SPECIMENS 
 
 or THE 
 
 frO WHICH IS PREFIXED 
 
 HISTORICAL SKETCH 
 
 OF THE 
 
 RISE AND PROGRESS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 ENGLISH POETRY AND LANGUAGE; 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 BY GEORGE ELLIS, ESQ. 
 
 THE FOURTH EDITION CORRECTED. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, OV.ME, ANT) 
 IJROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
 
 1811.
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 Printed by James Ballantyne & Co.
 
 PR 
 
 V, 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 1 HE first edition of this Miscellany, which ap- 
 peared in 1790, was intended as an attempt " to 
 " comprise, within the compass of one volume, 
 " all the most beautiful small poems that had 
 " been published in this country during the 
 " sixteenth and seventeenth centuries ;" but it 
 was, at the same time, admitted, that " the 
 " completion of the publisher's plan had been 
 " prevented by the difficulty of procuring a 
 " sufficient stock of materials." 
 
 This difficulty has been since removed by 
 the kind assistance of my friends ; and the work, 
 in its present state, contains a selection, made 
 with some care and attention, from a consider- 
 able number of the best poetical libraries in this 
 country. That it is still deficient, and that by 
 greater industry it might have been improved,
 
 C iv ] 
 
 is very certain : * but the reader, who shall 
 fairly examine the stock of materials here col- 
 lected, will not be much surprised if the curio- 
 sity of the compiler was at length satiated, and 
 if the labour of transcription became too irk- 
 some to be farther continued. 
 
 It has been objected to the former collection 
 that it consisted, almost exclusively, of love- 
 songs and sonnets. The objection was certainly 
 just, but the blame cannot fairly be imputed to 
 an editor, who must be satisfied to take such 
 instances of literary excellence as he can find ; 
 and who, though he may lament, with his read- 
 ers, that beautiful poetry is more frequently 
 calculated to inflame the imagination than to 
 chasten the morals, can only lament, without 
 being able to remedy, such a perversion of ta- 
 lent. 
 
 The collection, in its present state, will be 
 
 * To what degree it is defective, the reader will be bet- 
 ter able to judge, when Mr Ritson shall have printed his 
 " Bibliographia Poetica, a Catalogue of English Poets of 
 " the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, and six- 
 " teenth centuries, with a short account of their Works." 
 It is said to be completed, and intended for immediate 
 publication. [This accurate repertory has since appeared 
 in one volume 8vo, 1802. Nicol.]
 
 found to contain much more variety. The two - 
 parts into which it is divided are, indeed, di- 
 rected to one principal object ; which is, to ex- 
 hibit, by means of a regular series of Speci- 
 mens, the rise and progress of our language, 
 from the tenth to the latter end of the seven- 
 teenth century. In the former part, which 
 terminates with the reign of Henry VIII. the 
 extracts are generally chosen with a view to 
 picturesque description, or to the delineation 
 of national manners ; whereas the second divi- 
 sion of the work is meant to exhibit the best 
 models that could be found, in each reign, of 
 regular and finished composition. In the 
 former, which consists of very early fragments, 
 it was thought that a few critical remarks, as 
 well as biographical anecdotes, were absolutely 
 necessary; and that these could not be given 
 more concisely than in the form of an historical 
 sketch : but in the latter, a short outline of the 
 literary character of each reign, and a few no- 
 tices respecting the several writers, appeared 
 to be sufficient. To the whole is added a sort of 
 Essay on the formation and carry gradations of 
 our language, which, being little more than a 
 repetition of some observations contained in the
 
 first volume, is perhaps superfluous ; but may 
 be convenient for the purpose of reference. 
 
 The title of these volumes will shew, that 
 they are by no means intended to supersede 
 Mr Warton's very learned and entertaining, 
 though desultory work, from which they are, 
 in part, abridged ; but rather to serve as an 
 useful index to his History. Neither do they 
 interfere with the valuable modern Miscellanies 
 of Bishop Percy, Mr Pinkerton, Mr Ritson, 
 the late Mr Headley, and Mrs Cooper ; from 
 all of which they differ materially, except in 
 the general purpose of selecting what is most 
 valuable from the scarcest and least accessible 
 compositions of our early literature. 
 
 It is only necessary to add, that the Saxon 
 Ode, which in this work will be found to differ 
 materially from the text of Dr Hickes, and of 
 Gibson's Saxon Chronicle, was kindly furnish- 
 ed by the Rev. Mr Henshall, who collated the 
 printed copies with two excellent MSS. in the 
 Cotton Library ; and who had the farther com- 
 plaisance to supply the literal English version, 
 as well as the learned notes with which it is ac- 
 companied.
 
 [ vii ] 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 TO THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING the care with which the 
 former edition of this work was revised during 
 its progress through the press, it was found to 
 contain very numerous, though not very impor- 
 tant typographical errors. For the detection 
 and the removal of these ; for the collation of 
 nearly all the extracts contained in the work with 
 the earliest and best copies of the originals, 
 whether printed or manuscript ; for the inser- 
 tion of some new Specimens ; and for much 
 additional information in the notices prefixed 
 to the several authors ; the editor is indebted 
 to the kindness of his friend Mr Heber, and to 
 the frequent assistance of Mr Park. 
 
 The defects which still remain are solely 
 chargeable to the editor. Many of these, 
 however, will, it is hoped, be removed by the
 
 [ viii ] 
 
 publication of a second series of Specimens, 
 selected from our Early Metrical Romances, 
 which will complete the sketch of our poetical 
 antiquities, and is now nearly ready for the 
 press.
 
 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF POETS, 
 
 FROM WHOSE WORKS EXTRACTS HAVE BEEN GIVEN 
 IN THESE VOLUMES. 
 
 As in many instances it has not been possible to ascertain the 
 precise year of an author's birth or death, the reader is re- 
 quested to observe, that when the word about precedes the 
 date, it must be understood to be correct within two or three 
 years ; where a mark of interrogation is annexed, the date is 
 only offered as an approximation deduced from the author's 
 earliest compositions. 
 
 HISTORICAL SKETCH. 
 
 Born. Died. 
 
 1 Robert of Gloucester, - - - 1230? 
 
 2 Robert Maanyng, - - about 1270 
 
 3 Adam Davie, 1280? 
 
 4- Robert Langland? - - - 1300? 
 
 5 John Gower, - - - - - 1326? 1402 
 
 6 John Barbour, - - - about 1326 1396 
 
 7 Geoffrey Chaucer, - - - - 1328 1400 
 
 8 Andrew of Wyntown, - - - 1352? 
 
 9 John Lydgate, 1 375 ?abt. 1462 
 
 10 James I. (of Scotland). - - 1395 1437 
 
 11 Henry VI 1421 1471
 
 12 Robert Henrysoun, - - - 1425 ? 1 
 13 Juliana Berners, - - - - 1440 ? 
 14 Henry the Minstrel, - about 1446 
 15 Patrick Johnstoun, - - - 
 
 495 ? 
 
 1520 
 1520 
 1529 
 1522 
 15 
 
 17 William Dunbar, - - - - 
 18 John Skelton, - - - about 
 19 Gawin Douglas, - - - - 
 20 Stephen Hawes, - - - - 
 21 Walter Kennedy - - - - 
 22 Quintyn Schaw, - - - - 
 
 "", \Villi-mi INiV 
 
 1455? 
 1463 
 1475 
 
 1480? 
 
 14 abt. 
 1490 ? 
 1490 
 1493 
 1500 ? abt. 
 
 
 
 1520 
 15 
 1553 
 1547 
 1565 
 
 24 Sir David Lindsay, - about 
 OK Wpnrv VIII 
 
 26 John Heywood, - ... 
 SPECIMENS. 
 
 27 George Boleyn, visct. Rochford, 1500 ? 1536 
 
 28 Sir Thomas Wyatt, - - - 1503 1541 
 
 29 Thomas Vaux, Lord Vaux, - 1507? abt. 1557 
 
 30 Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, 1 520 ? 1 546-7 
 
 31 John Hall, - 1520 ? 
 
 32 Nicholas Grimoald, 
 
 33 Richard Edwards, - 
 
 34 Thomas Tusser, 
 
 35 Thomas Norton, - 
 
 36 Alexander Scot, - 
 
 - - 1520 abt. 1563 
 about 1523 1566 
 about 1523 1580 
 . . 1524? 
 
 - - 1525?
 
 [ xi 3 
 
 Born. Died. 
 
 37 Clapperton, - - - - 1525? 
 
 38 Elizabeth, 1533 1603 
 
 39 Webster(George?) Puttenham, abt. 1 534- 
 
 4-0 John Harington, - - - - 1534? 1582 
 
 4-1 Edward Vere, Earl of Oxford, 1534? 1604 
 
 42 Barnaby Googe, 1535 ? 
 
 43 George Gascoigne, - - - - 1540? 1578? 
 
 44 George Turbervile, - - - 1540 ? 
 
 45 Sir Edward Dyer, - - - - 1540? 161- 
 
 46 Henry Willoby, 1540? abt. 1595 
 
 47 Dr John Still, - - - about 1542 1607 
 
 48 Robert Green, 1550? 1592 
 
 49 Humfrey Gifford, - - - - 1550? 
 
 50 Sir Walter Raleigh, .... 1552 1618 
 
 51 Timothy Kendall, .... 1552? 
 
 52 Edmund Spenser, - - about 1553 1598-9 
 
 53 John Lylie, .... about 1553 abt. 1600 
 
 54 Sir Philip Sidney, - - - - 1554 1586 
 
 55 Fulke Greville, Lord Brook, 1554 16*28 
 
 56 Nicholas Breton, - - - 1555 ? 1624 ? 
 
 57 George Chapman, .... 1557 1634, 
 
 58 William Warner, .... 1558? 1608-9 
 
 59 Robert Southwell, .... 1550 1595 
 
 60 Thomas Watson, - - - - 1560 abt. 1591 
 
 61 Thomas Lodge, - - about 1560 1625 
 
 62 Sir John Harington, ... 1551 IQI% 
 
 63 Samuel Daniel, 1562 1619
 
 [ xii ] 
 
 Born. Died. 
 
 64 Christopher Marlowe, - - - 1562? 1592 
 
 65 Joshua Sylvester, - - - - 1563 1618 
 
 66 Michael Drayton, - - - - 1563 1631 
 
 67 William Shakspeare, - - - 1564 1616 
 
 68 Simon Wastel, - - - about 1566 
 
 69 Henry Constable, - - about 1566 
 
 70 Robert Devereux, Earl of Es^ex, 1567 1601 
 7UamesI. 1567 1625 
 
 72 Sir Henry Wotton, - - - - 1568 1639 
 
 73 Barnaby Barnes, - - - - 1569 16 
 
 74 William Fowler, - - - - 1569 ? 
 
 75 Sir John Davis, - - - about 1570 1626 
 
 76 William Smith, ..... 1571 ? 
 
 77 Dr John Donne, .... 1573 1631 
 
 78 Dr Joseph Hall, 1574 1656 
 
 79 Ben Jonson, 1574 1637 
 
 80 Richard Barnfeild, - - about 1574 
 
 81 Henry Peacham, - - - - 15 16 
 
 82 Thomas Campion, - - - - 1575 ? 
 
 83 John Fletcher, 1576 1625 
 
 84 Robert Burton, 1576 1639 
 
 85 George Sandys, - - v - - - 1577 1643 
 
 86 Thomas Carew, * - - - - 1577? 1634 
 
 87 Thomas Hey wood, - - - - 1580? 16 
 
 * Notwithstanding what is said in III. 156, it has been 
 
 thought best, on deliberate consideration, to place Carew's 
 birth as above. His death certainly happened in 1631.
 
 Born. 
 
 88 Wm Alexander, Earl of Sterline, 1580 
 
 89 Wm Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, 1580 ? 
 
 90 Dabridgcourt Belchier, about 1581 
 
 91 Lord Herbert of Cherbury, - 1582 
 
 92 Francis Davison, - 
 
 93 Sir John Beaumont, 
 94. Phineas Fletcher, - 
 
 95 Francis Beaumont, - 
 
 96 William Drummond, 
 
 97 Sir Francis Kinaston 
 
 98 David Murray, 
 
 99 Giles Fletcher, 
 
 100 George Wither, 
 
 101 Richard Brathwait, 
 
 102 William Browne, 
 
 103 Thomas Freeman, 
 lOt Dr Henry King, 
 
 105 Robert Herrick, 
 
 106 Francis Quarles, 
 
 107 George Herbert, 
 
 108 Isaac Walton, - 
 
 109 James Shirley, - 
 
 110 Patrick Hannay, 
 
 1 1 1 Thomas May, 
 
 112 John Hagthorpe, 
 
 113 Sir John Mennis, 
 
 1 It Robert Gomersall, 
 
 Died. 
 164-0 
 1630 
 1621 
 164-8 
 16 
 1628 
 
 - - 1582? 
 
 - - 1582 
 
 about 1584 abt. 1650 
 
 - - 1585 1615 
 
 - - 1585 1649 
 about 1585 abt. 1642 
 
 
 1 ^fiS 
 
 ; iu 
 ? Ifi0<l 
 
 . 
 
 - - 1588 
 
 I Uli J 
 
 1667 
 
 -ait, 
 
 - - 1588 
 
 1673 
 
 a ^ 
 
 about 1590 
 
 abt. 1645 
 
 in, -. - 
 
 about 1591 
 
 16 
 
 '> 
 
 - - 1591 
 
 1669 
 
 
 
 - - 1591 
 
 16 
 
 
 - - 1592 
 
 1644 
 
 t, - - 
 
 - - 1593 
 
 1632-3 
 
 . . . 
 
 - - 1593 
 
 1683 
 
 . . . 
 
 about 1594 
 
 1666 
 
 
 
 - - 1594 
 
 ? 16 
 
 . . . 
 
 - - 1595 
 
 1650 
 
 - 
 
 1597 
 
 ? 16 
 
 s, - - 
 
 - - 1598 
 
 1670 
 
 ill, - 
 
 - - 1600 
 
 .. ,
 
 Born. Died. 
 
 115 Dr William Strode, - about 1601 1644 
 
 116 Sir Kenelra Digby, - - - 1603 1665 
 
 117 Dr Jasper Mayne, - - - - 1604- 1672 
 
 118 Dr James Smith, - - - 1604 1667 
 
 119 Sir William D'Avenant, - - 1605 1668 
 
 120 Edmond Waller, .... 1605 1687 
 
 121 William Habington, - - - 1605 1654 
 
 122 Thomas Randolph, ... 1605 1634 
 
 123 Sir Richard Fanshaw, - - - 1607 1666 
 
 124 Sir Aston Cokain, - - - - 1608 1683 
 
 125 John Milton, 1608 'l674 
 
 126 Sir John Suckling, - - 1608-9 1641 
 
 127 Sidney Godolphin - - - - 1610 1642-3 
 
 128 William Cartwright, - - - 1611 1643 
 
 129 Henry Delaune, - - - - 1611? 
 
 130 Thomas Nabbes, - ... 1612? 
 
 131 George Digby, Earl of Bristol, 1612 1676 
 
 132 Henry Glapthorne, - - - 1614? 
 
 133 Richard Crashaw, - - about 1615 abt. 1650 
 
 134 Sir John Denham, * - - - 1615 1668 
 
 135 John Tatham, 1615? 
 
 136 Thomas Beedome, - - - - 1616? 
 
 137 Sir Edward Sherburne, - - 1618 17 
 
 138 Richard Lovelace, - - - - 1618 1658 
 
 * In both editions of the Biographia Britannica, Gibber's 
 
 Lives of the Poets, and Mr Ritson's Anthology, Sir John 
 Denham's death is erroneously placed twenty years later.
 
 I XV ] 
 
 Born. Died. 
 
 139 Abraham Cowley, ... - 1618 1667 
 
 140 Andrew Marvell, - - - - 1620 1678 
 14-1 Alexander Brome, - - - 1620 1666 
 
 142 Thomas Stanley, - - about 1620 1678 
 
 143 Henry Vaughan ... - 1621 1695 
 
 144 Sir Robert Howard - about 1622 1698 
 
 145 Samuel Sheppard, - - - 1622? 
 
 146 Dr Martin Lluellyn, - - - 1623? 
 
 147 Dr John Collop, - - - - 1623? 
 
 148 Robert Heath, 1625? 
 
 149 Edmund Prestwick, - - - 1626? 
 
 150 John Hall, 1627 1656 
 
 151 Richard Fleckno, - - - - 1628? 1678 
 
 152 Matthew Stevenson, - - - 1629? 
 
 153 Robert Baron, 1630 
 
 154 Charles Cotton, .... 1630 1687 
 
 155 John Dryden, 1631 1701 
 
 156 Thomas Flatman, - - about 1635 1688 
 
 157 Sir Charles Sedley, - about 1639 1701 
 
 158 Aphra Behn, - - - about 1644 1689 
 
 159 Robert Veel, 1648 
 
 160 John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, 1648 1680 
 
 161 Sir Francis Fane, .... 1650?
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF POETS, 
 
 FROM WHOSE WORKS EXTRACTS HAVE BEEN GIVEN 
 IN THESE VOLUMES : WITH THEIR TITLES AND" 
 ACADEMICAL DEGREES. 
 
 Vol. P. 
 
 Alexander, William, Earl of Sterline (Sc.), III. 3* 
 Barbour, John, Archdeacon of Aberdeen (Sc.), I. 228 
 Barnes, Barnaby, - - II. 373 
 
 Barnfeild, Richard (A. B.Oxf.), - - 11.356 
 Baron, Robert, ... III. 357 
 Beaumont, Francis, - - - - III. 62 
 Beaumont, Sir John, Bart. ... m. 59 
 Beedome, Thomas, - - III. 268 
 
 Behn, Aphra, - - III. 359 
 
 Belchier, Dabridgcourt (A. B. Oxf.), - III. 47 
 Berners, Juliana, (Prioress of the Nunnery of 
 
 Sopewell,) I. 363 
 
 Boleyn, George, Viscount Rochford, - II. 93 
 Brathwait, Richard, - III. 103 
 
 Breton, Nicholas, - II. 270 
 
 Bristol, Earl of. Vide Digby. 
 Brome, Alexander, - - III. 298 
 
 Brook, Lord. Vide Greville. 
 
 VOL. i. b
 
 [ xviii ] 
 
 Vol. P. 
 
 Browne, William (A. M. Oxf.), - - III. 108 
 Burton, Rev. Robert (A. M. Oxf.), - III. 7 
 Campion, Thomas, ... HI. 22 
 
 Carew, Thomas, - - - III. 156 
 
 Cartwright, Rev. William (A. M. Oxf.), III. 231 
 Chapman, George, - II. 294 
 
 Chaucer, Geoffrey, - I. 201 
 
 Clapperton, (Sc.) - II. 127 
 
 Cokain, Sir Aston, (A.M. Oxf.), - - III. 218 
 Collop, John (M. D.), - - - III. 376 
 
 Constable, Henry (A. B. Camb.), - - 11.304 
 Cotton, Charles, - . - III. 361 
 
 Cowley, Abraham(A. M. Camb.M. D. Oxf.), III. 279 
 Crashaw, Richard, Canon of Loretto, (A. M. 
 
 Camb.), - - - III. 224 
 
 Daniel, Samuel, - II. 316 
 
 D'Avenant, Sir William, Knt. - III. 183 
 
 Davie, Adam, - I. 139 
 
 Davis, Sir John, Knt. M. P. (A. B. Oxf.), II. 369 
 Davison, Francis, .... III. 14, 
 Delaune, Henry, - III. 270 
 
 Denham, Sir John, K. B. - - III. 255 
 
 Devereux, Robert, Earl of Essex, (A. M. 
 
 Camb. and Oxf.), - - II. 361 
 
 Digby, George, Earl of Bristol, - - III. 399 
 Digby, Sir Kenelm, Knt. '- - - III. 179 
 Donne, Rev. John, Dean of St Paul's (A. M. 
 
 Oxf. D. D. Camb.), - - - II. 383 
 
 Douglas, Rev. Gawin,Bishop of Dunkeld (Sc)> I. 390 
 Drayton, Michael, ... II, 337
 
 [ xix ] 
 
 Vol. P. 
 
 Drummond, William (Sc.) .... III. 70 
 Dry den, John (A.M. Camb.), - - HI. 372 
 
 Dunbar, William, I. 377 
 
 Dyer, Sir Edward, Knt. - - - - II. 186 
 
 Edwards, Richard, II. 137 
 
 Elizabeth, II. 14-3 
 
 Essex, Earl of. Vide Devereux. 
 Fane, Sir Francis, K. B. - - - - III. 4-06 
 Fanshaw, Sir Richard, Knt. Bart. - - III. 222 
 Flatman, Thomas, ..... III. 382 
 
 Fleckno, Richard, III. 333 
 
 Fletcher, Rev. Giles (B. D. Camb.), - III. 55 
 
 Fletcher, John, III. 62 
 
 Fletcher, Rev. Phineas (A. M. Camb.), III. 50 
 Fowler, William (Sc.), .... 11.379 
 Freeman, Thomas (A. B. Oxf.), - - III. 113 
 Gascoigne, George, - - - - - II. 174? 
 
 Gifford, Humfrey, II. 208 
 
 Glapthorne, Henry, III. 24-2 
 
 Gloucester, Robert of (Monk), - I. 91 
 
 Godolphin, Sidney, M. P. - - - - III. 229 
 Gomersall, Rev. Robert (A. M. Oxf.), - III. 176 
 Googe, Barnaby, -- - - - - II. 171 
 
 Gower, John, I. 169 
 
 Green, Robert (A. M. Camb.), - - II. 191 
 Greville, Fulke, Lord Brook, K. B. (A. M. 
 
 Oxf.), .... --. II. 26 
 
 (jrimoald, Rev. Nicholas (A. B. Camb. 
 
 A.M. Oxf.), II. 68 
 
 Habington, William, ..... III. 203
 
 C xx 3 
 
 Vol. P. 
 
 Hagthorpe, John, III. 138 
 
 Hall, John, II. 118 
 
 Hall, John, - III. 324- 
 
 Hall, Rev. Joseph, Bishop of Norwich (D. D. 
 
 Camb.), II. 386 
 
 Hannay, Patrick, - III. 135 
 
 Harington, John, - - - - II. 165 
 
 Harington, Sir John, Knt. (A. M. Camb.), II. 314 
 
 Hawes, Stephen, I. 409 
 
 Heath, Robert, III. 319 
 
 Henry VI. - I. 352 
 
 Henry VIII. II. 2 
 
 Henry the Minstrel, commonly called Blind 
 
 Harry (Sc.), I. 354- 
 
 Henrysoun, Robert (Sc.), - - ~ - I. 366 
 Herbert, Edward, Lord Herbert of Cher- 
 bury, K. B. III. 4-2 
 
 Herbert, Rev. George (A.M. Camb.), - III. 125 
 Herbert, William, Earl of Pembroke, III. 4O 
 Herrick, Rev. Robert, .... III. 307 
 
 Heywood, John, -- - - - -II. 16 
 
 Heywood, Thomas, ----- III. 31 
 
 Howard, Henry, Earl of Surrey, K. G. - II. 54 
 Howard, Sir Robert, Knt. M. P. - - III. 304 
 
 James I. of Scotland, II. 299 
 
 James I. of England, ----- III. 5 
 Johnstoun, Patrick (Sc.), - - I. 372 
 
 Jonson, Ben (A. M. Oxf.), - - - II. 388 
 
 Kendall, Timothy, II. 228 
 
 Kennedy, Walter (Sc.), - - - - I. 403
 
 [ xxi ] 
 
 Vol. P. 
 
 Kinaston, Sir Francis, Knt. (A. M. Camb.) III. 265 
 King, Rev. Henry, Bishop of Chichester 
 
 (D. D. Oxf.), III. 116 
 
 Lang! and, Robert, (Fellow of Oriel College ', 
 
 Oxf.\ - I. 147 
 
 Lindsay, Sir David (Sc.) - - - - IL 21 
 
 Lluellyn, Martin (M. D. Oxf.), - - II. 370 
 
 Lodge, Thomas (A. B. Oxf.), - - - II. 289 
 
 Lovelace, Richard (A. M. Oxf.), - - II. 273 
 Lydgate, John (Benedictine Monk of Bury,) I: 276 
 
 Lylie, John (A.M. Oxf.), - - - II. 24-1 
 Mannyng, alias de Brunne, Robert (Gilber- 
 
 tineMonk), - - I. 112 
 
 Marlowe, Christopher, - II. 326 
 
 Marvell, Andrew, M. P. - III. 292 
 
 May, Thomas, - - - III. 134- 
 Mayne, Rev. Jasper, Canon of Ch. Ch. and 
 
 Archdeacon of Chichester (D. D. Oxf.), III. 181 
 
 Mennis, Sir John, Knt. - III. 378 
 
 Mersar, (Sc.) ... - I. 374- 
 
 Milton, John (A. M. Camb. and Oxf.) III. 222 
 
 Murray, David (Sc.) - - III. 80 
 
 Nabbes, Thomas, - HI. 239 
 
 Norton, Thomas, - II. 136 
 Oxford, Earl of. Vide Vere. 
 
 Peacham, Henry (A. M. Camb.), - - II. 406 
 Pembroke, Earl of. Vide Herbert. 
 
 Prestwich, Edmund, .... HI. 327 
 
 Puttenham, Webster, alias George, - II. 164- 
 
 Quarles, Francis, - - III. 121 
 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter, Knt. M. P. - - II. 215
 
 C xx " 3 
 
 Vol. P. 
 
 Randolph, Thomas, (A. M. Camb. and Oxf.), III. 210 
 Robert of Gloucester. Vide Gloucester. 
 Rochester, Earl of. Vide Wilmot. 
 Rochford, Viscount. Vide Boleyn. 
 Roy, William, -< - II. 11 
 
 Sandys; George, , - - - III. 24< 
 
 Schaw, Quintyn (Sc.), I- 404- 
 
 Scot, Alexander (Sc.), - II. 123 
 
 Sedley, Sir Charles, Bart. - - III. 385 
 
 Shakspeare, William, - -II. 342 
 
 Sheppard, Rev. Samuel, - III. 322 
 
 Sherburne, Sir Edward, Knt. (A. M. Oxf.), III. 259 
 Shirley, James - - III. 129 
 
 Sidney, Sir Philip, Knt. - II. 24-7 
 
 Skelton, Rev. John, - II. 5 
 
 Smith, Rev. James (D. D. Oxf.), - - III. 378 
 Smith, William, - - -II. 381 
 
 Southwell, Robert, - - - II. 199 
 
 Spenser, Edmund, - II. 232 
 
 Stanley, Thomas, (A. M. Camb. and Oxf.), III. 312 
 Sterline, Earl of. Vide Alexander. 
 Stevenson, Matthew, - - III. 336 
 
 Still, Rev. John, Bishop of Bath and Wells 
 
 (D.D. Oxf.), - - II. 188 
 
 Strode, Rev. William, Canon of Ch. Ch. 
 
 (D.D. Oxf.), - - III. 173 
 Suckling, Sir John, Knt. - III. 24-3 
 Surrey, Earl of. Vide Howard. 
 Sylvester, Joshua, - - II. 330 
 Tatham, John, III. 257
 
 [] xxiii ] 
 
 Vol. P. 
 
 Turbervile, George, - - II. 180 
 
 Tusser, Thomas, - II. 14-3 
 
 Vaughan, Henry, - - III. 331 
 
 Vaux, Thomas, Lord Vaux, - - II. 82 
 
 Veel, Robert, - III. 401 
 
 Vere, Edward, Earl of Oxford, (A. M. Oxf), II. 167 
 Waller, Edmond, M. P. - III. 189 
 
 Walton, Izaac, ... III. 127 
 Warner, William, - II- 297 
 
 Wastel, Simon, (A. B. Oxf.), - - II. 359 
 
 Watson, Thomas, - II. 307 
 
 Willoby, Henry, - II. 375 
 
 Wilmot, John, Earl of Rochester(A.M.Oxf.), III. 404- 
 Wither, George, - III. 82 
 
 Wotton, Sir Henry, Knt. (Provost of Eton), II. 363' 
 Wyatt, Sfr Thomas, Knt. Bart. - - II. 43 
 Wyntown, Andrew of (Prior of the Monastery 
 of StSerPs Island,) (Sc.), - - - 1.249
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY Remarks on Language. On the 
 Poetry of the Anglo-Saxons. Specimen of Saxon 
 Poetry. - - page 1 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 The same Subject continued. Account of Norman 
 Poets in England. Specimen of W ace's Brut. 35 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 State of our Language and Poetry in the REIGN OF 
 HENRY II. and RICHARD I. exemplified by an 
 Extract from Layamon's Translation of Wace. 
 Conjectures concerning the Period at which the 
 Anglo-Norman or English Language began to 
 be formed. Early Specimen of English Poetry 
 from Hickes's Thesaurus. 60 
 
 VOL i. c
 
 [ xxvr ] 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Robert of Gloucester Specimen Various small 
 Poems apparently iwritten during the latter part 
 of the thirteenth Century. Robert de Brunne 
 Specimen. .... 97 
 
 CHAP V. 
 REIGN OF EDWARD II. 
 
 Changein the Language produced by frequent Trans- 
 lationsjrom the French. Minstrels. Sources of 
 Romance. Adam Davie Specimens of his Life 
 of Alexander. Robert Baston. - 124- 
 
 CHAP VI. 
 
 REIGN OF EDWARD III. 
 
 Richard Rolle, the Hermit ofHampole- Laurence 
 Minot. Pierce Ploughman's Vision Specimens 
 of the Vision. Pierce the Ploughman's Creed 
 Specimen. - - - - - 146 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 REIGN OF EDWARD III. CONTINUED. 
 John Cower Specimens of his Poetry. ~ 169
 
 [ xxvii 3 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 REIGN OF EDWARD HL<CONTINUED. 
 Geoffrey Chaucer' Specimens. - - 199 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 SAME PERIOD CONTINUED. 
 
 John Barbour. Remarks on the Language of Scot- 
 land at this Period- Sketch of the Bruce. Ex- 
 tracts from that Poem. - . _ 228 
 
 CHAP X. 
 REIGN OF HENRY IV. 
 
 Andrew of Wyntoiun Extracts from his Chronicle 
 of Scotland. Thomas Hoccleve. Anonymous 
 English Poetry. 24.9 
 
 CHAP XL 
 REIGN OF HENRY V. 
 
 Life ofLydgate Character of his Writings Spe- 
 , cmen of his Troy Book. 276 
 
 CHAP XII. 
 REIGN OF HENRY V. CONTINUED. 
 
 James I. King of Scotland Extractfrom the King's 
 Qiiair. 299
 
 [ xxviii ] 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 REIGN OF HENRY VI. 
 
 * 
 
 Digression on the Private Life of the English. 316 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 REIGN OF HENRY VI. CONTINUED. 
 
 Hugh de Campeden. Thomas Chestre. Scotish 
 Poets Clerk qfTranent Holland. Henry the 
 Minstrel Extracts. REIGNS OF EDWARD IV. 
 andV. Harding. Scogan. Norton. Ripley. 
 Lady Juliana Berners. Specimen from the 
 Book of Hawking and Hunting. William of 
 Nassyngton. Lord Rivers. Scotish Poets. 
 Robert Henrysoun Specimens. Patrick John- 
 stoun Specimen. Mersar Specimen. 350 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 REIGN o* HENRY VII. 
 
 William Dunbar Extracts Gawin Douglas 
 
 Account of his Works t and Extracts from the 
 Prologues to his Virgil. Minor Poets of this 
 Reign. Alexander Barclay. Stephen Hawes 
 Specimens, ... - - 377 
 
 Additional Extract from Robert de Brunne. 417
 
 HISTORICAL SKETCH, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introductory Remarks on Language. On the 
 Poetry of the Anglo- Saxons. Specimen of 
 Saxon Poetry. 
 
 1 HERE is, perhaps, no species of reading so popu- 
 lar as that which presents a description of manners 
 and customs considerably different from our own ; 
 and it is the frequency of such pictures, interspersed 
 in the relations of voyages and travels, that princi- 
 pally recommends them to notice, and explains the 
 avidity with which they are usually received by the 
 public. But, as the pleasure we derive from tliis 
 source must be proportionate to the degree of in- 
 terest which we take in the persons described, it 
 VOL. i. A
 
 [ 2 ] 
 
 is probable that a series of the works of our own 
 ancestors, and particularly of their poetry, which, 
 whatever may be its defects, is sure to exhibit the 
 most correct and lively delineation of contempo- 
 rary manners, would attract very general notice, if 
 it were not considered, by the greater number of 
 readers, as a hopeless attempt, to search for these 
 sources of amusement and information, amidst, the 
 obscurity of a difficult and almost unintelligible 
 language. 
 
 To appreciate this difficulty is one of the objects 
 of the present sketch : it may, therefore, be proper, 
 for the benefit of the unlearned reader, to preface 
 it by a few general remarks on this part of the 
 subject. 
 
 It is well known that our English is a compound 
 of the Anglo-Saxon, (previously adulterated with a 
 mixture of the Danish, ) and of the Norman- French: 
 but the proportion in which these elements were 
 combined, at any period of our history, cannot be 
 very easily ascertained. Hickes is of opinion, that 
 no less than nine -tenths of our present English 
 words are of Saxon origin; as a familiar proof of 
 which he observes, that there are in the Lord's 
 Prayer only three words of French or Latin extrac- 
 tion. On the other hand, Mr Tyrwhitt contends 
 that, about the time of Chaucer, " though the
 
 C 3 ] 
 
 form, of our language was still Saxon, the matter 
 was, in a great measure, French." These opinions, 
 indeed, relate to such different periods, that they 
 are not, strictly speaking, capable of being opposed 
 to each other ; but it is nearly evident that both are 
 exaggerated : Dr Hickes having probably imagined 
 that he saw traces of a Gothic etymology in words 
 which were, in fact, purely French ; while Mr 
 Tyrwhitt, being misled by his own glossary of ob- 
 solete words, (in which the two languages are 
 pretty nearly balanced,) has neglected to observe 
 that the greater part of his author's text, which 
 required no explanation, was almost solely derived 
 from the Saxon. But, be the proportion what it 
 may, it should seem that we ought to possess in 
 the various existing glossaries of the Gothic and 
 Romance dialects, the means of recovering nearly 
 all the original materials of our language. 
 
 It is true that these materials, in passing from 
 the parent tongues into English, are likely to have 
 undergone considerable changes in their appear- 
 ance : it may, therefore, be worth while to exa- 
 mine for a moment the probable nature and ex- 
 tent of these alterations. 
 
 Dr Adam Smith, in his very ingenious essay on 
 the formation of languages, has observed, that the 
 order in which the several kinds of words (or parts
 
 C 4 ] 
 
 of speech) were invented, may fairly be inferred 
 from the degree of reasoning and abstraction which 
 was necessary to their invention : that it was a 
 much simpler expedient to represent what gram- 
 marians call the cases of nouns, and the moods 
 and tenses of verbs, by varying their terminations 
 and inflections, than to invent prepositions expres- 
 sive of relation in general, or auxiliary verbs con- 
 veying the very abstract ideas of existence, posses- 
 sion, &c. and, consequently, that all original lan- 
 guages will be found to be very complicated in 
 their mechanism, and full of varieties of termina- 
 tion and grammatical intricacy, but extremely li- 
 mited in the number of their elementary and ra- 
 dical words. 
 
 But although the speech of any nation, in which 
 the paucity of its distinct words is thus supplied 
 by the number of their inflections, may become 
 perfectly applicable to every purpose, it is evident 
 that two such languages cannot easily be amalga- 
 mated, because the radical words in each, having 
 been arbitrarily chosen, will probably be very dif- 
 ferent ; their respective schemes of grammar will 
 have been formed on different analogies ; and, 
 consequently, the number of declensions and con- 
 jugations resulting from a mixture of the two would 
 be almost infinite. When, therefore, a very close 
 intercourse takes place between the natives of two
 
 C 5 ] 
 
 countries, in consequence of their commercial pur- 
 suits, or the operations of war and conquest, it is 
 likely that they will be under the necessity of form- 
 ing an intermediate language, whose grammatical 
 construction shall be so simple as to be capable of 
 admitting indifferently, from either of the compo- 
 nent parts, as many words as it may from time to 
 time become convenient to adopt. And observa- 
 tion will soon teach them, that this simplicity is 
 easily attainable by means of the prepositions and 
 auxiliary verbs, which are capable of being substi- 
 tuted for all the varieties of the ancient declensions 
 and conjugations. 
 
 Whether this theory be universally true or not, 
 it is perfectly evident that the expedient here men- 
 tioned has been adopted in the formation of all the 
 mixed European languages ; from the Latin (which 
 is supposed to be a compound of the Greek and 
 ancient Tuscan), to that lingua^franca y of which 
 the various dialects are spoken along both coasts of 
 the Mediterranean : and that in Italy, France, and 
 England, the scheme and mechanism of grammar 
 has become progressively more simple, in propor- 
 tion to the number of heterogeneous parts of which 
 the respective languages have been composed. 
 
 It is remarkable that Dr Johnson, though he has 
 noticed, and even accurately described the grada-
 
 E 6 ] 
 
 tions by which the Saxon was insensibly melted 
 into the English language, has considered the cause 
 of these changes as inexplicable. " The adultera- 
 tion of the Saxon tongue (says he,) by a mixture 
 of the Norman, becomes apparent ; yet it is not so 
 much changed by the admixture of new words, 
 which might be imputed to commerce with the Con- 
 tinent, as by changes of its own form and termina- 
 tions ; for which no reason can be given." The 
 reader, however, who shall take even a cursory sur- 
 vey of the extracts which gave rise to this remark, 
 will probably be convinced, that these changes in 
 the Saxon consist solely in the extinction of its an- 
 cient grammatical inflections, and that they are ex- 
 actly similar to the alterations by which the Latin 
 was gradually transformed into the several Ro- 
 mance dialects. 
 
 But it is evident that, although the new scheme 
 of grammar was perfectly simple, and composed of 
 few elements, yet the precise and definite use of 
 those elements could not be suddenly established. 
 In employing our prepositions, for instance, though 
 we are seldom aware of the nice shades of discri- 
 mination which we observe, till the remark is forced 
 upon us by some striking violation of the usual 
 practice, it is certain that mere reasoning and ana- 
 logy would prove very insufficient guides. When
 
 C 7 ] 
 
 our neighbours the Scots talk of going tiU instead 
 of to a place, or of asking a question at rather than 
 of a man, we are immediately startled, without 
 reflecting that our own practice is only founded on 
 convention and habit. Amongst our elder writers 
 the use of the prepositions was, as might be ex- 
 pected, extremely vague and indefinite. 
 
 With the auxiliary verbs there was less difficulty ; 
 indeed the Normans, having only two words of this 
 class, were accustomed to apply them to a greater 
 variety of purposes than was usual with the Saxons. 
 Hence perhaps arose the transitive use of the verb 
 do, which is so frequent in our early writers ; as in 
 do make (fairefaire) &c. ; and the old Scotish poets 
 carry their imitation of the French still farther, so 
 as to use doing make ; done make ; &c. an employ- 
 ment of the verb which I do not recollect to have 
 seen in English. 
 
 It is unnecessary to pursue these remarks any 
 farther, because the reader will find, in Mr. Tyr- 
 whitt's " Essay on the Language and Versification 
 of Chaucer," a complete analysis of our grammar, 
 as it subsisted during the thirteenth and fourteenth 
 centuries. Indeed, from what has been already pre- 
 mised, we are perhaps authorized to conclude that, 
 notwithstanding the pretended fluctuation ofspeech, 
 tt fluctuation which has been oftcner supposed than
 
 r s ] 
 
 proved,* the great body of our language has con- 
 tinued, with very few material or intrinsic altera- 
 tions, from its first formation to the present hour : 
 and that, if the study of our early writers be at- 
 tended with considerable difficulty and embarrass- 
 ment, these are principally to be attributed to a 
 cause very distinct from the mere influx of new^ 
 or changes in the structure of old words. 
 
 The Saxon alphabet may be supposed to have 
 been tolerably well suited to its purposes, as it 
 contained five and twenty letters, besides a certain 
 number of points, or accents, which are generally 
 supposed to have been employed for the purpose 
 of fixing the prosody, and distinguishing the short 
 from the long vowels. These accents, however, to- 
 gether with those minute delicacies of pronunciation 
 
 * It is well known that the Welsh soldiers who served in 
 our army at the siege of Bellisle (in the war of 1756), found 
 little difficulty in understanding the language of the Bretons. 
 The Sclavonian sailors, employed on board of Venetian 
 ships in the Russian trade, never fail to recognize a kindred 
 dialect on their arrival at St Petersburgh. Many more 
 examples might be adduced to shew that the language of a 
 country is never destroyed, but by the annihilation of its 
 inhabitants, nor materially changed, but by their amalga- 
 mation with some other people. Indeed, all over the 
 world, children endeavour to speak like their parents, and 
 it may be presumed that they seldom fail in the attempt.
 
 [ 9 ] 
 
 which they were intended to represent, gradually 
 fell into disuse, when the language became corrupt- 
 ed, first by the Danish, and afterwards by the Nor- 
 man invasion : and it is to be observed that the 
 many new sounds which, at the latter of these pe- 
 riods, were introduced into the language, were by 
 no means accompanied by a correspondent number 
 of new and distinctive signs, because the French 
 or Latin alphabet was already familiar to the Sax- 
 ons, who had adopted many of its letters, on ac- 
 count of their superior beauty, as early as the time 
 of Alfred. 
 
 It has been observed by those writers who have 
 particularly directed their attention to this subject, 
 that, in the present state of our language, we have 
 no less than thirteen distinct vowel sounds, and 
 twenty-one modifications of those sounds, making 
 in all thirty-four, which we express, as well as we 
 can, by six-and-twenty letters ; but at an earlier 
 period of our language, when the spelling of the 
 Norman words was intended to convey the Nor- 
 man pronunciation, the deficiency of adequate 
 signs must have been still more sensibly felt ; so 
 that our ancestors, finding it absolutely impossible 
 to adopt any consistent mode of orthography, fairly 
 left it to the discretion or caprice of the several 
 writers and transcribers.
 
 Chaucer, it seems, was perfectly aware of this 
 inconvenience. In his address to his book he says, 
 
 ** And, for there is so great diversite 
 " In English, and in writing of our tongue, 
 ** So pray I to God that none mis-write thee, 
 " Ne thee mis-metre for default of tongue : 
 v And, read whereso thou be, or elles sung, 
 " That thou be understand, God I beseech /" 
 
 Troilus and Cress. End of Book V. 
 
 It was easier to prefer a prayer, than to suggest 
 any human means of accomplishing the object of 
 his wishes. 
 
 The veil which obscures the writings of our early 
 poets cannot now be wholly removed : and perhaps, 
 among the admirers of antiquity, there may be some 
 who would regret its removal ; because, like other 
 veils, it leaves much to the imagination. But the 
 present trivial work having been compiled for the 
 convenience of indolent and cursory readers, it ap- 
 peared necessary to adopt, as generally as possible, 
 in all the extracts which are hereafter given, the 
 orthography of the present day ; not as being quite 
 rational (which it certainly is not), but as being in 
 some degree consistent, and fixed by custom and 
 authority. Those obsolete words which, having
 
 [ II ] 
 
 been long since elbowed out of the language by 
 French, or Latin, or Greek substitutes, were not 
 reducible to any definite mode of spelling ; those 
 which, having undergone a change in their vowel 
 sounds, or in their number of syllables, could not be 
 reformed without disturbing the rhyme or metre ; 
 and those which were so far disguised as to offer no 
 certain meaning, have been left to that fortuitous 
 combination of letters which the original transcri- 
 bers or printers had assigned to them. Such are 
 printed in italics, for the purpose of more easy re- 
 ference to the glossarial notes, in which their mean- 
 ing is explained or conjectured. 
 
 After these short preliminary observations on the 
 language of our ancestors, it becomes necessary to 
 say a few words concerning their poetry. This, in 
 its spirit and character, seems to have resembled 
 those Runic odes so admirably imitated by Mr 
 Gray ; but its mechanism and scheme of versifica- 
 tion, notwithstanding all the pains which Hickes 
 has employed in attempting to investigate them, 
 are still completely inexplicable. Mr Tyrwhitt has 
 justly observed, that we do not discover in the spe- 
 cimens of Anglo-Saxon poetry preserved by Hickes 
 any very studied attempts at alliteration (a species 
 of ornament probably introduced by the Danes), 
 uor (he embellishment of rhyme, nor a metre de-
 
 [ 12 ] 
 
 pending on a fixed and determinate number of syl- 
 lables, nor that marked attention to their quantity 
 which Hickes supposed to have constitufed the dis- 
 tinction between verse and prose. Indeed, it may 
 be observed, in addition to the arguments adduced 
 by Mr Tyrwhitt, that as the distinctive character 
 of the Greek and Latin prosody was obliterated by 
 the invasion of the northern nations, it is not pro- 
 bable that the original poetry of these nations 
 should have been founded on a similar prosody ; 
 particularly, as the harmony of all the modern 
 languages depends much more upon accent and 
 emphasis, that is to say, upon changes in the tone 
 or in the strength of the voice, than upon quantity, 
 by which is meant the length of time employed in 
 pronouncing the syllables. Upon the whole, it 
 must still remain a doubt, whether the Anglo- 
 Saxon verses were strictly metrical, or whether 
 they were only distinguished from prose by some 
 species of rhythm : to a modern reader it will cer- 
 tainly appear that there is no other criterion but 
 that which is noticed by Mr Tyrwhitt, namely, 
 " a greater pomp of diction, and a more stately kind 
 of march." The variety of inflection, by which the 
 Anglo-Saxon language was distinguished from the 
 modern English, gave to their poets an almost un- 
 limited power of inversion ; and they used it almo?t
 
 [ 13 ] 
 
 without reserve : not so much perhaps for the pur- 
 pose of varying the cadence of their verse, as with 
 a view to keep the attention of their hearers upon 
 the stretch by the artificial obscurity of their style ; 
 and to astonish them by those abrupt transitions 
 which are very commonly (though rather absurd- 
 ly) considered as Pindaric, and which are the uni- 
 versal characteristic of savage poetry. 
 
 That the reader may be enabled to judge for him- 
 self concerning the truth of all the foregoing ob- 
 servations, he is here presented with a specimen 
 of Anglo-Saxon poetry. The only liberty which 
 has been taken with it, is that of substituting the 
 common characters instead of the Saxon ; and a 
 literal translation is added, for the purpose of shew- 
 ing the variety of inversions in which the Saxon 
 poets so much delighted. But as such a transla- 
 tion is very ill calculated to convey the spirit of a 
 poetical original, I am happy in being enabled, by 
 the kindness of a friend, to subjoin a second and 
 a metrical version. This was written several years 
 ago, during the controversy occasioned by the 
 poems attributed to Rowley, and was intended as 
 an imitation of the style and language of the four- 
 teenth century. The reader will probably hear 
 with some surprise, that this singular instance of 
 critical ingenuity was the composition of an Eton 
 school-boy.
 
 AN ODE ON ATHELSTAN'S VICTORY, 
 
 From Two MSS. in the Cottonidn Library, Bri- 
 tish Museum, Tiberius, B. iv. and Tiberius, A. 
 vi. dated 937 in Gibson's Chronicle, and in 
 Hickes's Saxon Grammar 938, and supposed to 
 be 'written by a contemporary Bard. 
 
 SAXON ORIGINAL. 
 
 Her JEthelstan cyning, 
 Eorla drighten, 
 Beorna beah T gifa * 
 And his brother eac, 
 
 1 Ballice is boldly, Mar. xv. 41, in the Rush worth gloss, 
 and bealh varies little in sound from beah. 
 
 * Whiter in his Lltymol. p. 347, gives gevar, Chaldaic, and 
 thence deduces our corresponding chief, captain, &c. g and c
 
 This celebrated ODE is rendered into English as 
 literally as possible, to show the very great affinity 
 between our present language and its Saxonfore- 
 father, which, it is hoped, will be admitted as an 
 excuse for some occasional obscurity. 
 
 LITERAL RENDERING. 
 
 Here Athelstan King, 
 Of Earls the Lord, 
 Of Barons the bold chief, 
 And his brother eke, 
 
 are certainly letters of the same organ ; and in Saxon cafrc 
 and cafott, are chief, chiefest ; and Matt, xxvii 57, Gothic, 
 gabigt is applied to Joseph of Arimathea, an honourable
 
 C 16 ] 
 
 Eadmund ^Etheling, 3 
 Ealdor langne tyr, 4 
 Geslogon aet ssecce, 
 Sweorda ecgum, 
 Ymbe Brunanburh. 
 Heord weal clufan, 
 Heowan heatholindga, 
 Ha rnera 5 lafum, 
 Eaforan Eadwardes. 
 
 Swa him gaaethele 6 waes, 
 Fram cneo 7 maegum, 
 Thaet hi aet campe oft 
 With lathra 8 gehwaene 9 
 Land geal 10 godon; 11 
 
 3 JEthel, h&leth, haleltan, cilt, clyto, on Mr Whiter 's ele- 
 mentary principle, are all deducible from /, t, disregarding 
 the vowels, and the Latin altus, inclytus, Greek xXvm;, 
 our exalted, lofty, &c. yEtheling is the young .'Ethel, or 
 noble. 
 
 4 Thrym, derived from turma, is a common term for a 
 train, and the Saxons sometimes added, frequently omitted, 
 the m final ; and in English tier, as tier of guns, a row, a 
 long line of ancestors. 
 
 5 The marches of Wales and the North of England eluci- 
 date this term to an English reader, but it is derived from 
 the Gothic Markos, Mat, ix. 34, where mecr is the corre- 
 sponding Ssxon, and signifies marks defining boundaries. 
 
 6
 
 C n 3 
 
 Edmund Atheling, 
 
 Elders a long train, 
 
 Slew in the shock (of war) 
 
 With the edges of swords 
 
 Round Brunanburgh. 
 
 They cloven the hard walls, 
 
 They hew the lofty ones, 
 
 The marches (borders) they leave, 
 
 As aforen in Edward's days. 
 
 So to them it destined was 
 From their mighty kindred, 
 That they at camp oft 
 Gainst robbers on each side 
 Their land wholly cleared ; 
 
 6 Th and d are the same letter in Saxon ; and in Caed- 
 inon, whose style alone resembles this Ode, there is adteled, 
 portioned, destined, and dal, Saxon, and dalgs, Gothic, are 
 common terms for portion, or ht, synonimous with the mo- 
 dern deal. 
 
 7 This word corresponds with cyn, genus, and certainly 
 the kneci of Gibson conveys no appropriate idea. 
 
 8 The Latin latro. 
 
 9 Each whence, literally. 
 
 10 Geall is all, in the Lambeth Psalter, Ps. IXY. 15. 
 
 11 Geaton is found for / get, in the Saxon Chronicle, An. 
 655, 675, 963. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 [ 18 ] 
 
 Hord and hamas 
 Heted crungon. " 
 
 Scotta leode *' 
 And scip flotan 
 Feoge feollon. 
 Feld dernode, 
 Secga I4 swate, 
 Siththan sunne up 
 On morgen tid ; 
 Maere tungol 
 Glad ofer grundas, 
 Godes candel beorht, 
 Eces drihtnes, 
 Oth se aethele gesceaft '* 
 Sahto setle. 
 
 Thaer laeg secg monig, 
 Garum ageted, 1($ 
 Guman 1? northaerne 
 Ofer scyld sceoten, 
 
 1X This may be derived from raginon, regere, Goth. 
 Luc. !i. 2. 
 
 ** This word is retained in the English lad, and the 
 Scotch laddies. 
 
 14 General name for soldiers ; and our old English word 
 scgge, a man.
 
 Their hoards aqd homes 
 Nobly ruling. 
 
 The Scottish lads 
 And the men of .the fleet 
 In fight fell. 
 The field dinned, 
 The soldiers swat, 
 Sith that the sun up 
 On morning tide ; 
 The major twinkler 
 Glided over the grounds, 
 God's candle bright, 
 Eke so the Lord's, 
 Until this handy-work of the high 
 Sought his setting. 
 
 There lay soldiers many, 
 Their gore flowing out, 
 Northern men 
 Over their shields shot, 
 
 11 Whatever is created, shaped. 
 
 " Ageotcnnc, Ps. xiii. G, where the Trinity College MS. 
 has tccdende to shed, to go out ; Gothic, giutid. 
 
 17 Ghomo, homo, pronounced with their favourite g, or 
 gt , iu Gothic, Luc, xiz, 2, gwna.
 
 [ 20 ] 
 
 Swylce Scyttisc eac 
 Werig wiges read. IS 
 
 Wes-Seaxe forth, 
 Andlangne daeg> 
 Eorocl cystum, 
 On last laegdon 
 Lathum theodunj. 
 Heowan heora flyman, 
 Hindan thearle I5> 
 Mecum * mycel scearpum. 
 
 Myrce ne wyrndon " 
 Heardes hand to plegan. " 
 Haeleth a nanuni 
 Thaera the mid Anlafe 
 Ofer Maera gebland,** 
 On lides * 4 bosme, 
 Land gesohton, 
 Faege to gefeohte. 
 
 18 The MS. Tiberius, A. vi. gives read, not teed, the print* 
 ed reading. 
 
 19 Here to thrill, or drill, as Exod. xxi. 6, thirlie his care 
 mid anum ale, " drill his ear with an awl," a custom retain* 
 ed by our forefathers, and executed on their slaves at the 
 church door. 
 
 20 The Trinity College MS. supplies us with the cleriva- 
 
 6
 
 [ 21 ] 
 
 So Scotish men eke, 
 Red with worrying war. 
 
 The West-Saxon forth (army) 
 All the long day, 
 (A chosen herd,) 
 On the last laid 
 Of the loathed people, 
 They hew their fleeing men, 
 The hind ones pierce 
 With swords mickle sharp. 
 
 The Mercians (rvere) not wearied 
 Hard hands to ply. 
 Health aye (was') none 
 To them who with Anlaf 
 Over the seas blown were, 
 On the bosom of the waves, 
 The land they sought, 
 Foe to fight. 
 
 lion of this word, Ps. xvi. 14, giving meche where another 
 has sword : the first syllable of the Greek f^<{ or ?*)(* 
 
 11 Bede uses the word in this sense, 533, 31. 
 ; Alfred, in his translation of Bocthius, gives plegian, 
 to brandish. 
 
 23 Gebleifw, Kushworth Gloss. John. xx. %i. 
 
 * This probably is an error for ythe, the common word 
 for waves.
 
 [ 22 ] 
 
 Fife lagon 
 On tham campstede 
 Cyningas uinga 
 Swordum aswefede. * s 
 
 Swylce seofene eac 
 Eorles Anlafes. 
 Unrim * 6 herges * 7 
 Flotan and Scotta 
 Thaer geflymed wearth. 
 
 Northmanna bregu 28 
 Nyde gebaeded 
 Tolides 19 stefne3 
 Litle werede 3I 
 Cread 3 * cnear on 
 Flot cyning, 
 
 15 Swebban, Csedmon ; b,f, and p, are letters of the same 
 organ, and asurpan, swept away, Lye. The Greek, <p. 
 
 16 Unrim, unnumbered, from innumerus ; n, r, m, the 
 commanding consonants, the same as rim is numerus, the 
 termination us dropped. 
 
 27 This word implies Har assert, according to Lye, from 
 hergian, to harrow. The Gothic hargis, a legion. 
 
 18 This word proves beyond the possibility of doubt that 
 b and / are used indiscriminately by Saxon writers ; for 
 bregyd is frequently used for fregyth, frighted, here literally 
 the frighter, as in the Gothic, Mar. v. 42,/oitr/itei.
 
 C 23 ] 
 
 Five lay 
 
 On the camp-stead 
 Of kings the young 
 By swords swept away. 
 
 So seven eke 
 The earls of Anlaf. 
 Unnumbered harassers 
 Of the fleet and Scots 
 There to flee made were. 
 
 Of North-men the terror, 
 By need forced, bidden 
 With a loud stefen (voice) 
 His remaining warriors 
 For to crowd near on 
 The fleet of the king, 
 
 *9 Luddor a louder, Chr. Sar. An. 654, though lud it 
 more generally transmitted with the aspirate A, hlud. 
 
 ! Steven is a common term for voice, even in Chaucer. 
 
 Jl The modern warned, engaged in waging war. Vide 
 ueored, Lye's Dictionary. 
 
 11 Cread, a crowd, Lye ; here wed as a verb.
 
 Utgewat on feolene 3J flod, 3* 
 Feorh generede. 3i 
 
 Swilce thaer eac se froda 36 
 Mid fleame com on his cyththe 
 Nordh Constantinus. 
 Har Hylderinc, 
 Hryman ne thorfte, 
 Mecga geraanana 
 He vvses his maega. 
 
 Sceard freonda 
 Gefylled on folc-stede, 
 Forebeslagen aet secge. 
 And his sunu forlet 
 On wael stowe, 
 Wundum forgrunden. 
 
 Geongne ^Etguthe 
 Gylpan ne thorfte 
 
 Beorn bland en-feax 
 
 
 
 Bill gislihtes, 
 Eald in wuda. 
 
 Feoll, fell. Deut. ix. 18, 
 
 3 * x Luc. vi. 49,^oti. Sax. Goth, aquafiodar. 
 
 35 Gener is the general term for a place of refuge.
 
 [ 25 3 
 
 Out-going on falling Hood, 
 Far escaped. 
 
 So there eke the prudent 
 With flight came to his country 
 The northern Constantine. 
 The h*ary Hilderic, 
 To scream not throve it, (availed not,) 
 Much bemoan 
 He did his mates. 
 
 Short (few) friends 
 Filled his folk-stead, 
 Fore-slain they were at the shock. 
 And his son was left 
 On the wailful stow, (Afield,) 
 With wounds weltering on the ground. 
 
 The young 
 To bewail availed not 
 His barons bold in tight, 
 Slaughtered by the bill, 
 Old in wisdom. 
 
 Froda. is the Gothic/rods, Mat. vii. 21, the Latin pnt- 
 changed into ff, r, d, 5, commanding consonants.
 
 [ 26 ] 
 
 Ne Anlaf the ma, 
 Mid hyra here leafum, 
 Hlihhan ne thorftan, 
 Thaet hi beado 37 weorca 
 Beteran wurdon 
 On camp-stede. 
 
 Cumbol 38 gehnastes, 
 Gar 3? mittunge 4 
 Guraena gemotes, 
 Waepen ge wrixles 4I 
 Thaes the hi on wael felda 
 With ead 4 * weardes 
 Afaran plegodan. 
 
 Gewiton 43 him tha Northmen, 
 Daeggled on garum, 
 Dreorig dare tha laf. 
 On duniges mere, 
 Ofer deopne waeter, 
 Dyflen secan, 
 
 37 Bate is the term of contention ; and beat, to beat. 
 J8 Cumbol sounds as symbel, assembly. 
 
 39 Gar is great, as gar segg, Oros. I.I, the ocean, great sea. 
 
 40 Mittunge and gemotis are from the same source, the 
 Gothic motustada, Luc. v. 27, the Moot-stadt, place of meet- 
 ing. 
 
 41 This is generally used for exchange, aud is the word in
 
 [ 27 ] 
 
 Nor Anlaf the more, 
 With the left (remainder) of the array, 
 To laugh not throve it,* 
 That they battles work 
 Better wrought 
 In camp-stead. 
 
 At assembly the nighest, 
 The great meeting 
 Of the men of the motes, f 
 Weep the ransoms 
 Of those that they on wail-field 
 Guarded by an oath 
 Aforcn pledged. 
 
 Quit them the Northmen 
 With tackled gear, (with sails repaired,) 
 Dreary those the left, (the remainder.) 
 On the dingy sea, 
 Over deep waters, 
 Dublin they seek, 
 
 that passage of the Evangelist, " what shall a man give in 
 exchange for his soul." Matth. xvi. 26. Mark, viii. 37. 
 
 ** Ead, an cath, an oath, 
 
 41 This word pronounced sounds as quitten. 
 
 * To laugh, to boast, availed not. 
 
 t Ward-mote* is still in constant use to eipress a meet- 
 ing of tUe principal inhabitants of the ward.
 
 [ 28 ] 
 
 Eft yra land, 
 .ZEwi scamode. 
 
 Swylce tha gebrothor, 44 
 Bege aetrunne 4S 
 Cyning and Etheling, 
 Cyththe sohton, 
 West-Seaxna land. 
 
 Wiges hremige 
 Lsetan him behindan-. 
 Hra Bryttinga, 
 Salowig padan, 
 Thone sweartan hraefan 
 Hyrnet nebban, 
 And thone hasu-wadan earn 
 jEftan hwit aeses brucan, 
 Graedigne cuth haofoc, 
 And thaet grege deor, 
 Wulfon wealde. 
 
 Ne wearth wael mare 
 On thisne iglande, 
 
 44 Cedecan is to deck, thatch, cover. 
 
 45 Gibson reads atsunne, but Tiberius, A. vi, tetrtmne. 
 togetheren.
 
 C 29 3 
 
 Afterwards their land, 
 Each were shamed. 
 
 So also the brothers, 
 Both together 
 The King and Atheling, 
 Their country sought, 
 West-Saxon land. 
 
 The war screamers 
 Left they behind ; 
 The hoarse bittern, 
 The sallow paddock* 
 The swarth raven 
 With horned nib, 
 And the house-wooding * heron 
 Eating white fish of the brooks, 
 The greedy gos-hawk, 
 The grey deer, 
 And wolf wild. 
 
 Never was there wail more 
 In this island, 
 
 * That builds his house in the loftiest woods.
 
 [ so 3 
 
 (JEfce gita 
 
 Folces gefylled) 
 
 Beforan thyssum 
 
 Swordes ecgum, 
 
 ( Thaes the us secgath * 6 bee 
 
 Ealde uth witan,) 
 
 Siththan eastan hider, 
 
 Engle and Seaxe, 
 
 Up becomon. 
 
 Ofer brade briniu, 
 
 Britene sohton. 
 
 Wlance wig smithas 
 
 Weales ofer comon, 
 
 Eorlas arhwaete, 
 
 Eard begeaton. 
 
 46 .-This rendering is confirmed by the Heptateuch of 
 Thwaites, p. 169.
 
 (Ever since 
 
 By folks filled) 
 
 Before this 
 
 By sword's edge, 
 
 (Thus they that seek books, 
 
 Elders of the witens,*) 
 
 Since that the easterns hither, 
 
 Angles and Saxons, 
 
 Up became, (arrived) 
 
 Over the broad brine (sea) 
 
 Britain they sought. 
 
 Smiting with lances 
 
 The Welch they conquered, 
 
 The earls harrowed, 
 
 The earth gotten, (the land obtained) 
 
 Thus it is related by the Clerks, the learned.
 
 C 32 ] 
 
 METRICAL VERSION OF THE FOREGOING 
 POEM. 
 
 The mightiest of alle manne 
 Was the gutle king Athelstan. 
 Alle his knytis to hir medis 
 Weren riche and ryal wedis. 
 Edmond, his brother, was a knyt 
 Coraelich, brave, and fair to syht. 
 At Brunenbruc in stour they faught ; 
 Fiercer fray was never wraught. 
 Maille was split, and helmis roven, 
 The wall of shieldis down they cloven. 
 The Thanis which cold with Edmond fare 
 To meet the foemen well were yare : 
 For it was comen to hem of kynde 
 Hir londis and tresours to fend. 
 
 The kempis, whych was of Irlond, 
 On ilka daie, on ilka strond, 
 Weted with blude, and wounded, fell 
 Rapely smatin with the stell. 
 Grislich on the grund they groned ; 
 Ab'oven, alle the hyls resouned.
 
 C 33 ] 
 
 What for labour, and what for hete, 
 The kempis swate til they wer wete. 
 From morrow til the close of day 
 Was the tyme of that jour nee. 
 
 Monie mon from Dacie sprong 
 The deth tholid, I underfong. 
 The Scottis fell in that bataille, 
 Whyche wer forwerid of travaille. 
 The West Sexonb wer ware 
 When their foen away wold fare ; 
 As they fled they did hem sewe 
 Wyth ghazed swcrdis, that wel couth hew. 
 The cokins they n'olden staie, 
 For thir douten of that fraye. 
 
 The Mercians fought I understood ; 
 There was gamen of the hond. 
 Alle that with Anlaff hir way nom 
 OveF the seas in the shippes wome, 
 And the five sonnes of the kynge 
 Fel mid dint of ewerd fightinge. 
 His seven erlis died alswo ; 
 Many Scottes wer killed tho. 
 The Normannes, for their migty bost, 
 Went hame with a lytyl host. 
 VOL. i. c
 
 [ 54 ] 
 
 The kynge and frode syked sore 
 For hir kempis whyche wer forlore. 
 The kynge and frode to schyppe gan flee 
 Wyth mickel haste, but her meguie. 
 Constantino gude and Anlaff 
 Lytyl host hadde of the laif. 
 Maie he nat glosen, ne saie 
 But he was right wel appaie. 
 In Dacie of that gaming 
 Monie wemen hir hondis wring. 
 The Normannes passed that rivere 
 Mid hevy hart and sory chere. 
 The brothers to Wessex yode, 
 Leving the crowen, and the tode, 
 Hawkes, doggis, and wolves tho, 
 Egles, and monie other mo, 
 With the ded men for their medef, 
 On hir corses for to fede. 
 
 Sen the Saxonis first come 
 In schippes over the sea-fome, 
 Of the yeres that ben forgone, 
 Greater bataile was never none.
 
 C 35 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The same Subject continued. Account of 
 Norman Poets in England. 
 
 J.T has been seen that, although the great mass of 
 our language is derived from our Anglo-Saxon 
 ancestors, the mechanism and structure of our 
 poetry is to be referred to some other source ; and 
 it is generally supposed that all the modes of ver- 
 sification now in use were borrowed from the 
 French, who appear to have adopted them, to- 
 gether with the ornament of rhyme, in imitation of 
 the Latin monkish versifiers. To whom we should 
 ascribe the original invention of this ornament is 
 not quite so certain. Fauchet claims it for his 
 countrymen ; but, as he founds their pretensions on 
 the Prankish translation of the scriptures by Otfrid, 
 a monk of Weissembourg, who wrote about the 
 year 870, succeeding antiquaries have opposed to 
 this authority the superior antiquity of the Latin 
 specimens, some of which are to be referred to the 
 sixth century. This date is certainly anterior even 
 to any that can be assigned to the Runic ode.
 
 [ 36 3 
 
 called Elgill's Ransom, which has been translated 
 by Dr Percy in his specimens of Runic poetry, 
 and which affords, perhaps, the earliest example of 
 rhyme in any modern language. But, on the other 
 hand, it may be fairly argued, that, as our stock of 
 northern literature is very incomplete, we cannot 
 draw any positive conclusion from the deficiency 
 of specimens among the works of the Scalds ; 
 that rhyme, which certainly is not congenial to La- 
 tin verse, may have been a natural appendage to a 
 system of versification less strictly metrical ; and 
 that, as the date of its original introduction into 
 Latin can only be conjectured, it is not more ab- 
 surd to ascribe it to some northern proselyte, de- 
 sirous of bestowing on the learned language an or- 
 nament which he admired in his own, than to sup- 
 pose it was invented by the Italian monks, as a 
 succedaneum for that regular prosody, the harmo- 
 ny of which had been lost in the corrupt pronun- 
 ciation of the barbarous conquerors of Italy. 
 
 But, be this as it may, the Norman poets were 
 certainly our immediate masters : to them we owe 
 the forms of our verse ; and translations from them 
 were among the earliest compositions of the English 
 language ; so that some notice of them is necessary 
 to connect the* links of our literary history. 
 
 Indeed it has not been sufficiently considered,
 
 C 37 ] 
 
 that there was a period, and that of considerable 
 duration, during which the English language did 
 not exist, or at least was not, and could not be, 
 applicable to any literary purpose. The language 
 of the church was Latin ; that of the king and 
 nobles, Norman ; that of the people, Anglo-Saxon : 
 The Anglo-Norman jargon was only employed in 
 the commercial intercourse between the conquer- 
 ors and the conquered. It was likely to be composed 
 almost entirely of synonymous terms, which evi- 
 dently can only incumber, without enriching the 
 speech of any nation ; and that this was the case, 
 is proved by our existing language, in which the 
 names of the necessaries of life, as ox and beef, 
 sheep and mutton, flesh and meat, besides many 
 other words of frequent recurrence, had originally 
 an identical meaning. This state of things would 
 necessarily continue so long as the Norman and 
 Anglo-Saxon people were separated by mutual 
 hatred and prejudice ; and their languages could 
 only be amalgamated into one common and con- 
 sistent form of speech, when the conquerors and 
 the conquered became confounded in the same 
 mass, by intermarriages, and by a general unity of 
 interest. Hence, the Norman and Anglo-Saxon, 
 which for some time existed in England as distinct 
 and rival tongue?, have long since disappeared .;
 
 [ 38 ] 
 
 while, from a series of opposite causes, the Welsh 
 has continued to the present day ; and it is proba- 
 ble that, by a careful examination of our political 
 and legal history alone, we might be able to trace 
 the gradations of our language with tolerable ac- 
 curacy. In the mean time it is impossible not to 
 see that a great deal too much has been attributed 
 to the personal character of the Conqueror, and 
 that historians have ascribed to particular parts of 
 his policy effects directly opposite to those which 
 they were naturally calculated to produce. 
 
 We are told, for instance, that William hated 
 and determined to eradicate the language of this 
 island, and to introduce the Norman in its place ; 
 and this has been so often repeated, that Mr Tyr- 
 whit has thought it necessary to refute the asser- 
 tion by the authority of Ordericus Vitalis, a con- 
 temporary historian, who tells us, that William 
 had, in fact, taken great pains to acquire the An- 
 glo-Saxon. But surely, the absurdity of the charge 
 is its best refutation. William must have known, 
 that the Franks who conquered Gaul, and his own 
 ancestors who subdued Neustria, had not been 
 able to substitute the Teutonic for the Romance 
 language in their dominions ; that the measure was 
 not at all necessary to the establishment of their 
 power ; and that such an attempt is, in all cases,
 
 C 38 ] 
 
 no less impracticable than absurd, because the pa- 
 tient indocility of the multitude must ultimately 
 triumph over the caprice and tyranny of their 
 armed preceptors. But, having conquered a king- 
 dom, and wishing to retain his conquest, he intro- 
 duced a code of laws which placed his power on a 
 military basis ; and he introduced it in the language 
 in which it was originally compiled, and which was 
 familiar to that army to which he looked for his 
 security. By encouraging the study of French in 
 the schools, he gave his subjects the means of un- 
 derstanding the laws which he expected them to 
 obey. He did this, perhaps, tyrannically and harsh- 
 ly ; but it is not proved that he did it with the view 
 of making the Norman the universal language of 
 his subjects, or that he expected them, at their re- 
 turn from school, to talk French in their own fami- 
 lies : he might, with equal wisdom, have supposed 
 that they would converse habitually in Latin, which 
 they learned in the same schools. Even during the 
 reign of Edward the Confessor the Anglo-Saxon 
 had ceased to be cultivated; and after the con- 
 quest it was sure to become more and more bar- 
 barous, because it was the language of an oppress- 
 ed and enslaved people ; but it continued to exist. 
 Indeed, the obscurity of our earliest poets is well 
 known to arise from this source ; and tlie subse-
 
 C 40 ] 
 
 quent influx of French words, which gradually 
 formed the Anglo-Norman or English language, 
 was so far from being an effect of the tyrannical 
 policy of the Conqueror, that it was most rapid at 
 the very period when that policy was abandoned, 
 (that is to say, a little before the time of Minot, 
 Gower, and Chaucer,) and was the natural result 
 of the increasing intercourse between the Norman 
 nobles and their English vassals. 
 
 In the mean time, the English monarchs were 
 the most liberal, and, perhaps, the earliest patrons 
 of French poetry : indeed we are told by a correct 
 and diligent antiquary, M. de la Rue, Royal Pro- 
 fessor of History in the University of Caen, (See 
 Archaeologia, vol. XII. pages 50 and 297, for his 
 able dissertations on this subject,) that IT WAS 
 FROM ENGLAND AND NORMANDY THAT THE 
 FRENCH RECEIVED THE FIRST WORKS WHICH 
 DESERVE TO BE CITED IN THEIR LANGUAGE. 
 The historians of Provence have assigned to the 
 first specimens of their poetry a very high degree 
 of antiquity ; but La Combe, in his short account 
 of the French poets prefixed to the second volume 
 of his Dictionnaire du Vieux Langage, supposes the 
 earliest troubadours of eminence, WILLIAM COUNT 
 OF POITIERS, and RAYMOND COUNT OF THOU- 
 LOUSE, to have flourished in 1071 and 1092, so 
 1
 
 C 4i 3 
 
 that the only known poet confessedly anterior to 
 the reign of William the Conqueror, is TH i B AUT DE 
 VERNON, Canon of Rouen, who translated from 
 Latin into French verse the lives of Wandril and 
 some other Saints held in reverence by the Normans. 
 
 The next names with which .we become ac- 
 quainted, are those of the minstrel TAILLEFER, 
 who is said to have been the first person that broke 
 into the English ranks at the battle of Hastings ; 
 and of BERDIC, another French, minstrel attached 
 to the Conqueror, by whom he was rewarded with 
 the gift of three parishes in Gloucestershire. The 
 succeeding reign was principally distinguished by 
 numbers of serventois, or satirical songs, from 
 which it is not improbable that Robert of Glouces- 
 ter may have borrowed his sarcasms against Wil- 
 liam Rufus : but we do not possess any monuments 
 of the poetry of this early period, nor have the 
 names of the writers been transmitted to posterity. 
 
 The first Anglo-Norman poet mentioned by M. 
 de la Rue, is PHILLIPPE DE THAN. He composed, 
 for the use of the clergy, a didactic French poem, 
 under the title of " Liber de Crcaturis ;" it is a 
 treatise of practical chronology, full of erudition, 
 and dedicated to his uncle, Humphrey de Than, 
 Chaplain to Hugh Bigod, who became Seneschal 
 to Henry I. in the year 1107, soon after which
 
 [ 42 ] 
 
 the poem appears to have been written. His next 
 work is entitled Le Bestiare, dedicated to Adelaide 
 de Louvain, who was married to Henry I. in 1121, 
 so that the poem must have been written after 
 that time. It is a treatise on beasts, birds, and 
 precious stones, translated from a Latin essay 
 called Bestiarium, a manuscript copy of which still 
 remains in the library of Mr Douce, F. A. S. Both 
 these works are to be found in the British Mu- 
 seum. MSS. Cotton, Nero, A. v. " With respect 
 to the kind of poetry which Phillippe de Than has 
 used, (says M. de la Rue,) we believe it would be 
 difficult to find any authors who have adopted it. 
 His method does not consist in making one line 
 rhyme with another, but one half with the other 
 half, as, 
 
 " Al busuin est truved, 1'amie e epruved, 
 
 " Unches ne fud ami, quial busuign failli," &c. 
 
 But this mechanism of verse, which he borrowed 
 from the Latin versifiers of his time, and in which 
 he has had no imitators among the Frenph poets, 
 became very popular among the English. It is 
 adopted in the old metrical tale of King Horn, and 
 in many other works. Indeed, if we write the two 
 hemistichs as separate verses, we obtain that form 
 f verse of which Skelton was so fond, and which^ 
 3
 
 C 43 ] 
 
 from its frequent application to metrical romances, 
 was usually called the minstrel-metre. 
 
 SAMSON DE NANTEUIL translated the Proverbs 
 of Solomon into French verse, at the instance of 
 Adelaide de Conde, whom he calls his Lady. She 
 was wife of Osbert de Conde, and proprietor of 
 Horn-castle in Lincolnshire, which was forfeited to 
 the crown in the last year of Stephen's reign. The 
 composition of the poem was probably, by a few 
 years, anterior to this event. It is written in eight- 
 syllable verse, and is to be found in the British 
 Museum, MSS. Harl. No. 4-388. 
 
 GEOFFROI GAIMAR is known by a metrical His- 
 tory of the Anglo-Saxon Kings continued to the 
 reign of William Rufus. This however is appa- 
 rently only part of a larger work, comprehending 
 the whole history of Britain ; since the author de- 
 clares that he had begun his poem with the Argo- 
 nautic expedition, and had amended and corrected 
 the work of Geoffrey of Monmouth, by means of 
 two MSS. which he cites. It appears, from clear 
 internal evidence, that this work must have been 
 written as early as the year 114-6. It is in verses 
 of eight syllables, which possess uncommon facility 
 and elegance. The only known copy is intheBritish 
 Mus. Bibl. Reg. 13. A. xxi. in which it is placed 
 as a continuation of Wace's Brut d'Angleterre. 
 
 DAVID is mentioned by Gaimar as his contempo-
 
 t 44 ] 
 
 rary, and as a trouveur of considerable eminence ; 
 but his works are now lost. 
 
 The next poet in the order of time is the cele- 
 brated Maistre WACE : he was a native of Jersey, 
 born in the reign of Henry I. whom he professes 
 to have seen. He commenced his studies at Caen, 
 and returned thither after having completed his 
 education in France. The order of time in which 
 he composed his several works cannot be correctly 
 ascertained, but it is probable that the Brut d'An- 
 gleterre, which he finished in the year 1155, is the 
 earliest of those that have come down to us. It is 
 a French metrical version of the History of Bri- 
 tain from the tjme of the imaginary Brutus to the 
 reign of Cadwallader, A. D. 689, which Geoffrey 
 of Monmouth had previously translated into La- 
 tin prose from the British original, given him by 
 Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford. Layamon and 
 Robert de Brunne made use of Wace's work for 
 their English poetical versions ; and lastly, Rusti- 
 cien de Pise* translated it into French prose. There 
 are several copies of the Brute still remaining ; 
 three in the British Museum, viz. Bib. Reg. 13. A. 
 xxi. and MSS. Cott. Vitellius A. x. both of the 
 13th century; and MSS. Harl. No. 6508 of the 
 
 * Mr Ritson considers Robert de Borron, Lucas, Ritsticien 
 de Pise, and other pretended authors and translators whose 
 names appear in the old prose romances, as men of straw.
 
 [ 45 ] 
 
 14-th : a copy (likewise of the 14th century) in the 
 library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge ; and 
 a superb folio, supposed to be coeval with Wace, 
 in the Royal Library at Paris. 
 
 Although a French quotation may have an awk- 
 ward appearance in a treatise exclusively dedicated 
 to English poetry, I shall venture to lay before my 
 readers a specimen of Wace's Brut ; partly for the 
 purpose of interrupting the dry and uninteresting 
 catalogue of names of which the present chapter is 
 composed ; and partly because, this piece of ima- 
 ginary history having employed the pens of so many 
 successive writers, it may be entertaining to com- 
 pare their several styles in treating the same sub- 
 ject. The following extract is taken from Wace's 
 description of the ceremonies and sports at King 
 Arthur's coronation ; and the corresponding pas- 
 sages from Layamon, Robert of Gloucester, and 
 Geoffrey of Monmouth, will be given in the two 
 next chapters. 
 
 * Quand li service fut fine, 
 
 Et ITE MISSA EST clmntt/, 
 
 Li roi a sa corone ostOe 
 Qu'il avoit au mostier 1 portee, 
 Une corone menor * prist : 
 Et la reine ensemcnt J prist. 
 
 MS. Ifarl. 6508. 
 ' Monastery. z Minenre, smaller. 3 At the same time.
 
 [ 46 ] 
 
 Jus mistrent les greignors T ators, 
 Plus legiers pristrent, et menors. 
 Quand li roi torna del mostier, 
 A son palais ala manger. 
 La reine a une autre ala, 
 Et les dames o sei z mena. 
 Li roi mangea avec les homes, 
 Et la reine avec les dames, 
 O 3 grant deduist* et grant joye, 
 Come soloit estre a Troie : 
 Et Bretons encor la tenoent, 
 Quant ensemble feist 5 feisoent, 
 Li roi et les homes mangoent, 
 Que nule fame n' i menoent : 
 Les dames mangoent aillors, 
 N* i avoit que lor servitors. 
 
 Quant li roi fut au deis assiz, 
 A la costume del pai's, 
 Assiz sont les barons entor, 
 Chescun en 1'ordre de s'enor. 6 
 Li senescal KEI avoit nom, 
 Vestu d'un ermin pelli$on, 
 Servi a son mangier li roy, 
 Mil gentilzhomes avec soi, 
 
 1 Greater. They laid down their greater and heavier 
 garments. a O sei, avec soi, 3 With, 
 
 4 Pleasure. 5 Fete, feast. 6 Son honeur, his rank.
 
 C 47 ] 
 
 Qui tuiz ' furent vestus d' ermine, 
 Cil servirent a la quesine.* 
 Sovent aloent, et espez, 3 
 Esqueles 4 portant, et mes. 
 BEDUER, de 1'autre partie, 
 Servi de la boteillerie. 
 Ensemble o li mil danloisealz, 
 Vestuz d'ermine, genz et bealx, s 
 O copes et o pos 6 d'or fin, 
 Et o henasi porteint vin, 
 N'i avoit home qui servist 
 Qui d'ermine ne se vestit. 
 BEDUER (.levant euls aloit, 
 Que la cope li roi portoit, 
 Li damoiseals apres aloent, 
 Qui les barons de vin servoent. 
 La reine ost* ses servanz, 
 Ne vos sai dire quanz ne quanz ; 9 
 Richement et bel fut servie 
 Le (roi) et toute sa compagnie. 
 Mult veisez riche vesele, 
 Qui mult ert l riche et mult bele, 
 Et de manger riche servise, 
 Et de beivre ' ' en mainte guise, 
 
 1 Tons. * Cuisine. 3 Epais thickly crowded. 
 
 * Ecuelles. J Gentils et beaux. 6 Cups and pots. 
 7 Hanaps tankards. 8 Kut. 9 I cannot tell who, 
 nor how many. I0 trat was. u Boire.
 
 [ 48 ] 
 
 Ne puis nc ne sei nomcr, 
 Ne les richesses aconter. 
 Mult ost a la cort jugleors, 
 Chanteors, et rumenteors. * 
 Mult poissez oir chansons, 
 RotuengeSy* et voialx* sons, 
 Vileors, 4 lais, et notez, 
 Laiz de vieles, 5 laiz de rotez, 6 
 Laiz de harpez, laiz dejietealx,'' 
 Lires, 8 tempes, 9 et chalemealx, 
 Symphoniez, 10 psalterions, 11 
 Monacors, 1 * des cymbes,** chorons.* 4 
 Assez i ot tregetours,* 5 
 Joierresses, etjoieors; 16 
 
 * Rhymers ? * Songs played on the rote. This i^ 
 
 thought to have been the modern vielle, used by the Savoy- 
 ards in our streets. 
 
 3 Voialx sons, sous voyaux, probably mean vocal songs. 
 
 4 Vileors are probably players on the viele or violin. 
 
 5 Lays accompanied by the fiddle. 
 
 6 Lays accompanied by the rote or virile. 
 
 7 These seem to have been a sort of flute. 
 
 8 Probably some variety of the harp. 
 
 9 Drums. IO Another sort of drum. Vide Sir J. 
 Hawkins, Hist. Mus. vol. II. 284, 5. " Dulcimers. 
 
 11 The monochord. IS Cymbals. l4 A sort of trumpet. 
 
 15 Jugglers. See Tyrwhitt's note on v. 11453. Cant. Tales. 
 
 16 Probably the timbestcres or tumbtsteres mentioned by 
 Chaucer. See Tyrwbitt's Glossary : joieors are apparently 
 also jugglers.
 
 C 49 ] 
 
 Li uns disoent contes et fables ; 
 Auquant* demandoent dez et tables. 
 Tielx joient au hasart ; 
 C'estoit un gieu de male part. 
 As eschiez joient plusors, 
 Ou a la mine* au gieu majors ; 3 
 Dui et dui* au gieu s'escompaignent, 
 Li uns perdent, li autres gaignent, 
 Cil enjuent qui plus getent, 
 As autres client qu'ils y metent. 
 Sor gages emprestent denicrs, 
 Unze por douze volontiers, 
 Sovent jurent, sovent affichcnt, 
 Gages prenent, gages plenissent ; 
 Mult estrivent, mult se courrouccnt. 
 ****## 
 
 Telx i pucst soiez vcstu, 
 Qui au partir se lieve nu. 
 
 1 Aucnns, some. 
 
 2 ^ In the Cotton MS. Vitcll. A. x. the line stands thus, 
 A la mine u al greignor." Both readings seem to indicate 
 two games played with tables, and distinguished as the 
 greater and the less ; but whether they were species of back- 
 gammon or draughts is uncertain. 
 
 * Two and two. 
 
 * I have omitted the remainder of this passage, which I 
 thought rather tedious ; perhaps, because it is not easily in- 
 telligible. The transition from this subject to Arthur's pre- 
 sents is rather sudden. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 [ 50 U 
 
 Dona deduis,* dona belez,* 
 Dona livriers,* dona brochiers,* 
 Dona pelligon, dona henaps, 
 Dona peilez, dona anealx, 
 Dona bliaux, dona mantealx, ' 
 Dona lances, dona espges, 
 Dona suites barbeleez; s 
 Dona coivres, dona escuz, 
 Ars et espues bien esmoluz ; 
 Dona li dars, et dona ors, 
 Dona lorains etchaceors; 6 
 Dona hauberz, dona destriers* 
 Dona heaumes, dona deniers ; 
 Dona argent, et dona or, 
 Dona le mielx de son tresor. 
 N'i ost home qui rien vousist, 
 Qui d'autre terre a li venist, 
 Qui le roi li donast tel don, 
 Qui enor fust a tel baron. 
 De bons homes, et de richesse, 
 Et de plante, et de largesse, 
 Et de corteise, et d'enor, 
 Portoist Bretaigne lors la flor 
 
 1 Probably trinkets. * Weasel fur. 3 Liveries ? 
 
 * Clasps. 5 Barbed arrows. 
 
 6 Lorrains are reins ; but I do not understand which of 
 the accompaniments of hunting was called a chassoir.
 
 [ 51 ] 
 
 Sor tous les regnes d'environ, 
 Et sor tous ceulx que nos savon* , 
 Plus erent corteis et vaillanz, 
 N'eis li povres paisanz, 
 Que chevaliers en autre regnes : 
 Et autresi erent les fames. 
 Ja ne veissiez chevalier 
 Qui de rien feist a epriser, 
 Que armes, et dras, et ator, 
 N'en cut tout d'une color ; 
 D'unc color armes feisoent, 
 D'une color se vestissoent. 
 Si erent les dames prisiez, 
 D'une color appareilleez. 
 Ja nul chevalier n'i oust, 
 De que quel parage il fust, 
 Ja peust avoir druerie, 
 Ne corteise dame a amice, 
 Se il n'eust trois fois este 
 De chevalerie prove. 
 Li chevalers miclx en valoent, 
 Et en 1'estor miculx en fesoent, 
 Et les dames meillores estoent, 
 Et plus chastement en vivoent. 
 
 Quand li roi leva del manger, 
 Alez sunt tuit csbanoier, l 
 1 To amuse themselves.
 
 C 52 ] 
 
 De la cite es champs issirent ; 
 A plusors gieux se despartirent. 
 Li uns alerent botorder,* 
 Et les ineaux* chevalx monstrer : 
 Li autres alerent escrimir, 
 Ou pierres gctier, ou saillir.3 
 Tielx i avoit qui dars lancocnt, 
 Et tielx i avoit qui lutoent ; 
 Chascun del gieu s'entremestoit, 
 Qui entremetre se savoit. 
 Cil qui son compaignon vainqueit , 
 Et qui d'aucun gieu pris avoieit, 
 Etoit sempres mene au rei, 
 Et a tous les autres monstre ; 
 Et li roi del sien li donost, 
 Tant done cil Hez s'cn alost. 
 Les dames sor les murs aloent, 
 For esgarder ceulx qui joient. 
 Qui ami avoit en la place, 
 Tout li tornost 1'oil ou la face. 
 Trois jorz dura la feiste ainsi ; 
 Quand vint au quart, au mercredi, 
 Li roi ses bacheliers^ew^ 4 
 Evors deliverez devisa, * 
 Lor servise a celx rendi, 
 Qui por terre 1'orent servi : 
 
 ' To just. a Fleet (isnel) 3 To leap. 
 
 4 Fiejfa, gave fiefs, s I cannot explain this.
 
 [ 58 1 
 
 Bois dona, et chasteleriez, 
 
 Et evesquiez, et abbaiez. 
 
 A ceulx qui d'autres terres estoient, 
 
 Qui par amor au roi venoent, 
 
 Dona coupes, dona destriers, 
 
 Dona de ses avers plus chers. &c. 
 
 An account of this author's remaining works will 
 be found in the note below. * 
 
 BENOIT was contemporary with Wace. M. de 
 la Rue supposes him to be the Benoit de St More, 
 who wrote the History of the Wars of Troy, a 
 
 Wace's second work is a Hittory of the two Irruptions 
 of the Normans into Neustria and England. Like the Brut, 
 it is written in verses of eight syllables, with tbat facility 
 which distinguishes Wace from all his contemporaries : it 
 is compiled from the best chronicles, and evinces an extra- 
 ordinary knowledge of general history. This work is only 
 to be found in France, where there are two ancient copies, 
 one in the ftoyal, and the other in the Colbertine Library ; 
 and a modern copy by M. Lancelot, with the variations 
 added in the margin, is also in the Royal Library. 
 
 The third poem of Wace is the famous .Roman du Rou, 
 that is to say, of Kaoul, or Hollo, first Uuke of fn ormandy. 
 It was written, as Wace himself declares, in 1 160, and is 
 composed in Alexandrine verse of twelve syllables. It is 
 annexed to the A1SS. just mentioned, as are also his fourth 
 woik, which is the Life of William Long-itaord , son of
 
 C 54 ] 
 
 French poem of about twenty thousand verses, 
 imitated from the apocryphal Latin histories of 
 Dares Phrygius and Dictys Cretensis. This work 
 is preserved among the MSS. Harl. No* 4482, and 
 
 Hollo, and the fifth, or Romance of Richard, son of Wil- 
 liam Long-sword ; both in the same Alexandrine metre. 
 
 Wace's sixth work is a poem of considerable length, 
 containing near twelve thousand verses, and gives the re- 
 maining History of the Dukes of Normandy, which it carries 
 down to the sixth year of Henry I. It mentions the coro- 
 nation of Henry the Second's eldest son, who was associated 
 to the crown in the year 1170, soon after which the poem 
 may be supposed to have been written. It is in eight- 
 syllable metre, and was mistaken by Mr Tyrwhitt for the 
 Roman du Rou. A copy of it is in the British Museum,. 
 Bib. Reg. 4. C. xi. 
 
 The seventh work is a Compendium of the History of the 
 Dukes of Normandy, beginning with Henry II. and ascend- 
 ing to Rollo. It is in Alexandrine verse, and preserved in 
 the Royal Library at Paris. 
 
 The eighth is a History of the Origin of the Feast of the 
 Conception, which is supposed to have been established by 
 William the Conqueror, and was kept in Normandy with 
 such magnificence, that it was usually called in France the 
 Feast of the Normans, It is to be found in the Royal Li- 
 brary at Paris. 
 
 The ninth is a Life of St Nicholas, written, like the pre- 
 ceding, in eight-syllable verse. It is to be found in the li- 
 brary of Trinity Coll. Cambridge, and in the Bodleian ; and 
 a third MS. is in the possession o flVlr Douce, F. A. S. Part?
 
 C 55 ] 
 
 is supposed by M. Galland to have been written, 
 very soon after Wace's Brut d'Angleterre. It was, 
 perhaps, the success of this poem that induced 
 Henry II. to confide to Benoit the task of wri- 
 ting in French verse the history of the dukes of 
 Normandy : and this royal mandate exciting the 
 emulation of Wace (by whom the circumstance is 
 mentioned) induced that poet to complete his own 
 series of compositions on the same subject, in the 
 hope of proving the inferiority of his rival's talent. 
 Benoit, however, persevered, and accomplished his 
 task to the entire satisfaction of the monarch. 
 This work, containing about twenty-three thousand 
 verses of eight syllables, is preserved in the British 
 
 of this poem are extracted by Ilickes. Vide Thesaurus, 
 p. 145, 149, &c. 
 
 The tenth is the Roman du Chevalier au Lion. Fauchet 
 and others ascribe this to Chrestien de Troyes, who (says 
 M. de la Rue) perhaps converted it into prose, as he did 
 the Romance of Perceval le Galois. It is to be observed, 
 however, that Faucbet's quotations from the Romance of 
 ihe Chevalier au Lion are in vtrte. Vide Fauchet, L. II. 
 e. 10. ad finem. 
 
 Lastly, it seems not improbable that Wace may have 
 composed some parts of the Romance of Alexander ; and 
 Mr Tyrwhilt suspects that he is the Robert Giutsco who 
 translated the Martyrdom of Si George. The number and 
 excellence of Wace's compositions induced Henry II. to 
 bestow on him a canonry in (he Cathedral of Bayeax.
 
 C 56 ] 
 
 Museum, MSS. Harl. No. 1717. Though inferior 
 to Wace in perspicuity and elegance, Benoit is 
 much commended by M. de la Rue for the accuracy 
 of his facts, and for the various and lively pictures 
 of contemporary manners which he has preserved, 
 and which are not to be found in any other author. 
 In descriptive poetry he seems to have possessed 
 considerable merit ; and, supposing him the author 
 of the Song on the advantages of the Crusade, which 
 M. de la Rue, with great probability, ascribes to 
 him, he is to be considered as the father of French 
 lyric poetry, so that the high reputation he enjoy- 
 ed appears to have been well deserved. 
 
 GUEBNES, an ecclesiastic of Pont St Maxence, 
 in Picardy, wrote a metrical Life of Thomas a 
 Becket ; and, from his anxiety to procure the most 
 authentic information on the subject, came over to 
 Canterbury in 1172. He states that, having begun 
 his work in France, he had been inaccurate in 
 many of his facts, but that, by conversing with per- 
 sons who had known St Thomas in private life, he 
 had been enabled to correct many of his mistakes, 
 and to make a considerable progress in his poem, 
 when his secretary robbed him of his manuscript : 
 that this principally afflicted him from the fear 
 that his name might be employed to cover untruths, 
 and that purchasers might be deluded into buying
 
 C 57 3 
 
 an imperfect work : but that, far from being dis- 
 couraged by this unlucky robbery, he had redoubled 
 his zeal for collecting materials, and had finally 
 perfected his work in 1 177. He farther assures us, 
 that he had more than once publicly read his 
 poem at the tomb of the Archbishop ; a proof 
 (says M. de la Rue) that the Romance tongue was, 
 at this time, very generally understood in England. 
 Perhaps, however, there never was a period when 
 the town of Canterbury would not have furnished 
 a sufficient audience fer such an exhibition. This 
 work of Guernes is written in stanzas of five Alex- 
 andrines, all ending with the same rhyme ; a mode 
 of composition which may possibly have been 
 adopted for the purpose of being easily chanted. 
 It is in the British Mus. MSS. Harl. No. 270 ; and 
 M. de la Rue suspects that the stolen copy exists 
 in the MSS. Cotton. Domit. A. xi. 
 
 Such is the short and meagre abstract of the in- 
 formation which M. de la Rue has communicated 
 to the public in his two very curious dissertations. 
 He is since returned to France, after pledging 
 himself to resume and continue the subject, and it 
 certainly is to be wished that he may be enabled 
 to accomplish a task for which he is so well qua- 
 lified. But it is not sufficient that the mines of 
 literature contained in our public libraries should
 
 E 58 ] 
 
 be distinctly pointed out, unless some steps are 
 taken to render them generally useful. All the 
 information that can be obtained from the professed 
 historians of the middle ages has been collected 
 by the successive labour or our antiquaries, whose 
 activity, acuteness, and perseverance, do them the 
 highest honour : and their ingenuity has often been 
 successful in detecting, and extorting by compara- 
 tive criticism, many particulars respecting the state 
 of society, and the progress of arts and manners, 
 th^ direct communication of which would have 
 been considered by the monkish annalists as degra- 
 ding to the dignity of their narrative. But these 
 details, which are neglected by the historian, form 
 the principal materials of the poet. His business 
 is minute and particular description ; he must seize 
 on every thing that passes before his eyes ; and the 
 dress, the customs, the occupations, the amuse- 
 ments, as well as the arts and learning of the day, 
 are necessary, either to the embellishment or the 
 illustration of his subject. An edition of the works 
 of the Norman poets, or at least of a copious and 
 well-selected series of extracts from them, would 
 be a most valuable present to the public ; and, 
 indeed, it is only in this shape that they can be 
 very generally useful : because the difficulty of the 
 old manuscript characters is a permanent tax on
 
 C 59 ] 
 
 the ingenuity of each successive student ; it is in 
 every case a delay to the gratification of his curi- 
 osity ; and the talent of decyphering obsolete cha- 
 racters is not necessarily attached to the power of 
 profiting by the information which is concealed 
 under them. Besides, a scarce and valuable ma- 
 nuscript cannot possibly be put into general cir. 
 culation ; and many learned men are necessarily 
 debarred, either by distance, or by infirmity, or 
 by the pressure and variety of their occupations, 
 from spending much time in those public reposi- 
 tories of learning, to which the access has indeed 
 been rendered easy, but could not be made con- 
 venient, by the liberality of their founders.
 
 I 60 3 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 State of our Language and Poetry in the Reign 
 of Henry II. and Richard I. exemplified by 
 an Extract from Layamon's Translation of 
 Wace. Conjectures concerning the Period 
 at which the Anglo-Norman or English 
 Language began to be formed. Early Spe- 
 cimen of English Poetry from Hickes's 
 Thesaurus. 
 
 WHILE Norman literature was making a rapid 
 progress in this country under the fostering influ- 
 ence of royal patronage, and the Latin composi- 
 tions of John of Salisbury, Peter of Blois, Joseph 
 of Exeter, and others, bore testimony to the no less 
 powerful encouragement of the church, the Saxon 
 language, however degraded, still continued to 
 maintain its ground, was generally spoken, and 
 even employed in works of information and amuse- 
 ment, for at least a century after the Norman con- 
 quest. This is incontestably proved, not only by 
 part of the Saxon Chronicle, which, as it relates the 
 deathof King Stephen, must havebeen written after 
 
 3
 
 [ 61 ] 
 
 that event, but by a much more curious composition, 
 a poetical translation of Wace's Brut, written by one 
 LAYAMON, " a priest of Emleye upon Severn," 
 (as he calls himself,) a copy of which is preserved 
 in the British Museum, M SS. Cot. Calig. A. ix. 
 
 As this very curious work never was, and proba- 
 bly never will be printed, it appeared necessary to 
 depart, in this instance, from the practice usually 
 adopted in the present sketch, and to give the fol- 
 lowing extract in the spelling of the original MS. 
 This minute accuracy was requisite for the satis- 
 faction of such readers as may choose to collate the 
 transcript with the original, and for the purpose of 
 enabling every reader to correct such mistakes as 
 may have been committed in the glossarial notes. 
 Perhaps, too, it may not be amiss to exhibit a single 
 specimen of the strange orthography adopted in our 
 early MSS. as a proof that the degree of obscurity 
 attributed to this cause has not been over-rated. 
 
 Tha ' the masse ives isungen, * 
 Ofchirccken heo thrungen. 3 
 The king mid his folke 
 To his mete verde, 4 
 
 1 When. * Was song. 
 
 3 Out of church (kirk) they thrnngrd. 
 * Went,/rerf.
 
 [ 62 ] 
 
 And mucle his du^ethe f * 
 Drem tues on hirede, * 
 Tha quene, an other halve, 3 
 Hire herebenoe isohte ; 4 
 Heo s hafde of tvif-monne 6 
 Wunder ane moni enS 
 
 Tha the king wes iseten 
 Mid his monnen to his mete, 
 To titan 8 kinge com tha biscop, 
 Seind DUBRIJ, the taas siua god, 
 And nom I0 of his hqfde " 
 His kinC'helm hahne, 1 * 
 
 * Many of bis nobility, Sax. 
 
 * Joy was in the household ? drem, dream, jubilatu>. 
 Hirede, Sax. a retinue, household, &c. nearly equivalent to 
 the French word, me&nie. 
 
 3 On the other half, side. 
 
 * Her lodging (harbour) sought. 
 
 5 She, sometimes they, sometimes you. 
 
 6 Women. 
 
 7 Wonder a many one; i. e. she had wonderfully many 
 women with her. 
 
 8 The accustive of the, Sax. 
 
 9 Saint Dubric, that was so good. 
 
 10 Took, Shakspeare's Nim. 
 
 11 Off his head. 
 
 14 His high ? royal? king-helm, t, e. crown.
 
 [ 63 ] 
 
 ( For than mucle golde 
 The king hine beren nalde y J ) 
 And dude enne lasse crune 
 On thas kinges hafde ; * 
 And seoth-then 3 he gon do 
 Athere quenc alsivo. " : ?'. 
 
 Inne Troie this toes la&e s 
 Bi heore celderne dage 6 
 Tha Bruttes of come." 1 
 The tveoren ivel idone 
 Alle tha wepmen 
 At heore mete seten 
 Sundi bi heom seolven ; 8 
 That heom thuhte widen,* 
 And alswa tha wiftnen 
 Heore iitntne I0 hafden. 
 
 1 The king him bear ne would, i. e. did not choose to 
 carry so much gold on his head. 
 * And did (i. c. placed) a less crown on the king's head. 
 
 3 Sitb-thcn, afterwards. 
 
 4 He did the same to the queen. 
 
 5 Was the laic or custom. 
 
 6 From their elder day*. 
 
 7 When Britons came from thence ? 
 
 8 All the women that were well done (well educated) at 
 their meat sate atundtr by themselves. 
 
 9 That they thought well done. 
 
 10 Habitation. To von, Johnson. 
 
 fi
 
 t 6* 3 
 
 Tha the king wes isete 
 Mid alle his dujeth to his mete, 
 Eorles and beornes, 
 At horde thas kinges, 
 The stiward com steppen, 
 The KAY wes ihaten, 
 Haxt cnhit on londe, 
 Under than kinge, 
 Of all than hcepe T 
 Of Arthures hirede. 
 KAY hehte him bivoren 
 Moni heah mon iboren. 1 
 Ther weoren a thusen cnhite bald, 
 Wunder tioel italde, 
 That theineden than kingen, 
 And his here thringen. 3 
 JEAc cnhit hafde pal on, * 
 And mid golde bigon ; 
 
 1 Heap, number, i. e. when the king was seated with all 
 bis nobility at his meat, earls and barons at the king's table, 
 the steward came stepping, that Kay was called, the highest 
 knight in the land, under the king, of all the number of 
 Arthur's household. 
 
 a Kay summoned before him many high men born, i. e. 
 high-born men. 
 
 3 There were a thousand bold knights, wonder well num- 
 bered, that served the king, and thronged as his servants ? 
 
 * Each knight had a pall on, (i. e. mantle,) and bordered 
 with gold.
 
 t 65 3 
 
 And alle heore vingeres 
 I riven x mid gold ringes, 
 Thas beorn ilia sunde * 
 From kuchene * to than kinge. 
 
 An other half was BEDUER, 
 Thas kinges hcege birle.* 
 Mid him weoren eorlene sunen, 
 Of athele s cunne iboren ; 
 And there hehje cnihtene sunen, 
 Tha thider weoren icunen ; 6 
 Seoven kingene sunen, 
 That mid him quehten. * 
 BEDUER avormest code, 8 
 Mid guldene bolle : 
 After him a thusend 
 Threaten 9 to hirede ; 
 
 1 Their fingers /artened with gold rings.' 
 
 * That bore sundry things ? or, what was sent? 
 
 3 Kitchen. The word seems to have been pronounced 
 cookeene. 
 
 * On another part was B*dwer, the king's Mgh-butltf 
 (birlian, haurire, Sax.) 
 
 5 Of noble kin born. 
 
 6 Probably for tcunwn " that thither were come," 
 
 7 Marched, cieeten, Sax. 
 
 * Aforemoit yode, went first, with a gold bowl. 
 9 Thrust, or pressed forward, to serve. 
 
 voi,. I. r.
 
 C 66 ] 
 
 And atte thas cunnes 1 drenche, 
 Them cathe on bithenche. 
 And the quene, an hire end, 
 Wifmen stvide hende ;* 
 A thusend hire code bivoren, 
 Riche men and wel icoren, 
 To thainen there quene 
 And than that mid hire weoren. 
 
 Nes he ncevere iboren, s 
 Of nane cnihte icoren, 
 Ilacred, no tewed, 
 Anauere n'are leode, 
 Tha cuthe him itelle 
 An oeies cunnes spells 
 
 1 All hind* of drink that they could think of? or, they 
 can drink all that they could think of? 
 
 1 Very beautiful, handsome ; the construction seems to 
 be " And the queen on her part [was with] very beau- 
 " tiful women. A thousand men, rich and well chosen, 
 " (coren, Sax.) went before, to serve the queen, and those 
 " that were with her." 
 
 3 " Ne was he never born of none chosen knight, learned 
 " nor lewd (ignorant,) nor any where was there a people 
 " that could tell, in any kind of spell (language), of half 
 " the rich-dom (riches) that was in Caerlion." The second 
 verse seems to have been introduced solely for the sake of 
 the rhyme.
 
 [ 67 ] 
 
 Of halve than richedome 
 The wes inne KAIRLIUNE ; 
 Of seolvere and of golde, 
 And gode iiveden* 
 Of hehje iborene monnen 
 Tha inne hirede wuneden,* 
 Of horsen, and of hqfucken,'- 
 Of hunden to deoren, 
 And of riche iweden, 
 Tha athan hirede weoren. 
 
 And ofalle thanfolke 4 
 The wuneden ther onfolde 
 Wes thisses londes folk 
 Leodene hendest itald. 
 And alswa tha wimmen, 
 Wunliclie on heowen, 
 
 1 Good weeds, i. e, rich dresses. 
 
 a " Of high-born men that dwelt in the king's household." 
 The word hirede, Sax. has three interpretations; a house- 
 hold service and a palace. 
 
 3 " Hawks, Sax. The next article is deer hounds, 
 
 * " And of all the folk that dwelt on fold (i. e, on earth) 
 " was this land's folk the handsomest (or noble) people told. 
 " And also the women handsome (mntome, vanlich) of hut 4 , 
 " and highest shrowded (most richly dressed) and best In- 
 " ilructcd. (/fojene, perituf, Sax.) tavghtcn, Lat. decent.
 
 [ 68 3 
 
 And hahlukest iscrudde, 
 And alre best itogene. 
 
 For heo hafdenon iguethen atte* 
 By heore quike live 
 That heo wolden of ane heowen 
 Heore clathes hafben. 
 Sum hafde whit, sum hafden 
 Sum hafde god grene aec, 
 And alches cunnes^/aA-clath ; 
 Heom wes wunder uncial fi ; 
 And elche untutle 
 Heo talden nrvworiheS 
 
 1 " For they bad declared (iquethcn, Sax.) all, by their 
 ' lives (quike leve, living lives), that they would of one hue 
 * their [intire] dress have. Some had white, some had red, 
 ' some had good green also, and each kind of variable cloth, 
 ' fah-dath, Sax.) They were wonderfully uniform (anelich, 
 1 Sax.)" It seems, from this passage, that Layamon thought 
 it indecent to wear the different parts of dress of different 
 colours. Wace, indeed, seems to express the same opinion. 
 * The word untutle in this passage, and tuhtle, which oc- 
 curs hereafter, may possibly de derived from tucht, tught, 
 or tuckt, which, in several Gothic dialects, signifies disci- 
 pline, education, and sometimescAasltfy, &c See Ihres'sGloss. 
 in voce Tuckt. The passage seems to mean, that the women- 
 were severe in their manners, and " told (i. e held) as un- 
 " worthy those who were irregular in their conduct or 
 '* dress."
 
 t 69 ] 
 
 Tha hafde cenglene ard* 
 
 That alrebezte here word, 
 
 And this Icodisce vole sec 
 
 Leo/vest than kinge. 
 
 Tha wifmen hehge iborene* 
 
 Tha wunedcn athissen londe 
 
 Hafden iguethen alle 
 
 On heore guides sothe 
 
 That man lauerd taken nolde 
 
 Inne thissere leode 
 
 Naever nacnne chnit, 
 
 (Neore he noht swa well idiht) 
 
 Bute he icostned weoren 
 
 Thrie inne compe, 
 
 And his oht scipen icudde^ 
 
 And ifonded* hine seolve. 
 
 1 If this mean English earth, it is certainly a violent ana- 
 chronism ; and yet it seems to mean, " Then had the Eng- 
 " lish earth all that was best worth, and the very commonest 
 " people (teoditcc vole) also thought themselves of more 
 " value than king*" 
 
 " The women high-born, that dwelt in this land, had 
 " declared all, on their word's truth, that [any] man for 
 " their lord take they ne would among this people, never 
 " none knight (ne were he nought so well idight) unless 
 ' (but) he proved (icostned) were thrice in camp." 
 
 3 And his fear escape could. 
 
 4 And he tried himself.
 
 E 70 ] 
 
 Baldeliche he mitte thenne j 
 Nen him brude. 1 
 For ther ilke tuhtle 
 Cnihtes weoren ohte ; * 
 Tha wifmen wel idonc, 
 And tha better biuiitene. 3 
 Tha tveoren i brutene 
 Blissen ino&e.* 
 
 Tha the king igeten s hafde 
 And al his mon-tueorede, 6 
 Tha bugan 1 out of burhje 
 Theines swithen balde. 
 Alle tha kinges, 
 And heore here-thringes.* 
 Alle tha biscopes, 
 And alle tha clarckes, 
 
 1 Boldly he might then go, none him upbraided? 
 a For there all the knights were disciplined by the fear 
 of disgrace? (ohtt. Sax. timor.) 
 
 3 The women acted well, and were more prudent. 
 
 4 Then were the Britons blessed enough ? 
 
 5 Eaten. 
 
 . 6 Multitude of attendants, Sax. 
 
 'Fled. Then fled out of thetown the people very quickly. 
 
 8 Their throngs of servants.
 
 [ 71 ] 
 
 Alle the eorles, 
 And alle tha beornes, 
 Alle tha theines, 
 Alle the sweines, 
 Feire iscrudde x 
 Helde geondjelde. * 
 Summe heo gunnen 3 ceruen, 4 
 Summe heo gunnen urnen, s 
 Summe heo gunnen lepen, 
 Summe heo gunnen sceoten, 6 
 Summe heo wraestleden 
 And neither-game makeden, 7 
 Summe heo on velde 
 Pleouiveden under scelde, 8 
 Summe heo driven balles 
 Wide %eond the feldes. 
 
 1 Fairly dressed. 
 
 1 Held [their way] over the fields ; or, perhaps, covered 
 the fields (Ac/an, Sax.) jrourf is beyond. 
 3 Began. 
 * To discharge arrows. 
 
 5 To run. 
 
 6 To shoot or throw darts. 
 
 7 Made, or played at, mther-gamcs, Sax. (games of emu- 
 lation), i. e. justed. 
 
 8 Some they oo field played under shield ; t. e. fought 
 with swords.
 
 [ 72 ] 
 
 Moni ane kunnes gomeu 
 Ther heo gunnen drinen. * 
 And wha swa mihte iwenne 
 Wurthscipe of his gomene, * 
 Hine me 3 laddc mide songe 
 At foren than leod kinge; 
 And the king, for his gomene, 
 jaf him jevew 4 gode. 
 Alle tha quene * 
 The i cum en weoren there, 
 And alle tha lafdics, 
 Leoneden geond walles, 
 To bihalden tha duge then, 
 And that folc plant-. 
 This ilceste threo dce^es, 6 
 Swulc gomes and simile pleeghs, 
 Tha, atahan veorthe dale 
 
 1 '^Many a kind of game there they gan urge." Dringen, 
 (Dutch) is to urge, press, or drive. 
 
 5 And whoso might win worship by his gaming. 
 
 3 " Him they led with song before the people's king." 
 Me, a word synonymous with the French on, introduced, 
 perhaps, by the Danes or Normans. 
 
 4 Gave him givings, gifts. 
 
 * " All the queens wha were come to the festival, and all 
 " the ladies, leaned over the walls to behold the nobles there, 
 " and that folk play." 
 
 6 This lasted three days, such games and such plays.
 
 [ 73 ] 
 
 The king gon to spekeiie " 
 And a jaf his gode cnihtcn 
 All hcorere rihten ; * 
 He jef seolver, he jaef gold, 
 He jef hors, he jef lond, 
 Castles, and clashes eke ; 
 His monnen he iquende.* 
 
 The reader is certainly aware that a large pro- 
 portion of the French words which have found 
 their way into our language were introduced 
 through the medium of translations from Norman 
 literature ; and it is evident that such terms are 
 particularly to be expected in descriptions of dress, 
 of feasts, and of amusements ; it is therefore pre- 
 sumed that the foregoing extract, both on account 
 of its subject and its length, may be received as a 
 tolerably fair specimen of Layamon's phraseology. 
 And as it does not contain any word which we are 
 under the necessity of referring to a French origin, 
 we cannot but consider it as simple and unmixed, 
 though very barbarous Saxon. At the same time, 
 the orthography of this MS., in which we see, for 
 the first time, the admission of the soft g together 
 
 1 Then, on the fourth day, the king went to council? 
 * And gave his good knights all their rights or rewards. 
 3 Uf satiified. 
 
 3
 
 C 74- ] 
 
 with the Saxon 5, as well as some other peculiari- 
 ties, seems to prove that the pronunciation of our 
 language had already undergone a considerable 
 change. Indeed, the whole style of this composi- 
 tion, which is broken into a series of short, uncon- 
 nected sentences, and in which the construction is 
 as plain and artless as possible, and perfectly free 
 from inversions, appears to indicate that little more 
 than the substitution of a few French for the pre- 
 sent Saxon words was now necessary to produce 
 an exact resemblance with that Anglo-Norman, or 
 English, of which we possess a few specimens sup- 
 posed to have been written in the early part of the 
 thirteenth century. 
 
 Layamon's versification also is no less remark- 
 able than his language. Sometimes he seems anxious 
 to imitate the rhymes, and to adopt the regular 
 number of syllables which he had observed in his 
 original ; at other times he disregards both ; either 
 because he did not consider the laws of metre, or 
 the consonance of final sounds, as essential to the 
 gratification of his readers, or because he was un- 
 able to adopt them throughout so long a work, 
 from the want of models in his native language on 
 which to form his style. The latter is, perhaps, 
 the most probaBtBjiftipposition ; but, at all events, it 
 is apparent that the recurrence of his rhymes is
 
 [ 75 ] 
 
 much too frequent to be the result of chance ; so 
 that, upon the whole, it seems reasonable to infer 
 that Layamon's work was composed at or very near 
 the period when the Saxons and Normans in this 
 country began to unite into one nation, and to 
 adopt a common language. As this is a most cu- 
 rious epocha in our literary as well as political his- 
 tory, it is worth while to inquire how far it is ca- 
 pable of being ascertained, if not with precision, 
 at least within some definite limits. 
 
 Geoffrey of Monmouth's history was written in 
 or about 1138; and we know from Wace's con- 
 cluding words that his translation was not finished 
 till 1155. This appears, at first sight, to be rather 
 a long interval ; because a work containing the 
 whole early history of Britain, supposed to be com- 
 piled from authentic materials, written in Latin, 
 and consequently addressed to all the learned men 
 of the age, could not fail to excite very general 
 curiosity. But before the invention of printing, 
 when books could only be multiplied by transcrip- 
 tion, it must be expected that a considerable time 
 would elapse before a long work would become so 
 popular as to require a translation, or fall in the 
 way of those who had leisure and ability for such 
 a task. If we assume a period- of about 25 years 
 for the completion of Layamon's version, we shall
 
 76 ] 
 
 fix it at 1180 ; and this is, perhaps, the earliest date 
 that can be assigned to it, because Wace's Brut 
 was longer than Geoffrey's history, and was likely 
 to be less rapidly diffused among the learned ; be- 
 sides which, being written in rhyme, its imitation 
 was accompanied with greater difficulty. 
 
 It is apparently impossible to establish, with any 
 degree of certainty, a chronological series of those 
 English poems which we still possess in manuscript, 
 or to determine the year in which that series ought 
 to commence ; but if any conclusion can be drawn 
 from internal evidence, arising from a comparison 
 of the many pieces ascribed to the middle of the 
 thirteenth century, it may be presumed, from the 
 facility of rhyming evinced in many of them, and 
 even in the very dull history of Robert of Gloucester, 
 which contains more than thirteen thousand rhymes, 
 that much poetry had been written before this pe- 
 riod, and some probably as early as the accession 
 of Henry III. in 1216. Perhaps, therefore, we 
 may fairly infer, that the Saxon language and lite- 
 rature began to be mixed with the Norman about 
 1180; and that in 1216 the change may be consi- 
 dered as complete. 
 
 If, instead of assuming these data for our con- 
 jecture, we should choose to establish it on such 
 documents as can be easily drawn from our political
 
 [ 77 ] 
 
 history, we shall arrive at nearly the same conclu- 
 sion. This will appear from the following consi- 
 derations. 
 
 It must be remembered that, for many years af- 
 ter the Conquest, the English could not be brought 
 to a quiet acquiescence in William's usurpation ; 
 that the number of his troops bore a very small 
 proportion to the whole population of the island ; 
 and consequently that they could not have been 
 safely scattered over the country, but were, of ne- 
 cessity, collected into garrisons, so as to form at all 
 times the elements of an army, which it was the 
 object of the feudal system to connect and perpe- 
 tuate. There were therefore two classes of per- 
 sons, whose respective languages could not be im- 
 mediately affected by the Conquest ; these were 
 the Norman nobles and the Saxon peasants. The 
 first, immured in fortified castles with their fami- 
 lies; anxiously preserving their original connec- 
 tion with France, inhere many of them possessed 
 estates ; associating only with their own country- 
 men at the state festivals, when they repaired to 
 the court of their sovereign ; and too haughty to 
 converse with their vassals, retained the exclusive 
 use of the French language to a much later period 
 than that with which we are at present occupied. 
 The second, or uplandith men, as they are fre-
 
 C 78 1 
 
 quently called, (the cities being usually situated in 
 plains, ) having little intercourse with their foreign 
 masters, continued for ages to preserve the Saxon 
 speech with very little adulteration, and in many 
 provinces, retain it to the present day. 
 
 It is therefore in the towns only that we can ex- 
 pect to find a mixture of speech, resulting from a 
 mixture of inhabitants ; and to their history must 
 we look for the evidence of its operation. But in 
 the first instance, the Norman garrisons, and such 
 colonies of their countrymen as may have been set- 
 tled under their protection, were effectually sepa- 
 rated from the native inhabitants, by contempt on 
 one side, by fear on the other, and on both by op- 
 position of interests. The two nations formed se- 
 parate and hostile societies : they were in a state 
 of juxta-position, but without intercourse. Even 
 their commercial relations were very trifling, the 
 internal as well as external trade of the country be- 
 ing principally carried on by Jews. 
 
 This mutual hatred was encouraged by the par- 
 tialities, and still more by the policy, of William 
 and his immediate successors. All the towns in the 
 kingdom were attached as demesnes either to the 
 crown or to its tenants in capite ; their inhabitants 
 were subjected to all the feudal services, and, be- 
 ing arbitrarily governed by a regal or baronial of-
 
 t V9 3 
 
 ficer, were exposed to every exaction of partial 
 and capricious tyranny. Anderson, in his History 
 of Commerce, gives us a curious instance of the 
 general poverty resulting from this system. " We 
 " find in the first volume of Rymer'sFcedera" (p. 80.) 
 says he, " a letter from that king, dated [119i)] at 
 " Haguenau in Germany, where the Imperial Diet 
 " was then assembled, to his mother queen Elinor, 
 " and to the judges of England, earnestly pressing 
 " them to raise the money for his ransom to the said 
 " sordid Emperor, being 70,000 marks of silver, and 
 " urging that/or this end all the money of the churches 
 ** may be borrowed, as also of the barons. HERE is 
 
 " NOT THE LEAST MENTION OF THE MONEY OF 
 
 " MERCHANTS OR CITIZENS, which shews the poor 
 " state of England at this time, in point of com- 
 " merce or wealth." He had, however, previously 
 noticed a most material and beneficial change which 
 took place a few years before in the political situa- 
 tion of the citizens and burghers; a change, indeed, 
 so important, that Madox, in his History of the 
 Exchequer, (chap, x.) considers it as the adoption 
 of an entirely new system, and as the foundation of 
 all their future prosperity. This was the grant of 
 various immunities by charter, and the formation 
 of corporate bodies in certain towns and cities ; the 
 earliest of which is assigned to the 26th year of
 
 C so ] 
 
 Henry II. 1 180, when such charters were gran ted to 
 the city of London, and the town of Southampton. 
 
 The object of Henry's policy in this measure 
 was, by encouraging the growth of the towns, to 
 erect a barrier against the encroachments of the 
 aristocracy; and this policy, in which he persevered 
 during the remainder of his reign, was also adopted 
 by his sons. Several proofs of it are recorded by 
 Anderson, even in the short and busy reign of Rich- 
 ard I., and they are much more numerous in that 
 of his successor. " Notwithstanding all the faults 
 " too justly (it is to be feared) charged on King 
 " John," says this historian, " we find him, in 
 " this very first year of his reign ( 1 199,) beginning 
 " the good purpose as a king, which he farther in- 
 " creased in the course of his reign : this was the 
 " erecting of his demesne towns into free burghs ; 
 " which thereby paved the way for the gradual in- 
 " troduction of commerce into his kingdom," The 
 barons, on the other hand, with no less policy, 
 declared themselves the champions of all the pri- 
 vileges obtained or claimed by the cities, who thus 
 derived a double advantage from the contest for 
 popularity between the king and the aristocracy. 
 
 It is not our present business to pursue the 
 gradual effects of these measures in disseminating 
 liberty and prosperity, but it seems probable that
 
 [ 81 ] 
 
 their operation on our language must have been 
 immediate and extensive. The Norman and Saxon 
 inhabitants of England were now permanently uni- 
 ted by the bonds of common interest ; and the 
 establishment of a popular form of municipal go- 
 vernment, under an annually elective magistracy, 
 by encouraging the spirit and furnishing the topics 
 of daily discussion, could not fail of giving currency 
 to new forms of speech, and of forming a language 
 adapted to their new situation. 
 
 It is evident that nothing less than the most 
 minute inquiry into all the circumstances of our 
 history under the first Norman kings would be suf- 
 ficient for the full investigation of this subject; but 
 the preceding observations will perhaps authorize 
 us to assume, that the formation of the English lan- 
 guage took its rise, and was probably far advanced, 
 during the interval of not quite forty years which 
 preceded the accession of Henry III. 
 
 After quitting Layamon, we shall waste little time 
 n the compositions of his immediate successors. 
 The earliest of these, according to Mr Tyrwhitt, is 
 a paraphrase of the gospel histories called Ormulum, 
 composed by one ORME T ORMIN, which seems to 
 have been considered as mere prose by Hickes and 
 Wanley, who have given extracts from it, but is 
 really written in verse of fifteen syllables, without 
 rhyme, in imitation of the most common form of 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 C 82 ] 
 
 the Latin tetrameter iambic. The next is a Moraf 
 Poem on Old Age, written in rhyme, and extracted 
 by Hickes, part of which is to be found in the 
 introduction to Dr Johnson's Dictionary. Ano- 
 ther poem, also transcribed from Hickes's extract, 
 by Dr Johnson, is a Life of St Margaret, which, 
 as Mr Warton tells us, forms part of a volumi- 
 nous MS. in the Bodleian library, containing vari- 
 ous lives of the saints, translated, perhaps, from 
 some earlier Latin or French original. 
 
 But the most entertaining and curious specimen 
 preserved in Hickes's Thesaurus is one which that 
 learned editor has characterized as a most malevo- 
 lent satire on the religious orders. It, however, by 
 no means deserves this disgraceful appellation, be- 
 cause it does not contain one of those opprobrious 
 expressions which are so liberally employed, as a 
 substitute for wit, by the early satirists. The author, 
 whoever he was, takes advantage of a popular tra- 
 dition respecting the existence of an imaginary 
 terrestrial paradise, in some unknown quarter of 
 the globe, which he calls the land of Cokaygne; in 
 which his houris are nuns, and their happy com- 
 panions white and grey monks ; and his object is 
 to insinuate that the ease and luxury enjoyed in 
 the monasteries had scarcely less effect in peopling 
 the monastic orders than the inducements more 
 usually assigned by the proselytes of zeal and de-
 
 [ 83 ] 
 
 votion. In the Harleian MSS. there is an ancient 
 French poem, quoted by Mr VVarton, on a nearly 
 similar plan, called Le Ordre de bel Eyse. The 
 same idea is also pursued by Rabelais, and seems 
 to have been a great favourite with the early French 
 satirists. The word Cokaygne seems to be Frenchi- 
 fied Latin ; and our poem bears the strongest 
 mark of being a translation ; because the elegance 
 of the sketch, and the refined irony of the general 
 composition, are strongly contrasted with the rude- 
 ness of the language. As the poem is not exces- 
 sively long, it is here printed entire, with such 
 notes as appeared necessary to render it tolerably 
 intelligible. There are, however, some passages, 
 corrupted, perhaps, by the negligence of transcri- 
 bers, the obscurity of which I have not been able 
 to remove. 
 
 - Far in sea, by West Spain, 
 Is a land ihote* Cokaygne,* 
 
 1 Called. CSaxon.) 
 
 * From coquina; whence cuema, cuisine, &c. and the old 
 English word cockney. In P. Plowman's Vision, fol, zxv. 
 Ed. 1. 1550 (quoted hereafter), P. P. says, 
 
 1 have no salt bacon. 
 
 Ne no cokeney, by Christ ! collopsfor to make. 
 Perhaps the intelligence which the inhabitants of the metro- 
 polis displayed in the culinary art may have procured them 
 the appellation of cockneys from uplandiih or country-man .
 
 C 84- ) 
 
 There n'is land under heaven-rich* 
 
 Oftoel* of goodness it y-like. 
 
 Though Paradise be merry and bright, 
 
 Cokaygne is of fairer sight. 
 
 What is there in Paradise 
 
 But grass, and flower, and green-me ? 5 
 
 .Though there be joy and great dute * 
 
 There n'is meat but fruit. 
 
 There n'is ball, bure s no 6 bench ; 
 
 But water, man-is thirst to quench. 
 
 Beth 7 there no men but two, 
 
 Heli/ s and Enoch also. 
 
 Clinglich 9 may hi IX> go 
 
 Where there i/oomith " men no mo." 
 
 1 Heaven, the kingdom of heaven. Sax. 
 
 * Wealth, abundance of goodness. Sax. 
 3 Branches. Sax. 
 
 * Pleasure, deduit. Old Fr. 
 
 5 Bower, (Sax.) synonimous with chamber. F. 
 
 6 No, and sometimes nether, are used for nor. 
 
 7 There are. 8 Elias. 
 
 9 The sense seems to be, " It is easy for them to be clean 
 '' and of pure heart, because they are only two, and cannot 
 " be corrupted by bad example." Why Paradise should 
 contain only two inhabitants is not very intelligible, but it 
 was thus represented in the pageants, as appears from a pas- 
 sage in Fabian, quoted by Strutt (View of Manners, &c. 
 vol. II. p. 53) : " In the border of this delicious place,
 
 [ 85 ] 
 
 in Cokaygne is meat and drink, 
 Without care, how x and stuink* 
 The meat is trie, 3 the drink so clear, 
 To noon, russin, * and suppere ; 
 I sigge s (for sooth boot laere 6 ) 
 There n'is land on earth is 7 peer. 
 Under heaven n'is land I tviss 9 
 Of so mochil 9 joy and bliss. 
 
 There is many swete sight : 
 All is day, n'is there no night ; 
 
 " which icas named Paradise, stood two forgrowen father*, 
 " resembling Enochs and Hely, the which had this saying 
 " to the king," &c. [Reign of Hen. VI. vol. II. p. 425. 
 Ed. 1559. 
 
 10 They. The words they and them, instead of hi and 
 hem, seem to have been introduced, as Mr. Tyrwhitt ob- 
 serves, about the time of Chaucer. 
 
 11 Dwell. "More. 
 
 1 Anxiety. Sax. * Labour. Sax. 
 
 Choice, trie. Ft. 
 
 4 Rushing is still used in the northern counties for what 
 the French call a pouter, or meal between dinner and supper. 
 Vide Grose's 1'rov. Glossary. Noon was the usual time of 
 dinner. ' I say, or affirm. 
 
 6 This kind of phrase is now obsolete ; and yet we might 
 ay, " for falsehood boot-less were." 
 
 7 Apparently for hit, instead of its. 
 
 * I know. Muckle, much.
 
 [ 86 ] 
 
 There n'is baret* nother strife, 
 N'is there no death, ac * ever life. 
 There n'is lack of meat, no cloth ; 
 There n'is man no woman wroth ; 
 There n'is serpent, wolf, no fox, 
 Horse no capil,* cow no ox ; 
 There n'is sheep, no swine, no goat ; 
 No none horvoyla,* God it wot, 
 Nother karate, s nother stud : 
 The land is full of other good. 
 N'is there fly, flea, no louse, 
 In cloth, in town, bed, no house. 
 There n'is dunnir, 6 sleet, no hail ; 
 No none vile worm, no snail : 
 No none storm, rain, no wind : 
 There n'is man no woman blind : 
 Ok 7 all is game, joy, and glee. 
 Well is him that there may be ! 
 
 There beth rivers, great and fine, 
 Of oil, milk, honey, and wine. 
 
 * Wrangling. * But. 
 
 3 Steed, from caballus. It is used by Chaucer, &c. 
 
 4 Probably a groom, as karate and stud are mentioned 
 immediately afterwards : the Saxon word is hors-wtath, 
 
 5 Huras. Fr. A place where horses are bred. 
 
 6 Thunder. Sax. 7 But.
 
 [ 87 ] 
 
 Water serveth there to no thing 
 But to siyt * and to washing. 
 There is * manner fruit : 
 All is solace and dedute. 
 
 There is a well-fair Abbey 
 Of white monkes, and of grey ; 
 There beth bowers, and halls ; 
 All of pasties beth the walls, 
 Of flesh, of fish, and a rich meat, 
 The likefullest that man may eat. 
 Flouren-cakes beth the shingles 3 all 
 Of church, cloister, bowers, and hall. 
 The pinties 4 beth fat puddings, 
 Rich meat to princes and kings. 
 
 1 To seetb, or boil. 
 
 1 Here the word many is, perhaps, omitted. 
 
 3 Wooden tiles, for which those of clay were afterwards 
 substituted. Those ships in which the edges of the planks 
 cover each other like tiles, and which we now, with less 
 apparent reason, call clinker-built vessels, were formerly 
 called shingled thipt. " That in thy shingled ship shall be 
 " saved." P. Plowman, fol. xliv. 
 
 * Pinnacles. Mr Gray, in one of his letters to Mr Mason, 
 seems to say that these ornaments were not introduced into 
 ur Gothic architecture before the reign of Henry III. 
 (Vide quarto Edit. p. 896.)
 
 [ 88 ] 
 
 Man may there of eat enoy, 
 All with riyt, * and nought with woy. 
 All is common to young and old, 
 To stout and stern, meek and bold. 
 
 There is a cloister fair and light, 
 Broad and long of seemly sight. 
 The pillars of that cloister all 
 Beth y-turned of chrystal, 
 With harlas 3 and capital 
 Of green jaspe and red coral. 
 In the praer 4 is a tree, 
 SiKithe s likeful for to see. 
 The root is ginger and galingale t f 
 The scions beth all seduiale. * 
 
 1 * The meaning seems to be, that meat was not weighed 
 out, but in abundance, and at the disposal of all who chose 
 to seize it Eat, meat. Sax, ettc, cibus. 
 
 3 Probably the plinth, in Italian orlo. In Cotgrave's Diet, 
 we have orle, for a hem or border ; hence the word curler. 
 
 * Meadow, prairie, FT. 5 Very. 
 
 6 The sweet cyperus, a sort of rush, the roots of which 
 were supposed to be an excellent stomachic. It was pro- 
 bably, like the real galanga, one of the ingredients in the 
 hypocras, or medicated wine, used at the conclusion of 
 their meals. 
 
 7 Valerian ; or perhaps the mountain spikenard 5 for 
 Parkinson calls them both by the name of sciwali.
 
 C 89 ] 
 
 Trie T maces beth the flower, 
 The rind canel * of sweet odour ; 
 The fruit gilofre J of good smack. 
 Of cucubes* there n'is no lack, 
 There beth roses of red Uee y 5 
 And lily, likeful for to see : 
 Theyjallowetk 6 never day no night ; 
 This ought to be a sweet sight. 
 There beth four wells 7 in the abbey 
 Of treacle 8 and halvoei, 9 
 Of baum, I0 and eke piment, " 
 Ever emend 1J to right rent ; IJ 
 
 1 Choice. Fr. 
 
 * Cinnamon. Fr. 
 
 3 Cloves. Fr. They were first introduced into the West 
 in 1 190. Anderson's Hist, of Commerce. 
 
 4 Probably cuckoo-llo wers, or lady-smocks. 
 
 5 Colour. 
 
 6 They fade ; grow yellow. Our word fallow had origi- 
 nally the same meaning. 
 
 7 Springs. 
 
 8 Any sovereign remedy was at this time called treacle : 
 Venice treacle is still in some repute. The sirop of the su- 
 gar-bakers, now called treacle, cannot have been known so 
 early. 
 
 9 Holy-water ? ' Balsam. Fr. 
 
 " Spiced-wine. Fr. '- Running. Sax. 
 
 13 In a full stream.
 
 [ 90 ] 
 
 Of they streames all the mould, 
 Stones precious, and gold. 
 There is sapphire, and untune, * 
 Carbuncle, and astiune, * 
 Smaragde, 3 lugre, 4 and prassiune, s 
 Beryl, onyx, toposiune, 
 Amethyst, and chrysolite, 
 Chalcedon, and epetite. 6 
 
 There beth birdes, many andjfafe, 7 
 Throstle, thrush, and nightingale, 
 Chalandre, s and laood-iaaleS* 
 And other birdes without tale, 
 That stinteth never by har might 
 Merry to sing day and night. 
 
 \Here a few lines are lost."] 
 Yet I do you mo to wit, 
 The geese y-roasted on the spit 
 
 i*3456 of these names three only are intelligible ; 
 the unio, or pearl ; the smaragJe, or emerald ; and the 
 prassiune (prasius,) a stone generally found in the emerald 
 mines. Astiune may, perhaps, be the astrios, or astroites, of 
 Pliny ; lugre the leuco-cbrysas, or chrysolite ; and epetite 
 the haematites, or blood-stone. The virtues formerly as- 
 signed to gems will account for the length of this list. 
 
 7 Numerous. Sax. 
 
 8 Gold-finch. 
 
 9 Wood-lark?
 
 [ 91 3 
 
 Flee to that abbey, God it wot, 
 And greditk,* " Geese all hot ! all hot !" 
 Hi bringeth galek, * great plente, 
 The best y-dight J that man may see. 
 The leverokes 4 that beth couth, 5 
 Licth adown to man-is mouth, 
 Y-dight in stew full snrithe 6 well, 
 Powder'd with gingelofre and cartel. 7 
 
 N'is no speech of no drink ; 
 All take enough without sfuiink. 8 
 When the monkes geeth 9 to mass, 
 All tliejienestres, 10 that beth of glass, 
 Turneth into chrystal bright, 
 To give monkes more light. 
 When the masses beth isend, x * 
 And the bookes up-ilend, " 
 The chrystal turneth into glass 
 In state that it rather was. 
 
 The young monkes each day 
 After meat goeth to play ; 
 
 1 Cry. Sax. * Singing-birds? 3 Dressed. 
 
 * Lark.-. * I aught. 6 Quickly. 
 
 7 Dinner and cinnamon. * Labour. Go. 
 
 10 Windows. " Ended. " Laid up. 
 
 8
 
 t 92 ] 
 
 N'is there hawk no fowl so swift 
 Better fleeing by the lift 
 Than the monkes, high of mood, 
 With har sleeves and har hood. 
 When the abbot seeth ham flee, 
 That he holds for much glee. 
 Ac nathcless, all there among, 
 He biddeth ham 'light to eve song. 
 The monkes 'lighteth nought adown, 
 Ac far fleeth into randun ; * 
 When the abbot him y-seeth 
 That his monkes from him fleeth, 
 He taketh maiden of the route, 
 And turneth up her white t oute ; a 
 And beateth the tabor with his hand, 
 To make his monkes 'light to land. 
 When his monkes that y- seeth, 
 To the maid down hi fleeth, 
 And goeth the wench all aboute, 
 And thwacketh all her white toute : 
 
 1 At random. 
 
 1 There is much pleasantry in this picture of the young 
 monks taking wing, by means of their sleeves and hoods, 
 and flying like so many Cupids ; and our ancestors were 
 probably not offended by the direct mention of the drum 
 by which the reverend abbot called them back to their 
 devotions.
 
 r 93 3 
 
 And sith, after her swink, 
 Wendeth meekly home to drink ; 
 And goeth to har collation, 
 A well-fair procession. 
 
 Another abbey is thereby, 
 Forsooth a great fair nunnery : 
 Up a river of sweet milk, 
 Where is plenty great of silk. 
 When the summer's day is hot, 
 The young nunnes taketh a boat, 
 And doth ham forth in that rivere, 
 Both with oares and with steer. 
 When hi beth far from the abbey, 
 Hi maketh ham naked for to play, 
 And lieth down into the brim. 
 And doth ham slily for to swim. 
 The young monkes that hi * scetli, 
 Hi doth ham up, and forth hi fleeth, 
 And cometh to the nunnes anon. 
 And each monke him taketh one, 
 And snellick * beareth forth har prey 
 To the mochil grey abbey. 
 And teacheth the nunnes an orison 
 With jamblew J up and down. 
 
 Them. * Swiftly. 
 
 Gambols.
 
 [ 94 ] 
 
 The monke that wol be staluu * good, 
 
 And can set aright his hood, 
 
 He shall have, without dangere, 
 
 Twelve wives each year ; 
 
 All through right, and nought through grace, 
 
 For to do himself solace. 
 
 And thilk monke that clepith * best, 
 
 And doth his likam 3 all to rest, 
 
 Of him is hope, God it wot, 
 
 To be soon father abbot. 
 
 Whoso will come that land to, 
 Full great penance he mot do. 
 Seven years in swine's dritte * 
 He mot wade, tool ye y-tKitte, s 
 All anon up to the chin, 
 So he shall the land win, 
 
 Lordings, good and hend, 6 
 Mot ye never off world wend, 
 'Fore ye stand to your chance, 
 And fulfill that penance ; 
 
 1 Stout. 
 
 a Is declared ; or, perhaps, clippeth, i. e. embracetb. 
 
 3 He who forces all his likes, or fellows, to take rest 
 
 4 Dirt. 5 You must know. 
 Civil,
 
 [ 95 ] 
 
 That ye mot that land y-see, 
 And never more turn aye. * 
 
 Pray we God so mot it be ! 
 Amen, per saint charite. 
 
 A great many of our poets in the sixteenth 
 century allude to this story of Cokaygne, but they 
 change its name without much improving it : they 
 call it Lubber-land. In France and Italy the ori- 
 ginal expression is become proverbial. In the 
 second volume of Mr Way's translations from 
 Le Grand's abridgment of the ancient French 
 Fabliaux is a poem on the Pays de Cocagne ; 
 but not at all resembling the work which we have 
 been examining. This was, perhaps, imported by 
 the Crusaders, and bears some resemblance to the 
 story told by Sir J. Maundevile, of the Chief of 
 the Assassins, or Old Man of the Mountain, as he 
 is usually called. " Men clept him," says our tra- 
 veller, " Gatholonabes ; and he was full of cauteles 
 '* and of subtle deceits : and he had a full fair castle, 
 " and a strong, in a mountain And he had let 
 " muren all the mountain about with a strong waU 
 " and a fair. And within the fairest garden that 
 " any man might behold ; and therein were trees 
 1 A^nin.
 
 [ 96 ] 
 
 " bearing all manner of fruits and all manner 
 " virtuous herbs of good smell, and all other herbs 
 " also that bearen fair flowers. And he had also 
 " many fair wells. And, beside tho wells, he had 
 " let make fair halls and fair chambers, depainted 
 " all with gold and azure. And there weren in that 
 " place many a diverse things, and many diverse 
 " stories : and of beasts, and of birds, that sungen 
 " full delectably, and moveden by craft, that it 
 " seemed that they weren quick. And he had also 
 " in his garden all manner of fowls and of beasts, 
 " that any man might think on, for to have play or 
 " disport to behold them. And the fairest damsels 
 " that might been found under the age of 15 year ; 
 " and the fairest young striplings of that same 
 " age. And he had also let make three wells, fair 
 " and noble ; and all environed with stone of 
 " jasper, of chrystal, diapered with gold, and set 
 " with precious stones, and great orient pearls. 
 " And he had made a conduit under earth, so that 
 " the three wells, at his list, one should run milk, 
 " another wine, and another honey. And that 
 '* place he clept Paradise" (Sir J. Maundevile, 
 p. 336. Ed. 1727-
 
 t 97 ] 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Robert of Gloucester. Various small Poem? 
 apparently written during the latter Part of 
 the thirteenth Century. Robert de Bninnt. 
 
 W E are now arrived at the poet whom his editor, 
 Mr Hearne, emphatically calls " the British En- 
 nius," but concerning whom we know little more, 
 than that he was a monk of the abbey of Glou- 
 cester ; that his Christian name was ROBERT ; that 
 he lived during the reigns of Henry III. and Ed- 
 ward I. ; and that he wrote in English rhymes a 
 history of England from the days of the imaginary 
 Brutus to his own time. His work seems to have 
 been completed about the year 1280. " This 
 " rhyming chronicle," says Mr Warton, " is totally 
 ** destitute of art or imagination. The author has 
 " clothed the fables of Geoffrey of Monmouth in 
 " rhyme, which have often a more poetical air 
 " in Geoffrey's prose. The language is full of 
 " Saxonisms ; but this obscurity is, perhaps, ow- 
 ** ing to the western dialect, in which our monk 
 " of Gloucester was educated." 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 [ 98 ] 
 
 It would be quite hopeless to attempt a defence 
 of ROBERT OF GLOUCESTER'S poetry : perhaps his 
 own wish was merely to render more generally in- 
 telligible a body of history which he considered as 
 curious, and certainly believed to be authentic, 
 because it was written in Latin, the language of 
 truth and religion. Addressing himself to his illi- 
 terate countrymen, he employed the vulgar lan- 
 guage as he found it, without any attempt at 
 embellishment, or refinement ; and, perhaps, wrote 
 in rhyme, only because it was found to be an use- 
 ful help to the memory, and gave his work a chance 
 of being recited in companies where it could not 
 be read. The latter part of his poem, in which he 
 relates the events of his own time, will not appear 
 quite uninteresting to those who prefer the simple 
 and desultory narratives of contemporary writers 
 to the philosophical abridgments of the moderns ; 
 and a great part of his obscurity will be found to 
 result from that unnecessary mixture of the Ger- 
 man, or black letter, with the Saxon characters, in 
 which Mr Hearne, from his inordinate appetite for 
 antiquity, has thought proper to dress this ancient 
 English author. 
 
 Robert of Gloucester, though cold and prosaic, 
 is not quite deficient in the valuable talent of 
 arresting the attention; and the orations, with
 
 C 99 3 
 
 which he occasionally diversifies the thread of his 
 story, are, in general, appropriate and dramatic, 
 and not only prove his good sense, but exhibit no 
 unfavourable specimens of his eloquence. In his 
 description of the first crusade he seems to change 
 his usual character, and becomes not only enter- 
 taining, but even animated; and the vision, in 
 which a " holy man" is ordered to reproach the 
 Christians with their departure from their duty, 
 and, at the same time, to promise them the divine 
 intervention, to extricate them from a situation in 
 which the exertions of human valour were appa- 
 rently fruitless, would not, perhaps, to contempo- 
 rary readers appear less poetical, nor less sublime 
 and impressive, than the introduction of the hea- 
 then mythology into the works of the early classics. 
 The expectations awakened by this grand incident 
 are, indeed, miserably disappointed by the strange 
 morality which our monk ascribes to the Supreme 
 Being, who declares himself offended, not by the 
 unnecessary cruelties of the crusaders, nor by the 
 general profligacy of their manners, so much as by 
 the reflection, that they 
 
 " With women of Paynim did their foul kind, 
 " Whereof the stench came into heaven on high." 
 
 But these absurdities and inconsistencies present, 
 perhaps, a more lively picture of the reigning man-
 
 [ 100 ] 
 
 ners and opinions than could have been intention- 
 ally delineated by a writer of much superior abili- 
 ties to Robert of Gloucester. 
 
 Our sententious annalist has given, in the follow- 
 ing few lines, the same description which we have 
 already examined, as exhibited more at length by 
 Wace, and imitated by Layamon : 
 
 The king was to his palace, tho* the service was y-do, 
 Y-lad with his menye, 1 and the queen to hers also. 
 For hit 3 held the old usages, that men with men 
 
 were 
 
 By hem * selve, and women by hem selve also there. 
 Tho hit were each one y-set, as it to her s state 
 
 become, 
 
 KAY, king of Anjou, a thousand knights name 6 
 Of noble men, y-clothed in ermine each one 
 Of one suit, * and served at this noble feast anon. 
 BEDWER the butler, king of Normandy, 
 Norn also in his half* a fair company, 
 Of one suit, for to serve of the butlery. 
 Before the queen it was also of all such courtesy. 
 
 1 When, sometimes then, but never though, which our old 
 authors sometimes spell they, sometimes thogh, &c. &c. 
 
 2 Fr. Attendants. * They. * Them. 
 
 S Their. 6 Took. Sax. 7 In the same dress. 
 
 8 On his behalf, or on his part. The use of the several 
 prepositions was not fixed as it now is, but many of them
 
 C 101 3 
 
 For to tell all the nobleye ' that there was y-do, 
 Though my tongue were of steel, me should nought 
 
 dure * thereto. 
 
 Women ne kept of* no knight as in druery, * 
 But * he were in arms well y-proved, and at least 
 
 thrye. 6 
 
 That made, lo, the women the chaster life lead, 
 And the knights the stalworder, 7 and the better in 
 
 her deed. 
 Soon after this noble meat, 8 as right was of such 
 
 tide, 
 
 The knights atylcd* hem about, in each side, 
 In fields and in meads to prove her bachelry, * 9 
 Some with Ian ce, some with sword, without villany :* * 
 With playing at tables, other " at chekere, 1J 
 With casting , other with setting,** other in some 
 
 ogyrt IS manere. 
 
 were used indifferently. Repeated proofs of this occur in the 
 present extract, and they are, therefore, marked in italics. 
 
 I Noble feats. Old Fr. * Endure, last. 
 
 3 Took no account of. 4 Gallantry. s Unless. 
 
 6 Thrice. 7 Bolder. Sax. 8 Feast. 
 
 9 Prepared, or, perhaps, armed. It seems to be the 
 French word atteller ; and the English word harneu was 
 also synonymous with armour. 
 
 10 Knighthood. Fr. " Meanness. Fr. 
 
 II Or. ' J Chess. Chekere is properly a chess-board. 
 14 This may possibly refer to tric-trac, or back-gammon ; 
 
 but casting and setting may also relate to throwing the bar. 
 'S Other.
 
 [ 102 ] 
 
 And which-so of any game had the mastery, 
 The king hem of his gifts did large courtesy. 
 Up the alurs * of the castles the ladies then stood, 
 And beheld this noble game, and which knights 
 
 were good. 
 
 All the three hext * days y-laste this nobleye, 
 In halls and in fields, of meat, and eke of play. 
 These men came the fourth day before the king 
 
 there, 
 And he gave hem large gifts, ever as hii worth 
 
 were. 
 
 Bishopricks and churches clerks he gave some, 
 And castles and towns knights that were y-come.* 
 
 (P. 190.) 
 
 1 The walks on the roof of the castle. 
 
 * Highest, or feast-days. 
 
 * For the purpose of shewing how exactly Robert of 
 Gloucester translates from his original, I shall here add the 
 whole corresponding passage from Geoffrey of Monmouth. 
 
 Hex ct regiua diademata sua deponunt, assumptisque 
 levioribus ornamentis, ille ad suum palatium cum viris, 
 hajc ad aliud cum mulieribus, epulatum incedunt: antiquam 
 namque consuetudinem Trojae servantes Britones, consueve- 
 rant mares cum maribus, niulicrcs cum mulieribus, festivos 
 dies separatim celebrare. 
 
 Collocatis postmodum cunctis ut singulorum dignitas 
 expetebat, Cams dapifer, berminio ornatus, mille vero 
 nobilissimis juvenibus couiitatus est, qui omnes, herminio 
 induti, ferculu cum ipso ministrubnut. Ex al a vero parte 
 Beduerum placeman! totidem vario amicti sequuntur, qui
 
 [ 103 ] 
 
 The reader who compares the foregoing extract 
 with the satirical piece contained in the last chap- 
 ter, will probably think that Robeit of Gloucester's 
 
 in scyphis diversorum generum multimoda pocula cum ipso 
 distribuebant. In palatio quoque rtginae, innumerabiles 
 mioistri, diversis ornamentis induti, obsequium suura prae- 
 stabant, morem suum exercentes ; quern si omnino descri- 
 bere pergerem, niiniam histuriae prolixitatem generarem. 
 Ad tantuin etenim statum dignitatis Britannia tune pro- 
 vecta crat, quod copi/i divitiarum, luxu ornamentorum, 
 facetia incolarum, cetera regna excellebat. Quicunque 
 ergo famosus probitate miles in eadem crat unius colorii 
 vc.-tihus atque armis utebatur- Facet* autcni muliercs, con- 
 limilia indumenta habentes, nullius amoreni habere digna- 
 bantur, nUi tertio inmilitia approbatus esset. Jifficieban- 
 tur ergo castan muliercs, et milites amore illarum meliores. 
 Refecti tandem epulis, divers! diversos ludos composituri, 
 campos extra civitatem adeunt. Mox milites, simulacrum 
 jiru'lii ciendo, equestrcm ludum componunt : mulieres in 
 dito murorum aspicientes in curiales amoris flammas 
 nore* joci irritant. Alii telis, aiii hast&> alii ponderosorum 
 lapidum jactu, alii sa\i 5 , alii alt-is, cetererumque jocorum 
 diversitate contendentes, quod diei restabat, postposita lite, 
 pnetereunt. Quicunque veroludisui victoriam adeptuserat, 
 ab Arturio largis muneribus ditabatur. Consumptis ergo 
 prim is in hunc modum tribus diebus,instante quarto vocantur 
 cuncti qui ipsi propter honorea obsequium pr;cst:ibant, et 
 inguli singulis possession! bus, civitatibus videlicet, atque 
 
 * Amore, Ed. 1587. 
 12
 
 C 10* 1 
 
 language very nearly resembles that of his con- 
 temporaries, and is not particularly marked with 
 Saxonisms or provincial phrases. The oddest pe- 
 culiarity in his style is the strange use of the word 
 me, which we have seen once used by Layamon, 
 but which here occurs as a mere expletive in almost 
 every page. There is an instance of it in the fol- 
 lowing couplet, which is not quoted for this reason, 
 but because it relates to our literary history. Our 
 author, speaking of Richard I., says, 
 
 <* Me ne may not all tell here, ac whoso it will 
 
 ** y-wite, 
 " In romance of him y-made me it may find 
 
 " y-write." [P. 487-] 
 
 The simple meaning of which seems to be, that he 
 refers such of his readers as shall wish for farther 
 details, to the French or Romance history of this 
 monarch. Mr Hearne, however, in his note on this 
 passage, assures us that our grave historian here 
 quotes a. fabulous narrative; that it is in English, 
 in short verse, that he remembers to have seen it 
 
 castellis, archiepiscopatibus, episcopatibus, abbatiis, ce- 
 'erisque honoribns dotantur. 
 Galfr. Mon. ed. 1517, p. 77. et ap. Rer. Brit. Script. 
 
 Vet. 1587, p. 70, 1, 89.] 
 
 The reader has already seen Wace's curious amplifica- 
 tion of this picture. 
 
 4-
 
 [ 105 ] 
 
 in print, and that for this reason, and because it 
 is a very indifferent performance, it is. not worth 
 transcribing from his copy, which he distinguishes 
 as Codex. Ar. and, lest we should doubt the fact, 
 he tells us all this in Latin. If there exist an Eng- 
 lish metrical romance on the life of Richard Coeur 
 de Lion anterior to Robert of Gloucester, it is cer- 
 tainly a great curiosity. 
 
 It is, however, very probable, that a few of those 
 compositions which we now call metrical romances, 
 and which by older writers are termed gests (from 
 the Latin word gesta, which was become the fa- 
 shionable appellation of every learned story-book) 
 were written about this time ; because Robert de 
 Brunne expressly mentions two poets, ERCELDOUN 
 and KENDALE, as excelling in this mode of writing, 
 and says of the story of Sir Tristram, that 
 
 Over gestes it has th' esteem : 
 
 Over all that is or was, 
 
 If men it said, as made TJtomas.* 
 
 The bard who is thus distinguished from a crowd 
 of competitors, is supposed to be Thomas Ler- 
 raont of Ercildoun, or Erceldoune, a village in 
 Tweedale, generally known by the honourable ap- 
 pellation of Thomas the Rhymer, who lived in the 
 
 Jlearne'j Prcf. to Laiigtoft, xcix.
 
 C 106 ] 
 
 reign of Edward I. and was reputed (though it 
 seems falsely) to be the author of some metrical 
 prophecies not yet forgotten in Scotland. His 
 contemporary Kendale is only known by the acci- 
 dental mention of Robert de Brunne. There is, 
 however, an unclaimed metrical romance apparent- 
 ly belonging to this period, which the generosity 
 of future critics may possibly assign to him. This 
 is the Geste of King Horn, preserved in a very cu- 
 rious miscellany in the British Museum, (HarU 
 MSS. No. 2253) and mentioned by Chaucer as 
 one of the romances of price. Mr Warton has given 
 an excellent abridgment of it, together with a 
 considerable extract, in the first volume of liis 
 Hist, of Poetry, p. 38.* 
 In the same manuscript which contains this ro- 
 
 * Having procured from the Museum a transcript of this 
 very curious work, I should not have failed to insert it en- 
 tire, but that I had reason to hope that the task of editing 
 it would fall into much better hands. The reader will cer- 
 tainly learn with pleasure that Mr Ritson has it in contem- 
 plation to publish a series of our old metrical romances, ma- 
 ny of which exist only in manuscript. Such a work, exe- 
 cuted by him, is likely to prove the most valuable reper- 
 tory of early language and manners that has yet been pre- 
 sented to the public. 
 
 Since this note was written, Mr Ritson's projected pub- 
 lication has been completed in three volumes, and contains 
 the romance in question.
 
 107 ] 
 
 mance are found some political satires of consi- 
 derable merit ; one of which was certainly com- 
 posed in the year 1265 : (it is inserted in Percy's 
 Reliques, as is also an elegy on the death of Edward 
 I. written in 1307) another, on the defeat of the 
 French army by the Flemings, in 1301 ; and a 
 ballad against the Scots, composed in 1306. As 
 the first of these pieces may be considered as ante- 
 rior to the composition of Robert of Gloucester's 
 poem, and the others were written very soon after 
 its conclusion, Mr Warton seems to have employed 
 them as terms of comparison, for the purpose of 
 ascertaining by internal evidence the dates of se- 
 veral love-songs, devotional and moral poems, and 
 other smaller pieces contained in the same miscel- 
 lany. He was perhaps mistaken in referring som 
 of these to so early a period as the year 1 200 ; but 
 they certainly appear to have been written near the 
 middle of the thirteenth century; and, as specimens 
 of our earliest lyric compositions are not unworthy 
 of our curiosity, the reader is here presented with 
 two, one of which is a moral ditty, and the other 
 a love-song : both copied from the volume of an- 
 cient songs published by Mr Ritson, who has cor- 
 rected some trifling mistakes committed by Mr 
 Warton in decyphering the obsolete characters of 
 the ancient MS.
 
 C 108 ] 
 
 DITTY 
 
 Upon the Uncertainty of this Life, and the Approach 
 of Death. 
 
 Winter wakeneth all my care ; 
 
 Now these leaves waxeth bare. 
 
 Oft i sigh, and mourne sare, 
 
 When it cometh in my thought, 
 
 Of this world's joy, how it go'th all to nought ! 
 
 Now it is, and now it n'is, 
 
 All so l it ne'er n'loere I wis : 
 
 That many men saith, sooth it is, 
 
 All go'th * but Codes will : 
 
 All we shall die, though us like ill. 3 
 
 AH that grain me groweth green ; 
 
 Now, itjdttoiveth 4 all by-dene. 5 
 
 Jesu help, that it be seen, 6 
 
 And shield us from hell, 
 
 For I n'ot 7 whither I shall, ne how long here dwell. 
 
 1 As if it had never been. 2 Passeth away. 
 
 3 Though we may dislike it ? * Fadetb, 
 
 5 Presently. 6 The meaning seems to be, " May 
 
 '* Jesu help us so that his help may be manifest." 
 7 Ne wot, know net.
 
 [ 109 ] 
 
 SONG 
 
 In Praise of the Author's Mistress, whose Name teas 
 ALYSOUX. 
 
 Between March and Averil, 
 
 When spray beginneth to spring, 
 The little fowl hath hire will 
 
 On hire lud T to sing. 
 I live in love-longing 
 For seemlolcest * of alle thing 
 She may me blisse bring, 
 
 I am in her bandoun. J 
 An hendy 4 hap I have y-hent, $ 
 Ichot 6 from heaven it is me sent, 
 From all women my love is lent, 
 
 And 'light 7 on Alysoun. 
 
 On hen 8 her hair is fair enough, 
 Her brow brown, her eye black : 
 
 With lossum ' cheer she on me lough * 
 With middle small and well y-mak. 
 
 1 Songs, or odes. The word leudi occurs in the same 
 sense in the barbarous Latin of the times, as Mr Pinkerton 
 has justly observed. 
 
 * Seemliest, handsomest. 3 Command. 1'r. 
 4 Lucky. s Caught. 
 
 * I think. ^ Alighted. 
 
 8 This apparently inexplicable phrase is perhaps an error 
 of the transcribers. y Lovesome, lovely. |0 Laughs.
 
 C no 3 
 
 But f she will me to her take, 
 For to been her owen make, * 
 Long to liven I shall forsake, 
 And, fay ! J fallen adown. 
 An hendy hap, &c 
 
 Nightes, when I wend and wake, 
 
 For thee my wonges 4 waxeth wan 
 Lady all for thine sake 
 
 Longing is y-lent me on ! 
 In world n'is non so tayter s man, 
 That all her bounty 6 telle can : 
 Her stuire * is whiter than the swan, 
 
 And fairest may 8 in town. 
 An hendy hap, &c. 
 
 I am, for wooing, all for weak, 
 Weary, so water in 'wore ; 9 
 
 Lest any reave Io me my make 
 I shall be y-yearned tl sore. 
 
 * Unless. * Own mate. 
 
 3 In faith. Fr. * Cheeks. Sax. 
 
 5 Wise, 6 Excellence, bonie. Fr. 
 
 7 Neck, 8 Virgin. Sax. 
 
 ' Wear, pool. I0 Bereave me of. 
 
 11 Vexed, anxious.
 
 [ in ] 
 
 Better is tkolien * while * sore 
 Than mournen evermore. 
 Gainest under gore, 3 
 
 Hearken to my roan ! * 
 An hendy hap, &c. 
 
 It is not impossible that Chaucer, at the same 
 time that he ridiculed the romances, may have in- 
 tended to laugh at the fashionable love-songs of 
 his age ; for in his rhyme of Sir Thopas he has 
 borrowed two apparently affected phrases from the 
 foregoing composition. 
 
 Sire Thopas fell in love-longing 
 All when he heard the throstle sing. 
 
 And afterwards : 
 
 Me dreamed all this night, pardie, 
 An elf-queen shall my lemman be, 
 And sleep under my gore. 
 
 * To suffer. Sax. 
 
 * Awhile. 
 
 3 Perhaps, " Most graceful in dress." The word gainest 
 eccurs in the same sense in Dunbar's " Twa mariit Women," 
 verse 78. Ungain b still used in the provinces for the oppo- 
 site idea ; and gore appears to be the same with gtar y dtcft, 
 from the Saxon gearwa, vcstis. 
 
 * Song.
 
 C m 3 
 
 To the same period with the foregoing we ought, 
 perhaps, to refer the following short descriptive 
 song, preserved by Sir John Hawkins in his History 
 of Music, vol. II. p. 93. 
 
 Summer is y-comen in, 
 
 Loude sing cuckoo : 
 Groweth seed, 
 And blotveth ' mead, 
 
 And spring'th the wood now ; 
 
 Sing cuckoo! 
 Ewe bleateth after lamb, 
 
 Low'th after calf cow : 
 Bullock starteth, 
 Buck verteth, z 
 
 Merry sing cuckoo ! 
 
 Cuckoo, cuckoo ! 
 
 Well sings thou cuckoo ! 
 
 Ne siuick 2 thou never now. 
 
 The first poet who occurs in the beginning of the 
 fourteenth century is ROBERT MANNYNG, com- 
 monly called ROBERT DE BRUNNE. He was, as far 
 as we know, merely a translator. His first work,says 
 Mr Warton, was a metrical paraphrase of a French 
 
 1 Blooms. * Goes to harbour among the fern. 
 
 3 Cease.
 
 [ 113 ] 
 
 book, written by Robert Grosthead, bishop of Lin- 
 coln, called Manuele Pecche (Manuel des Peches,) 
 being a treatise on the decalogue, and on the se- 
 ven deadly sins, which are illustrated with many 
 legendary stories. It was never printed, but is pre- 
 served in the Bodleian library, MSS. N. 415, and 
 in the British Museum, MSS. Harl. No. 1701. 
 
 His second and more important work is a me- 
 trical chronicle of England, in two parts, the 
 former of which (from /Eneas to the death of Cad- 
 wallader) is translated from Wace's Brut d'Angle- 
 terre, and the latter (from Cadwallader to the end 
 of the reign of Edward I.) from a French chroni- 
 cle, written by Peter de Langtoft, an Augustine 
 canon of Bridlington, in Yorkshire, who is suppo- 
 sed to have died in the reign of Edward II. and 
 was, therefore, contemporary with his translator. 
 
 Robert de Brunne has furnished his biographers 
 with the only particulars that are known concern- 
 ing his life. In the prologue to his first work he 
 says that he had lived fifteen years at Brunne, in 
 the priory of black canons, when he began his 
 translation in 1 303. He was therefore received into 
 the order in 1288, and was probably born before 
 1270. With respect to his second work, he says, 
 
 Of Brunne I am, if any me blame, 
 Robert Mannyng is my name : 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 [ 114- ] 
 
 Blessed be he of God of heaven 
 That me Robert with good will nevcn. T 
 In the third Edward's time was I 
 When I wrote all this story. 
 In the house of Sixille I was a throw. a 
 Dan Robert of Malton that ye know 
 Did it write for fellows' sake, 
 When they willed solace make. 
 
 [Hearne's Pref. to Pet. Langt. ci.] 
 
 By this passage he seems to mean, that he was 
 born at a place called Malton ; that he had resided 
 some time at a house in the neighbourhood called 
 Sixhill ; and that there he, Robert de Brunne, had 
 composed at least a part of his poem during the 
 reign of Edward III. Mr Warton, therefore, is 
 perhaps inaccurate in his account of this author, 
 when he says, -that " he was a Gilbertine monk 
 ** in the monastery of Brunne, or Bourne, near 
 " Depyng in Lincolnshire : but he had been before 
 " professed in the priory of Sixhille, a house of 
 " the same order, and in the same county." 
 
 Mr Hearne, the editor of Robert de Brunne, 
 has thought fit 1o suppress the whole of his transla- 
 tion from Wace, excepting the prologue, and a few 
 extracts which he found necessary to illustrate his 
 glossary. The learned antiquary perhaps thought 
 
 1 .Names. * For some time.
 
 [ 115 ] 
 
 that, having carefully preserved the whole of Ro- 
 bert of Gloucester's faithful and almost literal ver- 
 sion of Geoffrey of Monmouth, it was unnecessary 
 to print the more licentious paraphrase which had 
 passed through the medium of a Norman poet. 
 The following description of the first interview 
 between Vortigern and Rowena is one of the few 
 specimens that he has preserved. It is not given 
 as an example of beautiful poetry, or of refined 
 language, for its style is scarcely to be distinguish- 
 ed from that of the Monk of Gloucester ; but it is 
 a curious description of ancient manners : 
 
 Of chamber Rouwen so gent, 
 Before the king in hall scho I went; 
 A cup with wine she had in hand, 
 And her attire was voeU-farhnd ; * 
 Before the king one knee set, 
 And on her language scho him gret : 
 " Laverid J king, Wassaille /" said she. 
 The king asked what should be ? 
 On that language the king ne couth. * 
 A knight t her language lend * in youth : 
 Breg hight that knight, born Bretoun, 
 That lend the language of Sessofoi : 6 
 
 1 She. a Very becoming. * Lord. 
 
 * Knew. 5 Learned. *
 
 [ 116 ] 
 
 This Breg was thre latimer, * 
 
 What scho said told Vortager. 
 
 " Sir," Breg said, " Rouwen you gretis, 
 
 " And king calls, and lord you letis. * 
 
 " This is their custom and their gest, 
 
 " When they are at the ale, or feast ; 
 
 " Ilk man that loves where him think, 
 
 " Shall say, Wassaille ! and to him drink. 
 
 " He that bids 3 shall say Wassaille ! 
 
 " The tother shall say again Drinkhaille ! 
 
 " That says Wassaille ! drinks of the cup ; 
 
 " Kissand* his fellow he gives it up. 
 
 " Drinkhaille ! he says, and drinks thereof, 
 
 " Kissand him in bourd and scoff". " s 
 
 The king said, as the knight gan ken, 6 
 " Drinkhaille /" smiland on Rouwen. 
 Rouwen drank, as her list, 
 And gave the king ; sine 7 him kist. 
 
 1 Latinier. Ft, ; an interpreter. 
 
 a Esteems. 3 Invites. 
 
 4 Kissing. This is the usual termination of the participle 
 in old English, as it is in French. 
 
 5 In sport and in play. 
 
 6 " As the knight had signified." The word gan (began) 
 is often used to form the tenses of verbs. 
 
 7 Since, afterwards. 
 
 12
 
 [ 117 ] 
 
 There was the first Wassaille in deed, 
 
 And that first of fame geed. * 
 
 Of that Wassaitte men told great tale, &c. 
 
 Fele sithes * that maiden ying 
 WassaiUed, and kist the king. 
 Of body she was right avenant, 3 
 Of fair colour, with sweet semblant : 4 
 Her attire full well it seemed ; 
 Marvellich the king she quemed^ 
 Out of measure was he glad, 
 For of that maiden he ixex 6 all mad. 
 Drunkenness the fiend wrought : 
 Of that paen 7 was all his thought. 
 A mischance that time him led ; 
 He asked that paen for to wed, &c. 
 
 (Glossary to Rob. of Gloucest. p. 695.) 
 
 It is hoped that the reader will forgive a second 
 extract from this obsolete author, in support of a 
 conjecture started by Mr Hearne, who (as Mr 
 Warton justly observes) is not often fortunate in 
 his conjectures. He supposes that many of our 
 ancient ballads were nothing more than extracts 
 
 1 Went. * Many times. * Handsome. Fr. 
 
 4 Appearance. S Pleased. 6 Grew. 
 
 7 Payenne. Ft. Pagan.
 
 [ 118 ] 
 
 from metrical chronicles written by persons of 
 learning ; and that such relations were styled anci- 
 ent gests, in opposition to romances. It is not in- 
 tended to defend the latter position, because the 
 word gest, which signified an action, or adventure, 
 was never opposed to the word romance, which was 
 originally applied to language only : but a consi- 
 derable part of Robert de Brunne's chronicle is in 
 fact broken into small parts, which have all the 
 appearance of a series of ballads ; and the author, 
 as he proceeded in his work, acquired such a facility 
 in rhyming, as to be enabled to write a consider- 
 able part of his translation from Langtoft in what 
 is now considered as the genuine ballad metre, that 
 is to say, what de Brunne himself calls the rhyme 
 entrelacee. The reader will judge from the follow- 
 ing extract, part of which is printed by Mr Wart on, 
 and given in its original Alexandrine form. It is 
 a chapter beginning at p. 182 of Hearne's edition. 
 
 Richard at Godis board * 
 
 His mass had and his rights : 
 Hear now stuilfc * a word 
 
 He spake to his knights. 
 
 " Of this king Philip 
 
 " Have we no manner of help : 
 1 At the altar, God's table. z Such.
 
 [ 119 ] 
 
 " Together, I rede, * we keep, 
 " That men of us yelp. * 
 
 " I vow to Saint Michael, 
 " And till hallows J that are, 
 
 " That, for woe, ne weal, 
 " Hithen'ne shall I fare, 
 
 n Ne till Acre go, 
 
 " Till the castle be taken 
 " That Philip went fro, 
 
 " For us has it s forsaken. 
 
 " For his own default 
 " With 6 us he has envie. 
 
 " Go we to the assault, 
 That God us all condie .'" * 
 
 The dikes were full wide 
 
 That clos'd the castle about ; 
 
 1 I advise. 
 
 To cry, wail, boast ; the meaning is, " that men may 
 " talk loudly of us." 
 
 3 " To the saints that are." 4 Hence, 
 
 5 Apparently an error of the transcriber, for he, 
 
 6 Against. Sax, In the same sense we should say, he is 
 angry with us. 7 Conduct.
 
 [ 120 ] 
 
 And deep on ilka * side, 
 With bankis high without. 
 
 Was there none entre 
 
 That to the castel gan ligge * 
 But a straight cause ; 
 
 At the end a draw-brigge : 
 
 With great double chains 
 Drawn over the gate ; 
 
 And fifty armed swains, 
 Porters at that gate. 
 
 With slings and magneles 3 
 They cast to king Richard, 
 
 Our Christians, by parceles, 
 Casted again-ward. 
 
 Ten Serjeants, of the best, 
 His targe * gan him bear ; 
 
 1 Each. 
 1 Lay. 
 
 3 Mangonels. Fr. A sort of catapulta which threw large 
 stones, and was employed for the purpose of battering 
 walls. 
 
 4 Shield ; apparently a sort of mantelet serving as a port- 
 able rampart.
 
 [ 121 J 
 
 That eager were, and prest * 
 To cover him, and to wear* a 
 
 Himself, as a giant, 
 
 The chaines in two hew : 
 The targe was his laarrant,* 
 
 That none 'till him threw. 
 
 Right unto the gate 
 
 With the targe they geed:* 
 Fightand on a gate, s 
 
 Under, him they slew his steed. 
 
 Therefore ne will'd he cease ; 
 
 Alone into the castel 
 Through them all will'd press : 
 
 On foot fought he full well. 
 
 And when he was within, 
 And fought as a wild liOn, 
 
 1 Ready. Fr. * Defend j tea-ran. Sax. 
 
 3 Security ; garant ; Fr. 
 
 * Went ; but geed seems the proper perfect tense of the 
 verb g o, or gee, as went is of wend, (icccndm. Sax.) 
 
 5 At tbe gate, says Mr Hearne. Quere if it does not 
 mean on a time? as in all-gates, i. e. (toutu fois. Fr.) at 
 all times, always.
 
 [ 122 ] 
 
 Hefonder'd l the Saracens o'twain, 
 And fought as a dragon. 
 
 Without, the Christians gan cry, 
 " Alas! Richard is taken !" 
 
 The Normans were sorry, 
 Of countenance gan blacken. 
 
 To slay down and to 'stroy, 
 
 Never will'd they stint : 
 They left for dead no *noy t * 
 
 Ne for no wound no dint. 
 
 That in went all their press, 
 Maugre the Saracens all, 
 
 And found Richard on des 3 
 Fightand, and won the hall. 
 
 1 Forced. (Hearne's Glossary) Perhaps, however, it is a 
 mistake of the transcriber for sonder'd, i. e. sundered, sepa- 
 rated. 
 
 * " They would not leave off, either on account of the dead 
 " who fell round them, or of the annoyance of the enemy." 
 3 Probably a platform : and for this reason the principal 
 table in the hall, being elevated above the common floor, 
 was particularly called the des. The canopy placed over 
 such a table afterwards acquired the same name. Hence a 
 good deal of dispute about the meaning of the word ; but 
 the conjecture here given, which is Mr Tyrwhitt's, appears 
 the most reasonable.
 
 [ 123 ] 
 
 Nobody but he alone 
 
 Unto the Christians came ; 
 And slain he had ilk-trne 
 
 The lords, but three he name. f 
 
 With tho three alive 
 
 His messengers went ; 
 Till Acre gan they drive, 
 
 To Philip made present. 
 
 Mr Warton has given us a very long extract 
 from an English translation of a work written by 
 Grosthead, Bishop of Lincoln, in French verse, and 
 called by Leland Chateau d* 'Amour, which he con- 
 jectures to be from the pen of Robert de Brunne ; 
 and Hearne ascribes to him, though perhaps with- 
 out reason, the metrical English romance of Richard 
 Coeur de Lion. He was, upon the whole, an indus- 
 trious and certainly ( for the time ) an elegant wri- 
 ter ; and his extraordinary facility of rhyming (a 
 talent, indeed, in which he has been seldom sur- 
 passed), must have rendered his works an useful 
 Btudy to succeeding versifiers. 
 
 1 Took. Sar.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Reign of Edward 1 1. Change in the Language 
 produced by frequent Translations from the 
 French, Minstrels. Sources of Romance. 
 Adam Davie. Specimens of his Life of 
 Alexander. Robert Baston. 
 
 JL/URiNG the first period of our poetry, compre- 
 hending the greater part of the thirteenth, and 
 about half of the fourteenth century, our English 
 versifiers are divided into two classes, the ecclesi- 
 astics and lay-minstrels, who are generally dis- 
 tinguished from each other by a very different 
 choice of subjects ; the former exhibiting their ta- 
 lents in metrical lives of the saints, or in rhyming 
 chronicles ; the latter in satirical pieces, and love- 
 songs. Tales of chivalry, being equally the favour- 
 ites of all descriptions of men, were, to a certain 
 degree, the common property of both. 
 
 There is reason to believe that a marked differ- 
 ence of style and language was apparent in the 
 compositions of these rival poets, because the in-
 
 [ 125 ] 
 
 ferior orders of the priesthood, and the several 
 monastic societies, being chiefly conversant with 
 the inhabitants of the country and of the villages, 
 were likely to retain more of the Saxon phraseo- 
 logy, and to resist the influx of French innovations 
 much longer than their competitors : and it is prin- 
 cipally to this circumstance that it seems reason- 
 able to attribute those peculiarities of style, which 
 Mr Warton thought he discovered in Robert of 
 Gloucester, and which he has ascribed to the pro- 
 vincial situation of the writer. The northern pro* 
 vinces, it is true, on account, perhaps, of their 
 long subjection to the Danes, are represented by 
 John de Trevisa (in a passage often quoted) as 
 differing materially in their pronunciation from 
 those of the south : but Gloucester is not a north- 
 ern county. The charge of provincial barbarism 
 might with more justice be imputed to Robert de 
 Brunne, as being a native of Yorkshire ; but he 
 has taken care to assure us that his simple and un- 
 adorned diction was the result of care and design ; 
 that he considers his " fellows" as the depositaries 
 of pure and true English ; that he 
 
 " made nought for no disours t l 
 
 " Ne for no teggers,* no harpours. 
 
 1 Ditfun. Fr. Reciters. 
 
 2 Sayert, (be Englinh name for tbc tame profestion.
 
 [ 126 ^ ] 
 
 " Butjftr the love of simple men 
 " That strange English cannot ken." 
 [De Brunne's Pro!. Vide. Hearne's Pref. xcix.] 
 
 These disours, or seggers, he tells us, took the most 
 unwarrantable liberties with the diction of the works 
 they recited ; and he omits no opportunity of pro- 
 testing against their licentious innovations in our 
 language. 
 
 The reader, who shall take the pains of compa- 
 ring a few pages of the glossary annexed by Mr 
 Tyrwhitt to his edition of Chaucer with that which 
 Mr Hearne has compiled for the illustration of Ro- 
 bert de Brunne, will probably think that our au- 
 thor's complaints were just, and that the language 
 of the city and inns of court was much more infect- 
 ed with Gallicisms than that of the monasteries ; 
 although a rapid change in both appears to have 
 taken place during the reign of Edward III. Many 
 of the Norman words then introduced have, in- 
 deed, long since become obsolete, and the Saxon 
 has recovered its superiority ; because the gradual 
 dissemination of wealth and liberty and learning 
 among the common people has, in sqme measure, 
 blended in our language all the provincial dialects ; 
 but the torrent of fashion, at the period of which we 
 are now treating, was irresistible. It was, perhaps, 
 ia some degree assisted by the practice of the dig-
 
 C 127 ] 
 
 nitied ecclesiastics, who, when they did not write 
 in Latin, universally affected to use the French lan- 
 guage ; but it is principally to be ascribed to the 
 numerous translations which were made at this 
 time from the French writers of those fabulous 
 histories which we now call romances. Such trans- 
 lations were hastily written, because eagerly called 
 for ; and their authors took the liberty ( in which 
 they were imitated by the disours or reciters) of 
 admitting without scruple such " strange" words 
 as happened to suit their rhyme, as well as those 
 for which they could not immediately recollect the 
 correspondent term in English. 
 
 As the public reciters here mentioned by Robert 
 de Brunne may possibly be unknown to many 
 readers, it will perhaps be proper in this place to 
 take some notice of them, as well as of the min- 
 strels, with whom they were nearly connected. 
 
 It appears that, during the reign of our Norman 
 kings, a poet, who was also expected to unite with 
 the talent of versifying those of music and recita- 
 tion, was a regular officer in the royal household, 
 as well as in those of the more wealthy nobles, whose 
 courts were composed upon the same model. Thin 
 practice seems to have originated in the admira- 
 tion which all the northern nations entertained for 
 their ancient scalds ; and it gave rise to the appel-
 
 [ 128 ] 
 
 lation of minstrel (ministrellus, an officer or ser- 
 vant), which therefore, as Dr Percy has observed 
 in his learned dissertation on this subject, was not 
 strictly synonymous with that of jongleur, or jon- 
 gleur (joculator), called in old English & glee-man, 
 juggler t or jangler ; because the latter might or 
 might not be attached to a particular patron, and 
 frequently travelled from castle to castle, for the 
 purpose of reciting his compositions during the 
 principal festivals. But as it is very difficult for 
 the same person to attain equal excellence in all 
 the sister arts, the professions of the poet, the 
 harper, and the reciter, were afterwards under- 
 taken by several associates, all of whom, on ac- 
 count of the privileges attached to the official min- 
 strels, thought fit to assume the same honourable 
 but equivocal title. 
 
 That these purveyors of poetry and music to the 
 king and principal barons were, during the eleventh, 
 twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, a privileged class, 
 is perfectly certain from the universal testimony of 
 contemporary writers. Indeed they were essential, 
 not only to their amusement, but, in a great mea- 
 sure, to their education ; because even the use of 
 arms,and the management of a horse, were scarcely 
 more necessary to a courteous knight than the 
 talent of playing on the harp, and composing a
 
 [ 129 ] 
 
 song in praise of his mistress. But in the course of 
 the fourteenth century the minstrels, in France 
 at least, had greatly declined in talents and repu- 
 tation. There was a street at Paris, called la Rue 
 St Julien des Menetriers, peculiarly appropriated 
 to their habitation ; and they had a fraternity, or 
 confrerie, in the church of that saint, the well-known 
 patron of hospitality : but these minstrels are de- 
 scribed as a set of pantomimical fiddlers, accompa- 
 nied by monkies or bears, who were hired at wed- 
 dings for the amusement of the guests : so much 
 had they degenerated from the ingenious invent- 
 ors of the fabliaux. 
 
 The history of this order of men in England is, 
 for various reasons, very obscure and embarrassed. 
 On the one hand, it is evident that if English be- 
 gan to be introduced at court as a colloquial lan- 
 guage about the beginning of the fourteenth centu- 
 ry, it was not yet considered, either by our kings, 
 or by the nobles, or by the dignitaries of the church, 
 as fitted for literary purposes : and as our native 
 minstrels, not having yet attempted any original 
 poetry, could only have offered to their courtly 
 audience translations much more barbarous, and 
 at the same time less familiar to their ears, than 
 the compositions of the French trouveurs, it is not 
 
 YOL. I. J
 
 [ 130 ] 
 
 likely that such rivals could have displaced the Nor- 
 man minstrels, already established in the post for 
 which they were candidates. On the other hand, 
 the testimony of Robert deBrunne to the existence 
 of a body of disours, or seggers, accustomed to re- 
 cite English metrical compositions in public, who 
 were listened to with applause, and habituated 
 to make arbitrary alterations in the language or 
 metre of such compositions, is direct and positive. 
 The most obvious solution of this difficulty would 
 be to suppose, that the more opulent inhabitants 
 of the towns, in imitation of their superiors, had 
 adopted the mode of introducing at their banquets 
 the amusements of music and recitation, and thus 
 laid the foundation of a native minstrelsy on the 
 French model ; and this order of men,being once es- 
 tablished, might,on the decline of the rival language, 
 find their way to the castles of our nobility; to which 
 they would be recommended by their previous ex- 
 hibitions at the neighbouring fairs, where they never 
 failed to appear as attendants on the merchants. 
 
 Indeed we have numerous proofs of their in- 
 creasing popularity; for Chaucer, in his address 
 to his Troilus and Cressida, tells us that it was in- 
 tended to be read " or elles sung," which must 
 relate to the chanting recitation of the minstrels ;
 
 C 13J ] 
 
 and a considerable part of our old poetry is simply- 
 addressed to an audience, without any mention of 
 readers. 
 
 That our English minstrels at any time united 
 all the talents of the profession, and were at once 
 poets, and reciters, and musicians, is extremely 
 doubtful : but that they excited and directed the 
 efforts of their contemporary poets to a particular 
 species of composition, is as evident as that a body 
 of actors must influence the exertions of theatri- 
 cal writers. They were, at a time when reading 
 and writing were rare accomplishments, the prin- 
 cipal medium of communication between authors 
 and the public ; and their memory in some mea- 
 sure supplied the deficiency of manuscripts, and 
 probably preserved much of our early literature till 
 the invention of printing : so that their history, if 
 it could be collected, would be by no means unin- 
 teresting. But our materials for this purpose are 
 too scanty to enable us to ascertain the date of 
 their formation, their progress, or their disappear- 
 ance. Judging from external evidence, we should 
 be disposed to place the period of their greatest 
 celebrity a little before the middle of the fifteenth 
 century ; because at that time our language had 
 been successively improved by the writings of 
 Gower, Chaucer, and Lydgate : much wealth and
 
 [ 132 ] 
 
 luxury had been introduced by the two victorious 
 reigns of Edward III. and Henry V., and the 
 country had not yet suffered any distress either 
 from internal revolution, or from the length and 
 disastrous termination of the war with France. 
 The general poverty and discontent that prevailed 
 during the subsequent period, the declension of 
 chivalry, and the almost utter extirpation of our 
 principal nobles, during the contest between the 
 houses of York and Lancaster, must have been fatal 
 to the prosperity of the minstrels ; and two causes 
 of a different nature, viz. the invention of printing 
 in 14-74, and the taste for religious disputation in- 
 troduced by Henry VIII., may have tended to com- 
 plete their ruin. 
 
 Though the minstrel character be now lost both 
 in England and France, the traces of it are not 
 universally effaced. In Wales, the modern harper 
 is occasionally found to possess the accomplish- 
 ments of the ancient bard ; and among the Ita- 
 lians, the improvisatori of Rome and Florence, 
 who are usually ready to attend the table of a tra- 
 veller, and greet him with an extemporary poem 
 on any subject which he shall prescribe, and pro- 
 tracted to a length which is only measured by his 
 patience, are no bad representations of the antique 
 minstrels ; particularly when they are accompanied
 
 C 133 ] 
 
 (as frequently happens) by an attendant musician, 
 who gives the tone to their recitative, and fills up 
 the pauses between the stanzas by a few notes on 
 his instrument. The third character, or disour, is 
 also to be found in many parts of Italy, but par- 
 ticularly at Venice ; where, mounted on a tem- 
 porary scaffolding, or sometimes on a stool or 
 barrel, he recites from memory whole cantos of 
 Ariosto. 
 
 The situation of a minstrel prescribed to him the 
 choice of his subject. Addressing himself to an 
 audience who lived only for the purpose of fight- 
 ing, and who considered their time as of little va- 
 lue when otherwise employed, he was sure of be- 
 ing listened to with patience and credulity so long 
 as he could tell of heroes and enchanters : and he 
 could be at no loss for either, because the histo- 
 ries of all the heroes and enchanters that the 
 world had produced were to be found in a few 
 volumes of easy access. 
 
 As vanity is not easily subdued, a people who 
 are not quite satisfied with their present insigni- 
 ficance will often be tempted to indemnify them- 
 selves by a retrospective warfare on their enemies ; 
 and will be the more prodigal in assigning triumphs 
 to their heroic ancestors, because those who in 
 former ages contested the battle can no longer be
 
 brought forward to dispute the claim of victory. 
 This will explain the numerous triumphs of KING 
 ARTHUR. We have already seen, that a book in the 
 British tongue, containing the relation of his ex- 
 ploits, and those of his knights of the round table, 
 and of his faithful enchanter, Merlin, together 
 with the antecedent history of the British kings 
 from the destruction of Troy, was by Walter, Arch- 
 deacon of Oxford, a learned antiquary of those 
 days, confided to GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH, a 
 Welsh Benedictine monk, afterwards the Bishop 
 St Asaph, who translated it into Latin, with some 
 additions and interpolations. The French transla- 
 tions of Wace and Rusticien de Pise,* and the 
 Saxon and English versions of Layamon and Ro- 
 bert de Brunne, laid open this mass of history to 
 readers of every description. 
 
 A second work, equally abounding in marvellous 
 adventures, and apparently written about the same 
 time with Geoffrey of Monmouth's chronicle, is 
 THE HISTORY OF CHARLEMAGNE AND THE 
 TWELVE PEERS OF FRANCE, forged under the 
 name of TURPIN, a monk of the eighth century, 
 who, for his services against the Saracens, was 
 raised to the archbishoprick of Rheims. The real 
 author was perhaps a Spaniard. This work was 
 Vide supra, p. 44.
 
 [ 135 ] 
 
 translated from Latin into French by Michael de 
 Harnes, in 1207. * 
 
 The third source of romantic fiction was THE 
 HISTORY OF TROY. Homer's works were unknown 
 at the period of which we are speaking, but the 
 story was kept alive in two Latin pieces, which 
 passed under the names of DARES PHRYGIUS, and 
 DICTYS CRETENSIS; and from these, as we have 
 already seen, a French poem on the Trojan war had 
 been compiled by Benoit de St More, the con- 
 temporary and rival of Wace. A more improved 
 compilation from the same sources, under the title 
 of Historia de Bella Trojano, comprehending the 
 Theban and Argonautic stories, from Ovid, Sta- 
 tius, and Valerius Flaccus, was written by GUIDO 
 DE COLONNA, a native of Messina, about the year 
 1260. 
 
 ALEXANDER THE GREAT was known to the 
 writers of romance not only by translations from 
 Quintus Curtius, an author much admired in the 
 middle ages, but also by a work much better suited 
 to the purposes of the historians of chivalry, origi- 
 
 * Mr Ritsoo says that Michael de Harnes did not tran- 
 slate the pseudo-Turpin's History of Roland's achievements 
 in Spain, but a very different work, comprehending the ad- 
 ventures of another of Charlemagne'* knights, viz. Kenaud 
 de Montauban.
 
 C 136 ] 
 
 nally written in Persic, and translated into Greek, 
 under the assumed name of Calisthenes, by SIMEON 
 SETH, keeper of the wardrobe at Constantinople 
 to the emperor Michael Ducas, about the year 
 1070. Such a narrative could not fail of obtain- 
 ing a very general circulation. A Latin transla- 
 tion of it is quoted by Giraldus Cambrensis ; and 
 the famous Roman <P Alexandre, written (as Fau- 
 chet tell us) about the year 1200, by four confe- 
 derates " en jonglerie," appears to be partly a pa- 
 raphrase of that translation. 
 
 THESE FOUK WORKS may be considered as the 
 foundation on which was erected the vast Gothic 
 fabric of romance ; and materials for the super- 
 structure were readily found in an age when anec- 
 dotes and apologues were thought very necessary 
 even to discourses delivered from the pulpit, and 
 when all the fables that could he gleaned from an- 
 cient writings, or from the relations of travellers, 
 were collected into story-books, and preserved by 
 the learned for that purpose. 
 
 TheGESTARoMANORUM, a work of this descrip- 
 tion, which is still very common, appears to have 
 had so great an influence on the literature of Eu- 
 rope during the romantic ages, that Mr Warton has 
 thought it deserving of a dissertation of ninety -seven 
 pages. He also mentions a manuscript collection
 
 C 137 ] 
 
 of 215 stories, preserved in the Museum, which 
 was evidently compiled by a professed preacher for 
 the use of the monastic societies. The legendary 
 lives of the saints were no bad repositories of anec- 
 dote : and the bards of Armorica, who had sup- 
 plied Geoffrey of Monmouth's regular history, 
 continued to contribute detached fragments, or 
 what we might now call memoirs, of the court of 
 King Arthur, which were successfully converted 
 into French lays and fabliaux. 
 
 If we should search in real history for a model 
 of that imaginary excellence which constituted a 
 hero of romance, we should find it in the person of 
 our Richard I. He was profusely liberal, particu- 
 larly to the minstrels : he was, perhaps, himself a 
 minstrel ; he possessed the most astonishing bodily 
 strength, and the most intrepid valour, sufficiently 
 blended with enthusiasm, and directed to no intel- 
 ligible purpose. The poets whom he patronized, 
 would have been no less deficient in taste than in 
 gratitude, had they failed to place him after his 
 death among the heroes whom he imitated, and 
 perhaps surpassed ; particularly as the materials 
 for his apotheosis were to be found in all languages 
 and countries. Tanner mentions, (says Mr War- 
 ton,) as a poet of England, one Gulielmus Pere- 
 grinus, who accompanied Richard I. into the Holy
 
 [ 138 ] 
 
 Land, and sung his achievements there, in a Latin 
 poem, entitled Odoeporicon Ricardi Regis y dedica- 
 ted to Herbert, Archbishop of Canterbury, and 
 Stephen Turnham, a captain in the expedition. 
 He is called " Poeta per earn aetatem excellens." 
 The French minstrels in Richard's army were so 
 numerous, that the writer of his life would only be 
 embarrassed by the trouble of selection ; and it may 
 be supposed that his romance must have been 
 finished by the middle of the thirteenth century, 
 because it is referred to by Robert of Gloucester 
 as a work already in general circulation. When 
 or by whom it was translated is not known ; but as 
 the exploits of so popular a monarch were likely 
 to find their way into the language of his subjects 
 as soon as the art of rhyming began to be general- 
 ly practised in England, we may safely refer the 
 translation to the reign of Edward II. 
 
 To the same period Mr Warton also assigns the 
 popular stories of SIR Guy, THE SQUIRE OF LOW 
 DEGREE, SIR DEGORE, KING ROBERT OE SICILY, 
 THE KING OF TARS, IPOMEDON, and LA MORT 
 ARTUR ; from all of which he has given us ex- 
 tracts. But as he suspects that they have, in com- 
 mon with the romance of Richard Cceur de Lion, 
 undergone considerable alterations in their lan- 
 guage from frequent transcription, it maybe proper
 
 [ 139 ] 
 
 to dismiss them for the present, and pass on to the 
 only writer of English rhymes in this reign whose 
 name has been transmitted to us, and whose works 
 appear to have been preserved in their original sim- 
 plicity of language ; this is ADAM DA VIE. " He 
 " may be placed," says Mr Warton, " about the 
 " year 1312. I can collect no circumstances of 
 " his life, but that he was marshall of Stratford-le- 
 " bow near London. He has left several poems 
 " never printed, which are almost as forgotten as 
 ' his name. Only one manuscript of these pieces 
 " now remains, which seems to be coeval with its 
 " author." It is in the Bodleian library * (MSS. 
 Laud. I. 74>. fol. membran.), " has been much da- 
 " maged, and on that account is often illegible." 
 
 Adam Davie's \york consist of Visions ; The 
 Battle of Jerusalem ; The Legend of St Alexius ; 
 Scripture Histories ; Ofjifteen Tokens before the 
 Day of Judgment ; Lamentations of Souls ; and 
 THE LIFE OF ALEXANDER. This last is his prin- 
 cipal work, and, as we are told, well deserves to be 
 printed entire. It is founded on Simeon Seth's 
 history, lately mentioned, but with many passages 
 
 * Mr Warton afterwards pointed out another MS. of 
 the Life of Alexander in the library of Lincoln's Inn. (Hist. 
 of ],. P. Vol. III. xxxiii.) from which a transcript has 
 been lately made with a view to publication. 
 
 12
 
 C HO ] 
 
 that are apparently borrowed from the French Ro- 
 man d'Alexandre. 
 
 The following is the description of a splendid 
 procession made by Queen Olympias : 
 
 * In this time, fair andjolyf, * 
 Olympias, that faire wife, 
 Woulde make a nchejest 
 Of knightes, and ladies honest, * 
 Of burges, and of jugelers, 
 And of men of each mestirs. s 
 ***** 
 
 Mickle she desireth to shew her body, 
 Her fair hair, her face rody, 
 To have lees, 4 and all praising : 
 And all is folly ! by heaven king ! 
 
 ****** 
 
 In faire attire in diverse quaintise 
 Many there rode in riche wise. 
 So did the dame Olympias 
 For to show her gentil s face. 
 
 * Mr Warton not having transcribed the MS. correctly, 
 these extracts have been revised from the original in the 
 Bodleian. 
 
 1 Pretty. Fr. * Well-bred. Fr. 
 
 3 Trade, occupation. Fr. * Commendation. Fr. 
 
 5 Elegant. Fr.
 
 c HI : 
 
 A mule also, white so milk, 
 With saddle of gold, sambu l of silk, 
 Was y-brought to the queen, 
 And many bell of silver sheen, 
 Y-fasten'd on orfreys of mound* 
 That hangen nigh down to ground. 
 Forth she fared mid her rout ; 
 A thousand ladies of rich soute. J 
 A sparrow-hawk that was honest 
 So sat on the lady's fist. 
 Four trumps toforne her blew ; 
 Many men that day her knew : 
 An hundred thousand, and eke mo, 
 All alouten her unto. 
 All the town be-hanged was, 
 Against the lady Olympias. 
 Orgues, chymbes, each manner glee, * 
 
 1 A saddle-cloth, or housing. Fr. 
 
 a Orfrais, aurifrigium, is gold embroidery. It appears, 
 however, from a passage in Maundevile to have meant a 
 border of embroidery. " And all tho robes ben orfrayed title 
 " abouten. The second thousand is all clothed in clothes 
 " diapered of red silk, all wrought with gold, and the or- 
 ' frayet set full of great pearl," &c. 8vo. edit. p. 279. The 
 meaning of the word mound is not easy to ascertain : does it 
 relate to raised, or emboucd, work ? or docs it mean em- 
 broidery of pure gold, from the French word wonder ? 
 
 3 Suit, apparel. 
 
 * Organs, cymbals, and all sorts of music 1 .
 
 C 1*2 ] 
 
 Was drynan, T ayein * that lady free. 
 Withouteh the townes murey 3 
 Was mered 4 each manner play. 
 There was knights tournaying, 
 There was maidens caroling. 
 There was champions skirming, s 
 ------ also wrestling. 
 
 Of lions* chace, of bear-baiting, 
 
 A bay of boar, of bull slay ting. 
 
 All the city was be-hong 
 
 With rich samytes 6 and pelles 7 long. 
 
 Dame Olympias among this press 
 
 Single rode, all mantle-less. 
 
 #*#### 
 
 Her yellow hair was fair-attired, 
 Mid riche stringes of golde wired ; 
 It helyd 8 her abouten all 
 To her gentile middle small : 
 Bright and shene was her face ; 
 Every fair-head in her was. 
 
 1 Ringing ? drignon, Old Fr. is a chime of bells. Vide 
 La Combe, Diet, du Vieux Lang. 
 
 * Against ; in the presence of. 
 3 Walls. Fr. 
 
 * Probably seen, gazed at ; mir. Fr. 
 
 5 Skirmishing. 
 
 6 Satins. Fr. 
 
 9 Palls, or perhaps furs ; pelisses, Fr. 
 8 Hid. Halan. Sax.
 
 [ 143 ] 
 
 The following is part of a description of a battle : 
 
 Alexander made a cry hardy, 
 " Ore tost, aby, aby /" f 
 Then the knights of Achaye 
 Justed with hem of Arabye : 
 
 ****** 
 
 Egypt justed with hem of Tyre ; 
 Simple knight with riche sire ; 
 There n'asjbregift neforberyng 
 Between vavasoure* ne king. 
 Tqfore 3 men mighten and behind 
 Cuntek * seek, and cuntek find. 
 With Persians foughten the Gregeys : s 
 There rose cry, and great honteys ! 6 
 * * * * 
 
 There might knight find his peer ; 
 There les 7 many his destrere. * 
 There was quick in little thraiuc 9 
 Many gentil knight y-slawe. 
 Many arme, many heved 19 
 Sone from the body reaved. 
 Many gentle lavcdy 
 There lese quick her amy, 
 
 1 Perhaps (he same as abois; the cry when (lie stag is taken. 
 * Servant. 3 Before. * Contest. 
 
 5 Greeks; Grtgeoii. FT. 6 Shame. Fr. ? Lost. Sar. 
 8 War-horse. Fr.j BO called from its being led on tlic 
 right hand. 9 Time. JJeacl.
 
 There was many maym x y-led, 
 Many fair pensel * be-bled ; 
 There was swerdes liklakyng, 5 
 There was speres bathing, 4 
 Both kings there sans doute 
 Beeth in dash'd with all her route. 
 * * * * 
 
 Many landes near and far 
 Lesen her lord in that war. 
 The earth quaked of her riding : 
 The weather thicked of her crying : 
 The blood of hem that weren y-slaive 
 Ran by floodes to the lowe. s 
 The procession of Olympias, described in the first 
 of these specimens, is given by Gower (Conf. Am. 
 fol. 137 ; edit. 1532,) but is by no means equal in 
 spirit, or elegance, to the picture drawn by Adam 
 Davie : and we probably should search in vain 
 among our poets anterior to Chaucer for lines so 
 full of animation as the four last in the preceding 
 extract. The language, as far as we can judge from 
 the specimens selected by Mr Warton, is exactly 
 such as we should expect, and marks that popularity 
 
 1 Maimed. * Standard. Fr. 3 Clashing. An unusual 
 word, like cliquetzs, Fr. from which it is, perhaps, derived. 
 
 * Perhaps here is an omission by the transcriber, and 
 the line should run thus : " There was spears in blood bath- 
 ing," otherwise we do not know what the kings and their 
 route dusitcd into. 
 
 5 Low, i. e, to the low grounds.
 
 [ 145 ] 
 
 which French phrases were beginning to acquire, 
 and which continued to increase during the whole 
 of the following reign. Upon the whole, it is cer- 
 tainly to be wished that some editor may be found, 
 who shall have the courage to decipher the obso- 
 lete manuscript of Adi;m Davie's romance of Alex- 
 ander, and give it entire to the public. 
 
 A poet named ROBERT B ASTON, a carmelite 
 friar of Scarborough, is mentioned as attending 
 Edward II. to the siege of Stirling castle. He was 
 taken prisoner by the Scots, and compelled, for his 
 ransom, to write a panegyric on Robert Bruce. 
 This was probably in English ; and he is described 
 by Bale as the author of " Poemata et Rhythmi, 
 Lib. I." and " Tragaediae Vulgares, Lib. I.;" but his 
 only poem now extant, viz. An Account of the 
 Siege of Stirling Castle, is written in Latin monkish 
 hexameters. It is not easy to understand what Bale 
 meant by " tragaediae," which word does not always 
 imply scenic representations. It appears, indeed, 
 that before the reign of Edward II. many scrip- 
 tural histories in dialogue were exhibited in our 
 churches under the name of mysteries or miracles, 
 but these dialogues were not poems ; on the other 
 hand, many poems were written about this period 
 under the name of tragedies and comedies, but 
 these poems were not in dialogue. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Reign of Edward III. The Hermit of Ham- 
 pole. Laurence Minot. Pierce Plough- 
 man's Vision Specimen of the Vision. 
 Pierce the Ploughman's Creed Specimen. 
 
 J. HE first English poet that occurs in the reign of 
 Edward III. is RICHARD ROLLE, hermit of theorder 
 of St Augustine, and doctor of divinity, who lived 
 a life of solitude near the nunnery of Hampole, 
 four miles from Doncaster, in Yorkshire. He was 
 a very popular and learned though inelegant writer 
 in Latin on theological subjects; and his pretensions 
 to the character of an English poet are founded on 
 a metrical Paraphrase of the Book of Job, of the 
 Lord's Prayer, of the seven Penitential Psalms, and 
 THE PRICKE OF CONSCIENCE, all of which are in 
 MS. and usually attributed to him. This latter 
 piece is divided into seven parts : I. Of Man's 
 Nature. II. Of the World. III. Of Death. IV. Of 
 Purgatory. V. Of the Day of Judgment. VI. Of 
 the Torments of Hell. VII. Of the Joys of Heaven. 
 Mr Warton, however, suspects that they were all 
 translated by contemporary poets from the Latin 
 prose original composed by him ; and he has proved
 
 [ 147 ] 
 
 by a long extract that they are not worth transcri- 
 bing.* The Hermit of Hampole died in 1349. 
 
 The next poet in succession is LAURENCE Mi- 
 NOT, whose name was unknown to our antiqua- 
 ries, till Mr Tyrwhitt, in searching after the ma- 
 nuscript of Chaucer,accidentally discovered a copy 
 of his works, consisting of a collection of poems 
 upon the events of the former part of this reign. It 
 is sufficient in this place to have mentioned his 
 name, as a very elegant edition of his works, ac- 
 companied with all the illustrations that could be 
 drawn from contemporary history, has within these 
 very few years been published by Mr Ritson. 
 
 Laurence Minot appears to have flourished about 
 the year 1350, a few years after which was written 
 the very curious poem called THE VISION OF 
 PIERCE PLOWMAN. Its reputed author is ROBERT 
 LANGLAND, a secular priest, born at Mortimer's 
 Cleobury, in Shropshire, and fellow of Oriel College, 
 Oxford.f His work is divided into twenty distinct 
 
 * Mr Ilitson, notwithstanding, in his " Bibliographia 
 I'oetica" (where he enumerates no less than seventeen 
 pieces attributed to our author) asserts Haropole's claim* 
 upon the express authority of Lydgate. 
 
 t That Robert Langlund was the author of this work 
 teems to have been solely admitted on the authority of 
 Crowley, its earliest editor. The only remaining evidence 
 on the subject appears to indicate that the writer's name 
 was William . but a discussion which ran only end iu nncet 
 tainty is not worth undertaking.
 
 C 148 ] 
 
 passus, or breaks, forming a series of visions, which 
 he supposes to have appeared to him while he was 
 asleep after a fatiguing walk amongst the Malvern 
 Hills in Worcestershire. 
 
 A dream is certainly the best excuse that can 
 be offered for the introduction of allegorical per- 
 sonages, and for any incoherences that may result 
 from the conduct of a dialogue carried on between 
 such fanciful actors : and it must be confessed that 
 this writer has taken every advantage of a plan so 
 comprehensive and convenient, and has dramatized 
 his subject with great ingenuity. His work may 
 be considered as a long moral and religious dis- 
 course, and, as such, is full of good sense and piety ; 
 but it is farther rendered interesting by a succes- 
 sion of incidents, enlivened sometimes by strong 
 satire, and sometimes by the keenest ridicule on 
 the vices of all orders of men, and particularly of 
 the religious. It is ornamented also by many fine 
 specimens of descriptive poetry, in which the genius 
 of the author appears to great advantage. 
 
 But his most striking peculiarity is the structure 
 of his versification, which is the subject of a very 
 learned and ingenious essay in the second volume 
 of the " Reliques of Ancient English Poetry." His 
 verses are not distinguished from prose either by a 
 determinate number of syllables, or by rhyme, or 
 indeed by any other apparent test, except the stu-
 
 [ 149 ] 
 
 died recurrence of the same letter three times in 
 each line ; a contrivance which we should notsus- 
 spect of producing much harmony, but to which (as 
 Crowley, the original editor of the poem, justly ob- 
 serves) even a modern ear will gradually become 
 accustomed. This measure is referred by Dr Percy 
 to one of the 136 different kinds of metre which Wor- 
 mius has discovered amongst the works of the Islan- 
 dic poets ; but the principal difficulty is to account 
 for its adoption in Pierce Ploughman's Vision. 
 
 Perhaps this alliterative metre, having become 
 a favourite with the northern scalds during the in- 
 terval which elapsed between the departure of the 
 Anglo-Saxons from Scandinavia and the subse* 
 quent migration of the Danes, may have been in- 
 troduced by the latter into those provinces of Eng- 
 land where they established themselves ; and being 
 adopted by the numerous body of minstrels, for 
 which those provinces were always distinguished, 
 may have maintained a successful struggle against 
 the Norman ornament of rhyme, which was uni- 
 versally cultivated by the poets of the south. This 
 at least seems to be suggested by Mr Tyrwhitt, 
 who observes that Giraldus Cambrensis describes 
 by the name of annomination what we now call 
 alliteration, and informs us that it was highly fa- 
 shionable amongst the English, and even the Welsh
 
 [ 150 ] 
 
 poets of his time. That it effectually stood its 
 ground in some parts of the kingdom during the 
 reign of Edward III. and long afterwards, appears 
 from the numerous imitations of Langland's style 
 which are still preserved ; and it is evident that a 
 sensible and zealous writer in the cause of religion 
 and morality was not likely to sacrifice those great 
 objects, together with his own reputation, to the 
 capricious wish of inventing a new, or of giving 
 currency to an obsolete mode of versification. 
 
 Mr Warton is of opinion, that " this imposed c'on- 
 " straint of seeking identical initials, and the affec- 
 " tation of obsolete English, by demanding a con- 
 " stant and necessary departure from the natural 
 " and obvious forms of expression, while it cir- 
 " cumscribed the powers of our author's genius, 
 " contributed also to render his manner extremely 
 *' perplexed, and to disgust the reader with obscu- 
 " rities." Bat it may be doubted whether a work 
 apparently addressed to the plain sense of common 
 readers was written with an affectation of obsolete 
 English ; and much of its obscurity may perhaps 
 be ascribed to the negligence of the transcriber of 
 the MS. from which the printed copy is taken. 
 Neither is it certain that the " imposed constraint 
 of seeking identical initials" is at all more embar- 
 rassing to those whose ear is accustomed to such a
 
 C 151 ] 
 
 scheme of poetry, than the imposed constraint of 
 identical Jinal sounds ; a constraint which, by ex- 
 acting from the author greater attention to the 
 mode of expressing his thoughts, is rather likely 
 to increase than to diminish the precision and clear- 
 ness of his language. 
 
 The following extract will give a good general 
 idea of this author's manner, because it contains 
 some of those practical and simple precepts in 
 which he so much abounds, and a little accidental 
 ridicule of physicians, together with a very curious 
 picture of the domestic economy of the poor of this 
 country in the middle of the fourteenth century. 
 It is a scene in which Pierce Ploughman, the fa- 
 vourite character of the piece, addresses himself 
 to Hunger, and (to use the expressions in the mar- 
 gin of the original) " prayeth Hunger to teach 
 " him a leech-craft for him and for his servant." 
 
 1 wot well, quoth Hunger, what sickness you 
 
 ailetli : 
 Ye have manged ' over much ; and that maketh 
 
 you groan. 
 And I hole* thee, quoth Hunger, as thou thy heal * 
 
 wiliest, 
 That thou drink no day ere thou dine somewhat : 
 
 1 Eaten, Fr. a Advie, exhort. 3 Health.
 
 [ 132 ] 
 
 Eat not, I hote thee, ere Hunger thee take 
 And send thee of his sauce to saviour with thy lips : 
 And keep some 'till supper-time, and sk not too 
 
 long, 
 
 And rise up ere appetite have eaten his fill. 
 Let not Sir Surfeit sit on thy board : 
 Leve J him not, for he is lecherous 'and licorous of 
 
 tongue, 
 And after many manner of meat his maw is a- 
 
 hunger'd. 
 
 And if thou diet thee thus, I dare lay my ears 
 That Physic shall his furred hood for his food sell, 
 And his cloak of Calabrye, * with all his knaps 3 of 
 
 gold, 
 
 And be fain, by my faith, his physic to let 4 
 And learn to labour with hand ; for live-lode s is 
 
 sweet. 
 
 For murderers are many leeches : Lord hem amend ! 
 They do men die by their drinks, ere destiny it 
 
 would. 
 
 1 Believe. Sax. 
 
 a The physicians of the middle ages were principally 
 Jews, who learnt their art from the Arabians. A consi- 
 derable colony of this people was established in the king- 
 dom of JVaples. The medical school of Salerno is well 
 known. 
 
 3 Buttons. Sax. ; literally knobs. 4 To leave. 
 
 5 Life-leading; we now say livelihood.
 
 C 153 ] 
 
 By St Paul, (quod Pierce) these are profitable 
 
 words ! 
 Wend thee, Hunger, when thou wilt, yet well be 
 
 thou ever ! 
 For this is a lovely lesson, Lord it thee fbr-yield ! 
 
 Bihote 1 God ! (quod Hunger) hence ne will I 
 wend 
 Till I have dined by this day, and drunken both. 
 
 I have no penny, (quod Pierce) pullets for to buy, 
 Ne neither goose, negrys ; * but two green cheeses, 
 A few curds, and cream, and an haver-cake J 
 And two loaves of beans and bran, bake for my folk. 
 And yety 4 I say by my soul, I have no salt bacon, 
 Ne no cokeney, * by Christ ! collops for to make- 
 And I have parsley, andporets, 6 and many cole- 
 
 plants, 
 
 And eke a cow and a calf, and a cart- mare 
 To draw a-field my dung the while the drought 
 
 lasteth ; 
 
 And by this live-lod I must live 'till Lammas time. 
 By that, I hope to have harvest in my croft ; 
 And then 1 may dig/it " my dinner as my dear liketh. 
 
 1 If God permit? z Gryce, pig. I)anuat\ue Glos. 
 
 ' Oat-cake. 4 Still farther. * Cook. 6 Leeks, Fr. 
 " Drets tny dinner as me plea&etb."
 
 [ 154 ] 
 
 And all the poor people tho peas-cods fet; 
 Beans and baken apples they brought in her laps, 
 Chyboles, * and chervil, and ripe cherries many, 
 And proffer'd Pierce this present to please with 
 Hunger. 
 
 (" Poor folk feed Hunger" marginal note.) 
 
 All Hunger ate in haste, and asked after more. 
 Then poor folk, for fear, fed Hunger yern * 
 With green poret, and peasen ; to poison him they 
 thought. 
 
 By that it nighed to harvest ; new corn came to- 
 
 cheaping. 3 
 
 Then was folk/azn, 4 and fed Hunger with the best, 
 With good ale, as Glutton taught, and gart s 
 
 Hunger asleep. 
 
 And tho would Waster no work, but wandren 
 
 about ; 
 
 Ne no beggar eat bread that beans in were, 
 But ofcoket 6 and clermatynej or else of clean wheat; 
 
 1 Ciboule. Fr. cipolla. Ital. a species of onion. 
 a Eagerly. Sax. 3 Cheap. 4 Glad. Sax. 
 
 s Made. Sax. 6 A particular sort of bread. 
 
 7 Perhaps another sort of bread used at breakfast.
 
 [ 155 ] 
 
 Ne no half-penny ale in no wise drink, 
 
 But of the best and of the brownest that in burth * 
 
 is to sell. 
 Labourers that have no land to live on but her 
 
 hands 
 
 Deigned not to dine a day night * old luortes : 3 
 May no penny-ale hem pay, nor no piece of bacon ; 
 But if it be fresh flesh, other fish fried either or bake, 
 And that chaud or plus chaud, for chilling of her 
 
 maw, &c. 
 
 [Crowley's first edition, fol. 35. pass, vi.] 
 
 The following passage has the marginal admo- 
 nition, " Read this :" indeed the prediction with 
 which it concludes is very curious. 
 
 And now is Religion a rider, a roamer by street, 
 A leader of lovedays, 4 and a loud beggar, 
 
 1 Booth ? or borough ? 
 
 1 In some editions the word not is omitted, which will 
 only increase the perplexity. The meaning, as the line 
 stands here (from ed. I. 1550), seems to be, that labourers, 
 &c. refused their usual dinner (or rather supper) of old worts 
 or cabbage ; this, however, is strangely expressed. 
 
 3 Cabbage. 
 
 4 Loveday (says Tyrwhitt, note on v. 260 Cant. Tales) is a 
 i!a\ appointed for the amicable settlement of differences.
 
 C 156 ] 
 
 A pricker of a palfrey from manor to manor. 
 
 An heap of hounds at his as he a lord were : 
 
 And but if hisknave ' kneel that shall his cope bring, 
 He loured on him, and asked, who taught him 
 
 courtesy ? 
 Little had lords to done to give lands from her 
 
 heirs 
 To Religious, that have no ruth if it rain on her 
 
 altars. 
 In many places there the parsons be by hemselfat 
 
 ease; 
 Of the poor have they no pity : and that is her 
 
 charity ! 
 And they letten hem as lords, her lands lie so 
 
 broad. 
 AND THERE SHALL COME A KING and confess 
 
 you, Religious, 
 And beat you, as the bible telleth, for breaking of 
 
 your rule, 
 
 And amend monials, * monks, and canons, 
 And put hem to her penance 
 * * # * * 
 
 And then shall the Abbot of Abingdon, and all his 
 
 issue for ever 
 HAVE A KNOCK OF A KING, AND INCURABLE THE 
 
 WOUND. [fol. 50. pass, x.] 
 
 *A male servant * Xuus.
 
 C 157 ] 
 
 The limits of the present publication will not 
 admit of many extracts from this curious work, 
 but the following description, in which Nature 
 or Kind is represented as sending forth diseases 
 from the planets, at the command of Conscience, 
 and of his attendants, Age and Death, is too 
 striking to be omitted ; particularly since it appears 
 to have suggested to Milton his sublime description 
 of the lazar-house (Paradise Lost, B. xi. 1. 4-77-) 
 This coincidence is remarked by Mrs Cooper, in 
 her " Muses' Library." 
 
 Kind i Conscience tho heard, and came out of the 
 
 planets, 
 
 And sent forth hisjbrriours, * fevers, and fluxes, 
 Coughs, and cardiacles, 3 cramps, and tooth-aches, 
 
 ****** 
 
 Boils, and botches, and burning agues, 
 Phrenesis, and foul evil, foragers of Kind ! 
 
 ****** 
 
 There was " Harrow ! and help ! here cometh Kind 
 " With Death that is dreadful to undone us all !" 
 
 ****** 
 
 Age the hoar, he was in the va-ward, 
 
 And bare the banner before Death ; by right he 
 
 it claimed. 
 1 Nature. * Foragers, Fr. 3 Cardialgi*, heart-ache, Gr.
 
 [ 158 ] 
 
 Kind came after, with many keen sores, 
 As pox and pestilences, and much people shent. 
 So Kind, through corruptions, killed full many. 
 Death came driving after, and to dust pashed 
 
 Kings and kaysers, knights and popes. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Many a lovely lady and lemans of knights 
 Swoonden and swelten for sorrow of Death's 
 dints, &c. [Fol. 112. pass, xxi.] 
 
 The editions of Pierce Ploughman that usually 
 occur are those of Crowley, of which, as Dr Percy 
 informs us, there were three published in the same 
 year, 1550. There is also an edition printed in 
 1561, by Owen Rogers, to which is sometimes an- 
 nexed a poem of nearly the same tendency, and 
 written in the same metre, called PIERCE THE 
 PLOUGHMAN'S CREED. * It was evidently com- 
 posed after the death of Wickliffe, which happen- 
 ed in 1384-, and is therefore more modern than 
 many of the poems of Chaucer, but is noticed here 
 on account of its style and subject. 
 
 Mr Warton says, that in a copy of the Creed 
 presented to him by the Bishop of Gloucester, and 
 once belonging to Mr Pope, the latter, in his own 
 hand, has inserted the following abstract of its plan. 
 
 * The first Ed. of P. the IVs Creed was printed by K. 
 Wolfe, in 1553.
 
 [ 159 ] 
 
 " An ignorant plain man having learned his 
 " Paternoster and Ave-mary, wants to learn his 
 " creed. He asks several religious men of the 
 " several orders to teach it him. First of a friar 
 " Minor, who bids him beware of the Carmelites, 
 " and assures him they can teach him nothing, 
 " describing their faults, &c. But that the friars 
 " Minors shall save him, whether he learns his 
 " creed or not. He goes next to the friars Preach- 
 " ers, whose magnificent monastery he describes : 
 " there he meets a fat friar, who declaims against 
 " the Augustines. He is shocked at his pride, and 
 " goes to the Augustines. They rail at the Mino- 
 " rites. He goes to theCarmes ; they abuse theDo- 
 " minicans, but promise him salvation, without the 
 " creed, for money. He leaves them with indigna- 
 " tion, and finds an honest poor PLOWMAN in the 
 " field, and tells him how he was disappointed by 
 " the four orders. The plowman answers with a 
 " long invective against them." 
 
 For the full explanation of this poem it is essential 
 to premise that, in consequence of the many abuses 
 which had gradually perverted the monastic insti- 
 tutions, it became necessary, about the beginning 
 of the thirteenth century, to establish a new class 
 of friars, who, possessing no regular revenues, and 
 relying for a subsistence on the general reverence
 
 [ 160 ] 
 
 which they should attract by superior talent, or 
 severer sanctity of manners, should become the 
 effectual and permanent support of the papal au- 
 thority against those heresies which were beginning 
 to infect the church, as well as against the jealousy 
 of the civil power. The new institution consisted 
 of four mendicant orders : the Franciscans, who 
 were also called friars-minors, or minorites, or 
 grey-friars : the Augustine, or Austin-friars : the 
 Dominicans, or friars-preachers, or black-friars: 
 and the Carmelites, or white-friars. 
 
 For the purpose of quicken ing their zeal,thepopes 
 bestowed on them many new and uncommon' pri- 
 vileges ; the right of travelling where they pleased, 
 of conversing with persons of all descriptions, of 
 instructing youth, and of hearing confessions, and 
 bestowing absolution without reserve : and as these 
 advantages naturally attracted to the privileged 
 orders all the novices who were distinguished by 
 zeal or talent, excited their emulation, and ensured 
 the respect of the people, they quickly eclipsed aH 
 their rivals, and realized the most sanguine hopes that 
 had been entertained from their establishment. 
 
 The mendicant orders of the thirteenth and four- 
 teenth centuries, but particularly the Dominicans, 
 very nearly resembled the Jesuits of modern times. 
 
 In these orders were found the most learned men, 
 3
 
 t 161 ] 
 
 and the most popular preachers of the age. The 
 almost exclusive charge of the national education 
 enabled them to direct the public taste and opi- 
 nions ; the confessional chair placed the consciences 
 of their penitents at their disposal ; and their lead- 
 ing members, having discovered that an association 
 in which individual talents are systematically di- 
 rected to some general purpose is nearly irresisti- 
 ble, soon insinuated themselves into the most im- 
 portant offices of church .and state, and guided at 
 their will the religion and politics of Europe. But 
 prosperity, as usual, made them indolent and im- 
 prudent. They had long been envied and hated, 
 and the progress of general civilization raised up 
 numberless rivals, possessing equal learning, ambi- 
 tion, and versatility of manners, with superior acti- 
 vity and caution. They quarrelled among them- 
 selves, and thus lost the favour and reverence of 
 the people ; and they were at last gradually sink- 
 ing into insignificance, when they were swallowed 
 up in the general wreck of monastic institutions. 
 
 The magnificence of their edifices, which exci- 
 ted universal envy, was the frequent topic of Wick- 
 liffe's invective ; and this poet, who was apparently 
 much attached to the opinions of that reformer, 
 has given us the following elaborate description of 
 a Dominican convent: 
 
 VOL. r. r.
 
 [ 162 ] 
 
 Then thought I tofrayne* the first of these four 
 
 orders ; 
 
 And pressed to the preachers, to proven her will. 
 Ich hied to her house, to hearken of more, 
 And when I came to that court, I gaped about, 
 Such a build bold y-built upon earth height 
 Saw I not, in certain, sith a long time. 
 I seemed* upon that house, andyern 3 thereonlooked, 
 How the pillars weren y-paint, and pulched* full 
 
 clean, 
 
 And quaintly y-carven with curious knots, 
 With windows well y-wrought, wide up aloft ; 
 And then I entered in, and even forth went. 
 And all was walled that toowe, 5 though it wide were, 
 With posterns, in privity to passen when hem list. 
 Orchards and erberes, 6 evesed 7 well clean, 
 And a curious cross craftily entaikd, 8 
 With tabernacles y-tight 9 to toten I0 all abouten. 
 The price of a plough-land, of pennies so round, 
 To apparel that pillar were pure little. 
 
 1 To ask. Sax. * Gazed. 
 
 3 Eagerly. Sax. * Polished. 
 
 5 Habitation. Sax. 6 Arbours. 
 
 7 Turfed ? from waisons (i. e. gazons), old l-'r. ? or is it 
 trimmed, from efecian, tondere. Sax. ? 
 
 8 Carved. Fr. Probably for y-dight. 
 10 Look.
 
 E 163 ] 
 
 Then I tnunte me * forth the minster to knowen, 
 And awaited * tvoon 3 wonderly well y-built. 
 With arches on every half, 4 and bellech J y-carven, 
 With crotchets on corners, with knots of gold. 
 Wide windows y-wrought, y-written full thick, 
 Shining tvith shapen shields, to shewen about, 
 With marks of merchants y-meddled 6 between, 
 Mo than twenty and two, twice y-numbered ; 
 There is none herald that hath half stioich a roll. 
 Right as a rageman 7 hath reckon'd hem new ; 
 Tombs upon tabernacles, tyled upon lofte y 8 
 Housed in homes 9 hard set abouten, 
 Of armed alabaster clad for the nonce, 
 Made upon marble in many manner wise. 
 
 1 Mounted ? * Watched, observed. Fr. 
 
 3 One ? or wane, a habitation ? 
 
 4 Part. 5 Beautifully. Fr. 
 
 6 Y-meddled Is mixed ; the marks of merchants are put 
 in opposition to the shapen shields, because merchants bad 
 no coats of arms. 
 
 7 This word sometimes means simply an accompt : but it 
 here seems to allude to the famous Ragman's roll, and to 
 be put as an antithesis to the herald's roll. 
 
 8 Raised aloft. 
 
 9 Mr Warton supposes that horns may mean irons, i. e, 
 iron rails ; or that, perhaps, we ought to read hurnu, which 
 mean corners, niches, arches. But why not harnft, harness, 
 r. e. armour?
 
 [ 164. ] 
 
 Knights in their conisante* clad for the nonce : 
 All, it seem*d, saints ; y-sacred upon earth ; 
 And lovely ladies y-wrought, layen by her sides, 
 In many gay garments that weren gold-beaten. 
 Though the tax of ten year were truly gathered, 
 N'old it nought maken that house half as I trow. 
 
 Then came I to that cloister, and gaped abouten, 
 How it was pillar 'd, and paint, and pourtray'd well 
 
 clean, 
 
 All y-heled * with lead, low to the stones, 
 And y-paved with poyntil, $ each point after other, 
 With conduits of clean tin, closed all about 
 With lavers of fatten 4 lovely y-greithed. 5 
 I trow, the gainage of the ground in a great shire 
 N'old apparel that place, oo point till other end. * 
 
 Then was the chapter-house wrought as a great 
 
 church, 
 Carven, and cover'd, and quaintly entailed, 
 
 1 Cognisances, devices. 
 
 * Hid, covered. Sax. 
 
 3 Probably lozenge-sbaped stones ; pantiles. 
 
 * A sort of brass. Fr. 
 5 Prepared, adorned. 
 
 * From one end to the other.
 
 C 165 ] 
 
 With seemly cielure y-set on loft, 
 
 As a parliament-house y-painted about. 
 
 Then fared I vatofraytour, * and found there 
 
 another ; 
 
 An hall for an high king, an house-hold to holden ; 
 With broad boards abouten, y-benchcd well clean ; 
 With windows of glass wrought as a church. 
 Then walked Ijhrrer, and went all abouten, 
 And saw halls full high, and houses full noble, 
 Chambers with chimneys, and chapels gay, 
 And kitchens for an high king in castles to holden. 
 And her dortour * y-dight with doors full strong, 
 Fermerye 3 ox\A.fraytour t withye/e 4 mo houses. 
 And all strong stone wall, stern * upon height, 
 With gay garrets, and great, and each hole y-glazed. 
 And other houses enow to harbour the queen. 
 And yet these builders will beggen a bag full of 
 
 wheat 
 
 Of a pure poor man, that may unneth * pay 
 Half his rent in a year, and half been behind. 
 
 [Rogers's ed. sign. A 4. &c.] 
 
 Mr Warton has transcribed a very large portion 
 
 1 Fratry, or common-hall. * Dormitory. Fr. 
 
 1 Infirmary. * Many. Sax. 
 
 ' Strewn, built. G Scarcely.
 
 [ 166 ] 
 
 of this curious poem, which, as he justly observes, 
 is nearly as rare as a manuscript ; but the printed 
 copies, like those of Pierce Ploughman's Vision, 
 seem to be full of typographical errors ; and an 
 editor who should from a collation of MSS. reprint 
 a correct edition of these two forgotten poems 
 would make a valuable addition to our stock of 
 early literature. * 
 
 Langland's work, whatever may be thought of its 
 poetical merit, cannot fail of being considered as an 
 entertaining and useful commentary on the general 
 histories of the fourteenth century, not only from 
 its almost innumerable pictures of contemporary 
 manners, but also from its connection with the 
 particular feelings and opinions of the time. The 
 reader will recollect that the minds of men were 
 greatly incensed by the glaring contradictions that 
 appeared between the professions and actions of 
 the two great orders of the state. 
 
 The clergy of a religion founded on humility and 
 
 * No one is more competent to supply this desideratum 
 than Mr Ritson (vide his Bibliographia Poeticn, pp. 29 
 and 404, for some very valuable information with respect 
 to the MSS. of P. P.'s Vision) ; and it is much to be wish- 
 ed that he could be prevailed upon to add this to the many 
 obligations he has already conferred on the lovers of an- 
 cient English poetry.
 
 [ 167 ] 
 
 self-denial united the most shameless profligacy of 
 manners with the most inordinate magnificence. 
 An armed aristocracy, who by their oath of knight- 
 hood were bound to the maintenance of order, and 
 to the protection of the helpless and unfortunate, 
 were not satisfied with exercising in their own 
 persons the most intolerable oppression on their 
 vassals, but were the avowed protectors of the 
 subordinate robbers and assassins who infested the 
 roads, and almost annihilated the internal inter- 
 course of every country in Europe. The people 
 were driven to despair, flew to arms, and took a 
 most frightful revenge on their oppressors. Various 
 insurrections in Flanders, those of the Jacquerie 
 in France, and those of Wat Tyler and others in 
 England, were the immediate consequences of this 
 despair ; but the popular discontents had been in 
 a great degree prepared and fomented by a set of 
 itinerant preachers, who inveighed against the lux- 
 ury and crimes of the great, and maintained the 
 inalienable rights and natural equality of man. 
 
 Langland's poem, addressed to popular readers, 
 written in simple but energetic language, and ad- 
 mirably adapted, by its dramatic form, and by the 
 employment of allegorical personages, to suit the 
 popular taste, though it is free from these extra- 
 vagant doctrines, breathe* only the pure spirit f
 
 [ 168 3 
 
 the Christian religion, and inculcates the principles 
 of rational liberty. This may possibly have prepared 
 the minds of men for those bolder tenets which, 
 for a series of years, were productive only of 
 national restlessness and misery, but which ulti- 
 mately terminated in a free government and a re- 
 formed religion. 
 
 The reader who may be desirous of seeing farther 
 specimens of alliterative versification, will find in 
 Mr Warton's history some extracts from a Poem 
 on Alexander, written perhaps by a contemporary 
 of Langland, and a Hymn to the Virgin, of much 
 earlier date, neither of which are mentioned in Dr 
 Percy's Essay.
 
 [ 169 ] 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Reign of Edward III. continued. -John 
 Gower Specimens of his Poetry. 
 
 1 HE next place in our poetical history is usually 
 assigned to JOHN GOWER, who is supposed to have 
 been born before Chaucer, although he survived 
 him by two years, and died in 1402. We do not 
 possess any materials for the history of his life ; but 
 it is probable that he was well born ;* and we have 
 
 * There is a remarkable passage in Sir John Fortescue's 
 treatise " de Landihus Legum Angliie," which tends to 
 confirm the popular opinion, that Gower, Chaucer, and 
 Occleve, all of whom received their education at the Tnns 
 of Court, were of noble origin. It is in the 49th chapter, 
 where, after enumerating the necessary expenses incurred 
 by the students at those seminaries, he sa>s, " Quo fit, ut 
 " viz doctus in legibus illis reperiatur in regno ^ui non 
 " tit nobilis et [out*] de nobilium genere egreuus. In his 
 " revera hospitiis, ultr;i studium legum, est quasi g \mna- 
 " sium omnium morum qui nobiles decent. Ibi cantare 
 ' ipsi addiscunt, similiteret steexercent in omni genere har- 
 " monitc ; ibi etiarn tripudiare, ac jocos singulos nobilibus 
 " convenientes, quainter in domo regid exercere sotent, enutriti. 
 " Ita ut milites, barones, alii quoque magnates et nobiles 
 " regni, in hospitiis illis ponunt filios suos," &c. 
 
 8
 
 [ 170 J 
 
 an indirect proof of his wealth as well as of his 
 munificence, because we know that he contributed 
 largely to rebuild, in its present elegant form, the 
 conventual church of St Mary Overee in South- 
 wark, where his very curious tomb still remains. 
 
 It is probable that Gower's earliest compositions 
 were his French ballads, of which fifty are still 
 preserved in a folio MS. formerly belonging to 
 Fairfax, Cromwell's general, and now to be found 
 in the library of the Marquis of Stafford, by whom 
 they were communicated to Mr Warton. These 
 juvenile productions are more poetical and more 
 elegant than any of his subsequent compositions 
 in his native language : perhaps they would not 
 suffer by a comparison with the best contemporary 
 sonnets written by professed French poets : at all 
 events they shew extraordinary proficiency in a 
 foreigner ; for which reason, and because they 
 may be useful for the purpose of comparing the 
 state of the two languages at this period, it is hoped 
 that the reader will forgive the insertion of the 
 following short specimen. It is a sonnet on the 
 month of May. 
 
 Pour comparer ce joli tempts de Mai, 
 Je [le] dirai semblable a Paradis ; 
 Car lors chantoit et merle et pepegai ;
 
 C 171 3 
 
 Les champs sont verds, les herbes sont flcuries ; 
 Lors est Nature dame du pais ; 
 Dont Venus point 1'amant a tel essai 
 Qu'encontre amour nest quipeut dire nai. 
 
 [The second stanza, being scarcely intelligible 
 from the mistakes of the transcriber, is omitted.] 
 
 En lieu de rose ortie cuellerai, 
 Dont mes chapels ferai, par tel devis, 
 Que toute joie et confort je lairrai, 
 Si celle seule en qui j'ai mon cceur mis, 
 Selon le point que j'ai souvent requis 
 Ne daigne alleger les griefs mals que j'ai, 
 Qu'encontre amour n'est quipeut dire nai. 
 
 Pour pitie querre, et pourchasser intris * 
 Va-t'en, balade, oii je t'envoyerai, 
 Qu'ores en certain je 1'ai tres bien appris 
 Qu'encontrc amour n'est qui peut dire nai. 
 
 But the three principal works of our author are 
 the SPECULUM MEDITANTIS, the Vox CLA- 
 MANTIS, and the CONFESSIO AMANTIS, which 
 are represented by the three volumes on his tomb. 
 The first of these is in Trench verse : this was 
 
 ' Entree, i. e. admisbign to the presence of his mistress.
 
 C 172 ] 
 
 never printed.* The Vox CLAMANTIS consists of 
 seven books of Latin elegiacs, written with some 
 degree of purity, and a tolerable attention to the 
 prosody : it is little more than a metrical chronicle 
 
 * Gower's Speculum Meditantit has never, I believe, been 
 seen by any of our poetical antiquaries ; nor does it exist in 
 the Bodleian library. Campbell, the author of Gower's ar- 
 ticle in the Biograpbia r. and Warton, who profess to 
 give an account of its contents, were deceived by the ambi- 
 guity of a reference in Tanner, and, instead of the work in 
 question, describe a much shorter poem, or balade, by the 
 same author. At the end of three very ancient and valua- 
 ble Bodleian !\1SS of the Confcssia Amantis is subjoined a 
 notice (in the Latin of those days) of Gower's three prin- 
 cipal works, possibly written by himself, from which, as it 
 has never (to the best of my knowledge) been hitherto pub- 
 lished, as much as relates to the Speculum is here given for 
 the satisfaction of the curious reader. 
 
 These MSS. may be found in the general Cat. for Engl. 
 and Irel. (Oxf. 1697. folio) by the following references : 
 
 I. Bodl. 3883. Fairfax. MS. 3. [Given by Thos. Lord 
 Fairfax, Cromwell's general. Vide Warton, Emend, and 
 Add. to Vol. II. sign. g. note !>.] 
 
 II. Bodl. 2449. Fletewood. NE. F. 8. 9. 
 
 III. Bodl. 2875. [Given by Dr John King, Dean of 
 Ch. Ch.] This, notwithstanding the catalogue, contains only 
 the Confessio ^mantis. A more modern MS. of the Conf. 
 Am. apparently a transcript of this, with the same Latin 
 memorandum of Gower's works, may be seen in the cat. 
 K. 3357. 
 
 As the three copies vary in the language (though much
 
 of the insurrection of the commons, in the reign of 
 Richard II. This, also, exists only in manuscript. 
 The CONFESSIO AMANTIS, which was printed by 
 Caxton, in 1483, and afterwards by Berthelette, 
 in 1532, and 1554, folio, appears to have been 
 composed at the command of Richard II. who 
 
 less in the account of the French than of the Latin and 
 English poem,) the text of MS. Fairf. is first given, and 
 then the different readings, futile as they may be, from MS. 
 Fletew. and King. 
 
 Quia unusquisque prout a Deo accepit aliis impcrtiri te- 
 netur, Johannes Gower, super his quae Dens sibi scnsnali- 
 ter ' donavit villicationis suoe rationem, dum temptu iiistat* 
 secundum aliquid alleviare cupiens, inter labores et otia ad 
 aliorum notitiam tres 3 libros* doctrinae causa /br/nd snbse- 
 quenti propterea compusuit. 5 
 
 Primus liber, Gallico sermone editus, in dccem dividitur 
 paries, ct tractans de vitiis et virtutibus, necnon et de variis 
 hujus ittciili gradibtu, 6 viam 7 qu& peccator transgresses ad 
 tul Creatoris agnitionem redire defiet recto tremite docere co- 
 notttr. 8 Titulusque libelli istius Speculum Meditantis 9 nun- 
 cnpatus est. 
 
 1 Inlellectualiter. King. 
 
 * These three words wanting in Fletew. 
 
 3 TTCS prtecipue libros. Fletew. 
 
 4 Per iptum dum viiit doctr. Fletew. 
 
 5 Instead of these words, Fletew. has compositos ad alio* 
 rum notitiam in lucem seriose produiit. 
 
 6 These words are not in Fletew. 
 
 7 Viam prcccipue qua. 
 
 8 Fletew. has instead, in penitendo Christi misericordiarr. 
 nuequi polcrit lot& mentit devotione _finaliter contemplatur. 
 
 9 Midiantit. Fletew. Hominit. King.
 
 C m 3 
 
 having met our poet rowing on the Thames near 
 London, invited him into the royal barge, and, af- 
 ter much conversation, requested him to " book 
 " some new thing." 
 
 It is rather extraordinary that Mr Warton, wh 
 repeats this anecdote, should have passed it over 
 without a comment; because, having previously 
 told us that Gower, " by a critical cultivation of 
 " his native language, laboured to reform its irre- 
 " gularities, and to establish an English style," he 
 might naturally have been tempted to inquire, why 
 this style was never employed till the poet was past 
 fifty years of age. Perhaps the circumstance may 
 be partly explained by a remark of Mr Tyrwhitt, 
 who observes that Edward III. was insensible even 
 to the poetical merits of Chaucer himself, " or at 
 " least had no mind to encourage him in the cul- 
 " tivation or exercise of them." He adds, " It 
 " should seem that Edward, though adorned with 
 " many Royal and Heroic virtues, had not the gift 
 " of discerning and patronizing a great poet ; a gift 
 " which, like that of genuine poetry is only be- 
 " stowed on the chosen few by the peculiar favour 
 " of heaven." It is very certain that the gift of 
 discerning the merits of a great English poet might 
 have been bestowed on Edward by the peculiar 
 favour of heaven, but it ma} 7 be doubted whether
 
 [ 175 ] 
 
 he could reasonably be expected to possess it rttih- 
 out such a special interposition. 
 
 It is to be remembered, that French had hitherto 
 been the only language that was studied, though 
 English was certainly not quite unknown at court ; 
 that Isabella, the mother of Edward, was a French 
 woman ; that he was sent to Paris at the very ear- 
 ly age of thirteen, to assist her in her negociations 
 with her brother the king of France ; that he was 
 married by her means to Philippa, a princess of 
 Hainault ; that he was only fifteen years old when 
 he mounted the throne ; and that, after this pe- 
 riod, the active scenes in which he was incessantly 
 engaged were not likely to allow him much lei- 
 sure for the purpose of completing his education. 
 He began his reign two years before the birth of 
 Chaucer, and could then have seen no specimens ' 
 of English poetry superior to the dry chronicles of 
 Kobert of Gloucester. It may be presumed, there- 
 fore, that if he read any poetry it would be that of 
 the French minstrels ; and that his preference of 
 their compositions to those of his countrymen was 
 no great disparagement to his taste may be infer- 
 red from the testimony of Chaucer himself, who 
 ays, in the envoi to bis Complaint of Venus,
 
 C 176 ] 
 
 " And eke to me it is a great pentince, 
 
 " Sith rhyme in English hath such scarcity, 
 " To follow word by word the curiosity 
 
 " Of Graunson, flower of hem that make in France" 
 
 What was worth the penance of translating cer- 
 tainly deserved to be consulted in the original. 
 
 But political motives induced Edward to discou- 
 rage the cultivation of French, the language of his 
 enemies. Our native poetry received considerable 
 improvements in the course of his long reign ; and 
 his grandson, who found it in this cultivated state, 
 and who was, perhaps, acquainted with Gower's 
 poetical talents by means of his French sonnets 
 already mentioned, may have naturally been soli- 
 citous that he should employ them in some English 
 composition. 
 
 To return to the Confessio Amantis. This poem 
 is a long dialogue between a lover and his confessor, 
 who is a priest of Venus, and is called Genius. As 
 every vice is in its nature unamiable, it ought to 
 follow that immorality is unavoidably punished by 
 the indignation of the fair sex; and that every fortu- 
 nate lover must, of necessity, be a good man and a 
 good Christian ; and upon this presumption, which, 
 perhaps, is not strictly warranted by experience, 
 the confessor passes in review all the defects of the
 
 C 177 ] 
 
 human character, and carefully scrutinizes the 
 heart of his penitent with respect to each, before 
 he will consent to give him absolution. 
 
 Because example is more impressive than precept, 
 he illustrates his injunctions by a series of apposite 
 tales, with the morality of which our lover professes 
 to be highly edified ; and, being of a more inquisitive 
 turn than lovers usually are, or perhaps hoping to 
 subdue his mistress by directing against her the 
 whole artillery of science, he gives his confessor 
 an opportunity of incidentally instructing him in 
 chemistry and in the Aristotelian philosophy. At 
 length, all the interest that he has endeavoured to 
 excite, by the long and minute details of his suffer- 
 ings, and by manifold proofs of his patience, is 
 rather abruptly and unexpectedly extinguished ; 
 for he tells us, not that his mistress is inflexible or 
 faithless, but that he is arrived at such a good old 
 age that the submission of his fair enemy would not 
 have been sufficient for ensuring his triumph. 
 
 Through this elaborate work Gower appears to 
 have distributed all the contents of his common- 
 place book, and Mr Warton has traced back many 
 of these fragments to the obscure sources from 
 whence they were derived. These are (besides 
 Colonna's romantic history of Troy, and the Gesta 
 Romanorum, already mentioned, which, with the 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 C 178 ] 
 
 romance of Sir Lancelot, though histories of a less 
 general nature, Gower seems more immediately to 
 have followed in some of his tales ;) the Pantheon, 
 or Memoriae Sectdorum, a Latin chronicle, written 
 partly in prose and partly in verse, by Godfrey of 
 Viterbo, who died in 1190 ; the Speculum Regum 
 of the same author ; the Chronicle of Cassiodorus, 
 called Chronicon breve, written at the command of 
 Theodoric king of the Goths ; and the Chronicle of 
 Isidorus, called Hispalensis. " It is extremely pro- 
 " bable," says Mr Warton, " that the plan on 
 " which they are all constructed, that of deducing 
 " a perpetual history from the creation to the wri- 
 " ter's age, was partly taken from Ovid's Meta- 
 " morphoses, and partly from the Bible." 
 
 For the scieatific part of his work Gower was 
 most probably indebted to a spurious work attri- 
 buted to Aristotle, called Secretum Secretorum, 
 and to the Latin original of a treatise called Les 
 Dictes moraux des Philosophes, les Dictes des Sages, 
 et les Secrets d'Aristote, which was afterwards 
 translated into English by the unfortunate Anthony 
 Widville, first Earl of Rivers. 
 
 Chaucer, who knew and loved our poet, has 
 comprised his character in a single epithet, and 
 every reader must concur in the judgment of this 
 great contemporary critic. While he is satisfied
 
 C 179 ] 
 
 with being " the moral Gower" he always appears 
 to advantage ; he is wise, impressive, and sometimes 
 almost sublime. The good sense and benevolence 
 of his precepts, the solemnity with which they are 
 enforced, and the variety of learning by which they 
 are illustrated, make us forget that he is preaching 
 in masquerade, and that our excellent instructor is 
 a priest of Venus. But his narrative is often quite 
 petrifying ; and when we read in his work the tales 
 with which we had been familiarized in the poems 
 of Ovid, we feel a mixture of surprize and despair 
 at the perverse industry employed in removing 
 every detail on which the imagination had been 
 accustomed to fasten. The author of the Metamor- 
 phoses was a poet, and at least sufficiently fond of 
 ornament : Gower considers him as a mere anna- 
 list ; scrupulously preserves his facts ; relates them 
 with great perspicuity ; and is fully satisfied when 
 he has extracted from them as much morality as 
 they can be reasonably expected to furnish. 
 
 The popularity of this writer is, perhaps, not 
 very likely to revive : but, although few modern 
 readers will be tempted to peruse a poem of mere 
 than thirty thousand verses, written in obsolete 
 English, without being allured by the hopes of 
 more entertainment than can easily be derived 
 from the Confessio Amantis, there are parts of the
 
 C 180 ] 
 
 work 1 which might very probably be reprinted with 
 advantage. Such are, the tale in folio 70, (edit. 
 1532,) beginning, "of Armenye I rede thus:" the 
 tale in folio 85, from which Shakspeare has pro- 
 bably taken his incident of the caskets in the Mer- 
 chant of Venice : a fable in folio 110, beginning, 
 " To speak of an unkind man :" the story of a 
 Faun and Hercules, folio 122, beginning, " The 
 " mightiest of all men ;" that of Nectanabus and 
 Olympias, folio 137 : and the beautiful romantic tale 
 of Appollynus Prince of Tyre, folio 175 to 185. It is 
 also to be observed, that the fourth and seventh books, 
 containing a very good compendium of nearly all 
 the learning of the age, may be worth consulting. 
 
 It is usual to couple the names of Gower and 
 Chaucer, as if these contemporary poets had pos- 
 sessed similar talents : the fairest method, therefore, 
 to form an estimate of both, will be to give from 
 the one a subject which has been attempted by the 
 other. Gower's Florent, which he appears to have 
 taken from the Gesta Romanorum, is generally 
 supposed to be the original of Chaucer's Wife of 
 Bath's Tak. The story has considerable merit ; and 
 it is told in Gower's best manner. These reasons, 
 it is hoped, will excuse the insertion of so long a 
 specimen from an author who was once extremely 
 popular, and whom we have been accustomed to
 
 [ 181 ] 
 
 venerate, upon trust, as one of the fathers of Eng- 
 lish poetry. * 
 
 There was, whilom, by dayes old, 
 A worthy knight, as menne told ; 
 He was nephew to the emperor, 
 And of his court a courtier : 
 Wife-less he was, Florent he hight. 
 He was a man that mochel x might : * 
 Of armes he was desirous, 
 Chevalerous, and amorous, 
 And, for the fame of worlde's speech, 
 Strange aventures for to seche, 3 
 He rode the marches all about. 
 
 And fell a time, as he was out, 
 Fortune (which may every threde 
 To-break and knit of mannes speed) 
 Shope, as this knight rode in a pass, 
 That he by strength y-taken was ; 
 And to a castle they him lad* 
 Where that he fewe friendes had. 
 
 * In order to render this extract as correct as possible, 
 the text of edit. 1532 has been collated with three very an- 
 cient and valuable MSS. in the Bodleian library, quoted in 
 the note at the beginning of this chapter. 
 
 1 Much. * Could do. 3 seek. * Led.
 
 [ 182 ] 
 
 For so it fell, that ilke stound * 
 That he hath, with a deadly wound, 
 Fighting, [with] bis own hande slain 
 Branchus, which to the captain 
 Was son and heir, whereof ben wroth 
 The father and the mother both ; 
 And fain they woulde do vengeance 
 Upon Florent, but remembrance 
 That they took of his worthiness 
 Of knighthood, and of gentleness, 
 And how he stood of cousinage 
 To th* emperor, made them assuage, 
 And durst not slayen him for fear. 
 In great disputeson they were 
 Among them self, what was the best. 
 
 There was a lady, the sliest 
 Of all that menne knewe tho : * 
 So old, she might unnethes 3 go, 
 And was grandame unto the dead : 
 And she, with that, began to redef 
 And said how she will bring him in, 
 That she shall him to death win, 
 All only of his owen grant 
 Through strength of very covenant, 
 
 1 At that same time. 2 Then. 
 
 3 Scarce. * Advise.
 
 [ 183 ] 
 
 Without blame of any wight. 
 Anon she sent for this knight, 
 And of her sonne she aleyd* 
 The death, and thus to him she said . 
 
 " Florent, howso thou be to-wyte* 
 "Of Branchus' death, men shall respite 
 " As nffw 3 to take avengement, 
 4 ' Be so thou stand in judgement, 
 " Upon certain condition : 
 " That thou unto a question 
 ' Which I shall aske shalt answere. 
 " And, over this, thou shalt eke swear, 
 " That if thou of the sothe fail, 
 " There shall none other thing avail, 
 " That thou ne shalt thy death receive. 
 " And (for men shall thee nought deceive) 
 " That thou thereof might ben advised, 
 " Thou shalt have day and time assised ; 
 " And leave safely for to wend : 
 " Be so that at thy dayes end 
 " Thou come again with thine avisc." 4 
 
 This knight, which worthy was, and wise, 
 This lady pray'th that he may tvyt,* 
 
 ' Alleged. * Accused. * At prespnl. 
 
 4 Opinion. $ Know.
 
 C 184 ] 
 
 And have it under scales writ, 
 What question it shoulde be, 
 For which he shall, in that degree, 
 Stand of his life in jeopardy. 
 
 With that, she feigneth company, 
 And saith, " Florent, on love it hongeth, 
 " All that to mine askinge Mongeth ; 
 " WHAT 'VLLE WOMEN MOST DESIRE, 
 " This will I ask : and in th' empire, 
 " Whereas thou hast most knowledging 
 " Take counsel upon this asking." 
 
 Florent this thing hath undertake ; 
 The day was set, the time take : 
 Under his seal he wrote his oath 
 In such a wise, and forth he go'th 
 Home to his erne's * court again : 
 To whom his aventure plain 
 He told of that him is befall ; 
 And upon that they weren all, 
 The wisest of the land, assent ! * 
 
 But natheless, of one assent 
 They mighte not accorde plat . 3 
 One saide this, another that. 
 1 Uncle's. * Sent for. 3 Plainly
 
 [ 185 ] 
 
 After the disposition 
 
 Of natural complexion, 
 
 To some woman it is pleasiince, 
 
 That to another is grievance : 
 
 But such a thing, in special, 
 
 Which to them all in general 
 
 Is most pleasant, and most desired 
 
 Above all other, and most conspired, 
 
 Such a thing can they not find, 
 
 By constellation ne kind ; * 
 
 And thus Florent, withoute cure, 
 
 Must stand upon his aventure. 
 
 ****** 
 
 When time came, he took his leave, 
 
 That longer would he not beleve,* 
 
 And pray'th his erne he be not wroth, 
 
 For that is a point of his oath, 
 
 He saith, that no man shall him tvreak t J 
 
 Though afterward men heare speak 
 
 That he peraventure die. 
 
 And thus he wente forth his way 
 
 Alone as knight aventurous, 
 
 And in his thought was curious 
 
 To trite what was best to do. 
 
 1 Neither by the stars, nor b> the laws of kind, or nature. 
 * Remain. ' Revenge.
 
 [ 186 ] 
 
 And as he rode alone so, 
 And came nigh there he woulde be, 
 In a forest under a tree, 
 He saw where sat a creature, 
 A loathly womanish figdre, 
 That, for to speak of flesh and bone, 
 So foul yet saw he never none. 
 
 This knight beheld her readily, 
 And, as he would have passed by, 
 She cleped him, and bade abide ; 
 And he his horse's head aside 
 Tho T turned, and to her he rode, 
 And there he hoved* and abode, 
 To tuite what she woulde mean. 
 
 And she began him to bemene 3 
 And saide, " Florent, by thy name ! 
 " Thou hast on hande such a game, 
 " That, but thou be the better avised, 
 " Thy death is shapen and devised, 
 " That all the world ne may thee save 
 " But if that thou my counsel have.'* 
 
 Florent, when he this tale heard, 
 Unto this olde wight answer'd, 
 
 1 Then. a Hover'd. 3 Bemoan.
 
 C 187 ] 
 
 And of her counsel he her pray'd, 
 
 And she again to him thus said : 
 
 " Florent, if I for thee so shape, 
 
 " That thou through me thy death escape, 
 
 " And take worship of thy deed, 
 
 " What shall I have to my meed ?" 
 
 " What thing," quod he, " that thou wilt axe." 
 
 " I bidde never a better tax, 
 
 Quod she, " but first, or thou be sped, 
 
 " Thou shalt me leave such a toed * 
 
 " That I will have thy troth on hand 
 
 " That thou shalt be mine houseband." 
 
 " Nay,'* said Florent, "that may not be !'* 
 
 " Ride thenne forth thy way! " quod she. 
 
 " And if thou go forth without rede* 
 
 " Thou shalt be sekerliche* dead.'* 
 
 Florent behight* her good enow, 
 
 Of land, of rent, of park, of plough, 
 
 But all that counteth she at nought. 
 
 Tho fell this knight in mochel thought. 
 Now go'th he forth, now com'th again, 
 He wot not what is best to sayn, 
 And thought, as he rode to and fro, 
 That choose he must one of the two ; 
 
 1 Pledge. Sax. * Counsel. Sax. 
 
 a Surely. * Promised.
 
 [ 188 3 
 
 Or for to take her to his wife, 
 Or elles for to lose his life : 
 And then he cast his avantage, 
 That she was of so great an age, 
 That she may live but a while ; 
 And thought to put her in an isle, 
 Where that no man her shoulde know 
 Till she with death were overthrow. 
 
 And thus this younge lusty knight 
 Unto this olde loathly wight 
 Tho said : " If that none other chance 
 " May make my deliverance, 
 " But only thilke same speech 
 " Which as thou say'st thou shalt me teach, 
 *' Have here mine hand, I shall thee wed !" 
 And thus his troth he lay'th to wed. 
 With that, shefrounceth* up the brow: 
 " This covenant I will allow;" 
 She saith, " if any other thing 
 " But that thou hast of my teaching, 
 " Fro* death thy body may respite, 
 " I will thee of thy troth acquite : 
 " And elles, by none other way. 
 " Now hearken me what I shall say. 
 " When thou art come into the place 
 ' Wrinkleth.
 
 [ 189 3 
 
 *' Where now they maken great menace, 
 " And upon thy coming abide : 
 " They will, anon, the same tide 1 
 " Oppose thee of thine answer. 
 " I wot thou wilt no thing forbear, 
 " Of that thou weenest be thy best, 
 '* And, if thou mightest so find rest, 
 " Well is : for then is there no more ; 
 " And elles, this shall be my lore. 
 
 " That thou shalt say Upon this mold * 
 
 " That ALLE WOMEN LIEVEST WOULD 
 " BE SOVEREIGN OF MANNES LOVE : 
 
 " For, what woman is so above, 
 
 " She hath (as who sayth) all her will : 
 
 " And elles may she not fulfill 
 
 " What thing her were lievest have. 
 
 " With this answere thou shalt save 
 
 " Thy self, and otherwise nought : 
 
 " And when thou hast thine ende wrought, 
 
 " Come here again, thou shalt me find, 
 
 " And let no thing out of thy mind." 
 
 He go'th him forth with heavy cheer, 
 As he that n'ot ' in what manere 
 
 1 Time. Sn*. * tartb. 
 
 3 Knew not.
 
 E 190 ] 
 
 He may this worldes joy attain. 
 For if he die, he hath a pain : 
 And if he live, he must him bind 
 To such one, which if alle kind 
 Of women is th* unseemliest. 
 Thus wote he not what is the best. 
 But, be him lief, or be him loth, 
 Unto the castle forth he go'th, 
 His full answere for to give, 
 Or for to die, or for to live. 
 
 Forth with his council came the lord> 
 The thinges stooden of record, 
 He sent up for the lady soon : 
 And forth she came, that olde mone> * 
 In presence of the remenant; 
 The strength of all the covenant 
 Tho was rehearsed openly, 
 And to Florent she badeforthi* . 
 That he shall tellen his avise 
 As he that wote what is the price. 
 
 Florent saith all that ever he couth, 3 
 But such word came there none to mouth, 
 
 1 Moiuie, a monkey. (Cotgrave's French Dictionary.) 
 * Forthwith. 3 Knew.
 
 [ 191 3 
 
 That he for gift or for behest 
 Might any wise his death arrest. 
 And thus he tarrieth long and late 
 Till that this lady bade algate 
 That he shall for the doom final 
 Give his answer in special 
 Of that she had him first opposed. 
 
 And then he hath truly supposed 
 That he him may of nothing yelp * 
 But if so be tho * wordes help 
 Which as the woman hath him taught : 
 Whereof he hath an hope caught 
 That he shall be excused so, 
 And told out plain his vville tho. 
 
 And when that this matrone heard 
 The manner how this knight answer'd, 
 She said, " Ha ! treason ! woe thee be ! 
 " That hast thus told the privity 
 " Which alle women most desire. 
 " I woulde that thou were a-fire !" 
 But natheless, in such a plight 
 Florent of his answer is quite. 
 And tho began his sorrow new : 
 For he must gone, or be untrue 
 
 1 Praf*. * Thosp.
 
 [ 192 ] 
 
 To hire which his trothe had. 
 But he, which alle shame drad, x 
 Go'th forth in stead of his penance, 
 And tak'th the fortune of his chance, 
 As he that was with troth affhyted. * 
 
 This old wight him hath awaited 
 In place where as he hire left. 
 
 Florent his woeful head up-lift, 
 And saw this vecke 5 where she sit, 
 Which was the loathlieste wight 
 That ever man cast on his eye. 
 Her nose has, 4 her browes high, 
 Her eyen smalle, and depe-set. 
 Her chekes ben with teres wet, 
 And rivelen s as an empty skin 
 Hangende 6 down unto the chin, 
 Her lippes shrunken ben for age ; 
 There was no grace in her visage. 
 Her front was narrow, her locks hoar ; 
 She looketh forth as doth a Moor. 
 Her neck is short, her shoulders courl, 7 
 That might a marines lust distourb. 
 
 1 Dreaded. a Adorned. Old Fr. 
 
 3 Old woman. * Low. * Shrivelled. 
 
 6 Hanging. 7 Crooked. 
 
 3
 
 C 193 ] 
 
 Her body, great, and nothing small : 
 And, shortly to describe her all, 
 She hath no lyth ' without a lack, 
 But like unto a wolle-sack. 
 
 She proffer 'th her unto this knight, 
 And bade him, as he hath behight z 
 ( So as she hath been his warrant, ) 
 That he her holde covenant ; 
 And by the bridle she him seizeth, 
 But God wot how that she him pleaseth ! 
 Of suche wordes as she speaketh 
 Him thinketh well-nigh his heart breaketh 
 For sorrow that he may not flee 
 But if he woulde untrue be. 
 
 Look how a sick man for his hele 3 
 Tak'th baldemoyn 4 with the cande? 
 And with the myrrh taketh the sucre ; 6 
 Right upon such a manner lucre 
 Stands Florent, as, in this diete, 
 He drink'th the bitter with the sweet ; 
 He meddleth 7 sorrow with liking, 
 
 1 Limb. a Promise.-). 3 {Cure. 
 
 * Perhaps a mistake of the copyist for bolearmene, i. e. 
 Armenian bole, once thought a specific against poUon, &r. 
 5 Cinnnmon. 6 Sugar. 7 Mixrtb. 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 [ 194 ] 
 
 And liveth (as who saith) dying. 
 His youthe shall be cast away 
 Upon such one which, as the way, 
 Is old, and loathly over all. 
 But, nede he must that nede shall. 
 He would, algateS his trothe hold, 
 As every knight thereto is hold, 
 What hap soever him is befall. 
 Though she be the foulest of all, 
 Yet, to honour of woman-hed, 
 Him thought he shoulde taken heed : 
 So that, for pure gentiless, 
 As he her couthe best address, 
 In ragges as she was to-tore, 
 He set her on his horse to-fore, 
 And forth he taketh his way soft. 
 
 No wonder though he sigheth oft ! 
 But, as an owl flyeth by night 
 Out of all other birdes' sight, 
 Right so this knight on dayes broad 
 In close him held, and shope his road 
 On nighte's time, till the tide * 
 That he come there he would abide : 
 And privily, without noise, 
 
 1 Always. 2 Time.
 
 [ 195 ] 
 
 He bring'th this foule greate coise * 
 To his castell, in such a wise 
 That no man might her shape avise, 
 Till she into the chamber came, 
 Where he his privy council name,* 
 Of suche men as he most trust ; 
 And told them that he nedes must 
 This beste wedde to his wife, 
 
 For elles had he lost his life. 
 f 
 
 The privy women were a-sent, 
 That shoulden ben of his assent : 
 Her ragges they anon off draw, 
 And, as it was that time law, 
 She hadde bath, she hadde rest, 
 And was arrayed to the best. 
 But with no craft of combes brode 
 They might her hore lockes shode, 3 
 And she ne woulde nought be shore* 
 For no counsel : and they therefore, 
 With such attire as tho was used, 
 Ordainen that it was excused, 
 And hid so craftily about 
 That no man mighte seen them out. 
 
 1 Probably incumbrance, from coiner, incommoder. Old 
 Fr. See La Combe's Diet. 
 
 * Took ; mm. Sax. " Nim a purse," Sbakspeare. 
 3 Shed, i. e. separate, disentangle. * Shorn.
 
 I.I*- I 
 
 But when she was fully array'4, 
 And her attire .was all assay' d, 
 Tho was she fouler unto see ! 
 But yet it may none other be : 
 They were wedded in the night. 
 So woe-begone Was never knight 
 As he was then of marriage ! 
 And she began to play and rage, 
 As who saith I am well enough. 
 (But he thereof nothing ne lough 1 ) 
 For she took thenne cheer on hand, 
 And clepeth * him her houseband, 
 And saith, " My Lord, go we to bed ! 
 " For I to that intent thee wed, 
 " That thou shalt be my worldes bliss ;" 
 And profFer'th him with that to kiss, 
 As she a lusty lady were. 
 His body mighte well be there ; 
 But as of thought, and of memoire, 
 His hearte was in purgatoire. 
 
 But yet, for strength of matrimoine, 
 He mighte make none essoine* 
 That he ne mote algates plie * 
 To go to bed of company. 
 
 1 Laughed. * Calletb. Sax. 
 
 3 Excuse. Fr. * Yield. ,Fr.
 
 [ 197 ] 
 
 And when they were a-bedde naked, 
 
 Withoute sleep he was awaked ; 
 
 He turneth on that other side, 
 
 For that he would his eyen hide 
 
 Fro looking of that foule wight. 
 
 The chamber was all full of light ; 
 
 The curtains were of sendall * thin : 
 
 This newe bride which lay within, 
 
 Though it be nought with his accord, 
 
 In armes she beclipt her lord, 
 
 And pray'd, as he was turned fro, 
 
 He would him turn again-ward tho. 
 
 For " now,'* she saith, " we be both one ;" 
 
 But he lay still as any stone ; 
 
 And ever in one she spake and pray'd, 
 
 And bade him think on that he said 
 
 When that he took her by the hond. 
 
 He heard, and understood the bond, 
 How he was set to his penance : 
 And, as it were a man in trance, 
 He turneth him all suddenly, 
 And saw a lady lie him by 
 Of eighteteene winter age,* 
 Which was the fairest of visage 
 
 1 Silk. z The Saxons always computed time by 
 
 winters and nights.
 
 [ 198 ] 
 
 That ever in all the world he sigh ; " 
 And as he would have take her nigh. 
 She put her hand, and by his leve * 
 Besought him that he woulde leave, 
 And say'th, that for to win or lese J 
 He mote one of two thinges chese, 4 
 Wher s he will have her such o'night, 
 Or elles upon daye's light, 
 For he shall not have bothe two. 
 
 And he began to sorrow tho, 
 In many a wise, and cast his thought, 
 But for all that, yet could he nought 
 Devise himself which was the best : 
 And she, that would his hearte rest, 
 Pray'th that he shoulde chuse algate : 
 Till at the laste, long and late 
 He said, " O ye, my life's hele, 6 
 " Say what ye list in my querelej 
 " I n'ot what answer I shall give, 
 " But ever, while that I may live, 
 " I will, that ye be my mistress, 
 " For I can nought myselve guess 
 " Which is the best unto my choice. 
 " Thus grant I you mine whole voice : 
 
 Saw. * Love. 3 Lose. + Choose. 
 
 Whether. 6 Medicine. 7 Dispute.
 
 [ 199 ] 
 
 " Chuse for us bothen, I you pray ! 
 " And, what as ever that ye say, 
 " Right as ye wille, so will L" 
 
 " My lord," she saide, " grand-merci ! * 
 " For of this word that ye now sayn, 
 " That ye have made me sovereign, 
 " My destiny is over passed ; 
 " That never hereafter shall be lassed * 
 " My beauty, which that I now have, 
 " Till I betake unto my grave. 
 " Both night and day, as I am now, 
 " I shall alway be such to you. 
 " The kinges daughter of Sicile 
 " I am ; and Jell 3 but sith a while, 
 " As I was with my father late, 
 " That my step-mother, for an hate 
 " Which toward me she hath begun, 
 " For-shope,' till I hadde won 
 " The love and the sovereinety 
 " Of what knight that in his degree 
 " All other passeth of good name : 
 " And, as men seyn, ye be the same, 
 " The deede proveth it is so. 
 " Thus am I yours for evermo." 
 
 1 Many thanks. * Lessened. 
 
 3 It befell. * Mis-shaped. 
 
 2
 
 Tho wa& pleasance and joy enough ; 
 Each one with other play'd and loug/i ; * 
 They lived Jong, and well they far'dy 
 And clerkes, that this chance heard, 
 They written it in evidence, 
 To teach, how that obedience 
 May well fortune a man to love, 
 And set him in his lust above. 
 
 [Fol. 15 ; ed. 1532.] 
 
 1 Laughed.
 
 201 ] 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Reign of Edward III. continued. Geoffrey 
 Chaucer. 
 
 CJTEOFFREY CHAUCER has had many biographers ; 
 but the authentic documents respecting his life are 
 so few, that his last editor, Mr Tyrvvhitt, to whom 
 this great poet will be principally indebted for the 
 rational admiration of posterity, has contented him- 
 self with a bare recital of the following genuine 
 anecdotes, instead of attempting to work them in- 
 to a connected narrative, in which much must 
 have been supplied by mere conjecture, or by a 
 forced interpretation of the allusions scattered 
 through the works of the poet. 
 
 The original inscription on his tombstone is said 
 to have proved that he died in 1400, aged 72, so 
 that he was born in 1328 ; and he has himself told 
 us that his birth-place was London. Of his family 
 we know absolutely nothing. From a passage in 
 his Court of Love, where he calls himself " Philo- 
 " genet of Cambridge, clerk," it may be inferred 
 that he was educated in that university ; and it is 
 presumed that he was afterwards entered at the 
 Inner Temple, because the records of that inn 
 r>
 
 [ 202 ] 
 
 are said to state that he was fined two shillings for 
 beating a Franciscan friar in Fleet-street. * 
 
 By what means, or at what period, he first re- 
 commended himself to his patron, John of Gaunt, 
 whose persevering kindness seems to have accom- 
 panied him through life, is not known ; but the 
 mysterious descriptions in his Dream, are con- 
 sidered as evidence that he enjoyed the confidence 
 and familiarity of that prince during his courtship 
 of Blanche, the heiress of the house of Lancaster, 
 whom he married in 1359 ; and it was probably to 
 their recommendation that our poet owed his in- 
 troduction into the royal household, in which we 
 find him established in the year 1367- 
 
 In this year (the 41st of Edward III.) a patent 
 occurs, by which the king grants to Chaucer an 
 annuity of 20 marks, by the title of Valettus nos- 
 ter ; an office which, by whatever name we trans- 
 late it, might be held even by persons of the highest 
 rank, because the only science then in request among 
 the nobility was that of etiquette, the knowledge 
 
 * Mr Ritson (B'. jliogr. Poet. p. 19, note) says that this 
 anecdote is " a hum of Thomas Chatterton." See his Mis- 
 cellanies, p. 137, But as the story is related in Speght's 
 editions of Chaucer (1 598, 1602), on the evidence of a Mas- 
 ter Buckley, it remains for Mr Ritsoa to prove that what 
 he elegantly calls Chatterton's hum has had a retroactive 
 effect on the understanding of the said Master Buckley, who 
 lived, and probably died, in the 16th century.
 
 [ 203 ] 
 
 of which was acquired, together with the habits of 
 chivalry, bypassing in gradation through the several 
 menial offices about the court. Chaucer was at this 
 time thirty-nine years of age, and did not acquire 
 the rank ofscutifer, or esquire, till five years after- 
 wards. By this new title he was appointed, with two 
 others, king's envoy to Genoa, and it was perhaps 
 on this occasion that he made acquaintance with 
 Petrarch, whom he professes to have seen at Padua. 
 The object of this mission is not mentioned, but 
 it may be supposed to have related to some pecu- 
 niary or commercial negotiation ; and it may be 
 farther presumed, that Chaucer acquitted himself 
 much to the king's satisfaction, because from this 
 time we find him distinguished by repeated marks 
 of royal favour. In 1374? he obtained' a grant for 
 life of a pitcher of wine daily ; and was appointed 
 to the office of comptroller of the customs of wool, 
 &c. in the port of London. In the next year the 
 king granted him the wardship of Sir Edmund 
 Staplegate's heir, for which he received >:.lot, 
 and the year following some forfeited wool to the 
 value of 71. 4tf. 6d. : and in the last year of this 
 reign he was sent to France, with Sir Guichard 
 D' Angle, and Richard Stan [or Sturry,] to treat of 
 a marriage between Richard, then prince of Wales, 
 and a daughter of the French king.
 
 [ 204 ] 
 
 Chaucer frequently alludes to a period of his Fife, 
 at which he was possessed of considerable opulence ; 
 and it will appear, by a review of the several grants 
 just mentioned, that he had great reason to be 
 satisfied with the munificence of his royal master. 
 The mark of silver, in which these grants are esti- 
 mated, contained eight ounces, and consequently 
 was equal to 40 shillings, as the pound was to 4, 
 of our present denomination ; and as the repre- 
 sentative value of silver is generally supposed to 
 have been five times greater in the reign of Edward 
 III. than it is at present, it will follow that the 
 value of the mark in our present money may be 
 estimated at 10, and Chaucer's original annuity 
 at j200. The grant of wine was of the same va- 
 lue, because it was afterwards exchanged for an 
 Annuity of 20 marks. The two gratifications in 
 money, amounting together to 115. 4s. Gd. were, 
 upon the same principles of calculation, equivalent 
 to ^3500: so that Chaucer appears to have re- 
 ceived, during the three last years of this reign, a 
 sutti equal) to the present value of 4700, ( inclu- 
 ding the two annuities), without taking into ac- 
 count his receipts as comptroller of the customs, 
 which were probably much greater, nor the re- 
 wards of his mission to France, which may be sup- 
 posed to have been considerable.
 
 [ 905 ] 
 
 It has been already observed that Mr Tyrwhitt 
 was a little displeased with Edward III. for having 
 exposed Chaucer's genius to the petrifying influence 
 of custom-house accounts : but it should be remem- 
 bered that Chaucer voluntarily exposed his talents 
 to an almost equal risk by composing a treatise on 
 the astrolabe ; that his mathematical skill was per- 
 haps not very uselessly employed in unravelling 
 the confusion of the public accounts ; that the 
 task thus imposed upon him was at least no mean 
 compliment to his probity ; and that, after all, it 
 produced no fatal effect on his genius, if, as Mr 
 Tyrwhitt conjectures, it did not prevent him from 
 writing his House of Fame during the intervals of 
 his labour. 
 
 The succeeding reign was by no means equally 
 propitious to the fortunes of Chaucer. The grant 
 of his pension was, indeed, confirmed to him, and 
 his grant of wine replaced by an equivalent annuity 
 of 20 marks, at the accession of Richard II., but 
 his real or supposed interference in the intrigues 
 of city politics, during the mayoralty of John of 
 Northampton, appears to have drawn upon him 
 the displeasure of the king, and to have involved 
 him in pecuniary distresses from which he was ne- 
 ver after able to extricate himself. In 1388 he 
 was obliged to part with his two pensions, and 
 though, by the intervention, sa it seems, of the Duke
 
 [ 206 ] 
 
 of Lancaster, he was, in 1 390, restored to favour, and 
 successively appointed clerk of the works at West- 
 minster and Windsor, besides which he received, 
 in 1397, a grant of a new pension of 20 marks, we 
 find him obliged to accept, in 1 398, a protection for 
 two years, a proof that he had by no means reco- 
 vered his former affluence. In the last year of this 
 reign he obtained a new annual grant of a pipe of 
 wine, and the revolution in favour of Henry IV., 
 the son of his constant benefactor, would probably 
 have raised him to greater affluence than he had 
 ever enjoyed, but he died in the next year, after 
 
 having received a confirmation of the last favours 
 
 / 
 
 bestowed on him by Richard II., and a farther 
 grant of an annuity of 40 marks. 
 
 After reading, in the circumstantial accounts of 
 Chaucer's biographers, that he was married in 
 1360 to Philippa Rouet, by whom he had issue 
 Thomas Chaucer and other children, we are sur- 
 prized to learn that it is doubtful whether Thomas 
 Chaucer was his son ; that the earliest known evi- 
 dence of his marriage is a record of 1381, in which 
 he receives a half-year's payment of an annuity of 
 10 marks granted by Edward III. to his wife as 
 one of the maids of honour (domicellce) lately in 
 the service of Queen Philippa ; that the name of 
 Philippa Rouet does not occur in the list of these 
 maids of honour, but that Chaucer's wife may pos-
 
 [ 207 ] 
 
 siblyhavebeen PhilippaPykard; that, notwithstand- 
 ing this, his said wife was certainly sister to Catha- 
 rine Rouet, who married a Sir John Swynford, and 
 was the favourite mistress, and ultimately the wife, 
 of the Duke of Lancaster; and that Chaucer him- 
 self mentions no son but Lewis, whom he states to 
 have been born in 1381, a date which seems to 
 agree with the record above-mentioned, and to 
 place the date of his marriage in 1380. The task 
 of unravelling these obscurities must be left to fu- 
 ture biographers. 
 
 As our principal concern is with the literary 
 character of this poet, it would be unpardonable 
 to omit the following estimate of his writings, ex- 
 tracted from Dr Johnson's introduction to his Dic- 
 tionary. 
 
 " He may, perhaps, with great justice, be styled 
 " the first of our versifiers who wrote poetically. 
 " He does not, however, appear to have deserved 
 " all the praise which he has received, or all the 
 " censure that he has suffered. Dryden, who, 
 " mistaking genius for learning, and in confidence 
 " of his abilities, ventured to write of what he had 
 " not examined, ascribes toChaucerthe first refine- 
 " ment of our numbers, the first production of easy 
 " and natural rhymes, and the improvement of 
 " our language, by words borrowed from the more 
 " polished languages of the continent. Skinner
 
 C 208 ] 
 
 ** contrarily blames him in harsh terms for having 
 " vitiated his native speech by whole cartloads of 
 "foreign ivords. But he that reads the works of 
 ** Gowerwill find smooth numbers and easy rhymes, 
 '* of which Chaucer is supposed to have been the 
 " inventor, and the French words, whether good 
 " or bad, of which Chaucer is charged as the im- 
 " porter. Some innovations he might probably 
 " make, like others, in the infancy of our poetry, 
 " which the paucity of books does not allow us to 
 " discover with particular exactness ; but the works 
 " of Gower and Lydgate sufficiently evince, that 
 *' his diction was in general like that of his con- 
 " temporaries ; and some improvements he un- 
 " doubtedly made by the various dispositions of 
 " his rhymes, and by the mixture of different num- 
 " bers, in which he seems to have been happy and 
 " judicious." 
 
 This compendious piece of criticism contains a 
 full refutation of Skinner's veiy absurd charge, at 
 the same time that the severe and unnecessary 
 censure on Dryden exhibits a strong instance of 
 the very haste and inaccuracy which it condemns. 
 It is scarcely credible that Dryden, while he was 
 employed in paraphrasing the Knight's Tale, and 
 the Flower and the Leaf, which are perhaps the 
 most finished specimens of his poetry, and at the 
 same time very faithful copies of his original,
 
 [ 209 ] 
 
 should have entirely neglected to consult the con- 
 temporary poets, whose works were necessary to 
 the explanation of Chaucer's language. Perhaps 
 he was likely to read them in search of those beau- 
 ties which tradition reported them to contain, and 
 which he might hope to appropriate without detec- 
 tion. Dryden, indeed, who was condemned to write 
 in haste, had not leisure, perhaps he would not have 
 had patience, to consult the various manuscripts 
 of his author, and to compare Chaucer with him- 
 self and with the obscure versifitrs who preceded 
 him : his opinion, therefore, is inaccurate ; but he 
 is mistaken in his censure, not in his encomium. 
 
 The researches of Mr Tyrwhitt have proved 
 what Dryden denied, viz. that Chaucer's versifica- 
 tion, wherever his genuine text is preserved, was 
 uniformly correct ; although the harmony of his 
 lines has in many instances been obliterated by 
 the changes that have taken place in the mode of 
 accenting our language. But Chaucer's reputation 
 as an improver of our versification principally 
 rests on the invention (or at least on the first 
 adoption) of the ten-syllable or heroic verse, of 
 that verse which has been -employed by every 
 poet of eminence from Spenser to Dr Johnson, 
 and in which its original inventor has left many 
 specimens, both in the Knight's Tale and in the 
 
 VOL. i. o
 
 [ 210 ] 
 
 Flower and the Leaf, which Dryden despaired of 
 improving. 
 
 With respect to Chaucer's language, it is impos- 
 sible not to feel some disappointment at the cautious 
 and doubtful opinion delivered by the author of 
 our national dictionary, and delivered in the intro- 
 duction to that truly noble monument of his genius. 
 That Chaucer " might probably make some innova- 
 " tions," and that " his diction was in general like 
 " that of his contemporaries," we should have con- 
 jectured without Dr Johnson's assistance ; because 
 a writer of genius and learning will be likely to 
 make some innovations in a barbarous language, 
 but, in so doing, will not choose to become quite 
 unintelligible. From a critic so intimately ac- 
 quainted with the mechanism of language we should 
 have expected to learn, whether Chaucer had in 
 any degree added to the precision of our English 
 idiom by improvements of its syntax, or to its har- 
 mony by the introduction of more sonorous words ; 
 or whether he was solely indebted for the beauty 
 and perspicuity of his style to that happy selec- 
 tion of appropriate expressions which distinguished 
 every writer of original thinking and real genius. 
 
 All Chaucer's immediate successors, those who 
 studied him as their model, Hoccleve, Lydgate, 
 King James I., &c. speak with rapture of the ele-
 
 c 211 : 
 
 gance and splendour of his diction. He is " the 
 " flower of eloquence ;" " superlative in elo- 
 " quence ;" his words are " the gold dew-drops 
 " of speech." Such exaggerated praises certainly 
 imply an enthusiastic, though, perhaps, absurd ad- 
 miration ; and, as these poets would probably at- 
 tempt to imitate what they considered as eminent- 
 ly beautiful, it seems likely that an examination 
 of their style must enable us to discover what they 
 considered as the improvements introduced by 
 Chaucer. 
 
 Now the characteristics of our poetry during 
 the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries are an exube- 
 rance of ornament, and an affectation of Latinity, 
 neither of which peculiarities are to be found in 
 Robert of Gloucester, Robert de Brunne, Minot, 
 Langland, or indeed in any of the poets anterior 
 to Chaucer. This, therefore, may be supposed to 
 be what Chaucer himself and his successors meant 
 by what they called an ornate style, of which the 
 following stanza, extracted from the Court of Love, 
 is a curious specimen : 
 
 Honour to thee, celestial and clear, 
 Goddess of love, and to thy celsitude, 
 That giv'st us light so far down from thy sphere, 
 Piercing our heartes with thy pidchritude f
 
 [ 212 ] 
 
 Comparison none of similitude 
 
 May to thy grace be .made in no degree, 
 
 That hast us set with love in unity. 
 
 [St. 88. fol. 330. ed. 1602.] 
 
 It is not meant that this is an example of Chau- 
 cer's usual style ; indeed no poet is, in general, 
 more free from pedantry : but the attentive reader 
 will find that in the use of words of Latin deriva- 
 tion, most of which are common to the French and 
 Italian languages, he very generally prefers the 
 inflections of the latter, either as thinking therru 
 more sonorous, or because they are nearer to the 
 original ; and that in his descriptive poetry he is 
 very fond of multiplying his epithets, and of copy- 
 ing all the other peculiarities of the Italian poetry 
 (from which his favourite metre is unquestionably 
 derived),with the view of "refining our numbers, and 
 " improving our language by words borrowed from 
 " the more polished languages of the Continent." 
 
 With respect to his success in these endeavours 
 there has been a considerable difference of opi- 
 nion ; but he has been most admired by those who 
 were best qualified to appreciate his merit. Spen- 
 ser, his warmest panegyrist, had studied him with 
 very minute and particular attention ; and though 
 many readers will not concur with him in thinking
 
 C 213 ] 
 
 that Chaucer's compositions are " the well of Eng- 
 " lish undefiled," they will admit that Spenser 
 formed his judgment with due deliberation, and 
 that he evinced the sincerity of his belief by trust- 
 ing the success of his own poetical reputation to 
 the same antiquated phraseology. 
 
 From a general review of all Chaucer*s works it 
 will appear that he entertained a very mean opinion 
 of his native language, and of the poets who had 
 employed it ; and that he was, during a great part 
 of his life, incessantly occupied in translating the 
 works of the French, Italian, and Latin poets. 
 His Romaunt of the Rose is a professed transla- 
 tion from William de Lorris and John de Meun : 
 the long and beautiful Romance of Troilus and 
 Creseide is principally imitated from Boccacio's 
 Filostrato : the Legend of Good Women is a free 
 translation from Ovid's Epistles, combined with 
 histories of his heroines derived from various Latin 
 chronicles : the House of Fame is a similar com- 
 pilation : Palamon and Arcite is known to be an 
 imitation of the Teseida ofBoccacio. On the whole, 
 it may be doubted whether he thought himself suf- 
 Bciently qualified to undertake an original compo- 
 sition till he was sixty years of age, at which time 
 it is conjectured that he formed and began to ex- 
 ecute the plan of his Canterbury Tales.
 
 [ 214 ] 
 
 This elaborate work was apparently intended to 
 contain a delineation of all the prominent characters 
 in society ; these were to be sketched oat in an 
 introductory prologue, to be contrasted by cha- 
 racteristic dialogues, and probably to be engaged 
 in incidents which should farther develope their 
 peculiarities of disposition : and, as stories were 
 absolutely necessary in every popular work, an ap- 
 propriate tale was to be assigned to each of the pil- 
 grims. It is not extraordinary that the remainder 
 of Chaucer's life should have been insufficient for 
 the completion of such a plan. What is actually ex- 
 ecuted can only be considered as a fragment ; but, 
 imperfect as it is, it contains more information re- 
 specting the manners and customs of the fourteenth 
 century than could be gleaned from the whole mass 
 of contemporary writers, English or foreign ; and 
 the poetical beauties with which it abounds have 
 ensured to its author the first rank among the Eng- 
 ish poets anterior to Shakespeare. 
 
 As it would be absurd to crowd the present short 
 sketch with formal extracts from a work so gene- 
 rally known and admired, the following specimens 
 will be principally taken from Chaucer's less popu- 
 lar compositions, and will be selected with an at- 
 tention to other objects than that of exhibiting 
 proofs of his poetical excellence.
 
 [ 215 ] 
 
 Addison has observed that " a reader seldom 
 " peruses a book with pleasure, till he knows whe- 
 " ther the writer of it be a black or a fair man, 
 " of a mild or cholerick disposition, married or a 
 " bachelor, with other particulars of the like na- 
 " ture, that conduce very much to the right un- 
 " derstanding of an author." Montaigne was cer- 
 tainly of the same opinion ; and Chaucer, though 
 he has told us nothing of his birth, has taken care 
 to inform us that he was corpulent, and had a habit 
 of looking on the ground, the result of frequent 
 meditation. 
 
 our host tojapen * he began, 
 
 And then at erst * he looked upon me, 
 
 And saide thus : " What man art thou ?" quod he: 
 
 " Thou lookest as thou wouldest find a hare ! 
 
 " For ever upon the ground I see thee stare. 
 
 " Approche near, and look up merrily ! 
 
 " Now ware you, sirs, and let this man have place ; 
 
 " He in the waist is shapen as well as I. 
 
 " This were a puppet in arms to embrace 
 
 " For any woman, small and fair efface ! 
 
 " He seemeth elvish by his countenance, 
 
 " For unto no wight doth he dalliance." 
 
 [The words of the Host to Chaucer, prefixed 
 to the rime of Sir Thopas.] 
 1 Jest. * At first.
 
 [ 216 ] 
 
 His love of reading is mentioned repeatedly ; but 
 the following passages are perhaps the most re- 
 markable for the quaint simplicity of the style. 
 
 Of usage, what for hist, * and what for lore, z 
 On bookes read I oft, as I you told 
 But, wherefore speake I all this ? not yore 3 
 Agone, it happed [for] to behold 
 Upon a book was y-written with letters old, 
 And thereupon a certain thing to learn, 
 The longe day full fast I red and yern. 4 
 
 Four out of the old fieldes, as men saith, 
 Cometh all this new corn fro year to year ; 
 And out of olde bookes, in good faith, 
 Cometh all this new science that men lere : s 
 But now to purpose : as of this mattere 
 To rede forth, it gan me so delight 
 That all that day methought it but a lite. 6 
 
 [Assemb. of Fowls, st. 3.] 
 
 Again, hi the Legend of Good Women : 
 
 And as for me, though that I can 7 but lite, 
 On bookes for to read I me delight, 
 
 * Pleasure. * Learning. 3 Far, long. * Eagerly. 
 ? Learn. 6 Little. 7 Ken, know*
 
 [ 217 ] 
 
 And to hem give I faith and full credence, 
 And in mine heart have hem in reverence 
 So heartily, that there is game none 
 That fro my bookes maketh me to gone, 
 But it be seldom, on the holy day ; 
 Save, certainly, when that the month of May 
 Is comen, and that I hear the fowles sing, 
 And that the floures 'ginnen for to spring, 
 Farewell my book and my devotion. 
 
 [Prologue, verse 29.] 
 
 To his frequent morning walks we are indebted 
 for the many beautiful specimens of descriptive 
 poetry with which his works abound : as, for in- 
 stance, in the Complaint of the Black Knight : 
 
 I rose anon, and thought I woulde gone 
 Into the wood, to hear the birdes sing, 
 When that the misty vapour was agone, 
 And clear and faire was the morronyng ; 
 The dew also like silver in shining 
 Upon the leaves as any baume sweet : 
 Till fiery Titan with his persant * heat 
 
 Had dried up the lusty liquor new 
 Upon the herbes in the grene mead ; 
 And that the flowers, of many divers hue, 
 1 Piercing.
 
 C 218 ] 
 
 Upon her stalkes gonne* for to spread, 
 And for to 'splaye out her leves in brede* 
 Again the sun, gold-burned 3 in his sphere, 
 That downe to hem cast his bearaes clear. 
 
 And by a river forth I gan costay * 
 Of water clear as beryl or chrystal, 
 Till, at the last, I found a little way 
 Toward a park, enclosed with a wall 
 In compass round, and by a gate small : 
 Whoso that woulde, freely mighte gone 
 Into this park walled with grene stone. 
 
 And in I went to hear the birdes' song, 
 Which on the branches, both in plain and vale, 
 So loude sang that all the woode rong 
 Like as it should shiver in pieces smale ; 
 And as methoughte that the nightingale 
 With so great might her voice gan out-wrest 
 Right as her hearte for love woulde brest. 
 
 The soil was plaine, smooth, and wonder soft, 
 All over-spread with tapets that Nature 
 Had made herself; covered eke aloft 
 With boughes green, the floures for to cure, 
 
 1 Began. * Abroad. 3 Gold-burnished. 
 
 4 Costoyer, cotoyer. Fr. ; to coast.
 
 C 219 ] 
 
 That in her beauty they may long endure 
 From all assault of Phrebus' fervent/ere, 1 
 Which in his sphere so hote shone and clear. 
 
 The air attempre, and the smoothe wind 
 Of Zephyrus among the blossoms white 
 So wholesome was and so nourishing by kind, 
 That smale buddes and round blossoms lite 
 In manner gan of her breathe delight, 
 To give us hope there fruit shall take 
 Against autumne ready for to shake. 
 
 There saw I eke the fresh haw-thorn, 
 
 In white motley, that so stvote doeth smell ; 
 
 Ash, fir, and oak, with many a young acorn, 
 
 And many a tree mo than I can tell ; 
 
 And, me before, I saw a little well 
 
 That had his course, as I gan behold, 
 
 Under an hill, with quicke streames cold. 
 
 The gravel gold ; the water pure as glass ; 
 The bankes round the well environing ; 
 And softe as velvet the younge grass 
 That thereupon lustily came springing. 
 The suit of trees aboutc compassing 
 
 1 Fire. * In its nature.
 
 [ 220 ] 
 
 Her shadow caste closing the well round, 
 And all the herbes growing on the ground. 
 
 [St. 4.] 
 
 Chaucer has also taken care to tell us that he 
 was magnificently lodged : 
 
 And sooth to sayn, my chamber was 
 Full well depainted, and with glass 
 Were all the tvindotvs well y-glazed 
 Full clear, and not an hole y-crazed, 
 That to behold it was great joy : 
 For wholly all the story of Troy * 
 Was in the glazing y-wrought thus, 
 Of Hector and of king Priamus ; 
 Of Achilles, and of king Lamedon, 
 And eke of Medea and of Jason ; 
 Of Paris, Helen, and of Lavine. 
 And all the walls with colours fine 
 Were painte bothe text and glose, 
 And all the Romaunt of the Rose. 
 
 [Book of the Duchess, verse 321. fol. 228. 
 ed. 1602.] 
 
 He mentions another room which was curiously 
 painted : 
 
 1 The Painted Chamber, adjoining the House of Lords, 
 represents the siege of Troy ; and the tapestry was placed 
 there at the marriage of Richard II.
 
 [ 221 3 
 
 on the walls old portraiture 
 
 Of horsemen, hawkes, and hounds, 
 And hurt deer, full of wounds, 
 Some like bitten, some hurt with shot. 
 [Chaucer's Dream, ad finem. fol. 34-3. ed. 1602.] 
 
 A modern reader may possibly not be aware that 
 glass windows were so rare in the reign of Edward III. 
 as to merit a particular description ; but it appears 
 from Heywood's " Spider and Flie," that glazed 
 windows were considered as a luxury in the time 
 of Henry VIII. Heywood's window was only lat- 
 ticed. The Trojan war was indeed of little use, ex- 
 cept as a provocative to dreaming, which Chaucer 
 perhaps did not much want ; but, though an unne- 
 cessary, it must have been an expensive ornament. 
 
 In the Legend of Cleopatras we are surprised by 
 the following description of the battle of Actiura : 
 
 in the sea it happed hem to meet, 
 
 Up go'tli the trump, and for to shout, and slide, 1 
 And painen hem to set on with the sun. 
 .With grisly sound out goeth the GREAT GUN : 
 And heartily they hurtlen in all at once ; 
 And fro the top down cometh the great stones* 
 In go'th the grapenel* so full of crooks, 
 
 1 Shoot. * Grappling-iron. Fr.
 
 [ 222 3 
 
 Among the ropes ran the sheering hooks ; 
 In with the pole-ax presseth he * and he } 
 Behind the mast beginneth he to flee ; 
 
 ****** 
 
 He rent the sail with hookes like a scythe ; 
 He bring'th the cup, and biddeth hem be blithe ; 
 He poureth pesen * upon the hatches' slider, 
 With pottes full of lime, they gone together ; 
 And thus the longe day in fight they spend. 
 
 [Verse 56.] 
 
 In the Legend of Dido the situation of ^Eneas z 
 at her court is thus curiously described : 
 
 This JEneas is come to Paradise 
 Out of the swallow of hell : and thus in joy 
 Remembereth him of his estate in Troy. 
 To dancing chambers, full of paraments, * 
 Of riche beddes, and of pavements, 
 This JEneas is led after the meat. 
 And with the quene when that he had seat, 
 And spices parted, and the wine agone, 
 Unto his chamber was he led anon 
 To take his ease, and for to have his rest, 
 With all his folk, to done whatso hem list. 
 
 1 This. * Pt.ix, Fr. Pitch. 
 
 3 Parement. Fr. ; from purer, to adorn.
 
 [ 223 ] 
 
 There ne was courser well y-bridled none, 
 Ne steede for the justing well to gone, 
 Ne large palfrey, easy for the nonce, 
 Ne jewel fret full of riche stones, 
 Ne sackes full of gold of large weight, 
 Ne ruby none that shineth by fcight, 
 Ne gentil hauten falcon her oner e,* 
 Ne hound for herte, wilde boar, or deer, 
 Ne cup of gold with florins new y-bet * 
 That in the land of Libye may ben get, 
 That Dido ne hath it ./Eneas y-sent : 
 
 AND ALL IS PAYED, WHAT THAT HE HATH 
 SPENT. 
 
 Thus can this honourable queen her guestes call, 
 As she that can in freedom passen all. 
 
 [Ver$e 178. p. 190. ed. 1602.] 
 
 In the romance of Troilus and Creseide, Chaucer 
 says 
 
 And after this the story telleth us 
 That she him gave the faire baye steed 
 The which she ones 3 won of Troilus, 
 And eke a broche 4 (and that was little need) 
 That Troilus' was she gave this Diomede ; 
 
 1 Gentil, hautaln, heronier. Fr. 
 
 ' Hi-. it. -ii, stamped, coined. 
 
 3 Once. * A clasp, or buckle; any jewel. Fr.
 
 [ 224- ] 
 
 And eke the bet* from sorrow him to relieve, 
 She made him wear a pencil * of her sleeve. 
 
 [B. V. st. 149. p. 179. ed. 1602.] 
 
 The attributes of chivalry and the fashions and 
 customs of the middle ages do not, perhaps, sit 
 very gracefully on classical characters ; but we are 
 glad to find them anywhere. 
 
 The following description of the entry of Troilus 
 into Troy is inserted, because it seems to have 
 suggested to Mr Gray some very beautiful lines in 
 his Latin epistle from Sophonisba to Massinissa ; 
 " Jam flexi regale decus," &c. (Letter to Mr 
 West, May 27, 1742.) 
 
 This Troilus sat on his baye steed 
 
 All armed, save his head, full richely, 
 
 And wounded was his horse, and gan to bleed, 
 
 On which he rode a pace full softely : 
 
 But such a knightly sighte, truely, 
 
 As was on him, was not withouten fail 
 
 To look on Mars that god is of battayle. 
 
 So like a man of armes and a knight 
 He was to seen, fulfill'd of high prowess, 
 For both he had a body, and [a] might 
 
 1 A small streamer ; pennoncd. Ft.
 
 C 225 ] 
 
 To doen that thing, as well as hardiness ; 
 And eke to seen him in his geare dress, 
 So fresh, so young, so wieldy seemed he, 
 It was an heaven upon him for to see. 
 
 His helm to-hewen was in twenty places, 
 
 That by a tissue hung his back behind, 
 
 His shield to-dash'd with swordes and with maces, 
 
 In whiche men might many an arrow find, 
 
 That thirled l had both home, nerve, and rind ; 
 
 And aye the people cried " Here com'th our joy, 
 
 " And, next his brother, holder up of Troy.'* 
 
 For which he wex'd a little red for shame, 
 When he so heard the people upon him cryen, 
 That to behold it was a noble game 
 How soberly he cast adown his eyen, 
 Creseide anon gan all his cheer espyen, 
 And let it so soft in her hearte sink. 
 
 [B. II. st. 83. foL 151. ed. 1602.] 
 
 The Romaunt of the Rose furnishes a great va- 
 riety of beautiful descriptions ; but they have been 
 frequently quoted, and are, probably, familiar to the 
 reader, who will, perhaps, be better pleased with the 
 following lines, containing advice on dress, and 
 
 1 Pierced through, Sax. Hence our thrill, and drilf. 
 VOL. I. ?
 
 [ 226 ] 
 
 directed to the fine gentlemen of the fourteenth 
 century. 
 
 And look alway that they be shape 
 (What garment that thou shalt make) 
 Of him that can best do ; 
 With all that pertaineth thereto : 
 ' Pointes and sleeves be well sittand, 
 Right and streight on the hand : 
 Of shone and bootes, new and fair, 
 Look, at the least, thou have a pair, 
 And that they sit sojetously* 
 That these rude [men} may utterly 
 Marvel, sith that they sit so plain, 
 How they come on or off again. 
 Wear streighte gloves, with aumere z 
 Of silk ; and alway with good cheer 
 Thou give, if thou have richess : 
 And if thou have nought, spend the less. 
 Alway be merry if thou may, 
 But waste not thy good alway. 
 Have hat of floures fresh as May ; 
 Chaplet of roses of Whitsunday ; 
 For such array ne costeth but lite. 3 
 Thine handes wash, thy teeth make white, 
 
 1 Neatly; " foot itfeatly." Shakspeare. 
 * 4umenierc, purse. 3 Little.
 
 [ 227 ] 
 
 And let no filth upon thee be. 
 
 Thy nailes black if thou raay'st see, 
 
 Void it away deliverly, * 
 
 And kembe * thine head right jolily. 
 
 FARCE NOT THY VISAGE IN NO WISE;* 
 
 For that of love is not th' emprise ; 
 
 For love doth haten, as I find, 
 
 A beauty that cometh not of kind. 
 
 [Rom. of the Rose, fol. 119. ed. 1602.]* 
 
 1 Quickly, a Comb. 
 
 3 This seems to imply that even the gentlemen of Chau- 
 cer's time were addicted to painting. 
 
 * The above extracts were in the first intance taken from 
 Urry's edition, in which the measure is, doubtless, more 
 uniformly smooth and harmonious than in the early printed 
 copies. But this agreeable effect having been produced by 
 unwarrantable interpolations, changes, and omissions (on 
 account of which the credit of Mr Urry's book has suffered 
 in the opinion of all good judges), it has been thought better 
 to revert to the bl. letter editions. These, till some able 
 English critic, following the example of the admirable Tyr- 
 whitt in the Canterbury Tales, shall have actually reformed 
 from a collation of MSS. the text of Chaucer's remaining 
 works, can alone J>e safely trusted, rude and faulty as they 
 may appear.
 
 [ 228 ] 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Same Period continued. John Barbour. Re- 
 marks on the Language of Scotland at this 
 Period. Sketch of the Bruce. Extracts 
 from that Poem. 
 
 AT the same time with Chaucer flourished JOHN 
 BARBOUR, archdeacon of Aberdeen. We learnfrom 
 Wyntown's Chronicle that he was author of a con- 
 siderable historical work, which has not descended 
 to posterity, called the Brute, comprising the whole 
 genealogy of the kings of Scotland, probably com- 
 piled from Geoffrey of Monmouth, or translated 
 from Wace. But he is only known to us by his bio- 
 graphical poem entitled the Bruce, containing a 
 history of the life and reign of Robert I. It is di- 
 vided, by its last editor, into twenty books, and 
 consists of about 14000 eight-syllable verses. 
 
 It has been already mentioned in the account of 
 Robert de Brunne, that the " Thomas" whom he 
 cites with so much praise, as author of the gest of 
 SirTristrem, is conjectured by Mr Tyrwhitt to be 
 Thomas of Ercildoun ; so that our ancestors appear
 
 [ 229 ] 
 
 to have been indebted to a Scotish poet for the 
 earliest model of a pure English style. But, be 
 this as it may, the very interesting poem now be- 
 fore us, the phraseology of which does not differ 
 in any material point from that of Chaucer and his 
 contemporaries, is a sufficient evidence that in our 
 attempts to trace the history, and mark the grada- 
 tions of our language, we have been much too in- 
 attentive to the progress of that language amongst 
 ur northern neighbours. 
 
 The learned and ingenious editor of the " Poeti- 
 cal Remains of James the First" has endeavoured to 
 account for the identity of speech in the two coun- 
 tries by a reference to historical documents. He 
 observes, that Malcolm III. (after the murder of his 
 father Duncan) was rescued from the hands of Mac- 
 beth, and carried into England, to the court of Ed- 
 ward the Confessor, where he received his educa- 
 tion ; and was afterwards ( 1057 ) replaced on the 
 throne of Scotland by means of an English army 
 commanded by Siward, earl of Northumberland. 
 Before this time, the residence of the kings of Scot- 
 land had been in the northern parts of the island ; 
 but Malcolm, soon after his restoration, removed 
 his court to Dunfermline, on the north of the Forth ; 
 either with the view of being nearer to a country for 
 which he had contracted a partiality, or, perhaps,
 
 [ 230 ] 
 
 for the purpose of securing himself, by the vicinity 
 of his own subjects in Cumberland, in case any 
 attempts might be made against him by the par- 
 tizans of Macbeth in the north. Not long after 
 this, Edgar Atheling, together with his mother and 
 sister, and a number of their adherents, having 
 been driven by a storm into the mouth of the 
 Forth, were received with great kindness by Mal- 
 colm, who ultimately espoused the princess Mar- 
 garet, and distributed grants of land among the 
 Anglo-Saxon nobles who had accompanied her. 
 
 From these premises Mr Tytler infers that Mal- 
 colm was the first cause of introducing into Scot- 
 land the Anglo-Saxon language, which he supposes 
 to have been disseminated over the Lowlands, 
 partly by means of these followers of Edgar Athe- 
 ling, and partly by means of the intercourse which 
 prevailed between the inhabitants of Scotland and 
 those of the four northern counties of England, 
 Cumberland, Northumberland, Westmoreland, and 
 Durham, which were held by the kings of Scotland 
 as fiefs of the crown of England. 
 
 This conjecture, however, does not seem to be 
 perfectly satisfactory ; nor are the causes in them- 
 selves sufficient to have wholly changed the lan- 
 guage of a country. If at the present moment the 
 Celtic language prevailed over the whole of Scot-
 
 C 231 ] 
 
 land, instead of being confined to the Highlands, 
 such a testimony would compel us to admit, either 
 that the Saxons and Danes had been prevented 
 by some unaccountable cause from attempting to 
 form a settlement on the northern shores of this 
 island, or that their attempts had been rendered 
 abortive by the superior bravery and skill of the 
 inhabitants. But, as the same Teutonic dialects 
 are found to form the basis of the language both 
 in England and in the Lowlands of Scotland, Mr 
 Hume has been induced, and apparently with great 
 reason, to infer from this similarity of speech a 
 similar series of successful invasions ; although this 
 success is not recorded by thehistorians of Scotland. 
 If this conclusion be admitted, it is evidently 
 unnecessary to refer us to the much later period of 
 Malcolm's reign ; or to seek in his marriage with 
 an English princess, in his distribution of lands 
 among her followers, or in the policy which in- 
 duced him to change his place of residence, for the 
 establishment of a language which the Saxons and 
 Danes could not fail of bringing with them ; and 
 which, if it had not been thus introduced, the in- 
 habitants of the plains would probably have rejected 
 as obstinately as those of the mountains. But the 
 principal difficulty is to account for the introduc- 
 tion into Scotland, not of the Anglo-Saxon, or
 
 C 232 ] 
 
 Danish, but of the English language ; of that com- 
 pound in which, as Mr Tyrwhitt has justly ob- 
 served, though the scheme andjbrmation were in a 
 great measure Saxon, a large proportion of the 
 elements was French. In the dissemination of this 
 the followers of Edward Atheling were not likely 
 to be instrumental, because, even if it had not been 
 already formed in England, instead of being the 
 result of their expulsion, they could not have 
 wished to introduce into the country which af- 
 forded them an asylum, a language which they 
 must have considered as a badge of slavery. The 
 phraseology of Barbour, of Wyntown, and of James 
 I., (though certainly marked by many peculiarities 
 of dialect) is not less Norman than that of their 
 respective English contemporaries, Chaucer, Hoc- 
 cleve, and Lydgate. In this case, neither the 
 French schools, nor the French laws, nor any part 
 of the tyrannical policy attributed to William the 
 Conqueror, can have had any influence, because 
 Scotland was never reduced under the Norman 
 dominion. 
 
 As the influx of French words did not begin to 
 produce a sensible change in the language of the 
 English till the beginning, or perhaps the middle, of 
 the thirteenth century, its importation from thence 
 into Scotland ought to be capable of being distinctly
 
 [ 233 ] 
 
 proved. We might expect, too, that as the succes- 
 sive improvements of the common language would 
 pass by slow gradations from the original into the 
 provincial idiom, the compositions of our native 
 bards would be clearly distinguished by superiority 
 of elegance, and that Barbour and Wyntown would, 
 like their successors, avow their obligations to their 
 English models. This, however, is not the case. 
 Wyntown has preserved a short elegiac sonnet on 
 the death of Alexander III. (1285) composed, as 
 it should seem, by a contemporary bard, and far 
 superior to any English song of that early date. 
 It is as follows : 
 
 When Alexander our king was dead, 
 That Scotland led in love and lee, f 
 
 Away was sons * of ale and bread, 
 
 Of wine and wax, ofgamyn and glee : 
 
 Our gold was changed into lead. 
 Christ ! born into virginity, 
 
 Succour Scotland and remede, 
 
 That stad 3 is in perplexity ! [Vol. I. p. 401.] 
 
 1 Lie, liasc , joyous, joy, Old Fr. 
 
 1 Cent. FT. The gloss, of the Bann. Poems translates it 
 hospitality : cent usually mrans census, tribute ; in some pro- 
 vinces it means a /arm, or tmall domain ; here it seems to 
 mean abundance, or, perhaps, produce. 
 
 3 Placed. The noun (stead) still remains in English.
 
 [ 234 ] 
 
 Nether Barbour nor Wyntown make mention of 
 Chaucer or of any anterior English writer, though 
 both are full of references to French authors, 
 whom they seem to consider as perfectly familiar 
 to their readers ; and Barbour expressly terms his 
 poem a romance, a proof that it was written on a 
 French model. 
 
 Upon the whole, unless we suppose Scotland to 
 have remained perfectly stationary during the pro- 
 gress of all their neighbours in civilization, it is 
 scarcely probable, even if the intercourse with 
 England had never existed, that they could have 
 persevered in retaining without any change the 
 very corrupted Anglo-Saxon dialect of the eleventh 
 century, and which, from that very imperfection, 
 was so susceptible of every necessary addition. 
 If they proceeded to enrich it with new terms, it 
 was natural that they, like the English, should 
 borrow these from the Norman Romance, the most 
 widely diffused and most cultivated language, ex- 
 cepting the Italian, of civilized Europe. It is also 
 evident that> as the French and Scotch were very 
 early united by interest and alliances, the progress 
 of the new language would neither be retarded by 
 that jealousy whichNthe native English entertained 
 of their conquerors, nor would it be checked by a 
 struggle with the Norman, which was spoken at
 
 C 235 ] 
 
 the courts of the English monarch* and of their 
 nobles ; whereas the dialect of the Scotish kings 
 was the same with that of their subjects. 
 
 This at least may be inferred from the manner 
 in which Wyntown notices the custom of Ed- 
 ward I. of addressing his hearers in French, and 
 from the care with which he records his original 
 words, and afterwards translates them for the be- 
 nefit of his readers. 
 
 When Sir Anton the Bek had done 
 His speak, the king him answered soon 
 All intUl Prankish, as used he, 
 " Par le sang Dieu, vous avez chante." 
 " By Goddis blood," he said, " ye sang : 
 " So shall not all our gaming gang." 
 
 (Vol. II. p. 46. See also pages 76, 83, and 
 87, for similar instances.) 
 
 Would it be very absurd to suppose that our 
 common language was separately formed in the 
 two countries, and that it has owed its identity to 
 its being constructed of similar materials, by simi- 
 lar gradations, and by nations in the same state of 
 society ? If this opinion should be thought very 
 improbable, must we not, at least, admit that the
 
 migration of our language from England into Scot- 
 land has not yet been fully established, and that 
 much remains for the investigation of future anti- 
 quaries ? 
 
 To return to Barbour. " He seems to have been 
 " born," says Mr Pinkerton, " about the year 1326. 
 " In 1357 it appears, from a passport published by 
 " Rymer, dated the 1 3th day of August in that year, 
 " that he was then archdeacon of Aberdeen. This 
 " passport permits him to go to Oxford, there to 
 " place three scholars to pursue their studies and 
 " scholastic exercises. By a deed, dated the 13th 
 " of September in the same year, also published 
 " by Rymer, we find our author appointed by the 
 " bishop of Aberdeen one of his commissioners 
 " to meet at Edinburgh concerning the ransom of 
 " David II. king of Scotland, then a prisoner in 
 " England. In 1365, Rymer gives us the title of 
 " another passport for John Barbour, archdeacon 
 " of Aberdeen, to go through England, with six 
 " knights in company, to St Denis, near Paris. 
 " All we find further evidenced relating to our 
 " author is, that he died aged, in the year 1396, 
 " as we learn from the chartulary of Aberdeen." 
 
 Barbour is to be considered in the double cha- 
 racter of historian and poet. In the first, his 
 
 12
 
 [ 237 ] 
 
 authority is quoted by writers who immediately 
 succeeded him as the most authentic that can be 
 adduced ; and Wyntown, in his " Orygynale Cro- 
 nikil," either professedly transcribes, or refers to 
 him, for the whole history of Bruce's reign. But 
 the attentive reader will probably think the au- 
 thenticity of his narrative better established by its 
 own internal evidence than it can be by such ex- 
 ternal testimony. The series of events is not only 
 related with as much attention to chronology as 
 was compatible with any degree of connection, or 
 interest, but is strictly conformable to the known 
 opinions and manners of the time, and clearly il- 
 lustrates the principles of policy by which Ed- 
 ward I. endeavoured to keep possession of Scot- 
 land, and the system of tactics adopted by Bruce, 
 for the purpose of weakening in detail a power 
 which he was unable to combat when united. 
 
 It is well known that the Anglo-Saxons and 
 Danes, though warlike nations, were very little 
 rersed in the art of constructing or attacking forti- 
 fied places. William the Conqueror, therefore, had 
 filled England with castles, which rendered the 
 position of his forces impregnable ; and Edward I. 
 having over-run the whole low country of Scot- 
 land, adopted the same expedient, and appeared to 
 be equally secure in his usurpation. Here the poem
 
 [ 238 ] 
 
 commences, and Barbour, contemplating the en- 
 slaved condition of his country, breaks out into the 
 following animated lines on the blessings of liberty: 
 
 Ah ! freedom is a noble thing ! 
 Freedom makes man to have liking ! 
 Freedom all solace to man gives ! 
 He lives at ease, that freely lives ! 
 A noble heart may have none ease, 
 Na ettys * nought that may him please, 
 If freedom fail : for free liking 
 Is yearned* o'er all other thing. 
 Na he that aye has lived free 
 May not know well the property, 
 The anger, na the wretched doom 
 That is coupled to foul thraldom. 
 But, if he had essayed it, 
 Then all perquer 3 he should it toit , 
 And should think freedom more to prize 
 Than all the gold in world that is. 
 Thus contrary things evermare 
 Discoverings of the tother are. 
 
 (B.I. verse 225.) 
 
 The misfortunes which attended Bruce during the 
 
 1 Nor else. * Eagerly desired. 
 
 3 Perfect!? ; parc&ur ?
 
 [ 239 ] 
 
 first years of his reign are well known, but Barbour'* 
 minute details give them a new interest. While his 
 hero is wandering among the mountains after the 
 fatal defeat of Methven, indebted to the ever-in- 
 ventive genius of Sir James Douglas for the scanty 
 supply of game and fish which was barely sufficient 
 for the subsistence of his new adherents ; obliged 
 to separate himself from his queen and family, to 
 traverse the whole country as an outlaw, and to seek 
 an asylum in the unfrequented island of Kuchrin ; 
 his biographer gives a circumstantial detail of his 
 daily difficulties, of his paternal solicitude for his 
 little army, of his personal exploits, and of the pa- 
 tience with which he submitted to more than a 
 soldier's share in the common hardships. 
 
 In this desperate situation he was relieved from 
 utter ruin by the death of his formidable antagonist 
 Edward I. and the supineness of his successor. But 
 Bruce had already faced his enemies, had formed 
 the plan which he never afterwards abandoned, and 
 had trained his followers to a mode of warfare which 
 could scarcely fail of success. Always watchful, 
 enterprising, and invisible, he fell upon the strag- 
 gling parties of his enemies by rapid and unexpected 
 marches, and easily eluded a contest with dispro- 
 portionate forces, in a country with which he was 
 intimately acquainted, but where they were under
 
 [ 240 ] 
 
 the necessity of trusting to unexperienced or faith- 
 less guides. Though often on the brink of ruin, 
 though actually hunted by blood- hounds, he never 
 despaired. Success gave him new friends, his con- 
 ciliating manners preserved the old ; fort after fort 
 was surprised, or reduced to surrender, and was 
 immediately dismantled, because he was sure of a 
 retreat in his native mountains ; whereas the de- 
 feats of his enemies became irretrievable. 
 
 It was in these circumstances, and when the 
 whole of Scotland was cleared of his enemies, that 
 he ventured his crown and life in the decisive bat- 
 tle of Bannock-burn, which crushed the whole 
 army, and nearly the courage, of the English. 
 This battle, on which Barbour naturally dwells 
 with considerable exultation, occupies two books, 
 the twelfth and thirteenth ; and the remaining se- 
 ren contain the exploits of Edward Bruce in Ire- 
 land ; the several predatory incursions into Eng- 
 land, which were undertaken by Douglas, Mur- 
 ray, and other leaders ; the death of Douglas in 
 Spain ; and all the remaining incidents of Robert 
 Bruce's reign. 
 
 In describing the campaign in Ireland, in which 
 the king had marched an army to the assistance 
 of his brother, Barbour suddenly stops to relate an 
 anecdote which a monkish historian would pro- 
 bably have thought beneath the dignity of history ;
 
 C i 3 
 
 but the simple and affectionate heart of our poet 
 would have prompted him to risk a much greater 
 indecorum for the purpose of illustrating the hu- 
 mane character of his hero. The king was at this 
 time preparing to return with his army from the 
 south of Ireland towards Carrickfergus. 
 
 And when that they all ready were, 
 The king has heard a woman cry ; 
 He asked what that was in hy. 1 
 " I^is the layndar,* sir," said one, 
 " That her child-ill right now has tane : 
 " And moo leave now behind us here ; 
 " Therefore she makes yon evil cheer." 
 The king said, " Certs, it were pity 
 " That she in that point left should be ; 
 " For certs, I trow there is no man 
 " That he ne will rue a woman than." 
 His host all there arrested he, 
 And gert 3 a tent soon stinted 4 be ; 
 And gert her gang in hastily, 
 And other women to be her by. 
 While she was delivered, he bade, 
 And syne forth on his way is rade, 
 
 1 In haste. 
 
 a Layndar, or lavender, a laundress, washer-woman. La~ 
 tendiere, Fr. 8 Caused. * Stretched. 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 [ 242 ] 
 
 And, how she forth should carried be, 
 Or ever he forth fur, * ordained he. 
 This was a full great courtesy ! 
 That ftvilk a king and so mighty 
 Gert his men dwell on this manner 
 But for a poor lavender ! 
 
 [B. XVI. verse 270.] 
 
 This little incident, and innumerable details con- 
 tained in Barbour's narrative, shew that it must have 
 been very principally compiled from the relations 
 of eye-witnesses. Hence the variety in his descrip- 
 tions of battles, which are as much diversified as 
 the scenery of the country where they were fought. 
 But a soldier will sometimes exaggerate the exploits 
 of a leader in whose glory he participates ; and 
 Barbour was occasionally in a very awkward di- 
 lemma between his love of veracity and his fear of 
 depreciating the value of a hero to whom, in his 
 own opinion, no efforts were impossible. Of this 
 there is a curious instance in the beginning of the 
 sixth Book, where Bruce singly discomfits a body 
 of two hundred men of Galloway, of whom he kills 
 fourteen. Barbour seems to have hesitated ; but 
 fortunately his learning comes in aid of his propen- 
 sity : he recollects a parallel instance in the history 
 of Thebes, relates it much at length, and thus si- 
 1 Fared.
 
 [ 24S ] 
 
 Icnces all his scruples : those of his readers proba- 
 bly would hive been still more easily satisfied. 
 
 Barbour's poetical character cannot be more cor- 
 rectly described than in the words of his editor. 
 " Here indeed," says Mr Pinkerton, " the reader 
 " will find few of the graces of fine poetry, little of 
 " the Attic dress of the Muse ; but here are life, and 
 " spirit, and ea^e, and plain sense, and pictures of 
 " real manners, and perpetual incident, and enter- 
 " tainment. The language is remarkably good for 
 " the time ; and far superior, in neatness and ele- 
 " gance, even to that of Gawin Douglas, who 
 " wrote more than a century after/* 
 The following extract from the Bruce is selected, 
 not as giving the most brilliant specimen of Bar- 
 bour's poetical talent, but as forming a distinct epi- 
 sode, and consequently possessing an independent 
 interest ; and because it is sufficiently long to af- 
 ford a fair estimate of the poet's general style and 
 language, and is an example of the fashionable 
 mode of argument in that story-telling age, when 
 apologue was necessary even in the eloquence of 
 the pulpit, and employed in the discussion of the 
 fate of armies and of empires. 
 
 Douglas is represented as dissuading Murray 
 from hazarding a battle against the superior forces 
 of Edward III.
 
 [ 244 ] 
 
 The Lord Douglas said, " By Saint Bride, 
 
 " It were great folly at this tide 
 
 " Till us with stvilk an host to fight : 
 
 " It growis, ilka day, of might, 
 
 " And has victual therewith plenty ; 
 
 " And in their country here are we, 
 
 " Where there may come us no succours ; 
 
 " Hard is to make us here rescours ;* 
 
 " Na we us mayferrar * meat to get : 
 
 " Swilk as we have here we mon eat. 
 
 " Do we with our foes therefore, 
 
 " That are here lyand us before, 
 
 " As ich heard tell this other year 
 
 " That a fox did with a fisher." 
 
 " How did the fox ?" the earl gan say. 
 
 He said, " A fisher whilom lay 
 
 " Besides a river, for to get 
 
 " His nets that he had therin set. 
 
 " A little lodge thereby he made ; 
 
 " And there-within a bed he had, 
 
 And a little fire also. 
 
 " A door there \vas,jbroutyn 3 mo. 
 
 " A nighty his nettis for to see, 
 
 " He rose ; and there well long dwelt he. 
 
 1 Rescue. Fr. * Farther. 
 
 * Without.
 
 [ 245 ] 
 
 " And when he had done his deed, 
 
 " Toward his lodge again he yeid ,* ' 
 
 " And, with light of the little fire, 
 
 " That in the lodge was brynand* sckyr, 3 
 
 " Intill his lodge a fox he saw, 
 
 " That fast on a salmon gan gnaw. 
 
 " Then till the door he went in hy, 
 
 " And drew his sword deliverly : 
 
 " And said, ' Reiffar ! you mon here out 1* 
 
 " The fox, that was in full great doubt, 
 
 " Looked about, some hole to see; 
 
 " But none issue perceive couth he, 
 
 " But where the man stood sturdily. 
 
 " A lauchtane* mantle then him by 
 
 " Lyand upon the bed he saw ; 
 
 " And with his teeth he gan it draw 
 
 " Outo'er the fire : and when the man 
 
 " Saw his mantle lye brynand than, 
 
 *' To rid it ran he hastily. 
 
 " The fox got out then in great hy, 
 
 " And held his way his -warrand 6 till. 
 
 " The man let him beguiled ill, t 
 
 ' Went, hied. * Hurning. 
 
 3 Clear. Anglo-Sax, seyrc. 4 Be- reaver, reaver, robber. 
 
 5 Mr Pinkerton is unable to explain this word. Query, 
 if it be Lout/nan, the place where it was manufactured, or 
 where such mantles were usually worn ? 
 
 ? Place of security. Garant.fr. Warrant, warren, ling.
 
 [ 246 ] 
 
 " That he his good salmon had tynt, * 
 
 " And also had his mantle brynt ; * 
 
 ' " And the fox scaithless 3 got away. 
 
 " This ensample well I may say 
 
 " By yon host and us that are here : 
 
 " We are the fox ; and they the fisher, 
 
 " That steks *farouth * us the way. 
 
 " They ween we may na get away, 
 
 " But right where they lie. But, pardie, 
 
 " All as they think it shall not be ; 
 
 " For I have gert see us a gate 6 
 
 " (Suppose that it be some deal wet) 
 
 " A page of ours we shall not tyne. 7 
 
 " Our foes, for this small truantine, 8 
 
 " Meanis well we shall pride us siaa 9 
 
 " That we plainly on hand shall ta I0 
 
 " To give them openly bataill : 
 
 " But at this time their thought shall fail. 
 
 1 Lost. 
 
 * Burnt ; in old English, brent. The place of the vnwel 
 4D s uch words was, during u long period, undetermined. 
 3 Without harm. 4 Bars, shuts. 
 
 5 Before. 6 Way. 7 Lose. 
 
 8 Wandering. Fr. It seems to mean, " Our foes hope 
 " that, to avoid this little circuit, we shall be so proud as to 
 " give them battle." 
 
 9 So. 10 Take.
 
 C 247 ] 
 
 " For we tomorn here all the day 
 " Shall make us merry as we may ; 
 " And make us boon again the night ; 
 " And then ger make our fires light, 
 *' And blow our hornys, and make fare 
 " As all the world our owne were, 
 " While that the night well fallen be ; 
 *' And then, with all our harness, we 
 " Shall take our way homeward in hi/. 
 " And we shall gyit * be graithly, * 
 " While we be out of their dangere 
 " That lyes now enclosed here. 
 " Then shall we all be at our will : 
 " And they shall let them trumpet ill, 
 " Fra they tvyt well we be away." 
 To this wholly assented they. 
 
 [B. XIX. verse 635.] 
 
 The story here told by Douglas has every ap- 
 pearance of being a French fabliau : and Harbour 
 has unquestionably borrowed from the same lan- 
 guage the romance of Fierabras, which the king 
 relates to his followers during their tedious passage 
 of Loch Lomond (See Book III. v. 435. edit. 
 1790.) It is not transcribed here, because it 
 
 1 GtiUed. * Cautioiul v- 5
 
 [ 248 ] 
 
 unnecessary to multiply extracts from a work which 
 is so easily attainable : it might, indeed, be proper 
 to apologize for the length of the foregoing speci- 
 men, but that the capricious and obsolete ortho- 
 graphy of the ancient MS. to which Mr Pinker- 
 ton assures us he has (with great propriety) scru- 
 pulously adhered, may possibly have deterred ma- 
 ny readers from attempting to peruse this very cu- 
 rious and entertaining historical poem.
 
 24-9 ] 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Reign of Henry IV. Andrew of Wyntown 
 Extracts from his Chronicle of Scotland. 
 Thomas Hoccleve. Anonymous English 
 Poetry. 
 
 OF WYNTOWN claims a place in our 
 catalogue of English poets in consequence of ha- 
 ving written, in tolerable eight-syllable verse, and 
 in very pure language, his " Orygynale Cronykil 
 of Scotland" from the creation of the world to the 
 year 14O8. This is a very curious work, of which 
 a most sumptuous and apparently correct edition 
 (in 2 vols. large 8vo,) from a comparison of the 
 best MSS. has lately (1795) been given to the 
 public by Mr Macpherson, together with a list of 
 various readings, many valuable historical notes, a 
 copious index, and a most useful glossary. 
 
 All the information that the learned editor has 
 been able to collect respecting his author amounts 
 to this : that Andrew of Wyntown was a canon 
 regular of the priory of St Andrews, and that, in 
 or before the year 1395, he was, by the favour of 
 his fellow-canons, elected prior of the monastery
 
 [ 250 ] 
 
 Of St Serf's island, in Loch-Levin, one of the most 
 ancient religious establishments in Scotland. As 
 he was not likely to be chosen for such an office 
 in very early youth, and as he complains much of 
 the infirmities of age while occupied in his Chro- 
 nicle, which appears from internal evidence to 
 have been finished between the years 14-20 and 
 14-24-, he was probably born not long after the 
 middle of the fourteenth century. 
 
 With respect to his poetical talents, the opinion 
 of his editor is, that " though his work in general 
 " partakes little or nothing of the nature of poetry, 
 " unless rhyme can be said to constitute poetry, yet 
 " he now and then throws in some touches of true 
 " poetic description." This, indeed, seems to be as 
 much as can be fairly expected from a metrical 
 annalist ; for dates and numerals are of necessity 
 unpoetical ; and, perhaps, the ablest modern versi- 
 fier who should undertake to enumerate in metre 
 the years of our Lord in only one century would 
 feel some respect for the ingenuity with which 
 Wyntown has contrived to vary his rhymes through- 
 out such a formidable chronological series as he 
 has ventured to encounter. His genius is certain- 
 ly inferior to that of his predecessor, Barbour ; but, 
 at least, his versification is easy, his language pure, 
 and his style often animated. As an historian, he
 
 [ 251 J 
 
 is highly valuable ; but, perhaps, it may be more 
 amusing to the reader to examine him both as a 
 narrator and as a poet in the early and nearly 
 fabulous part of his work, for which purpose some 
 extracts are here selected from his history of 
 Macbeth. 
 
 It is well known that Shakspeare's immediate 
 model was Holinshed, who abridged the work of 
 Bellenden, translated from the Latin of Boyse. 
 Wyntown's narrative is in some respects very dif- 
 ferent, and, in one instance at least, is much more 
 dramatic. 
 
 This author gives the following as the popular 
 and fabulous account of Macbeth's parentage : 
 
 But, as we find by some stories, 
 Gotten he was on * ,ferly* wise. 
 His mother to woods made oft repair 
 For the delight of wholesome air. 
 So she past upon a day 
 Til a wood, her for to play; 
 She met of case 3 with a fair man 
 (Ne'er none so fair as she thought fhan 
 Before then had she seen with sight,) 
 Of beauty pleasant, and of height 
 
 ID. * Wonderful. 
 
 3 By chance ; per cat. Fr. 
 
 12
 
 C 252 ] 
 
 Proportion'd well, in all measure, 
 Of limb and lyth T a fair figure. 
 In sivilfc acquaintance so they fell, 
 That, thereof shortly for to tell, 
 
 (Vol. I. p. 227.) 
 
 The reader certainly has foreseen that this very, 
 beautiful man was no other than the devil, who 
 became the father of Macbeth, as he had, some 
 centuries before, become the father of Merlin ; and 
 who presented to his paramour a ring, in token that 
 their future son should be a great man, and that 
 
 " No man should be born of wife 
 " Of power to 'reave him his life." 
 
 Macbeth's ambition is excited, not by actually 
 meeting the weird sisters, but, by a dream : 
 
 A night z he thought in his dreaming 
 That sittand 3 he was beside the king 
 At a seat in hunting : so 
 Intil his leash had grey-hounds two. 
 He thought, while he was so sittand, 
 He saw three women by gangand ; *. 
 
 1 Joint; lilhaneaso. Goth. 2 t. e. one night. 
 
 3 Sitting : and is the old Saxon as well as French termi- 
 nation of the participle. * Going.
 
 [ 253 ] 
 
 And they " women then thought he 
 
 Three weird sisters most like to be. 
 
 The first he- heard say, gangand by, 
 
 '* Lo ! yonder the thane of Crumbauchty !" 
 
 The 'tother woman said again, 
 
 " Of Moray yonder I see the thane." 
 
 The third then said, " I see the king." 
 
 All this he heard in his dreaming. 
 
 Soon after that, in his youth-head, 
 
 Of thyr * thanedoms he thane was made ; 
 
 Syne next he thought to be king, 
 
 Fra 3 Duncan's days had ta'en ending. 
 
 The fantasy thus of his dream 
 
 Moved him most to slay his emef 
 
 As he did all forth indeed, 
 
 As before he heard me rede, 
 
 And dame Gruok his erne's wife 
 
 Took, and led with her his life, 
 
 And held her both his wife and queen. 
 
 (Vol. I. p. 225.) 
 
 The story of Lady Macbeth, therefore, seems to 
 have been afterwards added. Duncan's two legi- 
 timate sons and Malcolm (who it seems was illc- 
 
 1 These, or those : in the original thai, * TNese. 
 
 3 From ; from the time when; as soon as. 
 
 4 Uncle. Anglo-Sax.
 
 [ 254- ] 
 
 gitimate) fly to England : but the enmity between 
 the usurper and Macduff has a separate origin. 
 
 Macbeth, according to Wyntown, meaning to 
 fortify the hill at Dunsinnane, pressed all the 
 teams in the neighbourhood, and having observed 
 some oxen, the property of Macduff, to fail in 
 their work, he threatened " despiteously" to put 
 Macduff J s own neck into the yoke. The subse- 
 quent conduct of the thane of Fife is thus minute- 
 ly and curiously related : 
 
 Fra the thane Macbeth heard speak 
 That he would put in yoke his neck, 
 Of all his thought he made no song ; 
 But privily out of the throng 
 With slight he got ; and the spensere x 
 A loaf him gave till his suppere. 
 And, as soon as he might see 
 His time and opportunity, 
 Out of the court he past, and ran, 
 And that loaf bare with him than 
 To the water of Erin. That bread 
 He gave the boat-wards, him to lead, 
 And on the south half him to set 
 But * delay or any let. 
 
 1 Le dispensier ; the dispenser of provision*. 
 * Without; be-out. Sax.
 
 [ 255 ] 
 
 That passage call'd was after than 
 
 Longtime PORT NEBARYAN; 
 
 The HAVEN OF BREAD that should be 
 
 Called in-tyl property. 
 
 (Vol. I. p. 230.) 
 
 Then follows a fine Gothic incident. Macduff, 
 aware that his flight would be discovered, and that 
 he shpuld be immediately pursued, pusses through 
 Fife to his strong castle of Kennauchy, a ; id then 
 proceeds to hasten the march of the English forces ; 
 having first apprised his wife of his intention, and 
 directed her to " hold Macbeth in fair treaty" till 
 she should discover a boat sailing to the south- 
 ward ; at sight of which she should inform the king 
 that his enemy was escaped to England, but would 
 speedily meet him in arms at Dunsinnane. 
 
 Til Kennauchy Macbeth came soon, 
 Andfehiy ' great there would been done ; 
 But this lady with fair treaty 
 His purpose letted 1 done to be. 
 And soon,y> she the sail up saw 
 Then til Macbeth with little awe 
 She said, " Macbeth look up, and sec, 
 " Under you sail forsooth is he, 
 " The thane of Fife whom thou host sought. 
 " Trow thou well, and doubt right nought, 
 ; Ftlonie. Fr. ; crtieltv. * 1'revi'nti-tl.
 
 [ 256 ] 
 
 " If ever thou shall see him again, 
 " He shall thee set intil great pain ; 
 " Syne thou would have put his neck 
 " Intil the yoke. Now will I speak 
 " With thee no more : fare on thy way, 
 " Either well, or ill, as happen may." 
 
 (P. 232.) 
 
 Had Shakspeare met with this spirited scene, 
 he would probably have been glad to contrast the 
 heroine of Fife with the ferocious Lady Macbeth, 
 as well as to have saved the miserable contrivance 
 of sending three murderers to destroy the wife 
 and children of a powerful thane in a fortified and 
 garrisoned castle. 
 
 The conversation between Malcolm and Mac- 
 duff, (Shaksp. Act IV. Scene I.,) and the incident 
 of Birnam wood, are told nearly in the same way 
 by Holinshed and Wyntown : only the death of 
 Macbeth is attributed not to Macduff, but to a 
 certain knight, who had been brought into the 
 world by means of the Caesarean operation. 
 
 Thejlyttand 1 wood they called aye 
 That, long time after-hand that day. 
 Of this when he had seen that sight, 
 He was right wo, and took the flight : 
 1 Moving.
 
 C 257 ] 
 
 And o'er the Mount they chas'd him than 
 
 Til the wood of Lunfanan. 
 
 This MacdufF was there most fell, 
 
 And on that chace then most cruel. * 
 
 But a knight, that in that chace 
 
 Til this Macbeth then nearest was, 
 
 Macbeth turned him again, 
 
 And said, " Lurdane, 3 thou pricks in vain : 
 
 " For thou may nought be he, I trow, 
 
 '* That to dead shall slay me now. 
 
 " That man is not born of wife 
 
 " Of power to reave me of my life.*' 
 
 The knight said, " I was never born, 
 
 " But of my mother's womb was shorn. 
 
 " Now shall thy treason here take end, 
 
 " For to thy father I shall thee send." 
 
 [P. 239.] 
 
 The last line seems to contain an allusion to Mac- 
 beth's supposed birth, and to be a return for the 
 injurious appellation of lurdane. 
 
 Wyntown, in his account of king Arthur, men- 
 tions, among the historians of his gests, an author 
 who is totally unknown to our poetical antiquaries. 
 
 ' The hill, i. e. the mountains now commonly called tbc 
 Grampian*. 
 * Keen, steady. 
 
 3 Clumsy fellow; lour Join. Old FT. 
 VOL. I. R
 
 C 258 .3 
 
 He calls him " HUCHOWN OF THE AWLE RYALE," 
 and tells us that 
 
 He made the great gest of Arthure, 
 
 And the aventure of Gawane ; 
 
 The 'pistle ah of sweet Susane. 
 
 [Vol. I. p. 122.] 
 
 Mr Macpherson seems to think that Huchown 
 ( Hugh ) may be the Christian name of the Clerk 
 of Tranent, 
 
 " That made the aventures of Sir Gawane."* 
 [D unbar 's Lament, Bannatyne Poems, p. 76.] 
 
 But perhaps he was the author of the Norman ori- 
 ginal, and Wyntovra's anxiety to establish the au- 
 thenticity of his narrative may be explained by 
 his general fondness for exploits of chivalry, a sub- 
 ject on which he always dwells with pleasure. 
 
 The love of tournaments, indeed, seems to have 
 been carried almost to madness in Scotland, as well 
 as in England, before the general adoption of fire- 
 arms ; as will appear from Wyntown's account of 
 these exhibitions at Berwick about the year 1338. 
 But we must first exhibit the state of the country 
 at the time of this festivity. 
 
 * Air Pinkerton, in the " Preliminaries" to his " Scotish 
 " Poems," (p. xxxv. note) suggests, " that this poet is Sir 
 " Hew of Eglinton, mentioned by Dunbar as preceding 
 " Winton in time."
 
 [ 259 ] 
 
 About Perth then was the country 
 So waste, that wonder was to see ; 
 For intil well great space thereby 
 Was neither house left, na kerbry.* 
 Of deer there was then steilkfoyso-uan z 
 That they would near come to the town. 
 So great default was near that stead, 
 That many were in hunger dead. 
 
 A carl, they said, was near thereby, 
 That would set settys 3 commonly 
 Children and women for to sla, 4 
 And swains that he might over-ta, * 
 And eat them all that he get might ; 
 Christian Klek tyl name he hight. 6 
 That sorry life continued he 
 While waste, but 7 folk, was the country. 
 
 [Vol. II. p. 236.] 
 
 Such were the consequences of war in the rich 
 neighbourhood of Perth ; and the " Forest," the 
 scene of Douglas's exploits, and the environs of 
 Berwick, were not likely to be much better culti- 
 vated, when Sir Henry of Lancaster, earl of Derby, 
 impatient of the inactivity attendant on a truce, 
 
 1 Harbour, lodging ; llcrbcnger. Fr. 
 
 * Plenty, Fr. 3 Traps. * Slay. 
 
 3 Overtake. Was called. 7 WitlioHt.
 
 [ 260 ] 
 
 repaired to the frontiers to request of Douglas 
 " three courses of war." This justing, though it 
 ended without bloodshed, was so satisfactory to all 
 parties, that it produced a second, in which twenty 
 combatants appeared on a side. 
 
 Upon the morn, when that they * were 
 
 Makand them boon, z himself* came there, 
 
 And found all open the entry ; 
 
 And, nought-worthy ; 4 there knocked he, 
 
 Without the door all privily ; 
 
 While Ramsay til him came in hy 
 
 And gert him enter. Soon then he 
 
 Said, " God mot at your liking be !" 
 
 Syne said he, " Lords, on what mannere 
 
 " Will ye run at this justing here ?" 
 
 " With plate shieldis," said Ramsay, 
 
 " As it affairs 5 to this play." 
 
 " Ah siris, by our Lord," said he, 
 
 " So should no man here prized be, 
 
 * f For none til other might do ill : 
 
 " But, and 6 it likand were you til 
 
 " As men hostayis 7 for to ryn, 8 
 
 " So might men price of worship win." 
 
 1 The Scotch knights. * Ready. 
 
 3 The earl of Derby. 4 Nevertheless. 
 
 s Belongs ; afferis, Original. 6 If. 
 
 7 Enemies? 8 Run.
 
 [ 261 ] 
 
 Quod Alexander the Ramsay, 
 
 " It shall like til us all, parfay, 
 
 " That ilk man ryn his fellow til 
 
 In kirtle " alone, if that ye will." 
 
 The earl said then debonairly, 
 
 " Nay, that is all too hard truly.'* 
 
 Quod William of the Towers than, 
 
 *' Sir, gyve ye na will let ilk man 
 
 " Ryn all bare visage, and ye 
 
 " Who eschews first right soon shall see." 
 
 The earl said meekly, " Siris, nay, 
 
 " Yet that is all too hard, parfay : 
 
 " But, as i said you, will ye do ? 
 
 " There should some price follow us to." 
 
 Thereto they all gave their consent, 
 
 And he forth til his fellows went. 
 
 [Vol. II. p. 221.] 
 
 This tournament, the description of which occu- 
 pies about a hundred lines, must have been very 
 magnificent, for two English knights were killed, 
 one of the Scotish knights died of his wounds, and 
 another, Sir William the Ramsay, had his head 
 pierced with a spear, so that a priest was sent for 
 to receive his confession, which he gave without 
 taking off his helmet ; a circumstance which " the 
 
 1 Under-garment ; tunic. Anglo-Sax.
 
 [ 262 ] 
 
 good earl of Derby" considered as so very agree* 
 able, that he exclaimed 
 
 I would God of his grace would send 
 To me on siilk manere to end ! 
 
 (P. 223.) 
 
 But the preceding extract was transcribed chiefly 
 because it gives such a minute description of the 
 ceremonies which constituted the politeness or 
 " courtesy" of our ancestors. The Scotish knights, 
 we see, kept their door constantly open, but Lord 
 Derby was too great a proficient in civility to enter 
 without an express invitation. The open door, it 
 seems, was indispensable on such occasions, as 
 being a symbol of knightly hospitality; and for 
 this reason it is carefully noted by our author on 
 another occasion. In 1408 the Earl of Mar passed 
 ever into France 
 
 With a noble company 
 Well array 'd and daintily, 
 
 Knights and squires, great gentlemen, &c. 
 
 ****** 
 
 In Paris he held & royal state, 
 At the sign known the Tin-plate ; 
 All the time that he was there 
 Bidandy T twelve weeks full and mare. 
 1 Abiding, dwelling.
 
 [ 263 ] 
 
 DOOR AND GATE BOTH GERT HE 
 
 AYE STAND OPEN, that men might se * 
 Enter all time at their pleas ance, 
 Til eat or drink, or sing or dance. 
 Of all nations generally 
 Commended he was greatumly 
 Of wit, virtue, and largess. 
 
 (Vol. II. p. 4-24. J 
 
 Many more particulars respecting tournaments 
 may be found in the account of Sir David Lind- 
 say's duel with " the Lord of the Wellis," (Vol. II. 
 p. 353, ) and in other parts of the work. 
 
 Upon the whole, Wyntown's Chronicle is cer- 
 tainly a valuable acquisition to our stock of early 
 literature. It is a curious specimen of language 
 and poetry, and contains much information for the 
 historical antiquary. The more indolent reader 
 will perhaps be amused to observe the instances 
 of our holy prior's credulity : as, for instance, the 
 miracles related to St Serf (Vol. I. p. 130) ; a still 
 more singular miracle (I. 152) ; the story of Pope 
 Joan (I. 165); the tales in the thirteenth chapter 
 of book vi. (1. 194) ; and the story of Matilda, wife 
 of our Henry I., which is usually applied to the Lady 
 Godiva (II. 50.) Tlu's credulity, however, was the
 
 [ 264- ] 
 
 characteristic of the age rather than of the writer : 
 and a knowledge of the opinions and prejudices of 
 mankind is always a necessary comment on their 
 actions. From a want of this knowledge, which 
 no ingenuity can bestow, and which, from the 
 scantiness of original materials, no diligence can 
 acquire, our modern surveys of history are always 
 to -a certain degree insipid. The distance from 
 which we view the scene of action is too great ; the 
 principal groups may remain, but the features and 
 countenances vanish. Those, therefore, who are so 
 inquisitive as to wish for the portraits of the actors 
 must consult the gossipping histories of contem- 
 porary writers ; must associate with Froissart and 
 Wyntown, submit to the punctilio and formality of 
 the times, and listen to long stories with compla- 
 cency and patience. 
 
 Of Wyntown's English contemporaries there is 
 only one whose name has descended to posterity. 
 This is THOMAS OCCLEVE, or HOCCLEVE, " a fee- 
 ** ble writer," says Mr Warton, " considered as a 
 " poet : and his chief merit seems to be, that his 
 " writings contributed to propagate and establish 
 " those improvements in our language, which were 
 " now beginning to take place. He was educated 
 " in the municipal law, as were both Chaucer and 
 " Gower ; and it reflects no small degree of ho-
 
 265 ] 
 
 " nour on that very liberal profession, that its stu- 
 " dents were some of the first who attempted to 
 " polish and adorn the English tongue." 
 
 Since the publication of Mr Warton's history, a 
 selection from Hoccleve's poems has been printed 
 by Mr Mason, and has proved the justice of the 
 foregoing criticism. The most favourable specimen 
 of Hoccleve's poetry is his Story ofJonathas, which 
 the reader will find in the " Shepherd's Pipe," by 
 William Browne, author of Britannia's Pastorals. 
 
 As it is not easy to select a tolerable extract 
 from this writer, I shall here insert two specimens 
 of contemporary though anonymous poetry, both 
 of which possess considerable merit. The first is 
 taken from Mr Ritson's very curious collection of 
 Ancient Songs, p. 44. 
 
 " Again my iciU I take my leave" 
 
 Now Bairnes buirdes* bold and blithe, 
 To blessen you here now am I bound ; 
 
 I thank you all a thousand sithe* 
 
 And pray God save you whole and sound. 
 
 1 Bairnt are gentlemen, barons ; buird, bird, or bride, it a 
 common name for young women : but perhaps the word in 
 (his place may be an abbreviation of brydesl. Sax. most 
 noble. * Tiiut-s.
 
 [ 266 ] 
 
 Where'er ye go, on grass of ground, 
 He you govern withouten greve ! * 
 
 For friendship that I here have found, 
 Again my will I take my leave. 
 
 For friendship, and for giftes good, 
 
 For meat and drink so great plenty, 
 That Lord that raught * was on the rood,* 
 
 He keep this comely company : 
 On sea or land, where that ye be, 
 
 He govern you withouten greve ; 
 So good disport ye han * made me> 
 
 Again my will I take my leave. 
 
 Again my will although I wend, 
 
 I may not alway dwellen here : 
 For every thing shall have an end, 
 
 And friendes are not aye y-feref 
 Be we never so lief and dear, 
 
 Out of this world all shall we meve ; * 
 And when we busk 7 unto our bier 
 
 Again our will we take our leave. 
 
 1 Griefc * Stretched, 
 
 3 Cross. 4 Have. 
 
 5 Together. * Move, remote, 
 Go.
 
 E 267 ] 
 
 And wend we shall : I wot ne'er when, 
 
 Ne whither-ward that we shall fare : 
 But endless bliss, or aye to bren,* 
 
 To every man is yarked yare* 
 For this, I rede, 3 each man beware ; 
 
 And let our work our wordes preve,* 
 So that no sin our soulforfare 5 
 
 When that our life hath taken his leave. 
 
 When that our life his leave hath lauht, 6 
 
 Our body lieth bounden by the w&iue, 7 
 Our riches all from us be raft, 
 
 In clottes could our corse is throw. 
 Where are thy friends ? who will thee know ? 
 
 Let see who will thy soul relieve ? 
 I rede thee, man, ere thou lie low, 
 
 Be ready aye to take thy leave. 
 
 Be ready aye, whate'er befall, 
 AH suddenly lest thou be kiht : * 
 
 Thou tvost 9 ne'er when thy Lord will call ; 
 Look that thy lamp be brenning bright. 
 
 1 Burn. 2 Prepared, ready. 
 
 3 Advise. 4 Prove. 
 
 J Forfeit, lose, destroy. 6 Left, i. r. taken. 
 7 Wow, is care, misery, &c. ; but the construction is by 
 o means clear. * Caugbt. " Known t.
 
 C 268 3 
 
 For 'leoe l me well, but thou have light, 
 Right foul thy Lord will thee repreve, 
 And fame * thee far out of his sight, 
 For all too late thou took thy leave. 
 
 Now God that was in Bethlem bore, 3 
 
 He give us grace to serve him so, 
 That we may come his face to-fore,* 
 
 Out of this world when we shall go ; 
 And for to amend that we mis-do, 
 
 In clay or that we cling and cleave ; 
 And make us even with friend and foe, 
 
 And in good time to take our leave. 
 
 Now haveth good day, good men all, 
 
 Haveth good day, both great and small, 
 Haveth good day, both great and small, 
 
 And graunt-merci s a thousand fold ! 
 Gif 6 ever I might, full fain I wold 
 
 Don 7 ought that were unto you levef 
 Christ keep you out of cares cold ! 
 
 For now is time to take my leave. 
 
 1 Believe. * Banish. Sax. 
 
 3 Born. * Before. 
 
 5 Grand-merci, Fr. gramraercy, thanks. 
 
 6 If. 7 Doen, do. 
 8 Lie/, agreeable. 
 
 6
 
 [ 269 ] 
 
 The second poem is of a very different cast : it 
 is a transcript from the Cotton MS. Galb. E. ix. 
 " perhaps," says Mr Warton, (III. p. 93,) " coeval 
 " with Chaucer, which describes the power of mo- 
 " ney with great humour, and in no common vein 
 " of satire." 
 
 Incipit Narratio de Domino Denario. 
 
 In earth it is a little thing, 
 And reigns ah a riche king, 
 
 Where he is lent in land : 
 SIR PENNY is his name call'd : 
 He makes both young and aid 
 
 Bow untill his hand. 
 
 Popes, kings, and emperours, 
 Bishops, abbots, and priours, 
 
 Parson, priest, and knight, 
 Dukes, earls, and ilk baroiin, 
 To serve him they are full boun f 
 
 Both by day and night. 
 
 Sir Penny changes manes mood, 
 And gars * them oft do down their hood, 
 And to rise him again : } 
 
 1 Boon, ready. * Cantts. 
 
 ' Against, before him.
 
 270 ] 
 
 Men honours him with great reverence, 
 Makes full mickle obedience 
 Unto that little swain. 
 
 In kinges court is it no boot 
 Against Sir Penny for to moot ; T 
 
 So mickle is he of might : 
 He is so witty and so strong, 
 That be it never so mickle wrong, 
 
 He will make it right. 
 
 With Penny may men women till, * 
 Be they never so strange of will ; 
 
 So oft may it be seen j 
 Long with him will they not chide, 
 For he may ger them trail side 3 
 
 In good scarlet and green. 
 
 He may buy both heaven and hell, 
 And ilka thing that is to sell, 
 
 In earth has he sivilk grace : 
 He may lese, and he may bind, 
 The poor are aye put behind 
 
 Where he comes in place. 
 
 1 Plead. * Approach, gain. 
 
 * Wear trailing gowns ?
 
 [ 271 ] 
 
 When he begins him to mell, 
 He makes meek that ere was fell, 
 
 And weak that bold has been : 
 All the needs full soon are sped, 
 Both withouten borgh and tued f 
 
 Where Penny goes between. 
 
 The domes-men * he makes so blind, 
 That hi may not the right find, 
 
 Ne the sooth to see ; 
 For to give doom them is full lath, 5 
 Therewith to make Sir Penny wrath ; 
 
 Full dear with them is he. 
 
 There strife was Penny makes peace, 
 Of all angers he may release, 
 
 In land where he will lend ; 
 Of foes may he make friendes sad, 
 Of counsel there them never be rod* 
 
 That may have him to friend. 
 
 That sire is set on high dess, 
 And served with many rich mess 
 At the high board : 
 
 1 Borrowing and pledging. * Judgd. 
 
 ' Loth. * Void. 
 
 12
 
 [ 272 3 
 
 The more he is to men plenty, 
 
 The more yernid * alway is he, 
 
 And holden dear in hoard. 
 
 He makes many be forsworn, 
 And some life and soul forlorn, 
 
 Him to get and win : 
 Other good will they none have 
 But that little round knave 
 
 Their bales * for to blin. 3 
 
 On him wholly their heart is set, 
 Him for to love will they not let 
 
 Neither for good ne ill ; 
 All that he will in earth have done, 
 Ilka man grants it full soon 
 
 Right at his own will : 
 He may both lend and give, 
 He may ger both slay and live, 
 
 Both by frith and fell. 
 
 Penny is a good fellaw, 
 Men welcomes him in deed and sau t s 
 Come he never so oft ; 
 
 1 Desired. a Misfortunes. 
 
 3 End, terminate. 4 By water and land. 
 
 5 Words.
 
 [ 273 ] 
 
 He is not welcom'd as a guest, 
 But evermore serv'd with the best, 
 And made at sit full soft. 
 
 Whoso is sted in any need, 
 With Sir Penny may they speed, 
 
 Howsoever they betide : 
 He that Sir Penny is withal, 
 Shall have his will in steed and stall, 
 
 When other are set beside. 
 
 Sir Penny gers in rich weed 
 Full many go, and ride on steed, 
 
 In this world wide ; 
 In ilka gamin and ilka play 
 The mastery is given aye 
 
 To Penny for his pride. 
 
 Sir Penny over all gets the gre, ' 
 Both in burgh and in city, 
 
 In castle and in tower : 
 Withouten either spear or shield, 
 Is he the best in frith or field, 
 
 And stalworthest * in stour. 3 
 
 1 Degree, step: Boldest, strongest, 
 
 3 Fight, battle. 
 VOL. I. S
 
 r* ] 
 
 In ilka place the sooth is seen, 
 Sir Penny is over albidene * 
 
 Master most in mood ; 
 And all is as he will command, 
 Against his steven '' dare no man stand, 
 
 Neither by land ne flood. 
 
 Sir Penny may full mickle avail, 
 To them that has need of counsail, 
 
 As seen is in atsise : 3 
 He lenkeths 4 life, and saves from dead* s 
 But love it not overwell, 1 rede, 
 
 For sin of covetise ! 
 
 If thou have hap tresdur to win, 
 Delight thee not too mickle therein, 
 
 Ne nything 6 thereof be : 
 But spend it as well as thou can, 
 So that thou love both God and man 
 
 In perfect charity. 
 
 God grant us grace, with heart and will, 
 The goods that he has given us til 
 Well and wisely to spend ; 
 
 * Altogether. a Voice. 
 
 3 In courts of judicature. * Lengthens, 
 
 * Death. 6 Careless.
 
 [ 275 } 
 
 And so our lives here for to lead, 
 That we may have his bliss to meed, 
 Ever, without end. Amen* 
 
 The praise of Sir Penny appears to have been a 
 favourite subject with the northern minstrels ; for 
 a poem with the same title is to be found in Lord 
 Hailes's Collection, p. 153 ; and another in AJr 
 Ritson's Ancient Songs, p. 76.
 
 C 276 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Reign of Henry V, Life of Lydgate Cha- 
 racter of his Writings Specimens of his 
 Troy Book. 
 
 AMONG the immediate successors of Chaucer, in 
 England, the celebrated JOHN LYDGATE is con- 
 fessedly the most tolerable. The time of his birth 
 is not exactly known ; but the documents extract- 
 ed by Mr Warton from a register of the church of 
 Bury in the Cotton library will ascertain it with 
 sufficient precision. It appears that he was ordain- 
 ed a sub-deacon in 1389; a deacon in 1393 ; and 
 a priest in 1397 : so that if we suppose him to have 
 received the first ordination at fourteen years of 
 age, he cannot have been born latter than 1375 : 
 that is to say, twenty -five years before the death of 
 Chaucer. This date naturally assigns him to the 
 reign of Henry V., at whose command he under- 
 took his metrical history of the siege of Troy, the 
 best and most popular of his almost innumerable 
 productions. 
 
 Few writers have been more admired by their 
 contemporaries ; yet none have been treated with
 
 C 27? 3 
 
 more severity by modern critics. The learned 
 editor of the Reliques of Ancient Poetry men- 
 tions him with compassionate contempt : Mr 
 Ritson ridicules his " cart-loads" of poetical rub- 
 bish : * and Mr Pinkerton considers him as posi- 
 tively stupid. Mr Warton alone has thought it 
 worth while to study him with much attention, 
 or to attempt a general discussion of his literary 
 character; and his opinion is well worth tran- 
 scribing. 
 
 " He was a monk of the Benedictine abbey of 
 " Bury in Suffolk After a short education at 
 " Oxford, he travelled into France and Italy ; and 
 " returned a complete master of the language and 
 
 * Habits of closer intimacy do not appear to have alter- 
 ed Mr Ritson's opinion or softened his language with re- 
 spect to the unfortunate L)an John of Bury. 
 
 Having in a late publication taken the pains to search 
 out and enumerate Lydgale's works, genuine or supposititi- 
 ous, to the almost incredible number of 251, our critic styles 
 him "a most prolix and voluminous poetaster," a" prosaick, 
 " and drivelling monk," and proscribes, " his stupid and 
 " fatiguing productions, which by no means deserve the 
 " name of poetry," " his elaborate drawlings, in which there 
 " are scarcely three lines together of pure and acuratc 
 " metre," " and their stil more stupid and disgusting author, 
 " who disgraces the name and patronage of his master 
 " Chaucer," as " neither worth collecting, nor even wor- 
 " Iliy of preservation." Bibliog. Poet, p. 00, &c.
 
 [ 278 ] 
 
 " the literature of both countries. He chiefly 
 " studied the Italian and French poets, particular- 
 " ly Dante, Boccacio, and Alain Chartier ; and 
 " became so distinguished a proficient in polite 
 " learning, thathe opened a school in his monastery, 
 " for teaching the sons of the nobility the arts of 
 " versification and the elegancies of composition. 
 " Yet, although philology was the object, he was 
 *' not unfamiliar with the fashionable philosophy : 
 " he was not only a poet and a rhetorician, but a 
 " geometrician, an astronomer, a theologist, and a 
 " disputant. On the whole, I am of opinion, that 
 " Lydgate made considerable additions to those 
 " amplifications of our language, in which Chau- 
 " cer, Gower, and Occleve, led the way : and 
 " that he is the first of our writers whose style is 
 " clothed with that perspicuity, in which the 
 " English phraseology appears at this day to an 
 " English reader. 
 
 " To enumerate Lydgate's pieces would be to 
 " write the catalogue of a little library. No poet 
 " seems to have possessed a greater versatility of 
 " talents. He moves with equal ease in every 
 " mode of composition. ' His hymns and his bal- 
 " lads have the same degree of merit : and whether 
 " his subject be the life of a hermit or a hero, of 
 " Saint Austin or Guy Earl of Warwick, ludicrous
 
 C 279 3 
 
 u or legendary, religious or romantic, a history 
 " or an allegory, he writes with facility. His 
 " transitions were rapid from works of the most 
 " serious and laborious kind to sallies of levity 
 " and pieces of popular entertainment. His muse 
 44 was of universal access ; and he was not only 
 ** the poet of his monastery, but of the world in 
 " general. If a disguising was intended by the 
 " company of goldsmiths, a mask before his raajes- 
 " ty at Eltham, a may-game for the sheriffs and 
 " aldermen of London, a mumming before the 
 " lord-mayor, a procession of pageants from the 
 " creation for the festival of Corpus Christi, or a 
 " carol for the coronation, Lydgate was consulted, 
 " and gave the poetry. 
 
 " His manner is naturally verbose and diffuse. 
 " This circumstance contributed in no small de- 
 " gree to give a clearness and a fluency to his 
 " phraseology. For the same reason he is often 
 " tedious and languid. His chief excellence is in 
 " description, especially where the subject admits 
 " a flowery diction. He is seldom pathetic, or 
 " animated." 
 
 Lydgate's most esteemed works are, his Story 
 of Thebes, his Fall of Princes, and his History, 
 Siege, and Destruction of Troy. 
 
 The Story of Thebes, which Speght has printed 
 in his edition of Chaucer, and which was intended
 
 C 280 ] 
 
 as a continuation of the Canterbury Tales; con- 
 tains some poetical passages, which Mr Warton 
 has extracted. But Lydgate's style, though natural, 
 and sometimes rich, does not possess that strength 
 and conciseness which is observable in the works 
 of his master. It is dangerous for a mere versifier 
 to attempt the completion of a plan which has 
 been begun by a poet. Lydgate's poem is not 
 Jong ; but it is possible to be tedious in a very 
 small compass. 
 
 The Fall of Princes, or " Boke of John Bochas," 
 (first printed in 1494 by Pinson, and several times 
 since,) is a translation from Boccacio, or rather 
 from a French paraphrase of his work " De Casi- 
 bus Virorum et Feminarum illustrium," written 
 by Laurent de Premierfait, which was originally 
 printed at Bruges in 1476, and at Lyons in 1483. 
 Lydgate's poem was probably useful, when first 
 written, as a book of reference, to those who could 
 not consult the original ; but the day of its popu- 
 larity is past. 
 
 The Troy Book, however, containing (as Marshe's 
 title-page assures us) "the onely trewe and syncere 
 " Chronicle of the warres betwixt the Grecians and 
 " the Troyans/'deservesmore consideration. Being 
 a translation from Colonna's prose history, which 
 contained the substance of Dares Phrygius and 
 Dictys Cretensis, it comprises all the materials of
 
 [ 281 ] 
 
 one class of romantic history, and is valuable as 
 a specimen of the learning, as well as of the cre- 
 dulity, of our ancestors. The story is so much 
 connected with our early studies ; that story is so 
 comically adapted to the usages and manners of 
 chivalry ; its author is so minute and circumstan- 
 tial in describing events which never happened ; is 
 so precise in his dates and numbers ; so full of 
 event and bustle ; and so prodigal of ornament ; 
 that if this poem be no longer resorted to by 
 common readers as a source of amusement, it is, 
 perhaps, only because two close columns of black 
 letter, presenting ninety lines in a page, are too 
 formidable to be encountered by any eyes but 
 those of a veteran in antiquarian researches. 
 
 The most esteemed edition of this work is that 
 of 1555, printed by Thomas Marshe, under the 
 care of one Robert Braham, who corrected it from 
 many errors of the original edition given by Pin- 
 son in 1513. It has been already observed, that 
 Lydgate undertook this poem at the request of 
 Henry V. when Prinde of Wales : it was begun in 
 14-12, and finished in 1420. The first of these 
 dates is rather oddly expressed in the following 
 lines : 
 
 And of the time to maken mention 
 When I began on this translation,
 
 282 j 
 
 It was the yeare, soothly for to sayn, 
 Fourteen complete tho of his father's reign'. 
 The time of yeare, shortly to conclude, 
 When twenty 'grees was Phebus' altitude. 
 The hour, when he hath made his steedes draw 
 His rosen chariot low under the wawe 
 To bathe his beames, &c. 
 
 (Prologue.) 
 
 Here " the year fourteen complete" must mean 
 the fourteenth^ i. e. 1412 ; for Henry IV., who be- 
 gan his reign in September 1399, and died in 
 March 14 13, did not reign fourteen complete 
 years. The remainder of the description, though 
 now rather obscure, was certainly intended to ex- 
 press very exactly the moment at which Lydgate 
 began his poem ; and was probably intelligible to 
 contemporary readers. Judicial astrology was then 
 in vogue ; and he was anxious to prove that he 
 had commenced his operation at a lucky moment. 
 His work, perhaps, may not give us reason to 
 believe in the poetical influence of the stars; but 
 we must at least approve his modesty, in trusting 
 the perfection of his verses to good fortune rather 
 than to genius. 
 
 Every one knows that Laomedon, King of Troy, 
 had the rashness to offend Jason and Hercules, 
 who stopped in his country on their way to Colchis ;
 
 C 283 ] 
 
 and that Hercules revenged this " uncourtesy" by 
 destroying the city of Troy. Such an episode in 
 the adventures of the Argonauts naturally connects 
 the second Trojan war with their expedition, which 
 is therefore related by Lydgate as minutely as if he 
 had been their ship-mate, and had kept a journal 
 of the voyage. The following lines describe part 
 of the ceremonial used by King Oetes, after Ja- 
 son's first audience : 
 
 The time approacheth, and gan to nigh fast. 
 That officers full busily the:n cat 
 To m ke ready, with all their busy cure, 
 And in the halle border * for to cure. * 
 For by the dial the hour they gan to mark 
 That Phoebus southward whirled up his ark, 
 So high alofte that it drew to none ; 
 That it was time for the king to gone 
 Unto his meat, and enter into hall. 
 And then Oetes, with his lordes all, 
 And with his knights about him every one, 
 With Hercules, and also with Jason, 
 Is set to meate in his royal see ; 
 And every lorde like to his degree. 
 But first of all, this worthy man Jason 
 Assigned was by the kinge anon 
 
 I * To arrange and drest tho tnble*.
 
 [ 284. 3 
 
 For to sitte at his owne board : 
 And Hercules, that was so great a lord, 
 Was sette also faste by his side. 
 And the marshall no longer list abide, 
 To assign estates where they shoulde be ; 
 Like as they were of high or low degree. 
 And after that, on scaffold high aloft, 
 The noise gan loude, and nothinge soft, 
 Of trumpeters, and eke of clarioners : 
 And therewithal, the noble officers 
 Full thriftely served have the hall. 
 ****** 
 
 I want cunning by order to describe 
 Of every course the diversities, 
 The strange selves, l and the subtleties, * 
 That were that day served in that place, &c. 
 (Cap. V. ed. Marsh, sign. C. 4.) 
 
 The following picture of Medea's growing pas- 
 sion is net inelegant : 
 
 1 Mr Tyrwhitt explains seiees, dishes ; but his quotation 
 from Gower rather proves it to mean broths, or soups, in 
 which sense the word often occurs in ancient cookery- 
 receipts. Sax. Seatee, succus, liquor. (Lye's Diet.) sere. Fr. 
 The Scots still use the word sotmis for a sort of oatmeal 
 broth, or flummery. 
 
 * These were ornaments placed on the table, and gome- 
 times illustrated with mottos.
 
 C 285 ] 
 
 For as he sat at meat tho in that tide, 
 Her father next, and Jason by her side, 
 All suddenly her fresh and rosen hue 
 Full ofte-time gan changen and renew, 
 An hundred sithes 1 in a little space. 
 For now, the bloode from her goodly face 
 Unto her heart unwarely gan avale : * 
 And therewithal she waxeth dead and pale. 
 And eft 3 anon (who thereto gan take heed) 
 Her hue returneth into goodly red : 
 But still among, t' embellish her colour, 
 The rose was meynt 4 aye with the lily flower ; 
 And though the rose some dele gan to pace, 
 Yet still the lily bideth in his place, 
 Till nature made them eft again to meet. 
 ******** 
 
 For now she brent, and now she gan to cold. 
 And aye the more that she gan behold 
 This Jason young, the more she gan desire 
 To look on him ; so was she set a-fire 
 With his beaute, and his semelyness, 
 And every tiling she inly gan impress. 
 What that she sawe, both in mind and thought 
 She dl imprinteth, and forgetteth nought. 
 
 ' Times. * Descend. Ff. 
 
 3 Again. Sax. * Mixed. 
 
 3
 
 C 286 ] 
 
 For she considereth every circumstance, 
 Both of his port and [of] his governance ; 
 His sunnish hair, crisped like gold wire, 
 His knightly look, and his manly cheer. 
 
 (Chap. v. sign. D. i.) 
 
 The first book concludes with the destruction of 
 Troy by Hercules : the second relates the building 
 of the new city by Priam, the mission of AntenoV 
 into Greece, the predatory expedition of Paris, 
 &c. and ends with the landing of the Greeks before 
 Troy : the third book contains the whole history of 
 the siege till the death of Hector : the fourth relates 
 the election of Palamedes as commander of the 
 Greeks, and the deposition of Agamemnon, as also 
 the remainder of the siege, the story of the " horse 
 of brass," and the destruction of the city : the 
 fifth and last book describes the miseries endured 
 by the Greeks on their passage home, and gives 
 the genealogy of " Pirrhus, how his father hight 
 " Peleus," &c. In this book the poet implores the 
 favour of his readers, assuring them that 
 
 though so be that they not ne read 
 In all this book no rethorikes newe, 
 Yet this I hope, THAT THEY SHALL FIND ALL 
 TRUE. (Cap. xxxviii. sign. Ee. ii.)
 
 [ 287 ] 
 
 One of the most amusing passages in this poem 
 is contained in the 17th chapter, and relates to a 
 well-known event in the life of Venus. Lydgate 
 thus expresses his indignation against Vulcan : 
 
 The smotry * smith, this swarte Vulcanus, 
 That whilom in hearte was so jealous 
 Toward Venus, that was his wedded wife, 
 Whereof there rose a deadly mortal strife, 
 When he with Mars gan her first espy 
 Of high malice, and cruel false envy, 
 Through the shining of Phoebus' beames bright, 
 Lying a-bed with Mars her owne knight. 
 For which in heart he brent as any glede* 
 Making the slander all abroad to sprede, 
 And gan thereon falsely for to muse. 
 
 And God forbid that any man accuse 
 For so LITTLE any woman ever ! 
 Where love is set, hard is to dissever ! 
 For though they do such thing of gentleness, 
 Pass over lightly, and bear none heaviness, 
 Lest that thou be to women odious ! 
 And yet this smith, this false Vulcanus, 
 Albe that he had them thus espied, 
 
 1 Smoky, or -mum. 
 * A burning coal. Sax.
 
 C 288 J 
 
 Among Paynims yet was he deified ! 
 And, for that he so FALSELY THEM AWOKE, 
 I have him set last of all my boke, 
 Among the goddes of false mawmentry. 1 &c. 
 
 (Sign.L.i.) 
 
 Upon this occasion, the morals of our poetical 
 monk are so very pliant, that it is difficult to sup- 
 pose him quite free from personal motives which 
 might have influenced his doctrine. Perhaps he 
 had been incommoded by some intrusive husband 
 at a moment when he felt tired of celibacy, and 
 wished to indulge in a temporary relaxation from 
 the severity of monastic discipline. z 
 
 The picture of Venus is thus curiously de- 
 scribed : 
 
 And she stant naked in a wavy sea, 
 Environ her with goddesses three, 
 
 1 Mahometry, i. e. idolatry. It may be proper to ob- 
 serve, that no part of this passage is to be found in Co- 
 lonna's original. In general, indeed, Lydgatc's is by no 
 means a translation, but a very loose paraphrase. 
 
 z Suspecting that Lydgate nad borrowed this singular 
 passage from some French paraphrase of Colonn >'.- work, 
 I examined the anonymous translation in the Museum (Bibl. 
 Reg. 16. F. ix.), but could not find any traces of such a de- 
 viation from the original.
 
 [ 289 ] 
 
 That be assign'd with busy attendance 
 To wait on her and do her observance. 
 And floures freshe, blue, red, and white, 
 Be her about, the more for to delight. 
 And on her heade she hath a chaplet 
 Of roses red full pleasantly y-set 
 
 AND FROM THE HEADE DOWN UNTO HER FOOT 
 WlTH SUNDRY GUMS AND OINTEMENTES SOOTE 
 SHE IS ENOINTE, SWEETER FOR TO SMELL. 
 
 And all alofte, as these poets tell, 
 
 Be doves white, fleeing, and eke sparrows, 
 
 And her beside Cupyde with his arrows. 
 
 (Cap. xvii. Ibid.) 
 
 The following particulars in the description of 
 Fortune, at the beginning of the second book, are 
 
 rather singular : 
 
 t 
 And thus this lady, wilful and reckless, 
 
 As she that is froward and perverse, 
 
 HATH IN HER CELLAR DRINKES FULL DIVERSE. 
 
 For she to some, of fraud and of/a#fls, 
 
 Ministreth piment, bartme, and ypocras i 
 
 And suddenly, when the soote is past, 
 
 She of custome can give him a cast, 
 
 For to conclude falsely in the fine, 
 
 Of bitter eyscll* and of eager wine ; 
 
 1 Aitil, old Fr. vinegar ("Vide Treiorde Borel.) 
 VOL. I. T
 
 [ 290 ] 
 
 And corrosives that fret and pierce deep ; 
 And narcotics that cause men to sleep. 
 
 (Cap. 10. sign. F. ii.) 
 
 These, it is true, are not veiy poetical passages, 
 nor are we to expect from Lydgate much liveli- 
 ness of fancy or brilliancy of expression. His me- 
 rit, such as it is, cannot easily be exemplified in 
 short extracts; and is rather likely to find fa- 
 vour in the eyes of the antiquarian than of the 
 poet. By readers of the former description, the 
 following passages, from the description of Troy, 
 may perhaps be perused with patience : 
 
 And, as I read, the walles were on height 
 Two hundred cubits ; all of marble grey, 
 Magecolled ' without, for sautes, * and assay : 
 And it to make more pleasant of delight, 
 Among the marble was albaster white^ 
 Meynt in the walls 
 
 **##** 
 
 1 The machecoulis were the openings under the parapets 
 of a gate, or the salient galleries of a tower, to defend the 
 foot of the wall by pouring down hot water, or pitch, w 
 sometimes dropping stones on the heads of the besiegers* 
 
 * Assaults.
 
 [ 291 ] 
 
 A crown of gold with riche stones y-fret, 
 That shone full bright again the sunne shene ; 
 And every tower bretexed * was so clean 
 Of chose stone that were not far asunder, 
 That to beholde it was very wonder. 
 Thereto his city, compass'd environ, 
 
 Had gates six to enter into town 
 
 ****** 
 
 With square toures set on every side ; 
 
 At whose corners, of very pomp and pride, 
 
 The workmen have, with fell and stern visages, 
 
 Of rich entayle* up-raised great images, 
 
 Wrought out of stone, and never like to fail, 
 
 Full curiously enarmed for batayle. 
 
 And through the wall, their foemen for to let, 
 
 At every toure were great gunnes set, 
 
 For assautes and sudden aventures. 
 
 And on each turrets were raised up figures 
 
 Of savage beasts, as bears, and of lions, 
 
 Of tygers, boars, of serpents, and dragons, 
 
 And hartes eke with their broade horns ; 
 
 Of elephantes, and large unicorns, 
 
 Bugles, bulles, and many great griffon, 
 
 1 Probably embattled, from the French word bretter, to 
 indent. Cotgrave. Bretucher, fortifier. Diet. Roman. 
 a Sculpture. FT.
 
 C 292 ] 
 
 Forged of brass, of copper, and laton y * 
 That cruelly by signes of their faces 
 Upon their foen made fell menaces. 
 Barbicans, and also bulwarks huge, 
 Afore the towne made for high refuge, 
 When neede should be, early and eke and late ; 
 And portekoles * strong at every gate, 
 That of assautes they need take no charge. 
 And the lockes thicke, broade, and large, 
 Of all the gates well wrought of shining brass. 
 And eke within the mighty shutting was 
 Of iron barres, stronge, square, and round, 
 And great barres pitched in the ground, 
 With huge chaines forged for defence, 
 That ne would breake for no violence, 
 That harde it was through them for to win. 
 
 And every house that builded was within, 
 Every palace, and every mansion, 
 
 Of marble were throughout all the town. 
 
 * . * * * * * 
 
 And if I should rehearsen by and by 
 The corve 3 knots, by craft of masonry, 
 
 1 Lattcn denotes iron plates tinned over. Owen's Diet, of 
 Arts and Sciences. 
 * Portcullices. 3 Carved.
 
 [ 293 ] 
 
 The fresh enlowing * with verges* right as lines, 
 
 And the housing 3 full of backewines,* 
 
 The rich coining, 5 the lusty tablcments, 
 
 Vinettes running in casements, 
 
 Though the termes in English woulden rhyme, 
 
 To shew them all I have as now no time. 
 
 ****** 
 
 And through the town, with crafty purveyance, 
 
 By great avise 6 and discreet ordinance, 
 
 By compass cast, and squared out by squyersj 
 
 Of polish'd marble, upon strong pillers, 
 
 Devised were, longe, large, and wide, 
 
 Of every streete in the fronter side, 
 
 Fresk alures, with lusty high pinacles, 
 
 And mounstring 8 outward costly tabernacles : 
 
 Vaulted above like to reclinatories, 
 
 That called were deambulatories, 
 
 [For] men to walk together, twain and twain, 
 
 To keep them dry when it happed to rain. 
 
 1 Arching ? 
 
 * 3 4 $ I do not quite understand any of these term?. 
 
 6 Avis, F. ; counsel. 
 
 7 Esguierre, now spelt cqne-rt, the carpenter's tquart. 
 
 * Exhibiting; monitrant. Old Fr. CoJonna's original only 
 sayt : " In ipsarum vero lateribus platcarum innumerabiles 
 11 column.-!' marmoreis arcubus circumvolutit erectae, et su- 
 " per ipsorum aiditiciis clevatae."
 
 [ 294 ] 
 
 And every house covered was with lead, 
 And many gargoyle, T and many hideous head, 
 With spouts thorough, and pipes, as they ought, 
 From the stone-worke to the kennel raught, * 
 Voiding filthes low into the ground 
 Thorough grates made of iron pierced round. 
 The streets paved, both in length and brede t 3 
 In chequer wise, with stones white and reu.de. 4 
 (Cap. XI. sign. F. v. &c.) 
 
 After a great deal .more of minute description, 
 Lydgate tells us, that Priam built a sort of circus 
 
 5 To give his men in knighthood exercise, 
 Everyche to put other at assay 
 Injustes, listes, and also in tourney 
 
 ( Sign. F. vi.) 
 As also that 
 
 there was found by clerkes full prudent 
 
 6 Of the CHESS the play most glorious, 
 
 1 Gargotiille, Fr. is the end of a spout ; tbej> are usually 
 terminated with heads of animals. 
 
 * Keached. 
 3 Breadth. 
 
 * Red. This pavement is not described in the original. 
 
 5 Mot in the original. 
 
 6 Ibi priino adinventa fucrunt scaccorum solatia curiosa ;
 
 [ 295 j 
 
 Which is so subtle and so marvellous, * 
 And that at the same time 
 
 Also in Troy by great avisement 
 
 The play was founde first of dice, and tables, 
 
 And castinge the chances deceivables. 
 
 (Ibid.) 
 
 He then, after defining tragedy and comedy, de- 
 scribes the theatre, in which a poet delivers from 
 a pulpit his tragedies : 
 
 And while that he in the pulpit stood, 
 With deadly face all devoid of blood, 
 
 ****** 
 
 
 
 Amid the theatre shrouded in a tent, 
 
 There came out men, ghastful of their cheers, 
 
 Dffigured their faces icith viseres, 
 
 1 Playing by signes in the people's sight 
 
 And proceeds to tell us 
 
 ibi ludi Mibito irascibiles alearum ; hie repentina damna et 
 lucra moinc ntanca tinillomm. 
 
 * Lydgate inform- us that this game was " first found in 
 " this city during the siege like as saith Guydo," though he 
 thinks it necessary to add, " Jacobus de Vitriaco is contra- 
 ry in his opinion,'* affirming it to be of Chaldean original. 
 
 1 Not in the original.
 
 [ 296 ] 
 
 How Priamus was passing diligent 
 Right desirous and inwardly fervent, 
 If so he might among his workes all 
 Do build a palace, and a riche hall, 
 Which should be his chose chief dungeon, * 
 His royal see, and sovereign mansion. 
 And when he gan to his worke approach, 
 He made it builde high upon a roche, 
 It for to assure in its foundation, 
 And called it the noble Ilion. 
 ****** 
 
 And high aiuids this noble Ilion, 
 So rich and passing of foundation, 
 Which clerkes yet in their bookes praise, 
 King Priam made a hall for to raise : 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 And, of this hall farther to define, 
 With stones square by level and by line 
 It paved was, with full great diligence 
 Of masonry, and passing excellence; 
 And all above raised was a see 
 Full curiously of stones and perre, * 
 That called was, as chief and principal, 
 Of the reigne 3 the seat most royal. 
 Tofore which was set by great delight 
 
 * Pro siiae habitations hospitio. 
 
 a Pierreries, jewels. Fr. 3 Kingdom.
 
 [ 297 ] 
 
 A board l of ebon and of ivory white, 
 So egally y-joined and so clean 
 That in the work there was ryft * y-seen. 
 And sessyons 3 were made on every side 
 Only the estates by order to divide. 
 Eke, in the hall, as it was convenable, 
 On cache partye was a dormant 4 table 
 Of ivory eke, and of this ebon tree. 
 
 (Sign. F. vi. &c.) 
 
 The bounds of the present sketch will not 
 permit a farther accumulation of extracts from 
 this obsolete poem ; in which, however, the inqui- 
 sitive reader will find much curious information, 
 though he will not discover such poetical beauties 
 as can justify its original popularity. That popu- 
 larity was, indeed, excessive and unbounded ; and 
 it continued without much diminution during, at 
 least, two centuries. To this the praises of suc- 
 
 1 Table. 2 Fissure. 3 Seats. 
 
 4 Fixed ready. Tyrwhitt. In Chaucer's prologue, the 
 Frankelein's table 
 
 . ' dormant in Ail hall alw'ty, 
 
 " Stood ready covered all the longe day." 
 Perhaps the common tables resembled those still in u.-c in 
 France ( which consist of a few boards nailed together, and 
 placed (when wanted for use) on folding trestles i so that 
 the different parts may be separately removed.
 
 [ 298 ] 
 
 needing writers bear ample testimony ; but it is 
 confirmed by a direct and most singular evidence. 
 An anonymous writer has taken the pains to 
 modernize the entire poem, consisting of about 
 28000 verses, to change the ancient context and 
 almost every rhyme, and to throw the whole into 
 six-line stanzas ; and yet, so little was he solicitous 
 to raise his own reputation at the expense of the 
 original author, that, though he has altered the title 
 and preface of the work, he has still ascribed it to 
 Lydgate. This strange instance of perverted talents 
 and industry was published under the title of " The 
 " Life and Death of Hector," by Thomas Purfoot, 
 1614, and is well known to the booksellers. 
 
 The date of Lydgate's death is doubtful ; at least 
 it is stated differently by different authors. In his 
 Philomela he mentions the decease of an Earl of 
 Warwick, who died in 1446, so that he must have 
 survived that year. Some authorities place his 
 death in 1461, and this date is not improbable.
 
 299 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Reign of Henry V. continued. James I. King 
 of Scotland. Extract from the King's 
 Quair. 
 
 W E are probably indebted to an accident which 
 happened in the reign of Henry IV. for the most 
 elegant poem that was produced during the early 
 part of the fifteenth century : it is called the 
 King's Quair, * and was written by JAMES I. 
 KING of SCOTLAND. 
 
 This prince was the second son of Robert III., 
 and was born in 1305. His elder brother, David, 
 having disgraced himself by the general profligacy 
 of his conduct, was confined, by his father's order, 
 in the palace of Falkland, where he died of a dysen- 
 tery, in 14-01 ; or, as was more generally believed, 
 was starved to death, by order of his uncle the 
 Duke of Albany, to whom Robert had entrusted 
 the administration of the kingdom. After the 
 death of this prince, the king determined to send 
 his surviving son, James, to be educated at the 
 ourt of his ally, Charles VI. King of France; and 
 Cahier, Fr. ; whrncc quire.
 
 [ 300 ] 
 
 James embarked for that country, with his gover- 
 nor the Earl of Orkney, and a numerous train of 
 attendants : but the ship was stopped, on the 12th 
 of April, 14-05, off Flamborough-Head, by an 
 English squadron, and the passengers were, by 
 order of Henry IV., sent as prisoners to London. 
 
 This happened about a week before the termi- 
 nation of a truce ; and though such infractions of 
 treaties were very common during the barbarous 
 warfare which was at that time carried on between 
 England and Scotland, the capture and subsequent 
 detention of James were attributed to the intrigues 
 of the Duke of Albany, who, in consequence of 
 the death of King Robert, in the following year 
 was nominated regent of Scotland ; and who, by 
 means of the king's long detention in England, not 
 only preserved that dignity to the end of his life, 
 but quietly transmitted it to his son Murdoch, 
 earl of Fife. 
 
 That Henry had no right to consider as a pri- 
 soner the sovereign of an independent nation, whom 
 an act of insolent violence had placed within his 
 power, is perfectly evident ; but the accident was 
 perhaps ultimately advantageous to the prince him- 
 self, as well as to the nation which he was born to 
 govern. He was at this time only ten years of 
 age ; and Henry, though he treated him with ri- 
 12
 
 C 301 ] 
 
 gour, and even kept him confined for two years 
 in the Tower, took the greatest care of his edu- 
 cation, and appointed as his governor Sir John 
 Pelham, a man of worth and learning, under whose 
 tuition he made so rapid a progress, that he soon 
 became a prodigy of talents and accomplishments. 
 His character, as drawn by the historians of that 
 age, is such as we seldom see realized. We are 
 assured that he became a proficient in ever}' branch 
 of polite literature ; in grammar, oratory, Latin, 
 and English poetry, music, jurisprudence, and the 
 philosophy of the times ; and that his dexterity in 
 tilts and tournaments, in wrestling, in archery, and 
 in the sports of the field, was perfectly unrivalled. 
 It might be objected, that those who possess 
 only a part of these accomplishments are apt to 
 gain credit for all the rest ; that the owner of a 
 crown is seldom judged with severity ; that unme- 
 rited misfortune is sure to excite sympathy and 
 commiseration ; and that, as James united all these 
 claims to popular favour, some parts of the pre- 
 ceding description are likely to have been some- 
 what exaggerated. But the excellent laws which 
 he enacted after his return to Scotland, and the 
 happiness which his people enjoyed in consequence 
 of his policy, his firmness, and his justice, bear the 
 most unequivocal testimony to the truth of one
 
 [ 302 ] 
 
 part of the picture ; and his poetical remains are 
 sufficient to evince that his literary talents were 
 not over-rated by his contemporaries. 
 
 During fifteen years of his captivity, he seemed 
 forgotten, or at least neglected, by his subjects. 
 The admiration of strangers and the consciousness 
 of his own talents only rendered his situation more 
 irksome ; and he had begun to abandon himself to 
 despair, when he was fortunately consoled for his 
 seclusion at Windsor Castle by a passion of which 
 sovereigns, in quiet possession of a throne, have 
 seldom the good fortune to feel the influence. The 
 object of his adoration was the lady Jane Beaufort 
 (daughter of John Beaufort, duke of Somerset, and 
 grand-daughter of John of Guant), whom he after- 
 wards married, and in whose commendation he 
 composed his principal poetical work, called the 
 King's Quair. ?? . 
 
 This poem, consisting of 197 stanzas, divided 
 by its editor into six cantos, has much allegorical 
 machinery, which was apparently suggested by the 
 study of Boethius, the favourite author of the 
 time ; but it also contains various particulars of 
 his life ; it is full pf simplicity and feeling, and is 
 not inferior in .poetical merit to any similar pro- 
 duction of Chaucer. The following extract is taken 
 from the second canto, in which no allegorical
 
 [ 303 ] 
 
 painting is introduced, and which contains little 
 more than an account of his own adventures. 
 
 x. 
 
 The longe dayes and the nightis eke 
 I would bewail my fortune in this wise ; 
 
 For which again distress comfort to seek, 
 My custom was on mornis for to rise 
 Early as day : O happy excercise ! 
 
 By thee come I to joy out of torment : 
 
 But now to purpose of my first intent, 
 
 xr. 
 
 Bewailing in my chamber thus alone, 
 Despaired of all joy and remedy, 
 
 For-tired of my thought, and woe-begone, 
 And to the window gan I walk in hye, 
 To see the world and folk that went forby ; 
 
 As, for the time (though I of mirthis food 
 
 Might have no more), to look it did me good. 
 
 xn. 
 
 Now was there made, fast by the Touris wall, 
 A garden fair ; ' and in the corners set 
 
 1 The gardens of this period seem to have been very 
 smalt. In Chaucer's Troiliu and Cresseide we (mil the 
 same place indifferently called agan/tn and a yard; and thk
 
 An herbere I green ; with wandis long and small 
 Railed about, and so with treeis set 
 Was all the place, and hawthorn hedges knet 
 That life * was none [a] walking there forby, 
 That might within scarce any wight espy. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 And on the smalle grene twistis sat 
 The little sweete nightingale, and sung 
 
 So loud and clear the hymnis consecrate 
 Of lovis use, now soft, now loud among, 
 That all the gardens and the wallis rung 
 
 Right of their song ; and on the couple next 3 
 
 Of their sweet harmony : and lo the text ! 
 
 at Windsor, fast by the Touris wall, was probably either in 
 the yard or on the terrace. 
 
 ' Adown the stair anon right tJio she went 
 
 ' Into her garden," &c. 
 
 ' This yard was large, and railed all the aleyes, 
 
 ' And shadowed well with blossomy boughs green; 
 
 ' And benched new, and sanded all the ways, 
 
 ' In which she walketh," &c. 
 
 [Troil. and Cr. B. II. st. 110. fol. 152, ed. 1602.] 
 1 Probably an arbour, though the word is also very fre- 
 quently used for an herbary, or garden of simples. 
 * Living person. 
 
 3 Mr Tytler imagines that this relates to the pairing of 
 the birds ; but the word couple seems here to be used as a 
 musical term.
 
 [ 305 ] 
 
 xv. 
 
 " Worshippe ye that lovere bene this May, 
 " For of your bliss the calends are begun ; 
 
 " And sing with us, * Away ! winter away ! 
 " Come summer, come ! the sweetseason and sun ! 
 " Awake, for shame! that have your heavens won! 1 
 
 " And amorously lift up your headis all ; 
 
 " Thank Love, that list you to his mercy call !' " 
 
 XVI. 
 
 When they this song had sung a little throw * 
 They stent J awhile, and, therewith unafraid 
 
 As I beheld, and cast mine eyen n-lowe, 
 
 From bough to bough \heyhipped* and they play'd, 
 And freshly, in their birdis kind, array'd 
 
 Their feathers new, and fret * them in the sun, 
 
 And thanked Love that had their maids 6 won. 
 
 These and a few more stanzas are preparatory 
 to the appearance of his mistress, his first sight of 
 whom is thus described : 
 
 XXI. 
 
 And therewith cast I down mine eye again, 
 Whereas I saw, walking under the Tower 
 
 1 Mr Tytler explaim this as follows: " Yr that have 
 '' attained your highest bliss, by winning your mates. See 
 " the last line of Hie next stanza." * A little time. 
 
 3 Stopped. * Hopped. ' 5 Pecked. 6 Mates. 
 VOL. I. U
 
 [ 306 ] 
 
 Full secretly, new comyn her to pleyne? 
 The fairest, or the freshest younge flower 
 That ever I saw, methought, before that hour 
 For which sudden abate anon astert * 
 The blood of all my body to my heart. 
 
 And though I stood abased tho a lyte, 3 
 No wonder was ; for why ? my wittis all 
 
 Were so o'ercome with pleasance and delight, 
 Only through letting of mine eyen fall, 
 That suddenly my heart become her thrall 
 
 For ever ; of free will ; for of menace 
 
 There was no token in her sweete face. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 And in my head I drew right hastily ; 
 
 And eft-soones I lent it forth again : 
 And saw her walk that very womanly, 
 
 With no wight mo but only women twain. 
 
 Then gan I study in myself, and sayn, 
 " Ah sweet, are ye a worldly creature, 
 " Or heavenly thing in likeness of nature ? 
 
 1 This seems (omen n complain; but should it not rather 
 be playett, to play or sport ? 
 * Started back. 3 Then a little.
 
 [ 307 ] 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " Or are ye god Cupidis own princess, 
 
 " And comen are to loose me out of band ? 
 
 " Or are ye very Nature the goddess, 
 " That have depainted with your heavenly hand 
 " This garden full of flouris as they stand ? 
 
 " What shall I think, alas ! what reverence 
 
 " Shall I mester T [un] to your excellence ? 
 
 xxv. 
 
 " GJ/Ty 6 a goddess be, and that ye like 
 " To do me pain, I may it not astert : 
 
 ** Giffy Q De worldly wight, that doth me sike* 
 Why lest 3 God make you so, my dearest heart, 
 " To do a silly prisoner thus smart, 
 
 " That loves you all, and wote of nought but wo ? 
 
 " And, therefore, mercy sweet ! sen it is so." 
 
 The dress and figure of his mistress are minute- 
 ly painted as follows : 
 
 xxvn. 
 
 Of her array the form gifl shall write, 
 Toward her golden hair and rich attire, 
 
 1 Administer ? (Tytltr.) 
 
 1 Mr Tytler supposes this word to stand for u'tf, or yt, sig- 
 nify ing tarrou, altered for the sake of the metre: butqu. ? 
 
 1 " If thou art a goddess, I cannot resist thy power; but 
 " if only a mortal creature, (jod surely cannot lest or in- 
 " cline you to grieve, or give pain to a poor creature that 
 * loves you." (Tytler.)
 
 C 308 ] 
 
 In fret-wise couched with pearlis white, 
 And greate balas * lemyng * as the fire, 
 With many an eraerant and fair sapphire, 
 And on her head a chaplet fresh of hue 
 Of plumys, parted red, and white, and blue. 
 
 xxviii. 
 
 Full of quaking spangis 3 bright as gold, 
 Forged of shape like to the amorettis ; 4 
 
 So new, so fresh, so pleasant to behold ; 
 The plumis eke like to thejloure-jonettis, s 
 And other of shape like to \hejloure-jonettis ; 6 
 
 And above all this there was, well I wote, 
 
 Beauty enough to make a world to dote J 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 UUH 
 
 About her neck, white as tliejfyre amaille t '' 
 A goodly chain of small orfeverye ; 8 
 
 Whereby there hang a ruby without fail, 
 Like to an heart [y-] shapen verily, 
 That as a spark of /owe, 9 so wantonly 
 
 1 A sort of precious stones (says Urry) brought from 
 Hulassia, in India. Tyrwhitt says, that lulu-is, Fr. is a sort 
 of bastard ruby. * Shining. 3 Spangles. 
 
 4 " Made in the form of a love-knot or garland." (Tytler.) 
 * Probably thejleur de gent, (genista) broom. 
 
 6 The repetition of this word is apparently a mistake of 
 the original transcriber. 
 
 7 Qu. Is this an error for fair email, i. e. enamel ? 
 
 8 Fr. Goldsmith 's-work. Fire. (Ruddimau's Glossary.)
 
 [ 309 ] 
 
 Seemed burning upon her white throat ; 
 Now g^there was good party, God it wote. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 And for to walk, that freshe Maye's morrow, 
 An hook she had upon her tissue white, 
 
 That goodlier had not been seen to-J arrow, * 
 As I suppose ; and girt she was a lijtc ; * 
 Thus halfling * loose for haste, to such delight 
 
 It was to see her youth in goodlihead, 
 
 That, for rudeness, to speak thereof I dread. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 In her was youth, beauty, with humble aport, 
 Bounty, richess, and womanly feature ; 
 
 God better wote than my pen can report : 
 Wisdom, largess, estate, and cunning sure, 
 In every point so guided her measure, 
 
 In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance, 
 
 That Nature might no more her child avance. 
 
 It would, perhaps, be difficult to select even 
 from Chaucer's most finished works a long spe- 
 cimen of descriptive poetry so uniformly elegant 
 as this : indeed some of the verses are so highly 
 
 ' Before. 
 
 3 Half.
 
 [ 310 ] 
 
 finished, that they would not disfigure the compo- 
 sitions of Dryden, Pope, or Gray. Nor was King 
 James's talent confined to serious and pathetic 
 compositions. Two poems of a ludicrous cast, and 
 which have been the constant favourites of the 
 Scotish people to the present day, are now uni- 
 versally attributed to this monarch. These are 
 
 Christ' x Kirlf nn the firf.p.n r and Pehlis to the Play ; 
 
 the first composed in the northern, and the second 
 in the southern dialect of Scotland. A third, called 
 Falkland on the Green, which Mr Pinkerton sup- 
 poses to have described the popular sports of the 
 central district of the kingdom, and to have been 
 written in the Fifeshire dialect, has hitherto eluded 
 the researches of antiquaries. In Mr Pinkerton's 
 Ancient Scotish Poems (London, 1786, p. 214) 
 is found a Song on Absence, which the editor sus- 
 pects to be the same described by Major, as be- 
 ginning with the words Yas sen, &c. 
 
 Of the King's Quair only one MS. is known to 
 exist : it is a small folio, in the Bodleian library 
 (Seld. Archiv. B. xxiv.) Mr Tytler, having pro- 
 cured a transcript of this MS. published it at 
 Edinburgh, 1783, together with Christ's Kirk on 
 the Green, under the title of " Poetical Remains 
 of James I." The work is illustrated with copious 
 notes, and with two dissertations ; the first on the
 
 C 311 ] 
 
 life and writings of the author, and the second on 
 Scotish music. 
 
 A strange fatality seems to have attended the 
 literature of this period. It has been just observed, 
 that King James's work was lately recovered by the 
 casual preservation of a single manuscript. His con- 
 temporary, CHARLES DUKE OF ORLEANS, father 
 of Louis XII., is still very imperfectly known to the 
 public by means of some short specimens of his 
 poetry given in the Annaks Poetigues( Paris, 1778), 
 and of a few more published in M. de Paulmy's 
 Melanges d'une grande Dibliotheque. 
 
 It is singular enough, that the two best poets of 
 the age, both of royal blood, both prisoners at 
 the same court, both distinguished by their mili- 
 tary as well as literary talents, both admired 
 during their lives, and regretted after death, as the 
 brightest ornaments of their respective nations, 
 should have been forgotten by the world during 
 more than three centuries, and at length restored 
 to their reputation at the same period. The Duke 
 of Orleans, who was taken prisoner at the battle of 
 Agincourt, acquired such a proficiency in our lan- 
 guage, during a stay of twenty years in this country, 
 as to write several small pieces of English poetry, 
 which are said to be still preserved in MS. in the 
 Royal Library at Paris. These may possibly not
 
 C 312 ] 
 
 be worth transcribing;* but, whatever be their 
 poetical merit, they may fairly be adduced as a 
 
 * Mr Ritson has printed (page 47 of his Dissertation on 
 Ancient Songs and Music, prefixed to his Ancient Songs, 
 London, 1792) a specimen of this Prince's English Poetry, 
 coped from No. 688 of the f larleian MSS. It is a dialogue 
 between a lover and his mistress ; but, being founded on a 
 strange sort of pun, or play on words, it is very obscure, 
 and apparently not worth unriddling. 
 
 Another MS. in the Museum (Bibl. Reg. 16. F. ii.) solely 
 consisting of Poems by the Duke of Orleans, affords three 
 specimens of his attempts at English poetry ; and, as they 
 are very short, and never were printed, I shall here subjoin 
 them all, in their original orthography. 
 
 CHANSON. 
 Go forth, my hert, with my lady ! 
 
 Loke that ye spar no bysynes, 1 
 
 To serve her with such lolynet z 
 (That 3 ye gette her oftyme* pryvely) 
 
 That she kepe truly her proines. 
 Go forth, &c. 
 Jniuit as a hells body 5 
 
 Abyde alone in hevynes ; 
 
 And ye shall dwell with your mastres 
 In plaisanns, glad and raery. 
 Go forth, &c. 
 
 1 Care, attention. * Lowliness. 
 
 3 If that ? * At any time ? 
 
 5 I cannot understand the word iniust; perhaps it means 
 exactly. Helit is perhaps hele-less t i. e, unhealthy, diseased.
 
 C sis ] 
 
 proof that our language had at this time acquired 
 some estimation in the eyes of foreigners. 
 
 CHANSON. 
 
 My hertly lore it in your governauns, 
 And ever shal, wbill that I lyve may j 
 I pray to God I may see that day 
 
 That we be koyt with tronthful! alyauos. 
 
 Ye shal not fynd feynyng or variauns, 
 As in ' my part : that wyl I trewly say. 
 
 My hertly, &c. 
 
 CHANSON. 
 
 Ne were' 1 my trewe innocent hert, 
 How ye hold with her aliauns, 
 That somtym with word of plesauns 
 Desceyved you under covert. 
 Thynke bow the stroke of love com smart, 
 
 Without warning or deffiaunt. * 
 Ne were my, &c. 
 And 4 ye shall pryvely or appert, 
 See her by me in lore's dauns, 
 With her fair femenyn contenauu? 
 Ye thai! never fro her astert ! 
 Ne were my, &c. 
 
 The MS. from which the foregoing extracts were made- 
 contains some illuminations of exquisite beauty. One of 
 these represents a person of rank, probably the duke, in the 
 white tower, writing, and attended by guards: at a dis- 
 tance is London bridge, with the houses and chapel built 
 upon it ; and the latter building u so minutely drawn, a 
 to afford a very good idea of what it really was. The MS. 
 was written for the twe of Heury VII. 
 
 1 On. * Query, if a. raUtnke of the Iraw- 
 
 criber, for bcwart t or, perhaps, for nay .' 'warr. 
 1 Mistrust. Fr. * An, if.
 
 [ S14 ] 
 
 It has been observed, that King James is repre- 
 sented to have been a complete master of music. 
 This art, indeed, was considered, perhaps from some 
 indistinct notion of its effects in humanizing the sa- 
 vage inhabitants of the earth, as a part of educa- 
 tion not only essential to the accomplished knight, 
 but to the sovereign, legislator, and divine : and 
 as closely connected with every branch of learning, 
 whether abstract or practical. In Pierce Plough- 
 man, Study says of Scripture, 
 
 " Logic I learned her, and many other laws, 
 " And all the unisons in music I made her to know," 
 
 (Pass, x.) 
 
 Fordun, in his Scotichronicon, has employed a 
 whole chapter in describing James's uncommon 
 excellence in the art ; and Mr Tytler, combining 
 this testimony with a very curious passage in the 
 works of Alessandro Tassoni, has inferred that 
 James I. was the " reformer, if not the inventor 
 " of the Scotish songs or vocal music." By this 
 he means, not that the peculiar melody of Scotish 
 airs took its rise in the fifteenth century, but 
 that James I. adapted it to modern harmony, and 
 introduced it into regular composition, by which 
 means it became known to the musical professors 
 of Italy and the rest of Europe. Mr Pinkerton, 
 on the contrary, is of opinion that the " Giacomo,
 
 [ 315 ] 
 
 " Re di Scozia" mentioned by Tassoni, is the 
 sixth, and Mr Ritson is of the same opinion. The 
 reader must decide for himself. 
 
 After the death of the duke of Albany, the inca- 
 pacity of his successor induced the Scotish nobility 
 to enter into serious negotiation for the liberty of 
 their captive sovereign ; who, after agreeing to pay 
 a heavy ransom for his freedom, was married, in 
 1424, to his beloved mistress, and at the same 
 time restored to his kingdom. In 1437 he was 
 assassinated at Perth, after a reign of twelve years, 
 equally honourable to himself and beneficial to his 
 people.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Reign of Henry VI. Digressiwi on the Pri- 
 vate Life of the English. 
 
 JL HAT we may not be encumbered by the accu- 
 mulation of our materials, it is obviously necessary 
 to take some opportunity of reviewing those which 
 we have collected ; of comparing them with such 
 descriptions of national manners as are furnished 
 by our professed historians ; and of connecting 
 them with such farther particulars as are to be 
 gleaned from sources of incidental information. 
 For this necessary digression, there is no period 
 more convenient than that on which we are now 
 entering; because the interval between the reigns 
 of Henry V. and Henry VIII., which comprehends 
 near a century, although uncommonly rich in 
 Scotish poets of distinguished excellence, does not 
 furnish us with a single name among the natives of 
 England deserving of much notice. Our survey 
 must, of course, be very rapid and rather desul- 
 tory, but it will at least break the monotony of 
 the narrative, and preclude for the future the ne- 
 cessity of introducing many detached observations,
 
 [ 317 ] 
 
 which, when our extracts become more amusing, 
 would prove a disagreeable interruption to the 
 reader. 
 
 To begin with the lower classes of society : 
 It- is generally agreed, that before the Norman 
 conquest, and for a long time after, nearly all the 
 lands of the kingdom were cultivated by serfs, whose 
 situation was, in many respects, scarcely distin- 
 guishable from absolute slavery. It may, how- 
 ever, be inferred from the very curious extract al- 
 ready quoted from Pierce Ploughman, that about 
 the middle of the fourteenth century, and probably 
 much earlier, the labouring poor, though still serfs 
 with respect to their feudal lords were perfectly 
 free with respect to their immediate employers. 
 The poet says, 
 
 " Labourers that have no land to live on, but her 
 
 hands, &c. 
 
 " But if he be HIGHLY HIRED else will he chide." 
 
 ( Pass. vi. ) 
 
 During a great part of the year, indeed, they were 
 glad to work for a mere subsistence, but \vhen pro- 
 visions were plentiful, they could only be induced 
 to work at all by the temptation of excessive wages. 
 Against this indolence the author inveighs with 
 great vehemence ; but his remonstrances were pro-
 
 C 318 ] 
 
 bably ineffectual, because a stupid insensibility and 
 a heedless profusion are the natural characteristics 
 of an oppressed and degraded people. 
 
 Besides, their conduct seems to have arisen in 
 some measure from the imperfect state of agricul- 
 ture. Animal food formed a considerable part of 
 the support of the people ; but as the whole of the 
 manure was used on the arable lands, and it was 
 impossible that large numbers of cattle could sub- 
 sist during the cold season on the natural pastures, 
 they were slaughtered and salted in autumn for a 
 winter provision. This is a reason adduced by Sir 
 John Fortescue for rejecting the gabelle or salt-tax, 
 as a source of revenue for England. " In France," 
 says he, " the people salten but little meat, except 
 " their bacon, and therefore they would buy little 
 " salt ; but yet they be artyd (compelled] to buy 
 " more salt than they would. This rule and order 
 " would be sore abhorred in England, as well by the 
 " merchants, that be wonted to have their freedom 
 " in buying and selling of salt, as by the people, that 
 " usen much to salt their meats more than do the 
 " Frenchmen." (Forteseue on Monarchy, Cap. X.) 
 
 But it appears that, partly from the improvi- 
 dence usual to a barbarous state of society, and 
 partly from the want of those internal means of 
 communication which tend to diffuse general abun-
 
 C 319 3 
 
 dance, these stores of animal food, as well as the 
 grain, were often consumed before the reproduc- 
 tion of a fresh stock. Hence, in the above-men- 
 tioned extracts from Pierce Ploughman, the poor 
 are represented as reduced to " loaves of beans 
 " and bran," and to " feed hunger with beans and 
 " baken apples, chyboles and chervil," until the 
 return of harvest again enabled them to waste 
 their time in idleness and profusion. 
 
 Even the farmers themselves, the order to which 
 Pierce the Ploughman apparently belonged, do not 
 seem to have fared very sumptuously during some 
 part of the year ; for he declares that his whole 
 provision consists in two green cheeses, some curds 
 and cream y and an oat cake : but he adds, that after 
 Lammas he may dight his dinner as he likes. The 
 particulars of his wealth are a cffw and calf, and a 
 cart-mare, which he keeps for the purpose of carry- 
 ing manure upon his land. These articles, perhaps, 
 were designed to give an exact statement of his 
 condition in society ; for they seem to agree with 
 what Sir John Fortescue considers as sufficient for 
 the maintenance of a yeoman. 
 
 It is very honourable to the good sense of the 
 English nation, that our best two early poets, 
 Chaucer, and the author of Pierce Ploughman, 
 have highly extolled this useful body of men, while
 
 [ 320 ] 
 
 the French minstrels of the twelfth, thirteenth, and 
 fourteenth centuries universally seem to approve 
 the supercilious contempt with which the nobles 
 affected to treat them. The absurd prejudices of 
 chivalry on this subject are not ill expressed by 
 Lydgate, where he makes Achilles express his ap- 
 prehensions that 
 
 " In this rage furious and 
 
 " Full likely is that all the gentle blood 
 
 " Throughout this worlde shall destroyed be ; 
 
 " And rural folk (and that were great pity) 
 
 *' Shall have lordship, and wholly governance : 
 
 *' And churles eke, with sorrow and mischance, 
 
 " In every land shall lordes be alone, 
 
 " When gentlemen be slayen each one." 
 
 (Cap. XXX. Sign. U ii. ed. Marsh.) 
 
 There is a curious chapter in Sir John Fortescue's 
 Treatise de Laudibus Legum Anglwe, which seems 
 to prove that the smaller landholders in England 
 usually enjoyed more comforts than, from the ge- 
 neral language of historians, we should be led to 
 imagine ; for he asserts, that " there is scarce a 
 " small village in which you may not find a knight, 
 " an esquire, or some substantial householder, com- 
 *' monly called afrankleyne; allmen of considerable 
 " estates: there are others who are called free-
 
 t 321 ] 
 
 " holders, and many yeomen of estates sufficient 
 " to make a substantial jury." (Chap. XXIX). 
 This wealth he attributes principally to the enclo- 
 sure of our pasture-lands. 
 
 The same writer thus describes the comparative 
 poverty of the French common people : " The same 
 " commons be so impoverished and destroyed, that 
 " they may unneth (scarcely) live. They drink 
 " water ; they eat apples, with bread right brown, 
 " made of rye. They eat no flesh, but if it be 
 " seldom a little lard, or of the entrails or heads of 
 " beasts slain for the nobles and merchants of the 
 " land. They wearen no woollen, but if it be a 
 " poor coat under their outermost garment, made 
 " of great canvass, and call it a frock. Their hosen 
 " be of like canvass, and passen not their knee, 
 " wherefore they be gartered and their thighs bare. 
 " Their wives and children gone barefoot ; they 
 " may in none otherwise live. For some of them 
 " that was wont to pay to his lord for his tenement, 
 " which he hireth by the year, a scute (a crown), 
 " payeth now to the king over that scute, five 
 " scutes. Wherethrough they be artyd (compelled) 
 " by necessity so to watch, labour, and grub in the 
 " ground for their sustenance, that their nature is 
 " much wasted, and the kind of them brought to 
 " nought. They gone crooked, and are feeble, not 
 
 VOL. i. x
 
 [ 322 ] 
 
 " able to fight," &c. (Fortescue on Monarchy, 
 Chap. III.) 
 
 . But though the lower orders of people in England 
 were so advantageously distinguished from those of 
 other nations by a superiority in food and cloth- 
 ing, their domestic buildings seem to have been 
 much inferior to those on the continent ; and this 
 inferiority continued even down to the reign of 
 Queen Elizabeth, as appears from the confession 
 of Harrison. 
 
 " In old time," says he, " the houses of the Britons 
 " were slightly set up with a few posts, and many 
 " radels (hurdles), with stable and all offices under 
 " one roof; the like whereof almost is to be seen in 
 " the fenny countries and northern parts unto this 
 " day, where, for lack of wood, they are enforced 
 " to continue this ancient manner of building." 
 " So in the open and champaign countries, they are 
 " enforced, for want of stuff, to use no studs* at all, 
 " but only frank-posts, '* " and such principals ; 
 " with here and there a girding, whereunto they 
 " fasten their splints or radels, and then cast it all 
 " over with thick clay, to keep out the wind, which 
 " otherwise would annoy them. Certes, this rude 
 " kind of building made the Spaniards in Queen 
 " Mary's days to wonder, but chiefly when they 
 * The upright beams. Sai.
 
 [ 323 ] 
 
 " saw what large diet was used in many of these 
 " so homely cottages ; insomuch that one of no 
 " small reputation amongst them said after this 
 " manner : ' These English,' quoth he, ' have their 
 " houses made of sticks and dirt, but they fare 
 " commonly so well as the king.'" (Harrison's 
 Description of England, prefixed to Holinshed, 
 p. 187.) 
 
 We have already seen that glazed windows* are 
 always mentioned by our- early poets with an air 
 of affectation which evinces their rarity ; so that 
 we are not surprised at being told that the yeomen 
 and farmers were perfectly contented with windows 
 of lattice. Rooms provided with chimnies are also 
 noticed as a luxury by the author of Pierce Plough- 
 man : but it is difficult to read with gravity the 
 sagacious observations of Harrison on the ill con- 
 sequences attending the enjoyment of warmth with- 
 out the risk of suffocation. " Now," says he, " have 
 " we many chimnies, and yet our tenderlings com- 
 " plain of rheums, catarrhs, and poses (colds in 
 " the head). Then had we none but reredosses,\ 
 
 Anderson (History of Commerce, vol. I. p. 90, edit. 
 1764) says, that they were first introduced into England 
 in 1180. 
 
 t This word is sometimes used to express some part of 
 a chimney, and sometimes a substitute for one. It seems
 
 [ 324 ] 
 
 " and our heads did never ache. For as the smoke 
 " in" those days was supposed to be a sufficient 
 " hardening for the timber of the house, so it was 
 " reputed a far better medicine to keep the good 
 " man and his family from the quacke (ague?) or 
 " pose ; wherewith, as then, very few were oft ac- 
 " quainted." (Description of England, p. 212.) 
 
 After witnessing the indignation which the au- 
 thor has vented against the " tenderlings" of his 
 time, the reader may possibly learn with some sur- 
 prise, that, from the latter end of the thirteenth to 
 near the sixteenth rentury, persons of all ranks, 
 and of both sexes, were universally in the habit of 
 sleeping quite naked. This custom is often alluded 
 to by Chaucer, Gower, Lydgate, and all our an- 
 cient writers. In the Squire of Lota Degree there 
 is a curious instance : 
 
 " she rose, that lady dear, 
 
 " To take her leave of that squyere 
 
 " All so naked as she was born, 
 
 " She stood her chamber-door before." 
 
 [Vers. 671.] 
 
 In the " Aresta Amorum," (Ar. Ill), a lady, 
 who had stipulated to throw a nosegay to her lover 
 
 to mean a plate of iron, or perhaps a coating of brick, to 
 enable the wall to resist the flame.
 
 [ 325 ] 
 
 on a particular night in each week, complains of 
 the difficulty she found in escaping to the window, 
 " ou par fois etoit toute nue par 1* espace de deux 
 " grosses heures." This strange practice prevailed 
 at a time when the day-dress of both sexes was 
 much warmer than at present ; being generally 
 bordered, and often lined, with furs ; insomuch, 
 that numberless warrens were established in the 
 neighbourhood of London for the purpose of sup- 
 plying its inhabitants with rabbets' skins. 
 
 Perhaps it was this warmth of clothing that ena- 
 bled our ancestors, in defiance of a northern cli- 
 mate, to serenade their mistresses with as much 
 perseverance as if they had lived under the torrid 
 zone. Chaucer thought he had given us the date 
 of his Dream with sufficient exactness, when he 
 described it as happening 
 
 " About such hour as lovers weep 
 " And cry after their ladies' grace." 
 
 [Vers. 55.] 
 
 In France, as appears from the work already 
 quoted, the lovers were sometimes bound to con- 
 duct " les tabourins et les has menestriers" to the 
 doors of their mistresses between midnight and 
 day-break, on every festival throughout the year ; 
 though the principal season for such gallantry was 
 the beginning of May, when the windows were
 
 [ 326 ] 
 
 ornamented with pots of marjoram, and may-poles 
 hung with garlands carried through the streets, and 
 raised before every door in succession. This was 
 called, reveiller les pots de mariolaine, and planter 
 le mai> The same season appears to have been 
 chosen by English lovers for the purpose of crying 
 after their ladies grace. 
 
 In houses, of which the walls were made of clay, 
 and the floors of the same materials, and where the 
 stabling was under the same roof with the dwell- 
 ing rooms, the furniture was not likely to be cost- 
 ly. Of this the author just quoted received from 
 some ancient neighbours the following description : 
 " Our fathers (yea and we ourselves also) have 
 " lien full oft upon straw pallets, on rough mats, 
 " covered only with a sheet, under coverlets maid 
 " of dagstoain, or kopharlots* (I use their own 
 " terms), and a good round log under their heads, 
 " instead of a bolster or pillow If it were so 
 " that our fathers, or the good man of the house, 
 " had, within seven years after his marriage, pur- 
 " chased a mattress or flock bed, and thereto a 
 " sack of chaff to rest his head upon, he thought 
 " himself to be as well lodged as the lord of the 
 
 baj. Sax (from whence daggle or draggle) any thing 
 pendent, a shred. The term therefore seems to mean any 
 patched materials, like those worn by the poorest country 
 people. . 2
 
 [ 327 ] 
 
 " town ; that, peradventure, lay seldom in a bed of 
 " down or whole feathers." " As for servants, if 
 " they had any sheet above them, it was well ; for 
 " seldom had they any under their bodies, to keep 
 " themfrom the prickings traws that ran oft through 
 " the canvas of the pallet, and rased their hardened 
 hides." (P. 188.) 
 
 The progress of improvement in building was 
 from clay to lath and plaster, which was formed in- 
 to pannels between the principal timbers ; to floors 
 or pargets (as Harrison calls them, i. e. parquets) 
 coated with plaster of Paris ; and to ceilings over- 
 laid with mortar and washed with lime or plaster 
 " of delectable whiteness." Country houses were 
 generally covered with shingles ; but in towns the 
 danger of fires obliged the inhabitants to adopt 
 the use of tile or slate. These latter buildings 
 were very solid, and consisted of many stories pro- 
 jecting over each other, so that the windows on 
 opposite sides of the street nearly met. " The 
 " walls of our houses on the inner sides (says Har- 
 " rison), be either hanged with tapestry, arras- 
 " work, or painted cloths, wherein either divers 
 " histories, or herbs, beasts, knots, and such like, 
 " are stained, or else they are seeled with oak of 
 " our own, or wainscot brought hither out of the 
 " east countries." (P. 187.) This relates, of course,
 
 E 828 ] 
 
 to the houses of the wealthy, which he also repre- 
 sents as abounding in plate and pewter. In earlier 
 times, wooden platters, bowls, and drinking vessels 
 were universally used, excepting in the houses of the 
 nobles. In France, if we may believe M. de Paul- 
 my (Vie privee des Fra^ois), slices of bread, call- 
 ed, " pains tranchoirs," were used as a substitute 
 for plates till the reign of Louis XII.* 
 
 Though our readers are not likely to be much 
 enamoured with Lydgate's poetry, they will per- 
 haps pardon the following extract from his " Lon- 
 " don Lyckpenny,"f (Harl. MSS. 367) in fa- 
 
 * Mr Ritsqn observes (" Ancient Engleish Metrical Ro- 
 maneses," III. 432) that " M. Le Grand d'Ausfy (and not, 
 *' as mister Ellis says, M. de 1'aumy), was the authour of 
 " La vie privee des Fran$o'i9," which has even his name in 
 " the title-page." If Mr Ritson had been as well read in 
 Mr Le Grand's work as he is in the title-page, he would 
 have known that this was not the book I meant to quote : 
 and if he will turn to the " Melanges d'unc grand c Biblio- 
 tbeque," generally attributed to M. de I'aulmy, he will find, 
 in p. 114 of vol. III. containing " La Vie privee des Fran- 
 $ois," the passage I did quote. 
 
 f " Some call London a lick-penny (as Paris is called, by 
 " some, a pickpurse) because of feastings, with other occa- 
 " sions of expcncc and allurements, which cause so many 
 " unthrifts among country gentlemen, and others, who flock 
 " into her, in such excessive multitudes." Ifowell's Londn- 
 nopolis, p, 406.
 
 [ 329 ] 
 
 vour of some curious particulars which it contains 
 respecting the city of London. The entire poem 
 is to be found in Mr Strutt's View of Manners, 
 &c. vol. III. p. 59, &c. in which, however, there 
 are some trifling errors. Lydgate supposes him- 
 self to have come to town in search of legal re- 
 dress for some wrong, and to have visited succes- 
 sively the King's Bench, the court of Common 
 Pleas, the court of Chancery,and Westminster hall. 
 
 Within the hall, neither rich, nor yet poor 
 
 Would do for me ought, although I should die : 
 
 Which seeing, I gat me out of the door, 
 Where Flemings began on me for to cry, 
 " Master, what will you copen * or buy ? 
 
 " Fine felt hats ? or spectacles to read ? 
 
 " Lay down your silver, and here you may speed." 
 
 Then to Westminster gate I presently went, 
 When the sun was at high prime : 
 
 Cooks to me they took good intent, * 
 
 And proffered me bread, with ale, and wine, 
 Ribs of beef, both fat and full fine; 
 
 A fair cloth they gan for to spread, 
 
 But, wanting money, I might not be sped. 
 
 1 Kooptn, I'lcm. it to buy. 
 * Took notice, paid attention.
 
 [ 330 ] 
 
 Then unto London I did me hie, 
 Of all the land it beareth the price ; 
 
 " Hot peascods !" one began to cry, 
 
 " Strawberry ripe, and cherries in the rysc!" * 
 One bade me come near and buy some spice ; 
 
 Pepper, and saffron they gan me bede ; * 
 
 But, for lack of money, I might not speed. 
 
 Then to the Cheap I gan me drawn, 
 Where much people I saw for to stand ; 
 
 One offered me velvet, silk, and lawn, 
 Another he taketh me by the hand, 
 " Here is Paris thread, the finest in the land !" 
 
 I never was used to such things, indeed ; 
 
 .And, wanting money, I might not speed. 
 
 Then went I forth by London stone, 5 
 Throughout all Cantvyke street : 
 
 Drapers much cloth me offered anon ; 
 
 Then comes me one cried " hot sheep's feet ;" 
 One cried mackerel, rysses green 4 another gan 
 greet, * 
 
 1 On the twig. a Bid. 
 
 3 A fragment of London stone is still preserved in Can- 
 non-street, formerly called Canwick, or Caudlewick- 
 strcet. Stowe, in his account of Candlewick Ward, refers 
 to this ballad. 
 
 4 Green rushes. 5 Cry.
 
 [ 331 ] 
 
 One bade me buy a hood to cover my head ; 
 But, for want of money, I might not be sped. 
 
 Then I hied me unto East-Cheap, 
 
 One cries ribs of beef, and many a pie ; 
 
 Pewter pots they clattered on a heap ; 
 There was harp, pipe, and minstrelsy ; 
 Yea by cock ! nay by cock ! some began cry ; 
 
 Some sung of Jenken and Julyan for their meed ; 
 
 But, for lack of money, I might not speed. 
 
 Then into Cornhill anon I yodt, 
 
 Where was much stolen gear : among 
 
 I saw where hung mine owne hood, 
 That I had lost among the throng ; 
 To buy my own hood I thought it wrong : 
 
 I knew it, well as I did my creed ; 
 
 But, for lack of money, I could not speed. 
 
 The taverner took me by the sleeve, 
 
 " Sir," saith he, " will you our wine assay ?" 
 
 I answered, " that can not much me grieve, 
 " A penny can do no more than it may ;" 
 I drank a pint, and for it did pay ; 
 
 Yet, sore a-hungered from thence I yede, 
 
 And, wanting money, I could not speed, &c. 
 
 Lydgate has here ridiculed, with more pleasantry
 
 C 332 ]} 
 
 than usually belongs to him, the importunate civi- 
 lity of the lower tradesmen. The attraction of 
 customers seems to have been by the mote opu- 
 lent shopkeepers assigned to their apprentices; 
 for Perlin,a. French physician, who visited England 
 in the reign of Edward VI., says, " Vous verrez a 
 " Londres des apprentifs avec des robes centre 
 " Icurs boutiques, nuds tetes, et contre les murailles 
 " de leurs maisons ; tellement, qu'en passant parmi 
 " les rues, vous en trouverez cinquante ou soixante 
 " contre les murailles, comme idoles, ayant leurs 
 " bonnets a la main." * He seems to have been 
 much surprised at our shops, which he says are 
 always open, like those of the barbers in France, and 
 have glass windows, generally adorned with pots of 
 flowers ; but he particularly notices the wealth of 
 the tavern-keepers, and the neatness of their rooms ; 
 for he says, *' aux tavern es (vous verrez) force 
 " foindessus les planchersde bois,f et force oreillers 
 
 * " Description des Royaulroes d' Angleterre et d'JZscosse. 
 " Par. 1568." Reprinted with notes, Lond. 1775. 4to. 
 
 t Erasmus, in a letter to Franciscus, Wolsey's physician, 
 ascribes the plague (then vcr\ common in England) and the 
 sweating sickness to the sluttishness which this custom 
 tended to perpetuate. The floors, he says, are commonly 
 of clay, strewed with rushes ; under which lies unmo- 
 lested a putrid mixture of beer, stinking fragments of food, 
 and all sorts of nastiness. lie also censures the filth of 
 our streets, and even the construction of oar houses, the
 
 [ 333 ] 
 
 " et tapisseries sur lesquels les voyageurs se assis- 
 " ent (asseyent") This practice of spreading hay 
 or rushes on the floors seems to have been at least 
 coeval with the arrival of the Normans. Carpets,* 
 though introduced as early as the Crusades, were 
 hitherto only used as coverings for chairs, or for 
 tables, particularly for side-boards, or (as our an- 
 cestors called them) cup-hordes,-^ on which their 
 plate or pewter was exhibited. 
 
 rooms of which ooght to have, as he thinks, some windows in 
 every direction. He farther complains, that these window?, 
 though they excluded the w ind, admitted unwholesome cur- 
 rentsofair. To explain this part of his letter, which is rather 
 obscure, it may be proper to observe, that the illumination- 
 in many MSS. represent the windows ae composed of three 
 compartments, of which the lowest consisted of a close lat- 
 tice-work, the upper of glass, while the central compartment 
 was quite open. Two-thirds only of these windows were 
 usually closed with shutters, the upper part being left for 
 the admission of light. Such a partial shelter could not so 
 totally exclude the air as to satisfy ,-uch an invalid as Eras- 
 mus. (See Jorf in's Life of Erasmus, vol. IF. p. 341.) 
 
 * Gilt and painted leather, being often applied to the 
 same purposes as a carpet, was frequently called by the 
 same name. Among the goods belonging to Henry V. and 
 sold to pay his debts, were some " carpetz de coir," va- 
 lued at 3i. 4d. the piece. (Rolls of Part. A. I) 1423.) 
 
 t In the inventory of furniture belonging to the bed- 
 chamber of Henry VIII. at Hampton Court, were two
 
 C 33* ] 
 
 The stately castles of our nobility do not require 
 any description here ; because, having been in- 
 tended for the purpose of resisting the attacks of 
 an enemy, they were constructed with such soli- 
 dity as to survive the depredations of time; and are, 
 in some instances, preserved to the present day 
 with little alteration in their external appearance. 
 Their interior furniture, indeed, was of a more 
 perishable nature : but a few oaken benches and 
 tables, raised on strong trestles, sometimes morticed 
 into the floor, and sometimes with folding legs, a 
 bed, a pair of andirons, or dogs, with their accom- 
 paniment of tongs, or a chafer (chafing-dish,) ge- 
 nerally formed the whole inventory of the best 
 furnished apartment. 
 
 When we consider our great feudal barons, in- 
 habiting their solitary " dungeons," without the 
 use of letters, or the comforts of that mixed so- 
 ciety which civilization has gradually introduced, 
 we shall at first be tempted to suspect that the 
 " sadness of demeanour," which was the charac- 
 teristic of good breeding, arose from the dulness 
 and uniformity of their lives. Yet the list of their 
 amusements, though differing in some particulars 
 from those of their successors, was extremely nu- 
 
 joined cupbordt. (tern, oaejoyned-stool, &c. (Strutt's Man. 
 ners, &c. vol. III. p. 69.)
 
 [ 335 ] 
 
 merous. Much time must have been dedicated t 
 the practice of fighting, both in jest and in earnest; 
 because romance is principally employed in descri- 
 bing the one, and history contains little more than 
 their exploits in the other. The mystery of the 
 luoods, or science of hunting, required no less study 
 of mind and labour of body than the conduct of a 
 military expedition ; and, at a time of the year 
 when venison was the only fresh meat that could 
 be procured, it was, perhaps, a necessary occupa- 
 tion. Hawking, or the mystery of rivers, by which 
 they principally supplied their tables with wild 
 fowl, and which required little preparation, was an 
 almost daily source of amusement ; and when the 
 weather was such as to preclude the possibility of 
 these exercises, there still remained the sedentary 
 recreations of chess, back-gammon, and various 
 other games on the tables, music, dancing, ques- 
 tions of love, and stories of past, or the anticipa- 
 tion of future tournaments. 
 
 But a very principal business of life was eating 
 and drinking. It is true that, for some time after 
 the conquest, the Norman nobles were satisfied 
 with two moderate meals in a day ; but it was at 
 length discovered that no less than five might, 
 without much inconvenience, be introduced into 
 the same period ; and that three hours were by ny
 
 [ 336 ] 
 
 means too long for the principal meal, allowing for 
 the ceremonies of washing,* of marshalling the 
 guests and the dishes, and listening to the tales or 
 music of the minstrels. Public suppers were gene- 
 rally followed by dancing ;f and that by the rear- 
 
 * It seems tbat the whole company washed in succession, 
 and that it was usual for the mistress of the house to lead 
 out for this purpose the guest whom she particularly wish- 
 ed to distinguish. In the fabliau of Lc chevalier quifaisoit 
 parler, &c. the author says 
 
 Et la comtesse pour laver 
 
 Frit par les mains le chevalier, 
 
 * * * 
 
 Et pnis le comte, et les pucelles, 
 Les dames, et les demoiselles 
 Lavent apres, et 1' autre gent. 
 -- In the same fabliau it is said 
 
 Avint qu'il fut terns de soupcr, 
 Si s'en rallerent, pair-a-pair, 
 Si comme au matin s'asseoir. 
 Moult furent bien servis le soir 
 De viandes a grant plente 
 I!t de vins a leur volontf . 
 Apres manger chacun commence 
 De faire caroles et danses, 
 Tant qu'il fut heure de concher. 
 Paris emmenent le chevalier 
 En sa chambre, ou fait fut son lit ; 
 Et la, burent par grant delit, 
 Puis prirent conge, &c.
 
 C 337 ] 
 
 supper, or collation, consisting of spiced cakes and 
 medicated wines. 
 
 In all the above-mentioned amusements (war 
 and tilting only excepted) the ladies appear to have 
 participated : indeed, their will was the motive of 
 every action. And hence, while the stouter knights 
 were exchanging wounds and bruises for their di- 
 version, the less valorous courtiers were employed 
 in devising those astonishing varieties of dress and 
 changes of fashion which distinguished the four- 
 teenth century, to the great scandal of our simple 
 historians, who deplored the waste of time and 
 money, and the distortion of the human shape, 
 produced by modes so " destitute and desert from 
 " all old honest and good usage." The pointed 
 shoes, the trailing sleeves, the party-coloured dou- 
 blets and mantles, and indecorous hose of the men, 
 and the horned-caps, and strait-laced bodices, or 
 stays, of the women, are mentioned by many his- 
 torians with pious horror.* The monk of Glaston- 
 
 * The most pernicious fashion in nse amongst the women 
 of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries was that of paint- 
 ing. But it may be hoped that it was confined (as it is in 
 Russia) to the lower ranks of the community. In a tiroente, 
 written in ridicule of old ladies, by Augier, a troubadour 
 of the twelfth century, he says, " Je ne peux -outlrir le 
 " tcint blanc et rouge que les vieillei e font avec 1'ongueat 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 [ 338 ] 
 
 bury tells us they wore such strait clothes, that 
 they had long fox tails sewed under their garments, 
 to hold them forth ; and, in his indignation against 
 such an insidious species of lining, exclaims " the 
 " which disguisings, and pride, peradventure, af- 
 " terward brought forth and caused many mishaps 
 " and mischief in the realm of England." (Cax- 
 ton's Chronicle). 
 
 One of our old minstrels, author of a romance 
 called " The Squyr of Low Degre," having con- 
 trived to enumerate, within a tolerably moderate 
 compass, all the amusements known to the fair sex 
 during the middle ages, it may not be amiss to 
 transcribe the whole passage (as Mr Warton has 
 already done), because the book, though printed, 
 is extremely scarce.* The heroine of the piece, 
 a daughter of the king of Hungary, being plunged 
 
 " d'un ceuf battu, qu'elles s'appliquent sur le visage, et du 
 " blanc pardessus." Hist. Litt. des Troubadours, Tom. I. 
 p. 345. It appears, from another piece cited in the same 
 work (Tom. III. p. 167), that the ladies used a mixture of 
 quicksilver and various drugs for painting, as well as the 
 common red and white. 
 
 No MS. of it has been seen, and tbe only printed copy 
 known to exist is among Mr Garrick's old plays in the Bri- 
 tish Museum, from which, however, it is now published en- 
 tire in Mr Ritson's collection, and the subsequent extract 
 has been corrected after his copy.
 
 [ 339 ] 
 
 (in consequence of her love for the squire) in a 
 deep melancholy, the king, her father, endeavours 
 to enliven her imagination by presenting to her 
 the following picture of the amusements that he 
 intends to procure for her : 
 
 " To-morrow ye shall on hunting fare, 
 " And ride, my daughter, in a chare ; * 
 " It shall be cover'd with velvet red, 
 " And clothes of fine gold all about your head, 
 " With damask white, and azure blue, 
 " Well diapered * with lilies new. 
 " Your pomelles* shall be ended with gold, 
 " Your chains enamell'd, many a fold ; 
 " Your mantle of rich degree, 
 " Purple pall, 4 and ermine./ree. 5 
 
 * Jennets of Spain that ben so white, 
 " Trapp'd to the ground with velvet bright. 
 
 ' Car, or chariot. * Variegated. 
 
 3 Pomd is interpreted by La Combe, " sorte d 'ornament 
 " aux habits dYglise." Mr Rilson defines pomels " ball*, 
 " apples." 
 
 4 " Fine cloth, usc'd fur the robes of kings, princeei, aud 
 " persons of rank or consequence: generally purpcl or purpur. 
 
 In Langhams Letter, 1575, we meet with " a pall of 
 " white silk." " It is now confined to velvet, blackness, 
 " and funeral processions." (Kitson.) Noblr.
 
 [ 340 ] 
 
 ** Ye shall have harp, psaltry, and song, 
 " And other mirthes you among. 
 
 " Ye shall have Rumney,* and Malmesyne^ 
 " Both Ypocrasse, and Vernage J wine, 
 " Mount rose, 4 and wine Greek 5 
 " Both Algradc, 6 and Respice 7 eke, 
 " Antioche and Bastarde, 8 
 " Pyment 9 also, and Garnard, l 
 " Wine of Greek, and Muscadell, " 
 
 1 Wine of Romance, in Burgundy. 
 
 * Malmsey, mahoisie. Fr. 
 
 3 Wine of Vernou, in Touraine. 
 
 * Perhaps wine of Montrachet, near Beaume ; still in esti- 
 mation. 5 " Le vin Grec is mentioned by 
 M. Le GrandffAutfy." (Ritson> 
 
 6 Does this mean Spanih wine, from Algarva? 
 
 7 " A wine now unknown." (Ritson). Query, cCespice, 
 vin d'espices? 
 
 8 Junius calls vinum passuui (i. e. raisin wine,) vin bastard. 
 Harrison mentions it as a strong wine, and good for diges- 
 tion. Mr Ritson says Bastarde is " a wine of Corsica, so 
 " call'd, as is conjecture'd, from being mix'd with honey. 
 " It was a common beverage in London, so late as Shak- 
 " speare's time." 
 
 9 "Artificial wine, resembleing clary or hippocras; a 
 " mixture, that is, of wine, honey, and spicees." (Ritson). 
 
 10 Does this mean choice wine ? wine kept in the garner, 
 or warehouse ? Mr Ritson explains it " a 
 
 11 ' A French wine," (Ritson,)
 
 [ 341 ] 
 
 Both Clare, ' Pyment, and Rochett : 
 " The red, your stomach to defy t * 
 " And pots of osey* set you by. 
 
 " You shall have venison y-bake ; 
 " The best wild-fowl that may be take ; 
 " A leash of grey-hounds with you to strike, 
 " And hart and hind, and other like. 
 " Ye shall be set at such a tryst, * 
 " That hart and hind shall come to your fist ; 
 " Your disease to drive you fro, 
 
 " To hear the bugles there y-bloir. 
 
 *** 
 
 " Homeward thus shall ye ride 
 
 " On hawking by the rivers side, 
 
 " With gos-hawk, and with gentil falcon, 
 
 " With eglehorn, 6 and merlyon. 7 
 
 " When you come home your men among, 
 
 " Ye shall have revel, dances, and song ; 
 
 1 " Clary, a mixture of wine and honey : clairet. F." 
 (Ritson.) 
 
 * Wine of Roc belle. 
 
 a Defend ? De/aix, tn old Fr. is defence (V. La Combe.) 
 
 * Qu. oseillc ? (sorrel). 
 
 5 A post, or station, in hunting. Tyrwhitt'i Glos*. 
 
 6 " An egkyl appears to be a species of hawk : sec Strutt'a 
 " Mannen, &c. III. 1S4." (Ritson). 
 
 7 " Jtfcr/jn, a specie* of hawk : emerillo*. F." (Ritson.)
 
 C 342 ] 
 
 " Little children great and smale 
 " Shall sing as doth the nightingale. 
 
 " Then shall ye go to your even song, 
 " With tenours and trebles among, 
 " Three score of copes of damask bright 
 " Full of pearls they shall be pyght. * 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 " Your censers shall be of gold, 
 " Indent with azure, many a fold. 
 " Your choir nor organ-song shall want 
 " With counter-note and descant, 
 " The other half on organs playing, 
 " With young children full fair singing. 
 
 " Then shall ye go to your suppere, 
 " And sit in tents in green arbere, 
 " With cloths of Arras pyght to the ground, 
 " With sapphires set, and diamond. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " An hundred knightes, truly told, 
 " Shall play with bowls in alleys cold, 
 " Your disease to drive away. 
 
 " To see the fishes in pools play, 
 
 ****** 
 
 1 Sewed or quilted ; piqut, Fr.
 
 [ 343 J 
 
 " To a draw-bridge then shall ye, 
 " The one half of stone, the other of tree. 
 " A barge shall meet you full right, 
 " With twenty-four oars full bright, 
 " With trumpets and with clarion, 
 
 " The fresh water to row up and down. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " Then shall ye, daughter, ask the wine, 
 " With spices that be good and fine, 
 " Gentil pots with ginger green, 
 " With dates and dainties you between. 
 *' Forty torches, brenyna bright, 
 " At your bridges to bring you light, 
 " Into your chamber they shall you bring 
 " With much mirth and more liking. 
 
 " Your blankets shall be offustat/ne, l 
 " Your sheets shall be of cloth ofraync,* 
 " Your head-sheet shall be ofpery 3 pyght, 
 " With diamond set, and rubies bright. 
 
 1 Futtaine, or futaine, FT. is a thick cotton cloth, of 
 which coverlets are still commonly made. 
 
 2 Of Kennes in liritany. " This cloth is noticed l>\ Cli.-iu- 
 " cer for its particular softness." (IlitsonJ. 
 
 3 Embroidered with precious stone).
 
 C 3M 3 
 
 " When you are laid in bed so soft, 
 " A cage of gold shall hang aloft, 
 " With long-pepper fair burning, 
 " And cloves that be sweet smelling, 
 " Frankincense and olibanum, 
 " That when ye sleep the taste may come. 
 " And, if ye no rest may take,- 
 " All night minstrels for you shall wake." 
 
 A modern princess might possioly object to 
 breathing the smoke of pepper, cloves, and frank- 
 incense during her sleep ; but the fondness of our 
 ancestors for these, and indeed for perfumes of all 
 kinds, was excessive. We have seen that Lydgate 
 thought it necessary that Venus, when rising from 
 the sea, should be enointe inith gums and ointments 
 sweeter for to smell ; and Martial d'Auvergne, a 
 celebrated French poet of the fifteenth century, 
 in his prologue to the Aresta Amorum (Decrees 
 of the Court of Love), observes of the lady-judges 
 of that court, that 
 
 Leurs habits sentoient le cypres 
 Et le muse si abondamment, 
 
 Que 1'on n'eut su etre au plus pres 
 Sans eternuer largement.
 
 [ 345 ] 
 
 Outre plus, en lieu d'herbe verd, 
 Qu'on a accoustumS d'espandrc, 
 
 Tout le parquet etoit couvert 
 De romarin et de lavandre. 
 
 In the foregoing description of diversions the 
 good king of Hungary has forgotten one, which 
 seems to have been as great a favourite with the 
 English and French as it ever was with the Turkish 
 ladies. This is the bath. It was considered, and 
 with great reason, as the best of all cosmetics ; and 
 Mr Strutt has extracted from an old MS. of prog- 
 nostications, written in the time of Richard II., a 
 medical caution to the women, against " going to 
 " the bath/or beauty" during the months of March 
 and November. But it seems also to have been 
 usual for women to bathe together for the purpose 
 of conversation : for in the fabliau of Constant du 
 Hamel (in Barbazan's collection) an invitation for 
 this purpose occurs to the wife as the most natural 
 device for effecting her purpose, and her three fe- 
 male friends are successfully the dupes of the ar- 
 tifice. The generality* of the fabliaux, however, 
 
 See Le Grand, Tom. III. p 456; Tom. IV. p. 175,232. 
 Promiscuous bathing IB also exhibited In some of the early 
 specimens of engraving, in which women are often repre- 
 tented as attend ing men to the bath, as they still do at Berne.
 
 [ 346 ] 
 
 while they prove that baths, or at least bathing- 
 tubs, were to be found even in the houses of the 
 poorest tradesmen, evince also that they were not 
 always very innocently employed ; and those of 
 public resort became so infamous, that their very 
 names are expressive of debauchery. 
 
 The reader may possibly be of opinion that the 
 spectacle of an hundred knights playing at bowls 
 " in alleys cold" would not be so amusing as even 
 the simplest kind of theatrical representations ; and 
 as mysteries, or miracle-plays, are mentioned by 
 Chaucer's Wife of Bath as a common and fashion- 
 able diversion, it may be thought that one of these 
 might have been advantageously' substituted for 
 the regiment of bowling knights. But the mys- 
 teries were for a long time exhibited only on sta- 
 ted festivals ; they were performed solely by eccle- 
 siastics ; they required considerable preparation ; 
 and there did not exist in England (the only coun- 
 try which seems to have been known to the author 
 
 Wenceslaus, emperor and king of Bohemia, who died in 
 1418, was much attached to the bathing girl who attended 
 him during his captivity, and for whose sake he is said to 
 have bestowed many privileges and immunities on the owners 
 of the baths at Baden. Her picture occurs very frequently 
 in a finely illuminated bible, written at his instance, and still 
 preserved in the Imperial library at Vienna. This anecdote 
 is mentioned by Lambecius in his account of that library.
 
 [ 347 ] 
 
 of the romance) any company of actors, at the 
 disposal of the couit, till after the middle of the 
 sixteenth century. 
 
 Mr Warton, in his History of Poetry, has taken 
 great pains to discover the origin, and trace the 
 progress of theatrical entertainments in Europe ; 
 and, though the subject is much too extensive for 
 the present work, it may be worth while to pre- 
 sent to the reader what seems to be the general 
 outline of his opinion. 
 
 He observes that, as early as the fourth century, 
 Gregory Nazianzen, an archbishop and poet, with 
 a view of banishing pagan plays from the theatre 
 of Constantinople, had composed many sacred 
 dramas, intended to be substituted for the Greek 
 tragedies, with hymns in lieu of the chorus. What- 
 ever may have been the result of this first struggle 
 between piety and taste, a second project of a 
 similar nature is stated to have been successful. 
 Theophylact, another patriarch, invented or adopt- 
 ed, about the year 990, a sort of religious panto- 
 mimes and farces, since known by the names of 
 fete des Fons t Fete de /* Ane, Fete des Innocents, 
 &c. in the hopes of weaning the people from 
 the Bacchanalian and calendary rites, and other 
 pagan ceremonies, by the substitution of Christian 
 spectacles. These farces, passing first into Italy,
 
 [ 348 ] 
 
 suggested the composition of mysteries, which from 
 thence found their way into France, and the rest 
 of Europe ; and were every where eagerly adopted 
 by the clergy, who were glad to have in their own 
 hands the direction of a popular amusement, ca- 
 pable of rivalling the scandalous pantomimes and 
 buffooneries hitherto exhibited at fairs by the jug- 
 glers and itinerant minstrels, whom the merchants 
 carried with them for the purpose of attracting 
 customers. 
 
 A sort of miracle play, or mystery, is said to 
 have been acted in England by the monks of the 
 abbey of Dunstable in the eleventh century. This 
 was the famous play of the Death of St Chiharine. 
 At this time, the only persons who could read 
 were ecclesiastics ; but, as learning increased, the 
 practice of acting these plays migrated from the 
 monasteries to the universities, which were formed 
 on a monastic plan, and in many respects resem- 
 bled the ecclesiastical bodies. In the statutes of 
 Trinity-hall, Cambridge, an Imperator, orprefectus 
 ludorum (master of the revels) is ordered to be 
 appointed, for the purpose of superintending the 
 amusements and plays at Christmas ; and a Christ- 
 mas-prince, or lord of misrule, corresponding to 
 the Imperator at Cambridge, was a common tem- 
 porary magistrate at Oxford.
 
 [ 349 ] 
 
 The same practice was afterwards introduced 
 into our schools, and from hence into the com- 
 panies of singing-boys in the choirs, and the law 
 societies. All Lylie's plays, and many of Jonson'a 
 and Shakspeare's, were acted by the children of 
 the Chapel-royal, assisted by those of St Paul's. 
 " Ferrex and Porrex" was acted in 1561, by the 
 gentlemen of the Inner Temple, and Gascoigne's 
 " Supposes" in 1566, by those of Gray's-inn. 
 
 It may be proper to observe, that this sketch, 
 though possibly correct in general, is by no means 
 so in respect to France ; for it appears, that a 
 regular company of players was established at 
 Paris by a reglement of Charles VI. in December 
 1 4-02, under the title of Les Confreres de la Passion. 
 It is said to have been founded by a set of pilgrims 
 returning from the Holy Land, who used to assem- 
 ble in the public squares to chant, in several parts, 
 the miracles of the Virgin. This company was 
 succeeded, during the same reign, by a new one, 
 composed of lawyers' clerks belonging to the Par- 
 lement and the Chatelet, under the direction of a 
 manager, who called himself le Prince des Sots, 
 and began to exhibit a new and burlesque species 
 of entertainments, which, under the successive 
 names of Softies, Pois-pUes, and lastly Farcff, 
 
 continued in fashion till the time of Moliere. 
 o
 
 . [ 350 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Reign of Henry VI. Hugh de Campeden. 
 Thomas Chestre. Scotish Poets. Clerk of 
 Tranent. Holland. Henry the Minstrel. 
 Reigns of Edward IV. and V. Hard- 
 ing. Scogan. Norton. Ripley. Lady 
 Juliana Berners. William of Nass'yngton. 
 Lord Rivers. Scotish Poets Robert 
 Henrysoun. Patrick Johnstoun and Mer- 
 sar. 
 
 JL HE only poets who can be assigned, with any 
 certainty, to the reign of Henry VI., are HUGH 
 DE CAMPEDEN and THOMAS CHE STUB, both of 
 whom are only known to us as translators ; the 
 former having turned into English verse the ro- 
 mance of Sidrac, and the latter the Lay ofLamal, 
 composed, or rather paraphrased, from the Breton 
 original, by Mademoiselle Marie, a French poetess 
 of the twelfth century. 
 
 The romance of Sidrac* is represented by Mr 
 Warton as a compendium of Arabian philosophy, 
 
 * " The history of kyog Boccus and Sydracke," &c. 
 London, printed by Godfray, 1510, 4to. Mr Ritson (Bibl. 
 Poet.) says that MS. copies are not uncommon. There is 
 one in the Bodleian, and another in the British Museum*
 
 C 351 ] 
 
 rather than a fable of chivalry ; and Campeden's 
 translation as exhibiting " no sort of elegance in 
 " the diction, nor harmony in the versification." 
 Chestre's work, on the contrary, besides being 
 very fanciful and entertaining, appears to be writ- 
 ten by an experienced versifier ; because the six- 
 lined stanza, in which it is composed, has not in 
 any degree fettered his expression, which is very 
 generally natural and easy as well as picturesque. 
 It is unnecessary, however, to give any extract 
 from this poem, as it has been very lately submitted 
 to the public in the Appendix to Mr Way's trans- 
 lation of the Fabliaux (Faulder, 1800).* Mr War- 
 ton suspects, that the Earl of Thoulouse, a metrical 
 romance, of which he has given the analysis (Hist. 
 Eng. P. vol. II. p. 103,) may also have been trans- 
 lated by Chestre : but Mr Ritson, who has printed 
 it in his collection, is of a different opinion. 
 
 The dearth of names in our poetical catalogue 
 towards the middle of the fifteenth century is not 
 a proof that the art of poetry was at this time 
 very little cultivated. The contrary, indeed, is 
 most probably true; because many of the old 
 ballads preserved in Percy's Reliques of Ancient 
 English Poetry, several of the metrical romances, 
 of which a iarge collection still remains in manu- 
 
 It may now be read to the utmost advantage in Mr 
 Kit son's collection of Ancient English Romances, where it 
 U printed (no doubt) with scrupulous fidelity
 
 [ 352 ] 
 
 script in our public libraries, and the greater part 
 of the fabulous stories of Robin Hood, as well as the 
 tales of Gamelyn and of Beryn, so long attributed 
 to Chaucer, appear to belong to this period. But 
 though Henry VI. was likely to be the patron of 
 a talent to which he had himself some pretensions, 1 
 the general despondence and discontent which 
 
 1 In the Nug.-c Antiques the following wretched lines are 
 ascribed to this wretched prince : 
 Kingdoms are but cares ; 
 State is devoid of stay ; 
 Riches are ready snares, 
 And hasten to decay. 
 
 Pleasure is a privy prick 
 
 Which vice doth still provoke ; 
 
 Pomp unprompt ; and fame a flame ; 
 Power a smouldering smoke. 
 
 Who meaneth to remove the rock 
 
 Out of the slimy mud, 
 Shall mire himself, and hardly scape 
 
 The swelling of the flood. 
 
 This " prettie verse," as Sir John Harington calls it, 
 must have been known to Baldwin, the first compiler of the 
 Mirror for Magistrates, who, in bis' Tragedy of King Henry 
 VI., puts the following reflection (being the royal language, 
 it appears, almost verbatim) into the mouth of that unfor- 
 tunate monarch : 
 
 " Our kingdoms are but cares, our state devoid of stay, 
 " Our riches ready snares, to hasten our decay : 
 " Our pleasures privy pricks, our vices to provoke* 
 " Our pomp a pump, our fame a flame, our power a 
 
 smouldiing smoke." 
 
 For the ingenious comparison of pomp to a pump Bald- 
 win, and not poor King Henry, must be answerable.
 
 C a/a 3 
 
 prevailed during a great part of his reign could not 
 but discourage men of rank and learning from em- 
 ploying their leisure in works of imagination. 
 
 In Scotland, on the contrary, the progress of 
 poetry seems to have been uninterrupted ; for 
 Dunbar has enumerated no less than eighteen dis- 
 tinguished " makers,'* many of whom must have 
 flourished as early as the middle of the fifteenth 
 century. One of these, CLERK OF TRANENT, is 
 celebrated as the author of the Adventures of Sir 
 Gaivain, a romance, of which two cantos appear to 
 be preserved. They are written in stanzas of thir- 
 teen lines, with alternate rhymes, and much alli- 
 teration ; and in a language so very obsolete as to be 
 often quite unintelligible. There is, however, a sort 
 of wildness in the narrative which is very striking. 
 (Vide Pinkerton's Scotish Poems, 3 vols. 1792.) 
 
 Another Scotish Poet, of the name of HOL- 
 LAND, has left an allegorical satire, called The 
 Hovlat (the Owl,) composed in the same metre 
 with the preceding, and in language equally ob- 
 scure, but far less beautiful. Mr Warton seems to 
 have proved that it was written before 1455. (See 
 the same collection.) 
 
 But the most interesting composition of this pe- 
 riod is the celebrated metrical History of Sir Wil- 
 liam, Wallace, written by a poet whose surname is 
 not known, but who is distinguished by the fami- 
 
 TOL. I. 7.
 
 liar appellations of HENRY THE MINSTREL and 
 BUND HARRY. * The date of his book," accord- 
 ing to the account prefixed to the edition printed 
 at Perth, 1790, " and consequently the age in 
 " which he lived may be exactly ascertained. In 
 " the time of my infancy," says Major, " Henry, 
 " taho toas Hind from his birth, composed a book 
 " consisting entirely of the Achievements of WUf 
 " Ham Wallace" Major was born at North Ber- 
 " wick, in East Lothian, in 144-6. It was, there- 
 " fore, about the year 1446, that Henry wrote, or 
 " made public, his entire history of Wallace." 
 From the same account it appears that he was a 
 kind of itinerant minstrel, and that " by reciting 
 " his histories before princes or great men, he 
 " gained his food and raiment, of which," says 
 Major very justly, " he was worthy." 
 
 That a man born blind should excel in any sci- 
 ence is sufficiently extraordinary, though by no 
 means without example ; but that he should be- 
 come an excellent poet is almost miraculous ; be- 
 cause the soul of poetry is description. Perhaps, 
 therefore, it may be easily assumed, that Henry 
 was not inferior in point of genius either to Bar- 
 bour or Chaucer, nor indeed to any poet of any 
 age or country : but it is our present business to 
 estimate the merit of the work rather than the 
 genius of the author.
 
 [ 355 ] 
 
 The similarity of the subject will naturally induce 
 every reader to compare the life of Wallace with 
 Barbour's life of Bruce : and on such a compa- 
 rison, it will probably be found that Henry excels 
 his competitor in correctness of versification, and, 
 perhaps, in perspicuity of language (for both of 
 which he was indebted to the gradual improvements 
 which had taken place during near a century) ; 
 but that in every other particular he is greatly in- 
 ferior to his predecessor. Though Henry did not 
 invent what he relates, but probably employed 
 such materials as he believed to be authentic ; and 
 though this may serve as a general excuse for many 
 exaggerations and false facts, and, among the rest, 
 for his carrying Wallace, at the head of a victorious 
 army, to dictate a peace at St Albans ; yet, to re- 
 present the fierce and politic Edward I. trembling 
 for his safety in the Tower of London, weeping 
 over the body of his nephew, and sending his queen 
 to supplicate for a disgraceful peace, it to con- 
 found all our ideas of historical characters, and to 
 disgust the reader with useless improbability. 
 
 The Bruce is evidently the work of a politician 
 as well as poet. The characters of a king, of his 
 brother, of Douglas, and of the Earl of Moray, 
 are discriminated, and their separate talents always 
 employed with judgment ; so that every event is 
 prepared and rendered probable by the means to
 
 C 656 ] 
 
 which it is attributed : whereas the life of Wallace 
 is a mere romance, in which the hero hews down 
 whole squadrons with his single arm, and is in- 
 debted for every victory to his own muscular 
 strength. Both poems are filled with descriptions 
 of battles ; but in those of Barbour our attention is 
 successively directed to the cool intrepidity of 
 King Robert, to the brilliant rashness of Edward 
 Bruce, or to the enterprising stratagems of Doug- 
 las: while in Henry we find little more than a 
 disgusting picture of revenge, hatred, and blood. 
 Still, however, it must be confessed that the life 
 of Wallace is a work of very great poetical merit. 
 The following extracts are chosen as specimens of 
 our author's style in different kinds of description : 
 the first representing a visionary spectre seen by 
 Wallace soon after he had put to death one of his 
 own partisans, (of the name of Fawdoun,) whom 
 he suspected of treachery. The scene is a soli- 
 tary castle, called Gask Hall, at which Wallace 
 arrived with a few partisans, after a very distress- 
 ing retreat. 
 
 In the Gask Hall their lodging have they taen ; 
 Fire gat they soon, but meat than had they 
 Two. sheep they took beside them off a fold ; 
 Ordain'd to sup into that seemly hold,
 
 C 357 ] 
 
 Graithit * in haste some food for them to dight : 
 So heard they blew rude hornis upon height. 
 Twa sent he forth to look what it might be ; 
 They 'bade right long, and no tidings heard he, 
 But boustous * noise so brynity 3 blew 4 and fast. 
 So other twa into the wood forth past. 
 None come again ; but boustously can blmv : 
 Into great ire he sent them forth on raw. s 
 When he 6 alane Wallace was leavyt there, 
 The awful blast aboundyt mickle mair : 
 Than trevoit 7 he weill they 8 had his lodging seen, 
 His sword he drew of noble metal keen, 
 Syne forth he went where that he heard the horn. 
 Without the door Fawdoun was him beforn, 
 (As till his sight) his awn head in his hand. 
 A cross he made, when he saw him so stand. 
 At Wallace in the head he swaket yare, 9 
 And he in haste soon hijnt * [it] by the hair, 
 Syne out at him again he couth it cast, 
 IntiU his heart he was greatly aghast, 
 
 1 Made ready. 
 
 * Huge, boisterous ? It seems to come from the Goth, 
 tusa, " cum impetu fcrri. 1 ' Vid. Ihre Gloss. 
 
 * Fiercely. Kuddiraan's Gloss. 4 So MS. Ed. 1790, blow. 
 -In a row, altogether. The edit. 1685 has in row. 
 
 6 So MS. Ed. 1790, that. 7 Believed. 
 
 i. e. the enemy. 9 Threw suddenly. I0 Seized.
 
 [ 358 ] 
 
 Right toeill he trowit that was na spreit of man ; 
 It was some devil that sic malice began ; 
 He wist na tceill there longer for to bide : 
 Up through the hall thus wycht x Wallace can glide 
 To a close stair the boardis raiff* in twin : 
 Fifteen foot large he lap out of that inn. 
 Up the water suddenly he couth fare ; 
 Again he blent 3 what 'perance he saw there ; 
 He thought he saw Fawdoun, that ugly sire, 
 That haill* hall he had set in a fire ; s 
 A great rafter he had intill his hand ; 
 Wallace as than no langer would he stand. 
 Of his good men full great mervail had he, 
 How they were tynt 6 through hisfeyle 7 fantasy. 
 Trust right well that all this was sooth indeed ; 
 Suppose that it no point be of the creed. 
 ******* 
 
 By sic mischief giff his men might be lost, 
 Drownyt, or slain among the Inglis 8 host, 
 Or what it was in likeness of Fawdoun, 
 
 1 Bold. * Split, were riven. 
 
 3 Looked. In the edit. 1685, it is blenked. 
 + Whole. 
 
 5 " Upon the house, and all the rest on fire." Edit. 1685. 
 
 6 Lost. 
 
 7 Probably the same as /ey, fatal. (Rudd. Gl.) 
 * English.
 
 [ 359 ] 
 
 Which brought his men to sudden confiisioun, 
 
 ****## * 
 
 I cannot speak of sic divinity, &c. 
 
 (Book V. ver. 175, &c.) 
 
 The following incident is of a less terrific nature. 
 Wallace had a mistress at Perth, whom he visited 
 in the disguise of a priest; but he was accidentally 
 discovered, and his mistress seized, and prevailed 
 on by threats and promises to betray her gallant 
 admirer. When every preparation lias been made 
 to surprise him 
 
 he entryt * in the town 
 
 Wit land no thing of all this false treasoun, 
 
 TUl her chamber he went but mair abaid. * 
 
 She welcom'd him, and full great pleasance made. 
 
 What that they wrought I cannot graithly 3 say ; 
 
 Right unperfyt I am of Venus' play : 
 
 But hastily he graithit * him to gang. 
 
 Than she him took, and speir'dgiffhe thought long? 
 
 She askyt him that night with her to bide : 
 
 Soon he said, " Nay ! for chance that may betide ! 
 
 " My men are left all at mis-rule for me ; 
 
 1 Entered. a Without more abode, i. e. delay. 
 
 3 Readily. * Made ready, prepared. 
 
 5 Asked if he thought tbe time long, i. e, if he was tired. 
 8
 
 " I may not sleep this night 'while I them see !" 
 
 Than weepyt she, and said full oft, " Alas ! 
 
 " That I was made ! iua worth the cursyt cause ! 
 
 " Now have I lost the best man livand is : 
 
 " O feeble mind, to do sa foul amiss ! 
 
 " O luaryit x wit, wicked, and variance. 
 
 " That me has brought into this myschefull chance ! 
 
 " Alas," she said, " in world that I was wrought ! 
 
 " Gyjf&\\ this 1 pain on myself might be brought ! 
 
 " J have 'sercit to be brynt in a gleid" 3 
 
 When Wallace saw she ner qfioitt couth iueid t 4 
 In his armis he caught her soberly, 
 And said,"Dear heart, ivha has mis-done aught? I?" 
 " Nay, I," quoth she, "has falsely wrought this train, 
 " I have you sold ! right now ye will be slain !" 
 She told him of her treason till an end 
 As I have said ; what needis mair legend ? 
 At s her he speir'dgiff'shejbrthought 6 it sare : 
 " Wa ! yea," she said, " and shall do evermare ! 
 " My luaryed tverd'' in world I mon 8 fulfill : 
 " To mend this 'miss I would burn on a hill !" 
 
 1 Cursed. (Werian. Sax.) * So MS. Ed. 1790. his. 
 
 3 "Deserved to be burnt in a coal fire. 
 
 4 She could not imagine any contrivance ? 
 
 5 0/her he asked, &c. 6 Repented. 
 7 Destiny. 8 Must. 
 
 6
 
 [ 361 ] 
 
 He comfort her, and bade her have no dreid ; 
 <* I will," he said, " have some part of thy tueid." l 
 Her gown he took on him, and courches * als : 
 " Will God I shall escape this treason false, 
 " I thee forgive !'* withoutyn wordis mair, 
 His kissyt her, syne took his leave to fare. 
 His burly 3 brand that help'd him oil in need, 
 Right privily he hid it under that weid* * 
 To the south gate the gaynest * way he drew, 
 Where that he found of armyt men eneu). 6 
 To them he told, dissemblyt countenance, 
 " To the chamber, where he was upon chance, 
 " Speed fast !" he said " Wallace is lockyt in !" 
 Fra him they sought withoutyn noise or din, 
 To that same house ; about they can them cast. 
 Out at the gate than Wallace gat full fast, 
 Right glad in heart when that he was without, 
 Right fast he yeide, 7 a st<mr pace, and a stout. 
 Two him beheld, and said, " We will go see ! 
 " A stalwart 8 quean, forsooth, yon seems to be." 
 Him they followit, &c. 
 
 (Book IV. ver. 731, &c.) 
 
 The abruptness of this author's manner has very 
 
 1 Dress. * Kerchief, from couvrechef. FT. that which 
 covers tlie head. 3 Shakspeare uses the word for huge ; 
 
 but it seems to be derived from the Old French word bouira 
 (bourrer, frapper,) to strike. La Combe. 4 Clothing. 
 
 s Readiest. 6 Enough. 7 Went. 8 Bold.
 
 [ 362 ] 
 
 often a dramatic effect, and gives considerable life 
 and spirit to his narrative, which, on account of 
 his blindness, he was unable to diversify with those 
 beautiful pieces of picturesque description in which 
 the Scotish poets in general have so particularly 
 excelled. The relation of Wallace's fishing adven- 
 ture in the first book ; that of his engagement with 
 the " red reiffar" (rover), in the ninth; and seve- 
 ral smaller incidents, dispersed through the work, 
 are sketched with singular ability, and prove that 
 Henry was a great master of his art, and that he 
 deserved the popularity which he acquired among 
 his countrymen, and which he continues to retain, 
 after the lapse of more than three centuries. 
 
 Of the almost numberless editions of this work, 
 the most elegant, and apparently the most correct, 
 is that of Perth, 1 790, in three small volumes, which 
 professes to be exactly copied from the MS. in the 
 Advocates' library at Edinburgh. 
 
 The only poets who occur in the reign of Ed- 
 ward IV. are, JOHN HARDING, whose chronicle is 
 beneath criticism in point of composition, and can 
 only be an object of curiosity to the antiquary : 
 JOHN SCOGAN, whose pretended jests were pub- 
 lished by Andrew Borde, a mad physician in the 
 court of Henry VIIL, and JOHN NORTON and 
 GEORGE RIPLEY, whose didactic poems on the sub- 
 ject of alchymy are preserved, together with much
 
 [ 363 ] 
 
 other trash, in the strange fart-ago edited by Ash- 
 mole, under the title of " Theatrum Chemicum." 
 But the greatest literary curiosity of this reign 
 is the work of the Lady JULIANA, sister to Richard 
 Lord BERNERS, and prioress of the nunnery of 
 Sopewell, which was written in 14-81, and publish- 
 ed soon after at the neighbouring monastery at St 
 Albans. It contains treatises on hawking, hunting, 
 and heraldry : in all of which the good lady seems 
 to have rivalled the most eminent professors of those 
 arts. A second edition, which was printed at Lon- 
 don by Wynkyn de Worde, in 1 4i>6, contains an 
 additional treatise on the art of angling ; as also a 
 sort of lyrical epilogue to the book of hunting, 
 which is not entirely devoid of merit. In the third 
 edition (printed partly by Robert Toy, and partly 
 for him by William Copland), the treatise on he- 
 raldry is wanting ; but the epilogue is preserved. 
 It is as follows : 
 
 To have a faithful friend.* 
 A faithful friend would I fain find, 
 
 To find him there he might be found ; 
 But now is the world wext so unkind, 
 
 That friendship is fall to the ground. 
 
 THS title is from Toy'i ed.W. de Worde's, from 
 which the text is given, has none.
 
 [ 364 ] 
 
 Now, a friend I have found, 
 That I will neither ban * ne curse ; 
 
 But, of all friends in field or town, 
 Ever gramercy mine own purse. 
 
 My purse it is my privy wife : 
 
 (This song I dare both sing and say :} 
 It parteth men of muche strife, 
 
 When every man for himself shall pay. 
 As I ride in rich array 
 
 For gold and silver men will me flourish 
 By this matter I dare well say 
 
 Ever gramercy mine own purse. 
 
 As I ride with gold so rede, 
 
 And have to do with landys law, 
 Men for my money will make me speed, 
 
 And for my goods they will me knatue : 
 More and less to me will draw, 
 
 Both the better and the worse : 
 By this matter I say in sawe 3 
 
 Ever gramercy mine own purse. 
 
 It fell by me upon a time, 
 
 As it hath doo by many one mo, 
 
 * Execrate. 
 
 a Probably fatter; but the rhyme is indefensible* 
 
 * Proverbially.
 
 [ 365 ] 
 
 My horse, my neat, my sheep, my swine, 
 And all my goods they fell me fro : 
 
 I went to my friends and told them so ; 
 And home again they bade me truss : 
 
 I said again, when I was wo, 
 Ever gramercy mine own purse. 
 
 Therefore I rede you, sires all, 
 
 To assay your friends or ye have need : 
 For, and ye come down and have a fall, 
 
 Full few of them for you will grede.* 
 Therefore, assay them every one, 
 
 Both the better and the worse. 
 Our Lord, that shope both sun and moon, 
 
 Send us spending in our purse ! 
 
 The treatise on hunting, though written in rhyme, 
 has no resemblance to poetry : the other parts of 
 the work are professedly written in prose. 
 
 Mr Warton notices, as contemporary with dame 
 Juliana, WILLIAM OF NASSYNGTON, a proctor in 
 the ecclesiastical court of York, who translated, in 
 1480, into English verse, a Latin essay on the Tri- 
 nity, written by John of IValdenby, an Augustine 
 friar of Yorkshire. About the same time was pub- 
 lished an anonymous work, called THE CALEN- 
 DAR OF SHEPHERDS, translated from the " Calen- 
 1 Cry, lament.
 
 [ 366 ] 
 
 drier des Bergers." It is a sort of perpetual alma- 
 nack, consisting of mingled prose and verse, and 
 containing, like many of our modern almanacks, 
 a vast variety of heterogeneous matter. 
 
 A ballad written by ANTHONY WIDVILLE or 
 WOODVYLLE, EARL OF RIVERS, during his con- 
 finement in Pontefract Castle (vide Percy's Re- 
 liques, vol. II. p. 44, last edit, or Ritson's An- 
 cient Songs, p. 87), completes the catalogue of 
 English poetry for this period. 
 
 Among the minor poets of Scotland, at this timC| 
 the most conspicuous, perhaps, is ROBERT HENRY- 
 SOUN, of whose life, however, no anecdotes are 
 preserved, except that, according to Sir Francis 
 Kinaston, his Latin translator, he was a school- . 
 master at Dunfermling. His Testament and Com- 
 plaint of Cresseide are to be found in Urry's edi- 
 tion of Chaucer, and several of his poems are in- 
 serted in Lord Hailes's extracts from the Banna- 
 tyne MS. Among the best of these is the popular 
 ballad of Robene and MaTcyne ; but the most sin- 
 gular is the following, which is called 
 The Garment of good Ladies. 
 
 Would my good lady love me best, 
 And work after my will, 
 
 I should a garment goodliest 
 Gar make her body t ill. 
 
 1 Cause to be made to her shape.
 
 C 367 ] 
 
 Of high honour should be her hood, 
 
 Upon her head to wear, 
 Garnish'd with governance, so good 
 
 Na deeming should her deir. * 
 
 Her sark * should be her body next, 
 
 Of chastity so white ; 
 With shame and dread together mixt, 
 
 The same should be perfyt. 3 
 
 Her kirtle should be of clean Constance, 
 
 Lacit with lesum * love ; 
 The mailyeis s of continuance, 
 
 For never to remove. 
 
 Her gown should be of goodliness, 
 
 Well ribbon'd with renown ; 
 PurfilPd 6 with pleasure in ilk place, 
 
 Furrit with fine fashioun. 
 
 Her belt should be of benignity, 
 About her middle meet ; 
 
 1 No opinions should dismay her; i. . she should have 
 no cause to fear censure. 
 * Shift. 3 Perfect. 4 Loyal. 
 
 5 Net-work, Fr. ; here it means the eyelet-holes for la- 
 cing her kirtle. 
 
 6 Parfile, Fr. ; fringed, or bordered. 7 Each.
 
 I 368 ] 
 
 Her mantle of humility, 
 To tholl 1 both wind and tueit.* 
 
 Her hat should be of fair having, 
 
 And her tippet of truth ; 
 Her patelet of good pansing, 3 
 
 Her hols-ribbon of ruth.* 
 
 Her sleeves should be of esperance, 
 
 To keep her/ra despair : 
 Her glovis of s good governance, 
 
 To hide her fingers fair. 
 
 Her shoen should be of sickernesse, 6 
 In sign that she not slide ; 
 
 Her hose of honesty, I guess, 
 I should for her provide. 
 
 Would she put on this garment gay, 
 I durst swear by my seill, * 
 
 That she wore never green nor gray 
 That set* her half so 
 
 Lord Hailes, in his notes on this poem, which 
 he supposes to be " a sort of paraphrase of 1 Tim. 
 
 1 Suffer. a Wet. 3 Thinking. I do not understand 
 the word patelet (patellette. Fr.) unless it mean lappet. 
 
 4 Her neck-ribbon of pity. s So the MS. Lord Hailea 
 inserts the inaccurately. 6 Security, steadiness. 
 
 7 Felicity. Became. 9 Well.
 
 [ 369 ] 
 
 M ii. 9 11," observes very justly, that the com- 
 parison between female ornaments and female vir- 
 tues is carried so far as to become " somewhat 
 ridiculous." But this strange conversion of the 
 virtues into the stock in trade of an allegorical 
 mantua-maker was first conceived by Olivier de la 
 Marche, who, in a poem intitled " Le parement et 
 " triomphe des dames d' honneur," recommends 
 to the ladies slippers of humility, shoes of diligence, 
 stockings of perseverance, garters of" ferme pro- 
 pos," (i. e. determination,) a petticoat of chastity, 
 a pin-cushion of patience, &c. 
 
 Such was the taste of the age : but the following 
 fine moral poem, the next in the same collection, 
 will shew that Henrysoun's talents were fitted for 
 a better employment than that of imitating Olivier 
 de la Marche. 
 
 The Abbey Walk. 
 
 i. 
 
 Alone as I went up and down 
 In an abbey was fair to see, 
 
 * Lord Hailes gave this title to the succeeding poem from 
 ne mentioned in '' the Complaint of Scotland." He adds, 
 " If the study of Scoiish history should ever revive, a new 
 " edition of Inglis't Complaint would be an acceptable pre- 
 " sent to the public." For this acceptable present we are in- 
 debted to the ingenious Mr Leydeo of Ldinburgh, who has 
 lately reprinted the very curious work in question with the 
 most scrupulous fidelity, and added a preliminary disserta- 
 tion and glossary, abounding with antiquarian learning. 
 
 VOL. I. 2 A
 
 [ 370 ] 
 
 Thinkand what consolation 
 
 Was best into adversity ; 
 On case T I cast on side mine ee, * 
 
 And saw this written upon 3 a wall : 
 " Of what estate, man, that thou be, 
 
 " Obey, and thank thy God of 4 all"!" 
 
 n. 
 
 Thy kingdom, and thy great empire, 
 
 Thy royalty, nor rich array, 
 Shall nought endure at thy desire, 
 
 But, as the wind, will wend away. 
 Thy gold, and all thy goodis gay, 
 
 When fortune list, vfiMfra thee fall : 
 Sen thou sic s samples sees ilk day, 
 
 Obey, and thank thy God of all ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Though thou be blind, or have an halt, 
 
 Or in thy face deformit ill, 
 Sa it come not through thy default, 
 
 Na man should thee repreif 6 by skill. 
 Blame not thy Lord, sa is his will ! 
 
 Spurn not thy foot against the wall ; 
 But with meek heart, and prayer still, 
 
 Obey, and thank thy God of all. 
 
 1 By chance. * Eye. 3 So MS. not on. 
 
 * For. 5 Such. 6 Reprove,
 
 [ 371 ] 
 
 God, of his justice, won ' correct ; 
 
 And, of his mercy, pity have ; 
 He is one judge, to none suspect, 
 
 To punish sinful man and save. 
 Though thou be lord attour the laif t * 
 
 And afterward made bound and thrall, 
 Ane poor beggar, with scrip and staiff* 
 
 Obey, and thank thy God of all. 
 
 VI. 
 
 This changing, and great variance 
 
 Of earthly statis, up and down, 
 ts not but * casualty and chance, 
 
 (As some men say is without ressffum) s 
 But by the great provisioun 
 
 Of God above, that rule thee shall ! 
 Therefore, ever thou make thee boun 6 
 
 To obey, and thank thy God of all. 
 
 VII. 
 
 In wealth be meek, heich 7 not thyself; 
 
 Be glad in wilful poverty ; 
 Thy power, and thy worldis pelf, 
 
 Is nought but very vanity. 
 
 ' Must. l Above the rest : literally, betide the rest. Fr. 
 3 Staff. * Only. * Reason. 
 
 ' Ready. r Exalt.
 
 [ 372 3 
 
 Remember, him * that died on ire * 
 For thy sake tastit the bitter gall : 
 
 Who. heis 3 low hearts, and latoeis he, 4 
 Obey ; and thank thy God of all ! 
 
 (P. 105.) 
 
 PATRICK JOHNSTOUN is only known to us by a 
 single specimen of 64 lines, printed in Lord Hailes's 
 collection. The following are the most striking 
 stanzas. 
 
 The three dead Fonts. s 
 
 i. 
 O sinful man ! into this mortal se, 6 
 
 Which is the vale of mourning and of care, 
 With gaistly 7 sight behold our headis three, 
 
 Our holkit eyn, our peilit powis bare ! * 
 As ye are now, int9 9 this world we were ; 
 
 Als fresh, als fair, ah lusty to behold. 
 When thou lookis on this sooth exemplair, 
 
 Of thyself, man, thou may be right un-bold. 
 
 in. 
 
 O wanton youth ! als fresh as lusty May, 
 Fairest of 10 flowers renewit white and reid, 
 
 Behold our heads, O lusty gallants gay ! 
 Full earthly " thus shall lie thy lusty heid t 
 
 I He. a On the cross. 3 Exalts. * Lowers high. 
 
 5 Polls, skulls. 6 Seat, residence. 7 Ghastly, or 
 
 mental sight ? 8 Bald, bare skulls. 9 In. 10 With. 
 
 11 So the MS. Lord liailes prints, inaccurately, loathly.
 
 [ 373 ] 
 
 Holkit, and haras, and toaUoioit as the toeed. " 
 Thy crumplind * hair and eke thy chrystal eyn 
 
 Full carefully conclude shall duleful deid ; J 
 Thy example here by us it may be seen. 
 
 IV. 
 
 O ladies, white in claithis 4 cdruscant * 
 
 Polish'd with pearl and many precious static, 
 With palpis white, and hah (es) 6 elegant, 
 
 Circlit with gold and sapphires many one ; 
 Your fingeris small, white as ichalis bane, 7 
 
 Array'd with rings and many rubies reid ; 
 As we lie thus, so shall ye lie ilk one 
 
 With peelit pmvis, and holkit thus your held ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 This question who can absolve, let see, 
 What phisnamour 8 or perfyt palmister, 
 
 1 Holkit and how are nearly synonymous, both meaning 
 hollow, emaciated : wallomt K faded. 
 
 * Curled, like tendril*. Lord Hailes prints crampland, 
 inaccurately. 
 
 3 Mournful death shall put an end to, &c. 
 
 * Clothes. 5 Dazzling. Necks. 
 
 7 This does not mean what we call whalebone, nor indeed 
 any bone, but the tooth or horn of thcnarval, or unicorn-fish, 
 which was employed for many of the purpose* of ivory. 
 
 * Physiognomist.
 
 C 374 ] 
 
 Wha was fairest or foulest of us three ? 
 
 Or which of us of kin was gentiller ? 
 Or maist excellent in science or in lare, 
 
 In art music, or in astronomy ? 
 Here shoulde be your study and repair, 
 
 And think as thus all your headis mon be ! 
 
 (Page 139.) 
 
 ****** 
 
 Another Scotish poet of this period is MERSAR, 
 whose Christian name is not known ; and of whose 
 talents the following small poem, extracted from 
 Lord Hailes's collection, affords the only specimen : 
 
 Peril in Paramours. 
 
 i. 
 
 Alas ! so sober 4 is the might 
 
 Of women for to make debate 
 In contrair mennis subtle slight, 
 
 Which are fulfillit with dissait ; * 
 With treason so intoxicate 
 
 Are mennis mouthis at all hours, 
 Whom in to trust no woman wait, 3 
 
 Sic peril lies in paramours ! 
 
 1 Small, weak. a Deceit. 3 Knows.
 
 C 375 ] 
 
 n. 
 
 Some swearis that he loves so ivetil 
 
 That he will die without remeid, 
 But gife that he her friendship feel 
 
 That garris x him sic languor lead : 
 And though he have no doubt of speed, 
 
 Yet will he sigh and show great showers, 
 As he would sterf'e into that steid ! J 
 
 Sic peril lies in paramours ! 
 
 in. 
 Athis 3 to swear, and gifts to hecht, 4 
 
 (More than he has thirty fold ! ) 
 And for her honour for to fecht, 
 
 While that his blood becomis cold ! 
 But fi /rfl she to his ivillis yold, 
 
 Adieu, farewell thir summer flowers ! 
 All grows in glass that seem it gold : s 
 
 Sic peril lies in paramours ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Than turnis he his sail anon, 
 And passes to another port ; 
 
 1 Causes. * Die in that place. 3 Oaths. * Promise. 
 
 ' The substitution of glass for silver or golden drinking 
 vessels suggested this proverbial phrase, which is not un- 
 common amongst our early poets.
 
 C 376 ] 
 
 Though she be never so wo-begone, 
 
 Her caris cold are his comfort. 
 Herefore I pray in termys short, 
 
 Christ keep these birdis bright in bowers * 
 Fra false lovers, and their resort ! 
 
 Sic peril lies in paramours ! 
 
 (P. 156.) 
 
 1 It has been already observed that the expression birds 
 (i. e. brides) bright in bowers was a poetical circumlocution 
 for women.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Reign of Henry VII. William Dunbar. 
 Gawin Douglas. Minor Poets of the Reign 
 Stephen Hawes. 
 
 W ILLIAM DUNBAR, the greatest poet that Scot- 
 land has produced, was born about the year 1465, 
 at Salton, in East Lothian, and became a travel- 
 ling novice of the Franciscan order, in which cha- 
 racter he visited several parts of England and 
 France ; but, disliking this mode of life, he return- 
 ed to Scotland, where he died in old age about 
 1530. " In his younger years," says Mr Pinker- 
 ton, " he seems to have had great expectations 
 " that his merit would have recommended him to 
 " an ecclesiastical benefice, and frequently in his 
 " small poems addresses the king to that purpose, 
 " but apparently without success. I have in vain 
 " looked over many calendars of charters, &c. of 
 " his period, to find Dunbar's name ; but suspect 
 " that it was never written by a lawyer." 
 
 Mr Warton, who has bestowed great commen- 
 dations on Dunbar, observes that his genius is pe- 
 culiarly " of a moral and didactic cast ;" and it is 
 certainly in such pieces that he is most confessedly
 
 [ 378 ] 
 
 superior to all who preceded, and to nearly all 
 who have followed him ; but his satires, his allego- 
 rical and descriptive poetry, and his tales, are all 
 admirable, and full of fancy and originality. 
 
 The following specimen, which was apparently 
 written in his youth, since it is stated to have been 
 composed at Oxford, during his travels in England, 
 is strongly marked by that turn of mind which is 
 attributed to him by Mr Warton. 
 
 Lair is vain ivithout Governance. * 
 
 To speak of science, craft, or sapience, 
 
 Of virtue, moral cunning, z or doctrine ; 
 Of truth, of wisdom, or intelligence; 
 
 Of every study, lair, or discipline ; 
 All is but tynt, 3 or ready for to tyne y 4 
 
 Not using it as it should usit be, 
 The craft exercing, s achieving 6 not the fine : 
 
 A perilous sickness is vain prosperity ! 
 
 The curious probation logical ; 
 
 The eloquence of ornate rhetoric ; 
 The natural science philosophical ; 
 
 The dark appearance of astronomy ; 
 
 * Learning is vain without good conduct. z Knowledge. 
 3 Lost. * Lose. 5 Exercising. 
 
 6 So I venture to print it. Mr P. gives eschewing.
 
 [ 379 ] 
 
 The theologue's sermon ; the fable of poetry ; 
 
 Without good life all in the salf does de, * 
 As Mayis flowers does in September dry : 
 
 A perilous life is vain prosperity ! 
 
 Wherefore, ye clerkis, greatest of Constance, 
 
 Fullest of science and of knowledging, 
 To us be mirrors in your governance ! 
 
 And in our darkness be lamps of seeing! 
 Or than in vain is all your long lering! * 
 
 Gyfto your saws your deedis contrair be, 
 Your maist 3 accuser is your own cunning : 
 
 A perilous sickness is vain prosperity. 
 
 [Pinkerton's Anc. Scot. Poems, p. 106.] 
 
 The following is still more beautiful : 
 Meditation written in Winter. 
 
 i. 
 
 Into thir 4 dark and drtiblie J days, 
 When sable all the heaven arrays, 
 When misty vapours clouds the skies, 
 
 1 I do not understand the word talf ; perhaps it is it If. 
 Ruddiman observes, that (. Douglas, and other authors of- 
 that time, constantly wrote Ihr self for itself. 
 
 * Learning. " Most, greatest. 
 
 4 In these. * Troubled. (I'inkcrton's Glossary.) 
 
 6
 
 [ 380 ] 
 
 Nature all courage me denies 
 Of song, balladis, and of plays. 
 
 n. 
 
 When that the night does lengthen hours, 
 With wind, with hail, and heavy showers, 
 My dule spreit x does lurk for schoir ; * 
 My heart for languor does 3 forloir, 4 
 For lack of Summer with his flowers. 
 
 in. 
 
 I wake, I turn ; sleep may I nought ; 
 
 I vexed am with heavy thought ; 
 This world all o'er I cast about : 
 And aye the mair I am in doubt, 
 
 The mair that I remeid have sought. 
 
 IV. 
 
 I am assay'd on every side. 
 
 Despair says aye, *' In time provide, 
 " And get something whereon to leif; 3 
 " Or, with great trouble and mischief, 
 
 " Thou shall into this court abide." 
 
 1 Mournful spirit. 
 
 'Terror? (Pink. Gloss.) perhaps it may mean/or sure, 
 i. e. certainly. 
 3 Ought it not to be is ? + Forlorn. s Live.
 
 C.881 ] 
 
 v. 
 
 Than Patience says, " Be na aghast ; 
 " Hold hope and truth within thee fast ; 
 
 " And let Fortune work forth her rage ; 
 
 " When that no reason may assuage, 
 " While that her glass be run and past." 
 
 VI. 
 
 And Prudence in my ear says aye, 
 " Why would you hold what will away ? 
 " Or crave what you may have no space 
 " [To brook, as] to another place 
 " A journey going every day ? 
 
 VII. 
 
 And then says Age, " My friend come near, 
 " And be not strange I thee requeir ; 
 
 " Come brother, by the hand me take ! 
 
 " Remember, thou has 'compt to make 
 " Of all the time thou spendit here !" 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Syne, Deid ' casts up his gatis wide, 
 Saying, " Thir * open shall thee 'bide : 
 
 ' Then Death. 
 
 1 These shall wait for you alwajs open.
 
 [ 382 3 
 
 " Albeit that thou were ne'er so stout, 
 " Under this h'ntel f shall thou lout : * 
 " There is nane other way beside." 
 
 IX. 
 
 For fear of this, all day I droop. 
 
 No gold in Jcist, 3 nor wine in coop, 4 
 No lady's beauty, nor love's bliss, 
 May hit s me to remember this, 
 
 How glad that ever 6 I dine or sup. 
 
 x. 
 
 Yet, when the night begins to short, 
 It does my spreit some part 7 comfort, 
 Of thought oppressit with the showers. 
 Come, lusty Summer, with thy flowers, 
 That I may live in some disport ! 
 
 [Pinkerton, p. 125.] 
 
 It is pleasant to observe in this fine poem the 
 elastic spirit of D unbar struggling against the pres- 
 sure of melancholy : indeed it appears that his mo- 
 rality was of the most cheerful kind. We have 
 
 1 The beam over a door. 
 
 * Bend, stoop, bow. 3 Chest. 
 
 4 In cup ? or barrel ? 5 Prevent. 6 Soever. 
 
 7 In some respects, in some degree.
 
 [ 383 ] 
 
 seen the description of his own feelings, and the 
 following stanzas contain his advice to others. 
 
 No Treasure without Gladness. 
 
 i. 
 Be merry man ! and take not far in mind 
 
 The wavering of this wretchit world of sorow ! 
 To God be humble, and to thy friend be kind, 
 
 And with thy neighbours gladly lend and borrow: 
 His chance to-night, it may be thine to-morrow. 
 
 Be blithe in heart for any aventure ; 
 For oft with wysure l it has been said a/omnc, * 
 
 Without gladness availis no treasure. 
 
 ii. 
 Make thee good cheer of it tliat God thee sends, 
 
 For worldis ivrak 3 but welfare, nought avails : 
 No. good is thine, save only but thou spends; 
 
 Remenant all thnu brookis but with bales. 4 
 Seek to solace when sadness thee assails : 
 
 In dolour lang thy life may not endure ; 
 Wherefore of comfort set up all thy sails : 
 
 Without gladness availis no treasure. 
 
 1 Wisdom. 
 
 1 A-fore, before. 
 
 3 Merchandise, treasure. 
 
 4 Thou canst eujoy all the remainder only with bale, er 
 sorrow.
 
 [ 38* ] 
 
 in. 
 Follow on pity ; ' flee trouble and debate ; 
 
 With famous folkis hold thy company ; 
 Be charitable, and humble in thine estate, 
 
 For worldly honour lastis but a cry ; * 
 For trouble in earth take no melancholy ; 
 
 Be rich in patience, gif thou in goods be poor; 
 Who livis merry, he livis mightily : 
 
 Without gladness avai'is no treasure. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Thou sees thir wretches set with sorrow and care, 
 
 To gather goods in all their livis space ; 
 And, when their bags are full, their selves are bare, 
 
 And of their riches but the keeping has ; 
 While others come to spend it, that has grace, 
 
 Which of thy winning no labour had nor cure. 
 Take thou example, and spend with merriness : 
 
 Without gladness availis no treasure. 
 
 v. 
 Though all the werk 3 that ever had livand wight 
 
 Were only thine, no more thy part does fall 
 But meat, drink, dais, 4 and of the laif s a sight ! 
 
 Yet, to the judge thou shall give 'compt of all. 
 
 1 Originally pity and piety are the same. (Rudd. Gloss.) 
 z No longer than a sound. 3 Possessions. 
 
 * Clothes. * Remainder.
 
 [ 385 ] 
 
 Ane reckoning right comes of one ragment f small. 
 
 Be just, and joyous, and do to none injure, 
 And truth shall make thee strong as any wall ; 
 
 Without gladness availis no treasure. 
 
 (Lord Hailes's Anc. Scot. Poems, p. 54.) 
 
 In these specimens we see much good sense and 
 sound morality, expressed with force and concise- 
 ness. This indeed is Dunbar's peculiar excellence. 
 His style, whether grave or humorous, whether 
 simple or ornamented, is always energetic; and 
 though all his compositions cannot be expected to 
 possess equal merit, we seldom find in them a weak 
 or redundant stanza. 
 
 But his most admired and most truly poetical 
 works are the Thistle and the Rose, and the Golden 
 Targe. 
 
 The first of these was composed for the marriage 
 of James IV. of Scotland, with Margaret, eldest 
 daughter of our Henry VII., an event which is 
 likely to have produced many invocations to the 
 Muses, but which probably was hailed by very few 
 panegyrics so delicate and ingenious as this of 
 Dunbar. In the age of allegory and romance, when 
 a knowledge of heraldry was a necessary accom- 
 plishment, it was natural enough to compliment 
 
 1 Accompt. 
 i. 2 B
 
 [ 386 ] 
 
 the royal bridegroom, under the character of a 
 lion, (part of the arms of Scotland,) or under that 
 of the thistle ; and to describe the bride as the 
 rose, proceeding from the joint stems of York and 
 Lancaster : but it required considerable ingenuity 
 to call into action these heraldic personages. The 
 poet has recourse to a dream, in which he supposes 
 himself accosted by May, who desires him to ce- 
 lebrate in a poem the return of spring. She then 
 introduces him into a delicious garden, to which 
 all organized beings are summoned to appear before 
 the goddess Nature, who crowns the lion, the eagle, 
 and the thistle, as kings of beasts, birds, and plants, 
 recommending at the same time to each many im- 
 portant moral and political maxims. To the pro- 
 tection of the thistle she particularTy consigns the 
 rose, whom she represents as " above the lily" 
 (the house of Valois,) and whom she also invests 
 with a crown, so brilliant as to illumine all the 
 land with its light at which joyful event, an 
 universal song of gratulation from the birds inter- 
 rupts the progress of the poet's vision. 
 
 In this singular but ingenious allegory Dunbar 
 has interwoven a number of rich and glowing de- 
 scriptions, much excellent advice, and many deli- 
 cate compliments, without any fulsome adulation. 
 " The Goldin Terge" is, perhaps, still superior to
 
 [ 387 ) 
 
 the Thistle and Rose ; at least such seems to have 
 been the opinion of Sir David Lindsay, who, in 
 estimating the poetical genius of Dunbar, says, 
 that he 
 
 " language had at large, 
 
 " As may be seen infill his Golden Targe" 
 
 [Compl. of the Papingo, Prol.] 
 
 This poem is a moral allegory, the object of 
 which is to shew the gradual and imperceptible 
 influence of love, which even the golden target 
 of reason cannot always repel. The poet walks 
 out in a vernal morning, which he describes much 
 at large, and in the most glowing language : the 
 second stanza may be taken as a good specimen of 
 his style. 
 
 Full angel-like thir birdis sang their hours * 
 Within their curtains green, within their bowers, 
 
 Apparell'd with white and red, with bloomys sweet. 
 EnamelTd was the field with all colours : 
 The pearlit drops shook as m silver showers, 
 
 While all in balm did branch and leavu < /fcrf. > 
 
 Depart/ra Phrebus did Aurora greii : * 
 Her chrystal tears I saw king on the flowers, 
 
 Which he, for love, all drank up with his heat. 
 [Ld. Hailes's Anc. Sc. P. p. 8.] 
 
 1 Matins, heura. Fr. * Float. Weep.
 
 [ 388 ] 
 After some time 
 
 What through the merry fowlis harmony, 
 And through the river's sound that ran me by, 
 
 On Flora's mantle I sleepit where I lay ; 
 Where soon, unto my dreamis fantasy, 
 I saw approach, again the orient sky, 
 
 Ane sail as blossom [white] upon the spray, 
 
 With mast of gold, bright as the st erne * of day, 
 Which tended to the land full lustily 
 
 [With swiftest motion through a chrystal bay.} 
 
 And, hard on board, into the lilemit * meads, 
 Amangis the green rispis 3 and the reeds, 
 
 Arrivit she ; where-fro anon there lands 
 An hundred ladies, lusty infill weeds, 4 
 Als fresh as flowers that in the May up-spreids, 
 
 In kirtles green, withoutin kell s or bands, 
 
 Their bright hair hang glitterand on the strand, 
 In tresses clear taypit 6 with golden threids, 
 
 VfithpatvpisJ white, and middles small as wands. 
 
 [P. 9] 
 
 These are allegorical ladies, viz. Nature, Venus, 
 Aurora, &c. 
 
 1 Star. 
 
 a Bloomed. 3 Bulrnshes, * Pleasing in their attire. 
 
 5 Cawls, or caps, to confine their hair. 
 
 6 Whipped or tied, or inwoTen. 7 Breast^,
 
 [ 389 ] 
 
 Full lustily thir ladies, all in/Hr, 1 
 Enterit within this park of maist pleseir, 
 
 Where that I lay heilit a with leavis rank : 
 The merry fowlis, blissfullest of cheer, 
 Salust 3 Nature, methought, in their maneir ; 
 
 And every bloom on branch and eke on bank 
 
 Opnit 4 and spread their balmy leavis dank, 
 Full low inclinand to their queen full clear, 
 
 Whom for their noble nourishing they thank. 
 
 The ladies are followed by a male group, con- 
 sisting of Cupid and various other gods, who invite 
 them to dance. The poet, quitting his ambush to 
 view this spectacle, is discovered by Venus, who 
 bids her keen archers arrest the intruder. Her 
 attendants, dropping their green mantles, discover 
 their bows, and advance against him. These assail* 
 ants are Youth, Beauty, &c. whose darts are long 
 ineffectual against the golden targe of Reason, till 
 at length Presence (i. e. the habit of seeing the 
 beloved object) throws a magical powder into the 
 eyes of Reason, and the poet is overpowered by 
 his allegorical adversaries, tempted by Dissimu- 
 lance, terrified by Danger, and delivered over to 
 Heaviness ; after which Eolus blotus a bugle ; o 
 storm arises, and the ladies take to their ship, which 
 
 1 Together. a Covered. 3 Sainted. * Opened,
 
 C 890 ] 
 
 disappears, after a discharge of artillery so loud 
 that the rainbow seemed to break, while the smoke 
 rose to the firmament. This strangely terrible in- 
 cident seems to have been introduced for the pur- 
 pose of contrasting with the beautiful appearance 
 of real nature, to which the poet is awaked. 
 
 Sweet was the vapours, and soft the morrowing, 
 Wholesome the vale depaynit with flowers ying, &c. 
 
 The poem concludes with some laboured compli- 
 ments to Chaucer, Gower, and Lydgate. 
 
 Of Dunbar's comic pieces, all of which possess 
 Considerable merit, the most excellent are his two 
 tales of the two married Women and the Widow, 
 and the Friars of Berwick. The latter, in parti- 
 cular, is admirable ; but its merit would evidently 
 be lost in an abridgment. 
 
 I believe that no edition of this elegant and ori- 
 ginal writer has yt been published. 
 
 GAWIN DOUGLAS, bishop of Dunkeld, was born 
 in the end of 1474, or in the beginning of 1475. 
 He was third son of Archibald, the great Earl of 
 Angus ; was educated at St Andrews, is supposed 
 to liave spent some time in travelling, and on his 
 return to Scotland became provost of St Giles's 
 church in Edinburgh. In 1514, the queen-mother 
 (who afterwards married his nephew the earl of
 
 [ 391 ] 
 
 Angus) presented him to the abbey of Aberbro- 
 thic, and soon after to the archbishopric of St 
 Andrews ; but, the pope having refused to confirm 
 his nomination, he never assumed the title. In 
 the next year ( 1515) he became Bishop of Dun- 
 keld ; and, after some struggle, obtained peaceable 
 possession of that see : but neither his ecclesias- 
 tical character, nor his learning, nor his many 
 virtues, were able to preserve him, in those times 
 of violence, from the proscription which involved 
 the whole family of Douglas ; so that, towards the 
 close of the year 1521, he was compelled, by the 
 persecution of the Duke of Albany, to seek for pro- 
 tection in England, where he died about the month 
 of April, 1522. 
 
 The only remaining works of this poet are, 1. 
 King Hart ; 2. The Palace of Honour ; and 3. A 
 Trantlation of VirgiPs JEneid. Mr Pinkerton has 
 printed the first of these, from a MS. In the Mail - 
 land collection, in his Ancient Scotish Poems 
 (2 vols. 1786), and the second, from the edition 
 of 1533, in the first volume of his Scotidi Poems, 
 (3 vols. 1792). Of the third there have been two 
 editions, of which the best is that of Edinburgh, 
 1710, published by Mr Uuddiman, with an excel* 
 lent life of the author (by Bishop Sage), and a 
 very curious and valuable glossary.
 
 [ 392 ] 
 
 King Hart is an allegorical representation of 
 human life. The heart, being the noblest part of 
 man, is represented as his sovereign ; and the court 
 of this imaginary monarch is composed of the se- 
 veral attributes of youth. King Hart is assaulted 
 by Queen Pleasance, whom, after a long resistance, 
 he marries. At length, Age arrives at their castle, 
 and insists on being admitted : Age is immediate- 
 ly followed by Conscience ; queen Pleasance takes 
 her departure ; Decrepitude attacks and wounds 
 the king, who dies, after making his testament. 
 
 The Palace of Honour is also an allegory ; the 
 general object of which is to represent the vanity 
 and instability of worldly glory, and to shew that 
 virtue is the truest guide to happiness. The plan of 
 this work was, perhaps, suggested by the Sejour 
 d'Honneur of Octavien de St Gelais : but as the 
 merit of such works is now thought to consist only 
 in the accidental beauties which they may be found 
 to possess, their contrivance and fabric is scarcely 
 worth analyzing. St Gelais, who was a great 
 translator, made a French version of the ^Eneid, 
 which, though miserably executed, may possibly 
 have recommended him to his author's notice. 
 
 Gawin Douglas began his translation of the 
 /Eneid in January, 1512, and finished it, together 
 with the supplement written by Mapheus Vegias,
 
 393 ] 
 
 in July, 1513- The completion of such a poem in 
 eighteen months, at a time when no metrical ver- 
 sion of a classic (excepting Boethius) had yet ap- 
 peared in English, is really astonishing : for the 
 work is executed with equal fidelity and spirit, and 
 is farther recommended by many beautiful speci- 
 mens of original poetry, which, under the name of 
 prologues, are prefixed to each of the thirteen 
 books, and from which the following specimens of 
 the author's style are selected. 
 
 The prologue to the seventh book is a descrip- 
 tion of winter, consisting of 165 lines, but the 
 reader will probably be satisfied with a very short 
 sketch of this dismal picture. 
 
 The time and season bitter, cold, and pale, 
 They short dayis that clerkis ' clepc * bmmale : 
 When brym blastis of the northern art 3 
 O'erwhelmyt had Neptunus in his cart, 
 And all to-shake the leavys off the trees, 
 The ragcand storms o'er-wclternnd* wally J 
 Rivers ran red on spate, 6 with water brown, 
 And burnis 1 harlis* all their bankis down ; 
 
 1 Learned men. * Call. 3 Arcluruj. 
 
 * Rolling ovrr. 5 Wavy. 6 i'oam. 
 
 ? Rivulets. 8 Drags.
 
 C 394 ] 
 
 And land'birst f rumbland rudely, with sic 
 Sa loud ne'er rummyst 3 wild lyoun nor bear. 
 Floods monsters, sic as mere stuinis, 4 and whales, 
 For the tempest, low in the deep devales. s 
 
 ****# 
 
 The soil y sotupit, into the tuater tvak, 6 
 The firmament o'ercast with cloudis black 
 The ground fadit, andjauch 7 toox all the fields, 
 Mountain-tops sleekit with snow over-hields. 8 
 On raggit rockis, of hard harsh txihyn-slane t 
 With frozen fronts, cold clynty 9 clewis I0 shane. 
 Beauty was lost ; and barren shew the lands, 
 With frostis hare" o'erfret** the fieldis stands'. 
 [Sere birtir bubbis, 1J and the shoutis snell,** 
 Seem'd on the sward in similitude of hell; 
 Reducing to our mind, in every stead, 
 Gousty 1S shadows of eild and grisly dead :} 
 Thick drumly* 6 skuggis 1? darken'd so the heaven I 
 Dim skyis oft forth laarpit I8 fearful levin, IJ> &c. 
 
 In this description, and throughout the whole pro- 
 
 I Landsprings, accidental torrents. * Noise. 
 
 3 Roared. * Sea-hogs, i. e, porpoises. s Descend. Fr. 
 6 Moist with water. 7 Fauve, Fr. fawn-coloured. 
 
 8 Covered. 9 Hard, flinty. J0 Clifis. 
 
 II Hoar. 12 Embroidered. I3 Many huge blasts. 
 14 Piercing. 1S Ghastly. l6 Muddy, opaque. 
 ' Shadows. 18 Threw. I9 Lightning.
 
 [ 395 J 
 
 logue, the prospect seems to be designedly crowd 
 ed and even encumbered with dreadful images : 
 but it must be confessed that the English reader 
 finds himself still further bewildered by a number 
 of uncouth words, some of which are scarcely ren- 
 dered intelligible by Ruddiman's excellent glos- 
 sary. 
 
 It has been observed that, during the fourteenth 
 century, the difference between the Scotish and 
 English dialects was scarcely perceptible ; and that 
 those persons who are familiarized with the phra- 
 seology of Chaucer will find no difficulty in under- 
 standing that of Barbour and Wyntown : whereas 
 the diction of Gawin Douglas is far more obscure, 
 and even in appearance more antiquated and obso- 
 lete, by near a century, than that of writers who 
 preceded him. The fact is notorious ; and its 
 causes may be worth tracing. 
 
 The Danish and Anglo-Saxon, the supposed pa- 
 rents of the Scotish and English languages, were 
 distinct dialects of the elder Gothic : but, in the 
 infancy of literature, the poets of both countries, 
 being equally dissatisfied with the poverty of their 
 respective jargons, and conscious of the superior 
 elegance which appeared in the French minstrel 
 compositions, vied with each other in borrowing 
 from these favourite models as hiany words and 
 phrases as it was possible to incorporate with
 
 [ 396 1 
 
 their native forms of speech. In consequents of 
 this practice, the two languages seem to have 
 attained, about the middle of the 14-th century, 
 their greatest degree of similarity. But these fo- 
 reign words, being once naturalized, could not fail 
 of undergoing considerable alterations ; because 
 the broader vowel-sounds, the gutturals, and the 
 strongly aspirated accents of the Scots differed 
 equally from the French and English pronuncia- 
 tion; and this difference was preserved and in- 
 creased, on both sides, by discordant and capri- 
 cious systems of orthography. At the same time, 
 as the number of readers increased, the writers be- 
 came desirous of accommodating themselves to 
 the general taste ; and consequently began to trans- 
 plant from colloquial into literary language a va- 
 riety of popular expressions, which, being pecu* 
 liar to the one country, were obscure, or even un- 
 intelligible, to the natives of the other. 
 
 Gawin Douglas, indeed, was so far from seeking 
 popularity from English readers, that, in his excuses 
 for his defects of style, he only laments the impos- 
 sibility of making it purely and exclusively Scotish. 
 
 And yet, forsooth, I set my busy pain 
 
 (As that I couth) to make it BRACE x AND PLAIN : 
 
 1 Broad.
 
 [ 397 ] 
 
 Keepand NO SODROUN, * but CUR OWN LAN- 
 
 GUAGE, 
 
 And speak as I learn'd when I was one page. 
 Na yet so clean all sodroun I refuse, 
 But SOME WORD i PRONOUNCE as neighbours does. 
 Like as in Latin bene Grewe * termes some, 
 So me behovit, whilom (or be dumb), 
 Some bastard Latin, French, or Ynglis * ois, 4 
 Where scant was Scottis : I had none other choice. 
 
 [Preface.] 
 
 The most beautiful of all Gawin Douglas's pro- 
 logues is that of the twelfth book : it is hoped there- 
 fore, that the reader will pardon the length of the 
 following extract in favour of the splendid imagery 
 which it exhibits. It is a description of May. 
 
 As fresh Aurora, to mighty Tithone spouse, 
 Jschit J of her saffron bed, and evyr 6 house, 
 In crammesy 7 clad, and grainit violet, 
 \Vith sanguine cape, the selvage purpurate, 
 Unshut the windows of her large hall 
 Spread all with roses, and full of balm royall: 
 And eke the heavenly portis chrystalline 
 is 8 brade the world till illumene. 
 
 Southern, English. a Greek. 3 English. 
 
 4 use. 5 I8 uctb ' * Ivory. 
 
 7 Cramoui, Fr. crimson. 8 Draws up.
 
 [ 398 3 
 
 Ecus, the steed, with ruby hantmys * red, 
 
 Above the seals lifts forth his head, 
 
 Of colour sore, * and some-deal brown as berry, 
 
 For to alighten and glad our hemispery, 
 
 The flame out brastin at the neiss-thirlis. 3 
 
 ****** 
 
 While shortly, with the Wesand 4 torch of day, 
 Abulyeit 5 in his lemand 6 fresh array 
 Forth of his palace royal ischit Phebus, 
 With golden crown, and visage glorious ; 
 Crisp hairis, bright as chrysolite, or topase, 
 For tahais hue might nane behold his face ; 
 The fiery sparkis brasting from his een, 
 
 To purge the air, and gild the tender green. 
 
 ***** * 
 
 The aureate fanis of his throne soverane 
 With glitterand glance o'erspread the octiane ; 7 
 The large floodis lemand all of light, 
 But with one blenk 8 of his supernal sight. 
 For to behold it was one glare 9 to see 
 The stablyt windis, and the calmyt sea, 
 
 1 Yoke. Vide Rudd. Gloss. Or qu. arnica ? 
 * Yellowish-brown. Fr. 3 Nostrils. 
 
 4 Blazing. 
 
 5 Habilte, dressed. The final 6 was in Old Fr. written tit, 
 
 6 Gleaming, shining. 7 Ocean. 
 
 8 Look, glance. 9 Glory. Fr. 
 
 9
 
 [ 399 ] 
 
 The soft seasoune, the firmament serene, 
 The loun * illuminate air, andjlrtk amene ; * 
 The silver-scalit fishes on the grete, * 
 O'er-thwart clear streams sprinkittand* for the heat, 
 With finnis shinand brown as synopare, 5 
 
 And chisel tailis stirrand here and there. 
 
 ****** 
 
 And lusty Flora did her bloomes sprede 
 Under the feet of Phebus* sidyeart 6 steed : 
 The swardit soil enbrode" 3 with selcouth* hues, 
 Wood and forest obumbrate with the betas ; 9 
 Whais blissful branches, portray'd on the ground^ 
 With shadows sheen, shew rochis I0 rubicund, 
 Towers, turrets, kirnals 11 and pinnacles high, 
 Of kirkis, castles, and ilk fair city; 
 Stood paint it every fane, phioll, " and stage, 
 
 Upon the plain ground by their own umbrage. 
 
 -***** 
 
 And blissful blossoms, in thebloomytyarrf,' 3 
 Submits their heads in the young sun's safe-guard. 
 Ivy leaves rank o'erspread the baimkyn ' 4 wall\ 
 The bloomit hawthorn clad hispylcis' 5 all : 
 
 1 Clean. Pleasant water, frith. 3 Gravel. 
 
 4 Gliding swiftly with a tremulous motion of their tails. 
 
 3 Cinnabar. 6 Sultry 7 tmbroidt-red. 8 Uncommon. Sax. 
 
 9 Boughs io Rocks. " Crenelles, FT. battlements. 
 
 '* Cupola ; fiole, Yr. 1J (Jarden. Vide suprm p. 303-4, note. 
 
 ** Alound or wall ; from barmc, Old Fr. the bank of a river. 
 
 15 Thorns.
 
 [ 400 ] 
 
 Forth of fresh burgeouns ' the wine-grapis ying 
 Endlang the trellis did on twistis king. * 
 The lockit buttons on the gemmyt trees, 
 O'erspreadand leaves of nature's tapestries, 
 Soft grassy verdure, after balmy showers, 
 On curland stalkis smiland to their flowers, 
 Beholdand them sa many divers hue, 
 Somepeirs, 3 somepaleS some burnet, s a.nd some blue, 
 Somegres, some gules, 6 some purpure, some san- 
 
 guane, 
 
 Blanchit, 7 or brown, Jauch-yelloiv 8 mamyane ; 
 Some, heavenly-colour'd, in celestial gre, 9 
 Some, watery-hued, as the haw-wally 10 sea; 
 And some, departs in freckles, red and white. 
 Some bright as gold, with aureate leavis lyte. 11 
 The daisy did un-braid her crownel smale, 
 And every flower un-lappit in the dale. 
 ****** 
 
 The flourdelyce forth spread his heavenly hue, 
 Flower damas, 1 * and columbe ' 3 black and blue. 
 Sere downis small on dentilion sprang, 
 The younggreenbloomit&trawbfirry leaves amang; 
 
 1 Buds, Fr. a Hang. 
 
 3 Light blue, Fr. 4 Light yellow, Fr. 
 
 5 Bru.net, Fr. brownish. 6 Red. 
 * Whitish, Fr. 8 Fawn-coloured yellow. 
 
 9 Gri$, Fr. ; sky-blue. I0 Dark waved. 
 f* Little, I .* The damask rose. ' 3 Columbine.
 
 C 401 ] 
 
 Gimp * gilliflowers their own leaves wi-schet, * 
 Fresh primrose, and the purpour violet.- 
 The rose-knoppis, tctand* forth their head, 
 Gan chyp, 4 and kyth s their vernal lippis red ; 
 Crisp scarlet leaves some shcddand ; baith at anes, 9 
 Cast fragrant smell amid fra golden grains. 
 Heavenly lilies, with lokkerand 1 toppis white, 
 Open'd, and shew their crestis redemyte. 8 
 The balmy vapour from their silken croppis 9 
 Distittand halcsum I0 sugar'd honey-droppis 
 ****** 
 
 So that ilk burgeon," scion, herb, or flower, 
 IVox " all embalmyt of the fresh liquour, 
 And bathit hait 1J did in dulce humours^/Zete, M 
 Whereof the bees wrought their honey sweet. 
 
 ****** 
 
 On salt streams tcolk 1J Dorida and Thetis ; 
 By rynnand 16 strandis, Nymphs, and Naiades, 
 
 I Pretty. " Unshut, open. 3 Peeping. 
 * Burst their calix. 5 Shew. 
 
 6 Both at once, i. e. while some buds were expanding, 
 other roses were hhrdding their leaves. 
 
 7 Curling like locks or ringlets of hair. 
 
 8 Crowned. ' iJcads. 
 
 10 Wholesome. " Bud, or sprig. Fr. 
 
 II Grew. '3 Unt. '* Float. 
 
 15 Walked ? '6 Running. 
 
 VOL. I. 2 r
 
 [ 402 ] 
 
 Sic as we clepe wenches and damysellis, 
 In gersy gravis * tvanderand by spring-wellis ; 
 Of bloomed branches, and flouris white and red, 
 Plettand* their lusty chaplets for their head. 
 Some sang ring-songis, 3 dances, ledis, 4 and rounds, 
 With voices shrill while all the dale resounds. 
 Whereso they walk into their caroling 
 For amorous lays does all the rochis ring. 
 Ane sang " The ship sails over the salt fame s 
 " Will bring thir 6 merchants and my leman hame." 
 Some other sings " I will be blithe and light, 
 " My heart is lent upon so goodly wight." 
 And thoughtful lovers rotvnyis * to and fro, 
 To lets 8 their pain, and plene 9 their jolly woe ; 
 After their guise, now singand, now in sorrow, 
 With heartis pensive, the lang summer's morrow. 
 Some ballads list endite of his lady ; 
 Some lives in hope ; and some all utterly 
 Despairit is ; and sa, quite out of grace, 
 His purgatory he finds in every place. 
 
 Before we proceed to take notice of the English 
 poets of this reign, it will be necessary to mention 
 two more Scotish writers, whom Gawin Douglas has 
 associated with Dunbar in the Palace of Honour. 
 
 'Grassy groves. 'Plaiting. 
 
 3 Rondeaus ? But vide Rudd. Gloss. 
 
 4 Lays ; leid, cantilena. Teut. s Foam. 6 These or those. 
 7 Whispers. 8 Lose. 9 Complain, lament.
 
 [ 403 3 
 
 " Of this nation I knew also anon 
 " GREAT KENNEDIE and Dunbar, yet undead, 
 " And QUINTINE, with an huttock * on his head." 
 
 [P. II. St. xvii.] 
 
 The first of these, WAITER KENNEDY, a native of 
 Carrick, and the contemporary of Dunbar, is only 
 known to us by two satires on Dunbar in their 
 jlytiug (scolding or lampooning), and by a poem 
 in praise of age, (p. 189 of Lord Hailes's collec- 
 tion), consisting of five stanzas. One of these will 
 be sufficient to give some idea of his style, though 
 it may not quite justify the honourable epithet be- 
 stowed on him by the bishop of Dunkeld. 
 
 This world is set for to deceive us even, 
 Pride is the net, and covetise is the train : 
 
 1 This word, which Mr Pinkertoo leaves unexplained, 
 seems to be two French words in disguise haute toque. 
 Toque is described by Cotgrave to be " a (fashion of) bon- 
 " net or cap, somewhat like our old courtier't velvet cap, 
 " worn ordinarily by scholars, and some old men." 
 
 I have been favoured by two ingenious friends in Scot* 
 land with different explanations of this obscure term. One 
 of them says " It is the Buchan and east-coast pronuncia- 
 " t\onofhudduck,a. little hood, which was probably a cowl:" 
 the other, " Huttock and huttockie seems to be a dirai- 
 " nutive, formed from Aut or hat in a manner very common 
 " in some provinces of Scotland, particularly the western. 
 " Thus we have hillock and bittockie, lassok and lassokie, 
 " &c. &c. ; I therefore incline to think Quintyn Schaw's 
 " head-dress must have been a small hat, instead of a Aai/fa 
 "toque."
 
 [ 4-04. ] 
 
 For no reward (except the joy of heaven) 
 Would I be young into this world again ! 
 
 The ship of faith tempestuous wind and rain 
 Drives in the sea of lo!!ardry that blaios : * 
 
 My youth is gone, and I am glad and fain ; 
 Honour, with age, to every virtue draws. 
 
 Of the second of these poets, QUINTYN SCHAW, 
 one specimen only remains, which is printed by 
 Mr Pinkerton, from the Maitland MS. Its title 
 is, " Advice to a Courtier" which may possibly 
 account for the head-dress assigned to him in the 
 Palace of Honour. Quintyn's style seems to have 
 been easy and familiar ; but having begun his poem 
 with an idea of the resemblance between the life of 
 a courtier and that of a mariner, he has introduced 
 so many sea-phrases and maritime allusions, as to 
 render his language almost unintelligible. The con- 
 cluding stanza, however, which contains the moral, 
 is sufficiently clear. 
 
 Dread this danger, good friend and brother, 
 And take example before of other. * 
 
 Know, courts and wind has oftsys 3 varied : 
 Keep well your course, and rule your rudder; 
 
 And think with kings ye are not married ! 
 
 [Anc. Sc. P.p. 134.] 
 
 1 Blows. * Of others before you ? 
 
 3 Oft-sithes, i. e. oft.time?.
 
 C 405 ] 
 
 Amongst the English contemporaries of Dunbar 
 and Douglas Mr Warton enumerates these fcho 
 follow. HENRY BRADSHAW, monk of the Bene- 
 dictine monastery of St Werburg in Chester, a mi- 
 serable imitator of Lydgate, who wrote in stanzas 
 the life of his patroness saint, daughter of a king of 
 the Mercians : * ROBERT FABIAN, the historical 
 alderman, f who is classed as a poet in consequence 
 of the metrical prologues prefixed to the books of 
 his Chronicle : JOHN WATTON, a priest, who wrote 
 some miserable rhymes for the purpose of enliven- 
 ing his theological traci> called " Speculum Christi- 
 ani" (Machlinia, about 1483) : and WILLIAM 
 CAXTON, the celebrated printer, who, besides his 
 rhyming introductions and epilogues, is supposed by 
 Mr Warton to be the author of a poem of consider- 
 able length, entitled ** The Werkof Sapience"-$. a 
 folio containing 37 leaves, printed by himself. But 
 the only poets who deserve any attention are, 
 ALEXANDER BARCLAY and STEPHEN HAWES ; 
 
 * " The holy life and history of Saynt Wcrburge, very 
 " frutefull for all christen people to rede." Pinsui,, 1681, 
 It". Vide Kitson's Uibliojiraphia ; and Warton, vol. II. 
 p. 176. Bradshaw died in 1513. 
 
 f r-ahi.-iii (lied, according to Stow, in 1511. 
 | Mr Kit-on (Uibliogrftpbia) observes, that this is more 
 justly attributed to Lydgate. though from the prologue Cax- 
 ton appears to be Uitt author. Vide also* Herbert's Ames. 
 9
 
 C 406 1 
 
 the first of whom is mentioned with much praise by 
 the ingenious author of" The Muses' Library," and 
 the second by Mr Warton. 
 
 BARCLAY is by some supposed to have been a 
 native either of Gloucestershire, Somersetshire, or 
 Devonshire ; while others, even among his contem- 
 poraries, assign him to Scotland : indeed, as Mr 
 Ritson observes (Bibl. Poet.), both his name of 
 baptism and the orthography of his surname seem 
 to prove that he was of Scotish extraction. In his 
 youth, perhaps about 1495, he is said to have 
 become a student of Oriel College, Oxford, where 
 he was patronized by the provost, Thomas Cornish, 
 suffragan bishop of Tyne, to whom he afterwards 
 dedicated his Skip of Fools. Having travelled, he 
 became chaplain to the College of St Mary Ottery, 
 Devon, then Benedictine Monk of Ely, and at 
 length took the habit of Franciscans at Canterbury. 
 On the dissolution of his monastery, Wood informs 
 us, he became vicar f Much-Badew in Essex, and 
 in 1546 of St Matthew at Wokey in Somersetshire. 
 Lastly, he had from the dean and chapter of 
 Canterbury the church of All-Saints in Lombard- 
 street,London, which he held till his death in 1552, 
 which took place at Croydon in Surrey, where, 
 from his first eclogue, he appears to have lived in 
 hisyouth. Wood'says, " in his younger days he wa
 
 " esteemed a good poet and orator, as several spe- 
 " cimens of his composition in those faculties shew~ 
 " ed, but when years came on, he spent his time 
 " mostly in pious matters and in reading the his- 
 " tories of Saints." He was a voluminous wri- 
 ter, particularly of translations, which were much 
 admired by his contemporaries, as being distin- 
 guished by an ease and fluency which are not to 
 be found in any other author of his age ; but his 
 poetical merit seems to have been a good deal 
 over-rated. 
 
 His smaller pieces are, I. The Castle of Labour, 
 an allegorical poem from the French, in seven-line 
 stanzas (W. de Worde,1506,4to.) II. The Mirror 
 of good Manners (printed by Pinson), in the bal- 
 lad-stanza, from the Latin elegiacs of Dominions 
 Mancinus de quatuor virtutibus, undertaken to 
 oblige Sir Giles Alyngton, who had wished him to 
 abridge or modernize Gower's Confessio Araantis. 
 III. Five Eclogues, compiled in his youth : the three 
 first, paraphrased with very large additions from 
 the Miseriae Curialium of Eneas Sylvius, treat of 
 " the myseryes of couriers and courtes of all 
 " prynces in general :" the fourth, (in which is a 
 long poem in stanzas, called the Tower of Virtue 
 and Honour, being an elegy on the death of the 
 duke of Norfolk, lord high admiral, introduced a-
 
 [ 408 ] 
 
 a song of one of the shepherds), " conteyniug 
 " the maner of the riche men anenst poets and 
 " other clerkes :" and " the fifth, of the cytezen 
 " and up londyshman :" all printed by Pinson or 
 de Worde, and the three first by Humfrey Powell 
 (4to without date). Besides these, he was the au- 
 thor of some less important pieces, as well as a tract 
 " de Pronuntiatione Gallica," and a prose transla- 
 tion of Sallust's Jugurthine War, at the command 
 of Thomas, duke of Norfolk, twice printed in folio 
 by Pinson. From the eclogues, supposed by Mr 
 Warton to be the first written in English, he has se- 
 lected a number of passages which, though they have 
 no other merit, contain some curious particulars re- 
 lating to the manners and customs of the time (see 
 a long note, vol. II. p. 253, Hist. Eng. P.). 
 
 But Barclay's principal and most popular work 
 was his Ship of Fools, a poem in the octave-stanza 
 paraphrased " out of Laten, Frenche, and Doche," 
 i. e. from the German original written in 1494 by 
 Sebastian Brandt, a learned civilian and eminent 
 philologist of Basil, and two translations into French 
 and Latin, the latter by James Locher, a scholar 
 of the inventor, printed in 1497. To these, says 
 Mr Warton, he made " considerable additions 
 " gleaned from the follies of his countrymen." 
 " The design was to ridicule the reigning vices and
 
 [ 409 ] 
 
 " follies of every rank and profession, under the 
 " allegory of a ship freighted with Fools of all kinds, 
 " but without any variety of incident, or artificial- 
 " ity of fable." " Our author's stanza is verbose, 
 " prosaic, and tedious : and for many pages toge- 
 " ther, his poetry is little better than a trite ho- 
 " mily in verse. The title promises much charac- 
 " ter and pleasantry : but we shall be disappoint- 
 " ed, if we expect to find the foibles of the crew 
 " of our ship touched by the hand of the autltor of 
 ** the Canterbury Tales, or exposed in the rough, 
 " yet strong satire of Pierce Plowman." The 
 book is not common, though twice printed (by 
 Pinson in 1509, and Cawood 1570, both in folio, 
 the latter containing his Eclogues and Mirror) ; 
 but the reader who shall turn to the extracts from 
 it, contained in Warton's history, and in " the 
 Muses' Library," will probably not much lament 
 their omission in this j,lace. 
 
 STEPHEN HA WES was a native of Suffolk, and, 
 like Barclay, after an academical education at Ox- 
 ford, travelled (according to Wood) in England, 
 Scotland, France, and Italy, and " became," says 
 Mr Warton, " a complete master of the French 
 " and Italian poetry." On his return to England, 
 he obtained an establishment (as groom of the 
 chamber) in the royal household; a reward, per-
 
 [ 410 ] 
 
 haps, for accomplishments so congenial to the taste 
 of Henry VII., who was a great admirer of French, 
 as well as a patron * of English poetry. 
 
 Hawes's principal work is the Pastime of Pka- 
 sure t the title of which in Tottel's edition is as 
 follows : " The History of graund Amoure and la 
 " bel Pucell called the Pastime of Pleasure, con- 
 " teyning the knowledge of the seven sciences, 
 " and the course of man's lyfe in this worlde. In- 
 " vented by Stephen Hawes, grome of King Hen- 
 " ry the seventh, his chamber." And Mr War-* 
 ton is of opinion, that " this poem contains no 
 " common touches of romantic and allegoric fic- 
 " tion ;" that " the personifications are often hap- 
 " pily sustained, and indicate the writer's fami- 
 " liarity with the Provencial school ;" and that 
 '* Hawes has added new graces to Lydgate's man- 
 " ner."f It is, however, very doubtful whether 
 
 * Henry VII. was seldom extravagant in his donations; 
 and yet we find in his household accounts the sum of IOC 
 shillings paid to Master Barnard, a blind poet, in return, as 
 it seems, for his poetical compositions. 
 
 t Wood says, " he was much esteemed by Henry VII. 
 " for his facetious discourse and prodigious memory ; 
 '' which last did evidently appear in this, that he could 
 " repeat by heart most of our .English poets ; especially Jo. 
 " Lydgate, a monk of Bury, whom he made equal in some 
 " respects with Geff. Chaucer." t
 
 every reader will concur in this favourable opinion 
 of Stephen Hawes's merit. 
 
 Ground Amour (true Gallantry), the hero of the 
 piece, falls asleep and sees a vision. He receives 
 from Fame the first account of La Belle Pucelle 
 ( perfect Beauty ) , and is by her referred for farther 
 particulars to the Tower of Doctrine- Here, cer- 
 tainly, is a beginning very much in the spirit of the 
 times ; but the subsequent conduct of the poem is 
 not very well calculated to gratify the impatience 
 of any reader who shall have taken a lively inte- 
 rest in the success of Ground Amour's passion. 
 An accurate knowledge of the seven sciences, viz. 
 grammar, logic, rhetoric, arithmetic, music, geo- 
 metry and astronomy, does not seem to be indis- 
 pensably requisite to the success of a love adven- 
 ture. These sciences, it is true, are all ladies ; 
 but many of them are dreadfully prolix in their 
 instructions. The two following stanzas are not 
 offered as the best specimen of this author's style, 
 but they are part of the hero's conversation with 
 dame Grammar, who has (as she ought to have) 
 the merit of being more concise than dame Rheto- 
 ric, dame Music, &c. 
 
 " Madam," quod I, " for as much as there be 
 
 " Eight partes of speech, I would know right fain 
 14 What a noun substantive is in his degree,
 
 r 2 3 
 
 " And wherefore it is so called certain ?" 
 To whom she answer'd right gentely again, 
 Saying alway that a noun substantive 
 Might stand without help of an adjective. 
 
 iV.Xitt'l (iV^'V-lkl '.{> i, ; ;!.-..S-J.'r j> v 
 
 " The Latin worde, which that is referred 
 " Unto a thing which is substantial, 
 
 " For a noun substantive is well averred, 
 " And with a gender is decimal ; 
 '* So all the eight partes in general 
 
 " Are Latin words annexed properly 
 
 " To every speech, for to speak formally." 
 
 [Cap. V.] 
 
 OO^j 4 3tfiL';;; ,OtJ3//.ff;/fO , '!*fH 
 The education of Ground Amour, which, how-' 
 ever, is somewhat enlivened by a meeting with his 
 mistress, whom he had not hitherto seen, occupies 
 rather more than one half of this pastime of plea- 
 sure ; after which he begins his military career, 
 for the purpose of obtaining Belle Pucelle. But 
 here the attention of the reader is very unexpect- 
 edly diverted to a strange personage, who calls 
 himself Godfrey Gobelive, but who turns out to 
 be False Report disguised as a fool. Godfrey calum- 
 niates the whole female sex, and relates two tales, 
 copied from the French fabliaux. The first is the 
 Lay of Aristotle, the second nearly resembles that 
 of Hippocrates ; but the adventure is attributed t#
 
 Virgil the enchanter, who, in return for tlie trick of 
 the basket, inflicts on his fair enemy a punishment 
 too disgusting to mention. After this gross and 
 unnecessary episode, our allegorical 'hero achieves 
 some marvellous adventures, and obtains posses- 
 sion of his mistress. But the story does not stop 
 here ; for Ground Amour proceeds to relate his 
 own death and burial ; and how Remembrance set 
 his epytapliij over his grave ; and how Time came 
 suddenly into the Temple ; and how dame Eternity 
 fame into the Temple, in a fair ivhite vesture, and 
 of the speech she made; after which comes "the 
 excusacion of the aucthoure." 
 
 Throughout the work, Hawes has studiously imi- 
 tated the style of Lydgate, but he has generally 
 copied his worst manner. He is diffuse, fond of 
 expletives, and his epithets add nothing to the 
 sense. Of his more laboured diction the reader 
 will judge from the following stanza: 
 
 Her redolent words, of sweet influence, 
 Dcgouted vapour most aromatic, 
 
 And made conversion of my complacence 
 Her depur'd and her lusty rhetoric 
 My courage rcform'd that was so lunatic, 
 
 My sorrow defeated, and my mind did modify, 
 
 And my dolorous heart began to pacify. 
 
 [Cap. XXXVIIL]
 
 The reader, when he has witnessed the final So- 
 lemnities of her " grete manage" with Ground 
 Amour, will perhaps take his leave of La Belle Pu- 
 celle without any extraordinary reluctance. 
 
 And she took her leave I kist her lovely; 
 I went to bed, but I could not sleep ; 
 
 For I thought so much upon her inwardly, 
 Her most sweet looks into my heart did creep, 
 Piercing it through with a wound so deep ; 
 
 For nature thought every hour a day, 
 
 Till to my lady I should my debt well pay. 
 
 Then Perseverance, in all goodly haste, 
 Unto the steward, called Liberality, 
 
 Gave warning for to make ready fast, 
 Against this time of great solemnity, 
 That on the morrow hallowed should be : 
 
 She warned the cook called Temperance, 
 
 And after that the sewer Observance, 
 
 With Pleasance the panter, and dame Courtesy 
 The gentle butler, with the ladies all ; 
 
 Each in her office was prepared shortly, 
 Against this feast so much triumphal! : 
 And La Belle Pucelle then in speciall 
 
 Was up betime in the morrow gray, 
 
 Right so was I when I saw the day. 
 8
 
 And right anon La Belle Pucelle me sent, 
 Against my wedding, of the satin fine 
 
 White as the milk, a goodly garment 
 
 Branded with pearl that clearly did shine ; 
 And so the marriage for to determine 
 
 Venus me brought to a royal chapel 
 
 Which of fine gold was wrought every deal. 
 
 And, after that, the gay and glorious 
 
 La Belle Pucelle to the chapel was led 
 In a white vesture fair and precious, 
 
 With a golden chaplet on her yellow head ; 
 
 And Lex Ecclesice did me to her wed : 
 After which wedding there was a great feast ; 
 Nothing we lacked, but had of the best. 
 
 What should I tarry by long continuance 
 Of the feast ? for of my joy and pleasure 
 
 Wisdom can judge withouten variance 
 
 That nought I lacked, as ye may well be sure, 
 Paying the sweet due debt of nature. 
 
 Thus with my lady that was so fair and clear, 
 
 In joy I lived full right many a year. 
 
 [Cap. XXIX.] 
 
 The Pastime of Pleasure has been thrice print- 
 ed ; the first time by Wynkyn de Worde, in 1517 ; 
 again by John Wayland, in 155*; and by Richard
 
 C 6 3 
 
 Tottell, in 1555. The first and last of these are 
 " adorned with wooden cuts, to make the reader 
 " understand the story better," as we are informed 
 by Wood. Hawes's other works are, the Temple 
 of Glass (which however is ascribed to Lydgate in 
 the Pastime of Pleasure, cap. XIV.) ; written, as 
 it appears, in imitation of Chaucer's Temple of 
 Fame : " The Conversion of Swerers" in octave- 
 stanzas, with Latin lemmatta, by W. de Worde, 
 1509, 4>to. " Ajoyfull Medytacyon to all Englonde 
 " of the Coronacyon of our moost naturaU Sove- 
 " rayne lord kynge Henry the eyght ;" a single 
 sheet in 4to, without date, by the same printer : 
 (this is preserved in the library at Cambridge, and 
 is ornamented with a curious wooden cut of the 
 coronation of Henry VIII. and Catharine of Ar- 
 ragon.) " A compendyous story, and it is called the 
 " Example of Verlu, in the tnhiche ye shall Jynde 
 " many goodly storys, and naturall dysputacyons, 
 " byt-voenefoure ladyes, named Hardynes, Sapyence, 
 " Fortune and Nature ;" printed by ditto, 1530 : 
 The Consolation of Lovers : The Delight of the 
 Soul : Of the Prince's Marriage : The Alphabet of 
 Birds : one or more of. which, according to Wood, 
 were written in Latin, and, perhaps, never printed.
 
 C 417 ] 
 
 Having beenfavoured by a friend, since the present 
 volume luas jinished, with an Extract from the 
 original MS. of R. de Brunne's Translation of 
 Wace, containing the account of Arthur's Coro- 
 nation, "which has been already given in the Latin 
 of Geoffrey of Monmouth, the French of Wace, 
 the Saxon ofLayamon, and the rude English of 
 Robert of Gloucester ; / here subjoin it for the 
 satisfaction of the curious reader, by way of com- 
 pleting the series. 
 
 WHEN the masses were done, 
 And homeward were all bon, * 
 The king did off his tire * there, 
 That he to the kirk bare, 
 And took another of less price : 
 The queen did the same wise. 
 The king into his paleis, 
 And sate at the meat that ilk tueis : 3 
 The queen till another yede, 
 And the ladies with her 'gan lead. 
 
 1 fioun, ready. 
 
 1 Attire ; unless it be a corruption of tiara, as the origi- 
 nal mentions bis crown. 3 At that time ? Hid dee ? 
 VOL, T. 2 D
 
 C 418 1 
 
 Sometime was custom of Troy, 
 When they made feast of joy, 
 Men together should go to meat ; 
 Ladies by themself should eat. 
 That ilk usage was at the feast, 
 The women come among the guest, 
 The women withouten men should be. 
 But serviters of meyne. x 
 The king was up at the des t * 
 About him th6 mickle press ; 
 About him the lordes sate, 
 Ilka lord after his state. 
 Sir Kay was steward chosen of all, 
 To serve before the king in hall. 
 His clothing was rich and fine, 
 And the pelore 3 of ermine. 
 With him served before the king 
 A thousand in the same clothing. 
 Out of the kitchen served Sir Kay 
 And all his fellows that day. 
 Sir Beduer on that other partie 
 He served of the buttery. 
 With him was clad in ermine 
 A thousand that brought the wine. 
 
 1 The household. " The high table. 
 
 3 Fur.
 
 [ 419 ] 
 
 The king's cup Sir Beduer bare ; 
 
 He yede before that there were. 
 
 After him come all the rout 
 
 That served the barons all about. 
 
 The queen was served richly; 
 
 Her servants was signed* ready 
 
 In all office for to serve 
 
 And before tho ladies keroe* * 
 
 Many vessel was there rich, 
 
 Of ser 3 colours not all lic/tc. * 
 
 Of meats many manner service, 
 
 And ser drinkes on that wise. 
 
 All the nobley couth I not tell, 
 
 Ne might stonde thereon to dwell. 
 
 The names to say of the richess, 
 
 Ne the men of prowess, 
 
 Ne the courtesy, ne the honour ; 
 
 Of christianty there was the flower. 
 
 Was there no knight so high of blood, 
 
 Ne had so mickle worldes good, 
 
 That therefore should be holden of price, 
 
 But he in deed were proved thrice ; 
 
 Thrice proved at the least ; 
 
 Then was he (dosed 5 at the feast : 
 
 1 Assigned. a Carve. 3 Sere, many, several. 
 
 * Alike, uniform. ' I suppose this must mean 
 
 praised, commended ; from the French and old Eng. word 
 la, but I never saw the verb before.
 
 [ 420 ] 
 
 Then should his armes that men knew 
 
 And his clothing all o' hue i 
 
 That same queintise * his armes had, 
 
 In that same he should be clad : 
 
 His wife was clad in the same colour, 
 
 For her lord was of honour. 
 
 If one were doughty and single man, 
 
 He should che * him a lemman .- 3 
 
 Else should he not be loved, 
 
 But he had been in battle proved. 
 
 Tho ladies that were holden chaste, 
 
 For no thing would no do waste, 
 
 Tho ladies were clad in one, 
 
 And by their clothing men knew ilkon. 
 
 When they had eaten and should rise, 
 
 Ilk man dight him on that wise 
 
 That he couth in play : 
 
 Unto the field he took his way, 
 
 And parted then in stedes sere * 
 
 To play ilkon on their manere. 
 
 Some justed that couth and might, 
 
 For to show their steedes light : 
 
 Some skipped, and cast the stone, 
 
 And some wrestled full good ione t s 
 
 1 Device. 
 
 1 Che, for chest, i. e. choose. 
 
 3 Mistress. * Many places. 
 
 5 For a long time.
 
 4 
 
 [ 421 ] 
 
 Darte shotte, lances cast, 
 And tho that couth skinned * fast : 
 Ilkon played the gamen he couth, 
 And waste 1 had used in his youth. 
 That best did in his playing, 
 He was brought before the king, 
 And the king gave him meed, 
 That he was payed or he yede. 
 The ladies on the walls stegh, 3 
 For to behold all their play. 
 Whoso had leman thore in place 
 Toward him turned the face, 
 On both sides ilk other beheld, 
 Tho on the walls, tho in the/e/tf. 
 Jogelours* weren there enow, 
 That their quaintise 5 forthe drouhe ; 6 
 Minstrels many with divers glew," 1 
 SoiiJts of bemes 8 that men blew, 
 Harpes, pipes, and labours, 
 Fithols, 9 citolles, le sautreours, lf 
 Belles, chimes, and synfan, '* 
 Other enow neuen IJ I ne kan ; * 4 
 
 Skirmished. * Most. Stood. 
 
 Juggler*. ' Contrivances, instruments. 
 
 6 Drew. 7 Glee, game. 8 Sounds of trumpets 
 
 9 Perhaps, fiddles I0 Cymbals." Dulcimers. 
 
 11 Symphonier, a sort of drum. l3 Name. 
 
 l+ Ken not? or, can not?
 
 [ 422 ] 
 
 Songsters, that merry sung, 
 
 Sound ofglew over all rung ; 
 
 Disours enow telled fables ; 
 
 And some played with dice at tables ; 
 
 And some at the hazard fast, 
 
 And lost and won by chance of cast. 
 
 Some, that will'dnot of the tattler,* 
 
 Drew forth meyne * of the chequer, 
 
 With draughts quaint of knight and roke, 
 
 With great slight ilk other snoke ; J 
 
 At ilk mating they said " check !" 
 
 That most les sat in his nek. 4 
 
 Three days lasted the feste ; 
 I trow was never none as that. 
 And when it come Wednesday, 
 That the folk should part away, 
 The king gave giftes rich. 
 Tho to his service were briche, s 
 And for their service held their fees, 
 He gave them burghs and cites ; 
 
 1 This probably signifies, " Some, that did not choose to 
 " attend to the talker, played at chess," 
 
 2 The force, retinue. 
 
 3 I do not understand this word. 
 
 * Perhaps " He who lost the most staked his neck V or 
 " sat naked ?" Vide the Fr. of Wace. 
 5 1 do not understand this word.
 
 [ 423 ] 
 
 Abbot and bishop avanced his rent, 
 
 Or they fro the court went. 
 
 That of other loncles were, 
 
 That for love come there, 
 
 He gave steeds and cups of gold, 
 
 (None richer aboun mould 1 ) 
 
 Some gave he hauberks, * some greyhounds, 
 
 Some rich robes worth many pounds, 
 
 Some mantels with veir and gris, 3 
 
 And some mazers 4 of rich price, 
 
 Some helms and hauberks. 
 
 Good palfreys he gave to clerks ; 
 
 Bows and arrows he gave archers ; 
 
 Runces s good unto squiers. 
 
 Some he gave habergeons, 6 
 
 Some plates, and some actons ; 7 
 
 Some he gave knives ofplyght, 
 
 And some swords richly dight. 
 
 Unto disours, that tell'd them gestes, 
 
 He gave clothes of wild bestes. 
 
 1 Upon the earth. 
 
 * Qu. Ought this to be " hawkt ?" 
 
 1 Veir is a variegated fur; gris, that of the grey squirrel. 
 
 4 Cups. O. Fr. 5 Horses. O. Fr. 
 
 6 Coats of mail. 
 
 7 A strong quilted leathern covering for the body. 4u- 
 queton. O. Fr.
 
 [ 424- ] 
 
 Some gave he pelore of ermine, 
 Some lavaur ' of silver with basin. 
 Was there none ought worthy, 
 That he ne gave him blithely ; 
 After that his state was lyfte y * 
 So he rewarded him with gyft. 
 
 1 E-wer. Fr. a Exalted. 
 
 END OF VOLUME FIRST. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 Printed by James Ballantyne & Co. 
 
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