drink anything, nor will the dwarf. Arthur orders his four best knights to arm Lybius, a- hell do what he says, and be the Lady of Sinadone's champion. Lybius is armed by Percival, Gawaine, the 3? was Sir Agrauaine, 7 260 & the 4P> was Sir Ewaine, 8 Agravaine, and Ewaine ; 1 The MS. curl to the G is like to.— F. 2 The French Romance makes her leave the court at once in disgust, and Lybius ride after her and overtake her, p. lo, ll.— F. 3 whole. — P. 4 i.e. River; Ital. flume. — P. 5 i.e. promised, engaged. — P. '• glad.— P. 7 Sue the note on him in vol. i. p. 145, — V. " Ewaine or Uwayn was the son of Arthur's sister, Morgan le Fay, and had TOL. ii. a had opinion of his mother: " ' A,' sayd syr Uwayn, 'men saitli that Merlyn was of a deuylle, but I may save an erthely deuylle bare me.'" This was when he stopt " my lady" his " m from killing "the kynge" Vryens, his " fader, slepynge in his bed."' ( Maleor, i. p. 107. The Cotton MS. has : The byrpi was syr Eweyn, [Oweyn, below] The ferule was syr agrrafrayn, y]< pe Fren3S(£« talo. — F. F F 426 LIBIUS DISCONIOS. is clad in silk, 264 them right ffor to behold, they cast on him right good silke, a sercote as white as any l milke that was worth 20. of golde ; and lias a hauberk. G-awaine gives him a shield and helm. Percival puts on his crown ; Agravaine brings him a spear, and Ewaine a steed. Lybius mounts, asks alsoe an hawberke ffaire & bright, w7w'ch was ffull richelye dight with nayles good and ffine. 268 Str Gawaine, his owne ffather, hange about his necke there a sheeld with a griffon, 2 & a helme that was ffull rich, 272 in all the Land there was none such. Sir Perciuall sett on his crowne, Sir Agrauaine brought him a speare that was good euery where 276 & of a ffell ffashion. Sir Ewaine brought him a steade that was good in euery neede, & as ffeirce as any Lyon. 3 280 Sir Lybyus on his steede gan springe, & rode fforth vnto the King, & said, " Lord of renowne ! Arthur's blessing ; Arthur gives it him, and hopes God " giue me jour blessinge 284 without any Letting ! my will is fforth me to wend." the ~K:lng his hand vpp did lifft, & his blessing to him gaue right 288 as a ~K.night curteour 4 & hende, & said, " god that is of might, & his mother Marry bright, 1 One stroke too few in the MS.— F. 2 griffyne, qu. — P. 3 The French Romance only makes G-awain order Lybius's armour to be brought, and Gawain give him a squire "Robers: moult esteit sages et apers," p. 11.— F. 4 1 for curteous. — F. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 42 7 that is fflowre of all women, 292 giue thee gracce ffor to gone ffor to gett the ouerhancl of thy fone, & speed thee in thy iourney ! Amen ! will grant him grace to conquer bis foes. 296 [The Second Part.] S/r Lybius now ricleth on his way, & soe did that ffaire may, the dwarffe alsoe rode them beside, till itt beffell vpon the 3? day 2'! parte. <( vpon the Knight all the way ffast they gan to chide, & said, "Lorell 1 and Caitiue ! tho thow were snch ffine, Lost is all thy pride ! This way keepeth a Knight that With enery man will flight, his name springeth wyde ; 300 304 Lybius starts with Hell en and tlie dwarf. They begin abusing him, and say that a knight near, "his name is William, de la Brannche, 2 308 his warres may noe man stannche, 3 he is a warryour of great pride ; Both through hart & hanch swithe 4 hee will thee Launche, 312 all that to him rides." 5 then said Sir Lybins, " I will not Lett this nor thus to play with him a flitt ! 316 flbr any thing that may betide, I will against him ryde to looke if that he can sitt ! " [page 322] Sir William de la Brannche, will soon spear him through. Lybiu whatever happens he'll ride at him. 1 Lewd base fellow, Homo perditus. Lye.— P. 2 Wylloam Celebronche (leaf 44 b.) here, and wylleam selebraunche, 1. 342, (leaf 45, col. 1) Cotton MS.— F. 3 stop, stay, resist. — P. 4 soon. — P. 5 and all that — ride, qu. — P. ff 2 428 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. Near the Adventurous Chapel they see a knight on the Bridge of Peril, well armed. the rode on then all 3 : 320 vpon a ffaire Causye. beside the adnenturons chappell ' a knight anon they can see with armes bright of blee, 324 vpon the bridge 2 of perrill. he bare a sheeld all of greene with 3 Lyons of gold sheene, right rich and precyous. 328 well armed 3 was that K.night as he shold goe to night, as itt was his vse. 4 The knight tells Lvbius lie must fight or leave his harness there. Lybius begs leave to pass. when he saw Sir Lybius with sight, 332 anon he went to him arright, & said to him there, " who passeth here by day or night, certer 5 with me must night, 336 or leaue his harnesse here." then answered Sir Libyus & said, " ffor the lone of Iesus lett vs passe now here ! 340 wee be ffarr ffroe our ffreind, & haue ffarr ffor to wend, T and this mayden in fere. 6 " Sir William refuses, and says he must fight him. Sir William answered thoe 344 & said, " thou shalt not scape soe soe god giue me good rest, thow & I will, or wee goe, deale stroakes betweene vs tow 348 a litle here by west." 1 Kyght to chapell Auntours. — Lam- beth MS. Be a castelle aunterous. — C. 2 Fr. le Gite Perilleus. — F. Poynt pervious. — Lambeth MS. vale perylous. — C. 3 arned in the MS.— F. The French adds, p. 13, 1. 330-3 : Maint chevalier font trouve dure, Que il avoit ocis al gue ; Moult etoit plains de cruaute, Blioblieris avoit non. certes. — P. 6 together. — P. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. Sir Libyus sayd, " now I see that itt will none other bee ; goe fforth and doe thy best ; 352 take thy course with thy shafft if thou can l well thy crafft, ffor I ame here all prest. 2 " then noe longer they wold abyde, 356 but the one to the other gan ryde with greatt randaun. 3 S^'r Libyus there in 4 that tyde smote Sir william on his side 360 with a speare ffelon 5 ; but Sir william sate soe ffast that his stirropps all to-brast, he leaned on his arsowne ; 364 Sir Lybius made him stoupe, he smote him over the horse croupe in the ffeeld a-downe ; his horsse ran from him away. 368 Sir william not long Lay, but start anon vpright, and said, " Sir, by my- in ffay, neuer beffore this day 372 I ffound none soe wight ! now is my horsse gone away ! flight on [foot], 6 I thee pray, as thou art a Knight worthye." 376 then sayd Sir Lybius, " by the leaue of Sweete Iesus therto S'ull ready I am. 7 ' 429 Lybius says Charge away ! They charge ; Lybius hits Sir William on the side, drives him over his saddle-back, and grounds him. Sir William starts up and asks Lybius to fight on foot. 1 con.— P. 2 i.e. ready. — P. 3 Ap? G. Doug, randoun. The swift Course, Flight or Motion of any thing. Fr. randon, idem. Gl. G.D. — P. 4 MS. therein.— F. 5 f el, felon, Jeloun, wicked, also cruel, fierce. Gl. Chauc— P. 6 on [foot] I &c— P. a fote.— C. on fote. — Lam. 7 am I.— P. 430 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. They do so till the fire flies from their helms. Sir William cuts off a corner of Lybins's shield. Lybius exits off the coif and crest of Sir William's helm, and his beard. Sir William's sword breaks in two : he prays for his life. then together they went as tyte, 1 380 & with their swords they gan smite ; they ffbught wonderous Longe ; stroakes together they lett fflinge that they flyer oat gan springe 384 from of their helmes strong, but Sir wilh'am de 2 la braunche to Sir Lybius gan he launche, & smote on his sheild soe Sast 388 that one cantell 3 flell to the ground ; & Sir Lybins att that sonde 4 in his hart was agast. then Sir Lybins with all his might 392 defended him anon-right, was 5 warryour wight & slye ; coyfe G & crest downe right, he made to ffly with great might, 396 of Sir Williams helme on hye ; 6 with the point of his sword he cut of Sir williams berd, and touched him flull nye. 400 Sir William smote Sir Lybius thoe 7 as that his sword brast in tow 8 ^7iat many men might see with eye. then Sir Will iam began to crye 404 & sayd, " flbr the Loue of Marrye, on liue let mee weelde ! itt were great villanye flbr to make a Knight dye 408 weponlesse in the feeld." [page 323] 1 quickly. — F. 2 MS. do.— F. 3 cantle, a Piece, a part. Gl. Ch. 4 Perhaps stounde, time, moment, space. — P. Sonde is message. — F. D as, qu. — P. as. — C. and L. 6 coif-de-fer, the hood of mail worn by knights in the twelfth century. Fair- holt. The second seal of Henry I. re- presents him without a helmet, the cowl of mail being drawn over a steel cap called a coif-de-fer in contradistinction to the chapelle-de-fer worn over the mail. Planche, i. 94.— F. 7 That his, &c— P. 8 As men, &c. — P. LIBIUS DISCOMUS. 431 412 then spake Sir Lybius & sayd, " by the leaue of Iesus ! of lifie gettest thou no space l but if thou wilt sweare anon, or thou out of the ffellcl gone, here before my fface, Lybius frrants it him on condition " & on knees kneele downe, 41G & swere by my sword browne that thou shalt to Arthur wend, & say, ' Lord of great renowne ! I am in battell ouerthrowne ; 420 a knight me hither doth send tbat men cleped thus, Sir Lybius Disconius, vnknowen knight and hend.' ' 424 Sir wilh'am mett 2 him on his knee ; & the othe there made hee, & fforward gan he wend. that he swears to go to Arthur and say that Lybius sends him. Sir William swears, thus depaHed all the rout. 428 Sir wilh'om to Arthurs court he tooke the ready way ; 3 a sorry case there gan ffall: 3 knights 4 proude and tall 432 Sir wilh'am mett that day; the 3 Knights all in ffere where his ernes 5 sonnes deere, stout they were and gay. and starts for Arthur's court. His three cousins meet him, 1 For the next stanza and a half, the French has, p. 18 : " Ens a la cort Artu le roi, A lui en ires de par moi." 2 ? sett.— F. 3 The French Romance sends him home •wounded, puts him to bed, and thoro he sees the three knights. — F. 4 The French makes them only his " compaignons," and him their " signor." Their names are : Elius li blans, sires des Aies, Et li bons chevaliers de Graies Et Willaume de Salebrant. 5 erne, Uncle. See Jun. eame. See Gl. ad Chaue. &c. — P. A.-Sax. earn, uncle. — F. 432 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. and ask him who has wounded hirn. " Sir Lybius Disconius, and he has made me swear not to stop till I get to Arthur's court, and never to bear arms against him." His cousins promise to avenge him : Lybius isn't worth a flea; 436 when they saw So* willwm bleed, & alway hanged downe his head, they rode to him with great array, & sr id, " Cozen will ! 440 who hath done to yon this shame ? & why bleedest thon soe long ? " hee said, " Sirs, by St. lame ! one that is not to blame ; 444 a stont 'Knight & a stronge — Sir Lybius disconius hee hight — to ffell his enemyes in flight ; he is not flarr to Learne ; 448 a dwarfe rydeth with him in fere as he was his Squier ; they ride away flull yarne. 1 " but one thing greeueth me sore, 452 that he hath made me sweare on his sord soe bright, that I shold neuer more, till I come to King Arthur, 456 Stint by day nor night ; and alsoe to him I ame yeelde as ouercome into the ffeelde by power of his might ; 460 nor against him ffor to beare neither sheeld nor speare ; thus I haue him hight." then said the Knights 3 : 464 " well auenged shalt thou bee certes without ffayle ! ffor hee one against vs 3, hee is not worthe a fflee 468 ffor to hold battell 2 ! [page 324] 1 yerne, inter al. nimble, Ch. Gl. — P. 2 battayle.— P. LIBIUS DISCONIUfc>. 433 472 goe fforth & keepe thine othe though th oil be neuer soe wroth; wee will him assayle. or he this fforrest passe, wee will his armour vnlace, tho itt were double maile." they'll soon unlace his armour. theroff wist nothing that wight 476 Sir Lybius, that gentle Knight, but rode a well good pace ; he & that maiden bright made together that night 480 game & great solace, shee cryed him mercye ffor shee had spoken him villanye ; shee prayed him to fforgiue her that tyde ; 484 the dwarffe was their squier, & serued them both in ffere off all that they had need. Lybius rides on with Hellen. She begs his pardon for having abused him. on the morrow when itt was day, 488 fforthe the rode on their way towards Sinadowne. then they say x in their way 3 tonights stout and gay 492 came ryding ffrom Caerleon ; to him they sayd anon-right, 2 " Traitor, turne againe and flight ! thou shalt lose thy renowne ! 496 & that maide ffaire & bright, wee will her lead att night her by vnto a towne." Next day the three cousins meet Lybius, and call on him to fight. 1 saw.— P. ? Perhaps tho MS. lias a w made over the y, or an e after it. — F. 2 The French puts the fight with these three knights (p. 34) after that with the two giants (p. 23).— F. 434 LIEIUS DISCONIUS Lybius is ready, charges the eldest, Sir Baner, and breaks his thigh in two. Dwarf Teddelyne rides Bauer's horse to Hellen, and she says Lybius is a good champion. Sir Lybius to them gan crye, 500 " ffor to ffiglit I am all ready e against you all in-same. 1 ' : a 2 prince proude of pride, lie rode against them that tyde 504 with mirth sport and game, the Eldest brother then beere to Sir Lybius with a Spere, Sir Baner was his name. 3 508 Sir Lybius rode att him anon & brake in tow his thigh bone, & lett him Lye there lame. 4 the Knight mercy gan crye 512 when Sir Lybius certainely had smitten him downe. the dwarffe that hight Teodline tooke his horsse by the raine, 516 he lept into the arsoone 5 ; he rode anon with that vnto the mayd where shee sate soe ffayre of ffashyon. 520 then laughed that Maiden bright, & said, " fforssooth this young Knight is a ffull good Champyon ! " 1 i. e. all together ; it seems a contrac- tion of the Fr. ensemble. See G.D. Gl. alsame, sub. verb, same.- — P. 2 As, q. — Pencil note. 3 "Willaumes vint a lui premiers, 1. 1052, p. 38. The French Eom. remarks on the knights attacking singly, in the good old times, as contrasted with the cowardice of the then modern ones : Et a eel tens, costume estoit Que quant i hom se combatoit, N'avait garde que de celui Qui faisoit la bataille a lui. Or va li tens en febloiant Et eis usages decaans, Que XX et V en prendent un ! Cis afnires est si commun Que tuit le tienent desormes ; La force fait le plus adies, Tos est mues en autre guise, Mais dont estoit fois et francise, Pities, proesse et cortoisie, Et largesse sans vilonnie. Or fait cascuns tot son pooir, Tos entendent au decevoir. (p. 38.) 4 The French makes Lybius kill Willaume (or Sir Baner) : Mort le trebuce del ceval. II ne li fera huimais mal ! (p. 40.) Then Helin de Graies attacks Lybius, and gets his right arm broken. — F. 5 Fr. Argon, a saddle bow, Per Meton. Saddle.— P. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 435 1 the 2 d . brother, he beheld 524 how is brother lay in the ffeild & had lost strenght & might ; he smote Sir Lybius in that tyde on the sheeld with much pride, 528 with his spear e ffull right. Sir Lybius away gan. beare with his good speare the helme of that knig-ht. 532 the youngest brother 2 then gan ride, & hitt S/r Lybius in that tyde as a man of much might, The second cousin charges Lybius. Lybius unhelms [page 325] him. The third cousiu & said to him then anon, 533 " Sir, thou art by St. Iohn a ffell Champyowne ; by god that sitteth in trinitye, flight I will w/th thee, 540 I hope to beare thee downe." l as warryour out of witt, on Sir Lybius then hee hitt with a ffell ffauchyon ; 544 soe stifflye his stroakes hee sett, that through helme 3 & basenett 4 he carued Sir Lybius crowne. says he should like to fight Lybius, and cnts through his helm and bascinet into his head. Sir Lybius was served in that stead 548 when hee ffelled 5 on his head that the sword had drawen blood ; Lybius 1—1 be myddelle brobrr com 3erne Vp-on a stede sterne Egre as lyoun. Hym J>03te hys body wolde berne But he my3t al so 3erne Felle lybeaus a-doun. — C. 2 Sir Gramadone, the French calls him, 1. 1122, p. 40.— F. 3 helmet or head-piece, Fr. D? Galea. —P. 4 Bascinet, a light helmet, shaped like a skull-cap, worn with or without a moveable front. Fairholt. — F. 5 felt.— P. The Lambeth MS. reads : Tho wax Lybeous a-greued When he felt on his lied. The Cotton has : Tho was ly-beaus agreede Whan he felde on hedde. — F. 436 LIBIUS DISCONITJS. waves his sword, says two against one isn't fair (the second cousin having joined in again ?), about his head the sword he waned, — all that hee hitt, fforsoothe hee cleeued, 552 as warryour wight and good ; — S*'r Lybius said s withe thoe, " one to flight against 2 is nothing good." 556 ffast they hewed then on him with stroakes great and grim ; against l them he stifflye stood, and cuts off the second cousin's right arm. The third cousin yields to Lybius, and cries for mercy. 2 & through gods grace 560 he smote the eldest in that place vpon the right arme thoe ; hee hitt him soe in that place, — to see itt was a wonderous case,- 564 his right arme ffell him ffroe. 2 the youngest saw that sight, & thought hee had noe might to flight against his ffoe ; 568 to S*r Lybius hee did vp-yeeld his good Speare & sheeld ; mercy he cryed him thoe. 3 Lybius grants it on condition that he and his two brothers go to Arthur, anon Sir Lybius said, " nay, 572 thou shalt not passe this away — by him that bought mankind — but thou & thy brethren twayne plight your trothes without Layine 576 that yee will to "King Arthur wende, & say, ' Lord of great renowne ! in battaill wee be ouercome ; 1 'gainst. — P. 2 - 2 The Cotton text omits these lines, and in the next ones makes hoth brothers yield to Lybius. — F. 3 The French makes the battle with the third knight last all night till next day; then the horse of Sir Gramadone des Aies slips and falls, Lybius seizes the prostrate rider, and he is obliged to yield, p. 41-2— F. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 437 a Knight vs liitlier hath send 580 ffor to yeeld thee tower & towune, & to bee att thy bandowne 1 euermore wi'thouten end.' and give np their all to him. " & bnt if you will doe soe, 584 certes I will you sloe as I am true Knight." anon they sv^are to him thoe ; that they wold to Arthur goe, 588 their trothes anon the plight. S«'r Lybius & that ffaire May rode fforth on the way thither as they had hight ; 592 till itt beffell on the 3? day the ffell together in game & pley, hee and that Maiden bright. They swear to do this, and Lybius rides on with Hellen. On the third day they rode fforthe on west 596 into a wyde fforrest, & might come to noe towne ; the ne wist what way best, ffor there they must needs rest, 600 & there they light a-downe. amonge the greene eues 2 they made a lodge with, bower & leaues, w/th swords bright and browne. 604 Sir Lybius & that maiden bright [page 326] dwelled there all night, 3 that was soe ffaire of ffashyon. they are benighted in a forest and camp out. 1 Fr. bandon, "A son bandon," i. e. at his will and Pleasure. Gl. Gr. Doug. — P. 2 eaves. Metaph. from a house build- ing. 3 The French picture is prettier: Li Desconneus se dormoit Sur l'erbe fresco u reposoit ; Dales lui gist la damoisele, Deseur son brae gist la pucele ; Li uns dales l'autre dormoit, Li lousignols sor els cantoit. (p. 23.) 438 LIMITS DISCONIUrf. The dw.arf keeps wuteli, sees a great fire, wakes Lybius, and says thi'V liutst be off, as he smells roast meat. then the dwarffe began to wake, 608 ffor noe tlieeues shold take away their horsses w/th guile ; then ffor ffearc he began to quake ; a great ffyer hee saw make 612 ffrom them but a mile. "arise," he said, " worthy Kmghi ! to horsse that wee were dight ffor doubt of more peri 11 ! 616 certes I heare a great bost l ; alsoe I smell a savor of rost, by god & by S*- Gyle ! " Lybius rides off, and finds two giants, a blaclc one holding a maid by the bosom, 620 [The Third Part.] -S/r Lybius was stout & gay, & leapt vpon his palffrey, & tooke his sheeld & speare part.<; & rode fforth ffull ffast> 2 gyants hee ffound at Last, [that] 2 strong & stout were. The one was blacke as any sole, 3 the other as red as ffyerye cole, & ffoule bothe they were, the blacke Gyant held in his 4 arme a ffaire mayd by the barme, 5 bright as rose on bryar 6 ; 624 628 1 burst, report, like the discharge of a gun : It is still called bost in Shropsh. —P. 2 Who.— P. 3 A.-S. sol, soil, filth, mire, dirt. Bosworfch. Fr. souillcr, to sojde, slurrie, durtie, smutch, beray, begrime. Cot- grave. The Cotton stanza is : pat on was Red & lojdyche, And pat oper swart as pyche, Grysly bopo of chere. pat oon helde yn hys barme A mayde j^-clepte yn hys arme, As bry^t as blosle on brere. — F. 4 hus in the MS. with a dot.— F. The French is : Car uns gaians moult la pressoit, A force baisier le voloit, Mais cele ne 1' pooit soufrir, Mais se voloit laissier morir. 5 Sinus, gremium. — P. A.-S. bearm, the womb, lap, bosom. Bosworth. — F. A mayde i-clypped in his barme. — L. e brere, so in Chauc. — P. Bryar is one of the words entered under care in Levins's Manipulus or Rhyming Diction- ary, p. 209, col. 1, ed. 1867.— F. LIBICS DISCOXIUS. 439 the red Gyant ffull yarne 032 Bwythe about can turne a wild bore on a spitt ; ffaire the flyer gan berne. the maid cryed ffull yerne, C36 for men shold itt witt ; shee said, " alas & euer away that euer I abode this day with 2 devills for to sitt ! C40 helpe, Mary that is soe mild, for the loue of the l child, that I be not fforgett ! " Sir Lybius said, "by S* lame ! 644 flbr 2 to bring that maid ffrom shame itt were ffull great price ; but flbr to fight with both in shame 3 it is no childs game, 048 they be soe grim and grise. 4 " he tooke his course with his shaft as a man that cold his crafft, & he rode by right assise : 652 the blacke he smote all soe smart through the liuer, long 5 & hart that he might neue/- rise. then filed that maiden sheene, 056 & thanked 6 Marye, heauens queene, that succour had her sent. then came mayd Ellen & the dwarffe by-dene, 7 660 & by the hand her hent, a red out- roasting a boar on a spit. The maid cries out for help. Lybius says it'snochild's play to fight both giant-?, but he charges the black one, and runs him right through the heart. The maid flees; Hellen takes her 1 perhaps thy. — P. 2 for.— P. qu. M.S. ffea.— F. 3 in same, i. e. together, ensemble, Fr. 4 id. ae grisly, horrid, horrible .- 5 lung.— P. -P. 6 d added by Percy. — F. 7 MS. " & by the dwarffe dene," but the tmesis must be a copier's mistake. — F. And the Dwarf by-dene. — P. Sche & here dwerk y-mene. — Cot 440 LIBIDS DISCONIUS. into tlie forest, and she prays for Lybius's safety. The red giant hits at Lybius with the boar, and knocks his horse down. Lybius fights with his sword. The giant lays on Lybius with his spit, covers him with boar's grease, & went into the greaues, 1 & lodged them vnder the leaues in a good entent ; 664 & shee besought Iesus ffor to helpe Sir Lybius that hee was not shent. the red Gyant smote thore 2 668 att Sir Lybius with the bore as a woolfe that were woode ; his Dints he sett soe sore, that Sir Lybius horsse therfore 672 downe to the ground yode. 3 then Sir Lybius with, ffeirce hart, out of his saddle swythe he start as spartle 4 doth out of fyer ; 676 feir[c]ely as any Lyon he ffought with his ffawchyon to quitt the Gyant his hyer. 5 the Gyants spitt sickerlye 680 was more then a cowle tree 6 that he rosted on the bore ; He laid on Sir Lybius ffast, all the while the spitt did last, 684 euer more and more. the bore was soe hott then, that on Sir Lybius the grease ran [page 327] 1 i.e. Groves, Bushes. So in Chaue. —P. 2 i. e. there, metrl gratia, so in Chauc. —P. 3 went. — P. The French makes Lybius kill the other giant first: II . . fiert celui premieremant Qui esforcoit la damoisele. Si la feru les la mamiele. Le fer li fist el cuer serrer ; Les ioils del cief li fist torbler ; Mort le trebuce el feu ardant. (p. 27.) The Cotton text (leaf 46 back, col. 2) follows the French : \>e blake geaunt he smote smert porgh the lyuere, longe, & herte, ' Jwt neuer he my3te aryse. — F. 4 sparkle. — P. sparky 11. — L. sperk. — C. 5 This stanza is not in C. or L. — F. 6 ? Phillipps's coul-staf: " Coul, a kind of Tub, or Vessel with two Ears to be carry'd between two Persons with a Coul-staff." See Lambarde's Perambu- lation, p. 367, and Strutt, ii. 201, says Halliwell, under Cowlstaff. — F. L1BIUS DISCONIUS. 441 right ffast tliore. 1 C88 the gyant was stiffe & stronge, 15 ffoote he was Longe ; hee smote Sir Lybius ffull sore. Euer still the gyant smote 692 att Sir Lybius, well I wott, till the spitt brast in towe. then as man that was wrath, ffor a Trunchyon fforth he goth 696 to flight aga[i]nst his ffoe, & with the End of that spitt S/r Lybius sword 2 in 3 he hitt. then was Sir Lybius wonderous woe. 700 or he againe his staffe vp caught, Sir Lybius a stroke him rought that his right arme ffell him ffroe. the Gyant ffell to the ground, 704 & Sir Lybius in that stond smote of his head thoe: in a ffrench booke itt is ffound. 3 to the other he went in that stond, 4 708 & serued him right soe. he tooke vp the heads then & bare them to that ffaire maiden that he had woone in flight. 712 the maid was glad & blythe, & thanked god often sithe that euer he was made a ~Kuight. S/r Lybius said, " gentle dame, 710 tell me now what is jour name and batters him till the spit breaks. Then he gets a truncheon, and splits Lybius's shield with it, but drops his staff. Lybius cuts off his right arm, then his head, and gives both heads to the maiden. She 1 There is nothing of this grease business in the French and Cotton texts. — F. 2 scheld. — Cot. The French has not the passage. — F. VOL. II. 3 Eenals de Biauju's text omits the cut ling off of the right arm, but makes Lybius split the giant's head to the teeth.— F. 4 stound. — P. 442 LIBIUS DISCONIDS. tells him that her father is an earl, Sir Arthore, and her name is Violet. & where that you were borne." " Sir," she said, "by S! lame, my ffather is of rich ffame, 720 & dwelleth here beforne ; he is a Lord! of much might, an Erie & a Noble Knight ; his name is S[ir] Arthore, 724 & my name is Vylett, 1 that the Gyant had besett for the Castle ore. She was out walking when the giant sprang on her, and would have destroyed her, had it not been for Lyblus. Christ reward him ! " as I went on my demeaning 2 728 to-night in the eueni[n]ge, none euill then I thought ; the gyant, wi'th-out leasing, out of bush he gan spring, 732 & to the flyer me brought, of him I had beene shent, but that god me succour sent that all this world hath wrought. 736 Sir K.night ! god yeeld thee thy meed, ffbr vs that on the roode did bleed, & with his blood vs bouo-ht ! " They all ride to w/thout any more talking 740 to their horsses they gan spring, 3 1 Vilett, Violette.— P. Vyolette.— Cot. The French gives the name and story differently : . . nommee sui Clarie . . Et Saigremors si est mes frere, Li jaians me prist ces mon pere. En nn vergier hivi mais entrai Et por moi deduire i alai. Li jaians ert desous i'entree, Trova la porte desfremee ; Iluec me prist, si m'enporta, Ici son conpaignon trova. (p. 32.) — P. 2 probably going a walking, demener, the same as promener, qu. — P. Yesterday yn the mornynge Y wente on my playnge. Cot. MS. in Eitson. 3 The French text makes them first have a grand feast on the grass off the giants' food. Squire Sobers distinguishes himself as cook, seneschal, butler, mar- shal, chamberlain, and squire, helped by the dwarf, p. 32-34. Sobers is a most useful personage all through the French story. — F. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 443 744 748 & rode fforth all in-same, & told the Erie in euery thing 1 how he wan in flighting his Daughter ffrom woe & shame, then were these heads sent vnto ~King Arthur ffor a present With much mirth & game, that in Arthurs court arose of Sir Lybius great Losse 2 & a right good name. Sir Arthore's, and Lybius sends the giants' heads to King Arthur. 752 756 760 4? parte, 3 the Erie, ffor that good deede, gaue Sir Lybius for his meede sheeld and armour bright, & alsoe a noble steede that was good in euerye need, in trauayle & in flight. [The Fourth Part,] now Sir Lybius and his May tooke their leaue, & rode their way thither as they had hight. 4 r Then they saw in a parke [page 328] a Castle stiffe & starke, 5 that was ffull maruelouslye dight ; 764 < wrought itt was with lime & stone, — such a one saw he neuer none, — ■ with towers stiffe & stout. Sir Arthore gives Lybius and a noble steed. Lybius rides on towards the Waste Land, and sees a castle 1 erl tydynge. — Cot. 2 lose, praise. — F. 3 The Cotton text has an extra stanza here, in which Sir Arthore offers Lybius his daughter Vyolette to wife, but the offer is declined, leaf 47 b. MS., p. 30, Ritson. The French has neither of the stanzas. — F. 4 pey Byde forp alle pre g a Toward pe fayre cyte, Kardeuyle fore sop hyt hj^t. — C. Here follow in the French a page and a quarter of what M. Hippeau terms " Digression de l'Auteur : II sera fidele a celle qu'il ne peut encore nommer Jamie, mais qu'il appelle la moult ainu'i ." The next adventure with Sir Gefferon, or Part IV, is omitted. — F. 5 i. e. strong. — P. 2 4 11 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. which he thinks very strong. Hellen tells him that a brave knight lives there : Sir Lybius said, " soe haue I blis ! worthy dwelling here itt is 768 to them that stood in doubt ! " then laughed that Maiden bright, & sayd, " here dwelleth a Knight, the best that here is about. 772 who-soe will with him flight, — be he Baron or be he knight,— he maketh him to loute. whoever brings him a lady fairer than his own, gets a white falcon ; but if she is not so fair, Sir Gefferon cuts his head off. Lybius declares he'll fight Gefferon, and produce Hellen as his love. " soe well he loueth his Leman 776 that is soe ffaire a woman, & a worthy in weede, who-soe bringeth a ffairer then, a ioly ffawcon as white as swan 780 he shall haue to his meede. & if shee be not soe bright, With Sir Gefferon he must flight ; & if he may not speed, 784 l his [head] shall be ffrom him take, & sett ffull hye vpon a stake, truly e withouten dread. " the sooth you may see and heere ; 788 there is on euery corner 2 a head or tow ffull right." Sir Lybius sayd al soe soone, " by god & by S* Iohn ! 792 with Sir Gefferon will I flight, & chalenge the lolly ffawcon, & say that I haue one in the towne, a lemman al soe 3 bright ; 796 & if hee will her see, then I will bring 4 thee, be itt day or by night." 5 1 his [head] shall.— P. 2 Percy has added an e at the end. -F. 3 MS. alsoe, and in line 790.— F. al soe. — P 4 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 5 by day or night, or dele by. — P. LII3IUS MSCOMUS. 445 the dwarffe sayd, "by Sweete Iesus ! 800 gentle Sir Lybyus l Disconiys, thou puttest thee in great perill. Sir Giffron La fFrandeus, 2 in flighting he hath an vse 804 Knights ffor to beguile." Sir Lybius answered and sware, & said, " therof I haue no care ! by god & by S, Gyle, 808 I will see him in the fface or I passe out of this place, ffor all his subtulle wile ! ' The dwarf warns him of Gefferon's wiles. Lybius doesn't care for 'em ; he will fight. without any more questyon 812 the 3 dwelled still in the towne all night there in peace. on the morrow he made him readie ffor to winne him the Masterye 816 certes 4 withouten Lease. he armed him ffull sure in the sayd Armor that ~K.ing Arthurs 5 was, 820 & his horsse began he to stryde ; the dwarffe rod by his syde to that strong palace. Sir Gyffron la ffrandeus 824 rose vp, as itt was his vse, in the morrow tyde flbr to honor sweete Iesus. then he was ware of Sir Lybius ; 828 as a prince of much pryde Next day Lybius and rides to Gefferon's castle. Gefferon sees him, 1 There is a stroke too many after the u in the MS.— F. 2 Syr Gyffroim le flowdous. — Cot. 3 they.— P. * MS. certer.- F. 5 erl autores. — Cot., which must be right. — F. sir Arthores, or Knigki A;-- tkoves. — P. 446 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. and asks why he comes. 832 ffast he rode into that place. Sir Ieffron maruailed att that case, & loud to him did crye with voyce loud and shrill : " comest thou ffor good or ill ? tell me now on hye." " To fight you," says Ly bitis ; " you have no such fair maiden as I have ; give me your falcon for King Arthur. Sir Lybius said al soe * tyte, 836 " certes I haue greate delight with thee ffor to flight ! thou hast [said] great despite ; 2 thou hast a Leman, 3 none so Avhyte 840 by day or by night as I haue one in the towne, ffairer of ffashyon for to see with sight. 844 therfore thy lolly ffawcowne, to ~K.ing Arthur with the crowne bring I will by right." [page 329] My lady is in Cardigan ; we'll set yours and mine in the market, and see which is the fairer." Sir Geffron said al soe right, 848 " where shall wee see that sight, whether the ffairer bee ? " Sir Lybius said, " wee will ffull right in Cardigan see that sight, 4 852 there all men may itt see ; in the middes of that Markett, there shall they both be sett to looke on them soe ffree 5 ; 856 & if my Leman be browne, ffor thy lolly ffawcowne iust I will with thee." 1 MS. alsoe, and in 1. 847.— F. 2 Thou seyste a foule dispite. — Lam. 3 Lennan in the MS. — F. 4 In Cardeuyle cyte ryjt. — Cot. s bothe bond & fre.— Cot. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 447 Sir Geffron said alsoe then, 860 " I wold ffaine as any man to-day att yondertyde. 1 all this I grant thee well, & out of this Castell 864 to Cardigan 2 I will ryde." their gloues were there vp yold, that fforward 3 to hold, as princes proud in pryde. 868 Sir Lybius wold no longer blinn, 4 but rode againe to his inn & wold no longer abyde. Gefferon agrees. Lybius rides back, and he said to maid Ellen 872 that was soe bright & sheene, " looke thou make thee bowne ! I thee say, by S' Quintin, St'r Gefferons Leman I will winn : 876 to-day shee will come to towne, in the midds of this cytye, that men may you see, & of you bothe the ffashyon ; 880 & if thou be not soe bright, wtth Str Geffron I shall flight to winn ft the Iollye ffawcowne." the dwarffe answered, " for-thy 5 884 that thou doest a deed hardye 6 ffor any man borne, thou wilt doe by no mans read tells Hellen to get ready, as she is to be shown against Gefferon's love. The dwarf tells him it's a foolhardy business ; 1 forte ondertyde. — P. f>ys day at vnderne tyde.— C. This daye at vnder- tide.— L. 2 Karlof.— Cot. Kardyle.— Lam. 3 A.-S. forewcard, agreement. — F. 4 blim in the MS.— F. 5 for thy, therefore, according to Gl. Ch. & G.D., here it should seem to be forthwith. — P. Cot. omits this stanza. The Lambeth MS. has : The Dwerff answerd and seid, " Thow doste a savage dede ! ffor any man i-borne Tow wilt not do by Kede, But faryst with thi madd hedo As lorde that will be lorne." hardye, qu. — P. MS. not clear.- 448 LI BUS DISCONIUS. he'd better go on his way. Lybius won't hear of this. for thou fforesi in thy child head 888 as a man that wold be lorne ! & therlbre I thee pray to wend ffortli on thy way, & come not him beforne." 892 Sir Lybius said, '* that were greaf shame ! I had leuer w/th great grame ' w/th wild horsses to be torue." Hellen decks herself with a violet mantle, and precious stones. maid Ellen, ffaire and free, 896 made hast sickerlye ber ffor to attvre in Keicheys 2 that were white. for to doe all his delight, 900 w/th good 3 gold wyer. a vyolett mantle, the sooth to say, ffurred well with gryse gay, 4 shee cast about ber Lyer 5 ; 904 the stones sbee had about her mold were precyous & sett w/th gold, 6 the best in tliat shire. and rides on a palfrey to Cardigan market. S/r Lybius sett that ifaire May 908 on 7 a right good 8 Palffrey, & rode ffortb all three. euery man to other gan say, " heere cometh a ffaire May, 912 And louelye ffor to see ! ' : into the Markett bee rode, & boldly there abode [page 330] 1 i.e. grief, sorrow; vexation, anger; madness : trouble, affliction, Gl. ad Chauc— P. 2 Kercheffs, qu. — P. keuechers. — C. kerehevys. — L. 3 arayde vryth. — Cot. 4 Pelxired vrith grys & gray. — Cot. 5 swyre (neck). — Cot. 6 A sercle vp-on here molde, Of stones & of golde. — Cot. Mold, the suture of the skull; form, fashion, appearance. — Hallrwell. 7 om, or ? one, in the MS. — F. 8 Vp-on a pomely. — Cot. LIBIt's DISCOMUl 449 in the middes 1 of that cir. 9 : 6 anon the saw Geffron come ryde, a 2 gqniera bv his side. rah, a space, time. — F. 2 hounds. — P. 3 a cast, a stroke. It. short space, Chauc. GL— P. 4 seruede. — Cot. 5 Wyrhale.— Cot, 6 Patches. Genus Canum : Braceones, Lye. Jun. — P. A.-S. race, a rach, a setting dog ? Lye, in Bosworth. ? a dog hunting by scent,— F. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 455 hee was of all couloures that men may see on flowers betweene Midsummer & May. 1084 the Mayd sayd al soe l soone, " soe faire a ratch I neuer saw none, nor pleasanter to my pay 2 ! of all sorts of colours. Hellen wishes sh,:; lalit. " wold to God that I him ought 3 ! " 1088 Sir Lybius anon him caught, & gaue him to maid Elen. 4 they rode fforth all rightes, & told of flighting with Knights 1092 flbr ladyes bright & sheene. they had rydden but a while, not the space of [a] Mile into that flbrrest green e ; 1096 then they saw a hind sterke, 5 & 2 grayhounds that were like the ratch that I of meane. So Lybius catches it and gives it her. Soon tV.ey see a stag followed by two grey- hounds, the hunted 6 still vnder the Lind 7 1100 to see the course of that hind vnder the flbrrest side, there beside dwelled that ~K.night that Sir Otes de lile hight, 1 104 a man of much pride ; he was cladd all in Inde, 8 & flast pursued after the hind and stop to watch her. Sir Otes de Lile 1 MS. alsoe.-F. 2 satisfaction, liking. — P. 3 owned, possest. — P. 4 The French text makes the hound stop with a thorn in its foot; Hellen takes it out, rides off w r ith the dog, and a huntsman sees it under her cloak. She refuses to give it up to him or his master, and so Sir Otes, or If Orguillous de la Lande, rides off for his armour, and fights Lybius. — F. 5 stout Hind. — P. 6 hovede (stopt). — Cot. 7 Properly a Teil or Lime trep, hut in these ballads it seems to be used for Trees in general. — P. 8 i.e. azure or blue as used by Lydg. — black according to Sp. Gl. ad Ch. —P. 456 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. rides by on a bay, sees Lybius and Hellen, and remonstrates with them for taking his hound. Lybius says he means to keep it. Sir Otes warns him to look out for his life. Lybius calls him a churl. Sir Otes rebukes him ; vpon a bay distere ; 1 1 OS loude lie gan his liorne blow, for the hunters shold itt know, & know where he were. as he rode by that woode right, 1112 there he saw that younge Knight & alsoe that ffaire May ; the}' dwarffe rode by his side. Sir Otes bade they shold abyde, 1116 they Ledd 1 his ratch away : " ffreinds," he said, " why doe you soe ? let my ratch ffrom you goe ; good for you itt were. 1120 I say to you without Lye, this ratch has beene my all out this 7 yeere." Sir Lybius said anon tho, 1124 "I tooke him with my hands 2, & with me shall he abyde ; I gaue him to this maid hend 2 that with, me dothe wend 1128 riding by my side." then said Sir Otes de lile, " thou puttest thee in great perill to be slaine, if thou abide." 1132 Sir Lybius said in that while, " I giue right nought of thy wile, churle ! tho thou chyde." then spake Sir Otes de lile, 1136 & said, "thy words be vile ! churle was neuer my name ! I say to thee without ffayle, the countesse of Carlile 1140 certes was my dame ; The last d has a tag to it.— F. 2 gentle, kind.— P. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 457 " & if I were armed now as well as art thou, wee wold flight in-same. 1144 or thou my ratch from me reue, 1 we wold play, ere itt were eue, a wonderous strong game." Sir Lybius said al soe 2 prest, 1148 " goe fforth & doe thy best ; Thy ratch with mee shall wend." [page 333] they rode on right 3 west througe a deepe flbrrest, 1152 then as the dwarfle them kend. 4 if he were armed, he would fight him. Lybius says " Do your best," aud rides on. Sir Otes de lile in that stower rode home into his Tower, & flbr his ffreinds sent, 1156 & told them anon- rights how one of Arthurs K.nights shamely had him shent, & had his ratch e away Inome. 5 1160 then the sayd all and some, 6 that " theese shall soone be tane ; & neuer home shall hee come tho he were as grim a groome 1164 as euer was Sir Gawaine." 7 Sir Otes tells his friends how badly Lybius has treated him. They say they'll soon take Lybius. they dight them to armes With gleaues 8 and gysarmes, 9 as they wold warr on take ; 1168 Knights and squiers They and their friends arm, 1 bereave, take away. — P. 2 alsoe, MS.— F. 3 th is crossed out between t and w. — F. 4 taught, made known. Gl. Ch. — P. 5 y-nome, taken. Sax. niman, to Uikc, hinc nim. 'Lye. — P. 6 sone in MS.— F. 7 f>aii3 he were bojtyere gome Than Lauwcelot du lake.— Cot. M. Hippeau prints "thogh tyer," which doesn't look muchlike "doughtier " at first. MS. is clear, leaf 50, col. 2, 1. 5.— F. 8 gleave, a sword, cutlace, Fr. glaive. — P. swerdes. — Cot. 9 gysarme, a halbort or Bill. Sk. — P. VOL. II. II H 458 mount, LIBIUS DISCONIUS. leapt on their disteres ffor their Lords sake. see Lybins, and say they'll kill him. Lybius advises Hellen vpon a hill trulye 1172 Sir Lybius they can espye, ryding a well good pace, to him gan they loud crye, & said, " thou shalt dye 1176 ffor thy great trespas ! ' : Sir Lybius againe beheld how ffull was the ffeild, for many people there was ; 1180 he said to Maid Ellen, " ffor this ratch I weene to vs commeth a carefull case. to hide in the forest. He will abide the battle. Lybius's foes five at him with bows and wound him. He rides down men and horses, " I rede that yee withdraw 1184 yonder into the woods wawe, 1 jour heads for to hyde ; ffor here vpon this plahie, tho I shold be slaine, 1188 the battell I will abyde." into the fforrest the rode ; and Sir Lybius there abode of him what may betyde. 1192 then the smote at him with crossebowes, with speare, & with bowes turkoys, 2 that made him wounds wyde. Sir Lybius with his horsse ran, 1196 & bare downe horsse and man ; 1 vro&e schawe. — Cot. wawe is used in Chaucer for a wave, but that can hardly be the sense here. — P. ? Waw, wall. Jamieson. — F. 2 i. e. longbowes. Fr. Turquois, Turkish, such as the Turks use. Grl. ad CD.— P. See Strutt, p. 66, ed. 1830. — F. With bowe and with arblaste To hym they schote faste. — Cot. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 459 1200 ffor nothing wold he spare, euery man said then that hee was the ffeend Sathan that wold mankind fforfare l ; like Satan, 1204 ffor he that Sir Lybius ranght, his death wound there he caught, & smote them downe by-deene. but anon he was besett, as a ffish in a nett, with groomes 2 ffell and keene ; but is beset for 12 K.nights verelye 1208 he saw come ryding redylye in armes ffaire & bright ; all the day they had rest, for the thought in the fforrest 1212 to see Sir Lybius that Knight, in a sweate they were all 12, — one was the hord himselfe in they 3 ryme to read right : — 1216 they smote att him all att once, ffor they thought to breake his bones & ffell him downe in flight. by twelve knights who have waited for him, and all attack him at once. ffast together can the ding ; 1220 & round they stroakes he gan fflinge among them all in fere ; fforsooth without Leasing the sparkells out gan springe 1224 of sheeld and harnesse 4 cleere. Sir Lybius slew of them 3, & 4 away gan fllee Lybius kills three of them ; four flee. 1 perdere, perire. Lye.-P. 2 men. — P. A.-S. forfaran. the.— P. There is nothing of this incident in the French. — F. 4 Only half the n in the MS h h 2 460 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. Sir Otos and his four sons And wold not come him nero 1228 the horcl abode in that stoure, & soe did his sonnes 4, to sell their liues deere. fp.ige 334] strike at Lybius. Jlis blood flows, his sword breaks, Sir Otcs cuts into his head, then they gaue l stroakes riue, 2 1232 he one against them 5, & ffonght as they were wood, nye downe they gan him bring ; as the water of a Spring 1236 of him ran the bloode ; his sword brake by the hilte ; then was he neere spilt ; he was ffull madd of moode. 1240 the horcl a stroake on him sett through helme and Basnett, in the skull itt stoode. and he swoons ; but soon he revives, seizes his axe, then in a swoone he lowted lowe ; 1244 he leaned on his saddle bow as a man that was nye slake ; his 4 sonnes were all a bowne 3 ffor to perish 4 his Acton, 5 1248 double Maile and plate ; but as he gan to smart, againe he plucked vp 6 Lis hart, as the Kinde 7 of his estate ; 1 252 & soone he hent in his ffist an axe that hanged on his sadle crest, almost itt was too late. and kills three horses. then he ffought as a Knight ; 1256 their horsses ffell downe right, 1 gan.— P. 2 rive, To thrust, stab, to rend, &c. Gl. ad Ch.— P. ? rife, all about.— F. 3 ready. — P. 4 peree. — Cot. persyne. — Lam. MS. 5 Fr. Hocqueton Vp he pullede. -P. Cot. (leaf 50, back, col. 2.) He pulled vp. —Lam. 7 Pour strokes for in in the MS. — F. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 461 he slew att stroakes 3. & when the ~Lord saw the flight, of his horsse a-downe gan light, 1 1260 away hee ffast gan fflee. Sir Lybius noe longer abode, but after him ffast he rode, & vnder a chest of tree 2 1264 there he had him killed ; but the hord him yeelded att his will ffor to bee, Sir Otcs flees; Lybius catches him, and Sir Otes yields up himself & ffor to yeeld him his stent, 3 1268 treasure, Land, and rent, Castle, hall, & tower. Sir Lybius consented therto in 4 fforward that he wold goe 1272 vnto King Arthur, & say, " Lord of great renowne ! in battell I am ouerthrowne ; & sent thee to honor." 1276 the hord granted theretill, ffor to doe all his will. they went home to his tower, & anon Maiden Ellen 1280 with knights fiiueteene was ffeitched into the Castle, shee & the dwarffe by-deene told of his deeds Keene, 1284 & how that itt befell that hee had presents 5 4 sent vnto K.mg Arthur, and all his lands and goods, and agrees to go to King Arthur and honour him. They go to Sir Otes's castle. Hellen is brought there, and tells Sir Otes that he is Lybius's fourth present to Arthur. 1 And on hys courser tyjt. — Cot. 2 a chesten tree, i. e. a Chesnut Tree. Sic legerim. vid. Grl. ad Chauc. — P. chesteyn. — Cot. chesteyne. — Lam. 3 his stint, apud Salopicnscs, signifies his measure, his quantity, his share. — P. be sertayne extante. — Cot. 4 MS. him.— P. in.— Cot. 5 presentes. — Cot. persones. — Lam. 462 LIBIUS DISCOMUS. Lybius recovers from his wounds and rides on towards Sinadon. Sir Otes goes to Arthur, and tells him how Lybius beat him. that he had woone ffull well. 1288 the Lore? was glad & blythe, & thanked god often sithe, & alsoe S* Michall, 1 that such a noble Knight 1292 shold ffor that Ladye flight that was soe flaire and flree. in the towne dwelled a Knight : att the ffull ffortnight 1296 Sir Lybyus 2 there gan bee, & did heale him of his wounds bothe hole and sound by the 6 weekes end. 1300 then S/r Lybius and his May rode ffbrthe on their way, to Sinadon to wend ; and alsoe the Lord of that tower 1304 went vnto King Arthur, & prisoner him did yeeld, & told how a Knight younge in flighting had him woone, 1308 & ouercome him in the ffeeld ; & said, " Jjord of great renowne ! I am in battell brought a-downe -with, a Knight soe bolde." 1312 King Arthur had good game, & soe had they all in-same that heard that tale soe told. 3 [page 335] 1 The Cotton text omits the rest of this part. The French of the whole part is very different. — F. 2 One stroke too many for u in the MS. There means, I suppose, the house of the knight of 1. 1294. The Lambeth MS. has : Lybeous a fourtenyght Then with him came lende, He did helen his wounde, And made him hole and sownde. Corresponding nearly with our text. — F. 3 The French puts in here its tale of the Falcon or Sparrow-hawk, which M. Hippeau summarises thus, p. x. : LTnconnu, Robert, Helie, et son nail* apercoivent, en sortant du bois [where Lybius has vanquished VOrguillous de LIMITS DISCONIUS. 463 1316 6? parte 1320 1324 [The Sixth Part.] [Lybius's Adventure at the lie Dore.] Now let vs rest awhile of S*r Otes de lile, & tell wee other tales. Sir Lybius rode many a mile, sawe l aduentures many & vile in England 2 & in Wales, till itt beffell in the monthe of June, when the ffenell 3 hangeth in the towne _ all greene in seemlye manner, 4 The midsummer 5 day is ffaire & long ; merry is the ffoules songe, the notes of birds on bryar 6 ; Lybius sees adventures in England and Wales. On Mid- summer day la Lande, our Sir Otes], un castel d'ou descend, pour venir a leur rencontre, une dame richement vetue et d'une beaute ravissante. Elle leur apprend que celui qu'elle aimait a ete tue par un chevalier redoutable qui habite le cha- teau. La se trouve, dit-elle, un epervier perche sur un baton d'or. La damoi- selle qui pourra s'en emparer sera pro- clamee la plus belle ; mais elle devra se faire accompagner par un chevalier assez hardi pour oser se mesurer avec le maitre de l'epervier. La pauvre damoi- selle, desireuse d'obtenir le prix de la beaute, avait conduit a ce chateaii son ami qui avait succombe dans une lutte inegale. " Je le vengerai, et vous serez reconnue comme la plus belle ! " dit lTneonnu, qui trouve l'occasion d'un nouveau triomphe. Gifflrf, le fils cFO, est terrasse an effet; et, comme l'lnconnu apprend que la jeune fille potir laquelle il vient de se battre est Marguerie, la fille du roi d'Ecosse, Ago- lant, il l'a fait conduire chez son pere par un chevalier dont la valeur et la loyaute sont eprouvees. Hehe recon- nait en elle sa cousine; elle lui fait de tendres adieux. " Je ne sais," dit-elle avec sensibilite, " si jamais je vous re- verrai, mais je vous aimerai toujours ! " — F. 1 One stroke too many for the w in the MS.— F. 2 Among aventurus fyle In Yrland.— Cot, and sey awntours the while and [in] Irlande. — Lam. Vile = fele^ numerous. — F. Chervil & fennel Two very * mighty (ones) 3 ceriille and finule fela mihtigti twa ba wyrte gesceop witig drihten halig on heofenum \>a. he hongode sette and ssende worulde earmum and gum eallum to bote. on vn. eadi- These worts formed ( The) wit-fult Lord Holy in heavens Them he set hung- up | the 7 And sent to worlds For the poor & the rich For a remedy § for all. 34-7, ed. Cockayne, an e to the r. — F. Leechdoms, iii. 4 P. has added sales. — Cot. saale. — Lam. 5 One stroke too few in the MS. — ] 6 briere. — P. As notes of the nyjtyngales. — Cot, And notis of the nyghtyngale. — Lam * fair and. — Cockayne. + ^ise he and witty is.— C. % he suspended. — C. § Panacea. — C. 464 Lybius sees a fair city, which Hellen tells him is He d'Ore, LIBIDS DISCONIUS. Sir Lybius then gan ryde ] 328 along by a rhier side, & saw a ffaire Citye with pauillyons of ranch pride, & a castle ffaire & wyde, 1332 and gates great plentye. he asked ffast what itt hight : the maid said anon-right, " Sir, I will tell thee ; 1336 men clepeth itt He dore ; l there hath beene slaine K.nights more then beene in this countrye and that a lovely lady is kept there by the giant Mangys, to whom every knight must bow, and lay down his armour. " ffor a Ladye that is of price, 1340 her coulour is red as rose on rise. 2 all this cnntry is in doubt ffor a Gyant that hight Mangys, 3 there is noe more such theeues ! 4 1344 that Jj&dye hee lyeth about ; he is heathen, as blacke as pitch ; now there be no more such of deeds strong & stout ; 1348 what Knight that passeth this brigg, his armes he must downe ligg, & to the gyant Lout. 5 " he is 20 6 ffoote of lenght, 1352 & much more of strenght 1 Isle Dor, Fr. Yledor.— Cot. II- deore. — Lam. The French has a long description of the Castle, but nothing about the giant Mangys. It is a knight, Malgiers li Gris (p. 77), who there de- fends the entrance to the castle ; and if he conquers every comer for seven years (or nine according to M. Hippeau) he is to wed La Dame aux blanches Mains. The knight has killed 143 opponents, and cut their heads off (p. 71, 1. 1985), when he is overcome by Lybius. — F. 2 sprig, twig, shrub, Jun. Lye.— P. 3 Maungys. — Cot. 4 Nowhere hys pere ther nys. — Cot. Nowhere is non suche.— Lam. 5 MS. Cot. omits the next twelve lines. — F. 6 thirty. — Lam. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 465 then other ~Knights ffiue. Sir Lybius ! now ! bethihke thee, hee is more grimwner ffor to see 1356 then any one aliue ; 2 he beareth haires on his brow like the bristles of a sow ; his head is great & stout 3 ; 1360 eche arme is the lenght of an ell, his ffists beene great & ffell, dints ffor to driue about." She warns Lybius not to fight him. Sir Lybius said, " maiden hend ! 1364 on our way wee will wend ffor all his stroakes ill, if god will me grace send, or this day come to an end 1368 I hope him ffor to spill. 4 tho I be young & lite, 5 I will him sore smyte, & let god doe his will. 1372 I beseech god almight that I may soe w^th him flight, that giant 6 ffor to kill." Lybius says that by God's help he'll kill him before the day ends. then they rode fforth all 3 1376 vnto that ffaire cytye, men call itt He dore 7 ; anon Mangy can they see vpon a bridge of tree, 1380 as grimm as any bore ; Near lie d'Ore they see Mangys 1 well. — Lam. 2 That thou with him ne maeched bee, He is gryme to Discryue. — Lam. 3 grete as an hyve. — Cot. 4 Cot. inserts here : I have y-seyn grete okes Falle fore wyndes strokes, J?e smale han stonde stylle, and omits the last three lines of the stanza. Lam. does the same, altering the words a little. — F. 5 lite, little.— P. 6 MS. grant. — F. giant, qu. — P. 7 Ylledore. — Cot. Iledolowr. — Lam. 466 L1BIUS DISCONIUS. with a black shield, a spear and sword. 1384 his sheild was blacke as ter ' ; his paytrill, 2 his crouper, 3 3 mammetts 4 there-in were ; the were gaylye gilt -with, gold ; & a spere in his hand he did hold, & alsoe his sword in ffere. Mangys asks Lybius who he is, and advises him to turn back. Lybius refuses. He cryed to him in despite, 1388 & said, " ffellow, I thee quite ! 5 now what thou art, mee tell ; & turne againe al soe 6 tyte ffor thine owne proffitt, 1392 if thou loue thy selfe well." Sir Lybius said anon-right, " "King Arthur made me a Knight, vnto him I made my vow 1396 that I shold neuer turne my hacke ffor noe such devill in blacke. goe ! make thee readye now ! ' [page 336] They charge (Lords and ladies Now Sir Lybius & Mangys, 1 400 Of horsses 7 proud of price together they rode full right ; both LorJs & Ladyes there Lay on pount tornere 8 1 404 to see that seemlye sight, 1 tar. — F. perhaps as Aster, Raster, or Aster is a word still used in Shrop- shire, signifying the back of the chimney. "As black as the Haster" is a common expression with them. — P. pych. — Cot. pyeche. — Lam. The French knight's shield is Sinople, greene colour (in Blazon). — Cotgrave : Les escus a sinople estoit, Et mains blances parmi avoit (p. 73). — F. 2 Poitrel, Tpeytre\,antilena : The breast- armour for a horse. Jun. — P. 3 croupere. — P. 4 Mammet, a puppet, an Image, a false-god. Jun. — P. One stroke too many in the MS. — F. 5 Say, bou felaw yn whyt. — Cot. & Lam. 6 MS. alsoe.— F. 7 On Horses. — P. On stedes. — Cot. & Lam. 8 ? Pont Tornere, the name of the bridge. — F. Leyn out yn pomet tours. — Cot. Laynen in her toures. — Lam. The French text brings them all out of the castle, except La Dame aux blanches Mains. — F. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. & prayed to god loud & still, " if that itt were his will, to lielpe that cristyan Knight ; 1408 & the vile Gyaunt that beleeueth in Termagant, that he might dye in flight ! ' : theire speres brake assunder, 1412 their stroakes flared as the thunder, 1 the peeces gan out spring, euery man had great wonder that Sir Lybius had not beeue vnder 1416 att the ffirst begininge. anon they drew sords bothe ; as men that were fiull wrothe, together gan they dinge : 1420 S^r Lybius smote Mangyes thoe that his sheild ffell him ffroe, in the ffeild he gan itt filing. Mangyes gan smite in that stead 1424 Sir Lybius horse on the head, & dashed out his braine ; his horsse fell downe dyinge. St'r Lybius sayd nothing, 1428 but start vp againe ; an axe in his hand he hent anon that hunge on his sadle arson, 2 & smote a stroake of maine 1432 through Mangis horsse swire, 3 carued him throug long 4 & liuer, 5 & quitt him well againe. 467 pray that Lybius may kill Mangys). Their spears break ; they draw their swords ; Lybius cuts away Mangys's shield ; Mangys kills Lybius's horse, and Lybius kills his. 1 The first part of thunder is blotted in the MS. — F. donder. — Cot. thornier. —Lam. 2 arcon. Fr. i.e. saddle bow.— P. 3 swire, swere, the neck. Gl. ad Ch. —P. 4 through lung. — P. 5 P. has added an e to the end of Utter. — F. fore-karf bon and lyre. — Cot. forkarve bone and lyre. — Lam. 468 Then each wounds the other badly, and they fight from six to evensong. Ly bius asks leave to get some drink. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. descriue the stroakes cold no man 1436 that were giuen betwene them then ; 1 to bedd peace was no boote thoe ; deepe wounds there they caught, ffor they both sore ffought, 1440 & either was others ffoe. ffro : the hower of prime till it was euensong time, they ffought together thoe. 1444 Sir Lybius thirsted then sore, & sayd, " Mangy es, thine ore 2 ! to drinke lett me goe ; " & I will grant to thee, 1443 what loue 3 thou biddest mee, such happe if thee betyde. great shame itt wold bee a K.night ffor thirst shold dye, 1452 & to thee litle pryde." Mangys gives it him, but as he lies down drinking Mangys knocks him into the river. Lybius gets out, Mangies granted him his will, ffor to drinke his mil without any more despite. 1456 as Sir Lybius lay ouer the banke, through his helme he dranke ; Mangyes gan him smite that into the riuer he goes. 1460 but vp anon he rose ; wonderffull he was dight with his armour euery deale ; " now by S! Micaheel 1464 I am twise as light ! 1 It was no boot then to bid (propose) peace.— P. Cot. and Lam. have differ- ent lines. — F. 2 mercy. — F. 3 bone. — C. & Lam. LIBIDS DISCONIUS. 469 what weenest thout ffeend fere ? that I vnchirstened were or thou saw itt with sight ? 1468 I shall, ffor thy baptise, [ pa ge 337] well qu[i]tte thee thy service, by the grace of god almight." a new battell there began ; 1472 either fFast to other ran, & stroakes gaue with might, there was many a gentleman, and alsoe Ladyes as white as swan, 1476 they prayed all ffor the Knight. and tells Mangys he'll pay him out. They fight again ; t 1480 but Mangis anon in the ffeild carued assunder Sir Lybius sheild with stroakes of armes great, then Sir Lybius rann away thither were Mangis sheild Lay ; & vp he can itt gett, Mangys cutsLybius's shield in two. Lybius gets Mangys's shield ; & ran againe to him ] ; 1484 with stroakes great and grim together they did assayle ; there beside the watter brimne till it waxed wonderous dimm, 1488 betweene them lasted that battell. 2 Sir Lybius was warryour wight, & smote a stroke of much might ; through hawberke, 3 plate and maile, 1492 bee smote of by the shoolder bone his right arme soone and anon into the ffeild with- out ffaile. and they fight on till Lybius cuts off Mangys's right arm. 1 One stroke too many in MS. 2 battayle — P. 3 coat of mail, thro 1 plate $• mail, is used both by Milton & Spencer. — P. 470 Mangys flees. Lybius pursues him, and cuts his back in two, and his head off. Lybius goes into the town, and is received by the beautiful Madam de Armoroure, LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 1 when the gyant that gan sec 1496 that he shold slaine bee, hee filed, with much maine. Sir Lybius after him gan hye, & with, strong stroakes mightye 1500 smote his backe in twaine. thus was the Gyant dead : Sir Lybius smote of his head ; then was the people ffaine. 2 1504 Sir Lybius bare the head to the towne ; the mett him with a ffaire procession, the people came him againe. a Ladye white as the Lyllye mower, 1508 hight Madam de Armoroure, 3 receiued that gentle Knight, & thanked him in that stoure 1 The Ashmole MS. 61 reads : Tho gyante gane to se That sleyne schuld [he] be : He stode to fense A-3eyne, And at be secuwd stroke Syre lybeus to hjm smote, And brake hys Arme in tweyne. The gyante \>er he leuyd, lybpus smote of hj's hede, There-of he was full feyne ; He bore be hed in-to be toune. ~With A fey re prosessyoura The folke come hym A-3ene. That lady was whyte As iiowre That men callyd denamowre. &c. &c. 2 glad. — P. And of be batayle was fayn. — Cot. 3 The French text has a glowing des- cription of the lady's beauty (p. 78-9) : Sa biaute tel clarte jeta, Quant ele ens le palais entra, Com la lune qu'ist de la nue . . Plus estoit blance d'une flor, Et d'une vermelle color Estoit sa face enluminee : Moult estoit bele et coloree. Les oels ot vair, boce riant, Le cors bien faict et avenant ; Les levres avoit vermelletes, [one Line wanting in the MS.] Boce bien faite por baisier, Et bras bien fais por embracer. Mains ot blances com flors de lis, Et la gorges, desous le vis. Cors ot bien fait, et le cief blont ; Onques si bele n'ot el mont. Ele estoit d'un samit vestue, Onques si bele n'ot sous nue, La pene en fu moult bien ouvree D'ermine tote eschekeree ; Moult sont bien fait li esehekier, Li orles fu mout a prisier ; Et deriere ot ses crjns jetes ; D'un ill d'or les ot galones. De roses avoit i capel Moult avenant et gent et bel ; D'un afremail son col frema, Quant ele ens el palais entra. Molt i ot gente damoisele, Onques nus horn ne vit tant bele. La dame entre el palais riant, Al Desconneu vint devant . . There is a further description of her in her cemise at p. 84-5. — F. 4 la dame damore. — Cot. la dame Amoure. — Lam. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 471 tliat hee wold lier succour 1512 against that ffeend to flight. into the chamber shee him ledd, & in purple & pall shee him cledd, & in rich rOyall weede ; 1516 & profferred him with honor ffor to be lord of towne & tower, & her owne selfe to meede. who clothes him in purple, and offers him her lands and herself. Sir Lybius ffrened ! her in hast, 1520 & loue to her anon he cast, ffor shee was ffaire and sheene. alas, that hee had not beene chast ! ffor afterwards att the Last 1524 shee did him betray & teene. 2 12 monthes and more Sir Lybius tarryed thore, 3 & ms mayden with renowne, 1528 that he might neuer out scape ffor to helpe & ffor to wrake 4 the Ladye of Sinadone ; He gives her his love, but she betraj's him at last. Lybius stays twelve months there, ffor that ffaire Lady 1532 told 5 more of Sorcery then such other fliue ; shee made him great melodye, of all manner of minstrelsye 1536 that any man cold discreeue. beguiled by the Lady's sorcery, 1 asked. — P. grantede. — Cot. 2 enrage, vex, grieve, G-l. ad G-.D. N.B. This does not appear from any- thing which follows in this Ballad : un- less it be her detaining him by her enchantments in these stanzas. —P. 3 there : so in Chauc. — P. The French Romance keeps Lybius only a night in the castle. The Lady comes to him in her chemise, leans on his breast : Ses mameles et sa poitrine Furent blances comme flors d'espine; Se li ot desus son pis mis. (p. 85-6.) She desires his love. He wants to kiss her, but she draws back, as that would be lechery till he had married her, and leaves his room. He lias led dreams, thinking he holds her all nijrht in his arms, and next morning he resolutely rides away, but returns after freeing the Lady of Sinadowne. — F. 4 wreak, i.e. revenge. — P. 5 for cold, knew. — F. 472 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. for, when looking on her, he thinks himself in Paradise. 1540 when he looked on her fface, him thought certainlye that hee was in paradice aliue, with ffantasye and fayrye ; & shee bleared his eye with ffalse sorcerye. [The Seventh Part.] At last, Hellen meets him, and reproaches him with his faithlessness to Arthur and the Lady of Sinadon. Lybius is touched to the heart, and they ride off that night. Lybius 1548 7'! Parte. i makes Sir Geffelett his steward, till itt beffell vpon a day 1544 ne niett with Ellen that may betwene the Castle and the tower Then vnto him shee gan say, " thou art ffalse of thy ffay l vnto King Arthur ! ffor the loue of that Ladye that can soe much curtesye, thou doest thee dishonor ! 1552 My Ladye of Sinadon may long lye in prison, & that is great dolour ! " Sir Lybius hard her speake, 1556 him thought his hart wold breake ffor sorrow & ffor shame, att a posterne there beside by night they gan out ryde 1560 ffrom that gentle dame. hee tooke with him his good steede, his sheeld & his best weede, & rode fforth all in- same ; 1564 & the 2 steward stout in ffere, he made Mm his Squier, Sir Geffelett 3 was his name. [page 338] 1 faith.— P. 2 Her.— Cot. Hir. -Lam. Gyfflet— Cot. Gurflete.— Lam. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 473 they rode fforth on tlieir way, 1568 but lightly on their Iourney, on bay horsses and browne ; till itt beffell vpon a day they saw a Citye ffaire and gay, 1572 men call itt Sinadowne, 1 with a Castle hye & wyde, and pauillyons of much pride that were of ffaire ffashyon. 1576 then said Sir Lybius " I haue 2 great wonder of an vse that he saw 3 in the towne ; " and they ride on till they see Sina- downe. Lybius asks why they are they gathered dirt & mire ffull ffast 1580 -which beffore was out cast, 4 they gathered in I- wis. Sir Lybius said in hast, " tell me now, mayd chast, 1584 what betokeneth this ? they take in all their hore 5 that was cast out beffore ! methinke they doe amisse." 1588 then sayd Mayd Ellen, " Sir Lybius, without Leasing I will tell thee why itt is. "there is no 'King soe well arrayed, 1592 tho he had before payd, that there shold take ostell, 6 ffor a dread of a steward that men call Sir Lamberd ; 1596 he is tbe constable of the Castle. drawinginto the city the dirt that was before cast out of it: What does it mean ? Hollen answers that no one can lodge there f i ir fear of Sir Lamberd. 1 synadowne. — Cot. Lam. La Cite Gaste is the French name of Sinadowne ; but this preliminary castle is called Galigans. — F. 2 He had (or), s i S ee.— P. The Cotton MS. reads : But lybeaus desconus VOL. II. ! 1 He hadde wondere of an vus K't he saw do yn toune. 4 For gore, and fen, and full wast, That there was out y-kast. — Cot. 5 Sax. horh, fimus, scrota, phlegma. limns, liens. Vbc. — I*. 6 Fr. hostel, hospitium, Domus. — P. 474 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. If Lybius asks for lodging, Lamberd will joust with Mm ; 1600 but ride into the Castle gate, & aske thine inne theratt both ffaire and well ; & or he bidd thee nede, lusting he will thee bedd, by god & by S* Michaell ! and if Lamberd wins, all the people in the town will throw dirt on Lybius ; and unless he fights, he'll be called a coward. " & if he beare thee downe, 1604 his trumpetts 1 shalbe bowne, their beaugles 2 ffor to blow ; then ouer all this towne, both mayd & garsowne 3 1608 but dirt on thee shall thro we ; & but thou thither wend, vnto thy Hues end cowarde thou shalt be know ; 1612 & soe may King Arthur losse all his great honor for thy deeds slowe ! " Lybius says he'll fight Lamberd and free the lady. He and his squire ride to the Castle, Sir Lybius sayd, " that were despite ! 1616 thither I will goe ffull tyte, if I be man on liue ; ffor to doe Arthurs delight, & to make that Lady quite, 1620 to him I will driue. Sir Geffelett, make thee ready, & lett vs now goe hastilye, anon that wee were bowne." 1624 they rode fforth on their gate till they came 4 to the Castle gate That was of great renowne, [page 339] 1 Trumpetters. — P. 2 bugles, hunting horns ; from bugle, a wild bull, Lye. — P. 3 Fr. Gargon, Boy.— P. 4 cane in the MS.— F. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 475 & there they asked Ostell 1628 in that ffaire Castell ffor a venturous knight, the porter ffaire & well lett them in ffull snell, 1632 & asked anon- right, "who is jour gouernor ? " they sayd, " King Arthur, a man of much might. 1636 to be a king he is worthye, he is the mower of Chiualrye, his ffone to ffell in flight." and ask for lodging. The porter asks who their Governor is. "King Arthur, the flower of chivalry ! " the porter went without Sable 1640 to his lord the Constable, & this tale him told : " Sir, without any ffable, of Arthurs round table 1644 be comen 2 knights bold, the one is armed ffull sure With rich & royall armoure, with 3 Lyons of gold." 1648 the hord was gladd & blythe, & said to them ffull swythe, lust with them hee wold : The porter tells Lamberd that two of Arthur's knights have come. Lamberd says they " bidd them make them yare l 1652 into the ffeeld ffor to ffare without the Castle gate." the porter wold not stent, 2 but euen anon went 1656 to them lightly e att the yate, & sayd anon-rightes, " yee aduenturous knights, arc to get ready to fight. The porter tells them 1 ready, Sax. Gearwe. — P. se gearwa, Bosworth. — F. i i 2 2 stint, stop. — P. 476 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. ffor nothing that yee Lett ; 1660 Looke jouy sheelds be good & strong, & yowr speres good and long, sheild, plate, & Basnett, to ride into the field, and his lord will fight them. They ride in, and wait for Lamberd, " & ryde yon into the ffeild ; 1664 my Lord with speare and sheild anon with yon will play." Sir Lybins spake words bold, & said, " this tale is well told, 1668 & pleasant to my pay. 1 " into the feld the rode, & boldlye there abode in their best array. 2 1672 S[ir] Lamberd armed ffnll weele both in Iron and in Steele that was both stont & gay ; whose shield is black, his armour too. Two sqnires attend him, his sheeld was snre & ffine, 1676 3 bores heads was therin as blacke as brond brent, 3 the bordnre was of rich armin, — there was none soe qnent 4 a ginn 5 1680 ffrom Carlile into Kent, — & of the same paynture was his paytrell & his armonre. in lande where ener he went, 1684 2 sqniers with him did ryde, & bare 3 speares by his side to deale with donghtye dint. 1688 then that stont stewared that hiaht Sir Lamberd 1 liking.— P. 2 As best bro3t to bay.— C. As bestis brought to baye.- -Lam. 3 i. e. burnt brand. — P. 4 quent, queint. — P. 5 gimie, trick, contrivance. — P. LIBIUS DISCONIDS. 477 armed him ffull well & brig-lit, & rode into the ffeild ward — ffeircely as any Libbard — 1692 there abode him that knight. him tooke a speare of great shape ; l he thought he came to Late, when he him saw with sight, 1696 soone he 2 rode to him that stond With a speare that was round, as a man of much might. and he rides into the field as fierce as a leopard. Lybius charges him, Either smote on others sheeld 1700 that the peeces ffell in the ffeild of theire speares long, euery man to other tolde " that younge K.night is ffull bold." 1 704 to him with a speare he fflounge ; Sir Lamberd did stifflye ssitt ; he was wrath out of his witt ffor Ire and ffor teene, 3 [page 340] 1708 & sayd, " bring me a speare ! ffor this Knight is not to Lere, soone itt shalbe seene." 4 and both shatter their spears. then they tooke shaftes round, 1712 with crownalls sharpe ground, & ffast to-gether did run ; either proued other in that stond to give either theire deaths wound, 1716 with harts as ffeirce as any Lyon. Lamberd smote Sir Lybius thoe that his sheeld ffell him ffroe They charge again with fresh spears. Lamberd knocks Lybius's 1 He smote hys schaft yn grate. — C. He sette his shelde in grate. — Lam. 2 Lybeauus. — C. Lybeons — Lam. 3 anger, madness, vexation.- -P. He cryde, "Do come a schaft! 3yf artours knyjt kan craft, Now hyt schalle be sene.- straugerc Cot. 478 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. shield on the ground, into the ffeild a-downe ; 1720 Sir Lamberd him soe hitt that vnnethes l hee might sett vpright in his arsowme, 2 and nearly unhorses him. Lvbius cuts off Lamberd's helm, and makes him rock in his saddle like a child in a cradle. his shaft brake with great power. 1724 Sir Lybius hitt him on the visor that of went his helme bright ; the pesanye, 3 ventayle, 4 & gorgere, 5 with the helme fflew fforth in fere, 1728 & Sir Lamberd vpright sate rocking 6 in his sadle as a chyld in a cradle without maine & might. 1732 euery man tooke other by the lappe, & laughed and gan their hands clappe, barron, Burgesse, and K.night. Lamberd gets another helm, and they charge again. Lybius Sir Lamberd, he thought to sitt bett ; 1736 another helme he made to ffett, 7 & a shaft ffull meete. & when they together mett, either other on their helmes sett 1740 strokes grim & great. then Sir Lamberds speare brast, & Sir Lybius sate soe ffast 1 scarcely. — P. 2 saddle. — P. arscran. — C. 3 pysane. — C. pesanie. — Lam. In The Anturs of Arther, st. xlv. ed. Rob- son, p. 21, is: He girdus to Syr Gauane Throjhe ventaylle and jnisane ; on which Dr. Eobson observes, p. 99, " This was either the Gorget or a substi- tute for it. In the Acts of Parliament of Scotland (anno 1429) vol. ii. p. 8, it is ordered that every one worth 20/. a year, or 100/. in moveable goods, ' be wele horsit and haill enarmyt as a gen- till man ancht to be. And uther sym- pillare of X lib. of rent, or L lib. in glides haif hat, gorgeat or pesaune, with rerebrasares, vambrasares, and gluffes of plate, breast plate, and leg splentes at the lest, or better gif liim likes. '"• — F. 4 auentayle. — C. ventail, The Part of the Helmet which lifts up. Johns. — P. 5 Gorgere, id. ac Gorget. The Piece of Armo«r which defends the throat. Johns.— P. s One stroke too many in this word in the MS.— P. 7 fett, fetch.— P. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 479 in tlio saddle there hee l sett, 1744 that they Constable Sir Lamberd ffell of his horsse backward, soe sore they there inett. 1748 1752 1756 1760 1764 1768 1 Sir Lamberd was ashamed sore. Sir Lybius asked if he wold more. 2 he answered and said " nay ! ffor sithe that euer I was bore, saw I neuer here beffore none ryde soe to my pay ! by the faith that I am in, thou art come of Sir Gawayines kin, thou 3 art soe stout and gay. if thou wilt flight ffor my Ladye, welcome thou art to mee, by my troth I say ! " Sir Lybius sayd, " sikerlye I will flight for my Ladye ; 4 I promised soe to ~King Arthur ; but I ne wott how ne why who does her that villanye, ne wbat is her dolor ; but this maid that is her mesenger, certes has brought me here her ffor to succour." Sir Lamberd said in that stond "welcome, Sir ~K.night of the table round, into my strong tower ! " then mayd Ellen anon-rightes was ffeitched fforth with 5 K.nightB unhorses Lamberd, and asks him if he wants any more. "No," says Lamberd, "you must be of Gawaiiie's blood ; will you fight for my lady ? " " Certainly I will. Hellen has brought me here to help her." Lamberd welcomes him to his tower. 1 One stroke too many in this word in the MS.— F. 2 The French omits this question ; makes Lampars go to Lybius and say : " Sire," fait-il, " ca, descendes ; Par droit aves l'ostel conquis ; Vos l'aueres a vo dens," then embrace Hellen or Hllic, and ask her what she did (at Arthur's court). — F. 3 A letter is crossed out at the end of this word in the MS. — F. 4 ffey3te y schalle for a lady. — 0. ffyght y shall for thy ladye. — Lam. 480 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. Hellen and the Dwarf are fetched in, and relate Lybins's adventures. bcflbre Sir Lamberd. sliee & the dwarffe by-deene told of 6 battells ! keene 1776 that lie had done thitherward the sayd that Sir Lybius then had ffought with, strong men, & beene in stowers hardye. 1780 then they were glad & blythe, & thanked god alsoe sithe 2 tit at he were soe mighty e. Lybius and Lamberd talk of old heroes. Lybius asks what knight has im- prisoned the Lady of Sinadowne. they welcomed him with mild cheere, 1784 & sett them to supper with much mirth and game. Sir Lybius & Sir Lamberd in ffere of ancyents that beffore were 1788 talked both in 3 -same. Sir Lybius sayd, " with- out ffable, 4 tell me now, Sir Constable, what is the 'Knights name 1792 that hath put in prison my Ladye of Sinadon that is soe gentle a dame ? " [page 341] : No knight; but two clerks, sorcerers, named Sir Lamberd said, " soe mote I gone, 1796 Knights there beene none that dare her away Lead ; 2 Clarkes beene her ffone, ffull ffalse in body & in bone, 1800 that hath done this deed. they be men of Masterye their artes ffor to reade of Sorcerye"; 1 Tolde seven dedes. — Cot. 2 fele syde.— C. fele sythe. • Swithe' is quickly. — F. 3 im in the MS.— F. -Lam. 4 There is none of this in the French. — F. LIBIUS DISCOMUS. 481 ]\Iabam l the hight one in deede, 1804 & Iron night the other verelye, 2 cla[r]ckes 3 of Nigromancye, of them wee haue great dread. Mabam and Iron, necro- mancers, " this Mabam & Irowne 1308 haue made in the towne a palace of quent gin 4 ; there is no Erie ne barron that has hart as Lyon 1812 that dare come therin ; itt is all of the ffaierye wrought by Nigromancye, that wonder it is to winne. 1816 there they keepe in prison my Ladye of Sinadowne, that is of K.nights kinn. 5 have made a curious palace that no one dare enter, as it's wrought by necromancy; and there they keep the Lady of Sinadowne, "oftentimes wee her crye ; 1 820 ffor to see 6 her with eye, therto we haue no might, this Mabam & Iron trulye had sworene to death trulye 1824 her death ffor to dight, but if shee grant vntill ffor to do Mabams will, & giue him all her right 1828 of all that Dukedome ffayre, therof is my ladye heyre that is soe much of might. and will put her to death, unless she gives up her dukedom to Mabam. " shee is soe meeke & soe ffaire 1832 therfore wee be in dispayre 1 Syr Maboune.— C. 'syr Irayn hys broker. -Lam. 3 Clarkes.— P. 4 Curious contrivance. — P. -C. Irayne. 5 The n is made over an e, or vice versa, in the MS. — F. 6 A w follows and is crossed out. — F. 482 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. Lybius says that by Jcsus's help he'll cut off the heads of Mabam and Iron, and restore the lady to her rights. Then they sup; and many come to hear about Lybius, and listen to him. ffor tlic dolour that sliees in." then sayd Sir Lybius, " through the helpe of Iesus 1836 that Ladye I will winne ; & Mabam. & Iron, smite of there anon theire heads in that stoure, 1840 & wine that Lady bright, & bring her to her right with ioy & much honor." * then there was no more tales to tell 1844 in that strong Castle. to supp & make good cheere, 2 the Barrons & Burgesse all came to that seemlye hall 1848 ffor to listen & heare how Sir Lybius had wrought; & if the Knight were ought, his talking for to harke. 3 1852 they ffound them sitting in ffere talking, att their supper, of Kmghta stout and starke. 1 C. omits the next twelve lines, alters many before). — F. 2 Tho was no more tale (and I the Castell grete and smale, But stouped and made hym blythe. — Lam. 3 His crafte for to kythe. — Lam. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 483 [The Eighth Part.] [Of Lybius' s Adventures in Sinadowne, and how he conquers the Lady's Enchanters.] & after they went to rest, 1856 & tooke their likeing 1 as them list 2 in that Castell all night. On the morrow anon-right Sir Lybius was armed bright ; I860 ffresh he was to flight. Sir Lamberd led him algate 3 ga -parted right vnto f ne Castle gate ; open they were ffhll right ; 1 864 n0 raai1 dnrst him neere bringe fforsooth, with-out Leasing, Barron, Bnrgess, ne Knight, All go to bed. Next morning Lamberd takes Lybius to the castle gates, but no man dares go in with him. But turned home againe. 1868 S/r Grefnet his owne swaine 4 wold with him ryde, but Sir Lybius ffor certaine Sayd he shold backe againe, 1 1872 and att home abyde. Sir Gefflett againe gan ryde 5 with Sir Lamberd ffor to abyde ; & to Iesu christ they 6 cryed, 1876 ffor to send them tydings gladd of them that long had destroyed then 1 welthes wyde. His squire wants to, but Lybius forbids him. [page 342] All pray for the sorcerers' deaths. 1 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 2 J>o toke peye hare reste, In lykynge as hem leste. — C. Tho toke they ease and Keste, And lykynges of the beste. — Lam. 3 at all events, by all means.— P. The French makes Laapars describe to Lybius what he will see, and what he is to do, in la Cite Gaste, (p. 98- 100).— F. 4 youth, servant. Jan. — P. 5 The Cotton text makes Gefilett stop at the castle, 1. 1754. — F. 6 sc. the People. — P. 484 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. Lybius rides into the palace, sees horns, hears music, and sees a bright fire. Lybius rides farther in, Sir Lybius, K.night curteous, 880 rode into that proud palace, 1 & att the hall he light, trumpetts, homes, & shaumes 2 ywis he ffound beffore the hye dese, 3 1884 he heard, & saw with sight. a fFayre flyer there was stout & stowre in the midds of the flore, brening ffaire and bright. 4 1888 then ffurther in hee yeed, & tooke with him his steede that helped him to flight. and can see nothing but minstrels with their harps, &c, all playing, 1892 1896 1900 fFurthermore he began to passe, & beheld then euerye place all about the hall ; of nothing, more ne lesse, he saw no body that there was, but minstrells cladde in pall, with harpe, Sidle & note, 5 & alsoe wz'th Organ note, — great mirth they made all, — & alsoe fiddle and sautrye 6 ; soe much of minstrelsye ne say 7 he neuer in hall. and a torch before every man. Lybius can't find any one to fight, before euery man stood 1904 a torch fiayre and good, brening flull bright. Sir Lybius Euermore yode 8 ffor to witt 9 w/th Egar mood 1908 who shold with him flight. 1 The French text describes the palace, p. 101. — F. 2 shaumes, a Psaltery ; a Musical In- strume?;t like a Harp. Chau. Gl. — P. 3 Dese, Deis. The high table.— P. 4 Was ly3t & brende bry3t.— C. That tente and brende bright. — Lam. 5 rote. — C. lute and roote. — Lam. 6 a Psaltery, vid. Supra. — P. 7 saw. — P. 8 went. — P. 9 know.— P. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 485 1912 liee went into all the corners, & beheld the pillars that seemelye l were to sight : of Iasper ffine & Cristall, all was fflourished in the hall ; itt was ffull ffaire & bright. but only sees jasper pillars, the dores were all of brasse, 1916 & the windowes of ffaire glasse, that ymagyrye itt was drine. the hall well painted was ; noe ffairer in noe place ; 1920 maruelous ffor to descriue. hee sett him on the hye dese : then the minstrells were in peace that made the mirth soe gay, 1924 the torches that were soe bright were quenched anon-right, & the minstrells were all away ; the dores & the windowes all, 1 928 the bett 2 together in the hall as it were strokes of thunder ; the stones in the Castle wall about him downe gan ffall ; — 1932 thereof he bad great wonder ; — the earth began to quake, & the dese ffor to shake that was him there vnnder 3 ; 1936 the hall began for to breake, & soe did the wall eke, as they shold ffall assundcr. brass floors, &c, in the decorated hall. He sits on the dais, and at once the music stops, the torches go out, the minstrels vanish, the doors and windows clash together, all the stones of the wall fall down, tin 1 earth quakes, the hall and walls begin to crack. as he sate thus dismayd, 1940 he held himselfe betrayd. 1 In line 1910 in the MS.— F. They beat.— P. 3 there undo:'. — P. 486 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. Then he hears horses neigh. He says there's some one to fight, and sees two men of arms well arrayed. One rides into the hall, and tells Lybius he must fight them. Lybius is quite willing, mounts, then horses heard hee nay : to himselfe then he sayd, " now I am the better apayd, 1944 for yett I hope to play." hee looked fforth into the ffeild, saw there with speare and sheild ! men of armes tway, 2 1948 in purple & pale armoure well harnished in that stoure, with great garlands gay. The one came ryding into the hall, 1952 & to him thus gan call, " Sir ~Knight aduenturous ! such a case there is befall ; tho thou bee proude in pall, 1956 flight thou must with vs. I hold thee quent of ginne 3 if thou my Ladye winne 4 that is in prison." 1960 Sir Lybius sayd anon- right, "all ffresh I am ffor to flight, with the helpe of goddes sonne." Sir Lybyus with good hart 1964 ffast into the saddle he start ; in his hand a speare he hent, & ffeircly he rode him till, his enemyes ffor to spill ; 1968 ffor that was his entent. [page 343] 1 There is a stroke between the e and i in the MS.— F. 2 The French postpones the darkness, &c, and makes Lybius first see and fight a single knight (p. 103, Eurains lifers, p. 119), and put him to flight; then fight another (Mabons, p. 119), on a horse with a horn in his forehead, and fire shooting out of his nostrils, (p. 105-8). Then comes the darkness, and a horrible noise ; Lybius thinks of La Damoisdlc aux Nances mains, and commends himself to God; the Wivre (Lat. vi'pera') appears, comes near him, and kisses him; he is stupefied ; a voice tells him who he is ; he dreams ; and on waking sees the lovely Esmeree, who tells him her story. 3 clever of contrivance.— P. 4 wime MS.— F. LIBIDS DISCONIUS. but when they had together mett, either on others helme sett with speares doughtye dent. 1972 Mabam his speare all to-brast ; then was Mabam euill agast, & held him. shameffully shent. & with that stroke ffelowne ' 1976 Sir Lybius bare him downe ouer his horsse tayle ; ffor Mabams saddle arsowne brake there- with, & fell downe 1980 into the ffeild without ffayle. well nye he had him slone ; but then came ryding Iron In a good hawberke of mayle ; 1984 all ffresh he was to mght, & thought he wold anon-right Sir Lybius assayle. Sir Lybius was of him ware, 1988 & speare vnto him bare, & left his brother still, such a stroke he gaue hime thore that his hawberke all to-tore ; 1992 that liked him ffull ill. their speares brake in 2 ; swords gan they draw tho with hart grim and grill, 2 1996 & stiffly e gan to other ffight ; either on Other proued their might, eche other ffor to spill. 487 and charges. Mabam shivers his spear, and is cut over his horse's tail by Lybius, and nearly killed, but that Iron attacks Lybius, who rides at him, and rends his hauberk. They draw their swords, 2000 then together gan they hew. Mabam, the more shrew, 3 and hew at one another. 1 felon stroke, i.e. a murderous stroke. -P. 2 idem ac grisly. Gl. ad Ch. — P. 3 shrew, apud Chaucer est, a Villaim ; here it scorns to signify shrewd, cunning, artful.— P. 488 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. Mabam gets up, and attacks Lybius too, but he defends himself like a man. Mabam (t.i. Iron) chops off Lybius's steed's neck. Lybius cuts Iron's thigh in two, vp he rose againe ; he heard & alsoe knew Iron gaue strokes ffew ; 2004 therof he was not ffaine ; bnt to him he went ffull right ffor to helpe Iron to flight, & auenge him on his enemye. 2008 tho he were nener soe wroth, Sir Lybius fought against them both and kept himselfe manlye. when Mabam saw Iron, 1 2012 he flbught as a Lyon the ~kniglit to slay with wreake. beffbre his ffardar arsowne soone he earned then downe 2016 Sir Lybius steeds necke. Sir Lybius was a worthy warryour, & smote a 2 his thye 2 in that stoure, skine, 3 bone, and blood. 2020 then helped him not his clergye, neither his ffalse Sorcerye, 4 but downe he ffell with sorry moode. dismounts, and fights Mabam. The sparks fly. Sir Lybius of his horsse alight, 2024 with Mabam ffor to flight. in the ffeild both in ffere strong stroakes they gaue with might, that sprakeles 6 sprang out ffull bright 2028 ffrom helme and harnesse cleere. as either ffast on other bett, 6 both their swords mett, 1 Yrayn saw Mabonn. — Cot. Lam. 2 There is the long part of another /* in the MS.— F. 3 ? skime in the MS.— F. 4 po halp hym no3t hys armys, Hys chauntemerat, ne hys charmys. —Cot. Ne halpe hym not his Armour, His chauntemewts, ne his chambur. — Lam. 5 ? MS. spaakeles.— F. 6 did beat.— P. LIMITS DISCONIUS. 489 As yee may now heare. tpage 344] 2032 Mabam, that was the more shrew, the sword of Sir Lybius he did hew in 2 quite and cleare. then Sir Lybius was ashamed, 2036 & in his hart euis l agramed 2 ffor he had Lost his sword, & his steed was lamed, & he shold be defamed 2040 to 'King Arthur his lord, to Iron lithelye 3 he ran, & hent vp his sword then that sharpe edge 4 had & hard, 2044 & ran to Mabam right & ffast on him gan flight, & like a madman he flared. Mabam cuts Lybius' s sword in two. Lybius gets angry, catches up Iron's sword, runs to Mabam but euer then Bought Mabam, 2048 as he had beene a wyld man, Sir Lybius ffor to sloe, but Sir Lybius carued downe his sheild with that ffawchowne 2052 that he tooke Iron ffroe : true tale ffor to be told, 5 the left hand with the sheild away he smote thoe. 2056 then sayd Mabam him till " Sir ! thy stroakes beene ill ! gentle Knight, now hoe, G " & I will yeeld me to thee 2060 in lone and in Loyaltye and cuts off his shield and left hand. Mabam offers to surrender himself, 1 for euir, or evil. — F. sore. — Lam. Cot. omits it. — F. 2 agramed, displeased, grieved. Gl. ad Chauc. rather {agramed) angered. A.-S. Gram. Furor. Lye. — P. VOL. II. K K 3 lithely, gently, (nimbly). — P. 4 The d has two bottoms in the MS., or the. word is ridge. — F. 5 teld, rhythmi gratia. — P. 6 i. e. now stop. — P, 490 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. and to give up the Lady of Sina- downe, for Iron's sword was poisoned, and will kill him. att thine owne will, & alsoe that Lady ffree that is in my posstee, 1 2064 take her I will thee till ; ffror through that sh[r]ueed dint my hand I haue tint 2 ; the veinim will me spill ; 2068 fforsooth without othe I venomed them both, onr enemy es ffor to kill." Lybius refuses, calls on him to fight again, and then splits his head in two. Sir Lybins sayd, "by my thrifft 2072 I will not hane of thy gift ffor all this world to w[i]nn ! therfore lay on stroakes swythe ! the one shall cnt the other blythe 2076 the head of by the Chin 3 ! " then Sir Lybins and Mabam ffonght together ffast then, & lett ffor nothing againe ; 2080 that Sir Lybins that good rLnight earned his helme downe right, & his head in twayne. 4 1 poste, apud Chauc. est Power. Vid. Gl.— P. 2 lost.— P. 3 One stroke too many in the MS. — F. 4 The French adds (p. 108): Del cors li saut i fumiere, Qui molt estoit hideuse et fiere, Qui li issoit parmi la boce, &e. — F. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 491 [The Ninth Part.] [How Lybius disenchants and weds the Lady of Sinadowne.] JSTow is Mabam slaine ; & to Irora he went againe, with sword drawne to ffight ; ffor to haue Clouen his braine, 9'! Parte *( I tell you ffor certaine he went to him. ffull right ; but when he came there, 1 away he was bore, into what place he nist. 2 2092 he sought him fFor the nones 3 wyde in many woones 4 ; to ffight more him List. Lybius goes to kill Iron, but he has vanished, and can't be found. as he stood, & him bethought 5 2096 that itt wold be deere bought that he was ffrom him fare, ffor he wold with sorcerye doe much tormenrtye, 2100 & that was much care. he tooke his sword hastilye, & rode vpon a hill hye, Lybius thinks he may give him trouble. Lybius 1 thore — P. 2 MS. list. ? nist, knew not.— F. nyste. — Cot. nuste. — Lam. 3 the nones, or nonce, on purpose ; de industria. Jim. purposely. — P. 4 ivone, a house, habitation. — P. 5 Neither the French, nor Cot., nor Lam., has the seeing and slaying of the knight which follows here. Cot. reads : And whawne he ne fond hym no3t, He held hymself be-caujt, And gan to syke sarc, And seyde yn word and lx>u3t, " J>ys wyll be sore a-boujt \>at he ys \hus fram me y-fare." ^[ On kne hym sette Jwt gentyllc kny3t, And prayde to marie bry3t, t Keuere hym of hys care. For the last three lines, Lam. substi- tutes : " He will with sorcerye Do me tormentrye That is my mosto care." Sore he sat and sighte ; He muste whate do her myght ; He was of blysso all bare. (1. 2122-7 here).— F. K K 492 LIBIUS DISCONIUS. sees a knight in a valley, & looked round about. 2104 then lie was ware of [a] valley ; thitherward he tooke the way as a sterne "Knight and stout. rides to him, and cuts his head off, then comes back, and goes to the hall to look for the Lady of Sinadowne. He mourns, because he can't find her. as he rode by a riuer side 2108 he was ware of him that tyde vpon the riuer brimm : He rode to him ffull hott, & of his head he smote, 2112 ffast by the Chinn ; & when he had him slaine, ffast hee tooke the way againe for to haue that lady gent. 2116 as soone as he did thither come, of his horsse he light downe, and into the hall hee went & sought that ladye ffaire and hend, 2120 but he cold her not find ; therfor he sighed ffull sore. 1 still he sate moumi[n]g ffor that Ladye ffaire & young; 2124 for her was all his care ; he ne wist what he doe might ; but still he sate, & sore he sight, of Ioy hee was ffull bare. [page 345] A window opens, 2128 but as he sate in that hall, he heard a window in the wall, ffaire itt gan vnheld ; — great [wonder 2 ] there with-all 2132 in his hart gan ffall ; — as he sate & beheld, 1 sair. Scotice. — P. 2 fear or dread. — P. wonder. — Cot. wondyr.— Lam. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 493 a worme l out gan pace wi'tli a womans fface 2136 that was younge & nothing old. the wormes tayle 2 & her winges shone ffayre in all thinges, & gay ffor to beholde. and out creeps a worm (or serpent) with a young woman's face, shining wings, 2140 grisly e great was her taile, the clawes large without ffayle ; Lothelye 3 was her boclye. Sir Lybius swett for heate, 2144 there sate in his seate as all had beene a ffire him by. 4 then was Sir Lybius euill agast, & thought his body wold brast. 2148 then shee neighed him nere ; & or S/r Lybius itt wist, the worme with mouth him Kist, & colled about his lyre. 5 2152 & after that kissing, the wormes tayle & her wing big claws and tail, and a loathly body. It comes to Lybius, kisses him on the mouth, its tail and wings fall off, 1 Fr. wivre. Phillips gives " Wyver, the Name of a Creature little known otherwise than as it is painted in Coats of Arms and described by Heralds : ; Tis represented by Gwillim as a kind of flying Serpent, and so may be deriv'd from Vipera, as it were a winged Viper or Serpent ; but others will have it to be a sort of Ferret calPd Viverra in Latin." De Biauju's description of it may be compared with the English : A tant vit i aumaire ouvrir Et une Wivre fors issir, Qui jetoit une tel clarte Com i cierge bien enbrase. Tot le palais enluminoit, Une si grant clarte jetoit. Horn ne vit onques sa parelle, Que la bouce ot tot vermelle ; Parmi jetoit le feu ardent ; Moult par estoit hideus et grant ; Parmi le pis plus grosse estoit Que i vaissaus d'un mui ne soit ; Les iols avoit gros et luisans, Comme ii escarbocles grans; Contreval l'aumaire descent, Et vint parmi le pavement. Quatre toises de lone duroit, En la queue iii neus avoit. C'onques nus horn ne vit greignor, Ains Dius ne fist cele color, Qu'en li ne soit entremellee, Dessous sambloit estre doree. 110-11).— F. Hyre body. — Cot. Lam. 3 i.e. loathsome. — P. 4 Maad as he were. — C. As alle had ben in fyre. — Lam. 5 apud Scot, flesh. Apud Chaue. /ere is the Complexion or Air of the face. — P. Swyre. — Cot. Lam. CoU is to embrace; Fr. collee, an imbracing about the necke. Cotgrave. (PP 2 494 IJB1US DISCONIUS. and a lovely woman stands naked before him. She tells him he has slain two sorcerers, who turned her into a serpent till she should kiss Gawaine or one of his kin. ffell away her ffroe ; she was ffaire in all thing, 2156 a woman without Leasing ; fairer he saw neuer or thoe. 1 shee stood vpp al soe 2 naked as christ had her shaped. 2160 then was Sir Lybius woe. shee sayd, " god that on the rood gan bleed, Sir ~Knight, quitt thee thy meede, ffor thou my ffone wold sloe. 3 2164 " thou hast slaine now ffull right 2 clarkes wicked of might that wrought by the ffeende. East, west, north and south, 2168 they were masters of their mouth ; A many a man they haue shend. through their inchantment, to a worme the had me meant, 5 2172 ne woe to wrapp me in till I had k[i]ssed S/r Gawaine that is a noble ~K.night certaine, or some man of his kinn. 1 De Biauju sends her back into her cupboard after the kiss, stupefies Lybius, and reveals his name and parentage to him, — Giglains, son of Gauvains (Ga- waine), anilafSe as Blances Mains, then sends him to sleep, and on his waking shows him the lady at her toilet (p. 115), fairer than any one else in the world, except she of the Blances Mains (who excels Paris's Elaine, Isex la blonde, Bliblis, Lavine de Lombardie, and Morge la fee, (p. 152). This all takes place in Ullle de la Montbestee (p. 116); and the lady declares herself as the daughter of le bon roi Gringars. She narrates how Mabons and Eurains enchanted the 5000 inhabitants and made them destroy the city, and then turned her into a worm. Of the town she says : . . ceste ville par droit non Est appelee Senaudon ; Por ce que Mabons l'a gastee, Est Gastecit.es apelee. (p. 120.) But as the story has been sketched in the Introduction, I only note here that the lady's name, Blonde Esmeree, is not given till p. 130, when she is starting for Arthur's court. — F. 2 MS. alsoe.— F. 3 God yelde be dy whyle, \>at my fon \>o\i woldest slo. — Cot. God yelde the thi wille, My foon thou woldest sloo. — Lam. 4 Be wordes of hare mouthe. — Cot. With maystres of her mouthe. — Lam. 5 this word signifies mingled, mixed, ap? G. Doug. Chauc. &c. — P. To warme me hadde bey y-went In wo to welde and wend. — Cot. To a worme they had me went, In wo to leven and lende. — Lam. LIBITJS DISCOMUS. 495 2176 ffor l thoU hast saued my liffe, Castles 50 and 2 flme take to thee I will, & my selfe to be thy wiffe 2180 right without striffe, if itt be your will." 3 She promises Lybius fifty-five castles and herself as his wife. then was he glad & blythe, & thanked god often sythe 4 2184 That him that grace had sent, [page 346] & sayd, " my Lord 5 faire & ffree, all my loue I leaue with thee, by god omnipotent ! 2188 I will goe, my ~La,dye bright, to the castle gate ffull right, thither ffor to wend ffor to feitch jouv geere 2192 that yee were wont to weare, & them I will you send. Lvbius is blithe, and proposes to fetch the lady's clothes from the castle, " alsoe, if itt be yowr will, I pray you to abyde still 2196 till I come 6 againe." " Sir," shee said, " I you pray wend fforth on your way, 7 therof I am ffaine." if she will stay till he conies back. 2200 Sir Lybius to the castle rode, there the people him abode ; Lybius rides to the castle 1 because.— P. 2 MS. amd.— F. 3 3yf hyt ys artours wylle. — Cot. • And hit be Arthures will. — Lam. 4 Time — also, since, afterwards. Gl. Chauc. — P. Cot. has for this and the next sixteen lines: And lepte to horse swybe, And lefte bat lady stylle. But ener he dradde yrayn, For he was no3t y-slayn, "W7t A speche he wolde hym spylle. Lam. has nearly the same words, but omits the last line but one. — F. 5 Ladye.— P. 6 cone in MS.— F. 7 " I you pray " the writer of the MS. was going to repeat, and got as far as p : then he stopt, put in on after /, added r to yo u , and way to the j>, so that the words are " I on your pway." — F. 496 LIMITS DISCONIUS. and tells the people that Mabam and Iron are slain. to Iesn chr[i]st gaii they cr}*e ffor to send them ty dings glad 2204 of them that Long had done them tormentrye. Sir Lybins is to the Castle come, & to Sir Lamberd he told anon, 2208 and alsoe the Barronye, 1 how Sir Mabam was slaine & Sir Iron, both twayine, by the helpe of mild Marye. He sends a rich robe 2212 when that Knight soe keene had told how itt had beene to them all by-deene, a rich robe good & ffine, 2216 well ffurred with good Ermine, he sent that Ladye sheene ; and garlands to the lady , and all the people of Sinadowne go and fetch her home. They crown her, Kerchers and garlands rich he sent to her priniliche, 2 2220 that mayd ho wold home bring. 3 & when shee was readye dight, thither they went anon-right, both old and young, 2224 & all the ffolke of Sinadowne with a ffaire procession the Ladye home they ffett. & when they were come to towne, 2228 of precyous gold a rich crowne there on her head the sett. and thank God. they were glad and blythe, & thanked god often sithe 1 i. e. The Barrens collectively. — P. 2 i.e. privily. — F. 3 A-non without dwellynge. — Cot. A byrd hit ganne hir bringe. — Lam. LIBIUS DISCONIUS. 497 2232 that ffrom woe tliera had brought, all the Lords of dignity e did him homage and ffealtye, as of right they ought. 2236 they dwelled 7 dayes in the tower there Sir Lamberd was gouernor, with mirth, Ioy, and game ; & then they rode with honor 2240 vnto King Arthur, the Knights all in-same. ffins. 1 Lybius and the lady stay seven days there, and then ride off to Arthur. 1 It is so very wrong of the copier or translator to have broken off the story without giving the wedding between Lybius and his love, that I add it here from the three imprinted MSS. as well as the Cotton one. The Lincoln's Inn and Ashmole MSS. have more stanzas than the Cotton and Lambeth ones. Lincoln's Inn MS. Hale, IS'o. 150, art. ?'., last leaf. J>ay bonkyd god almy3t, BoJ?e Arthour and his kny^t, ]bat heo [ne] hadde* schame. Arthour 3af as blyue Libeus bat may to wyue bat was so gent a dame. beo murthe of beo brydale, Nomon con wib tale Telle hit in no geste. In bat semly sale Weore lordes monye and fale, And ladyes wel honeste. ber was ryche seruyse Bobe to fool and wyse, To leste and to meste. ber wan bay yche 3ifthes, [back of leaf] vche mynstral a ryjhtis, And somme bat weore vnprest. Sir Gawayn, kny3t of renoun, saide to beo lady of synaydoun, " Madame, treouely, he bat weddid be wib pruyde, y gat him by a forest syde On a gentil lady." Ashmole MS. 61, leaf 58b. They thankyd god of his myjhtes, Kynge Axthour And hys kny3htes, That sche had no schame. Arthozat stounde, And saide, kneoland on grounde, " for godis loue al weldand, tat made beo world so round, fayre fadir, or y fonde, hlesse me wif> byn hond." J?at hynde kny3t Gawayn blessyd beo child wij> mayn, And made him seoj^'e vp stande. he comaundyd kny3t and sweyn To clepe Libeus " Gengelayne," J^at was lord of lond. fourty dayes bay dwellyd, And heore feste faire heold wib Arthoure beo kynge. As beo gest vs tolde, Arthour wij> kny3tis bolde hom gonne bay brynge. twenty yere bay lyued in-same wib muehe gleo and game, he and bat swete J?yuge. Ihesu Cryst oure saueour, And his modir bat swete Hour, spede ts at our nede ! Explicit Lebiuws de-sconius [?MS.] (Ashmole MS. continue!. ) Thys is owre ehyld so fre." Than was he glad and blyth, And kyssed hym many A sythe, And seyd, " b«t lykes me." Syre gawen, kny3kt of renowne, Seyd to be lady of synadouw, " Madame, treuly Ho b«t hath be wedyd with pride, Y gate hym vnd[er] A forest syde Offagentylllady." Than hat lady was blyth, And thankyd hym many A syth, And kyssed hy;« sykerly. Than lybeus to hym wan, And her he kyssed hat man ; Fore soth treuly He fell on kneys in b«t stourod, lybeus knelyd on be grouwd, And seyd, "fore god All weldingc That made be werld rownd, Feyre fader, wele be 3e fownd! Blysse me with }our blyssynge ! " That hend kny3ht gawene Blyssed hys sone with mayne, And made hym vp to stond, And comandyd kny3ht and sweyne To calle hym gyngelyane, That was lorde of lond. Forty deys her they duellyd, [i ea f 596.] And grete fest bei held With Kvthour be kynge. As be gest hath told, Arthour with knyjhtes bold Home gane hym brynge. X 3ere )>ei lyued in-same With mekyll gle and game, He and that suete thynge. Ihesu cryst owre snwyour, And his moder hat suete floure, To heuene blys vs brywge ! Here endes he lyfe — Y telle 30W witk-outen stryfe — Off gentyll libeus disconews. Fore his saule now byd 3e A pater noster And An Aue, Fore be loue off Ihesws, That he of hys sawle haue pyte, And off owrys, iff hys wyll be, When we schall wend her-to. And 3e bat haue herd hat talkynge, 3e schall haue be blyssinge Of Ihesu cryst All-so. [Finis.] LIBIUS DISOONIUS. 499 Cotton, Calig. A. ii.fol. 57, col. 2. And bonkede godes urates, Artoure and hys kny3tes, pat he ne hadde no schame. Artoure yaf here al so * blyue, Lybeauus to be hys wyfe, pat was so gentylle a dame. pe Ioye of b«t bredale Nys not told yn tale, Ne rekened yn no gest. Barons and lordynges fale Come to bat semyly sale, And ladyes welle honeste. per was ryche seruyse Of alle bat men koub deuyse, To lest & ek to mest. pe menstrales yn boure & hallo Hadde ryche yftes wz't/i-alle, And bey \>at weryn vnwrest. Fourty dayes tey dwellede And hare feste helde With artoure be kyng. As be frenssche tale teld, Artoure with kny3tes held At horn gan hem brynge. Fele 3ere bey leuede yn-same With moche gle & game, Lybeauus & b«t swete by n g- Ihesu cryst oure sauyoure, And hys modere bat swete floure, GraiiMte vs alle good endynge. Amen. Explicit libeauus desconus. Lambeth MS. 306, leaf 106. Tbey thanked god with al his myghtw, Arthur and alle his knyghu's, That he hade no shame. Arthur gave als blyve Lybeous that lady to wyfe, That was so gentille a dame. The myrro? Then answers Cadmus : &dpy](Tov avrb Ka\ aa sUe is " Phillis noe, Phillis noe ! 12 but if shee proue light in loue, He let her goe." thus wee poore mayds must beare the blame, w7wck 2 inconstant men deserue the same. if ought be ill, tis our amisse, 16 but a womans word is noe iudge in this. " Come away ! Come away ! Come and look at her. see ! the louely e lasse tripp's ore the lay." " lett her goe ! lett her goe ! « Xot Xi let 20 neuer more shall my loue say mee noe. ; ' her go. 1 The first I is much like an s in the those of the MS. Before the first La MS. The colons in lines 2 and 3 are Percy inserts hoe. — F. 2 while. - P. i. i. 2 508 nilLLTS HOE. She wouldn't kiss me I" 24 " ffye shepard ! thou thy loue dost wrong ! ffor maides, the dare not doe amidst a throng." " O, beg I did but one pore kisse ; but shee with coy disdaine said noe by Iys. l " Don't be jealous, " Ielous loue, Ielous loue, herafter doth vnconstant proue." " many ffind, 2 many ffind 28 women & their words are like the winde. men sweare the loue, & do protest ; but when a woman sweares, shee doth but lest. who Iestes with loue, playes with a bayte 32 that doth wound the hart with slye deceipte." love your love again ; women must have their way. " Shepards swaine, Shepards swaine, let thy lasse inioy thy loue againe ! Iff maids pray, if maids pray, 36 women in their wants will haue noe nay ; thus women they must learne to wooe, when men fforgetts what nature bidds them do." " if women wooe, tis much abuse, 40 tho cuningly they coyne 3 a coy excuse." "No, I'm not such a fool. We shep- herds are as coy as kings." " Haples shee, hapless shee that doth loue 4 soe base a swaine as thee ! " " happy e I, happye I : 44 that ffortune haue such ffolly for to fflye ! base minds to basenes still will fflee, but honor in an honored hart doth lye. tho base, my mind true honor brings ; ffins. 48 [w]ee shepards in our loues are as coy as Kings." 1 noe Iwis. — P. 2 There is a tag to the d. — F. 8 MS. coyme.— F. 4 Three strokes for the u- 509 #uj) & Coldmintie : l [In 3 Parts.— P.] " Guy & Piiillis " is simply a resume, with some slight additions from other sources, of the old romance of Guy of Warwick ; " Guy & Amaranth " and " Guy & Colbrand " are versions, one modern, by Samuel Eowlands, the other much older, of scenes in that romance. The presence in the MS. Folio of three pieces dealing with Sir Guy is a sign of the immense popularity he enjoyed, if any sisn were needed. But indeed there is no lack of evidence of his warm acceptance with the Middle Ages as well in foreign countries as in England. Certainly among the heroes of romance he was one of the most popular. At home, Arthur, and Sir Bevis, and he, surpassed all others in the extent and endurance of the admiration they attracted. There is nothing more touching anywhere than the story of the last moments of Guy. Such was its intrinsic interest, that it won the ear of the world solely on the strength of it ; for the story seems never to have been worthily told. Not one of the three poems treasured up in the Folio is of any considerable literary value. Nor can higher praise be bestowed on the old romance. " Guy of Warwick," says Ellis, " is certainly one of the most ancient and popular, and no less certainly one of the dullest and most tedious of our early romances." Dull and tedious it emphatically is. This jewel then has never yet been skilfully set. But its preciousness was appreciated in spite of the rude craftsmen into whose hands it 1 A curious old Song, but very incorrect.— P. 510 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. had fallen. Its lustre glorified its clumsy encasements as the beauty of the beggar-maid her unworthy dress. As shines the moon in cloudy skies She in her poor attire was seen. The oldest form in which we have the story is that of an Anglo- Norman romance, Romanz de Grui de Warwyk, extant, as Ritson informs us, in the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge (1. 6), and in the University Library (More 690), Harl. MSS. No. 3775, King's MSS. 8 F. ix. There are two fragments of it in the Bodleian (printed in the British Bibliographer, iii. 268 ; see Introduction to the Abbotsford Club edition of the copy of the English romance in the Auchinleck MS.). Other fragments were found in the cover of an old book by Sir Thomas Phillips. There is also a copy in the Bibl. Imperial e (MSS. de Colbert, 4289), Paris. There was a copy at Bruges in 1467, at Brussels in 1487, as we learn from Barrois' account of the Librairies du Fils du Eoi Jean Charles V., &c. (See Gruy de Warwick, Abbotsford Club, Introduction.) This French work was com- posed probably in the thirteenth centmy. Its composer may possibly have been Walter of Exeter, as is stated by Carew in his Survey of Cornwall. Whoever composed it, and wherever, it was done into English early in the fourteenth century, which English version is mentioned in the Prologue to Hampole's Speculum Vitw, or Mirrour of Life, written about 1350, amongst the popularities of the day : I warne you firste at the begynnynge That I will make no vayne carpynge Of dedes of armes, ne of amours, As does mynstellis & gestours, That maketh carpynge in many a place Of Octavione & Isenbrace, And of many other gestes And namely when they come to festes, Ne of the lyf of Bevis of Hamptoune That was a knyght of grete renoune, Ne of Syr Gye of Warwyke. (apud Warton, II. Eng. P.) GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 511 and by Chancer in the Rime of Sir Topas (about 1380) as one of the romances of price of his day. Of it the oldest copy extant is preserved in the Auchinleck MS. There are others in Caius College and the Public Libraries, Cambridge. It was still in demand in the sixteenth century, and was then printed by Copland, and by Cawood. The romance was then condensed, as was the custom, into a ballad. In 159^ Kichard Jones has entered on the Kegister of the Stationers' Company " A pleasante songe of the valiant actes of Gray of Warwicke to the tune of Was ever man so tost in love." This is the " Guy & Phillis " of the present volume. The common title, says Percy, is " A pleasant song of the valiant deeds of chivalry atchieved by that noble knight Sir Guy of Warwick, who for the love of fair Phelis became a hermit & dyed in a cave of craggy rocke, a mile distant from Warwick." Of this ballad there are copies in the Bagford, the Pepys, and the Eoxburghe Collections. The legend was after- Avards rendered into prose, and in that shape printed again and again down to very recent times. In the British Museum Library there is a copy of the 7th edition of a cheap printed prose version, 1733. Ellis speaks of this popular form as "to be found at almost every stall in the metropolis." The Anglo-Norman ro- mance was converted into prose in 1525. But the story was not given up wholly to the romance-writers and their followers. The oldest other recital of it now extant may possibly be that ascribed to Gerard of Cornwall, printed by Hearne in the Appendix to his edition of the Annates de Dn in- stable. This Historia Guidonis de Werwyke is preserved in MS. 147, Magd. Coll. Oxford. " There is not however anything else of Gerard's in the Magd. MS. (which the compiler has seen), and the short piece which has been printed is written at the end of Higden's Polychronicon, on the same page with it, and preceding its copious index." (See Macray's Manual of British Historians.) Of Gerard's date and life nothing whatever is 512 GUY" AND COLEBRANDE. known. " He is said to have written a book De Gestis Britonum, and another De Gestis Regum West-Saxonum, which are referred to three times by Th. Eudburn in his History of Winchester. Thin also mentions him in his catalogue of historians in Holinshed, p. 1590." This piece, whenever written and by whomsoever, describes the famous fight with Colbrand much as the Folio MS. version narrates it. An entry in the Kegistry of the priory at Winchester, quoted by Warton in his History of English Poetry, tells us that when Adam de Orleten, bishop of Winchester, visited his cathedral priory of St. Swithin in that city, " Cantabat jocu- lator quidam, nomine Herebertus, Canticum Colbrondi, necnon gestum Emme regine, a judicio ignis liberate in aula prioris." The first certain historical mention of the great Saxon champion is to be found, as Kitson points out, in the Eobert de Brunne's translation with additions, made circ. 1338, of Peter Langtoft's Chronicle, written circ. 1308. That was Guy of Warwik, as the boke sais, There he slouh Colbrant with hache Daneis. The story of Guy's abnegation of his wife, and his lonely uncom- forted end in the cell he had hewn for himself, is told in chapter clxxii. of the Gesta Romanorum, compiled in all probability about the same time with Langtoft's Chronicle. This compilation, made to serve mediaeval preachers for purposes of illustration, naturally took that part of the story that exemplified their favourite teachings. Towards the end of the same, the fourteenth century, Henry Knighton, Canon of Leicester, in his Chronicon de Eventibus Anglice ab anno 950 ad 1395, recounted the old tale at full length. He introduces it with a sort of apology. " Set quia historia dicti Guidonis," he writes, " cunctis seculis laudabili memoria commendanda est, in presenti historia immiscere curavi." Then he relates, with circumstances, how " Olavus rex Dacise," " Golanus rex Norwegiae," and " dux Neustria?," invaded England and besieged King Athelstan for a space of two years GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 513 in Winchester. They had enlisted in the service of their expe- dition a vast Saracen, " de Africa quendam gigantem, Colebrandnm nomine, qui eo tempore fortissimus et elegantissimus reputabatur in orhe," described subsequently as " diabolicse staturse," and by Guy when he stands face to face with him as " non homo, immo potius spiritus diaboli in effigie hominis latens." Eventually a truce, " treuga," was agreed to, and the determining of the war by a single combat. But there seemed scant hope of finding a match for Colebrand, who was of course put forward to maintain the Scandinavian cause. Then follows, as in "Guy& Colbrand," an account of the vision that appeared to the perplexed King Athelstan, and how, obeying it, and posting himself " ad altam primam " at one of the city's gates, he saw amongst the entering crowd " virum elegantem cursantem, de una sclauma alba vestitum, et unum sertum de albis rosis in capite tectum, fustemque grandem in manu ferentem ; set multum erat debilitatus et discoloratus anxietateque minoratus, eo quod nudipes laboravit, barbamque prolixam habuit." This wild woe-begone figure was Guy — Guy in deep distress for his sins, and caring only to escape from hos- pitalities to pray for indulgence and pardon. But he is moved at last to undertake the combat with the giant. " Fecit se armari de melioribus armaturis regis, et cinxit se gladio Constantini [the sword of Constantine the Great and the spear of Charlemagne were among the presents given to Athelstan by Hugh, Duke of the Franks] lanceamque sancti Mauricii in manu tulit." Then the fight is described with extreme minuteness. Colbrand seems overpowering till Gruy cuts off his sword-arm ; " Quod Dani videntes, multum ex hoc contabuerunt, et Deos suos in Colu- brandi adjutorum cum ejulatu magno invocare cceperunt." And then comes the final scene in the hero's life. In 1410, as Dugdale (Baron, i. 243) relates on the authority of Rous, to whom we shall come presently, Guy's fame was well spread abroad at Jerusalem ; for the Soldan's lieutenant hearing 514 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. that Lord Beauchamp, then travelling in the Holy Land, " was descended from the famous Guy of Warwick, whose story they had in books of their own language, invited him to his palace ; and royally feasting him presented him with three precious stones of great value, besides divers cloaths of silk and gold given to his servants." The history of Sir Guy, as Percy points out (Reliques, vol. iii.), "is alluded to in the old Spanish romance, ' Tirante el bianco ' which, it is believed, was written not long after the year 1430." About the middle of the fifteenth century Rudburn, who has been mentioned above in a quotation, a Benedictine of Winchester, called Junior to distinguish him from another chronicler of the same name who died Bishop of St. David's in 1441, gives some account of the great combat. Leland in his Collectanea, fol. 595, quotes "ex chronicis Thomse Eudbourne monachi Wintonensis " this amongst other passages : " Tertio Ethelstani anno, duellum inter Colbrondum Danum & Guidonem comitem de Warwik, extra borealem civitatis Wintoniensis pla- gam, in loco qui modo Hidemede, olim Denmarsch appellatus est, prope monasterium de Hida. Insigiram vero victorise servatur sica praedicti Colbronde gigantis, cumqua truncatum erat ; caput ejus a Guidone comite de Warwik in eccl. cathedrali Wintonise usque in hodiernum diem. 1 Eudbourne describes the fight more fully in his Historia Major Wintonensis (apud Wharton's Anglia Sacra). There the " Eex Dacorum " is " Anelaf;" the scene of the combat is Hyde Mede ; the " gigas " is " mirse longitudinis, invisus, inhumanus ac non mala? meditationis ignarus." Lydgate, contemporary with Eudbourne, versified the above-mentioned His- toria Guidonis de Werwyhe just as Samuel Eowland, something more than a century after him, retold the conflict of Guy with Amaranth in the form given in this volume. Lydgate's work, never yet printed, is preserved among the Bodleian MSS. and ' "This history remained in rude transept of the cathedral till within painting against the walls of the north my memory." Warton, H. E. P. GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 515 in Harl. MS. 7333 f. 35. b. 1 Eevised by one Lane, it was licensed to be printed in 1617 (Harl. MSS. 5243), 1 but the licence seems never to have been acted upon. Later on, in the latter half of the fifteenth century, John Eous, appointed priest, or one of the two priests, at the chapel at Guy's Cliff near Warwick (erected, with a statue of Guy, by Richard Beauchamp in 1422), " labored and finished " a " roll " (now in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, numbered 839) containing a biography of him in whose honour he held his office, for whose soul he offered daily prayers. Dugdale pronounces him " a diligent searcher after antiquities, and especially of this county," and one that " hath left behind him divers n-otable things, industriously gathered from many choice manuscripts, whereof he had perusal in sundry monastries in England and Wales, which now, through the fatal subversion of those houses, are for the most part perisht." Rous narrates as sober facts the story of the romance : Dame Felys, daughter and heireto Erie Rohand, for her beauty called Eelyle belle, or Felys the fayre by true enheritance, was countesse of Warwyke, and lady and wyfe to the most victoriouse Knight, Sir Guy, to wkome in his woinge tyme she made greate straungenes, and caused him for her sake, to put himself in meuy greate distresse, dangers and peril! s ; but when they wer wedded and bn but a litle season togither, he departed from her to her greate hevynes, and never was conversaunt with her after, to her vnderstandinge ; and all the while she kept her cleane and trew lady and wyf to him, devout to god ward, and by way of Almes, greately helpinge them that wer in poore estate. Sir Gy of Warwyke, flower and honor of Knighthode, sonne to Sir Seyward, baron of Walingforde, and his lady and wyfe Dame Sabyn, a florentyne in Italy of the noble bloode of the contrey, translate from Italy vnto this lande, as Dame Genches, Saynt Martyns sister, borne in Greke lande, was maryed here, and had in this lande noble Saynct Patryke, that converted Irelande to the Christian faythe. This worshipfull Knight Sir Gy, in his actes of warre ever consydered what part ies had wronge, and therto wold he draw, by which doinge his loos spred so 1 See Appendix at the end of this Introduction. 516 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. farre that he was called the worthiest Knight lyvinge in his dayes. Then his most speciall and chief Lady that he had sette his hart of most, Dame Felys, applied to his will and was wedded to him. This noble warryor Sir Gy, after his mariage consideringe [what] he had don for a womans sake, thought to besset the other part of his lyf for Goddes sake, departed from his lady in pilgrymeweede as hir shewys, which rayment he kept to his lyves ende, and did menyigreate battells, of the which the last was the victory of Colbrond at Winchester by the warninge of an angell. And from thence, vnknowen savinge to the Kinge only, come to Warwyke, receyved as a pilgryme of his owne lady, and by her leave at his abyclinge at Gibclif, and his livery by his page dayly sett at the Castell. And two dayes afore his deathe, an angell enformed of his passage oute of this world, and of his ladyes the day fourtnight after him. And at Gibclyf wer they bothe buryed, for ther cowld no man fro thence Remofe him till his sworn brother com, S r Tyrry, w th whome he was translate without lett. And to this day God for her sake, to tho that devoutely seeke him for hur sakes, with other Greuis as by miracle seen remedied. And in remem- brance of his habit it wer fall convenient you 1 y* it pleased som good lord or lady to fynde in the same place ij. poore men that cowde help a priest to singe, one of theim to be ther continually present, wearinge his pil grime habyte, and to shew folke the place ; and their habitacion mio'ht be full well sett over his cave in the rocke. *o" The story of Sir Guy then had evidently long before Eous's time found a local habitation, both at Warwick and at Winchester. Leland, in his Itinerary, says of Gibclife or Guycliffe : " Ould Fame remaineth with the People there that Gnido Earl of Warwike in King Athelston's Dayes . . . lived in this place like a Heremite, unknowen to his wife Felice, untill at the Article of his Death he shewed what he was. . . . Here is a house of Pleasure, a Place meet for the Muses. There is sylence, a praty Wood, antra in vivo saxo, the River rowling over the stones with a praty noyse, nemusculum ibidem opacum, fontes liquidi et gemmei, prata florida, antra muscosa, rivi leves et per saxa discursus, necnon solitudo et quies multis amicissima." The heart of the antiquary warms towards the lovely spot. Such are the authorities, if the word may be used in this case, GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 517 for the legend. At any rate, tbey may serve to show how old it is, and how widely and generally popular it was. In the Elizabethan literature allusions to it abound, though, strangely enough, not one occurs in the plays of Shakespeare, familiar as he must have been with it and the locality to which the more touching part is attached. Puttenham, in his Art of Poetry (1589), speaks of "places of assembly where the company shall be desirous to hear of old adventures and valiances of noble knights in times past, as are those of King Arthur and the Knights of the round table — Sir Bevis of Southampton, Guy of Warwick, and others like." In Dr. King's Dialogues of the Dead (quoted by Mr. Chappell), " It is the negligence of our ballad singers," a Ghost remarks, " that makes us to be talked of less than others ; for who almost besides St. George, King Arthur, Bevis, Guy and Hickathrift, are in the chronicles ? " The Little French Lawyer in Fletcher's play of the name, and Old Master Merry- thought in the Knight of the Burning Pestle siug snatches of the Legend. Corbet in his Iter Boreale wishes, May all the ballads be call'd in & dye, Which sing the warrs of Colebrand & Sir Guy. Butler tells us of Talgol, one of Hudibras' supporters (who, according to L'Estrange, represented a certain Newgate Market butcher), He many a boar & huge dun-cow Did, like another Guy, o'erthrow; But Guy with him in fight compar'd Had like the boar or dun-cow far'd. Such has been the popularity of this story. The oldest literary form of it preserved to us is, as we have seen, an Anglo-Norman romance, composed probably in the thirteenth century. This, no doubt, was founded on songs and traditions that were then commonly in vogue in the country, that had then already been so for many a generation. These were dressed and decorated by the romance-writer according to the fashion of his age ; 518 GUY AND COLEBKANDE. the old Saxon hero transformed into a Norman knight, dis- patched to the crusades, conducted from tournament to tourna- ment throughout Europe, and carried through all the adventures proper for a hero of chivalry. One most prominent feature of the romance is its monastic feeling, which, indeed, is so strong that one may well believe it to be the work of a monk. A terrible remorse seizes Guy at last for all the blood he has shed, and his love for the woman who has incited him to his blood-shedding career passes away. Is this penitential element part of the original tale ? Was this sung of by old pre-Norman gleemen ? Or is it rather to be ascribed to the translator and editor of the thirteenth century ? Probably so. In the old Saxon poetry, so far as is known, women occupy but an unimportant place. Neither there, nor indeed in the life which that poetry reflects, do they "rain influence and adjudge the prize." More- over, one can well conceive such an addition being made to the story in the thirteenth century, a period of a great monastic revival — a period of much doubt as to matrimony, an uneasy suspicion prevailing that it was an indulgence which the truly pious man would scarcely allow himself. Such a suspicion enters the soul of Guy, when at last, after waiting and longing and serving so long, he is at last crowned with the happiness of his heart ; he resolves to abandon the treasure gained. How noble and devout such an abandonment was held to be by the mediaeval monks may be seen from endless instances, notably from the story of Saint Alexios, of whom Alban Butler thus writes ' : Having, in compliance with the will of his parents, married a rich and virtuous lady, he on the very day of the nuptials, making use of the liberty which the laws of God and his church give a person before the marriage be consummated, of preferring a more perfect state, secretely withdrew, in order to break all the ties which held him in this world. In disguise he travelled into a different country, em- 1 See Appendix at the end of this Introduction. GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 519 braced extreme poverty, and resided in a but adjoining to a cburcb dedicated to tbe Mother of God. Being after some time there dis- covered to be a stranger of distinction, he returned home, and being relieved as a poor pilgrim, lived some time unknown in his father's house, bearing the contumely and ill-treatment of the servants with invincible patience and silence. A little before he died he by a letter discovered himself to his parents. Guy's wife-desertion then, and his severe asceticism, may be later additions to his original story. There can be little doubt that that original story belongs to a remote age, — possibly, as lias been suggested, to an age anterior even to that assigned to it in the romance — the age of Athelstan. With this age of Athelstan it would seem to have been connected from a very early time. There is no kind of historical basis for it in what records we have of that age. There was certainly a great Northern invasion in the reign of Athelstan. Northumbria, lately annexed by him, allied itself with Scots, Danes, Welsh, and essayed to recover its independence. "They fought with Athelstan," writes Milton, " at a place called Wenduse [which might easily have been confounded with Wynton] ; others term it Brununbury, others [as William of Malmesbury] Bruneford ; which Ingulgh [who calls it Brunford] places beyond Humber ; Camden in Glendale of Northumberland on the Scottish borders — the bloodiest fight, say authors, that ever this island saw." Ellis suggests that Guy — he should say Egil — maybe identical with one Egils, " who did in fact contribute very materially " to the victor)'. If this be so, then the legend must be rather Scandinavian than Saxon ; for this Egil was a northern viking enlisted on the side of Athelstan. But, indeed, if the legend be an old Saxon one, there need be no diffi- culty in accounting for its later connection with the reign of Athelstan. That was the most glorious reign in the history of Saxon England. Athelstan reaped the rich fruits of his illustrious grandfather's wisdom and policy. He was enabled to consolidate the kingdom, and to maintain its unity unimpaired. At home 520 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. and abroad his name was known and feared. His crowning victory at Brunanburgh produced a profound impression. Even the Saxon imagination was stirred by such power and glory. "To describe his famous fight," says Milton, "the Saxon annalist, wont to be sober and succinct, whether the same or another writer, now labouring under the weight of his argument and overcharged, runs on a sudden into such extravagant fancies and metaphors as bear him quite beyond the scope of being understood." Strangely enough, the great poet did not recognise in the passage he thus characterises the work of an older bard ; for it is in fact one of the few Saxon poems that survive. There are many signs of a rich ballad literature, besides that spirited piece, appertaining to this great monarch's reign. There is the story of Analaf belonging to that same battle, which is evidently taken by Malmesbury from some old ballad. Then there are the stories of the King's mother's dream, and of his brother Edwin's punish- ment for taking part in a conspiracy against him, both which that chronicler confessedly found in old ballads. Naturally enough, the story too of the great combat with the giant was attached to his reign ; for legends attract each other, so to speak. The name given in later times to the national combatant was Guy. Other romances in course of time grew around that of Guy, treating of his son Ruisburn, of his tutor Heraud and his son. Had. MS. 7333, fol. 35 b. J>e ermyte with Lane litil spase By an Aungel his spirit to conveye By dethe is past J>e Ende of his laboure Afftir his bodyly Besolyciouwe Aftir whome G uy was \>er successoure For his meritis to J? e hevenely mansyoune Space of twoo yere by grace of crist J>an in alle haste he sent his weddyng Ihesu Byng Dauntyng his fleshe by penaimce and Vn to his wyff of trewe Affecciouwe Bygour Prayd her to come | And beo at his eonding Ay more and more encressyng in vertev ^[ That she sholde doone J>ere hir besye ^[ God made him knowe b e daye J?' he cure shold dyee As by A manor wyffly deligense J>orowc his gracious vesitacioune In haste to ordeyne for his Cepulture GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 521 With noo bret costc ne with no grete dispence Sheo hasted hir til sheo cam in presence Wher i>at Guy lay dedly pale of face Bespreynt with teeres knelyng with Beufrence be dede body Felyce did tlier inbrace ^[This notable & Famouse worthi knyght Sent her to sayne bi his messagier In J^ilke place to burye bym anoone Eight Wher that he lay to fore in A smal Awter And Afftir this doe> trewly hir deveyre J>er for her selfe dysposyn and provide Fyfftene dayes Folowyng J?e same jere She to be buried J>ere by Guyes syde *[] His holy wyf of al this toke good hede Like as he badde and liste no longer tarye Tacquyte hir selfe of wyffly womanhede For she was loi>° frome his desire to varye Sent in Al haste for J>e ordenarye Wiche ocupied in bat dyosyse She was not founde in oone poynt contrarye Eche thyng tacomplyshe / as ye have herde devise ^[And alle )>is cronicle /For to conclude At hes Exequyes old & younge of age Of diufrse folke cam grete multitude With grete devocioune vn to bat her- mitage Lyche A prywse with al be surplusage j>ei tooke hym vppe/and leyde him in his grave Ordeynid of god be marcyal curage Ageinst J>e Danys bis Begioune to saue ^[Whos sowle I truste restight nowe in glorie With holy Spiretis Above be Firmament Felice his wyf callyng to her memorye be daye gane neghe of her enterrement To forne provided in her testament Eeynborne beire heyre/ioustely to succede By title of hir and lynealle discent .beorldame of warwike trewly to possede ^be stok descendyng doune by be pee dugree To Guy his fadir by title of mariage Afftir whos dethe/of lawo and equyte Eeynborne to entre in to his Eritage .Cleimeyng his Eyght/his moder of good age Habe yolde hir dette by dethe vnto nature By side her lorde in )>at Ermitage Wiche eonded feyre was made hir Sepulture ^[For to auctorise better bis matere Whos translacioure shewebe be sentence Oote of latyne made by be Cronniculier Callid of olde Gyrard Cronubyence Wiche whilome wrot with gret deligence Dedis of hem in westesex crowned kynges Gretly comendyng for kneyghtly ex- cellence Guy of werrewike in heos famouse wreytingis ^[Of whos nobelesse ful gret hede he toke His kneyghtly fame to putten in Ee- memberavnse be eleventbe chapitre/of his historialboke J>e partite lyf be vertuouse gouernaunce His wilfulle pouertee/harde ligginge and penaunce Al sent to me in Englisho to translate If owght be wrong in metre or substance Put al be wyte/for dulnesse ofi lydegate Harkian MS. 5243, fol. 4. To all heroical knightes, and illustrious Ladies, both in Court, and Countrio for virtewe, love, bewtie, chivalrie, prowes, bowntie : & of other com- pleate departmentes most eminent and honorabl, John Lane in all dutie wisheth gratious perfection to felicitie eternal. After, nay before all your secular affaires, vouchsafe to accepte, to your recreations the pleasant historie of this vertuous paire instanced in the most noble pair of frendes, and lovers, the Ladie Felis, and her exemplarie sparck of christian honor, Sir Gwy Earle of Warwick, surnamed thr heremite; reckoned for more then twoe hundred yeercs togeather, the last of the Nine worthies: albeit in that lieroical ranck, hee standeth indignified, or ne- glected, but without anie known cause, VOL. IT. 51 M 522 GUT AND COLEBKANDE. by some forane heraultes, for theire Duke Gothfreyes sake, wheareof expostu- lation is made after a modest fasshion in this Poem. His deedes have lately bin renewed in verse, and published in a litle tract ; nevertheles for brevitie sake, (as it seemeth) it omitteth much of the original historie, left vnto vs by all the ancient English poetes : whose historie I take to bee meerly english, and not delt withall by anie straungers, (vnlesse by Axiosto) as kinge Arturs hath bin by the Italien Bocas, in honorable manner, and by some French, and Spanish, as it is reported. But all our ancientes, fallinge in love with the high-pitchd vertew, w/«'ch our noble Guyon bore in martial prowes, have in divers successive ages, as Poetes his- torical, reillustrated the same ; as well is observed by our learned, and farthest travelled antiquarie M r Camden, whoe with approved poetical iudgment, of givinge discreet accompte to the Muses, calleth him Guidonem warwicensem de- cantatum ilium heroem. And him have they sunge in deed into the fabrick of sownd poetrie, although in termes obso- lete ; the which, posteritie maie againe, and againe, (as listeth Poetes) refine, in lines more polite, accordinge as our lan- guage is become refined, and more copious, equal (at the least) to anie circumstant vulgar : as with reason, and learned demonstration, is wittnessed by our noble, and highlie ingenious knight Sir Philip Sidney, but in sublimitie of conceipt, cann passe them never, for that they (dealingein own loomes as poets histori- cal) have ever since, built on the same model, either expressely, or transposedly, ■which also is punctualy. It beinge by them idealie layd, after the laudabl, & lawfull manner of poetical fiction, doe serve out Guions trewe real historie, vnder the signature of Misterie; which hath to drawe with it Allusion, Circum- stance, Discourse, Speculation, Sentence, Immitation : all sommd vp in these twoe vz Invention, Demonstration . as well knoweth the Classis of poetes laureat, to whome I produce Chaucers tale by the Squier, never yet told out by anie in the same straine ; the which formes, I also in this poem shall, and in my poetical visions, first and second partes, and in my Twelue monethes observe, and ex- emplifye . the name Poeta, being derived of troieci, signifieth to make as a maker ; howbeeit to define the art it selfe is all as hard, as to doe it indeede, but not to doe it rightly I cannever define yt soundly : No though her practise doe thus extend yt : vz Prfmo, into the Satyrical, which proveth so offensive to the meridien wheare yt confi neth ! as that her back cannever beare half the enimies shee be- getteth to her self. Secundo, it maie be laid in y e Lyrical wAich hath to praise or despraise ; which satisfy eth not the best wittes ; sith flotinge topp of the wave for the gull to feed on particulars. Tercio, it may bee carried in the kind called heroical, or Allegorical ; the which (allegorical waie anglinge at the bottom) implieth those other twaine, and all notions ells, beinge exercised in such different descant, and varietie of verse in kind, as discreete art findeth most con- gruent to the muse : is thearefore most delightfull to the most iudicious, as having in yt an heroical powr of callinge the highest vnderstandinges of all others, as namely our master Aristotel, Alex- ander magnus, Scipio Affricanus, Oc- tauius Augustus Cesar, Jacobus Anglise rex, with manie moe, whoe are by so much the more often honorablie remem- bred, as theire bownteous favors to the ingenious in this faculty, have bin shewed, and theire own iudicious dexterities in it abownded, but is no meate for paper- peckinge In rimers — out poetasters, sith — muse-traducinge, — witt abusinge, — Poesie-missvsinge Pieridistes. In which last, szt heroical kind ; Homer bestirred him selfe to lead the dawnce. Virgil blasoned the riches of his learninge in the same cloth of arras . the ancient Eng- lish Poetes (meaninge allwaies the sownd ones) have delivered them of heroical birthes in this kind ; which doe survive of theire deceased parentis glorie, all of them adducinge a complete knight, in the personations of twoe in number ; and maie as lawfullie bee instanced in one : and all as well in twoe, as pleaseth the ingenious. For so M r Edm : Spencer in his allegorical declaratorie, faerely de- clameth. Now, for my own part (vnder correction) I endevour to call a general muster of all our noblest Guions whole historie, in the same kind also, as beinge most proper for it, and him ; but without derogatinge from the desert of our ancient GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 523 English poets first plott: the which (re- presentinge excellent) was written all- most three hundred yeeres gonn, by Don Lidgate, and since him, by John Rowse & Pepulwick. But wheare all they had theire first president! is now by the ancient historiens verie hard to prove ; for that in our greate combustion of anti- quitie, they suffred shippwrack: Not- withstandinge, some of them escaped y 8 distroier, and are yet extant, & well preserved by the singular industries of osm, that waie both studious, and learned : amongst whome, M r Thomas Allen, in the learnedst ranches hath reputation ; as Sir Robert Coton knight his industrie in this kind, hath singular commendation. All these ancient Cronoclers wrote of Guies person, & greate prowes ; namely, Henricus Knighton, Thomas Radburn, Giraldus Cornubiensis, Johannes Strench, Johan?ies Hardinge, Johannes Gresley, Johannes Powtrel : all beinge manu- scriptes, never printed, with many moe, as saith John Rosse, whoe dilligentlie in K. Hen : the seavnths time collected them on the point of Gwy, while the recordes weare yet extant, every of them avouchinge his overcominge of Colbrand on the same conditions, w^ich tradition hath ever since that time maintained. Cronica cronicorum affirmeth the same, though at the second hand, and with missnaminge of Giraldus Cambrensis, for Giraldus Cornubiensis. Yet all this notwithstandmge ! our valient Guy is so vnfortunate amongste our late Croniclers, as that they are pleased to saie lesse of him, then Hanibals epitaph, amounted vnto. Amongst whome ! som of oures, (but vnkindlie for th'innocent English penn, and that to this worthies dishonor) whose person they confesse; yet after holdinge his own for many ages in his grave ex concesso, woold faine decline the credite of ally e ancientes, concerninge the conditions of Guyes fightinge the Duello for this kingdom, when hee slewe Colbrand the Affrican giant challenginge for the Danes : as yf Sir Guy, beinge then a man retired to obscuritie, and besides overtaken of old age; shoold, or woold runn at a masterie so daungerous for glorie, which hee contemned : and notvppon the necessitie of that occasion, but this presumptuous kind of novitious writinge, maie rest assured, that onlie one of yonder ancientes, livinge ueerer the time of the famous Guy by some hundreds of yeeres, will carrie more credite! then one thowsand such newe, offringe so forwardly, w/«'ehmust needes bee ignorantlie, sith not havinge seene auie of the manuscriptes before men- tioned. Howbeeit, John Stowes note of Guy, is perfecter then all the rest of the newe. Against wAich manner of histori- fyenge, which, intendeth but to vex the credite of antiquity, (speakinge this vnder correction, and without taxinge the good endevoure of anie man, or the person it selfe) Poetrie hath to bringe her action of encrochment, for vsurpinge 011 her licence of allusion in matter of fact, and it applienge to historie of longe before our new writers times : which manner, scarce is historieum dicendi genus, but is goodly to shewe with what eloqution such endewe them selves with all, and to enlarge tomes beyond movinge, without the helpe of a porter. In the meane time, the precise naked integritie of the ancientes, gave (with more brevi- tie) accompt, rather of plaine fact, as it was indeede, then of affected eloquence poeticalie interlined (but vnlawfullie) in historie. Which new fluenee, breeding affluence, will shortlie leave in evidence, that what Poetrie doth idealie deliver for fiction ! is trewe ; constant truith standing vp her perpetual ensigne : and what this novel kind of historifienge affirmeth for trewe ! is false, sith mixed. For, march if theire affected insinuations doe not purposely wooe these three common concubines Partialitie ! feare ! flattery! and on them begetteth the bastard falsity! a chaungelin, the which mote these faeries overlive them selves ! and the partios they have with theire mowth glewe starched! they woold not faile so to stripp off theire old skinn, cast all theire loose haier, and rectifie theire new sett count enaunce att annother glasse ; as that Proteus him selfe woold not bee able to knowe them. How thon may such bee trusted to bee cited in other discentes de futuro? yf not as trewly roportinge ! as doth positive divi- nitie in schooles : with whome, to growe to particulars, woold surelie provoke theire passion, but theire integritie never. On thother side, sownd Poetrie of the ancient manner, suffreth no alter- M M 2 524 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. ation, but as a beakeun, or land marcke, standeth vp from age to age impregnable, against all wittes invectives, to drive them home to theire vocatiuo caret. Againe, yet som others, contrarie to thallegeance dewe to the muses, and thearfore impardonable, sith blabbinge theire secretes left in trust without leave, vncleanlie, (yet as it weare iocund- lie) denie Guy, and his actes to bee at all ; but how these doe better know it now ! or whie wee must take theire wordes for aucthentical, against the soberer & chaster ancientes, livinge neerer that time by many ages ! wee no more dare belive, then them selves are suer to bee belived, regarded, or ought esteemed, when they also have takenn farewell of the world : though now seem- inge to bee fallen out but with Lidgate onlie, and his poetrie ; doe yet in effect, through his sides, word fensor like let drive at her, but not as Aristotels scholers, naie rather his masters, in not obayenge his iniunction concerninge fa- cultie, of oportet discentem credere. Wheareas Lidgate hath respectivelie fol- lowed the advise of the same Aristotl given for Poetry szt of fownding yt on ann historie, and the same determininge in a short time: both w/«ch preceptes, Lidgate hath dewlie performed in this manner, viz that touchingetime ! Manns whole lief is but short, and touehinge truith of storie ! Lidgate fownd this of Guy, first recorded by Giraldus Cornu- biensis, and by manie other croniclers before named. Besides, that the noblest Normanes, whoe came in with the Con- querour, and weare earles of Warwick after earle Newbreghte, above six score yeeres after Guy, namely the familie of Beauchamp, or Bellocampe, many yeeres after that ; reioiced to ioine them selves to the memorie of such ann ancestor : and did not onlie repaire those monu- mentes weare fownd of Guy, but added somewhat elles. Thus Lidgat faierlie discharginge him selfe, leaveth it appa- rent, that the meere historien, is of all other infestus ! the most malignant to- ward the Poet historical ; whome hee vnderstandeth not: though him the Poet doth, at ann haier, is thearefore the most vnfitt to accuse, or censure the industrious, in the same case, that Prince Hector, and kinge Artur maie also bee doubted of, because they likewise have binn poeticalie historified by poetes pro- sequutinge ideal veritie, as the historien pretendeth positive truith. But now alas so sickly ! sith tempted by yonder three fountaine troublinge faeries, that (as the world waggeth,) it is harder to find ann ancient poet false, then a new historien trewe ; while hee imbibeth that rancke penn swoln humor, newly cleaped the art of reformation : meaninge the same art, which our excellently learned knight Sir Henrio Sauyl in his annota- tions vppon Tacitus, mett stealinge over- sea hitherward. vppon whose bold fore- head, hee scoreth a lecture, wheareof shee is hardlie capable szt of more modestie. Weare it not thearefore better, that Don Barckley (theferriman)bee deltwith all, to shipp her back againe ? sith none that knowes, trustes her for strawes ; rather then thus, through her envious suppress- inge the heroes, to discourage the fertile wittes of our Englishe nation, which weare readie tocom;«e into the deservinge ranck with the Greekes, Latines and Italienes, to renewe that poetical reputation it in- herited of old, but for this odd fashion of presumed-sinceare wisdom, down strikinge with her lightned thunderbolt the deceased. Whoe in theire times (without comparison) sored on no com- temptible opinion, an hartninge of the foraner, to detract also. But if it shoold bee imposed on the meere historiens (so well beese6ne in antiquities, andglistringe of the reformat] ves aforesaid) to recon- cile those Poemes of Chaucer, and Lid- gate, & of somme other later English (even the best of that kind, which staieth not yt selfe on particulars only, the w^ich kind was, is, and ever wilbee scandalous) to bee all one thinge vari- ously transposed! it mote chaunce to pose them all though to the poet it bee possible to give a tract, which cann satisfy all men, on what kinds of learn- inge soever they insist ! And further demonstrate, how that a forane poet (esteemed excellent, but dealinge with holie scripture in the Letter) hath from trewe poetries waiese (meaninge the an- cient) not a litle erred : forasmuch as it is well knowen to the Academick Classis Laureate, that not good verse alone, nor prose alone, ne store of similes, or some discription with allusion onlie, and the GUY AND COLEBRAXDE. 525 like, doe make poetrie complete. Yet beinge of it ! cann at the most amount but to Sermocination, of prose turnd verse. Thus yf Poetes bee of my iury ! I hope I have not provoked anie dis- creete manns cholei", in thus showldringe (though weakely, to poetries behoof) for the same roome for her, wkich Porphirie in schooles collateth szt habet esse in genere demonstrantium ; and thearfore •without leave, is worthie of own in- genious reputation as well now, as then ; to whome ancient learninge woold never give the lye, for doubt of pledginge the new in apium risus. Otherwise, even Cornelius Agrippa, ipse aries (for all his occult philosophick lookes) maie chaunce in this straine, to sitt beatinge his heeles without the muses gates, singinge to own vanity, Beati qui non intelligunt. more mote bee brought how lustie some historiens deport them on own glorious ostentation, as yf theare weare none to them ! sith vncivilie taun- tinge, discreditinge, degradinge, and con- trowlinge deiected poetrie (the ideal model of moral demonstratives) which. ever was rara auis in terris, and knoweth what shee doth, without such as publish aim ignorance, never ingendred in schooles : for Poetrie hath waies by her selfe. Whearfore such angrie quill- men maie, (when they knowe more) blush of own shame, yf shee acquitt her self from beinge either ward ! or tenent at will to them ! Howbeet love predomi- natinge with vs, concealeth names, that by this litle (gentlie merit.) they woold bee pleased to amend much ; -which more woold commend their own learninge, yf not indignlie baiting sound poetrie of virtuous institute ; and thearfore so much the more esteemed by the mosl noble, most honorable, most valient, wise, and learned, as thinge (by som maintained) which none maie teach to other: Least elles shee complaine her to all her ingenious pupills, whoe cann byte home yf bytten. I never had the philosophers stone, whearewith to pro- mise our Guyon, in suehe daintie limned worek, as Ariostoes Orlando hath fownd since hee came into England ; neverthe- les this meanethe historicalie with the ancientes, to present Sir Gwies youth, manwood, and old age : his love, warr, & mortification, all sommed vp in his liefe, and death, and that accordinge to our most ancient historiens, poetes, heraltes recordes, publick monumentes, and tradicion also, which somtime is a never dienge trewe cronicler. Thus not havinge whearewith ells to expresse my poore service vnto you then in this expense of times leasure with takinge humblest leave doe recommend it vnto you, and you all, to thalmightie. this of Yokt verie lovinge frend Jo : La : See Mrs. Jameson's Sacred and Legend- aril Art. Alexis' father wishes him to marry, and chooses him a bride. " On the appointedday the nuptialswerecelebrated with great pomp and festivity ; but when the evening came the bride-groom had disappeared, and they sought him every- where in vain ; and when they questioned th. bride.she answered, 'Behold, he came into my chamber and gave me this ring of gold, and this girdle of precious stones, and this veil of purple, and then he bade me farewell, and I know not whither lie is gone.' And they were all astonished ; and seeing he returned not, they gave them- selves up to grief: his mother spread sackcloth on the earth and sprinkled it with ashes, and sat clown upon it ; ami his wife took off her jewels and bridal robes, and darkened her windows, and put on widow's attire, weeping continually ; and Eupheniiansent servants and m< ■-■ eiigi is to all parts of the world to seek his son, but he was nowhere to be found. In the meantime, Alexis, after taking leave of his bride, disguised himself in the habit of a pilgrim, fled from his father's house, and throw ing himself into a little boat, ho r< ached the mouth of the Tiber ; at he embarked in a vessel bound for Lao- dicea, and thence lie repaired to Edessa, a city of Mesopotamia, and dwelt there in great poverty and humility, spending his days in ministering to the sick and poor, and in devotion to the Madonna, until the people who beheld his great 526 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. piety, cried out 'A saint!' Then fear- ing for his virtue, he left that p^ce and embarked in a ship bound for Tarsus, in order to pay his devotions to St. Paul. But a great tempest arose, and after many davs the ship, instead of reaching the desired port, was driven to the mouth of the Tiber, and entered the port of Ostia. "When Alexis found himself again near his native home, he thought, ' It is better for me to live by the charity of my parents than to be a burden to strangers,' and hoping that he was so much changed that no one would recognise him, he en- tered the city of Rome. As he approached his father's house, he saw him come forth with a great retinue of servants, and ac- costing him humbly besought a corner of refuge beneath his roof, and to eat of the crumbs which fell from his table ; and Euphemian, looking on him, knew not that it was his son, nevertheless he felt his heart moved with unusual pity, and granted his petition, thinking within himself, ' Alas for my son Alexis ! per- haps he is now a wanderer and poor, even as this man.' So he gave Alexis in charge to his servants, commanding that he should have all things needful. But, as it often happens with rich men who have many servitors and slaves, Euphe- mian was ill obeyed; for, believing Alexis to be what he appeared — a poor ragged wayworn beggar — they gave him no other lodging than a hole under the marble steps which led to his father's door, and all who passed and repassed looked on his misery ; and the servants, seeing that he bore all uncomplaining, mocked at him, thinking him an idiot, and pulled his matted beard, and threw dirt on his head; but he endured in silence. A far greater trial was to witness every day the grief of his mother and wife ; for his wife, like another Ruth, refused to go back to the house of her fathers ; and often, as he lay in his dark hole under the steps, he heard her weeping in her chamber and crying, ' my Alexis ! whither art thou gone? Why hast tho\i espoused me only to forsake me ? ' And hearing her thus tenderly lamenting and upbraiding his absence, he was sorely tempted ; nevertheless he remained steadfast. Thus many years passed away, until his emaciated frame sunk under his suffer- ings, and it was revealed to him that he should die. Then he procured from a ser- vant of the house pen and ink, and wrote a full account of all these things, and all that had happened to him in his life, and put the letter in his bosom, expecting death. It happened about this time, on a certain feast day, that Pope Innocent was celebrating high mass before the Emperor Honorius and all his court, and suddenly a voice was heard, which said, ' Seek the servant of God who is about to depart from this life, and who shall pray for the city of Rome.' So the people fell on their faces ; and another voice said, ' Where shall we seek him ? ' And the first voice answered, ' In the house of Euphemian the patrician.' And Euphe- mian was standing next to the emperor, who said to him, ' What ! hast thou such a treasure in thy house, and hast not di- vulged it? Let us now repair thither immediately.' So Euphemian went before to prepare the way, and as he approached his house a servant met him, saying, ' The poor beggar whom thou hast sheltered has died within this hour, and we have laid him on the steps before the door.' And Euphemian ran up the steps and uncovered the face of the beggar, and it seemed to him the face of an angei, such a glory of light proceeded from it ; and his heart melted within him, and he fell on his knees ; and as the emperor and his court came near, he said, ' This is the servant of God of whom the voice spake just now.' And when the pope saw the letter which was in the dead hand of Alexis, he humbly asked him to deliver it; and the hand relinquished it forth- with, and the chancellor read it aloud before all the assembly." GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 527 [The First Part.] [How Guy undertakes to fight a Danish Giant.] WHEN: meate & drinke is great plentye, [page 349] At feasts then lords and Ladyes still wilbe, & sitt, & solace lytlie ' ; tlien itt is time ffbr mee to speake of keene knights & kempes 2 great, such carping ffor to kythe, 3 how they haue conquered, for Englands right 8 with helme vpon head, w/th halbert 4 bright, ffull oft & many a sithe 5 they 6 haue burnt by dale and downe, citye, castle, tower, & towne, 12 & made bearnes vnbly the ; made Ladyes ffor to weepe with dreery mood, when theire ffreinds ought ayled but good, their hands 7 to wring and writhe. 8 1 6 of all cronicles ffarr and neere, were 9 any deeds of armes weere, 10 the most I prayse Sir Guy of warwicke ! that noble knight 20 oft times ffor Englands right hath done ffull worthylye ; yetfc hee kept itt as priuilye as tho itt had neuer beene hee, 24 without noyse or crye. & when he came ouer the salt ffome ffrom S/r Terrey of Gorwaine, 11 I tell of knights and warriors who have burnt towers and towns, and made women weep > for their friends. Above all heroes I put Guy of Warwick, who kept secret his noble deeds for England. When he came back 1 soft, gentle.— P. listen to.— F. 2 kempa, a soldier, Champion ; kcmp, to contend. Scot, vid. Gl. ad G.D.— P. 3 A.-S. cy%an, to make known, relate. —P. 4 hauberk. — P. s sithe, vices (time) Lye; Chaucer. —P. « The Danes.— P. ' MS. lands.— P. hands.— P. 8 The author wrote "wry." — Dyce. 9 where. — P. 10 There is a tag to the e. — P. 11 Sir Thierry of Gurmoise, in the Af- fleck Romance as analysed by Ellis, first Guy's opponent, then the friend resi by him. See Ellis, p. 204, 214, 218, 223 (ed. Bohn).— F. 528 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. from helping Sir Terrey, he dressed as a beggar, and only- enquired about "Warwick. Athelstan was then besieged in "Winchester by the Danish king, Avelocke, whose Giant was all armed in plate, and had sworn to subdue all England. No English knight dares fight him. a knight of maine and moode, 28 ffor ffeare lest any one shold him know, he kept him in silly beggars rowe where euer hee went or stood ; & euer he sperred ' priuilicke 32 how they flared att warwicke, & how they liued there. "King Athels[t]one, the truth to say, att the towne of Winchester there he lay 36 with one soe royall a flare. the King of Denmarke, Auelocke, 2 he into England brought a fflocke of bearnes as breeme as beare 3 ; 40 & with him a Gyant stifle & starke, a Lodlye devill out of Denmarke : such another you neuer saw yore : hee was rayed richlye with royall plate 44 both legg & arme, you may well wott, 4 in armor bright to be seene ; he brought weapon, — who list ffor to read- more then any cart could lead, 5 48 to ding men downe by-deene ; & swore othes great and grim, that all England shold hold of him, or he would kindle their care. 52 then in England there was neuer a 'knight that once with him durst flight, — ffull sore 6 he did them dread, 7 — Athelstan Prays ; neither with Auelocke nor Athelstone. 56 then our King, to Christ he made his moane, 1 i.e. enquired. — P. There are two strokes for the second i in priuilicke. — F. 2 Aulaf, in the Affleck MS. The change here is due, no doubt, to the Romance of Havelok the Dane. — F. 3 boare, q. — P. Bore is the regular word. — F. 4 wate, weet, q.— P. 5 forte pro (lade, i.e.) load, A.-S. hladan, B. lseden. — P. 6 soe sore. — P. 7 dare, q. — P. GDY AND COLEBRANDE. 529 & to his mother bright to be seene. then one Night as our King lay in a vision, there came an Angell downe ffrom heauen 60 to lett him vnderstand * : he sayd, " rise vp in the morning by prime, 2 & goe to the gates in a good time ; an old man shall you ffind there, 64 both with, his scripp and his pike, as that hee were palmer like, lowring 3 vnder his here. 4 vpon thy knees, Sir King, looke thou kneele him to, 68 & pray him the battell to doe, ffor his loue that Marry bore. 5 " -with, that the Angell vanished away, but more of this Gyant I haue to say. 72 as I haue heard my Elders tell, he was soe ffoule & soe great course, 6 That neither might beare him steed nor horsse ; men thought he came ffrom hell. 76 the[n] bespake a Squier priuilye : " where is the Knight men call S/r Guy, some time 7 in this land did dwell ? or Sir Arrard 8 of arden alsoe ? 80 the one of these might thither goe the Gyant ffor to quell." then bespake him an Erie in that while, & sais, " S/r Guy is now in Exile, 84 no man knowes wh[i]ther or where ; he had but one sonne, & he bight Rainborne ; a merchant stold him ffrom wallingford towne, ouer tlje seas with, him to ffare ; an angel comes to him in a vision, and tells him to go early to the gates, where he'll find an old man like a palmer. Him he must pray to fight the giant. [page 350] (A squire says Sir Guy or Sir Arrard of Arden would fight him. " Ah ! but Guy is in exile. His son Uainborno is stolen ; 1 him ken aright, q. — P. 2 Prime, the first houre of the day (in Summer at foure a clocke, in Winter at eight). Cotgrave.— F. 3 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 1 hair, q. — P. here = hair. — F. 5 bare, q. — P. 6 i.e. Corpse. — P. 7 tine in the MS.— F. 8 Sir Heraud. Guy's trusty companion, then " in a dungeon on the coast of Africa." Ellis, p. 198, 234.— F. 530 GUY AND COLEBItANDE. and his wife, Felix, thinks he, Guy, is dead.") Next morning, Athelstan goes to the gates, 88 " the Erie & the Countesse beene both dead, Dame ffelix is sore adread of 1 her Lord, Sir Guye. " her ffather and mother beene dead her ffroe ; 92 & soe shee thinkes Sir Guy is alsoe, the flower of knighthood bold." then Earlye, as soone as itt was day, our ~King to the gates tooke his way, 96 his fforward 2 ffor to hold. finds an old man in palmer's dress, and prays him to fight the giant. right certaine truth to tell, he ffound 3 a man in the same apparell as the Angell before had him told. 100 vpon his knees the 'King kneeled him to, and prayd him the battell doe, ffor his loue that Iudas sold. The Palmer says he is too weak. then answered the Palmer right, 104 & sayd, "in England you haue many a Knight the battell that may doe. I am brused in my body, & am vnyeeld 4 ; alas, I may no wepons welde ! 108 behold, & take good heede 5 ! " Athelstan says God wills that he should fight. "Then I will," answers he. 112 our King sayd the palmer vntill, " well I wott itt is gods will you shold helpe me in my need 6 ! " " If that be soe," the palmer did speake, " by the might of Christ I shall thee wreake, 7 if I had armour & sheild." Athelstan our King of this hee was ffull ffaine, 116 & soe were all his lords certaine. 1 for, q.— P. 2 agreement : with the angel ? — F. 3 MS. faund.— F. 4 unwielde or unweld, q. Chauc. — P. 5 There take good heed thereto, q. -P. 6 in the field, q.— P. 7 revenge. — P. GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 531 120 to a Chamber they cold him Lead ; they sought vp Armour bright and ffaire, inough ffor any ~King to haue in store, 1 & they best they did him bidd. offers him armour, but meete for his body there was none, he was soe large of blood and bone, the fferssest 2 that euer was ffedd. 124 the day of battell drew neere hand ; but 5 dayes before, as I vnderstand, our king was sore affrayd. but none will fit him, he is so big. The day of battle draws near. then bespake the palmer priuilye, 128 " where is the Knight men call Sir Guye ? sometimes in this land he dyd dwell 3 ; once I see him beyond the sea ; his Armoure I thinke wold serue mee 132 in battell stifflye to stand." the King did thereto assent ; the Kmgs messenger to warwicke went, the Countesse soone he ffound. 4 136 before her he kneeled him on his knee, prayed her of the armor belonged to Sir Guy when he was a-liue liuande. 5 shee saught vp armoure ffaire to bee seene : 140 Sz'r Guyes sword was sharpe & keene, himselfe was wonnt to weare. to the towne of Winchester they did itt bring ; ffull gladd therof then was the Kmg, 144 & many that with, him there were. then the rayed the palmer anon-right with helme vpon head, w/th halbert 6 bright ; The Palmer suggests that Guy's armour will fit him. Athelstan sends to the Countess for it, and she sends it back, with Guy's sword. They arm him, 1 to wear, q. — P. 2 MS. fferffest— F. 3 he did dwell in this land, q. -P. * fend, q.— P. 5 alive on ground, q.- 6 hauberk, q. — P. 132 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. he mounts, and rides forth. When he gets to the field Guy dis- mounts, and prays to Christ to grant him strength to free England from the Danish yoke. Then he springs into the saddle, they rauglit him sheild and speare. 148 Then he lope on horsbacke with good entent, [ P . 351] & fforth of the gates then hee went, his ffoes ffor to ffeare. then al be-spread l was the ffeild 152 with helme A^pon head, with shining sheild, 2 as breeme 3 as any beare. 4 & when the palmer all the armes sawe, he lighted downe, & list not lauge, 156 but he mad his prayers arright 5 : " Christ ! that suffered wounds 5, & raised Lazarus ffrom dath to liffe, 6 to grant mee speech & sight, — • 160 & saued danyell the Lyons ffroe, & borrowed 7 Susanna out of woe, — to grant vs strenght & might, " that I may England out of thraldome bring 164 & not let vnder 8 the danish K.ing haue litle England att his will." then without any stirropp verament into the saddle he sprent, 168 & sate there sadd and still. and Athel- stan says he never saw any one do that except Sir Guy. 172 our Km<7 said, " by gods grace this riseth ffrom a light liuerues, 9 and of an Egar will. I neuer kneww no man that soe cold haue done, but old Sir Guy of warw[i]cke towne, that curteous knight himselfe. 10 " 1 MS. albe spread. — F. all bespread. —P. 2 With Hauberk glitterand bright, query. — P. 3 MS. breeue.— P. 4 boar, qu. — P. Bore is the old word ; but the rhyme with feare makes the change necessary. See too 1. 39. — P. 5 prayers thore. — P. 6 from dead on live, q. — P. 7 borrow, ab. A.-S. beorgan ; servare, custodire. — P. 8 delend.— P. 9 nimbleness. See liver, vol. i. p. 17, 1. 46. Fr. delivre de sa personne, an active nimble wight. Cotgrave. — F. 10 himsel. Boreal. P.— P. GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 533 176 2? parte < [The Second Part.] [How Sir Guy fights and kills the Danish Giant.] " The Gyant was the ffirst that tooke the place ; The foul i t i rr> i p rr> Giantcomes, vglye he was, and noule of fface ; the danish men began to smile, he wold neither runne nor leape, but layd all his weapons vpon a heape, & dryd l himselfe for guile that he might choose of the best, that who-soeuer with them hee hitt, which, warr that bard while. 184 Trumpetts made steeds to stampe & stare ; the King of denmarke, he was there, the King of England alsoe. then the King of Denmarke a booke out breade, 2 188 & sware theron, as the story sayes, — behold & take good heed : ■ — " if the Gyant had the warre, 3 of England he wold neuer cleame more, 192 neither nye nor ffurr. 4 " the kinge of England was there alsoe ; the same othe he sware alsoe, — behold and take good heede, 5 — 196 " if the pore palmer had the wore, of England he wold neuer claime more, while his liffe dayes last wold." & thus their trothes together they strake, 200 they said their poyntment shold not slake, nor exile out off Arr. 6 stands still, and tries his weapons. King Avelocke that if the Giant is beaten, he'll never claim England again. Athelstan swears that if his Palmer is beaten he'll not claim England. 1 forte dress d. — P. tried. — F. 2 breide, braide, arose, &e., also pulled out, drew, Gl. ad Chauc. — P. 3 werre for werrs. — P. 4 i.e. nigh nor far. — P. 5 corrupt. — P. 6 mold, q. — P. 534 GUY AND C0LEBE1NDE. The Giant savs that he"ll kill or drown Gut, and crown eke K-.r.g of England. then the Grant loud did erve : » * to the King of Denmarke ' these words says hee, 204 •' behold tt take good heede ! yonder is an Hand iii the sea : ffroni me he can-not scape away, nor passe my hands indeed ; 20^ "but I shall either slay him with my brand, or drowne him in vonder salt strand 2 : ffro me he shall not scape away, then I will w<'th my owne hand 212 erowne thee king of litle England ffor ener and flbr aye." The G and Guy - - : a an island in two barges. Guy pushes his bar^o . EE into the stream. that was true, as the King of denmarke thought : comanded "J barges florth to be brought, 216 & either into one was done. the Gyant was 3 the ffirst that ore did passe. A ;.s soone as hee 4 to the Hand come was. his barge there he thrust him ffroru : 5220 with his ffoote & with his hand he thrust his barge ffroni the Land. w th the watter he lett itt goe. he let itt passe ffroni him downe the streame. •224 then att him the Gyant wold ffreane 5 whv he wold doe soe. saying that one is -'a to carry t back. then bespake the Palmer anon-right. " hither wee be come flbr to flight 22S till the tone of vs be slaine : "2 botes brought vs hither. & therfore came not both togethc but one will bring vs home. 6 1 MS. Pemmarke.— F. then I ■was ware of a runing strand.'' E^ger & Grime, vol. i. p. 360, i. is:.— f. ' I; should, be ' Sir Guv -wras.'— P. * G-y.— F. s * • * ' •'-'■ iuterrogare. Jan. — P. • Percy adds ^againe) ? Home is for - F. GUY AND COLEBRANDE. .».;.) 232 " ffor thy Bote thou hast yonder tyde. oner in thy bote I trust to ryde ; & therfore Gyant, beware ! " trumpetts blew. & bade them goe toote, 236 the one [on] horsbacke, the other on flfoote ' ; but Guy to god was darre.'- S«r Guy weened well to doo, he tooke a strong speare & rode h[i]m too, he was in a good intent : althoe he rode neuer soe tlast, his strong speare on the Gyant hee brast, that all to shiners itt went. [page 352] 240 244 24S & then S/r Guy anon-right drew out his sword that was soe bright, that many a man beheld, & on the Gyant he smote 3 soe that a quarter of his sheild fell him firoe, euen vntill the fieild. The trumpets sound, and Sir Gin- charges. He shivers his spear on the Liiaut, draws his sword. and cuts off part of his shield. the Gyant against him made him bowne 4 ; horsse & man & all eame downe vpon the ground 5 soe greene. throughout Sir Guyes steede the Gyants sword to the ground yeed 6 ; such stroakes haue seldome 7 beene seene. The Giant knocks Guy over, and cuts his horse right through. 256 then S/r Guy started on his feete ffull tyte, 8 & on the Gyant cold hee smite as a man that had beene woode ; & vpon the Gyant he smote soe ffast 260 that the Gyants strong armour all to-brast ; there-out sprang the bloode. Q uy cuts through the Giant's armour, ami draws blood. 1 There is a mark between the / and o in the MS. — F. 2 deare, q. — P. 5 snote in t lie MS. — F. 4 ready. — P * i >ne s1 roke too many in the MS — F, 5 passed. — P. 7 sold or seeld, q. — P. 5 Light, q.-P. 536 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. The Giant knocks off the jewelled crest of Guy's helm, then the Gyant hitt Sir Guy vpon the helme ; abcme on his head the stroake itt ffell ; 264 itt was with, stones sett, itt was w/th precyous stones made ; Sir Guys helmett neere assunder yode ' ; such stroakes of men beene drade. and then asks leave o drink ; 268 then the Gyant thirsted sore ; some of his blood he had lost thore 2 ; & this he sayd on hye : " good Sir, & itt be thy will, 272 giue me leaue to drinke my mil, ffor sweete S* Charytye ; he'll let Guy do the same. Guy gives him leave, " and I will doe thee the same deede another time, if thou haue neede, 276 I tell the certainlye." " why, vpon that couenant," Sir Guy can sayine, " goe & drinke thy ffi.ll, & come againe, and heere He abyde thee." the Giant drinks, and they fight till noon. 280 beside them there the riuer ran ; the Gyant went & reffresht him then, & came ffull soone againe. ffrom that itt was lowe prime 284 till itt was hye noone, the delten strokes w^th maine. 3 Then Guy thirsts but the sword that Sir Guy had lead, therewith he kept his head, 288 stoode oft in poynt ffor to be slaine. then Sir Guy thirsted sore ; he had rather haue had drunke there then haue had England & almaigne 4 yade. — P. 2 So Chaucer EE 1853, pro tho, vel there, metri gratia. — P. 3 amaine, q. — P. 4 Germany. — P. GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 537 292 " good Sir, iff itt be thy will, lett me goe now & drinke my mil, beffore as I did thee." " nay," then sayd the Gyant, " I were to blame 296 vnlesse that I knew thy name, I tell thee certainly e." " why then," quoth hee, " He neue[r] swicke ' ; my name is Guy of warwicke ; 300 what shold I longer layne 2 to thee ? " the Gyant sayd, " soe might I swinke, 3 doest thou thinke He let thee drinke ? no ! not ffor all Cristentye ! and asks the Giant to let him drink. "You may if you'll tell me your name." "Guy of Warwick.'* " Then you sha'n't drink. 304 " Ah ha ! " quoth the Gyant, " haue I Sir Guy here ? in all this world is not a 4 peere. ffor ought that thou can doe or deale, 5 thy head [I] shall present my Lady the Queene, 308 I tell thee certainlye [bedeene.] 6 " then Sir Guy towards the riuer came. the Gyant was not light, but after him went ; the Gyant Layd after Guy with strokes strong, 312 but Guy was light, & lope againe to the Land 7 ; ffor ere he cold any stroke of Sir Guy woone, 8 Guy had beene in the riuer 9 to the chune, 10 & dranke that did him gaine. I'll give your head to my queen." However, Guy goes into the [page 353] up to his chin, and drinks. 316 & vp he start, & sayd there : " thou ffoule traitor ! I will thee loue noe more n ! ffor thy trechery, traytor, thou shalt abuy ,2 ! " Then he reproaches the Giant for his treachery, 1 swik, fallere, decipere. Lye. G.D. 102, 38.— P. 2 laine celare. — P. 3 labor, toil.— P. 4 his.— P. 5 delend, q.— P. 6 Added by Percy. — F. 7 The Giant did not lag behind him long, But layd after Guy with strokes strong. Guy lope on the Land againe. — P. 8 winne, q. — P. 9 Only half the u in the MS.— F. 10 chinne. — P. 11 leave no mair, q. — P. 12 reel, q.— P. Perhaps " kneele " : compare 1. 327. — Dyce. VOL. II. N N 538 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. and hits him a stroke that cuts down to his skull. these words spake good Sir Guy, 320 & liffted vp his swordd on hye, & saies, " good stroakes thou shalt fFeele." then S*r Guy att the Gyant smote a dint that wonderffull byterlye bote : 324 he smote assunder Iron & Steele ; Sir Guys sword through the basnett x ran, & glased 2 vpon his braine pan, & the Gyant began to kneele. The Giant knocks Guy down. 328 & then the Gyant att Sir Guy smote a dint that wonderffull 3 bitterlye bote ; he smote Sir Guy downe to the ground. S/r Guy was neuer soe discomffitted before ; 332 but through 4 the might of him that Marye bore, releeued him againe in that stonde. Guy thinks on Christ, he thought on Christ that suffered wounds 5, & raised Lazarus ffrom d[e]ath to liffe, 336 & vpon the crosse was wound, to giue him grace to quitt that. & then his sword in his hand he gatt, & narr 5 the Gyant did hee stand, 6 sticks the Giant through the breast-plate, but breaks his sword. 340 & att the Gyant there he smote a dint that wonderffull bitterly e bote ; through his brest-plate his sword he stake. 7 & as Sir Guy wold haue wrested itt out, 344 his good sword broke with-ou[t] all 8 doubt, within the hiltes itt brake ; 1 Bassnet, Helmet, or Head-piece (French) Gl. ad G. D.— P. A light helmet, shaped like a skvdl-eap. Fairholt. — F. 2 glanced or grazed, q. — P. 3 bu with one dot for hi in the MS. — F. 4 delend.— P. 5 i.e. nearer. — P. 6 stond, q. — P. 7 strake, Q.u.— P. 8 without all, q. — GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 539 & theratt lougke the Danish ~K.ing, & Athelstone made much mour[n]ing 348 to heare how the Gyant spake : " now thou hast broken thy sword & thy sheeld, here is no wepons ffor to weld ; therfore yeeld thee to mee swythe, 1 352 & I will thy arrand soe doo, & to Auelocke our K.mg He speake ffor thee, to grant thee land and liffe, that thou durst ffor thy Chiualrye 356 be soe bold as flight with, mee that am 2 soe stifle and stithe. 3 " The Giant tells him he had better yield at once, and Avelocke will grant him land and life. "nay ! " sayd Sir Guy, "by heauen Queene, that sight by me shall neuer be seene, [forsooth I do thee tell.] 360 ffor I shall kindle thy Km(/s cares 4 : through the Might of him that Marry bare, w;'th stroakes I shall thee ffell." Guy refuses. the Gyant laught, & loud gan crye, 364 " why speakest thou masterffullye ? hearke what I shall thee tell : thou hast broken thy sword & thy sheeld, & thou hast noe weapons thy selfe to weld, 368 nor 5 here is none to sell." " no," sayd Sir Guy, " I know better cheape ; yonder lyes a great cart-load on a heape, that thou thy-selfe hither did bring." 372 " then the wold laugh me to scorne, my hords manye, if of my wepons I shold let thee take anye, my selfe downe ffor to dinge." But, says the Giant, you ve no weapons to fight with. " I'll help myself from your heap." 1 soon, instantly. — P. There is stroke between to and mee. — F. 2 ann in the MS.— F. 3 Stithe, rigidus, validus, strenuus. Lye.— P. 4 care, q.— P. s ? MS. now.— F. N N 2 540 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. Guy seizes a Danish axe, cuts off the Giant's sword-arm, and then, as he stoops, his head. The Danes flee, and take their king home, as they swore to claim England no more. then Sir Guy to the weapons went : 376 a danish 1 axe in his hand hee Lent, & lightlye about his head he can itt filing. the Gyant vpon the sholder he smote ; the sword and arme ffell to hys 2 ffoote, 380 this was noe leasinge. then as he wold haue stooped, as I vnde[r] stand, to haue taken vp his sword in his other hand to haue wreaked him of that wrathe, 384 Sir Guys axe was sharpe, & share, the Gyants head he smote of there, bremelye 3 in that breath. & then the Danish men gan say 388 to our Englishmen, " well-away [page 354] that euer wee came in jour griste 4 ! " they ran & they rode ouer hill & slade 5 ; much haste home- ward they made 392 with sorrow & care enough. they hyed them ouer the salt ffome to bring the K.mg of denmarke hame with sorrow and mickle care ; 396 ffor they haue left behind them slaine a ffull ffoule Lodlye 6 swayne, both of head and hayre. ffor their trothes they had truly plight, 400 that ' as they were true Kmg and Knight, of England neuer to clayme more.' & then to the body they sett his head ; his sword in his hand was lead, 7 404 8 the strongest that euer man bo[re]. 1 See note * to 1. 169, p. 68, vol. i. — F. 2 The y is dotted as in old MSS.— F. * breme, ferox, atrox. Lye. — P. 4 ? MS. grisle.— F. * A.-S. sl&d, a slade ; plain, open tract of country. Bosworth. — F. 6 filthy.— P. 7 laid, q.— P. 8 $ stanke as did the tike is crossed out at the beginning of this line in the MS.— F. GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 541 the Gyants blood was blacke & reel, liis body was like the beaten lead, & stanke as did the tyke. 1 408 then the Layd the head to the corse, & the arme againe to the bodye alsoe, & buryed them both in a diche. 2 The Giant's corpse is buried. great hanocke our Englishmen made. The English make fun 412 of d the great cart-loade of weapons that were made, 4 over his weapons. they loughe, & good game they made. 5 that the axe out of Denmarke was brought, the Gyants head of to smyte, 6 416 the thanked christ that tyde. & then the JZmg beffore the palmer did kneele, sayes, " thou art blest, I wott itt weele, of god and our Ladye." 420 the palmer, in his hart hee was full sore when he saw our king kneele him before ; " stand vp, my lord ! " sayd hee, " ffor well I wott itt was his deede 424 that ffor vs vpon a crosse did bleede vpon the mount of Caluarye." & then our king after that, in the honor of this battell great, 428 this deed hee caused to be done : gard them to take vp the axe & the sword, & keepe them well in royall ward, & bring them to Winchester towne, 432 & hang them vp on St. Swythens church on hye that all men 7 there may see, Athelstan thanks Guy. Guy gives the victory to Christ. Athelstan has the G iant's sword and axe hung up in St. Swithin's Church in Winchester. 1 tike, Bicinus, [tick,] a dog-louse. In Shakespear it is used for a little dog. Johnson. — P. ^ Dyke, q.— P. 3 at.— P. 4 laid, q.— P. 5 & did deryde, q. — P. 6 that smote, q. — P. 7 mem in the MS. — F. There is no tradition in "Winchester of Guy's axe and sword ever having been in St. Swithin's church. — Bailey. 542 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. thither if they wold flare. 1 I tell you the weapons be there & thore 436 but of this matter He tell you more, hastylye and soone. [The Third Part.] [How Sir Guy turns Hermit, and sends for his Wife as he dies.] A procession of monks, singing Te Beutn, meets Athelstan, who offers Guy castles and towers. Guy asks only for his staff and pike. 440 3? parte < Then all religious of the towne, they mett the ~King with ffaire p?-ocession ; & other psalmes amonge, 2 te deum was theire song, & other praises there amonge, that plaused 3 the Lords to pray, the profferred the palmer att that tyde, castles hye & towers wyde, good horsses to assay. " Nay," saies he, " giue me that is mine, 448 my scripp & my pike & my slauen, 4 & lett me wend my way." 444 The King goes with him and asks his name. Guy tells flbr all they profferred him there, he ffbrsooke them : wold haue no more 5 452 but that with, him he brought. & then our K.ing with him forth on his way went ; to know his name was his entent ; " but all," he sayd, "is flbr nought, 456 without you wilbe sworne vnto me, flbr 12 monthes in councell itt shalbe, 1 gone. — P. 2 all their Psalms 'gan say, q. — P. 3 It pleased, q. — P. 4 Slaveine, a pilgrim's mantle. Sara- barda, Anglice a sclavene. Halliwell. Fr. Esclavine as Esclanune (a long and thicke riding cloake to beare off the raine ; a Pilgrims cloake or mantle ; a cloake for a trau eller;) or a sea-gowne; or a course high-collered, and short-sleeued gowne, reaching downe to the mid-leg, and vsed most by seamen and Saylors. Coterave, a.d. 1611.— F. mair q.-P. GUY AND COLEBUANDE. 543 by him that all this world has wrought." & when our 'King had sworne him too, 460 "why, my name," he sayes, "isGuy of warwicke, loe! & this ffor thee I haue ffought." him under a vow of secresy. " 0," said our King, " S«'r Guy, abyde w^th mee, & halfe of England I will giue thee, 464 & assunder wee will neuer." " nay, I thanke you my lord curteous & kind, 1 I haue a pilgramage great to wend, ffrom sinne my soule to couer. 2 468 Sometimes I was one of jouv Erles wight, 3 [page 355] but now age & trauell hath me dight ; ffarwell, my Lord, ffor euer ! for to warwicke wend will I, 472 to speake w^"th fayre ffoelix 4 my wiffe, before I dye, for nothing I had leauer." Athelstan offers him half of England to stay. Guy refuses, he must go a pilgrimage to Warwick, to see his wife. he had beene in battell stiffe & strong, & smitten with wepons that were long, 476 & bidden many a dreary e day : when the parted, they both did weepe. S^r Guy held downe the hye street, 5 in 6 warwicke where he lay. Guy journeys 480 & when he came to warwicke towne, his owne countesse to dinner was bowne & all masses were sayd. ffor ffeare lest any man shold him Ken, 484 he sett him downe among the poore godsmen, & held him well pleased. 1 to Warwick, finds his Countess at dinner, and sits down among the poor godsmen. 1 hend, q. — P. 2 pronounced kiver; perhaps sever. -P. 3 stout, active. — P. 4 Felice, in Ellis.— F. 5 i.e. the High-way. Qu. the high Roman Road. — P. 6 to, q.— P. 7 well-apaid, q. (eodem fere sensu.) —P. 544 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. The Countess feeds daily 13 palmers. G uy goes in as one, his owne Ladye euerye day att her gate 13 palmers in cold shee take 488 to dine with her atfc noone. Sir Guy was leane of cheeke A eliin. & thereffore the porter lett him in, & 12 after him did goe. 1 and his Lady gives him wine : he gives it to liis mates. 492 the Ladye see hee was ill att ease ; shee Bounded 2 Bast him to please', [and did him make good cheere ; 3 ] shee flfett him a pott of her hest wine : 496 he dealt 4 itt about him at that time, all to his ffellowes there. He takes leave of his Lady. She bids her steward then after dinner, as saith the hooke, leaue of his owne Ladye he tooke 500 before them in the hall. the Ladye called her steward vnto ; shee sayd, " my bidding looke thou doe." "Madam," hee sayd, " I shall." tell him to 'iome to J.inner every «ay. 504 "why then, goe to yonder 5 pore palmer, & bidd him come euerye day to dinner before me in this hall ; Bor an honest man 6 he hath beene 508 when he was younge & kept cleane, as may be well seene." 7 The steward gives Guy the message. the steward wold no longer abyde, but went after the palmer that tyde, ' gone, q.— P. 2 fond, found, to try, endeavour. i.S. fandian, tentare. Urry, Jun. — P. 3 A Line want i«g : And bade (or did) him maka good cheere." q. — P. 4 him follows, marked out. — F. 5 vomder in the MS. — F. 6 MS. me. A.-S. mag is a relation, friend, neighbour. — F. 7 as may be seene of all, q. —P. QUI AMD COLEBBANDE. 545 r,]'2 & did as the Ladye him hede ; ' I greeted you rny Ladye mild of cheere, prajea you enery day to come to dim.' giffe /A''.t. it.t. l;f; your will." 516 the palmer made answer her steward vnto 3 ; .say, "I pray to Christ grant her £fat meede /A'/t. welds both welth and v.-."** a title frarther I haue to ffare, 520 to speake w«.'th an hermitt here, giff I can with him hitt." Guy gays on to a:* "an hermitt i.s dead, I rnderstand, & here a hermitage stands vaeand, .024 as [I] doe vnderstand." 4 & there lie lined, the truth to say, till itt was his ending day, & serued christ our King j 528 he neuer eate other meate hut herbea and rootes greate, & dranke the water of a springe. empty hermitage near. He goes, Uvea on herbs, root-:, and wakr, 530 then lie hyred him a title page //"/t was hut 13 yeeres of age, he was both ff'ayre and ffeate B ; & euery day when the noone hell rang, the litle ladd to the towne must gang, to ffeiteh 6 the Ladyes liuerye. 7 and hia I daily at noon fetches the allowance to him. 1 as y* Lady did him tell. As the Ladye bade hiin till or tell. q.-P. 2 dinnere, q. — P. * to vard answer made, q. — P. 4 Half a Stanza or more 'wanting. These seem to be the Steward's words. —P. 1 MB. may be feale. — P. feate,q. — P. "both ffayre and ffeate was he." — Lyce. to fet, q.— P. 7 delivery, allowance of food. Fr. Livree, A deliuerie of a thing thats giuen ; and (but lease properly; the thing BO giuen; hence, a Liw-rie : Ones cloth, colours, or deuice in colours worn by his servants, or others. La Livree des Chanoines. Their liuerie, or corrodie; their stipend, exhibition, daillie allow- ance in victualls or money. Cotgrave. — F. 546 GUY AND COLEBRANDE. At last a death-sick- ness takes Guy; the Ladye was gladd, as I vnderstand ; shee gaue itt with her owne handes, 1 and gladd itt soe shold bee. 540 but there he lined, as sayth the booke, till a sicknesse there him tooke, that needlye 2 he must dye. an angel comes to him to warn him he shall die — one night as Sir Guy lay in vysion, 544 there came an Angell downe ffrom heauen to lett him vnderstand. he was as light as any leame, 3 as bright as any sunn beames. 548 w^th that wakened Sir Guy. 4 [page 356] St. Michael, from God. 552 He sayes, " I coniure in the power of Iesus christ 5 to tell me wether thou be an euill angell or a good ! " he sayd, " I hett Michall. I came ffrom him that can both loose and bind both mee, and thee, and all mankind, both heauen, earth, and hell." Sir Guy sends his page to tell his wife to come to him. & then Sir Guy his ring out raught 556 to the litle ladd, and him taught, & bidd he shold " goe snell 6 to her that hath beene true to mee, & pray her to come, my end and see ; 560 ffor nothing that shee dwell. 7 " The page gocT to the Countess, the litle lad made him bowne till he came to warwicke towne. 1 hand.— P. 2 so Chaucer, for needs must. — P. 3 Leame, leme, a flame, a Light, a blaze. Chaue. Urry. Jun. — P. A.-S. leoma. — F. 4 Sir Guy wakende, q. — P. 5 Jesus' blood, q. I conjure thee by y e Eoode. Qu. — P. 6 snell, celer, pernix, citus, agilis. A.-S. snel. Lye. — P. 7 dwelle, to stay, tarry. Chauc. Isl. dwelia, est cessare, morari. Jun. Lye. GUY AND COLEBRANDE. 54; the Countesse soone hee ffound ; 564 before her he kneeled on his knee ; saith, " well l greeteth you my Lore?, Sir Guy ! but he is dead neere hand, 2 tells her that Guy is dying, " & heere he hath sent to you his ringe, — 568 ffull well you know this tokeninge, — & bidds you hye him till." a squier wold haue brought her a pahTrey, but shee tooke a neerer stay ; and bids her come to him. 572 ffor knight ne squier none wold shee haue, but ffollow shee did the litle knaue 3 ; the way was ffayre and drye ; ffollow shee did the litle ffoot page 576 till shee came to the hermitage wheras her lord did lye ; She follows the page to the hermitage, & then the lady curteous & snell, vpon his bed-side downe shee ffell 580 with many a greeuous grone. hee looked vpon her with eyes 2," he neuer spake more words but these, saying, "Madam, lett be thy ffare 5 ! " and falls down by Guy, groaning grievously. He tells her to be still. 584 a man that had seene the sorrow shee ha^ 1 , & alsoe the contrition that shee made ffor her Lord, Sir Guy, they wold haue shed many salt teares 6 : 588 soe did all ^7i."' These combinations did much to advance the position of the working classes, as unions, with whatever ad- mixture of evil, have done since. How tremendous was their power some four years after those complaints were submitted to the royal ear and measures taken to satisfy them, is illustrated by the eagerness of the King to grant the four points of the charter the assembled mob then demanded of him. The roar of that mob was remembered for many a day. (See Chaucer's Nonne Prest his Tale.) Xor were there wanting at the same time those who advocated the claims of those insurgents on the most general grounds, who dealt with the question radically. Ideas fatal to the notion of thraldom were now growing into predominance in France, in Flanders, in England and elsewhere. The Church, however lax its practice, had again and again raised its voice against it. There is nowhere a nobler rebuke of it than that given by Chaucer's Parson — " Thilke that thay clepe thralles," he says, in that division of his discourse that treats of Avarice (" an adaptation of some chapters " of Frere Lorens' Somme des Vices et des Vertus: see Mr. Morris's Ayenbite of Inwyt, Pref. p. h\), "ben G-oddes people; for humble folk ben Crist es frendes ; thay ben contubernially with the Lord. Thenk eek as of such seed as eherles springen, of such seed springe lords ; as wel may the cherl be saved as the lord. The same VOL. II. 554 JOHN DE REEUE. deth that takith the cherl, such death takith the lord. Wherfor I rede do right so with thi cherl as thou woldist thi lord dide with the, if thou were in his plyt. Every sinful man is a cherl as to synne. I rede the certes, thou lord, that thou werke in such a wise with thy cherles that they rather love the than drede the." Such words as these said more perhaps than their utterer intended. Certainly, they enable us to understand how the position of the villain grew to be much more tolerable than its expressed conditions would have led us to expect. Moreover, the villain's hardships must have been greatly alleviated by that resolute independence which forms so promi- nent a feature in the native English character. The Englishman would prove but a stiff-necked, obstinate, troublesome slave — his self-willedness would go far to protect him from the worst excesses of the hardest master — his surliness would often serve him for a shield. This ballad gives us a view of both the private and public life of the churl. We see him as he goes abroad, and we see him in the security of his domestic comfort. He makes no secret of the cause of those fears which make him so chary of his hospitality, which induce him to cut such a sorry figure when out of doors. See v. 103 et seq., v. 199 et seq. &c. His personal appearance is described with great care in vv. 52-57, aud again in vv. 593- 650. He offers his guests the poorest food and liquor at first. (Compare the account of the poor widow's "sclender meel" in the Nonne Prest his Tale.) No doubt his fears were well grounded. " Thurgh his cursed synne of avarice," says the Parson whom we have already quoted, " comen these harde lordschipes, thurgh whiche men ben destreyned by talliages, custumes, and cariages more than here duete of resoun is ; and elles take thay of here bondemen amercimentes, whiche mighte more resonably ben callid extorciouns than mercymentis. Of whiche mersyments aud raunsonyng of bondemen, some lordes stywardes seyn that it JOHN DE REEUE. 555 is rightful, for as moche as a cherl bath no temporel thing that it nys his lordes, as thay sayn. But certes thise lordeshipes doon wrong that bireven here bondemen thinges that thay never gave hem.'' When the abolition of slavery was proposed in the first Parliament that met after Wat Tyler's insurrection, " with one accord," writes Knight (in his Popular History of England), " the interested lords of the soil replied that they never would consent to be deprived of the services of their bondmen. But they complained of grievances less inherent in the structure of society — of purveyance ; of the rapacity of law officers ; of main- tainers of suits, who violated right and law as if they were kings in the country ; of excessive and useless taxation." " I have no doubt," says Eden, " that the tax-gatherers were extremely par- tial to the rich and oppressive to the poor ; for notwithstanding the above instance of their scrupulous attention to levy the utmost farthing on petty tradesmen [certain instances he has quoted from the valuation of movable property made at Colches- ter in 1296, see Rot. Pari. i. 228], we find that the master and brethren of an hospital, besides their cattle and corn, only accounted for one household utensil, a brass pot, and an Abbot and a Prior paid only for their corn and their live stock. The Eector of St. Peter's seems to have been equally fortunate." But, on whatever account John de Peeve may make whatever pretence of direful penury, he is in fact a man of wealth. He may say with Horace's miser, "At mihi plaudo ipse domi." He says: '• I go girt in a russet gown, My hood is of homemade browne, I wear neither burnet nor green, And yet I trow I have in store A thousand pounds and some deal more, For all ye are prouder and fine. Therefore I say, as mote I thee, A bondman it is good to be, And come of carles kin ; o o 2 556 JOHN DE REEUE. For and I be in tavern set, To drink as good wine I will not let As London Edward or his Queen." The Earl said : " By godcs might, John, thou art a comely knight And sturdy in every fray." "A knight!" quoth John, "do away for shame! I am the King's bondman : Such waste words do away. ■' I know you not in your estate ; I am misnurtured, well I wot ; I will not thereto say nay. But if any such do me wrong I will fight with him hand to hand When I am clad in mine array." We must now commend this most interesting ballad to our readers. 1 1 The Editors have received the fol- lowing letter from Archdeacon Hale, whom they here beg to thank : Charterhouse, Dec. 18, 1867. Dear Sir, —I am obliged to you for the opportunity of reading the interesting ballad of "John de Reeve." That he designates himself as the King's bond- man, seems to me to imply that he was of villain rank. I think it probable that the king's bondmen, nativi and villains, were proud of their position, as being attached to royalty, and as having the privilege of tenants in ancient de- mesne, of not being impleaded or dis- trained except in the king's courts. It would seem from the Act of Richard the Second, of which mention is made in the preface, p. 552, that they made use of this privilege to withdraw their services from the lords of manors in which they were tenants, and that they were in reality leaders of that resistance to the rights of the lords which produced the disturbances of Tyler and Cade. Except ta'dlage ad voluntatem domini, none of the services due from the various classes of villains appear to me cruel or unjust, prsedial service being the rent paid for the possession of land by the villain class. I am inclined to think that as trade increased in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the tradesmen became pos- sessors of villain land, and that as those lands were accumulated in fewer hands, the prsedial service became more difficult to be rendered, as well as more unsuit- able to the personal position of the tenant, who might himself be a free- holder, Ubcr tenens, and yet possess villain land. John de Reeve had become rich ; his name implies that he had come from a family who held office, pos- sibly in a royal manor ; the house in which he lived having a hall and a dais, indicates the superior character of his tenement. I may also remark that his abode was in the south-west country, and that, to the best of my recollection, royal manors, and consequently tenants in ancient demesnes, abound in Wilts and Somerset. The description of his house would lead to the idea that he dwelt in the hall of the demesne. He was of the same freeledge (p. 564) as his two neighbours ; but it was after- wards (p. 593), that they were made JOHN DE REEUE. 5.57 [The First Part.] [How John at first avoids the King, and then takes him home.] vlOD : through thy might and thy mercy, all that loueth game and glee, their soules to heauen bringe ! 4 best is mirth of all solace ; therfore I hope itt betokens grace, of mirth who hath likinge. God bless all who love merriment ! 12 as I heard tell this other yeere, a clarke came out of Lancashire : a rolle l he had reading, a bourde 2 written therein he ffound, 3 that some time ffell in England, 4 in Edwards dayes our King. A Lanca- shire clerk found this story of Edward by East, west, north, and Southe, all this realme well run 5 hee cowthe, 6 castle, tower, and towne. freemen. I shall be very glad if what I have written should seem to throw light upon the condition of John de Reeve. And I remain, Yours very faithfully, W. H. Hale. Mr. Toulmin Smith, in a communica- tion made to the Editors, is of opinion that the Reeve " was the King's collector of local dues — in other words the Farmer of the taxes. He was in bond to the King (as all collectors still are) to remit truly, and hence, and not as a vassal, his bondsman. The collector would only be afraid of the King because he did not want it known what a capital bargain he had made, lest the price paid by him for his office should be raised." But there is nothing whatever in the ballad to justify this interpretation of the Reeve's fear. Nor are we prepared to acquiesce in the confusion of the terms " bondman " and " bondsman." — H. 1 rolle.— P. Qu. MS. rolde.— F. 2 i.e. Jest. Junius. — P. 3 fonde.— P. 4 Englonde, qu. — P. 5 i.e. run over. — P. 6 couthe, could. So, ' he ne couth,' He could not. Gloss, ad G. Doug. — P. 558 JOHN DE REEUE. 16 of that name were Kings 3 ; Longshanks. but Edward with, the long shankes was hee, a Lord of great renowne. One day, out hawking.the King loses all his as the HLmg rode a hunting vpon a day, 20 3 ffawcons * fflew away ; he ffollowed wonderous ffast. the rode vpon their horsses that tyde, they rode forth on euery side, 24 the country they out cast ; followers 28 ffrom morning vntill eueninge late, many menn abroad they gate wandring all alone ; the night came att the last ; there was no man that wist what way the King was gone, except a Bishop and an Earl. The three lose their way, saue a Bishopp & an Erie ffree 32 that was allwayes the king ffull nye, & thus then gan they say : " itt is a ffolly, by St. Iohn, ffor vs thus to ryde alone 36 soe many a wilsome 2 way; and the weather is very bad. 40 " a King and an Erie to ryde in hast, a bishopp ffrom his coste 3 to be cast, ffor hunting sikerlye. 4 the whether bappned 6 wonderous ill, all night wee may ryde vnskill, 6 nott wotting where wee bee." 1 3 [of his] fawc' Qu.— P. 2 wilsome, wilsum. Desert, solitary, wandering, i.e. "Wild: (Scotch) Gloss, to Ramsay's Evergreen, q.d.wildsome. Gloss, to G.D.— P. 3 province, district. — F. 4 surely, certainly : sicker, tain. Johns'? — P. 5 happneth, query. — P. 8 i.e. unskill'd.— P. but, cer- JOHN PE BEEUE. .559 then the ILing began to say, 44 "good Sir Bishopp, I yon pray some comfort, if yon may." as they stoode talking l all about, they were ware of a carle 2 stout : 48 " good deene, ffellow ! " can 3 they say. They see a man 52 then the Erie was well apayd 4 : " you be welcome, good ffellow ! " hee sayd, " of ffellowshipp wee pray thee ! " the carle ffull hye on horsse sate, 5 his leggs were short and broad, 6 his stirropps were of tree 7 ; on horseback a payre of shooes were 8 stiffe & store, 9 56 on his heele a rustye spurre, thus fforwards rydeth hee. the Bishopp rode after on his palfrey: " abyde, good ffellow, I thee pray, 60 and take vs home with thee ! " riding away from them. The Bishop asks him to stop, 64 The carle answered him that tyde, [ pa ge 358] " ffrom me thou gett oft noe other guide, I sweare by sweete St. Iohn ,0 ! " then said the Erie ware and wise, " thou canst litle of gentrise n ! say not soe ffor shame ! " but the man won't, 1 forte were stalking. — P. 2 Carle (ceorl.) Vir tenuioris atque obscurse sortis. idem ac churl &c. Jun. — P. The shape of the initial c in the MS. begins to change here frequently. It is made like an I instead of a foreign- er's c, accented. It might be printed C, but that the old form of the C is retained, as in Curteouslye, 1. 121. — F. 3 can, delend. — P. can is did. — F. 4 glad, letus. Jun. — P. 5 The rhyme requires rode. — Dyce. 6 [some deal] brade or braid — Lan- cassluVe Dialect. — P 7 i.e. wood.— P. treene, wooden, p. 181, 1. 1.— F. 8 Forte The shoes he ware were &c. —P. 9 stour, sture, great, thick, ingens crassus, Jun., stiff, strong, robust. Gloss, ad G. D.— P. 10 Jame, see st. 22? [1. 132]— P. 11 Genterice is still in use in Scotland, for gentility, honourable birth. See Gloss, to Ramsay's Evergreen. — P. 560 JOHN DE KEEUE. he has nothing to do with courtesy. the carle answered the Erie vnto, es " with gentlenesse ' I haue nothing to doe, I tell thee by my ffay." the weather was cold & euen rouerhe 2 : the ~King and the Erie sate and loughe, 72 the Bishopp did him soe pray. The King and Earl beg the man to stop, 76 the ~ELing said, " soe mote I thee 3 ! hee is a carle, whosoeuer hee be ! I reade 4 wee ryde him neere." the sayd 5 with words hend, 6 " ryd saftlye, gentle ffreind, & bring vs to some harbor." bnt he still rides on. The King tells them then to tarry the carle was lothe, 80 but rode forth as he was wrothe, I tell you sickerlye. the king sayd, " by mary bright, I troe 7 wee shall ryde all this night 84 in wast vnskillfiullye 8 ; to pull the man down. The Bishop asks him to stop. 88 " I ffeare wee shall come to no towne ; ryde to the carle and pull him downe kastilye without delay." the Bishopp said soone on hye, " abyde, good ffellow, & take vs with thee ! ffor my loue, I thee pray." 1 gentrise, qu. — P. 2 evening rough. — P. pronounced row. \>e Amyral bende ys browes rowe, & clepede is consaile. Kyng Sortybrant & obre ynowe ther come wyb-oute fayle. Sir Ferumbras, MS. Ashmole 33, fol. 26. Thow a Sarsens lied ye bere, Bow, and full of lowsy here. SJcelton, Poems against Garnescke, 1. 124. Works, ed. Dyce, vol. i. p. 123. — F. 3 thee, i.e. thrive. Lye P. 4 i.e. counsel: reade is counsel, con- silium. Junius. — P. 5 sayd [to him]. — P. 6 i.e. kind, hend, hende, i. e. feat, fine, gentle, forte, q.d. handy or handsome. Skinner, ab Isl. henta, i. e. decere. Lye. MS.— P. 7 trow, confido, opinor. Lye. — P. 8 without reason. 0. N. sJcil, reason. — F. JOHN DE REEUE. 561 the Erie said, " by god in heauen ! 92 oft men meete att vnsett steuen l ; to quite tliee well wee may." the carle sayd, " by St. Iohn I am 2 affraye of you eche one, 96 I tell you by my flay ! " The Earl says he'll pay him out some day. The man explains that he is afraid of them. 100 the carle sayd, " by Marye bright, I am afrayd of you this night ! I see you rowne 3 and reason, 4 I know 5 you not & itt were day, I troe you thinke more then you say, I am affrayd of treason. " the night is merke, 6 I may not see 104 what kind of men that you bee. but & you will doe one thiuge, swere to doe me not 7 desease, 8 then wold I ffaine you please, 108 if I cold, with ariy thinge." If they'll swear not to hurt him, he'll help them. 112 then sayd the Erie wi'th words fl'ree, " I pray you, ffellow, come hither to mee, & to some towne vs bringe ; & after, if wee may thee kenn, amonge Lords and gentlemen wee shall requite 9 thy dealinge." The Earl says, if he will, they'll reward him among Lords. "of lords," sayes hee, " speake no more 10 ! 116 with them I haue nothing to doe, nor neuer thinke to haue ; The man says he'll 1 i. e. unexpectedly : at a time un- appointed. Steven, tempus statutum. Jim. — P. See p. 386, note 3 , above. — F. 2 MS. ann.— F. 3 rowne, i.e. whisper. — P. 4 t. i. talk, as in Shakspere, &c. — Dyce. 5 forte knew. — P. 6 i. e. dark. — P. 7 no disease. — P. 8 prejudice, to make uneasy. see Johnson. — P. 9 forte, quite. — P. 10 moe. — P. Compare Aqueyntanse of lordschip wyll y noght, For, furste or laste, dere hit woll be bowght. — Proverbs from MS. Ii. iii., back of last leaf. Camb. Univ. Lib., in Beliq. Antia., vol. i. r. 205.— F. 562 JOIIN DE REEUE. never crouch to Lords. ffor I had rather be brought in bale, my hood or that ' I wold vayle, 2 120 on them to crouch or craue. 3 " The King asks him who lie is. The King's bondman, 124 the King sayd Curteouslye, " what manner of man aree yee att home in your dwellinge ? " "a husbandman, fforssooth I am, & the Kings bondman 4 ; thereof I haue good Likinge." tho' he never spoke to him. 128 132 " Sir, when spake you with our King ? " " in ffaith, neuer, in all my liuing ! he knoweth not my name ; & I haue my Capull 5 & my crofft 6 ; if I speake not with, the King oft, I care not, by St. lame ! " 1 or that, i. e. before that. — P. 2 vail, to let fall ; to suffer, to descend. in token of respect. Fr. avallcr le bonet. Johnson. — P. 3 Was John, like Chaucer's Peeve, ' a sklendre colericke man'? Among the marks of persons of ' Chollericke com- plexion ' are : ' The sixth is, they be stout stomached, that is, they can "suffer no injuries, by reason of the heate in them. And therefore Avicen sayth, That to take every thing impatiently signifieth heate. The seauenth is, they be liberall to those that honour them,' — as John says in lines 169, 243, he'll give the wanderers all they want, so that they be thankful : — ' The fourteenth is, he is wily,' — cp. the first bad supper, below ; — ' The eleuenth is, he is soone angry, through his hote nature '— as the King's porter experiences, 1. 731; — ' The thirteenth is, he is bold, for bold- nesse commeth of great heat, specially about the heart,' — cp. 1.304; — John's cow- ardice at first, 1. 97, was but prudence, the better part of valour. Also, he must have had a beard. ' The ninth is, a Cholericke person is hayry, by reason of the heate that openeth the pores, and moueth the matter of hayres to the skinne. And therefore it is a common saying, The Cholericke man is as hai/rie as a Goat.' On the other hand John must have had a cross of ' the sanguine person' in him, for ' Secondly, the Sanguine per- son is merry and jocond, that is to say, with merry words he moueth other to laugh, or else he is glad through be- nignity of the sanguine humour, pro- uoking a man togladnesse andjocondity, through cleare and perfect spirits iu- gendred of bloud. Thirdly, he gladly heareth fables and merry sports, for the same cause. . Fifthly, he gladly drinketh good Wine. Sixthly, he delighteth to feede on good meate, by reason that the sanguine person desireth the most like to his complexion, that is, good Wines and good meates.' Beqimen Sanitatis Sa- lerni, ed. 1634, p. 169-71.— F. 4 i. e. Vassall.— P. 5 capud, i. e. Jceyfil, Welch for a Horse. Lye. — P. 6 Croft est agellus prope domum rus- ticum. Lye. — P. JOHN DE REEUE. 503 [page 359] " what is thy name, ffellow, by thy leaue ? ' "marry," quoth, hee, " Iohn de Reeue x ; I care not who itt heare ; 136 fFor if yon come into my inne, 2 w/'th beeffe & bread yon shall beginn soone att yonr supper 3 ; " salt Bacon of a yeere old, 140 ale that is both sower & cold, 4 — I vse neither braggatt 5 nor beere, I lett yon witt w/thouten lett, I dare eate noe other meate, 144 I sell my wheate ech yeere." His name is John de Reeve ; he can feed them with stale bacon and sour ale : he brews no beer, for he sells his wheat, " why doe you, Iohn, sell yo?(r wheate? ' ! " ffor [I] dare 6 not eate that I gett. therof I am ffull wrothe ; 148 ffor I loue a draught of good drinke as well as any man that doth itt sell, & alsoe a good wheat loffe. " ffor he that ffirst 7 starueth Iohn de reeue, 152 I pray to god hee may neuer well 8 cheeue, 9 neither on water nor land, whether itt be 10 Sherriffe or King that makes such statuinge, 11 156 I outcept 12 neuer a one ! he dare not keep it, though he likes good drink and bread. May all who starve him come to grief I 1 Query, John the Reeve, i. e. Bailiff. Jun. See St. 7, P l . 3.— P. 2 inne, Sax. est cubiculum, caverna, diversorium domus. Inne, a house, ha- bilation. — P. 3 suppere. — P. 4 Non sit acetosa cervisia, sed bene claret . . . This text declareth fiue things, by which one may know good Ale and Beere. The first is, that it be not sower, for that hurteth the stomaeke. A sower thing (as Avicen saith in many places) hurteth the sinewes. And the stomaeke is a member full of sinewes, especially about the brim or mouth. Regimen Sani- tatis Scdemi, ed. 1634, p. 59.— F. 5 Chauc. Brakit, Camb. Br. bragod. A sweet drink made of honey & spices, used in Wales, &c. Urry's Gloss. — P. 6 I dare, Qu.— P. 7 first, defend, Qu. — P. 8 well, delend, Qu.— P. 9 thrive, qu. — P. Fr. chevir, to bring a business to a head, get well through it; from chef. — F. 10 MS. ber.— F. " statuing.— P. ,2 forte except. — P. An odd hybrid. Outtake is the older word. — F. 564 JOHN DE REEUE. He asks where they live. 160 " ffor and the Kings penny were Layd b} r mine, I durst as well as hee drinke the l wine till all my good 2 were gone, but sithence that wee are mett 3 soe meete, tell mee where is jour recreate, 4 you seeme good laddes eche one." The Earl says, In the King's house. John pro- mises to lodge them if the Erie answered with words ffaire, 164 " in the kings house is our repayre, ft if 6 wee hee out of the way." " this night," quoth Iohn, " you shall not spill ; such harbour I shall bring you till ; 168 I hett 7 itt you to-day. they are thankful, but if they're saucy he'll keep 'em out, 172 " soe that yee take itt thankeffullye in gods name & St. Iollye, I aske noe other pay ; & if you be sturdy & stout, I shall garr 8 you to 9 stand without, ffor ought that you can say. with the help of his two neigh- boui s, owned by the Bishop of Durham and the Earl of Glo'ster, " for I haue 2 neighbors won 10 by mee 176 of the same ffreeledge n that am I, of old band-shipp 12 are wee : the Bishopp of Durham this towne 13 oweth, the Erie of Gloster — who-soe him knoweth — 180 Lord of the other is hee. 1 the, delend .— P. 2 goods, qu. — P. 3 One stroke too many in the MS. — F. 4 ? MS. retreate, home.— F. 5 repair, resort, abode, the act of be- taking oneself any whither. Johnson. — P. 6 ? but,— F. 7 i. e. I promise, assure. — P. 8 cause. — F. 8 To, delend. Qu.— P. 10 i.e. dwell.— P. 11 frelcge, freedom, power, privilege: a quo forte corrupt. It is yet used in Sheffield. Pay. Gloss, ad G-. Doug, who has render'd Cui tanta Deo permissa potestas, Quhat God has to him grantit, sic frelege, St. 9, v. 97. — P. A.-Sax. freolac is A free offering, a sacrifice : but -lac and -ledge have the meaning of state, condition. — F. 12 a band, Vinculum, retinaculum, liga- men, nexus ; A.S. banda. — P. 13 Perhaps Tone, viz. the one of his Companions was vassal to the Bishop, vid. p. 66, V. 251 [of MS. ; vol. i. p. 159, 1. 466 of text].— P. JOHN DE REEUE. 565 " wist my neighbors that I were thratt, 1 I vow to god the wold not lett ffor to come soone to mee ; 184 if any wrong were to mee done, 9 wee 3 durst flight a whole afternoone, I tell you sikerlye." who'd fight all afternoon for him. the King sayd, " Iohn, tell vs not this tale ; 188 wee are not ordayned ffor battel!, 8 our weeds are wett and cold ; heere is no man that yee shall greeue. but helpe vs, Iohn, by jour leaue, 192 with bright a ffeeare 3 and bold." The King says their clothes are wet, they want a good fire. 196 " Ifaith," sayd Iohn, "that you shall want, ffor ffuell heere is wonderous scant, as I heere haue yee told, thou getteth noe other of Iohn de Reeue ; ffor the kings statutes, 4 whilest I Hue, I thinke to vse and hold. John says he can't give them that, as he is a bondman. " If thou find in my house payment ffme, 5 2uu or in my kitchin poultry slaine, peraduenture thou wold say that Iohn Reeue his bond hath broken : I wold not that such words weere spoken 204 in the kings 6 house another day, If he were to feed them well, 1 A.-S. \>reatian, to threaten, disquiet, distress. — F. a battayle. Chauc— P. 3 with a bright fire &c. — P. 4 ? referring to William the Conqueror's law that fires and lights were to be put out at the 8 o'clock curfew, and people go to bed. The evening must have been far advanced when John spoke. — P. 5 I would read 'If thou find in my house Pain de main,' fortasse corrupte pro pain de maino, i.e. white bread. So Chaucer, ' White was his face as paine de maine.' Rime of Sir Thopas. Lye. — P. ' Payman, a kind of cheese-cake.' Halliwell. Pyment or Piment was both a special honeyed and spiced wine, — see a recipe in Halliwell, — and also the general name for sweet wines: see Henderson's Hid., p. 283, and Babecs Book, &c, p. 202. If ' payment ' is used here for bread, as in 1. 428, part ii. below, then I suppose it means ' spiced bread.' — P. 6 To the King an :— P. 566 JOHN BE REEUE. it might get to some officials' ears, and injure him. 208 " ffor itt might turne me to great greeffe ' such, proud ladds that beare office wold danger a pore man aye ; & or I wold pray thee of mercy longe, yett weere I better 2 to lett thee gange in twentye twiine devills way. 3 " John takes the King, Bishop, and Earl to his hall. thus the rode to the towne : 212 Iohn de Reeue lighted downe beside a comlye hall. 4 4 men beliue 5 came wight 6 ; they hasted them ffull swyft 216 when they heard Iohn call ; the se»ved him honestly and able, And [led 7 ] his horsse to the stable, & lett noe terme misfall. [page 360] His wife welcomes them. 220 some went to warne their dame that Iohn had brought guests home. 8 shee came to welcome them tyte 9 in a side 10 kirtle of greene, 11 224 her head was dight all by-deene, 12 the wiffe was of noe pryde ; Her hair is white. her kerchers were all of silke, her hayre as white as any milke, 228 loue-some of hue 13 and hyde ; 1 Two letters are marked out after the g.-F. 2 Yt were better. — P. 3 ' twenty devil way ' is the ordinary phrase. — F. 4 Cp. Chaucer's description of the Reeve's 'wonying fair upon an heth.' Prol. Cunt. T. 1. 609.— F. 5 belive, instantly. Lye. — P. B wight, swift, nimble. Johnson ; also stotit, valiant, clever, active. Gloss? ad G.D.— P. 7 And [led] his &c— P. 8 I would read thus (St. 38) To welcome them that tyde Shee came in a side Kirtle &e. — P. 9 brot [3] guests hame. Qu. — P. 10 all. or, that tyde. — P. tyte, quicklv. —F. " i. e. long.— P. A.-S. sid, wide.— F. 12 bedetie, Scotch, is, immediately. Gloss? to Ramsays Evergreen ; a Germ. bedienen prsestare offieium. Gloss, ad G.D.— P. Dutch by dim, by this.— F. 13 ? MS. huid.— F. hue, Qu. See Egar & Grime, pa. — P. JOHN DE REEUE. 567 shee was thicke, & some deal broad, of comlye ffashyon was shee made, both belly, backe, and side. She is comely. 232 236 then Iohn called his men all, sayes, " build me a ffire in the hall, & giue their Capulls meate ; lay before them corne and hay ; ffor my loue rubb of the clay, ffor they beene weary and wett ; John orders a fire for his guests, and food for their horses. 240 "lay vnder them straw to the knee, ffor courtyes l comonly wold be Iollye, and haue but litle to spend." 244 then hee said, " by St. Iohn, you are welcome euery one, if you take itt thankefullye ! curtesy e I learned neu[e]r none, but after mee, ffellowes, I read you gone. till a chamber they went all 3 ; John bids them welcome, a charcole 2 ffire was burning bright, 248 candles on chandlours 3 light, Eche ffreake 4 might other see. . " where are yo;tr sords 5 P " q?witan, to cut off. — F. thytill, some weapon, perhaps a Dagger, so named from its being worn upon the thigh, thigh-till, syde is long; perhaps the verse showld be read " And a thytill a handful syde," i.e. a handful long: so a foot side, is a foot long. Vid. Stan. 26, P l 3?— P. Syde is also broad, wide. — F. 10 will full sharplye share. — P. 11 share. — P. 12 Acton, Fr[ench] Hocqueton, sagum militare: a kind of armour made of Taffity or leather, quilted thick, and stuck full of thread, fringe, &c. reaching from the neck to the knee, worn under the Habergeon, to save the body from Pruises &c. Skene's exposition of difficil words contain'd in the 4 bitiks of Kegiam Magestatem, 1641 Q'.° — ubi plura. — P. 13 stand a charge, fight ; last out. — F. JOHN DE REEUE. quoth Iohn, " I reede wee goe to the hall, 328 wee 3 ffellowes ; & peeres pay=for=all the proudest before shall fare." 571 But let's go to supper." thither they raked l anon-wright 2 : a char cole flyer burning bright 332 with manye a Strang 3 brand. the hall was large & some deale wyde, there bords were 4 couered on euerye syde, there mirth was comanded. 5 They go to the Hall, which has a fire in it, and tables laid. 336 then the good wiffe sayd w/th a seemlye cheere, " yowr supper is readye there." " yett watter, 6 " quoth. Iohn, "letts see." by then came Iohn's neighbors 2, 340 hobkin 7 long and hob alsoe : the ffirst ffitt here ffind wee. John's neighbours, Hobkin and Hodgkin, come in. 1 went. — F. 2 right.— P. 3 strong. — P. 4 wcrer in the MS. — F. 5 forte, at command. — P. 6 This was for washing hands. See Babces Book, p. 5, 1. 129, &c. Whewne that ye se youre lorde to mete shalle goo, Be redy to fecche him water soiie. — F. 7 Hodgkin, rid. infra. — P. r v 2 572 JOHN DE KEEUE. John arranges his guests : the King at top, the Bishop next his wife, the Earl near the King, [The Second Part.] [How John feasts the King, and dances with him.] Iohn sayd, " for want of a marshall, I will take the wand : l Peeres ffauconer before snail gange ; begin the dish 2 shall bee. goe to the bench, thou proud chaplaine, my wiffe shall sitt thee againe ; thy meate-fellow 3 shall shee bee." be sett the Erie against the King ; they were ffaine att his bidding. thus Iohn marshalled his meanye. 4 2:' parte. < his prettiest daughter next the King, the other by the Earl ; Then Iohn sperred 5 where his daughters were 352 " the ffairer shall sitt by the ffawconerc ; he is tbe best ffarrand 6 man : the other shall the Sompter man haue." the Erie sayd, " soe god me saue ! 356 of curtesye, Iohn, thou can. 7 " and says that if the King married one, 560 "If my selfe," quoth. Iohn, "be bound, 8 yett my daughters beene well ffarrand, I tell you sickerlye. Peeres, & tbou had wedded Iohn daughter reeue, there were no man that durst thee greeue neither ffor gold nor ffee. 1 John sa?d as marshal I'll take the wand &c. — P. Compare The Boke of Curtasye, Sloane MS. 1486, ed. Halliwell, Percy Soc, ed. Furnivall in Bahecs Book &c. E. E. Text Soc. 1868, Powre men J>erben \>at jerdis schalle here, Porter, marshalle, stuarde, vsshere; The porter schalle haue be lengest wande, The marshalle a schorter schalle haue in hande. 1. 352-6; Babces Book, $c. p. 309. In halle, marshalle alle men schalle sett After here degre, wz'tA-outen lett. 1. 403-4.— F. 2 deese, dais. — F. 3 i.e. Mess-mate. — P. 4 familia, multitude Lye. — P. 5 i.e. enquired. — P. 6 farrand, perhaps the same as far- ran tly, a word in Staffordshire signifying sufficient, handsome, proper &c. T. P. farand, farrant, beseeming, becoming, courteous, handsome. Gloss, to G-. Doug 3 . —P. 7 knowest.— F. 8 bende, or bande. — P. JOHN DE EEEUE. 573 " Sompter man, & thou the other had, 1 364 in o-ood ffaith then thou were made ffor euer in this cuntrye ; then, Peeres, 2 thou might 3 beare the prize. yett I wold this chaplaine had a benefize, 368 as mote 1 4 thariue 5 or three r ' ! and the Earl the other, they'd be made men. And as for the Bishop, 372 " in this towne a kirke there is ; & I were king, itt shold be his, he shold haue itt of mee ; yett will I helpe as well as I may." the King, the Erie, the Bishopp, can say, " Iohn, & wee Hue wee shall quitte thee." if he, John, were king, he'd give him their parish church. They all 3 promise to reward him. when his daughters were come to dease, 7 376 " sitt ffarther," quoth Iohn w/thouten Leaze, 8 " ffor there shalbe no more. 9 [page 3G2J these strange ffellowes I doe not ken ; peraduenture they may be some 10 gentlemen ; 380 therfore I and my neighbors towe, 384 " att side end bord wee u will bee, out of the gentles company e 12 : thinke yee not best soe ? ffor itt was neuer the Law of England ,3 to sett gentles blood w^th bound H ; therfore to supper will wee goe. 15 " John and his two neigh- bours sit at a side table. 1 yee— had, Qu.— P. » 2 Tho' Peeres, &c— P. 3 mo ught, mote. — P. 4 so mote I.— P. 5 Qu. MS. There is one stroke too few for thariue. " Thrive or thee " is the phrase intended. — P. 6 all three, Qu.— P. 7 Deis, erat altior & eminentior mensa in aula. The high table. See Jun. Deis, desk, bench, seat, table. Per metonym. adj., a feast, banquet, or entertainim-wt Et per al. meton. to set at deis with one (Lit. huspitium) is taken for friendship, alliance, or [cov]enant — P. 8 Lese, Lying, falsehood, treachery. Urry, Gloss, to Chaucer. — P. 9 moe. — P. 10 some delend. — P. 11 At side bcrd end wee &c. Vid. St. 15. At siden horde we &c. So with- outen for without. Shenstone. — P. 12 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 13 Englonde.— P. " bonde.— P. 15 wee' 11 go. — P. 574 JOHN DE REEUE. The supper is bean bread, salt bacon, broth, lean beef, sour ale. The King doesn't like it. John says he'll give him no better, unless they all swear not to tell the King. The King vows he'll never tell him, by then came in beane bread, 1 388 salt Bacon rusted and redd, & brewice 2 in a blacke dish, leane salt beefe of a yeere old, ale that was both sower & cold : 392 this was the ffirst service : eche one had of that ylke 3 a messe. the king sayd, " soe haue I blisse, snch service nerest 4 I see." 396 quoth Iohn, " thou gettest noe other of mee att this time but this." 5 " yes, good fellow," the King gan say, " take this service here 6 away, 400 & better bread vs brino-e ; & gett vs some better drinke ; we shall thee requite, as wee thinke, Without any letting." 404 q?toth Iohn, " beshrew the morsell of bread this night that shall come in jour head but thou sweare me one thinke ! swere to me by booke and bell 408 that thou shalt neuer Iohn Reeue bettell vnto Edward our kinge." quoth, the king, " to thee my truth I plight, he shall nott witt our service 7 412 no more then he doth no we, neuer while wee 3 liue in land." " therto," quoth Iohn, " hold vp thy hand, & then I will thee troe." 1 Compare the loaves of beans and bran baked for his children by the Ploughman. Vision, p. 89, 1. 270 ed. Skeat.— F. 2 Brewice, i.e. Broth, Pottage. Jun. — P. The ice stands over ish marked out. — F. 3 ilk, ipse that ilk, idem that same. Lye. — P. * never, or ne'er. — P. 5 Forte other [Meate or other Service] Q*. h John, at this Time, but this Thou gettest none of me. — P. 8 MS. herer.— F. 7 our service witt. Qu. — P. JOHN DE REEUE. 575 416 420 " loe," quoth the king, " my hand is heere ! " "soe is mine ! " quoth the Erie with a meny cheere, £heEar? y " thereto I giue god a vowe." " haue heere my hand ! " the Bishopp sayd. "marry," qwoth Iohn, "thou may hold thee well apayd, ffor itt is ffor thy power. 1 and Bishop. " take this away, thou hobkin 2 long, & let vs sitt out of the throng 424 att a side bords end ; these strange ffellowes thinke vncouthlye this night att our 3 Cookerye, such as god hath vs sent. 4 " 428 by them 5 came in the payment bread, •wine that was both white and redd in siluer cupp[e]s cleare. "a ha ! " qwoth Iohn, 6 " our supper begins with drinke ! 432 tasste itt, ladds ! & looke how 7 yee thinke, 8 ffor my loue, and make good cheere ! " of meate & drinke you shall haue good mire ; & as ffor good wine, wee will not spare, 4.36 I goe 9 you to vnderstand. 10 ffor euerye yeere, I tell thee thoe, 11 I will haue a tunn or towe of the best that may be ffound. 12 440 "yee shall see 3 Churles heere drinke the wine with a merry cheere ; I pray you doe you soe ; John orders the bad supper off, and then has in the good : spiced bread, and good wine. He tells them to taste his wine. There is plenty of it, rind the best that can be got. 1 Forte, Qu'k John yee may be well ap? For it is in my power now. — P. Power is for Prowe, profit, advantage ; Fr. prou. — F. 2 Hodgkin, vid. Infra. — P. 3 of our &c— P. 4 God doth us send. — P. 5 ? MS. then.— F. 6 Quoth John, &c. (a ha delend). — P. 7 Forte tell how &c— P. 8 Qu. slink, perhaps thinke. 9 Qu. give. — P. 10 understonde. — P. 11 thee now or true. — P. 12 fonde.— P. -P. 576 JOHN DE KEEUE. They'll all sup, and then dance. The Earl says the King can drink no better wine. Next come the boar's head, capons, venison, swans, curlews, herons, &c. & when our supper is all doone, 444 you and wee will dance soone ; letts see who best can doe." the Erie sayd, "by Marry bright, wheresoeuer the 'King lyeth this night, 448 he drinketh no better wine then thou selfe 1 does att this tyde." "infaith," q^oth Iohn, " soe had leeuer 2 I did then liue ay in woe & payne. 3 452 " If I be come of Carles kinne, part of the good that I may winne, [P a s e 3 63 -j some therof shall be mine, he that neuer spendeth but alway spareth, 456 comonlye oft 4 the worsse he ffareth ; others will broake 5 itt nine. 6 " by then came in red wine & ale, the bores head 7 into the hall, 460 then sheild 8 with sauces seere 9 ; Capons both baked & rosted, 10 woodcockes, venison, without bost, & dish meeate u dight ffull deere. 464 swannes they had piping hott, Coneys, curleys, 12 well I wott, the crane, the hearne l3 in ffere, 14 1 thyself.— P. 2 i.e. rather: I leever, legend. — P. 3 pine or pyne. Chauc. idem. — P. 4 oft, delend.—P. 5 to brouke, broke, to brook, bear ; To use, enjoy. Urry in Chauc. — P. 6 fine for finely. — P. 7 See the Carol, The boris hedefurst, in Mrs. Ormsby Gore's Porkington MS. No. 10. The carol is printed in Reliq. Antiq. vol. ii., Babees Book &c. p. 397. — F. 8 The swerd of Bacon is call'd the Shield : and the horny Part of brawn in some places. — P. a S ncre, sere, several ; many ; contract. Gloss, ad G. D. Russell says in 513-14, from sever, or severed. —P. 10 roste.— P. 11 sweet dishes, &c. his BoJce of Nurture, 1. Some mancr cury of Cookes crafft sotelly y haue espied, how J?eire dischmetes ar dressid with hony not claryfied. — F. 12 curlews. — P. 13 heron. See Riissell, in Babees Book, p. 143-4. Compare this feast with Pus- sell's Fcstfor a Franklen, B.B. p. 172-3. — F. H i.e. together, along. — P. JOHN DE KEEUE. /f *m *m pigeons, partrid[g]es, with spicerye, 468 Elkes, 1 fflomes, 2 with ffroterye. 3 Iolm bade them make good cheere. the Erie sayd, " soe mote I thee, lokn, you seme vs royallye ! 472 if yee had dwelled att London, 4 if king Edward where here, 5 he might be a-payd 6 with this supper, 7 such ffreindshipp wee haue ffound." 476 "Nay," sayd Iohn, "by gods grace, & Edward wher in 8 this place, hee shold not touch this tonne, hee wold be wrath with Iohn, I hope ; 480 thereffore I beshrew 9 the soupe 10 that shall come in his mouth n ! " theratt the T£mg laughed & made good cheere. the Bishopp sayd, " wee fare well heere ! " 484 the Erie sayd as him thought. they spake lattine amongst them there 12 : " infayth," q«oth Iohn, " and yee greeue mee, ffull deere itt shalbe bought. 488 " speake English euerye-eche one, 13 or else sitt still, in the devills name ! such talke loue I naught. 14 Lattine spoken amongst Lewd 15 men, 492 therin noe reason ffind I can ; ffor ffalshood itt is wrought. partridges, tarts &c. The Earl says it's a royal feast ; the King might be pleased with it. " If he were here, he shouldn't have a scrap." says John. They talk Latin together. John tells thern to talk English, 1 ' Elk, a wild swan. Northern.' Ilal- liwell. ? yelk, some dish of eggs. — F. 2 ? flauns, a kind of cheesecake. — F. 3 fruterye, fruit collectively taken, fruiterie Fr. Johnson. — P. Fritters, I have no doubt. See them in Russell's Boke of Nurture (p. 168-70 Babces Book) and many other Bills of Fare. — F. 4 Forte As ye at London won'd. — P. 5 Edward's self were heere. — P. 6 to appay, to satisfy, to content, hence ' well appaid ' is pleased. ' ill appayd ' is uneasy (Fr. appayer). Johns. — P. 7 suppere. — P. 8 MS. wherin. — F. were in. — P. 9 beshrew, verbuwj malepreeantis. Jun. — P. 10 sup, soupe. — P. 11 That in his Mouth sholde come. — P. 12 perhaps " three."— P. 13 everiche one. — P. 11 not, or hold I naught. — P. 15 Lewd, i.e. Laymen. Johnson. — P. 578 JOHN DE REEDE. he doesn't like whisper- ing, it's traitors' work "row[n]ing, 1 I loue itt 2 neither young nor old ; therefore yee ought not to bee to hold, 496 neither att Meate nor meale. hee was ffalse that rowning began ; theerfore I say to you certaine I loue itt neuer a deale : and not to be tolerated by any courteous host. The Earl promises to leave off. 500 " that man can [nought] of curtesye that lets att his meate rowning bee, 3 I say, soe haue I seile. 4 " the Erie sayd right againe, 504 " att your bidding wee will be baine, 5 wee thinke you say right weele." Then sweets come in, and John proposes that they shall be merry by this came vp ffrom the kitchin sirrupps 6 on plates 7 good and nine, 503 wrought in a ffayre array. " Sirrah, 8 " sayth Iohn, " sithe wee are meti, & as good ffellowes together sett, lett vs be blythe to-day. and he and his mates shall 512 " Hodgkin long, & hob of the Lath, 9 you are counted good ffellowes both, 10 now is no time to thrine 1 1 ; 1 rowning, they are used promiscously in Chauc 1 : — P. 2 in, qu. ; or loved neither. — P. 3 John is right here. Whispering is strictly forbidden by the old Books of Courtesy, &c. " Loke bou rownde not in no mannys ere." Babies Bool; p. 20, 1. 54. Looke that ye be in rihte stable sylence, Withe-oute lowde lauhtere or Iangelynge, Bovnynge, Iapynge or other Insolence. ib. p. 253, 1. 93-5. Bekenyng, fynguryng, won bou vse, And pryue rownyng loke thou refuse. BoJce of Curtas//e, 1. 250, Bab. Book, p. 306. 4 seil, Scotch, i.e. prosperity, happi- ness. Gloss? to Bamsay's Ever-green. a Teut. sclig. &c, bcatus, felix. Gloss. ad G. D.— P. 5 so bane in G. Doug, is ready. M. 3, v. 96, Antiquam exquirite matrem : ' to seik zour auld moder make ze bane.' perhaps for bourne, metri gratia. Gloss. ad G. Doug.— P. 6 Compare Kussell, 1. 509, (in Babecs Book tfc.) speaking of cooks : Some with Sireppis (Sawces), Sewes and soppes. — P. 7 forte platters. — P. 8 Forte Sirs. — P. Sirrahs. — Dyce. 9 Lathe.— P. 10 baith.— P. 11 The German thranen, to run over, weep, is the only word I can suggest for this, though it could hardly become thrine. A.-S. Ipringan is to throng, crowd, press. Trine, to hang. Halliwell. — P. JOHN DE REEUE. 579 this wine is new come out of ffrance ; 516 be god ! me list well to dance, therfore take my hand in thine ; "ffor wee will ffor our guests sake hop and dance, & Reuell make." 520 the truth ffor to know, vp he rose, & dranke the wine : " wee must haue powder of ginger therein," Iohn sayd, as I troe. 524 Iohn bade them stand vp all about, " & yee shall see the carles stout dance about the bowle. Hob of the lathe l & Hodgkin long, 528 in ffayth you dance jour mesures wrong ! methinkes that I shold know. " yee dance neither Gallyard 2 nor hawe, 3 Trace 4 nor true mesure, as I trowe, 5 [page 3G4] 532 but hopp as yee were woode." when they began of ffoote to ffayle, the tumbled top ouer tayle, & Master and Master they yode. 536 fforth they stepped on stones store 6 ; Hob of the lathe lay on the more, his brow brast out of blood. " ah, ha ! " Quoth. Iohn, " thou makes good game ! 540 had thou not ffalled, wee had not laught ; thou gladds vs all, by the rood." lliUI.-r. John stands up with Hob and ' Hodgkin , and they dance till they tumble down. John laughs at Hob, 1 lathe est korreum ; a Corn-houso, a Grange. Jim. — P. 2 A quick and lively dance introduced into tkis country about 1541. Halliwell. — F. 3 Hay, Qu. Dance tke Hay.— P. A round country dance. Halliwell. — F. 4 Trasinge, ap 1 ? G. Douglas, is ex- plain'd in y° Gloss., ' stepping, walking softly,' from the Fr. trace, a step ; but it is join'd with dancing in y e follows? g Passage : The harpis & gythornis playis attanis, Upstert Troyanis, & syne Italianis And gan do doubil brangillis & gambettis Dansis & roundis trasing mony gatis. 5 Forte, as I say. — P. 6 store, stour, sture, ingens, crassus. Lye.-P. 580 JOHN DE HEEUE. and pulls him up. They begin to play at kicks. Iohn Lent l vp liobb 2 by the hand, 3 sayes, " niethinkes wee dance our measures wronge, 544 by him that sittetb in throne." then they began to kicke & wince, 4 Iohn hitt the king ouer the shinnes With a payre of new clowted shoone. an 1 the King has a merry night. 54S sith K.ing Edward was mad a knight, had he neuer soe merry a night as he had with Iohn de Reeue. 5 to bed the busked them anon, 552 their liueryes 6 were serued them vp soone with a merry cheere ; Next morning they hear Mass, breakfast, promise John a reward, & thus 7 they sleeped till morning att prine 8 in ffull good sheetes of Line. 556 a masse 9 he garred them to haue, & after they dight them to dine with boyled capons good & ffine. the Duke sayd, 10 " soe god me saue, 560 if euer wee come to our abone, 11 we shall thee quitt our Barrison 12 ; thou shalt not need itt 13 to craue." 1 i.e. held. Lye.— P. 2 The first b is made over a p in the MS.— F. 3 hond or wrang. — P. 4 Winche, to kick. Halliwell.— P. 5 the Reeve, or John Hceve there. — P. 6 Allowances of meat and drink &c. ' Lyneray he hase of mete and drynke.' Boke of Curtasye, 1. 371, Babees Book, p. 310. Bouge of Court it is called in Household Ordinances, t. Edw. IV. — F. 7 there.— P. 8 prime sic legerit. Lye, D. forte morn? prime, or morn at prime. — P. 9 perhaps Mess. — P. Mass was heard by all in the morning. — F. 10 The Erie said.— P. 1 ■ Fortasse Wone. — P. Ahofc is ahode, dwelling (Halliwell); abone, above. — F. 12 Warrison [gift, reward] see PI Z T . A St. 40.— P. 13 it delend.— P. JOHN DE HKEUE. 581 [The Third Part.] [How the King invites John to court, and rewards him.] the king tooke leaue att man & mayde J ; 564 Iolin sett him in the rode way ; to windsor can hee 2 ryde. Then all the court was ffull faine that the king was comen againe, & thanked chr[i]st that tyde. the Ierfawcons were taken againe ^ in the fforrest of windsor without laine, 3 572 the Lords did soe provyde, they thanked god & S' Iollye. to tell the Queene of their harbor 4 the lords had ffull great pryde. and take their leave. King Edward is welcomed at Windsor. They tell the Queen about John de Reeve, The Queene sayd, " Sir, by yowr leaue, 576 I pray you send ffor that Noble Reeue, that I may see him with sight." the Messenger was made to wend, & bidd Iohn Reeue goe to the King 580 hastilye with all his might. and she asks the King to tend for him. A messenger tells John to come to the King. 584 Iohn waxed vnfaine 5 in bone & blood, saith, " dame, to me this is noe good, my truth to you I plight." " you must come in jour best array." " what too," sayd Iohn, "Sir, 1 thee pray ? " " thou must be made a Knight." He is put out at first, 1 may. — Dyce. 2 gan he &c. — P. Can means did. — F. 3 MS. laime.— F. Vid. Stanz. 45.— P. 4 forte harborye, or harbcrye. — ] lodging. — F. 5 displeased, literally 'unglad.' — P. 582 JOHN I)E REEUE. thinks his late guests have pot him into a scrape ; " but never mind, wife, fetch my armour, pitchfork, and sword." "a knight," sayd Iohn, "by Marry myld, 588 I know right well I am beguiled w/tli the guests I harbord late. to debate they will me bring ; yett cast l I mee ffor nothinge 502 noe sorrow ffor to take ; " Allice, ffeitch mee downe my side Acton, my round pallett 2 to my crowne, is made of Millayne 3 plate, 59G a pitch-fforke and a sword. 4 " slice sayd shee was affrayd 5 this deede Avoid make debate. The scabbard is torn. John calls for leather and a nail to mend it, and tries to pull the blade out. Allice ffeitched downe his Acton syde ; 600 hee tooke itt ffor no litle pryde, yett must hee itt wcare. the Scaberd was rent withouten doubt, a large handfull the bleade 6 hanged out : 604 Iohn the Reeue sayd there, "gett lether & a nayle," Iohn can say, " lett me sow itt 7 a chape to-day, Lest men scorne my geere. fi^ge 3G5] 608 Now," sayd Iohn, " will I see [w]hether 8 itt will out lightlye or 9 I meane itt to weare." Iohn pulled ffast att the blade : 612 (I wold hee had kist my arse that itt made ! ) he cold not gett itt out. 1 to cast, to calculate, to reckon, com- pute. Item, to contrive, to turn the thoughts. Johnson. — P. 2 Pallat, in G. Doug 9 , is used for caput. Scot. bor. pallet or pallat is the crown of the Head or Skull. Gloss, ad G. Doug 3 Hence it should signify here an Helmet or Skull-cap — P. 3 See note 2 , vol. i. p. 68.— F. 4 forte sweard. — P. 5 affear'd.— P. 6 blade.— P. 7 Forte sow in. in, qy. — P. Chape, the hook of a scabbard ; the metal part at the top. Halliwell. — F. 8 whether. — P. 9 or, i.e. before. — P. JOHN DE IiEEUE. 583 Allice held, & Iolm draughe, 1 either att other ffast loughe, 2 616 I doe yee out of doubt. Iohn pulled att the scaberd soe hard, againe a post he ran backward & gaue his head a rowte. 3 620 his wiffe did laughe when he did ffall, & soe did his 4 meanye all that were there neere about. His wife holds, he pulls, and lie falls back against a post. His wife and men laugh at him. Iohn sent after his neighbors both, 5 624 Hodgkine long & hobb of the lath. 6 they were beene 7 att his biddinge. 3 pottles of wine 8 in a dishe they supped itt 9 all off, as I wis, 628 all there att their partinge. Iohn sayd, " & I had my buckler, 10 theres nothing that shold me dare, I tell you all in ffere. 11 632 ffeitch me downe," q?ioth he, " my gloues they came but 12 on my 13 hands but once this 22 14 yeere. " ffeitch mee my Capull," sayd hee there. 636 his saddle was of a new manner, 15 his stirropps were of a tree. 16 " dame," he sayd, " ffeitch me wine ; I will drinke to thee 17 once againe, 640 I troe I shall neuer thee see. He sends for Hodgkin and Hob, to drink and take leave of him. Then he calls for his gloves, his horse, and more wine. 1 drowghe, Chaue. r , i.e. drew. — P. or lowghe, i.e. laughed. or violent stir. Devon. 2 lough, Chauc/. —P. 3 Great Hall. —P. 4 hits in the MS.— F. 5 baith.— P. 6 Lathe.— P. . 7 Qu. bowne, bane, bayne, Vid. P^ 2. St. 29 [t.i. 28 of MS., 1. 501 above].— P. 8 MS. wime.— P. 9 itt, delend, eenseo. — P. 10 bucklere.— P. 11 in fere, together, intire, wholly. Gloss, ad G.D.— P. '- delend. Qu.— P. 13 came upon my. — P. 1 ' two & twentye. — P. 15 mannere. — P. 16 of tree.— P. wood.— F. " An upright stroke, which may be for 1, stands between thee and once. — P. 584 JOHN DE KEEUE. ITo, Eodgkin, and Hob drink five gallons ; G44 " Hotlgkin long, & hob of the lathe, tarry & drinke with me bothe, 1 ffor my cares are ffast commannde. 2 " they dranke 5 gallons verament : " Harwell ffellowes all present, ffor I am readye to gange ! " and Hodgkin heaves him on to his mare. When he gets to Windsor Castle, the porter won't let him in, Iohn was soe combred in his geere 648 bee cold not gett vpon his mare till hodgkinn heaue vp 3 behind. " Now ffarwell, Sir, by the roode ! ' : to neither Knight nor Barron good 652 his hatt he wold not vayle till 4 he came to the Kings gate : the Porter wold not lett him in theratt, nor come within the walle, 656 till a Knight came walking out. they sayd, " yonder standeth a carle stout in a rusticall array e." on him they all wonclred wright, 6 660 & said he was an vnseemelye wight, & thus to him they 6 gan say : and the servants chaff him. " bayle, ffellow ! where wast thou borne? thee beseemeth ffull well to weare a home ! 664 where had thou that ffaire geere ? I troe a man might seeke ffull long, one like to thee ar that hee ffound, 7 tho he sought all this yeere." 1 bathe or baith. — P. 2 i.e. are coming fast. ac coming. — P. 3 hove up. — P. *. when. Qu. — P. 5 right.— P. comancl, idem 6 they de/end.—P. 7 fonde.— P. ? ffong, got hold of.- Dyce. JOHN DE REEUE. 585 668 672 Iohn bade them kisse the devills arse ' : "ffor you my geare is much the worsse 2 ! you will itt not amend, by my ffaith, that can I lead ! vpon 3 the head I shall you shread but if you hence wende ! " the devill him speede vpon his crowne that causeth 4 me to come to this towne, 676 whether he weare Iacke or Iill ! what shold such men as I doe heere att the kings Manner 5 ? I might haue beene att home still." John says he'll crack their crowns if they don't go. The devil take the fellow who brought him there 1 680 as Iohn stoode fflyting 6 ffast, he saw one of his guests come at the last ; to him he spake ffull bold, to him he ffast ffull rode, 7 684 he vayled neither hatt nor hood ; sayth, " thou hast me betold ! [page 366] " full well I wott by this light that thou hast disdainde mee right ; 688 ffor wrat[h] I waxe neere wood ! " The Erie sayd, "by Marry bright, Iohn, thou made vs a merry night ; thou shalt haue nothing but good." Then John sees his guest, the Earl, and reproaches him with having told of him. The Earl says he won't be hurt, 692 the Erie tooke leaue att Iohn Reue, sayd, " thou shalt come in without greefe ; I pray thee tarry a while." 1 Erse, Chauc.— P. 2 werse, Chauc. — P. 3 MS. vpan or vpora. — F. 4 Forte caused. — P. 5 Maimere.— P. Dwelling, mansion. -F. 6 To flyte, i.e. to chide, is still in use in Scotland. Gloss? to Kamsay's Ever- green, flyt, to scold, chide. A.-S. flitan, contendere, rixari. Gloss, ad G. Doug 5 . —P. 7 full faste rode. — P. VOL. II. Q Q 586 JOHN DE REEUE. and goes to tell the dug that John is at the gate. the Erie into the hall went, 696 & told the 'King verament that l Iohn Reeue was att the gate ; " to no man list hee lout. a rusty sword gird 2 him ahout, 700 & a long ffawchyon, I wott. 3 " King Edward orders John to be brought in to table. The Earl describes John's armour, his knifj, gloves, and temper. the King said, " goe wee to meate, & hringe him when 4 wee are sett ; our dame shall haue a play." 704 " he hath 10 arrowes in a thonge, some are short & some are long, the sooth as I shold say ; "a rusty sallctt 5 vpon his crowne, 708 his hood were made home browne 6 ; there may nothing him dare ; a thytill hee hath ffast in his hand that hangeth in a peake band, 7 712 & sharplye itt will share. "he hath a pouch hanging ffull wyde, a rusty Buckeler on the other syde, his mittons 8 are of blacke clothe. 716 who-soe to him sayth ought but good, 9 [I swear it to you by the rood,] ffull soone hee wilbe wrothe." John tells the porter to let him in. then Iohn sayd, " Porter, lett mee in ! 720 some of my goods thou shalt win ; I loue not ffor to pray." 1 That delend.—P. 2 girdeth. — P. 8 weet. Item, wate, wat, i.e. know, knew, wot. Gloss, ad G. D. — P. 4 him in, when. — P. 5 Aliter salad, a Gallic. Salade, a Head- piece. Celada, or Zelada, Spanish. Lye. vid. St. 6, P'. 3? [1. 594 above].— P. 6 of homespun browra : or rather, was of homemade brow[n]. See P 1 : 1, St. 48 [1. 284 above].— P. 7 See the Picture of Chaucer. — P. 8 Cp. Twey mitteynes as meter. Piers Plowman's Crede. — F. 9 A line wanting. — P. JOHN DE EEEUE. 587 the Porter sayd, " stand abacke ! & thou come neere I shall thee rappe, 724 thou carle, by my flay ! " The porter says he'll give him a rap. 728 John tooke his fforke ! in his hand, he bare his fforke on an End, he thought to make a ffray ; his Capull was wight, 2 & corne ffedd ; vpon the Porter hee him spedd, and him had welnye slaine. 3 On which John charges him with his pitchfork, nearly kills him, he hitt the Porter vpon the crowne, 732 with that stroke hee ffell downe, flbrsooth as I you tell ; & then hee rode into the hall, & all the doggs both great & small 4 736 on Iohn ffast can the yell. 5 and then rides into the King's hall, 740 Iohn layd about as hee were wood, & 4 hee killed as hee stood ; the rest will now be ware, then came fforth a squier hend, & sayd, " Iohn, I am thy ffreind, I pray you light downe heere." killing four of his dogs on the way. One squire asks him to dismount ; another sayd, " giue me thy fforke," another, to * ° J give up his 744 & Iohn sayd, " nay, by S? William of Yorke, 6 fork ; ffirst I will cracke thy crowne ! " 1 forke. Perhaps stocke, which is used by Gawat'n Doughs for a dagger, rapier, iEn. 7, 669, " veruque sabello " being render' d " with stokkis sabellyne." ab Ital. stoico, ensis longior. Gloss, ad G. D. Stock, caudex, Truncus. Jun. It signifies also the handle of anything. Johnson. A staff or long Pole. — P. John's tool is of course his two-grained pitchfork that he describes in line 319, and asks for in line 596 above. — F. 2 Vid. Pt, 1, St. 36.- 3 did well-nye slay.- -P. -P. 4 Dogs had possession of the whole of the houses in Early English days. See the directions for turning them out of the lord's bedroom in Russell, the Sloane MS. Boke of Curtasye, &c. in Babees Book, p. 182, 1. 969 ; p. 283, 1. 93, p. 69.— F. 5 gan to yell. — P. 6 ? what saint. — F. Q Q 2 .-,S,M JOHN DE HEEUE. a third, his eword and helmet. He must bo very stupid not to see in u ho e pre- sence lie is. " What the devil's that tn vim ?" Bays John. "I shall wear my sword." Tin- no. vii ,\ ho he ci(/( be. John rides on, with his pitchfork at the charge, and frightens the Queen. another sayd, "lay downe fchy sword ' ; sett vp thy liorssc ; be not affeard ; 748 thy bow, good Iolm, lay downe ; " I shall hold your stirroppe ; doe of yoitr pallett & yowr hoode ere tin' ffall, us 1 troe. 752 yee see not who sittcth att the meatc ; yee are a wonderous silly ffreake, & alsoe passing sloe 2 ! " " wind devill," Bayd Iolm, " is that ffor thee 3 ? 756 itt is my owne, soe mote I thee ! therforc I Avill itt weare." the Queene beheld liim in bast : " my lord, 4 " shee sayd, " ffor gods ffast, 760 who is yonder that doth ryde ? such a ffellow saw I neuer yore 5 ! slice saith, " hco hath the cmaintest geere, he is but simple of pryde." [page 367] 764 right soe came Iohn as hee were wood ; he vayled neither liaft nor hood, he was a Salej '' ffreake ; he tooke his fforkc as hee wold lust ; 768 vp to the dease 7 ffast he itt thrust, the Queene ffor ffeare did spcake, & sayd, " lords, beware, ffor gods grace ! ffor hee 8 will ffrowte 9 some in the fface 772 if yee take not good heede ! " 1 swerde. — P. 2 .slow.— P. 3 y° deuill . . is that to thee— P. 4 my Lords. Qn.^ — P. 5 yore, jamdudum, jam olim. Jun. perhaps here. — P. 6 perhaps stately. — P. ? Fcrlcy,vioi\- derful.— P. 7 Dease, or Deis. See P'. 2 lolIN DE REEUE. makes him a gentleman, gives him his house and 100/. a year. 800 the "King sayd vntill him then, " Iolm, I make thee a gentleman ; thy manner place ' I thee giue, & a 100'? to thee and thine, 2 804 & euery yeere a tunn of red wine soe long as thou dost Hue." John kneels and thanks the King, who then puts a collar on him, and knights him . but then Iolm began to kneele : " I thanke you, my Lord, as I haue soule, 3 808 therof I am well payd. 4 " thee ILing tooke a coller bright, & sayd, " Iohn, heere I make thee a knight w/th worshippe." when hee sayd, John fears that a rope will follow the collar, and doesn't like it. 812 then was Iohn euill apayd, 5 & amongst them all thus hee sayd, " ffull oft I haue heard tell that after a coller comes a rope ; 81 G I shall be hanged by the throate ; methinkes itt doth not well." But they tell him he must sit in the chief place. 6 " sith thou hast taken this estate, that euery man may itt wott, r 820 thou must begin the bord." then Iohn therof was nothing ffaine- I tell you truth w/th-outen laine, 8 — he spake neuer a word, He does so, wishing himself at home. 824 but att the bords end he sate him downe ; ffor hee had leeuer beene att home then att all 9 their ffrankish 10 ffare ; dwelling place. -F. 1 place delend. — P. -F. 2 aid thime in the MS. 3 sele or seil. — P. 4 forte apayd, i.e. content. — P. 5 i.e. sad, tristis. (See Jun s ) uneasy. -P. 6 somethmg is wanting here. — P. 7 wate, or weet. — P. 8 lean, celare, occultare, ab. Isl. leina, launa, occultare. Lye. — P. 9 All is redundant. — P. 10 frank, liber, liberalis. Jun. — P. JOHN DE REEUE. 591 ffor there was wine, well I wott ; 328 royall meates of the best sortes were sett before him there. 832 a gallon of wine was put in a dishe ; Iolm supped itt of, both more & lesse. " ffeitch," Qtwth the K.ing, " such more. 1 " " by my Lady, 2 " Quoth Iohn, " this is good wine ! lett vs make merry, ffor now itt is time ; Christs curse on him that doth itt spare 3 ! " He drinks off a gallon of wine, and wants to make merry. 836 with that came in the Porter 4 hend & kneeled downe before the King, was all 5 berunnen G with blood, then the ~K:ing in hart was woe, 840 sayes, " Porter, who hath dight thee soe ? tell on ; I wax neere wood." The porter comes in all over blood. " Who did this ? " says the King. " Now infaith," sayd Iohn, " that same was I, for to teach him some curtesye, 844 7 ffor thou hast taught him noe good. [page 368] for when thou came to my pore place, With mee thou found soe great a grace, 8 noe man did bidd thee stand without ; " I," says John, "to teach him manners. When you came to me, if anyone had told you to 848 " ffor if any man had against thee spoken, his head ffull soone I shold haue broken," Iohn sayd, " with-outen doubt, therfore I warne thy porters ffree, 852 when any man [comes] out of my 9 Countrye, another 10 [time] lett them not be soe stout. stop outside, I'd have broken his head. Your porters mustn't be so saucy next time." 1 mare or mair.— P. 2 forte our Lady. — P. 3 on them that spare.— 4 MS. Porters.— F. 5 One was all &c. — P. 6 MS. berumen.— F. 7 For none thou hast him taught. Qu. —P. 8 None bade thee stand wzYhout. — P. 9 Any come out, or comes from my &c— P. 10 delend another. — P. 592 JOHN 1)E KEEUE. " ifboth lliy porters goc walling ' wood, begod I shall reaue 2 their hood, 856 or goe on ffoote hoote. but thou, Lord, hast after me sent, & I am come att thy comwiandement hastily e w< thou ten doubt." The King acknow- tliat his porter was in limit, but makes John kiss him and be friends. 800 the King sayd, " by St. lame ! Iohn, my porters were to blame ; yee did nothing but right." he tooke the case into his hand ; 8C4 then to kisse 3 hee made them gange ; then laughed both Kmg and Knight. "I pray you," q?wth the King, "good ffellows bee." " yes," qitoth Iohn, "soe mote I thee, 8G8 we were not wrathe 4 ore night." The Bishop promises to put John's two sons to school, 872 then they 5 Bishopp sayd to him thoe, " Iohn, send hither thy sonnes 2 ; to the schoole 6 I shall them ffind, & soe god may for them werke, that either of them haue a kirke if ffortune be their ffreind. and says the King; will find his daughters good husbands. "also send hither thye daughters both 7 ; 876 2 marryages the Kmg will garr them to haue, 8 & wedd them with, a ringe. 1 walling, i.e. boiling, fervent; S. wcllan . Lye. — P. 2 reave, i.e. bereave (like as reft is for bereft) to take away by stealth or violence. Johnson, (used rather for rive, i.e. cleave.)— P. 3 Cp. Chaucer's making the Host and Pardoner kiss. Cant. Tales', end of The Pardoneres Tale : ' And ye, sir host, that ben to me so deere, I pray yow that ye kisse the pardoner ; ' And pardoner, I pray you draweth yow ner, And as we dede, let us laugh and playe.' Anon thay kisse, and riden forth her waye. v. iii., p. 105, 1. 502-6, ed. Morris.— F. 4 wrothe. — P. 5 the.— P. 6 Forte At schoole. — P. 7 baith.— P. 8 gar them have. — P. JOHN DE REEUE. 593 880 went * fforth, Iohn, on thy way, looke thou be kind & curteous aye, of meate & drinke be neu[e]r nithing. 2 " 884 then Iohn tooke leaue of Kmg & Queene, 3 & after att all the court by-deene, & went fforth on his way. he sent his daughters to the King, & they were weded with, a ringe vnto 2 squiers gay. John takes leave of the Court. The King marries his daughters to two squires ; his sonnes both harclye & wight, 888 the one of them was made a Knight, & fresh in euery ffray ; the other a parson of a kirke, gods seruice ffor to worke, 892 to god serue 4 night & day. knights one of his sous, gives the other a living, 896 thus Iohn Reeue and his wiffe With mirth & Iolty 5 ledden their liffe ; to god they made Laudinge. Hodgikin long & hobb 6 of the lathe, they were made ffreemen bothe 7 through the grace of the Kmg bend. 8 and makes Hodgkin and Hob freemen. then thought [John] 9 on the Bishopps word, John de R-6GVG 900 & euer after kept open bord keeps open house ffor guests that god him send ; till death ffeitcht him away till he dies. to the blisse that lasteth aye : 904 & thus Iohn Reeue made an end. 1 wend. — P. 2 Nithing, nequam, naught, It. a das- tard poltron : here it seems to mean niggardly. — P. A.-S. nixing, a wicked man, an outlaw, — Bos worth, — later, a niggard. — F. 3 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 4 to serve God. — P. 5 Jollity.— P. 6 A stroke like a t follows in the MS. -F. 7 baith.— P. 8 Perhaps hend King. — P. 9 thought [he].— P. 594 JOIIN DE REEUE. thus cndeth the talc of Reeue soe wight. 1 .-' God save all god that is soe fiull of might, who . ii- to heauen their soules bring StartS? 908 t]mt haue teard tMs utle stor y> that liued 2 sometimes in the south-west country e in long 3 Edwards dayes our King. fins. 1 See Page 210 [of MS.] top of y° 2 Forte kappncd.—P. Page (fell some time, &c.).— P. 3 long- [shanks] or without long.— P. 595 SlppenDtj:* i. ggfnrmtrt Ballad (See p. 159, Nos. 3 and 4.) 1. Agincourt, or the English Bowman's Glory. A spirited black-letter ballad, of early date, the only existing copy of which was, however, " printed for Henry Harper in Smithfield," not long anterior to the Civil Wars; it bears for title "Agincourt, or the English Bow- man's Glory," purporting to have been sung "to a pleasant new tune." Collier's Shakespeare, ed. 1858, vol. iii. p. 538. Agincourt, Agincourt ! Know ye not Agincourt ? Where English slue and hurt All their French foenien ? With our pikes and bills brown, How the French were beat downe, Shot by our bowmen. Agincourt, Agincourt ! Know ye not Agincourt, Never to be forgot Or known to no men ? Where English cloth-yard arrows Kill'd the French like tame sparrows, Slaine by our bowmen. Agincourt, Agincourt! Know ye not Agincourt, Where we won field and fort ? French fled like wo-men By land, and eke by water ; Never was seene such slaughter, Made by our bowmen. 596 AGINCOURT BALLADS. Agincourt; Agincourt! Know ye not Agincourt ? English of every sort, High men and low men, Fought that day wondrous well, as All our old stories tell us, Thanks to our howinen. Agincourt, Agincourt ! Know ye not Agincourt ? Either tale, or report, Quickly will show men What can be done by courage, Men without food or forage, Still lusty bowmen. Agincourt, Agincourt! Know ye not Agincourt ? Where such a fight was fought, As, when they grow men, Our boys shall imitate ; Nor need we long to waite ; They'll be good bowmen. Agincourt, Agincourt ! Know ye not Agincourt ? Where our fifth Harry taught Frenchmen to know men : And when the day was done, Thousands there fell to one Good English bowman. Agincourt, Agincourt ! Huzza for Agincourt ! When that day is forgot There will be no men. It was a day of glory, And till our heads are hoary Praise we our bowmen. Agincourt, Agincourt ! Know ye not Agincourt ? When our best hopes were nought, AGINCOURT BALLADS. 597 Tenfold our foemen. Harry led his men to battle, Slue the French like sheep and cattle : Huzza ! our bowmen. Agincourt, Agincourt ! Know ye not Agincourt ? 0, it was noble sport ! Then did we owe men ; Men, who a victory won us 'Gainst any odds among us : Such were our bowmen. Agincourt, Agincourt ! Know ye not Agincourt ? Dear was the victory bought By fifty yeomen. Ask any English wench, They were worth all the French : Rare English bowmen ! * 2. King Henry V. bis Conquest of France In Revenge for the Affront offered by the French King ; In sending him (instead of the Tribute) a Ton of Tennis Balls. (From the copy in Chetham's Library, Manchester, obligingly transcribed by Mr. Jones, the Librarian. Dr. Rirnbaiilt has a copy of this ballad "Printed and sold in Aldermary Church Yard." He says that tra- ditional versions of it also appeared in the Rev. J. C. Tyler's Henry of Monmouth, 8vo. vol. ii. p. 197, and in Mr. Dixon's Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England, printed by the Percy Society in 1846. Notes and Queries, No. 23, Jan. 25, 1851, vol. iii. p. 51, col. 1.) As our King lay musing on his bed, He bethought himself upon a time, Of a tribute that was due from France, Had not been paid for so long a time. Fal, lal, &c. i In the original it is " Rare English women," but probably a mistake for " bowmen," the printer having been misled by the word " wench " above. All the other stanzas end with " bowmen." — J. P. Collier. 598 AOINCOURT BALLADS. * He called for his lovely page, His lovely page then called he ; Saying, you must go to the King of France, To the King of France, sir, ride speedily. O then went away this lovely page, This lovely page then away went he ; Low he came to the King of France, And when fell down on his hended knee. My master greets you, worthy sir, Ten ton of gold that is due to he, That you will send him his tribute home, Or in French land you soon will him see. Fal, lal, &c. Your master's young and of tender years, Not fit to come into my degree : And I will send him three Tennis-Balls, That with them he may learn to play. then returned this lovely page, This lovely page then returned he, And when he came to our gracious King, Low he fell down on his bended knee. What news? what news? my trusty page, What is the news you have brought to me ? 1 have brought such news from the King of France, That he and you will ne'er agree. He says, you're young and of tender years, Not fit to come into his degree ; And he will send you three Tennis' Balls, That with them you may learn to play. Recruit me Cheshire and Lancashire And Derby Hills that are so free : No marry 'd man or widow's son, For no widow's curse shall go with me. They recruited Cheshire and Lancashire, And Derby Hills that are so free : No marry'd man, nor no widow's son, Yet there was a jovial bold company. O then we march'd into the French land, With drums and trumpets so merrily ; And then bespoke the King of France, Lo yonder comes proud King Henry. AGINCOURT BALLADS. 599 The first shot that the Frenchmen gave, They kill'd our Englishmen so free. We kill'd ten thousand of the French, And the rest of them they run away. And then we marched to Paris gates, With drums and trumpets so merrily ; O then bespoke the King of France, The Lord have mercy on my men and me, O I will send him his tribute home, Ten ton of gold that is due to he, And the finest flower that is in all France To the Rose of England I will give free. 600 II. Itt'ng (Estmere, (See p. 200, note 1.) We give here reprints of this ballad as it appeared in the 1st and 4th editions of the Reliques, putting in italics all the words changed in spelling or position, or for other words, in the two editions, so as to make Percy's acknowledged changes apparent. His unacknowledged ones we must leave to the critical power of our readers to ascertain. First Edition, 1765. Hearken to mo, gentlemen, Come and you shall heare ; He tell you of two of the boldest breth- ren, That ever born y-were. The tone of them was Adler yonge, 5 The tother was kyng Estmere; The were as bolde men in their deedcs, As any were farr and neare. As they were drinking ale and wine Within kyng Estmeres halle : 10 Whan will ye marry a wyfe, brother, A wyfe to gladd us all? Then bespake him kyng Estmere, And answered him hastilee : I knowe not that ladye in any landc, 15 That is able 4 to marry with mee. Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother, Men call her bright and sheene ; If I were kyng here in your stead, That ladye sholde be queene. 20 Fourth Edition, 1794. Hearken to me, gentlemen, Come and you shall heare ; Eve tell you of two of the boldest breth- ren ' That ever borne y-were. The tone of them was Adler yovnge, The tother was kyng Estmere ; The were as bolde men in their deeds, As any were farr and neare. As they were drinking ale and wine Within kyng Estmeres halle 2 : When will ye marry a wyfe, brother, A wyfe to glad us all ? Then bespake him kyng Estmere, And answered him hastilee 3 : I know not that ladye in any land That's able 4 to marryc 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. Ver. 3. brether. fol. MS. Ver. 10. bis brother's hall. fol. MS. Ver. 14. hartilye. fol. MS. He means fit, suitable. KING ESTMERE. 601 First Edition, 1765. Sayes, Eeade me, reade me, deare bro- ther, Throughout merrye England, Where we might find a messenger Betweene us two to sende. Fourth Edition, 1794. Sales, Eeade me, reade me, deare bro- ther, Throughout merry England, "Where we might find a messenger Betwixt us towe to sende. Sayes, You shal ryde yourselfe, brother, 25 lie beare you cornpanee ; Many throughe fals messengers are de- ceivcle, And I feare lest soe shold wee. Sales, You shal ryde yourselfe, brother, He beare you company e ; Many throughe fals messengers are ' de- ceived, And I feare lest soe shold wee. Thus the renisht them to ryde Of twoe good renisht steedes, 30 And when they came to kyng Adlands halle, Of red golde shone their weedes. Thus the renisht them to ryde Of twoe good renisht steeds, And when the came to king Adlands halle, Of redd gold shone their weeds. the came to kyng Adlands And when the came to kyng Adlands hall Before the goodlye gate, 35 There they found good kyng Adland Rearing himselfe theratt. And whan halle Before the goodlye yate, Thcr they found good kyng Adland Bearing himselfe theratt. Nowe Christ thee save, good kyng Ad- land ; Nowe Christ thee save and see. Sayd, you be welcome, kyng Estmere, Bight hartilye unto mee. 40 Now Christ thee save, good kyng Ad- land; Now Christ you save and see. Sayd, You be welcome, king Estmere, Bight hartilye to mee. You have a daughter, sayd Adler yonge, Men call her bright and sheene, My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe, Of Englande to bee queene. 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. Yesterdayc was at my deare daughter 45 Syr Bremor the kyng of Spayne ; And then she nicked him of naye, I feare sheele doe youe the same. The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim, And Teeveth on Mahound ; 50 And pitye it were that fayre ladye Shold marrye a heathen hound. Yesterday was att my deere daughter Syr Bremor the kyng of Spayne ; 2 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 3 on Mahound ; And pitye it were that fayre ladye Shold marrye a heathen hound. But grant to me, sayes kyng Estmere, For my love I you praye, That I may see your daughter deare 55 Before I goe hence awaye. But grant to me, sayes kyng Estmere, For my love I you praye ; That I may see your daughter deere Before I goe hence awaye. 1 Ver. 27. Many a man . is. fol. MS. - Ver. 46. The king his sonne of Spayn. fol. MS. 3 Misprinted 'leeve thou. VOL. II. R R 602 KING ESTMEItE. First Edition, 1765. Althoughe itt is Beven yeare and more Syth my daughter was in halle, Shee shall come downe once for your sake To glad my guestes all. go Downe then came that mayden fayre, With ladyes lacede in pall, Ami halfe a hondred of 6oWe knightes, To bring her from bowre to ball ; Awl eke as mauye gentle squieres, C5 To wa#e upon them all. The talents of golde, were on her head sette, Hunge lowc downe. to her knee ; Ami everye vynge on her smattt linger, Shone of the chrystall frei . 70 Sai/cs, Christ you save, my deare mad< Sayes, Christ you save and see. Sayes, You be welcome, kyng Estmere, Eight welcome unto mee. And iff you love me, as you saye, 75 So well and hartilee, All that ever you arc comen about Soone sped now itt may bee. Then bespake her father deare : My daughter, I save naye ; 80 Remember well the kyng of Spayne, What he sayd yesterdaye. I'oi 1; 1 ii Km 1 con, 1 7'. 1 1. 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 a Downe then came thai mayden faj "Willi Ladyes laced in pall, And halfe a hundred of bold knightes, To bring her [from] bowre to hall ; And as many gentle squiers, To tend upon them all. The talents of golde were on her head sett*-. Hanged low downe to her knee ; And everye ring on her small finger, Shone of the chrystall free. Saies, God you save, my tU • re madam ; Saics, God you save and see." Said, You be welcome, kyng Estmere, Eight welcome unto mee. And. if \"\\ love me, as you saye, Soe well and hartilee. All that ever you are comen about Soone sped now itt shed bee. Then bespake her father deare : My daughter, I saye nave ; Remember well the kyng of Spayne, What he sayd yesterdaye. downe my halles and He wold pull downe my halles and castles, And reave me of my lyfe : 8,5 I cannot blame him if he doe, If I reave him of his wyfe. He wold pull castles, And reave me of my lyfe : And ever Ifeare thai paynim kyng Iff I reave him of his wyfe. Your castles and your towres, father, Are stronglye built aboute ; And therefore of that foule paynim Wee neede not stande in doubt e. 90 Plyght me your troth, nowe, kyng Est- mere, 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 plyght his troth 95 By heaven and his righte hand, That he wold marrye her to his wyfe, And make her queene of his land. Your castles and your towres, father, Are stronglye built aboute ; And therefore of the king of Spaine ' Wee neede not stande in doubt. Plight me your troth, nowe, kyng Est- mere, 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 By heaven and his righte hand, hat he wolde marrye her to his wyfe, And make her queene of his land. 1 Ver. 89. of the King his sonne of Spaine. fol. MS. KING ESTMERE. 603 First Edition, 1765. 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 a one. Tone But in did come the kyng of Spayne, With manye a grimme barone, one day to marrye kyng Adlands daugh ter Tother daye to carrye her home. Then shee sent after kyng Estmere In all the spede might bee, That he must either retume and fighte, Or goe home and lose his ladye. 110 One whyle then the page he went, 115 Another whyle he ranne; Till he had oretaken kyng Estmere I-wis, he never blanne. Tydinges, tyclinges, kyng Estmere ! What tydinges nowe, my boye ? 120 tydinges I can tell to you, That will you sore annoye. You had not ridden scant a myle, A myle 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, grimme barone, Tone daye to marrye king Adlands daughter, Tother daye to carrye her home. 130 That ladye fayre she greetes you well, And ever-more well by mee : You must either turne againe and fighte, Or goe home and lose your ladye. Saycs,~Re&d. n, IT'.M. NOW hearken to ne . SayeS AdleT \< And your readi i I me, I quicklye will devise a \\ To sette thy ladye fi )l\ mother was a westerne woman, And Learnt d in gramarye, 1 And when 1 Learned al the schole, Something shee t a nj hi iti mee. There growes an hearbe within this field, And iff it were but knowne, Hi- color, which is whyte and redd, It will make blacke and browne: His color, which is browne and blacke, Itt will make redd and whyte; That Bworde is not in all Englande, Upon his coate will byte. And you shal be a harpi r, brother, Out of the north cowntrye; And He be your boy, soe faine of fight e, And beare your harpe by your knee. And you shal be the best harper, That ever tooke harpe in hand; And I wil be the best singer, That ever sung in this lande. Itt shal be written in our forheads All and in g/rammaryi, That we towe are the boldest men, That are in all Christentye. And thus they renisht them to ryde, On tow good renish steedes ; And whm they came to king Adlands hall, Of redd gold shone their weedes. And whan the came to kyng Adlands hall, Untill the fayre hall yate, There they found a proud porter Rearing himselfe tht reatt. Sayes, Christ thee save, thou proud porter ; Sayes, Christ thee save and see. Nowe you be welcome, sayd the porter, Of what land soever ye bee. Sic. * Sic MS. See at the end of this ballad, Note *** [not reprinted here.— F.l KING ESTMERE. 605 Fihst Edition, 1765. We been harpers, sayd Adler yonge, Come out of the northe countree ; iso We 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, lid saye king Estmere and his brother 185 Were comen untill this towne. Then they pulled out a ryng of gold, Laj-d 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 light off his steede 195 Up att the fayre hall board ; The frothe, that came from his brydle bitte, Light on kyng Bremors beard. Sages, Stable thou steede, thou proud harper, Goe stable him in the stalle ; 200 Itt doth not beseeme a proud harper To stable him in a kyngs halle. My ladd he in so lither, he sayd, He will do nought that's meete ; And aye that I cold but find the man, 205 "Were able him to beate. Fourth Edition, 1794. Wee beene harpers, sayd Adler younge, Come out of the northe countrye ; 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 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. 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 Soe fayre att the hall bord ; The froth, that came from his brydle bitte, Light in kyng Bremors beard. Sales, Stable thy steed, thou proud harper, Saies, Stable him in the stalle ; It doth not beseeme a proud harper To stable 'him' in a kyngs halle. 1 My ladde he is so lither, he said, He will doe nought that's meete ; And is there any man in this hall Were able him to beate. Thou speakst proud wordes, sayd the Pay- nim kyng, Thou harper here to mee ; There is a man within this halle, That will beate thy lad and thee. 210 lett that man come downe, he sayd, A sight of him wolde I see ; And whan 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 golde, that was under heaven, He durst not neigh him neare. 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. 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, And looked him in the eare ; For all the gold, that was under heaven, He durst not neigh him neare. 1 Ver. '.'02. To stable his steede. fol. MS. 606 KING ESTMERB. FlBST Edition-, 1765. And how powe, kempe, sayd the kyng of Spayne, And how what aileth thee? 220 He sayes, III is written in his forhead All and in gramarye, That for all the gold that is under heaven, I dare not neigh him nye. KyngEstmere then pulled forth hisharpe, 228 And playd tin ,-on so sweeh : Upstarte the ladye from the kynge, As hee sate at the meate. Nowe stay thyharpe, thou proud harper, Now stay thy harpe, I say ; •_• to For an thou ptayest as thou begmnest, Thou'lt till my bride awaye. He struclce upon his harpe agayne, And playd bothfayre and free; Tho ladye was so pleasde th ratt, 23fi Ske lauyht loud laughters three. Nowe sell me thy harpe, sayd the kyng of Spayne, Thy harpe and stryngs echo one, And as many gold nobles thou shalt have, As there be stryngs thereon. 240 And what wold ye doe with my harpe, he sayd, ///"I did sell it ye? To playe my wiffe and me a fitt, When abed together we bee. Now sell me, syr kyng, thy bryde soe gay, 245 As shee sitts hired in pall. And as many gold nobles I will give, As there be rings in the hall. And what wold ye doe with my bryde so gay, Iff I did sell her yee ? 250 More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye To lye by mee than thee. Hee played agayne both loud and shrille, And Adler he did syng, " ladye, this is thy owne true love ; 255 " Noe harper b_ut a kyng. I ■'•>! 1. 1 ii Edi i [OK, 1794. And how nowe, kempe, said the kyng of Spaine, Anil how w hat aileth th< '■ Be saiet, It ie voritt in his forhead All and in gramarye, That for all the gold that is andi r heavi n. I dare not neigh him nye. Then kyng Estmere puUd forth his harpe, And plaid a pretty thinge: Th' lady i upstart from the horde. And "• Id have gone from the Icing. Stay thy harpe, thou proud harper, For Gods lovi I pray For and thou playes as thou beginns, Thou'lt till ' my bryi He stroah upon his harpe againe, And playd a pretty thinge; The ladye lough a loud laughter, As shee sate by the king. Suits, sell me thy harpe, thou proud liar per, And thy stringks all, For as many gold nobles, ' thou shalt have ' As hcerc bee ringes in the hall. "What wold ye doe with my harpe, ' he sayd,' If I did sell ittyee? "To playe my wiffe and me a fitt, 2 When abed together wee bee." Now sell me, quoth hee, thy bryde soe gay, As -hee sitts by th i/ 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? More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye To lye by mee then thee. Hee played agayne both loud and shrille, 3 And Adler he did syng, " ladye, this is thy owne true love ; " Noe harper, but a kyng. 1 i.e. Entice. Vid. Gloss. 2 i.e. a tune, or strain of music. See Gloss. 3 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. KING ESTMERE. 607 First Edition, 1765. " ladye, this is thy owne true love, " As playnlye thou mayest see ; "And lie rid thee of that foule paynim, " Who partes thy love and thee." 260 The ladye louked, the ladye blushte, And blushte and lookt agayne, While Adler he hath drawne his brande, And hath sir Bremor 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 ; 270 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. Fourth Edition, 1794. " ladye, this is thy owne true love, " As playnlye thou mayest see ; "And lie rid thee of that foule paynim, "Who partes thy love and thee." The ladye looked, the ladye blushte, And blushte and lookt agayne, 1 While Adler he hath drawne his brande, And hath the Sowclan slayne. Up then rose the kemperye men, 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; And Estmere he, and Adler yonge Right stiffe in stour can stand. And aye their swordes soe sore can fyte, Throughe help of Gramarye, That soone they have slayne the kempery men, Or forst them forth to flee. Kyng Estmere tooke that fayre ladye, And marryed her to his wyfe, And brought her home to merrye England With her to leade his lyfe. 280 Kyng Estmere tooke that fayre ladye, And marryed her to his wiffe, And brought her home to merry England With her to leade his life. These lines must be Percy's own.— F. i;<>* III. Beginning of (BU|) mttl ^tlltS, p. 201. Percy says in his Reliques, iii. 105, 1st ed., that his text of "The Legend of Sir Griiy " is "Printed from an ancient MS. copy in the Editor's old folio volume, collated with two printed ones, one of which is in black letter in the Pepys collection." As he tore the beginning of it out of his Folio, I applied to the Librarian of Magdalene to correct by the Pep3^s copy a transcript of the first twenty-two stanzas of Percy's text ; but as I could not give a reference to the volume and page where the ballad is, and the Librarian's catalogue is not yet complete, he has not sent me the collation. I am therefore obliged to print the beginning of the "inferior copy in Hitson's Ancient Song* and Ballads, ii. 193 " (Child). SIR GUY OF WARWICK. W, AS ever knight, for ladys sake, So toss'd in love, as I, Sir Guy, For Philiis fair, thai lady bright As ever man beheld with eye? She gave me leave myself to try The valiant knight with shield and spear, Ere that her love she would grant me ; Which made me venture far and near. The proud Sir Guy, a baron bold, In deeds of arms the doughty knight, That every day in England was, With sword and spear in field to fight ; An English man I was by birth, In faith of Christ a Christian true ; The wicked laws of infidels I sought by power to subdue. Two hundred twenty years, and odd After our saviour Christ his birth, When king Athelstan wore the crown, I lived here upon the earth. Sometime I was of Warwick earl, And, as 1 said, on very truth, A ladys love did me constrain To seek strange ventures in my youth : To try my fame by feats of arms, In strange and sundry heathen lands; Where I atchieved, for her sake, Right dangerous conquests with my hands. For first I sail'd to Normandy, And there I stoutly won in fight, The empwours daughter of Almain, From many a valiant worthy knight. Then passed I the seas of Greece, To help the emperour to his right, Against the mighty soldans host Of puissant Persians for to fight : Where I did slay of Saracens And heathen pagans, many a man, And slew the soldans cousin clear, Who had to name, doughty Colbron. BEGINNING OF GUY AND PHILLIS. 609 Ezkeldered, that famous knight, To death likewise I did pursue, And Almain, king of Tyre, also, Most terrible too in fight to view : I went into the soldans host, Being thither on ambassage sent, And brought away his head with me, I having slain him in his tent. There was a dragon in the land, Which I also myself did slay, As he a lion did pursue, Most fiercely met me by the way. From thence I pass'd the seas of Greece, And came to Pavy land aright, Where I the duke of Pavy kill'd, His heinous treason to requite. And after came into this land, Towards fair Phillis, lady bright ; For love of whom I travel'd far, To try my manhood and my might. But when I had espoused her, I'stay'd with her but forty days, But there I left this lady fair, And then I went beyond the seas. All clad in gray, in pilgrim sort, My voyage from her I did take, Unto that blessed holy land, For Jesus Christ my saviours sake : Where I earl Jonas did redeem, And all his sons, which were fifteen, Who with the cruel Saracen, In prison for long time had been. I slew the giant Amarant, In battle fiercely hand to hand: And doughty Barknard killed I, The mighty diike of that same land. Then I to England came again, And here with Colbron fell I fought, An ugly giant, which the Danes Had for their champion hither brought. I overcame him in the field, And slew him dead right valiantly ; Where I the land did then redeem From Danish tribute utterly ; And afterwards I offered up The use of weapons solemnly, At Winchester, whereas I fought, In sight of many far and nigh. In Windsor-forest, &c. Ritson. A Select Collection of English Songs, vol. ii. p. 296-299. Part IV., Ancient Ballads. VOL. II. s s INDEX. PAGE A Jigge 334 Agincourte Battell . . 158, 595 Amongst the Mirtles . . .35 Ay me, Ay me ! Pore Sisley and undone . . . . .43 Bell my Wyffe (photolithograph in vol. i.) 320 Bessie off Bednall . . .279 Bishoppe & Browne . . . 265 Boy and Mantle . . . .301 Buckingham betrayd by Banister 253 Cales Voyage Chevy Chase Childe Maurice Childe Waters Cloris, farewell, I needs Come, come, come, shall or mum ? Conscience . Durham Feilde Earle Bodwell Eglamore Faine wolde I change Life Guy & Colebrande Guy & Phillis Guye & Amarant . Guye of Gisborne Herefford & Norfolke Hollowe, me Fancye How fayre shee be must go . wee masque my maiden 136 1 500 269 21 52 174 190 260 338 46 . 509 608, 201 . 136 . 227 . 238 . 30 . 50 Hugh Spencer I liue where I loue John a Side John de Eeeue r-AGE . 290 . 325 . 203 . 559 King Estmere, Percy's versions. (See note, p. 200) . . .600 Kinge Adler . . . .296 Kinge & Miller . . . .147 Ladyes Fall 246 Libius Disconius .... 404 Newarke Northumberland Dowglas betrayd by Risinge in the Northe . Sir Triamore Sittinge late .... The iEgiptian Queene . The Emperour & the Childe . The Grene Knight The Kinge enjoyes his Eights againe The Tribe of Banburye The Worlde is changed, & wee have Choyces 33 217 210 78 400 26 390 56 24 39 37 When first I sawe her Face . . 48 When Love with unconfined Wings 17 White Eose & Bed . . .312 Younge Andrewe 327 END OF THE SECOND VOLUME. /f SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., PRINTER?, NEW-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET. SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A A 000 277 571 6