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8FOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STBEET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREETJfolto iEantiscrtpt.
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EDITED BY
JOHN W. HALES, M.A.
FELLOW AND LATE ASSISTANT-TUTOR OF CHRIST’S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE AND
FREDERICK J. FURNIYALL, M.A.
OF TRINITY HALL, CAMBRIDGE.
(ASSISTED BY Prof. CHILD, of Harvard IJniv., U.S.; W. CHAPPELL, Esq., &c. &c.)
Vol. in.
LONDON:
N. TRUBNER & CO., 60 PATERNOSTER ROW.
1868. <g>'PREFACE
8^1
$511 t
it Con
vl 3
i |

TO
THE THIRD VOLUME.
Of this third volume the Historical Ballads are the principal feature. Though the Robin Hood set are continued by Adam Bell, and Younge Cloudeslee, the Arthur set by The Carle off Garlile, the Romances and Romance-poems by Sir Degree and Sir Cawline, yet the Historical Ballads far outweigh these in number and importance. Starting at King Edgar, they take us down through William the Conquer our, The Drowning of Henery the I his Children, Edward the Third, the Seege of Bonne (1418-19), Proud where the Spencers, the Murthering of Edward the Fourth his Sonnes, The Bose of Englande, Sir John Butler, Bosworth Feilde, Ladye Bessiye, Sir Andrew Bartton (1511), the Wininge of Coles (1596), The Spanish Ladies Love, to A Prophecye of James I.’s time, 1620 a.d., written some twenty years before the MS. was copied.
More Songs also appear in this volume than in either of the previous ones, and include the beautiful Nut-Brown Mayde (though in a poor text), Balowe (in which Mr. Chappell and Dr. Rimbault have helped us), and a spirited hawking song, A Cauilere. But the piece of chief merit is undoubtedly the fine alliterative poem in two fitts, now for the first time printed, Death & Liffe. The best authority on English alliterative poetry, thevi	PREFACE TO THE THIRD VOLUME*
Eev. Walter W. Skeat, has been good enough both to 6 introduct * and comment on the poem for us, and also to write us an Essay on Alliterative Metre, which we commend to the study of our readers.
Of the other Introductions, Mr. Hales has written all, except-those to Swr John Butler (which is by Dr. Robson), JSneas d Dido (by Mr. W. Chappell), and the following by Mr. Furnivall t In olde Times paste, Thomas of Potte, The Pore Man & the Kinge0 Now the Springe is comey Carle off Carlile, A Cauilere, Sir Andrew Bartton, Kinge Humber, Seege off Bonne. For the slightness of several of the Introductions we hope that our readers will accept the excuse of other pressing engagements*, which have kept back the volume since Nov. 11, 1867, when the text was all finished, and the MS. returned to its owners.
We again return thanks to Messrs. Skeat, Dyce and Chappell, to Mr. Gi. E. Adams (Rouge Dragon), Doctors Robson and Rimbault, and to Mr. Alfred Tennyson for a letter on the origin of the legend of Grodiva.
February 29, 1868.Vll
CONTENTS
OF
THE THIRD VOLUME.
PAGE
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY, BY THE REV. W. W. SKEAT . xi
NOTES- ...	.	. •..............xli
SIR CAWLINE ......................................1
SIR DEGREE .	.	.	.	.	.	.	.	.16
DEATH AND LIFFE..................................49
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGH, AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE 76
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE ,	  162
IN OLD TIMES PASTE.............................'119
DARKESOME CELL..................................123
MARKE MORE FOOLE .	.	.	.	. •	. ;	.	.127
THOMAS OF POTTE..........................  .	.	.136
WILLIAM THE CONQUEROUR .	.	.	...	.	.161
THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I HIS CHILDREN	.	.	.156
MURTHERING OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES	.	.	.162
THE FALL OF PRINCES ........	168
THE NUTT*»BROWNE MAYD .	  174
THE ROSE OF ENGLANDE............................187
THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE .	.	.	.	.	.195
SIR JOHN BUTLER .	.	.	.	.	.	.	.205
WILL STEWART AND JOHN .	.	.	.	»	.	.	.215
NOW THE SPRINGE IS COME .......	230
BOSWORTH FEILDE .........	233Vili
CONTENTS OF THE THIRD VOLUME.
iENEAS AND DIDO THE SQUIER 0. NOBLE FESTUS CARLE OFF CARLILE .
HERO AND LEANDER .
CRESSUS .
SONGS OF SHEPARDES THE LAUINIAN SHORE COME MY DAINTY DOXEYS TO OXFFORDE .
LADYE BESSIYE .
ARE WOMEN FAIRE ? .
A CAUILERE A PROP[H]ECYE MAUDLINE
COME, PRETTY WANTON HEE IS A FOOLE LULLA, LULLA!
A LOUER OFF LATE .
GREAT OR PROUDE .
THE SPANISH LADIES LOVE SIR ANDREW BARTTON PATIENT GRISSELL SCROOPE AND BROWNE KINGE HUMBER IN THE DATES OF OLDE AMINTAS .
WININGE OF CALES .
EDWARD THE THIRD AS YEE CAMiE FROM THE HOLYE LEOFFRICUS \ (OR GODIVA) PROUDE WHERE THE SPENCERS KINGE . EDGAR .
CHRISTOPHER WHITE .
QUEENE DIDO .
ALFFONSO AND G^NSELO
LAND
PAGE;
26()
26*
269
275
295
301
303
308
313
315
319
364
366
371
374
385
386
387 389 391 393 399 421 431 435 441 450 453 457 465 473 478 485 494 499 507CONTENTS OF THE THIRD VOLUME,
IX
PAGE
BALOWB . . . . . • .	.		-		. 515
GENTLE HEARD SMAN ....	c				. 524
I AM						. 529
COKID ON ......	.				. 530
SEEGE OFF EOUNE ....					. 532
SUCH A LOVER AM I.	.				. 542
APPENDIX 		.				. 544
GLOSSARY TO THE THREE VOLUMES .					. 547
INDEX TO THE THREE VOLUMES					. 573XI
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY,
By the Bey. W. W. SKEAT
{Editor of “Piers Plowman”)
Nothing has more tended to obscure the rules and laws of English prosody, than the absurd and mischievously false terminology that has been made use of in discussing it. Whilst it is pretty clear that it is based on quite a different system from the Latin and Greek metres—on an accentual, that is, not on a temporal system—we have attempted to explain its peculiarities by terms borrowed from the Latin and Greek, such as trochees, dactyls, &c., and we make perpetual use of the words long and short. The truth is, the whole terminology of English prosody, if it is not to be misleading and fruitful in all kinds of errors, has yet to be invented. Instead of short and long, I think the terms soft and loucl might be employed with great advantage. Dr. Guest1 shows clearly enough that “ an increase of loudness is the only thing essential to our English accent,” in opposition to the theory of Mitford, that it consists rather in sharpness of tone, though the two are often found together. Whichever view, however, is the more correct, this at least is certain, that, whereas the words long and short are almost sure to mislead, the words loud and soft will by no means do so in an equal degree; and I shall therefore henceforth employ these terms only. I define a loud syllable as that whereon an accent falls, a soft syllable as an unaccented one. In German, the terms heaving and sinking (hebung und senkung) have some-
1 Guest, Hist. Eng. Bhythms, voL i. p. 77.xii
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
times been employed to denote this raising and sinking of the voice.1
It were much to be wished that we had some genuine English terms to supply the place of the trochee, the iambus, the dactyl, and the anapcest. A trochee means a long syllable succeeded by a short one; but an English trochee is something quite different, viz., a loud syllable followed by a soft one, and it may even happen that the loud syllable is as rapid as the other, as for instance in the words Egypt or impact, which have so puzzled some writers, that they have, in despair, named them spondees! Were it allowable to give new names, they should be given on the principle of representing the things meant by help of the accents on the very names themselves. Thus a loud syllable followed by a soft one might be called (not a trochee, but) a Tonic; a soft one, succeeded by a loud one, might be called a Return; a loud one, followed by two soft ones, might be named (not a dactyl, but) a Dominant; and, finally, instead of anapaest, we might use some such term as Arabesque or Solitaire, until a better one can be thought of; for single words thus accented are rare in English, the nearest approach to them being exhibited by such words as refugee,cavalier, and serenade; and none of these even are free from a slight accent on the first syllable. I feel convinced that until some such new terms are invented, writers upon English metre will continue to say one thing, and to mean another. I shall therefore introduce hereafter the terms above defined, merely to save all misconception and a good deal of tedious explanation.
The Anglo-Saxon and Early English alliterative poems are, for the most part, closely related in their structure to the Icelandic measure called Fornyrftalag. Their versification, however, is often less regular, and in the poems of the four-
1 Dr. Latham, in his English Gram* way, viz., by employing algebraical mar, gets out of the' difficulty another symbols.AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.	xiii
teenth and fifteenth centuries especially we meet with several infringements even of the most important and cardinal rules of it.
In what follows, therefore, I hope I may be understood as speaking with reference to the Anglo-Saxon and Early English poems only, and with reference rather to Early English than to Anglo-Saxon; for many remarks that are perfectly true and important as regards these contravene the rules of Icelandic prosody, and relate to licences that, regarded from that point of view, would seem almost intolerable.
The principal rules of alliteration, such as we actually find them to be from a careful survey of Early English literature, may be very briefly stated.
Supposing the poem to be divided into short lines,1 as e.g. in Thorpe’s editions of Caedmon and Beowulf, the following canons will be found to hold, at least in those lines which are of the strictest type :
1.	The complete verse, or alliterative couplet, consists of two lines, each containing two loud syllables, coupled together by the use of alliteration.
2.	The initial letters which are common to two or more of these loud syllables are called the rime-letters. Each couplet should, if possible, have three of these, of which two belong to the first line, and are called the sub-letters; and one, which is called the chief -letter, to the second line.
3.	The chief-letter should begin the first of the two loud syllables in the second line. If the couplet contain only two rime-letters, it is because one of the sub-letters is dropped.
4.	If the chief-letter be a consonant, the sub-letters should be the same consonant, or a consonant having the same sound. If a vowel, it is sufficient that the sub-letters be vowels. They need not be the same, and in practice are generally different.
1 In “ Death and Liffe” and “ Scotish answer to the short lines of Beowulf, ffeilde,” the sections of each long linexiv
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY,
We sometimes meet with a combination of consonants/ such as sp, st, and the like, taking the place of a rime-letter. In this case the other rime-letters often, but not always, present the same combination, though the recurrence of the first letter only of the combination is sometimes deemed sufficient.
These rules may be exemplified by the following examples, in which the feet consist either of a loud syllable standing alone (which I shall call a Tone), of a loud syllable and one soft syllable (which I shall call a Tonic as above explained), or of a loud syllable followed by two soft syllables, i.e. of a Dominant; from which it appears that the one thing essential to a foot is its loud syllable.
(1)	swifce ges^elige; synna ne cu>on;
(2)	Mm & Mah-setl Mofena rices.
(3)	¿fcel-stafcolas eft gesette,
very happy; sins they knew not.
(Cadmon, ed. Thorpe, p. 2. 1. 12.)
home and a high seat of heaven’s kingdom.
{Cadmon, p. 3,1. 9.)
the native settlements might again establish.
(Caedmon, p. 6,1. 25.)
In example (1), the rules are all fulfilled : the initial letters of swti&e and scelige are the sub-letters; that of synna is the chief-letter. In example (2), the first foot of the first line has but two syllables. In example (3), the vowel e is the rime-letter, and there is but one sub-letter. These rules alone will not, however, carry us very far on our way. One most important modification of the verse may be thus explained.
Lines do not always begin with a loud syllable, but often one or two, and sometimes (in Early English especially) even three soft syllables precede it. These syllables are necessary to the sense, but not to the scansion of the line. This complement, which I shall call the catch, answers to the Icelandic mdlfylling. The use of it is a very necessary license, and lines in which it occurs are more common than those without it. No specialAN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
XV
stress should, in reading or reciting, be laid upon the syllables of which the catch consists. The following are examples of its
use:
i?ome & ddgeSe &) efreame benam.
geond-)/olen /yre &)/&r-cyle.
ge-)yr6med grfmme grip on wrafce.
of sway and dignity and joy deprived them.
(Ccedmon, p. 4,1. 19.)
filled throughout with fire and cold intense.
(\Ccedmon, p. 3,1. 29.)
provoked bitterly, he gripped in wrath.
(Ccedmon, p. 4,1. 29.)
Here &9 geond, &9 ge, are the catches. The third example shows us the combination gr used as a rime-letter. I add a few examples from Early English.
In) cuntinaunce of clothinge, gweinteliche degyset;
To) pxeyeve ^nd to jpenaunce _putten heom monye;
Bote in a) Mhyes morwnynge on) Afaluerne hulles,
Me bi-)/el a /erly,
A) /¿yrie me thouhte;
I) s^umberde in A sZepyng, hit) sownede so murie.
(Piers Plowman, ed. Skeat, A.prol. 1. 24, 25, 5, 6, 10.)
I have said, in rule 2, that rime-letters are the initial letters of certain loud syllables. In a large number of instances, the rime-letters are made to begin words also9 such words being chosen as commence with loud syllables, as in—
w£reda wuldor-cining
wordum h£rigen; (Caedmon, 1. 3.)
Worchinge and wondringe
as the) world asketh; (Piers PI. A. prol. 19.)
This is undoubtedly the best arrangement, but it cannot always be followed; when it is not, care should be taken that theXVI
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY*
initial syllable of the word is as soft and rapid as possible, as in gescelige and hifalle in the lines
swifce gesselige
synna no cuJ>on ; (Ccedm. ed. Thorpe, p. 2.1. 12.)
Mony) ferlyes han bifalle
in a) fewe 3¿res. (P. PL A. prol. 62.)
Indeed, these can hardly be considered as exceptions; for ge~ and hi- are mere prefixes, and it is with the syllables succeeding them that the words themselves truly begin.
The more this rule is departed from, the more risk is there of the true rhythm of the line being unperceived.
Occasional instances may be found where rime-letters begin soft syllables, of which I shall adduce instances; this, however, is decidedly bad, the fundamental principle of alliterative verse being this, that alliteration and heavy stress should always go together.
The second line of the couplet is nearly always the more regular. Sometimes, but rarely, it contains three loud syllables. In the first line, however, the occurrence of three loud syllables is by no means uncommon. Examples:
^yhtlic ^eofen-timber ;	the joyous heavenly-frame;
dolmas dselde—	the waters parted (he).
(Cadmon, p. 9,1. 23.)
/sé gre /reóho-heáwas, /rea eállum leóf—
fair kindly thews, the Lord dear to all.
(C&dmon, p. 5,1. 29.)
Now is) ATeéde he iWayden i-nómen, and no) mó of hem álle. (Piers Plowman, A. iii. 1.)
Another variation, not uncommon in Old English, is that each line of the couplet is alliterated by itself independently of the other line. Examples:
For) James he péntel ¿ónd hit in his ¿óok what his) Afoúntein be-wéneh and his) Jérke Jále.
{Piers Plowman, A. i. 159, 1; see also iii, 93, vii. 57, 69.)AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.	xvii
The following licences are also taken:
(a)	The chief-letter falls on the second loud syllable of the line; as in
Vn-)&uynde to heore &un and to) alle cristene; (P. PI. A. i. 166.)
(b)	Sometimes there are two rime-letters in the second line, and one in the first, which is the converse of the usual arrangement.
An example is furnished by the line—
tyle lie had syluer
for his) sawes and his selynge. (P. PI. A. ii. 112.)
(c)	The chief-letter is sometimes omitted, which is certainly a great blemish, and such lines of course occur but rarely. Examples are:
I wol) worschupe her-wih
treuthe in my lyue. (P. PI. A. vii. 94.)
And) 5e6re heor 5ras on hi 3ac to Caleys to sulle. (P. PI. A. iii. 189.)
(d)	Rime-letters sometimes begin soft syllables, even when the soft syllable occurs in the initial catch. An obvious instance is afforded by the line—
In 6r£a-)morgan with glee
thare) ^Zadchipe was evere. (Morte Arthure, 1. 59.)
(<e) By a very bold licence, the chief-letter even occurs in the initial catch of the second line. This, according to all the rules of Icelandic prosody, involves an absurd contradiction; but there are not only some, but rather numerous instances of this in Old English, and I add several examples in order that the point may become more obvious. I could add many more.
And) endeh as Ich er seide
in) profitable werkes. (P. PI. A. i. 120.)
her to) wonen with wrong
whil) god is in heuene. (P. PI. A. ii. 74.)
4"-
a
VOL. III.xviii
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY*
yit I) pveje pe, quod ^¿rs,
£>ar) charite, ¿if J?ou conne. (P. PL A. vii. 240.)
G-od) 3iue]> him his blissyng ]?at Ms) l^flode so sw^nkej?. (P. PL A. vii. 239.)
where it should he noted that his is not without a slight em-phasis on it> notwithstanding its position. In William and the Werwolf this licence is rather common* and I may instance lines 2836* 3000* 3113* 3133* 3137* 3467* 3614* 3984 as occurring to me after a very slight search. One instance may suffice; the rest are quite as decisive t
&) /airest of alio /ason /or) eny riche holde. {Werwolf, 2836.)
(f) Occasionally no alliteration is apparent at all. I fail to discover any in the line*
\vhi hat) Veniaunce fel
on) Saul and his children. (P. PL A. iii. 245.)
yet this line is undoubtedly genuine, as appears by a collation of MSS. See also Wemuolf, h 5035.
In fact, a continual and oft-repeated perusal of thousands of alliterative verses has convinced me that our old poets considered such licences quite allowable* provided that the swing of the line was well kept up by the regular recurrence of loud syllables. A line wholly without alliteration was quite admissible as a variation* and is not to be rejected as spurious. If however two or three irregular lines occur close together* they may then be regarded as probably not genuine. When* for instance* we meet with
Z&rne his ¿awe \ at is so ¿ele,
&) sippe teche it furher, (P. PL ii. 31,)
and, only three lines below* come upon
when) ^eo was me fro I) loked and byAelde,
j.t is not surprising to find that these lines rest on the authorityAN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.	xix
of one MS. only, and are in all probability an interpolation. In the same way I was first enabled to suspect the spuriousness of 1. 817-821 in Pierce the Ploughmans Creole, which lines are, in fact, omitted in both the existing MSS. But occasional licences, even when most bold, are scarcely to be regretted. They give freedom to the poet, and relief to the reader, who in old times was often a listener.
It appears further, from rules 2 and 3, that the second line should contain but one rime-letter. The point aimed at was no doubt this, viz., that in order to give the greater force and stress to the syllable containing the chief-letter, it is desirable that the second loud syllable in the second line of the couplet should not begin with a rime-letter. Hence couplets with four rime-letters are by no means good. Yet there are several instances in Piers Plowman, as
In a) somer sesun
when) soft© was the sonne. (P. Pl. A. prol. 1.)
That I) whs in a wildernesse wuste I neuer where. (P. PL A. prol. 12.)
There is, however, no such objection to four rime-letters, if the first three can be got into the first line of the couplet. The following lines are very effective:—
With) dhop iftch and derk and) d^dful of siht. (P. PL A. prol. 16.)
Fdfoh/loures /or to /¿cch&
that he bi)-/ore him seye. (Will, and Werwolf, 1. 26.)
$fcathylle ¿fcottlande by s&ylle
he) sPy-stys [read skyftys] as hym lykys. (Morte Arthurs, 1. 32.)
As regards the number of rime-letters in a couplet, three has generally been considered as the standard, regular, and most pleasing and effective number; but it is not always easy to be attained to, and hence couplets with only two are common enough. I think it would be well worth inquiry as to whether or not the frequent occurrence of only two rime-letters in anXX
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
Anglo-Saxon couplet is a mark of antiquityI imagine it will be found to be so,1 for it would appear that their system of verse was but a rough one at first, and was elaborated in course of time. It is tolerably certain, on the other hand, that the frequent introduction of a fourth rime-letter in Early English poems is a mark of lateness of date, as is curiously shown by the alterations made in the Lincoln’s Inn MS. of Piers Plowman, where the lines
Wende I) wÿdene in this world wondres to hère—
Vndur a) brôd bânke bi a) Bourne syde—
I sauh a) Tour on a Toft tritely I-mâket—
have been improved (?) by altering the words here, syde, and I-maket, into wayte, brymme, and ytymbred respectively.2
With regard to the complement or catch, Eask says :3— “ The chief-letter does not necessarily stand first in the second line, but is often preceded by one or more short words, yet not by such as require the tone or emphasis in reading. These short precursory words which, though independent of the structure of the verse, are necessary to the completion of the sense, constitute what may be called the complement, which, in arranging verses that are transcribed continuously, we must be careful not to confound with the verse itself, lest the alliteration, the structure of the verse, and even the sense, be thereby destroyed.” This statement Dr. Gruest tries to hold up to ridicule in strong terms,4 but I take it to be perfectly sound and correct as regards the main point at which Eask is aiming, though requiring some limitation, for though the catch may consist of u one or more words,” it is rarely of more than two
1	Such, I find, is also Dr. Guest’s 3 Rash’s Anglo-Saxon Grammar, transopinion ; Guest’s Hist. Eng. Rhythms, lated by Thorpe, 1830, p. 136.
yol. i. p. 141.	4 Guest, Hist. Eng. Rhythms, vol. ii.
2	See Piers "Plowman, Text A, ed. p. 6.
Skeat, p. xxii.AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.	xxi
syllables. The catch, as Dr. Gruest points out, is not absolutely toneless; yet it is clear that the aocented syllables which occur in it have a comparatively lighter tone, a slighter stress, than those in the body of the verse; they do not attain, in fact, to the same strength of accent as those syllables possess which have accent and metrical ictus both, and to which special force is lent by the use of rime-letters. Even in modern English verse, all accents are far from being equal, much depending on the position of words, so that we may even to some extent alter the accent on a word by merely shifting its place. Thus if we alter
Larger constellations burning, mellow moons and happy skies,
into—
Constellations burning larger, mellow moons and happy skies,
we give a very different effect to the words larger and constellations ; whilst in both cases the accent on mellow is comparatively slight. Whilst allowing to the catch, when of two or three syllables, a slight accent, we neglect it, in scansion, as compared with the heavier ones that follow.
In further illustration of the statement, that special stress is given to syllables by the use of rime-letters, I may draw attention to the fact that this is true in poetry that is by no means professedly alliterative. It was not by chance that Shakespeare wrote—
Full fathom five thy father lies ;—
Though thou the waters warp;
and the like; or that Gray wrote—
Ruin seize thee, ruthless king;—
Weave the warp and weave the woof,
The winding sheet of Edward’s race;
or that Pope chose the words—
Puffs, powders, patches, bibles, billets-doux;xxii	AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
where the absurd contrast between “ bibles ” and “ billets-doux” is much heightened by the fact that they begin with the same letter. It may be said that alliteration draws attention rather to the words themselves than to their initial syllables, but in English it comes to much the same thing, owing to our habit of throwing back the accent, and in English poetry, accent and alliteration go together ; or if not, the alliteration fails to strike the ear, and has but little effect. Hardly any alliterative effect is produced by the repetition of the w in Edward's in the above line from Gray. This is why the licence of beginning a soft syllable with a rime-letter is over-bold and almost ruinous. See Hyde Clarke’s English Grammar, pp. 137-145.1
All Anglo-Saxon poetry is alliterative, and very nearly all of it alliterative only, without any addition of rime whatever. This is by no means the casein Icelandic; their poets delighted in adding various complexities, such as full-rimes, half-rimes, line-rimes, and assonances. Space would fail me to discuss these here, nor is it necessary perhaps to do more than point out the very few examples of rime which are to be found in Anglo-Saxon.
There are some instances of full-rime in Caedmon, but they occur in words close together, and in the same short line, as in the lines “ gleam and dreamf e( wide and side," &c.; they are found also in other poems, as “frodne and godne ” in the “ Traveller’s Song,” “ Icenne and scenne ” in “ Alfred’s Metres, &c.: see Guest, vol. i. p. 126, &c. There are also half-rimes, as in “ sar and sorge," “his bod& beod&n,” &c. The most curious example is in the Eiming Poem in the Exeter MS.,
1 Compare—	Nein! Seufzen nur und Stöhnen und
tv<f>\bs rd t1 II a>ra r&v re vovv rd t’ ofifiar*	scheuer Sklavenschritt.
eir (Sophocles, (Ed. Col. 371.)	(Uhland, Des ß'ängers Fluch.)
Neu patrise validas in viscera vertite But minds of mortall men are mucheil vires. (Virgil, 2En. vi. 833.)	mard
II pietoso pastor pianse al suo pianto. And mov’d amisse with massy mucks (Tasso, G. L. vii. 16.)	unmeet regard.
.... nie Saite noch Gesang,	(Spencer, F. Q. iii. 10, 31.)AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
XX111
which is written in rime throughout, the alliteration being mostly preserved at the same time, as in
wic ofer wongum, wennan gongum; lisse mid longum, leoma getongum.
(Codex Exoniensis, ed. Thorpe, p. 353.)
See also the most extraordinary lines in the same poem (p. 354), beginning
flah mah flitep, flan mon hwiteiS,
where there is indeed abundant proof that the Anglo-Saxons were acquainted with rime in its modern sense.
Other examples occur in the “Phoenix” (p. 198 of the same vol.) in the oft-quoted lines
ne) forstes ingest ne) fyres bluest, ne) hgegles hryre ne) hrimes dryre.
Of another curious example I shall speak presently.
The following notation may perhaps prove useful for marking the scansion of Anglo-Saxon and Early English alliterative poems. If we denote a Tone by T, a Tonic by £, a Dominant by d> and a catch by a line (—), it is easy to represent the scansion of Cædmon, to the extent of any number of lines, by putting a comma at the end of a line, and the mark | at thé end of a couplet. The poem begins thus :
Us is) riht micel
J?æt we) rôdera wéard wéreda wûldor-cining wôrdum hérigen, môdum lufien ;
he is) mgegna spéd, heàfod eâlra heâh-gesceâfta.1
Por nS it is very right
That we the heaven’s Warden, The (Hory-King of hosts,
With (our) words should praise, With (our) minds should love ;
He is of powers the Speed,
The Head of aU High-created (ones).
1 The accents merely mark stress; I am obliged here to ignore the usual
system of accents which regulates the length of the vowels.XXIV
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
The scansion is as follows :
— T t, — dT|dtt,td|td, — t T | 11,11 | .
I have no space here to discuss Caedmon’s “ longer rhythms.” I cannot see that they present any difficulty. The lines have more feet in them, and that is all. Commonly, these lines have four feet, whereas the more usual length is just half this, or of two feet.
With some slight modifications, the same method is applicable to the scansion of all other existing English poems that are written in alliterative verse. It will be found upon comparison that the one striking and chief point of difference between Anglo-Saxon poems, as Caedmon’s, and Early English poems, as Piers Plowman, is this, that whereas Caedmon’s poem abounds in tonics*, and has the tonic foot as its base and foundation (the dominant being merely a variation of it), Piers Plowman is the exact contrary, and its base is the dominant foot, for which the tonic is occasionally employed. Beyond this there is very little difference, excepting that in the later poems there is, as might be expected, a freer and more frequent use of initial catches.
There has been much discussion as to whether alliterative poems should be printed in couplets of short lines, or in long lines comprising two sections. It is more a matter of convenience of typography than anything else; but if there be a choice, it is better to print the later (Old English) poems in long lines, as they are invariably so written in MSS., and it may be allowable to print the earlier (Anglo-Saxon) poems in short lines, because, though written as prose in the MSS., metrical dots occur very frequently (though seldom regularly), which are often not separated from each other by more than the length of a half-line.1 Even these, however, are sometimes
1 Such, at least, has been the usual from the usual method of printing practice with respect to Anglo-Saxon Icelandic poems. But it should be poems, the idea probably being taken noted that when such a poem as PiersAN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.	XXV
printed in long lines, and I believe this to be the least confusing; for nearly all those who have adopted short lines have forgotten to set bach the second line of the couplet (as should always be done), and then the eye of the reader cannot detect how the lines pair off.
In printing the later poems in long lines, the two parts of the couplet (which is now but one line) become sections, as before explained, and the pause which was formerly made at the end of the first [short] line becomes the middle pause, marked in the Scotish Feilde by a colon, and in Death and Liffe by an inverted full-stop. This pause was always made, there can be no doubt, in reciting such poems aloud, and in some manuscripts is carefully marked throughout by a dot, though others omit it. It is very essential to the harmony of the verse, .and is worth retaining, as it greatly assists the reader. It should be noted, also, that the second section of the verse is almost always the most carefully and smoothly written, and veiy rarely contains more than two feet, on which account it is often shorter than the first section. The greatest stress of all generally falls on the first loud syllable of this section (i.e. on the one commencing with the chief-letter) which is just what it should do. This stress is heightened in many instances by the introduction of a very short catch at the beginning of the second section, consisting of one soft and rapid syllable.
That this is the usual rule appears fi:om the following analyses of the catches beginning the second sections in the 109 lines of the Prologue to Piers Plowman:
Second sections without catches, 28.
With a one-syllable catch, 67.
With a catch of two syllables, 12.
Plowman is written as prose (as in MS. lias not been an utter and an unnecessary Digby 102), there is the same marking mistake, adopted rather because it hap-off into half-lines, and it may be ques- pened to be convenient than because any tioned whether the printing in half-lines good reason could be given for it.XXVI
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
With a catch of three syllables, 2; though there may be doubt about these; I refer to the lines,
That) Poul precheth of hem1 I dar not) preouen heere (1. 38);
and—
That heore) Parisch hath hen pore seththe the) P£stilence tyme (1. 81).
In 1. 104, the catch seems to contain the chief-letter. The line is—
Cookes and heore knaues cryen) hote pies, hote.
It should be observed further that the catch in the second section is very frequently modified by the way in which the first section terminates. If this ends in a Tone, a catch of one or two syllables is required for smoothness, to make up, as it were, a Tonic or a Dominant; if it ends in a Tonic, the catch should have but one syllable; if it ends in a Dominant, the catch should be dispensed with.2
The earliest alliterative poem after the Conquest is, perhaps, Layamon’s Brut In this poem, of which there are two copies that often do not agree as to the readings, rimes are continually found mixed up with the alliteration, without any preparation or warning to the reader, and the scansion of it has consequently caused some perplexity. To be sure of the right scansion, I think that most heed should be paid to such passages as stand the same in both MSS., and I fancy that instances may be
1	hem is here emphatic; see the context.
2	Modern poets learn this rule by the ear. Thus, in Lord Byron’s lines— Know ye the land where the cypress and
myrtle
Are) emblems of deeds that are done in their clime;
Where the) rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now) melt into softness, now madden to crime,
the words myrtle and turtle are succeeded by a catch of one syllable; but clime by one of two syllables. Let the reader change Are. into Are as, and Where the into The, and see how he likes it then ; the former of these changes is by no means pleasing. See this worked out in Edgar A. Poe’s essay on The Rationale of Verse, which, though very mad towards the conclusion, contains some good hints.AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
XXV11
detected in which the rime was superadded as an after-thought, either by the scribe or by the poet himself. The following lines occur at p. 165 of voi. i. of Sir F. Madden’s edition, in the second column :
He was) wis and war he) wélde thes riche
al) hit liine louede that) liuede on lónde,
which lines are clearly alliterative. But in the first column, i.e. in the other MS. copy, the first couplet is altered to—
he wes wis he wes fieir he wélde that riche hcer ;
where the word licer (here) is clearly inserted to make a rime, though neither the sense nor the rhythm require it. The variations between the two copies render it dangerous to theorize on the rhythm, though we may feel tolerably confident about the readings as far as the sense and the language are concerned. But it seems worth remark that there is an Anglo-Saxon poem of 20 couplets to be found in the Saxon Chronicle—the one to which I said I should have to refer again—which presents the same kind of mixture of alliteration and rime as is found in Layamon. It is on the death of iElfred, the son of iEthelred, and is entered in the Chronicle under the date 1036.1 One couplet is clearly rime—
sume hi man bènde sùme hi man blènde ;
whilst another is a fair alliterative specimen,
thset hi blission blithe mid Criste.
Most of the lines are still less regalar, but this poem exhibits, I believe, the nearest approach to Layamon’s rhythm that is to be found in Anglo-Saxon, and it is on this account that it seems worth while to mention it.
1 Grrein, Angelsachskche Bihliothek, voi. i. p. 357. See A.-S. Chron., ed. Thorpe, p. 294.XXV111
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
I now give a list of all the poems I have as yet met with that have been written as alliterative, yet without rime, since the Conquest. It is a very short one, but many of the poems are of great length, most of them are of importance, and they all possess considerable energy and vigour.
The oft-quoted statement of Chaucer, in the prologue to the 66 Persones Tale,” that alliterative metre was not familiar to a southern man, deserves notice. The best examples of the metre are to be found in poems written in the northern and western dialects. The example which seems to contain most southern forms is the “ Ploughmans Crede,” which must, however, have been written after Chaucer’s remark was made.
1.	Layamon’s Brut, about a.d. 1200. The author was a native of Ernley on Severn. There are two texts (MSS. Cotton ; Calig. A. ix,, and Otho, C. xiii.). Both of these were edited by Sir F. Madden for the Society of Antiquaries, in 1847, in 3 vols. 8vo. (Here, however, a considerable admixture of rime is occasionally found. It should be compared with the Bestiary ” from MS. Arundel 292, printed in Reliquiœ Antiques, vol. i.
p. 208.)
2.	Seinte Marherete, about A. d. 1200. See MSS. Eeg. 17. A.* xxvii., and BodJ. 34. This poem, as edited by Mr. Cockayne, was reissued by the E. E. T. S. (Early English Text Society) in 1866. The métré is tolerably regular.
3.	William of Paler ne, translated from the French by one William, at the request of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford, then residing at Gloucester, about A. d. 1360. The MS. is in King’s College, Cambridge, No. 13. It was printed by Sir F. Madden for the Boxburghe Club, 1832, 4to; and I am now preparing a reprint of this edition for the E. E. T. S.
4.	Alexander (A); a fragment originally written at about the same date, preserved in the Bodleian Library (MS. Greaves, 60), now being edited by myself for the E. E. T. S. in William of Paterne. (Sir F. Madden conjectures it to have been writtenAN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
XXIX
by the author of No. 3. A comparison of the language of the poems, lately made by myself, confirms this supposition.)
5.	The Vision of William concerning Piers the Plowman, together with Vita de Bowel, Bobet, and Bobest, by William Langland, said to be a native of Cleobury Mortimer in Shropshire. Of this there are three texts at least. A. About A. d, 1362; MS. Vernon in the Bodleian, printed by Skeat for the E. E. T. S. (1867, 8vo), and collated with MS. Harl. 875 and several others. B. About 1366-67; first printed by Crowley in 1550, 4to. An excellent MS. in Trin. Coll. Camb., marked B. 15. 17, was printed by T. Wright (1842, 2 vols. 12mo). There are several other MSS., such as Laud 581, &c. Bb. A text slightly altered from B, and found in MS. Bodley 814, MS. Additional 10574, and MS. Cotton Calig. A. xi. Never printed. C. A little later than B. MS. Phillips 8231, printed by Whitaker (1813, 4to) ; and in several other MSS.; as, e. g. MS. Vesp. B. xvi.
6.	Pierce the Ploughmans Grede, about a. d. 1394; first printed by R. Wolfe (1553,4to), and reprinted from his edition by Crowley, Whitaker, and T. Wright. MSS., still exist; one in Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 3. 15, and another in MS. Bibl. Reg. 18. B. xvii.. These are more correct than R. Wolfe’s printed copy, and the former has been lately printed by myself for the E. E. T. S. (1867, 8vo). The author is evidently the same as the author of the Plowman's Tale, which is inserted in some editions of Chaucer.
7.	The Beposition of Richard II. (a. d. 1399). A fragment only is known, existing in MS. Camb. Univ. Lib. LI. 4. 14; printed by T. Wright for the Camden Society (1838, 4to), and reprinted in Political Poems by the same editor. This is the only other poem that can be attributed to William Langland, and I think it quite probable that he wrote it. Mr. Wright, however, thinks differently, and the question requires much careful investigation.XXX
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
8.	Two poems* one on Cleanness, and a second on Patience, (MS. Cotton, Nero, A. x.), printed by E. Morris for the E.E.T.S. (1864, 8vo). The dialect is West-Midland, and Mr. Morris supposes it to be Lancashire. The MS. can scarcely be older than A. d. 1400.
9.	The Destruction of Jerusalem, called by Warton {History of English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 105; 1840) The Warres of the Jewes. MS. Cotton, Calig. A. ii.; MS. Camb. Univ. Lib. Mm. 5.14 ; and elsewhere. To be edited for the Early English Text Society.
10.	Morte Arthurs; about a.d. 1440. MS. in the Thornton volume at Lincoln, printed by Halliwell (1848, 8vo), and reprinted by Eev. Gr. Gk Perry for the E. E. T. S. (1865, 8vo). The scribe was archdeacon of Bedford in the church of Lincoln, though a native of Yorkshire.
11.	Alexander (B and C). There are two fragments, one (C) preserved in MS. Ashmole 44 and MS. Dublin D. 4. 12, the other (B) in MS. Bodley 2464. Both were printed by Stevenson for the Eoxburghe Club (1849, 4to). The fragment C has traces of a northern dialect, and is about A.d. 1450. But the other is much older (probably before 1400), and its language approaches that of fragment A (No. 4), though I hardly think they belong to the same poem.
12.	The Destruction of Troy, translated from Guido de Colonna; an edition is now being prepared for the E. E. T. S., to be published in 1868. The dialect is certainly of a Northern tendency. The MS. is in the Hunterian museum at Grlasgow, numbered S. 4. 14. I have observed a line in it (1. 1248) which almost entirely coincides with 1. 4212 in the Morte Arthurs, and other indications show some connection between the two. Either they are by the same author, or one is imitated from the other. The Morte Arthurs seems superior to the Troy poem, which makes the former supposition doubtful; but this point will no doubt be settled when the edition of theAN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
XXXI
latter poem which is now being prepared for the E. E. T. S. shall have been printed,
13. A poem of 146 lines, beginning—
Crist crowned king, that on Cros didest;
of which 27 lines are quoted by Bishop Percy (Rel. v. ii. p. 312; from 5th ed.) a small 4to. MS. in private hands. It is a pity he did not quote the remaining 119 lines at the same time. He conjectures it to be of the reign of Henry V.
414. Chevelere Assigne, or the Knight of the Swan; temp. Henry VI.; ed. Utterson (Roxburghe Club), 1820. A short poem of 370 lines, contained in MS. Cotton Calig. A. ii., the same, be it observed, as contains a copy of No. 9. The editor draws attention to its having a few rimed endings, but the author clearly did not regard them as essential. The following list comprises all of them: where, there (12, 13); lene, tweyne (28, 29); were> there (31, 32); swyde, leyde (158, 159); faste, caste (166, 167) ; swanes, cheynes (198, 199, and again at 350, 351); were, mysfare (237,238); mysharrye, marye (260, 261). There are also several assonances, such as wenden, lenger (302, 303). The following is a specimen to show the effect of the superadded rime:
And it) wexedde in my h6nde &) wellede so faste,
That I) toke the other tyue,
&) fro the fyer cast A	*
It is a faulty specimen of verse, upon the whole ; the alliteration is not always well kept up, and many of the lines halt, as does the fourth line of these here quoted; unless, indeed, we alter the whole system of accents, putting three Tonics in every line, not counting the catches.
15. A fragment of a poem, not in very regular rhythm, about Thomas Becket, beginning—
Thomas takes the juelle, & Jhesu thankes.
It is printed in the Appendix to Lancelot dw Lac, ed. Stevenson (Maitland Club), 1839.xxxii	AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
In the same Appendix is another short poem in this rhythm, not very regular. It begins with the line—
When Rome is removyde into Inglande.
Of another poem we find the first line in the preface:
Quhen the koke in the northe halows his nest.
All three poems are from MS. Univ. Lib. Camb. Kk. 1. 5. the same MS. that contains Lancelot of the Laih in Lowland Scotch.
16.	The Tua Maryit Women and the Wedo; by William Dunbar, about A.d. 1500; see Dunbar’s works, ed. D. Laing, vol. i. p. 61. Conybeare quotes from this in his Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. lxxii.; and shows how the author sometimes kept up the same rime-letter throughout two couplets, as in the following:
Silver SHouris down SHook as the) SHeen cristal,
and) birdis SHouted in the SHaw	‘
with their) SHrill notis ; the) Golden Glittering GL^am so) GLaddened their heartis, they) made a GLorious GLee among the) GR£en boughis.
17.	Death and Life; printed in the present work, probably by the author of No. 18.
18.	Scotish Feilde; printed in the present work, vol. i. p. 199, written about a.d. 1513, by one of the family of the Leghs of Baguleigh in Cheshire.
19.	Ancient Scottish Prophecies, reprinted by the Bannatyne Club, 1833 ; some of them having been printed by Waldegrave, 1603. The alliteration is often imperfect, though some are perfectly according to rule, and may be cited as among the latest English specimens of this kind of verse.
Vpon) London Law a)-lone as I lay:—
Strineling that strait place a) strength of that lande:—AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.	XXxiii
Then a) chiftaine ynch6sen shal) choose for himselfe,
And) ride through the Realme
and) Roy shal he called. (See pp. 26, 31, 35.)
20.	I may add that the 66 Eeply of Friar Daw Topias ” and “Jack Upland” (see Wright’s Political Poems, vol. ii. pp. 16-114) are more or less alliterative, and without rime.
21.	There is yet at least one more poem, of which a fragment exists in the Vernon MS. fol. 403, and which must be older than A. d. 1400. I hardly know what it is (though it makes mention of the baptism of Vespasian) ; but I have already called attention to it in my “ Piers Plowman,” text A., p. xvii. note.
22.	See also two scraps printed in Reliquice Antiquee, vol. i. pp. 84, 240.
It was, in my opinion, a mere mistake, a superfluous exertion of human ingenuity, when rimes were regularly superadded to the alliteration, and the lines arranged in regular stanzas. Yet some of these gallant efforts possess great merit; I have no space for more than the names of some of the more important.1
1.	Songs on King Edward9s wars, by Laurence Minot, about A. d. 1352, in a northern dialect. They are not all founded on a basis of Dominants, and therefore not all of the type now under consideration.
2.	Sir Gawayne and the Grene Knigt, about a.d. 1530, ed. Sir F. Madden, 1839; re-ed. Morris (Early English Text Society), 1864.
3.	Golagros and Gawayne; and
4.	Awntyrs of Arthure; in the same vol. as Sir. F. Madden’s Gawayne.
1 Here, again, I am speaking of of writing such poems in English is English poetry, in which the addition very great, whence many of thespeci-of rime to alliteration makes the poet’s mens are rather short. A like objection work a dance in fetters. The difficulty does not apply to Icelandic poetry.
VOL. III.	bXXXIV
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
5.	“ Susanna and the Elders, or the Pistill of Susan; ” see Select Remains of Scottish Poetry, by D. Laing, 1822.
6.	Tail of Raul Coihear ; see the same work.
7.	“ Saint John the Evangelist,” printed in Religious Pieces, ed. Perry (Early English Text Society), 1867.
8.	The Bulce of the Howlat, by Sir R. de Holande, about a.d. 1455. Printed by Pinkerton, 1792; and for the Bannatyne Club, 1823.
9.	The prologue to book viii. of Grawain Douglas’s translation of the zEneid.
10.	See also three poems in the Reliq. Antiq. at p. 291 of vol. i., and pp. 7 and 19 of vol. ii.; and a fourth in Gruest’s Eng. Rhythms, vol. ii. p. 298.
In the above poems the longer lines are of the standard length, and have the true swing. Poems (such as those of William Audelay) in which alliteration abounds, but which are not of the true type, are very numerous.
These are all that I have noticed, though I dare say these lists are not altogether complete.
It may be interesting to observe that the alliterative rhythm is suitable for all Teutonic and Scandinavian languages. Examples from some old German dialects will be found in Conybeare’s Illustrations, at p. Ii. It is also the rhythm of the Heliand, an Old-Saxon poem of about a.d. 840. The best examples, both ancient and modern, are to be found in Icelandic, in which language they are all-abundant at the present day.
I have before remarked that, in Anglo-Saxon, the prevalent foot is a Tonic, but in Old English the prevalent one is a Dominant Something of this change may be observed in canto xxi. of Tegner’s Frithiofs Saga, written in Swedish in 1825 ; and doubtless any one writing in this metre in modern English would have to do the same, or would find it convenient to do so at the very least. Our older poems remind one of theAN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
XXXV
ringing of hammer-blows on an anvil, or the regular tramp of an army on the march ; our later ones have often the rapidity and impetuosity of a charge of cavalry, and a sound as of the galloping of horses. One special characteristic belongs equally to both, that it was evidently considered a beauty (and rightly so) to make every line, if possible, end with a Tonic, and not with a Tone or a Dominant. By forgetting to pronounce his final e’s, a modern reader is very apt to lose something of this effect; yet an analysis of the 109 lines in the prologue to the earliest version of Piers Plowman gives the following results:
Lines ending in a Tone, 7.
Lines ending in a Dominant, 1.
Lines about which there may be doubt, 21.
Lines certainly ending in a Tonic, 80.
That is, 73 per cent, at the very lowest computation, which is quite enough to give a very decided character to the verse.
This is the place to mention also an empirical rule, which is the result of my own observation. In verses beginning with such a common formula as “ He saide,” or “ And saide,” and the like, these words sometimes form no part of the verse whatever, not even belonging to the initial catch. We may well suppose that they were uttered in a lower tone by the reciter, who immediately after raised his voice to the loud pitch which he had to maintain in recitation, and proceeded to give the words of the speech which such a phrase introduced.
The same rule holds good for the words “ quoth he,” “quoth I,” &c., even in the middle of a line. This accounts for the greater length of lines wherein such phrases occur. I may instance the following :
“And seide—
Hedde I) loue of the kyng,
Inite wolde I recche.” (Pierp Plowman, A. iv. 51.)xxxvi	AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
“ Woltou) wedde this wommon—quod the kyng— gif) I' wol assente ? ” (Piers PI. A. iii. 113.)
I) was not wont to worche—quod a wastour—
git) wol I not biginne. (Piers PI. A. vii. 153.)
& sayd—
0) louelye liffe,
cease thou such wordes: (¡Death $ Life, 258.)
The usefulness of the rule consists in this : that the examples of it are rather numerous, especially in Piers Plowman.
Alliterative verse is well deserving of careful study and attention. Although not altogether confined to “ Gothic poetry ” —for it has been u employed by the Finlanders, and by several Oriental nations ”—it is a special characteristic of it.1 It is the prevailing measure in Icelandic and Anglo-Saxon, and appears in the Old Saxon of the Heliand, as well as in the song of “ Hildibrant and Hadubrant,” and in the “ Wessobrunn Prayer.”2 It has been employed by poets during some fifteen hundred years, and is employed still. Considering it as an English rhythm, we may fairly say that, at any rate when unfettered by rime, it is of a bold and vigorous character, and is marked also, in the later poems, by considerable rapidity. This characteristic, viz. of vigour, has been very generally conceded to it, but it has not often been credited with other merits which it possesses in quite an equal degree, when employed by a skilful writer. It has much versatility, and is as suitable for descriptions of scenery and for pathetic utterances as it is for vivid pictures of battle-scenes or even for theological disquisitions. See Mr. Perry’s preface to Morte Arthure, p. xi. Owing to a loss of many very convenient words of Anglo-Saxon origin, it would be found much more difficult to compose in it at the present day than formerly, besides the additional difficulty arising from a want of familiarity with it; for though the ear of a
1 Marsh, Lectures on English, 1st se- 2 Bosworth’s Anglo-Saxon Dictionary,
ries, p. 550.	pp. cxxiv, cxxvi.AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.	XXXvii
modern Englishman can perceive alliteration, it is not trained to perceive it at once, as readily as it does rimed endings. But the metre is in itself a good one, and might still be employed by us with effect if skilfully adapted to suitable subject-matter. The same not overwise energy that has been bestowed upon the attempt to naturalize hexameters, would have revived this metre long ago, and the gain would have been greater. The verses quoted above from Dunbar, though they are more loosely and irregularly written than they should be, are quite sufficient to show that something may be made of it, though I have nowhere seen any example of it in modern English except in a few lines of my own, some of which are quoted in the preface to Text A. of Piers Plowman.
There is yet one more point too important to be disregarded. It has often been remarked that the metre of Milton has so influenced English writers that many a passage in modern English prose presents a succession of nearly perfect blank verses. There are several such in Dickens’s Old Curiosity Shop. Now this suggests that alliterative verse may have influenced Old English prose in like manner. This is a point which has hardly ever been considered; but it might throw much light on the rhythm of such prose writings. The succession of dominants would introduce a remarkable rapidity, very different from the measured cadence, which is due to an imitation of Milton. There is an undoubted instance of the kind in one of Dan Jon Gaytrigg’s sermons, in Religious Pieces in Prose and Verse (ed. Perry, Early English Text Society). There the cadence is so evident that the scribe has in many places vjritten it as verse, and I can safely repeat what I have once before said, that it affords an example of “ the regular alliterative verse, perfect as regards accent, imperfect as regards alliteration; in fact, the very kind of metre into which the old Piers Plowman metre would '«naturally dege-XXXV iii	AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
nerate.” 1 It contains several perfect lines, alliteration and all, such as,
Writhe or wandreth, whethire so betyde.
Mr. Perry has remarked that he does not see his way to bringing the whole of the sermon into this form. But I am clear that I see mine, and I could easily show that, with a little close attention, very nearly the whole piece can be marked off into well-defined lines from one end to the other, though it occupies over thirteen pages. What makes me sure that this is no mere fancy, is that a similar attempt to mark off other prose pieces in the same volume failed signally. I could not find a single true line in a whole page of it, whilst in a page of the Sermon I found forty. Be this as it may, the hint is, I am sure, well worth attention.
A good example of this rhythmical prose, founded on alliterative, verse at its base, appears even in Anglo-Saxon times. The prologue to the A.-S. version of “ St. Basil’s Advice to a Spiritual Son,” was marked as verse by Hickes; but its latest editor, Mr. Norman, remarks that “although not in verse, it (like some of the Homilies, as for instance that of St. Cuth-bert, &c.) may be said to be a sort of alliterative prose.” I should add that the prologue is not the only part of it to which the remark applies. I propose for it the name of Semi-alliterative Rhythmical Prose, for it is marked rather by the want of alliteration than by its presence, the rhythm and length of the lines being at the same time well preserved. Or it may be termed, with almost equal fitness, Imperfect Alliterative Verse, as it is open to any one to call it bad verse instead of good prose. I think that good prose is the fairer title of the two. .
For the help of the student who wishes to see more of this subject, or to form judgments about it for himself, I subjoin the following references:
1 Religious Pieces, ed. Perry, p. vi. of Preface.AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
XXXIX
Guest, History of English Rhythms, vol. i. p. 142, &e.
Rask, Anglo-Saxon Grammar, tr. by Thorpe, 1830, p. 135.
Conybeare, Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. xxxvi., &c.
Marsh, Lectures on English, 1st series, p. 546.
Craik, Hist. Eng. Literature, i. 243.
Whitaker, Preface to Piers Ploivman.
Professor Morley, English Writers, i. 264.
Percy, Reliques, ii. 298, 5th ed.1
Vernon, Anglo-Saxon Guide, p. 135.
. Warton’s History of English Poetry, vol. ii.
Hyde Clarke’s English Grammar, p. 137.
I may also refer him to further remarks of my own, at the end of Mr. Perm’s edition of Morte Arthure, and in my edition of Piers Ploivman, Text A. preface p. xxx.; also to my essay on the versification of Chaucer, at the end of the preface to the Aldine edition, as edited by Mr. Richard Morris (Bell and Daldy, 1865). On the more general subject of English metre, see Gruest’s English Rhythms; a Treatise on Versification, by E. W. Evans; and the excellent essay by W. Mitford, called An Inquiry into the Principles of Harmony in Language, and of the Mechanism of Verse, 2nd ed. 1804.
1 The reader must be warned against three extraordinary misstatements in this essay, following close upon one another near the end of it. These are (1) that Robert of Gloucester wrote in anapaestic verse, whereas he wrote in the long Alexandrine verse, containing (when perfect) six Returns; (2) that the French alone have retained this old Gothic metre [the twelve-syllabled Alexandrine] for their serious poems, whereas we may be sure that Michael Drayton, the author of the Folyolbion, meant his poem seriously; and (3) that the cadence of Piers Plowman “ so exactly resembles the French Alexandrine, that I believe no peculiarities of their versification can be produced which cannot be exactly matched
in the alliterative metre.” This is indeed a curious craze, for the alliterative metre is founded on Dominants, the Alexandrine on Returns. Percy gives some examples, and the metre which he selects for murdering is the French one, as the reader may easily judge for himself, when he finds that the line
Le sficces ffit toujours | fin enfant de l’afidace
is marked by him as it is marked here, and is supposed to consist of four Anapaests ! Y et one more blunder to be laid at the door of the “ Anapaests ” ! Would that we were well rid of them, and that the “ longs ” and “ shorts” were buried beside them !•xli
NOTES.
p. xxviii., Allit. Essay, Chaucer’s lines are:
But trusteth wel, I am a suthern man,
I can not geste, rim, ram, ruf, by letter.
v. iii. p. 202, 1. 42-3, ed. Morris.
p. 16, 1. 1, 2. Sir Degree. The Affleck MS. of this Eomance is not complete* It wants both beginning and ending, and a few other lines. Some of its deficiencies were supplied by Mr. Laing from the Cambridge University MS., which contains the first 602 lines of the romance. The Affleck MS. starts with
Kniijt...........................
Ferli fele wolde fonde
And sechen aventouris, bi ni3te and dai,
How 3he mijte here strengthe asai;
So did a Kny3t Sire Degarree,
Ich wille 30U telle wat man was he. and ends with—
“ Certes, Sire, (he saide,) nai;
Ac 3if hit your wille were,
To mi Moder we wende i-fere,
For sche is in gret mourning.”
“ Blethelich, (quath he,) bi Heuene King.”
From line 1070 to line 1115—the end—is printed by Mr. Laing in the Abbotsford Club Sir Degarre (as he gives notice) from a black-letter edition (Copland’s).
The Eomance has been printed five times in editions known to us, not four only as stated in p. 16,1. 6, for the edition printed by John Kynge, mentioned on p. 18 below, is noticed by Mr. Laing in these words: * Among Selden’s books in that [the Bodleian] Library, there is a copy of the edition printed at London by John King, in the year 1560, 4to, 16 leaves (Dibdin’s Typographical Antiquities, vol. iv. p. 338).” Further, Mr. Laing mentions that “ the late learned Archdeacon Todd, in his ‘ Illustrations of Grower and Chaucer,’1 has described a fragment on two leaves containing 160 lines of this Eomance, as forming part of a Manuscript supposed to be of the Fourteenth Century, now the property of the Earl of Ellesmere; but the volume, at present, is unfortunately not accessible.”
Mr. Laing also states that the Wynkyn de Worde 4to is in 18 leaves, and is described in Dibdin’s Typ. Ant. ii. 376 ; that the mutilated Douce transcript, apparently made from W. de Worde’s edition, is dated 1564;
1 Page 167, Lond. 1810, 8vo and 4to.xlii
NOTES.
and that Utterson reprinted Copland’s edition (probably about 1545) which is in the G-arrick collection in the British Museum.—F. p. 56,1. 11, “ noe truse can be taken,” i.e. no truce, no peace can be made:—
“ Could not take truce with the unruly spleen Of Tybalt deaf to peace.”
Shakespeare’s Borneo $ Juliet, iii. 1.
“ With my vex’d spirits I cannot take a truce.”
Shakespeare’s King John, iii. 1.—Dyce. The linking of treasure with truse makes me hold still that the two are like in kind, and that my note is right.—F.
p. 135, Thomas of Potte. Bitson printed another version in his Ancient Bongs, 1790, p. 248, from a large white letter sheet, published May 29, 1657; among the King’s pamphlets in the Museum. Its title is “The Two Constant Lovers in Scotland; or, a Pattern of True Love: expressed in this ensuing Dialogue, between an Earls daughter in Scotland, and a poor Serving-man; she refusing to marry the Lord Fenix, which her Father would force her to take ; but clave to her first love Tomey o’ the Pots. To a pleasant new tune.” A slightly different version of the present Ballad was printed in 1677, for F. Coles, T. Veve, J. Wright, and J. Clarke, and reprinted by Bitson in his Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry, 1791, with collations. Utterson had an undated edition printed by A. P. for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright. From this, collated with the 1677 ed., Mr. Hazlitt printed the Ballad in his Early Popular Poetry, ii. 251, with the heading, “ The Lovers Quarrel or Cupids Triumph. Being the Pleasant History of fair Bosamond of Scotland. This may be sung to the tune of Floras Farewel.” Bitson printed a different version of the tale in his Ancient Bongs, 1790. See other bibliographical details in Halliwell’s Notices of Popular English Histories, No. 15, p. 17, 18, and Hazlitt’s Early Popular Poetry, ii. 251-2. Compare the opinions of the deceased wife of The Knight of la-Tour Landry, ab. 1370 (p. 178-9, E. E. Text Soc. 1868) against her daughters marrying men of a lower degree than themselves: “I wylle not that they haue or take ony plesaunee of them that ben of lower estate or degrez than they be of; that is to wete, that no woman vnwedded shalle not sette her loue vpon no man of lower or lesse degree than she is of. . These whiche louen suche folke, done ageynste theyre worship and honoure. . I, theyr modyr, charge and deffende them that they take no playsaunce, ne that in no wyse sette theyr loue to none of lower degree then they be come of. . . Also they whiche putte and sette theyr loue on thre maner of folke, that is to wete, wedded men, prestes, and monkes, and as to seruauntes and folk of noughte, these maner of wymmen whiche take to theyr pera-mours and loue suche folke, I hold them of none extyme ne valewe, but that they be more gretter harlottes than they that ben dayly at the bordell. For many wymmen of the world done that synne of lechery but only for nede and pouerte, or els by cause they haue ben deceyued of hit by false counceylle of bawdes. But alle gentylle women whiche haue ynough to lyue on, the whiche make theyre peramours or louers suche maner of folke as before is sayd, it is by the grete ease wherin they be, and by the brennynge lecherye of theyr bodyes. For they knowe wel that, after the lawe of theyr maryage, they may not haue for theyr lordes, ne to be theyr husbondes, men of the chirche ne other of no valewe. This loue is not for to recouere ony worship, but alle dishonour and shame.”—F. p. 151. Thorne (Twysden’s X Bcriptores, e. 1786) is the earliest authority for the story told in this ballad. He brings his chronicle down to the end of the fourteenth century, but professes to base it on Sprot, who had written down to 1232, and whose work seems to have perished, though there is a spurious chronicle called Sprott’s.NOTES.
xliii
L Thorne points to Kent as the only county where the old English custom still prevailed. He probably alludes to the law of gavelkind or socage tenure, by which all the children shared equally. This was stipulated for by the citizens of London (Liber Albus, ed. Riley, ii. pp. 246, 247, 504), and undoubtedly prevailed in other parts of England besides Kent, but gradually died out before the growing use of primogeniture. Elton says (:Tenures of Kent, p. 50) that the body of Kentish usages as we now possess them was formally allowed in the 21st year of Edward I., also “The Kentish usage was not a mere partition as it has come to be in our time, but it was curiously mingled with a custom of borough English.”
As early as G-lanville’s time (lib. vii. cap. 3, v. 6) socage lands only went to the daughters, failing sons. But this, I think, was an innovation. See Goote on A Neglected Fact in English History, p. 57, and the authorities he cites.
II.	Eitz-Stephen says (Vita S. Thomce, p. 230), that by the custom of Kent, a man condemned for contempt of court pays a customary line of 40s. instead of 100s. as in London. This he ascribes to the burdens arising from its exposed position.
III.	There is a legal distich, which I, as a Kentish man, remember, but cannot give a reference for, “ The traitor to the bough, and his son to the plough,” implying that in cases of felony the lands of the felon did not escheat to the crown.
IV.	On the other hand, the claims of the county of Kent to be exempt from making presentments of Englishry was disallowed in 6 Edward II. and 7 Edward III. Yearbooks of Edward 30 and 31, ed. Horwood, p. xl. —C. H. Pearson.
p. 151, 1. 4; p. 153, 1. 35; p. 155, 1. 83, 94. The Consuetudines Canties or Customs of Kent, are given in the Record Commission Statutes, i. 223-5.
1.	that all the Bodies of Kentishmen be free, as well as the other free Bodies of England.
2.	they do not choose the King’s Escheator.
3.	they may give and sell lands without license asked of their Lords.
4.	they may plead by Writ of the King, or Pleint, for the obtaining of their right, as well of their Lords as of other Men.
5.	they ought not to come to the common Summonee of the Eire, but only by the Borsholder and four Men of the Borough.
6.	if attainted of Eelony, they lose their goods only, and their heirs shall take their* lands; whereupon it is said in Kentish ‘ the Father to the Boughe, and the Sonne to the Plough.’
7- a Felon’s Wife is dowable out of his lands, and the King shall not have the lands for a year, or wast them.
8.	a man’s lands are shared between all his sons, the messuage going to the youngest.
9.	a dead man’s goods shall be parted in 3 parts, 1 to pay his debts, 1 for his children equally, the third for the widow.
10.	an infant heir is taken charge of, not by the lord, but by his next of blood to whom the inheritance cannot descend.
11.	the heir is married, not by the lord, but by his own friends.
12.	the heir comes of age at 15 years.
13.	the widow has J her husband’s land for dower while she is chaste, and the widower \ his wife’s.
&c. &c.—E.
p. 174. The Nuttbrowne Maid. “ 1558-9. John Kynge ys fyned for that he didxliv
NOTES.
prynt the nutbrowne mayde wtout lycense, ij® yjd.” Collier's Registers, i. 16. See the note there.
p. 177, 1. 1, notes, for i tshalle read it shalle.
p. 301, Cressus. See the “ cnrious ballad ” on “ Troylus & Cressyd,” from MS. Ash-mole, 48, fol. 120, in The Marriage of Wit Sf Wisdom, (Shaksp. Soc.) p. 102.
p. 374. Maudline. This ballad should have been divided into 4-line verses. It is printed also in Early Ballads, ed. R. Bell, 1856, p. 217.—E.
p. 402,1. 17. See Henry’s answer, August 12, 5th year of his reign, in Harl, MS. 787, leaf 58.—E.
p. 466, last line, p. 470, 1. 10. See the “ Articles of Enquiry for the Monastery of Walsingham,” in Harl. MS. 791, leaf 27.—E.
p. 473. There are several charters or grants by Gfodiva and Leofricus in Kemble’s Codex Diplomatics,s.—E.
p. 499, QueeneDido. 1564-5. A ballett intituled the Wanderynge pry nee. [Ho doubt the ballad printed by Percy (Reliques, iii. 244), under the title of “ Queen Dido,” and which Ritson, in closer adherence to the old printed copies, calls, “The Wandering Prince of Troy.” See Ancient Bongs, ii. 141, edit. 1829.] Collier’s Extracts.—F.
p. 541, The Egerton MS. gives the name of the writer (and not the copier, seemingly), of the JSege of Rone, thus :
Thys processe made Johan page,
Alle in raffe,1 and not in ryme,
By cause of space he hadde no tyme;
But whenne thys werre ys at A nende,
And he haue lyffe and space, he wylle hit a-mende,
They that haue hyrde thys redynge,
To hys blysse he tham brynge That for vs dyde vppon a tree Say Amen for Charyte, Amen!
Explicit y sege of Rone.—F.
1 Raff= refuse, a confused heap, a jumble. Here it means in lines jumbled together: see
Raffle in Wedgwood. Ryme would mean regular verses with properly rimed endings.—Skeat.Bishop |i>ercij’B jfolto ¿Wg>.
EalfaBS aitB Romances;.
M>k Catoltw t1
“ This old romantic tale,” says Percy, in his Introduction to the Sir Cauline of the Reliques5 “ was preserved in the Editor’s folio MS., but in so very defective and mutilated a condition (not from any chasm in the MS., but from great omission in the transcript, probably copied from the faulty recitation of some illiterate.minstrel), and the whole appeared so far short of the perfection it seemed to deserve, that the Editor was tempted to add several stanzas in the first part, and still more in the second, to connect and complete the story in the manner which appeared to him most interesting and affecting.”
The First Part of the Bishop’s version concludes with the triumphant return of Sir Cauline from his encounter with the Eldridge Knight, and the acceptance of his love by the King’s daughter. Ifc comprises the first 129 lines of the MS. copy; it consists of 189 lines. The Second Part has only one feature in common with the latter stanzas of the MS. copy, viz., the fight with the Giant. All its other incidents—the stolen interviews of the lovers, their interruption by the King, Sir Cauline’s
1 A strange romantic old song—very	-which will account for its being so cor-
defectiye & obscure. N.B. This seemes	rupted.—P.
to have been originally a Scotch Song:
VOL. III.
B2
SIK CAWLINE.
banishment, his reappearance in disguise, his death, her death— are the Bishop’s own production. Altogether, the MS. copy contains 201 lines; that in the Reliques 392. These additional stanzas show, indeed, an extensive acquaintance with old balladry, and a considerable talent of imitation, Percy could write such mimicries with a fatal facility, “ stans pede in uno.” Of his capacity in this respect there is no better instance than his Sir Cauline. For our part we prefer the Folio copy, with all its roughness and imperfections, to the Bishop’s revision, with all its cleverness. Ever so few gold-grains are more precious than heaps of tinsel. If one touch of nature makes the whole world kin, one touch of affectation mars and dissolves that universal kinsman ship. Percy’s version abounds in affectations. The general sense of unreality that pervades his interpolations and additions reaches its climax in the concluding passage of his Second Part, where Sir Cauline, wounded to his death in his fight with the Soldan, is recognised by his lady.
It is my life, my lord, she sayes,
And shriekte and swound awaye.
Sir Cauline juste lifte up his eyes When he heard his ladye crye,
0 ladye, I am thine owne true love,
For thee I wisht to dye.
Then giving her one partinge looke,
He closed his eyes in death e,
Ere Christahelle, that ladye milde, Began© to drawe her breathe.
But when she found her cornelye knighte Indeed was dead and gone,
Shee layde her pale cold cheeke to his, And thus she made her moane.
0 staye, my deare and onlye lord,
For mee thy faithfulle feere;
’Tis meet that I shold followe thee,
Who hast bought my love soe deare.SIR CAWLINE.
3
Then fayntinge in a deadlye swoune,
And with a deepe-fette sighe,
That burst© her gentle hearte in twayne,
Fay re Christabelle did dye.
As Mr. Furnivall in his original Proposal for the publication of the Folio said, “ With a true instinct Professor Child remarked in his Ballads (ed. 1861, vol. iii. p. 172), “It is difficult to believe that this charming romance had so tragic and so sentimental a conclusion.”
However, the Bishop understood and served his generation.
The story of the fight with the Eldridge Knight is told in the Scotch ballad of King Malcolm and Sir Colvin, given by Buchan in his Ballads of the North of Scotland (copied by Professor Child). But there can be little doubt that this is one of that collector’s many fabrications.
XeSUS : lord mickle of might,1 that dyed ffor vs on the roode to maintaine vs in all onr right, that lones 2 true English blood.	
ffor by 3 a Knight I say my song, was bold & finii hardyè ; $£r Robert Briuse wold fiorth to flight in-to Ireland ouer the sea ;	I’ll sing you a song of
& in that land dwells a king which. ouer all does beare the bell,	an Irish, knight,
& -mth him there dwelled a curteous 'Knight,
12 men call him Sir Cawline.	Sir Cawiine,
1	For the first four stanzas Percy has in the Beliques these two :
The First Part.
In Ireland, ferr over the sea,
There dwelleth a bonnye kinge;
And with him a yong and comlye knighte, Men call him syr Cauline.
The kinge had a ladye to his daughter, In fashyon she hath no peere;
And princely wightes that ladye wooed To be theyr wedded feere.—F.
2	love.—P.
3	of.—P.4
SIR CAWLINE.
who loved a	Ajid lie hath a Ladye to his daughter,	[page 369]
daufhter[ely	of ffashyon shee hath noe peere ;
Knights & lordes they woed her both,
16 trusted to haue beene her peered
but durst not disclose his love,
Srr Cawline loues her best of one,1 2 but nothing durst hee say to discreeue 3 his councell to noe man, 20 but deerlye loued this mayd.4
and had at last to take to his bed,
till itt beffell vpon a day,5 great dill6 to him was dight; the may dens loue remoued his mind, 24 to care bed went the Knight;
& one while he spread his armes him ffroe,
*	7 & cryed soe pittyouslye
“ ffor the may dens loue that I haue most minde,
and declares 28 this day may comfort mee, heshouid	or else er0 noone 8 j ghaibe dead ! 9 ”
thus can SA* Cawline say.
when our parish masse that itt10 was done,
Just before
dinner,	32	& our 11 king1 was bowne to dine,
the King	°
asks for him,	lie sayes, “where is Sir Cawline
that was wont to serue me wrfch ale & wine P 12
1	perhaps fere.—P. peere is equal, mate, match.—F.
2	All, or any.—P. loveth her best of all.—Eel.
3	discreeve, discribe, discover. Chauc. forte, diskevere.—P. He discreeve.— Eel.
4	he lovde this may.—Eel.
5	on a daye it so beffell.—Eel.
6	grief. A.-S. deol, deceit, trouble ?—F.
7	For the next five lines Eel. has three :
One while he spred them nye :
And aye ! but I winne that ladyes love, For dole now I mun dye.
8	Only half the second n in the MS.
—F.
9	This was the usual resource of lovesick knights. Compare Sir Gtenerides, p. 237, and Will Stewart below.—F;
10	And whan our parish-masse.—Eel.
11	Our.—Eel.
12	That is wont to serve the wyne.—Eel.SIR CAWLINE.
5
but then answered a curteous 'K.night	ana is told
36 ffast wringinge his hands,1	very m.S
“ Sir Cawlines sicke, & like to be dead without and a good leedginge.2 ”
“ ffeitch yee 3 4 downe my daughter deere,	The Eing
40 shee is a Leeche hull ffine4;	daughter to
I, and take you doe 5 & the baken bread,	cawline,
and eene 6 * on1 the wine soe red,8 & looke no day[n]tinesse ffor him to deare,
44 for hull loth I wold him teene.9 ”
this Ladye is gone to his chamber,10	she goes to
her maydens hollowing ISTye,
“ 0 well,” shee sayth, “how doth my Lord ? ”	asks how
°.	**	Le is,
48	“0 sicke ! ” againe saith hee.11
“ I, but rise vp wightlye, man, for	shame !	and tells him
’	r	& j ?	?	not to lie
neuer lye soe cowardlye here 12 I	there like a
*	%	d	coward.
itt13 is told in my ffaihers hall,
52 ffor my loue you will dye.14 ”
“ itt is ffor your Loue, ffayre Ladye,15 that all this dill I drye. ffor if you wold comfort me with a Kisse,16
He says he’s in love wit her;
if she’ll kiss
1	fast his hands wringing.—P.
2	leechinge; to Leche is to heal, cure. Lye.—P. Leedginge is from the Fr. cdleger, to ctsswage, mitigate, allay, solace. Cotgrave. This stanza is in Bel.:
Then aunswerde him a courteous knighte,
And fast his handes gan wringe:
Syr Cauline is sicke, and like to dye
Without a good leechinge.—F.
3	Fetche me.—Bel.
4	Cp. Loospaine in Eger $ Grime, yol. i. p. 362-3, p. 393.—F.
5	Goe take him doughe.—Bel. An
odd misreading of Percy’s. The & is
redundant (as it so often is), and doe is
the auxiliary verb.—F.
6	? MS. edne.—F.
7	And serve him with.—Bel.
8	the red wine.—P.
9	Lothe I were him to tine.—Bel.
10	Fair Christabelle to his chaumber goes.—Bel.
11	thou fayr ladye.—Bel.
12	here delend [as in Bel.].—P, ? here soe cowardlye lye.—F.
13	For it.—Bel.
14	You dye for loue of mee.—Bel.
15	Fayre ladye, it is for your love.— Bel.
10 Compare Sir Generides again, p. 238.6
SIE CAWLINE.
Mm he’ll get up.
56 then were I brought ffrom bale to blisse; noe 1 longer here 2 wold I lye.”
3 “ alas ! soe well yon know, S?‘r knight,
I cannott bee your peere.”
60	“ ffor some deeds of armes ffaine wold I doe
to be youT Bacheeleere.4 ”
unless he’ll	“ vpon Eldrige hill there Crowes 5 a thorne
watch all	°	°
night by	vpon the mores brodinge 6 ;
Eldridge	r	.	.	&
mil>	64	& wold yon,7 Sir Knight, wake there all night
to day of the other 8 Morninge 9 ?
and fight the
Eldridge
King.
“ffor the Eldrige Kmg that is10 mickle of Might will examine yon beforne ;
68	& there was nener man that bare his liffe away
since the day that I was borne.11 ”
This, Sir Cawline undertakes,
“ bnt I will ffor your sake, ffaire Ladye, walke on the bents [soe] 12 browne,13 72	& lie either bring yon a readye token
or lie nener come to yon againe.14 ”
Again, when Sir Grenerides is expecting death:
The flesh wasted fro the boon,
He was so feble he might not goon,
In him was noon hope of life: (p. 304^
his love, Clarionas, comes to kiss him, and at once
So glad he was of hir comyng,
Of his euel he felt no-thing ; •
He kist and dipt w«th al his might,
And kept hir in his armes al that night.
(p. 308.)—F.
1 ? MS. now.—F. 2 Ho lenger.—Bel. 3 For the next stanza Rel. has :
Syr knighte, my father is a kinge,
I am his onlye heire;
Alas! and well yon knowe, syr knighte,
I never can be youre fere.
0 ladj^e, thou, art a kinges daughter,
And I am not thy peere,
But let me doe some deedes of armes To be your bacheleere.
Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe, My bacheleere to bee,
(But ever and aye my heart wold rue, Giff harm shold happe to thee,)
4 knight.—P.	5 groweth.—Rel.
6 brode, to prick. Gr.B.—P. ? breadth, cp. 1. 76.—F.	7 dare ye.—Rel.
8	Untili the fayre.—Rel.
9	id est, till Hay of the next Morning.
10	knighte, so.—Rel.
11	And never man bare life awaye,
But he did him scath and scorne. —Rel. '	12 Cp. 1. 81.—F.
13	That knighte he is a foul paynim,
And large of limb and bone ;
And but if heaven may be thy speede Thy life it is but gone.
Howe on the Eldridge hilles lie walke,
For thy sake, faire ladìe.—Rel.
14	never more you see.—Rel.SIR CAWLINE.
but this Ladye is gone to her Chamber,1 her Maydens ffollowing bright;
76	& Bit Cawlins gone to the mores soe broad,2
ffor to wake there all night.
vnto midnight they 3 Moone did rise,	At midnight
he walked vp and downe,
80	& a lightsome bugle then 4 heard he blow	tUbugie
ouer the bents soe browne. saies hee, “ and if cryance 5 come vntill6 my hart,
I am ffarr ffrom any good towne 7 ; ”
84	& he spyed ene a litle him by,8
a ffuryous King 9 & a10 ffell,
& a 11 ladye bright his brydle led, that seemlye itt was to see 12;
he sees a furious king,
88	& soe fast hee called ypon 13 Sm* Cawline,	who warns
4 4 Oh man, I redd thee ffiye !	if he’s craven
he’ll die.
ffor if cryance come vntill14 thy hart,
I am a-feard least15 thou mun dye.”
92 he sayes, 44 [no] cryance comes to 16 my hart, nor ifaith I ffeare not thee 17 ; ffor because18 thou minged 19 not christ before,
Thee lesse me dreadeth thee.”	[pageB70]
1	The ladye is gone to her owne chaumbere.—Bel. .
2	Syr Cauline lope from care-bed
soone,
And to the Eldridge hills is gone.— Bel. Two bad lines for one good one. -P.
3	that the.—Bel.
4	Then a lightsome bugle.—Bel.
5	MS. cryamee. Fear, Old Fr. oriente, crainte.—F.
6	Quoth hee, If cryance come till.— Bel. -
7	My life it is but gone.—Bel. 1st ed.; printed right in the 2nd, with a note:
“ This line is restored from the folio MS.’’ —F.
8	And soone he spyde on the mores so broad.—--Bel.
9	knight: vide infra.—P.
10	wight and.—Bel.
11	A.—Bel.
12	Clad in a fay re kyrtfell.—Bel.
13	on.—Bel.
11 For but if cryance come till.—Bel.
15	I weene but.—Bel.
16	He sayth, ‘ No ’ cryance comes till. . —Bel.
17	in faith, I wyll not flee.—Bel.
18	For, cause.—Bel.
19	id est, mentionedst.—P.8
SIR CAWLINE.
Cawline charges the King.
Their spears break ;
they fight with swords.
96 but Sir Cawline he sbooke a speare, the 'King was bold, and abode1,
& the timber these 2 Children bore 2 soe soone in sunder slode,3 100 ffor they tooke & 4 2 good swords,
& they Lay den on good Loade.5
Cawline cuts off the King’s right hand.
but the Elridge King 6 was mickle of might, & stiffly to the ground did stand; 7 104 but Sir Cawline wHh an aukeward 8 stroke he brought him ffrom his hand,9 I, & fflying.ouer his head soe hye,10 ffell downe of11 12 that Lay land :
His Queen begs him to
spare her Lord,
108	12 & his lady stood a litle thereby,
ffast ringing her hands :
“for they maydens loue that you haue most meed, smyte you my Lord no more,
1	The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his
steed ;
Syr Cauline bold abode :
Then either shooke his trustye speare.—Bel.
2 bare.—Bel.	3 yode.—Bel.
4	“ & ” is often redundant: compare
line 120.—Dyce.
5	Then tooke they out theyr two good
swordes,
And layden on full faste,
Till helme and hawberke, mail and sheelde,
They all were well-nye brast.—Bel.
6	The Eldridge knight.—Bel.
7	And stiffe in stower did stande.— Bel.
8	a backward.—Bel.
9	smote off his right hand.—Bel.
10	That soone he with paine and lacke of bloud.—Bel.
11	on.—Bel.
12	Eor the next two stanzas Bel. has six:
Then up syr Cauline lift his brande All over his head so hyef*:
And here I sweare by the holy roode, Nowe, caytiffe, thou shaft dye.
Then up and came that ladye brighte, Easte wringing of her hande :
Eor the maydens love, that most you love,
Withold that deadlye brande.
Eor the mayoens love, that most you love,
Now smyte no more I praye ;
And aye whatever thou wilt, my lord, He shall thy hosts obaye.
Now sweare to mee, thou Eldridge knighte,
And here on this lay-land,
That thou wilt believe on Christ his laye, And therto plight thy hand:
And that thou never on Eldridge come To sporte, gamon, or playe:
And that thou here give up thy armes Until thy dying daye.
The Eldridge knighte gave up his armes With many a sorrowfulle sighe;
And sware to obey syr Caulines hest, Till the tyme that he shold dye.SIR CAWLINE.
9
112	“ & Heest neuer come vpon Eldrige [hill]
him to sport, gamon, or play,
& to meete noe man of middle1 earth,
& that Hues 2 on christs his lay.3 ”
and he’ll never fight Christian
116 but he then yp, and that Eldryge 'King 4 sett him in his sadle againe,5 & that Eldryge King 6 & his Ladye to their castle are they gone.7
120	8 & hee tooke then yp & that Eldryge sword
as hard as any fflynt,
The King
and Queen ride ofiE.
Cawline takes up his sword,
1	? MS. mildle\ or middle, with the left stroke of the first d dotted for i. On “ middle earth ” see note 4 p. 92, vol. i. —F.
2	leeyes, i.e. believes.—P.
3	lay, i. e. law.—P.
4	And he then up and the Eldridge knighte.—Bel.
5	anone.—Bel.
6	And the Eldridge knighte.—Bel.
7	gane.—Dyce.
8	Henceforth Percy has it all his own way, except in three stanzas. For the next six stanzas he has these thirty-six: Then he tooke up the bloudy hand,
That was so large of bone,
And on it he founde five ringes of gold Of knightes that had be slone.
Then he tooke up the Eldridge sworde, As hard as any flint;
And he tooke off those ringes five,
As bright as fyre and brent.
Home then pricked syr Cauline As light as leafe on tree:
I-wys he neither stint ne blanne,
Till he his ladye see.
Then downe he knelt upon his knee Before that lady gay:
0 ladye, I have bin on the Eldridge hills ; These tokens I bring away.
Now welcome, welcome, syr Cauline, Thrice welcome unto mee,
For now I perceive thou art a true knighte,
Of valour bolde and free.
0 ladye, I am thy own true knighte,
Thy hests for to obaye :
And mought I hope to winne thy love l— Ne more his tonge eolde saye.
The ladye blushed scarlette redde,
And fette a gentill sighe:
Alas ! syr knight how may this bee,
For my degree’s soe highe ?
But sith thou hast hight, thou comely youth,
To be my batchilere, lie promise if thee I may not wedde I will have none other fere.
Then shee held forthe her lilly-white hand
Towards that knighte so free:
He gave to it one gentill kisse,
His heart was brought from bale to blisse,
The teares sterte from his ee.
But keep my counsayl, syr Cauline,
Ne let no man it knowe ;
For and ever my father sholde it ken,
I wot he wolde us sloe.
From that daye forthe that ladye fayre Lovde syr Cauline the knighte:
From that daye forthe he only joyde Whan shee was in his sight.
Yea and oftentimes they mette Within a fayre arboure,
Where they in love and sweet daliaunce Past manye a pleasaunt houre.10
SIR CAWLINE.
rings and	& soe he did those rmges 5,
hand,
harder then nyer, and brent.
and gives 124 ffirst he presented to the Kings daughter his love.	they hand, & then they sword.
Part the Second.
Everye white will have its blacke,
And everye sweete its sowre :
This founde the ladye Christahelle In an nntimely howre.
For so it befelle as syr Cauline Was with that ladye faire,
The kinge her father walked forthe To take the evenyng aire :
And into the arboure as he went To rest his wearye feet,
He found his daughter and syr Cauline There sette in daliaunce sweet.
The kinge hee sterted forthe, I-wys,
And an angrye man was hee:
Howe, traytoure, thou shalt hange or drawe, And rewe shall thy ladle.
Then forthe syr Cauline he was ledde, And throwne in dungeon deepe:
And the ladye into a towre so hye,
There left to wayle and weepe.
The queene she was syr Caulines friend, And to the kinge sayd shee:
I praye you save syr Caulines life,
And let him banisht bee.
How, dame, that traitor shal be sent Across the salt sea fome :
But here I will make thee a band,
If ever he come within this land,
A foule deathe is his doome.
All woe-begone was that gentil knight To parte from his ladye ;
And many a time he sighed sore,
And cast a wistfulle eye :
Faire Christahelle, from thee to parte, Farre lever had I dye.
Faire Christahelle, that ladye bright, Was had forthe of the towre;
But ever shee droopeth in her minde,
As nipt by an ungentle winde Doth some faire lillye flowre.
And ever shee doth lament and weepe To tint her lover soe:
Syr Cauline, thou little think’st on mee, But I will still be true.
Manye a kinge, and manye a duke,
And lords of high degree,
Did sue to that fayre ladye of love;
But never shee wolde them nee.
When manye a day was past and gone, He comforte she colde finde,
The kynge proclaimed a tourneament, The * cheere his daughters mind:
And there came lords, and there came knights,
• Fro manye a farre country^,
To break a spere for theyr ladyes love Before that faire ladye.
And many a ladye there was sette In purple and in palle:
But faire Christahelle soe woe-begone Was the fay rest of them all.
Then manye a knighte was mickle of might
Before his ladye gaye ;
But a stranger wight, whom no man knewe,
He wan the prize eche daye.
His acton it was all of blacke,
His hewberke, and his sheelde,
He noe man wist whence he did come, He noe man knewe where he did gone, Whan they came out the feelde.
And now three days were prestlye past In feates of chivalrye,
When lo upon the fourth morninge A sorrowfulle sight they see,
A hugye giaunt stiffe and starke,
All foule of limbe and lere ;
Two goggling eyen like fire farden,
A mouthe from eare to eare.
Before him came a dwarfie full lowe, That waited on his knee,
* To. 2nd. edition.—P.SIR CAWLINE.
11
“ but a serrett1 buffett you haue him giuen, the King & the crowne !” shee sayd.
128 “I, but 34 2 stripes
comen beside the rood.” 3
& a Gy ant that was both stifle [&] strong, he lope now them amonge,
132	& ypon his squier 4 5 heads he bare,
vnmackley 5 made was hee.
& he dranke then on the Kings wine,
& hee put the cup in his sleeue ;
136	& all the trembled & were wan
ffbr feare he shold them greeffe.6
“lie tell thee mine Arrand, K mg” he sayes, “ mine errand what I doe heere;
140 ffbr I will bren thy temples hye, or lie haue thy daughter deere;
in, or else ypon, yond more soe brood thou shalt ffind mee a ppeare.7 ”
But he has more to do.
A five-headed giant
drinks the King’s wine,
and demands
his
daughter.
144 the King he turned him round about,	The King’s
in a great
(Lord, in his heart he 8 was woe !),	fright,
says, “ is there noe Knight of the 9 round table and asks this matter will yndergoe P	gift*for
And at his backe five heads he bare,
All wan and pale of blee.
Sir, quoth the dwarffe, and lonted lowe, Behold that hend Soldain !
Behold these heads I beare with me! They are kings which he hath slain.
The Eldridge knight is his own cousine, "Whom a knight of thine hath shent: And hee is come to avenge his wrong, And to thee, all thy knightes among, Defiance here hath sent.
But yette he will appease his wrath Thy daughters love to winne :
And but thou yeeldehim that fayre mayd, Thy halls and towers must brenne.
Thy head, syr king, must goe with mee; Or else thy daughter deere ;
Or else within these lists soe broad
Thou must finde him a peere.
1	? closed fist. Serre, to join closely. Halliwell. Er. serrer, to close .. force or presse neere together; to locke, shut or put up. Cotgrave. If a king’s daughter might talk slang, “ a shutting-up blow ” would just do here.—E.
2	Read “ four and thirty.”—E.
3	Some very great omission here.—P.
4	swire, neck. Percy turns the “squier” into a dwarf, with five dead kings’ heads at his back. But the Bishop knew what swire meant.—E.
5	unmackley, uneven, unequal, mis-
shapen. Makly is even, equal. G-. D. —P.	6 greeve.—P.
7	MS. appeare.—F. a peere.—P.
8	And in his heart.—Bel.
9	Is there never a knighte of my.—Bel.12
SIR CAWLINE.
and have his 148	1 “ I, & hee stall bane my broad Lands,
lands
& keepe them well bis liue ;
and	I and soe bee shall my daughter deere,
daughter.	7	.
to be bis weded wiffe.”
1 Percy composes again:
Is there never a knighte amongst yee all Will fight for my daughter and mee ? Whoever will fight yon grimme soldan, Eight fair his meede shall hee.
Por hee shall have my broad lay-lands, And of my crowne be heyre;
And he shall winne faire Christabelle To be his wedded fere.
But every knighte of his round table Bid stand both still and pale;
For whenever they lookt on the grim soldan,
It made their hearts to quail.
All woe-begone was that fayre ladye, When she sawe no helpe was nye:
She cast her thought on her owne true-love,
And the teares gusht from her' eye.
Up then sterte the stranger knighte, Sayd, Ladye, be not affrayd: lie fight for thee with this grimme soldan,
Thoughe he be unmacklye made.
And if thou wilt lend me the Eldridge sworde,
That lyeth within thy bowre,
I truste in Christe for to slay this fiende Thoughe he be stiff in stowre.
Groe fetch him downe the Eldridge sworde,
The kinge he cryde, with speede: Nowe heaven assist thee, courteous knighte;
My daughter is thy meede.
The gyaunt he stepped into the lists, And sayd, Awaye, awaye:
I sweare, as I am the hend soldan,
Thou lettest me here all daye.
Then forthe the stranger knight he came In his blacke armoure dight:
The ladye sighed a gentle sighe,
“ That this were my true knighte! ”
And nowe the gyaunt and knighte be mett
Within the lists soe broad;
And now with swordes soe sharpe of steele,
They gan to lay on load.
The soldan strucke the knighte a stroke, That made him reele asyde ;
Then woe-begone was that fayre ladye, And thrice she deeply sighde.
The soldan strucke a second stroke,
That made the bloude to flowe:
All pale and wan was that ladye fayre, And thrice she wept for woe.	0
The soldan strucke a third fell stroke, Which brought the knighte on his knee:
Sad sorrow pierced that ladyes heart, And she shriekt loud shreikings three.
The knighte he leapt upon his feete,
All recklesse of the pain:
Quoth hee, But heaven be now my speede, Or else I shall be slaine.
He grasped his sworde with mayne and mighte,
And spying a secrette part,
He drave it into the soldan’s syde,
And pierced him to the heart.
Then all the people gave a shoute,
Whan they sawe the soldan falle :
The ladye wept, and thanked Christ, That had reskewed her from thrall.
And nowe the kinge with all his barons Eose uppe from offe his seate,
And downe he stepped into the listes That curteous knighte to greete.
But he for payne and lacke of bloude Was fallen into a swounde,SIR CAWLINE.
13
152	& then stood yp S^r Cawline	sir Cawiine
his owne errand ffor to say :
“ ifaith,1 I wold to god, Su*,” sayd Sir Cawline, agrees to “ that Soldan I will assay.	G-fant.116
156	“ goe, ffeitch me downe my Eldrige sword,
ffor I woone itt att [a] ffray.”
“ hat away, away ! ” sayd the hend Soldan,
“ thou tarryest mee here all day ! ”
160 but the hend Soldan & Sir Cawline	He does so,
the ffought a summers day:
now has hee slaine that hend Soldan,	and slays
& brought his 5 heads away.	hlm’
164	& the Kang has betaken him his broade lands	The King
gives
& all his venison.2	Cawiine
all his lands,
u but take you too & jour Lands [soe] broad,	but cawiine
& brooke 3 them well yo^r liffe,
168 ffor you promised mee jour to be my weded wiffe.”
And there all walteringe in his gore,
Laye lifelesse on the gronnde.
Come downe, come downe, my daughter deare,
Thou art a leeche of skille ;
Farre lever had I lose halfe my landes, Than this good knighte sholde spille.
Downe then steppeth that fayre ladye,
To helpe him if she maye;
But when she did his beavere raise,
It is my life, my lord, she sayes,
And shriekte and swound awaye.
Sir Cauline juste lifte up his eyes When he heard his ladye crye,
0 ladye, I am thine owne true love,
For thee I wisht to dye.
Then giving her one partinge looke,
He closed his eyes in deathe,
daughter deere	daughter,
Ere Christabelle, that ladye milde, Begane to drawe her breathe.
But when she found her comelye knighte Indeed was dead and gone,
Shee layde her pale cold ehe eke to his, And thus she made her moane.
0 staye, my deare and onlye lord,
For mee thy faithfulle feere;
’Tis meet that I shold followe thee,
Who hast bought my love soe deare.
Then fayntinge in a deadlye swoune,
And with a deepe-fette sighe,
That bürste her gentle hearte in twayne, Fayre Christabelle did dye.
1 In faith.—P.
.. 2 all for his warryson, i.e. reward.
—P.
3 broke, i.e. enjoy.—P.14
SIE CAWLINE.
and the King
promises her to him at once.
Cawline
goes into a garden to pray,
where a steward
lets a lion out on him
weaponless.
He thrusts his cloak into the lion’s mouth till its heart bursts.
A watchman cries, “ Sir Cawline’s slain.”
His love swoons,
but Sir Cawline
says “ I am here,”
u now by my ffaith,” then sayes onr Kmy, 66 ffor that wee will not striffe;
172 ffor tbou shalt bane my daughter dere to be tby weded wiffe.”
tbe other morninge Sir Cawline rose by tbe dawning of tbe day,
176	& vntill a garden did be goe
bis Mattins ffor to say;
& that bespyed a ffalse steward—
a shames death that be might dye !—■
180	& be lett a lyon out of a bande,
Sir Cawline .ffor to teare ;
& be bad noe wepon him vpon, nor noe wepon did weare.
184 but bee tooke then bis Mantle of greene, into tbe Lyons mouth itt thrust; be held tbe Lyon soe sore to tbe wall till tbe Lyons hart did burst.1
188	& tbe watchmen cryed vpon tbe walls
& sayd, “ Sir Cawlines slaine! and with a beast is not ffull litle, a Lyon of Mickle mayne.”
192 then tbe "Kings daughter sbee ffell downe, “ for peerlesse is my payne! ”
“ 0 peace, my Lady ! ” sayes Sir Cawline, “ I baue bought tby loue ffull deere.
196	0 peace, my Lady ! ” sayes Sir Cawline,
“peace, Lady, ffor I am beere! ”
[page 371]
1 brast.—P.SIR CAWLINE.
15
then lie did marry this Km^s daughter ■with, gold & siluer bright,
200	& 15 sonnes this Ladye beere
to Sir Cawline the Knight.1
ffins.
marries her
and they have 15 sons.
1 N.B. I ventured to make great additions to this Fragment; of which I have given notice, to the header, in my ls.fc Vol. of Beliques &c.—P. The “ notice ” consists of Percy’s “it was necessary to supply several stanzas in the first part, & still more in the second, to connect & complete the story”; inverted commas to a but and No; his * * * at the end j and two notes that he has altered—slode, 1. 99, to yode, and aukeward, 1. 104, to backward.—P.
Between the first and second parts, Percy put in his second edition the following note:
*** In this conclusion of the First Part, and at the beginning of the Second,
the reader will observe a resemblance to the story of Sigismunda and Gtjiscard, as told by Boccace and Dryden: See the latter’s Description of the Lovers meeting in the Cave, and those beautiful lines, which contain a reflection so like this of our poet, “ everye white, &c. viz.
“ But as extremes are short of ill and good,
And tides at highest mark regorge their flood;
So Fate, that could no more improve their joy.
Took a malicious pleasure to destroy.
Tancred, who fondly loved, &c.”16
§*k Z&gm x
[In five Parts.—P.]
There are extant two complete MS. copies of this romance—one in the Anchinleck MS., one here at last printed from the Folio. Besides these, there are imperfect MS. copies, one in the Public Library of Cambridge (Ff. ii. 38), containing some 602 lines, one in the Douce Collection (MS. Selden, c. 39), containing some 352 lines in all. The romance has been four times printed —-by Wynkyn de Worde, by Copland, in Mr. Utterson’s Early Popular Poetry, and more recently for the Abbotsford Club.
Of all these copies, the earliest and the most perfect is that treasured in the Auchinleck MS., printed for the Abbotsford Club. Next in merit, so far as it goes, is the Cambridge copy. This opens as follows :
{From Camb.. Univ. MS. Ff. ii. 38,fol. 25.7 b.)
Lystenyb, lordynges gente & fre, y wyll yow tell of sir degare. knyjtes pat were some tyme in lande,
Far J?ey wolde tem-selfe fande To seke auenturs nyght & day,
How pat J?ey my3t >er strenkyth assay.
So dnd a knyght sir degare,
I schall yow telle what man was he.
In bretayne pe lasse j?er was a kynge,
Of grete power in all thynge ;
Styffeste in armoztr yndur schylde,
And moost doghtyest to fy3t in fylde;
For ther was none verament
That my3t in warre nor in famiament,
Nodar in Instyng for no thynge,
Hym owte of hys sadnll hrynge,
Nor owt of hys sterop hrynge hys fote;
[fol. 258] So stronge he was of hoone & blode.
There was an unique copy of Wynkyn de Worde’s edition sold at Heber’s sale. Probably the edition issued by Copland circ.SIR DEGREE.
17
1545, of which a copy is preserved in the British Museum, differed but slightly from that of the earlier printer. From one of these printed editions the Douce fragments would seem to have been transcribed; from one of these the following version, viciously executed, as indeed are generally the Percy folio versions. The correspondence of the three copies will be sufficiently illustrated by comparing the following two extracts together, and with verses 381-92 of the Folio version:
(From Copland’s Edition.)
Syr Degore stode in a studye than And thought he was a doughtie man And I am in my yonge hloud And I haue horse and armure good And as I trowe a full good steede I wyll assaye if I may sped©
And I may beare the kinge downe I maye be a man of great renowne And if that he me fel can There knoweth no body what I am Death or lyfe what so betide I wyll once against hym ryde Thus in the citie hys ynne he takes And resteth him and merye makes.
(lFrom Douce’s MS. 261 ,fol. 8.)
Syr Degore stode in study than And thought he was a doughtye man And I am in my younge bloode And I haue horse and armure good And as I trowe a full good steede I wyll assaye yf that I may spede
1 Douce’s MS. note in MS. 261 :
“ This MS. was purchased by some bookseller at the sale of the Fairfax library at Leeds Castle, in 1831.
“The MS. from which the metrical romance of Robert the Devil was printed by J. Herbert in 1798 was certainly written by the person who wrote the present MS., and illuminated with the same kind of rude drawings. He was probably a collector of metrical romances like the transcriber of Bishop Percy’s
celebrated MS., which was written about the time of Charles II. ; and there may be other volumes of the like nature as the present existing in obscure libraries, and even made up by the present transcriber.
“ Qy. what became of the MS. of Robert the Devil, which was successively in the possession of Mr. Eawlinson, Horace Walpole, Mr. Edwards of Pall Mall, Mr. Egerton, Mr. Allen, Mr. Caulfield, and ‘ Masterre Samuelle Irelande ’ ? ”
VOL. III.
C18
SIR DEGREE.
And yf I maye beare thè Kinge downe I maye be a man of greate renowne And yf that he me fall canne There knoweth no bodye what I am Death or lyfe what me betyde I wyll ones agaynste hym ryde Thns in thè cyttye hys ynne he takes And rested hym and myrry makes (So Ypon a daye thè Kinge he mette He kneled downe and fayre hym grette He sayde Syr Kinge of mnche myght My lorde hathe sent me to youe right To warne yone howe yt shalbe JMy lorde will come and iuste with thè ..................................)
The Auchinleck MS. narrates this same 66 study55 in this wise :
{From Abbotsford Club Copy.)
Sire Degarre thons thenche gan,
“ Ich am a staleworht man;
And of min owen Ich hane a stede,
Swerd, & spere, & riche wede ;
And pf Ich felle the Kyng adoun,
Euere Ich haue wonnen renoun.
And thei that he me harte sore,
No man wot wer Ich was bore;
Whether deth other lif me bitide A3en the King Ich wille ride.”
In the cite his in he taketh,
And resteth him & meri maketh.
No doubt many other copies, of various degrees of inferiority, were once in circulation. In the Registers of the Stationers’ Company (see Mr. Collier’s Extracts) occurs this entry :
Recevyd of John Kynge for his lycense for pryntinge of these copyes Lucas Yrialis, nyce wanton, impatiens poverte, the prond wyves pater noster, the Sqnyre of Low deggre, Syr deggre ; grannted the X of June 1560. ijs.
A sketch of the romance from Copland’s edition is given by Ellis in his Early English Metrical Romances, with all the ponderous facetiousness that characterises that work.SIR DEGREE.
19
The romance is certainly older than the middle of the fourteenth century, for that is the date at which the Auchinleck MS. was written. Warton (who gives a most inaccurate analysis of A, which is transcribed by the editor of the Abbotsford Club edition) conjectures that it may belong to the same century as the Squire of Low Degree and Sir Guy—that is, according to him, the thirteenth.
For the name, says the Auchinleck MS.:
Degarre nowt elles ne is But thing that- not never whar is 0 the thing that negth forlorn al so For thi the schild he nemmede thous tho.
The romance is, in our opinion, of more than ordinary merit. It possesses the singular charm of brevity and conciseness; does not impair or destroy its power by the endless diffuseness and prolixity which are the besetting disfigurements of that branch of literature to which it belongs. How often in romances does what bids fair to be a mighty river spread out vaguely into a marsh ! what should grow into a stately tree, end in a weak wild wanton luxuriance! This so common fault at least is avoided in this romance of Sir Degore. But there are other than negative merits. There is, indeed, no considerable novelty about the incidents introduced; a jealous father, a clandestine child-delivery, a fight between son and father (here between son and grandfather too), an unconsummated marriage between son and mother—these are persons and situations that were never wearied of by that simple audience for whose ears romances were designed. The romance-writer’s business was rather to re-dispose these than to cancel and supersede them. This work of rearrangement is well performed in the present case. The old figures are skilfully re-dressed and introduced; fresh lights are thrown upon their faces, fresh vigour is infused through their limbs.20
SIR DEGREE.
[The First Part.]
[How Sir Degree’s Father ravished a Princess, and begat him ; and how he was brought np by a Hermit.]
I’ll tell you a
tale of Sir Degree.
An English king,
feared in fight,
has a
beautiful
daughter.
She is wooed by well-born suitors,
Lobdings, & you. will hold you still, a gentle tale I will you tell, all of knights of this countrye 4 the wMch haue trauelled beyond the sea, as did a 'knight called S^r Degree, one of the best was ffound him before.1 that2 time in England dwelled a 'King,
8 a stout man in manners and all thinge, both in Armour and on the sheeld 3 he was much doubted in battell & in ffeild. there was noe man in verament 12 that lusted w^th him in turnament
that out of his stirropps might stirr his ffoote,
he was soe strong without doubt.
the King had no more Children but one,
16 a daughter white as whales bone 4 ; that mayd hee loued as his liffe ; her mother was dead, the Queene his wiffe ; in trauell of Chyld shee dyed, alas !
20	& when this mayd of age was,
Kings sonnes her wooed then,
Emperoures, Dukes, & other men, for to haue had her in Marryage 24 for loue of her great heritage.
1	then found was hee : sic leg™ metri gratia, but as Degree is occasionally written Degore, Pt. 2, 1. 303 [Pt. 3, 1. 483] it may perhaps have been so here.—P. The old edition reprinted by Utterson calls the hero “Sir Degore” throughout.—Skeat (who gives the various readings here).
2	what.—P.
3	in Shield.—P.
4	when first taken out of the fish it is
very white.—P. Strange that Percy should have supposed, as our earliest writers did, that the ivory of those days was made from the bones of the whale! It was, in fact, made from „the teeth of the walrus. The simile in the text is frequently found in much later poets; e.g. To show his teeth as white as whale's-hone.
Shakespeare’s Love's Labour's Lost, v. 2. —Dyce.SIR DEGREE.
21
but then they King he made answer,
*'‘ that -n.rn.er man hee shold wedd her with-out hee might w^th stout Iustinge 28 the King out of his sadle bringe, to make him loose his stirropps too. many one assayd, & cold not doe ; but euery yeere, as right itt wold,
32 a great ffeast the King did hold vpon his Queenes 1 mourning day, the which was buryed in an abbey, soe ypon a day the King wold ryde 36 vnto an abbey there besyde, to a dirges & masses 2 both, the pore to ffeed, & the naked to cloth, his owne daughter shee w&th him rode,
40	& in the fforrest shee still abode,
& sayd, ‘ downe shee must light, better her clothes to amend right.’ a-downe they be light all three 44 her damsells, & soe did shee.
a ffull long stond 3 they there abode till all they men away rode.
They gatt vp, & after they wold, [page 372] 48 but they cold not they right way hold ; the wood was roughe & thicke I-wis,
& they tooke their way all amisse. they rode south, they rode west,
52 vnto the thicke of that fforrest,
& vnto a bane 4 thé came att Last, then varryed they wonderous ffast,5
but none can win her
by unhorsing the King in a joust.
On the anniversary of his wife’s death, the King rides to an Abbey near to hear Mass and give alms.
His daughter
and her maids
dismount in the forest,
and then
cannot find their way out.
They stop at a glade,
1	Three strokes for the u.—F.
2	MS. masques; but see 1. 124, 125. —F.
To do diriges and masses bothe.—TJtt. To do dyryges & masses bothe.—Ff.
(Cambr. MS. Ff. ii. 38.)
3	space of time.—P.
4	perhaps Lane, see "Part 5, line 58. —P.
5	And into a lande they came at the
laste,
Then weried they wonder faste,—Utt. In-to a launde they are comen And haue ryght well vndwnomen.
—Ff.22
SIR DEGREE.
and all lie on the grass,
save the King’s daughter, who wanders off,
loses her way,
and fears she shall be
torn by wild beasts.
But then she sees a handsome knight,
who tells her that
he has long loved her, and she
ffor thé wist amisse they had gone,
56	& downe thé light enery one.
the wheather was hott affore none ;
thé wist not what was best ffor to hane done,
hut layd them downe vpon the greene.
60 some of them ffell on sleepe, as I weene,
& thus they fell on sleepe enerye one saning the 'Kings daughter alone,
& shee went fforth to gather fflowers 64	& to heare the song of the small ffowles.
soe long shee did fforth passe till thaï shee wist not where itt was. then can shee cry wonder on s sore,
68 shee weeped & wrange her hands thore,1 & sayes, “ alacke thaï I was borne ! her in 2 this fforrest I am fforlorne,
& wilde beasts will me rende 72 or 3 any man may mee ffind ! ”
they way to her damsells shee wold hane came, bnt shee wist not how to come.4 then shee was ware of a Ioyfull sight :
76 a-fore her there stood a ffayre Knighï thaï was wellfauored of ffoote & hand ; there [was] not snch a one in all the Land ;
& by the rich clothing thaï hee had on,
80 hee seemed to be a gentleman.5 soe stont a man then was hee, he sayes, “ Madam, god yee see ! be yee dread arright of nought ;
84 I hane noe armour w^th me brought, but I haue loued you this many a yeere,
& now thaï I haue ffound you here
1	there.—P.
2	MS. herin.—F.
3	before.—P.
4	The waye to her damosels she wolde . haue nome.—Utt.
To hur maydenys sehe wolde anone, But sehe wyste not whych wey to goon.—Ff.
5 gentlemon.—P.SIR DEGREE.
23
88
92
96
100
104
108
112
116
you shall bee my Lemman ere I goe,
•whether itt turnes to wayle or woe.1 ” but then no more adoe cold shee, but wept and cryed, and cold not fflee. anon he began her to behold,
& he did with her whatsoeuer hee wold,
& there hee bereft her of her maydenhead.2 & right before her the Knight stoode :
& hee sayes, u Madam gentle & ffree, now w^th child, Madam, I doe thinke you bee, & well I wott hee will be a knaue 3 ; therfore my good sword he shall haue, my sword heere vpon my hand, therewith the Last I did kill a Gyant,
& I brake the poynt of itt in his head,
& here in the iforrest I haue him Layd.4 take itt vp now, dame, ffor itt is heere ; thou speakes not with mee this many a yeere ; yett peraduenture they time may come that I may speake with my owne sonne,
& by this sword I may him ken.”
hee kist his loue, & went then ;
the knight passed as hee come.
all weeping the Ladye the sword vp name,5
& shee went fforth sore weeping,
& there shee ffound her mayds sleeping, shee hid the sword as well as shee might,
& called them vp anon-right,
& tooke 6 their horsses euerye one,
& began to ryde fforth anon, then they were ware att the Last, many a Knight came pricking ffast;
must now yield to him.
He then ravishes her,
tells her he has begotten a boy on her,
and leaves his sword with her for the boy
so that he may hereafter know him by it.
He then goes away.
The Princess takes his sword,
returns to her maids,
and they ride till they meet her father’s knights,
1	weale or woe.—P.
2	maydenhood.<—P.
3	A boy, a male child. So in Chanc.
4	? MS. Lqyd or Lqgd.—F. layd.—P. And in the felde I it lened.—Utt.
I brake the poynt in his hedd, Where-of y wot fat he was dedd.
—Ff.
5	name, nome, took; Sax. mman, to take.—P.
6	They took.—P.24
SIR DEGREE.
who lead them to the abbey.
After service
all ride home, and are merry.
The Princess grows big, and weeps often.
Her maiden asks her why she weeps.
She
confesses
that she is with child; and if it’s known,
her father will be accused of incest.
Her maiden says she’ll manage it all secretly.
ffrom they Kmg they were sent 120 to witt which, way his daughter went, they brought them into the right way,
& rodden ffayre vnto the Abbey, there was done service and all thinge,
124 with many a Masse, w^th rich offeringe ;
& when these masses were all done,
& come to passe the hye noone, the King to his pallace did ryde,
128 And much people by his syde,
& after, euery man was glad & blythe. this Ladye swooned many a sithe,1 & euer her belly waxed more & more;
132 shee weeped & wrang her hands hull sore, soe vpon a day shee can sore weepe,
& a mayd of hers tooke good heede 2 & said, 4 4 Madam, ffor Si Charytye,
136 why weepe yee soe sore ? tell itt mee ! ” ci may den, if I shold tell itt before, if thou shold mee beraye 3 I were but Lore ; ffor euer I haue beene meeke & mild,
140	& trulye now I am w&th chyld;
& if any man itt vnder-yeede, men wold tell in euerye steade 4 that mine owne ffather of mee itt wan,
144 ffor I neuer loued any other man.
& if my ffather he might know itt, such sorrow his hart wold gett that hee wold neuer merry bee,
148 ffor all his loue is Layde on mee.” u O gentle Lady, greeue itt nought; stilly itt shall bee fforth brought; there shall none know itt certainlye,
152 truly, Madam, but you and I.”
[page 373]
1	time.—P.
2	perhaps, keep.—P.
3	bewray.—P.
4	place.—P.SIR DEGREE.
25
the time was come that shee was vnbonnd,
& deliuered whole and sound, a ffayre man Chylde there was borne :
156 glad of itt was the Lady fforlorne. this mayd serued her att her will,
& layd the Child in a cradle,
& wrapped him in clothes anon,
160	& was ready till hane gone.
then was this Child to with mother hold 1 ; shee gane itt 20? in gold, and 10? in silner alsoe ;
164 ynder his head shee can itt doe ;
& much itt is that a Child behoues.2 with. itt shee giues a payre of glones,
& bade the child wed no wiffe in Lande 168 without those glones wold on her hand ;
& then the glones wold serne no where, saning the mother that did him beare. a letter wddi the Child pnt shee,
172 with. the glones alsoe perdye : then was itt in the Letter writt, whosoener itt fonnd, shold itt witt,—
1 ffor gods lone, if any good man 176 This litle Child ffind can,
gett him to be Christened of the preists hand, & helpe him ffor to line on Land w^'th this silner that is heare,
180 till the time that hee may armonre beare ;
& helpe him w^th his owne good, ffor hee is come of a gentle blood.’
& when that they had all this downe,3 184 the Mayd shee tooke her way right soone :
The Princess gives birth
to a boy,
who is put in a cradle
with 30?. under his head,
a pair of gloves, (the boy is to marry no girl unless they’ll fit her,)
and a letter
asking the finder
to have the boy
christened, and bring him up till he can fight.
Then the maiden carries the
1 to its—hold, i. e. held.—P.	$yt hys modur can hym beholde
Yet was the childe vnto the mother	And toke iiij pownde of golde.—Ff.
hold.—Utt.	2 is of use to.—P.
8 perhaps done.—P.26
SIR DEGREE.
boy and cradle
to a
hermit’s
door,
and leaves them there.
Next
morning
the hermit finds the
boy,
thanks
Christ,
christens the child
Sir Degree (t. i. almost lost),
w^th this Child in the cradle, and all thinge, shee stale away in an eueninge,
& went her way, & wist not where,
188 through thicke and thinn, & through bryar.1 then shee was readylye ware anon of an hermitage made in stone, a holy man that there was wooninge,2 192	& thither shee went without Leasinge.
& when shee came to the hermitts dore, shee sett the cradle there before,
& turned againe anon-right,
196	& came againe the same night.
the hermitt wakened in the morrow,
& eke his knaue 3 alsoe.
the Hermitt sayd, “ Lord, I crye thee mercye !
200 methinke I heare a younge chyld crye.” this holy man his dore yndid,
& Sound the Child in that stead, there he lift yp the sheete anon,
204	& looked on the litle groome 4 ;
then held he yp his right hand,5 & thanked Iesus christ in that stond,6 & bare the child into the Chappell.
208 ifor ioy of him hee wronge the bell,
And layd yp the gloues & the treasure, [page 374] & christened the child wrfch much honor,
& in the worshipp of the holy Trinytye 212 he called the childs name Sir Degree ; ifor Degree, to ynderstand I-wis, a thing that almost lost itt is ; as a thing that was almost lost agoe,7 216 therfore he called his name soe.
1 briqre.—P. Pronounced hr ere : see Levins, col. 209, 1. 15.—F..
2	dwelling.—P.
3	servant-boy.—P.
4	puer, famulus. Jun.—P. grome.— Utt. grome.—Pf.
5	honde.—P.
6	There is a tag at the end like an s. —F.
7	gone, past.—P. A JDegarer would no • doubt be formed from a Low-Latin devagciri, as deg aster from devas'tare.—F.SIR DEG1REE.
27
the Hermitt he was a holy man of liffe,
& he had a sister which was a wiffe,	and sends
him to his
& sent this child to her full raue 1	sister
220 w^th much mone by his knaue,
& bade that shee shold take good heede	tobesuckied.
the litle child to Nourish & ffeede.
224
228
232
236
240
this litle Chyld Degree,
vnto the Cytye borne was hee.
the goodman & the wiffe in ffere
kept the child as itt^their owne were
till the time 10? 1 2 winters were come & spent;
then to the hermitt they him sent.
the hermitt longed him to see ;
then was [he] a ffayre child & a ffree,
& he taught this child of clarkes Lore other 10 winters without more ;
& when hee was of 20 yeere, hee was a man of great power,3 a staleworth 4 man in euerye worke,
& of his time a well good clarke.5
then he tooke [him] his fflorence & his gloues
that he had kept ffrom [him] in his house,6
& gaue him his owne letter to reade.
hee looked there-in the same steade 7 ;
“hermitt,” hee sayd, “ffor St. Charytye,
was this letter made by 8 mee P ”
She brings the boy up
till he is 10 years old, and then sends him back to the hermit,
who teaches him till he’s 20,
then gives him his mother’s money, gloves, and letter,
1 rathe [in pencil] R C.—P. rathe
(=raue).—Utt. soon.—Pf. and grome for knane in 1. 220.	2 ten.—P.
3 powere.—P.	4 stout.—P.
5	And of his tyme,* a well good clerke.
—Utt.
And also of hys tyme, a gode clerke.
—Pf.
6	He toke hym hys tresure and hys
gloffe
That he had token to hys be-hoffe.
—Pf.
Utt. has no him in 1. 237, but has it in 1. 238.—Skeat.
7	He loked therin the same stede.f
—Utt.
And he behelde all that dede.—Pf.
8 about, concerning.—P.	Same in Utt. as in Percy. Was !>ys lettur wretyn for me ?—Pf.—Skeat.
* “ of hys time ” =for his time, for his day.—Skeat.
f “the same stede”=thereupon; lit. at the same place,=Fr. sur le champ.—Skeat.28
SIR DEGREE.
and tells him how he found him.
Degree thanks the hermit,
“ I, Sir” hee sayes, “ by him that mee deeme shall, 244 thus I you ffound ; ” and told him all. he sett him on his knees ffull blythe,
& thanked the hermitt often sythe;
& he gaue the hermitt hälfe of the golde ;
248	& the remnant vp did hee ffoulde.
[The Second Part.]
[How Degree kills a Dragon, and prepares to fight a King.]
and says he’ll search out his father,
armed only
with a good oak sapling.
Degree sets off through a forest,
^Then sayes Degree, “ I will not blinne 1 till I haue ffound my ffather or some of my kinne.1 ”
2? parte. <
256
260
264
268
“ to seeke thy kinne 1 thou mayst not endure without horsse or good armour.2 ” then sayd Degree, “ by St. Iohn, horsse nor harnesse lie haue none, but a good bitter 3 in my hand, mine enemyes therewith to withstand,
A full good sapline of an oke;
& home 4 therewith 1st sett a str[o]ke,— haue hee neuer soe good armour him on, or be hee neuer soe tall a man,5—
I shall him ffell to the ground wtth this same batt in that stond.” the Child kissed the hermitt thoe,6 & alsoe tooke his leaue to goe. fforth went Degree, the sooth to say, throughout a fforrest halfe a day; he heard noe man, nor saw none, till itt passed the hye noone;
1 MS. me for xme.—F.	4 on whom. The o of stroke in this
2 armoure.—P.	line is eaten out by ink.—F,
3 A.-S. bitely beetle.—F.	5 mon.—P.	6 then.—P.SIR DEGREE.
29
272
276
280
284
288
292
296
300
There is a One stroke
then heard hee great stroakes ffall that made great noyse w^thall. hull soone he thought that thing to see, to witt what the stroakes might bee. there was an Erie stout & gay was come thither that same day to hunt ffor a deere or a doe, but his hounds were gone him ffroe.
& there was a Dragon ffeirce and grim, ffull of ffyer & alsoe of venim, with a wyde throate, & tushes great, ypon the Erie can he beate;
& as a Lyon were his ffeete ;
his tayle was long & ffull vnmeete ;
betweene his head & his tayle
22 ffoote without ffayle.
his belly was like a whole tunn,
itt shone ffull bright againe the 1 ssunn.
His eyen as bright as any glasse, [page 375] his scales as hard as anye 2 brasse ;
& therto hee was necked like a horsse,
& bare his head vpp with great fforce ; hee was to looke on, as I you tell, as thoe hee had beene a ffeende of hell; many man hee had shent,3 & many a horsse hee had rent;
& to this Erie hard battell he began, but hee defended him like a man,
& boldlye stroke on him with his sword4; but of his. stroakes he was not affeard, ffor his skin was as hard as anye stone, where-ffore hee cold him noe harme done.
&} when the Erie degree see, he sayd “ helpe, ffor Charytye ! ”
and at noon hears a noise of blows.
He finds a grim dragon
24 feet long,
looking like a fiend of hell,
attacking an Earl.
The Earl calls on Degree to help him,
tag to the e.—F.	3 int. at. marred, spoiled, &c.—P.
too few in the MS.—P.	4 swerde.—P.30
SIR DEGREE.
and Degree
knocks the
dragon
down.
But it recovers,
and cuts
Degree
down.
For which
Degree smashes the dragon’s brains out.
The Earl
asks Degree to his palace,
knights him,
and offers him half his land
then answered Sir Degore,
304	“ gladlye ! ” he sayes, and god before.1
when the dragon of Degree bad a sight, hee left the Erie, & came to him right, then the Child that was soe younge 308 tooke his staffe that was soe stronge,
& smote the dragon on the crowne that in the wood hee ifell downe. the dragon reconered anon-right,
312	& hitt the Child wdh such might
with his tayle in that tyde, that hee Dell downe# vpon his side, then degree 2 reconered anon-right,
316	& defended him with mnch might;
with his staffe that was soe longe he broke of him ffoote and bone that itt was wonder ffor to see.
320 hee was soe tanghe 3 hee might not dye, yett hee hitt4 him on the crowne soe hye that hee made his braines out fLye.5 then the Erie was glad & blythe,
324	& thanked Degree often sithe,6
& he prayed him hee wold with him ryde vnto the pallace there beside ;
& there he made him a ~K.night,
328	& made him good cheere that night;
rents, tresnre, & halfe of his Land hee wold hane seized 7 into his hand,
1 God before (Utt.; Ef. omits it.—Sk.) i. e. God going before, God giving his aid. Compare, —
“ for, God before,
We’ll chide this Dauphin at his father’s door.”
Shakespeare’s Henry V. i. 2. “Yet, God before, tell him we will come on.”—Ibid. iii. 5.
I quote these passages to show that
this expression, which was very common in our earliest poetry, continued long in use.—Dyce.
2	? MS. dregree.—E.
3	toughe.—P.
4	smote.—Utt,
5	And on the hed he hym batrid,
That hys hedd all-to-clatride.—Ef.
6	times.—P.
7	put into possession. Jun.—P.SIR DEGREE.
31
& alsoe his daughter to be his wiffe,
332	& all his lands after his lifFe.
& then Sir Degree thanked him hartilye, and prayed him, “ of his cnrtesye to lett his women aifore him come,
336 wines, mayds, more and some,
& alsoe yo^r daughter eke ;
& if my gloues be ffor them meete, or will vpon of any of their hands,
340 then wold I be ffaine 1 to take my 2 Lands ;
& if my gloues will not doe soe,
I will take my leaue and goe.” all the women were out brought 344 that thereabout might be sought,
& all assayd the gloues then, but they were ffitt for no woman.
Sir Degree tooke his gloues thoe,
348	& alsoe tooke his leaue to goe.
the Erie hee was a horcl of gentle blood, hee gaue Str Degree a steede hull good,
& therto gaue him good armour 3 352 which was ifaire and sure,
& alsoe a page his man to bee,
& a hackney to ryde on trulye. then fforth went S^r Degree, the sooth to say, 356 many a mile ypon a summers day.
soe ypon a day much people he mett; he houed 4 still, & ifayre them grett; he asked the squier what tydinge,
360	& wence came all those people rydinge.
the squier answered yerament, he sayd, “ they came ifrom the p&rlament.
& when they parlaiment was most planere,5 364 the King lett cry both farr & nere
and his daughter.
Degree asks
to see all his womankind:
if his gloves fit any one,
he’ll wed her;
if not, he’ll go away.
The gloves fit none of the women,
so Degree takes leave of them. The Earl gives him a steed, armour,
and a page mounted.
They start,
and meet a crowd
coming from the Parliament
of a King who has
glad.—P.	2 your.—P.	MS.—P.
P. has added an e at the end in the 4 halted, stood.—P.
5 full,—P.32
SIR DEGREE.
promised his lands and daughter to any knight who’ll joust with him.
No one has been able to do it,
for the King has broken their necks or backs, or speared or killed them.
Degree
resolves to try the King,
meets him,
and says he’ll joust with him.
The King is glad.
6 If any man durst be soe bold
As with tbe 'King Inst wold,	[page 376j
be sbold bane bis dangbter in marryage,
368	& all bis lands & bis herytage.’
itt is a land good and ifayre,
& tbe king thereto batb no beyre. certaine no man dare grant thereto ;
372 many a man assayd, & might not doe, for there is no man that rides to him bnt bee beates them with stroakes grim ; of some bee breakes tbe necke anon ;
376 of some be brakes backe and bone ; some tbrongb tbe bodye bee glyds ;
& some to tbe death bee smites, ynto him may a man doe notbinge,
380 sncb a grace ener batb onr Kinge.”
Sir Degree stood in a stndy then,
& tbongbt bee was a mighty man,
“ & I am in my yonnge blood ;
384	& I hane borsse & armonr goode,
& as I trow I bane a good steede ;
I will assay if I can speede;
& if I can beare that King downe,
388 I sbalbe a man of great renowne ;
& if bee mee Sell can,
there knowes no body who I am.”
tbns in tbe Gitye bis inne be takes ;
392 be rested him, & merry makes, soe on a day tbe King bee mett, he kneeled downe, & faire him grett,
& sayd, “ my LorcZ, tbon King of mnch might!
396 my Lord batb sent mee to thee right to warne yon bow itt mnst bee : my LorcZ will come & flight with yee; to Inst with thee my Lord batb nomm.1 ”
400 tbe King sayd, “ bee sbalbe welcome,
nomm, i.e. taken ; undertaken; or taken upon him.—P.SIR DEGREE.
33
be bee Knight or Barrowne,
Erie, duke, or Cliurle 1 in towne : tberes no man He 2 fforsake;
404 wbo all may winn, all let him take.” soe on tbe Morrow the day was sett, tlie 'King aduised mueb tbe bett, but there was not any liuing man 408 that Sir Degree trusted vpon ;
but to tbe cburcb that day went bee to beare a Masse to tbe trinitye ;
& to tbe ffather bee offered a ffloren,
412	& to tbe sonne another ffine ;
tbe 3* to tbe holy ghost bee offered ; tbe preist in bis masse ffor him bee prayed.
& when tbe Masses were done,
416 vnto bis inne bee went ffull soone, where bee did arme him well indeed in rich armor good att need, bis good steed be began to stryde ;
420 be tooke bis speare, & fforth gan ryde. bis man tooke another spere, and after bis 'Master did itt beare: thus in tbe ffeild Sh* Degree abode then,
424	& tbe King came with many men.
1 a slave, a vassal. See Chauc.—P.	2 there is ... I will.-
Next
morning
Degree
goes to Mass,
then arms himself,
mounts, and rides
into the field, where the King meets him.
-P.
VOL. III.
D34
SIR DEGREE.
[The Third Part.]
[How Degree throws the King, and marries his own Mother.]
The lookers-on
have never seen so fair a man
as Degree.
The King
breaks his spear on Degree without moving him, and says
he is a man.
They'charge again,
and the King
nearly
unhorses
Degree,
who gets angry.
34 parte. <
432
436
440
444
448
452
Many came thither readylye ffor to see their insting trulye ;
& all that euer in the ffeild were, they sayd & did sweare that 6 ere that time the neuer see soe ffayre a man with their eye as was that yonnge 'Knight Sir Degree ;1 .hut no man wist ffrom wence came 1 hee.
They rode together att the last ypon their good steeds hull hast: to dashe him downe he had meant,
& in his sheild sett such a dint2
that his good speare all to-brast;
but Sir Degree was strong, & sate fast.
then sayd the King, “ alas, alas !
this is a wonderffull case.
there was nener man that I might hitt
that might ener my stroake sitt!
this is a man ffor the nones 3 !
he is a man of great bones ! ”
they rode together then with great randome,4
& he had thanght to hane smitten the child downe,
& he hitt Sir Degree soone anon
Hight ypon the brest bone,	[page 3773
that his horsse was reared on hye,
& Sir Degree he was ffallen nye,
& yett Sir Degree his course out yode,
& waxed angrye in his moode; he sayd, “ alacke ! I haue mist yett, and hee hath mee twyse hitt;
1 cane MS.—F.	<	’ 3 made on purpose for this adventure.
2 perhaps dent, impression, mark.	—P.
—P.	4 precipitation, see Jun.—P.SIR DEGiREE.
35
by god I will adiiise better,
456 I will not long be bis debtor ! ”
then they rode together with much might,
& in their shields their speres pight1 ;
& in their sheelds their speres all to-broke 2 460 vnto their hands with that stroke.
& then the King began to speake,
“ giue me a speare that will not breake,
& he anon shall be smitten downe 464 If hee were as strong as Sampson.
& if hee bee the devill of hell,
I shall him downe ffell ;
& if his necke will not in too,
468 his backe shall, ere I doe goe.”
the King tooke a spere stiffe & strong,
& Sir Degree another strong & longe,
& stoutlye to the King hee smitfc.
472 [The 3 ] King ffayled ; Sir Degree him hitt, he made the Km^s horsse turne vp his ffeete, & soe Sir Degree him beate. then there was much noyse & crye ;
476 the ILing was sore ashamed welnye,
& well I wott his daughter was sorrye, ffor then shee wist that shee must marrye vntill a man of a strange countrye 480 the which. before shee neuer see,
& to lead her liue with such a one
that shee neuer wist ffrom whence hee came.4
the King sayd then to Sir Degore,
484	“ come hither, my ffayre sonne, me before,
ffor if thou were as a gentle a man as thou art seeming to looke ypon,
& if thou coldest witt & reason doe 488 as thou art doughtye man too,
struck, G-1. Chaucer.—P.	with an r over it.—F.
There is a blotted letter in the MS. 3 The.—P.
They charge again,
and shiver their spears.
The King calls for a fresh one :
he’ll break
Degree’s neck or back.
But Degree upsets him ^nd his horse too.
The King’s daughter is sorry that she’ll have to marry a stranger.
The King calls Degree,
4 come.—P.36
SIR DEGREE.
gives him his
daughter, and makes him heir of his lands.
Degree
marries
the
daughter, (not trying his gloves on her),
and she’s his own mother!
But neither knows this.
After noon
they are put to bed solemnly,
and then Degree
I wold think© my Lands well besett * if itt were 5 times bett1 ; ffor words spoken I must 2 needs hold. 492 afore my Barrons that beene soe bold,
I take thee my daughter by the hand,
& I cease 3 4 thee into my Land to be my heyre after mee,
496 in Ioy and blisse ffor to bee.”
great ordinance then there was wrought, & to the church dore they were brought, 4 & there were wedd in yerament 500 vnto the holy Sacrament.
& looke what ffolly hapened there ! that he shold marry his owne mother,5 the which had borne him of her syde !
504	& hee knew nothing that tyde 6 ;
shee knew nothing of his kinne, nor yett shee knew nothing of him, but both together ordayned to bed,
508 yet peraduenture they might be sibb.7 this did S^r Degree the bold, hee weded her to haue & hold, itt passed on the hye time of noone,
512	& the day was almost done ;
to bed were brought hee and shee W'zth great myrth and solempnytye.
S^r Degree stood & behold then,
516	& thought on the hermitt, the holy man,
that hee shold neuer [wed] ffor-thy neither wydow nor Ladye
1	better, larger.—F.
2	There are six strokes for mu in the MS.—F.
3	seize, give possession.—P.
4	The Cambridge MS. Ff. ii. 38 is incomplete, and ends here with
And were weddyd to-gedur verament
vndur holy sacramente ;
lo ! what fortune and balaunce
Be-fallyth many a man borow chauwce, And comyj? forj?e in-to yncowJ?e lede,
And takyth a wyfe.—Skeat.
5	P. has added e at the end in the MS. —F.
6	Cp. the same incident in Eglamore, voi. ii. p. 380, 1. 1065.—F.
7	kin, relations.—P.SIR DEGREE,
37
520
524
528
532
536
540
544
548
wddi-out sliee might the gloues doe liglitlye on lier hands to we.
“alacke !” then sayes Sfcr Degree,
“tbe time that euer I borne shold bee !'”
& sayd anon with heany eheere,
“ rather then all my Kingdome heere
that is now ceazed into my hands,1
That [I were fayre out of this lande.”2] [page 378]
the King these words hard thoe,
& sayes, “ my sonne, why sayst thou soe P is there ought against thy will either done or sayd, that doe thee ill, or any man that hath misdoone ? tell mee, & itt shall be amended soone.”
“ no, Lord,” sayes degree then,
“but for this marryage3 done has beene.
I will not W'ith no woman meddle, neither wiffe, widdow, nor damsell, without shee may these gloues doe Lightly ypon her hands tow.”
& when they Lady can that heere, anon shee changed all her eheere, for shee knew that the gloues longed to her,
& sayes, “giue me the gloues, fayre Sir.” shee tooke the gloues in that steede,
& lightly ypon her hands them did. then shee fell downe & began to cry; says, “ Lord god, I aske thee mercy !
I am the mother that did you beare,
& you are mine owne sonne deere ! ”
Sir Degree tooke her yp thoe ffull lightly in his armes towe.
thinks of his gloves,
and laments
his carelessness.
The King asks what the matter is.
Degree says he can lie with no woman whom his gloves will not fit.
His wife
asks for the gloves, puts them on,
and tells Degree she is his mother.
They rejoice
Here follow a leaf and three quarters 3 The tag to the g, which I read e a different handwriting.—F.	here, and in lines 555, 567, 568, may
MS. cut away.—F<	not he meant for one; but marryag
That nowe is seased into my hande would look ugly.—F.
That I were fayre out of this lande!—Utt,38
SIR DEG1REE.
and kiss.
Then she tells her father
that Degree is her son,
and how he was begotten on her.
Degree asks
her where his father is.
She can’t tell him,
but she gives him his father’s pointless sword. Degree
declares
that he’ll not sleep till he finds is
father.
then either of other were ffnll blythe,1 552	& kissed together many a sithe.
the Kmg of them had much marneile,
& at the noyse without fayle,
& was abashed of their weepinge.
556	“ daughter ! what meanes this thing ? ”
“ father,” shee sayd, “ will yon itt heere ? yon wend that I a may den were, no, trnly, ffather, I am none l 560 for itt is 20 winters a-gone.
this is my sonne, god doth know,
& by these glones see itt, Lowe ! ” shee told him altogether there 564 how hee was begotten of her.
& then bespake Sir Degree,
“ O sweet mother ! ” sayd hee,
“ where is my fathers wooninge,2 568 or when heard yon of him any tydinge p ”
“ sonne,3 ” shee sayd, “ by heanen Kinge I can tell yon of him noe tydinge. biffc when thy father from me went,
572 a poyntles sword he me Lent,
& hee charged me to keepe itt then till that time thow wert a man.” shee feicth 4 the sword anon tho,
576	& Sir degree itt ont drew:
Long & broad itt was, pc&rdye ;
there was not snch a one in that conntry.
“ now trnly,” sayes Degree then,
580	“ hee that weelded itt was a man !
bnt if god of heanen hee may 5 keepe, night nor day I will not sleepe till that time I may my father see,
584 in Christendome if that hee bee.”
4 Here again is the cth for tch noticed before, yol. i. p. 23, 1. 73, &c. &c.—E.
6 hee mee.—P.
1	bli£e, lsetus, Sax. — P.
2	dwelling.—P.
3	? MS. sonnd.—F.SIR DEGmEE.
39
41 parte <
[The Fourth Part]
[How Sir Degree sets out in search of his Father, falls in love, and undertakes to
fight a Griant.]
He made [him merry that ilk night,]1 [page 3793 & on the morrow when itt was day light hee went to the Chirch to heare a masse,
& made him ready for to passe.	Degree
the King sayd, “ my next kinne,2 I will gine thee ‘Knights with thee to winne.3 ”
“ Gramercy, Lord,” sayes Degree then,
592 L“ but with me shall goe no other man But my knane that may take heede of my armour & of my steede.” hee leapt on his horsse, the sooth 4 to say,
596	& forthe he rode on his Ionrney.
many a mile & many a way hee rode forth on his palfrey,
& euermor 5 hee rode west 600 vntil hee came to [a] 6 forrest. there wild beasts came him by,
& Fowles song therto merrely. they rode soe Long that itt grew to night ;
604 they snn went downe, & fayled light, soone after thé found a castell cleere,— a Lady truly dwelled there,— a fayre Castle of lime & stone,
608 but other towne there was none.
Sir Degree sayd to his knaue that tyde,
“ wee will to yonder castle ryde,
& all night abyde will wee,
612	& aske Lodging ffor Charity.”
ready to start,
and will take only
his own man with him.
They ride westward,
and one night
come to a castle,
where
Degree
resolves
to ask for lodging.
1 pfrinted] c[opy].—P.	MS. pared away.—F.
2	The MS. has one stroke too many. —F.
3	A.S. winnan, laborare, contendere,
pugnare, superare, luerari, Bens" Voc. —P.
4	Truth.—P.
5	ever anon.—P.
6	a.—P.40
SIR DEGREE.
They ride in,
and stable their horses,
but can find no one about,
only a fire.
Degree sits down on the dais,
and soon
3 girls in knickerbockers
come in
from
hunting,
but will not speak to him.
Then comes a dwarf four feet high,
the bridge itt was undrawen thoe, they gates they stood open aisoe. into they castle they can speede,
616 but first they stabled vp their steede,
& the sett yp their hackney, enonghe they found of corne & hay. they yode 1 about & began to call 620 both in the court & in the hall; but neither for loue nor awe, liuinge man they none sawe ; but in the middst of the hall floore 624 they found a fayre fyer in that hower. his man sayes, “ leaue Sir,
1	haue wonder who hath made this fiyer P ”
“ but if hee come againe to night,
628 I will him tarry, as I am true knight.” hee sett him downe ypon the desse,2 & hee made him well att ease, soone after hee was ware of one 632 that into the dore gan to come :
3	maydens fiayre & ffree
were trussed vp aboue the knee;
2	of them bowes did beare,
636	& other to we charged were
with venison that was soe good, then Sir Degree vp stoode,
& blessed them anon-wright.
640 but they spake not to the 'Knight,
But into a chamber they be gone,	[page 379, col. 2]
& they shut they dore fiull soone.3 anon then after that withall 644 a dwarfie came into the hall:
4	foote was they lenght of him; his visage was both great & grim ;
1 went.—P.	3 Only one stroke for the n in the MS.
8 Dease, the upper Part of the Hall:	—P.
where the high table stood.—P.SIR DEGREE.
41
tlie hayre that on his head was,
648 looked as yellowe as any gl asse ;
with milke white Lace & goodly blee, ffull stoutly then Looked hee ; hee ware a sercote 1 of greene,
652 with blanchmere 2 itt was ffringed, I weene; hee was well cladd & well dight, his shoes were crooked as a "Knight;
& hee was large of ffoote & hand 656 as any man within the Land.
Sir degree looked on him thoe,
& to him renerence he did doe ;
yellow-
haired,
green-
coated,
shoe-
crooked.
660
664
668
672
676
bnt he to him wold not speake 3 a word, but made him ready to lay the bord. he Layd on clothe, & sett on bread, alsoe wine white and red; torches in the hall 4 hee did light,
& all things to supper he did dight.
anon then with great Honor
there came a Lady forth of her bower,
& with her shee had mayds 15
that were some in red, & some in greene.
Sir degree ffollowed anon-right,
He too won’t say a word to Degree, hut lays the table
for supper.
Then comes a lady with fifteen maids,
but they spake not to the Knight; they yode 5 & washed euery one ;
& then to super wold shee gone,
that ffayre Lady that was soe bright.
att middest of the messe shee sate downe right,
who also won’t speak to Degree.
The lady and
& of euery side her maydens 5, ffayre & goodlye [as any were] 6 aliue.7
her maidens sit down to supper.
1	Sur-coat.—P.
2	? a kind of fur.—F.
3	nold speake, sic leg™—P.
4	The Sloane MS. Boke of Curtasye assigns wax candles to the sitting- and bed-rooms, Candles of Paris (whatever they were) to the hall at supper time.
In chamHfr no ly3t per shalle be brent,
Bot of wax per-to, yf 3e take tent.
In halle at soper schalle caldels (so) brenne
of parys, per-in pat alle men kenne. Babees Boke &c. p. 327, 1. 833-6.
5	went.—P.
6	& goodlye as any were. p. c.—P.
7	On the back of page 379, column 2?,42
SIR DEGREE.
Degree sits down too,
and takes out his knife, hut can hardly eat anything for looking at the beautiful lady.
1 “ By god,” then sayes Str Degree,
“ I hane yon blessed, & yon not mee ; bnt yon seeme dnmbe. by St. Iobn 680 I will make yon speake & I can ! ”
S^r Degree cold of cnrtesye ; be went & sett him before the Ladye.
& when hee had taken his seate,
684 hee tooke his kniffe & cnt his meate.2 ffnll litle att [snpper] eates hee, soe mnch hee beholds this Mayden ffree ; hee thonght shee were the fayrest Ladye 688 that ener before hee did see.
[page 8Ô0]
After supper
the lady goes to her bedroom, and Degree follows her.
She plays
the harp,
& when that they had snpped all, the dwarffe bronght watter into the hall ; thé yode & washed enery one,3 692	& then to Chamber wold shee gone.
“now trnlye,” sayes Degree, “ & after I will to looke on this Ladye all my f6.ll.” soe vpon the stayres the way hee nome,4 696	& soone into the Chamber hee come,
the Lady that was ifayre and bright, vpon her bed shee sate downe right,
& harped notes sweete and ffine.
700 her mayds fBlled a peece 5 of wine ;
are written, in a later hand, the following lines :—
I	promised Silvia to he true, nay out of zeale I swore it tooe;
& that She might heleive me more, gave her in writeing what I swore.— nor vowes nor oathes can lovers hind ; Soe long as pleased, soe long are kinde.— it was on a leaf© : the wind hut blew; away both leaf© & promise flew.
[a space, and then] I tell thee Char-miorn.—F.
1	Here the ordinary handwriting of the MS. begins again.—F.
2	Remember that forks were a luxury not then introduced. Assume that Degree had washed his hands, and then he’d
have fulfilled the requirements of Tractus TJrbanitatis:
To pe mete when pou art sette,
Fayre & honestly thow ete hyt:
Fyrst loke pat py handes be clene, And pat py knyf be sharpe & kene, And cutte py breed & alle by nfete Ry3th euen as pou doste hzt ete.
Babees Boke &c. p. 14, 1. 39-44.
3	See the laying of the surname, or towel for the lord to wash with, described in Russell, p. 132 of Babees Boke &c., and the washing at p. 323.—F.
4	nome,* took.—P.
s cup. See “ Ffor to serve a Lord ” in Babees Boke, and Ladye Bessiye.—F.SIR DEGREE.
43
& then Sir Degree sett him clowne ffor to heare the harpe sound;
& through the notes of the harp shrill 704 he layd him downe and slept his ffill. that ffaire Lady that ilke night shee bade eouer the gentle Knight;
& rich clothes on him they cast,
708	& shee went to another bed att Last.
& soe on the morrow when itt was day, the Lady rose, the sooth to say,
& into the chamber they way can take.
712 shee sayd, “ Sir 'Knight, arise and wake ! ” & then shee sayd all in game,
“ you are worthye ffor to haue blame ! ffor like a beast all night you did sleepe; 716	& of my mayds you tooke no keepe.”
& then bespake Sir Degree,
“ mercy, madam, & fforgiue mee ! the notes that thy harpe itt made,1 720 or else the good wine that I had. but tell me now, my Ladye hend,2 ere I out of this chamber wend,3 who is Lord in this Lande,
724 or who holds this castle in his hand,
& whether you be mayd or wiffe,
& in what manner you lead jouv liffe,
& why you [have] soe 4 manye women 728 alone with-out 5 any men.”
“ Sir,” shee sayd, “ I wold you tell & if you wold amend itt well, my ffather was a bold Barron,
732	& holden hord ouer tower & towne,
& hee had neuer child but mee,
& I am heyre heere in this countrye;
plays Degree to sleep,
and has him covered with rich clothes.
In the morning
she wakes him
and
reproaches him for his rudeness.
Degree begs her pardon,
and asks her
whether
she’s
married,
and why she has no men there.
She says
that she is her father's heiress,
1	of thy harpe it made, i. e. caused it,	3 wend, go.—P.
Sc. my sleepiness.—P.	4 you [have] so. p. c.—P.
2 hend, gentle. Gl. Chau.—P.	5 withouten.—P.44
SIR DEGREE*
and has had
many
suitors,
but a giant who wants her
has killed ’em all.
She swoons,
and on her recovery, Degree declares he’ll help her.
She promises him her lands
and herself
to do what he will with.
Degree is glad
of the chance of winning her.
The giant approaches, and the drawbridge is drawn up.
& there hath woed [me] many a 'Knight 736	& many a Squier well dight1 ;
but there thèn wo ones there beside a stont Gy ant, & hee is ffull of pry de,
& hee hath me desired long and yore 2 ;
740	& him to lone I can nener more ;
& hee hath slaine my men eche one, all saning my sorry dwarffe alone.” as shee stood talking, shee fell to the ground 744	& swooned there in that stond.
& then her Damsells about her come
& comfort her, & her vp nome.3
the Ladye wakened, & looked on Sir Degree.
748	“ 0 Leaue Dame ! ” then say es hee,
“ be not adread while I am here ; ffor I will helpe thee to my power.4 ”
“ Sà*,” shee sayes, “ all my Lands 752 I doe itt ceaze into jouy hands,
& all my goods I will thee giue,
& alsoe my body while I doe liue,5 & ffor to bee att yo^r owne will	[page 381]
756 earlye, late, lowde, and still,
yea and jour Leman ffor to bee, to wreake 6 mee ypon my enemye.” then was Sir Degree ffaine 7 to flight 760 to defend this Ladye in her wright,
& ffor to sloe the other Knight & winne the Ladye that was soe bright.
& as thé stood talking in ffeere,8 764 her damsells came w^th a heauy cheere,
& bade “ draw the bridge hastilye ; for yonder comes yo^r enemye ; without you itt draw soone, anon 768 hee will destroye vs euerye one.”
1	deck’d, dressed.—P.
2	before, formerly.—P.
3	nome, took.—P.
4	P. has added an e at the end.—F.
5	This line is partly pared away.—F.
6	revenge.—P.
7	glad.—P.
8	together.—P.SIR DEGREE.
45
[The Fifth Part.]
[How Sir Degree kills the Giant, fights and finds his Father, and marries his Love.]
5* parte<
776
780
784
788
792
796
800
'Sir Degree Lee start yp anon & tLougLt to make Lim readye soone,
& ont of a window Lee Lim see; tLen to Lis Lorsse ffull soone did Lye. soe stout a man as Lee was one, in armor say1 sLee neuer none. tLen S^r Degree rode ffortL amaine .ffor to ryde tLis Gyant againe :
TLe smote togetLer Lard in sootLe that Sir Degrees Lorsse Lacke brake in 2.
“tLou Last,”sayes Sir Degree, “slaine my goodsteede,
but I Lope Isl quitt well*tLy meede !
to sloe tLy steed nougLt I will,
but ffigLt with. tLee all my ffill.”
tLen tLey ffougLten on ifoote in ffeere
w^tL Lard strokes ypon Lelmetts Cleere.
tLe Gyant Lee gaue S^r Degree
Luge strokes that were great plentye,
and Sir Degree did Lim alsoe
till Lis Lelmett & basenett 2 were burst in 2.
tLe Gyant Lee was agreeued sore
because Le Lad of Lis blood fiforlore,3
& sucL a stroke Le gaue Sir Degree tLoe
that to tLe ground Le made Lim goe.
S^r Degree recouered anon-rigLt,
& sucL a stroke Lee gaue that KnigLt,
& ypon tLe crowne soe Lee itt sett,
that tLrouge Lis Lelme and basenett
Le made Lis sword to goe tLrougL Lis Lead,
& tLen tLe gyant ffell downe dead. tLis Ladye lay in Ler castle,
& sLee saw tLe wdiole battell,
Degree
rides forth.
The giant charges him, and breaks his horse’s back in two.
Then they fight on foot,
giving one another huge strokes.
The giant
fells Degree;
but he
recovers
himself,
and kills the giant.
The lady is as glad as
1 saw.—P.
2 heacl-picce.—P.
3 lost.—P.46
SIB DEGBEE.
the birds of daylight,
thanks
Degree,
kisses him 100 times,
gives him all her lands and goods and herself.
Degree
says he must first seek adventures for a year;
then he’ll come to her.
He rides westward
till a knight
in rich armour rides up to him
& shee was glad to see that sight as euer the bird was of daylight, then Sir Degree came into the hall,
804	& against him came the damsell,
& shee thanked him ffor his good deed,
& into her chamber shee did him lead,
& ynarmed him anon thoe,
808	& kist a 100 times and moe,
& sayd, “ Sir, now all my Lands I doe ceaze into thy hands,
& all my goods I doe thee giue,
812	& my bodye the whilest I line,
& ffor to bee att yo^r owne will earlye, late, lowd, and still.” he sayd, “ Madam, godamercye 816 ffor all the ffayonr yon hane granted mee ! bnt I must into ffarr countryee, more aduentures ffor to see vntill this 12 monthes be agoe,1 820	& then I will come you toe.”
hee betooke her to the heauen Kmg. the Lady wept att their depc&rtinge. hee leaped on his horsse, the soothe to say,
824	& rode fforth on his Iourney;
& euermore he rode west
till a Lane he ffound in a fforrest,
& there came to him [pricking a] 'Knight2 828 That well was armed, & on his horsse dight [page 382] in armour that wold well endure, w^th ffine gold and rich azure,
& 3 bores heads where therin,
832 the which, were of gold ffine;—
itt might well bee his owne, soones ffell,3 ffor once hee woone them in battell
3 sans faile, without fail. Seel. 841.
—F.
gone, past.—P.
MS. cut away.—F. pricking a K* —P.SIR DEGREE.
47
& he sajd, “ villaine ! what doest thou here 836 within my fforrest to sloe my deere ? ”
S^r Degree answered him w^th words meeke,
& sayes, “ of thy deere I take noe keepe, hut I am an aduenturous 'Knight,,
840	& I am goinge to seeke warr & Sight.”
his ffather answered & sayd sans Sell,
“ if thou he come ffor to seeke hattell, buske 1 thee shortlye in a stonde,
844 ffor thy ffellow thou hast ffounde.”
then looke what ffolly happened that tyde ! the sonne againe the ffather did ryde,
& neither knew of other right;
848	& thus they began to flight.
they smote together soe hard in soothe that their horsses hacckes brake bothe ;
& then they ffought on ffoote in fere 852 w^th hard strokes ypon helmetts cleere.
& this his ffather amarueyled was of his sword that was poyntles,
& sayd to him anon-right,
856	“ abyde awhile, thou gentle Knight!
where was thou borne, in what Land ? ”
“ S¿r,” hee sayd, “ in England, a Kings daughter is my mother;
860 but I cannott tell who is my ffather.
“ what is thy name P ” then sayes hee.
“ Sir, my name is Degree.”
“ O Str Degree, thou art right welcome !
864 ffor well I know thou art my sonne. by that sword I know thee heere ; the poynt is in my poteuere.2 ” hee tooke the poynt & sett itt tooe,3 868	& they accorded both tooe.4
1 prepare.—P.	Mantle, vol. ii. p. 305, 1. 21.-
2	A pocket or pouch. See Boy $	3 ? MS. looe.—P. to.—P.
and asks him why he’s come to kill his deer.
Degree says he doesn’t want his deer,
but to fight.
The knight tells him to make ready,
and they fight
fiercely till the knight sees that Degree’s sword is pointless,
and asks him where he was born.
“ In
England.
But I know not my father.”
“Welcome, my son!
I know you by your sword.”
He fits the point on to it,
-P.
4 tho.—P.48
SIR DEGREE.
and father and son are reconciled.
They go together to England.
Degree’s
mother
recognises his father,
and they are married.
Degree
marries his own love ;
and so his troubles are over.
soe long they haue spoken together, both the sonne and the ffather, that they haue both accorded att one,
872 the ffather & the sonne alone, then went fforth Sir Degree wdh his owne ffather trulye. yntill they might England see,
876 they drew thither as they wold bee ;
& when they to the Kings palace were come, they were welcome w&th all and some.
& there they Ladye spyed them ouer a wall, 880	& to them shee began to call,
& shee sayd, “ my deere sonne, Srr Degree, thou hast thy ffather brought wdh. thee ! ”
“ now thankes be to god ! ” sayd the Kinge, 884	“ ffor now I know wrbh-out leasinge
who is Degrees ffather indeede.” the Ladye swooned in that steade. then shee & her sonne were parted in twaine, 888 ffor hee & shee were to nye of kinne ;
& then this 'Knight wedded that ffayre Ladye before all the Lords in that countrye.
& then went fforth Srr degree,
892	& soe did the King & all his meanye ;
vnto the castle thé roden in ffere— wrth a companye right ffayre— where dwelled this 1 Ladye bright 896 which before he wan in flight.
& there Sir Degree marryed that gay Ladye before all the nobles in that countrye.
& thus came the Knight out of his care.
900 god grant ys all well to ffare !
-	ffins.
1 that.—P.
[“ In a May Morning 55 and u The Turhe in Linen ”printed in L. & Hum. Songs, pr 74-79, folloio here, and take itp p. 888 of the MS.]49
Heati) Sc Stiff ^	[page 384J
2 This poem, which is certainly one of the finest in the Folio Manuscript, is now printed for the first time, and, as it would appear at present, from the only copy of it in existence. From its allegorical nature, it contains no historical allusions to assist us in discovering its date or its author, and the only way left is to examine the internal evidence. From this, however, it is plain that the author wrote the poem in imitation of Langland’s Vision of Piers Plowman; and a comparison of the two throws considerable light upon its construction and its language. The author seems most indebted to the later passus of Piers Plowman, and I should infer from the line,
& bade them barre bigglye * Belzebub his gates,1 * 3 (1. 390)
and from other indications, that the particular text of Piers Plowman which he knew best was the latest one. And since the latter part of this latest text was very likely not written much before 1380, we may be tolerably certain at the outset that the date of “ Death and Liffe ” is, at any rate, later than this.
Again, if we compare “ Death and Liffe ” with one of the latest pieces of alliterative verse known, viz., the “ Scotish.ffeilde ” (see vol. i. p. 199 of the present work), we see a remarkable similarity
1	2 fitts. Two of these short Lines are properly but one.—P. The Anglo-Saxon alliterative poems are usually written as prose with frequent dots, and printed commonly in short lines; the Early English ones in long lines. The lints of the present poem in the Folio MS. are written
short to 1.87 of the text. They are here printed long, with an inverted full stop
at the break between them, after Mr. Skeat’s plan in his Piers Plowman, from
Langland’s Vision of whom this poem is imitated. And as the stop helps the reader by marking the pause in each line, it has been carried on through the lines which are written long in the MS. and without pause-marks.—F.
2	This Introduction is by the Eev. W. W. Skeat.—F.
3	See Whitaker’s edition of Piers Plowman, p. 354.	The passage about “barre
we he 3ates ” is not in Wright’s edition.
VOL. III.
E50
DEATH AND LIEFE.
in the style, diction, and rhythm of these two poems. I have little doubt but that the same man was the author of both. There is, in both, the same free use of the words leeds, frekes, bearnes, segges, as equivalent to men; the same choice of peculiar words, such as weld (to rule over), to keyre to (to turn towards), to ding (to strike), even down to the occurrence in both of the unusual word nay, as equivalent to ne, i.e. nor. Where we find in “ Death and Liffe,”
the red rayling roses • the riches of flowers (1. 24),
we find the corresponding line in “ Scotish ffeilde,” viz.
rayled full of red roses • and riches enowe (1. 26).
So too, the line in “ Death and Liffe,”
a bright burnisht blade • all bloody beronen (1. 172),
is explained by
till all his bright armour * was all bloudye beronen (1. 31 of S. F.).
We may even venture, with confidence, to correct one poem by help of the other. Thus, in S, F. 1. 337,
many squires full swiftly • were snapped to the death,
it is certain, no less from the Lyme MS. than from the alliteration, that squires and snapped should be svjires and swapped. And we find the word siveeres, accordingly, in D. & L. 1. 54. As another instance, take D. & L. 1. 407 :
he cast a light on the Land ■ as beames on the sunn.
Here on is obviously an error for of; and it at once occurred to me that beames is an error for leames, the older form, and the only one that agrees with the alliteration. This conjecture is changed to certainty by observing S. F. 1. 309 :
with leames full light * all the land oyer.
Once more, we find, in D. & L. 1. 185,
both enuye & anger • in their yerne weeds.DEATH AND LIFFEi
51
If we consider yerne to mean eager (cf. 1. 250), we get no particular sense, and destroy the alliteration; but if we.take it to mean iron, we are right both ways. That this is correct, is rendered probable by a similar expression in S. F. 1. 363, viz., 66 in their steele weeds,” which is not dubious at all.
It may be observed, too, that the two poems are very nearly of the same length, and are both similarly divided into two parts. I shall show presently that the author of u Death and Liffe ” was familiar with “ Piers Plowman,” and it is equally certain that the author of “Scotish ffeilde ” was so too. Compare S. F. 1. 106,
& profer him a present * all of pure gold,
with the original line as it stands in “ Piers Plowman,”
And profrede Pees a present • al of pnre golde.
(P. PI. ed. Wright, p. 70; or ed. Skeat, p. 47.)
Percy himself seems to have been in two minds about this poem. In one place he says, that “ for aught that appears, [it] may have been written as early [as], if not before, the time of Langland; ” 1 and in another place he says, of the “ Scotish ffeilde,” and with reference to “ Death and Liffe,” that “ from a similitude of style, [it] seems to have been written by the same Author.”2 The former opinion is out of the question f the latter is, I think, as good as proved to be correct. Percy further says : “ The subject of this piece is a vision, wherein the poet sees a contest for superiority between ‘ our lady Dame Life,5 and the 6 ugly fiend Dame Death ;5 who, with their several attributes and concomitants, are personified in a fine vein of allegoric painting.”3 It is, indeed, written with great boldness and vigour, and with no small skill. Life is represented as beautiful, loving, cheering and blessing all things with her gracious and happy presence, whilst, on the other hand, and in perfect contrast, Death is
1	Reliques, vol. ii. p. 303 (5th ed.) sent work.
2	See vol. i. p. 199, note, of the pre-	3 Reliques, vol. ii. p. 304.52
DEATH AND LIEFE.
repulsive, terrifying, unsparing, with sorrow and sickness in her train.
The picture of Lady Life as she comes a ever laughing for love,” is the happiest piece of description in the Folio. All nature “ sways to her as she moves, and circles her with music: ”
. . as shee came by the bankes * the boughes eche one they lowted to that Ladye * & layd forth their branches ; blossomes & bnrgens * breathed full sweete,
Mowers flourished in the frith * where shee forth stepedd,
Sf the grass that was gray * greened heliue ; breme birds on the boughes • busilye did singe,
^ all the wild in the wood * winlye the ioycd. (1. 69-75.)
The dispute between the Ladies turns upon the real meaning of the death of Christ. Death boasts of the fall of Adam and of the thousands she has slain, and how she had pierced the heart of our Lord himself. But, at the mention of His hallowed name, Life rises up to reply victoriously, and to reprove unanswerably. She reminds Death of Christ’s resurrection, of His triumph over all the powers of hell, of the impotence of her boasting, and of her everlasting defeat and condemnation. The poet has a glimpse of the glories of the general resurrection, and awakes renewed in hope and comforted at heart with the indwelling desire of the blessings of bliss everlasting.
I now proceed, finally, to show to what extent the poet was indebted to his older and greater brother-artist, William Langland, from whom no one need be ashamed to borrow. His obligations are such as detract very little from his originality and genius, but they are instructive to the reader, and therefore it is worth while to point them out. I refer to Wright’s edition of u Piers Plowman,” citing by the page as being most convenient.
A few similarities of expression may be first noticed.
(1)	till that itt neighed neere noone (1. 137).
Cf. And it neghed neigh the noon (P. PI. p. 425).
(2)	how didest thou lust att Ierusalem • m'th Iesu my lord (1. 368).
Cf. And justen with Jhesus (P. PL p. 374); and again,
And who sholde juste in Jerusalem (P. PI. p. 370).DEATH AND LIFFE.
53
3.	It is said of Lady Life,
& yett beffore thou wast borne • shee bred in thy hart (1. 128).
So, of Lady Anima, who is also Lady Life,
And in the herte is hir hoom • and hir mooste reste. (P. PI. p. 162.)
4.	The expression “ care thou noe more” (1. 131) occurs in a different poem altogether, viz. in Pierce the Ploughmans Crede (1. 131, ed. Skeat, 1867); but the expression “to ken kindlye,” in the former half of the same line, is from P. PI. p. 20.
5.	In 1. 119, praysed should be prayed. Cf.
Thanne I courbed on my knees • and cried hire of grace,
And preide hire pitously, &c.	(P. PI. p. 19.)
But I pass on to points of greater interest and importance. Here is the passage which gives the keynote to the whole poem:
Deeth seith he shal fordo * and adoun brynge A1 that lyveth and loketh * in londe and in watre.
Lif seith that he lieth * and leieth his lif to wedde,
That for al that Deeth kan do * withinne thre daies To walke and fecche fro the fend • Piers fruyt the Plowman,
And legge it ther hym liketh • and Lucifer bynde,
And for-bete and adoun brynge • bale deeth for evere.
G mors, ero mors tua, &c. (P. PI. p. 371.)
Again,
Lif and Deeth in this derknesse • hir oon fordooth hir oother.
Shall no wight wite witterly • who shal have the maistrie Er Sonday aboute sonne risyng. (P. PI. p. 373.)
The idea of beholding all in a vision is common enough, as in Chaucer’s House of Fame and the Eomaunt of the Eose; but there are points in the present poem which are obviously adopted from Langland, and from no one else. Thus the poet wanders through a frith full of flowers (1. 22):
I seigh iloures in the fryth • and hir faire colours. (P. PI. p. 224.)
He wanders by the river-side, and falls asleep (1. 26-'36):
I was wery forwandred • and wente me to reste Under a brood bank • by a bournes side ;
And as I lay and lenede * and loked on the watres,
I slombred into a slepyng • it sweyed so murye. (P. PI. p. 1.)54
DEATH AND LIEFE.
Or, as Langland says on another occasion,
Blisse of the briddes • broughte me a-slepe. (P. PI. p. 155.) Next, he imagines himself on a great mountain (1. 40) :
On a mountaigne that myddel-erthe * highte, as me thoughte. (P. PI. p. 221.) Line 49 he adopts from Langland, almost without alteration:
Me bifel a ferly • of fairye, me thoghte. (P. PI. p. 1.)
He sees in his vision an innumerable host of people (1. 50-56) :
A fair feeld ful of folk • fond I ther bitwene
Of alle manere of men • the meene and the riche. (P. PI. p. 2.)
In particular, he observes a lovely lady (1. 60):
A lovely lady of leere * in lynnen yclothed,
Cam doun from a castel • and called me faire. (P. PL p. 15.)
She is in gorgeous attire, like a second lady described by Langland :
And was war of a womman • worthiliche y-clothed,
Pnrfiled with pelnre * the fyneste upon erthe,
Ycoronned with a coronne • the kyng hath noon bettre, &c. (P. PI. p. 28.)
The lady, however, is called Life, and has in her train Sir Comfort, Sir Hope, Sir Hind, Sir Liffe, Sir Likinge, &c. (1. 100-4.) This is evidently Langland’s Lady Anima, with her attendants Sir Se-wel, Sir Sey-wel, Sir Here-wel, &c. (P. PL p. 160.) After this, however, the poet’s mind again reverts to Langland’s Lady Holichirehe, who says of herself:
I underfeng thee first * and the feith taughte. (P. PI. p. 19.)
Life offers to instruct him, but he is rather afraid of her, jusf as Langland is of Holichirehe. But just then, a noise is heard w in a nooke of the northi.e. in the quarter where Lucifer dwells; cf. ponam pedem in aquilone, quoted in P. PL p. 22, or, as it stands in Whitaker’s edition, at p. 18,
Lord, why wolde he tho * thnlke wrechede Lucifer Lepen on a lofte * in the nor the syde ?
The earth trembles at the approach of Death (1. 147):
The wal waggede and cleef * and al the world quaved. (P. PL p. 873.)DEATH AND LIEFE.
55
Death appears, terrible and resistless, described by Langland with astonishing vigour in the lines :
Deeth cam dryvynge after • and al to duste passhed Kynges and knyglites • kaysers and popes.1 Lered and lewed • he leet no man stonde That he hitte evene • that evere stired after.
Manye a lovely lady • and lemmans of knyglites
Swowned and swelted • for sorwe of hise dyntes. (P. PI. p. 431.)
There is next a strife between Death and Life, as in the passages of Langland already quoted, and we find Death boasting of her jousting with Jesus at Jerusalem. After this point in the narrative, the reader will no longer have to look hither and thither for parallel passages, but should read over Passus XVIII. of “ Piers Plowman,” and he will find there the same account of Christ’s descent into hell, or as it is more generally termed, “the harrowing of hell,” because our Lord harried or ravaged hell, despoiling Satan of his prey. At Christ’s descent, a wondrous leme 2 (or gleam) shines around :
The while this light and this leme • shal Lucifer ablende. (P. PI. p. 377.)
whilst a loud voice is heard, commanding Lucifer to unbar the gates :
A vois loude in that light • to Lucifer crieth,
Prynces of this place • unpynneth and unlouketh. (P. PI. p. 385.)
And with that breeth helle brak * with Belialles barres. (P. Pl. p. 388.)
and Christ enters in triumph, and binds Lucifer in chains (P. PL p. 393). He next delivers “Adam and his issue,”returning with them to Paradise:
and tho that oure Lorde lovede • into his light he laughte. (P. PI. p. 388.)
After this triumph the poet beholds a glimpse of the general resurrection, but the sublimity of the spectacle wakes him:
men rongen to the resurexion • and right with that I wakede. (P. PI. p. 395.)
I have only to add that the poem known by the title of “The
1 Two more forcible lines are seldom 2 I have before shown that leames is to be met with.	the true reading in 1. 407.56
DEATH AND LIFFE.
Harrowing of Hell” has been edited by Mr. Collier and by Mr. Halliwell; that another version of it is to be found in “ The Parliament of Devils ” (see u Hymns to the Virgin and Christ, Ac.” ed. Furnivall, E. E. T. Soc. 1867); and that the common source of all these appears to be a curious passage in the Apocryphal Gospel of Mcodemus, for which see Cowper’s recently published translation of these Gospels.
Christ,
give us grace to
serve thee, 4
for all strength
and learning 8
must come to nought when we die.
12
The good go to bliss,
the wrongdoers to woe.
16
[The First Part.]
Christ, christen king * that on the crosse tholed,1 hadd 2 paines & passyons * to deffend onr soules, gine vs grace on the ground * the 3 greatlye to serve for that royall red blood * that rann ffrom thy side,
& take 4 away of thy winne 5 word * as the world asketh,6 that is richer of7 renowne * rents or others, for boldnesse of body * nor blythenesse of hart, coninge of Clearkes * ne cost vpon earth; but all wasteth away * & worthes 8 to nought, when death driueth att the doore9 * w&th his darts keene,
then noe truse 10 can be taken * noe treasure on earth, but all Lordshipps be lost * & the liffe both, if thou haue pleased the prince * that paradice weldeth,11 there is noe bearne 12 borne * that may thy blisse recon ; but if thou haue wrongffully wrought * & will not amend,
thou shalt byterlye bye 13 ' or else the booke ffayleth.
1	qu. tholedst, i.e. suffered. Jun.—P.
2	qu. haddest.—P.
3	thee.—P.
4	i. e. & to take &c. in proportion (or in the same measure.) as the World asks other things.—P.
5	winne. A.S. winlie, jucundus ; winn, amicus. Lye.—P.
6	Cp. Vis. of P. PL, Prol.: werchynge & wandrynge * as the world asketh.— Skeat.
7	Qu. or.—P.
8	turns or becomes, S. wrorpan, esse, Fieri. Lye. worth, to wax, to become. Gloss, to G. D. —P.
9	? MS. doere.—F.
10	trusse, package.—F.
11	i.e. governeth. Juni.—P.
12	i.e. child, human creature: man &e. See Gawn. Doug® passim.—P.
13	byan, Sax., habitare, possidere.—P. abye, A.-S. abicgan. Cp. “ Shal abien it bittre. * or the book lieth.” P. Pl. ed, Wright, p. 58.—Skeat.DEATH AND LIFFE.
57
therfore begin in god * to greaten onr workes,
& in bis ifaythflull sonne ' that ffreelye bim followeth in hope of the holy ghost ■ that yeeld shall nener.
20 god that is gracyons * '& gonerne vs all,
bringe vs into blisse * that brought vs out of ball1! thus ifared I through a ffryth 2 * were fflowers were manye,
bright bowes in the banke • breathed hull sweete,
24 the red rayling 3 roses * the riches 4 of fflowers,
land 5 broad on their bankes ' with their bright Leaues, & a riuer that was rich * runn ouer the greene with still sturring streames * that streamed ffull bright. 28 over the glittering ground * as I there 6 glode,7
methought itt Lenghtened my liffe * to looke on the bankes.
then among the fayre flowers * I settled me to sitt vnder a huge hawthorne * that hore was of blossomes ; 32 I bent my backe to the bole8 * & blenched9 to the streames.
Hay God bring us into bliss 1
I walked through a wood full of flowers,
with a river running through,
and the sight seemed to lengthen ' my life.
I sat down,
thus prest I on apace * vnder the greene hawthorne. ffor breme 10 of the birds * & breath of the fflowers,
&) what for waching & wakinge * & wandering about, 36 in my seate where I sate * I sayed a sleepe,
lying Edgelong on the ground • list11 all my seluen, deepe dreames and dright12 * droue mee to hart, mqthought walking that I was * in a wood stronge, 40 vpon a great Mountaine * where Mores 13 were large,
and the birds’ song
sent me to sleep,
and I dreamed that I
walked on a mountain
[page 385]
1	bale, sorrow, misery.—P.
2	frith olim sylvam Kota vit. Ita Jul. Burns devenerat. [?MS.] ‘/Wherever you fare, by frith or by fell,” i.e. quocunqwe Iter feceris, sive per sylvam, sive per Campum. Gloss, ad G. D. So Douglas JEn. 6. 793, regnata per arva, “rang (reign’d) baith be fryth & fald.” And in Prol. to Lib. 13. In frith or feilde.—P.
3	Cp. “The rose rayleth hir rode.”
Morris’s Specimens, glossed “ rciyle, to
deck, ornament; rayleth, puts on (as a
garment). A.-S. hrcegel, a garment ;
whence night-ra^.” But see railinge,
1. 376 below.—F.
4	richest.—P.
5	? leaned, or layd, as in 1. 63.—F.
6	It there, qu.—P.
7	i.e. glided, glade, Scot, apud G. Douglas, est, went, passed, swiftly. Gloss, ad G. Doughs.—P.
8	i. e. the body or trunk.—P.
9	shrunk, started, leaned towards.—P. Cf. blink.—Skeat.
10	A. S. hremman, fremere: celebrare. —P.
11	? for lift, left, left alone.—Sk.
12	great, noble, fine, A.-S. driht.—Sk.
13	more, Mons, borealibus Anglis. A.S. mor, Mons. L[ye].—P. Moors.—Skeat.58
DEATH AND LIEFE.
whence I saw
44
all the world in its wealth.
48
And on the South I saw a crowd of knights,
princes,
dukes, earls, and squires.
52
56
On the East I saw
a lovely	60
lady
that I might see on euerye side * 17 miles, both of woods & wasts * & walled townes, comelye castles & Cleare * wtth carnen towers, parkes and Pallaces * & pastures ffull many, all the world full of welth * vuulye 1 to behold;
I sett me downe softlye * and sayd these words :
“ I will not kere out of Kythe 2 * before I know more.” & I wayted 3 me about * wonders to know,
& 14 ifayrlye beffell * soe fayre me bethought I saw on the south syde * a seemelye sight, of comelye Knights full keene * & knights5 ffull noble,
Princes in the presse * proudlye attyred,
Dukes that were doughtye * & many deere Erles, Sweeres 6 & swaynes * that swarmed ffull thicke ; there was neither hill nor holte7 * nor haunt there beside,
but itt was planted ffull of people * the plaine and the roughe.
there ouer that oste8 • Estward I looked into a boolish 9 banke * the brightest of other, that shimered10 and shone * as the sheere 11 heauen throughe the light of a Ladye * that longed 12 therin. shee came cheereing ffull comlye * w^th companye 13 noble,
vpon cleare clothes * were all of cleare gold,
1	forte, winlye, i.e. pleasantly, jncunde. Lye.—P. ? viewlye.—P.
2	Kythe, knowledge.—P. region, A.-S. cy%.—Skeat.
3	Old Prench gaiter, to spy about.—
Sk.
4	it, query.—P. “Me bifel a ferly • of fairye me thoghte.” Vis. of P. PL, Prologue.—Skeat.
5	Kings, Qu.—P.
6	forte squires.—P. Yes, often used in Allit. Poems, ed. Morris &c.—P.
7	holt, a wood, a rough Place, &c. Lye. holtis, Scot., are hills, higher
grounds, or rather Woods & forrests (so). Gloss, to G. D.—P.
8	hoste.—P.
9	Perhaps “ tumid, swelling, rounded.” Thus bole in 1. 32, from Old English bolne, to swell; see Partenay, s.v. bolned. Cf. “The flax was boiled,” Bible.—Sk.
10	idem ao glimmered, Chauc. A.S. scymrian, to shine, glitter. L.—P.
11	sheer, pure, clear. Johns.—P.
12 lodged, longed.	Qu.—P.	Abode,
dwelt, A.-Sax. lengian\ lodged is quite wrong. Seel. 136.—Sk.
13	Only half the n in the MS.—P.DEATH AND LIFFE.
59
64
layd brode ypon the bent1 * w^th brawders 2 ffull riebe, before that ifayre3 on tbe ffeeld ' where shee iforth passed.
shee was brighter of her blee 4 * then was the bright sonn,
her rndd5 redder then the rose • that on the rise 6 hangeth,
meekely smiling with her month * & merry in her lookes,
brighter than the sun,
redder than the rose,
68
72
76
80
euer laughing for loue * as shee like wold.
& as shee came by the bankes * the boughes eche one they lowted7 to that Ladye * &layd forth their branches, blossomes & burgens 8 * breathed ffull sweete, filowers flourished in the frith * where shee fforth stepedd,
& the grasse that was gray * greened beliue ; breme birds on the boughes * busilye did singe,
laughing for love.
The boughs
bowed to her,
the blossoms
breathed
sweet,
the grey grass turned green,
& all the wild in the wood * winlye the ioyed.
"Kings kneeled on their knees ' knowing that Ladye,
& all the princes in the presse * & the proud dukes, Barrons & bachelours 9 * all they bowed ffull lowe ; all profrereth her to please • the pore and the riche, shee welcometh them ffull winlye * with words ffull hend,	[page 386]
the wild beasts were glad, kings kneeled to her,
the nobles bowed, and all proffered to please her. She welcomed them all.
both barnes 10 & birds • beastes & fowles.
then that lowly Ladye 11 * on Land where shee standeth,
1	bent, where rushes grow—the field. Gloss. ad G-. Doug® Declivity. In Scotch it signifies a field. See Gloss.—P. layd brode = spread out, i.e. her train lay on the ground. Cf. 1. 25.—Sk.
2	i.e. embroideries.—P.
3	i.e. Pair thing, Pair Creature, v. 1. 450.—P.
4	complexion ; S. bleoh, color.—P.
5	=rudd, complexion. Jun.—P. A.-S. rudu, ruddiness.—Sk.
6	rises, Scot., are bulrushes, flags, ulva.
or it may signify shrubs, bushes. Gloss,
ad G. D. rise, Chaucero est virga, sur-
culus, a shoot, sprig, &c.: e.g. “As
white as is the blossom on the Rise.” Mi. G. 216: “As white as Lillie or Rose on the rise.” R. R. 1015. Jun. —P. Ger. reis, a twig.—Skeat.
7	A.S. hhetem, mcmY&re &c. Jun.—P.
8	burgen, burgeon, the same as bud. Jun.—P.
9	i. e. Knights. Thus in King Richard Pfc’s Song (Qu. printed in Hor. Walpole’s roy1. Authors. St. 6. il bachaliers qi son legiere sain doubtless means Knights. See also many other places in this collection.—P. See Gloss, to Lancelot.—Sk.
10	i.e. children, human creatures.—P.
11	lovely Lady. Yid. Lin. 258.—P.60
DEATH AND LIFFE.
She was clad
in green
her dress cut low to show her breasts
and her
beautiful
neck.
A crown was on her head, and a sceptre in her hand.
Her suite were,
Comfort,
Hope,
Love,
Courtesy,
and Honour her steward.
thai was comelye cladd f in kirtle & Mantle 84 of goodlyest greene ' thai euer groome 1 ware, for the kind 2 of thai cloth * can noe clarke tell;
& shee the most gracyous groome * thai on the ground longed;
of her drnryes 3 to deeme * to dull be my witts,
88	& the price of her [perrie 4] * can no P[erson] 5 tell;
& the colour 6 of her kirtle * was caruen ffull lowe, thai her blisfull breastes • bearnes might 7 behold, w^'th a naked necke • thai neighed 8 her till,
92 thai gaue light on the Land * as bearnes of the sunn, all the Yiings christened * with their cleere gold might not buy thai ilke broche9 * thai buckeled her mantle,
& the erowne on her head • was caruen in heauen,
96 w^th a scepter sett in her hand * of selcoth10 gemmes: thus louelye to looke vpon * on Land shee abydeth. merry were the Meanye 11 * of men thai shee had, blyth bearnes of blee * bright as the sunn :
100 Sh? Comfort, thai ~Knighi • when the court dineth,
S^r Hope & Sir Hiiid * yee 12 sturdye beene both,
Sir Liffe & Sir Likinge * & Sir Loue alsoe,
Sir Cunninge 13 & Sir Curtesye * thai curteous were of deeds,
104 & Sir Honor ouer all * vnder her seluen.
a stout man & a staleworth 14 * her steward I-wisse.
1	groome, pner, famulus, also a young man, see Johnson, from Fairfax: “intreat this groom & silly Maid.”—here it is used equivalent to homo, m. & f.—P.
2	Qu. kind: if knid, perhaps from knitt.—P.
3	Prune, ehaucero denotat amicitiam, amorem. Lye. Scot, gifts, presents, love-tokens. G-loss. ad Gr. D.—P.
4	In this line a word is missing. It is surely the word perrie, precious stones, never missed in describing ladies: see P. PI. ed. Wright, p. 511, note to 1. 901. •—Skeat.
5	Person.—P.
6	Q,u. Collar, or ye Part round the neck. See Johnson.—P.
7	nnight MS.-F.
8	neighed them till. Qu.—P.
9	i.e. an ornament, jewel, clasp. Jun.
10	i.e. rarus. Lye.—P.
11	familia, multitudo. Lye.—P.
12	that or who. Qu.—P.
13	One stroke too few in the MS.—F.
14	i. e. fortis, stout, lusty, strong. Lye.DEATH AND LIEFE.
61
108
112
shee had Ladyes of loue * longed her about:
Dame mirth, & Dame Meekenes * & Dame Mercy the hynd,1
dallyance & disport * 2 damsells hull sweete, with all beawtye [&] blisse * bearnes to behold, there was minstrelsye made * in full many a wise,— who-soe had craft or cuninge * kindlye to showe,—
Her ladies were, Mirth., Mercy,
and Disport;
and about her was song of men,
both of 2 birds & beastes * & bearnes in the leaues ; of birds
and beasts.
& ffishes of the fflood * ffaine 3 of her were ;
birds made merrye with their mouth * as they in mind cold.
tho 4 I was moued with that mirth * that maruell mee
116
120
thought;
what woman that was * that all the world lowted,
I thought speedylye to spye * speede if I might, then I kered 5 to a knight ' S^r Comfort the good,6 kneeling low on my knees * curteouslye him praysed. I willed him of his worshipp * to witt7 me the sooth 8 of yonder La dye of loue * & of her royall meanye. hee cherished me cheerlye • by cheeke & by chin,
& sayd, “certes my sonne * the sooth thou shalt knowe.
I longed to know who this lady was.
I knelt to Sir Comfort
and asked him to tell me.
He said,
“ She is Lady Life,
124 this is my Lady dame Lifife * that leadeth vs all, shee is worthy & wise • the welder of Ioye, greatlye gouerneth the ground • & the greene grasse,
shee hath fiostered & fifed thee * sith thou was ffirst borne,
128 &yett beffore thou wast borne * shee bred in thy hart.
who has kept you from your birth.
thou art welcome, I-wisse * vnto my winn Ladye. If thou wilt wonders witt * feare not to firaine,9
1	Hine, villicus, A.S. hiñe, serrus, domesticus. Lye. perhaps hend.—P. Certainly hynd, hend, gentle.—Skeat.
2 of, delend.—P.	of=by, and is required by the verb made in 1. 110.—Sk.
3	faine, hilaris, glad. Lye.—P.
4	i.e. then.—P.
5	here, A.S. Cerran, cyrran, vertere.
Lye.—P.
6	prayed. Qu.—P. Lines 117-19 are written as four in the MS.—P.
7	witt, scire, hie est, facere notum.—P. See hen, 1. 131.—F.
8	sooth, vents, veritas. Jun.—P.
9	frayne, interrogare. Jun. to ask, desire. Gloss. G. D.—P.62
I thought I would be hers for ever,
and our joy lasted till an hour after noon.
But by two
a horn was heard from the North,
blowing a burly blast,
and an ugly ghost appeared,
a woman
with a gold crown,
DEATH AND LIFFE.
& I shall kindlye thee ken 1 ' care thou noe more.” 132 then I was fearfull enonghe • & ffaythffullye thought 4 that I shold long w^th dame liffe * & lone her for ener, there shall no man vpon mold * my mind from her take for all the glitteringe gold • vnder the god of heanen.’ 136 thns in liking this lininge * thé Longed 2 the more till that itt neighed neere noone * & one hower after there was rydinge & revell * that ronge in the bankes all the world was full woe * winne to 3 behold.
140 or itt tnrned from 12 * till 2 of the clocke,
much of this melodye ' was maymed & marde :
In a nooke of the north * there was a noyse hard, as itt had beene a home * the highest of others,
144 w/th the biggest here4 * that ener bearne wist ;
& the burly est5 blast * that ener blowne was, thronghe the rattlinge ront • rnnge oner the ffeelds. the gronnd gogled 6 for greeffe • of that grim dame ; 148 I went nere ont of my witt • for wayling care ; yett I bode on the bent * & boldlye looked, once againe into the north * mine eye then I cast.
I there saw a sight • was sorrowfnll to behold.
152 one of the yglyest 7 ghosts * that on the earth gone, there was no man of this sight * bnt hee was affrayd, soe grislye & great ‘ & grim to behold.
& a qnintfnll 8 qneene 9 * came qnakinge before,
156 wdliacarued crowne onher head * all of pnre gold, [p.387] & shee the ifonlest ffreake 10 * that formed was ener
1	ken, scire, per spicere, intelligere. Jnn. here it signifies (transitively) to shew, make known, inform. See Witt, ver. 120. —P.
2	abode. MS. Longer.—F.
3	winn, Woe to. Q,u.—P. The word woe is the difficulty: may it be A.-S. wo, woh, in the original sense of bent, inclined? Or rather, it’s put for wo[ct\e = mad. Winne is joy, pleasure.—Sk.
4	bere, fremere, fremitus, roaring, raging noise. Lye.—P.
5	burly, great of stature or size, bulky, corpulent. Johns.—P.
6	j°gglecb wagged, shook.—Sk.
7	most fright-causing.—F.
8	quaintful, quaint, neat, exact, nice, having a petty elegance. N.B. Quaint is in Spencer quailed, depressed. Johnson.—P.
9	Sc. Pride, compare this with Line 183.—P.
10 freke, homo, a humen creature. Lye.—-P.DEATH AND LIFFE.
63
both of bide & bew * & beare 1 alsoe.
160
164
168
172
176
sbee was naked as my nayle • botb abone & belowe, and naked, sbee was lapped about * in Linenn breeches, a more fearffull face * no freake might behold :	Her face
°	was fearful
for sbee was long, & leane * & lodlye 2 to see ;	t0 see-
there was noe man on the mold • soe mightye of Death was
°	*	in her look.
strenght,
but a looke of that Lady • & his liffe passed.
bis3 eyes farden4 as the fyer * that in the furnace Her eyes
J	flamed like
burnes;	fire.
they were hollow in her bead • with full beauye browes ;
her cbeekes were leane * with lipps full side,5 with a maruelous mouth * full of long tushes,
& the nebb6 of her nose ’ to her navell banged,	Her nose
hung down
& her lere 7 like the lead • that latelye was beaten. to her
navel.
sbee bare in her right band * & 8 9 vnrid 9 weapon, in her right
°	hand was a
a bright burnisbt blade * all bloody beronen,10	j^ody
& in the left band * like the legg of a grype,11	a Vulture’s
with the talents that were touchinge * & teenfull12 talons-
enougbe.
with that sbee burnisbt vp her brand • & bradd13 out
her geere ;
& I for feare of that freake * ifell in a swond.	i swooned,
bad not Sir Comfort come * & my care stinted,	but sir
J	’	Comfort
I bad beene slaine wt'tb that sight * of that sorrowfull Ladye.
1	hair.—P.
2	lodly or ledlye, Isl. leidur. Turpis sordidns, Al. leid, abominabilis. Mr Lye MS.—P. loathly, Cf. 1. 303.—Sk.
3	Her.—P.
4	i. e. fared, passed, went, were.—P.
5	side, longus, prolixus. Lye.—P.
6	nebbe, rostrum, AS. vultus, item nasus. Jun.—P.
7	Lere‘, Lyre, Caro. Lye. Item, complexion. Grloss. ad Gr. D.—P.
8	an.—F.
9	unrid, perhaps the same as unrude
in Gr. Doug! ; rude, hideous, horrible. Grloss. ad G-. D.—P. The root seems to be the A.-S. re$e or hre&e, cruel, fierce. The prefix may be the A.-S. an- or on-. —Sk.
10	Forte beronen or berunen, vid. p. 367, St. 48 [of MS.].—P. be-run, run over with.—Sk.
11	i.e. Grriffin.—P.
12	teen, est injuria, veccatio. Jun. Sorrow, grief. Johnson.—P.
13	braid, brade, vet. expergcfacere, au-ferre, educere. Lye.—P.64
DEATH AND LIFFE.
reassured
me,
told me she was Death, with Pride, her suite,
Envy,
Wrath,
Mischief,
Sorrow,
and all who loathed their life.
She stept on the grass,
and the trees trembled, the leaves dropt, the fish were still.
She hied to the happy crowd.
and slew
kings,
princes,
dukes,
then he lowted to me low ’ & learned me well,
180 sayd, “ he thou not abashed * but abyde there a while ; here may thon sitt & see * selcothes 1 ffull manye. yonder damsell is death * that dresseth her to smyte. loe, pryde passeth before • & the price beareth,
184 many sorrowffull sonldiers ‘ following her fast after : both ennye & anger * in their yerne 2 weeds, morninge & mone * S^r Mis[c]heefe his ffere,3 Sorrow & sicknesse * & sikinge in hart ;
188 all that were lbthinge of their liffe * were lent4 to her court. '
when shee draweth vp her darts ' & dresseth her to smite,
there is no groome ynder god * may garr her to stint, then I blushed 6 to that bearne * & balefullye looked : 192 he 6 stepped forth barefooted * on the bents browne, the greene grasse in her gate • shee grindeth all to powder,7
trees tremble for ffeare * & tipen 8 to the ground, leaues lighten downe lowe * & leauen their might,
196 fowles faylen to fflee * when9 thé heard wapen,
& the ffishes in the fflood * ffaylen to swimme 10 ffor dread of dame death * that dolefullye threates. wffh that shee hyeth to the hill ■ & the heard ffindeth : 200 in the roughest of the rout * shee reacheth forth darts, there shee fell att the first ffiappe ■ 1500 of comelyes Queenes w^th crowne * & Kings full noble, proud princes in the presse • prestlye 11 shee quellethe ; 204 of dukes that were doughtye • shee dang out the braynes ;
1	i. e. rarities, vid. L. 96.—P.
2	yerne, promptus, eiijpidus. L.—P.
3	fere, socius, yet. ang. L.—P.
4	led.—P. Q,u. MS. letit, or a t crossed, through for the first stroke of an n.—P. lent is short for lenged; thus were lent ~ abode, dwelt. See lent in Halliwell. —Sk.
5	vide Lin. 389.—P.
6	she.—P.
7	Compare this passage with the beautiful bit about Life, lines 69-75.—P.
8	tip, leviter tangere. L.—P.
9	wan. Query.—P.
10	MS. swimne.—P.
11	prest, paratus, statini. Lye.—P.DEATH AHD LIEFE.
65
merry maydens on the mold • shee mightilye killethe ; merry there might no weapon them warrant * nor no walled towne.
yonnge children in their craddle * they dolefullye dyen; and babies 208 shee spareth ffor no specyaltye * but spilleth the gainest1;
the more woe shee worketh * more mightye shee seemeth.
when my Lady dame liffe * looked on her deeds,
& saw how dolefullye ’ shee dunge 2 downe her people, 212 shee cast vp a crye * to the hye King of heauen ;
& he hearkneth itt hendlye * in his hye throne, hee called on countenance * & bade his course take, “ryde thou to the reschew * of yonder wrought3 Ladye.
216 hee was bowne 4 att his bidd * & bradd 5 on his way. that wight,6 as the wind * that wappeth7 in the skye, he ran out of the rainebow 8 * through the ragged clowds,
Life then
cried to God,
and He sent Countenance to her rescue.
Countenance rushes down like the wind,
& light on the Land * where the Lords [lay] slaine.
220 & vnto dolefull death * he dresses him to speake;
sayth: “thou wrathefull Q ueene * that euer woe worketh, cease of thy sorrow ' thy soueraigine commandeth,
& let thy burnished blade • on the bent rest,
224 that my Lady dame liffe * her likinge may haue.”
then death glowed & gran * for gryme9 of her talke,10
and bids Death
cease her slaughter,
that Life might have her way. Death
1 gain, the reverse of ungain, (aukward, clumsy) i.e. clever: handy, ready, dex-
trous. Johnson.—P.	2 dang.—P.
3	wrought, Scot. wraiJc, to vex; Sax. wrecan, exulare; wreccan persequi, ulcisci; wrecca, miser, exul. Wrought perhaps is the same with the Scotch wrachit, i.e. wretched.—P.
4	bown, paratus. L.—P.
5	vid. 176 ver.—P.
6	wight, swift, nimble. Johnson.—P.
7	wappeth, A.S. wappian, Fluctuare,
[wapean, wafian, to waver, Bosworth],
perhaps waxeth, see Saxon, written so
in folio 105 “Saxon Harold,” also ver.
248 of this song.—P. See Waft in Wedgwood. Wappe is used in Maleore’s Arthur of the lapping of the waves in the bit about Arthur’s death, and Sir Bedevere.—Sk.
8	The w is made over a y in the MS;
—F.
9	Query foregrim, i. e. very grim: fore in composition sometimes strengthens the meaning, e. g. fore done, fore shame, fore slow. See Johnson on these, gryme is foulness, dirtiness, impurity.—P. A.-S. grim, fury, rage; grymetan, to rage.—F.
10	looked fiercely and grinned for rage at Countenance’s talk.—Fi
YOL. III.
F66
DEATH AND LIEFE.
earthed her sword.
Life kisses
Counten-
ance,
and then
rebukes
Death:
“ Devil’s daughter,
[page 388]
why kill’st thou man, and grass, and trees,
G-od’s handiwork?
He blest them, bade them increase and multiply,
but sbee did as sbee dained 1 * durst sbee noe other ; sbee pigbt tbe poynt of ber sword • in tbe plaine earth,
228 & wtfh a looke full layeth 2 • sbee looked on tbe bills, tben my Lady dame Liffe • sbee looketb full gay, kyretb 3 to countenance ’ & bim comelye tbankes, kissed kindlye that TLnight • tben carped 4 sbee no more,
232 but vnto dolefull death * sbee dressetb ber to speake, saytb: “ thou woefull wretch * weaknesse of care, bold birth 5 full of bale * bringer of sorrowe, dame daughter of the deyill ‘ death is tby name;
236 but if tby fare be tby 6 fairer * tbe feend baue tby soule. couldest thou any cause ffind * thou KaitifFe wretch, That neither reason nor wright7 * may raigne with tby name P
why kills thou tbe body * that neuer care rougbt8 ?
240 tbe grasse nor tbe greene trees * greeued thee neuer, but come fforth in their kinds ’ cbristyans to belpe, w^tb all beawtye & blisse • that barne 9 might deyise. but of my meanye thou marretb * marveild I baue
244 bow thou dare doe them to death * ecbe day soe manye, & tbe bandy worke of bim • that beauen weldetb! bow keepetb thou bis comandements * thou kaytiffe retch!
wberas banely 10 bee them blessed * & biddetb them tbriue.
248 waxe fforth in tbe word ' & worth11 ynto manye,
1 ordained, bade.—Sk.	The context wants the meaning—“ was told to.”—F.
2	iaith, loath, A.S. la% ; 0. E. laid ; in-visus, molestns, odiosns, fastidium creans. «Tun.—P.
3	Kereth, ver. 118, quern vide.—P. A.S. cyrrun, to turn.—F.
4	to carp, to talk. Scottish. Lin. 361, Gloss, to Kamsays Evergreen. Here it seems used for complained. Carpit, spoke, talked, complained. Gloss, to G. Doug8. —P.
5	Birth, bulk. . . burthen. Gloss, ad
G. Doug.—P.	6 the.—Sk.
7 right.—P.	8 wrought.—Sk.
v MS. harme. The alliteration requires b ; and h is continually miswritten for b. It should be barne = bearne (1. 265). —Sk.
10	banely, perhaps readily, from bane, p. 363, St, 28.—P. Bane, kind, courteous, friendly. Northern. This is Kennett’s explanation of the word in MS. Lansd. 1033. Halliwell.—F.
11	worth, esse, fieri, A.S. worthan. Lye.
—P.DEATH AND LIEFE.
67
& thou lett them of their leake 1 * w^th thy lidder 2 turnes !
but w^th wondering 3 & w^th woe * thou waiteth them full yorne,4
& as a theefe in a rout * thou throngeth them 5 to death,
252 that neither nature, nor I ■ ffor none of thy deeds may bring vp our bearnes * their bale thee betyde ! but if thou 6 blinn 7 of that bine * thou buy must full deere ;
they may wary8 the weeke • that euer thou wast fformed.”
256 then death dolefullye * drew vp her browes,
armed her to answer * & vpright shee standeth,
& sayd : “ o, louelye liffe • cease thou such wordes ! thou payneth thee w^th pratinge ■ to pray me to cease.
260 itt is reason & right * that I may rent take thus to kill of the kind * both Kmgs & dukes,
Loyall Ladds & liuelye * of ilke sort some ; all shall drye 9 with the dints * that I deale with my hands.
264 I wold haue kept the commandement * of the hye Kmg of heauen,
but the bearne itt brake * that thou bred vp hirst when Adam & Eue 10 * of the earth were shapen,
& were put into Paradice • to play with their selues,
268 & were brought into blisse * bidd if thé 11 wold.
he warned12 them nothing in the world • but a wretched branche
and thou puttest them to death.
Stop, or you’ll suffer for it !”
Death answers :
“ It is right that I should kill some,
for the first man broke Cod’s commands in Paradise,
1	leak, vid. lin. 301.—P. A.-S. Ictc, play, sport.—F.
2	lidder, slow, sluggish, lazy. G-loss. ad Gr. D.; or perhaps as the Sax. li%er, i. e. malus, sordidus, servilis.—P. A.-S. ly%re, ly%er, had, wicked. Bosworth.— F.
3	Only half of the last n is in the MS.
—F.
4	greedy, vid. L. 185.—P. eagerly. A.-S. georne.—F. waiteth is used for waitest; this agrees with tholed for
tholedst in 1. 1.—Sk.	5 MS. then.—F.
6	i. e. unless thou.—P.
7	blinn, vet. A. cessare, desinere, desistere. Lye.—P. ? bine.—F.
8	wary, Chauc. est detestari, execrari, vid. Junius.—P.
9	drie, drien, tolerare, pati. Sax. dreo-yan. Lye. dre, to suffer, endure. G-loss. ad G-. D. dye, qu.—P.
10	There is a tag at the end like an r in the MS.—F.
11 bide if they.—P.	12 forbade.—Sk.68
DEATH AND LIFFE.
when Eve 272 plucked the apple.
Then I, Death, gript my sword, and hit Adam and Eve and their offspring.
276
of the ffayntyest ffruit • that euer in ffrith grew; yett his bidding they brake * as the booke recordeth. when Eue ffell to the ffruite ■ w^th ffingars white,
& plnoked them of the plant ' & poysoned them both, I was ffaine of that ffray * my ffawchyon I gryped,
& delt Adam such a dint * that hee dolne ener after.
Ene & her ofspring * I hitt them, I hope,
for all the musters 1 that they made • I mett w^th them
once.
Leave me,
Life! I hate thee and thy servants,
and have no 280 pleasure in their mirth.
My gladdest 284 game is to hew at thy
joys-”
therfore, liffe, thou me leaue * I loue thee but a litle ; I hate thee & thy houshold * & thy hyndes 2 all ! mee gladdeth not of their glee * nor of their gay lookes ; att thy dallyance & thy disport * noe dayntye 3 I haue ; thy ffayre liffe & thy ffairenesse * ffeareth 4 me but litle ; thy blisse is my bale * breuelye 5 of others, there is no game vnder heauen * soe gladlye I wishe as to haue a slapp with, my ffawchyon * att thy fayre state.”
[The Second Part.]
Life rejoins :
“Thy sword shall never bite me;
but when men
are joyful with wife and child,
"Then liffe on the land * Ladylike shee speakes, sayth : “ these words thou hast wasted ' wayte 6 thou no other;
2 ffitt shall thy bitter brand neuer * on my body byte.
I am grounded in god * & grow for euermore ; but to these men of the mold * marvell me thinketh in whatt hole of thy hart * thou thy wrath keepeth : 292 where ioy & gentlenesse * are ioyned 7 together
betweene his wight8 & his wiffe • & his winne9 children.
1	musters. Qu.—P. devices, tricks. —F.
2	servants.—F.
3	daintye, «&c. I have no scruple, ceremony. See Johnson, Ad Verb. 3d. sense. —-P. daintye, delight.—F.
4	fear—frighten. So in Shakespeare:
‘Warwick was a bug, that feared us all.’—S.
5	bremely, Yid. p. 246, St. 19, vid. p. 388, lin. 360.—P. ? briefly.—F.
6	Q,u. wate, Scot. i.e. wott.—P.
7	The i has an accent on it as if for c.
—F.	8 a wight.—P.	9 pleasant.—F.DEATH AND LIFFE.
69
& when ffaith & ffellowshipp * are hastened ffor aye, lone & charitye * w^ch onr lord likethe,
296 then thou waleth 1 them w^th wracke * & wratheffnlly beginneth;
yncurteonslye thon cometh * vnknowne of them all,
& laeheth 2 away the land * that the Lord holdeth, or woryes his wiffe * or waits 3 downe his children.
300 mikle woe thus thon waketh • where mirth was before, this is a deed of the devill * death, thon vsest; bnt if thon leane not thy lake 4 * & learne thee a better, thon wilt lach 5 att the last • a lothelich6 name.”
304 “ doe away, damsell,” qaoth death * “ I dread thee nonght!
of my losse 7 that I losse 8 * lay thon noe thonght; thon pronet mee full prestlye * of many proper thinge ; I hane not all kinds soe ill * as thon me vpbraydest; 308 where I wend on my way * the world will depart, bearnes wold be oner bold • bales ffor to want, the 7 sinnes for to serne * & sett them full ener,
& gine no glory vnto god • that sendeth ys all grace. 312 if the dint of my dart * deared9 them nener,
to lett them worke all their will * itt were litle Ioy. shold I for their fayrnesse * their ffoolishnes allowe, my liffe (gine thon me leane) • noe Leed 10 vpon earth 316 bnt I shall master his might * manger his cheekes as a Conqneronr keene * biggest of other, to deale dolefnll dints * & doe as my list; for I fayled nener in fight * bnt I the ffeild wan
thou
destroyest
their lands or loved ones :
a deed of the devil.”
Death answers:
“ I am not so guilty as you, Life, would make me.
Prevent men from sinning,
and subdue them all.
Never have I failed in fight.
1	to wale, eligere, forte hie transitive pro ‘ to make to wail.’—P. waleth = afflictest. A.-S. wcslan, to afflict, vex. —Sk.
2	lach, latche. To take, catch, snatch. A.-S. Icecccm, comprehendere, rapere. Urry in Chauc^ —P.
3	A.-S. wceltctn, to roll, tumble.—F.
4	lake, lndere. Lye.—P.
5	A.-S. leeccan, gelcsccan, to take, catch,
seize. (See note 2.)—F.
6	i.e. loathsome.—P.
7	praise, fame.—F.
8	lose.—P.
9	Lere, Chauc° est Icedere, nocere. Lye.
—P.
10	Leed, leid, a Person (Scottish). G-loss. to Ramsay’s Evergreen, leid, a man, from leod, Sax. Homo. G-loss. ad Gr. L. —P.70
DEATH AND LIEFE.
I killed Adam, Methuselah,
J oseph,
Abraham,
Saul,
Jonathan,
David,
Solomon,
Alexander,
Arthur,
Hector,
Lancelot,
G-allaway,
and all the knights of the Round Table.
I jousted with Jesus,
320 sith tlie ffirst ffreake * that formed was euer,
& will not leaue till the last bee * on the beere layd. but sitt sadlye,1 thy liffe 2 * & 3 soothe thou shalt know. If euer any man vpon mold * any mirth had,
324 that leaped away with thee, liffe * & laughed me to scorne,
but I dang them with my dints * vnto the derffe4 earthe.
both Adam & Eue * & Abell, I killed ;
Moyses & Methasula * & the meeke Aronn	[page 3s9]
328 Iosua & Ioseph * & Iacob the smoothe,
Abraham & Isace * & Esau the roughe;
Samuell,5 for all his ffingers * I slew with my hands,
& Ionathan, his gentle sonne * in Gilboa hills;
332 david dyed on the dints ' that I delt oft,
soe did Salomon his sonne * that was sage holden,
& Alexander alsoe * to whomjall the world lowted ; in the middest of his mirth * I made him to bow;
336 the hye honor that he had * helped him but litle;
when I swang him on the swire6 ‘ to swelt7 him behoued.
Arthur of England * & Hector the keene, both Lancelott & leonades * with other leeds manye, 340 & Gallaway the good Knight * & Gawaine the hynde,8 & all the rowte I rent * ffrom the round table : was none soe hardye nor soe hye * soe holy nor soe wicked,
but I burst them with my brand * & brought them assunder.
344 how shold any wight weene • to winn me on ground ? haue not I lusted gentlye • with Iesu of heauen P
1	seriously, composed, still.—P.
2	Thou Life.—P.
3	the.—P.
4	See pag. 116, St. 39.—P. fierce, cruel.—P.
5	Saul, lege.—P.
6	swire, swim, swir-ban, collum, cervix.
—P.
7	Swelt, S. swelt an > obire, lauguescere. Swelt, to be choaked, suffocated, die. Gloss, ad G. L.—P.
8	hende, as in 1. 107.—Sk.DEATH AND IjIFFE.
71
348
352
he was frayd of my fface * in ffreshest of time, yett I knocked him on the crosse * & earned1 thronghe his hart.”
& w^th that shee cast of her crowne • & kneeled downe lowe
when shee minned 2 the name * of that noble prince; soe did liffe vpon land * & her leeds all both of heanen and of earth * & of hell ffeends, all they lowted downe lowe • their hard to honor, then liffe kneeled on her knees * w^'th her crowne in
and pierced his heart.”
At Christ’s name all kneel.
Life
her hand,
& looketh yp a long while * towards the hye heanen • shee riseth vpp rndlye 3 • & dresseth her to speake,
356 shee calleth to her companye * & biddeth them 4 come then calls
her company
neere,	to her,
both Kings and Qneenes * & comelye dnkes:
“ worke wiselye b^yowr witts * my words to heare that I speake ffor yo^r speed * & spare itt noe longer.” 5 360 then shee tnrneth to them * & talketh these words, fna says: shee sayth6 : “dame death, of thy deeds * now is thy doome shapen
through thy wittles words • that thon hast carped, which thon makest wtth thy month * & mightylye ayowes.7
364 thon hast blowen thy blast * breemlye 8 abroade
how hast thon wasted this world * sith wights were first,
Thou hast boasted of thy murders of .men,
ener mnrthered & marde • thon makes thy avant.9 of one point lett ys prone * or10 wee part in snnder :
1	carve, secare, incidere, sculpere. Jun. See also Johnson : Sense 6^-—P.
2	minn, ming, to mention. Vid. Iun.
Lye.—P. The alliteration and sense
both show it should he nemned. nem is
miswritten min.—Sk.
8 rude, is stiff, strong. It. forcible,
vehement, apwd Gr. Douglas.—P. ? for
radlye. A.-Sax. radlice, quickly, speedily.
—P	4 thenn MS.--F.
5	The next two pages are borrowed from P. PI. Passus xviii.—Sk.
6	On these introductory words, see Mr. Skeat’s Essay on Allit. Metre.—E.
7	avowest.—P.
8	forte breemlye, breme, est atrox, ferox; A.-Sax. bremetn, fremere. Lye. vid. p. 246, St. 19, 388, 1. 283.—P. MS. breenlye or breitlye.—F.
9 boast.—Sk.	10 ere.—Sk,72
DEATH AND LIFFE.
of jousting with Jesus.
But he
conquered
thee.
Thou didst heat and Tbuffet him, and wound him on the cross
with a spear.
But the glory of his Godhead
drove thee into Hell,
where thou toldest
368 how didest thou lust att Ierusalem * wtth Iesu my lord, where thou deemed his deat[h] * in one dayes time ? there was thou shamed, & shent1 • & stripped ffor aye ! when thou saw the King come * wdh the crosse on his shoulder ;
372 on the top of Caluarye * thou earnest him against ; like a traytour vntrew ' treason thou thought ; thou layd vpon my leege lord * lotheliche hands, sithen beate him on his body • & buffetted him rightlye,
376 till the railinge 2 red blood * ran from his s[i]des, sith rent him on the rood * wtth ffull red wounds, to all the woes that him wasted * I wott not ffew, tho deemedst to haue3 beene dead * & dressed for euer.
380 but, death, how didst thou then * with. all thy derffe 4 words,
when thou prickedst att his pappe * with the poynt of a speare,
& touched the tabernackle * of his trew hart where my bower was bigged 5 • to abyde for euer?
384 when the glory of his godhead * glented 6 in thy face, then was thou feard of this fare * in thy false hart ; then thou hyed into hell hole • to hyde thee beliue ; thy fawchon flew out of thy fist * soe fast thou thee hyed;
388 thou durst not blushe 7 once backe * for better or worsse but drew thee downe ffull * in that deepe hell,
& bade them barre bigglye 8 * Belzebub his gates, then thé told 9 them tydands * that teened them sore,
1	shend, shewt, confundere dedecor are. hye.-P.
2	railing, ralis, apud G-. Dong8, is, springs, gushes forth, runs. JEn. xi. 724, Cruor ¿f Vulsce labuntur ab anthere plum®, -which, is thus rendered “ al the blude ha-boundantly furth mils” and—the “licht downis up to the skyis glydis.” rciyled is used by Chaucer in this Sense.—P.
3	him to have.—P.
4	Vid. P. 116 [of MS.]—P.
5	big, Scotis est condere, sedificare. Lye—P.
6	to glent, to glance. Urry. In Chauc? “ Her eyin glent aside.” Tr. & Ores.— P.
7	so we say “ at first blush.” See Johnson.—P,
8	biggly, i.e. mightily.—P.
9	thou toldest.—P.DEATH AND LIEFE.
73
392 how that King came * to kithen 1 his strenght,	how Christ’s
& how shee had beaten thee on thy bent * & thy brand Sfehadllg
beaten thee.
taken,
w7th enerlasting liffe * that longed 2 him till, then the sorrow was ffull sore * att Sathans hart;
396 hee threw ffeends in the ffyer * many ffell thousands ;
&, death, thou dange itt on * whilest thou dree 3 might; for ffalte of thy ffawchyon * thou fought w^th thy hand, host this neuer of thy red deeds * thou ravished bitche! Boast not, 400 thou may shrinke for shame • when the sooth heares. bitch! then I leapt to my lord • that caught me vpp soone,
& all wounded as hee was * w^th weapon in hand For Christ
1	followed
he fastened foote vpon earth * &• fFollowed thee ifast thee to Hell, 404 till he came to the caue * that cursed was holden. .
he abode before Barathron ’ that bearne, while he liked,
thaf was euer merke as midnight * with mour[n]inge & sorrowe ;
he cast a light on the Land * as beames on 4 the sunn.
40S then cryed that King * with a cleere steuen,5
“ pull open yo^r ports * you princes within !	and bade its
“	,	princes open
here shall come in the Kina * crowned with ioy,	its gates
and receive
which is the hyest burne 6 * in battell to smite.”	their King.
412 there was ffleringe7 of ffeends * throughe the fyer gaynest,7
hundreds hurled on heapes * in holes about;
the broad gates, all of brasse * brake all in sunder, The gates
burst
& the King with, his crosse * came in before.	asunder.
416 he leapt vnto Lucifer * that Kord himselfe,	Christ bound
x	1	Lucifer,
then he went to the tower * where chaynes were manye,
1	Kythe, to appear, Item, to make appear, to show, ab A.S. cy%an, narrare, ostendere. cy%e notitia, cy^Sere martyr, testis. Gloss, ad G-. Doug.—P.
2	belonged.—Sk.
8 dree, Qu.—P. dree = endure, hold
out.	A.-Sax. dreogan. This is from
Goth, driugan = serve as a soldier, fight,
the very sense here, viz. to hold out in fighting.—Sk.
4	of. —P. Should be lemes of. beame is a stupid alteration for lerne, and destroys the chief-letter.—Sk.
5	voice, sound. Lye.—P.
6	Qu. barne.—P.
7	? fleinge. gaynest = quickest.—Sk.74
DEATH AND LIFFE.
& bound him soe biglye * that bee for bale rored. death, thou daredst1 that day * & durst not be seene 420 ffor all the glitering gold * vnder god himseluen.
[page 390] Then to the tower hee went • where chanes are many;
rescued Adam and Eve,
Abraham,
Daniel, and 424 many more.
He freed me from death, and we went forth
together, 428 leaving thee, Death, in the dungeon of devils.
hee tooke Adam & Eue • out of the old world, Abraham & Isacc * & all that hee wold, david, & danyell * & many deare bearnes that were put into prison • & pained ffull long, he betooke me the treasure * that neuer shall haue end, that neuer danger of death * shold me deere after, then wee wenten fforth * winlye2 together,
& Left the dungeon of devills * & thee, death, in the middest.
& now thou prickes ffor pride * praising thy seluen !
My children, therfore bee not abashed * my barnes soe deere,
fear not then
Death’s 432 of her ffauehyon soe ffeirce * nor of her ffell words.
sword.
shee hath noe might, nay no meane • no mor^you to
greeue,
nor on jour comelye corsses * to clapp once her hands. I shall looke you ffull liuelye * & latche ffull well,
I shall lead 436 & keere 3 yee ffurther of this kithe 4 * aboue the cleare
you up to
Heaven.	skyeS.
Love Mary,	If yee [loue] well5 the Ladye * that light in 6 the may den,
& be christened w^th creame1 * & in jour creede
be christened,	beleeue,
and fear not 440 Death;
she cannot meddle with everlasting Life.”
haue no doubt8 of yonder death * my deare children; for yonder [death] is damned * wtth devills to dwell, where is wondering, & woe * & wayling ffor sorrow, death was damned that day • Daring ffull still, shee hath no might, nay no maiue 9 * to meddle wtth yonder ost,
1	deredst.—P. This daring, 1. 442, is Chaucer’s dare, said of a hare that lies and dares. See Morris, Specimens, p. 436, note to Werwolf, 1. 15.—Skeat.
2	A.-S. wynlice, joyously.—F.
3	turn?—Sk.
4	A.-S. ctftS, a region ; cy$&e, a home, native country.—F.
5	ye serve well, or love. Qu.—P.
6	hight is. Qu.-—P.
7	chreame, Grr. xPl(rfjLa> gallice chresme, oleum sacratum quo in Bapt“0 utebantur. Lye.—P.
8	fear.—Sk.
9	maine, S. mceyn, robur, vis. Nescio an Might respiciat animi, Main, "vim corporis. Lye.—P.DEATH AND LIFFE.
75
444 against enerlasting liffe * that Ladye soe true.” then my Lady dame liffe * with Lookes soe gay, that was comelye cladd * with ehristall1 and Mantle, Then Life all the dead on the ground * donghtilye 2 3 shee rayseth dead,
448 fairer by 2 ffold • then they before were.
with that shee hyeth ouer the hills * with hundreds ffull and hied
^	away with
many e.3	hundreds.
I wold haue ffollowed on that faire 4 * but no further I i tried to . ,	follow,
might;
what with wandering 5 & with woe * I waked beliue.
452 thus fared I throw a ffrith * in a ffresh time,
where I sayd a sleepe * in a slade greene;	•	but awoke,
there dreamed I the dreame • which dread all be- Such was
my dream.
frighted.
but hee that rent all was 6 on the rood * riche 7 itt him-seluen,
456 & bring vs to his blisse * with blessings enowe! therto Iesu of Ierusalem • grant vs thy grace,
& saue there our howse * holy for euer! Amen!
ffins.
May Christ fulfil it, and bring us to His bliss!
1	kyrtle Query, petticoat. Lat. En-
combomata. Jun.—P.	A word like
plicor follows in the MS., but is not in Junius.—F.
2	doughty, strenuus, impavidus, ani-mosus. J un.—P.
3	Only half the n in the MS.—F.
4	fair thing, Scik —P.
6 Only one stroke for the second n in the MS.—F.
6	was all rent. Qu.—P. all is de trop. —Sk.
7	? rule, control. A.-S. ricsian. Or riche=rithe, rihte, set right.--Sk.76
$tiam : 3BeII : dime of tfre CIougDbe] &
M9 tilt am : off ClottOtsilie t1
The version here given of this well-known ballad differs very slightly from that printed by Copland circ. 1550, reprinted (with some alterations from the Folio) in the Reliques, and again by Eitson in his Pieces of Popular Poetry.
The ballad is no doubt far older than the oldest copy extant. Dunbar (who died circ. 1530) makes mention of one of its three famous heroes. A fragment of an edition older than that published by Copland has been recovered by Mr. Payne Collier.
[The First Part.]
[How ‘ Cloudeslee is tane and damned to death.’]
It’s merry to hunt in the green forest.
Merrye : itt was in the greene fforrest amonge the leanes greene, wheras men hunt East & west 4 w^th bowes & arrowes keene,
And Til tell you of 3 northern yeomen,
to raise the deere out of their den ;
such sights has oft beene seene, as by 3 yeomen of the north countrye, 8 by them itt is I meane.
Adam Bell, Clym of the Cloughe, and William Clowdeslee,
the one of them hight Adam Bell, another Clymm of the Cloughe, the 3^ was william of Clowdeslee, 12 an archer good enoughe.
1 In 3 Parts. KB. This is in print in Old Black Letter. Some corrections may he had from this.—P.77
ADAM BELL, ETC.
they were outlawed for venison,	outlawed for
taking
these yeomen eueryeehe one ;	venison,
they swore then1 brethren on a day 16 to English wood for to gone.
now lithe 2 & listen, gentlemen that of mirth louetli to heare !
2 of them were single men,
20 the 3^ had a weded ifere.3
willmm was the weded man ;
4 much more then was his care, hee sayd to his brethren vpon a day, 24 to Carleile hee wold fare,
William is married,
and says he'll go to Carlisle
there to speake w^th faire Allice his wiffe and his children three.
“ by my truth,” said Adam Bell,
28	“ not by the councell of mee ;
to see his wife and children.
Adam
warns him
“ for if wee 5 goe to Carlile, Brother, & from this wylde wood wende,
If that the Iustice doe you take,
32 jouy liffe is att an end.”
that he’ll be taken.
“ If that I come not to Morrow, brother, by prime 6 to you againe, trust you then that I am tane 36 or else that I am slaine.”
hee tooke his leaue of his brethren 2,
& to Carlile hee is gone ; there he knocked att his owne windowe 40 shortlye and anon.
1	them. Reliques (collated only now and then).—F.
2	lithe, attend, hearken, listen. Lye.
—P.
William goes to his home,
knocks for
3	fere, companion. Inn.—P.
4	One stroke too many in the MS.—F.
5	ye.—Eel.
6	MS. prine.—F.78
ADAM BELL, CLIME OE THE CLOUGHE,
his wife,		“ where be you, ffayre Alliee P ” he sayd,
		“ my wifFe, and children three ?
and tells her to let him in.	44	lightlye lett in thy owne husband, William of Clowdeslee.”
She says the place is watched.		“ alas ! ” then sayd ffaire Allice, and sighed yerry sore, “ This place hath beene beset for you [page 39i]
	48	this halfe a yeere & more.”
“ Let me in, and give me food.’»		“ now am I heere,” said Clowdeslee,
		“ I wold that in I were ;
		now ffeitch yis1 meate & drinke enoughe,
	52	& lett ys make good cheere.”
She doe3 so.		shee ffeitcht him meate & drinke plentye, like a true weded wide; & pleased him with that shee had,
	56	whom shee loued as her liife.
An old		there lay an old wifFe in the place,
woman kept 7 years by William’s charity		a litle before 2 the fFyer, which willmm had found of charytye
	60	more then seauen yeere.
goes to		yp shee rose, & forth shee goes,— Euill mote shee speede therfore !— for shee had sett3 no fFoote on ground
	64	not 7 yeere before.
the Justice,		shee went into the Iustice hall
		as ffast as shee cold hye:
and tells him Clowdeslee. is at home.	68	“ this night,” shee sayd, “ is come to towne William of Clowdeslee.”
? MS. for vus, or vs, us.—F. besyde.—Bel.
One stroke too many in the MS.—F.AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
79
therof the Iustiee was full fame,1 soe was the Sherriffe alsoe;
“ thou shalt not trauell hither, dame, for nought;
72 “thy meede thou shalt haue ere thou goe.”
they gaue to her a right good gowne,— of scarlett itt was, as I heard saine,2— shee tooke the gift, & home shee went,
76	& couched her downe againe.
they raysed the towne of Merry Carlile in all they hast they can,
& came thronging to w^llmms house 80 as fast as they might gone ;
there they besett the good yeaman about on euerye syde. willmm heard great noyse of the ffolkes 84	that thitherward fast hyed.
Alice opened a backe windowe,
& looked all about:
shee was ware of the Iustiee & Sherr[i]ffe both,
88	& with them 3 a ffull great rout.
“Allice,4 treason! ” then cryed Allice,
“ Euer woe may thou bee ! goe into my chamber, sweet husband, ” shee sayd, 92	“ Sweete William of Clowdeslee.”
he tooke his sword & his buckeler, his bow, & his children 3 ; he went into the strongest chamber,
96 where he thought the surest to bee.
3	One stroke too many in
4	Alas.—Bel.
He is glad,
and gives her a scarlet gown.
Then he raises the town,
and
surrounds
William’s
house.
William’s wife Alice
sees them,
and sends William into her room.
the MS.—F.
glad.—P.
Of scarlate, and of graine.—Bel.80
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE.
She seizes a poleaxe.
William shoots the Justice on the breast,
but it is armoured.
The Justice calls on him to yield,
and orders the house to be fired. ]
His men fire it.
William lets his wife and children out of a window,
and prays
the Justice to spare them.
ffayre Allice, like a louer true, tooke a Pollaxe in her hand ; said, “ hee shall dye that cometh in 100 this dore, while I may stand.”
Cloudeslye bent a right good bow that was of a trustye tree ; he smote the Iustice on the brest 104 that his arrowe burst in 3.
“ gods curse on his heart,” sayd william,
“ this day thy cote did on ! if itt had beene no better then mine,
108 itt had beene neere the bone.”
“yeelde thee, Cloudeslee,” said the Iustice,
“ & the bow & arrowes thee froe.”
“ gods cursse on his hart,” sayd faire Allice, 112	“ that my husband eouncell[e]th soe ! ”
“ sett ffire on the house,” said the shirriffe,
“ sith itt will noe better bee ;
& burne wee there william,” he sayth,
116	“ his wiffe & his Children 3.”
thé ffyred the house in many a place, the ffyer ffledd on hye 1 :
“ alas ! ” then said ffayre Allice,
120	“ I see here wee shall dye.”
willmm opened a backe windowe that was in his chamber hye ;
& there with sheetes he did let downe 124 his wiffe and children 3.
“haue you here my treasure,” said Willmm, “ my wiffe & Children 3 ; for gods loue doe them noe hareme,
128 but wreake you all on mee ! ”
1 And burnt the old woman and her scarlett gowne, I hope.—F.AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
81
Willmm shott soe wonderous well	He shoots
Till his arrowes were all agoe,	[page 3923
& ffire soe ffast about him ffell 132 that bis bow string burnt in to we.
tbe sparkles brent & fell vpon	but the fire
gains on
good willmm of Clowdeslee ;	him,
but then was bee a wofull man, & sayd “ tbis is a cowards death to me !
u leever bad I,” said willmm,
u wtth my sword in tbe rout to runn, then here amonge my enemyes wood 1 140 soe cruellye to burne.”
be tooke bis sword & bis buckeler then,
& amongst them all bee ran : where tbe people thickest were,
144 be smote downe many a man ;
there might no man abide bis stroakes, soe ffeircleye on them bee rann. then thé threw windowes & dores att him,
& then thé tooke that yeoman.	but is taken,
there they bound him band & ffoote,
& in a deepe dungeon 2 him cast.
“now Clowdeslee,” sayd tbe Iustice,
“ thou sbalt be banged in bast.”
“ one yow shall I make,” sayd tbe Shirriffe,	The Sheriff
“ a paire of new gallowes shall I ifor thee make ; 3 himmalses & all tbe gates of Garble sbalbe sbutt ;	gaiiows?eW
there shall noe man come in tberatt.
and cast into a dungeon.
152
156
He rushes out,
and kills many,
and he resolves to cut his way
through his foes.
1 i.e furious.—P.	3 A payr of new gallowes, sayd the
2	One stroke too few for an in the MS.	sherife,
—F.	Now shall I for the make.—Bel.
YOL. III.
G82
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
“there shall not helpe yett Clym of the Cloughh, nor yett Adam Bell, tho they came with. a 100^ men,
160 nor all the devills in hell.”
Next morning Carlisle gates are shut,
Brlye in the morninge 1 the Instice arose ;
to the gates ffast can hee gone,
& commanded to shntt close 164 lightlye euery-eche one.
then went hee to the markett place as ffast as hee cold hye ;
and the new	there he new a paire of gallowes he sett ypp 2
gallows set
up.	168 hard by the pillorye.
A little boy (who is Clowdeslee’s swineherd) sees them,
a litle boy stood them amonge,
& asked what meant that gallow tree, the said, “ to hang a good yeoman 172 called william of Clowdeslee.”
the litle boy was towne swinarde,
& kept ffaire Allice swine; full oft hee had seene wilh'am in the wood, 176	& giuen him there to dine.
he went out att a crevis of the wall; runs to the	lightlye to the wood hee runn;
wood5	there mett hee w^th these wightye yeomen
180	shortlye & anon :
and tells Clowdeslee’s mates of his danger.
“ alas ! ” then said the litle boy,
“ you tarry here all too longe; Cloudeslee is tane, & damned to death, 184 and readye to be hanged.3 ”
1 Only half the second n in the MS.	—P. A payre of new gallows there he
—P.	^	set up.—Bel.
2	a new paire of gallowes he set up. 8 hung.—P,AND WILLIAM OF CL0I7PESLEE.
83
“ Alas,” then sayd good Adam Bell,
“ that euer wee saw this day ! he had better hane tarryed w^th vs,
188 soe oft as wee did him pray.
“ hee might hane dwelt in greene fforrest vnder the shaddoowes 1 greene,
& kept both him & vs att rest,
192 out of all trouble and teene.2 ”
Adam bent a right good bowe ;
a great hart soone hee had slaine :
“ take that, child,” hee said, “to thy dinner,
196	& bring me mine arrowe againe.”
(( now goe wee hence,” said these iollye 3 yeomen,
“ tarry wee no longer here ; wee shall him borrow, by gods grace,
200 tho wee buy itt dull deere.”
to Carlile went* these bold 4 yeomen, all in a mor[n]inge of may. here is a ffitt of Clowdeslee;
204 another is ffor to say.
1 shadowes.—Bel. shadowes sheene.—	2 i.e. vexation. Jun.—I
Printed Copy, in Bel.	3 wightye.—Bel.
Adam Bell laments Clowdeslee’s fate,
shoots a hart for the hoy,
and then goes with Clim to Carlisle.
4 good.—Bel.84
ADAM BELL* CLIME OP THE CLOUGHE,
[The Second Part.]
[How Clowdeslee is rescued by Adam Bell and Clim of the Cloughe.]
They find Carlisle gates shut.
208
2 f parte.
212
""And when they came [to *] merry Oarlile all in a morning tyde, they found the gates shutt them ynto round about on euerye syde.
“Alas,” then said good Adam Bell,
“ that euer wee were made men ! these gates be shutt soe wonderous ffast that we may not come therin.”
then spake Clim of the Cloughe:
“ w^th a wile wee will ys in bringe :
Lett ys say wee be messengers	[page 393]
216 straight come ffrom our Kinge.”
Adam said, “ I haue a Letter well [written 1 2 ;] now lett ys wiselye marke 3 ; wee will say wee haue the Km^s seale ;
220 I hold the porter no clarke.”
Clim proposes “ Let’s say we are the King’s messengers.”
Adam beats at the gates,
then Adam Bell beate att the gates with strokes hard and stronge. the Porter marueiled who was theratt, 224	& to the gates hee thronge.
“ who be there,” said the Porter,
“ that makes all this knockinge 4 P ”
says they’re	“ we be 2 messengers,” Q^oth Clim of the Cloughe,
the King’s 228	“ be come right ffrom our Kinge.”
messengers.	°	°
1	to.—P.
2	written.—Bel,
3	werke.—Bel,
4	dinne.—Bel.AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
85
“wee hane a letter,” said Adam Bell,
“ to the Iustice wee must itt bringe; let ys in our message to doe,
232 that wee were againe to the Kinge.”
“ here cometh none in,” said the porter, “ by him that dyed on a tree, till that ffalse theefe be hanged,
236 called willmm of Cloudeslee.”
then spake good 1 Clim of the Clongh,
& swore by Marye ifree,
“ if that wee stand long without,
240 like a theefe hanged thon shalt bee.
“ Loe ! here wee hane the 'Kings seale !
what, Lurden,2 art thon woode P ” the Porter [weend 3] itt had beene soe, 244	& lightlye did off his hoode.
“ welcome is my Lords seale ! ” he said;
“for that yon shall come in.” he opened the gates shortlye:
248 an enill opening ffor him !
“ Now are wee in,” said Adam Bell,
“ wheroff wee are right ffaine; bnt christ hee knowes assnredlye 4 252 how wee shall gett ont againe.”
The Porter at first refuses to let them in,
hut they show him the King’s seal,
and then he lets them in.
“ had wee the Keyes,” sayd Clim of the Clonghe, To make “ right well then shold wee speede;	getting out,
then might wee come ont well enonge 256 when wee see time & neede.”
1 the good yeman.—Bel.	3 thought.—P. went.—Eel. i.e. weened,
2 a heavy stupid fellow. L.—P.	note ib.
4 knowes, that harrowed hell.—Bel.ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
86
they wring the Porter’s neck, and take his keys away.
thé called the Porter to corniceli, & wrang his necke in towe ;
& cast him in a deepe du[n]geon, 260	& tooke his keyes him ffroe.
“ now am I Porter,” sayd Adam Bell;
“ see, brother, the Keyes hane wee here ; the worst Porter in merry Carlile 264 that came 1 this 100? yeere.
Then they
“ now wee will our bowes bend, into the towne will wee goe, ffor to deliuer our deere Brother 268 that lyeth in care & woe.”
bend their bows,
and go to the marketplace,
then they ben[t] their good ewe bowes, & looked their strings were round 2 : the Markett .place in merry Carlile 272 they besett in that stonde.3
& as they looked them beside,
a paire of new gallowes there they see, & the Iustice w^th a quest4 of Squiers 276 that iudged willmm hanged to bee.
where Olowdeslee is bound, and has a rope round his neck.
& Clowdeslee lay ready there in5 a Cart, ffast bound both ffoote and hand ;
& a strong rope about his necke,
280 all readye ffor to hange.
1	The have had.—Bel.
2 qu. sound.—P.	So Ascham says,
“ The stringe must he rounde.” Toccoph.
,p. 149, Ed. 1761. A precept not very intelligible now. P.’s note in Beliques, i.
142. A string not round would of course spoil the shooting.—F.
3	stound, signum, Momentum, hora, spatium, tempus. Lye.—P.
4	quest, search; searchers collectively —also an impanel’d Jury. See Johnson. —P.
5	MS. therein.—F.AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
87
the Iustice called to him a Ladd:
Clowdeslee clothes hee shold haue, to take the measure of that yeoman,
284 therafter to make his grane.
“ T haue seene as great Maryeill,” said Oloudeslee,
“ as hetweene 1 this and prime 2 ; he that maketh a grane ffor mee,
288	himselfe may lye therin.”
u thon speakest proudlye,” said the Instice;
“ I will thee hang W'ith my hand.” ffull well hard this his brethren towe 292 there still as they did stand.
then Cloudeslee cast his eye aside,
& saw his tow brethren att a corner of the Markett place 296	ready the Instice to slaine.
“ I see comfort,” said Cloudeslee,
“ yett hope I well to ffare ;
If I might hane my hands att will,	[page 394]
300 right litle wold I Care.”
then spake good Adam Bell
to Clim of the Clonghe soe ffree,
“ brother, see yon marke the Instice well;
304 loe, yonder yon may him see ! ”
u att the shirriffe shoote I will stronglye w^th an arrow keene ; a better shoote in merry Carlile 308 this 7 yeere was not seene.”
1 Only half the w in the MS.—F.	2 prime, the first Part
Dawn, morning. Johnson.—
The Justice sends a lad
to measure him for his grave, ‘
and
threatens to hang
Clowdeslee
himself.
Clowdeslee says he’d care little if he could get his hands free.
Adam tells Clim to
shoot the Justice,
while he shoots the Sheriff.
3f the day. -P.88
ADAM BELL* CLIME OE THE CLOUGHE,
They both shoot ;
and Sheriff and Justice
get their
death-
wounds.
They loose Clowdeslee.
He seizes an axe and smites men down.
Adam and Clim shoot on
and kill many,
they loosed their arrowes both att once ;
of no man had they dread ; the one hitt the shirr[i]ffe, the other the Instice, 312 that both their sides can bleede.
all men voyded that them stoode nye when the Instice ffell to the gronnd,
& the shirriffe nye him by :
316 either had his deathes wonnd.
all they citizens hast gan fflye, they dnrst no longer abyde. there lightlye they losed Clowdeslee.
320 where hee with ropes lay tyde.
william, start to an officer of the towne, his axe ont of his hand hee wrnnge ; on eche side he smote them downe,
324 hee thonght hee tarryed all to longe,
willmm said to his brethren towe,
“ this day lett ys line and dye ;
If ener yon hane need as I hane now,
328 the same shall yon ffind by mee.”
they shott soe well that tyde,
for their stringes were of silke snre, that thé kept the streetes on enery side ;
332 that battell long did endnre.
they fonght together like brethren true, like hardy men and bold ; many a man to the gronnd they threw,
336	& made many a hart cold.1
And many a heart made cold.—P. and Bel,AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
89
but when their arrowes were all gone, men pressed to them ffull hast ; they drew their swords then anon,
340	& their bowes ffrom them cast.
they went lightlye on their way wïth swords & buckelers round : by that itt was midd 1 of the day,
344 thé made many a wound.
there was many an outhorne 2 in Carlile was blowne, & the bells backward did ringe ; many a woman said “ alas ! ”
348	& many their hands did ringe.
the Maior of Carleile fforth come was,
& -with, him a ffull great route ; these yeomen dread him ffull sore,
352 for of their liues they stoode in great doubt.
the Maior came armed a ffull great pace,
W'ffh a Pollaxe in his hande ; many a strong man w^th him was,
356 there in that stowre 3 to stand.
they maior smote att Cloudeslee w^th his bill, his buckeler brast in 2 ; ffull many a yeaman wt'th great euill,
360	“ alas, treason Î ” thé cryed ffull woe 4 :
“ keepe well the gates,” ffast they bade,
“ that these trayters thereout not goe.”
1 middle, middst.—P.	Gloss.—Skeat.
2	Out-horne. An outlaw (!). Halli- 3 fight, conflict, Lye.—P,
well’s Gloss.—F. Bead a nouthorne, a ■	4 Alas! they cryed for wo.-
neat’s horn. Nowt cattle. Wright’s
till their arrows fail.
Then they draw their swords,
and by noon kill many men.
The horns are blown, and bells rung backwards.
The Mayor comes down with a force
of strong men,
cuts
Clowdeslee’s buckler in two,
and orders the gates to be kept fast.
-Rel.90
ADAM BELL, CLIME , OF THE CLOUCHE,
but all ffor naugbt was that they wrought, But the * 364 ffor soe fast they were downe Layd,
three get
safely out.	till they all 3 that soe manffully Sought
were gotten out att a brayde.1
Adam
throws back the keys, and tells the people to appoint a new Porter.
“ haue here yo^r key es ! ” said Adam Bell, 368	“ mine ofS.ce here I fiforsake ;
If you doe by my Councell, a new Porter doe you make.”
he threw their keyes att their heads, 372	& bad them euill2 to thriue,
& all that letteth any good yeoman to come & comfort his wiflfe.
The three
thus be the good yeomen gone to the wood: 376	as lightlye as leaue on lynde 3
they laugh & be merry in their wood 4 ; there enemyes were ffarr behind.
go to the
trysting tree, . find fresh bows and arrows,
when they came to merry greenwood,
380 vnder the trustye tree,
there they ffound bowes ffull good,
And arrowes great plentye.	[page 395]
“ soe god me help ! ” sayd Adam Bell 384	& Clim of the Cloughe soe ffree,
“I wold wee were in Merry Carlile before that ffaire Meanye.”
thé sate downe & made goode cheere,
and eat and 388	& eate & dranke ffull well,
drink well.
a 2d flStt of the wightye yeomen : another I will you tell.
1	Q,u. all abraide, i.e. abroad. North
Country dialect: abroad,/oris, est a broad,
Scot, braid, latus, quod a Sax. brad, al.
breider. Jun.—P. “att a brayde” is-suddenly.—F.
2	No i in the MS.—F.
3	Linden Tree. Lye. A Lime Tree. Grloss. to Gr. Doug.—P.
4	A manifest mistake for “ mood,” which the other copies have.—Dyce.AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
91
[The Third Part.]
[How the three Outlaws are pardoned by the King, and shoot before him.]
'"As they sate in English woode 392	vnder the greenwoode tree,
they thought they hard a woman weepe, but her they cold not see,
3* parte. <:
396
sore then sighed ffaire Allice,
& said, “ alas that euer I saw this day ! ffor [nowe *] is my dere husband slaine ; alas, and wellaway !
They hear a woman
lamenting
that her husband is slain.
“ Might I haue spoken w^th his deare brethren, 400 or w&th either of them twaine, to show them what him befell, my hart were out of paine.”
Cloudeslee walked a litle aside;
404 hee looked vnder the greenewood lynde ; hee was ware of his wiffe & Children 3 hull woe in hart and minde.
Clowdeslee finds that she is his wife, with his three children.
u welcome wiffe,” then said willmm,	He welcomes
7	’	them,
408	“ vnder the trustye tree !
I had wend yesterday, by sweet S4 Iohn,
thou sholdest me neuer had see.”
“ now well is me/’ she said, “ that yee be here ! 412 my hart is out of woe.”
“ dame,” he said, abe merry & gladd,
& thanke my bretheren to we.”
and tells his wife to thank his mates.
1 nowe.—Bel.92
ADAM BELL, OLIME OP THE CLOHOHE.
“ Don’t talk of that,” says Adam:
“ herof to speake,” said Adam Bell, 416	“ I-wis itt is noe boote ;
“ let’s shoot our supper.”
tbe meate that wee must supp wdh-all, itt runetb yett ffast on ffoote.”
Each of the three shoots a fat hart,
then went they downe into the Lawnde,1 420 these Noblemen all 3 ;
eche of them slew a hart of greece,2 they best that they cold see.
and	“ haue here the best, Allice my wiffe,”
Clowdeslee	J
gives the 424 saith willmm of Oloudeslee, best to his
wife*	“ because yee soe boldlye stood by mee
when I was slaine ffull nye.”
They sup
and are merry.
then they went to supper 428 w-ith such meate as they hadd, & thanked god ffor their ffortune: they were both merry and glad.
& when they had supped well,
432 certaine, without any lease,
Cloudeslee said, “ wee will to our King, to gett vs a Charter of peace;
“ Allice shalbe att our soiourninge 436 att a nunnerye heere besyde; my 2 sonnes shall wrth her goe,
& there they shall abyde.
Clowdeslee says “ We’ll go to the King for pardon.”
“My Eldest sonne shall goe wd)h mee, 440 for him I haue noe care,
& hee shall bring you word againe how that wee doe ffare.”
1 Qu. Lawne.—P. a launde.—Bel.
A clear space in a forest.—E,
Fr. graisse, fat.—E.AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
93
thus be these good yeomen to London gone	They then
444 as hast as they might hye,	London,
till they came to the "Kings palace where they wold needs bee.
but when they came to the Kmc/s court	walk
J	J	Straight
448	& to the pallace gate,
of no man wold they aske leaue,
but boldlye went in theratt.	into the
they proceeded prosentlye into the hall,	King’s hail,
452 of no man they had dread;
the Porter came after, & did them call,
& w^th them gan to chyde.
the vsher said, “ yeomen, what wold you haue ?
456 I pray you tell to mee;
you might make officers shent1 : good sirrs, ffrom whence bee yee P ”
“ Sir, wee be outlawes of the fforrest,	tell the
,	Usher who
460	certes W4thout any	Lease;	they are,
& hither wee be come to the Kmgr,
to gett ys a Charter of peace.”
& when they came before the Kinge,
464 as itt was the law of the land
they kneeled downe without lettinge,
& eche held Ypp his hande.
they sayd : “ Lore?, wee beseeche yee sure	and ask his
J J	1	't	pardon for
468	that yee will grant	ys grace !	deerng hiS
for wee haue slaine yo^r ffatt fallow deere in 2 many a sundrye place.”
1 For not keeping them out. See the Also JBoJce of Curtasye, 1. 361—78, Babees duties of Prince Edward’s Porters, a.d.	Book &c., p. 310.—F.
1474, in Household Ordinances, p. *30.	2 im in MS.—F.
and of Henry VIII.’s Porters, ibid. p. 239.
kneel to the King,94
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE.
The King asks their names.
They tell him.
He swears
he’ll hang them all,
and orders their arrest.
They pray him to let them go with the weapons they brought.
The King refuses: they shall be hanged. The Queen intercedes for them,
“ whatt be yo^r names ? ” tben sayd the King ; 472	“ anon that yon tell mee.”
They sayd, “Adam Bell, Clim1 of the Clough, [page and william of Cloudeslee.”
“be yee those theeues,” then said our Ki[ng], 476	“ that men haue told to me P
here I make a vow to god, you shall bee hanged all 3.
“yee shalbe dead without mercye,
480 as I am King of this land ! ”
he commanded his officer[s] euery one hast on them to lay hand.
there they tooke these good yeomen 484	& arrested them all 3.
“soe may I thriue,” said Adam Bell,
“ this game liketh not mee.
“ but, good Lord, wee beseeche you now 488 that yee will grant vs grace,
in soe much as wee doe to you come, or else that wee may from you passe 2
“ w^th such weapons as wee haue heere 492 till wee be out of yo^r place ;
&} iff wee liue this 100? yeere, of you wee will aske noe grace.”
“yee speake proudlye,” said the King ;
496	“ yee shall be hanged all 3.”
“ that were great pittye,” sayd the Queene,
“ if any grace might bee.
1 MS. Clinn.—F.
Insomuch as freie to you we comen, As freie fro you to passe.—Bel.AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
95
44 my Lord, when I came ffirst into this Land 500 to he your weded wiffe,
[you said] the ffirst boone that I wold aske, you wold grant me belyue.
44 & I asked yee neuer none till now;
504 therefore, good Lord, grant itt mee.”
44 now aske itt, Madam,” said the 'King,
44 & granted itt shalbe.”
44 then, good my Lord, I you beseeche,
508 these yeomen grant yee mee.”
44 Maddam,1 yee might haue asked a boone that shold haue beene worth them all 3.
44 you might haue asked towers & townes,
512	Parkes & fforrests plentye.”
44 none soe pleasant to my pay,2 ” shee sayd, 44nor none 3 soe leefe 4 to mee.”
44 Madam, sith itt is jouv desire,
516	yo^r askinge granted shalbe ;
but I had leever haue giuen you good Markett townes three.”
the Queene was a glad woman,
520	& said, 44 Lord, god a mercye !
I dare yndertake ffor them that true men they shalbee.
44 but, good Lord, speake some merrye word, 524 that some comfort they might see.”
441 grant you grace,” then said the King,
44 washe ffellowes, & to meate goe yee.”
and asks the King for the boon he promised her.
He says it shall be granted.
“ Then give me these yeomen.”
I will,
though I’d rather have given you 3 market towns.”
The Queen
then gets the King to order her men food.
1	MS. Maddan.—F.
2	vid. Page 363, St. 23 [of MS. ; in the 2nd Part of John de Reeve],—P.
3	nore in MS.—P.
4	leefe, dear, beloved. Johns? —P.96
ADAM BEIL, CLIME OF THE CLOXJGHE,
Soon come messengers
from
Carlisle.
The King a sics after his Justice and Sheriff. “ They’ve been slain
by Adam, Clim, and Clowdeslee.”
“ If I’d known this before, I’d have hung them.”
The King then reads of the 300 men slain by the 3 outlaws,
they had not sitten but a while,
528	certaine without Leasinge,1
there came 2 messengers out of the North wtth letters to our hinge.
& when they came before the 'King 532	thé kneeled downe vpon their knee,
& said, “ yo^r officers greete you well of Carlile in the North cunt rye.”
u how ffareth my Iustice ? ” sayd the King,
536	“ and my Sherriffe alsoe ? ”
“ S^r, they be slaine, without leasinge,
& many an officer moe.”
“ who hath them slaine ? ” then said the King ; 540	“ anon that you tell mee.”
“ Adam Bell, Clim of the Cloughe,
& william of Cloudeslee.”
“ alas ! ffor wrath,2 ” then sayd our King,
544	“ my hart is wonderous sore ;
I had rather then a 10001*
I had knowen this before,
“ffor I haue granted them grace,
548	& that fforthinketh 3 mee ;
but had I knowen all this before, they had beene hangd all 3.”
the King hee opened the letter anon,
552 himselfe he read itt thoe,
& there found how these outlawes had slaine 300 men and moe :
e. Lying. Jim.—P.	2 rewfch.—Eel.	3 repents.—F.AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
97
“ ffirst the Iustice & the Sheriffe,
556	& the Maior of Carlile towne,—	(the Mayor,
Catchpolls,
of all the Constables and catcpoules,
Aline were left bnt one.	[page 397]
“ the Baliffes & the Beadeles both,	Beadles,
560	& the Sargeannt of the law,	of Law**
& 40 fforresters of the ffee,	foresters
these ontlawes hane thé slawe,1
“ & broke his parkes, & slaine his deere,	and his deer
1	7	killed.
564 of all they Coice 2 the best;
soe perillous ontlawes as they were, walked not by East nor west.”
when the King this Letter had read, 568 in hart he sighed sore,
“ take yp the tables,3 ” then sayd hee, “ffor I can eate no more.”
He sighs,
and can eat no more.
the Kina then called his best archers	But he
d	calls his
572 to the bntts	W^tll him	to	goe,	archers
07	to shoot
“ to see 4 these ffellowes	shoot,” said hee,	against
“ that in the north hane wronght this woe.”
the Kings archers bnsket5 them blythe, 576 soe did the Qneenes alsoe,
soe did these 3 weightye yeomen, they thonght w^th them to goe.
there 2s? or 38f they shott about 580 for to assay their hand ;
there was no shoote these yeomen shott that any pricke 6 might stand.
1	slain.—P.
2	Qu. chose.—P.
3	They were laid on trestles.—P.
4	I wyll se.—Eel.
5	busked; Scot, busftit, dress’d, decked
(a Fr. busc, a busk that weomen (so) Wear). Gloss, ad G. Doug! see P. 364, St. 36, Pag. 246, St, 26.—P.
6	? here the wooden pin in the centra of the target.—F.
VOL. III.
H98
ADAM BELL, CLIME OP THE CLOUGHE,
Clowdeslee says the
butts are too wide.
then spake willmm of Oloudeslee, 584	“ by him that ffor me dyed,
I hold him not a good archer
that shooteth att butts soe wyde.”
“ wheratt ? ” said the Kinge,
588	“ I pray you tell to mee.”
“ att such a butt, S^r,” hee said, “ as men y se in my countrye.”
He sets
2 hazel sticks at 400 paces,
william went into the ffeild,
592	& his 2 brethren with him;
there they sett vp 2 has sell rodds 400 paces betweene.
“ I hold him an archer,” said Cloudeslee, 596	“ that yonder wand cleeueth in to we.”
“heere is none such,” said the King,
“for no man can soe doe.”
“I shall assay,” sayd Cloudeslee,
600	“ or that I ffurther goe.”
shoots, and	Cloudeslee with a bearing1 arrow
splits one	#	°
intwo-	, claue the wand in towe.
“thou art the best archer,” said our Kmy, 604	“ fforsooth that euer I see.”
“ & yett ffor jour loue,” said william,
“ I wall doe more masterye :
Then he	“ I haue a sonne is 7 yeere old,
proposes to
tie Ms son 608 hee is to me null deere; to a stake,
I will tye him to a stake—
all shall see him that bee here,—
1 ? meaning of bearing. Strutt says, “ I rather think the poet meant an arrow shot * compass,’ for the pricke or wand was a ‘mark of compass,’ that is, the arrow in its flight formed the segment of
a circle.” &'ports, p. 65, ed. Hone. As all arrows do that, this can he no explanation of either “ mark of compass ” (on which see my note on “ pricks ” in The Babees Book, tyc.) or “ bearing.”—F^,AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
99
“ & lay an apple ypon his head,
612	& goe sixe score paces him ffroe,
& I my selfe with a broad arrrowe shall cleaue the apple in to we.”
* now hast thee,” said the Ennge ;
616	“ by him that dyed on a tree,
but if thou dost not as thou has sayd, hanged shalt thou bee !
“ & thou touch his head or gowne 620 in sight that men may see,
by all the Samts that bee in heauen,
I shall you hang all 3: ! ”
“ that I haue promised,” said william,
624	“ that I will neuer fforsake : ”
& there euen before the Kmg, in thé earth he droue a stake,
& bound thereto his eldest sonne,
628	& bade him stand still thereatt,
& turned the childes ffaee him ffroe because hee should not start.
an apple ypon his head he sett,
632	& then his bow he bent ;
sixe score paces they were meaten,1 & thither Cloudeslee went,
there he drew out a ffaire broad arrow,— 636 his bowe 2 was great and long,— he sett that arrowe in his bowe that was both stiffe & stronge ;
and split an apple on his head at 120 paces.
The King agrees ;
but if Clowdeslee iails, he’s to, be hanged,
and Adam and Clim too.
Clowdeslee ties his boy to a stake,
puts an apple on his head,
sets an arrow in his bow,
1 meted, i.e. measured.—P,
2 There is a tag at the end like s.—F, h 2100
ADAM BELL, CLIME OE THE CLOUGrHE,
lie prayed the people that were tliere 640 That they wold still stand,1	[page 398]
“ ffor hee that shooteth ffor such a wager had need of a steedye hand.”
much people prayed for Clondeslee,
644 that his liffe saned might bee ;
& when hee made him readye to shoote, there was many a weepinge eye.
and cleaves the apple in two.
The King
thus Clondeslye claue the aple in 2,
648 as many a man might see :
“ now god fforffbidd,2 ” then said the Kmy, “ that thou sholdest shoote att mee !
gives him 8d. a day, and makes him his bowbearer.
“ I gane 3 thee 8 pence a day, 652	& my bow shalt thow beare,
& oner all the north cnntrye I make thee Cheeffe ryder.”
The Queen gives him 13d. a day,
“ & lie gine thee 13.d a day,” said the Qneene, 656	“ by god and by my ffay !
come ffeich thy payment when thon wilt, no man shall say thee nay.
makes him £ gentleman,
“ william, I make thee a gentleman,
660 of Cloathinge and of ifee ;
& thy 2 bretheren, yeomen of my chamber, for they are lonely 4 to see.
puts his son	“ jour sonne, ffor hee is tendar of age,
cellar,Wme 664 of my winesellar he shalbe ;
& when hee comes to mans estate, better preferred shall hee bee.
1	The same injunction is often heard	8 give.—P.
at firing-points now.—P.	4 so semely.—Bel.
2	Over Grods forbode.—Bel.AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
101
“ & willmm, bring me your wiffe,” said the Queene,
“ I long her sore to see ; shee shall bee my cheefe gentlewoman 1 to gonerne my nnrserye.”
the yeomen thanked them full curteonslye,
& sayd, “ to some Bishopp wee will wend ; of all the sinns that wee hane done, to be assoyled2 att his hand.”
soe forth be gone these good yeomen as ffast as they can hye,
& after came & lined w^th the 'King,
& dyed good yeomen all 3.
Thns endeth the lifFe of these good yeomen, god send them eternall blisse!
& all that -with a hand-bow shooteth,
that of heanen they may nener misse ! ffinis.
MS. gentlewonnan.—!F.	2 i. e. absolved, Assoile,
liberare. Lye.—P,
and promises to set his wife
over her nursery.
The three go to a Bishop
to be shriven,
and then live
and die well.
God send them and all bowmen bliss!
absolvere,102
lounge t CloubiSkt:
As the Cyclic poets adopted the lesser Homeric heroes as the centres of new epics, as the Eomancists in process of time celebrated other members of the Bound Table besides its great founder, as the ballad-writers sung of Much and Scarlett as well as of Eobin Hood, so here one who appears as a minor character in the great poem of “Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudeslee,” has a poem devoted to his special honour.
The piece was printed in 1605 by James Eoberts, along with his reprint of Copland’s edition of the greater poem of which this is a parasite. With this the Folio copy has been collated.
Listen, my
Northern
lads,
to the brave deeds
LlSTE : northeren Ladds, to blyther things1 then yett were brought to light, performed by our Countrymen 4 in many 2 a ffray and flight,
of Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough, and william of Clowdeslee,3 who were in flavor w^th the Kinge 8 ffor all their miserye.
of young William Clowdeslee,
who loved a bonny lass.
younge william of the wine-sellar,4 when yeoman hee was made, gan ffollowe then his Fathers stepps,
12 hee loued a bonny mayde.
“ gods crosse ! ” q^oth willmm, “ if I misse, & may not of her speede, lie make 1000 northerne 5 hartes6 16 ffor verry woe to bleede.
1	List Northerne Laddes to blither things.—R.
2	mickle.—R.
3	Cloudisly.—R.
4	See the last poem, 1.664, p. 100.—F.
5	Only half of the second n in the MS. -F.
6	a thousand Northen hearts.—R.YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
103
gone is liee 1 a wooinge now, onr Ladye will 2 liim guide; to merry mansfeild, will,3 I trow,
20 a time heewill abyde.
“ Soone dop 4 tbe dore, ffaire Sislye bright,5 I come with all tbe bast;
I am come a wooinge to 6 tbee for loue,
24 beere am I come att Last.”
He goes courting
to Mansfield,
and tells fait Sisely to open the door.
“ I know you not,” q^oth Sisely 7 tbo,	Sisely says
“ from whence that yee be come 8 ;
my loue you may not baue, I trow,	she can’t
J	J	.	.	love him,
28 I yow by this ffaire 9 sonne.10
u ffor why, my loue is ffixt so sure	as her love
J 7 J	is fixed on
ypon another wight;	another,
I sweare by sweet Ann, lie neuer
32 abuse him out of sight!
“ this night I hope to see my loue in all his pryde and glee;
If there were thousands, none but him 36 my hart wold ioye to see.”
whom she hopes to see to-night.
[page 399]
“ gods cursse yppon [him,] 11 ” younge willmm sayd, Young l ‘1 before me that hath sped !	t curses him,
a ffoule ill on the carryon nursse 40 that first did binde his head! ”
gan willmm tho for to prepare a medeine ffor the chaffe 12 ;
16 his liffe,” quoth, hee, “ ffull hard may ffare ;	and resolves
’ ^	9	J	7	to kill her
44 hees best to keepe alaffe.”	iover.
1 he is.—R.	2 well.—E.
3	where.—E.
4	dope, i.e. do open.—P.
5	Some dop the dore faire Cicelie
bright.—E.
6 to omitted.—E.	7 Cicelie.—E.
8 MS. become.—F. bée come.—E.
9	ffaure with a dot oyer the u in the MS.—F.
10 snn.—P.	11 him.—E.
12 ? for chuffe, a term of reproach. Halliwell. SeeLorden,l. 71.—F. medicine for that chaffe.—E.104
YOUNdE CLOUDESLEE.
He draws his sword,
and by way of trying it,
cuts in two an oak
66 inches round,
wishing it was his rival.
He longs for his father,
Adam,
and Clim,
as they’d fight 1000 men.
He calls on Sisely’s lover to come on,
he drew then out his bright browne sword, which was soe bright and keene ; a stonter man & hardyer 48 neere handled sword, I weene.
“ browne tempered Sword & worthye 1 blade, ynto thy master showe, if thon 2 to tryall thoh be put,
52 how thon canst3 byde a bio we.”
yonnge Willmm to an oke gan hye which was in eompasse round well 56 4 inches nye,
& field itt~fco the ground.
“ soe mote he fiare,” quohh willmm tho,
“ that fior her loue hath Layde which I haue loued, & neere did know 60 him sutor till that mayde.
“ & now, deere fiather stout & strongo, william of Cloudeslee, how happy were thy troubled sonne 64 if here I might 5 thee see,
“ & thy 2 6 brethren Adam Bell & Clim of the Cloughe ; against a 1000 men & more 68 wee 4 wold bee enoughe.
“ growne itt is fiull 4 a clocke,
& night will come beliue ;
Come on, thou Lorden, sisleys 7 loue !
72 this night I must8 thee shriue.
1	strong, and -worthy.—R.
2	that.—P. now.—R.
3	canst thou.—R.
4	Read " six and fifty.”—E. six and
fifty.—R.
5 mot.—R.	6 too.-
7	Lurden Cisleis.—R.
8	must I.—R.YOUNGrE CLOUDESLEE.
105
“ prepare thee strong, thou, ffowle black calfe 1 !
what ere thou, be, I weene He giu.e thy coxcombe sayke 2 a girde 3 76 in mansfeiild as was neuer 4 seene.”
willmm a young ffawne had slaine	and takes
in 5 sherwood merry fforrest; a ffairer ffawne ffor mans meate 6 * 80 in sherwood was nener drest.
hee hyed then till a northeren Lasse 7	to an old
woman
not halfe a mile him ffroe,8 he said, “ dop the dore,9 thon good ould nnrsse,
84 that in to thee I goe;
“ I ffaint wrth being in the woods 10;
loe, heere I hane a kidd -which I hane slaine ffor thee & mee 11;
88 come, dresse itt then, I bidd ;	to cook for
him.
“ ffeitch bread and other lolly ffare, whereof thou hast some store ; a blyther guest this 100 yeere 92 came neuer heere before.”
the good old naunt12 gan hye apace	The old
to lett young Willmm in;	lets him in,
“ a happy nursse,” q^oth willmm then,
96	“ as can be lightlye
1	fow black Canfe.—R.
2	In what district is saylce used for
such ? In Somersetshire, jitch is the
word. Halliwell, p. xxvii., xxviii. In
Lancashire, sich (H. xxiii.), but at Bury
sitch (ib.); and in Gloucestershire zitch
(H. xviii.)
8 a gird.-—R.
4	Mansfield as neuer was.—R.
5 MS. im.—P.	6 ymeat.—R.
7	North erne lasse.—R.
8	he fro.—R.
9 dop dorè.—R.	10 wood.—R.
11	slo for thée and I.—R.
12	Nant.—R.106
YOITNGE OLOUDESLEE.
and he promises her a reward
“ wend till that house hard by,” quoth hee, “ thats made of lime and stone, where is a Lasse, ffaire Cis,” hey1 said,2 100 “I loue her as my owne.
if she’ll fetch Sisely to him.
“ If thou canst ffeitch her vnto me that wee may merry bee,
I make a vowe, in the fforrest 104 of deere thou shalt haue ffee.”
She undertakes to bring Sisely,
“rest then, ffaire S¿r,” the woman said, “ I sweare by good SI lohn I will bring to you that same maid 108 ffull quickly e and anon.”
“ meane [time],3 ” q^oth Willmm, “ lie be Cooke, to see the ffawne well drest4: ” a stouter Cooke did neuer come 112 within the ffaire fforrest.
and hies off to her,
thicke 5 blyth old lasse had witt enoughe 6 ffor to declare his mind; soe ffast shee hyed, & neere did stay,
116 but left william behinde,
while William cooks the fawn.
where wilham like a nimble cooke is dressing of the ffare,
& ffor this damsell doth hee looke, 120 “I wold that shee weer heere ! ”
[page 400]
1	[insert] lie.—P. The MS. is Cishev, for Cis he, or, more probably, Cisley.—F,
2	Cisse hee said.—E.
3	meane time.—P, meane time.—E.
4	I drest.—E. .
5	? the district of thicke for that. In
Dorsetshire thik is used. See Halli-
well’s Gloss, p. xvi., and Barnes’s Glossary. Thickee, this, Devon, and thicca cloud, p. xv. Halliwell. Thick, the one that, that which, Somersetshire. Thee’s know thick us da meanne, tha da call’m wold Boss (ib. p. xxvii. col. 1).—P.
6	enow.—E.YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
107
“god speed,, blyth Cisley 1 ! ” cjaoth that old Lasse. The old “ god dild 2 yee,” q^oth Cisley, “ againe ;	dame
bow doe yee, nannt lone 3 ? ” shee said,
124	“ tell me itt, I am ffaine.”	tells Siseiy
tbe good old woman4 said “weele sbee was,	she must
°	7	come and
& comen an arrand to 5 yon ; for yon mnst to my cottage gone 128 ffnll qnickley,6 I tell yon trne,
“ where wee ffnll merry meane to bee all with my elder Ladd.” wben Cisley bard of itt, trnlye 132 sbee was exceeding gladd.
“ gods cnrsse light on me,” qwoth Cisley tbo,
“ if with yon that7 I doe not bye!
I nener ioyed more, fforsoothe,
136 , then in jour Companye.”
make merry in her cottage.
Siseiy gladly agrees to go,
happy tbe good wiffe tbongbt her selfe that of her pnrpose sbee bad sped,8 & borne with Sisley sbee is came,9 140 soe lightlye they did tread10 ;
& coming in, here willmm soone bad made readye bis ffare ; tbe good old wiffe did wonder mncb 144 soe soone as sbee came there.
Cisley to willmm now is gone,11 god send her Mickle glee, yett was sbee in a maze, god wott,
148 wben sbee saw itt was bee.
and into the cottage they walk. ,
William has his venison ready,
and Siseiy with him.
1	Cisse.—E.
2	yield it.—F. requite, speed: “Well, God dild you! ” says Ophelia. Hamlet, act iv; sc. 5.—Dyce.
3	done you Nant lone.—E.
4	lone.—E.
fi till.—E.	6 quick.—E.
7	that omitted.—E.
8	that her purpose he had of sped.—E. ® she doth come.—E.
10	did they read.—E.
11	come.—E.108
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
But she says she’d never have come if she’d known he was there.
“had I beene ware, good Sir,” sbee said, “ of that itb had beene you,
I wold haue stayd att home in sooth,
152 I tell you verry true.”
William
“ faire Cisley,” said then 1 willmm Kind, “ misdeeme thee not of mee-;
I sent not ffor thee to that 2 end 156 to doe the iniurye.
prays her to stop and eat
his kid ;
“ sitt downe that wee may talke awhile, & eate all of the best, the hattest kidd that euer was slaine 160 in merry Sherwood fforrest.3 ”
and his loving words win her heart.
Meantime
Sisely’s
lover,
his louinge 4 words wan Oisley then with, him to keepe 5 a while; but in the meane time Cisleys loue 164 of her was tho beguile.
a stout & sturdy man hee was of qualitye & kind,
a noble-	& knowen 6 through all the north cuntrye
minded	.
man,	168 to beare a noble mmde.
“but,” qwoth7 wilKam, “ doe I care ?
if that hee meane to weare, first lett8 him winne,9 else neuer shall 172 he haue the mayd, I sweare.”
comes to her cottage ;
but she is fled.
hull softlye is her loue[r] 10 come, and knocked att the dore : but tho11 he mist Cisleys companye,12 176 wher-att hee stampt and 13 swore.
1	then said.—B.
2	to the.—B.
8 Sir-wood Forrest.—B.
4 Only half the n in the MS.—F. 6 to keepe with him.—B.
6	knowne.—-B.
7	But what quoth.—B.
8	There appears to he some letter between the e and t in the MS.—F. let. —B.
9	wime in the MS.—F.
10	louer.—B.	11 i.e. then.—P.
12	roome.—B.
13	Only half the n in the MS.—F.YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
109
“a mischeeffe on his heart/’ q^oth hee, u that hath allured this 1 mayd to bee w^’th him in company ! ”
180 he cared not what hee sayd,
hee was soe 2 w^th anger moued, he sware a well great othe,
“ deere shold hee pay if I him knew,
184 fforsooth & by my trothe ! ”
gone hee is to ffind her ont, not knowing where shee is ; still wandering in the weary wood 188 his true lone he doth misse.
willmm purchased 3 hath the game which hee doth meane to hold,
“ come, rescew her and if you can,
192 and dare to be soe bold ! ”
Att lenght when hee had wandred long [Page 4013 about the fforrest side,4 a Candle light a ffurlong of 5 196	hull quickley hee espyed.
then to the house hee hyed him hast, where quicklye hee gan heare the voice of his owne true loue 6 200	a makinge bonny cheere.
then gan he say to Cisley tho,
“ 0 Cisley, come away !
I haue beene wandring thee to fhnd 204	since shutting in of day.”
He curses lier beguiler,
and swears he shall pay for her if he finds him.
But William means to keep her.
At last the lover
hears
Sisely’s
voice.
He calls her to come to him.
1	the.—E. ■
2	yso.—E.
3	purchast.—E.
4 wide.—E.
6 off.—E.
6 owne deere true loue.—E.110
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
william	“ who calls ffaire Cisley 1 P ” quoth willmm tho,2
dares do this.	“ what carle dares be soe bold,
once to adnentnre to her to speake 208 who [I] hane in my hold 3 ? ”
The lover threatens him.
“ List thee, ffaire Srr,” quoth Cisleys lone, “ lett qnickelye her ffrom yon part: ffor all yo-ar Lordlye words, Tie sweare 4 212	lie hane her, or lie make yon 5 smart!”
William says he’ll
yonng Willmm to his bright browne sword gan qnickelye then to take :
“ because thon soe doest challenge me,
216 He make thy kingdome qnake.
fight for his love.
“ betake thee to thy weapon stronge, ffaire time I giue to thee;
& ffor my lone as well as thine 220 a combatt flight will I.”
“ nener lett snnn,” quoth Cisleys lone, “ shine more ypon my head,
If I doe fflye, by heanen abone,
224 wert thon a gyant bredd ! ”
He takes his sword,
and the fight begins.
It lasts two hours,
to Bilbo blade got willmm tho that was both stifle and stronge6: a stont battell then they Sought,
228 weer neere 2 7 honres longe;
where many a greinons wound was ginen 8 to eche on either part, till both the champyons then were drone almost quite out of hart.
1	Cisse.—R.
2	then.—R.
3	whom I hane now in hold.—R.
4	I sweare.—R.
5	or make you.—R.
6	and buckler stiffe.—R.
7	well nie two.—R.
8	giue.—R.YOUNGrE CLOUDESLEE.
Ill
pittyous moane ffaire Cisley made, that all the fforrest ronge ; the greiuous shrikes made such a noyse, 236 shee had soe shrill a tonnge.
att last came in the keepers 3 w^th bowes and arrowes keene, where they lett flye among these 2,
240* a 100?1 as I weene.
willmm strong & stont2 in hart, when he had them espyed, sett on conrage ffor his part,
244 among the thickest hee hyed.
the cheefe ranger of the woods att ffirst did william smite, where att one blow he smote his head 248 ffrom of his shoulders quite,
& being in soe ffuryous teene, about him then hee Laid, he slew immedyatlye the wight 252 was sutor to the mayde.
great moane was then 3 made ;
the like was neuer hard, wM;h made the people all around 256 to crye, they were soe heard.
<c arme, arme ! ” the cuntrye cryed,
“ for gods loue quicklye hye ! ” neuer was such a slaughter seene 260 in all the north countrye.
1 an hundred.—E.	2 stout and strong.—E,
Sisely
moaning
and
shrieking all the while.
Then three keepers come to stop them,
but 'William
cuts off the chief-ranger’s head,
and then kills Sisely’s lover.
The people make great moan,
and raise tli e country.
y then.—E.112
YOUNGrE cloudeslee.
William kills the other two keepers.
willmm still, tko 1 wounded sore, continued still his 2 flight till he had slaine them all 4 264 'that yerry winters3 night.
all the contrye then was raysed, the traitor flor to take that flor the loue of Cisley fiaire 268 had all the slaughter make.
and then hies
to a cave with Sisely.
to the woods hyed william tho,—■ itt was the best4 of all his play,— where in a caue with Cisley flaire 272 hee liued many a day.
Proclamation is made to take William.
proclamation then was sent [page 402] the cuntrye all arounde,
4 the Lord of Mansfeild shold hee bee 276 that fflrst the tray tor flbunde.’
to 5 the court these tydings came, where all men doth 6 bewayle the young & lustye Willmm 280 which soe had made them quaile.
His father, Adam, and Clim,
hyed vp william of Cloudeslee 7 & lustye Adam Bell,
& flamous Clim of the Cloughe, 284 which 3 did them 8 excell :
to the King they hyed them flast, flull quicklye & anon,
“ mercye, I pray,” quoth old willmm,
44 flor william my sonne! ”
1 Will still though.—R.	6 did.—R.
. 2 in his.—R.	3 winter.—R.	7 Hied vp then William, Cloudesley.
4 ttvas best.—R. 5 Till.—R. —R.	8 then did.—R.
go to the King,
and ask mercy for
William’s 288 son.YOUEGE CLOUDESLEE.
113
“ net mercye, traitors ! ” quoth tlie King, “ you shall be banged all 4 ! 1 vnder my nose this plott yee haue 2 laid, 292 to bring to passe before.”
The King says he’ll hang all four of them.
“ Insooth,” bespake then Adam Bell,	Adam then
says
“ ill signe your grace hath seene of any such comwotyon 296 since -mth you wee haue beene.
“ If then wee can no mercye haue, but leese both liffe and goods, of yo^r good grace wee take our leaue,	they’ll take
„	tothewoods.
300	& hye ys to the woods.
“ arme, arme,” then qaoth the King,
“ my merry men euer-eche one,3 hull hast againe these rebells nowe 4 304 [that] 6 ynto the woods are gone ! ”
The King orders his men to arm and pursue the rebels.
“ 0, woe is ys ! what shall wee doe,	The men
7	7	don’t like the
or which way shall wee worke,	3°b*
to hunt them fforth out of the woods,
308 soe traiterouslye there that lurke ?
“list you,” quoth, a counsellor srraue,	a counsellor
\	? ^	J	advises that
a wise man he seemed,	the rebels be
pardoned.
“ the craned the King his pardon ffree 312 Ynto them to haue deemed.”
“ gods fforbott6 ! ” quoth the King,
“ I neuer itt will doe ! for they shall hang, eche mothers sonne, 316 I tell you Yerry true ! 7 ”
The King swears he’ll hang them,
1	hang’d shall yee he all foure.—E.
2	haue you.—E.
3	euery chone.—E.
4 now.—E.	5 that omitted.—E.
6 forebode, Prceceptum. Chauc. Groddes
forebode to breke, clei prcBeeptum molare. Lye.—P. See vol. i. p. 18, note b “ prick him godsforbod.” Heywood’s Epi-grammes, 236.—F. forbod.—E.
7 faire sir I tell you true.—E.
Y0L. III.
I114
YOTJNGE CLOUDESLEE.
and sends 50,000 men after them,
50000 men were charged after them ffor to take ; some of them sett in sundrye townes, 320 in companies 1 did waite ;
some of	to the woods gan some to goe,
whom go to
the woods.	in hope to ffind them out;
& them perforce they thanght to take, 324 if that they might ffind them out.
to they woods still they 2 came, dispatched still they were, w/zich made ffull many a trembling hart3 328	& many a man in ffieare.
But Adam and Clim go on killing the King’s deer.
still the outlawes Adam Bell & Clim of the Clonghe made lolly cheere with venison, 332 stronge drinke & wine enonghe.
Then the
King
says,
“ they are fine fellows.
“ Crist mee blesse ! ” then said our Kmg, “ such men were nener knowne ; they are they 4 stoutest harted men 336 that manhood euer shone 5 !
Make out
their
pardon,
“ come, my secretary good,
& cause 6 to be declared a generall pardon to them all, 340 -which, neuer shalbe discared.
and give	“ liuings plenty they shall haue 7
store g°°d	of gold & eke of ffee,
come and	If they did 8 as they did before,
me.”	344 come hue m court with mee.
1	compamyes in the MS.—E.
2	still as they.—R.
3	heart.—R.
4	the.—R.
6 showne.—R.
6	MS. caused.—E. cause.—P.
7	Liuing plenty shall they haue.—R.
8	they will do.—P. they will.—R.YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
115
soddenlye went fforth the newes declared by trumpetts sound, wherof these 3 were well advised 348 in cane as they were in ground.
“ but list you, Sirs,” quoth willmm younge,
“ I dare not trust the Kinge ;	[page 403]
itt is some ffeitch is in his head,
352 wherby to bring vs in.
“ nay, stay wee heere, or ffirst lett mee a messenger bee sent vnto the Court, where I may know 356	his maiestyes entent.”
this pleased Adam Bell,
“ soe wee may liue in peace, wee are att his most hye commando,
360	& neuer will we cease ;
u but if that still wee shall be vrged,
& called by traitors 1 name,
& threated hanging for euery thing,
364	his hignesse is too blame.
“ neare 2 had his grace subiects more true 3 & sturdyer then wee, which are att his hignesse will,
368 god send him well to bee ! ”
soe to the court is young willmm gone to parley w^th the Kinge, where 4 all men to the Kings presence 372 did striue for to him bringe.5
The three hear of this,
but young William doubts the King,
and asks that he may go to court and see him.
Adam
agrees,
saying that the King never had better subjects than
themselves.
Young William goes to the King,
1	traitrous.—E.
2	ne’er.—P.
3	more subjects true.—E.
4	Which—E.
5	him for to bring.—E.116
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
kneels to him,
and soon wins him over.
The King asks him to stay the night at court,
and gives him his seal in token of pardon.
The Lords and Ladies welcome him,
and tell him to bring Sisely to court.
when hee before the YLmg was come, he kneeled downe ffull lowe ; he showed quicklye to the Kinge 376 what duty they did owe.
in snch delightffull order blythe, the TZmg was quicklye woon 1 to comfort them in their request,
380 as hee before had done.
44 ffeitch bread & drinke,” then said his grace,
44 & meate all of the best ;
& stay all night heere att the court,
384	& soundlye take thy rest.”
“ gramercy 2 to jour grace,” said will :
44 for pardon granted, I see.”
44 for signe thereof, heere take my seale,
388	& for more certaintye.”
44 gods cursse ypon me,” said willmm,
44 for my part if I meane Euer againe to stirr vp striffe !
392	itt neuer shalbe seene.”
the Nobles all to WilKam came, he were soe stout & trim,
& all the Ladyes for verry ioy 396	did come to welcome him.
44 ffaire Cisley now I haue to wiffe, in ffeild I haue her woone.3 ” u bring her, for gods loue,” said thé 4 all,
400	44 welcome shee shall bee soone.5 ”
womit.—R.	4 they.—R.
G-ramercies.—R.	5 full welcome shall she he.—R.
wonne.—R.YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
117
forth againe went willmm backe, to woode that hee did hye,
& to his ffather there hee shewed 404 the King his pardon ffree.
He goes back, and shows his father the King’s pardon.
“ health to his grace,” said Adam Bell, “ I begg itt on my knee.” the like said Clim of the Olonghe 408	& willmm of Cloudeslee.
to the court they all prepare as ffast as 1 they can hye, where gracyonslye they were receiued 412 wrbh mirth and merry glee.
Cisley ffaire is gone 2 alone	with Siseiy
.	on a good
vpon a gelding ffayre ;	gelding,
a properer 3 damsell nener came 416	in any conrtlye ayre.
“ welcome, Cisley ! ” sayd the Queene,
“ & Lady I thee make, to waite ypon my owne person 420 in all my cheefe estate.4 ”
soe quicklye was the 5 matter done	And so ail
the trouble
w^ch was soe hardlye doubted, •	is happily
settled,
that all contentions after that 424	from court were quicklye rooted.6
fauorable was the kinge,
for good 7 they did him ffind;
They neuer after ffought againe 8 [page 404]
428 to vex his royall minde.
The Queen welcomes her and makes her a Lady in Waiting.
Then all of them come to court,
1 euen as fast as.—R.	5 this.—-R.
2 wend.—R.	6 rowted.—R.
3 proprer.—R.	7 so good.—R.
4 chiefest state.—R.	8 The neuer after sought againe.—R.118
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
and ònr
never after troubled the King.
long time 1 they lined in court soe neere veto the Kinge, that neuer after attempted 2 was 432 offred ffor any thinge.
May God
prevent men rebelling
god aboue, giue all men grace, in qniett ffor to line,
& not rebelliouslye abroad 436 their princes ffor to greene !
in hope of
getting
pardon,
let not the hope of pardon mone a snbiect to attempt his soneraignes anger, or his lone, 440 ffrom him for to exempt ;
and make
all serve God and the King.
but that all men may readye bee wtth all their maine and might to seme thè lord, & Ione thè Kinge,
444 in honor day and night.
ffinis.
1 MS. tine.—F. Long time they.—E.	2 ? read “ attempt there was.”—Skeat.
was attempt.—E.
[This is headed throughout, The second part, of Adam Bell. The first part has no such heading ; but has this title, Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough, and William Cloudesle. Bond, 1605. 9 leaves. Eegister A, C 2. Part II., 7 leaves. Eegister A 2, B 4.
There are two copies in Bodley. 4° C. 39, Art, Seld. ; Malone, 299.—0. Parker.]
[ “ Come Wanton Wenches” printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 80-1, folloivs here in the MS. p. 404.]119
In olta i times! paste t1
\
What can one say on the moral of this song, better than “ read Mr. Tennyson’s Golden Year” ? “ The Old Time sure was best” is a cry that has been dinned into Englishmen’s ears for many a century; and though lately the loud-voiced satisfaction of the comfortable classes and their orators was inclined to substitute for the old cry “The present time sure is best,” yet now that a certainty of greater consideration in legislation for the poor and weak, the ignorant and needy, is at hand, now that the trustees of power are to be more quickly answerable to the subjects of their trust for the fulfilment of it, many would willingly in their cowardly qualms cry for old times of corruption again. When will men have faith and its cheer, and work onwards for England’s future, instead of moaning and raving, and trying to drag their country back?
Still, the present poem is no Niagara and After, but a kind of Young-England regret for the chivalry, the merry outlaw greenwood life, the songs and dances, bows and hunts of an earlier time, the pillars of pleasure seen without the intervening spaces of sadness at the end of the arcade of English life—to use Mr. Herbert Spencer’s figure—while the spaces near are painfully plain. Merry England is to the writer—a hunting man, witness lines 38 to 41—merry no longer; and the cause of the decay of all the olden pleasures is that put forward by so many of our early writers, Pride, and, in the writer’s time, miserliness in other things to maintain it. With Conscience (ii. 189, 1. 126,) he could say, “you must banish pride, and then all England were blest.”
1 An Old Song in Praise of Archery.—P. and the good old times,—P.120
IN OLDE TIMES PASTE.
This is a change from Eobert of Brunne’s time in 1303, when Envy—which I suppose to include social grumbling and discontent, then more than justifiable—was the Englishman’s special sin:
And Englys men namely Are Jmrghe kynde of herte hy.
A forbyseyn ys tolde bys,
Seyde on Erenshe men and on Englys ;
Frenche men synne yn lechery,
And Englys men yn enuye.
Hcmdlyng Synne, p. 131, 1. 4154-5.
Let us hope that the writer of the present piece had no more ground for his complaint than the authors of similar ones have now. The “ fine old English Gentle-man ” has never ceased from the land, though his gentle-ness has been shown in forms varying with the ages as they have passed on.
Of the poem itself we know no other copy.—F.
IN : old times past when merry men	[page 405]
did merry makers 1 make,2 no man did greater matters then then Lancelott of Dulake. good Eobin hood 3 was liui[n]ge then, which now is quite fforgott,
& soe was ffaire Mayd Marryan, a pretty wench, god wott.
willmm of Cloudeslee did dwell amongst the bnckes & does,
Clim of the Cloughe & Adam Bell killed venison w^th their bowes. throughe the wood these Iollye bowmen went, both oner hill & dale, & dale & dale, yp & downe, vpp & downe,
through many a parke & pale : #: #:
1	? MS. makers may be' altered to in the MS.—E.
matters.—E.	3 There is a tag to the d.—E.
2	The first two lines are written as one
In merry-old days lived
Lancelot du Lake, Robin Hood,
Mayd
Marryan,
8
William of Clowdeslee,
Clim of the Clough, and Adam Bell. j g
The jolly bowmen hunted,
16IN OLDE TIMES PASTE.
121
	The Maydens on the holydayes did countrey carrolls singe, & some did passe the time away	the maidens sang carols
		
20	with dancinge ffor the ringe.	and danced,
	yea 20 groates was mony then	20 groats would make
	wold make men make good eheere, & 20 nobles gentlemen	a feast,
24	might line on all the yeere.	
	William of Cloudeslee did dwell, &c.	
	Then were there playes att whitsontyde,1	
	& sommer games about;	and summer
	then ffreind with ffreind wold goe & ryde	games were played.
28	to driue the sommer out;	
	& after merry sommer time,	
	then winter time came in ;	Winter was
	then were as merry matters done	merry
32	when Christmas did begin.2	at Christmas too.
	William, &c.	
	Then did they chant itt merrilye	Then was it
	with hunting in the wood,	merry too in woods
	wherin they hound[s] mad such a crye	with cry of hounds
36	as did the hearers good ; the hunters with their hunting homes did cause the woods to ringe : to see them pricke amongst the thornes,	and hunteis’ horns.
40	itt weere pastime ffor a kinge.	
	William, &c.	
	Sir Lancelott dulake, a-dew !	But now!
	thou was a worthy Knight;	farewell Lancelot
	& eke maid Marryan sure & trew,	and Marian,
44	good Robin Hoods delight.	
1 See Strutt and "Brand on the Whit- When knightes most on horsebacke son-ales &c. Strutt quotes Sir JBevis:	ride, &c.—F.
In somer at Whitsontyde,	2 MS. begim.—F.122
IN OLDE TIMES PASTE.
Clowdeslee,
Clim and Adam.
The world changed.
Pleasure turned to spite.
willmm of Cloudeslee, ffarewell, wtth thy companyons old,
Clim of tlie Clough, & Adam Bell, 48 three bowemen braue & bold !1 for now tbe world is altered quite, as itt bad neuer beene ; for plesure now is turned to spite ; 52 tbe like was neuer seene.
Men are misers;
the rich don’t hunt,
men don’t shoot.
Sure, the old time was best.
May G-od send us good bowmen again!
More sparinge for a pennye nowe then then was for a pound ; ricb men, alas, they know not bow 56 to keepe ne bawke nor bound, all merriments are quite fforgott,
& bowes are laid aside ; all is to litle now, god wott,
60 to maintaine wordlye pryde. where I began, there will I end, tbe old time sure was best; ynless that misers quicklye mend,
64 old mirth may take bis rest.
pray wee then good bowmen may rise, as bath beene here to-ffore, to-ffore, to-ffore,
68 to maintaine, to Maintaine,
& make our mirth tbe more,
tbe more, tbe more.	ffinis.
1 Should “ William, &c.be repeated stanzas in reality one of sixteen lines, here, and the next four lines belong to	counting the repeats to-ffore, the more
the next stanza ? Or are four lines	with the lines preceding them ?—Skeat.
wanting after 1. 52, and the last two123
IBatteome Cell:1	[page 40G]
This song was printed by Percy in his Reliques, ii. 343, with Bishop Corbet’s “ 0 Noble Ffestus,” from the Folio, p. 447, and four other mad songs to make up half a dozen “ selected out of a much larger quantity.” Percy says: “ It is worth attention that the English have more songs and ballads on the subject of madness than any of their neighbours. Whether it is that we are more liable to this calamity than other nations, or ,whether our native gloominess hath peculiarly recommended subjects of this cast to our writers, the fact is incontestible, as any one may be satisfied, who will compare the printed collections of French, Italian Songs, &c. with those in our language.” Mr. Payne Collier considers that the madness was shammed, and that the cause of it was the desire of the idle and dissolute beggars—who swarmed over the country on the dissolution of the monasteries—to excite their hearers’ pity and get alms. They were called Bedlam Beggars, and are mentioned by Edgar in “King Lear”:
The country gives me proof and precedent Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Stick,in their numb’d and mortify’d bare arms Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And, with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayer,
Inforce their charity.
In Dekker’s Bellman of London, 1616, all the different species of beggars are enumerated. Amongst the rest are mentioned Tom of Bedlam's band of mad caps, otherwise called Poor Tom’s flock of wild geese . . and those wild geese, or hair brains, are called Abraham men. An Abraham man is afterwards described in this manner : “ Of all
1 That common old song of Mad-tom. Collated with a copy in a 12° collection of songs printed by Boreman, 1735.—P.124
DARKESOME CELL.
the mad rascals (that are of this wing), the Abraham man is the most fantastiek. The fellow (quoth this old Lady of the Lake unto me),, that sate half naked (at table to-day) from the girdle upward, is the best Abraham man that ever came to my house, and the notablest villain: he swears he hath been in Bedlam, and will talk frantickly of purpose: you see pins stuck in sundry places of his naked flesh, especially in his arms, which pain he gladly puts himself to (being indeed no torment at all, his skin is either so dead with some foul disease, or so hardened with weather, only to make you believe he is out of his wits) : he calls himself by the name of Poor Tom, and coming near anybody, cries out, Poor Tom is a cold. . . . (Mr. Payne Collier’s note to Dodsley’s Collection of Old Plays, ii. 4, quoted in Chappell’s Popular Music, i. 334-5.)
Mr. Chappell prints the tnne of the song, which is to be played majestically, but cannot settle who is the author of it: certainly not Purcell or Henry Lawes ; possibly Lawes’s master, John Cooper, called “ Cuperario ” after his visit to Italy. Mr. Chappell continues:
There is an equal uncertainty about the authorship of the words. In Walton’s Angler, 1653, Piscator says, “ I’ll promise you I’ll sing a song that was lately made at my request by Mr. William Basse, one that made the choice songs of The Hunter in his career, and Tom of Bedlam, and many others of note.” There are, however, so many Toms of Bedlam, that it is impossible to determine from this passage to which of them Isaak Walton refers.—F.
From hell mad Tom comes back to the world.
FfORTH : firom my sadd & darksome1 cell, flrom 2 the deepe abisse of hell, madd Tom is come into 3 the world againe 4 to see if hee can ease 4 his distempered braine.
He hears the Furies howl ;
fleare & dispayre pursue 5 my soule ! harke how the angry fluryes howle !
Pluto laughes, proserepine 6 is gladd 8 to see poore naked Tom of Bedlam madd.
1 dark and dismal—P.	5 Pears and cares oppress &c.—P.
2 Or from.—P.	There is a flourish like an s to the e of
3 to view.—P.	4 cure.—P.	pursue,—P.	6 & Proserp**.— P.DARKESOME CELL.
125
through woods 1 I wander night and day to seeke 2 my stragling sences ;
In an angrye mood I ffound out time 3 12 With his Pentarehye 4 of tenses.
when mee he spyes, away hee fflyes ;
time 5 will stay ffor no man ;
In yaine wHh eryes hee rends 6 the skyes, 16 pitty 7 is not common.
Cold & comfortlesse I lye.8 helpe,9 oh helpe ! or else I dye.
harke! I heere Appolloes teeme,
20 the Carman ’gins to whistle ;
Chast Dyana bends her browe,10 *u the bore begins to bristle.
he wanders about, seeking his
He lies comfortless.
24
28
32
Come, vulcan, w^th tooles & w-ath takells,12 & knocke of my troublesome shakells ! bid Charles make ready his waine to ffeitch my ffiue sences 13 againe.
Last night I heard the dogstar barke,
Mars mett venus in the darke;
Yulcan knocks off his
shackles 1
Limping yulcan heates14 an Iron barr,
& ffuryouslye runs 15 att the god of warr.
Mars w^th his weapons 16 layd about,
He hears the dogstar bark ;
but yulcans temples had17 they gout,	he gees
ffor his broad homes did hang soe in18 his light M^fightf
that hee cold not see to aime arright.19
the world. —P. find.—P.
I met old Time.—P. pentateuch.—P.
For time.—P.
I rend, qn.—P. I rent.—Bel. For pity.—P.
I be.—P.
Help, help &c.—P. bowe.—P.
11	And.—P.
12	tackle, qu.—P.
13	Cp. “Bless thy five wits.” King Lear, iii. 4.—Dyce. To bring me my senses &c. —P.
14	heat.—P. het.—Bel.
15 made.—P.	16 weapon.—P.
17	limping V: had got.—P.
18	his broad horns did so hang in.—P.
19	aim his blows aright.—P.126
DARKESOME CELL.
Mercurye, the nimble post of heauen,
36 stayd to see this quarrell.1
and	gorreld-bellyed Bacchus, gyant-like
Bacchus
burst with	bestryds a strong beere barrell:
drinking
beer.
to me he dranke, [I did him thanke,
40 but I cold gett noe Cyder ;
hee dranke] 2 whole butts till hee burst his gutts ; but mine were neere the wyder.
Poor Tom is very dry. G-ive him drink.
poore naked Tom is verry 3 drye ; 44 a litle drinke, ffor charitye !
He hears Action’s hounds.
hearke ! I heare Acteons hounds.4
the huntsmen woopp and hallo we ; Bingwood, Boyster,5 Bowman, Iowler, 48 all the chase doe ffollowe.
The man in the moon
wants a cup of sack.
the man in the moone drinkes Clarrett, eates pouthered 6 beeffe, turnipp & Carrett; 7 a cup of old Maligo 8 sacke 52 will ihre the bush att his backe.
ffinis.
1	Stood still . . . the q! —P.
2	The words included in these brackets are omitted in the printed copies.—P.
3	Pore tom is very.—P.
4	home.—Bel.
5	Bockwood, Jowler, Bowman.—P.
6	salted. See Babees Booh Index.—P.
7	but.—P.
8	of malaga.—P.27
iWarfee more ffoole :
More here is probably a corruption of Morio (a word connected with the Greek ficopis), “homo,” says Facciolati, “qui naturali stoliditate et stultitia risum excitat.” “ Quidam,” says Augustine in his 26th epistle, “tan to sunt fatuitatis ut non multum a pecoribus differant; quos moriones vulgo vocant.5’ With regard to its use here of the cap-and-belled fool of the sixteenth century, compare the following epigram of Martial (viiL 13):
Morio dictus erat; yiginti millibus emi;
Redde mihi nummos, Gargiliane; sapit.
which may be roughly rendered :
I bought Tom Fool for twenty thousand pence.
Return my money, dealer; he has sense.
The court of the Tudors, or the first Stuarts, in whose time probably the following piece was written, was seldom without its Fool. From Will Somers to Archie Armstrong the succession is continuous. Who was the individual whose acuteness is here celebrated, we cannot precisely state.
We have not seen any other copy of the piece.
To : passe the time there, as 1 I went, a history there I chanced 2 to reede; when as Salamon raigned Km	When
#	Solomon
4 he did many a worthie deede,	was King
whereas.—P.
2 MS. changed.—F.128
MARKE MORE FOOLE.
& many statutes liee caused to be made ;
& tbis was one 1 amongst the rest plaine,2 it was	“itt was ffelomy to any one that found ought was
felony not
to restore to	lost,
the owner
goods found. s & wold not restore itt to the owner againe.”
A merchant
lost his purse with 100J.- in it,
and offered 201. for its restoration.
Soe then there was a rich Merchant, as he rode to a markett towne, itt was his chance to lose his pursse;
12 he said there was in itt a 1001?. a proclamation he caused to be made,
‘4 whosoeuer cold find the same againe, shold giue itt him againe without all doubt, 16	& hee shold have ffor 201;i his paine.”
A poor man
finds the purse,
but doesn’t understand the gold.
Soe then there was a silly poore man	[page 407 ]
had 2 sheepes pells vpon his backe to sell,
& going to the Markett towne 20 hee ffound the pursse, & liked itt well; hee tooke itt yp into his hand,
& needs see what was in it hee wold; but the same he cold not vnderstand;
24 ffor why, there was nothing in it but gold.
The merchant
accuses him of finding the purse.
He says he has it, and will restore it for the 201.
The rich man hee pursued him soone,3 “thou horeson villaine,” q?£oth he then,
“ I thinke itt is thou that has found my pursse, 28	& wilt thou not giue itt me againe P ”
“ good Sir,” sayd hee, “ I ffound such a pursse;
the truth ffull soone itt shall be knowne ; you shall haue itt againe, its neuer the worse,
32 but pay me my safteye 4 that is mine owne.”
1 MS. ome.—F.	4 I don’t find this word elsewhere in
2 among them plain.—P.	the same sense.—F.
3	eftsoon.—P.MAREE MORE FOOLE.
129
“ Let me see whats in the pursse,” said the Merchant;
“found thou a 1001/ and no more P thou horeson yillaine ! thou hast paid thy-selfe;
36 for in my pursse was full sixe score, itts best my pursse to me thou restore,
or before the King thou shalt be brought.”
“I warrant,” quoth, hee, “when I come the 'King before,
40 heele not reward me againe w-tth nought.”
Then they Ledd him towards the Kinge,
& as they led him on the way,
& there mett him a gallant Knight,
44	& with him was his Ladye gay.
with. tugging & lugging this pore man, his lether sckins 1 began to cracke ; the gelding was wanton they Ladye rode on,
48	& threw her downe beside his backe.
Then to the earth shee gott a thawacke;
no hurt in the world the pore man did meane; to the ground hee cast the Ladye there ;
62 on a stubb shee dang out one of her eyen. the Knight wold needs vpon2 him .haue beene.
“ nay,” sayd the Merchant, “ I pray you, S^r, stay;
I haue a actyon against him alreadye ;
56 he shalbe3 brought to the King, & hangd this day.”
Then they Ledd him towards the King,
but the poreman liked not their Leading well;
& coming neere to the sea side,
60 he thought to be drowned or saue him selfe.
1 skins.—P.	3 There is a b followed
2	Cp. our “ I’ll be down upon you.” blotted out, after be.—F.
~ P.
VOL. ITT.	K
The merchant says
he had 120Z. in his purse,
and he’ll take the poor man before the King.
On their road to the King,
a knight and his lady meet them.
The poor man’s sheepskins crack,
the lady’s gelding throws her
on to a stub, and puts out one of her eyes.
The knight wants to punish the poor man.
He is afraid,
and to save
by a letter130
MARKE MORE EOOLE.
himself leaps into the sea, that is, on two fishermen,
and breaks one’s neck.
The other wants to be down on the poor man for this.
They go before the King.
The merchant says
he lost a purse of 120Z.
and the poor man won’t give it up except for 201.
The knight says the man
made his lady lose one of her eyes.
And the fisher says the
man broke his brother’s neck.
& as liee lope into tlie sea,
no liarme to no man lie did wott, bnt tliere liee light ypon 2 ffisher-men ;
64 wddi the leape he broke one of their neckes in a boate.
The other wold needs ypon him hane beene.
“ nay,” said the Merchant, “ I pray thee now stay; we hane 2 actyons against him alreadye ;
68 he shalbe carryed to the 'King & hangd this day.” then they Led him bonnd before the King, where he sate in a gallerye gay.
“my Leege,” said the Marchant, “ wee hane brought such a yillane
72 as came not before yon this many a day.
“ ffor itt was my chance to loose my pursse,
& in itt there was ffull sixe score 1;
& now the yillaine will not gine itt me againe 76 except that hee had 201,i more.”
“ I knt 2 I haye a worsse mache then that,” sayd the Knight,
“ for I know not what the yillaine did meane; he caused my gelding to cast my Ladye;
80 on a stnbb shee hath dang out one of her eyen.”
“ Bnt I haye the worst match of all,” sayd the ffisher, “ ffor I may sighe & say god wott: hee lope att mee & my brother ypon the seas ;
84 wTth the leape he hath broken my brothers neck in a bote.”
the King hee turned him round about, being well aduised of euery thinge:
Q^oth he, “ neuer since I can remember,
88 came 3 such matterrs since I was Kinge.3 ”
1	pounds six score.—P.
2	? MS. hut. Cut, say. Hall.—P.
before a king.—P.MARKE MORE EOOLE.
131
Then Marke More, ffoole, beinge by,
“how now, Brother Solomon ?” then q^oth hee,
“ gine yon will not gine indgment of these 3 matters, 92 I pray yon retnrne them 1 ore to mee.”
“ with all my hart,” qwnth Salomon to him,
“ take yon the indgment of them as yett; ffor nener came matters me before,
96 that ffainer of I wold be qnitt.”
“Well,” q^oth Marke, “wee hane these 3 men heere,
& enery one hath pnt vp a bill; bnt, pore man, come hither to me,
100 lets heare what tale thon canst tell for thy selfe.” “why, my Lord” q^oth hee, “as tonching this Merchant,
as he rode to a markett towne itt was his chance to loose his pnrsse;
104 he said there was in itt a 100?
“ A proclamatyon he cansed to be made,
6 whosoener cold find the same againe plaine, shold gine itt him, againe withont all donbt,
108	& hee shold hane 20“ ffor his paine.’
& itt was my chance to ffind that pnrsse,
& gladlye to him I wold itt restore ; bnt now hee wold reward mee with nothinge,
112 bnt Challengheth2 in his pnrsse 20?'more.”
“ Hast thon any wittnesse of that ? ” said my Lo rd Marke ;
“ I pray thee, fellow, tell me ronnd.”
“ yes, my Lo rd, heres his owne man 116 that carryed the Message ffrom towne to towne.”
Marke, the fool, asks Solomon to let him judge these causes.
Solomon
agrees
gladly.
[page 408]
So Marke calls on the poor man for his answers.
He says “ The merchant
lost his 100£. purse,
and offered
201. reward for it.
I found it,
offer it him,
and he asks me for 20J.
His own man is witness! ”
1 you turn them.—P.
2 The heth in the MS. appears crossed out.—F.132
MARKE MORE FOOLE.
The mer-	the man was called before them all,
chant’s man
says that’s	& said itt was a 100? plaine.
true.	#	.
& that bis master wold gine 20?
120 to any wold giue bim bis pnrsse againe.
“ Then,” said Marke,
“ the poor man shall keep this purse,
and you shall follow him till you find
another.”
“I bad fforgotten 20?,” said tbe Merchant,
“ gine me leane ffor my seife to say.”
“nay,” said Marke, “thou Chalengeth1 more then thine owne ;
124 tberfore with tbe pore fellowe tbe pnrsse shall stay.
. & this shall bee my indgment straight :
thon shalt ffollow eche day by the heeles playne till thon haue ffound such another pnrsse with him, 128	& then keepe itt thy seife, & neere gine itt him
againe.”
“ I’d sooner give him 20/. than do that,” says the merchant.
“ Pay the money then, and go.”
“ Marry, oner gods fforbott,” said the Merchant,
“ that euer soe badd shold be my share ! how shold I ffind a 100? of him 132 that hath not a 100 pence to loose 2 P rather lie gine him 20? more,
& with that hee hath, lett him stay.” 3 “ Marry, render ys downe the money,” said Marke, 136	“ soe may thon chance goe qnietlye away.”
“ As to the knight,” says the poor man,
“ he and the merchant made my skins rattle,
“ ffellow ! how hinderedst thon the Knight ?
thon must make him amends here, I meane; itts against Law & right;
140 his Ladye, shee hath lost one of her eyen.”
“ why, my Lord, as they ledd me towards the King, for ffeare lest I shold loose my trattle,4 these lether skins you see mee bringe,
144 with tugging and lugging began to rattle.”
1	Fr. chalanger, to claime, challenge, make title ynto. Cotgraye.—F."
2	spare.—P.
3	And what he hath let with him stay.
—P.
4	For trattle, Halliwell gives to prattle or talk idly: for trattlis, the dung of sheep, hares, &c,—F.MAEKE MOEE FOOLE.
133
148
152
1 * “ The gelding was wanton the Lady rode vpon,— no hurt in the world, my Lord, I did meane,— to the ground he cast that Ladye there,
& on a stub shee dang out one of her eyen.”
“ ffellow,” quoth. Marke, 44 hast2 thy wiffe 2 eyes ?
I pray thee,” qizoth hee, “tell me then.” .
“ yes, my Lord, a good honest pore woman, that for her liuinge takes great paine.”
frightened the lady’s horse,
and lie threw her on a stub.”
“ Has your wife two eyes ? ”
‘Yes.5’
156
160
“ Why then, this shalbe my iudgment straight, tho thou perhapps may thinke itt strange : thy wiffe with 2 eyes, his Ladye hath but one, as thou hast drest her, with him thoust change.” “ marry ouer gods fforbott,” then sayd the Knight, “ that euer soe badd shold be my shame ;
I had rather giue him a lOO1*
then to be trobled with his dunish 3 dame.”
“ Then the knight shall change wives.”
“ I’d sooner give him 100Z.” says the knight.
164
168
“ Marry ! tender vs downe the mony,” said Marke, “ soe may thou be gone within a while.” but the fhsher ffor feare he shold have beene called, he ran away a quarter of a mile.
“ I pray you call him againe,” quoth. Marke,
“ giffe hee bee within sight; for neuer came matter me before,
“ Pay down your money and go.”
The fisherman is alarmed, and runs off,
but euerye man shold haue his right.”
They called the ffisher backe againe :	but is called
“how now, fellow P why didst not stay ? ”	back’
“^my Lord,” qzioth hee, “ I haue a great way home, and makes
•	excuses
172	& ffaine I wold be gone my way.
1 (Marginal note by the writer of the	now is—P.]
MS). This verse shold come in att	2 hath.—P.
this * mark aboue [which is where it	3 ? dunny, deaf, stupid. Halliwell.—P.134
MARKE MORE EOOLE.
“ As to the fisherman,’* says the poor man,
“to save myself, I
leapt into the sea,
hut came on his brother, and broke his neck.”
“ Then,” says Marke, “ this fisherman shall put his boat in the same spot, and jump on you.”
“ but, ffellow, bow binderedst tbou this ffisher ?
I pray thee,” q^oth Marke, “to vs tell.”
“my Lon£, as I came neere tbe sea syde,
176 I thought either to be drowned or saue my seife.
“ And as I lope into tbe sea,— no barme to no maim I did wott,— there I light vpon this ffishers brother ;
180 with a leape I broke his necke in a boate.”
“ffisber,” quoth. Marke, “ knowest thou where the boate stood ?
thoust sett her againe in the seife same steade,
& thoust leape att him as he did att thy brother,
184	& soe thou may quitt thy brothers deeded ”
“ And break my neck, or be drowned,” says the fisherman:
“ I’d rather give him 20Z.”
“ Pay down the money, and go then.”
“ Marry, gods fforbott,” then sayd the ffisher [page 409] “ that euer soe badd shold be my lucke !
If I leape att him as he did att my brother,
188 1st either be drowned or breake my necke ; rather lie giue him 201*:
& I wold, my Lord, I had neere come hither.”
“ Marry, tender vs downe the money,” said Marke, 192	“& you shalbe packinge all 3 together.”
The poor man takes all the money, and says he doesn’t care how often he’s brought before the King.
The other three say they’ll never come again while Marke’s there.
The pore man he was well content,
& verry well pleased of euerye thinge ; he sayd he wold neere take great care 196 how oft hee came before the Kinge. these other 3 cold neuer agree,
. but euery one ffell out with other,
& sayd they wold neere come more to the King 200 while hee was in companye with marke his brother.
1 dead.—P. death.—F.135
Cfcmnas : of t potte*1
Thought men in early days made the ballads as well as the laws of the nation* they were more just to women in the one than the other. Against the Marquis lifting Grisilde from her father’s cottage to his own throne, they set the Lady’s love for her Squyer of Lowe Degree* and against King Cophetua, Lord Arundel’s fair heiress with her Thomas Potts. If “Lady Clara Yere de Vere” had been written centuries ago* we may be sure that some male predecessor of Elizabeth Barrett Browning would have answered it with u A Poet’s Wooing,” suited to the time. Indeed* we may go further, and say, that as minstrels sang more for knights* who held the purse, than ladies fair* the stooping of a high-born heiress to a fighting lord of lowly birth was a more frequent topic in old ballads and romances than the taking by a noble of a lowborn bride. Serving-man might be squire* squire be knight* and knight an earl: to any and all, the highest lady in the land was a possible prize* were a strong right hand and a stout heart the possession of him who dared to try for her. And in the present ballad the writer * has boldly faced the bathos, if any there were* in name as well as in fact, for he has married Lord Arundel’s daughter to Thomas Potts.
In the middle of the sixteenth century Hewe Eodes counsels his Wayting-Servant :
For your promocyon resort to such as ye may take avaimtage,
Among ge?2tylme% for rewardes, to gen tyl worn e?£ for marriage.
Se your eye be indyfferent, amonge women that be fayre,
And tell them storyes of loue, and so to you they wyll repayre;
Suche pastymes somtyme doth many men auaunce In way of maryage, and your good name it wyl enhaunce :
and no doubt in earlier days good-looking young serving-men
1 Shewing how he won Lord Arundel’s Yol. i. p. 189, 12° intitled The Lover's Laughter from Lord. Phoenix, being only Quarrel or Cupid’s Triumph.—P. a serving Man. In Pepys’ Merrim*.8,136
THOMAS OF POTTE.
had an eye to their mistresses’ hands and fortunes, ’besides being honestly, desperately in love with them. We have seen, in The Lord of Learne (i. 190-8), how the young shepherd-boy was taken by the Duke of France’s daughter into her service, and how she fell in love with him, and married him; we know how in William of Palerne (or William and the Werwolf) the Emperor’s daughter Melior loves, and must love, her gens et tres biax young serving-man, though he is only a cowherd’s foundling, and though she tries to school her heart,, jsaying:
what ? fy! schold i a fundeling • for bis fairenesse tak ? nay, my wille wol nou^t a-sent * to my wicked hert. wel kud kinges & kaysers • krauen me i-now;
I nel leie mi loue so low • now at Hs time; desparaged were i disgisili ‘ ijif i dede in bis wise ;
I wol breke out fram bat baret * & blame my hert.
and with the immense advantage that continual access to a young mistress’s presence gave a man when kettle and other drums had not been invented to bring suitors, and tournaments and feasts came rarely, we may well believe that Thomas Pottses did sometimes secure their ladies, notwithstanding 6‘the great gulf fixed between churl and noble ” on which Mr. Hales has remarked in Glasgerion, vol. i. p. 248. We can hardly suppose the subject a popular one among highborn dames; and without the fact’s actual happening, I doubt whether it would have been chosen for a ballad theme. Grant that it did occasionally happen, and then the balladist would not refuse to sing the constancy of a love that glorified all on whom it shone—as well a Thomas Potts as a banished Earl. Anything less like a hero coming to fight for his love it would be difficult to conceive than the canny Potts as he rode from his Scotch home on his old dock-tailed white horse. This is how he chose his charger, when offered his master’s best:
theres an old borsse,—for him you doe giffe I be out of my saddle cast,
not care,—	they beene soe wild theyle neuer be
this day wold sett my Lady ffree, that is a white, with a cutt tayle,
lett me haue age sober & wise ;
itt is â -part of wisdome, you know
tane againe.
ffiill 16 yeeres of age is hee. . .
0 Master, those [better young] horsses
heene wild and wicked,
if I be out of my sadle cast,
heele either stand still or turne againe.
itt plaine ;
& litle they can skill of the old train e ;137
THOMAS OF POTTE.
Still, though Potts is unhorsed and wounded, and has to rely on his white steed’s wisdom, Potts has pluck, and gives Lord Phenix so much of fighting that he wants no more. And his Lordship, being convinced that Lady Eozamond prefers Potts to him, generously promises her that she shall have her Potts, and if her father will not endow them, he will:
lie send ffor thy father, the Lon? of Arrundale,
& marryed together I will you see. giffe hee will [not] maintaine you well,
both gold and Land you shall haue from me.
Need we say that the Lady, his true-love, turns Thomas a Pott’s name into “ The Lord of Arrundale,” and exhorts all her maids
& Ladyes of England, faire & ffree, looke you neuer change yotcr old loue for no new, nor neuer change for no pouertye.—E.
ALL: you Lords of SGothland ffaire,
& ladyes alsoe bright of blee; there is a ladye amongst them all,
4 of her report you shall heare of me.
of her bewtye shee is soe bright,
& of her colour soe bright of blee; shee is daughter to the Lord Arrndell,
8 his heyre apparrant ffor to bee.
“ He see that bryde,”.Lon? Phenix sayes,
“ that is a Ladye of hye degree,
& iff I like her countenance well,
12 the heyre of all my Land sheest bee.”
to that Ladye ffayre Lord Phenix came,
& to that Like-some dame said hee,
“ now god thee saue, my Ladye ffaire l 16 the heyre of all my Land thost bee.”
“Leaue of jour suite,” the Ladye sayd,
“ you are a Lord of honor ffree, you may gett Ladyes enowe att home,
20	& I haue a loue in mine owne countrye.
Lords and Ladies of Scotland,
I’ll tell you of a fair Lady,
Lord
Arundel’s
heir.
Lord Phenix
offers to marry her,
She tells him that
she has a lover,138
THOMAS OF POTTE.
a serving-man,
Thomas a Pott.
Lord Phénix says he
has 401. to Thomas’s 3?.
The Lady says she’ll
stick to Thomas.
Lord Phénix
tells her father,
and he says she shan’t have his land
unless she marries Lord Phenix.
So she is forced to be his bride.
But she means . to beguile him.
“ I haue a louer true of mine 1 owne, a servinge man of a small degree ;
lie is the ffirst loue that euer I had,
24	& the last that hee shalbee :
Thomas a Pott, itt is his name.”
“ giue Thomas a Pott then he his name,
I wott I ken him soe readilye;
28 I can spend 40l} by weeke,
& hee cannott spend pounds 3.”
“ god giue you good of jout gold,” said the Ladye,
“ and alsoe, B^r, of jout ffee !
32 hee was the ffirst loue that euer I had,
& the Last, Sir, shall hee bee.”
with that Lord Phenix was sore amoued; ynto her ffather then went hee ;
36 hee told her ffather how itt was proued, how that his daughters mind was sett.
“ thou art my daughter,” the Erie of Arrndell said, “ the heyre of all my Land to bee ;
40 thoust be bryde to the Lord Phenix,
daughter, giue thoule be heyre to mee.”
for lacke of her loue this Ladye must Lose, her foolish wooing lay all aside ;
44 the day is appoynted,2 & ffreinds are agreede, shee is fforcte to be the Lord Phenix bryde.
with. that the Lady began to muse—
a greeued woman, god wott, was shee—
48 how shee might Lo rd Phenix beguile,
& scape ynmarryed ffrom him that day.
MS. nine.—F.	2 There is a mark like an unclotted i
in the MS. before the y.—F.THOMAS OF POTTE.
139
shee called to her her litle ffoote page ; to Iacke her boy, soe tenderlye 52 sayes, “ come thou hither, thou litle ffoote page, for indeed I dare trust none but thee.
“ to Strawberry castle, boy, thou must goe, to Thomas Pott there as hee can bee,
56	& giue him here this Letter ffaire,
& on guilford greene bidd him meete me.
“ looke thou marke his contenance well,
& his colour tell to mee;
60	& hye thee ffast, and come againe,
& 40 shillings I will giue thee.
“ for if he blush in his fface, then in his hart heese 1 sorry bee.
64 Then lett my ffather say what hee will, [page 4io] for false to Potts He neuer bee.
“ & giue hee smile then w^th his mouth, then in his heart heele merry be ;
68 then may hee gett him a loue where-euer he can, for small of his companye my part shalbe.”
then one while that the boy hee went, another while, god wott, rann hee ;
72	& when hee came to strawberry castle,
there Thomas Potts hee see;
then he gaue him this letter ffaire.
& when he began then for to reade,
76 they 2 boy had told him by word of mouth
‘ his loue must be the Lord Phenix bryde.’
1 heese, i. e. he will be, or must be.—P.	2 the.—P.
She tells her page, Jack,
to take a letter to Thomas,
and if he blushes, then he’ll be sorry,
and she’ll be true to him ;
if he smiles,
then she’ll give him up.
The boy
goes to Thomas,
gives him the letter,
and tells him his love must marry Lord Phenix.140
THOMAS OF POTTE.
Thomas
blushes,
weeps,
cannot read the letter,
but bids the boy tell his Lady
that Lord Phénix
shall not marry her;
he’ll lose his life to stop it.
The boy goes back.
The Lady meets him,
and he tells her
how Thomas cried.
wrfch that, Thomas a Pott began to blushe ; the teares trickeled in bis eye :
80	“ indeed this letter I cannot1 reede,
nor nener a word to see or spye;
“ I pray thee, boy, to me tbonle be trew,
& beers 5 marke I will gine tbee ;
84	& all these words tbon must pursue,
& tell thy Lady this ffrom mee :
66 tell her by ffaith & troth sbee is mine owne, by some part of promise, & soe itts be found, 88 Lore? Phenix shall neuer marry her by night nor ‘without he can winn her with, his hand.
“ on Gilford greene I will her meete,
& bidd that Ladye ffor mee pray ;
92 for there lie Loose „my liffe soe sweete or else the wedding I will stay.”
then backe againe the- boy he went as ifast againe as he cold hye.
96 the Ladye mett him 5 mile on the way :
“ why hast thou stayd soe long ? ” saies shee.
“ boy,” said the Ladye, “ thou art but younge; to please my mind thoule mocke and scorne ; 100 I will not beleeue thee on word of mouth
ynlesse on this booke thou wilt be sworne.”
“ marry, by this booke,” the boy can say,
“ as Christ himselfe be true to mee,
104 Thomas Pott cold not his letter reade for teares trickling in his eye.”
1 MS. camot.—F.THOMAS OF POTTE.
141
“ if this be true,” the Ladye sayd,
“ thou Bonny boy, thou tells to mee,
108 40? I did thee promise,
but heeres 10? He giue itt thee.
“ all my maids,” the Lady sayd,
“ that this day doe waite on mee,
112 wee will ffall downe vpon our knees, for Thomas Pott now pray will wee.
“ if his ffortune be now ffor to winn,1 wee will pray to christ in Trinytye ;
116 lie make him the Slower of all his kinn,
ffor they2 Lord of Arrundale he shalbe.”
now lett vs leaue talking of this Ladye faire, in her prayer good where shee can bee ;
120	& He tell you hou Thomas Pott
for ayd to his Lore? & master came hee.
&) when hee came Lore? Iockye before, he kneeled him low downe on his knee ;
124 saies, “ thou art welcome Thomas Pott! thou art allwayes full of thy curtesye.
“has thou slaine any of thy ffellowes,
or hast thou wrought me some villanye ? ” 128	“ Srr, none of my ffellowes I haue slaine,
nor I haue wrought you noe villanye ;
“ but I haue a loue in Scottland ffaire,
I doubt I must lose her through pouertye ; 3 132 if you will not beleeue me by word of mouth, behold the letter shee writt vnto mee.”
The Lady
gives him
10?.,
says she and her maids
will pray for Thomas,
and she’ll make him Lord Arundel.
Thomas
goes to his Lord,
Jockye,
and tells him that he is like to lose his love through his poverty.
1 MS. wim.—F.	in the MS. between lines 131, 132, but
2 the.—P.	marked by a bracket, and by Percy, to go
3	The next stanza but one is written in its proper place.—F.142
THOMAS OF POTTE.
Lord Jockye says
et Yon shan’t lose her:
when Lord Iockye looked the letter vpon, the tender words in itt cold bee:
136	“ Thomas Pott, take thou no care,
thonst nener loose her thronghe ponertye.
“ thou shalt have 401* a weeke,
you shall	in gold & silner thon shalt rowe,1
have	&	’
gold and 140	& Harbye towne I will thee alio we
silver,
as longe as thon dost meane to wooe;
40 men, and40 horse,
and I’ll go with you.”
“ thon shalt hane 40f?e of thy ffellowes ffaire, & 40 horsse to goe with thee,
144	& 40 speares of the best I hane,
& I my-selfe in thy companye.2 * ”
Thomas declines the offer.
“ I thanke yon, M aster” sayd Thomas Pott, u neither man nor boy shall goe with mee ;
148 I wold not ffor a 1000V	[page 4ii]
take one man in my companye.’’
Lord Jockye	“ why then, god be with thee, Thomas Pott!
advises him	thon art well knowen & proned for a man;
152 Looke thon shedd no gniltlesse bloode, nor nener confonnd no gentlman ;
to fix a place to fight his rival,
and he’ll provide for him.
“ bnt looke thon take with him some trnce, apoint a place of lybertye ;
156 lett him provide as well as hee cann,
& as well provided thon shalt bee.”
Thomas goes to
Lord Phénix and Lady Rosamond,
& when Thomas Pott came to Gilford greene, & walked there a litle beside,
160 then was hee ware of the Lord Phenix,
& with him Ladye Pozamnnd his bryde.
1 row, i. e. roll. See G-loss. ad G-.	over.—P.
Douglas. So Page 21-20. Thretty lang 2 Only half the n in the MS.—E.
twelf monthis rowing over, i.e. rollingTHOMAS OF POTTE.
143
away by the bryde rode Thomas of Pott, but noe word to ber that be did say ;
164 but wben be came Lord Pbenix before,
be gaue bim tbe right time of tbe day.
“ 0 tbou art welcome, Thomas a Potts ! tbou serving man, welcome to mee !
168 bow ffares tbey Lord & Master att borne,
& all tbe Ladyes in tby cuntrye ? ”
“ Sh*, my Lord & my Master is in verry good bealtb; I wott I ken itt soe readylye.
172 I pray you, will you ryde to one outsyde,1 a word or to we to talke wrth mee.”
“you are a Nobleman,” sayd Thomas a Potts,
“ yee are a borne Lord in Scottland ffree ;
176 you may gett Ladyes enowe att borne ;
you shall neuer take my loue from mee ! ”
“ away, away, tbou Thomas a Potts ! tbou seruing man, stand tbou a-side !
180 I wott tberes not a serving man this day,
I know, can binder mee of my bryde.”
“ If I be but a seruing man,” sayd Thomas,
“ & you are a Lord of honor ffree,
184 a speare or 2 He w^’tb you runn,
before lie loose ber thus cowardlye.”
“ on Gilford greene,” Lord Pbenix saies, “ He thee meete;
neither man nor boy shall come hither w^'tb mee.” 188	“ & as I am a man,” said Thomas a Pott,
“ He baue as ffew in my companye.”
and gives Lord Phénix the time o’ day.
Lord Phénix asks
how
Thomas’s master is.
“Very well.
But let me have a word with you.
You are a Lord,
and can get ladies at home.
You shan’t have my love.
I’ll fight you for her.”
Lord Phénix accepts the fight ;
i.e. on one side : the expression is still used in Northamptonshire.—P.144
THOMAS OF POTTE.
and the wedding is put off.
Rosamond is glad,
and says she’ll
pray for Thomas,
and if he wins,
will make him Lord Arundel.
Thomas goes home again,
and falls sick.
Lord Jockye asks whether
he has got his love.
w^th that the wedding-day was stayd, the bryde went ynmarryed home againe ; 192 then to her may dens hast shee loughe,
& in her hart shee was ffhll ffaine..
“ but all my mayds,” they Ladye sayd, u that this day doe waite on mee,
196 wee will ffall downe againe vpon onr knees, for Thomas a Potts now pray will wee.
“ if his ffortnne be ffor to winn,— weele pray to Christ in Trynitye,—
200 He make him the Slower of all his kinn, for the Lord of Arrundale he shalbe.” ,
[The Second Part.]
204
""now let vs leane talking of this Lady fayre, in her prayers good where shee can bee ; lie tell yon the troth how Thomas a Potts for aide to his Lord againe came 1 hee.
\d: parte ^
208
& when he came to strawberry castle,
to try ffor his Ladye he had bnt one weeke ; alacke, ffor sorrow hee cannott fforbeare, for 4< dayes then he ffell sicke.
w^th that his LorcZ & Master to him came,
sayes, “ I pray thee, Thomas, tell mee without all doubt,
212 whether hast thou gotten the bonny Ladye, or thou man 2 gange the Ladye w^thoute.”
1 MS. cane.—F.
maim, i.e. must.—P.THOMAS OF POTTE*
145
“ marry, master, yett that matter is yntryde ; within 2 dayes tryed itt must bee.
216 be is a IjotcI, & I am but a seruing man :
I doubt I must loose ber tbrougb pouertye.” “ wby, Tbomas a Pott, take tbou no care; tboust neuer loose ber tbrougb pouertye ;
“ That’ll be settled in two days,
and I shall lose her from poverty.”
“No,
Thomas,
220	“ tbou sbalt baue balfe my Land a yeere,
& that will raise tbee many a pound ; before tbou sbalt loose tby bonny ladye,
tbou sbalt drop angells w/th bim to tbe ground.1
I’ll lend you half
my land,
224	“ & tbou sbalt baue 40 of tby ifellowes ffaire,	anc] mel1
**	and horses,
& 40 borsses to goe w^tli tbee,
& 40 speres of tbe best I baue,	^
& I my-selfe in tby companye.”
228	“ I tbanke you, M aster” sayd Tbo mas a Potts,
“ but of one tbinge, S?’r, I wold be ffaine ;
If I sbold loose my bonny 2 Ladye,
bow shall I increase jour goods againe P ”
232	“ wby, if tbou winn tby Lady ffaire,
tbou maye well ffortb for to pay mee ;
if tbou loose tby Lady, tbou bast losse enoughe ; and never
not one penny I will aske tbee.”	return if you
lose.”
236	“ Master, you baue BO borsses in one bold, [page 412]
you keepe tbem ranke and royallye ; tberes an old horsse,—for bim you doe not care,—-tbis day wold sett my Lady ffree,
240	“ that is a white, wddi a cutt tayle,
ffull 16 yeeres of age is bee ; giffe you wold lend me that old horsse, then I sbold gett ber easilye.”
“If you’ll lend me your old docked horse, that’s all I want.”
1 Cp. jBessie off Bednall, vol. ii. p. 284, 1. 104-24.—F.	* MS. bomy.—F.
L
VOL. III.146
THOMAS OF POTTE.
“ Don’t be foolish, Thomas;
have a better horse.”
“ None of your wild animals for me ; I want
a sober one,
that if I’m thrown will stand still.”
“ Take the old horse then, and
100 men.”
“ No,” says Thomas,
“ neither man nor boy,
keep ’em all back.”
At Gilford Green
Thomas finds Lord Phénix and men,
244 “thou takes a ifoolish part,” the Lord Iockye sayd, “ & a ffoolish part thou takes on thee; thou shalt haue a better the[n] euer he was, that 40\l cost more nor hee.”
248	“ O Master, those horsses beene wild and wicked,
& litle they can skill of the old traine ; giffe I be out of my saddle cast,
they beene soe wild theyle neuer be tane againe.
252	“ lett me haue age sober & wise ;
itt is a part of wisdome, you know itt plaine ; if I be out of my sadle cast,
heele either stand still or turne againe.”
256	4‘thou shalt haue that horsse with ¿til my hart,
& my cote plate of siluer ffree,
& a 100? men att thy backe for to light if neede shalbee. ’ ’
260 “I thanke you, Master,” said Thomas a Potts,
“ neither man nor boy shall goe with mee. as you are a Lord off honor borne,
let none of my ffellowes know this of mee ;
264	“ ffor if they wott of my goinge,
I wott behind me they will not bee ; without you keepe them vnder a locke, vppon that greene I shall them see.”
268	& when Thomas came to Gilford greene
& walked there some houres 3; then was he ware of the LorcZ Phenix, and 4 men in his companye.
272 “you haue broken jour vow,” sayd Thomas a Pott, “ jour vowe that you made vnto mee; you said you Avoid come jour selfe alone,
& you haue brought more then 2 or 3. ”THOMAS OF POTTE.
147
276	“ these are my waiting men,” Lord Phénix sayd, but they are
“ that enery day doe waite on mee ;	waiting
giffe any of these shold att vs stirr,
my speare shold runn thro we his bodye.”
280	“ Ile rnnn noe race,” said Thomas Potts,
“ till that this othe heere made may bee :
4 if the one of ys be slaine,
the other iforgiuen that hee may bee.’ ”
284 “lie make a vow,” Lo rd Phénix say es,	and he vows
“my men shall beare wittnesse with thee, giffe thon slay mee att this time,	they shall
nener the worsse beloned in Scottland thou slialt Thomas, bee.”
288 then they turned their horsses round about, to run 1 the race more egarlye.
Lord Phenix he was stiffe & stont,
he has runn Thomas quite thorrow the thye,
292	& beere Thomas out of his saddle ffaire ;	through the
vpon the ground there did hee lye.	giwnds^
he saies, for my liffe I doe not care, but ffor the loue of my Ladye.
296	“ but shall I lose my Ladye ffaire P
I thought shee shold haue beene my wiffe ;
I pray thee, Lord Phenix, ryde not away, for with thee I will loose my Liffe.”
300 then 2 3 Thomas a Potts was a seruing man, he was alsoe a Phisityan good ; he clapt his hand vpon his wound;	staunches
with some kind of words he stauncht the blood.3 hls wound!
Thomas says
he’ll fight on.
Theycharge,
and Lord Phenix runs Thomas
1	MS. rum.—F.
2	Though.—P.
3	The notes to Brand's Popular Antiquities, ii. 167, ed. 1841, give (from the Athenian Oracle, i. 158) this charm to stop bleeding at the nose and all other haemorrhages:
In the blood of Adam, Sin was taken,
In the blood of Christ it was all to-shaken,
And by the same blood I do thee charge, That the blood of [Thomas Potts] run ilo longer at large.—F.148
THOMAS OF POTTE.
charges Lord Phénix,
runs him through the inn,
unhorses
him,
and says “ fight on, or give up my Lady.”
Lord Phénix says he can’t fight,
and he’ll give up the Lady.
[page 413] Then, Thomas
staunches Lord Phenix’s wound, and offers him another chance:
to let Rosamond stand between them .and take which she likes.
304 then into his sadle againe hee leepe,
the blood in his body began to warme ; he mist Lor^ Phenix bodye there,
bnt he run him quite throw thebrawne of the arme,
308	& he bore him quite out of his saddle ffaire,
ypon the ground there did he lye; he said, “ I pray thee, Lord Phenix, rise & flight, or else yeeld this Ladye sweete to mee.”
312 “to flight with thee, ’ ’ q^oth Phenix, ‘ ‘ I cannott stand; nor ffbr to flight, I cannott, sure ; thou hast run me through the brawne of the arme ; noe longer of thy spere I cannott endure,
316	“ thoust haue that Ladye with all my hart,
sith itt was like neuer better to proue ; nor neuer a noble man this day
that will seeke to take a pore mans loue.”
320	“ Why then, be of good cheere,” saies Thorns Pott,
“ indeed, your bucher lie neuer bee, for lie come & stanche jouv bloode, giff any thankes youle giue to mee.”
324 as he was stanching1 the Phenix blood,
these words Thomas a Pott cann to him proue,2 “ lie neuer take a Ladye of you thus, but here lie giue you another choice:
328	“ heere is a lane of 2 miles longe ;
att either end sett wee will bee; the Ladye shall sitt ys betweene,
& soe will wee sett this Ladye ffree.”
1 MS. stamching.—F.	2 or praie.—F.THOMAS OF POTTE,
149
332	“ if thoule doe soe,” Lord Phenix say es,
“ Thomas a Pott, as thou dost tell mee ; whether I gett her or goe without her, heeres 40'J lie giue ifct thee.”
336	& when the Ladye there can stand,
a womans mind that day to proue ;
“ now, by my ffaith,” said this Ladye ffaire,
“this day Thomas a Pott shall haue his owne loue.”
340 toward Thomas a Pott the Lady shee went,
to leape behind him hastilye ;
“ nay, abyde a while,” sayd Lord Phenix,
“ ffor better yett proued thou shalt bee :
#-
344	“ thou shalt stay heere wrfch all thy maids,—
in number w^th thee thou hast but 3,—
Thomas a Pott & lie goe beyond yonder wall, there the one of ys shall dye.”
348	& when they came beyond the wall,
the one wold not the other nye ;
Lord Phenix he had giuen his word w^’th Thomas a Pott neuer to flight.
352	“ giue me a Choice,” Lord Phenix sayes,
“ Thomas a Pott, I doe pray thee; lett mee goe to yonder Ladye ffaire to see whether shee be true to thee.”
356	& when hee came that Ladye too,
vnto that likesome dame sayd hee,
“ now god thee saue, thou Ladye ffaire, the heyre of all my Land thoust bee i
360	“ ffor this Thomas a Potts I haue slaine,
he hath more then deadlye wounds 2 or 3; thou art mine owne Ladye,” he sayd,
“ & marryed together wee will bee.”
Lord Phenix accepts this
and gives Thomas 40/.
Kosamond
chooses
Thomas,
and is going to him,
when Lord Phenix tells
her to stop,
while Thomas and he fight to the death.
He asks Thomas
to let him prove her.
He goes to her, tells her
he has killed Thomas,
and she is now his.150
THOMAS OF POTTE.
RosampöA says she’ll
have him hanged,
and then swoons.
Lord Phénix
undeceives her, says Thomas is' alive,
and shall marry her.
Lord Arundel consents too.
So Maids and Ladies all, don’t change an old love for a new or a rich one.
Thomas a Pott shall he Lord Arundel,
364 the Ladye said, “if Thomas a Potts this day thou haue slaine,
thou hast slaine a better man than euer was thee; & lie sell all the state of my Lande,
but thoust be hanged on a gallow tree.”
368 w^th that they Lady shee ffell in a soone, a greeued woman, I wott, was shee:
Lord Phenix hee was readye there, tooke her in his armes , most hastilye ;
372	“ O Lo rd, sweete,1 & stand on thy ffeete !
this day Thomas a Pott aliue can bee; lie send ffor thy father, the hord of Arrundale,
& marryed together I will you see.
376 giffe hee will you 2 maintaine you well,
both gold and Land you shall haue from me.”
41‘ lie see that wedding,” my Lo rd of Arrundale said, “ of my daughters loue that is soe ifaire;
380	& sith itt will no better be,
of all my Land Thomas a Pott shall be my he}rre.”
“ now all my maids,” the Ladye said,
“ & Ladyes of England, faire & ffree,
384 looke you neuer change yo'ar old loue for no new, nor neuer change for no pouertye;
“ ffor I had a louer true of mine owne,3 a seruing man of a small degree ;
388 ffrom Thomas a Pott Ile turne his name,
& the LorcZ of Arrundale hee shall bee.”
ffinis.
1 0 Lady sweete.—Dyce.
2 for not.—E.
3 MS. owme.-F.151
Militant tlje ConquerouiV
The copy of this ballad in Strange Histories, 1607, and Chappell’s Popular Music, i. 94, is entitled “The valiant courage and policy of the Kentishmen with long tails whereby they kept their ancient laws and customs which William the Conquerour sought to take from them—to the tune of Rogero.” “ It was written by Deloney the ballading silk-weaver,” who died in or before 1600. Evans, who prints this ballad from another copy (The Garland of Delight) extracts the following account of the event which gave rise to it, from The Lives of the three Norman Kings of England, by Sir John Heyward, 4to, 1613, p. 97: “Further, by the counsel of Stigand, Archbishop of Canterbury, and of Eglesine, Abbot of St. Augustine’s (who at that time were the chief governors of Kent), as the King was riding towards Dover, at Swanscombe, two miles from Gravesend, the Kentishmen came towards him armed, and bearing boughs in their hands as if it had been a moving wood: they enclosed him upon the sudden, and with a firm countenance, but words well tempered with modesty and respect, they demanded of him the use of their ancient liberties and laws: that in other matters they would yield obedience unto him : that without this they desired not to live. The king was content to strike sail to the storm, and to give them a vain satisfaction for the present; knowing right well that the general customs and laws of the residue of the realm would in short
1 This seems modern by it’s elegance.
The story of the Kentish-Men’s preserving their liberties, 1068 Anno. Collated with a Copy in Pepys’s Collection of Penny Merrim*.1 * 3, Yol. 8. p. 39. B. L. In ye Strange Histories or Garland of Delight. To the Tune of Kogero.—P.
Strange Histories is a different book from
The Garland of Delight. Evans prints this ballad from the latter, but the former is a better authority. As Percy says ‘ Strange Histories or Garland,’ both here and. in his first note to the next poem, I think he may have seen some copy made up of the two Garlands.—■ W. C.152
WILLIAM THE CONQUEROUR.
time overflow these particular places. So pledges being given on both sides, they conducted him to Rochester, and yielded up the county of Kent and the castle of Dover into his power.” (Chappell, Pop. Mus. i. 94.)
When
William
conquered
England,
4
When william duke of normandye
w¿th glitering 1 speare & skeild
had entered into 2 ffaire England,
& told 3 his ffoes in ffeild,
[page 414]
he was crowned by the Archbishop of York;
vpon Christmas day, in soleme 4 sort, then was hee crowned heere by Albert, Archbis.hopp of yorke,
8	& many a noble peere.
which being done, he changed quite the customes of England,5
punished his	& punished 6 such as daylye sought
opponents,
12 his statutes to w^thstand.
and subdued London,
but Kent withstood him.
& many cytyes hee subdued, ffaire London with the rest, but7 then Kent did still withstand his power,8 16	& did his lawes detest.
He went to Dover to destroy the castle,
to douer then he tooke the 9 way, the castle downe for 10 to flinge which Aueragus had 11 builded. there, 20 the noble Brittaine 12 Kinge.
but the Archbishop of Canterbury,
but when 13 the braue Archbishopp bold of Canterbury knew,
the Abbot of	the Abbott of S* Austines eke,
Sb. Austin’s,
24 with all their gallant crew,
1	glistering.—P.
2	There’s a w seemingly before the /.
-F.	3 foil’d.—P.
4 solemn.—P.	5 of this Land.—P.
6 punisht.—P.	7 del.—P.
8 force.—P.	9 his.—P.
10 Deh—P.	11 del.—P.
12 British.—P.	13 which when.—WILLIAM THE CONQUEROUR.
153
the 1 sett tliemselues in order 2 bright, these miseheefes to preuent, vnth all the yeomen brane & bold that were in ffruitfull Kent.	and the Kentish yeomen
att Canterbury they did 3 meete vpon one certaine day, 4 with sword, w-ith sheild, wtth bill, with bow, to stopp 5 the conquerours way.	met at Canterbury,
“ 6 let vs not line like bondmen pore to ffrenehmen in their pryde, but lett vs7 keepe our ancyent lybertyes, what chance soeuer tyde 8 !	and resolved
“ & rather lett vs 9 dye in bloody ffeild, wftth manly courage prest, then to endure the seruile yoke w/wch wee thus much 10 detest! ”	not to submit.
thus did the Kentish Commons crye vnto their leaders still, & then they marched 11 in warlike sort, , & stood att swansco 12 hill.	They marched to Swanscomb Hill,
& vnder a wood 13 they hidd themselues, vnder they shadow greene,	hid in a wood,
wherby 14 to gett them vantage good 48 of all their ffoes vnseene.15
«they.—P. armour.—P. did they.—P.
sword & spear ... & bow.—P. And Stopt.—P. yeild like.—P. del.—P.
so e’er betyde.—P. del.—P.
10	so much.—P.
11	And so marcht forth.—P.
12	Swanscomb.—P.
13	There in the woods.—P.
“J Therby.—P.
15 And for ye conql8 coming there They privily laid wait,
And therby suddenly appal’d his lofty high conceit.—P.154
WILLIAM THE ÇONQUEHOUIb
and on
William's
approach
marched out, each carrying a bough.
& when 1 thé spyed his approche in place where they did stand, they marched fforth to hemm him in ; 52 eche man tooke 2 3 a bow in his hande.
William sees a wood moving towards him,
3 before, behind, & on eche syde as hee did cast his eyes,4 he espyed these woods 5 in sober pace 56 approach to him ffnll nye.
and quakes for fear.
The shape of men he cold not see, the bowçs did hyde them soe ;
& how 6 his hart did quake for feare 60 to see a iforrest goe !
The Kentish men hem him in, draw their swords, throw down their boughs,
but when the Kentish men had thus enclosed the Conquerour round, then suddenly they drew their swords, 64	& threw their bouges to ground ;
sound a charge,
and deploy.
their banners they displayed 7 in sight, their trumpetts sounded 8 a charge, the rattling drummes strike vp alarme,9 68 their troopes streitch iforth to the Large,10
William is	11 wheratt this dreadfull Conquerour
aghast,
theratt was sore agazed,12 & most in pmil when he thought13 72 all perills had beene past.
1	Tor when as they did.—P.
2	del. tooke.—P.
3	Percy marks to come in here:
So that up to the conqucroxs sight Amazed as he stood They seem’d to be a walking grove Or else a moving wood.—P.
4	eye.—P.
5	spyed the wood with.—P.
6	now with fear did quake.—P.
7	display.—P.
8	sounde.—P.
9	Their .... alarms.—P.
10	out at large.—P.
11	The conqi with all his train
Were hereat sore aghast.—P.
12	aghast or agast.—P.
13	they thought.—P.WILLIAM THE CONQTJEROUIL
155
1 therfore ynto the Kentishmen an Embassacloure he sent, to know they1 2 eanse they tooke in hand 76 these warres, to what entent.1
and sends
to ask what the Kentish men want.
to whom they made this short reply,
“ffor liberty weele ffight,3 And to enioy King Edwards the Confessors 4 80 -which. Wee doe hold arright.5 ”
“why6 then,” said the dreadfnll Conquerour,	William
J	m	agrees to
“ yon shall hane what yon will; youv libertyes, jour ancyent cnstomes,7 84 soe that yon wilbe still;
“ & eche thing else which yon will crane with, reason att my hands, soe that yon will acknowledge me 88 cheefe King of ffaire England.”
the Kentishmen thereypon agreed,8 & layd all9 their armes asyde;
& by this meanes King Edwards lawes 92 doe still in kent10 abyde.
and the Kentish men lay down their arms. ,
give them all they ask,
“ Our liberties, and King
Lawes [page 415] Edward’s laws.”
& in no place in England else snch cnstomes 11 doe remaine, as they by their manlike 12 policye 96 did of dnke william gaine.
ffinis.
Thus Kent alone keeps its old customs.
1~1 Unto the Kentishmen he sent The cause to understand.
Eor what intent & for what cause They took this war in hand.—P.
2 the. —P.	3 we fight.—P.
4	del.—P.
5	our right.—P.
6	del. why.—P.
7	You? ancient customs & your laws. —P. See note at the end of the volume. —E.
8	agreed thereon.—P.
9	delend all.—P.
10	In Kent doe still.—P.
J1. those Customs.—P.
12 Wkick they by manly.—P.156
€be : jam toning of feeneru tin 1t: btè Cftt'iîiren t1
“ This,” says Percy, “ as well as the foregoing, is an excellent ballad.” To us it seems the song of a very pedestrian Muse. The subject is excellent. It is preserved also in Strange Histories.
When
Henry I. had subdued the French,
When: as royall King 1 2 henery the ffirst had ffoyled his ffoes in ffrance,
& spent the pl[e]asant springe 4 his honors 3 to adnance.
he came back to England,
then into England he returned 4 w^th fíame & victorye, what t[i]me the subiects of this Land 8 receiued him ioyfullye,
but left his children in France,—
but att his home returne, his children left hee still in ffrance, ffor to soiourne 12 to purchase learned skill.
Duke	Duke william w¿th his brother dere,
William,
Lord	Lord Richard was his name,
Richard,
who was the Erie of Chester then,
16 w[ho] 5 thirsted after fíame ;
1	a.d. 1120. To the tune of The Ladies Laughter. This, as well as the
foregoing, is an excellent ballad. Collated
with a copy in Strange Histories or The
Garland of Lelight, 12™, Canto 3d, B.
L., in Pepys Collection of Penny Mer-
rim*®, vol. 3. p. 14.—P.
2	After our roy! king.—P.
3	honour.—P.
4	Into fair England he return’d.—P.
5	and thirsted.-—P.THE DROWNING! OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN,
157
the Kmgrs ffaire daughter eke,
the Lady Marry bright,	Lady
with diuers noble peeres,	wUh pTers
20	& many a hardy Knight;	and kuigMs.
all these he left1 together there, in pleasure 2 and delight, when that our "King to England came 24 after the bloodye flight.
but when ffaire fflora had
drawen fforth her treasure drye, then winter sadd and cold 3 28	with hoarye head drew niee.4
When
summer was over,
and winter came on,
then these princes all w^ith one assent 5	the princes
prepared all things meete to passe the seas into 6 ffaire England,
32 whose sight to them was sweete.
“ to England lett vs hye,” this euerye one did say,
“ ffor Christamas draweth nye ; 36 no longer lett vs stay,
wanted to
spend
Christmas in England,
but let vs 7 spend the Merry Christamas time in game and pleasant sort,9 where Lady pleasure doth attend 40 with many a princely sport.”
and enjoy themselyes.
were left.—P. pleasures.—P. cold and sad.—P. nigh.—P.
Those princes all. . . cons[ent],—P.
0 for.—P.
7	[let t's] del.—P.
8	MS. tine.—F.
9	within our Father’s court.—P.158
THE DROWNING- OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN.
They set sail,
to seas 1 these princes went,
fnll iFranght 2 w^th mirth & ioy ; but all their merryment 3 44 returned to greet4 anoye.
but the sailors got drunk,
for the saylors & the shipmen,5 thronghe ffoule exeesse of wine, they were soe amazed that 6 on the sea 48 they showed themselues like swine.
no one could steer,
the sterne 7 no man cold guide, the Master sleeping Lay, the saylors all besyde 52 went reeling euerye way,
and the ship went at random.
The princes
soe that the shipp att randome rode vpon the ffominge ffloode, wherby in per ill of their liues 56 these princes 8 alway stoode,
weep and fear,
which, caused distilling 9 teares from their faire eyes to ffall, their harts were filled with ifeare,10 60 No Ioy11 they had att all,	[page4i6]
thé wished themselues vpon the land 1000 times and more ;
but at last	then att they last12 they come in sight
see England ^ 0f Fnglands pleasant shore.
' 1 To sea.—P.
That y telle an evel lype,
Mon that doth him into sliype Whil the weder is wod;
For, be he come to the depe. He may wrynge hard ant wepe, Ant be of drery mod.
‘ Ofte rap reweth ; ’
Quoth Hendyng. Reliquie Antiques, i. 115.—F.
^ Fulfill’d.—P.
3	this their merrimf —P.
4	did turn, to dear.—P.
5	The sailers .... Shipmen ail.—P.
6	were so disguis’d that.—P.
7	A.-S. steor-ern, the steering-place, the stern.—F.
8	The princes.—P.
9	wAich made distilling.—P.
10	fears.—P.
11	no helpe.—P.
12	And at the last.—P.THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN. 159
then euery one began
to tnrne these siges 1 to smiles,	and smile,
their conlonrs 2 pale and wan 68	a cheerfnll looke Exiles.
the princelye Lords most louingdye	Lords
L	J	J	embrace
* their Ladyes doe embrace ;	their ladiei
3 “ In england,” q^oth they “ wee shalbe 72	within a litle space.” 3
“take comforts to jour seines,” thus euerye one did say,
“ & be no more dismayd ;
76 behold the Land att Last! ” 4
and all take comfort.
5 but as they did thus cheerfullye their comfort to attaine, then soddainlye vpon a rocke 80 the shipp itt burst in twayne.5
But at that moment
the ship strikes, and breaks in two.
wtth that a greiuous scrike 6 among them there was made, & euery one did seeke 84 , on something to be stayd.
Every one seeks a support,
but all in vaine ! such helpe thé lacke.7
the shipp soe soone did sinke that in the seas 8 they were constrained 88 to take their latest drinke.
but all are whelmed,
1	their sighes.- P.
2	colour.— P.
3—8 Por now in England shall we he Quoth they in little space.—P.
4 then they said
behold the Land at last
Then he &c.
The worst is gone & past.—P.
5—s While they did this joyful hope With comfort entertaine The goodly ship upon a rock In sunder hurst in twaine.—P.
6	shriek.—P.
7	they sought.—P.
8	sea.—P.160 THE DROWNING- OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN.
there might you see the Lords and Ladyes ffor to lye amidst the salt sea ffome,
92 with, many a greinons crye
notwithstanding their efforts,
still laboured for their lines 1 defence wáth streched armes abroad,
& lifting ypp their Lilly hands 96 for helpe with one accordd.
ëxcept Duke Richard, who gets into the cockboat ;
but as good ffortune wold,
the sweete yonng duke did gett into the Cockebotte then,
100 where safelye he did sitt.
but when he heard his si [s]ter 2 crye,
the 'Kings faire daughter deere,
but he turns	he turned his boate to take her in
to rescue his
Bister,	104 whose death did draw soe neere ;
but while he turned his boate to take his sister in,3 the rest such shifft did make 108 in seas as they did swimn,
otherscrowd	for to 4 tlle boate a number gott,
boat,**0	soe many att the Last,5
that the boate & all that was 6 therin
and all are
drowned.* H2 was drowned & ouer cast.
of Lords & gentlemen,
& ladyes flaire of fface, not one escaped then ;
116 this was7 a heauinesse !
1	labouring .... life’s.—P. J
2	sister.—P.
3	he strove to take
His sweet young sister in.-—P.
4	That to.—P.
5	as at the last.—P.
6	The boat .... were.
7	Which was.—P.THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN.
161
60^e and ten1 were drowned in all, not one escaped death but one pore bncher, who bad swoome 120 himselfe quite out of breath.
w&ich was 2 most heauy newes vnto our comlye Kinge ; all mirth hee did refuse,3 124 this word when he did 4 bringe,
where by 5 this meanes no child wee 6 had his Kingdome to succeede.
7 his sisters sonne was crowned Kinge,
128 as wee may plainly reede.7
70 perish.
One, a butcher, alone escapes.
The King is sad at the news,
and refuses all mirth.
No child succeeds him but his nephew.
ffinis,
1	Thre Score & ten.—P.
2	This was.—P.
3	Who did all mirth refuse.—P.
4	they did.—P.
5	Por.—P.
6	he.—P.
7“”7 Whereby his sister’s Son was king, As you shall plainly read.—P.
VOL. III.
M162
¿Mtirt&trfttff of ©fctoari* tfje ffottrti) Was sfonnetf»1 * *
This ballad differs very slightly from that published in the 1659 edition of The Grown Garland of Golden Roses (reprinted by the Percy Society, ed. Mr. Chappell), and reprinted from that work in Evans’ Old Ballads, iii. 38. The piece is there intituled “ An excellent song made of the successors of King Edward the Fourth, to the tune of 0 man in desperation.” It contains three stanzas more than the present version, one after v. 8, one after v. 28, one after v. 126. Else the differences are merely verbal.
The ballad is evidently the production of a professional hand. It tells its story in a business-like manner, with no great excitement either of the imagination or the feelings. Pegasus here appears as a sort of cab-horse. His driver awaited on his “ stand ” any call that might be made for him. Poor Pegasus, well broken to harness, jogged steadily away in the required direction, when the call came,—to the Tower, it might be, or to Bosworth Field, or to Swanscombe. His pace seldom varied. His caracolling and flying days were past and gone. He did his work in a sober plodding style, not without an occasional thought of the “ feed ” that might reward his efforts.
There is another ballad on this same subject—and of no greater merit—in the 1612 edition of the Croivn Garland, also reprinted by Evans.
66 The greater proportion of the ballads are historical,” says Mr. Chappell in his Preface to the Percy Society reprint of
1 This is but of moderate excellence, Song on this Subject, but very different
tho’ written so late as James theirs from this, in the printed Collection, 12 m.°,
Time. See Stan8. 31, .32. There is a Vol. ii. p. 100.—P.MURTHERING OF EDWARD THE FOURTIf HIS SONNES. 163
the 1612 edition* “and from early times down to the end of the seventeenth century the common people knew history chiefly from ballads. Aubrey mentions that his nurse could repeat the History of England from the Conquest down to the time of Charles I. in ballads.” Could any nurses of the present day perform such a feat ?
WHEN: as the King of England dyed, Edward the fourth by name, he left 2 sonnes of tender yeeres 4 for to succeed the same.
When
Edward IV. died
he left two young sons.
then Richard, duke of Glouster, desiring Kingly sway, desired1 by treason how to make 8 his brothers sonnes away.
G-lo’ster and Buckingham
plot to kill them,
betwixt them they Layd downe their plott,2 & straight together went to Stony Stratford, where they mett 12 the -'King incontinent.
[page 417]
and meet the young King at Stony Stratford.
the sweete young King did entertaine his vnckle Louinglye,3 not thinkinge of their 4 vile intent,
16 nor of their 5 trecherye.
& then the duke of Buckingham,	Buckingham
to sett abroach this thinge, he began a quarrell for the noncte 20 with them that kept the Kinge.
1 contrived.—P.	in the MS., bnt are marked at the side
a .Then he & Buckingham did plot.—	with a bracket.—P.
P.	4 his.—P.
5 his.—P.
Lines 13, 14 are written before 1.11164 MURTHERINGi OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES.
arrests Lord G-ray,
Lord Rivers,
& then they did arrest Lord Gray, the Brother to the Qneene ; her other brother, the Lord Riuers, 24 in durance as they had beene.
and Sir T. Vaughan,
the King’s friends,
Sir Thomas Yaughan then Likewise 1 did there and then 2 arrest; soe was the 'King of all his ffreinds 28 suddenly dispossest.
in breeffe, these Noblemen were sent to Pontfraete Oastle soone,
and has	where thé, Tinl 3 short time afterwards,
them put to	L J
death.	32 to death was eche man doone.
Grio’ster and Buckingham take the King to London,
then forth they brought they King alone, towards London with great speed, vsing their perswasions full ffalselye 4 36 not to Mislike that deede.
& when to London that they came, ffor him they had prepared and lodge	the Bishopps pallace ffor the nonet,
Bishop’s^6 40 but saflye vnder guard.
Palaee.
Grio’ster
names
himself
Protector,
& then duke Richard takes vpon him the keeping of the King, naming himselfe Lo rd protectore,
44 his wished ends to bringe ;
desiring 5 how then 6 in his mind to gett the other brothers too, and the	the which the Cardinall vndertooke
Cardinal
48 ffull Cuningly to doo.
1	in like wise.—P.
2	They then and there.—P.
3	in.—P.
4	their false persuasions.—P.
5	Devizing.—P. contriving, then how.—P.MURTHERING OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES. 165
& then the Cardinall in great hast ynto the Queene doth come; vsing his perswasions hull ffalselye,
52 then he gott her other sonne.
then they both in ffull great hast ynto the tower were sent, where they ]iued but short space,
56 ffor death did them prevent.
then Duke Richard, haning ffound this meanes to worke these 2 princes death, procured one of Iames Tirrells hired men1 60 ffull soone to stopp their breath:
Iames Dighton & Miles fforrest both, these 2 vile wicked men,2 these 2 were made the instruments 64	to worke this murder then.
these princes being asleepe in bedd, lyinge arme in arme, not thinking of their vile entents 68	nor thinking any harme,
these villaines, in the ffetherbedd did wrapp them up in hast,
& w^th the clothes soe smothered them 72 till liffe and breath was past.
& then they both were buryed, where no man yett doth know, but marke how god, in his iudgment iust,
76 did his right reuengment showe !
persuades the Queen to give up her other son.
G-lo’sier puts them both in the Tower,
and hires two men,
Dighton and Forrest,
who, wrhen the princes are asleep in bed,
smother them with the feather-bed.
But G-od takes vengeance for this.
1 one Sü James.—P.
these vile and wicked men.—P.166 MURTHERING OP EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES.
Buckingham is beheaded.
Richard
never sleeps, is always in fear of his life,
and at last Richmond
fights him at Bosworth,
and he is slain,
and set naked and mangled on a hcfi’se.
Richmond is
crowned Henry VII.,
is succeeded by Henry VIII.,
for betwixt those Dukes within short space such a discord there was bredd, as Buckingham to please the 'King 80 was fforcet to loose his head.
& then Bich&rcZ in his Kinglye seate no ease nor rest cold ffind, the murthering of his nephews did 84 so sore molest his minde.
he neuer cold haue quiett sleepe, his liffe itt stood in ffeare, his hand was on his dagger straight,	[page 418]
88 that no man might come him neere.
but att the Last Erie Bichmond came w¿th such a puissant band, that this ffalse King [he] was inforced 92 in his defence to stande.
then meeting him att Bosworth ffelld,1 they fought with harts full faine; yett ffor shedding of these princes blood,
96 god caused King Kiouarcl to be slaine.
& being dead, vpon a horsse all naked he was borne, his fflesh [all2] cutt & mangled,
100 his haire all rent and torne.
& then Erie Bichmond worthelye, ffor this his deede of fíame, of England hee was crowned King,
104 Henery the 7^ by name,
of whom most royall lines did springe, that fíamous King of might,
Henery the 8t]\ our 3 noble deeds 108 our chronicles doe well recyte.
See Bosworth Fetide below.—F.
2 all cut.—P.
3 whose.—P.MURTHERINGr OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES. 167
when that hee dyed, hee left his Land & crowne to Edward his sweete sonne, whose gracyous raigne all England may rue 112 his time soe soone is come.
& then his Sister Marye came, next princesse of this Land ; hut in her time blind ignorance 116 against gods truth did stand,
which caused many a mans blood, to be shedd in ruefull case ; then god did England once regard,1 120	& turned all these stormes to grace.
ifor then the other sister came,
Elizabeth our Late Queene,
& shee released her peoples harts 124 ffrom greeffe & eirrou[r]s 2 cleane.
& then the 3 mightye lames did come, .
of king Henerz/s royal! race ; whose happy dayes our Lord preserue,
128 grant him Long time & space !
ffinis.
1 England once more God did regard. —P.
he by
Edward VI.,
he by Mary
(who killed the
martyrs),
she by Elizabeth, our late Queen,
and she by James I., whom God preserve !
2 erronrs.—P.
8 MS. the [blotted] the.—F.168
€bt t Ml i oti printed:]1
The transitoriness of the glory of this life was a thing that our early writers were much impressed with, a theme on which they often wrote.
a 1 man hab munde bat of bis lif ber commib ende: of erbe and axen 2 is ure kunde, and in-to dnste we schullib wende i
was the burden of many a sermon and song. As one of the former preaches (Phil. Soc. Trans. 1858, Pt. ii. p. 2) to its nonwashing hearers of former days, why should men be proud or expect to live ?
Man! of bi schuldres and of bi side bou mi^te hunti luse and flee! of such a park i ne hold no pride; be dere nis nau3te bat bou mi3te sle.
What is the “gentil man ” but a sack stuffed full of dirt and dung that stinketh loathly and is black? When once the soul is out of his body, a viler carrion is there none. And,
bei3 man be rich of lond and lede, and holdib festis ofte and lome,
'	hit nis no doute he sal be dede,
to 3eld<? recning at be dome.
Worldly weal comes and goes, is but deceit, dirt, guile, and vanity; man’s life is but a shadow; now he is, and now he is not. Death spares none. Beware then of “ helle pine.”
Why, asks another,3
Whi is bis worlde biloued bat fals is & veyn ?
Its power passes away like a brittle pot that is fresh and gay. It
1 N.B. This song showed seem to have	2 ashes.—F.
been wrote soon after the Death of 3 Hymns to the Virgin and, Christ, Henry 8. Vid. St. ult.—P.	E. E. T. Soc., p. 86, 1867.—F.THE FALL OF PRINCES.
169
is full of sin, false in its business, false in its pleasures: unstable as water, it cannot excel:
It is rabir to bileeue the wageringe wijnde
ban be chaungeable world pat makij? men so blinde.
Solomon, Sampson, Absalom, Duke Jonatas, Caesar, the Kich Man of the Grospels, Tullius, Aristotle :
Where ben peso worjn pat were heere to-forn ?
Bobe kingis & bischopis ? her power is al lorn.
Lydgate translated his Falles of Princes from Boccaccio to point the same moral, and few Early English religious poems can be found without it, “ ]?at worldli blis is but a ]?ing of vanite.” (Hymns to Virgin, p. 81, 1. 85-6.) The writer of the present poem preaches a like sermon, that life is short and none can resist Deaths mace. If all the heroes of the world could not do so, how can we ? They have died, and we must all follow them as fast as we may. But the name of his last hero sounds odd to our ears, though it justifies the impression that Mr. Froude says the king made on his contemporaries: he was evidently to them the “ Solomon in all his glory ” of his age :
if wisdom or manhood by any meanes cold hane saned a mans liffe to endure for ever, then King Henery the 8^ soe noble and soe bold, out of this wyde world he wold haue passed neuer.
Though the' climax is to us an anti-climax, it is useful as a sign of the times.
lHE : hye god most gracyous, his 1 goodenesse alone, God, after thou hast2 made vpon the earth, beast, bird and tree, beasts^birds, Angells in heanen, & ministers to thy throne,
4 the snn & the moone, the Element & skye.	angels,
^	sun, and
att Last thou made [man] of3 noblest degree,	moon,
after thine owne likenesse, such was thy grace.	made man.
Lawde wee him therffore, for happy wee bee ;
8 But heere wee beene sure to liue but a space.
whose.—P.
2 Hath.—P.
3 madest man of.—P.170
THE PALL OF PKINCES.
But where are Adam
and Eve ?
Dead. And we can live but a space.
Where is Adam our ffirst progenitor,
of1 bewtye & of cuning, & 2 neuer had no peere ?
& Eue his companion, that most oryent ffigure ?
12 he Kmg, & shee Queene, ouer all this world in ffere; yet through their great ffalls soone changed we all our cheer[e,]
that all their posterytye shold ffollow their trace ; death hath them deuoured, this matter is clere ;
16 but3 heere wee beene sure to liue but a space.
Where are David,
Samson,
Hercules,
and Duke Joshua? Their glory’s gone,
and we don’t live here long.
Where is Kmg Dayid the doughtye, that Golyas ouer« came P
or duke Iosua the gentle, of him what shold I tell ? or Samson that ruled the Lyon like a lambe ?
20 or Hercules that quelled the porter of hell ? where is duke Iosua that euer bare the bell P their pompe & their glory is no we very basse.4 lett this be a mirrour alwayes in our sight,
24 that heere we beene sure to liue but a space.
Where are Alexander,
Nebuchad-
nezzar,
Augustus,
Hannibal ?
[page 419]
All dead, and we must follow them.
Where are Hector,
Rowland, and Oliver ?
Where is Alexander the mightye, that conquered this world wide,
& gouerne att 5 one day as himselfe did luste ? or Nabuchondozer, that prince proud of price 6 ?
28 or Augustus, w^th his power to them was full lust7 ? where is Haniball the hardy, threw all in the duste, and brought all roonie 8 into a sorry stay ?
All these be dead and gone, and after them wee must,9 32 and wee must all ffollow as fast as wee may.
Where is Hector of Troy, that one of the 9 worthies was ?
& worthy sure he was soe for to bee; or Rowland & Oliuer, as itt came to passe,10 36 in number they were doughtye men all 3,
1 for.—P.	2 that.—P.
8 that.—P.
4	base.
5	govern’d it.—P.
6	full of pride.—P.
7	that was with his power full (right) just.—P.
8	Rome.—P.
9	go after them we must.—P.
10	MS. paste.—P.THE FALL OF PRINCES.
171
but yett w^th death they cold not agree
in this world to hane no Longer space.
death, all their glory from them he did ring,1	Dead, as we
m	shall soon
40	& wee must all follow them in a short space.	be.
Where is Godfrey of Bullen, that Troian soe stont ?
or Mithydrates, where is hee ? or Iulyus Machabeus that went not about P 44 or Guy of warwicke, as doughtye as hee ? where is Huon 2 of Burdeaux, where is hee ?
these cold not refuse death w^th his mace 3 ; therfor marke my sayings all you that4 heere bee, 48 for heere wee beene sure to liue but a space.
Where are Godfrey,
Mithridates,
Guy of Warwick, Huon of Bordeaux ?
Dead, and we can’t live here long.
52
56
Where is Iason the doughtye that woone the fleece of gold,
or Acctollen 5 that was called the scorge of god, or Phebus, the wisest man ypon the mould ?
or Acchilles that was called the Troians rodd ? where is "Kmg Herod the herlott, was6 worsse then madd,7
for with his owne Kinsmen himselfe he did deface ? Loe ! heere you may see, ffor all this noble 8 blood, that here we beene sure to liue but a space.
Where are Jason,
Attila,
Phebus,
Achilles,
and King Herod?
We can live here but a space.
where is the Emperour that the bold clarke was Where are called9?
the Sarasins doe remember him, & shall doe for euer10;
or Iulyus Caesar, w^th 11 head balde,	Julius
60 that brought Boome & the Homans to a sorry stay ? 8Bsar*
1	wring did he.—P.
2	Sir Huon.—P.
3	? MS. mate, altered to mace.—P.
4	MS. that you.—F.
5	Antiochus.—P.
0 who was.—P.
7	wood.—P.
8	hye.—P.
9	Was it Charlemagne (1. 77) ? He encouraged learning.—T. Wright.
10	aye.—P.
11	with his.—P.172
THE FALL OF PBINCES.
and Nero ?
Dead, as we soon shall be.
where is Nero the cruell, that ruled soe many a day ?
these cold not refuse death with his mace ; therfore marke my saying, all you that heere bee,1 64 for wee been© sure to liue but a space.
Where are
Pyrrhus,
Duloina,
Sir Yolen,
Troylus,
Tambur-
lani?
Remember that we must die.
Where is Pironius,2 the proud enemy to E-oome ?
or dulcina the terror, or Cicill the Kinge 3 * P or Sir Yolen, was called the hardy Troian ?
68 or Troylus of Troy that loued well to springe ?
where is Tamberlaine that ouercame the Turke [in fight],^
that all the world did bring in dread & in doubt of his deuilish face P
lett this be a mirrour allwayes in our sight,
72 that heere wee beene sure to liue but a space.
Where are Arthur,
Tristram,
Grawaine,
Lancelot,
Charlemagne ?
Dead too, and we cannot live long.
Where is 'King Arthur the venturer, with his Knights bold ? 5
or Sir Tristeram, that treasure of curtesye P or Sir Grawaine the good, with his helmett made of gold ?
76 or Sir Lancelott dulake, a Knight of Chiualrye ? where is King Charlemaine6 of ffrance, from them wold 7 neuer fflee ?
yett these cold not refuse death with his mace, heere you may see, ffor all the hye degree,
80 that here [we 8] beene sure to liue but a litle 9 space.
1	hear may.—P. See Dr. Robson’s note below on leane, 1. 72 of Sir John Butler.—F.
2	Pyrrhus.—P. I can’t find Dulcina and Volen.—F.
3	? Robert of Sicily :
Yn Cysylle was a nobulle kynge,
Fayre and stronge, and some dele ¿ynge. .
The kynge was calde kynge Roberd,
Never man in hys tyme wyste hymaferde.
Hattiwell's Bugm Poeticce, p. 49. According to Froissart (translated) he
“was a great asfcronomyre, and full of
great science ” ; and in 1529 a play, “ Kynge Robart of Cicylye,” was performed at the High Cross at Chester, ib. p. 71.—F.
4	in fight.—P.
5	The latter half of each of lines 73-7 is written in the MS. as the first half of the line succeeding it.—F.
6	Only two strokes and the dot of the i in the MS. for in.—F.
7 Who would.—P.	MS. is right. Compare 1. 85 in the next stanza.—F.
8 wee.—P.	0 short.—P.THE FALL OF PRINCES.
173
84
Where is Kmg Richard, was called Cwer de Lyon ?
or Saladine the good Sarazen, where is hee ? or Edward the 3? that wan Gasconie & Gaines1 ? or "King Henery the 5 % a prince of Chinalrye P
Where are Cour-de-Lion, Saladin, Edward III.,
Henry V.,
where is duke Charles of Burgundye, from them did neuer flee ?
Duke Charles ?
yett these cold not refuse death w^th his mace ; wherfor marke my saying, all you that here bee, 88 that here wee beene sure to liue but a space.
All dead. Take heed, then,
we shall soon die too.
flor if wisdome or manhood by any meanes cold haue saued a mans lifle to endure for euer, then King Henery the 8ih soe noble and soe bold,
92 out of this wyde world he wold haue 2 passed neuer, but death, where he comes, all things doth disseuer; where-euer he aproches, he will take place.
If manhood
could have saved a man, Henry Yin. would not have died.
But death takes all.
96
good Lore#! bring ys to thy blisse, there to remaine for euer;
flor heere we be sure to liue but a space.
Grod,bringus to thy bliss ! Here we can live not long.
ffinis.
1	G-uisnes. Gasconie may be Gascoine.—F.
2	One stroke only for u in the MS.—F.174
fflbt mitt brotont maplj1 2
This is but a torn and tattered copy of one of the most exquisite pieces of late Mediaeval poetry.
The oldest copy extant is that inserted by Arnold in his Chronicle, the first edition of which appeared at Antwerp in 1502. The poem was even then, we may infer, considered old and precious for its antiquity.
See General Introduction to Yol. II. Part I. and Introduction to A Jigge\ also Hazlitt’s Early Popular Poetry, ii. 271.
Men complain that,
do what they will to win a woman’s love,
1
2 Eight & noe wronge, these men amonge, [page 420] as [on] women doe Complaine, affirming this, what a thing itt is 4 of a labour spent in vaine
[To love them well; for never a dele a They love a man agayne ;] for lett a man doe what he can 8 their flavor to obtaine,
1 Prior’s Poems, Vol. I. p. 160. This	Copy,	and	several of them transpos’d,
is a very imperfect and mutilated Copy.	—P.	The	copy below is from Richard
That printed by Prior is very correct.	Hill’s	MS.,	ah. 1500-30 a.d.—E,
There are 40 or 50 lines left out of this
THE NUTBROWN MAYDE.
[From the Balliol MS, 354, marked Arch. P, 1. 6.]
l
2 Be it right, or wronge, Thes [leaf 210&] men a-monge on wymen do complayn ; affermyng this, how that it is a labowre spent in vayn to love them welle; for neuer a dele a they love a man a-gayn :
for late a man do what he can, ther favowre to attayn, yet, yf a newe to them pursue, ther ferste trew lover than labowreth for nowght; for from her thowght
he is a banysshed man.THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
175
& if a new to them persue, the ffirst true loner then he labours for nought,—fur from his thought,— 12 for he is a banished man.
when a new lover comes the old one is turned off.
2
1 And I say not nay,—but as you said, itt is both written and sayd,— but womens ffaith, who soe sayth,
16 [is] right vtterly decayde;
yett neuertheles, right good wittnesse in this cause may be Layd : that they 2 Loue true, & doe continue, 20 reccords the nutt-browne 3 maide: ffor when her loue came her to proue, he come to make his moane ; a b he sayd, “ alas ! thus stands the case, 24 I am a banished maun.
But though some say that
women’s faith is decayed,
yet the Nut-brown Maid’s love continued true.
Her lover came to prove her;
said: “ I am a banished man.
2
1 I say not nay, but that alle day it is both wretch & said that woman’s feyth, Is, as who seyth, alle vttnrly decayde;
But neuer^elesse, Bight good witnes -In this case myght be layde, that they love trew, & contenewe, Recorde the Nutbrown mayde, which, wha^ her love cam her to prove, to her to make his mone,a wolde not departe ; for in her hart she loved but hym alone.
3
Than betwen us let us discvsse what was alle the maner Betwen them two : we wille also telle alle the payn in fere that she was in. Now I begyn, so that ye me answere; wherfoi*, alle ye that present be,
I pray you, geve an ere.
I am the knyght; I com by nyght, as secrete as I can;
b saying, “ alas! thus stondith the eaas,
I am a banysshed man.”
4
PTJELLA.*
And I jouv wille for to fulfille In this wille not Refuse; trustyng to shew, In wordis fewe that men have, an ylle use (To ther qwti shame) wymen to blame, and cavselesse them accuse : therfor to you I answere now, alle wymen to excuse,—
Myn own hart dere, wi’U you what chere ?
I pray you, telle me a-non ; ffor, in my mynd, of alle mankynd
1	love but you alon.
2	MS. they that.—F.
3	MS. browme.—F.
* Puella and Squyre are at the right sides of the MS.— F.176
TIIE NUTT BKOWNE MAYD.
I’ve done a deed for which I
must die,
or flee
like an outlaw
to the woods. I’m a banished man.”
3
1 “ ffor itt standeth soe that a deede is doe wherby great harme may growe ; my destynye is ffor to dye 28 a shameffull death, I trowe,
or else ffor to fflee ; the one must hee.
none other reed I know but to withdraw my-selfe Like an outlawe, 32	& betake me to my bowe.
& therfore, adew, my owne hart trew, they best way that I can is that I to the greenwood goe,
36 my selfe a banished man.”
The Maid laments the shortness of her bliss.
But she’ll not part from her love.
4
2 “ Alas ! ” shee said, “ what is all this worlds blisse ? itt changeth as doth the Moone. the summers day in the Lusty may 40 is darke before the noone.
I heare yon say ffarwell. nay! nay !
wee will not depart soe soone. but why say you soe, or whither will you goe ?
44 alas ! what haue you done P
5
SQTJYRE.
1 It stondith so; a dede is* doo wherof gret harme shalle grow:
My destynye ys for to dye A shamfulle deth, I trow;
Or elks to flee : the on mvste be.
Non other way*I know,
But to withdraw as an owtlawe [leaf 211] And take me to my bow. wherfor, a-dewe, Myn own hart trew !
Non other rede I can: ffor I mvste to The gren-wode go, alon, a banysshed man.
6
PUELLA.
2 0 lorde ! what is this worlds blis, that changith as the mone ? the somers day In lusty may Is darke beffare the none.
I here you say, ffarewelle: nay, nay!
we departe not so sone. why say ye so ? whether wille ye go ?
alas ! what haue ye done ? alle my welfare To sorow & care shuld chau^ge, yf ye were gon ; ffor, in my mynde, of alle mankynd I love but you alon.
* MS. it.—F.THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
177
for all my welfare into sorrow & care
wold come if that yon were gone ;
for in my mind, of all mankind	She loves but
him alone.
48 I loue but yon alone. ”
5
1 “ I can but beleene tbis wold yon greene, Her lover
6	somewbatt yon
7
SQUYR.E.
11 can beleve, i tshalle you greve, and sumwhat you dystreyne ;a but, afterward, yowr paynes harde within a day or twayn shalle sone aslake ; & ye sballa take Conforte to you a-gayn. why shuld you owght? for, to take thowght,
yowr labowre were in vayn. and thus I doo; and pray you to, as hartely as I can ; ffor I mvste to the gren-wode go, alon, a banysshed man.
8
PUELLA.
Now, sith that ye haue shewed to me the secrete of yowr mynde,
I shalk be playn to you a-gayn, lyke as ye shalle me fynde. sith it is so, that ye wille go,
I wille not bide behynde, shalle it neuer be said, the nvtbrown mayd
was to here love vnkynde. make you Bedy, for so am I, alle-thowgh it were anon ; ffor, in [my] mynd, of alle mankynd I loue but you a-lon.
9
SQUYIÌE.
Yet I you Eede to take good hede what men will« thynke & say : of yong, of olde, hit shalle be told, that ye be gon a-wajr, yowr wanten wille for to fulfill«, in grenwode you to play; and that ye myght for yowr delite No lengar make delay, rather thaw ye shuld thus for me be called a mysse woman,
soe straine ;a
yet wold I to The grenwode go, alon, a banysshed man.
10
PUELLA.	[leaf 2115]
Thowgh it be songe of olde & yonge, that I shuld be to blame,
Thers be the charge, That speke so large In hurtyng of my name : ffor I wille prove, That feythfulle love hit is deuyoyed of shame ;
In yowr distresse and hevynesse,
To parte with you, the same : to shewe alle tho that do not so, trew lovers ar they non ; ffor, in my mynd, of alle mankynd I love but you alon.
11
SQUYRE.
I cownsaille you, Bemembre how, hit is no maydyns lawe,
No-thyng to dowte, but to renne owt to wode with an owtlawe. ffor ye mvste ther, In yowr hond bere a bowe Bedy to drawe,
&, as a theff, thus mvst ye leve,
Ever In drede & awe ; wherby to you G-ret harm myght grow : yet hade I lever than, that I [had] to The grenwod go, alon, a banysshed man.
• 12
PUELLA.
I say not nay, but as ye say, yt is no maydyns lore ; but love may make Me to for-sake, as I haue sayd beffore, to cum on fote, To hunte & shote to get us mete in store ; ffor so that I yowr company may haue, I aske no more :
YOL. III.
N178
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
of the hardships she’d have to undergo with him,
and says he’ll go alone to the greenwood.
She answers that as she’s shared his joy, she’ll share his woe.
a the thorn ye wayes, the cleepe valleys,
52 the haile, ffrost, snow, & raine ; ffor dry & weete, ffor cold & heate, wee must Lye on the plaine; no other house [be] vs abone,
56 but a bnsh or a brake twaine. my hart sweet, this ill dyett,
. I know itt will make thee to looke wan ; therfore will I to the greenwoode goe,
60 my selfe, a banished man.”
6
1 Shee sayes, “ w^th yon I hane been partener, w^'th yon in Ioy and blisse ;
I will take alsoe part of yo^r woe,
64 endnre, as reason itt is ;
ffrom which to parte, it makyth my harte as colde as any ston ; for, in my mynde, of alle ma^kynd I love hut yon alone.
soothe.
ffor an owtlawe This is the lawe, that men hym take and bynde, wMowt pite, hangid to be,
& waver with the wynde. yf I had nede, (as God for-bede!)
what socowrs cowld ye fynde ? fforsoth, I trow, ye and your bowe ffor fere wold draw behynde; and no mervayle : ffor littille avayle were in yowr cownselle than : wherfor I wille to the grenwod go, alon, a banysshed man.
14
PUELLA.
Bight welle know ye, that wymen be but feble for to fight ;
Bo womarchede it is in-dede to be bolde as a knyght : yet, in suche fere yf that ye were with ennemyes day or nyght,
I wold wMstond, with bow in honde,
To helpe you with my myght, [leaf 212] and you to save ; as wymen have from deth [men] many one :
for, in my mynd, of alle ma^kynd I love but you alon.
15
[SQ.OTEE.]
Yet take good hede ; for euer I drede that ye cowld not susteyn a the thorny wayes, the clepe valeyes, the snowe, the froste, the Rayn, the colde, the hete: for drye & wete we mvste logge on the playn;
&, vs above, none other Roffe but a brake, bushe, or twayn: which sone shuld greve you, I beleve ;
& ye wold gladly than that I had to the grenwode goo, a-lon, a banysshed man.
16
PUELLA.
1 Sith I haue here ben partynere with you yoye & blisse,
I mvste also parte of your woo Endure, as Reason is : yet am I sure of on pleasure;
&, shortly, it is this : that, wher ye be, me semeth, p«rde,
I cowld not fare a-mysse. witAowt more speche I you beseche that we were shortly gon ; for, in my mynd, of alle mankynd I love but you alon.THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
179
but 1 shold be sure of one pleasure,	At any rate
that is shortlye this,	see him,
wheresoeuer you be, that I you see,
68 I cold not ffare amisse.
from home to depart will make my hart as cold as any stone ; ffor in my mind, of all mankind 72 I loue but you alone.”	and she loves
him alone.
76
80
84
7
1 “ But you must consider, sweet hart, when you come thither and haue List to dine, there is no meate that wee can gett, neither ale, beere, nor wine, nor sheetes cleane to lye betweene,
made neither of threed nor twinn, [page 4213 Nor noe other house but leaues & brouse, to couer yo^r head and mine.2 my hart sweet, this ill dyett,
I know will make thee to Looke wan ; therfore will I to the greenwood goe my selfe, a banished man.”
“ But think,
we shall have no meat,
no sheets.
It’ll make you wan.
I’ll go to the woods by myself.”
8
3 “ But among wild deere,” shee said, “ such an “oh,you’ll
shoot deer
archer	for us;
as men say that you bee,
17
[SQTJYRE.]
1	Iff ye go thyder, ye mvst consider, whan ye have luste to dyne, ther shalle no mete be for to gete, if ether bere, ale, ne wyne; ne shetes clen, to lay betwen,
Made of threde and twyne; non other hows, bnt levis & bowes, to Cover joux hede & myne; loo, myn hart swete, this ilk dyett shuld make you pale and wan;
wherfor I wille to the grenwod go, a-lon, a banysshed man.
2	nine in MS.—E.
18
[PXJELLA.]
3	Amonge the wilde dere, suche an archeir, as men say that ye be, may not faylle of good vytaylle, wher is so gret plente:
& water clere of the Rivere shalle be fulle swete to me;
N 2180
THE NUTT UEOWNE MAYD,
I’ll drink water
and provide a bed,
for I love but you alone.”
you shold not ffaile ffor good yittaile 88 where is such great plentye ; the water cleere within the riner shold he full sweete to me ;
I cold endure well, I am sure,a 92 in health as you may see ;
& a bedd or 2, before I goe,
I will prouide anon ; ffor in my minde,1 abone all mankind 96 I lone but yon alone.”
“ Ah, but there’s worse to do.
You must cut your hair,
shorten your frock,
and start with me before daylight,
for I’m a banished man.”
9
2 “ Nay Lone, thore yon mnst doe more :
If yon will goe with mee, yon mnst shorten jour haire abone jour earé, 100	& jour kirtle 3 abone jour knee,
ffor to withstand, with bow in hand, jour enemyes, if neede bee ; ffor this same night, before it be day-light,
104 to the woods that I will fflee ;
& if yon will all this ffulfill, doe itt as shortlye as yon can, or else I mnst to the greenwood goe 108 my selfe, a banished man.”
■with which, in hele* I shalle Eight welle a Endure, as ye shalle see ; and, or we go, a bedde or two I can provide anon ; ffor, in my mynde, of alle mawkynd I love but you alone.
1	ninde in MS.—E,
19
SQUYBE.	[leaf 2126]
2	Loo yet, beffore, ye mvst do more, yf ye will« goo with me : as, cute your here vp by yowr ere, your kyrtyll by your knee ;
with bow in honde, for to wflAstonde your enymyes, yf nede be:
& this same nyght, beffore day-light, to wode-warde will« I flee, yff that ye will« all« this fulfill«, do it as shortly as ye can ;
Els will« I to the grenwode go, alone, a banysshed man.
3	Kyrtle is not upper petticoat, but our modern gown, a waist and petticoat. A kyrtle and mantle completed a woman’s dress. Crit. Rev. Jan. 1795, p. 49.— E.
* Health.—F,THE NUTT BítOWNE MAYD.
181
10
1 “ Euen now,” shee saies, 44 lie doe more ffor you then belongs to woman-hood2; lie shorten my haire, a bow to beare,
112 to shoote in time of neede.
my owne deare mother! aboue all other of you I haue much dread; but yett, adew ! I must insue;
116 a such ffortune does me lead.	*
therefore make you ready now as hast as euer you can; b ffor in my mind, of all mankind 120 I loue but you alone.”
« I’ll go with you at once.
Dear mother, adieu !
My love, make ready !
I love but you alone.’*
11
3 44 Noe, not soe, you shall not goe !
ffbr He tell you now as why : your habitt4 itt is to be light,
124 my loue, I will espye ;
for likwise as you say to me,
Likewise you shall fS.nd,c itt is told of old, 4 soone hott, soone cold, 128 and soe is a woman; ’
therfore will I to the greenwood goe my selfe, a banished man.”
“No, you shall not go.
Women change soon.
I’ll go to the
woods
alone.”
20
PUEIXA.
11 stalk? as now do more for you than longith to womanhede ; to short© myn here, a bowe to here, to shote in tyme of nede.
0	my swete moder, beffore alle oder for you I have moste drede : hut now, adewe ! I mvst ensue, a wher fortune doth me lede, alle this make ye : Now lat vs flee ;
the day co?raneth fast vpon ; b ffor, in my mynd, of alle mankynde
1	love but you a-lon..
2	heed wanted, to rhyme with neede. —Hyce.
21
SQUYRE.
3Nay, nay, not so ; ye sìmile not go,
& I shalle telle you whye, yoicr appetite is to be light of love, I welle espye : for, like as ye haue said to me,
In likewyse hardely 0 ye wolde answere who-so-euer it were, In way of Companye.
It is said of olde, Son whot, sone colde ;
& so is a woman. ffor I mvste to the grenwode goo, alone, a banysshed man.
4 appetite.—P.182
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
“ You shall have no cause to say that of me.
Haven’t I, a baron’s daughter, loved you, a poor squire ?
And I’ll die with you,
I love but you alone.”
12
“ Giff you take heed, you doe not need 132 soe ffarr to speake by mee;
ffor I haue prayed, & long I haue sayd, before I loued pardye ;
& [though] that you [know] of anceytrye a 136 a Barrons daughter I bee,
& you haue proued how [I] haue loued b a squier 2 of a Low degree,
& shall doe, whatsoeuer doth beffall,
140 to die with him anon ;
& in my mind, of all mankind I loue but you alone.”
“What! I, an outlaw, mate with a baron’s daughter!
God forbid 1
You’ll reproach me with having betrayed you.
Let me go alone.”
13
3 “ A Barrons child to be beguiled !
144 that were a cursed deede.
& to become ffellow with an outlaw !
alimightye god fforbidd! itt were better the pore Squier 148 himselfe to the fforrest yeede, then you shold say another day,
‘ by my accursed deede you were betraid.’ therefore, good maide, 152 the best way that I can,
is, lett me vnto the fforrest goe my selfe, a banished man.”
22
PUELLA.
1	yf ye take hede, it is no nede such wordzs to say to me; ffor ofte ye prayd, and long assayed,
Or I you loved, parde :	-
& thowgh that I of avncetrye a a barons dowghter be, yet haue ye proved how I ye loved,b a squyre of lowe degre ; and ever shallo, what-so befallo;
to dye therefor a-non; ffor, in my mynd, of alio ma^kynd
1	love but you a-lon.
2	The MS. has four strokes for ui.—F.
23
[squyre.]
3	A barons child to be begiled!
It were a cursed dede!
To be felowe with an owtlawe!
almyghty god forbede! yet better were, the pore squyer alon to foreste yede, than ye shuld say m-other day, that, by my cursed Rede, ye were betrayde : Wherefor, good mayd, the best Rede that I can, [ieaf 213] ys, that I to the grenwod go, alon, a banysshed man.THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
183
14
“ Let this ont-ffall, I nener shall 156 of that thing yon ypbraid ; but if yon goe & leane me soe, then I am qnite betraid. Remember how that itt is,a 160 yon are not as yon said:
yon are vnkind to leane behind jour lone, the nntt-browne maid, trnst me, trnlye I mnst dye 164 as soone as yon are gone ;
for in my mind, of all mankind I ione bnt yon alone.”
“ Whatever happens,
I’ll never upbraid you,
except you leave me.
[page 422]
I am your love, and must die if you go.
I love but you alone.”
15
2 “ Why, bnt if yon went, yon wold repent; 168 for in the fforrest now
“ But you’d repent if you did come ;
I hane pronided me of a maid whom I lone better then yon ;
& ifairer then ener yon were,
3 72 I dare this well anowe.
betw[i]xt yon both I shold be wroth b with eche other, as I trowe ; itt is my ease to line [in] peace ;
176 soe will I if I cann ;
ffbr I will to the greenwood goe my selfe, a banished man.”
for I’ve got theve a prettier maid, whom I love better than you:
I’ll go to the
woods
alone.”
24
[PUEIXA.]
What-ever befalle, I neuer slialle of this thyng you owt-brayde ;
But yf ye go, & leve me so, than haue ye me betrayde.
Remembre you welle, how that ye dele ; a för, yf ye be as ye said, ye were vnkynd, to leve me behynd, yowr love, tha Nutbrown mayde. Truste [me] truly, that I shalle dye sone after ye be gon ; ffor, in my mynd, of all mawkynd I love but you alon.
25
SQUYRE.
2 If that you went, ye shuld Repent;
for in the foreste nowe I have purveyde me of a mayde, whom I love more than you ; an-other more fayre, thaw euer ye were, I dare it welle avowe ; and of you both, Eche will« be wroth b with other, as I trowe.
It were myn eas to leve in peas ;
so wille I, yf I can ; wherefor I wille to the grenwod goo, alon, a banysshed man.184
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD,
“ Never mind, though you have a paramour,
I still am yours.
I’ll be soft and kind to her,
and be your second love, when you want one.
I love you alone.”
16
1 “ Why, tho in the wood I vnderstood 180 that yon had a paramoure,
yett all that right nought remoues my thought, for still I will be yours, shee shold me ffind both soft & kind,
184	& curteous euery houre ;
gladd your will for to ifulfill; a comand me to my power.
& if you haue a 100 more,
188 of them I wold be one ;
for in my mind, of all mankind I loue but you alone.”
“ Dear, true love !
Be glad,
believe not what I have said!
I am Lord Westmoreland’s son, and not
17
2 “ My owne deere loue ! I see and proue 192 that you be kind and true ! in maid & wiffe, in all my liffe the best that euer I knew!
Be merry & glad, be no more sa[d],
196 the case is altered now ;
b be not dismaid [at] what I haue said to you since I begann.
thus you haue woone the Erie of Westmoreland sone,c 200	& not a banished man.”
26
[mayd.]
1 Thowgh in the wode I vnderstode ye had a paramowre, alle this may nowght remeve my thowght, but that I wille be jouv:
& she shalle me fynd softe and kynd,
& Onrteys euery owre;
Grlad to fulfille alle that she wille,a Comaund me to my powere: ffor had ye, loo ! an hnndreth mo, yet wolde I be that on ; ffor, in my mynd, of alle mawkynd I love but you a-lon.
27
[SQUYRE.]
2 Myn own dere love ! I se thee prove that ye be kynde & trewe ; of may de & wyf, In alle my ly if, the best that ever I knew.
Be mery and glade ; be no more sade ;
The case is cha^nged new'e ; for it were Rewth, that for yoz^r trewth,b that ye shuld have cawse to Rewe. be not dysmayde, what-so-euer I said to you, whan I be-gan ;
I wille not to the grenwode go ; 0 I am no banysshed man.THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
185
]8
1 “These tydings to me are gladder,” shee saies, “ then tho I were a Qneene,
If I were sure itt wold endure ;
204 but itt is often seene
men will break promise [tho] thé speake words vpon the plaine, you shape some wyle, me to beguile,
208	& steale ffrom me, I weene ;
then were the case worsse then euer itt was,
& I were woe-begon ; for in my mind, of all mankinde 212 I loue but you alone.”
a banished man.”
«‘I’m gladder than if I were Queen.
But are not you beguiling me ?
If you leave me
I am lost;
for I love but you alone.”
19
2 “ You shall not neede soe ffar to dreed, ffor I will not disparishe 3 .[you, (Giod defend !) sith you descend 216 of so gret a linage ;]
for Westmoreland, as I vnderstand, itt is my owne heritage ;
I will thee bring in wrfch a ringe;
220 in way of Marryage
I will you take, and Ladye make, as shortlye as euer I cann.
“No, truly,
Westmoreland is mine.
I’ll wed you
as soon as I can.
28
MAYD.	[leaf 213&]
1 Thes tydyingis be more gladder to me, than to be made a queue, yf I were sure they shuld endure: but it is often seen,
whew mew wills breke prnnyse, they spoke
the wordis on the splene* ye shape som wyle me to begile,
& stele from me, I wene: than were the caas wors thaw it -was,
& I more woo-be-gon: ffor, In my mynd, of alle mawkynd I love but you alon.
29
SQUYKE.
2 Ye shalle not nede further to drede;
I wille not disparage f you, (god defende !) Sith ye descende of so gret a lynage.
Now vnderstond; to Westmorelond, which is myn herytage,
I wille you bryng; & wibti a rynge by way of maryage I wille you take, & lady make, as shortly as I can:
Than haue ye wonne an erles sonne, & not a banysshed man.
* On a sudden.—R. Bell.
t disparage. Arnolde.—F.186
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
I’m not a banished man.”
thus haue you woone the Erie of Westmorelands sonne,1 2
224 and not a banished man.”
So you see women are true.
Let nob men
reprove
them.
Men want their love ;
but I shall love G-od alone.
20
2 Heere you may see that women bee of loue meeke, kind, and stable, lett neuer men reproue them then, 228 nor call them vary able,8,
but rather pray to god that they to men may be comfortable, that haue proued such as they loued, 232	iff they be charitable.
but men wold that women shold be kind to them eche one, yett I had rather, god to obay,
236	& serue but him alone.3
ffinis.
1	sonme in MS.—F.
30
[author.]
2	Here may ye see, that women be In love, meke, kynd, & stable; latt never man Repreve them than, yf they be Charytable,a but 'Rather -pray god that we may to them be confortable;
God sumtyme proyith, such as he lovith, yf they be * chary table.
for sith men wold that women shuld be meke to them echone; moche more awght they to god obey, and serue but hym alon.
Explicit, qwod Richard Hille.
here endith the nutbrown mayd.
This last stanza is not in Prior’s Edition.—P.
3	Prom the concluding Words of this last stanza it should seem that the Author was a woman.—P.
* MS. be be.—F.187
€i)t t rose of tfnglanto: *	[page 423]
Thomas.	Come hither, fiddler ;
What ballads are you seen in best P Be short, Sir.
Fiddler. Under your mastership’s correction, I can sing “ The Duke of Norfolk,” or “ The merry ballad Of Diverus and Lazarus,” “ The Bose of England”
“ In Crete when Dedimus first began,”
“ Jonas his Crying-out against Coventry.”
Thom.	Excellent!
Rare matters all!
Fid. “ Maudlin the Merchant’s Daughter,”
“ The Devil and ye Dainty Dames.”
Thom.	Rare still!
Fid. “ The landing of the Spaniards at Bow,
With the bloody battle of Mile End.”
Thom. All excellent!
Monsieur Thomas, act iii. sc. 3.
This is one of the many pieces that compose the Bosworth Field and Stanley cycle. • It relates in an allegorical manner how the Earl of Richmond returned to claim his right, and how he claimed it. There is some little confusion in this as in most other allegories; for indeed, to speak the language of parables coherently and with consistence is a matter of no ordinary difficulty. Nor is,the allegorical treatment always maintained; the Rose suddenly becomes Earl Richmond. The piece is characterised by a certain vigour and earnestness. The writer gives himself up to his subject; he feels that that is great and grand. No doubt he was some Lancashire or Cheshire man, a vehement admirer of the Stanleys. Percy says that the song was written in “ Henry 8th’s lifetime.” From the last stanzas it would
1 An allegorical Song on the Landing bury, written in Henry 8*?’" lifetime.
& Victory of King Henry 7V1, with the N.B. This song is quoted in Beaum’.s brave Conduct of the Bailiff of Shrews- Mons. Thoa. p. 397.—P.188
THE HOSE OF ENGr LANDE.
seem to have been written earlier—we should suspect before the execution of Sir William Stanley in 1495. But the present copy is, we may be sure, much modernised.
Yv. 57-90.—This incident is told, with additions, in “ Dr. Taylor’s MS.” quoted apud Phillips’ History and Antiquity of Shrewsbury.
Thys yeare [runs the MS.] in the monthe of August 1485, Henry Earle of Bychemoonde came out of Bryttane towards England wyth a small companye & landyd at Mylford Haven in Wales nygh Pembrooke the 7th daye of August, having help Inoughe in England & so marchyng forward being stayed at no place untyll he came to the towne of Shrosberie, where the gates were shutt egainst by him, & the pullys let downe : so the Earle’s messengers came to the gate to say the Welsh gate, commandynge them to open the gates to theyre right Kynge, and Maister Myttoon made answere being head bayley, & a stoute royste gentilman sayinge that he knew no kynge, but only Kynge Bichard, whose lyffetenants he & hys fellows were ; & before he should enter there, he should goe ouer hys belly : meaninge thereby that he would be slayne to the grounde, and so to roon over hym before he entird, and that he protestyd vehementlye uppon the Othe he had tacken.
So the sayd Erie returnyd wyth hys companye backe agayne to a vylledge callyd Eorton, 8 Myles and a hälfe from Shrosberie, where he lay that night, & in the mornynge followynge there came Embassadors to speake with the Baylyff, requesting to passe quyetlye, and that the Erie theyre master dyd not meane to hurt the towne nor none therein, but to go to trye hys right, & that he promysed further that he would save his othe & hym & hys fellows harmless ; uppon thys they entered, and the sayd Mytton laye alonge the grounde, & hys belly uppwardes, & soe the sayd Erl stepped over him & saved hys othe; and so passing forthe & marching forwarde he came to Bosworth, whar the Battel was fought betwyxt hym & Kynge Bichard, in which Kynge Bichard was slayne.
The difficulty in which the poor mayor found himself placed was of course of no rare occurrence in a period when the occupancy of the throne was perpetually disturbed. It was of so common occurrence, that a statute was passed in the eleventhTHE ROSE OF ENGLANDE.
189
year of Henry the Seventh’s reign declaring that a subjects are bounden to serve their prince and sovereign lord for the time being in his wars for the defence of him and his land against every rebellion, power and might reared against him,” and proceeding to enact that no person for the same u true service of allegiance ” shall be “ convict or attaint of high treason nor of other offences for that cause.” The answer which the distressed official here makes is pretty much the same with that made by Herod under somewhat similar circumstances—made by him to Octavius after the fall of Antony, whose firm friend the Idumsean prince had been. (See Jos. Ant. xv. vi. 6 ; Bell. Jud. I. xx. 1.)
Vv. 107, 108.—Compare in Theocritus’ account of the combat between Amycus and Pollux (ed. Ahrens):
ep0a ttoXvs a'ipia’L ¡¿¿xQos ¿Treiyo/jL^poiaip ¿TnrSrepos koltcl vcora Aa&oi (j>aos 7]e\ioio • ihplrj fxeya S’ &p8pa TrapijhvOes, fi> UoXvdtvKes, j3d\\ero d5 aKTiv^acnv olttolv ’A¡xvkolo TrpSaorirov.
Throughout: a garden greene & gay,	in a gay
a seemlye sight itt was to see
how fflowers did flourish fresh and gay,	grew gay
° J	flowers.
4	& birds doe sing Melodiouslye
in the midst of a garden there spränge 1 a tree w/mih tree was of a mickle price,
& there vppon sprang the rose soe redd,
8 the goodlyest thai euer spränge on rise.2
and in the midst was arose sored, (Edward V.)
this rose was flaire, flresh to behold, springing wffh many a royall Lance; a . crowned King, wffh a crowne of gold 12 ouer England, IreLand, and of firance.
the King of England, Ireland, and France.
1 this garden sprang.—P.
bongh.—P.190
THE ROSE OF ENGLANDE.
A Boar
(Richard
III.)
came in and trampled it down,
then came in a beast men call a bore,1 & be rooted this garden ypp and downe,2 by the seede of the rose be sett noe store,
16 bnt afterwards itt wore the crowne.
and buried its branches.
bee tooke the branches of this rose away,3 and all in sunder did them teare ;
& be buryed them ynder a clodd of clay,
20 swore they sbold neuer 4 bloome nor beare.
But an Eagle
(Lord
Derby)
bore the branch to its nest at Latham.
then came in an Egle gleaming gay, of all ffaire birds well worth the best; be took the brancbe of the rose away,
24	& bore itt to Latham 5 to bis nest.
but now is this rose out of England exiled, this certaine truth I will not Laine 6 ; but if itt please you to sitt a while,
28 He tell you how the rose came in againe.
And the Rose (Henry
yn.)
came in again at Milford,
att Milford hauen he entered in 7;
to claime his right, was his delight; he brought the blew bore in w^fh him,
32 to encounter wtth the bore soe white.8
1	Cf. the stanza quoted in Mrs. Mark-
ham :
“ The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell the dog
Ruled all England under the Hog.”
This poem, written by Wm. Col-
lingborne, is quoted in Larwood’s His-
tory of Signboards, p. 116, where it says
Richard III.’s cognisance was a boar, passant, argent. Blue Boar = Earl of Oxford. See Hist. Signb., p. 116.— Skeat. The Earls of Oxford and Pembroke were two of the chief commanders in Henry VII.’s army. The deeds of the latter (Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, afterwards Duke of Bedford), and cf the famous Sir Wm. Brandon, the Standard
Bearer, do not appear to be commemorated in this poem.—Gr. E. Adams.
2	And there he rooted up and down. —P.
3	clean away.—P.
4	and .... ne’er.—P.
5	See “ Bosworth ffeilde,” 1. 347.—F.
6	conceal p
7	See “ Scotish ffeilde,” 1. 8, vol. i. p. 212 ; “Bosworth ffeilde,” 1. 50, below; “ Ladye Bessiye,” below, 1. 809.—E.
8	The blue boar was borne by the Earl of Oxford, who is named in line 71. Richard III.’s cognisance was a boar passant, argent.—Skeat.THE ROSE OF ENGrLANDE.
191
tlie[n] \ a messenger tlie rose did send	and sent to
to the Egles nest, & bidd him hye ;
“ to my ffather 2 the old Egle I doe [me] comend,3 ^ag^to 36 his aide and helpe I crane4 speedy lye.”	help him
saies, “ I desire my father att my 5 cominge of men and 6 mony att my need,
& alsoe my mother of her deer blessing,
40 then better then I hope to speede.”
with men and money.
& when the messenger came before7 thold Egle, The Rose’s
t	.	i-T	messenger
he kneeled him downe vpon his knee,	tells the old
Eagle.
saith, “ well greeteth yon my Lord the rose,
44 he hath sent yon greetings here by me.
“ safe ffrom the seas Christ hath him 8 sent, now he is entered England within.”
“ let vs thanke god,” the old Egle did say,	Hethanks
48	“ he shall be the fflower of all his kine !
“ wend away, messenger, with might and maine ;
itts hard to know who a man may trust;—
I hope the rose shall fflonrish againe,
52	& hane all things att his owne Inst.”
and wishes the Rose Ood speed.
then Sir Rice ap Thomas drawes wales with him : a worthy sight itt was to see,
how the welchmen rose wholy with him,	The Welsh-
men carry
56	& shogged9 him to Shrewsbnrye.	the Rose
Shrewsbury,
1	tlio, or then.—P.
2	send me the lone of the Lord
Stanley!
he marryed my mother, a Lady bright.
Bosworth ffeilde, 1. 59-60, below.—F.
3	we commend.—P.
4	his aid I must crave.—P.
5	I desire of my Father at my.—P.
6	Both men &. — P.
7	there.—P.
8	Apparently altered from “ mim ” in MS.—F.
9	moved. See vol. i. p. 218, note 5.— F.192
THE KOSE OF ENGLANDS.
where Master Mitton is bailiff.
Att that time was baylye in1 Sbrewsbnrye one Master Mitton2 in the towne. the gates were strong, & be mad tbem fast, 60	& tbe portcullis be lett downe;
Mitton declares no one shall enter,
& tbroug a garrett of tbe walls, ouer severne these words said bee,
“ att these gates no man enter shall.”
64	. but be kept him out a night & a day.3
but on
getting
orders
from Sir
William
Stanley,
these words Mitton did4 Erie Richmond tell;
I am sure the Chronicles of this will not Lye ; but when lettres came 5 from Srr ’William Stanley of the holt castle,
68 then the gates were opened presentlye.
lets in the Red Rose,
who stops Lord Oxford killing him.
then entred this towne the noble Lord the Erle Richmond, the 6 rose soe redd, the Erle of Oxford wAh a sword 72 wold haue smitt of the bailiffes head.
“ but hold jouy hand,” saies Erie Richmond,
“ ffor his loue thai dyed vpon a tree ! ffor if wee begin to head 7 so soone,	[page 424]
76 in England wee shall beare no degree.”
Richmond asks Mitton why he opposed him ?
“ Because Richard is my king.”
“ what offence haue I made thee, ” sayd Erie Richmonde,
“that thou Kept me out of my towneP ”
“ I know no King,” sayd Mitton then,
80	“ but Richard now that weares the crowne.”
1	of.—P.
2	Maister Mitton.—P.
3	be kept out by night or day.—P.
The man misses the whole point of the
story: the Mayor said, I have sworn that
no one shall enter this town except over
my body : on which Henry proposed that
he should lie down and let him step oyer him ; which he did.—Skeat.
4	he did.—P.
5	cane in MS'.—F.
6	that.—P.
■ 7 A.-S, hedfdian, to behead.—F.THE ROSE OF ENGrLANDE.
193
“why, what wilt thou say,” said Erie Richmonde, “ when I haue put King Richard downe ? ”
“ why, then lie be as true to you, my Lord,
84 after the time that I am sworne.”
“ But when I put Richard down ? ”
“ Why then I’ll be true to you,”
“were itt not great pitty,” sayd 1 Erie Richmond, “ that such a man as this shold dye P ” such Loyall service by him done,
88 the cronickles of this will not Lye.2
“ thou shalt not be harmed in any case.” he pardone[d] him presentlye. they stayd not past a night & a day,3 92 but towards newport4 did they hye.
So Mitton is pardoned,
but5 [at] Attherston these Lords did meete ; a worthy sight itt was to see,
how Erie Richmond tooke his hatt in his hand,	Cheshire and
Lancashire
96	& said, “ Cheshire & Lancashire, welcome to me.”
1	1	the Rose,
but now is a bird 6 of the Egle taken7 ; ffrom the white bore he cannot fflee.
but the young Eagle Is taken,
therfore the old Egle 8 makes great moane, 100	& prayes to god most certainly:
and the old one prays God
“ 0 stedfast god, verament,” he did say—
“ 3 persons in one god in Trinytye ! saue my sonne, the young Egle, this day	to save his
104 ffrom all ffalse craft & trecherye ! ”
1	the, or Richmond said. —P.
2	will not belye.—P.
3	In the wyle cop, Shrewsbury, is an
old house, lately a tinman’s shop (and,
perhaps, it is so still) where either
Henry VII. or Richard III. is said to
have lodged not long before the battle of
Rosworth.—Skeat.
4	Newport in Shropshire.—P.
5	Q,u. At, or perhaps about.—P.
G Lord Strange, the eldest son of Lord Stanley.—Gr. E. A.
7	tane.—P.
8	Lord Stanley, afterwards made Earl of Derby.—G-. E. A.
VOL. III.
0194
THE ROSE OF ER GLANDE.
The blue Boar (Lord Oxford) leads the van;
tlien the blew bore 1 the vanward bad : be was botb warry and wise of witt ; tlie right band of them be tooke,
108 the snnn à wind of them to gett.
the Eagle,
Talbot, Unicorn |
then the Egle followed fast vpon bis pray;
wttb 2 sore dints be did them smyte. the Talbott3 be bitt wonderons sore,
112 soe well the vnicorne 4 did him quite.
Hart’s head,
white-and-
red-jaelcefcs,
fight,
& then came in the harts bead 5 ;
a worthy sight itt was to see, they Iacketts that were of white & redd, 116 bow they Laid about them lustilye.
and win the day.
The white Boar (Richard III.) is slain.
but now is the ffeirce ffeeld fougbten & ended, & the white bore there Lyetb slaine ;
& the young Egle is presented,
120	& come to 6 bis nest againe.
The garden flourishes.
but now this garden flourishes ifreshly & gay, W'dh ffragrant fflowers comely of hew;
& gardners itt doth maintaine ;
124 I hope they will proue lust & true.
Our King is the Rose.
God love him!
our 'King, be is the rose soe redd,
that now does flourish ffresh and gay. Confound bis ffoes, Lord, wee beseecbe, 128	& loue bis grace botb night & day !
ffinis.
1	The-badge of John, Earl of Oxford. —G-. E. Adams.
2	And with.—P.
3	The Talbot was the badge of the
family of Talbot, Earls of Shrewsbury.
The person referred to is doubtless Sir
Gilbert Talbot of Grafton (uncle of the 4th Earl, then a minor), who commanded the right wing of Henry’s army.—G.E.A.
4	The unicorn’s head was the crest of Sir John Savage of Pock Savage, co. Chester, one of Henry’s principal commanders at Bosworth.—G. E. A.
5	Probably alluding to those in the arms of Sir Wm. Stanley (the brother to Lord Stanley), who had the rearguard.— G. E. A.
6	unto.—P.19-5
€i)t pore mart & tire Stinger
This is a Kent version of the ballad which Martin Parker issued as a Northumberland one in 1640, with the title “ The King and a poors Northerns Man, Shewing how a poore Northumberland man, a tenant to the King, being wronged by a Lawyer (his neighbour), went to the King himself to make knowne his grievances. Full of simple mirth and merry plaine jests.” The Percy Society reprinted this in 1841, Mr. Collier editing; and Mr. Hazlitt reprinted it in 1866 in his Early Popular Poetry, vol. iv. p. 290. The Folio ballad differs from Parker’s, not only in place, but in some of the incidents, and much in the wording. Its existence (coupled with that of the King & Northern Man, printed by W. 0[nley] noticed by Mr. Collier,) confirms the suggestion of that editor, which Mr. Hazlitt states thus : 66 The strict claim of Martin Parker to the original authorship of this production may be open to question. Perhaps he merely modernized what he found already in print, but too antique to please the delicate palates of the customers for such articles in his day, and upon the strength of this attached his initials, which, as will be seen, occur at the conclusion of the tract.” The second edition of it was in 1673, black letter, eleven leaves; and there is a copy of it in the British Museum. (Hazlitt.)
Lawyers have always been reckoned poor men’s foes. And the reason is not far to seek. As a gamekeeper said to a solicitor I know, who had grumbled at the dogs out shooting, and then got regularly hooked up by some brambles, “We call them ’ere lawyers down here, we do. When they once gets hold of ’ee, they don’t let ’ee go without takin’ a bit out of ’ee.” The
o 2196
THE PORE MAN AND TIIE HINGE.
profession has not the credit of working at law for nothing, whatever it may do at Early English, &c. &c. Langland says in his Vision (p. 5, 1. 849, Vernon Text, ed. Skeat):
j?er hone]? an Hundret • in Houues of selk,
Seriauns hit seme)? • to seruen atte Barre;
Pleden for pons • and poumdes \>q lawe,
Not for lone of vr lord ■ vn-loseb heore lippes ones, how mihtest beter metew \>e Myst * on Malnerne hulles, ben geten a Mom of heore Moub * til moneye weore schewed.
The rebels under Wat Tyler “ killed such judges and lawyers as fell into their hands” (Macfarlane, iv. 183); and the Scotch proverbs—“ Law licks up a’,” “ Nae plea is the best plea,” 66 Law’s costly; tak a pint and gree,” &c. (Hislop, p. 308)—bear witness to the general modern feeling on the subject.
The punishment of a rapacious lawyer has always been a popular theme, and the present ballad tells how a poor man who dwelled in Kent paid out the lawyer who tried to fleece him. He went to his king—the popular remedy for men alone, as ballads and stories show; the popular remedy for crowds, as Wat Tyler’s rebellion shows—and begged to be let off the forfeiture of his lease that his felling five of his landlord’s, the king’s, ash trees to build his house with had worked, and of which forfeiture the lawyer wanted to take advantage. Needless to say that the king forgives his Kentish man,—a worthy descendant of those who stood up against William the Conqueror for their rights,— and, to punish the lawyer in a way that all may understand, bids the poor man,
untill hee haue paid thee a 10 0!A
thoust tye him to a tree that hee cannott start.
This the poor man threatens to do; but the lawyer pays down his money, and the ballad concludes:
G-od send' all Lawyers thus well served ! then may pore ffarmers liue in rest.
The poem also gives rise to another set of scenes like those weTHE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE.
197
have seen in the Kinge and Miller and John de Reeve, on the countryman’s coining to court. To those who “coude their curtesye,” and were full of the flunkeyisli respect of persons that characterises courtiers, it must have been a joke to see a proud porter rapped on the crown by the country clown, a nobleman offered fourpence for an introduction to the king, and the dread incarnation of majesty himself told that he was a very poorlooking fellow for a sovereign, and his grand feast only—-
.	.	. twatling dishes soe small:
7	zounds ! a blacke pudding is better then all!
(vol. i. p. 156.)
On the general subject Mr. Hales’s Introduction to the King and Miller, vol. i. pp. 147-8, should be consulted.—F.
Itt : was a pore man, he dwelled in Kent,
he payd onr King 5^ of rent ;
A poor man holds land of the King.
& there is a lawyer dwelt him by,
4 a ffanlt in his [lease,1] god wott ! he hath ffound, “ & all was for flailing of 5 ashe trees
to build me a house of my owne good ground.
A lawyer says he has forfeited his lease by cutting five ash trees.
“ I bidd him lett me & my ground alone 2;	He offers the
8 to cease his selfe, if he was willinge,
& pike no vantages out of his 3 lease ;
& hee seemed a good ffellow, I wold giue him 40®4”
[“ 40® nor 401.1
12 wold not agree this lawer and mee,
without I wold giue him of my farme ground, & stand to his good curtesye.5]
The lawyer demands some of his land.
1 lease.—P. See line 9.—F.	3 my.—F.
'l MS. alome. him is hem with the e 4 Read 40 shillinge.—Skeat.
clotted.—F.	.5 These are lines 147-50 below.—F.198
THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGrE.
He then offers 5 marks
“lie 1 said, “ nay, by bis fay, that hee wold not doe,
16 ffor wiffe and children wold make madd warke, but & be wold lett bim and bis ground alone,
be seemed a good ffellow,be wold giue bim 5 marke.” 2
but the lawyer refuses that too.
So the poor man resolves to go to the King.
“ be said, “nay by bis ffay, that wold be not doe, 20 ffor 5 good asb trees that be ffell.”
“ tben lie doe as neighbors haue put me in bead, lie make a submission to the King my-selfe.”
by [that] be bad gone a dayes iourney,
24 one of bis neighbors be did spye,
“ bTeibor ! bow ffar baue I to our King ?	[page 425]
I am going towards bim as ffast as I can bye.”
“alas ! to-day,” said bis neighbour,
28 itts ffor you I make all this mone. you may talke of that time enougbe
by that tenn daies Iourney you baue gone.”
He gets to London,
oversleeps
himself,
but when be came to London street,
32 for an host bouse be did call.
be Lay soe longe ofche totber morninge a-sleepe, that tbe court was remoued to winsor bail.
and is told he muist go on to Windsor ;
“ arrise, my guest, you baue great neede ;
36 you haue Lyen too long euen by a great while ; tbe court is Remoued to winsor this morning ; bee is ffurther to seeke by 20 mile.
“ alacke to-day ! ” qwotb tbe poore man, 40 “I tbinke jour 'King att me gott witt; bad be knowen of my cominge,
I tbinke he wold baue tarryed yett.”
1 The poor man speaks of himself in miscopied for the I of line 154.—F.
the third person; or else he and hee are 2 MS. narke.—F.THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGrE.
199
“ he ffoled not for yon,” then said his host,
44	“ but hye yon to Windsor as fast as yon may ;
& all jour costs & jour charges,
hane yon no donbt bnt the King will pay.”
he hath gotten a gray rnssett gowne on his backe,
48	& a hood well bnckeled vnder his chin,
& a longe staffe vpon his necke,
& he is to Windsor to onr Kinge.
soe when hee came to Windsor hall,
52 the gates were shntt as he there stood;
he knocket and poled with a great Long staffe : the porter had thonght hee had beene woode.
he knocket againe with might & maine,
56 sais, “ hey hoe ! is onr King within P ” wdh that he proffered a great reward, a single penny, to lett him come in.
“ I thanke yon, S^‘r,” quoth the porter then,
60	“ the reward is soe great I cannott say nay;
there is a noble-man standing by,
ffirst lie goe heare what hee will say.”
the nobleman then came to the gates,
64	& asked him what his bnsines might bee:
“ nay, soft,” quoth the ffellow, “ I tell thee not yett, before I doe the King himselfe see;
itt was told me ere I came ffrom home,
68 that gentlemens honnds eaten arrands by the way, & pore cnrr doggs may eate mine 1 ;
therfore I meane my owne arrands 2 to say.”
“ bnt & thon come in,” saies the Porter then,
72	“ thy bnmble staffe behind wee mnst stay.”
the King will pay his expenses.
So he goes to
Windsor
Hall,
knocks at the gates,
and offers the porter a penny to let him in.
The porter
fetches a nobleman,
who asks the man what his business is.
“ I'll tell the King myself.
Messengers
often
swallow
their
errands.”
“ Leave your staff, then.”
1 MS. nine.—F.
2 MS. arrand, with a tag to the d.—F.200
THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE.
“No, I shan’t ;
the court bankrupts may rob me.”
The poor man is led to a nobleman,
whom he first takes for the King,
and then offers 4d. to bring him to the King.
The nobleman says he’ll ask the King ;
does so ;
“ beshrow the, Lyar,” then said the pore man,
“ then may thon terme me a foole, or a worsse;
I know not what bankronts bee about our Kmy,
76 for laeke of mony wold take my pursse.”
“ hold him backe,” then said the noble-man,
“ & more of his speech wee will haue soone; lie see how hee can answer the matter 80 as soone as the match att bowles is done.”
the porter tooke the pore man by the hand,
& ledd him before the noble-man : he kneeled downe vpon his knees,
84	& these words to him sayd then:
“ & you be S¿r Emg” then said the pore man,
“ you are the goodlyest ffellow that euer I see ; you haue soe many I[i]ngles Iangles about yee,
88 I neuer see man weare but yee.”
“I am not the King” the Nobleman said,
“ although I weare now a proud cote.”
“ & you be not Kmg, & youle bring me to him,
92 ffbr yo^r reward lie giue you a groat.”
“I thanke you, S¿r,” saith the Noble-man,
“ jour reward is soe great, I cannott say nay;
He ffirst goe know our Kmgs pleasure;
96 till I come againe, be sure that you stay.”
“ here is such a staring,” said the pore man,
“ I thinke the King is better heere then in our countrye;
I cold haue gone to ffarmost nooke in the house,
100	Neither Ladd nor man to haue troubled mee. ’ ’ [page 426]
the noble-man went before our Kinge, soe well hee knew his curtesye,
“ there is one of the rankest clownes att joiir gates 104 that euer Englishman did see.THE PORE MAN AND THE HINGE.
201
“ he calles them knaues jour hignes keepe, with-all hee calls them somewhatt worsse, he dare not come in without a longe staffe,
108	hees heard lest some bankrout shold pike his pnrsse. ’ ’
“ lett him come in,” then said our King,
“ lett him come in, and his staffe too ; weele see how he can answer euery matter 112 now the match att bowles is done.1 ”
the Noble-man tooke the pore man by the hand,
& led him through chambers and galleryes hye :
. “ what does our King with soe many empty houses, 116	• & garres them not ffilled with corne and hay ? ”
& as they went through one alley,
the nobleman soone the King did spye;
“ yond is the King,9 9 the noble-man sayd,
120 “looke thee, good ffellow, yond hee goes by ! ”
“belike hee is some ynthrifft,” said the pore man,
“ & he hath made some of his clothes away.”
“ now hold thy tounge,” said the Nobleman,
124	“ & take good heed what thou dost say.”
the weather itt was exceeding hott,
& our King hath Laid some of his clothes away;
& when the noble-man came before our King,
128 soe well hee knew his curtesie, the pore man ffollowed after him,
gaue a nodd with his head, & a becke with his knee :
“ & if you be the king,” then said the pore man,
132	“ as I can hardly thinke you bee,
this goodly ffellow that brought me hither, seemes liker to be a King then yee.”
and the King
answers “ let him come in.”
The poor man
asks why the King doesn’t fill his empty rooms with corn and hay,
and on being shown the King, won’t
believe it is he,
and tells him the nobleman looks more like a king than he does.
doo.—Dyce.202
THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGrE»
But the ■ King says he is king,
and the poor man tells him how the lawyer,
because he has cut down 5 ash trees,
wants to make him forfeit his lease,
unless he’ll give up some of his land.
“ Have you your lease?” says the King.
“ Here it is if you can read it.”
“ What if I can’t ? ”
“ My boy of 13 can.”
“ I am the Kmg, & the "King indeede ;
136 lett me thy matter vnderstand.”
then the pore man ffell downe on his knees :
“ I am jouy tennant on jouy owne good Land,
“ & there is a Lawyer dwells me by,
140 a ffault in my lease, god wott, hee hath found,
& all is for Selling of 5 ashe trees
to build me a house in my owne good ground.
“ I bade him lett me & my ground alone,
144	& cease himselfe, if that hee was willing,
& pike no wantage out of my Lease ;
he seemed a good ffellow, I wold giue him 40®*
“ 40® nor 401}
148 wold not agree this lawer and mee,1
without I wold giue him of my farme ground,
& stand to his good curtesye.
“ I said, 4 nay, by fay, that wold I not doe ;
152 ffor wiffe & children wold make madd warke ;
& hee wold lett me & my ground alone,
he seemed a good ffellow, I wold giue him 5 marke.’
“ but hast thou thy Lease eene thee vppon,
156 or canst thou shew to mee thy deede p ” he pulled itt fforth of his bosome,
& saies, “ heere my Leege, if you cann reeade.”
u what if I cannott ? ” then sayes our IZing,
160	“ good ffellow, to mee what hast thou to say ? ”
“ I haue a boy att home, but 13 yeere old,
will reede itt as ffale gast as young by the way.”
1 Lines 147 and 148 are written as one in the MS.—L.THE POKE MAN AND THE KINGE.
203
441 can neuer gett these knotts Loose,” then said onr 'King ;
164 hee gane itt a gentleman stood him hard by.
44 thats a proud horsse,” then said the pore man,
44 that will not carry his owne prouentye;
44 & yee paid me 5® rent as I doe yee,
168 I wold not be to proud to loose a knott; but giuet me againe, & lie loose itt for ye, soe that in my rent youle bate mee a groate.”
“ I can’t read it,” says the King.
“ More shame to you,” says the poor man ;
“ I’ll read it for you if you’ll let me off 4ch rent1”
an1 old man tooke this Lease in his hande,
172	& the Kings maiesty stoode soe,
44 lie warrant thee, pore man, & thy ground, if2 thou had ffallen 5 ashes more.3 ”
44 Alas to-day ! ” then said the pore man,
176	44 now hold your tonge,4 & trouble not mee *,
hee that troubles me this day with this matter, Cares neither for your warrantts, you, nor mee.”
The King tells him he’ll warrant him his ground.
“ Warrant I the lawyer don’t care for you or your warrants.”
180
44 lie make thee attachment, ffoole,” hee sayes, [page 427] 44 that all that sees itt shall take thy purt. yntill hee haue paid thee a 100li
thoust tye him to a tree that hee cannott start.”
“ Well then,” says the King,
“ tie the lawyer up to a tree till he pays you 100Z.”
441 thanke you, Sir,” said the poreman then:
184	44 about this Matter, sith you haue beene willing©,
& seemed to doe the best you cann,
with all my heart He giue you a shillinge.”
“ Thank you, that’ll do,
and I’ll give you Is.”
44 a plauge on thy knaues hart! ” then said our King,
188	44 this mony on my skin 5 Lyes soe cold.”
he fflang itt into the Kings Bossome,	which he
because in his hand he wold itt not hold.	the Kingi'
bosom.
1 the.—F.	4 Another letter blotched with e follows
2 i.e. even if.—Skeat.	in the MS.—F.
3 moe.—Dyee.	5 MS. skim.—F.204
THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE.
The King gives him 1002.
When the poor man comes home, the lawyer asks him where he has been.
“ To the King,
who’s told me to tie you up till you pay me 1002.”
The lawyer pays the money.
May God serve all lawyers so,
and let us live in peace
the Kmg called his tresurer,
192 saies “ count me downe a 10011—
since he hath spent mony by the way,—
to bring him home to his owne good ground.”
when the lOO1.1 was counted,
196 to reeeiue itt the pore man was willing :
“ if I had thought you had had soe much siluer & gold,
you shold not haue had my good shilling.”
the Lawyer came to welcome him 200 when hee came home vppon a Sunday :
“ where haue you beene, Meihbor P ” hee sayes,
“ methinkes you haue beene long away.”
“ I haue beene att the King” the poore man said.
204	“ & what the deuill didest thou doe there P
cold not our neihbors haue agreede ys,
but thou must goe soe ffarr ffrom heere ? ”
“there cold no neighbors haue agreed thee & me,
208 nor halfe soe well haue pleased my hart; vntill thou haue payd mee a 10015,
lie tye thee to a tree, thou cannott start.”
when the 100^ was counted,
212 to reeeiue itt the poreman was most willing ;
& for the paines in the Law hee had taken, hee wold not giue him againe one shilling.”
god send all Lawyers thus well serued !
216 then 1 may pore ffarmers liue in rest.2 god blesse & saue our noble Kinge,
& send ys all to liue in peace !	ffillis.
1 MS. them.—F.
ease.—Dyce.20o
&ir t £ofm Sutler;
In a “ Booke of Survey of the Baronye of Warinton in the countie of Lancaster, Parcell of the possessions of the Bight Honorable Bobert Erie of Leicester, baron of Denbigh,” as taken on the 19th of April in the twenty-ninth year of “our Soverein Queen Ladye Elizabeth ” (1587) we find the following description of Bewsey Hall:
The Mannerhowse of Bewsey is situate on the west side of the Town and Lordship of Warrington, and is a mile distant from Warrington Town, and is the South East side of Bewsey Park. The house is environed with a fair mote, over which is a strong drawbridge. The house is large, but the one half of it being of very old building, is gone to decay, that is to say, the Hall, the Old Buttery, the Pantry, Cellars, Kitchen, Dayhouse and Brewhouse, which can not be sufficiently repaired again without the charge of 100Z. The other half is of new building and not decayed, being one great chamber, four other chambers or buildings, a kitchen, a buttery, and also three chambers and a parlour of the old building are in good repair. There is also an old chapel, but much decayed. The seat of the manorhouse with the garden and all the rest of the grounds within the mote containeth 8 roods 20 perches. . . .
The park is three measured miles about; almost the one half of it is full of little tall oaks, but not underwood. It is indifferent well paled about. There is in it little above six score deer of all sorts; the soil of the park is very barren.
The park and demesne lands together contained 304 acres large measure = 644 statute.
The family of Botyller, Boteler, and many other variations of spelling, becoming Butler in the reign of Henry VII., was seated at Warrington in the time of Henry III. A William Butler was then in ward to Earl Ferrars, and sometime about 1240206
SIR IOHN BUTLER.
bought the manor of Burtonwood from Bobert de Ferrariis.1 Here he built Bewsey Hall, and thereafter took the style of Butler of Bewsey instead of Butler of Warrington.
It is not intended to go into the family history of the Butlers* As lords of various manors held in capite, they had to lead their retainers in the Welsh and Scotch wars; and Froissart has a characteristic narrative of the rescue of John Butler of Bewsey by Sir Walter Manny in the French campaign in 1342.2 This seems to have been the prosperous.time of the family. A priory of Hermit Friars of St. Augustin in Warrington was probably founded by them towards the close of the thirteenth century. The chancel of the parish church dates about 1360. Sir John Butler rebuilt Warrington Bridge, which had been washed away by floods, 1364. He seems also to have founded the Butler Chantry in the church.3 His grandson, another Sir John, died about 1432, leaving a son a year old, and a widow Isabella, whose petition to Parliament may be seen in the Botuli Parlia-mentorum.4
Seven years after her husband’s death she was forcibly carried away from Bewsey Hall by one William Poole, gent, of Liverpool, “ in her kirtle and smok ” to Birkenhead—another petition says the wild parts of Wales—and there compelled to enter into a forced marriage. What the end of it was we are not told, but her son John grew up and married, first Anne Savile, and secondly Margaret Stanley, sister of the first Lord Stanley, and widow of Sir Thomas Troutbeck. Here we come into much entanglement. Some accounts make Lady Margaret the wife of Troutbeck after her marriage with Lord Grey. Sir John Butler had two sons —William by Anne Savile, and Thomas by Margaret Stanley. William died about the time of his coming of age, and Thomas finally succeeded as heir in the year 1482. Sir John died in 1462, and he seems to have been the hero of the ballad, of the
1	G-ent. Mag. Dec. 1863, p. 755.	3 Lancashire Chantries. (Cheth. Sec.),
2	Froissart, yol. ii. p. 9, cap. 86.	p. 67.	4 Rot. Pari. iv. 497-8.SIR IOHN BUTLER.
207
traditions of the neighbourhood, and of the narrative of Dods-worth.
The Old Church, as it is always called by the inhabitants, the High Church of Warrington as named in the ancient charters, seems even then to have lost the name of the saint to whom it was dedicated—St. Elphin—in Domesday Book. It has been rebuilt within the last few years, and consisted then (1860) of a nave, north and south transepts (private chapels), chancel and central tower. The chancel and tower arches were good decorated work of about 1360. The north transept was the chapel connected with Bewsey Hall, and had the name of the owners—the Athertons. In the sixteenth century it was the Butler Chapel or Chantry. It contained in the centre a magnificent altar tomb, apparently of the time of Edward IV., which still exists.1 The lord and lady are recumbent, life-size, he in armour, and the sides of the tomb are ornamented with statuettes in relief of various saints, but there is no inscription, nor any appearance of there ever having been one. In an arch in the north wall of the chapel was a monument, in black marble, of a recumbent female; and to the east of this, in the position usually ascribed to the founder, was a cinquefoiled arch which held a stone coffin, the contents of which had disappeared before the chapel was pulled down. This chapel, except the cinquefoiled arch, was of late perpendicular work, and most likely built by the widow of Sir Thomas Butler 1520-30. The name of the Butlers had vanished from their resting place, but the memory of the lord and lady and their unfortunate end was handed down from generation to generation in connection with this monument, no doubt receiving additions or suffering mutilation according to circumstances.
The tale, as generally told, was that certain of the lord’s enemies bribed his steward, and that the faithless servant placed
1 The whole of the chapel has been preserved: the only part of the old pile pulled down, hut the tombs have been left is the chancel.208
SIE 10TIN BUTLEE.
a light- at a window over the hall door, to give notice to the assassins, who crossed the mote and found the door open. They made their way to the lord's chamber, and were met and opposed by a negro servant, who fell in defence of his master, whose murder soon followed. The heir, a baby, was carried by the nurse in her apron, covered with chips, out of the house, under the pretence that she was going to light a fire. Two large dark patches on the oaken floors, one in a narrow passage leading to the lord’s room, the other within the room, near the door, were left as evidence to all following time, and it was said that every room on that floor, the second, wras more or less stained with blood.
A new servant had always to get accustomed to the visits of an apparition, a rattling of chains along the narrow lobby, and three raps at the bedroom door at midnight, till use made the thing pass as a matter of course. The traitor steward was promised great exaltation, and they hanged him on an oak as they came away through the park. A tree pointed out as the m-felix arbor was cut down some forty years ago.1
Such was the tale sixty years ago. It had, perhaps, been modified by being introduced as an episode in a poem published with Dodsworth’s account in 1796, the first effort of the author of the interminable epic Alfred—Mr, John Fitchett. Pennant, who travelled after the middle of last century, heard that both the lord and lady were slain; and a century before that, Roger Dodsworth had taken the pains to put in writing what he had heard, and his narrative is still in the Bodleian Library.
Dodsworth’s account is as follows:—When King Henry VIL came to Latham, the Earl of Derby sent to Sir John Butler, who was his brother-in-law, to desire him to wear his cloth for a
1 This tree was certainly not so old as made its appearance when trouble or the time of Elizabeth. As an attendant	change was impending ; it is said to
spirit (on the domain however, more than have been seen within the present cénits lords) was a white rabbit, which tury.SIR JOHN BUTLER.
209
time—a request which, the Lady Butler answered with great disdain. This gave rise to great malice on the part of the Earl, which was increased by various other matters, till, with the assistance of Sir Piers Legh and William Savage, they corrupted his servants and murdered him in his bed. His lady, who was in London, dreamed that night that Bewsey Hall swam with blood. She indicted twenty men for the murder; but after marrying Lord Grey, he made her suit void. Upon which she left him and came back into Lancashire, and said, 6 If my lord will not help me, that I may have my will of mine enemies, yet my body shall be buried, by him,’ and caused a tomb of alabaster to be made, where she lyeth upon the right hand of her husband Sir John Butler. The faithful servant was the chamberlain named Holer oft, and the traitor was his brother; the porter at the hall, whom the assassins hanged in the park.
Dodsworth’s tale, no doubt, represents the tradition as it existed in the middle of the seventeenth century, but it is altogether at variance with facts. During the whole of the reign of Henry VII. the lord of Bewsey was Sir Thomas Butler, who succeeded (as already stated) to the estate in 1482, and died in 1522. He certainly went quietly to his rest, after providing amply for the foundation of a grammar school in Warrington. His father, Sir John, according to the Inquisitio Post Mortem still extant in the Bodleian Library, died in 1463, leaving besides Thomas, who succeeded, a brother William, ten or twelve years older. They were wards to the king, and the younger one is said to have been of the Stanley blood; in fact, there are documents still in existence showing the interest Lord Stanley and his son Lord Strange took in the latter just before the battle of Bosworth Field.1 But not a tittle of evidence has turned up to show that there was any murder at all. The record of the outrage on the previous Lady Butler is given in the Rotuli Parliamentorum,
1 Gent. Mag. Sej.!, 1C 63.
VOL. III.
P210
SIR IOHN BUTLER.
but every thing connected with the murder of the last Sir John seems to have vanished like Macbeth’s witches. There had certainly been bad blood between the Leghs and Butlers for some generations, which continued for two or three generations after; and this Sir Piers Legh of the tale is said to have been compelled to build a church at Dishley, near Lyme, to expiate the guilt he had incurred in the bloodshed. His monumental brass, where he is represented as wearing a priest’s robes over his armour, is still to be seen in Win wick Church; and as he died in 1527, aged 65, he could only have been an infant at the date of Butler’s death. It seems out of the question to connect Lord Stanley, Butler’s brother-in-law, with it; and nothing is known about William Savage. As to the blood-marks, that portion of Bewsey Hall is not older than the sixteenth century, and was most likely the part described in the “ Surveye ” as having been then newly built, so that we meet only with phantom evidence, which we can neither grasp nor realise.
Whether the Lord Grey was of Codnor, of Groby, or de Ferrariis is uncertain; and it is doubtful whether Lady Margaret Butler was the widow of Troutbeck when she married Sir John, or whether, as another account states, she married Troutbeck for her third husband.
We believe no other copy of this ballad is known. It is in a fragmentary state, and no doubt a good deal of it is wanting; the language too has been modernised ; but the peculiar account of Lady Butler’s absence from home, and “ her good brother John,” clearly the first Stanley of Alderley, would lead to the supposition that it was written soon after the murder, by one who was acquainted with the family, and before Lord Stanley was made Earl of Derby. The introduction of Ellen Butler as Sir John’s daughter, may have been a mistake, or put, eujphonice gratia, for the real name Alice, who would have been fourteen or fifteen at the time. Sir John is represented as nephew to Stanley, which must have been incorrect; it may, however, be from theSIR IOHN BUTLER.
211
ballad-maker’s confusion of ideas, as Lady Butler afterwards calls
Stanley her brother. The end of the Butlers was sad enough, but we have no space for it here. Descendants in the female line are still in existence, and a keen genealogist might trace them to our own time; but their place knows them no more, the very name is forgotten, and when the fine altar tomb was opened some years ago, a very few mouldering bones and the fragment of a heavy two-handed sword were all that it contained.		
	The knight was dust, His good sword rust, His soul is with the saints we trust.	(J. Robson.)
4	BlJT word is come to warrington, & Busye hall is laid about; Sir Iohn Butler and his merry men stand in ffull great doubt.	Busye Hall is surrounded, and Sir J. Butler in danger.
8	when they came to Busye hall itt was the merke 1 midnight, and all the bridges were vp drawen, and neuer a candle Light.	A.t midnight his takers come;
12	there they made them one good boate, all of one good Bull skinn; Willmm Sauage was one of the ifirst that euer came itt within.	on a bull-skin boat
16	kee sayled ore his merrymen by 2 and 2 together, & said itt was as good a bote as ere was made of lether.	cross over the moat.
1 merke, dark ; MS. may be merle.—F.212
SIR IOHN BUTLER.
Ellen Butler rouses her father.
His uncle Stanley is there.
No money will save him.
Ellen comes down to the hall.
“ Where is your father? ”
“ Gone to London,
I swear/’
“ No, he is not;
we must have him.”
They search,
find him,
1	MS. them.-
2	These two
“ waken yon, waken yon, deare ffatker !
god waken yon within! for lie ere is jour vnckle standlye 20 come jour kail within.”
“ if that be trne, Ellen Bntler, tkese tydings yon tell mee, a 100 V in good redd gold 24 this nigkt will not borrow mee.’’
then1 came downe Ellen Bntler & into ker ffatkers kail,
& tken came downe Ellen Bntler,
28	& skee was laced in pall.
“ wkere is tky ffatker, Ellen Bntler ?
kane done, and tell itt mee.”
“ my ffatker is now to London ridden,
32 as Okrist skall kane ipart of mee.”
“ Now nay, Now nay, Ellen Bntler,
ffor soe itt mnst not bee ;	[page 428]
ffor ere I goe ffortk of tkis kail,
36 yo^r ffatker I mnst see.”
tke songkt that kali tken vp and downe 2 tkeras Iokn Bntler Lay 2 ; tke songkt that kail tken vp and downe 40 tkeras Iokn Bntler Lay;
ffaire kim ffall, ktle Holcrofft!
soe Merrilye ke kept tke dore, till that kis kead ffrom his skonlders 44 came tnmbling downe tke ffloore.
-F.	in the MS., but they are marked with a
ines only of the four are bracket and bis,—F.SIR IOHN BUTLER.
213
“ yeeld thee, yeelde thee, lohn Butler !
yeelde thee now to mee ! ”
“ I will yeelde me to my vnckle Stanlye,
48	& neere to ffalse Peeter Lee.”
“ a preist, a preist,” saies Ellen Butler,
“ to housle and to shriue ! a preist, a preist,” sais Ellen Butler,
62	“ while that my father is a man äliue ! ”
then bespake him willmm Sauage,— a shames death may hee dye !— sayes, “ he shall haue no other preist 56 but my bright sword and mee.”
the Ladye Butler is to London rydden, shee had better haue beene att home, shee might haue beggd her owne marryed Lord 60 att her good Brother lohn.
& as shee lay in leeue London,
& as shee lay in her bedd, shee dreamed her owne marryed Jjord 64 was swiminnge in blood soe red.
shee called yp her merry men all long ere itt was day, saies, ‘£ wee must ryde to Busye hall 68 w^th all speed that wee may.”
shee mett w^th 3 Kendall men were ryding by the way:
“ tydings, tydings, Kendall men,
I pray you tell itt mee ! ”
and summon him to yield.
“A priest to shrive my father,” says Ellen.
“ No priest but my sword,” says Savage.
Lady Butler is in London.
She dreams that her lord swims in blood,
calls up her men
and rides homeward.
She meets Kendal men,
and a.-iks tidings.
72214
SIR IOHN BUTLER.
“ John Butler is slain.”
She turns back to London,
and prays the King
to kill her lord’s three slayers.
“ What ! 3 for 1 ?
No. Do you marry Lord Gray.”
“ beauy tydings, deare Madam !
ffrom you wee will not Leane,1 tlie wortbyest 'K.nigJii in merry England,
76 Iolm Bntler, Lord ! Lee is slaine ! ”
“ ffarewell, ffarwell, Iobn Bntler !
ffbr tbee I mnst neuer see. ffarewell, ffarwell, Busiye Lall!
80 for tLee I will neuer come nye.”
~Now Ladye Butler is to London againe, in all tLe speed miglit bee ;
& wLen sLee came before Ler prince,
84 sLee kneeled low downe on Ler knee:
“ a boone, a boone, my Leege ! ” sLee sayes,
“ ffor gods loue grant itt mee ! ”
“ wLat is tLy boone, Lady Butler 2 ?
88 or wLat wold tLou Laue of mee2 P ”
a wLat is tLy boone, Lady Butler?
or wLat wold tLou Laue of mee ?
“ that ffalse Peeres of Lee, & my brotLer Stanley, 92	& William Sauage, and all, may dye.”
“ come you Litber, Lady Butler, come you ower tLis stone ; wold you Laue 3 men ffor to dye,
96 all ffor tLe losse off one ?
4 4 come you Litber, Lady Butler, witb all tLe speed you may; if tLou wilt come to London, LacZy Butler,
100 tLou sbalt goe Lome Lady Gfray.”
ffinis.
1 0. N. leinci, to conceal.—F. Leane is a Cheshire pronunciation for layne, conceal. This provincialism occurs in the previous stanza, where way rhymes to mee, and elsewhere in the ballad (1. 83-8).
How far south it extends I don’t know, but about Frodsham it is very peculiar. —Dr. Robson.
2' These two lines are bracketed, and marked bis in the MS.—F.215
Wiili t £>Utoart $c Joint.
We know of no other copy of this capital ballad.
The scene is in North Britain. The subject is the winning of the Earl of Mar’s daughter by William Stuart of Adlatts Park (wherever that may be)—the winning, but not the wooing. The wooing is done by his brother John. It requires much tact and dexterity, and in this respect, though not in age, John has the advantage—
William he is the elder brother,
But John he is the wiser man.
William generally takes to his bed—
—into care-bed leaps he (see vv. 9, 188)
when his passion runs high, or any scheme for crowning it with its object’s possession fails. John sets forth to “ propose” and “ arrange” in his behalf. This giving of wit and importance to the younger brother is perhaps a Norse element. Such a compensation for the disadvantages of juniority, so to speak, is very commonly made in the Norse tales, (see e.g. Dasent’s Popular Tales from the Norse).
The incidental pictures and allusions to manners and customs are highly interesting; as to the kiss of courtesy (v. 139), to football matches (v. 105), to the beating of daughters (v. 171), to the Dole day (v. 262), the Beggar’s dress and equipment (v. 241 et seq., vv. 312, 313).
Football matches had not unfrequently, as here, a second object—not often, perhaps, so pacific a one as here. “The warlike convocations [of the borderers],” says Scott, “were frequently disguised under pretence of meetings for the purpose of sport.216
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
The game of football in particular, which was anciently and still continues to be a favourite border sport, was the means of collecting together large bodies of moss-troopers previous to any military exploit. When Sir Robert Carey was warden of the East Marches, the knowledge that there was a great match at football at Kelso, to be frequented by the principal Scotch riders, was sufficient to excite his vigilance and his apprehension. Previous also to the murder of Sir John Carmichael, it appeared at the trial of the perpetrators that they had assisted at a grand football meeting where the crime was concerted.”
Alas! my love won’t love me!
AdLATTS : parke is wyde and broad,
& grasse growes greene in onr conntrye ; eche man can gett the lone of his Ladye, 4 but alas, I can gett none of mine !
I sing of Will Stewart and John.
itts by 2 men I sing my song,
their names is william Stewart and lohn : willmm he is the Elder brother,
8 but lohn hee is the wiser man.1	*
Will takes to his bed for love of the Earl of [page 429] Mar’s daughter.
but william he is in carebed Layd,
& for the loue of a ffaire Ladye ;
If he haue not the loue of the Erie of Mars daughter, 12 in ffaith ffor loue that he must dye.
John asks him what he mourns for;
then Iohn was sorry ffor his brother, to see him lye and languish soe : * u what doe you mourne for, brother ? ” he saies, 16 “I pray you tell to me jouv woe.
“ doe [you2] mourne for gold, brother ? ” he saies, “ or doe you mourne ffor ffee P or doe you mourne for a like-some Ladye 20 you neuer saw her wtth jour eye ? ”
1 mon.—F.
yon.—P.WILL STEWART AND IOHN*
217
“ I doe not monrne for gold,” lie saies,
“ nor I doe not monrne for any ffee ; but I doe monrne for a likesome Ladye,
24 I neere blinke on ber wdih mine eye.”
“ bnt when harnest is gotten, my deere brother,— all this is trne that I tell thee,— gentlemen, they lone bnnting well, *
28	& gine wight men their cloth & ffee ;
“ then lie goe a wooing ffor thy sake in all the speed that 1 can gone,
& for to see this Likesome Ladye,
32	& hope to send thee good tydings home.”
Iohn Stewart is gone a wooing for his brother soe ffarr into ffaire Scottland,
& left his brother in mikle ffeare 36 yntill he heard the good tydand.1
& when he came to the Erie of Mars his house, soe well he conld his cnrtesye,
& when he came before the Erie,
40 he kneeled Low downe vpon his knee.
“ 0 rise vp, rise yp, Iohn Steward!
rise yp, now, I doe bidd thee; how doth thy ffather, Iohn Stewart,
44	& all the Lords in his conntrye P ”
“ & itt please yon, my Jjord, my ffather is dead, my brother & I cannott agree, my brother & I am ffallen att discord,
48	& I am come to crane a service of thee.”
“A beautiful lady.”
“ Well, after harvest,
when allowances are given out,
I’ll go wooing for you, Will,
and hope to send you good news.”
So John goes
to the Earl of Mar,
kneels down to him,
and says,
“ My father's dead; my brother and I can’t agree; take me into your service.”
1 i.e. tidings.—P.218
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
“ You shall he chamber-lain to my daughter,
and have
treble
wages.”
Content, says John.
Next
Sunday,
coming from church,
John tells the Lady his message ;
“ O Welcome, welcome, Iohn Stewart!
a welcome man thou art to me !
He make thee chamberlaine to my daughter,
52	& ffor to tend of that Ladye soe ffree.
“ & if thou wilt haue a better office, aske, and thou shall haue itt of mee ;
& wher§ I giue other men a penny of wage,
56 inffaith, Iohn, thou shalt haue 3.”
& then bespake him Iohn Stewart,
& these were the words said hee,
“ there is no office in jout Court 60 this day that better pleaseth mee.”
the ffryday is gone, the Sunday is come,— all this is true that I doe. say,—
& to the church that they be gone,
64 Iohn Stewart & the Lady gay;
& as they did come home againe,
I-wis itt was a meeten mile,
Iohn Stewart & the Lady gay,
68 they thought itt but a [little *] while.
“I am a messenger, Ladye,” he sales,
“ I am a messenger to thee.”
“ 0 speake ffor thy selfe, Iohn Stewart,” shee saies, 72	“ a welcome man that thou shalt bee ! ”
“ Hay, by my ffaith,” saies Iohn Stewart, u which euer, alas, that may not bee ! he hath a higher degree in honour,
76 alias, Ladye, then euer I!
1 little.—P.WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
219
44 lie is a Lord now borne by birth,
& an Erie affter his ffather doth dye ; his haire is yellow, his eyes beene gray ; 80 all this is true that I tell yee.
that his brother, an Earl,
yellow-
haired,
grey-eyed,
4 4 he is ffine in the middle, & small in the wast,	gmau_
& pleasant in a womans eye ;
& more nor this, he dyes for yo^r Lone,
84 Therfore, Lady, show some pittye.”
[page 430]
is dying for her love.
44 If this be soe,” then saies the Lady,	she say
44 If this be true that thou tells mee, by my ffaith then, Iohn Stewart,
88	I can lone him hartilye.	she can love
him,
44 bidd him meete me att S* Patr[i]ckes Church and he is to on Sunday after Andrews day;	meefc liel
the fflower of Scottland will be there,
92	& then begins our summers play.	Summer
Games,
44 & bidd him bring with him a 100 gunners,	with 100
& rawnke 1 ryders lett them bee,	gunners,
& lett them bee of the rankest ryders 96 that be to be ffound in that countrye.2
44 they 3 best & worst, & all in Like,
bidd him cloth them in one Liuerye ;	0iad all in
& ffor his men, greene is the best,	green,
100	& greene now lett their liueryes bee ;
1	See Page 432 [of the MS.], 6‘l1 Line from the bottom, [page 227, 1. 298 of this volume] where it is ranke ryders.
Rente is used by (Law? Douglas for a Race, a Course, and in the plural renkis, Whence bo rink up & down ; discurrere, circumire, from Belg. rencken, flectere.
Thus Pag. 137, 1. 15: The futemennis renkis, is, The Races of the footmen. Pag. 138. 18, 32. The renkis end, The
end of the Course. So Pag. 193. 52, Solisque vias is render’d The Sonnys renke, JE. 6. 796. So iEn. 7. 802, querit iter, sekis his renk. N.B. rank rider is still used in Leicestershire, & signifies a keen eager rider, one that doth not spare horse-flesh.—P. -
2	The t seems to be made over an rl, part of which is left. —F.
3	the.—P.220
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
himself in scarlet,
“ & clothe himselfe in scarlett redd, that is soe seemlye ffor to see ; ffor scarlett is a ffaire Conlonr,
104	& pleasant all way es in a womans eye.
and then win
most of the 16 games.
“ he mnst play sixteene games att ball against the men of this conntrye,
& if he winn the greater part 108 then I shall [Love] 1 him more tenderlye.”
John writes all this to his brother Will.
Will leaps out of bed,
what the Lady said, lohn Stewart writt, & to Argyle Castle sent it hee ;
& 2 [when] Willie steward saw the letter, 112 fforth of care-bed then Lope hee.
niusters his	hee mastered together his merry men all,
hee mustered them soe louelilye, hee thought hee had had scarson halfe a 100? 223 men, 116 then had hee 11 score and three.
chooses, the 100 best,
clothes them in green,
he chose fforth a 100 of the best
that were to be ffound in that conntrye, he cladd them all in one Conlonr,
120	& greene I-wis their lineryes bee.
himself in scarlet,
he cladd himselfe in scarlett redd, that is soe seemelye ffor to see ;— ffor scarlett is a ffaire conlor,
124	& seemlye in a womans eye ;—
and goes to St. Patrick’s Church.
& then towards Patricke Church he went w&th all his men in braue array, to gett a sight, if he might,
128	& speake with. his Lady gay.
1 Love is written in the MS. by a later
hand between then and L—F.
2 When.— P.WILL STEW AKT AND IOHN.
221
when they came to Patrickes chnrche,
shee kneeled do'wne by her mother trnlye :	His Lady
“ 0 Mother, if itt please yon to gine me leane,	her mother
to let her go
132 the stewarts horsse ffaine wold I see.”	and see
the Stewarts.
“ He gine yon leane, my deere danghter,
& I and my maide will goe w^th yee : ” the Lady had rather hane gone her seife,
136 then hane had her mothers companye.
when they came before Willie Steward, soe well hee cold his cnrtesye,
“I wold kisse jour danghter, Ladye,” he said, 140	“ & if jour will that soe itt bee.”
When they see Will, he asks for a kiss from the daughter.
the Ladyes mother was content	She agrees,
to doe a strannger that cnrtesye ;
& when willie had gotten a kisse,	ana will
144 I-wis shee might hane teemed him 3.1	takes it.
16 games were plaid that day there,— this is the trnth as I doe say,— willie stewart & his merry men,
148 thé carryed 12 of them away.
& when they games that they were done,
& all they ffolkes away were gone bnt the Erie of Marrs & William Stewart,
152	& the Erie wold needs hane Willmm home.
He plays 16 games,
and wins 12 of them.
The Earl of Mar asks him home.
& when they came vnto the Erles howse, they walked to a garden greene; ffor to confferr of their bnssines,
156 into the garden they be gone.2
1 deemed it 3.—P.	given him 3:	row or team: teamian, to produce, pro-
teem, to pour out; to unload a cart; to pagate. Bosworth.—F. cause, contrive. Halliwell. A.-S. tecim, 2 I weepe [added by]—P. issue, offspring, anything following in a222
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
[page 431] Will asks him for his daughter.
“God forbid,” says the Earl;
“ I’d sooner hang you
or burn you.
Go to your room, girl, in the
devil’s name,
or I’ll beat you.”
Will says he’d better not,
and John rebukes him for his discourtesy.
The Earl threatens John with
loss of service.
“ Hang your service,” says John ;
“ I hold to my brother.”
“ I lone jouv daughter/’ saies willmm stewart,
“ but I cannott tell whether she loueth mee.”
“ Marry, god defend,” saies the Erie of March,
160	“ that euer soe that itt shold bee !
“ I had rather a gallowes there was made,
& hange thee ffor my daughters sake ;
I had rather a ffyer were made att a stake,
164	& burne thee ffor my daughters sake !
“ to chamber, to chamber, gay Ladye,” he saies,
“ in the deuills name now I bidd thee !
& thou gett thee not to the Chamber soone 168 lie beate thee before the stewarts eye.”
& then bespake willmm stewart, these were the words said hee,
“ if thou beate thy daughter for my sake,
172 thoust beate a lOO* men and meed ”
then bespake Iohn stewart,—
Lord ! an angry man was hee,—
“ 0 Churl e, if thou wouldest not haue macht w^th my brother,
176 thou might 2 haue answerd him curteouslye.”
“ 0 hold thy peace, Iohn Stewart,
& chamber thy words now, I bidd thee ; if thou chamber not thy words soone,
180	thoust loose a good service; soe shalt thou doe me.”
“Marry! hang them that cares,” saies Iohn Stewart, “ either ffor thy service or ffor thee ! services can I haue enoughe,
184 but brethren wee must euer bee.”
MS. nee.—F.
2 Two strokes for the i in the MS. -F.WILL STEWART AND IOIIN.	223
william Stewart & his brother lohn,	The brothers
to Argyle Castle gon they bee :	Irgyie
.	°	Castle,
& when willye came to Argyle Castle,	and wm
J	0,7	takes to his
188 into carebedd then lope hee.	bed again.
A Parlaiment att Edenborrow was made, the Kmy & his Nobles all mett there ; thé sent ffor willmm stewart & Iohn,
192 to come amongst1 the other peeres.
A parliament is held at Edinburgh. Will and John go,
their clothing was of scarlett redd,	saiiy clad.
that was soe seemelye ffor to see ; blacke hatts, white heathers plewed 2 w^th gold,
196	& sett all on their heads trulye.
their stockings were of twisted silke, with garters ffringed about with gold, their shoes were of the Corde vine,3 200	& all was comelye to behold.
& when they came to Edenborrowe, they called ffor lohn Steward & Willie :
I answer in A 4 Lords roome,” saies will Stewart, Will is
called, and
204	44 but an Erle I hope to bee.”	answers as
1	a Lord.
4 4 come downe, come downe,” saies the Lord of Mars, The Earl of 441 knew not what was thy degree.”	didn’t know
\	.	his rank
44 0 churle, if I might not haue macht w^th thy before, daughter,
208 itt had not beene long of my degree.
1	The MS. has four strokes for the m, —F.
2	Perhaps pleited, pleted, i. e. plaited
or plated.—P. Pr. plier, to plait, plie,
bend, turne, wrie. Cotgrave.—F.
8 Cordevine, i. e. Cord wane, Spanish, or Cordovan Leather, from Cordova, in Spain. Johns.—P.
4 MS. L>—F.224
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
Will answers that he’s the King’s nephew, and fit to match with the Earl’s daughter.
“ my ffather, hee is the King his brother,
& then the is vnckle to me;
0 Churle, if I might not haue macht w^th thy daughter,
212 itt had not beene long of my degree.” *
The King	“ 0 hold jouv peace,” then sayd the King,
SEIJIS ll6 11
“ Cozen william, I doe bidd thee ; infaith, Cozen willmm, he loues you the worsse 216	. because you are a-kinn to mee.
malie Will an Earl,
John a Lord,
“lie make thee an Erie wzth a siluer wande, & adde more honors still to thee ; thy brother Ihon shall be a Lord 220 of the best att home in his.countrye.
and their brother Christopher a Knight.
“ thy brother Kester1 shalbe a 'Knight,
* lands & liuings I will him giue,
& still hee shall liue in Court wzth mee,
224	& lie maintaine him whilest he doth liue.”
& when the p&rlaiment was done,
& all the ffolkes away were gone, willye stewart & lohn his brother, 228 bo Argyle Castle they be gone.
Will and John go home,
and Will falls lovesick again.
but when they came to Argyle Castle That was soe ffarr in that Countrye,2 he thought soe much then of his loue, 232 that into carebedd then lope hee.
[page 432]
John
promises to go wooing once more for him,
lohn Stewart did see his brother soe ill: Lord ! in his heart that hee was woe; “ I will goe wooing for thy sake 236 againe yonder gay Ladye to.
1 cp. Kester Norton, voi. ii. p. 212,	2 Perhaps West Country, but it is
1. 61.—P.	North Country below.—P.WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
“ He cloth my seife in strange array, in a beggars habbitt I will goe,
' thai when I come before the Erie of March 240 my clothing strange he shall not knowe.”
lohn hee gott on a clouted cloake, soe meete 1 & low then by his knee,
w^th 4 garters ypon one Legg,
244	2 aboue, & to we below trulye.
“ but if thou be a beggar, brother, thou art a beggar that is ynknowne ;
ffor thou art one of the stoutest beggars 248 that euer I saw since I was borne.
“ heere, geeue 2 the Lady this gay gold ringe, a token to her that well is knowne;
& if shee but aduise itt well,
252 sheele know some time itt was her owne.”
“ stay, by my ffaith, I goe not yett,” lohn steward he can replye ;
“ He haue my bottle hull of beere,
256 the best that is in thy butterye ;
“ He haue my sachell ffilld full of meate,
I am sure, brother, will doe noe harme;
ffor, before I come to the Erie of Marrs his house, 260 my Lipps, I am sure, they wilbe warme.”
So when he came to the Erie of Marrs house, by chance itt was of the dole day;
but lohn cold ffind no place to stand 264 yntill he came to the Ladye gaye,
1 A.-S. ‘ micle and mategreat and Gloss, to Piers Plowman’s small: Guthlac, 1. 24, ed. Grein. Skeat’s 2 here give.—P.
clad as a beggar,
with four garters on one leg.
Will
gives him] a gold ring to show to his ladylove.
John fills his bottle with beer, J
his satchel with meat,
and goes to the Earl of Mar’s on Distribution Day.
John gets near the lady,
Crede.—F.
VOL. III.226
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
and after the doles are given,
tells her
who he is.
She asks
how Will is.
“ 111, through you.”
She weeps,
lays the "blame on her father,
and says she’ll meet
Win at Martings-dale in three days.
but many a beggar he threw downe, and made them all w^th weeping say,
“he is the devill, hee is no beggar,
268 that is come fforth of some strange countrye ! ’
& now the dole that itt is delte,
& all the beggars be gon away sauing Iohn Stewart, that seemed a beggar,
272	& the Ladye that was soe gay.
“Lady,” sais Iohn, “I am no beggar,
as by my clothes you may thinke that I bee ;
I am yo^r servant, Iohn stewart,
’276	& I am sent a messenger to thee.”
“ but if thou be Iohn stewart, as I doe thinke that thou bee, avayle1 thy capp, avayle thy hoode,
280	& I will stand & speake to thee.
“ how doth thy brother, Iohn stewart,
& all the Lords in his countrye ? ”
“ 0 ffye vpon thee, wicked woman !
284 my brother he doth the worsse ffor thee.”
with that the teares stood in her eyes;
0 lord! shee wept soe tenderlye ; sais, “ ligg the blame vnto my ffather;
288 I pray you, Iohn stew art, Lay itt not to mee !
<c comend me to my owne true loue
that liues soe farr in the North countrye,
& bidd him meete me att Martingsdale 292 ffullye w[i]thin these dayes 8.
pull down, from hr. a val.—F.WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
227
“ hang them,” sais the Lady gay,
“ that letts their1 ffather witting bee ! lie prone a Lad ye ffull of lone,
296	& be there by the snnn be a quarter highe.
“ & bidd him bring w^th him a 100? gunners,2 &ranke riders lett them bee, lett them be of the rankest ryders 3 300 that be to be fFonnd in that Countrye.
“ the best & worse, & all in like,
bidd him clothe them in one liuerye;
& for his men, greene is the best,
304 And greene now lett their Lyueryes bee; rpage 433]
il & cloth himselfe in scarlett Redd, that is soe seemelye for to see ; for scarlett is a ffaire Coulor,
308	& pleasant in a womans eye.”
what they Lady sayd, Iohn steward writt, to Argyle Castle sent itt hee; his bagg & his dish, & showing home,
312 vnto 3 beggars he gaue them all 3.
& when willie stewart saw the Letter, fforth of carebed then Lope hee; he thought himselfe as lustye & sound 316 as any man in that countrye.
he mustered together his merrymen all, he mustered them soe louinglye; he thought he had had scarce halfe a 100d,"
320 then had hee 11 score and three.
“ Let him bring 100 gunners with him,
clad all in green,
while he’s in scarlet.”
John sends this message to Will.
Will jumps out of bed,
musters his 223 men,
1	my.—F.
2	m in place of nn in the MS.—F.
8 Two or three letters appear one over
the other for the s of this word in the MS.—F.228
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
chooses the 100 best,
and posts to
Martings-
dale.
There his love
meets him,
kisses him and John,
marries him,
goes home with him,
and is soon great with child.
John goes to the Earl of Mar.
The Earl hopes Will has married his
daughter.
No, he hasn’t, says John,
and he’ll send her home to you.
lie chose fforth a 100d of the best
that were to be found in that companye,
& presentlye they tooke their horsse,
324	& to martingsdale posted hee.
& when he came to Martingsdale,
he found his loue staying there trulye, for shee was a Lady true of loue,
328	& was there by sunn was a qwarter highe.
shee kisst willmm stewart & his brother lohn, soe did shee part of his merry men :
“ if the Ohurle, thy ffather, hee were here,
332 he shold not haue thee backe againe.”
they sent ffor preist, they sent ffor Clarke,
& they were marryed there w^th speede ; Willmm tooke the Lady home 1 w^'th him,
336	& they liued together long time indeed.
& in 12 monthe soe they wrought, the Lady shee was great w^th childe ; thé sent lohn stewart to the Erie off Marre 340 to come & chr[i]sten the barne soe milde.
“And if this be soe,” sayes the Erie of Marre, “ lohn stewart, as thou tells mee ;
I hope in god you haue marryed my daughter, 344	& put her bodye to honestye.”
“ Nay, by my ffaith,” then saies lohn stewart, “ ffor euer alas that shall not bee ; ffor now wee haue put her body to shame,
348 thoust haue her againe hame to thee.”
1 n instead of m in the MS.—F.WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
229
“ I had rather make thee Erie of Marre,
& marry my daughter vnto thee ; for by my ffaith,” sais the Erie of Marr,
“her marryage is marrd in our countrye.,,
“ if this be soe,” then sais Iohn stewart,
“ a marryage soone that thou shalt see ; ffor my brother william, my ffathers heyre, shall marry thy daughter before thine eye.”
they sent ffor preist, thé sent ffor Clarke,
& marryed there they were with speed ;
& william stewart is Erie of Marr,
&Jiis ffather-in-Law dwells with him indeed.
“ I’d rather you marry her then, and I’ll make you Earl of Mar.”
“ No, Will ’ll marry her.”
So Will does, and is Earl of Mar.
ffinis.230
$.oto ti)e Springe fe tmt
This ballad is in the Roxburghe Collection, vol. i. p. 200, entitled “ A Lover’s desire for his best beloved; or, Come away, come away, and do not stay. To an excellent new Court tune” Having been printed by the assigns of Thomas Symcocke, the Roxburghe copy of the ballad must be of the reign of James I., says Mr. Chappell, who prints the tune of it on pages 464-5 of his Popular Music, vol. ii. “ The rhythm of the first part of the tune is peculiar, from its alternate phrases of two and three bars, but still not unsatisfactory to the ear.” The date assigned to the ballad by Mr. Chappell, he confirms by the fact that Christmas’s Lamentation—a piece like in character to our In olde times paste—is to be sung to the tune of Now the Spring is come, and was itself written during the latter part of the reign of Elizabeth, or that of James I., as the yellow starch then in vogue is mentioned in it.
It needs almost an effort now to realise how great the change must have been from the winter of Early and Middle England— with their ill-built and chimneyless houses, their scarcity of fuel and seldom-changed food, their wretched roads,—to the glad light green of spring, its sun, its song of birds, and all its heavenly brightness. The impression which the spring made on Chaucer is seen often in his works, and was, I believe, a deeper one than the season has made on any subsequent poet. But still to all poets and men the time has been, and is, one of joy; to all lovers one specially of love. Nature’s current then sets that way: why should* not her loveliest work go with it ? “ Fairest faire, then turn to thy love! ” sings our song-writer. Who of us does not hope that she did ?—F.MOW THE SPKIMGE IS COME.
231
NO W" the spring is come, tnrne to thy lone, to thy lone, to thy lone, to thy lone, withont delay ! where the iilowers spring, & birds doe singe 4 their sweete tnnes : Jf : if : doe not stay ! where I shall ffill thy lapp with fflowers,
& coner thee with shady bowers.
Come away, Come awaye,
8 Come away, & doe not stay !
. Shall I langnish still for1 thy lone,	[page 434]
still ffor thy lone : Jt : it : withont releffe P shall my ffaith soe well aproned 12 now dispayre : jf : Jf : with my greeffe P where shall verfcne then be ffonnd bnt where bewtye doth abonnd ? Come away ! &c.
fflora heere hath made a bedd ffor my lone,
16 ffor my lone : it : Jf : of roses redd.
Phebns beames to stay are bent, ffor to yeeld : Jt : it : my lone content,
& the pleasant Eglantine
20 m[i]xt2 with a 1000 fflowers fine. Come away ! &c. ^
Hearke ! the Nightingale 3 doth singe ffor my lone : &c : the woods doe ringe.
Pan, to please my lone, allwaye s 24 pipethe there : &c : his ronndelayes.
& the pleasant rnshye brookes,
& enery fflower, for my lone lookes. Come away ! &c.
Bewtyes Queen with all her traine 28	4 doth attend : &c : my lone ypon the plaine ;
1	Shall I still languish for.—P.
2	mixt.—P.
Dearest, now spring’s come, turn to thy love !
Come away !
Let me nob languish.
Leave me not to despair!
Here is a bed for thee
of roses
and
eglantine.
The nightingale sings for thee.
Venus waits for thee,
Mightingale in the MS.—P. attends.—P.232	NOW THE SPRINGrE IS COME.
the Muses play for thee;	trippinge Satyres dancinge moue delight : &c : my bewtyous lone the muses nine, wtth musicke sweete
32	doe all attend, my loue to meete. Come away ! &c.
then turn to thy love!	ffairest ffaire ! then turne to thy loue, to thy loue : &c : thai looues thee best ! lett sweete pittye moue ! grant loue for loue
36	like the doue : &c : let our loue for euer rest !
Come away!	crowne my desires wzth a 1000* ioyes ! thy loue reuiues, thy hate destroy es. Come away! &c. ffin[is].233
ISosluorti) ffetlïu.1
This is one of many pieces celebrating that great event which gave the land rest from its generation-long succession wars. The following version of the song was produced, as the last line shows, in the reign of James I. But the original composition may well belong to an earlier period. There is a certain air of greater antiquity about many passages of it. Alliterative verses abound, as vv. 47, 48, 55, 147, 148, 175, 176, 199, 211, 212, 214, 218, &c. &c.
The passage relating the narrow escape from execution of Lord Strange occurs also in Lady Bessy. Perhaps the earliest account of that peril is given by the continuer of the Croyland Chronicle in the following words : —
Denique crescentibus indies mmoribus quod Regis rebelles adventum suum in Angliam maturant & accélérant; Rex antem dubins in qno portu applicare intendimi id enim per nnllos exploratores sibi certitudinaliter afferri potnit; se transfert versus Aqnilonem, parnm ante festum Pentecostes: relieto domino de Lovell Camerario suo prope Siithcimp-tonicim, nt classem snam ibi diligenter instruat, nt omnes portns illarnm par-tinm fida observet custodia, nt ipsos hostes si inibi applicare enrarent, coadu-natis viribus omnium circnrn incolen-tinm, debellare non prætermitteret.
Perditis illic sub hac non necessaria
politia victualibus & pecuniis ###... quo Rex tot expensas faceretur, nnde non falleret æqnivocationem vocabuli portus illius, qui à multis pro eornm descensu deseribebatur. Aiunt aliqui esse portum in partibns Suthamptonm appellatnm Miìforcliam, sicut est in Wallia. Et quia nonnulli quasi essent prophetieo spiritu præditi, prædixerunt homines istos in portu de Milford appul-suros, ' consueyerimtque prophétisé hu-jusmodi non in famosiori sed in alio sæpissime ejusdem nominis loco suum sortili effectum : Præterea visus est Rex tot propugnarla in ilia Australi parte Regni hoc tempore constituisse. Sed
1 written in the Time of James PI, see last line.' Either the Author of this & of the Song in Page 464 [of the MS. Ladye Bessiye, p. 321 below] is the same, or one of them has copied almost ver-
batim from the other. See Pag# 441 & seq1.^ There is a song of latter date on this Subject in the printed Collection 12™ Vol. 34 p. 47, N. 6.—P.234
BOSWOUTH FEILDE.
frustra. Illi enim primo die Augusti in nominatissimo ilio portu Milford juxta Pembrochiam prospero statu, nulla inventa resistentia, applicuerunt.
Ga visus est Rex, audito eorum adventu, seu saltem gaudere dissimulavit, scribens ubique, jam sibi diem venisse desidera-tum, quo de tarn exili comitiva facile triumphaturus, subjectos a modo indubitata pacis beneficiis recomfortet. Interea mandata terribilia multiplicibus literis ad omnes Regni comitatus dirigit, ne ulli bominum, eorum saltem quotquot ad aliquas in Regno hsereditates nati sunt, bellum futurum detractent, cum ea in-terminatione, quod quicunque post ob-tentam victoriam inveniretur in aliqua parte Regni, ei in campo prsesentialiter non abstitisse, nihil aliud speratimi sunt, quam bona omnia, possession es, & vitam amittere.
Parum ante istorum hominum appul-sum, Thomas de Stanley, senescallus hos-pitii Regis, accepta licentia, ut in patriam suam Lancastrice, domum & familiam suam, unde diu aberat visurus, transiret, non aliter ullam ibi moram trahere per-mittebatur, ni si iilium suum primogeni-tum, Georgium dominum Lestrange, Not-inghamiam ad Regem loco suo transmit-teret; quod & fecit. Reinde hominibus istis, ut prsefertur, apud Milfordiam Wallice appulsis, facientibusque iter suum per aspera & indirecta partium Borealiumillius Provincise ; ubi Willielmus Stanley frater ejusdem Domini Senescalli, utpote Camerarius de Northwales, singu-lariter prsesidebat : misit Rex ad dictum dominum de Stanley, ut omni postposita mora, sese Regis conspectui apud Noting-hamiam prsesentaret. Timuit enim Rex id quod accidit, ne mater dicti Comitis Bichmundice, quam dictus dominus de Stanley habuit in uxorem, maritum ad partes filii tuendas induceret. Ille autem mirabili .... pestem sudatoriam qua laborabat allegans, venire non potuit. Eilius autem ejus qui clanculum à Rege discessum paraverat, discoopertus ab insidiis capitur, conjurationem suam & patrui sui Willielmi Stanley supradicti, simul & Johannis Savage Militum, ad partes Comitis Bichmundice defensandas, aperit, misericordiam postulai, promittit-que patrem suum cum omni potentia in Regis auxilium quam citissime adventurimi. Et super hoc, periculum in quo
erat, simul cum desiderio hujusmodi prsestandi auxilii, literis suis patri denunciai.
Interim dictis duobus aliis Militibus prò proditoribus Regis apud Coventriam & alibi publice denunciatis, festinanti-busque inimicis, ac dirigentibus vias suas die ac nocte recte in faciem Regis : opus erat omnem exercitum, licet non-dum integre congregatum, à Notinghamia dimittere, venireque ad Leicestriam. Ibique compertus est numerus hominum pugnatorum ex parte Regis major quam antea visus est unquam in Anglia prò una parte. Die autem Dominico ante festum Bartholomei Apostoli, Rex maxima pompa diadema portans in capite, cum Duce Norfolchice Johanne de Howard, ac Henrico Bercy Comite Northumbrice, ceterisque magnificis Dominis, Militibus, & armigeri s, populariumque multitudine infinita, opidum Leicestrense egressus, satis per intercursores edoctus, ubi hostes sequenti nocte de verisimili manere vole-bant, ad octo miliaria ab eo opido distantia, juxta Àbbathiam de Mirivall. castra metatus est.
Majores autem exercitus adversantis hi erant: imprimis Henricus Comes de Bichmond, quem illi suum Regem Hen-ricum septimum appellabant; Johannes Vere Comes Oxonice, Johannes Wellys dominus de Wellys, avunculus Regis Henrici septimi, Thomas dominus de Stanley & Willielmus frater ejus, Ed-wardus Widevyll frater Elizabeth Reginse, valentissimi^ miles, Johannes Cheyne, Johannes Savage, Bobertus Willoughbyì Willielmus Berkeley, Jacobus Blunt, Thomas Arundell, Bichardus Egecombe, Edwardus Ponyngs, Bichardus Gilford, & alii plures, tam ante hanc turbation-em, quam in isto ingressu belli, militari ordine insigniti. De Ecclesiasticis vero affuerant consiliarii, qui simile exilium perpessi sunt, venerabilis Pater Petrus Episcopus Exoniensis, flos militile patrise suse, Magister Bobertus Moreton Clericus Rotulorum Cancellasse, Crystoferus Urs-wyk, & Johannes Fox, quorum alter Elee-mosynarii alter Secretarii officium postea consecutus est, cum aliis multis.
Mane die Lunce, illucescente aurora, cum non essent Capellani de parte Regis Bichcirdi parati ad celebrandum, neque jentaculum ullum paratum, quod Regis tabescentem animum refocillaret ; illeque,BOSWORTH FEILDÉ.
235
ut asseritur, ea nocte terrenda somnia quasi multitudine daemonum circundatus esset, viderat, sicut de mane testatus est ; faeiem uti semper attenuatala, tunc magis discoloratam & mortiferam prse se tulit, affirmans quod hujus hodierni belli exitus, utrivis parti victoria concessa fuerit, Regnum Anglice penitus distruet : & expressit mentem suam eam fore, ut si ille victor evadit, omnes ' fautores adversse partis confundat : idque ipsum idem prsedicebat, adversarium suum super benevolos suse partis execu-turum, si victoria illi succedat. Denique ingre[die]ntibus moderato passu Principe & militibus partis adversse super exer-citum Regis ; mandavit ille ut prsedictus dominus Lestrange illico decapitaretur. Illi autem quibus hoc officium datum est, videntes ancipitem rem nimis, ma-jorisque ponderis quam unius hominis exterminium in manibus esse, differentes crudele Regis mandatum exequi dimi-serunt hominem suo arbitrio, & ad interiora belli reversi sunt.
Inita igitur acerrima pugna in ter am-bas partes, Comes Richmundice cum militibus suis directe super Regem Richard-um processit : Comes autem Oxonice, major post eum in tota ipsa societate, valentissimus miles, in eam alam ubi Dux Norfolchice constitutus erat, magno tam Grcdlicorum quam Anglicorum comitati! stipatus tetendit. In eo vero loco ubi Comes NorthumbricB cum satis decenti ingentique militia stabat, nihil adversi neque datis neque susceptis belli ictibus cernebatur. Ad postremum, gloriosa Dicto [sic] Corniti Richmundice, jam soli Regi victoria, una cum pretiosissima Corona quam Rex Richardus ante gestavit in capite, ccelitus data est. Nam inter pugnandum, & non in fuga, dictus Rex Richardus multis letalibus vulneribus ictus, quasi Princeps animosus & auden-tissimus in campo occubuit. Deinde prsefato Duce Norfolchice, Richardo Rat-
clyjf Milite, Roberto Brakenbury Milite, Constabulario Turris Lo?idoniarum Jo-hannem [sic] Bendali Secretano, Roberto Bercy Milite, Controrotulatore hospitii Regii, ac Waltero Beveereux Domino de Ferreis, & multis, maxime Borealibus, in quibus Rex Richardus adeo confìtebat, [sic] ante ullas consertas manus fugam iiieuntibus : nullse partes dignse sive habi-les remanserunt, in quas gloriosus victor Henricus septimus alicujus pugnse experi entiam denuo renovaret. Pace igitur ex hoc bello universo Regno concessa, inventa [sic] inter alios mortuos corpore dicto Richardi Regis, . . . Multasque alias contumelias illatas, ipsoque non satis humaniter propter funem in collum adjectum usque ad Leicestriam deportato ; novus Rex Corona tam insigniter con-qusesita decoratus Leicestriam vadit. Dumque hsec ita se haberent, multi nobiles atque alii in captivitatem redacti sunt. Atque in primis Henricus Comes NorthumbricB, Thomas de Howard Comes Surrei, primo genitus dicti defuncti Ducis Norfolchice: captus est etiam Willielmus Gatesby, qui’ inter omnes consiliarios defuncti jam Regis praeminebat ; cujus caput apud Leicestriam pro ultima re-muneratione tam excellentis officii sui abscisum est. Duo autem valecti parti um occiduarum Regni, pater & fìlius sub Brecher vocabulo appellati, qui post finitima praelium ad victorum manus de-venerant, laqueo suspensi sunt. Et cum neque auditum, neque lectioni aut memoriae commendatimi est, aliquos alios post recessum à bello, similibus suppli-ciis deputatos ; sed Principem hunc novum in omnes suam clementiara impartisse ; ccepit laudari ab omnibus, tanquam Angelus de ccbIo missus, per quem Deus dignaretur visitare plebem suam, & liberare eam de malis quibus hactenus af-flicta est supra modum.-—Historice Croy-landensis Continuano; Cale, Rerum Anglic acne m Bcriptores, torn. i. p. 572-575.
4
God : thah shope botb. sea and Land,
& ffor all creatures dyed ont tree, saue & keepe the realme of England to liue in peace & tranquillitye!
May Christ
keep
England in peace !236
BOSWORTH FEILDE.
We have cause
to welcome Henry YII.
Who thought England would have changed so soon ?
We know
that Henry VI. was martyred.
Let us thank God for Henry VII.
King
Edward
served Jesus.
1 rightwise riktivis.—F.
St. George, to vs a sheild thou bee !
ffor we haue cause to pray, both old & younge, w^th a stedfast hart hull devatlye,
8	& say, “ welcome Henery, right-wise 1 Kingl ”
welcome rights wise King, & Ioy royall, he that is grounded w^th grace ! welcome the ffortune that hath befall,
12 which, hath beene seene in many a place l
who wend 2 that England as itt was,
soe suddenlye changed shold haue beene P therfore lett vs thanke god of his grace,
16	& say “ welcome Henery, right-wise King ! ”
how had wee need to remember, & to our minds call
how England is transported miraculouslye to see the great Mischeefe that hath befall 20 sith the Martyr dome of the holy King Henery !
how many lords haue beene deemed to dye, young innocents that neuer did sinn ! therfore lett vs thanke god hartilye,
24	& say “ welcome Henery, right-wise King ! ”
some time a King raigned in this land, that was Edward of hye ffelicytye; he was dowted & dread, as I vnderstand,
28 through all the nations in Christentye;
he serued Iesus ffull heartilye :
these examples may be taken by him which hath preuailed him 3 with royaltye 32 to weare the crowne & be our King.
, i. e. righteous.—P. A.-S.	2 wen’d, ween’d.—P.
3 ? him superfluous, see 1. 39.—P.BOSWORTH FEILDE.
237
for w^th tonnge I hane heard it told,
when Henery was in a ffar cuntrye,	Henry vii.
that 3 times he was bought & sold 36 .throughe the might of gold & ffee.
he serned Iesns ffull hartylye :	[page 435] did so too.
this example may be said by him which prenailed right royallye 40 to weare the crowne and be onr King.
they banished him oner the fflood,	He was
banished
oner the fflood & streames gray; yett his right in England was good,
44 as herafter know yon may.
there was hee banished oner the ffloode,
& into a strange Land they can him 1 bring; that time Raigned Richard with royaltye,
48 he ware the crowne & was onr Kinge.
that was well seene att streames stray;
att Milford hanen, when he did appeare with all his Lords in royall array,
52 he said to them that with him weare :
“ into England I am entred heare, my heritage is this Land within ; they shall me boldlye bring & beare,
56	& loose my liffe, bnt lie be King.
“ Iesns that dyed on good ffryday,
& Marry mild thats ffull of might, send me the lone of the LorrZ Stanley!
60 he marryed my mother, a Lady bright;s
1	MS. hin.—E.	the Countess of Richmond, mother of
2	Lord Stanley (afterwards Earl of Henry VII. She was his wife as early
Derby) had married as his second wife	as 1473, if not earlier,—Gr. E. Adams.
when
Richard III. was king.
But he landed at Milford Haven,
and claimed his heritage,
to be king.
He prayed for the help of
Lord Stanley238
BOSWORTII FEILDE.
“ that is long sitli I saw ]ier w^th siglit;
I trust in Iesn wee shall meete w?'th winne,1 & I shall maintaine her honor right 64 ouer all England when I am Kinge.
“ had I the Lone of that Lord in rich array'
that hath proued his manhood soe well att need,
and his	& his brother S^r Willmm, the good Stanley;—
brother Sir	.	&	J
William,	68 a better 'Knight nener vmstrode 2 steede !
“ that hath beene seene in mickle dreed : much was the worshipp that happened him ; that noble	a more nobler Kniqht att neede
knight,	v
72 came neuer to maintaine Kinge.”
But we’ll talk of Richard III.
now leaue wee Hereby, this prince royall, & talke of Richard in his dignitye, of the great misfortune did him befall:
76 the causer of his owne death was hee.
Wicked counsellors ruined him.
wicked councell drew Richard neere,
of them that had the prince3 in their guiding4; ffor wicked councell doth mickle deere,5 80 that bringeth downe both Emperour & King.
He condemned to death Lord Stanley who won Berwick for him
the Lord Stanley bothe sterne & stout,—
he might be called fflower of fflowers,—man6 dye.
that was well seene without doubt 84 att Barwicke walls with towers hye ;
1	A.-S. win, pleasure.—F.
2 bestrode.—P.	vm-, urn-, means * round/—F.
3	Only half the n in the MS.—F.
4	Four strokes for ui in the MS.—F.
5	A.-S. dar, dam, destruction, injury.
6	maun, i.e. must.—P.BOSWORTH FEILDE.
239
when all the Lorcfe of England let itt bee, that castle wightlye can hee winn. was there ener Lord in England, ffare or nere,1 88 that did snch iorney 2 to his Kinge ?
then Richard bade a messenger to ffare soe ffare 3 into the west conntrye to comfort his knights, sqniers lesse & more,
92	& to set good rule amongst his comintye.
then wicked conncell drew Richrardl neere:
L J	counsellors
these were they 4 words they said to him,
“wee thinke yee worke vnwittylye 96 in England, & 5 yee will continue Kmg.
“ ffor why, the Lord Stanley is lent 6 in this Land, the Lo rd Strange, & the Chamberlaine 7; these 3 . they may show vpon a day a band 100 such as may noe Lorde in Christentye.
“ lett some of them ynder yo^r bondage bee,	he mus,t put,
if any worshipp you thinke to winn; or else short while continue shall yee 104 In England to be our Kinge.”
told him Lord Stanley and others were too strong,
when no other Lord could.
'then they made out messengers w^th maine & might So
^	° messengers
soe ffarr into the west countrye;	are sent
to the Lo?xl Stanley that noble Knight	to Lord
.	Stanley
108 they kneeled downe ypon their knee
1	far or nere, or perhaps neie.—P.
2 A day’s work.—Dyce.	Cp. Fr. Bonne iournée fait qui de fol se delivre. Pro. he does an excellent day’s work that rids himselfe of a foole. Cotgrave. —P.
3	far.—P.
4	the.—P.
5	an, if.—F.
6	lend, to dwell, remain, tarry.— Halliwell.—F.
7	John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, Lord Chamberlain.—G-. E. A.240
BOSWORTH FEILDE.
and bid him
come to the King.
He sets off,
but falls sick at Manchester,
and sends on
Lord
Strange
to know
Richard’s
will.
Lord
Strange
kneels to Richard,
who
welcomes him with kind words
but froward, heart,
& said, “ 'Richard that raignes with royaltye, Emperonr of England this day within, hee longeth yon sore, my Lord, to see;
112 yon mnst come & speake with onr Kinge.”
then they Lord bnsked1 him vpon a day
To ryde to Ring Richard with royaltye, [Pa°e 43<d & hee ffell sicke att Manchester by the way:
116 as the will of god is, all things mnst bee.
the Lord strange then called [he] him nee;
these were the words hee said to him:
“ In goodlye hast now ryde mnst yee 120 to witt the will of Richard, onr Kinge.”
then this Lo rd bowned 2 him ifull right to ryde to Ring Richard hastilye. when hee came before his sonerraigine in sight,
124 he kneeled downe ypon his knee.
“ welcome Lo rd strange, & kinsman nye ! ” these were the words he said to him:
“ was ther eener any Baron in England of ancetrye3 128 shold be soe welcome to his Kinge ? ”
alas that ener he cold soe say,
soe ffroward a hart as hee had ynder ! that was well seene after ypon a day;
132 itt cast him & his crowne assnnder,
& bronght his body into bale & blnnder, these wicked words he cold begin; thns ffalshood endeth in shame & wonder,
136 whether itt be with Emperonr or King.
1	busked, i. e. dressed.-—P.
2	bowned, i.e. prepared . - P.
ancestry.—P.BOSWOETH FEILDE.
241
of itfc keere is no more to say,
but skortlye to ward comanded was kee. new messengers were made without delay 140 soe ffarr into tke west conntrye
to tke Lord Stanley soe wise & wittye : tkese were tke words tke sayd to kim,
“ yon must raise tkose that vnder yon bee,
144	& all tke power that yon may bringe ;
“ yonder eometk Richmond over tke fflood wZth many ally ants 1 ont of ffarr conntrye, bold men of bone and blood ;
148 tke crowne of England ckalengetk kee.
“yon mnst raise tkose that vnder yon bee,
& all tke power that yee may bringe, or else tke Lore? strange yon mnst nener see,
152 which is in danger of onr 'King”
In a stndye tkis Lord can stand,
& said, “ deere Iesns ! kow may tkis bee?
I draw wittenes to kim that shope2 botk sea land,
156 that I nener delt w^tk noe treckerye.
“ Rickard is a man that katk no mercye ;
kee wold mee & mine into bondage bringe ; tkerfore cleane against kim will I bee,
160 of all England tkongk kee bee King.”
tken another messenger ke did appeare to willmm Stanley, that noble Knight,
& saitk, “ Rich cm-cZ that wearetk the crowne s< cl ear e,
164	& in kis Empire raignetk right,
1 i. e. allyants, aliens.—P.	2 i.e. shaped.—P.
and casts him into prison. Other messengers come to
Lord Stanley, and say,
“Raise all your men ; for
Richmond is coming
to claim the crown ;
or you’ll
never see Lord Strange again.”
Lord Stanley says,
“Richard has no mercy.
I am
against
him.”
Richard’s messenger asks Sir William Stanley
VOL. III.
R242
BOSWORTH FEILDE.
to help the King.
“What! when he keeps
my nephew in hold.
He shall repent it sore!
Let him arm
and fight,
and flee or die.
By Mary and Christ
I’ll make him a meal!
Tell him
to fight and flee or die 1 ”
The
messenger tells Richard
how all the country rebel at Lord
Strange’s
imprison-
ment.
He must fight, or flee, or die.
“ willeth you to bring yo^r power to belpe him to ffight;
ffor all bis trust itt is you in.” then answered that gentle Knight,
168	“ I baue great marueill of your "King ;
“be keepeththe[r]e my nephew, my brothers bey re;— a truer knight is not in cbristentye;— that, Richard shall repent hull sore,1 172 ffor any thing that I can see.
“ bidd him array him w^th royaltye & all the power that hee may bringe ; ffor hee shall either ffight, or fflee,
176 or loose his liffe, if hee bee Kinge.
“ I make mine avow to Marye, that may,
& to her sonne that dyed on tree,
I will make him such a breakefast vpon a day 180 as neuer made 'Knight any King in Cristentye !
“ tell thou King Richard these words ffrom mee : ffor all the power that he may bringe, in the ffeild he shall either ffight, or fflee,
184 or loose his liffe or hee be Kinge.”
then this messenger fforth hee went
to carry to King Richard with royaltye,
& saith, “ in yonder countrye I haue beene sent,
188 soe greeued men are not in Christentye
“ ffor loue of the LorcZ strange that in bale doth bee.” these were the words hee sayd to him :
“you must either ffight or fflee,
192 or loose yo^r liffe, if you bee Kinge.”
1 sair (i.e. sore).—Dyce.BOSWORTH FEILDE.
243
att that King Richard smiled small,
& sware, “ by Iesu. ffnll of might, when they are assembled w^'th their powers all,
196 I wold I had the great tnrke against me to flight,
“ or Prester Iohn in his armor bright,
the Sowdan of Surrey1 with them to bringe ! yett with manhood & w^th might 200 in England I shold continne Kmg.
“ I sweare by Iesn that dyed on a tree,
& by his mother that mayden blythe, ffrom the towne of Lancaster to Shrewsbnrye,
204 ‘Knight nor squier lie leane none aline.
“ I shall kindle their cares riffe,
& gine their Lands to my Knights keene; many a man shall repent the while 208 that) ener they rose against their King.
“ ffrom the holy-head to S4. davids Land, where now be towers & castles hye,
I shall make parkes & plaine ffeilds to stand,
212 ffrythes ffaire, & fforrests ffree.
“ Ladyes, ‘ well-away ! ’ shall crye ;
widdowes shall weepe, & their hands wringe ; many a man shall repent that day 216 that ener they rose against their Kinge.”
then he made ont messengers wdh maine & might thronghont England ffarr & neere,2 , to Dnke, Erie, Barron, & Knight,
220	& to enery man in his degree.
J Syria.—Robson.	2 nee.—P.
n 2
Richard swears that, whoever opposes, fpage 437]
he’ll still be king,
he’ll leave ho Lancashire squire alive.
and will lay waste Wales,
make
widows
weep,
and rebels rue.
He sends all over England for his nobles,244
BOSWOETH FEILDE.
and they come to serve their King:
the Duke of Norfolk, the Earls of
Kent,
Shrewsbury,
Lincoln,
North-
umberland,
Westmoreland :
Lords
Zouch,
Maltravers,
Arundel,
Wells,
Grey of Codnor, Bowes,
Audley,
Berkeley,
Eerrers of Chartley,
Eerrers of Groby,
Fitzhugh,
Scrope of Upsal, Scrope of Bolton, Dacres,
you. neuer heard tell of such a companye att sowte, seege,1 nor noe gatheringe : part of their names heere shall yee 224 that came that day to serue their Ring.
thither came the duke of Norffolke vpon a day,
& the Erie of Surrey that was his heyre ; the Erie of Kent was not away,
228 the Erie of Shrewsbury breme 2 as beare.
the Erie of Lincolne 3 wold not spare,
the Erie of Northumberland ready bowne, the Erie of Westmoreland great othes sware,
232 all they said 'Richard shold Keepe his crowne.
theres was my Lord Zouch, sad att assay 4 ‘ my Lord Mattrevis,5 a noble Knight; young Arrundell dight him ypon a day,
236 the Lord wells, both wise and wight;
the Lord Gray Gotner 6 in his armour bright, the Lord Bowes made him bowne, the Lord Audley was ffeirce to flight,
240	& all said Bichard shold keepe his crowne.
there was my Lord Bartley, sterne on a steede, the Lord flerryes of chartlye, the Lord flerryes of Strobe,
the Lord Bartley noble att neede,
244 chamberlaine of England that day was hee.
the Lord ffittz Hugh, & his cozen nye,
the Lord Scroope of vpsall, the Lord scroope of Bolton;
the Lord Dacres raised all the North cuntrye;
248	& all said Bichard shold keepe his crowne.
1	assault, siege.—F.
2	MS. brenne.—F.
3	MS. Lincolme. —F.
4	stedfast in trial.—F.
5	Maltrevers.—P.
e i.e. Lord Grey of Codnor.—P.BOSWORTH FEILDE.
245
There was many nobles mustered to flight:
the Lord Audley & the Lord Lumley,	Lumley,
the Lord Gray-stocke 1 in his armour bright,	Greystocke;
252 he brought with him a noble companye,
he sware by Iesus that dyed on a tree,
‘ that his enemyes shold be beaten downe; he was not [in] England, flarr nor neere,
256 that shold lett2 Richard to weare his crowned
there was Sir lohn Spencer, a noble Km^t,	Sirs J.
Sir Raph hare-bottle 3 in rich array,
Sir william ward, alwayes that was wight,	w. Ward,
260 Sir Archeobald, the good Rydley ;
Sir Nicholas Moberly was not away,	N. Moberiy,
nor yett Sir Robert of Clotten,	r. ciutton,
alsoe Sir Oliuer, the'hend horsley ;	o. Horsley,
264	. all said Richard shold keepe his crowne.
there was Sir Henery Percy,4 sterne on steede,	H. Percy,
Sir Roger Bowmer in his companye,
Sir Richard Manners, noble att neede,	R. Manners,
268 Soe was Sir Henery the hend Hatteley; [page 438]
Sir Robert Conway in companye,	r. Conway,
Sir Raphe Smyth & Sir Roger Akerston,
& Sir William, his cozen nye ;	w. Aker-
272	& all sayd Richard shold keepe his crowne.
There was a noble 'Knight, Sir Iohn the Gray,	jn. Gray,
& Sir Thomas of Mountgomerye ;
Sir Rodger Sanfort was not away;	r. Sanfort,
276 flrom London came Sir Robert Brakenburye;
1 Ralph, Lord Greystock, who died in	2 hinder.—Robson.
1487, without male issue, when the ,	3 Harbottle.—P.
barony became united with that of Dacre.	4 Sir Henry Percy.—P.
—G. E. Adams.246
BOSWORTIf FEILDE.
H. Bowdrye, R. Robbye,
M. Constable,
W. Conyers,
M. Wardley, R. Rosse,
R. Sturley, G-. Clyfton,
T, North,
H. Stafford,
R. Ryder,
J. Hunting-ton.
R. Swayley,
W. Staple-ton.
Sir Henery Bowdrye was not away,
nor yett Sir Richard the good Chorlton ;
Sir Raphe Robbye made him yare ;
280 all said Richard wold keepe his crowne.
there was Sir Marmadnke Constable, a noble 'Knight, of King Richards councell hee was nye ;
Sir william Conyous,1 allwayes that was wight,
284 Sir Robert Thribald with his meanye;
soe was Sir Martine of the wardley,
& Sir Richard the good Hortton,
& Sir Richard Rosse sware smartlye 288 that King Richard shold keepe his crowne.
There was Sir Robert, the steme Sturley ;
Sir Iohn of Melton, thither Came hee,
Sir Graruis Clyfton 2 in rich array,
292 Sir Henery Perpoint in his degree,
Sir Thomas North with royaltye,
& alsoe Sir Iohn of Babington,
Sir Humphrey Stafford sware certainelye 296 that King Richard shold keepe his crowne.
there was Sir Robert Ryder, a man of might,
Sir Robert Vtridge in his dignitye ;
Sir Iohn Huntington was ffeiree to fight,
300 soe was Sir Iohn willmarley.
Sir Robert Swayley with royalltye,
& alsoe Sir Bryan of stableton,3
& Sir william his cozen nye,
304	& all said Richard shold keepe his crowne.
1	Conyers.—P.
2	Sir G-ervase Clyfton.—P.
Sir Bryan Stapleton.—P.BOSWORTH FEILDE.
247
There was Sir 'Richard Ratcliffe, a noble Rnight, of King Richards conncell was hee ;
Sir William his brother was ffeirce to flight,
308	& Sir Thomas, they were brethren 3.
& Sir Richard the Mallinere,
& Sir Iohn the good Hortton,
& Sir Thomas the good Mallynere,
312	& all said Rich[ard] shold keepe his crowne.
There was Sir Raphe D acres ont of the North,
& Sir Christopher the Moresbye 1;
Sir William Musgreane was stiffe to stand,
316 soe was Sir Alexander ffawne in his dignitye.
Sir George Murkenffeild behind wold not bee, nor yett Sir Thomas the donghtye Broughton ;
Sir Christopher Owen made him readye,
320	& all sayd Rich[ard] shold weare his crowne.
there was Sir william Tempest out of the vale,
& Sir Richard his cozen nye ;
Sir Raph Ashton, hee made not ffaile,
324 Sir Thomas Maclefeild 2 in Companye.
Sir Richard ward behind wold not bee, nor yett Sir Robert of Middleton;
Sir Iohn Coleburne sware certainelye 328 that Ring Richard shold keepe his crowne.
there was Sir Iohn Neuill3 of bloud soe hye,
Sir Iohn Hurlstean 4 in rich arraye,
Sir Rodger Herne behind wold not bee,
332 Sir lames Harrington, sad att assay,
1 perhaps Thoresby.- -P. Perhaps	3 Neville.—P.
not.—Adams.	4 ? MS. Hurfslean.-
* Sir Thomas Macldesfield.—P.
R. Ratcliffe, W. Ratcliffe,
R. Mallinere,
T. Mallynere,
R. Dacres,
W. Mus* grave,
G-. Murken-ffield,
C. Owen,
W. Tempest, R. Ashton,
R. Ward,
J. Cole-bume,
J. Neville,
R. Herne,
J. Harrington,
-P.248
BOSWORTH FEILDE.
R. Harrington.
All swear Richard shall reign.
2 shires alone fight for Henry.
Lord
Stanley
leaves
Latham
Castle
and marches towards
Newcastle.
Sir Wm. Stanley
marches to Nantwich,
with the flower of Cheshire;
Srr Robert bis brother was not away, nor yett S^r Thomas of Pilkinton ;
& all these, great othes sware they 336 that 'King "Richard shold keepe his erowne.
had wee not need to Iesn to pray, , that made the world, the day & night, to keepe vs ont of bale and woe P 340	2 shires against all England to flight,
& maintaine Henery that came ffor his right,
& in the realme of England was ready bowne ! ffreinds, & yee will hearken me right,	[page 4393
344 I shall tell yon how Henery gott his erowne.
the Lord Stanley sterne and stont, that ener hath beene wise and wittye, flrom Latham Castle w^thonten doubt 348 vppon a munday bowned hee
wrfch Knights & squiers in companye.
they had their banners in the sunn glitteringe ; they were as ffeirce as ffawcon to fflye,
352 to maintaine Henery that was their King.
then this Lord bowned him vpon a day wrfch noble men in companye ;	v
towards Newcastle vnder Line he tooke the way,
356	& told his men both gold and flee.
Sir william Stanley wise and wight, flrom the castle of Holt wrth holts hye to the Nantwich hee rydeth straight,
360	& tooke his men wages of gold and flee.
all the north wales ffor the most purtye,
the fflower of Cheshire, wdh him hee did bringe ; better men were not [in] christentye 364 that euer came to maintaine their King.BOSWORTH FEILDE.
249
Erly ypon Twesday att Morne
Str william Stanley, that Noble Knight, remoned ffrom Nantwiche to tbe towne of stone,— thence to
Stone,
368 by then was Henery come to Stafford straight,—
he Longed sore to see him in sight,	from whence
°	.	he £°es to
& straight to Stafford towne is gone,1	meet Henry,
& kneeled downe anon-right,
372	& by the hand he hath him tane :
376
hee said, “ I am ffull glad of thee ; ”
& these were the words he said to him :
“ through the helpe of my Lord thy ffather,1 2 & thee, I trust in England to continue Kinge.”
who is full glad of him.
then he hent that noble prince by the hand,
& said, “ welcome my souerraigne King Henery ! He exhorts chalenge thy Herytage & thy Land,	t0 claim his
380 that thine owne is, & thine shall bee.	ciown,
“ be Eger to flight, & lothe to fflee !
let manhood be bredd thy brest within !
& remember another day who doth ffor thee, 384 of all England when thou art Kinge.”
he eager to fight,
and, when he wins, to remember his friends.
after, there was noe more to say,
but leaue of the prince he hath taken,3 & came againe by light of the day 388 to the litle prettye towne of stone.
Then Sir William
returns to Stone.
Early vpon Saturday att morne,
to Lichffeild they remoue, both old & younge.4 att woosley bridge them beforne,
392 there had they a sight of our Kinge.
On Saturday
he marches to Lichfield
1 gane {i. e. gone).—Dyee.	and the then (1485) Lord Stanley, haying
2	This should he “ brother” : Thomas, died in 1458.—Adams.
Lord Stanley, the father of Sir William, 3 tane.—P.	4 yinge.—Dyce.250
BOSWOKTH FEILDE.
with a goodly company,
and rides through the town.
Then he hears
that Lord Stanley
is about to
fight
Richard.
He passes on to Hattersey
and joins
Lord
Stanley.
On Sunday they set their battle in array,
waiting
Richard's
attack.
& to Lichefeild they ridden right,
with answerable army came royallye : to nomber the companye that was with the Knight, 396 itt was a goodlye sight to see.
guns in Lichefeild they cracken on hye to cheere the conntye both more & min,
& glad was all the Chinalrye 400 that was on heneryes parte, onr Kinge.
throughout Lichefeild rydeth the Knight, on the other side there tarryed hee ; a messenger came to him straight,
404	& kneeled downe vpon his knee,
& saith, “ the Lord Stanley is his enemy nye, that are but a litle way ffrom him ; they will flight within these houres 3 408 with Kichard that is Englands Kinge.”
“ that wold I not,” the Knight can say,
“ ffor all the gold in Christentye ! ” towards Tamworth he t’ooke the way,
412	& came to Hattersey, & neighed nye
where the Jjord Stanley in a dale cold bee,
with trumpetts & tabours tempered with him : itt was a comelye sight to see 416 as euer was to maintaine Kinge.	[page440]
All that night there tarryed they,
& vpon the Sunday gods service did see. toward the ffeild they did them array ;
420 the vawward the Lo rd Stanley tooke hee,
Sir William Stanley the rerward wold bee,
& his sonne Sir Edward with a winge. thé did remaine in their array 424 to waite the coming of Richard King.BOSWORTH FEILDE,
251
then they Looked to a fforrest syde,
they hard trumpetts & tahonrs tempered on hye : they thought King Rich ard had comen there,
428	& itt was the Noble prince, King Henerye.
ouer a riuer then rydeth hee ;
he brake the ray, & rode to him: itt was a comelye sight to see 432 the meeting of our Lord & Kinge.—
then in their host there did ffall affray a litle time before the night;— you neuer saw men soe soone in their array 436 wrfch ffell weapons ffeirce ffor to flight.—
ypon a keene courser that was wight, other Lords w^th him hee cold bringe ; thus in array came ryding straight,
440 Henery of England, our noble Kinge.
he lowted low & tooke his hatt in his hand,
& thanked the states 1 and cominaltye :
“ to quitt 2 you all I vnderstand;
444 I trust in Iesu that day to see.”
many a cry in the host that night did bee;
& anon the Larke began to singe; truth of the battell heere shall yee,
448 that euer was betweene King and King.
King Henery desired the vaward right
of the Lord Stanley that was both wise & wittye; & hee hath granted him in sight,
452	& saith “ but small is jour companye.”
But Henry-first comes,
(comely it was to see the meeting)
on a swift courser,
our noble king.
He thanked
the lords and commons, and said he hoped to requite them.
Next'
morning,
he asked to lead the van.
1 nobles.—F.
quite, i.e. requite.—P.252
BOSWORTH FEILDE.
Lord
Stanley gave it him, with 4 good knights,
Tunstall,
Savage,
Perschall,
Humphrey
Stanley.
Lord Stanley has two battalions.
Sir Wm.
Stanley has the rearguard.
He sees Richard’s host: '
five miles of men,
in four battalions,
4	of the Noble Knights then called liee; their names to you then shall I minge ;
he bade array them with their chiualrye,
456	& goe to the vaward wrfch our Kinge:
Srr Robert Tunsall, a Noble Knight,
& come of royall anceytree ;
Srr Iohn Savage, wise & wight,
460 Sir Hugh Persall; there was 3 :
Srr Humphrey Stanley the 4*!1 did bee, that proued noble in euerye thinge;
they did assay them w^th their chiualrye,
464	& went to the vaward with our kinge.
the Lord Stanley both sterne and stout,
2 battells that day had hee
of hardye men, wzthouten doubt 468 better were not in christentye.
Sir william, wise and worthye, was hindmust att the outsettinge;
men said that day that dyd him see,
472 hee came betime 3 vnto our 'King.
then he remoued vnto a mountaine full hye, & looked into a dale ffull dread ;
5	miles compasse, no ground they see,
476 ffor armed men & trapped steeds.
theyr armor glittered as any gleed2;
in 4 strong battells they cold fforth bring;
they seemed noble men att need 480 as euer came to maintaine [a] King.
1 MS. betine.—F.
burning coal.—Dyce.BOSWORTII FEILDE.
253
the duke of Norfolke 1 ayanted2 his banner 3 bright, Norfolk in soe did the younge Erie of Shrewsburye, to the sun & wind right speedylye dight,
484 soe did OxfFord, that Erie, in companye.
488
to tell the array itfc were hard ffor me,
& they Noble power that they did bring. And of the ordinance 4 heere shall yee, that hacl that day Richard our Kinge.
[page 441]
Their
artillery
was,
they had 7 scores Sarpendines 5 without dout, that were locked & Chained yppon a row, as many bombards 6 that were stout;
492 like blasts of thunder they did blow.
140 serpentines,
140
bombards,
10000 Morespikes 7 w^th-all,	10*00?
A	.	morris-pikes
& harquebusyers, throwlye can thé thringe 8	busiersrque"
to make many a noble man to ffall 496 that was on Henerys part, our kinge.
9 Kmg Richard looked on the mountaines hye,	Lordard SeeS
& sayd, “ I see the banner of the Lord Stanley.” Stanley’s
J J	J	banner,
he said, “ ffeitch hither the Lord Strange to mee,
500 ffor doubtlesse hee shall dye this day;
“ I make mine ayow to Marye, that may, that all the gold this Land within shall not saue his liffe this day,
504 in England iff I be Kinge ! ”
and swears
Lord Strange shall die.
1	Norfolk was on the side of Richard. Shrewsbury, a minor, probably with his nncle Sir Gilbert Talbot, was on the side of Henry. Oxford was a chief commander of Henry’s side.—Adams.
2	availed, or perhaps avanced.—P. advanced, raised.—Dyce.
3	MS. bamer.—P.
4	Pr. Artillerie, f., Artillerie, Ordnance. Cotgrave.—P.
5	a kind of cannon. Halliwell. Pr.
Serpentine, the Artillerie called a Serpentine or Basiliskoe. Cotgrave.—P.
6	See Plorio, ed. 1611, pp. 100, 112, 127. Halliwell. Pr. Bombarde. ABum-bard, or mnrthering peece. Cotgrave.—. P.
7	a large pike. Halliwell.—P.
8	A.-S. \>ringan =to rush.—F.
9	Vide Pag. 478. St. 236, & sequent3 [The 6* Part of Ladye Bessiye, below.]254
BOSWORTH FEILDE.
Strange is brought out ;
he calls
Christ to witness that he never was a traitor.
He sends a message to his gentlemen
and yeomen,
a ring to his Lady,
and hopes that
they all may meet in heaven.
If Henry loses,
his son is to be taken abroad;
then they brought the JjotcI Strange into his sight;
he said, “ ffor thy death make thee readye.” then answered that noble knight,
508	& said, “ I crye god & the world mercye !
“ & Iesns, I draw wittnesse to thee that all the world ffrom woe did winn, since the time that I borne did bee,
512	was I neuer traitor to my Kinge.”
a gentleman then called hee,— men said Latham was his name,—
“ & euer thon come into my conntrye,
516 greete well my gentlemen eche one;
“ my yeomen Large of blood and bone,
sometimes we had mirth att onr meetinge; they had a Master, & now they hane none,
520 ffor heere I must be martyred w^th the Kinge.”
there he tooke a ring of his ffingar right,
& to that sqnier ranght itt hee,
& said, “beare this to my Lady bright,
524 for shee may thinke itt longe or shee may 1 see;
“ yett att doomes day meete shall wee,—
I trust in Iesu that all this world shall winn—
In the celestyall heauen vpon hye 528 in presence of a Noble King.
“& the ffeild be lost vpon our p&rtye,— as I trust in god itt shall not bee,— take my eldest sonne that is my heyre,
532	& fflee into some ffarr countrye.BOSWOKTH EEILDE.
255
“ yett the child a man may bee,— hee is comen of a Lords kinn,— another day to renenge mee 536 of Richard of England, if he be King”
then to King Richard there came a 'Knight, saith, “I hold noe time about this to be. , see yee not the vawards begining to flight ?
540 when yee hane the flather, the vnckle, all 3,
“ looke what death you will haue them to dye ;
att jour will you may them deeme.” through these fiortunate words eskaped hee 544 out of the danger of Richard the Kinge.
then the partyes countred 1 together egerlye.
when the vawards began to flight,
King Henery flought soe manfiullye,
548 soe did Oxford, that Erie soe wight;
Sir Iohn Sauage, that hardy Knight, deathes dints he delt that day with many a white hood in fight,
552 that sad men were att assay.
Sir Gilbert Talbott was not away, but stoutly stirred him in that flight; with noble men att assay 556 he caused his enemyes lowe to light.
Sir Hugh Persall, with sheild & speare flull doughtylye that day did hee ; he bare him doughtye in this warr,
560 as a man of great degree.
and when he’s a man,
he is to revenge him on Eichard.
Eichard
hears
that the vans are fighting,
waits to take
the Stanleys;
and Strange
escapes
death.
Henry fights manfully,
and so do Savage,
Talbot,
and Pearsall.
i.e. encountered.—P.256
BOSWORTH EEILDE.
Richard has 40,003 men.
King 'Richard did in his army stand, lie was n[u]mbred to 40000 and 3 of hardy men of hart and hand,
564 that vnder his banner there did bee.
Sir William Stanley
attacks him.
Sir William Stanley wise & worthie	[page 442]
remembred the brea[k]ffast1 he hett to him; downe att a backe then cometh hee,
568	& shortlye sett vpon the Kinge.
Arrows fly, guns shoot:
then they conntred together sad & sore ; . archers they lett sharpe arrowes fflee, they shott guns2 both ffell & ffarr,
572 bowes of ye we 3 bended did bee,
springalls 4 spedd them speedylye,
harqnebusiers pelletts throughly did thringe; Richard’s	soe many a banner began to swee 5
menbegmto	576	was on Richards partye, their King.
Henry’s archers take to their swords,
then onr archers lett their shooting bee,
w^’th ioyned weapons were growden 6 ffull right, brands rang on basenetts hye,
580 battell-axes ffast on helmes did light.
there dyed many a donghtye Km^/it, there vnder ifoot can thé thringe ; and his men	thus they ffought wtth maine & might
mightily. 584 that was on Heneryes part, onr Ring.
A knight advises Richard to flee.
then to Ring Richard there came a Rnight7 & said, “ I hold itt time ffor to fflee ; ffor yonder Stanleys dints they be soe wight, 588 against them no man may dree.
1	See line 179, page 242.—F.
2 MS. gums.—F.	3 yewe.—P.
4 Springal, an ancient military engine
for casting stones and arrows. Halliwell.
—F.
5	swee. qu. perhaps flee.—P. sway (& fall).—F.
6	? grownden.—F.
7	Vide Pag. 479, St. 255 [of MS., last part of Ladye Bessiye\, et sequentes.—P.BOSWORTH FEILDE.
257
“ heere is thy horsse att thy hand readye ;
another day thon may thy worshipp win,
& ffor to raigne with royaltye,
592 to weare the crowne, and be our King.”
he said, “ giue me my battell axe in my hand, sett the crowne of England on my head soe hye ! ffor by him that shope both sea and Land,
596	Kmg of England this day I will dye !
“ one ffoote will I nener fflee whilest the breath is my brest within ! ” as he said, soe did itt bee ;
600 if hee lost his liffe, if he were King.
about his standard can thé light,
the crowne of gold thé hewed him ffroe, with dilffull dints his death thé dight,
604 the Duke of Korffolke that day thé slowe.
the Lord fferrers & many other moe, boldlye on here they can them bringe ; many a noble Knight in his hart was throwe,
608 that lost his liffe with Richard the King.
there was slaine Sir Richard Ratcliffe, a noble Knight,
of King Richards councell was ffull nye ;
Sir william Conyas,1 allwayes that was wight,
612	& Sir Robert of Brakenburye.
a Knight there dyed that was ffull doughtye, that was Sir Richard the good Chorlton ; that day there dyed hee
616 with Richard of England that ware the crowne.
1 Conyers.—P.
YOL. III.	S
But Richard calls for his battle-axe and crown:
he will die a King,
and never flee.
Richard is slain ;
Norfolk too,
Lord
Ferrers,
Sir Richard RatclifEe,
Sir William Conyers,
and Sir Richard Chorlton.258
BOSWOKTH FEILDE.
Sir William
Brandon,
Henry’s
standard-
bearer,
was killed,
and also Sir P. Tribali,
Richard’s
standard-
bearer.
Henry is
proclaimed
King,
and Lord Stanley
hands the crown of England to him.
They ride to Leicester,
amongst all other Km^ts, remember w/iich were hardy, & therto wight:
Sir william Brandon was one of those,
620 King Heneryes Standard he kept on height,
& yanted itt with manhood & might
vntill with dints hee was dr[i]nen downe,
& dyed like an ancyent Knight,
624 with Henery of England that ware the crowne.
Sir Percinall Thriball, the other hight,
& noble Knight, & in his hart was true ;
King Richards standard hee kept vpright 628 yntill both his leggs were hewen him froe ;
to the ground he wold neuer lett itt goe, whilest the breath his brest was within ; yett men pray ffor the Knights 2 632 that ener was soe true to their King.
then they moned to a mountaine on height, with a lowde yoice they cryed king Henery ; the crowne of gold that was bright,
636 to the Lord Stanley deliuered itt bee.
anon to King Henery deliuered itt hee, the crowne that was soe delinered to him,
& said, “ methinke ye are best worthye 640 to weare the crowne and be our King.”
♦
Then they rode to Leister that night	[page ud]
with our noble prince King Henerye ; they brought King Richard thither wz'th might 644 as naked as he borne might bee,BOSWORTH EEILDE.
259
& in Newarke 1 Laid was Lee,	and lay
that many a one might looke on him.	body in
_	.	_	Newark.
thus ffortunes raignes most maruelouslye 648 both wrth Emperour & w^th king.
652
656
now this doubtfull day is brought to an end,
Iesu now on their soules haue mercye !
& hee [that] dyed this world to amend, saue Stanleys blood, where-soeuer they bee,
to remaine as Lords w^th royaltye
when truth & conscyence shall spread & spring, spread! & that they bee of councell nye
to lames 2 of England that is our King !
ffinis.
Jesu have mercy on their souls,
and save Stanley’s blood as Lords wherever truth shall
1 A place in Leicester so called.—P.	transcriber applied the Prayer to the
2 This Poem was certainly written	reigning Prince.—P. before the time of King James, but some260
Sorittag & 13tiro :1
This song is to be found among ct The Ayres that ivere sung and ■played at Brougham Castle in Westmerland, in the King's Entertainment, given by the Right Honourable the Earl of Cumberland and his Right noble Sonne the Lord Clifford. Composed by Mr. Greorge Mason and Mr. John Earsden. Printed by Thomas Snodham, 1618.” They were reprinted by John Stafford Smith in Musica Antigua; and in the preface to that work he says : “ The last verse of the famous ballad Dido Queen was, on this occasion, added to the more ancient song. The Editor has in his possession an older copy without it.” The verse here referred to begins “ Dido wept.”
D’Urfey reprinted the song, with this third verse, in Pills to purge Melancholy, vol. vi. p. 192, but to another tune. The old song was very popular, as may be proved by the following quotations :
You ale-knights ! you that devour the marrow of the malt, and drink whole ale-tubs into consumptions ! that sing Queen Diclo over a cup, and tell strange news over an ale-pot! you shall be awarded with this punishment, that the rot shall infect your purses, and eat out the bottom before you are aware. (The Penniless Parliament of Threadbare Poets, 1608.)
This allusion to the song is ten years earlier than the date of the printed copy of the “ Entertainement.” Again, in Fletcher’s The Captain, Act iii. Scene 3, Frank says :
These are your eyes—
Where were they, Clora, when you fell in love
With the old footman for singing Queen Dido 1
In Charles II.’s reign, Sir Robert Howard (speaking of him-
1 In praise of Inconstancy.—P.ACENEAS AND DIDO.
261
self) said: “In my younger time I have been, delighted with a ballad for its sake; and ’twas 10 to 1 but my muse and I had so set up first: nay, I had almost thought that Queen Dido, sung that way, was some ornament to the pen of Virgil.” (Poems and. Essays, 8vo, 1673.)
“The most excellent History of The Duchess of Suffolk’s Calamity,” printed in 1607, was sung to the tune of Queen Dido. Several more are quoted in Popular Music of the Olden Time, vol. i. pp. 371-2.—W. C.
DlDO: was a Carthage Queene,
& loued a Troian Knight,
[that] wandering,1 many a coste had seene, & many a bloody ffight. as they on hunting [rode,2] a shower drone them in a louing hower, downe to a darkesome Cane, wheras ./Eneas wfth his charmes locket Queene didon in his armes,
& had what hee wold crane.
Dido loved iEneas,
and in a cavd
lie locked her in his arms,,
Dido Hymens rites fforgett,3 12 her lone was winged w^'th hast; her honor shee regarded not, but in her brest him placet, but when their lones were new begun,
16 lone sent downe his winged sonne	But Jove
to ffright Aeneas sleepe,
who bade him by the breake of day	ordered him
ffrom Queene dido steale away,	R^ay’
20 which, made her wayle and weepe.
1	MS. wondering.—F. who wand? —P.
2	went.—P. rode, in the other copy.—W. C.	3 forgot.—P.262
A (ENEAS AND DIDO.
and Dido wept.
iEneas did no wrong, as he was forced to go.
Learn lords, then, to be faithless,
and get new loves.
dido wept, but wbat of tbis ?
the gods wold haue itt soe;
Aeneas nothing did amisse,
24 ffor he was fforcte to goe.
Learne, Lordings, Learne *, no ffaith to keepe with. jouv loues, but lett them weepe; itts ffolly to be true ;
28 And lett this story serue yo^r turne,
& lett 20 didoes burne, soe you gett dalye 2 new.
ffinis.
1 then in the other copy.—W. 0.
daily.—P.
[“ As it bejfell on a Day” printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 82, follows here in the M8. p. 444.]263
Cije JbquietV
This is a much abridged and somewhat mutilated version of the charming and most popular old roihance, The Squyr of Lowe Degref reprinted by Ritson from Copland’s edition, in his Ancient English Metrical Romances; reprinted again more accurately by Mr. Hazlitt in his Early Popular Poetry; liberally quoted from by Warton in his History of English Poetry. The “ Squyr of Lowe Degree,” as Mr. Hazlitt (ii. 22) points out, “ was licensed to John Kyng on the 10th of June, 1560, with several other articles; but no impression by King has hitherto come to light.” The following may possibly be a copy of King’s edition.
With one part of the story—the tender care with which the supposed remains of her lover are preserved by the king’s daughter—the reader will not fail to compare Keats’ Isabella or the Pot of Basil.
It : was a squier of England borne, he wrought a fforffett against the erowne, against the crov/ne & against the ffee :
4 in England tarry no longer durst hee, ffor hee was vexed beyond the ffome 1 * 3 into the Kings Land of Hungarye. he was no sooner beyond the ffome,
8 but into a service he was done ;
An English. Squire offended his King,
and had to flee to Hungary.
There he took service
1	A poor imperfect Old Ballad. Of
very moderate excellence: yet curious.
This is a mutilated incorrect copy of the ancient .Romance intitled The Squire of Low Degree. (So I once thot, but upon comparing them I find them very different.) This seems to differ from the printed Romance of the Squier of Low
Degree about as much as that of Sir Lambwell in pag. 60 [of MS., vol. i. p. 142 of print] does from that of Sir Launfal, & probably for the same Reason—vid. supra, p. 60.—P.
2	Or Vndo your doore: 1132 lines.—P.
3	Sea, qm—P.264
THE SQUIEK.
with
the King’s daughter,
and waited on her till he won her love.
When he was sad, he went to his garden of maples and hazles,
where the martin and
thrush sang.
There he lamented his want of money
and birth that he might win his Lady.
She heard him,
and asked him
whom he was
such a service lie cold him gett,
he serued the Kings daughter in her seate;
such a service he was put in,
12 he serued the Km<js daughter with bread & wine; he serued this Lady att table and Chesse till hee had woone her loue to his.1 he was made vsher of the hall,
16 the setter of the "Lords both great & small.2 the Squier was soe curterous & kind,3 Euery man loued him & was his ffreind.
& alwaies when the Squier was woe,
20 into his arbour he wold goe ;
the maple trees were ffaire & round, the ffilbert hangs downe to the ground, the lay iangles them amonge,
24 the marttin song many a ffaire songe, the sparrow spread vpon her spray, the throstle song both night and day, the swallow swooped too and ffroe:
28 the squires hart was neuer soe woe, he Leaned his backe vntill a thorne,
& said, “ alacke that euer I was borne ! that I had gold, soe had I ffee,
32 marry I might yond ffaire Ladye.
O that I were borne of soe hye a kin, the Ladyes loue that I might win! ” the Lady lay in her chamber hind,
36	& heard the Squier still mourning;
shee pulled fforth a pin of Iuorye, like the sun itt shone by and by ; shee opened the Casement of a glasse,
40 shee saw the squier well where hee was,
“ Squier,” shee sayes, “ ffor whose sake is that mourning that thou dost make P ”
Compare Thomas of Fotte, p, 136 above.—F. See Russell’s Boke of Nurture, 1. 1001,—F.
hend, i. e. gentle.—P.THE SQUIEH.
265
“ Ladye,” Le sayes, “ as I doe see,	[page 445]
44 of my monrninge I dare not teil yee, ffor yon wold complaine ynto onr King,
& Linder me of my Liuinge.”
“ Squier,” sLee sais, “ as I doe tbriue,
48 neuer wbile I am woman aliue ! ”
“ Squier,” sLee sais, “ if you will my loue Laue, anotLer ffasLion you must itt craue, ffor you must to tLe ffeild, & ffigLt,
52	& dresse you like & otLer wise KnigLt1 ;
& euer tLe fformost I Lold you ffirst,
& euer my ffatLer Lold you next,
& Lee will take sucL ffavor to yee,
56 soone marryed togetLer wee sLalLee.’,
“Lady,” Le saies, 44 that is soone said :
Low sLold a man to tLe ffeild, was neuer arraid P Lady,” Le said, “ itt were great sLame 60 a naked man sLold ryde ffrom Lome.”
“ tLou sLalt Laue gold, tLou sLalt Laue ffee, strengLt of men & royaltye.” sLee went to a CLest of Iuorye,
64	& ffeitcLt out a 1001! and 3 :
“ Squier,” sLee saies, “ put tLis in good Lore ; wLen tLis is done, come ffeiteL tLee more.” sLee Lad no sooner tLese words all said,
68 but men about Ler cLamber Ler ffatLer Lad Laid :
“ open jour doore, my Lady alone,
Leere is twenty, I am but one.”
“ I will neuer my dore vndoe 72 ffor noe man that comes me to,
nor I will neuer my dore ynsteake 2 yntill I Leare my ffatLer speake.” tLen tLey tooke tLe Squier alone,
76	& put Lim into a cLamber of ffrom 3 ;
1 Another-guesse Knight; qu.—P.	3 her from, qu.—P. ?
2 i. e. imfasten, open.—P.	ffrane, 1. 153,—F.
mourning
after,
and told him
that if he would have her love,
he must fight and dress like a knight,
and then they could be married.
“ But I have no armour.”
The Lady gives
him 103?.
and promises him more.
The King’s men
who have lain in wait,
take the Squire, put him in prison,
frame : cp.266
THE SQFIEB.
set a corpse
at her
chamber
door,
and mangle his face.
The Lady-gets up,
opens her door, and the corpse falls on the floor.
She thinks
her Squire is dead.
She says she will bury his bowels,
embalm his body,
and keep it at her bed’s head
till it can be kept no longer:
then she’ll bury it, and say her daily prayers on it.
Also she’ll wear
nothing but black.
& to the gallow tree they he gone,
& ffeitched downe a hanged man. thé Leaned him to her chamber dore,
80 the dead might fTall vpon the ffloore ; they mangled him soe in the face, they Lady might not know who he was, shee harde the swords ding & crye ;
84 the Lady rose vpp by and by naked as euer shee was borne, saning a mantle her beforne ; shee opened the chamber dore,
88 the dead man ffell vpon the fflore.
“ alacke,” shee saith, “ & woe is aye ! something to Long that I hane Lay. alacke,” shee sais, “ that euer I was borne !
92 Squier, now thy liffe dayes are fforlorne !
I will take thy ffingars & thy fflax,1 I will throwe them well in yirgins wax ;
I will thy bowells out drawe,
96	& bury them in christyan graue ;
I will wrapp thee in a wrapp 2 of lead,
& reare thee att my beds head.
Squier,” shee sayes, “ in powder thoust Lye ; 100 longer kept thou cannott bee ;
I will chest thee in a chest of stree,
& spice thee well w^th spicerye,
& bury thee vnder a marble stone,
104	& euery day say my praiers thee ypon,
& euery day, whiles I am woman aliue, for thy sake gett masses ffiue. through the praying 3 of our Lady alone,
108 saued may be the soule of the hanged man. Squier,” shee sais, “ now ffor thy sake I will neuer weare no clothing but blacke.
A.-S. feax, hair of the head.—P. Wrapper.—P.
3 Only half the n in the MS.-—P,THE SQIJIEK.
267
112
116
120
124
128
132
136
140
Squier,” sh.ee sais, “lie neuer looke att other thing, nor neuer weare mantle nor ringe.” her ffather stood vnder an easing1 bore,
& heard his daughter mourning euer more ;
44 daughter,” he sais, 44 ffor whose sake is that sorrow that still thou makes ? ”
44 ffather,” shee sais, 44 as I doe see,
itt is ffor no man in Chris tentye.
ffather,” shee sayes, 44 as I doe thriue,	[page 446]
itt is ffor noe man this day aliue ;
ffor yesterday I lost my kniffe ;
much rather had I haue lost my liffe! ”
44 my daughter,” he sayes, £i if itt be but a blade,
I can gett another as good made.”
44 ffather,” shee sais, 44 there is neuer a smith but one that [can] smith you 2 such a one.”
44 daughter,” hee sais, 44 to-morrow I will a hunting ffare,
& thou shalt ryde vppon thy chaire,
& thou shalt stand in such a place & see 30 harts come all in a chase.”
44 ffather,” shee sayes, “godamercy, but all this will not comfort mee.”
44 daughter,” he sais, 44 thou shalt sitt att thy meate, & see the ffishes in the ffloud leape.”
44 ffather,” shee sais, 44 godamercy, but all this will not comfort mee.”
44 thy sheetes they shall be of they Lawne, thy blanketts of the ffine ffustyan.”
44 ffathe[r,] ” shee sais, &c.\
44 & to thy bed I will thee bring, many torchers ffaire burninge.”
44 ffather,” shee sais, &c.
Her father
asks whom she’s sorrowing for.
“ No man alive.
I’ve lost my knife.”
“Tilget another blade for you.
Come and see me hunt to-morrow.”
“ That won’t
comfort
me.”
“ I’ll give you some lawn
sheets and
fustian
blankets,
1 Easing, i. e. Eyes of a house.—P. ? Building with eaves. Bor, bore, a place used for shelter, especially by smaller animals. Sir Tristrem. Easin-
gcing, a course of sheaves projecting a little at the easin, to keep the rain from getting in. Jamieson.—F.
2 that can smithe you, &c.—P.268
THE SQUIEK.
minstrels shall play to you, and
pepper and cloves burnfor you.
Why are you so pale?
I have your lover 1”
He brings the Squire to her;
she swoons,
but recovers when kissed.
She marries the Squire. Kings come to her wedding.
The feast lasts 34 days,
and the lovers live over 30 years.
“ If thon cannott sleepe, nor rest take,
144 thon shalt hane Minstrells with thee to wake.1 ”
“ ffather,” skee sais, &c.
“ peper & Clones skall be bnrninge, that tlion maist ffeele the sweet smellinge.”
148 “ffather,” shee sais, &c.
“ daughter, thon had wont to hane beene both white & red;
now thon art as pale as beaten leade.
I hane him in my keeping 152 that is both thy lone & likinge.” he went to a Chamber of ffrane,
& ffeitcht fforth the Sqnier, a whales bone.2 when shee looked the Sqnier ypon,
156 in a dead swoone shee ifell anon.
throng 3 kissing of that worthye wight, vprisse that Lady bright.
“ ffather,” shee sayes, “ how might yon for sinn 160 hane kept vs 2 loners in twin p ”
“ danghter,” he said, “ I did ffor no other thinge bnt thought to hane marryed thee to a King” to her Marriage came 'Kings ont of Spaine,
164	& Kings ont of Almaigne,
& Kings ont of Kormandye,
att this Ladyes wedding ffor to bee.
a long month and dayes 3,
168 soe long lasted this Mangerye.4 30 winters and some deale moe, soe longe lined these Loners too.	ffinis.
1 A.-S. w&cccm, to watch.—k.	3 ffor is marked out for throng.—k.
2 as white as ivory.—k.	4 Mangerye, i. e. eating, feasting.—P.
[“ Blame not a Woman,” printed in Lo. & Hnm. Songs, p. 84<, follows here in the MS. p. 446.]269
<&	ffestusi t1 *	[page 447]
This piece is, as Percy mentions, “printed in a Collection of Songs called the Rump, p. 237, A. d. 1662.” (It is not in the 1660 edition of the said collection.) It is reprinted in the two-volumed edition that appeared in 1731.	“ It was written,” says Percy,
44 about the beginning of the seventeenth century by the witty bishop Corbet, and is printed from the 3rd edition of his poems 12mo. 1672, compared with a more ancient copy in the editor’s folio MS.”
Y. 9. “Coming to Court after he [Sir Walter Mildmay, “formerly a serious student in and benefactor to Christ’s College,”] had founded his college [Emmanuel College,]” says Fuller in his History of the University of Cambridge, 44 the queen told him 4 Sir Walter, I hear you have erected a Puritan foundation.’ 4 No, madam,’ saith he, 4 far be it from me to countenance any thing contrary to your established laws; but I have set an acorn, which, when it becomes an oak, Grod alone knows what will be the fruit thereof.’ ” John Gifford, Ezekiel Culverwell, Jeremiah Burroughs, Stephen Marshall, Thomas Shephard, Nathaniel Ward, Samuel Crooke, John Cotton, Thomas Hooker, John Yates, John Stoughton, all well-known Puritan divines, were members of Mildmay’s College.
Y. 47. Richard Greenham was born cire. 1531, educated at and elected fellow of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, 44 became pastor to the congregation at Drayton, near Cambridge,” 44 took such uncommon pains,” says Brook in his Lives of the Puritans,44and
1 Printed in a Collection of songs N. B. The Various Headings below are
called the Hump, p. 237, a.d. 1662. from the printed Copy.—P.270
0 NOBLE FESTUS.
was so remarkably ardent in his preaching, that at the conclusion of the service his perspiration was so great that his shirt was usually as wet as if it had been drenched in water; ” “ was a most exact and conscientious nonconformist, choosing on all occasions to suffer rather than sacrifice a good conscience; ” “ died a most comfortable and happy death in the year 1591.” With regard to the “ cure ” the reading of his writings is said in the following piece to have effected, we quote once more from Brook : “ In addition to his public ministerial labours, he had a remarkable talent for comforting afflicted consciences; and in this department the Lord greatly blessed his endeavours. Having himself waded through the deep waters, and laboured under many painful conflicts, he was eminently qualified for relieving others. The fame of his usefulness in resolving the doubts of inquiring souls having spread through the country, multitudes from all quarters flocked to him as to a wise physician, and by the blessing of Grod obtained the desired comfort. Numerous persons, who to his own knowledge had laboured under the most racking terrors of conscience, were restored to joy and peace in believing. When any complained of blasphemous thoughts, his advice was 6i do not fear them, but abhor them.” Amongst his treatises (see his Works, fol. 1612) are “ A sweet comfort for afflicted conscience,” aA short direction for the comfort of afflicted consciences,” “ Eules for an afflicted minde concerning several temptations,” &c.
V. 49. William Perkins (1558-1602), too, was of Cambridge, a fellow of Christ’s College, and afterwards preacher at St. Andrew’s Church. He was both a Boanerges and a Barnabas, according to Brook. “ Mr. Perkins’ sermons were all law and all gospel . . . He used to apply the terrors of the law so directly to the consciences of his hearers, that their hearts would often sink under the convictions ; and he used to pronounce the word damn with so peculiar an emphasis that it left a doleful echo in their ears a long time after.” “ As for his books,” says Fuller in0 NOBLE FESTUS.
271
a highly eulogistic sketch of his life in his Abel Redivivus, “it is a miracle almost to conceive how thick they lye and yet how far they overspread all over Chris tendo me.” . . .
Of all the Worthies in this learned role,
Our English Perkins may, without controle,
Challenge a crowne of Bayes to deck his head,
And second unto none be numbered,
Eor’s learning, wit and worthy parts divine,
Wherein his Fame resplendantly did shine Abroad and eke at home ; for’s Preaching rare And learned writings, almost past compare ;
Which were so high esteem’d, that some of them Translated were (as a most precious jem)
Into the Latine, French, Dutch, Spanish tongue,
And rarely valued both of old and young.
And (which was very rare) Them all did write With his left hand, his right being uselesse quite ;
Borne in the first, dying in the last year Of Q-uéen Eliza, a Princesse without péer.
« T. Fuller’s Abel Bedivims (1651) p. 440.
His works were printed again and again—in 1608-10, 1612, 1616, 1621, 1626, 1635. The reference in the following piece is, no doubt, to his “ Golden chaîne or the description of Théologie, containing the order, of the causes of Salvation and Damnation, according to God’s Word, a view whereof is to be seen in the Table annexed.” See voi. i. of the 1612 edition of his works. This table, a side-note on it informs us, “ may be in stead of an Ocular Catéchisme to them which cannot read ; for by the pointing of the finger they may sensibly perceive the chiefie points of religion and the order of them.” The reader is instructed that “ the white line sheweth the order of the causes of salvation from the first to the last. The blacke line sheweth the order of the causes of damnation.” Some of these latter causes are “ the decree of Reprobation,” “ A calling not effectual,” “ No calling,” “Ignorance and vanitie of mind,” “thehardening of the heart,” “ a reprobate sense,” “ Greedines in sinne,” “ Fulnes of sinne.” A bold analysis of perdition this—an audacious piece of272
0 NOBLE FESTUS.
theological presumption. The black line has a fearful look, as of some dark deadly flood moving across the page. No wonder
Those crooked veins Long stuck in my brains That I feared my reprobation.
Am I mad
AM: I mad, 0 noble ffestus,
because I hope to put down the Pope?
when zeale & godlye knowledge put me in hope to deale with the Pope 4 as well as the best in the Colledge P
Boldlye I preacht “ war1 & cross war a surplus, miters, copes, & rochetts ! come heare me pray 9 times a day,
8	& ffill jouv head with crochetts.”
I wastrained in
Emmanuel’s
house,.
In the house of pure Emanuell2 I had my educatyon,
till my ffreinds did surmise I dazled my eyes 12 with, the light of reuelation.
Boldlye I preacht &c.
i was bound	The bound me like Ta] 3 bedlam,
like a	L J
madman,	.	& lashltl 4 my 4 poore quarters.
and lashed.	.	mL J J r	\
while this does endure,5 ffaith makes me sure 16 to be one of ffox his Martyres.
Boldlye I preacht &c.
These iniuryes I sufferd
with Antich[r]ists perswasion. lett loose my chaine ! neither Boome nor Spaine 20 can withstand my strong inuasyon.
Boldlye I preacht &c.
1 hate a Cross, hate, &c., or ware a originally a seminary of Puritans.—
Cross &c. i. e. beware, &c.—P.	W. C.
8 Emanuel College, Cambridge, was 3 a.—P. 41.—P. 5 thus I indure.—P.O	NOBLE FESTUS.
273
I assailed the seanen-hild Cittye	At Rome i
where I mett the great redd dragon;	red dragon,
I kept him alooffe w^th the armor1 prooffe 24 thonghe now I hane nener a ragg on.
Boldlye I preacht &c.
w^'th a ffiery sword and Targett,	With a swor(j
twice ffonght I w'tth this monster ;	and talget*
lbnt the sonnes of pryde my zeale doe deryde,
28	& all my deeds misconster.
Boldly I preacht &c.
I vnhorset the hore of Babell	i unhorsed
.	the whore of
w^th the Lannce of Inspiration;	Babylon.
I made her stinke, & spill the 2 3 drinke
32 in the Cupp of abbominatyon.
Boldlye I preacht &c.
3 ffrom the beast wtth 10 homes, Lord blesse vs,	1 pmied out
7	7	three of the
I hane plncket of 3 allreadye ;	beast’s ten
r	J 7	horns.
if theyle. Lett me alone, lie leaue him none ;
36 bnt they say I am to headye.
Boldlye I preacht &c.
I saw 2 in the visyon,
w^th a fflying booke betweene them.
I hane beene in dispaire 5 times in a yeere,	IVe been
40	& beene cnred by reading Green ham.4	despair
Boldlye I preacht &C.	Greenham.
1	[insert] of.—P.
2	her.—P.
3	This Stanza is not in the printed Copy.—P.
4	The Works of Richard Greenham, Minister and Treacher of the Word of
God. Lond. 1599, 4to. Greenham was a puritan divine of considerable talents and popularity. His works consist of sermons, treatises, and a commentary on Psalm cxix, Lowndes.—F.
YOL. III.274
O NOBLE EESTUS.
Perkins has
made me fear my damnation.
I Lane read in1 Perkins table 2 the blaeke Line of damnation ; these crooked vaines long stncke 3 in my brainos, 44 that I ffeared my reprob&ewn.
Boldlye I preacht &c.
In the holy tounge of Gannan I placed my Cheefest tresure, till I hurt my ffoot wrfch an hebrew roote 48 thai I bled beyond all measure.
Boldlye I preacht &c.
I’ve told the
Archbishop
that
he favoured superstition.
I was 4 before the Archbishoppe & all the hye Comissyon ;
I gaue him no grace, but told him to his fface 52 that he ffauoured superstition.
Boldlye I preacht &c,	ffinis.
1	observed in.—P.
2 Perkins,	William,	The Works.
Lond., 1608-10, fol., 3 vols. A Performed Catholike, or a Declaration of Declarations. Camb., 1567. A Deformation of a Catholike deformed.	1604, 4to.,
and a Second Part of the Reformation, etc. 1607, Discourse of the Damned
Art of Witchcraft. Camb. 1610. The works of this Puritan are distinguished for their piety, learning1, extensive knowledge of the Scriptures, and strong Cal-vinistic argumentation. Lowndes.—F,
3	so stuck.—P.
4	appear’d.—P.
[“ 0 Watt, where art tho ?” printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, jp. 121, follows here in the MS. p. 447-8.]275
Carle off Carltle1:
This poem was printed from the Folio by Sir F. Madden in the Appendix to his Syr Gawayne for the Bannatyne Club, pp. 256-74. Some of his readings of the MS. differ from mine; and though, if I can trust my eyes, the MS. does not make all the mistakes that Sir F. Madden attributes to it, I have thought it only due to his well-established reputation and great experience in reading MSS., as well as to our readers, who will probably trust him rather than me, to put his readings in the notes. The poem is, as he says, a modernised copy of the Syre Gawene and the Carle of Carelyle in the Porkington MS. No. 10, “ written in the reign of Edward IV.,” printed by him (Sir F. Madden) in the Appendix to his Syr Gawayne, pp. 187-206. Though Mrs. Ormsby Grore has kindly lent me this Porkington MS., I have not collated the Folio with it, as its Syre Gawene will be printed by Mr. Richard Morris for the Early English Text Society next year, and will there be easily accessible to all readers. The alterations are great in words, small in incidents, and the earlier poem is the better one. Sir F. Madden looks on the occurrence of the present poem and The Grene Knight (vol. ii. p. 58) in our Folio as settling the “question of the genuineness and antiquity of the romance-poems (as distinguished from the longer and better-known romances') in this celebrated MS.”—that is, that the Folio poems are not abstracts made of the old romances in the seventeenth century, but retellings or adaptations of abstracts made in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. “ The original of this story must be sought for imthe literature of the Continent, and we find it in the beautiful fabliau of Le Chevalier à VEpêe, printed in Meon’s Recueil, tome i. p. 127, 8vo, 1823, and previously analysed by Le Grand.”
1 A curious Song of the Marriage of Sir Gawane, one of King Arthur’s Knights.—P.
t 2276
CAELE OFF CAELILE.
Like the other Grawaine stories in the Folio, this one takes us into weirdland, the region where necromancers have been at work, where Kelts loved specially to range. And, as in The Turks and Oowin and The Marriage of Sir Gawaine, the counter charm which undoes the fiendly work is Grawaine’s courtesy. Though he was not held worthy of the highest honours in Arthur-stor}^ though he kept not the state of the virgin three who alone achieved the Quest of the Holy G-raal1—Gralahad, Percival, Bors, —yet the sweetness of his spirit, his never-failing gentleness to poor as well as rich, to frightful dames as well as beauties, made him the favourite of most2 of the Arthur-writers, and they sang his praises and his prowess, blessed him with the loveliest wives —the second appears here—and, with Israelitish unction, added many concubines. In contrast with him, here, is not only crabbed Kay, but also the Christian Bishop who has sunk the humility of his religion in the pride of his office, has forgotten that It ffitteth a clarke to be curteous and ffree, and gets accordingly a rap on his crown that sends him down* But Grawaine does not fail: what courtesy requires, that he does, all that his host asks; and so, escapes himself, and rescues his friends, from the fate that had befallen 1500 men before who “ coude not their curtasye,”—death at the hand and mouths of the Carle and his Four Whelps. As of the Turke (vol. i. p. 101, 1. 288) so of the Carle, Grawaine strikes off the head; the bale that Necromancy had wrought is turned to bliss, the loathsome giant becomes again a man, and Grawaine weds the lady gay. What is not possible to those sweet souls who sun their world, at
1 “ Gauwains, G-auwain ! mult a Ione
tans que tu fus chiualers, et onques puis ne semis ton creatour, se peu non : tu ies mais si vi eus arbres qu’il n’a en toi ne fuelle ne fruit, car tu penses que nostre sires en eust la moule et l’escorcbe, puis que li anemis en a eu la flour et le fruit.” Nasciens to Gawain, Queste, p. 114. Àgain: “ et quant il vous vit, si
s’en ala, car lions auies le lieu ordi de uotre pechie, et quant il s’en ala il vous dist, * chiualer plain de poure foi et de poure creanche, cbes iij. choses vous taillent: carite, abstinenche, et uerites, et pour che n’en poes auenir as auen-tures del saint graal.’” Queste, p. 133, ed. F. J. F. for Eoxb. Club, 1864.—F.
2 Others consistently run him down.CARLE OFF CARLILE.
277
whose presence words of wrath and thoughts of evil cease, the remembrance even of whose smile wins us from bitterness and gloom ?—F.
8
12
16
20
Listen : to me a litle stond,
yee shall heare of one that was sober & sound :
hee was meeke as maid in bower,
stiffe & strong in euery stoure;
certes w^thouten ffable
he was one of the round table;
the Knights name was Str Grawaine,
that much worshipp wan in Brittaine.
the lie of Brittaine called is
both England & Scottland I-wis ;
wales is an angle to that lie,
where 'King Arthur soiorned a while 1 ;
w/th him 24 'Knights told,
besids Barrons & dukes bold.
the ‘King to his Bishopp gan say,
“ wee will have a Masse to-day,	[page 449]
Bishopp Bodwim 2 shall itt done : after, to the ffairest 3 wee will gone, ffor now itts grass time of the yeere,
Barrons bold shall breake the deere. ffaine theroff was Sh* Marrocke,4 soe was S^r Kay, the Knight stout;
I’ll tell you about
Sir G-awaine.
Arthur stayed a while in Wales,
and one day said he’d hear Mass,
and then go hunting.
Murrock was glad.
Ivay too,
1	At Cardyfe soiorned J?e kynge a whylle. Porkington MS.—P.
2	that Bishop Sir Bodwine. TurTce
Gowin, L 154, vol. i. p. 96. On this Bodwin or Bawdewyn in The Grene Kny^t, Sir F. Madden says that he “occurs nowhere in the early French metrical and prose romances; and his name seems to have been substituted by the English or Scctish poets in the
14th century, for that of Bishop Brice or Dubricius. There was an Archbishop of Canterbury named Baldwin, who held the See from 1184 to 1191, from whom the name may have been taken. Syr
Gawayne, p. 312.—F.
3	forrest.—Pork.
4	Mewreke.—Pork. Marrake in The Awntyrs of Arthure, 1. 641. He “ appears to be the same as ‘ Sir Marrok, the good knyghte, that was bitrayed with his wyf, for she made him seuen yere a werwolf,’ in Malory’s Morte cCArthur, vol. ii. p. 385 ; and on a similar story is founded the Lai de Bisclaveret of Marie, ed. Roquefort, tome i. p. 179.”—Madden’s Syr Gawyane, p. 335. Marrocke is also the name of the giant in Egla-morc, vol. ii. p. 349,1. 239, and of the false steward in Sir Triamore, vol. ii. p. 82,1. 51.—F.278
CARLE OFF CARLILE.
and
Lancelot,
Percival,
Ewaine,
Lott, the
Green
Knight,
Gawaine,
Mordred,
Lyhius
Disconyus,
and Iro side,
ffaine was Sir Lancelott Dulake,
24 soe was S^r Perciuall,1 I vndertake; ffaine was Str Ewaine 2 & Sir Lott of Lotkaine,3 soe was the 'Knight of armes greene,4 28	& alsoe S£r Gawaine the sheene.
S^r Gawaine was steward in Arthurs hall, hee was the curteous Knight amongst them all.5 King Arthur & his Cozen Mordred,6 32	& other Knights w^thouten Lett,
Sir Lybius Disconyus 7 was there with proud archers lesse & more,
Blanch ffaire 8 & Sir Ironside,9 36	& many Knights that day can ryde.
1	The nephew of king Pescheor, [or king Pelles, the Eich Fisher,] guardian of the Sangreal, whose adventures occupy a quarto volume, printed in 1530. Madden’s Syr Gawayne, p. 345. See Mr. Halliwell’s edition of the verse abstract of the French romance in The Thornton Romances.—F.
2	See Caxton’s Maleore, vol. i. p. 231.
—F.
8 See Caxton’s Maleore, vol. i. p. 55, &c. —F. He was the father of Gawayne, and king of Lothian and Orkney. Geoffr. Monm., lib. ix. cap. 9. Madden, p. 346. He is the celebrated Ywain or Owain sometimes surnamed Le Grand, son of Urien, king of Moray, according to Geoffrey, or of. Eheged, according to the Welsh authorities. His exploits were celebrated in French verse by Chrestien de Troyes, and thence translated into the German, Icelandic, Welsh, and English languages; for which consult Benecke’s edition of Iwein der Biter mit dem Lewen, 8vo, Berlin, 1827 ; Von der Hagen’s Grundriss zur Geschichte der JDeutschen Poesie, 8vo, Berlin, 1812, p. 118; Eitson’s Metrical Romances, vol. i., and Notes, vol. iii., 8vo, It02 ; and Lady C. Guest’s Mabimgion, parti.,' 8vo, 1838. He must not be confounded (as Eitson has done him) with Ywain
VAvoultre, a base son of Urien by his seneschal’s wife, who was killed by Gawayne without knowing him, Roman de Lancelot, iii. f. cxvii. There are also others of the same name mentioned in the Roman de Merlin, i., f. ccviiib, and in the Roman d'Erec et d'Enide. Cf. Arthour and Merlin, p. 306, 4to, 1838. Madden, p. 312-13.—F.
4 Ironside’s son, see 1. 37-40. I know nothing [of him] as one of Arthur’s knights. Madden, p. 346.—F.
6	most courteous Knight of all.—P.
6	Arthur’s son by his sister, King Lot’s wife.—F.
7	Gawaine’s bastard. See vol. ii. p. 416, 1. 8 ; p. 418, 1. 80.—F.
8	Blancheles. Porkn. MS. “ But as no knight of that name occurs, in all probability we should read Brandelys,” says Sir F. Madden, who gives an abstract of the French Eomance about him at p. 349 of Syr Gawayne. See Caxton’s Maleore, vol i. p. 230, ‘ syre Braundyles.’—F.
9	Syre Ironsyde that was called the noble kny3te of the reed laundes, that Syre Gareth [brother of Gawayne] wonne for the loue of dame Lyones. Maleore, vol. ii. p. 384. The narrative of the combat may be read in vol. i. p. 211. Madden’s Syr Gawayne, p. 347.CAELE OFF CAELILE.
279
& Ironside, as I weene,
gate 1 the Knight of armonr greene—
certes as I vnderstand—
*
40 of a ffaire Lady of blannch Land.2 hee cold more of honor iii warr then all the 'Knights that w^th Arthur weare : burning dragons he slew in Land,
44	& wilde beasts, as I ynderstand ;
wilde beares he slew that stond ; a hardyer Knight was neuer ffound ; he was called in his dayes 48 one of King Arthurs ffellowes. why was hee called Ironsyde ? ffor, euer armed wold he ryde ; hee wold allwais arms beare,
52 ffor Gyants & hee were euer att warr. dapple coulour 3 was his steede, his armour and his other weede,
Azure of gold he bare,
56 w^th a Griffon lesse or more,
& a difference of a Molatt4 he bare in his crest Allgate.5 where-soeuer he went, East nor west,
60 he neuer fforsooke man nor beast, beagles, keenely away thé ran, the King ffollowed affter with many a man. they 6 gray hounds out of the Leashe,
64 they drew downe the deere of grasse.7 ffine 8 tents in the ffeild were sett, a merry sort there were mett
who was better than any of Arthur’s knights, an
got his name
because he went always armed,
to fight giants.
Beagles ran,
greyhounds pulled down the deer,
1	i. e. begat.—P.
2	The Seigneur de la Blaunche londe
is noticed as one of Arthur’s knights, in
the Boman de Perceval, f. lxxi. Cf. f.
clxxi b. See in regard to this territory a
note of M. Michel on Tristan, rol. ii. ‘
p. 173. Madden’s Syr Gawayne, p. 348.
—P.
3	Dapple colour’d.—P. The steed’s name was Pabele-honde. Madden’s Syr Gawayne, p. 189, 1. 79.'—P.
4	i. e. a mullet.—P.
5	The second l is oyer the g in the MS.
6 the.—P.	7 8 or ffiue.—F.
greace.—P. fat.—F.280
CAELE OFF CAELILE.
and by noon 100 barts were killed.
But
G-awaine, Kay, and Bisbop Bodwin,
lose tbeir way in
following a red deer.
Gawaine proposes to
dismount, and stay all nigbt in the forest.
Kay says he’ll lodge in somebody’s bouse.
No one dare stop him.
The Bisbop says,
The Carle of Carlisle will:
of comely knights of kind,
68 yppon the bent there can they lead,5 & by noone of the same day a 100^ harts on the ground thé 2 Lay. then Sir Gawaine & Sir Kay,
72	& Bishopp Bodwin, as I heard say,
after a redd deere 3 thé rode into a fforrest wyde & brode, a thicke mist ffell them among,
76 that caused 4 them all to goe wronge : great moane made then Sir Kay that they shold loose the hart that day ; that red hart wold not dwell.
80 hearken what aduentures them beffell : ffnll sore thé were adread ere thé any Lodginge had ; then spake Sir Gawaine,
84	“ this Labour wee haue had in vaine ;
this red hart is out of sight, wee meete with him no more this night.
I reede wee of our horsses do light,
88	& lodge wee heere all this night ;
Truly itt is best, as thinketh mee,	45°i
to Lodge low vnder this tree.”
“ nay,” said Kay, “ goe wee hence anon,
92 ffor I will lodge whersoere 5 I come ; for there dare no man warne me,6 of whatt estate soeuer hee bee.”
“ yes,” said the Bishopp, “ that wott I well ;
96 here dwelleth a Carle in a Castele, the Carle of Carlile is his name,
I know itt well by St. lame ;
1	lend.—Madden.
2	delend.—P.
caised.—Madden.
6 wherforre, Madden’s text : vlierso
3 rayne-dere, and reyne-dere, 1. 79.—
ever ?, his note.—F.
6 wern hit me.—Pork.
Pork.
4 Only half the u in the MS.—F.281
CARLE OFF CABLILE.
was there neuer man yett soe bold 100 that durst lodge within bis hold ;
but, & if hee scape 1 w^th his liffe away, hee ruleth him well, I you say.” 2 then said Kay, “ all in here,3 104 to goe thither is my desire;
ffor & the Carle be neuer soe bolde,
I thinke to lodge within his hold, ffor if he iangle & make itt4 stout,
108 I shall beate the Carle all about,
& I shall make his bigging bare,
& doe to him mickle Care ;
& I shall beate [him,] as I thinke,
112 till he both sweate and stinke.”
then said the Bishopp, “ so mote I ffare, att his bidding I wilbe yare.”
Gawaine said “ lett be thy bostlye ffare,5 116 ffor thou dost euer waken care.
if thou scape 6 w^'th thy liffe away, thou ruleth thee well, I dare say.” then said Kay, “ that pleaseth mee ;
120 thither Let vs ryde all three.
such as hee bakes, such shall hee brew ; such as hee shapes, such shall hee sew; such as he breweth, such shall he7 drinke.”
124	“ that is contrary,” said Gawaine, “ as I thinke ;
but if any ffaire speeche will he gaine, wee shall make him Lord within his owne 8; if noe ffaire speech will auayle,
128 then to karp on Kay wee will not ffaile.”
he never lets any man lodge •with him.
“ If he refuses me,
I’ll beat him till he stinks,” says Kay.
Gawaine tells Kay not to brag;
they’ll try fair speech first;
if that’s no good,
Kay may
1	staye.—Madden.
2	It schall be bette, as I barde say,
t And 3efe he go wtt lyfe away.— Porkington MS.
3	i. e. together. Perhaps all on fire.
—P.
4	him.—P.
s Compare vol. i. p. 91, 1. 25-30.
Kay was the braggart of Arthur’s court.
—P.
6 Madden reads the MS. staye, and corrects it to scape.—F.
'7 him ?.—Madden.
8 aine (in pencil).—P. Pork, has tile talk 1. 104-30 somewhat differently.— F.282
CARLE OFF CARLILE.
They ride to the Earl’s gate.
Gawaine
knocks,
and tells the Porter
that they are tired out with hunting,
and ask his lord for a night’s lodging.
Kay
threatens the Porter,
but he
answers
boldly.
Gawaine asks him, courteously,
and the Porter gives his
then said the Bishopp, 44 that senteth 1 mee; thither lett vs ryde all three.” when they came to the carles gate,
132 a hammer they Sound hanging theratt: Gawaine hent the hammer in his hand,
& cnrteonslye on the gates dange. florth came the Porter with still flare,
136 saying, 44 who is soe bold to knocke there P ” Gawaine answered him cnrteonslye 44 man,” hee said, 44 that is I.2 wee be 2 ~K.nights of Arthurs inn,
140	& a Bishopp, no moe to min 3 ;
wee hane rydden all day in the fforrest still till horsse & man beene like to spill; flor Arthurs sake, that is our Kinge,
144 wee desire my Lord of a nights Lodginge,
& harbarrow4 till the day att Morne, that w'ee may scape5 away without scorne.”
6 Then spake the crabbed ~Knight Sir Kay:
148	44 Porter, our errand I reede the say,7
or else the Castle gate wee shall breake,
& the Keyes thereof to Arthur take.” , the Porter sayd with words throe,8 152	44 theres no man aliue that dares doe soe !
of9 a 100d such as thou his death had sworne, yett he wold ryde on hunting to morne.10 ” then answered Gawain 'that was curteous aye, 156	44 Porter, our errand I pray thee say.”
44 yes,” said the Porter, 44 withouten fiayle I shall say jour errand flull well.”
1	Madden reads tcnteth.—F.
2	“ It am I ” is the earlier phrase.—F.
3	min, ming, i. e. mention, vide v. 162. —P.
4	Madden reads harborrow.—F.
5	Madden again reads stape, and corrects to scape.—F.
6	Pork, puts in the Porters answer,
warning them that his lord “ can no cortessye,” and that they will not escape without a “wellony.”—F.
7	thou say or thee (to) say.—P.
8	tho, i. e. then.—P. A.S. hra, hold.— F.
9	If.—P.
10	to-morrowr.—P.CARLE OFF CABLILE.
283
as soone as the Porter the Carle see,
160 hee kneeled downe vpon his knee :
“Yonder beene 2 Knights of Arthurs in,1 [page45i]
& a Bishopp, no more to myn ;
they haue roden all day in the fforrest still,
164 that horsse [&] man 2 is like to spill;
they desire you ffor Arthirs sake, their Kmg, to grant them one nights Lodginge,
& herberrow till the day att Morne 168 that they may scape 3 away without scorne.”
“noe thing greeues4 me,” sayd the Carle without doubt,
“ but that they 5 'Knights stand soe long without.” w?’th that they 6 Porter opened the gates wyde,
172	& the Knights rode in that tyde.
their steeds into the stable are tane, the Knights into the hall are gone 7 : heere the Carle sate in his chaire on hye,
1.76 w^th his legg cast ouer the other knee ;
his mouth was wyde, & his beard was gray, his lockes on his shoulders lay; betweene his browes, certaine 180 itt was large there a spann,
w^th 2 great eyen brening as ffyer.
Lord ! hee was a Lodlye syer 8 ! ouer his sholders he bare9 a bread 184	3 taylors yards, as clarkes doe reade;
his ffingars were like to teddar stakes,10 & his hands like breads that wiues may bake ;
message to the Carle.
The Carle regrets that they have been kept so long waiting.
G-awaine &c. ride in,
go to the hall, and see the Carle,
a loathly man,
with fingers like stakes
and hands like leaves.
1	inne.—P.
2	horse & man.—P.
3	Madden again reads stape, and corrects to scape.—F.
4	Half the u left out in the MS.—F.
5	the.—P.
6	the.—P.
7	gane,—P.
8	a lodlye sire, i. e. filthy, p. 387.—P.
9	bore.—Madden.
,0 The stakes by wfo'ch the hair lines are fasten’d to the ground that are tied to the horses’ feet when they graze in open fields.—P. Madden reads tedder. —F.284
CAULE OFF CARLILE.
188
Gawaine salutes him courteously,
192
and the Carle welcomes them for Arthur’s sake, though*
Arthur and 195
he have long been foes.
200
204
They* go to the tables,
and see 4 whelps,
208
a bear, a boar, a bull,
and a lion. 212
50 Cubitts 1 be was in height;
LorcZ, he was a Lothesome wight! when Sir Gawaine that carle see, he halched 2 him ffull curteouslye,
& saith, “ carle of Carlile,3 god saue thee as thou sitteth in thy prosperitye ! ” the carle said, “ as christ 4 me sane,5 yee shall be welcome ffor Arthurs sake.
6	yet is itt not my -part to doe soe, ffor Arthur hath beene euer my ffoe ;
he hath beaten my 'Knights, & done them bale,
7	& send them wounded to my owne hall, yett the truth to tell I will not Leane,8
I haue quitt him the same againe.”
“ that is a kind of a knaue 9,” said Kay, “ without Leasing,
soe to reuile a Moble King.”
Gawaine heard, & made answere,
“ Kay, thou sayst more then meete weere.” with that they went ffurther into the hall, where bords were spredd, & couered with pall;
& 4 welpes of great Ire
they ffound Lying by the ffire.
there was a beare that did rome,10
& a bore that did whett his tushes 11 ffome,
alsoe a bull that did rore,
& a Lyon that did both gape & rore; the Lyon did both gape and gren.
“ O peace, whelpes! ” said the carle then :
1	ix. taylloris 3erdis.—Pork.
2	i. e. saluted.—P. Madden reads the MS. haltled, and corrects it to halsed. Hcdche is O. N. heilsa, Dan, hilsa, to salute, to cry hail to. Wedgwood.—P.
3	“ Callile, MS.,” says Madden:—P.
4	Madden reads cheif, and puts “ Crist?” in his note.:—F.
5	perhaps take.^—P.
6	y* et in MS.—P.
7	sent._p.
8	vid. p. 367, St. 45 [of MS.].—P. See Dr. Kobson’s note in Sir John Buthr above. Madden says “leave, MS.”—P.
9	Ac follows in the MS.—P.
10	Cp. the here to ramy. Pork.—F.
1! tusks.—Madden.—P.CAELE OFF CAELILE.
285
216
220
224
228
232
236
240
ffor that word that they carle 1 did speake,
the 4 whelpes ynder they bord 2 did creepe.
downe came a Lady ffaire & ffree,	a fair lady
seats herself
& sett her on the carles knee ;	°n p,e
Carle s knee,
one whiles shee harped, another whiles song, both of Paramours & louinge amonge.
“ well were that man,” said Gawaine, “ that ere were borne,
that might Lye with that Lady till day att morne.” “ that were great shame,” said the carle ffree,
“ that thou sholdest doe me such villanye.”3 “ S^r,” said Gawaine, “I sayd nought.”
and
Gawaine says her bedfellow will he a happy man.
The Carle
reproves
him.
no, man,” said the carle ; “ more thou thought.”
Then start) Kay to the fflore,	pfsto
d	the stable,
& said hee wold see how his palfrey fibre.4
both come & hay he fiound Lyand,
& the carles palfrey by his steed did stand. Kay tooke the carles palfrey by the necke, & soone hee thrust him out att the hecke5:
finds the Carle’s palfrey next to his,
turns it out,
thus Kay put the carles fiole out,
& on his backe he sett a clout.
then the carle himselfe hee stood there by,
and sayd, “ this buffett, man, thou shalt abuy.G ”
The carle raught £ay such a rapp	[page 452j
that backward he fiell filatt;
had itt not beene ffor a ffeald 7 of straw.
Kayes backe had gone in 2.8
then said Kay, “ & thow were without thy hold,
Man ! this buffett shold be deere sold.”
“ what,” sayd the carle, “ dost thou menace me ?
and gives it a clout.
The Carle
knocks Kay down.
Kay
threatens
him,
and he tells Kay
1	the Carle.—P.
2	the bord.—P.
3	Pork, substitutes a scene of the knights drinking, for this one of the lady; but describes the Carle’s wife at supper-time, p. 197 of Madden’s Syr Gawayne.—P.
4	i. e. fared, prat, inusitcit.—P.
5	i. e. Cratch, verb. Scot. Dr. Graingr. —P.
6	abye.—P. Madden reads aby.—F.
7	i. e. a truss of straw, Dr. GraingL-— P.
8	twa.—P.286
CAELE OFF CABLILE.
that if he says any more he’ll get more knocks.
Then the Bishop goes to look at his palfrey.
He finds the
Carle’s
there,
and turns it out
with a cut,
to go to the devil.
The Carle
knocks the Bishop over,
he cares nothing for mitre or ring.
Then
Cawaine
244 I swere by all soules sicerlye 1 !
Man ! I swere ffurther thore,2 if I beere any malice more,3 ffor this one word that thou hast spoken 248 itt is but ernest thou hast gotten.” then went Kay into the hall,
& the Bishopp to him can call, saith: Brother Kay, where yon hane beene ? ” 252	“ to Looke my palffrey, as I weene.4 ”
then said the Bishopp, “ itt ffalleth me that my palfrey I must see.” both corne & hay he ffound Lyand,
256	& the carles palffrey, as I vnderstand.
the Bishopp tooke the carles horsse by the necke, & soone hee thrust him out att the hecke ; thus he turned the carles ffole out,
260	& on his backe he sett a clout;
sais, “ wend forth, ffole, in the devills way ! who made thee soe bold w?’th my palfrey P ” the carle himselfe he stood there by :
264	“ man ! this buffett thou shalt abuy/1 ”
he hitt the Bishopp vpon the crowne,
* that his miter & he ffell downe.
“Mercy ! ” said the Bishopp, “ I am a clarke !
268 somewhatt I can of chr[i]sts werke.”
he saith, “ by the Clergye I sett nothing, nor yett by thy Miter nor by thy ringe.
It flitteth a clarke to be curteous & ffree,
272 by the conning 6 of his clergy.”
with that the Bishopp went into the hall,
& Sir Grawaine to him can call,
1	Madden reads sikerlye. - F.
2	tho.—P.
3	moe.—P.
4	als I ween, i.e. I also thinke, intend. Seel vid. infra 276.—P. As is
thus, like.—P.
5	abay, MS. says Madden.—P.
6	MS. coming.—P. cunning or conning.—P.CARLE OFF CARLILE.
287
saith, “ brother Bisbopp where haue you beene P ” 276 “to looke my palfrey, as I weene.”
then sayd Sir Gawaine, “ itt ffalleth mee that my palfreye I must needs, see.” corne & hay he ffound enoughe Lyand,
2«0	& the carles ffole by his did stand.
the carles hole had beene fforth in the raine ;
therof Sir Gawaine was not ffaine;
hee tooke his mantle that was of greene,
284	& couered the ffole, as I weene ;
sayth, “ stand vp, ffole, & eate thy meate ; thy Master payeth ffor all that wee heere gett.” they carle 1 himselfe stood thereby,
288	& thanked him of his curtesye ;
they carle 2 tooke Gawaine by the hand,
& both together in they hall they wend, the carles called ffor a bowle of wine,
292	& soone they settled them to dine ;
70 bowles 3 in that bowle were,— he was not weake that did itt beare,— then they 4 carle sett itt to his Chin,
296	& said, “ to you I will begin ! ”
15 gallons he dranke that tyde,
& raught to his men on euery side, then they 5 carle said to them anon,
300	“ Sirrs, to supper gett you gone ! ”
Gawaine answered the carle then,
“.Sir, att yo^r bidding we will be ben.G ”
“ if you be bayne att my bidding,
304 you honor me without Leasinge.” they washed all, & went to meate,
& dranke the wine that was soe sweete.
goes to see his palfrey.
He finds the Carle’s foal by it,
wet with rain. Gawaine covers the foal with his mantle
and tells it to eat away.
The Carle
thanks Gawaine, takes him in,
calls for a howl of wine,
and drinks 15 gallons at one draught.
Then they all have supper.
1 The Carle.—P.	4 the.—P.
2 The Carle.—P.	5 the.—P.
3 gallons?—Madden. Ordinary howls.—P.	6 haine.—P,288
carle off carlile.
After it, the Carle tells Gawaine to take a spear
and to mark him in his face.
Gawaine takes the spear,
charges at the Carle
(who dodges his head,)
runs the spear
into the wall, and breaks it off.
Then the
Carle
takes
Gawaine to his wife’s bed,
the carle said to Gawaine anon,
308	44 a long speare see thou take in thy hand,1
att the bnttrye dore take thon thy race,
& marke me well in middest the face.
“a ! ” thought2 Sir Kay, 44 that that were I!
312 then his buflett he shold deere abuy.3 ”
44 well,” q^o.th the carle,44 when thon wilt, thou may,4 when thon wilt thy strength assay.”—
44 well Sir,” said Kay, 441 said nought.”
316 “Noe,” said the carle, 44but more thon [page453] thought.”
then Gawaine was ffnll glad of that, .
& a long spere in his hand he gatt; att the buttery dore 5 he tooke his race,
320	& marked the carle in the middst the fiace.
the carle saw Sir Gawaine come in ire,
& cast his head vnder his speare,
Gawaine raught the wall such a rapp,
324 the flyer fflew out, & the speare brake ; he stroke a floote into the wall of stone, a bolder Barron was there neuer none.
44 soft,” said the carle, 44thow was to.radd.6 ”
328	44 1 did but, Sir, as you me bade.”
44 if thou had hitt me as thou had ment, thou had raught me a Sell dint.7 ” they carle tooke Gawaine by the hand,
332	& both into a Chamber they wend;
a flull fiaire bed there was spred, the carles wifle therin was laid :
1	hond.—P.
2	Ah! thought.—P.
3	MS. aluy. Madden reads a buy.— F. abuy or abye.—P.
4	then thou (yee) may.—P.
5	Madden reads the MS. doe.—F.
6	furious, 0. Fr. roide.—Skeat. Boide, rough, fierce, violent.—Cotgrave. A.S. hrced, swift, quick, rush.—F.
7 Pork. MS. puts G-awaine’s supper after this, and brings the Carle’s daughter in to harp and sing to them. She is prettily described, has the gold-wire hair so much admired in early times, and
Owyre alle be halle ganwe sche leme As hit were a sonwe-beme.
Madden’s Syr Gawayne, p. 199.—F.CARLE OFF CARLILE.
289
336
340
3 44
34 8
352
356
360
364
the carles said, “Gawaine, of curtesy e gett into this bedd W'&th this ffaire Ladye. kisse thou her 8s.e before mine eye ; looke thou doe no other villanye.” the carle opened the sheetes wyde ;
Gawaine gott in by the Laydes syde ;
Gawaine ouer her1 put his arme ;
W4*th that his fflesh began to warme :
Gawaine had thought to haue made in ffare,2 “ hold,” quoth. the carle, “ man, stopp there 3 ! itt were great shame,” q^oth they carle, “for me that thou sholdest doe me such villanye; but arise vp, Gawaine, & goe w^th me,
I shall bring thee to a ffairer Lady then euer was shee.”
they 4 carle tooke Gawaine by the hand ; 5 both into another Chamber they wend ; a ffaire bedd there found they spred, and the Carles daughter therin Laid : saith, “ Gawaine, now for thy curtesye gett thee to bedd to this ffaire Lady.” the carle opened the sheetes wyde,
S^r Gawaine gott in by the Ladyes side.
Gawaine put his arme ouer that sweet thing ;
“ sleepe, daughter,” sais the carle, “ on my blessing.” they carle turned his backe & went his way,
& lockt the dore wddi a siluer Kaye, on the other morning 6 when the carles rose, vnto his daughters chamber he goes :
“ rise vp, Sir Gawaine, & goe w^th mee, a maruelous sight I shall lett thee see.” they carle tooke him by the hand,
& both into another chamber they wend,
and bids him get in and kiss her,
but do
nothing
more.
Gawaine does so,
and thinks to do more,
but the Carle stops him,
and takes him to his daughter’s bed, and tells him
to get into it.
Gawaine does so,
and the Carle goes away, locking the door.
Next
morning
he calls Gawaine,
1 he—Madden.	5 Pork. MS. makes the Carle send his
2 free, q.—Pencil note.	daughter to Grawaine, ib. p. 201.—P.
3 MS. thee.—E.	4 the.—P.	6 In the next m.—P.
VOL. III.
Ü290
CARLE OFF CABLILE.
and shows him
bloody shirts
and 1500 dead men’s bones,
slain by him, the Carle.
Gawaine wants to take leave,
but the Carle makes him stop to dinner.
After it he shows Gawaine
a sword,
and begs him to cut his (the Carle’s) head
Gawaine
refuses,
whereupon
the Carle says he’ll cut his head off if he don’t do it.
So Gawaine cuts the Carle’s head off, and he
& there they found many 1 a bloody serke 368 which were wrought with curyous werke :
1500 dead mens bones 2
they found ypon a rooke 3 att once.
“alacke!” quoth Sir Gawaine, “ what haue beene here ? ”
372 saith, “ I & my welpes haue slaine all there.” then Sir Gawaine eurteous and kind,4 he tooke his leaue away to wend,
& thanked they carle & the Ladyes there,
376 right as they worthy were.
“nay,” said the carle, “wee will first dine,
& then thou shalt goe wi'th blessing mine.5 ” after dinner, the sooth to say,
380 the carle tooke Gawaine to a Chamber gay where were hanginge swords to we 6 ; the Carle soone tooke one of tho,
& sayd to the hinight then,
384	“ Gawaine, as thou art a man,
take this sword & stryke of my head.”
“May,” said Gawaine, “ I had rather be dead ; ffor I had rather suffer pine & woe 388 or euer I wold that deede doe.” the carle sayd to Sir Gawaine,
“ looke thou doe as I thee same,
& therof be not adread;
392 but shortly smite of my head, ffor if thou wilt not doe itt tyte, ffor-ssooth thy head I will of smyte.”
To the carle said Sm Gawaine,	[page 454]
396	“ Sir, jour bidding shall be done: ”
he stroke the head the body ffroe,,
& he stood vp a man thoe
1 One stroke too few in the MS.—F.	4 hencl, q.—Pencil note.
2 a bones, MS.—Madden. I think the	5 Only half the m in the MS. Madden
a is meant to be blotched out.—P.	reads mine too.—F.
3 i. e. a ruck, a heap.—P.	6 rowe.—Madden.CARLE OFF CARLILE.
291
of the height of Sir Gawaine,
400 the certaine soothe withonten Laine.
the carle sayd, “ Gawaine, god blese thee, ifor thou hast deliuered mee ! ffrom all ffalse witchcrafft1 404 I am deliuerd 2 att the Last;
by Migromance thus was I shapen till a 'Knight of the round table 3 had with a sword smitten 4 of my head,
408 if he had grace to doe that deede. itt is 40 winters agoe since I was transformed soe ; since then, none Lodged within this wooun,5 412 but I & my whelpes driuen them downe ;
& but if hee did my bidding soone,
I killed him & drew him downe, euery one but only thee.
416 Christ grant thee of his mercye !
he that the world made, reward thee this ! ffor all my bale thou hast turned to blisse. now will I leaue that Lawe ;
4 20 there shall no man ffor me 6 be slawe,
& I purpose ffor their sake a chantrey in this place to make,
& 5 preists to sing ffor aye 424 vntill itt be doomes day.
& Gawaine, for the loue of thee euery one shall bee welcome to me.”
Sir Gawaine & the young Lady clere,
428 the Bishopp weded7 them in ffere ;
stands up a proper man»
and thanks Gawaine for delivering him from the witchcraft
that 40 years ago transformed him, so to he till a Knight of the Round Table should cut his head
“ Christ reward you!
Henceforth I’ll kill no one;
but everybody shall be welcome to me.
The Bishop marries Gawaine and
1	? witchcrafts cast. Cast is the regular word for a magical contrivance, and the line is too short as it stands. Skeat.
2	Madden omits the d.—F.
3	I would read:
by Nigromance thus was I bound,
till a Knight of the table round.—Skeat.
4	MS. snitten.—F.
5	Madden reads woom, and notes woone ?—F.
6	i. e. thro’ me.—P.
7	wedded.—Madden.292
CARLE OFF CABLILE.
the Carle’s daughter.
The Carle gives Kay a blood-red steed, and
Gawaine’s lady a white palfrey.
Then he bids Gawaine go to Arthur
and ask him
to dine with him next day.
Gawaine goes singing with his lady,
and tells
Arthur
his
adventures.
Kay gives Arthur
the Carle’s invitation. Arthur and his company ride off,
the carle gaue him 1 for his wedding
a staffe, miter,2 & a ringe.
he gane Sir Kay, that angry 'Knight,
432 a blood red steede, & a wight.
he gane his daughter, the sooth to say,
an ambling white palfrey,
the ffairest hee was on the mold ;
436 her palfrey was charged w4th gold ; shee was soe gorgeous & soe gay, no man cold tell her array, the carle commanded S4r Gawaine to wend 3 440	& “ say vnto Arthur our King,
& pray him that hee wold— ffor his loue that Iudas sold,
& for his sake that in Bethelem was borne,— 444 that hee wold dine with him to morne.”
Sir Gawaine sayd the carle vijto,
“ fforssooth I shall jour message doe.” then they rode singing by the way 448 with the Ladye that was gay ;
they were as glad of that Lady bright as euer was ffowle of the day-Lyglit. they told King Arthur where they had beene, 452	& what aduentures they had seene.
“ I thanke god,” sayd the King, “ cozen Kay, that thou didst on liue 4 purt away.”
“Marry,” sayd Sir Kay againe,
456	“ of my liife 5 I may be ffaine.
ffor his loue that was in Bethlem borne, you must dine with the carle to-morne.” in the dawning of the day thé rode 6 ;
460 a merryer meeting was neuer made.
1	Sc. the bishop.—P.
2	a staff, a miter, &c.—rP.
3	wend rimes also with bringe, 1. 498. Skeat.
4	i.e. alive.—P. part = depart.—Skeat.
5	lifte, MS., says Madden.—P.
6	rade. qu.—P.CARLE OFF CABLILE.
293
464
468
472
476
480
when they together were mett, itt was a good thing, I yon hett; the trnmpetts plaid att the gate, with trnmpetts 1 of silner theratt 2 ; there [was] all manner of Minstrelsye, harpe, Gyttorne,3 and sowtrye. into the hall the King was ifett,4 & royallye in seat was sett, by then the dinner was readye dight, tables were conered 5 all on height; then to wash they wold not blinn,
& the ifeast they can beginn. there they were mached arright, enery Lady against a Knight;
And Minstrells sate in windowes ffaire, [page 455] & playd on their instruments cleere;
“ Minstrells ffor worshipp att enery messe ffnll Lowd they cry Largnesse 6 ! ” the carle bade the King “ doe gladlye, ffor heere yee gett great curtesye.” the King said “ by Saint Michaell this dinner Liketh me ffnll well.”
are received at the Carle’s
with sound of trumpet,
harp,
gittern, and psaltery ;
tables are laid,
and the feast begins,
minstrels playing the while.
Arthur likes his dinner,
he dnbd the carle a Knight anon,
484 he gane him the county of carlile soone, & made him Erie of all that Land,7 & after, Knight of the table round, the King said, “ Knight, I tell thee,
488 carlile 8 shall thy name bee.” when the dinner was all done, enery Knight tooke his leane soone,
knights the Carle, gives him Carlisle,
makes him an Earl, and a Knight of the Round Table, and christens him Carlisle.
After dinner the guests
1	trunnpetts MS.—F.
2	therott, MS., says Madden.—F.
3	gyttome, MS., says Madden.—F.
4	has fell, MS., says Madden.—F.
5	covered.—P. Pork, has a better de-
scription of the room and dinner, 1. 603-
24.—F.
6	Largesse.—P.
7	Loud.—P.
8	No knight of this name occurs in the French romances of the Pound Table, nor in the Morte d’Arthure of Malory. Madden’s Syr G., p. 348.—F.294		CARLE OFF CARLILE.
		to wend forward soberlye
go home.	492	home into their owne countrye.1
May God	496	he that made ys all with his hand, both the sea and the Land, grant ys all ffor his sake this ffalse world to fforsake, & out of this world when wee shall w*end,
bring our souls to		to heanens blisse our soules bringe !
heaven!		god grant ys grace itt may soe bee !
Amen I	500	Amen, say all, ifor Charitye !
		ffinis.
1 The Porkington MS. makes the towne of mery Carleyle . . for the men .Carle (according to his promise, 1. 422-3 pat he had slayne.”—F. above), found “ A ryche Abbey . . in the
[“ Off all the Seaesff printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, jp. 85, follows here in the MS. p. 455.]295
Hero: &: ^eantrer: \
Quid juvenis, magnum cui versat in ossibus ignem Durus amor ? Nempe abruptis turbata procellis Nocte natat cseca serus freta ; quern super ingens Porta tonat cceli et scopulis illisa reclamant iEquora; nec miseri possunt revocare parentes,
Nec moritura super crudeli funere virgo.
Virg. Georg. iii. 258-63.
This subject has been & favourite one with both ancient and modern writers. The eighteenth and nineteenth of Ovid’s Heroides deal with it. A famous poem was written oh it by Musseus:
ehre, 0ea, Kpvcpiew faipdprvpa XxjXvov epcoToov, teal wxiow TrXcoTrjpa, OaXao'o'OTrdpav vpeuaicoi/,
Kal ydpou axAvSevra, rby ovk Kdev dcpdiros ’Hcby,
/cal 27)(rrbif Ka\3/Afiv$op far) yapos eypvxos^Hpous.
When he lived is unknown; perhaps not before the fifth century of our era. His poem, discovered in the thirteenth century, became passing popular. It was translated again and again, into English by Chapman (the dead shepherd’s saw occurs in this translation:
“ Who ever loved that loved not at first sight ? ”),
Stapylton, Stirling, and many others; into German by Stolberg, Passow &c.; into French by Marot; into Italian by Bernardo Tasso, Bettoni &c. (see Smith’s Biog. Diet. &c.) The story it told was retold in other shapes, and amongst them in the shape of a ballad as here.
This version is, as the Bishop remarks, u tollerably regular.” It cannot indeed lay claim to any plenary inspiration ; it is
A Poem tollerably (so) regular,—P.296
HERO AND LEANDER.
evidently the production of a sort of poetical shopkeeper who could serve his customers with whatever amount of verses they wanted, well measured and carefully weighed, on any subject— of one who executed poetical orders.
Eeferences to the touching story lie thick in literature, from the mention of “ The Amours of Hero and Leander,” in the Complaint of Scotland, to Kosalind’s mocking revision of it in As You Like It: “ Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, though Hero had turn’d nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and being taken with the cramp, was drowned; and the foolish coroners of that age found it was 6 Hero of Sestos.’ ”
In recent times Hood and Turner have, each in his own way, illumined and glorified the old tragedy.
Once were		TOW : ffamous loners once there was,
two lovers,		whome fame hath quite fforgott, who liued long most constantlye
	4	without all ennions blott. shee was most ffaire, & hee most true, which caused that that did ensue : ffa : la : la :
whose story		whose story I doe meane to write,
I’ll tell you.	8	and title itt trueloues delight: fa: la: la :
Leander and		Leander was this young mans name, [page 456] right noble by discent,
Hero.		& hero, shee, whose bewtyes rare
	12	might giue Loue great content, hee att Abydos kept his court, shee att cestos liued in sport, fa : la : la.
The Helles-		a riuer great did part these twaine,—
pont separated	16	which caused them oft, poore soules, complaine
them,		fa : la : la :—HERO AND LEANDER.
297
Euen Hellespont, whose current streame like lightning swift did glyde ; accursed riuer thaï 2 harts 20 soe fíaithfull must1 devyde !
And more, which. did augment their woe, the parents were eche others ffoe, fa : la : la : soe thaï no shipp durst him conuay 24 ynto the place where his Hero Lay, ffa : la : la :
Long time these louers did complaine the Misse of their desires, not knowing how thé 2 might obtaine 28 the thing they did require.
though hee were parted w¿th rough seas, no watters cold loues fílame appease, fa : la : la Leander ventured for to swim 32 to Hero, who well welcomed him, fa : la : la :
Euen in the midst of darkesome 3 night when all things silent were, wold young Leander take his fflight 36 throug[h] Hellespont soe cleere ; wher att4 the shore Hero wold bee to welcome him most Louinglye, fa : la :
& soe Leander wold conuay 40 vnto the Chamber where shee Lay, fa : la :
Thus many dayes thé did enioye the fruité of their delight, for he oft to his Hero came,
44	& backe againe same night ;
And shee for to encourage him
through Hellespont more boldlye swim,5 fa : la :
In her tap 6 tower a lampe did place,
48 wherby he might behold her fíace, fa : la :
1 MS. nnust.—F.	4 MS. wheratt.—F.
2 they.—P,	5 ? MS. siarin.—F.
3 MS. darkesone.—F.	6 high : taper, qu.—1
and their parents were enemies.
For a long time the lovers could not meet.
At last, Leander swam
at night
across the Hellespont,
and Hero took him
to her room.
To help him swim,
she used to put a lamp in her tower,
top.—F.298
HERO ÄND LEANDER.
and sit by it,
praying for her love.
Winter came with its storms,
but these did not stop Leander.
He leapt into the Hellespont,
but could not reach land, his lover’s lamp was out.
His body was cast ashore.
And by this lampe wold Hero sitt, still pray[i]ng for ber lone, that tbe rough watters vnto him 52 might not offensiue proue :
“ be mild,” q^oth shee, “ while he doth swim, & that I haue well welcomed him, fa : [la :]
& then euer rage & rore amaine,
56 that he may neuer goe hence againe, fa: la :
Now boisterous winter hasted on, when winds & watters rage ; yett cold itt not the Lustffull hart 60 of this younge youth as wage ; though winds & watters raged soe, no shipp durst venter for to goe : fa : [la :] Leander wold goe see his loue,
64 his manly armes in ffioods to proue fa : la:
Then leapt hee into Hellespont,
•desirous for to goe vnto the place of his delight,
68 which hee affected soe ;
but winds & waues did him withstand soe that he cold attaine no Land, fa : la: la : ffor his loues lampe [he] looked about;
72 ffaire Hero slept, & itt was out. fa : la: la :
Then all in vaine Leander stroue till armes cold doe no more; for naked, he, depriued of liffe,
76 was cast vpon the shore.
0 had the Lampe still stayed in,
Leander liueles had not beene : fa: la : la: which being gone, he knew no ground,
80 because thick darknesse did abound, fa : la laHERO AND LEANDER.
299
When Hero ffaire awaket from sleepe,	[page 457j
& saw her lampe was gone, her sences all benumed were,
84	& shee like to a stone.
0 ! ffrom her eyes, then perles more Cleere, fa: la : proceeded many a dolefull teare, perswading 1 that the angry flood 88 had drunke Leanders gniltlesse bloode, fa : la :
Then to the topp of highest tower faire hero did ascend, to see how the winds did with the wanes 92	for mastershipp contend,
& on the sand shee did espye a naked bodye linelesse lye, fa : la:
& lookeing more vpont, shee knew 96 itt was Leanders blondlye hew. fa : la :
Then did shee teare her golden haire,
& in her greene thus sayd, a accnrsed riuer ! that art still 100	a foe to enery maide
since Hellen ffaire in thee was drowned, named Hellespont, that ener ffround, fa : la :
& now to see what thon canst doe,
104 thon hast made me a monrner too ! fa: la : la:
“ Bnt thongh thon didst attach my lone,
& tookest him ffor thy owne, that hee was only es2 Heroes deere,
108	hencforth itt shall be knowne.”
then ffrom the tower faire Hero Hell, whose woefnll death I sighe to tell, fa:" la: and on his body there did dye 112 that loned her most tenderlye, fa : la:
Hero awoke and found her lamp out.
She wept,
fearing
Leander’fc
fate.
She saw his corpse on the sand.
She tore her hair,
cursed the Hellespont,
and fell from her tower,
on Leander’s body, and died.
perswaded.—Skeat.
? for only his, or onlye without the s.—F.300
HERO AND LEANDER.
May true lovers now have better ends!
Thus endeth both they 1 liffe & loue in prime 2 of their young yeeres, since whose untimely ifuneralls 116 no such true loue appeares. vntill more constant loue arise, their names I will imupetelasze,3 fa : la:
& heauen [grant] such as liaue 4 true ffriends, 120 as ffaithffull harts, but better ends ! ffinis.
1 their.—P.	2 MS. prine.—F.
3	qu. MS.—F. himpettelaze, corruptly written for immortalize.—P.
4	grant such.—P.301
Crtsftug: 1
Boccaccio, Chaucer, and Shakespeare have all taken in hand the story of Troilus and Cressida—an episode of the Trojan war not mentioned by Homer or any other extant ancient writer, but first narrated by Guido de Colonna in the thirteenth century. “ In the royal [now imperial] library of Paris,” says Warton, “it occurs often as an ancient French romance. ‘Cod. 7546, Roman de Troilus;9 ‘ Cod. 7564, Roman de Troilus et de Briseida ou Creseida.’99 Chaucer, as is well known, in his narrative refers to “ myn auctor Lollius;99 but who this Lollius was is a question of much difficulty. Manifestly, the tale was extremely popular, and found its way into many different languages and forms.
Warton notices in the Begister of the Stationers’ Company “ A ballet intituled the History of Troilus whose troth2 had well been tryed,99 licensed to P-urfoote in 1565, and again in 1581,3 and in 1608.
The following piece gives a summary of the old tale, with the moral of it.
Cressus: was the ffairest of Troye, whom Troylus did lone ! the Knight was kind, & shee was coy,
4 no words nor worthes 4 cold mone, till Pindaurus 5 soe playd his part that the 'Knight obtained her hart,
Troilus
could not win Cressid, till
Pandarus helped him.
1	It sir? be Cresside, see Chancer & Collier. Beg. Sta, Comp. vol. i.p. 121.—F.
Shakespear.—P.	8 Collier, vol. ii. p. 146.—F.
2 Warton’s correction of “ throtes.” 4 worth.—P.	6 Pandarus.—P.302
CRESSUS.
When the Trojans lost,
Cressid
loved
Diomede.
So lasses, learn
that* one love cloys ;
change it then,
like your clothes, and take the best.
tlie Ladyes rose destroyes :
8 [They] held sweet warr a winters night till the enuyons day gaue light; wMch darkness 1 loners ioyes.
Cresses 2 lone lones mother 3 crost,
12 fforetold her in a dreame
how Grrecyans 4 won, how Troians Lost.
ffalse lone ffleetes W'tth the streame:
Shee sweete ffaces, yallyant Sights,
10 who pnt downe the Troian knights,
downe might their Ladyes pnt. dioned 5 thonght her noe mayd, yett lones debt was richely paid,
20	the seas the poorest cntt.
Lasses, learne some witt by this !
though Ladyes trnth proffesse, no signe remaines of ynseen kisse 24	ynlesse a ffoole conffesse,
what pleased to-day, to-morrow cloyes;
Ioy growes dnll that still enioyes ;
change lone, for lones sweet sake.
28 now hopes pleased 6 with pleasure strange ; then chang lone, wSh garments change,
& still the better take.
ffinis.
darkens.—P.	4 Grecians.—P.
Cresside’s.—P.	5 Diomede.—P.
Love’s-motlier.—P.	6 new hopes please.—Skeat.303
4}	[page 458]
This song is in Westminster Drollery, Part II. 1672, p. 64, under the title of “The hunting of the Gods.” After two long searches through the Museum Catalogues, only Part I. of that work, dated 1671, could be found. Recourse was therefore had to Mr. Lilly, of New Street, Co vent Garden, to whose kind help so many editors and writers have been indebted, and he at once produced from his stores a copy of Part II., and allowed Mr. Furnivall to collate the Folio proof with it. We thank him for his courtesy, and wish his example was followed by all noble and gentle owners of rare books and MSS. in England. But, alas, among the fair flock of collectors is more than one black sheep.
This piece, as Percy notes, occurs also in the Collection of Olcl Ballads, and is there, too, entitled “ The Hunting of the Gods.” The copy is much freer from gross blunders than that of the Folio, but is not altogether satisfactory; e. g. it loses the rime to Olympical, reads course for courser.
An elaborate collation of the Old Ballads copy with the Folio one, which differs much from it, had been made for us by Mr. Brock before we found out Mr. Lilly; but this has now been put aside in favour of the collation with the earlier Drollery copy. In the O.B. copy which Mr. Brock used, the order of the stanzas differs from that of the Folio and Westminster Drollery, the first four and the last coincide, but the others vary thus :—
1 In the printed Collection of old Ballads 12mo vol. 3. pag. 198, N. 36.—P.304:
SONGS OF SHEPARDES.
Stanza 5 of MS. and W.D. is stanza 9 of OJ3.
» 6 „ „8 „
«	7	„6	„
»	8	„5	„
„	9	„7	„
The gods, ennuyés, tired of lying beside their nectar, sick of their “ securum sevum/’ envious of the sports of men, resolve on a sort of divine “ meet.” They have a day with the harriers. The shepherds wonder what this strange venery means.
The piece illustrates the passionate attachment with which hare-hunting was regarded in the old pre-foxchasing days.1 It was an attachment of long standing. In the Squire of Low Degree, when the king’s daughter of Hungary in her forlornness cries out on this* world’s vanity, and bids adieu to all that was held most precious, she concludes :
Farewell hawkes and farewell liounde ;
Farewell markes and many a pounde ;
Farewell huntynge at the hare ;
Farewell harte and hynde for evermare.
There are other copies, as Mr. Chappell points out, in Wit and Drollery (1682), Pills to purge Melancholy (1707), and Dryden’s Miscellany Poems.
SONGrS: of shepards,2 rusticall roitndelayes fframed on 3 ffancyes,2 whistled on reeds, songs4 to solace yonng ISTimphes vpon holydayes,
4 are to 5 unworthy ffor wonderffull deeds.
Phebus Aeminius 6 or worthy Cylen[i]us,7 his lofty Genius 8 may seem to declare In verse better coyned, or verse 9 more refined,
8 how states 10 diuined11 once hunted 12 the hare.
1	See pages 320-1 of Chappell’s Popic- 6 Ingenious.—W.D. ingenious.—P.
lar Music.—F.	7 winged Cylenius.—W.D. witty Cyl-
2 Westminster Drollery inserts ‘ and.’	lenius.—P.	8 MS. eenius.—F.
—F.	3 Form’d of.—W.D. 9 And voice.—W.D.	10 stars.—P.
4 Sung.—W.D.	11 devin’d.—W.D. divine.—W. Chap-
5 too.—W.D. too.—P.	pell.	12 the hunting.—P.
Songs of shepherds
are not worthy to tell
how the Gods hunted the hare.SONGS OF SHEPARDES.
305
Sharres inamoured w^th pastimes Olimpicall, stares & planetts that bewtiffull sliowne, wold noe longer that eartblye men only shall1 12 swim in pleasures, & they but looke on.
Round about horned Lucina thé 2 swarmed,
& her informed how minded they were,
Eche god & goddesse, to take humane bodyes,
10 as Lords & Ladyes, to ffollow the hare.
chast dyana aplauded' the motyon,
wd)h 3 pale proserpina sate in her place,
Lights 4 the welkin & gouernes the Ocean 20 whilest5 shee conducted her nephews in chase, & by her example 6 her ffavour7 to trample the cold & ample 8 earth, leaueth the 9 ayre, Neptune the watter, the wind 10 liber pater,
24	& Mars the slaughter, to ffollow the hare.
Light young 11 Oupid, horsset 12 vpon Pegasus, borrowed of Muses w^th Kisses and prayers ; strong Alcydes vpon cloudye Caucasus 28 mounts a Centaure that proudly e him bear es ; Postylyon of the skye, light heeld 13 Mercurye, makes 14 his courser ffly as Slight as the 15 ayre ; yellow Appollo the Kenell doth ffollow,
32 wAh 16 whoope and hallow after the hare.
Hymen vshers the Ladyes : Astrea
the 17 iust tooke hands wAh Minerua the bold,
1	should.—P.
2	they.—W.D. they.—P.
8 And.—W.D. And.—P.
4	"Which lightsi—P.
5	while.—"W.D.
6	and, qu.—P.
7	Father.—W.D.
8	The Earth old & ample.—P.
9	leave.—W.D. leave they the.—P.
10	Wine.—W.D. win.
11	god.—W.D.
12	was hors’d.—W.D.
13	footed.—P.
14	maketh : Conj.—P.
15	fly Fleet as the.— the.—P.
16	and.—W.D.
17	that, qu.—P.
The stars and planets
told the moon that they meant to take
human form, and hunt the hare.
Diana,
Proserpine,
Neptune, and Mars join in the hunt,
with Cupid,
Alcides,
Mercury,
Apollo,
Astrea,
Minerva,
P.
W.D. fleet as
VOL. III.
X306
SONGS OF SHEPAKDES.
Ceres,
Thetis,
Aurora,
Maya,
Juno,
Ceres the browne w^th the 1 bright Cyther[e]a,2 36 Thetis 3 the wanton, Bellona the old,4 shame-ffast 5 Aurora, w^th suttle Pandora,
& May 6 with fflora did company 7 heare ; luno 8 was stated too hye to be mated,
40 but,9 0 10 shee hated not hunting the hare.
Narcissus,
Somnus,
Mulciber,
Pan.
JEolus,
Momus.
drowned Narssissus ffrom his Metamorphisis raised w^'th 11 Eccho, new manhoode did take ; snoring Somnus vpstarted in cinaris,12 44 that this 13 1000d yeeres 14 was not awake, to see clubffooted old Mulciber booted,
& Pan promoted on Aeolus 15 mare ; proud HDolous 16 pouted, proud17 Aeolus 18 shouted; 48	& Momus fflowted, but hollowed the bare.
The hounds give tongue, the hunters sound their horns.
52
We
shepherds told our	5Q
fancies about the hunt:
deepe Melampus & cuning Ignobytes,19 Nappy,20 & tigre, & harpye, the s[k]yes 21 rends wrfch 22 roring, whilest hunter like23 Hercules sounds they 24 plentiffull home to their cryes.
25 [Till with varieties To solace their Pieties The wary Deities Repos’d them where] wee shepards weare seated, the whilest 26 wee repeated what wee conceited of their hunting the hare.
1	W.D. omits the.—F.
2	Cytherea.—P.
3	With Thetis.—W.D.
4	doth hold. Sic legerim.—P.
6	Shamefac’t.—W.D.
6	Maya.—P. May.—W.D.
7	MS. campany.—P.
8 But Juno.—P.	9 Altho’.—P.
10	yet.—W.D.
11	Rowzed by.—P. Rais’d by.—W.D.
12	Cimmeris.—P. Cineris.—W D.
13	The which.—P.
14	thousand year.—W.D.
15	Chirons.—W.D.
16. Pallas.—P. Paunus.—W.D.
17	and.—W.D.
18	and JEolus.—P.
19	fortunate Lselaps.—P. Ichnobates —W.D.
20	Jowler.—P. Nape.—W.D.
21	Harper, the skies.—P.
22	Rent with.—W.D.
23	huntsman-like.—W.D.
24	Winds the.—W.D.
25	Percy inserts here from Old Ballads :
Till with varieties To solace their deities,
Their weary Pieties refreshed were.
W.D. has the variations of the text above, and the two lines are printed as four.—F.
26 And there.—W.D.	Line 65 is written as two lines in the MS.—P.SOiNGS OF SHEPARD ES.
307
yooung Amyntas supposed the gods came to breathe, Amyntas after some battell,1 themselues on the ground;
Thirsis thought they starres2 came to dwell here beneath, Thyr'sis his, 60	& that herafter they 3 world wold goe round ;
Corydon aged, w^th Phillis engaged,
was much inraged wHh iealous dispayre, but ffeare 4 rewarded,5 & heawas perswaded,	and 1 told
64 when I thus aplauded their hunting the hare :	mine‘
68
72
“ sfcarres6 but shadowes where,7 states8 were but sorrow, “ stars are
shadows,
that9 noe 10 motyon, nor that no delight11;	gods no^
Ioyes are Iouyall, delight is the Marrow of liffe, & action the apple 12 of light13 ; pleasure d[e]pends vpon no other ends,14 but15 ffreely lends to eche vertue a share;
only is mesure 16 the Iewell of treasure 17 ;	the treasure
^	_	of pleasure
of pleasure the treasure is 18 hunting the hare,” is hunting
tli6 hare.
76
■80
ffowre 19 broad bowles to the Olimpicall rector
that20 Troy borne 3i Egle does bring22 on his knee ! tone to Pheobus Garrouses in nector,
And he to Hermes, & Hermes to mee,	[page 459j
where-wAh infused, I pipet23 & I mused in verse 24 vnused, this sport25 to declare,
O 26 that the rouse of loue, round as his spheere may moue,
helth to all that lone hunting the hare!
ffinis, '
It has inspired me to write thus.
Here’s health to all who love hunting the hare!
* battels.—W.D. 2 the stars.—W.D. 8 the—W.D. 4 fury was faded,—P.
5	fury vaded.—W.D,
6	Starr’s.—W.D.
7	were,—W.D. were: Joys.—P.
s state,—W.D.	9 Had they.—W.D.
10	they without.—P.
11	these wanting Delight.—P.
12	axle.—W.D. 13 axle of might.—P.
14 friends.—W.D.	15 And yet.—W.D.
,(i As measures,—W,D,
17	pleasures.—W.D.
Alone is pleasure
The measure of treasure.—P.
18	treasures of.—W.D.
1V Three.—W.D.	2« His—W.D.
21	Boy presents.—P.
22	he brings.—W.D.
23 I pip’d.—W.D.	21 songs.—W.D.
23 their sports.—P.	25 And.—W.D.
[The folloioing pieces, printed m ho. and Hum. Songs, pp, 87-101, folloiu here in the MS. (pp. 450-68) .* “ Loners hea[r\he alarum” “ A freinde ofmine ” “ 0 nay, 0 nay, not yett” u I cannot lee contented “ Lillnmwham” The Sea-crabb” a Last night I thought308
€f)t Eautm'au attire.1
“ Mr. Thorpe, the enterprising tfookseller of Bedford Street,59 says Mr. Collier in a note in his History of Dramatic Poetry, “ is in possession of a MS. full of songs and poems, in the handwriting of a, person of the name of Bichard Jackson, all copied prior to the year 1631, and including many unpublished pieces by a variety of celebrated poets. One of the most curious is a song in five seven-line stanzas thus headed: * Shakespeare’s Eime which he made at the Mytrein Fleete Streete.’ It begins, ‘ From the rich Lavinian Shore,9 and some few of the lines were published by Playford and set as a catch.99
Mr. Thoms (see Anecdotes and Traditions, printed for the Camden Society) and Dr. Bimbault (in an article in Notes and Queries, May 13, 1854) apparently accept this heading as a sufficient proof that the piece is verily written by Shakespeare. We certainly cannot so accept it.
Dr. Bimbault gives an interesting version from a MS. collection of songs formerly in possession of J. S. Smith, editor of Musica Antiqua.
Prom the fair Lauinian shore I your markets come to store,
Marvel not I thus far dwell And hither bring my wares to Sell,
Such is the sacred hunger of gold,
Then come to my pack While I cry
What d’ ye lack ?
What d’ ye buy ?
Por here it is to be sold.
1 One stanza of this is in Wilson’s Cheerefull Ayres (1660) p. 3,—P.THE LAUINIAN SHORE.
309
,	,	X have beauty, honour, grace,
Virtue, favour, time, and space,
And what else thou wouldst request,
E’en the thing thou likest best.
First, let me have but a touch of thy gold.
Then come too, lad,
Thou shalt have What thy lust never gave,
For here it is to be sold.
Though thy gentry be but young,
As the flower that this day sprung,
And thy father thee before Never arms nor scutcheon bore.
First let me have but a catch of thy gold,
Then though thou be an ass,
By this light Thou shalt pass For a knight.
For here it is to be sold.
Thou whose obscure birth so base Banks among the ignoble race,
And desireth that thy name Unto honour should obtain.
First, etc.
Madam, come, see what you lack,
Here’s complexion in my pack,
White and red you may have in this place,
To hide an old ill-wrinkled face.
First, let me have but a catch of thy gold,
Then thou shalt seem Like a wench of fifteen,
Although you be three-score and ten years old.
Other less perfect copies are, he points out, to he found in Playford’s Select Ayres and Dialogues (1659), Dr. Wilson’s Gheerefull Ayres and Ballads (1660), in Playford’s Catch that Catch Can (1667). The first stanza is given as “'set” by Dr. Wilson in Playford’s Musical Companion (1673).
A remarkable writer in the Athenceum9 quoted by Dr. Bim-bault, says the “ rime is a merely clumsy adaptation from Ben’s interesting epigram ‘ Inviting a Friend to Supper.’ ” This gentleman had certainly not read both poems.310
THE LAUINIAN SHORE.
The speaker in the piece is a sort of superior hawker. His stock consists not of such material blessings as Autolycus vended at the sheep-shearing in the Winter's Tale—lawn, and gloves, and bracelets, and pins—or as were proffered to the London Lackpenny strolling through the Chepe and Canwyke Street, but of far subtler wares. . He sells Success in Love, Eank, Kepu-tation, Health-restoratives. There is nothing in the world that he does not sell, except Wit and Honesty. These cannot be bought and sold. Otherwise he is an universal outfitter. The satire in the third and fourth stanzas is directed, no doubt, at the venality of the court of James I. and especially at the selling of knighthood countenanced and practised by that disreputable monarch. But as was the court so was the country. Dives was successful everywhere. He could never bear a bad character; he could never be u refused ” as a lover; he was always a gentleman born. Riches made the man. An ever-old, an ever-new subject for the satirist. The worship of Plutus never ceases. His temple is never uncrowded.
Yincant divitise, sacro ne cedat honori,
Nuper in hanc nrbem pedibns qui venerat albis;
Quandoquidem inter nos sahcfcissima divitiarum
Majestas, etsi funesta peeunia templo
bTondum habitas, nullas nummorum ereximns aras.
This famous chapman, himself urged on, as he confesses, by c auri sacra fames ’ (v. 5), comes from far-away Italy—from Lavinia littora (v. 1. Compare, in D’Urfev’s Pills to purge Melancholy,
A gentle breeze from the Lavinian shore Was gliding o’er the coast of Sicily.)
Did Italy already in the earlier years of the seventeenth century bear that ill name that was affixed to it in the eighteenth and is but now perhaps being removed from it ? Was it even then regarded as the cradle and nursery of impostors and charlatans? And were these, its miserable offspring, already overrunning other countries and England ? The “ GrraeculusTHE LAUINIAN SHORE.
311
esuriens ” whom Juvenal described with such sarcasm, as ready to turn his hand to anything and everything, to turn
Grammaticus, rhetor, geometres, pictor, aliptes,
Augur, schcenobates, medicus, magus,
was but a type of what his own countryman became in later times.
ffitOM the rich1 Lauinian shore I ycmr markett2 come to store, muse not yon I soe farr 3 dwell,
[&] hither 4 come my warres to sell;5
Snch is they 6 Sacred hunger of gold, come 7 to my packe ! will yon bny 8 what yon 9 lacker 10
what yon lacke,11 heare shall yon haue 12 to be sold.
I come from far
to sell my wares.
Buy wliat you lack!
8
12
yon whose ffortune young denyes 13	You unsuc-
€GSSful
grace in jour beloned 14 eyes ;	lovers,
thou thy lones, vowes, or deserts 15 nought preuaile in womans harts ;
soe be ycmr palmes anointed with gold iG	bring me
come to me then! when, gentlemen, will yon bny P17
loue, lone, is heere to be sold.
and I’ll sell you love.
yon, whose birth obscure & base 16 rankes yon with ignoble 18 race ;
You base-born men
1	faire.—Wilson’s Ayres.
2	Markets.—W.A.
3	though so farr I.—W.A.
4	and hither.—P.
5	and my wares come here to sell. —W.A.
6	the.—P.
7	then come.—W.A,
8	while I cry.—W.A.
9	d’ye.—W.A.
10	What you lacke is here to he sold.
—P.
n what d’ye buy.—W.A.
12	for here it is.—W.A*
13	you, whom Fortune’s Wrong denies.
—P.
14	beloved’s.—P.
13 Por all your loves, vows, &c.—P.
16	Unless their palms be (I wd. read). —P.
17	“ Come to me then, will you buy Gent11..
“ Geni love &c.—P.
18	of ignoble.—P.312
THE LAUINIAN SHORE.
who are ambitious,
bring me gold,
and I’ll sell you a place.
hope, ambityon, byer striiies ffor jour seines & ffor jour wines ;
well then, snpply tby deffects w^th thy gold ;
20 come for tby race, care not tbon for a place, for a place,
for a place is beare to be sold.
You
parvenus
whose fathers had no arms,
bring me gold,
and I’ll sell you
heraldry.
Tbongb tby gentry be as yonnge as tbe blower that tbis day spronge,
24 tbongb tby ffatber tbee before nener sbeild nor scncbyon bore :
canst bind in tby [heart] 1 for to part with tby • gold ?
come to me, lad, tbon sbalt bane wbat tby dad nener bad:
28 beeres Heraldrye to be sold.
You
defamed, deficient in body or mind,
bring me gold, and I’ll sell you fame and perfection.
Hatb blind ffortnne bnrt tby ffame, or ynkind natnre bnrt tby fframe ? bart,2 nor mind, nor body, partes,
32 strong3 proportion, or deserts P
well tben snpply tby defects wttb tby gold ; come to me tben ! bny tby fame ; come 4 againo ! bny tby frame ; ffor botb are beare to be sold.
But you dullards,
and scorn ers,
whatever gold 3rou bring,
36 Bnt dnll cbapemen, tbey dispise my ricb ffairings to be wise ; tbey whose bnmors 5 still doth 6 scorne trnth,7 and trickes & toyes adorne ;
* 40 If yon doe come with Millyons of gold, Seeke ffnrther yet in my stall;
I can sell you neither wit nor honesty.
there is witt none att all, nor honesty, to be sold.
ffinis.
1 in thy heart.—P.	4 MS. cone.—P. come.—P.
2 Hast.—P.	5 MS. hnnors.—P.
3 strength.—P.	6 do.—P.	7 those whom.«—P.313
Came mp tiauttp hopeps.1	[page 464]
This piece praises the joys of a gypsy’s life. It prefers tents to homesteads, picking and stealing to honest labour, complete looseness to any sort of restraint.
The word “ doxy ” Nares defines to mean “ a mistress.” “ Coles has it a ‘ doxy meritrix ’ . . . For the use of it among the beggars, see Beaumont and Fletcher in the Beggar’s Bush, Act ii. 1.” “Dill ” is much the same as dilling, which is probably, as Nares suggests, much the same as darling. “ Minshew explains it a wanton, but there is nothing in its origin to convey that meaning, even if with him we derived it from diligo . . .
To make up a match with my eldest daughter, my wife’s dilling, whom she longs to call madam.’ Eastw. Hoe. 0. PI. iv. 206.”
COME: my dainty doxeys, my dills, my deares !
we haue neither house nor land, yet nener want good cheere;
4 wee take no care far candle, rents ; wee sleepe, we snort, we snore, in tents.
Come my clears!
Tho’ we’ve no houses
we live in tents.
Then rouse betime, & steale our dinners;	Go and steal
our store is neuer taken without pigg or bacon,
8	& thats good meate ffor sinners.
Att wakes & ffaires we cozen poore cuntry folkes by the dozen ; if one haue money, he disbursses,
12 while some tell fortune, some 2 picke pursses.
Cheat the countryfolk at fairs.
1 A Gypsy’s Song.—P.
2 MS. sone.—F.314
COME MY DAINTY BOXEYS,
For practice, steal boots,
smocks, or anything !
Come and live with, us, all who love their ease! Gipsies get drunk when they please,
laugh, and steal.
rather then line ont of vse,
steale hose or garters, bootes or shooes,
boots, guilded spnrres with ingling 1 rowells,
16 shirts or smockes, napkins or towells.
come line with vs, come line with vs, all yon that lone you? eases! he fkats a Gripsey, may be drnnke & tipsey 20 att what honre he pleases ! .
wee langh, wee qnafie, wee rore, we shnffle, wee filch, wee steale, wee drab, wee scknffle !
ffinis.
1 perhaps jingling.—P.315
Co t (Sfyffor&e t
This song is said to have been composed by some contemporary Cambridge wit on the occasion of James I.’s visit to Oxford in 1605. No doubt the whole affair—the speechifying, the playacting, the “ quapstiones ”—was absurd enough ; and the keen eyes of certain members of the sister university who were present observed and recognised abroad absurdities which might have passed unnoticed if perpetrated at home. Indeed, the spectacle of the universities scraping and bowing before a royal visitation— a spectacle they presented at every possible opportunity—is highly ludicrous. They poured forth Latin verses to a prodigious extent:
The hall was hung with verses thick,
A goodly sight to see,
For every one was willed to make Verses in his degree.
To their trade some had made Verses called Asclepiad.
Here might you find, of every kind,
Verses fitting to your mind;
Here a Hexameter, there a Pentameter,
Sapphics and Scazons too.
They overflowed with Latin orations. In a word, their book-wormships exhausted all the powers of hyperbole and adulation.
A full and very amusing account of the visit to Oxford here referred to, is quoted by Nichols in his Progresses of James /. (i. 530-59) from Harl. MS. 7044, fol. 201. This, as is stated by a note in the MS. in the handwriting of Baker, to whom the * MS. once belonged, was written by one Stringer, a bedell at Cambridge in 1589, and subsequently a holder of other important university posts. It fully illustrates the following squib: e. g.316
TO OXFFORDE.
as to v. 9 : “they presented to his Majesty,” he says, “ a Greek Testament in Folio washed and ruled, and two pair of Oxford gloves with a deep fringe of gold, the turneovers being wrought with pearle. They cost, as I was informed, 61. a pair,” &c.
Anthony a Wood in his Annals, under 1614, speaking of the King’s visit to Cambridge in that year, says (a/pud Nichols 1. c. note) : “ It must be now noted that when King James was entertained at Oxford in 1605, divers Cambridge scholars went thither out of novelty to see and hear; yet, if anything had been done amiss, they were resolved to represent it to the worst advantage. Some therefore that pretended to be wits made copies of verses on that solemnity, among which I have met with one that runs thus :
To Oxenford the King is gone With all his mighty Peers,
That hath in grace maintained ns These four or five long years.
Such a king as he hath been ' As the like was never seen.
Knights did ride by his side Evermore to be his guide :
A thousand knights, and forty thousand knights,
Knights of forty pound a year.
Some have said that it was made by one — Lake, but how true I know not.”
The piece, then, was composed for the benefit of the Combination Dooms of Cambridge, or what equivalent institutions there were in the beginning of the seventeenth century, and, we may be sure, was received with much laughter there by the Dons of the Stuart times.
The King’s gone to Oxford to see the sights. '
To : Oxford the King is gone wfik all his pompons grace, to vew the sights & see the learning 4 of thai ffamons place,317
TO OXFFOBDE.
where clownes of the towne— clothed in their scarlett gownes— gaue the King such a thing 8 as passes all imageninge ;
a paire of gloues, to testify e their lones which, to the King they bore.
They gane him a payre of glones 12 of stiffe & strong staggs lether ;
I say, a payre of hunting gloues to keepe out wind and wheather.
Some relate they gaue him plate,
16	& a purse stufft full w^th gold :
“ sure,” said I, “ thats a lye ! ” as soone as ere I heard itt told, ffor why shold they giue their gold away 20 to him that hath enough of his owne P
Next to christs-church was he brought, a place of Mickle ffame, where the warden him receiued,—
24 I haue forgott his name.— heere they all went to the hall, tag & rag, great and small; the bells did ring, the boyes did singe,
28	& all did crye, 44 god saue the Kinge !
& grant him grace to run a race w^th pleasure in Royston downes ! ”
The hall was honge with verses thicke,
32 a goodlye sight to see,
ffor euery one was willed to make verses in his degree, to their trade some had made verses called ascelpiade,
And the clowns have given him
a pair of gloves :
yes,
hunting gloves;
not plate aiid money, as some say.
At Christchurch
they took him to the hall,
which was hung all over with versea
36318	TO OXFFORDE.
of all kinds,	here might you find, of euerye Kind,
	verses flitting to yo^r minde :
hexameters, sapphics,	here an examiter,1 there a pentamiter,
&c.	40 saphickes,2 & seasens 3 too.
finis.
1 hexametr.—P.	(the well-known verses, called also chol-
2 Sapphickes.—P.	iambics).—Dyce.
3	Beyond all doubt an error for seasons319
ilaïipe : Besfsftpv.1 * 3 *
Inerat ibi ab unguiciilis Dei timor et servitimn admirabile ; in parentes vero mira observantia ; erga fratres et sorores amor ferme incredibilis ; in pauperes Christique ministros reverenda ac singularis affectio.—Bernard Andreas.
Two copies of this song are preserved elsewhere, one in a MS. of the time of Charles II. in the possession of Mr. Bateman, the other in MS. Harl. 367, transcribed apparently, says Mr. Halliwell, about the year 1600. These two copies differ considerably. They have both been printed: the former three times, viz., by Mr. Thomas Hey wood in 1829, by Mr. Halliwell for the Percy Society, and by Mr. Jewitt in his Ballads and Songs of Derbyshire; the latter by Mr. Halliwell along with the other. The following copy differs but slightly from this latter one from the Ha-rl. MS. It is perhaps a little later than it, as it speaks of c our comely King,5 probably James the First, in v. 3, where the Harleian version reads 6 Queen,5 probably Queen Elizabeth. Certainly neither copy in its present shape is as old as the events it describes. Both are less modernised than the copy in Mr. Bateman’s MS,
But we see no reason to doubt that the main ground-work of the poem was laid early in the sixteenth century, or still earlier,
1 In 6 Parts. Containing a long Ac-count of the bringing in of Henr?/ 7tl1 and all the steps previous to it, down to the battle of Bosworth.—P.
This is a later copy of the Ladye Bessie in MS. Harl. 367, fol. .89, printed by Mr. Halliwell for the Percy Society in 1847, at p. 43-79 of The most pleasant Bong of Lady Bessy. The Harleian copy is doubtless of Elizabeth’s reign,— ab. 1600 Mr. Halliwell says—as in its
3r.d line, and its last line but one, it has
save and kepe our comtye queene,
whereas our copy in the Polio dates from a King’s reign—no doubt James l.’s,— saue & keepe our comelye Kinge.
(To prevent the repetition of an objection already made, I add that the epithet * comelye ’ was probably applied to James because it was in the text, having been used for Elizabeth.)
Cp. for st. 118, p. 184. The Harleian copy is not divided into parts. The collation of it here is from Mr. Halliwell’s text.—F,320
LADYE BESSIYE.
by one who himself took part, as he professes, in the exciting transactions that are narrated—by Humphrey Brereton, the active and zealous agent, the * true esquire,’ of the Lady Bessy. As to the date of the composition of the poem, there is a great look of authenticity about the work; there is an annalistic air. The account given of the conferences between the Princess and Lord Stanley (styled, proleptieally, the Earl of Derby), of the messenger’s journeys into the northern counties and across the sea, is singularly minute and graphic; and these merits can scarcely be ascribed to the brilliant imagination of the writer. There are no signs apparent of any great talent of that kind. The style is that of a man who can relate soberly and steadily what he has seen, not of one fertile in conjuring up ideal pictures. It is matter of fact, autoptic throughout.
We have, unhappily, no means of applying the touchstone of history to the circumstances narrated by the ballad. There is extant no other information as to the movements of Elizabeth of York, between Christmas 1484 and the 21st of the following August, when the battle of Bosworth was fought. We find that at the time of that battle she was living at Sheriff Hutton Castle in Yorkshire, “ with no companion,” says Miss Strickland (see that lady’s Lives of the Queens of England), “ but its young and imbecile owner, her cousin Warwick.” The ballad speaks of her as present at Leicester, when the dishonoured body of her uncle was carried from the field of his fall into that town. But this collision between the ballad and facts cannot be allowed to impugn the validity of the whole account furnished by the ballad. The bringing the lately oppressed lady to the sight of her fallen oppressor, formed a “ position ” too tempting to be rejected. Facts might pardonably be strained a little to compass such an effective meeting; and the furious spirit of a partisan might put into the mouth of a most gentle lady cruel words derisive of her fallen enemy.LADYE BESSIYE,
321
They carried him naked unto Leicester,
And buckled his hair under his chin.
Bessie met him with a merry cheer;
These were the words she said to him :
“How likest thou the slaying of my brethren twain? ”
She spake these words to him alone.
“Now are we wroken upon thee here !
Welcome, gentle uncle, home! ”
As to the authorship, we may easily believe that the writer was Humphrey Brereton. Probably no one but Brereton would have described so carefully Brereton’s movements, the main interests of the piece centring around the Earl of Richmond, and the lady Elizabeth. This author knows well and describes every passage of them.
This ballad then may be set down as of some considerable historical value for the picture of old times that it gives.
[Part L]
[How the Princess Elizabeth persuades Lord Derby to help her and her lover Bichmond.]
4
GrOD:
that is most of might,
& borne was of a maiden ffree,
sane & keepe onr comelye Kinge & all2 the pore cominaltye !
G-od save
the King and the Commons !
for wheras 'K.ing Richard, I vnd[e]rstand,	in Richard
III.’s time
had not raigned yeeres three,
But the best duke in all the Land [page 465]
8 he caused to be headed 3 att Salsburye.
that time the Stanleys without doubt	the Stanleys
were dread ouer England ffarr & neere,4 greatest3 next King Richard, that was soe stout,	England;
12 of any LorcZ in England Ire.5
1	queene.—Harl.
2	also.—Harl.
3	A.-S. heäfdian, to head, behead.—F.
4 nee.—Harl.	5 free.—Harl.3 22
LADYE BESSIYE.
and when Lady Bessye
was staying in London, with Lord Derby,
she complained to him against her uncle, King Richard :
“Hedrowned my brothers
in a pipe of wine,
and wanted to put away his Queen and lie with me.
You too may meet with Buckingham’s fate.
there was a Lady faire on mold, the name of her was litle Bessye ; shee was yonng, shee was not old,
16 but of the age 1 of one and twentye ;
shee cold write, & shee cold reede, well shee cold worke by prophesye ; shee soiorrned in the Cittye of London 20 that time W'Zth the Erie of Darbye.
ypon a time, as I you tell,
there was noe more but the Erie & shee ; shee made complaint of 2 Richard the Kmg,
24 that was her ynckle of blood soe nye :
“ helpe, ffather Stanley, I doe you pray !
for of 'King Richard wroken I wold 3 bee. he did my brethren to the death on a day 28 in their bedd where they did lye ;
“ he drowned them both in a pipe of wine ;
itt was dole to heare and see !
& he wold haue put away his Queene 32 for to haue lyen by my bodye!
a helpe that he were put away,
for the royall blood destroyed wilbee 4 ! Bukingam, that duke of England,
36 was as great wdh King Richard as now are yee.
“ the crowne of England there tooke hee,— forsooth, Lord, this is no lye,—
& crowned King RicharcZ of England free,
40 that after beheaded him att Salsburye.
1	yeares.—Harl.
2	one.—Harl.
3	will I.—Harl.
4	destroy will hee.—Harl.LADYE BESSIYE.
323
“ belpe, father Stanley, I you pray !
for on that traitor wroken wold I bee;
& belpe Erie Richmond, that Prince soe 1 gay, 44 that is exiled oner the sea !
Help, too,
Richmond, who is exiled.
“ for & be were 'King, I sbold be Queene ;
I doe bim loue, & neuer bim see. tbinke on Edward, my father, that late was King, 48 ypon bis deathe-bed where be did lye :
I love him. Think how my father, King
Edward, on his deathbed, left me
“ of a litle child be put me to thee, for to gouerne and to guide 2 ;
into jour keeping bee put mee,	to y°ur care>
52	& left me a booke of propbecye3;—
“ I baue itt in keeping in this citye ;— be knew that yee might make me a Queene, father, if thy will itt be ;
56 for Richarcl is no righteous Kinge,
as he knew that you could make me Queen.
“ nor vpon no woman borne was bee ;
the royall blood of all this land, Richard my vnkle will destroye co as be did the Duke of Buckingham,
Richard will destroy all the royal blood.
64
“Who4 was as great wddi King Richard as now are yee. for when be was duke of Grloster,
be slew good King Henerye
in the Tower of London as be lay there.
He slew King Henry in the Tower.
1	Harl. omits soe — F.
2	For gye = guide.—Dyce.
3	See “ The most pleasant Song of Lady Bessy,” edited from Mr. Bateman’s MS. by Mr. Halliwell for the Percy Society, p. 4. King Edward speaks to his little Bessy set in a window:
“ Here is a book of Beason; keep it welb As you will have the love of me; Neither to any creature do it tell,
Nor let no liveing lord it see,
Except it be to the Lord Stanley,
The which I love full heartiley:
All the matter to him show you may, For he and his thy help must be;
As soon as the truth to him is shown, Unto your words he will agree;
For their shall never son of my body be gotten
That shall be crowned after me,
But you shall be queen and wear the crown,
So doth expresse the prophecye.’ ’—F. 4 which,—Harl.324
LADYE BESSIYE.
Stanley,	4 4 Sir willmm Stanley, tliy brother deere
sir1 William1'	in the hol[t]e 1 where he doth lye,
can bring	he may make 500 fisditinge men 2
500 men,	.	.
68 by the marry age of his faire Ladye.3
your son George
1000 men,
ujout sonne George, the Lore? Strange, in Latham where he doth lye, he may make a 1000 4 flighting men in flere, 72	& gine them wages for monthes three.
your son	44 Edward Stanley thai is thy sonne,5
Edward	17	17
300 men,	300 men may bring to thee.
thy sonne lames, that yonng preist,
76 warden of Manchester was made latelye.
your nephew	44 Sir Iohn Sauage, thy sisters sonne,—
Savage	he is thy sisters sonne of blood soe nye—
1500 men,	.	.
hee may make 1500 fighting men,
80	& all his men white hoods to 6 gine ;
Sir G. Talbott
44 he gineth the pikes7 on his banner bright;
ypon a feild backed was nener8 hee.	[page 466]
Sir Gilbert Talbott, a man of might,
84 in Shefieild castle where he doth lye,
1000 men (?)
yourself 1000 men:
44 Hele make a 10001 men 9 of might,
& gine them wages flor monthes three. & thy selfe a 1000 Eagle ffitt10 to flight, 88 that is a goodlye sight to see ;
You and yours can bring Richmond back, and then he’ll be King, and I Queen.”
44 for thon & thine withonten pine may Bring Richemond oner the sea ; for & he were Kmy, I shonld be Qneene ; 92 flather Stanley, remember bee ! ”
1	holte.—Harl. holte, vid. St. 50, &c., passim.—P..
2	ten thowsand fighting men in fere. —Harl.
3	Harl. transposes lines 68 and 72.—F.
4	make fyve thowsand.—Harl.
6	eame, qu.—P. sonne.—Harl.
6	doe.—Harl.
7	pickes.—Harl.
8	neuef hacked was.—Harl.
9	He may make ten thowsand.—Harl.
10	ten thowsand eigle feete.—Harl. The Stanley badge was an eagle’s foot. See vol. i. p. 223, note H.—F.LADYE BESSIYE.
325
then answered the Earle againe ;
these were the words he sayd to Bessye : “ & 'King Bichard doe know this thing,1 96 wee were vndone, both thon and I;
Lord Derby answers, that if Richard knew of this
“In a ffire yon2 must brenn,
my liffe & my lands are 3 lost from mee ; therfore these words be in vaine: loo leaue & doe away, good Bessye ! ”
he’d burn her, and kill him.
She must begone.
u ffather Stanley ! is there no grace P
noe Queene of England that I must bee P then Bessye stoode studying 4 in that place 104 w^th teares trickling ffrom her eyen :
“ Is there no grace ?
Am I never to be Queen ?
“ Now I know I must neuer be Queene !
all this, man, is longe of5 thee ! but thinke on the dreadffull day	Stanley!
Think on
108 when the great doame itt shalbe.	the day of
°	doom,
“ when righteousnesse on the rainbowe shall sitt, when Christ & deeme 6 he shall both thee and mee,	you!13Udt,e
& all ffalshood away shall fflitt 112 when all truth shall by him bee !
“ I care not whether I hange or drowne, soe that my soule saued may bee ; make good, answer as thou may,
116 ffor all this, man, is longe of7 thee.”
Care not for death, so that you can answer God! ”
with that shee tooke her head grace 8 downe,	Bessye
& threw itt downe 9 vpon the ground,	head-jewels
both 10 pearles & many a precyous stone	ground,
120 that were better then a 1000 11 pound.
1 then.—Harl.	2 thon.—Harl.
3	land is.—Harl.
4	styding.—Harl.
5	on.—Harl.
6	And all denie.—Harl.
7	on.—Harl. Cp. Cotgrave’s 11A toy
v?a pas tenu. Thou wert no hinderance . .
it was not long of thee.—E.
8 perhaps geare.—P.	gere.—Harl. Yet “grace” may have been intended, as in the description of a peasant :
“ Her bon grace was of wended straw.’ —W.C.
9	did it throwe.—Harl.
10	with.—Harl.
11	then fowertye.—Harl.326
LADYE BESSIYE.
tears her hair,
wrings her hands,
laments, and bids Lord Derby farewell.
He turns pale,
weeps, says “ Stay, Bessie!
Here
I fear
overhearers,
but at 9 to-night, I’ll be in your bower
her ffaxe 1 that was as white as silke, shortly downe shee did itt rent; with her hands as white as any milke,
124 her ffaire ffaxe thus hath shee2 spilt3;
her hands together can shee wringe,
& wrfch teares shee wipes her eye ;
44 welladay, Bessye ! ” can shee sing,
128	& parted W'dh the Erie of darbye.
44 ffare-well, man ! now am I gone !
itt shall be long ere thou me see ! ” the Erie stood still as any stone,
132	& all blarked4 was his blee.
when he heard Bessye make such mone, the teares fell downe from his eye,
44 abyde, Bessye ! wee part not soe soone ! 136 heere is none now 5 but thee and I;
44 ffeild hath eyen, & wood hath eares, you cannott tell who standeth vs by; but wend forth, Bessye, to thy Bower,
140	& looke you doe as I bidd yee 6 :
44 put away thy may dens bright, that noe person doth vs see 7 ; for att nine of the clocke within this night, 144 in thy bower will I be wrfch thee;
1	faxe, hair, A.-S.fecix^ idem.—P.
2	he.—Harl.
3	? splent (cf. splinter).—Dyce.
4	blenched.—Harl. blanked—his blee,
i. e. his Complexion turned pale.—P.
5	I wene here is noe moe.—Harl.
6	the.—Harl.
7	there with us bee.—Harl.
vide infra, Page 470 [of MS. 1. 412 here] :LADYE BESSIYE.
“ then of this matter wee will talke 1 more, when there is no moe but you 2 and I;
A charcole [fire] 3 att my desire,
148 that no smoke come in our eye ; 4
“ Peeces 5 of wine many a one,
& diuers spices be therbye, pen, Inke, paper, looke thou want none,
152 but haue all things ffull readye.”
Bessye made her busines, & forth is gone,.
& tooke her leaue att the Erie of Darbye,
& put away her maydens anon,
156 no man nor mayd 6 was therby;
A charcole fire was ready bowne,— there cane no smoke within his eye,— peeces of wine many a one,
160	& diuers spices lay 7 therby,
Pen, Inke, & paper, shee8 wanted none, [page 467] & 9 hadd all things there ffull readye,
& sett her selfe ypon.a stone 164 without10 any companye.
shee tooke a booke in her hande,
& 11 did read of prophecye, how shee sholdbee Queene of12 England,
168 but many a guiltelesse man first must dye ;
1	carpe.—Harl.
2	thou.—Harl.
3	fire, vide infra.—P.
4	With no chimney in the room, the wood smoke would make' their eyes smart. See Pref. to Babees Book, p. lxiv. —F.
5	cups. See * a peece of wine,’ p. 333,
1. 306 below, and 1. 159; Book, p. 325,1. 792.—F.
6	mayden was there nye.
7	dyvers spices did lye.-
8	there.—Harl.
9	shee.—Harl.
10	withouten.—Harl.
11	and there.—Harl.
327
and talk more with, you.
Have a charcoal fire that won’t smoke,
and pen, ink and paper all ready.”
She goes home,
sends away her maids,
gets ready a charcoal fire,
wine
and spices,
pen and paper,
and reads her book of prophecy,
also Babees
—Harl. -Harl.
12 in.—Harl.328
LADYE BESSIYE.
till Lord ■ Derby comes at 9 at night.
& as stee read fiurther,1 shee wept.
with 2 that came the Erie of Parbye; att nine of the clocke att 3 night 172 to bessyes bower Cometh hee.
she bars her	shee barred the dore abone and vnder,
•	5	that no man shold come them nye 4 ;
shee sett him on [a] seate [soe] s rich, 176	& on another shee sett her by ;
and gives him wine and spice.
It works,
shee gane him wine, shee gane him spice, ' sais,6 “blend in, ifather, & drinke to me.” the fire was hott, the spice itt bote,
180 the wine itt wrought 7 wonderfiullye.
then kind 8 in heat, god wott,
then weeped the noble 9 Erie of Parbye : and he	“ aske now, Bessye then,10 what thou wilt,
promises
her what- .184	& thy boone granted itt 11 shalbee.”
ever she
She wants only her Richmond.
“ Nothing,” said Bessye, “ I wold haue, neither of gold nor yett of See, but fiaire Erie Richmond, soe god me saue, 188 that hath lyen soe long beyond the sea.”
Lord Derby says he’d grant her request if he had a clerk he could trust to write for him.
“ Alas, Bessye! that12 noble Lord
& thy boone, fforsooth, grant wold I thee ; but there is no clarke that I dare 13 trust 192 this night to write ffor thee and mee,
1	faster.—Harl.
2	And with.—Harl.
3	within the.—Harl.
4	nee.—Harl.
5	a seate soe.—Harl.
6	Said.—Harl.
7	wronghte.—Harl.
8	full kynde.—Harl.
9	waxed the oulde.—Harl.
10	Harl. omits then.—F.
11	And nowe thy boune graunted.— Harl.
12	said that.—P. said that.—Harl.
13	doe.—Harl.LADYE BESSIYE.
329
“ because our matter is soe bye, lest any man wold vs bewray.”
Bessye said, “ ffather, itt shall not neede;
96 I am a clarke ffull good, I say.”
sbee drew a paper vpon ber knee, pen and Inke sbee bad full readye, bands white & ffingars long ;
200 sbee dressed ber to write1 speedylye.
“ ffatber Stanley, now let me see, ffor euery word write shall I.”
“ Bessye, make a letter to the Holt 204 there 2 my brother Srr William doth Lye ;
“ bidd him bring 7 sad yeomen, all in greene clothes lett them bee,
& change bis Inn in euery towne 208 where before bee was wont to Lye ;
“ & lett bis fface be towards the benche,3 lest any man sbold him espye ;
& by the 3d. day of May 212 that be come and speake wztb mee.
“ Commend me to my sonne George, the Lord strange, where be doth lye,
& bidd him bring 7 sadd yeomen ;
216 all in greene clothes lett them bee,
“ & lett bimselfe be in the same suite,
& change 4 bis Inn in euery towne,
& lett bis backe be ffroe the benche,
220 Lest any man sbold him known e;
1	wryte full.—Harl.
2	whereas.—Harl.
Bessye says she’ll be clerk,
and gets her paper, &c, ready.
Lord Derby dictates a letter to Sir William Stanley,
telling him to come to him
by May 3.
He dictates another letter to his son George, bidding him also come
3	? meaning.—F.
4	cliaunging.—Harl.330
LADYE BESSIYE.
by May 3.
Another to his son Edward,
“ & by the 31 day of May
bidd him come & speake w^th mee. Commend me to Edward my sonne, 224 the warden 1 & hee togetherr bee,
bidding him to come by
“& bidd them bring 7 sadd yeomen,
& all in greene lett them bee, changing their Inn in enery towne 228 where before 2 they were wont to Lye ;
May 3.
“ lett their backes be ffrom the bench, lest any man shold them see ;
& by the 31 day of May 232 bidd them come & speake with. mee.
Another to Sir J.
Savage and Sir G. Talbot,
Comend me to Sir Iohn Sauage
& Sir Gilbert Talbott in the north cnntrye, & [let] either of them [bring] 3 7 sad yeomen, 236 and all in greene lett them bee,
bidding them to come by May 3.
“ Changing their Inn in enery towne	[page 486]
before where they were wont to bee ;
& by the 31 day of May 240 lett4 them come & speake w¿th me.”
Lord Derby seals the letters,
Bessye writeth, the Lord he sealeth;
“ ffather Stanley, what will yee more ? ” “ alas ! ” sayd that royall Lord,
244	“ all onr worke is 5 fforlore !
but then he has no messenger that he can trust.
“ ffor there is noe messenger that6 wee may trnst to bring the tydings to the north cuntrye,
7 lest any man shold vs betraye,
248	7 because, our matter is soe hye.”
1	See line 76 above.—F.
2	Before where.—Harl.
3	byd them brynge eyther of them.
-Harl.
4	byd.—Harl.	5 yt is.—Harl.
6	whom.—Harl.
7	The Folio transposes these two lines. Harl. has them as here printed.—F.LADYE BESSIYE.
331
“ Humphrey Bretton,1 ” said litle Bessye,
“ he hath heene true to my father & mee, hee shall haue the writting 2 in hand,
252	& bring them into the North cuntrye.
Bessye saya Humphrey Bretton will take the letters.
“ goe to thy bedd, ffather, & sleepe,
& I shall worke 3 ffor thee & mee, to-Morrow by rising of the sunn 256 Humphrey Bretton shall be w^’th thee.”
shee brought the Lord to 4 his bedd,	she takes
all that night where he shold Lye;	to%ed^er*
& Bessye worketh 5 all the night;
260 there came no sleepe in her eye.
[Part II] 6
[How Humphrey Bretton, for the Princess Elizabeth’s sake, carries the Letters of Lord Derby to his Adherents.]
In the morninge when the day can spring,	and at day-
spring
vp riseth Bessye in that stower, to Humphrey Bretton gone is shee 7 ;	Humphrey
264 but when shee came to Humphreys bower,
w^th a small voice called shee.	and calls
• i	him.
Humphrey answered that Lady bright,
& saith, “lady, who are yee	Heaskswho
268 that calleth on me ere 8 itt be light P ”
272
“ I am King Edwards daughter,
the countesse cleere, young Bessye : in all the hast thou 9 can,
thou must come speake w¿th the Erie of Darbye.”
“ King Edward’s daughter, Lady Cleere, come to Lord Derby.”
1 Breerton.—Harl. & so throughout.
* writynges.—Harl.
8 wake.—Harl.
4	unto.—Harl.
5	waketh.—Harl.
6	The 2d Pl® Query.—P.
7	she ys.—Harl.
8 yer.—Harl.	9 that thou.—Harl.332
LADYE BESSIYE.
Humphrey goes with her
Humphrey cast vpon [him] 1 a gowne, a paire of slippers on 2 ’his ffeete. for[th] of [his] Chamber 3 then he came, 276	& went4 w^th that Lady sweet.
shee brought him to the bed side
where they Lore? lay in bed to sleepe. when they 5 Erie did Humphrey see,
280 full tenderlye can hee 6 weepe,
who gives him the 6 letters.
& said, “my loue, my trust, my liffe, my Land, all this, Humphrey, doth Lye in thee ! thou may make, & thou may marr,
284 thou may vndoe Bessye & mee !
“ take sixe letters in thy hand,7
& bring them into the north countrye ; they be written on they 8 backside,
288 where they letterrs deliuered shold9 bee.”
Bessye
he receiued the letterrs sixe ;
into the west wend 10 wold hee. then meeteth him that Ladye bright,
292 she said, “ abide, Humphray, & speake w^th mee.
promises to reward him when she’s Queen,
and tells him to avoid bad
company,
“ a poore reward I shall thee giue, itt shall be but pounds three; if I be Queene, & may liue,
296 better rewarded shalt thou bee.
“ A litle witt god hath sent mee : when thou rydest into the west, I pray thee take no companye 300 but such as shall be of the best,
1	him.—Harl.
2	upon.—Harl.
8	forth of his Chamb*—P. forthe of his chamber.-—Harl.
4 went forthe.—Harl.
s the.—Harl.
6	then can.—Harl.
7	MS. hamcl.—F. thyne hande. Harl.
8	the.—Harl.
9	levered shall.—Harl.
10	wynde.—Harl.ladye bessiye.
333
“ sitt not too long drinking thy1 wine,	and not sit
.	,	_	too long
lest m neat2 thou be too merrrye;	over his
wine.
such words yon 3 may cast out then,
304 to-morrow 4 fforthought5 itt6 7 8 may bee.”
Hnmphray of 7 Bessye receiuecl noble[s] nine 8 ; she gives
. t-i	n	i	111*	him nine
w&th a peece oi wme skee cold him assay;	nobles,
hee tooke leane of that Ladye sheene,	wine,
308	& Straight to the holt he took h[i]s 9 way.	and he rides
off to
when Siv william Stanley did him see,	Sir w.
. § J	’	Stanley,
he said to him w'tth words free,
“ Humphrey Brettom, what maketh thee10 heere, 312 that hither dost ryde soe hastilye ?
“How [fareth] 11 that Lo rd, my brother deare,	who asks
after
That lately was made the Erie of darby, [page 469] Lord Derby, is he dead without letting,
316 or w^th 'King Bichard his counsell12 is hee?
“ Or he be suspected without13 lett, or taken into the tower so hye, London gates shall tremble & quake 320 but my brother borrowed shall bee
If he is put in the Tower, London gates
shall tremble for it.
“ tell me, Humphrey, w^thouten lett, that rydest hither 14 soe hastilye.”
“breake that letter,” 15 said Humphrey then; 324 “behold then, and you shall see.” 16
Humphrey hands him the Earl’s letter.
1	the.—Harl.
2	harte.—Harl.
3	thou.—Harl.
4	the other morrowe.—Harl.
5	for thought.—P. repented of.—P.
6	Harl. omits itt.—P.
7	at.—Harl.
8 rec? nobles nine.—P.	nowbles.—
Harl.
9	the.—Harl.
10	thou.—Harl.
11	fareth.—Harl. How doth that.—P.
12	what consayte.—Harl.
13	withoiiten.—Harl.
14	hither rydeth.—Harl.
15	breake letter.—Harl,
16	Behoulde, sir, and yee may see.—* Harl.334
LADYK BESSIYE.
Sir William bites his stick,
when the Knight Looked the Letter 1 on, he stood still in a stnddiinge : answer to Humphrey gaue he none,
328 but still hee gnew 2 on his staffe end.
he plucket the letter in peeees three, into the water he cold itt fflinge 3 4 : Humphrey	“ haue heere, Humphrey,” said the 'Knight,
332	“ I will giue thee a 100 shillinge ;
£ thou shalt not tarry heere all night, straight to Latham ryd shall yee.”
“ alas,” sais Humphrey, “ I may not ryde, 336 my horsse is tyred, as ye may see ;
tells him to go to sleep,
“ I came ffrom London in this tyde, there came no sleepe within mine eye.”
“Lay thee downe, Humphrey,” he said, “ & sleepe 340 well the space of houres three ;
and he’ll lend him a fresh horse.
Humphrey rests two hours,
“ a ffresh horsse I thee behett,
shall bring [thee] through the north countrye.” 4 Humphray slept but howers 2,
344 but on his Iourney well thought hee ;
a ffresh horsse was brought to him
to bring him through the west countrye. he tooke his leaue at the Knight,
348	& straight to Latham rydeth hee,
and reaches	& att 9 of Clocke in 5 the night,
it at nine.
att Latham gates 6 knocketh hee.
The porter	the Porter ariseth 7 anon-right,
352	& answerd8 Humphray wath words ffree,
1	the latter looked.—Harl.
2	gneve.—Harl. gnawed.—F.
3	slynge.—Harl.
4	The Folio wrongly transposes lines
343 & 347, 344 & 348.- Harl. has them
right, as printed here.—F.
5	At nyne of the clocke within. —Harl.
6	yates.—Harl.
7	ryseth.—Harl.
8	answereth.—Harl.LADYE BESSIYE.
335
“ In good ffaith, itt is to Late
to call on me this time of the night.”
“ I pray the, porter, open the gate,
356	& lett me in anon-right;
“ w^'th the Lord strange I must speake, from his ffather, the Erie of Darbye.” the porter opened vp the gates,
360	& in came his horsse and hee.
the best wine that was therin,
to Humphrey Bretton fforth brought hee, wrbli torches burning in that tyde,
364	& other lights that he might see,
& brought him to 1 the bed syde wheras the Lord strange Lay. the Lord he mused in that tyde,
368	& sayd, “Humphrey, what hast thou to say?
“ how ffareth my ffather, that noble Lord ?
in all England he hath no peere.2 ’1 Humphrey tooke a letter in his hand,
372	& said, “ behold & yee may see.3 ”
when they Lord strange looked the letter vpon, the teares trickled downe his eye; he sayd, “ wee must ynder a cloude,4 376 for wee may 5 neuer trusted bee ; wee may sigh 6 & make great moane; this world is not as itt shold bee.
1 downe unto.—Harl.	4 clodde.—Harl.
2	no peere hath he (to rhyme with	5 muste.—Harl.
what follows).—Dyce.	6 sike.—Harl.
3	here.—Harl.
lets him in,
and takes him to Lord Strange in bed.
Humphrey gives him his letter,336
LA.DYE BESSIYE.
and he promises
to keep his appointment.
“ comend me to my fattier deere,
380 his daylye blessing be wold 1 giue me ; for & I liue another yeere,
this appontment keepe will I.”
Humphrey rides on to Manchester,
sees Sir Edward Stanley and his brother,
he receined gold of my Lord Strange,
384	& straight to Manchester rydeth hee;
And when hee came to Manchester,
Itt was prime of the day;	[page 470
he was ware of the warden & Edward Stanley,
388 together their Mattins ffor to say.
then 2 one brother said to the other, “behold, brother, & yon may see, heere cometh Humphrey Bretton,
392 some hastye tydings 3 bringheth hee.”
and gives them their letters.
They rejoice.
he betooke them either a letter,4 & bidd them looke & behold;
& read they did these lettevrs readylye,5 396	& vp they lope, & langht aloude,
And saith,6 “ ffaire ffall o^r ¿Father that noble Lord to stirre and rise beginneth hee;
Buckingham	Buckinghams blood shall be roken,7
revenged, 400 that was beheaded 8 att Salsburye.
and Bessy’s	“ ffaire ffall the Countesse, the "Kings daughter,
that good 9 Councell giue cold shee ; wee trust in god ffull10 of might love brought	404 to bring her Lord ouer the sea !
over the sea.	0
1 wolde.—Harl.	2 The.—Harl.
8 thythandes.—Harl.
4	He tooke eyther a letter in their
handes.—Harl.
5	radlye.—Harl.
6	said.—Harl.
7	wroken.—Harl. revenged.—F.
8	headed.—Harl.
9	such.—Harl.
10	soe full.—Harl.LAD YE BESSIYE.
337
“ haue heere, Humphray, of eitlier 40s;
better rewarded shall thou bee.” he tooke the gold att their hand ;
408 to 1 Sir Iohn Sauage rydeth hee,
& hee tooke him a letter in 2 hand, bade3 him “behold, read, and see.”
& 4 when the Knight the Letter hadd,
412 all blanked5 was his blee :
“ womens witt is wonder to heare !
my vnckle is turned by yo^r 6 Bessye !
& wether itt turne to weale or woe,7 416 att my vnckles biddinge will I bee.8
“ haue heere, Humphrey, 40s.: better rewarded may thou bee ! to Sheffield Castle Looke thou ryde 420 in all the hast that may bee.”
fforth then rydeth that gentle 'Knight;
Sir Gilbert Talbott fhndeth 9 hee ; hee tooke him a letter in his hand,
424	& bidd him, “ reade & yee may 10 see.”
when Sir Gilbert Talbott the lettre looked on, a loude laughter laughed hee :
“ ffaire flail that Lord of hye 11 renown e !
428 to rise and stirr 12 beginneth hee !
“ffaire flail Bessye, that Countesse cleere, that such councell giueth trulye !
Comend me to my nephew deare,
432 the young Erie of Shrewsbyrye,
1 and to.—Harl.	7 wayle.—Harl.
2 in his.—Harl.	8 I will.—Harl.
3 and bad.—Harl.	9 then fyndeth.—Harl.
4 Harl. has no cf.—F.	10 he mighte.—Harl.
5 then all blencked.—Harl.	11 riche.—Harl.
6 you.—Harl.	13 stirre and ryse nowe.-
z
Humphrey goes then to Sir John Savage,
and he swears to hack his uncle.
Sir Gilbert Talbot’s letter is not delivered,
and he vows
Harl.
YOL. III.338
LADYE BESSIYE.
that lie’ll	Ibidd Mm neuer dread for no death,
strange free,	In London Towre if liee bee;
I shall make London tremble & quake 43l> but my nephew borrowed shalbee l
6i Comend me to that Countesse cleere, 'King Edwards daughter, young Bessye 5 tell her, I trust in god that hath no peere Richmond 440 to bring her lone oner the sea.
to England,
a Comend me to that Lord without1 dread that latelye was made Erie 2 of darbye; & 3 enery haire of my head 444 for a man connted might bee,
and live and die with Lord Derby.
“ with that Lord withouten dread, with him will I line and dye ! hane heere, Hnmphray, ponnds three 5 448 better rewarded may thon bee !
66 Straight to London looke thon ryde in all the hast that may bee;
Comend mee to the Kings daughter,4 young Bessye, 452 'King Edwards daughter forssooth is shee,
Humphrey rides bach to London,
“ In all this Land shee hath no peere.’5 he 5 taketh his leane att the Knight, & straight to London rydeth hee.
456	<& when he came to London right
6 Itt was but a litle before eueni[n]ge,
there was he ware, walking in a garden greene, and finds	[of] both the Erie & Richard onr Kinge.
MthKing^ 460 when the Erie had Humphrey see [ne,7] [page 4713
Richard.
1 withouterh—Harl.	5 thus he.—Harl.
2 the Earle.—Harl.	6 The 3^ Parte. Query,—P,.
3 and.—Harl.	7 seen.—P,
4	to the Cowntas.—Harl,LA DTE BESSIYE.
339
he gane him a priuye twinke 1 with his eye.	Derby
then Humphrey came before the King soe ffree,	at him,
& downe he ffalleth vpon his knee.
464	“ welcome, Htimphray ! ” said the Erie of Darbye :
“ where hast thou beene, Hnmphray ? ” said the Erie, and asks “ffor I hane mist thee weekes three,”	been.
“ I hane beene in the west, my Lord,
468 where I was borne and bredd trnlye,
“ ffor to sport me &> to play
amonge my ffreinds ffarr & nye.”
“tell me, Humphrey,” said the Erie,
472	“ how ffareth all2 3 that Country e F
3 tell me, Humphray, X thee pray,
how ffareth 'King Richards Comnnaltye P ”
“ Amusing myself among my friends.”
“ How are King Richard’s commons there ? ”
“ of all Countryes, I dare well say,
476 they beene the fflower 4 of archerye, ffor they will be trusty wrth their bowes, for 5 they will flight & neuer fflee.”
“ They are the flower of archery, will fight, and never flee.”
when King Richard heard Humphray soe say,	Richard
480 in his hart hee was ffull merrye ;	1S glad’
hee 6 w^th his Cappe that was soe deere thanked him 7 ffull cnrteouslye,
& said, “ffather Stanley, thou art to mee neere,8	and promises
484 you are cheeffe of jour Comynaltye,
“ hälfe of England shalbe thine,	Lord Der
& equally devided between e thee & mee ;	England,
I am thine, & thou art mine,
488	& for 9 2 ffellowes will wee bee.
1	twyncke.—Harl the base of twinkle.—F.
2	all in.—Harl.
3	The Folio wrongly puts lines 473-4
after, line 478. Their position is altered
here on the authority of the Harleian
MS.—F.
4	cheefe.—Harl.
5	And.—Harl.
6	Harl. transfers he to the next line. —F.
7	that lorde.—H.
8	leere : for neere, with half the n left
out.—F.	0 soe.—Harl.340
LADYE BESSIYE.
for no one is	“I sweare by Marry, maid 1 mild,
I know none such vnder the skye ! whilest I am 2 YLing & weare the Crowne,
492 I will be cheeffe of the poore 3 Comynalfcye.
And he, Bichard, will never tax the commons,
“ tax nay mise 4 I will make none, in noe Cuntry ffarr nor neare 5 ; ffor if by their goods I shold plncke them downe, 496 for me they will ffaight 6 ffnll ffainteouslye.
who are his
dearest
treasures.
u There is no riches to me soe rich as is the pore Comynaltye.” 7 when they had ended all their speeche, 500 they tooke their leane ffnll gladlye,
The King leaves them,
and they go to Bessye’s bower.
& to his Bower the Kmg is gone.
then the Erie and8 Humphrey Bretton, to Bessyes bower they 9 went anon,
504	& ffound Bessye there alone.
She kisses Humphrey,
when Bessye did see Humphrey anon, anon 10 shee kissed him times three, saith, “ Humphray Bretton, welcome home ! 508 how hast thou spedd in the west Cuntrye ?
Into a purler they went anon,
there was no more but hee & shee: and prays	(i Humphray, tell mee or hence 111 gone,
him to
tell her his 512 some tydings 12 out of the west Countrye !
1 mayden.—Harl.	2 be.—Harl.
8	Harl. has no poors.—F.
4 Taske ne myse.—Harl. Tax ne levies qu.—P. For mise, expence, disbursement, money layed out, or the laying out of money. Cotgrave.—F.
3 nye.—Dyce.
6 fight, qu.—P.	woulde fyghte.—
Harl.
7	These sentiments may show who the
Ballad-writer’s audience were, and that he
looked to please them rather than engage their sympathy on Eichmond’s side. Had his words represented the King’s real feelings, no doubt Eichard would have kept his crown.—F.
8	MS. of.—F. and.—P. and.-Harl.
9	there has been altered into they in the MS.—F. >
10	Harl. omits Anon.—F.
11	I hence.—Harl.
12	tythandes.—Harl.LADYE BESSIYE.
341
“ If I shold send ffor yonder Prince	so that she
to come oner ffor tlie Lone of mee,	. mislead her
lover.
and mnrtliered amongst1 Lis ffoes to bee,
516 alas, that were ffnll great pittye !
“ fforsootb, that sight I wold not see for all the gold in Christentye ! tell me, Hnmphray, I tliee pray,
520	how'hast thon done in the west conntrye.”
vnto Bessye anon he told	Humphrey
how hee had sped in the west conntrye, what was the answers of them hee 2 had,
524	& what rewards hee had trnlye :
ct By the third day of May, Bessye,” he sayd, “ In London there will they bee; thon shalt in England be a Qneene,
52S or else donbtlesse they will dye.”
that on May 3 her friends will be in London, and she shall be Queen.
[Part III.]
[How Lord Derby’s friends come to London ; and how the Princess Elizabeth sends Humphrey Bretton to her lover, Richmond.]
thns they pronided in 3 the winter time their conncell to 4 keepe all three, the Erie wronght by prophecye,	Lord Derby
532 he wold not abyde in London trnlye,5 [page472]
536
bnt in the snbnrbs w^thont the Cittye an old Inn Chosen hath hee,
& drew an Eagle 6 vpon the entrye
that the westerne men might know where to Lye.7
withdraws to an old Inn in the suburbs,
1 by.—Harl.	2 he of them.—Harh
3 for.—Harl.	4 for to.—Harl.
5	The Earle woulde not in London
abyde,
for whye—he wroughte by prophesye.
-Harl.
6	The Eagle’s foot was the Radge of the Stanleys. Percy in vol. i. p. 223, note u.—E.
7 myghte yt see.—Harl.	A curious Instance of ancient Hospitality.—P.342
LADYE BESSIYE.
and thither on May 3 come
Sir William Stanley,
Humphrey stood in a hye tower,
& looked into the west Countrye ; Sir William Stanley & 7 in greene 540 came straight ryding1 to the Citye.
when he was ware of the Eagle drawne, he drew himselfe wonderous nye,
Sd bade his men goe into the towne,
544	& dranke 2 the wine and make merrye.
Into the Inn where the Eagle did bee, fforsooth shortlye is hee gone.
^ ^	Humphray Looked into the west,
strange, 548	& saw the hord strange & 7 come
ryding in greene into the Cittye.
when hee was ware of the Eagle 3 4 drawen, he drew himselfe wonderous nye,
552	& bade his men goe into the towne,
4 & spare no cost, & where they come
& 5 drinke the wine & make good cheere ; & hee himselfe drew full nye 556 into the Inn where his father Lay.
Humphrey looked more into the west; Six-teene 6 in greene did hee see,
Sir Edward	the warden & Sir Edward Stanley
his brother, 560 came ryding both m companye.
1	ryding streight into.—Harl.
2	drynke.—Harl.
8 onlde eigle.—Harl.
4	This stanza is in the Harl. MS.
And drynke the wyne and make good cheare,
and whereever they come, noe coste to spare.
then to the inne where his father laye,
he drewe hymselfe wunderons neare.—F.
5	to.—F.
6	The form of the sc changes here, and in 1. 582, &c. to the modern one. —F.LADYE BESSIYE.
343
there as the Eagle was drawen, the gentlemen drew itt nye,
& hade their men goe into the towne,
564	& drinke the wine & make merrye;
& went into the same Inn
there where their ffather Lay.1 yett Humphray beholdeth into the west, 568	& looked towards the North countrye ;
he was ware of Srr Iohn sauage & Bir Gylbert Talbott
came ryding both in companye. when they where w&re of the Eagle drawen, 572 then they drew themselues hull2 nye,
Sir John Savage, and Sir Gilbert Talbot.
& bade their men goe into the towne,
& drinke the wine & make merry;
& yode 3 themselues into the inne 4 576 where the Erie and Bessye Lay.5
when all the Lords together mett,	Bessye
among them all was litle Bessye;	them ail.
wrth goodlye words shee them grett,G 580	& said, “ Lords, will yee doe ffor mee ?
u what, will yee releeue yonder Prince
that is exiled beyond the sea P ”
the Erie of Darbye came fforth then ;	Lord Derby
J	m	■ says he’ll
584 these be 7 they words he said to Bessye :
1	where the earle their father lee.— Harl.
2	wnnderous.—Harl.
3	yode, i. e. went.—P. yende.—Harl.
4	MS. inme.—P.
5 lee.—Harl.	Forte rythmi gratia, Where lay the Earl & Ld7 Bessye.—P.
6	i. e. greeted.-^P. can them greete. —Harl.
7	were.—Harl.344
LADYE BESSIYE.
give her 401.		“ ffourty Pound will I send,
		Bessye, ffor the loue of thee;
and 20,000		& 20000 Eagle ffeette,1
men.	588	a queene of England to make thee.”
Sir William		Sir William Stanley came fforth then;
Stanley-		these were the words hee sayd to Bessye : “ remember, Bessye, another time,2
	592	who doth the best now ffor thee.
10,000 men.		“ 10000 Cotes that beene red,
		in an howers warning ready shalbee.
She shall be Queen, or he will die.	596	In England thou shall be a queene, or else donbtelesse I will dye.”
Sir John Savage will give 1000		Sir Iohn Sanage came fforth then; these were the words he said to Bessye :
marks.		“ 1000 marke 3 ffor thy sake
	600	I will send thy lone beyond the sea.”
Lord Strange		the Lord strange Came fforth then; [page 473] these were the words he said to Bessye : “ a litle mony & ffew men
	604	will bring thy loue ouer the sea;
advises that they keep their money at home.		“ Lett ys keepe our gold att home for to wage our companye. if wee itt send ouer the sea,4
	608	wee put our gold in Ieopardye.”
Edward Stanley says		Edward Stanley came forth then; these were the words he sayd to Bessye : “ remember, Bessye, another time,
	612	he that doth now 5 best ffor thee ;
1 ? MS. ffeelte.-perhaps feete.—P. Badge.—F.		—F. feete.—Harl. 8 ten thousand markes.—Harl. Lord Derby’s own 4 foame.—Harl. 5 nowe dothe.—Harl.
2 MS. tume.—F.LADYE BESSIYE.
345
“ ffor there is no 1 power that I haue, nor no gold to gine thee; ynder 2 my ffathers banner will I bee 3 616 either ffor to line or dye.”
he has neither men nor money, but he’ll fight for Bessye.
Bessye came fforth before the Lonfe all, & vpon her knees then ffalleth shee;
“ 10000 pound I will send 620 to my loue ouer 4 5 the sea.
She thanks them all.
She’ll send Bichmond 10,000*.
“ who shall be our messenger 6 to bring the 6 gold ouer the sea ? Humphrey Bretton,” said Bessye7 ; 624	“ I know none soe good as hee.”
by
Humphrey
Bretton.
628
“ alas! ” sayd Humphrey, 661 dare not take in hand to carry the gold ouer the sea; they Gralley shipps beene 8 soe stronge, they will me neigh wonderous nighe,
He tries to excuse himself from taking it,
“ they will me robb, they will me drowne, they will take they9 gold ffrom mee.”
“hold thy peace, Humphrey,” sayd litle Bessye, but she tells
him to be
632	“ thou shalt itt carry without10 Ieopardye;	quiet; he
J	J	shall take it
636
“ thou shalt haue no baskett nor no male;
no buchett11 nor sacke-cloth12 shall goe w*th thee; three Mules that be stiffe & stronge, loded w^th gold shall they bee ; w&h saddles side13 skirted, I doe thee tell, wherin the gold sowed14 shalbe.
in the saddle-flaps of three mules.
1	nowe noe.—Harl.
2	but under.—Harl.
3	fyghte.—Harl.
4	even to my love beyonde.—Harl.
5	messenger then.—Harl,
6	our.—Harl.
7	litill Bessie.—Harl.
8	the be.—Harl.
9 the.—Harl.	10 out of.—Harl.
11 Budget.—P.	bothed.—Halliwell. for boched (t. i. budget).—Harl.
12	clothe sacke.—Harl.
13	wide, or long.—P.
14	sewed. —Harl.346
LADYE BESSIYE.
“ if any man sayes, c who 1 is the shipp 640 that sayleth fforth vpon the sea P ’
Say itt is the hord Liles ; in England & ffrannee welbeloued is hee.”
Lord Derby
says he
then came fforthe the Erie of Darbye ;
644 these were the words he sayd to Bessye ; he said : “ Bessye, thou art to blame to poynt any shipp vpon the sea !
has a ship in which Humphrey shall go : no alien will
“ I haue a good shipp of my owne 648 shall carry Humphrey & my mules three ; an Eagle shalbe drawen vpon the top mast,2 that the out allyants 3 may itt see.
touch the Eagle.
“ there is no ffreake in all ffrance 652 that shipp that dare come nye.4 if any man aske whose is the shipp, say t itt is the Erie 5 of Darbyes.’ ”
Humphrey
sails from Hippon with the money,
Humphrey tooke the Mules three ; 656 into the west wind taketh hee ; att Hippon 6 w^thouten doubt there shipping taketh hee ; w^th a ffaire 7 wind & a Coole 660 thus he sayleth vpon the sea
1	whoes.—Harl.
2	maste toppe.—Harl.
3 out-alliens.—P.	the Italyants,—
Harl.
4	that the eigle darre once come nee. —Harl.
5	Earles.—Harl.
6 Hyrpon.—Harl.	7 softe.—Harl.LADYE BESSIYE.
347
[Part IV.]
[How Humphrey Bretton takes money from the Princess Elizabeth to Richmond; and who are on Richmond’s side.]
4- parte
664
^To Bigeram 1 abbey, where the English P rince was.
the porter was an Englishman,
and reaches Bigeram Abbey, where
Richmond is.
well he knew Humphrey Breitton,
& fast to him can he 1 2 gone.
Humphrey knocked att the gate prinilye,	He knocks
& these words he spake surelye,	at the gate
“ I pray thee, Porter, open the gate 668	& receiue me & my3 mules three,
I shall thee giue w^thouten lett	[page 474]
ready 4 gold to thy meede.5 ”
“ I will none of thy gold,” the Porter said,	the porter
672	“ nor yett, ISjjwphrey, none of thy ffee ;
but I will open the gates wyde,
& receiue thy mules and thee,6
“ffor a Cheshire man borne am I,
676 ffrom the Malpas7 but miles three.” the porter opened the gates soone,
& receiued him & the Mules three ;
the best wine readilye 8 then 680	to Humphrey Bretton giueth hee.
“ alas ! ” sayd Humphrey, “ how shall I doe ? for I am stead 9 in a strange countrye ;
is a Cheshire man,
and lets him in,
1	Begeram.—-Harl.
2	gan he.—P. Read f gone he can.’— Dyce.
3	and.—Harl.
4	red.—Harl.
5	Read ‘ fee.’—Dyce.
6	the and thy mules three.—Harl.
7	A town in Cheshire.—E.
8	radlye.—Harl.
9	stad.—Harl.348
LADYE BESSIYE.
“ the Prince of England 1 2 I do not know ; 684 before I did him nener see.” and shows	“ I shall thee teach,” said the Porter then,
him	’	’
“ the Prince of England to know trulye.
Richmond
shooting.
He may-know the Earl by his long pale face,
“loe, where he shooteth att the butts, 688	& w^'th him are hords three;
he weareth a gowne of veluett blacke, & itt is coted abone his knee ; w^th long visage & pale;
692 therby the Prince know may yee ;
and a wart above his chin.
“ a priuye wart, withouten lett,
2 a litle abone the chin ; his face h[i]s white, the wart is red, 696 therby yon 3 may him ken.”
Humphrey
goes to Richmond,
now ffrom the Porter is he gone;
w^th him hee tooke the Mnles 3 : to Erie Richmand he went anon 700 where the other LorcZs bee.4
and gives him Bessye’s letter, her money,
when 5 he came before the Prince, lowlye hee kneeled vpon his knee ; he delinked 6 the lettre that Bessye sent, 704	& soe he did the mnles three,
and her ring.
Richmond kisses the ring,
['&] a rich ring w^th a stone.
there the prince glad was hee ; he tooke the ring att Humphrey then, 708	& kissed itt times 3.
1	There is a tag at the end of this word in the MS. like an s.—F.
2	he hathe.—Harl.
3	full well yee.—Harl.
4	dyd bee.—Harl.
5	And when.—Harl.
6	And delivered hym.—Harl.LADYE BESSIYE.
349
Humphrey kneeled still as any stone, assuredlye as I tell to thee1;
Humphrey of the Prince word gatt none,	but does not
712 therfore2 in his hart hee was not merrye.	Humphrey,
Humphrey standeth vpp then anon ;	who thej
to the prince these words said hee,	getsup
“ why standeth 3 thon soe still in this stead,
716	& no answer ¿Loes 4 gine mee P
“ I am come ffrom the Stanleys bold, King of England to make thee,
& a ffaire Lady to thy ffere,5 720 there is none such in Christentye;
tells him he comes from the Stanleys to make him King and give him a Queen.
“ shee is Countesse,6 a Kmga daughter, the name of her is 7 Bessye, a lonelye Lady to looke ypon,
724	& well shee can worke by profeeye.
“ I may be called a lewd 8 messenger, for answer of thee I can gett none ;
I may sayle hence wtth a heany heart ;
728 what shall I say when I come home 9 ? ”
the prince tooke the Lord Lisle,
& the Erie of Oxford was him by 10 ; they hord fferres wold him not beguile ; 732 to 11 councell thé goeth all 3.
What
answer is he to give them?
Richmond consults his friends,
736
when they had their councell tane,
to Humphrey Bretton turneth hee, ‘ answer, Humphrey, I can giue none for12 the space of weekes 3.	and says he can give no answer for three
	weeks.
1 tell thee.—Harl.	7 it is.—Harl.
2 i. e. on that account.—P.	8 lowte.—Harl.
3 standest.—Harl.	9 howme.—Harl.
4 thou doest.—Hart	10 nee.—Harl.
5 fere.—P.	11 to a.—Harl.
6 a cowntas.—Harl.	12 not for.—Harl.350
LADYE BESSIYE.
“ when 3 weekes are come & gone,
Then an answer I will1 gine thee.” [page 475] He rips up	the mules into a stable are tane ;
the mules’
saddles,	740 the saddle skirtts then rippeth hee;
takes out the	therin he ffindeth gold great plentye
money,
tor to wage a companye.2 he caused the houshold to make him cheare ; 744	“ in 3 my stead lett him be$.”
Erly in the morning, as soone as itt was day,4 wt'th him he tooke the Lords three, and goes to	& straight to paris he tooke the way,
to buy arms.	748 there armes to make readye.5
He asks the King of France for help
and ships.
to the 'King of ffrance wendeth hee,6 of men and mony he doth him pray,
7 that he wold please to Lend him shipps, 752	& ffor to bring him ouer the sea : 7
“ the Stanleys stout ffor me haue sent, King of England ffor to make mee,
& if euer I weare the crowne,
756 well quitt the King of ffrance shalbe.’*
The King
refuses
them.
then answereth the King of ffrance,
& shortlye answereth,8 “by St. Iohn, 9 no shipps toN bring him ouer the seas, 760 men nor money bringeth he none ! ” 9
1	shall.—Harl.
2	Only half the n in the MS.—E.
3	And saith in.—Harl.
4	Yerlye on the other mornyng Assonno as yt was breake of daye.—Harl.
5	A herotte of armes they readye
made,—Harl.
6	then wyndeth.—Harl.
7“’7 And shippes to brynge hym ovev the seae.—Harl.
8 sweareth shortlye.—Harl.
9-9 men nor money getteth he none, nor shippes to brynge hym oyer the foam e.—* Harl.LADYE BESSIYE.
351
thus the Prince his answer hath tane.
both the Prince & Lords gay 1 to Biggeram abbey rydeth hee,
764 wheras2 Humphrey Bretton Lay.
“ haue heere Hum.phrey a 100 3 markes ;
better rewarded shalt thou bee ; comend me to Bessye, that Oountesse cleere,—
768	& yett I did neuer her see,—
“ I trust in god shee shall be my Queene, for her I will trauell the sea. comend me to my ffather Stanley,—
772 my owne mother marryed hath hee,—
“ bring him here a loue lettre^
& another to litle Bessye ; tell her I trust in the Lord of might 776 that my Queene shee shalbee.
“ Comend me to Sir william Stanley, that noble 'Knight in the west countrye ; tell him, about Miechallmasse 780 I trust in god in England to bee.
“ att Mylford hauen I will come in,
With all the power that I can bringe ;4 the hirst towne that I may win 6 784 shalbe the towne of shrewsburye.
“ pray Sir william, that noble Knight, that night that hee 6 wold looke on mee. comend me to Sir Gilbert Talbott that is soe wight ; 788 he lyeth still in the north cuntrye.”
1 and the English Lordes gaye.—Harl.	4 powers I brynge with
2 there as.—Harl.	5 myn.—Harl.
8 thousand.—Harl,	6 nyghte he.—Harl.
Richmond rides back to
Humphrey^
gives him 100 marks,
and bids him tell Bessye
he will come to her ;
tell Sir
William
Stanley
that about Michaelmas he will land
at Milford Haven,
and take Shrewsbury.
Harl.352
LADYE BESSIYE.
Humphrey will none of Richmond’s gold : he is his.
“ I will none of thy gold, Sir Prince, nor yett none 1 of thy ffee; if euery haire of my head were a man,
792 w^th yon, Sir Prince, that they shold 2 bee.”
Humphrey
returns to Lord Derby,
thus TLmphrey his leaue hath tane,
& fforth hee sayleth ypon the seas ; straight to London can he ryde,
79G there as the Erie and Bessye Lyes.
he tooke them either a le^re in hand,
& bade them reade 3 and see.
. the Erie tooke leane of Richard the Kmg, goesthen	800	& into the west rydeth hee.
westward,
leaving Bessye at Leicester.
& leaneth Bessye att Leicecster,
& bade her lye there in 4 prinitye :
“ ifor if Kmg Richard knew thee there, 804 in a ffyer brent mnst thou bee.”
He sends Lord
Strange to
King
Richard.
straight to Latham is he gone,
Where the Lord strange he did 5 Lye, [page 476] & sent the Lord strange to London 808 to keepe Kmg Richard 6 7 companye.
On
Richmond's side are Sir William Stanley, with 10,000 men ;
then to 7 Sir william Stanley, w^th 7 10000 cotes in an howers warning readye to bee : they were all as red as 8 blood,
812 there they harts head 9 is sett full hye.
1	I wyll non.—Harl.
2	the, sir prynce, shoulde they.—Harl.
3	looke, reade.—Harl.
4	lye in.—Harl.
5	Strange dyd.—Harl.
6	keepe Bichard.—Harl.
7	No then to, or with, in Harl.—R
8	were read as any.—Harl.
9	The Stanley arms (Lancashire and Earl of Derby) are, argent, on a bend azure, three bucks’ heads cabossed or. Berry’s Encyc. Herald. The red cotes must have been worn by the Stanley followers.—E.LADYE BESSIYEé
353
S^'r Gilbert Talbott, 10000 doggs 1	sir Gilbert
.	.	_	Talbot, with.
m an howers warning readye to be.	10,000;
Sir lohn Sanage, 1500 white hoods,2	sir John
816 ffor they will flight & neuer fflee.	i50ofe,Wlth
Sir Edward Stanley, 300 men;
there were no better in Christentye. Rice 3 apthomas, a Knight of wales, 820	800 4 spere-men brought hee.
Sir Edward Stanley,with 500;
Rice
ap Thomas, with 800.
[Part V.]
[How Richmond lands in England, and marches to Bos worth.]
Sftr William Stanley, att the holt hee lyes,
& looked ouer his head soe hye ;
“ which way standeth the wind ? ” 5 he sayes ; 824	46 if there be 6 any man can tell mee.”
Sir William Stanley says
^ “ The wind itt standeth south west,”
5? parte a
soe 7 sayd a 'Knight that stood him 8 by. 44 this night, yonder royall prince, into England entreth hee.”
Richmond lands in England tonight.
he called that9 gentleman that stood him by, his name was Rowland Warburton, he bade him goe to Shrewsburye that night,
832	& bade them lett that prince in come.
He sends
Warburton
to
Shrewsbury, to order Richmond to be admitted.
1	dogges.—Harl. A talbot is a kind of mastiff. Different branches of the Talbot family have a talbot for their «rest, or 3 hounds for their arms.—F.
2	The Savage arms are lions. The white hoods must have been worn by the retainers.—F.
3	Sir Ryse ap.—Harl.
YOL. III.
4	eighte thousand.—Harl.
5	where standeth the wynde then. Harl.
6	is there.—Harl.
7	see.—Harl.
8	hinn in the MS.—F.
9	a.—Harl.354
LADYE BESSIYE.
by that1 Howland came to Shrewsburye tbe portcullis was letten downe ; the called tbe Prince in ffull great scorne,
836	& said “ in England be sbold weare no crowne.”
Warburton	Bowland bethought bim of a wile,
throws tbe	.
orders into	& tyed tbe writtings to a stone ;
the town,	J	&
be threw tbe writtings ouer tbe wall, 840	& bade tbe baliffes looke tbem vpon.
and tbe gates are thrown open.
Richard
then tbey opened tbe gates wyde,2
& mett tbe Prince w^tb processyon 3 ; be wold not abyde in sbrewsburye that nigbt, 844 for ~K.ing Bichard beard of bis cominge,
summons his Lords.
Percy, with
30,000 men ;
& called bis LorcZs of great renowne.4
Lord 5 Pearcye came to bim 6 tben,
& on bis knees be kneeled bim downe 848	7 & sayd, “ my leege, I baue 30000 flighting men.”
Norfolk,
Surrey,
the Duke of Norffolke came to tbe Kmg, & downe be kneelefch on 8 bis knee ; tbe Erie of Surrey came wt’tb bim,
852 tbey were both in companye.
Bishop of Durham,
Sir William Bawmer, Scroope and Kent,
with 20,000 men each ;
and Sir
William
Harrington.
the Bisbopp of Durham was not away, S^r william Bawmer stood bim by, tbe Lord scroope 9 & tbe Erie of Kent 856 tbey were both10 in companye :
11 “ & wee baue either 20000 men
11 ffor to keepe tbe crowne w^tb thee.” tbe good Str william Harrington 860 said tbey 12 wold flight & neuer fïlee.
1	then that.—Iiarl.
2	on eyerie syde.—Harl.
8 processioning. Sic legerim rythmi gratia.—P. procession.—Harl.
4	of renowne.^—Harl.
5	the Lorde.—Harl.
6	scil. to King Richard.—P.
7	saithe.—Harl.
8	upon.—Harl.
9 Scroope.—Harl.	^ 19 all.—Harl.
11	Harl. puts these lines before line 853, and lines 855, 856 after them, also before line 853.—F.
12	he.—Harl.LADYE BESSIYE.
355
King Richard made a messenger,	The King
sends to
& send into the west conntrye,
“ bidd the Erie of Derbye make him readye	Bord Derby,
J	-	he must
864	& bring 20000 men vnto mee,	brins 20,000
0	men,
“ or the Lord stranges 1 head I shall him send; strange for doubtlesse hee 2 shall dye.	sba11 die-
without hee come to me soone,3 4 ‘868 his o.wne sonne hee shall neuer see.”
then another Herald can appeare :
“ to Sir william Stanley that noble Knight,	stLi™™
bidd him bring 10000 men,	ioUooob org
. 872 or to4 death he shalbe dight.”	die*
then answered that donghtye 'Knight,	Sir william
& answered the herald 5 without lettinge :
[“ Say, on Bosworthe feilde I wyll hym meete 6 7]
876 On mnnday earlye in the morninge.	[page 477]
“ such a breakeffast I him hett7	defies the
King.
as nener subiect did to 8 Kinge ! ”	^
the messenger is home gone
880 to tell King Richard this tydand.9	Richard
the King 10 together his hands can ding,
& say[d], “ the Lord Strange 11 shall dye ! ”	orders Lord
hee bade, “ pnt him into 12 the tower,	to the Tower.
884 ffor 13 I will him nener see.”
1	Strange.—Harl.
2	nowe that he.—Harl.
3	full sonne.—Harl.
4	to the.—Harl.
5	spake to the heryotte.—Harl.
6	MS. pared away; line supplied from Harl.—E.
7	hett, i. e. promise.—P.
8	did knyghte to noe.—Harl.
9	tydinge, sic legerim Bythmi gratia. —P. tythinge.—Harl.
10	Then Bichard.—Harl.
11	MS. Stanley; but Strange, 1. 961, &c. —P. Strange.—Harl.
12	had putt hym in.—Harl.
13	for sure.—Harl.356
LADYE BESSIYE.
now leane wee Richard & his Lorcfe that were prest all1 w^th pryde,
&> talke wee of the Stanleys bold 2 888 that brought in the Prince of 3 the other side.
Richmond
Row is Richmond to Stafford come,
& Sir william Stanley to litle stone, the Prince had 1 cuer then any gold 892 Sir william Stanley to looke vppon.
sends to Sir William Stanley at Stone.
a messenger was readye made, that night to stone rydeth hee ;
Sir william rydeth to Stafford towne, 896 w^th him a small companye.
They meet at Stafford,
Richmond kisses him,
when the "Knight to Stafford came, that Richmond might him see, he tooke him in his armes then, 900	& kissed him times three:
u the welfare of thy body 4 * comforteth me more then all the gold in christentye ! ” then answered that royall Knight; to the Prince thus speaketh hee :
5 “ in England thon shalt weare the crowne, die,1 X"'1JS w	or else donbtlesse I will dye.
and Lady	a ffaire Lady thou shalt hind to thy ffere,
Bessye shall	...	J
be his wife. 908 as any 6 is in christentye,
a Kings daughter, a countesse clere; yea, shee is both wise & wittye.
and Stanley assures
Richmond 904
he’ll make
T-iiyv’i TTino* nr
1	all full.—Harl.
2	blood.—Harl.
3	broughte the pry nee on*—Harl.
4 MS. my.—F.	thy.—Harl.	thy
body, sic legèrim.—P.
5	Harl. inserts here :
Bemember, man, bothe daye and nyghte, whoe nowe doeth the moste for thee. -F.
6	is any.—Harl,LADYE BESS1YE.
357
“ I must goe to stone, my soneraigine, 912 ffor to comfort my men this night.” the Prince tooke him by the hand,
& sayd, “ffarwell, gentle 'Knight! ” 1
now is word comen to Sir william Stanley 916 Early on the snnday 2 morninge,
that the Erie of Darby, his brother deere, bad ginen battell to Richarcl the Kinge.
“ that wold I not,” said Sir william,
920	“ for all the gold in christentye,
except I were with him there, att the Battell ffor to bee.3 ”
Sir William Stanley hears that
Lord Derby has fought Richard.
then straight to Lichefeild can he ryde	He hastens
924 in all the hast that might bee.	t0 LlcMeia
& when they came to the towne, they all cryed “ King Henejry ! ”
then straight to Bosworth wold he ryde 928 in all the hast that might bee.
when they 4 came to Bosworth ffeild,
there they 5 mett with a royall companye.6	where are,
and then Bosworth;
1	A line is drawn here by'Percy, as if 3 at that battell myselfe.—Harl.
to mark the beginning of Part VI.—F.	4 and when he.—Harl.
2 vpon Sundaye in the.—Harl.	5 he.—Harl.	6 armye.—Harl.358
LADYE BESSIYE.
[Part VI]
[How Richmond fights and wins the Battle of Bosworth Field, and marries the Princess Elizabeth, Lady Bessy.
C The Erie of Darbye he was there,
932	1	& 20000 stoode him by;
6d; Parte \ Sir John Sayage, his sisters sone,
he was his nephew of blood soe nye,
_he had 1500 flighting men ;
936 there was no better in christentye.
Lord Derby,
Sir J. Savage,
Sir W. Stanley,
and Rice ap Thomas.
Sir william Stanley, that noble 'Knight, 10000 red Cotes had1 hee.
Sir Bice ap Thomas, he was there 940 with a 1000 2 speres mightye of tree.
Richmond asks Lord Derby to let him
lead the van.
Erle Bichmond came to the Erie of Darbye, & downe he kneeleth ypon his knee; he sayd,3 “ ffather Stanley, I yon 4 pray,
944 the yawward yon will 5 gine to me ;
Lord Derby
“ for I come for my right;
ffnll ffaine waged wold I bee.”
“ stand vp,” hee sayd, “ my sonne deere, 948 thon hast thy mothers blessing by mee;
consents, and puts Sir W. Stanley with him.
“ the vanward, sonne, I will thee gine;
ffor why, by me thon wilt [ordered be 6],
Sir William Stanley, my brother deere, [page 478] 952 in that battell he shalbee ;
1	that day bad.—Harl. On the * red cotes,’ see 1. 809.—F.
2	with ten thowsand.—Harl.
3	There is a tag at the end of this word
in the MS. like an s.—F.
4	the.—Harl.
5	voward thon woulde.—Harl.
6	MS. pared away.—F. ordered be. Harl.LADYE BESSIYE.
359
S?r lohn Sanage, that hath no peere,	savage is to
hee shall he a winge to thee ;	wing,
Srr Rice ap Thomas shall breake the wray,	Thomas6 ap
is to break
956 ffor he will flight & neuer fflee ;	King
.	.	Richard’s
& I my seife will houer 1 on this hill,	line.
that ffaire battell ffor to see.”
King Richard [honed 2 *] on the monntaines,	Richard sees
960	& was ware of the banner of the Lord 3 Stanley. banner, y
he said, “ ffeitch hither the Lo rd strange to me ffor donbtlesse hee shall dye this day.”
and bids
“ to the death, Lore?, make thee bowne !	strange
964 ffor by Mary, that mild mayde,4	die?are
thoh shalt dye ffor thy ynckles sake ! his name is william stanleye.”
“if I shold dye,” sayd the Lore? Strange, 968	“ as god fforbidd itt soe shold bee !
alas ffor my Lady att home,
itt shold be long ere shee mee see!
“ bnt wee shall meete att domesday,
97 2	when the great dome itt shalbee.”
he called a gentleman of Lancashire, his name was Latham trnlye,
Lord
Strange
laments for his wife.
& [a] ring5 beside his ffingar he tooke,	He sends her
976	& cast itt to the6 gentleman,	his ring,
& bade him “ bring itt to Lancashire, to my Ladye that is att home;
1	hove.—Harl.
2	hoved.-—Harl. looked mounts high.
See Lag. 441 [of MS.], St. 63. N.B.
Many of the follow? Stanzas are nearly
the same with those in Pag. 441 [of MS.
1. 497-548 of Bosworth Feilde, p. 253-5, above] q. vide.—P.
3	boulde.,—Harl.
4	maye.—Hyee.
5 a rynge.—Harl.	6 that.—Harl.360
LADYE BESSIYE.
“ att lier table sbee may sitt;
980 ere sbee see ber Lor^, itt may be Longe.
I bane no ffoot to scntt or 1 fflytt,
I must be Martyred2 witb tyrant stronge.
and tells her, if his uncle loses,
“ if itt ffortune my ynckle to lose tbe ffeild— 984 as god defend itt sbold soe bee !—
to take his son over the sea,
pray ber to take my eldest sonne & exile bim ouer tbe sea ;
that afterwards
he may-revenge his father’s death.
“ be may come in another time ;
988 by ffeild, ffrritb,3 tower or towne, wreake bee may bis ffatbers death
vpon Kmg Jiichard 4 that weares tbe crowne.”
Sir William Harrington asks Richard to wait till the other Stanleys
a Knight to tbe King did appeare,
992 good 5 Sir william Harrington ;
saies, “ lett bim baue bis liffe a while
till wee 6 baue tbe ffather, tbe ynckle, & tbe sonne.
are taken,
so that all may be killed together.
“ wee shall baue them soone on tbe ffeild,
996 tbe ffather, tbe ynckle, tbe sonne,7 all 3 ; then may you deeme them with yo^r mouth, what Kind of death that they shall dye.”
but a blocke on tbe ground was cast, 1000 therypon tbe Korda bead was Lay de ; an axe 8 ouer bis bead can stand,
& out of passyon9 itt was brayd.10
Richard
refuses,
be saitb, “ there is no other boote 1004 but that tbe 11 Lore? needs must dye.” Harrington beard itt, & 12 was ffull woe when itt wold no better bee :
1	feete to schunte nor.—Harl. scutt is the base of scuttle, move bustlingly.
F.
2	murdered.—Harl.
3	frygh.—Harl.
4	on Bichard of England.—Harl.
$ the gnde.—Harl.
6	ye.—Harl.
7	the sonn and the uncle.'—Harl.
8	a sawe.—Harl.
9	fashion.—Harl.
10	? flourished about.—F.
11	thou.—Harl.
12	harte yt.—Harl.LADYE BESSIYE.
361
he saith, “ onr raj breaketh on enery sjde;
1008 wee put our ffolke 1 in ieopardye.” tben tbey tooke vp tbe Lore? on liue ;
Kmg Richard did bim neuer see.
tben be 2 blew vp bewgles of brasse,
1012 tbe sbott 3 of guns were soe flree that [made] many wiues cry 4 alas,
& many children 5 ffatberlesse.
Rice 6 ap Tbomas with tbe blacke gowne,7 1016	shortlye he brake 8 tbe ray :
w^tb 30000 flighting men
tbe Lord Percy went bis way.
the Duke of Morfolke would baue filed;	Norfolk
1020 m'tb 20000 in 9 bis companye be went vp to 10 a wind-mill,
& stood vpon a bill soe bye,
there be mett Bir Iobn Savage, a valyant-11 'Knight;
1024 with bim a worthy companye : to tbe death tbe duke was dight,
& bis sonne, prisoner taken was bee.
tben tbey 12 Lore? dakers began to iflee,	Lord Dacres
1028 soe did many13 others more.14	flee.°t3ierS
when king Richard that sight did see,
[Tben bis heart15 was fiull w]oe : 16
is slain by Sir John Savage,
and his son taken.
Percy and 30,000 men leave him.
but his line is broken,
and Richard goes to fight.
1	feilde.—Harl.
2	they.—Harl.
8 schottes.—Harl.
4	made many wyves to.—Harl.
5	mony a childe.—Harl.
6	Sir Eyse.—Harl.
7	crowe.—Harl. ? his badge.—F.
8	made haste to breake.—Harl.
? of.—Harl,
10	unto.—Harl.
11	royall.—Harl.
12	the.—Harl.
13	Only half the n in the MS.—F.
14	moe.—P. other moe.—Harl,
15	in his harte he.—Harl.
ls Copied in by Percy. The line is nearly pared away in the MS.—F.362
LADYE BESSIYE.
Richard prays them to stay and die with him.
<£ I pray you, my men, be not away,
1032 ffbr like a man ffree 1 2 will I dye ! ffor I bad leuer dye tbis day,
tbe[n] 2 W7*th tbe Stanleys taken bee ! ”
[page 479]
a 'Knight to King Richard can say,3 1036 good4 Sir william of barrington,
Harrington	be saitb, “ wee are like all beere
says they	7
to tbe' death soone to be done ;—
can’t resist the Stanleys,
1040
Richard had better flee.
“ there may no man their strokes abyde, tbe Stanleys dints they beene soe stronge;— yee may come in another time ;
tberfore methinke yee tarry too longe ;
“ yo^r borsse is ready att yo^r band,
1044 another day yon may yo^r 5 wor shipp win, 22 & to raigne with royaltye,
& weare your 6 crowne & be onr King.”
But Richard swears he’ll die King of England.
“ gine1 me my battell axe in my band, 1048	& sett my crowne on 8 my bead so hye !
ffor by him that made both sunn & moone, King of England tbis day I will9 dye ! ”
His crown is hewed off him,
besides 10 bis bead the hewed tbe crowne, 1052	& dange on him as they were wood ;
and his helmet dashed into his head,
the stroke bis Basnett to bis bead
vntill bis braines came out w^tb blood.
and he is carried to Leicester.
Bessye
the carryed him naked ynto 11 Leicester, 1056	& bucketed bis haire vnder bis chin.
Bessye mett him with 12 merry cbeere; these were they words sbee sayd to him s
1	here.—Harl.
2	then.—Harl.
8	Yid. Pag. 442, St. 74 & sequentes [of MS.; p. 256, 1. 585 here].—P.
4	yt was gnde.—Harl.
5 yee maye.—Harl.	6 the.—Harl.
7	He said, give.—Harl.
8	Sett the crowne of England npon. —Harl.
9	will I.—Harl.
10	Besyde.—Harl.
11	into.—Harl.
12 with a.—Harl,LÀDYE BESSIYE.
363
“ liow likest thon they slaying of my brethren twaine ? ” 1
1060 shee spake these words to him alowde 2 :
“ now are wee wroken yppon thee heere ! welcome, gentle ynckle, home ! ”
taunts his corpse,
welcomes Lord Derby.
great solace itt was to see,
1064 I tell yon, masters, without lett, when they red rose of Mickle price & onr Bessye3 were mett.
The Red Rose and White meet,
a Bishopp them marryed w^th a ringe,	and are
1068 they 4 2 bloods of hye renowne.
JBessye sayd, “now may wee sing, wee tow bloods are made all one.”
the Erie of Darbye he was there,
1072	& Biv william Stanley a man of might;
ypon their heads they sett the crowne in presence of many a worthy wight.
Lord Derby and Sir William Stanley crown them.
then came hee 5 ynder a clond,
1076 that sometime in England was ffnll high 6 ; the hart began to cast his head ; after, noe man might itt see.
but god that is both bright & sheene,
1080	& borne was of [a 7] mayden ffree,
sane & keepe onr comelye King 8 & 9 the poore cominaltye !
ffinis.
God save
our King and the Commons !
1	the sleaying of my "brethren dere.— Harl.
2	alon.—Harl.
3	yonge Bessie togeder.—Harl.
4	the.—Harl.
5	Sir William Stanley. See 1.812.—F.
6	MS. hight. Read high, pronounced hee.—Hyce.
7	a.—Harl.
8	queene.—Harl.
9	and also.—Harl.364
$re toomtn ffattt.1
“ A yery imperfect copy of this song,” notes Percy, “ is in Pepys’ Merriments, vol. ii. p. 330.”
It is a handful of woman-abusing commonplaces, true enough perhaps of such specimens of the sex as the writer of them was likely to see or appreciate.
Women are fair, and sweet to those that love them;
“Are women ffaire ? ” I! wonderous ffaire to see too. “ are women sweete?” yea, passing [sweete2] they be too;
most ffaire & sweete to them that only lone them; chast & discreet to all sane those that prone them.
not wise,
but so witty, they beguile you;
“ Are women wise ? ” not wise ; bnt they be wittye. “ are women wittye ? ” yea, the more the pittye; they are soe wittye, & in witt soe whylye,3 8 that be yon neare soe wise, they will begnile ye.
not fools, but fond,
and never stable ;
“ are women ffooles ? ” not ffooles, bnt ffondlings many.
“ can women ffonnd4 be ffathfnll vnto any ? ” when snow-white swans doe tnrne to colonr sable,
12 then women ffond 5 will both be ffirme & stable.
not devils,	“ Are women S&mts ? ” no saints, nor yett no dinells.
“ are women good P ” not good, bnt needfnll enills;
but very	soe Angell-like, that dinells I doe not donbt them ;
needful ’	16 soe needffnll enills, that ffew can line w^'th-ont them,
evils.
1	a satire on Women. A very imperfect Copy of this Song is in Pepys MerrimA3, vol. 2, p. 330.—P.
2	sweet.—P.
3	wilye.—P.
4	Three strokes only for un in the MS. —F.
5	found.—F.ARE WOMEN FAIRE.
365
“Are women proud P ” I! passing proud, & praise1 tliem.
Proud they are,
are women kind ? I! wonderous kind, & 2 please and kind
when they
them,	like to be;
or soe imperyous,3 no man can endure them,
20 or soe kind-harted, any may procure them. ffinis. often too
kind.
1 praisinge was first written in the	hand.—F.	2 an’t, if it.—F.
MS., but the inge has been crossed out, 3 MS. imperious.—F. and an e written above it by a later
[“I Breamed my Loneprinted in ho. & Hum. Songs, p. 102, follows here in the MS. page 480.]366
% t Cautim.1
The author of The Treatyse of Fysshynge wyth an Angle, printed by Wynkyn de Worde in his edition of the Book of St. Alban’s in 1496, sets himself to “ dyscryue foure good disposes and honest games, that is to wyte, huntynge, hawkynge, fyshynge and foulynge,” in order to find out the best; which is the most fit mean and cause to “enduce man into a mery spyryte,” that brings a man “fayr aege and longe life;” for “Salamon in his parablys sayth that a good spyryte makyth a flourynge aege, that is, a fayre aege and a longe.” Our Fisher with an Angle proceeds with the description of the four sports as follows:
. . huntynge, as to myn entent, is to laboryous, for the hunter must alwaye renne and folowe his houndes : traueyllynge and swetynge full sore. He bio wyth till his lyppes blyster. And whan he wenyth' it be an hare, full oft it is an hegge hogge. Thus he chasyth, and wote not what. He comyth home at euyn, rayn-beten, pryckyd, and his clothes torne, wete-shode, all myry, Some hounde lost, some surbat.2 Suche greues and many other hapyth vnto the hunter, whyche, for dyspleysaunce of them y* loue it, I dare not reporte. Thus truly me semyth that this is not the beste dysporte and game of the sayd foure. The dysporte and game of hawkynge is laboryous and noyouse also, as me semyth. For often the igwkener leseth his hawkes as the hunter his homdes. Thenne is his game and his dysporte goon. Full often cryeth he and whystelyth tyll that he be ryght euyll a-thurste. His hawke taketh a bowe, and lyste not ones on hym rewarde.3 whan he wold haue her for to flee: thenne woll she bathe, with mys-fedynge she shall haue the Fronse 4 : the Bye : the Cray : and many
1	A Curious Old Song in praise of mouth. See “ Medicyne for the Frounce”
Falconry.—P.	in Rdiquia Antiques, i. 294, 297. The
2	. . surboted or riven of their skin. Rye is a sore in the nostrils, ib. i. 294;
Topsell, p. 689, in Halliwell.—F.	the Cray a disease of the ‘ fondement,’
3	look.	ib. i. 295. (The Booke of Hawleyng, after
4	The Fronse is a sore in a hawk’s Prince Edwarde, Kyng of Englande.)—F.A CAUILERE.
367
other syknesses that brynge them to the Sowse.1 Thus by prouff this is not the beste dysporte and game of the sayd foure. The dysporte and game of fowlynge me semyth moost symple. For in the wynter season the fowler spedyth not but in the moost hardest and coldest weder : whyche is greuous. For whan he wolde goo to his gynnes he maye not for colde. Many a gynne and many a snare he makyth. Yet soryly dooth he fare. At morn tyde in the dewe he is weete shode unto his taylle. Many other suche I cowde tell: but drede of magre2 makith me for to leue. Thus me semyth that huntynge and hawkynge and also fowlynge ben so laborous and greuous that none of theym maye perfourme nor bi very meane that enduce a man to a mery spyryte : whyche is cause of his long lyfe acordynge unto ye sayd parable of Salamon:	Dowteles thence folowyth it that it must
nedes be the dysporte of fysshynge with an angle. For all other manere of fysshyng is also laborous and greuous: often makynge folkes full wete and colde, whyche many tymes hath be seen cause of grete Infirmytees. But the angler maye haue no colde, nor no dysease nor angre, but yf he be causer hymself. For he maye not lese at the moost but a lyne or an hoke : of whyche he may haue store plentee of his owne makynge, as this symple treatyse shall teche hym. So thenne his losse is not greuous. and other greyffes may he not haue, sauynge but yf ony fisshe breke away after that he is take on the hoke, or elles that he catche nought: whyche ben not greuous. For yf he faylle of one he maye not faylle of a nother, yf he dooth as this treatyse techyth, but yf there be nought in the water. And yet atte the leesthe hath his holsom walke, and mery at his ease, a swete ayre of the swete sauoure of the meede floures : that makyth hym hungry. He hereth the melodyous armony of fowles. He seeth the yonge swannes : heerons,: duckes: cotes, and many other foules wyth theyr brodes; whyche me semyth better than alle the noyse of houndys : the blastes of hornys and the scrye of foulis that hunters, fawkeners, and foulers can make. And yf the angler take fysshe: surely thenne is there noo man merier than he is in his spyryte. % Also who soo woll yse the game of anglynge : he must ryse erly, whiche thyng is prouffyt-able to man in this wyse, That is to wyte : moost to the heele of his soule. For it shall cause hym to be holy, and to the heele of his body, For it shall cause him to be hole. Also to the encrease of his
1 ? death. « Dead as a fowl at souse,' 278). f To leape or seaze greedily upon, i. e. at the stroke of another bird de- to souze donne as a hanke.’ Florio, p. 48, scending violently on it. So explained eel. 1611. Halliwell.—F.
by Mr. Dyce (Beaumont $ Fletcher, vii,	2 Fr. malgre, ill will.—F,368
A CAUILERE.
goodys. For it shall make hym rycke. As the olde englysshe pro-uerbe sayth in this wyse. who soo woll ryse erly shall he holy helthy and zely.1 Thus have I pronyd in myn entent that the dysporte and game of anglynge is the very meane and cause that enducitli a man in to a mery spyryte : Whyche, after the sayde parable of Salomon and the sayd doctryne of phisyk, makyth a ilonrynge aege and a longe. And therefore to al yon that ben vertnons : gentyll : and free borne, I wryte and make this symple treatyse folowynge : by whyehe ye may hane the full crafte of anglynge to dysport yon at your luste: to the entent that your aege maye the more flonre and the more lenger to endure.
Now this is all very well for a quiet man with no devil in him ; but Crecy and Agincourt were not fought and won by men of this type; Nelson and Napier could hardly have been content to be fools at one end of a rod, with worms at the other. Nor could our Cauileere have accepted the reason of “Perkyn pe plou mon ” why knights should hawk:
fecclie J?e hom Faucuns • J?e Ponies to quelle,
Por J>ei comen in-to my croft • And Croppen my Wkete.
(William’s Vision of Piers Plowman, Pass. vn. p. 76, 1. 34-5, ed. Skeat.)
There are many men whom, more or less, Tennyson’s “ Sailor-boy ” represents, even in their sports:
My mother clings about my neck,
My sisters clamour “ stay for shame ! ”
My father raves of death and wreck :
They are all to blame ; they are all to blame.	;
God help me! Save I take my part Of danger on the roaring sea,
A devil rises in my heart,
Par worse than any death to me.
The electric force within them must out; the excitement that the chance of danger in the chase gives is necessary for them, is the condition of health for body and mind, which if cooped up in city and court would both become diseased ; the devil would rise. But the sportsman cares not to look at this negative side of the
1 A.-Sax. scelig, happy, lucky, blessed, prosperous. Bosworth.—F.A CAUILERE.
369
question: be knows that be loves bis sport; its toils are bis pleasures, its danger bis business to beat; bis horse, bis dog—in old time, bis hawk—is bis friend. What matters the chance of a fall, when you feel your horse going under you, and bear the hoofs of the field about you ? Sit' close, and take your chance, whatever it be.
Our ballad is by a man of the right breed. It has the true lilt in it; carries us back to bright old days, and makes us wish that all our workers could have something more of healthy outdoor life. Of the poem itself we know no other copy.—F.
4
8
Some : in their traine, & some in their game, doe sett their whole delight ; they[r] time 1 some doe passe wfih a comb & a glasse, to be loned in their mistresse sight ;
Some lone the chace, & some lone the race of the hare & of the ffearffull deere ;
Some delight in gain, others in adorning themselves,
others in hunting the hare;
bnt the branest delight is the ffawcon in her ffligh[t], but the when shee stoopes with. a cauileere*	flight beats
1	all.
12
16
ffor shee will mone inst like a done ;
when once her game shee doth ffind, shee clipps itt amaine, shee strikes itt a plane, bnt seemes 2 to outstripp the wind, shee fflyeth att once her marke Inmpe 3 vpon, & monnteth the we[l]kin 4 cleere ;
She flies at her game like the wind ; she soars aloft,
then right shee stoopes, when the ffalkner hee whoopes, triumphing in her canileere.
1	their time.—P.
2	MS. seenes.—F.
3	He set her on my selfe, a while, to
draw the Moor apart,
And bring him iumpe, when he may Cassio find
Soliciting his wife.—Othello, Actus Se-cundus, Scena Seeunda.—F.
4	welkin.—P.
B B
VOL. III.370
A CAUILERE.
In a moments space shee will better place 1 as tbongb sbee did disdaine to carrye 2 ; the eartb is soe 3 neere, sbee mountetb tbe sphere, and makes 20	& maketh tbe clouds ber qnarrey,4
her quarry.	till tbe ffawkner quite now; batb Lost ber sight,
& ber bells no longer can beare ; then listening 5 to a starr, be espyes ber affarr,
She stoops, 24 come stooping with a cauileere.
and her master rushes through
thorn and wood to meet her
with a ringing cheer.
Then comes be in, through tbicke, through thin, as nothing can bis passage stay; bis paines doth him please, bis pleasure doth him ease, 28 through studds,6 through woods, is bis way.
be fforceth not7 to sweat, though breatbles with beat, but with a resounding Cbeare be reacbetb fforth bis tbrote, & wboopetb ffbrth bis note,
32 triumphing in her cauileere.
He’s free from care,
and sleeps at his ease. His falcon’s bells are his chimes.
He is ffree ffrom court & Cittyes resort,
& thus bis boures doth imploye ; tbe brooke & tbe ffeild him pleasure doth yeeld;
36	theres nothing interrupts bis ioye.
bis paines doth him please when be sleepeth att ease;
but this ffawcon, when day doth appeare, ber bells are bis Chimes when be risetb betimes 40	triumphing in ber Cauileere.
ffinis.
1	pace, or her place.—P.
2	tarry.—P.
3	too.—P.
4	? MS. qurwey.—P.
5	lessen^, or less? query.—P.
6	Lin. 4. perhaps stubbs, i. e. short
stamps of cat anderwood, tho’ studds signify Posts. See Pag. 407, St. 7 [of MS.]—P.
7	doesn’t mind: cp. ‘ no force,’ it’s no matter, of no conseqaence.—F.371
$ flrqpttpt.
The hero of this strange piece is obviously James I. The earlier verses are, no doubt-, prophecies founded on fact—prophecies after the event—as indeed is not unfrequently the case with prophecies, they being but chapters of history with the tenses altered and the language darkened. After verse sixteen our author either turns satirical, or perchance indulges in a wild dream born of his ardent Protestantism arid his study of the book of Joel. We prefer the latter supposition, and conjecture that the poem was written about the time of the beginning of the Thirty Years’ War. The writer sympathised with the cause of the Elector Palatine. The general excitement in this country in the Winter King’s behalf was unbounded. “ The Protestants of England,” says Mr. Knight,66 were roused to an enthusiasm which had been repressed for years. Volunteers were ready to go forth full of zeal for the support of the Elector. James was professing an ardent desire to Protestant deputies to assist his son-in-law, and at the same time vowing to the Spanish ambassador that the alliance with his Catholic master, which was to be cemented by the marriage of Prince Charles to the Infanta, was the great desire of his heart. At length the Catholic powers entered the Palatinate; and the cry to arm was so loud amongst the English and Scotch that James reluctantly marshalled a force of four thousand volunteers, not to support his son-in-law upon the throne of Bohemia, but to assist in defending his hereditary dominions.” At this crisis, wre should suggest, the following piece was composed. The Prophet, rejoicing that the darling wish and hope of his Protestant heart is about to be realised, recognises in the King who has sent forth the expedition him who, after grand
B B 2372
A PEOPECYE.
successes achieved in the Occident, is to fight that great final battle in the valley of Jehoshaphat.
The news that reached England towards the end of the year 1620 must have sadly disappointed the poor visionary. This once hopeful monarch proved but a traitor to the Good Cause. Perhaps he was the one who was to be vanquished—not to vanquish—at Armageddon.
A prince from the North shall come,
called J. S.,
find good fortune,
and couch as a lion.
He calls a parliament, and at once breaks it up. Then, roused by foreign foes, he draws his sword
and punishes them,
A : Prince out of the north shall come, [page48i] Kmg borne, named babe; his brest vpon, a Lyon rampant strong to see,
4 and IIS1 Icclippedd hee :
borne in a country rnde & stonye,2 yett hee conragyons, wise, & holy; att best of strenght, his ffortnnes best 8 he shall receine, & therin rest, coach as a Lyon in the den,
& lye in peace soe long till men shall wonder, & all christendome 12 thinke the time long, both all and some.
Att Last he calls a Parlaiment,
& breakes itt straight in discontent;3 & shortly then shall roused bee 16 by enemyes beyond the sea.
but when in wrath he drawes his sword,4 woe that the sleeping Lyon stnred ! ffor ere he sheath the same againe,
20 he puts his foes to mickle paine.
1	.James Stuart. The l before J. S. may he a c : the two letters are often exactly alike.—F.
2	Scotland.—F.
8 James’s second Parliament, which met April 5, 1614, and was dismissed
angrily, without passing a single act,
because it declined to grant supplies till the illegal impositions and other grievances were redressed.—F.
4 ? referring to the 4000 volunteers whom he sent to defend the Palatinate in 1620.—F.A PROPECYE.
373
& vallyant actes lie shall then doe, great Alexanders fíame outgoe : he passeth seas, & fíame doth winn,
24	& many princes ioyne w^th him,
& chnse him fíor their gouernor,
& crowne him westerne Emperonr;1 after a while he shal be-girt 28 that cittye ancyent and great which vpon 7 hills scitnate, till hee her all hane ruinate, then shall a fíoe fírom east appeare,
32 the brinkes of one great riner neere; this Lyon rampant him shall meete;
& iff on this side hee shall flight, the day is Lost: bnt hee shall crosse 36 this riner great, & being past,
shall in the strenght of his great god, into his ffoes discouraging rode, causing him thence take his fflight,
40 of Easterne Kings succour to seekee ; during which time he is in owne 2 of East & west crowned Emperowne. then shall the ffoe in ffury burne,
44	& fírom the East in hast returne—
wffh aid of Km^s & princes great— to the valley of Iehosaphatt: then shall hee meete the Lyon stronge,
48 who in a battell ffeirce & longe
shall ffoyle his ffoe. then cruell death shall take away his aged breath. ffinis.
outdoing
Alexander’s
fame,
and being
crowned
Western
Emperor.
Then he
shall besiege
Rome,
meet his eastern foe,
and rout him.
But the foe shall return, reinforced,
and be routed
again, in the valley of Jehosha-phat.
Then the Emperor shall die.
1 James I. was proclaimed by the new his medals lie assumed the title of title of “ King of Great Britain, France,	Imperator.—F\
and Ireland,” on Oct. 24, 1604; but on 2 ? one.—F.374
¿ttattolfnt«1
This ballad occurs in the Roxburghe Collection (reprinted in Collier’s Booh of Roxburghe Ballads, p. 104, and from it in Professor Child’s English and Scottish Ballads), and in the Collection of Old Ballads.
“ This narrative-ballad,” says Mr. Collier, “ which is full of graceful but unadorned simplicity, is mentioned in Fletcher’s Monsieur Thomas (Act III. sc. 3), [see Introduction to the Rose of Englande\ by the name of Maudlin the Merchant’s Daughter. Two early editions of it are known ; one, without printer’s name (clearly much older than the other), is that which we have used; we may conclude that it was written considerably before James I. came to the throne. It was last reprinted in 1738, but in that impression it was much modernised and corrupted.”
[The first Fitt.]
Maudlin, a Bristol merchant's daughter,
is loved by a
neighbour-
youth,
but her friends
BEHOLD : the touchstone of true loue,
Maudlin, the Merchants daughter of Bristow 2 towne, whose ffirme affection nought3 cold moue !
4 this 4 ffauor beares the louely browne. a gallant youth was dwelling by,
-which long time 5 had borne this Lady great good will ;
shee loued him most ffaithffully,
8 but all her ffreinds w^thstoode itt still.
1 In the printed Collection of Old 2 Bristol.—O.B.	3 nothing.—O.B.
Ballads, 12“°, vol. 3, p. 201. N. 37.—P.	4 Her.—O.B.
In two Fitts.—F.	5 O.B. omits time.—F.MAUDLINE.
375
the young man now perceiuing well
lie cold not gett nor winn1 the fauor of her ffreinds, the fforce of sorrow to expell,
12 to 2 yew strange countryes hee intends;
& now to take his last Harwell
of his true loue & 3 constant Maudlin, w^th sweet musicke,4 that did excell,
16 he playes ynder her windowe then:
“ far well,” quoth he, “ my owne true Loue !
a Harwell,” quoth, he, “the cheeffest tres[ure of my Heart] 5
Throughe ffortunes 6 spite, that ffalse did proue, [page 482] I am inforcet ffrom thee to parte into the Land of Italye 7;
there will I waite & weary out my dayes 8 in woe. seing my true loue is kept ffrom mee,
I hold my liffe a mortall ffoe. therfore, ffaire Bristow towne, now adew ! 9 for Padua shalbe my habitation now although my loue doth Lodge 10 in thee,
to welcome [whom] 11 alone my heart I yow.” with trickling 12 teares this did hee singe ;
w^th 13 sighes & sobbs discendinge from his hart full sor[e],
he said, when hee his hands did wringe,
32	“ Harwell, sweet loue, ffor euer-more! ”
ffaire Maudline from a window hye
beholding14 her true loue with Musicke where he sto[ode],
20
24
28
oppose the match.
So he resolves to go and see strange countries,
and
serenades his love before going.
In Italy he’ll spend his days in woe,
and forsake Bristol for Padua.
He sighs and sobs
and wrings his hands, and bids his love farewell.
1	wim in the MS. O.B. omits nor winn.—F.
2	And.—O.B.
3	his fair and.—O.B.
4	Mnsick sweet.—O.B.
5	MS. pared away: the . . heart read by the help of, or supplied from Old Ballads, which omits quoth he.—F.
6	? MS. pared away.—F.
7	fair Italy.—O.B.
8	Life.—O.B.
9	Fair Bristol Town therefore adieu. —O.B.
10	rest.—O.B.
11	whom.—O.B.
12	tickling.—O.B.
13	O.B. omits with.—F.
14	See.—O.B.376
MAUDLINE.
She dares not answer him,
but weeps all night,
and vows she’ll give up her family and follow her love.
She gets up
and finds a
master
seaman
waiting to see her father.
She takes
him into a parlour,
. but not a word sbee durst1 replye,
36 bearing her parents angry inoode.
in teares sbee spends tbis 2 woefnll night,
wishing her3 (though naked) with her baithfull ffrein[d].
shee blames her ffriends & ffortunes spight 40	that wrought their 4 Loue such Luckless end;
& in her hart shee made a yowe,
cleane to borsake her country & her kinsfolkes 5 all, & bor to ffollow her true loue 44 to bide what 6 chance that might beball. the night is gone & the day is come,
& in the morning verry early shee did rise ; shee getts her downe to the 7 Lower roome,
48 where sundry seamen shee espyes,
A gallant Master amongst them all,— the master of a gallant 8 shipp was hee,— which, there stood 9 waiting in the hall 52 to speake with her bather, if itt might bee. shee kindly takes him by the hand;
“good Swr,” she said,10 “wold yee speake w^'th any heere P ”
q^oth hee, “ ffaire mayd, therfore 111 stand.”
56	“ then, gentle Sh*, I pray you come 12 neere
Into a pleasant purl our by.”
with13 hand in hand shee brings the seaman all alone; sighing to him most pyteouslye,
60 shee thus to him did make her moane ;
) did.—O.B.
2	spent that.—O.B.
3	herself.—O.B. The ‘naked’ alludes to the early custom of sleeping naked, occasionally mentioned in romances. The authority of early illuminated MSS. is also cited for it; but as kings and queens in bed are almost always drawn with their crowns on, and lying flat on their backs, one does not feel compelled to accept the illuminators’ authority for the
nakedness any more than the crowns. —E.	4 her.—O.B.
5 ? MS. kinflfolkes.—E.	To forsake her Country and Kindred.—O.B.
6 abide all.—O.B.	7 into a.—O.B.
8	a great and goodly.—O.B.
9	Who there was.—O.B.
10	said she.—O.B.
11	and therefore I do.—O.B.
12	I pray draw.—O.B.
13	O.B. omits with.—F.MAUDLINE.
377
shee falls vpon her tender 1 knee,
“good Sir,” shee said, “now pitty yee a womans ease,2
falls on her knees to him,
prays him
64
68
72
76
& prone a ffaithffull freind to mee,	to hear her
troubles,
that I to yon my greeffe may show ! ”
“ sith yon repose your trnst,” hee sayd,
“ to me that am ynknowne,3 & eke a stranger heere, he yon assured, proper 4 maid,
most ffaithfull still I will appeare.”	and then
1	tells him
“ I hane a brother,” then q^oth shee,	that her
brother is
“ whom as my liffe 15 ffanor tenderlye.	paduain
In Padna, alas! is hee;
ffnll sicke, god wott, & like to dye ;
& 6 ffaine I wold my brother see,	and her
J	7	father won t
bnt that my father will not yeeld to let me goe. ^ier g010 therfore, good Sir, bee good 7 to mee,
& vnto me this ffanor show, some shippboyes garments bring to me,
that I disgnised may goe away ffrom hence 8 vn-
“ Bring me some shipboy’s clot hes,
80
84
knowne, •
& vnto sea lie goe with thee
if thns mnch ffreindshipp may 9 be showne.”
“ ffaire mayd,” q^oth hee, “ take heere my hand;
I will ffnlfill eche thing that yon now doe 10 desire, & sett11 yon saffe in that same Land,
& in that place where 12 yon reqnire ! ” shee gane him 13 then a tender kisse,
& saith, uyour servant, gallant Master, will I bee,14
and let me go with you.”
The seaman
promises to do all she wants.
She kisses him and says
& prone your ffaith-fnll ffreind ffor this.	she'd be his
88 sweet Master, fforgett15 not mee ! ”
1	bended.—O.B.
2	(said she) pity a Woman’s Woe.— O.B.
8 In me unknown.—O.B.
4	most beauteous.—O.B.
5	I love and.—O.B.
6	Full.—O.B.	7 kind.—O.B.
8 O.B. omits away from hence.—F.
9 Favour might.—O.B.
10	O.B. omits now doe.—F.
11	see.—O.B.
12	the Place that.—O.B.
13	to him.—O.B.
14	said, Your Servant, Master, I will be.—O.B.
15	then forget.—O.B.378
MACDLINE.
He brings her the boy’s clothes.	92
She. puts them on,
and goes with him
before her 96 father.
[page 483]
Her mother comes in,
saying their 100 daughter is gone.
‘‘That yile wretch has enticed her: we shall find him in	104
Padua.”
“ This youth is going there.”
108
112
The mother, not knowing her
daughter, gives her 20 crowns to tend home news of
herself,	116
this done, as they had both decreede,1
soone after, earlye before the 2 breake of day, he brings her garments then w^th speed, wherin shee doth her-selfe 3 array.
& ere her ffather did arise,
shee meetes her Master walkeing 4 in the hall; shee did attend on him likwise
euen vntill5 her ffather did him call, bnt ere 6 the Marchant made an end
Of all the matter to the blaster .he cold saye,7 his wiffe came weeping in w^'th speed, saying, “ our daughter is gone away ! ” the marchant, much 8 amazed in minde,
“yonder vile wretch intieed away my child 9 ! ” but well 110 wott I shall him ffind att Padua or in Italy e.” 11 W'dh that bespake the Master braue:
“ worshippffull 'Master,12 thither goes this pretty youth,13
& any thing that you wold haue,14
he will perfforme itt,15 & write the truth.”
“ sweete youth,” quofla shee,16 “ if itt be soe, beare me a lettxQ to the English Marchants 17 there, & gold on thee I will bestowe;
my daughters welfare I doe ffeare.” her mother takes 18 her by the hand :
“faire youth,” q^oth shee, “if19 thou dost my daughter see,
leitt me therof soone 20 ynderstand,
& there is 20 crownes ffor thee.”
1	agreed.—O.B.
2	after that by.—O.B.
8 Therein herself she did.—O.B.
4	as he walked.—O.B.
5	Until.—O.B.
6	But here.—O.B.
7	Of those his weighty Matters all that Day.—O.B.
8	then.— O.B.
9	intic’d my Child away.—O.B.
10	I well.—O.B.
11	In Italy at Padua.—O.B.
12	Merchant.—O.B.
13	this Youth.—O.B.
14	crave.—O.B.
15	perform.—O.B.
10 he.—O.B.
17 the English.—O.B. 18 took.—O.B.
19	Youth, if e’er.—O.B.
20	soon thereof.—O.B.MAUDLINE.
379
thus, through the daughters strange disguise,
the mother knew not when shee spake vnto her child;
& 1 after her master straight shee hyes,	and Maudlin
120	taking her leaue wrfch countenance my Id.
thus to the sea ffaire 2 Maudlin is gone	goes to sea
with her gentle mastev. god send them a merry master, wind !
where 3 wee a while must leaue them alone,4 124 till you the second fitt5 doe ffind.
[The Second Fitt.]
f" “ welcome, sweet Maudlin, ffrom the sea 2d arte < w^ere hitter stormes & tempests doe rise 6 !
: ^	| the pleasant bankes of Italye
128	L wee 7 may behold wrfch morttall eyes.”
thankes, gentle m aster” then quoth. 8 shee,
“ 9 a ffaithffull ffreind in all sorrowes hast thou 10 beene!
if ffortune once doe smile on mee,
132 my thankffull hart shall then11 be seene. blest be the hand that ffeeds my loue,
blest be the place wheras his person 12 doth abyde ! nor 13 try all will I sticke to proue 136 wherby my good will14 may be tryde. now will I walke wrfch ioyffull hart
to yew the towne wheras my darling15 doth remaine, & seeke him out in euery part 140 vntill I doe his sight attaine.” 16
Maudlin and her master land in Italy.
She thanks him for his kindness,
and says shell
walk about till she finds
her love.
1	Then.—O.B.
2	sweet.—O.B.
8	? MS. when. The n (or re) is blotted ont in the MS.—F. Where.— O.B.
4	all alone.—O.B.
5	Part.—O.B.
6	arise.—O.B.
7	You.—O.B.
9	There is a tag like an s at the end of this word.—P.
10	in Sorrow thou hast.—O.B.
11	My gratitude shall soon.—O.B.
12	wherein he.—O.B.
13	No.—O.B.
14	true Love.—O.B.
15	wherein he.—O.B.
16	Until his Sight I do obtain.—O.B.
8 said.—O.B.380
MAUDLINE.
The Master says he’ll
see her safe to Padua.
At last she
arrives
there,
and finds her lover condemned to death unless he’ll turn Papist.
Maudlin
wails,
“ & I,” q^oth hee, “ will not fforsake
Sweete Maudlin in her sorrowes vp & downe ; in wealth & woe, thy ipart He take,
144	& bring thee saffe to Padua towne.”
& after many weary stepps
In Padua thé arriued saffely 1 att the Last : for verry ipy her harte itt leapes,
148 shee thinkes not on her perills 2 past, condemned hee was to dye, alas,
except he wold ffrom his religion turne ; but rather then hee wold goe to 3 masse,
152 in ffiery fflames he vowed to burne. now doth Maudlin weepe and waile,
her ioy changed to weeping,4 sorrow, greeffe &
walks under the prison walls,
and hears her lover hid farewell to England,
friends,
,and love.
care;
but nothing can 5 her plaints preuaile,
156 ffor death alone must be his share, shee walked vnder the prison walls
where her true loue doth lye & languish 6 in distresse; most7 woeffullye for ffood hee calls 160 when hungar did his hart oppresse ; he sighes, & sobbs, & makes great moane ;
“ farwell,” he said, “ sweete England, now8 for eu-ermore!
& all my ffreinds that haue me knowne 164 In Bristow towne w^th health9 and store ! but most of all, Harwell,” q^oth hee,
“ my owne true loue,10 sweet Maudim, whom I left behind!
for neuer more I shall see thee.11 168 woe to thy ffather Most vnkind !
1	O.B. omits saffely.—P.
2	Sorrows.—O.B.
3	would to.—O.B.
4	O.B. omits weeding.—F.
5	For nothing could.—O.B.
6	Love did languish.—O.B.
7	Then.— O.B.
8	Farewel, Sweet-heart, he cry’d.— O.B.
9	Wealth.—O.B.
10	O.B. omits true loue.—F.
,u thou wilt me see.—O.B.MAUDLINE.
381
how well were I if thou were 1 here,
with thy ffaire hands to close yp both these2 wretched eyes !
my torments easye wold appeare ;
172 My soule with ioy shall 3 scale the styes.” [page484]
176
180
when Maudlin hard her louers moane,
her eyes with teares, her hart with sorrow, feild.4 to speake with him noe meanes was knowne,5 such greeuous doome on him did passe.6 then cast shee of 7 her Ladds attyre;
a maydens weede ypon her backe shee8 seemlye sett; to 9 the iudges house shee did enquire,
& there shee did a service gett.
Maudlin
sorrows,
but cannot speak to her lover.
She dresses again as a girl,
takes service in the judge’s house,
shee did her duty there soe well,
& eke soe prudently shee did her-selfe 10 behaue,
with her in Loue her Master Sell,
184 his servants flavor he doth crane :
and he falls in love with her,
188
192
196
“MaudZm,” q^oth hee, “ my harts delight, to whome my hart in aflectyon is tyed,11 breed not my death through thy despite !
a fiaithflull flreind I wilbe 12 tryed ; grant me thy loue, ffaire mayd,” q^oth hee,
“ & att my hands 13 desire what tho[u] canst d[e]-uise,14
& I will grant ifct vnto thee, wherby thy creditt may arrise.”
“ I haue [a] 15 brother, Sir,” shee sayd,
“ flor his religion is now 16 condempned to dye; in Lothesome prison is he 17 Laid, opprest with care 18 and misery.
and promises her whatever she asks him.
She asks for the life of her brother, in prison for his belief.
1	I were if thou wert.—O.B.
2	close my.—O.B.
3	would.—O.B.
4	Heart soon filled was.—O.B.
5	found.—O.B.
6	did on him pass.—O.B.
7	she put off.—O.B.
8	Her Maiden-weeds upon her.—O.B.
9	At.—O.B.
10	so well herself she did.—O.B.
11	my Soul is so inclin’d.—O.B.
12	thou shalt me.—O.B.
18 And then.—O.B.
14	? MS. diuise.—F.
15	The a is written above the line in a later hand.—F.
16	O.B. omits now.—F.
17 he is.—O.B.	18 Grief.—O.B.382
MAUDLINE. •
“ He must recant or die! ”
“ Then let an English friar I know he sent to him.”
grant yon1 my brothers [life],” 2 shee sayd,
“ to yon my liffe 3 & liking I will gine.”
“ that may not be,” qaoth hee, “ faire mayd ;
200	“ except he tnrne, he cannott line.”
“ an English ffryer there is,” shee said,
“ of learning great, & of a passing pnre 4 liffe ; lett him to my brother be sent,
2f'4	& hee will soone finish5 the strife.”
The judge agrees. Maudlin dresses up the seaman as a friar, and sends him with a letter to her lover.
her Master granting 6 her reqnest,
the Marriner in ffryers weed 7 shee did array, & to her lone that lay distrest 208 shee doth a letter straight 8 connay. when he had read those gentle lines,
his heany hart was ranished w^th 9 ioye ; where now shee was,10 fihll well hee knew.
212
Her lover
charges her	g } 0
to leave Italy, as death awaits her there.
220
the ffryer Likewise was not coye, bnt did declare to him att large
the enterprise his lone had taken in hand, the yonng man did the ffryer charge
his lone shold straight depart the Land; “here is no place for her,” hee sayd,
“ bnt death & danger of her harmless 11 liffe ; & testing death,12 I was betrayd,
bnt13 ffearfnll flames mnst end onr strife,
for ere I will my faith deny,
& sweare to14 follow my selfe damned Antichrist,15
I will16 yeeld my body for to dye,
224	& 17 line in heanen w^th the hyest.”
1	me.—O.B.
2	Life.—O.B.
3	And now to you my Love.—O.B.*
4	passing pure of.—O.B.
5	finish soon.—O.B.
6	granted.—O.B.
7	Weeds.—O.B.
8	did a Letter soon.—O.B.
9	His Heart was ravish’d with plea-
sant.—O.B.
10	is.—O.B.
11	But woful Death and Danger of her. —O.B.
12	Professing Truth.—O.B.
13	And.—O.B.
14	MS. to to.—P.
15	And swear myself to follow damned Atheist.—O.B.
16	I’ll,—O.B.
17	To.—O.B.MAUDLÌNE.
383
“ 0 Sir,” tlie gentle ffryer sayd,
“ for yo^r sweet loue reccant, & sane youv wicked liffe.” 1
The seaman urges him to recant.
“ a woeffull match,” q^oth hee, “ is made,
228 where chr[i]st is left to win2 a wiffe.”
when shee had wrought3 all meanes shee might to sane her ffreind, & that shee saw itt4 wold not bee, then of the indge shee claimed her right 232 to [dye] 5 the death as well as hee. when no perswassyon wold 6 preuaile,
nor change her mind in any thing that shee had7 sayd,
shee was w^th him condemned to dye,	^
236 and for them both one Eire was made,8 & 9 arme in arme most Ioyffullye
these loners twaine vnto the ffyer they 10 did goe. the marriner most ffaith-ffullye 240 was likwise 11 partner of their woe : but when the Indges ynderstood •
the fFaith-ffull ffreindshipp that12 did in them re-
He refuses.
Then Maudlin resolves to die with him,
and both walk to the stake with the seaman.
But the judges
mame,
they saned their lines, & afterward 244 to England sent them home 13 againe.
Now was their sorrow turned to Ioy,
And ffaithffull loners had now 14 their harts desire ; their paines soe well they did imploy,
248 god 15 granted that they did require ;
& when they were16 to England come,
& in merry Bristowe arrined att the Last,
pardon them and send them home to England.
[page 485]
They get back to Bristol.
1	Consent thereto, and end the strife. -O.B.
2	gain.—O.B.
3	ns’d.—O.B.
4	To save his Life yet all.—O.B.
5	dye.—O.B.
6	could.—O.B.
7	thing she.—O.B.
8	MS. comdemned to dye. one Eire
was made.—O.B.
9	"Ypr,_o "R
10	O.B.' omits they.—F.
11	Two strokes for the first i,—F.
12	O.B. omits that.—F.
13	back.—O.B.
14	have.—O.B.
15	The d has a tag to it.—F.
16	did.—O.B.384
MAUDLINE.
find
Maudlin’s father dead, her mother joyful to see her,
and they are married at once, the seaman giving her away.
great Ioy there was to all & some 252 that heard the danger they had past, her ffather, hee was dead, god wott,
& eke her mother was ioyfull of1 her sight; their wishes shee denyed not,
256 hut weded them wtth harts delight, her gentle Master shee 2 desired
to he her ffather, & att Church to giue her then, itt was ffulffilled as shee required,
260 ynto 3 the ioy of all good men. ffinis.
i at.—O.B.	2 he.—O.B.	3 To.—O.B.38ó
Cume pretty toanton.
A lover praying for pity, would fain know the reason of his idol’s indifference. If she will not look at him, yet will she hear him ? If she will not hear him, will she look at him and his tears ?
The poor fellow is in a weak condition; and his verses are such as might be expected.
Come : pretty wanton, tell me why
thon canst not lone as well as I P
Tell me why you won’t love me.
sett thee downne, sett thee downe, sett thee downe, and thou shalt see
4 why thns vnkind thon art to me.
. My dearest sweet, he not soe Coy, for thon alone art all my Ioy. sett thee downe &c.
8 that itt is hye time to pittye mee.
You alone are my joy.
O gentle lone ! be not yett gone ;	Go not yet ;
leaue me not heere distrest alone ! sett thee downe &c.
12 that I delight in none bnt thee.
Lett me not crye to thee in vaine !
Looke bnt vpon me once againe !	look on me
.	.	once more 1
if a looke, if a looke, if a looke thon wilt not lend,
16 lett bnt thy gentle eares attend.
If thon doe stopp those gentle eares, Looke bnt vpon these crnell teares -which. "doe fforce me still to crye 20	‘ pifctye me, sweet, or else I dye ! ’
VOL. hi.	c c
ffinis.
Pity me, or I die*386
fctt is: a ffoollt:1
This piece, as Mr. Fumivall notes, was printed in the first edition of the Beliques with the title of “ The Aspiring Shepherd.” (Cf. “The Steadfast Shepherd,” “The Shepherd’s Resolution,” &c.)
The lover here holds his head up. He is not for everybody. He must have some rarer beauty for his affection, not of the common sort or such as will smile upon anybody.
Shall I love one who’s loved by the herd ?
No.
Hee : is a ffoole that baselye dallyes where eche peasant mates with him. shall I haunt the thronged valleys,
4 haninge noble hills to climbe ?
no! no ! those clownes be scared w/th ffrownes shall nener my affectyon 2 gayne !
& such as you, ffond ffooles, adew,
8 that3 seeke to captiue me in vaine !
Give me one whom buzzards daren’t gaze at,
I doe scorne to vow a dutye
where eche lustfull Ladd may woe. giue me those whose seemlye 4 bewtye, 12 bussards dare not gazt 5 vnto. shee itt is affords my blisse
who needs	ffor whome I will reffuse no payne :
effort to win.	A J 7
& such as you, fond fooles, adew,
16 that seeke to captiue me in vaine ! ffinis.
1 Printed in the Beliques, iii. 253,	2 esteeme.—Bel.	8 Ye.—Bel.
(1st ed.), with the title of “ The Aspiring	4 sun-like.—Bel.
Shepherd.”—F.	5 gaze.—P.387
mu t mu t
A lover here, parting from the object of his affections, would lull to sleep all doubts of his truth and constancy. He is going away; but let her put a calm unruffled faith in him. The verses are but commonplace.
By : constraint if I depart,— sing lullabee,—
I leane with [thee] behind, my constant hart.
4 placed with, thine, there lett itt rest till itt by death be disposest,
sing lulla lullabee ! loue, liue loyall till I dye.
If forced to go,
I leave my heart with thee.
doe not any wayes distrust—*	Never doubt
8 sing lullabye—	my
that I shall proue inconstant or yniust.1	constancy,
though banishment a while I try, yett shall affectyon neuer dye.
12 [sing lulla &c. (a Une pared away here')']
If by absence I be fforcet—	[page 486] While
.	_ -I _	absent from
sing lullabee—	thee
a litle while to be deuorcet ,
16 ffrom thee whose brest can testifye
where my subiects hart doth Lye,
Lulla &e.
1 One stroke too many in the MS.—F. c c 2388
LULLA LULLA.
I crave only thy
constancy to me.
constancye is all I crane—
20	sing lnllabee ;—■
performed by thee, my wish I hane ;
If I to thee ynconstant prone, lett death my liffe ffrom earth remone. 24	Lnlla &c.
ffinis.389
a totter off tate i1
Here a lover asserts and proclaims his independence. He has loved, and been rejected; and here he makes up his mind to hear his rejection well. He gives the lady up. Let who will, ■win her ; he will not.
A. LOUEIt of late was I,	I was lately
in love
ffor Cupid wold haue itt soe, the hoy that hath neuer an eye,
4 as enery man doth know.
I sighed, and sobbed, and cryed alas
ffor her that lauedit & called me asse, 2 & called me with a girl,
°	and she
assee,	called me ah
ass.
& called me asse .*. for her that &c.2
12
Then knew not I what to doe when I see itt was 3 vaine a lady soe coy to wooe,
& 4 gaue me the asse soe plaine. yett would [I] her asse that I should bee,5 soe shee would helpe & beare w^'th mee, 6& beare &c. soe shee &c.6
If she’d have had me, I’d like to have been her ass.
And I were as faine 7 as shee,
16	& shee were as kind 8 as I,
what payre cold haue mad[e] 9 as wee
If we could have changed places,
I’d have loved her.
1 Printed in the Beliques, iii. 176 (1st ed.).—F.
2—2 Omitted in Bel.—F.
3	saw it was all in.-—Bel.
4	Who.—Bel.
5 Yet would I her asse freelye bee. Bel.
6~R Omitted in Bel.—F.
7	An’ I were as faire.—Bel.
8	Or shee were as tond.-r-Bel. fi made.—P.390
A LOUER OFF LATE.
soe prettye a sumpatbye ?
I was as kind1 as sbee was ffaire,
20 but for all this wee cold not paire ; 2 we cold &c. wee cold not paire^ but ffor all &c.2
But äs she won’t have
why, let her scorn away. I’m myself again.
Paire w^tb ber tliai will, ffor mee ! w^’tb ber I will neuer paire 24 that cuningly can be coy, for being a litle ffaire. tbe Asse Ile leaue to ber disdane,
& now I anij my seife againe^ 3 my seife &c. 28	& now I anij my seife againe.3 ffinis.
1 fond.—Eel,	2-2 Omitted in Eel.—E.	3—3 Omitted in Eel.—E.
[“ Panders come away,printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 104, follows here in the MS* jp. 486-7.]391
(great ov firoubt.
Here again a lover protests his independence. He will not be derided by anybody, however great she may be. He will act like a rational being.
Man by reason should be guided.
But is he ? Our dislikes are proverbially inscrutable—are not the work of conscious reason. We cannot say why we do not like “ Dr. Fell” or Sabidius ; but we do not like them. Perhaps our likes are not always more intelligible. Can we always say why we like Sabidius ? Pallas Athene and Aphrodite were never close friends.
Great or proud, if shee deryde mee, lett her goe ! I will1 not dispaire ! ere to-morrow lie prouide mee 4 one as great,2 lesse proud, more ffaire. he that seeks loue to constraine, shall haue but Labor ffor his paine.
If my love sneers at me, I’ll get a fresh one to-morrow.
And yett strongly will I proue her	But before
J	0,7	r	taking her,
8 whome I meane to haue indeede.	ri1 Prove
her.
if shee constant proue, lie loue her ;
& if ffalse, He not proceede. ought from mee, that may constraine 3 12 my mind & reason to be twaine !
1	Bead lie.—Dyce.
2	good.—P.
3 Away from me! what may constrain. Query.—P. Ought = out, interj.-—F,392
GREAT OR PROUDE.
No one should stand disdain.
Any girl can be matched by some other.
Man by reason sbold be guided,
& not lone where hees disdaind;
If that once he be deryded,
16 others lone may be obiained. hold yon not one mayd soe rare; theres none that lines w^thont compare.
ffinis.
[Two verses of (i A Dainty Ducke” printed in Lo. & Hnm. Songs, p. 108, follow here; and the next leaf of the MScontaining the beginning of “ The Spanish Lady” has been torn out.']393
€f)t è>pamsft ïa&fesî
Prof. Child, in his English and Scottish Ballads, prints his copy of this ballad “ from the Garland of Good Will, as reprinted by the Percy Society, xxx. 125. Other copies, slightly different, in A Collection of Old Ballads, ii. 191, and in Percy’s Reliques, ii. 246.”
“ Percy conjectures,” Prof. Child adds, “ that this ballad took its rise from one of those descents made on the Spanish coast in the* time of Queen Elizabeth. The weight of tradition is decidedly, perhaps entirely, in favour of the hero’s having been one of Essex’s comrades in the Cadiz expedition, but which of his gallant captains achieved the double conquest of the Spanish Lady is by no means so satisfactorily determined. Among the candidates put forth are, Sir Eichard Levison of Trentham, Staffordshire, Sir John Popham of Littlecot, Wilts, Sir Urias Legh of Adlington, Cheshire, and Sir John Bolle of Thorpe Hall, Lincolnshire. The right of the last to this distinction has been recently warmly contended for, and, as is usual in similar cases, strong circumstantial evidence is urged in his favour. The reader will judge for himself of its probable authenticity.
“ ‘ On Sir John Bolle’s departure from Cadiz,’ it is said, 6 the Spanish Lady sent as presents to his wife a profusion of jewels and other valuables, among which was. her portrait^ drawn in green, plate, money, and other treasure.’ Some of these articles 1 2 are maintained to be still in possession of the family, and also a portrait of Sir John, drawn in 1596, at the age of thirty-six, in which-he wears thè gold chain given him by his enamoured prisoner.3 See the Times newspaper of April 30 and May 1, 1846 (the latter article cited in Notes and Queries, ix. 573), and
1	Percy heads this “Fragment of the Spanish Lady.”—P. In the printed Collection of Old Ballads 12“° Vol. 2. pag. 192.—P.
2	The necklace is still extant in the possession of a member of my family, and in the house whence I write (Cold-rey, Hants). Charles Lee, in The Times, May 1, 1846.—P.
3	The portrait is still in the possession
of his descendant, Captain Birch. Illingworth’s Topographical account of Scamp-ton, with anecdotes of the family of Tolies. That portrait is now in the possession of Captain Birch’s successor, Thomas Bos-vile Bosvile, Esq., of Kavensfield Park, Yorkshire, my brother, and may be seen by any one. Charles Lee, ih. supra. Dr. Eimbault has reprinted Mr. Lee’s letter in his Musical Illustrations, p. 23-4.—F.394
THE SPANISH LADIES LOYE.
the Quarterly Review* Sept. 1846* Art. iii. The literary merits of the ballad are also considered in the Edinburgh Review of April* 1846.
“ Shenstone has essayed, in his Moral Tale of Love andlionour* to bring out6 the Spanish Ladye and her Knight in less grovelling accents than the simple guise of ancient record;’ while Wordsworth* in a more reverential spirit, has taken this noble old romance as the model of his Armenian Lady's Love." (Child.)
Dr. Rimbault has printed the tune of this ballad at p. 72 of his Musical Illustrations. He says, “ the tune . . is preserved in the Skene MS.; in The Quaker’s Opera* Performed at Lee and Harper’s Booth in Bartholomew Fair* 1728;’ and in ‘ The Jovial Crew* 1731.’ Our copy is taken from the ballad operas* and altered from three-four time to common time* upon the authority of the Skene MS.” Mr. Chappell also prints the tune at p. 187 of his Popular Music, and notes early quotations of the ballad in Cupid's Whirligig* 1616; Brome’s Northern Lasse, 1632* &c., and a parody of it in Rowley’s A Match at Midnight* 1633.
In order to complete the story of the ballad* we add here the portion of it in Roxburghe Ballads* vol. ii. p. 406* collated with the Collection of Old Ballads* vol. ii. second edition* 1726* p. 191* which corresponds to the part torn out of the Folio MS.—F.
The Spanish Lady's Love.
Will you hoar a Spanish Lady, how she woo’d an English Man;
Garments gay as rich may be, ' bedeekt1 with jewels, had she on;
Of a comely countenance and grace was she;
Both by birth and Parentage of high degree.
As his prisoner there he kept her, in his hands her life did lye ;
Cupid's Bands did tye them faster, by the liking of an Eye:
Deck’d.—O.B.THE SPANISH LADIES LOVE.
395
In his courteous company was all her joy :
To favour him in any thing she was not coy.
But at last there came commandment for to set all ladies free,
With their jewels still adorned : none to do them injury;
O	then, said this Lady gay,1 full woe is me,
0 let me still sustain this kind Captivity.
Gallant- captain, take some pittv on a woman in distress,
Leave me not within this City, for to dye in heaviness:
Thou hast set this present day my body free,
But my heart in prison still remaine 2 with thee.
How should’st thou, fair Lady, love me, whom thou know’st thy Country hate,3
Thy fair words make4 me suspect thee: Serpents lye where flowers grow.
All the harm I think on thee, most courteous Knight,
God grant upon my Head the same may fully light5;
Blessed.be the time and season that thou 6 came on Spanish ground;
If our ffoes you may 7 be termed, gentle ffoes wee baue you ffound;
-with. our cittye 8 you baue woon out barts ecbe one; tben to jqut Country beare away that9 is your owne.”
You’ve won my city and heart too. Take back with you your own.
1	most mild.—O.B.	6 you.—O.B.
2 Bemains.—O.B.	7 If you may our Foes.—Eox. and O.B.
8 Country’s Foe.—O.B.	8 City.—O.B.
4 speech makes.—O.B.	9 what.—O.B.
5	light.—O.B.396
THE SPANISH LADIES LOVE.
“ Nay, Lady, stay in Spain, you’ll find plenty of lovers there.”
“ Rest you still, most gallant Ladye !
rest you still, & weepe noe more ! of ffaire Louers there is 1 plenty ;
8 Spaine doth yeelde a2 wonderous store.”
“ Spanyards ffraught w-ith ielousye wee often 3 flind, but Englishmen through all the world are counted Kind.
No. i love you alone ;
let me serve you night and day.
“ Leaue me not vnto a Spanyard,’
12 you alone inioy 4 my hart;
I am louely, young, and tender ;
lone likwise is 5 my desert, still to seme 6 thee day & night, my mind is prest; 16 the wiffe of euery Englishman is counted blest.”
“As a soldier I can’t take you.”
20
Then I’ll be your page.
“ Itt wold be a shame, ffaire Ladye, ffor to beare a woman hence ;
English souldiers neuer carry any such without offence.”
“ I will quicklye change my seife, if itfc be soe,
& like a page lie ffollow thee whersoere 7 Thou goe.”
“ I’ve no money to keep you with.”
My jewels and money are yours.
“ I haue neither gold nor siluer 24 to maintaine thee in this case,
& to trauell is great charges, as you know, in euery place.”
“ My chaines and Iewells euery one shalbe thy owne, 28	& eke ÖOO1* 8 in gold that Lyes vnknowne.”
“ The sea is full of clanger.”
“ On the seas are many dangers; many stormes doe there arrise,
1	you have.—O.B.
2	you.—O.B.
8 oft do.—O.B.
4	Thou alone enjoy’st.—O.B.
5	is likewise.—O.B.
6	save.—O.B.
7	Where-e’er.—O.B.
8	Ten thousand Pounds.—O.B.THE SPANISH LADIES LOVE.
397
which wilbe to Ladyes dreadffnll,
32	& fforce teares ffrom watterye eyes.”
“ well in wortli I will endure extremity e,1
for I cold find my 2 bart to lose my liffe for tbee.”
“ cnrteons Ladye, leane tliis ffancye.3 36 here comes all that bieakes 4 the striffe :
I in England bane already a sweet woman to my wiffe.
I will not ffalsifye my vow for gold nor gaine,
40 nor yett ffor alltbe ffairest dames that line in Spaine.’
“ 0 bow bappy is that woman that enioyes soe trne a ffreind ! many dayes of ioy god send yon ! 5 44 of my snite lie 6 make an end.
vpon 7 my knees I pardon crane for tbis 8 offence wMch lone & trne affectyon did ifirst commence.
“ comend me to tby Lonely ladye ;
48 beare to ber a 9 Cba-ine of gold & 10 these braceletts ffor a token, greening that I was soe bold.
'all my iewells in Like sort take 11 wrtb tbee ;
52 these 12 are Sitting ffor tby wiffe, & 13 not ffor mee.
“ I will spend my dayes in prayer ;
lone & all ber 14 Lawes deffye; in a nnnery will 115 shrowd me,
56 ffar ffrom other 16 company e ;
bnt ere my prayers bane an end, be snre of tbis, to pray ffor tbee & ffor tby Lone I will nott misse.
1	Well in Troth I shall endure Ex-treamly.—O.B.
2	in.—O.B.
8 Eolly.—O.B.
4	breeds.—O.B.
5	Many happy Days God lend her.— O.B.
6	I.—O.B.
7	On.—O.B.
8	my.—O.B.
9	this.—O.B.
10	With.—O.B.
11	Take thou.—O.B.
12	For they.—O.B.
13	But.—O.B.
I will.—O.B.
I would lose my life for you.
“ Cease your oilers, Lady,
I have a wife in England,
and will be , trne to her.”
Happy she!
I end my suit.
Give your lady my chain
and jewels.
I will seek refuge in
a nunnery,
and pray for you and your love.
his.—O.B. any.—O.B.398
THE SPANISH LADIES LOYE*
All joy to youl
“ Thus ffarwell, most gallant captaine,
60	& ffarwell1 my harts content!
count not Spanish Ladyes wanton though to thee my loue 2 was bent.
Ioy & true prosperity e be still3 w^’th thee ! ”
64 “the Like ffall euer to4 thy share, most ffaire Ladye
1	Farewel too.—O.B.
2	Mind.—O.B.
3	Romain—O.B.
4	fall unto.—O.B.399
g>* gutntíu Garitón:1
This ballad is on an event of considerable historical importance, on one, if not the first, of the causes that led to the war between James IV. of Scotland and Henry VIII. of England, and which ended in the death of James at Flodden Field. Henry’s motive in desiring to have Andrew Barton and his ships captured cannot be put down to the cause to which the prejudiced John Lesley, Bishop of Boss, attributes his interference in the Low Countries (Historie of Scotland, a.d. 1436-1561, Bannatyne Club, 1830, P* 83).
“Here is to be considered and weile noted, the first motione of the gryit trubles quhilk eftiruart did fall betuix the tuo princis of Scotland and Yngland, quhilk happinit principale becaus King Henry the aucht of Yngland, being ane young man left be his fader with greit welth and riches, wes varray desierous to haif wei.ris quhairin he mycht exerce his youthhed, thinking thairby to [dilate] his dominions.”
Henry’s order to take Barton can only have sprung from the injuries which his subjects received from that sailor; and there can belittle doubt that in those early years after 1500, a privateer, as Barton was, took whatever the Lord put in his way, whether neutral’s or foe’s, and pocketed the proceeds without qualms of conscience. He would perform the service his sovereign sent him on, and then take care of himself.
Andrew Barton and his brother Robert were evidently James IV.’s right hand at sea; and Andrew’s character may be judged of by the way in which he took revenge on the Dutch for their piratical doings against the Scotch. Lesley tells us that “ ane greit and costly ship, quhilk had bene apon the Kingis expensis, was compleit” in 1506,2 and after a preliminary sail in her by the King—
1 In the printed Collection of Old ing; yet a few stanzas may be better Ballads 1727, Vol. I. p. 159, N. xx. given from the other.—P.
Very different from the printed ballad:	2	James	was a great shipbuilder: see
but containing some things there want- Mr. G-airdner’s Preface to his Letters and400
SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
“ wes schortlie thaireftir send furth agane to the seas with sundre vailyeant gentill men into her aganis the Holanderis, quha had takinand spollyeit divers Scotis ships, and crewallyhad murdrest and cassin ourburd the merchauntis and passingeris being thairintill; bot for revenge of the samyn, Andro Bartone did tak mony shipps of that countrey, and fillit certane pipis with the heidis of the Holandaris, and send unto the King in Scotland, for dew punishement and revenge of thair cruel tie.—Lesley, p. 74.
After this, Barton kept at sea and greatly pestered, if he did not plunder, the English. What followed is told in different ways by the English and Scotch. For the former we will take Percy’s quotation from Guthrie’s Peerage ; for the latter, Lesley’s account. And first, says Guthrie:
“ The transaction that did the greatest honour to the Earl of Surrey and his family at this time (a.d. 1511) was their behaviour in the case of Barton, a Scotch sea-officer. This gentleman’s father having suffered by sea from the Portuguese, he had obtained letters of marque for his two sons to make reprisals upon the subjects of Portugal. It is extremely probable that the court of Scotland granted these letters with no very honest intention. The council-board of England, at which the Earl of Surrey held the chief place, was daily pestered with complaints from the sailors and merchants that Barton, who was called Sir Andrew Barton, under pretence of searching for Portuguese goods, interrupted the English navigation. Henry’s situation at that time rendered him backward from breaking with Scotland, so that their complaints‘were but coldly received. The Earl of Surrey, however, could not smother his indignation, but gallantly declared at the council-board, that while he had an estate that could furnish out a ship, or a son that was capable of commanding one, the narrow seas should not be infested.
tftf Sir Andrew Barton, who commanded the two Scotch ships, had the reputation of being one of the ablest sea-officers of his time. By his depredations he had amassed great wealth, and his ships were very richly laden. Henry, notwithstanding his situation, could not refuse the generous offer made by the Earl of Surrey. Two ships were immediately fitted out, and put to sea with letters of marque, under his two sons, Sir Thomas and
Papers illustrative of the Reigns of Notices of the Bartons also occur in these Richard III. and Henry VII., vol. ii. volumes.SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
401
Sir Edward Howard. After encountering a great deal of foul weather, Sir Thomas came up with the Lion, which was commanded by Sir Andrew Barton in person; and Sir Edward came up with the Union, Barton’s other ship (called by Hall, The Bark of Scotland). The engagement which ensued was extremely obstinate on both sides; but at last the fortune of the Howards prevailed. Sir Andrew was killed, fighting bravely, and encouraging his men with his whistle to hold out to the last; and the two Scotch ships, with their crews, were carried into the Biver Thames (Aug. 2, 1511).
Now hear Lesley:
“In the moneth of Junij, Andro Bartone, being one the sey in weirfair contrar the Portingallis, aganis quhome he had ane lettre of mark, Sir Edmond Haward, Lord Admirall of Ingland, and Lord Thomas Haward, sone and air to the Erie of Surry, past furth at the King of Inglandis command, with certane of his best schippis ; and the said Andro being in his vayage sayling to wart Scotland, haveand onelie bot one schipe and ane barke, thay sett apoun at the Downis, and at the first entre did make signe unto thame that thair wes friendship standing betuix the tua realmes, and thairfoir thocht thame to be freindis ; quhair-with thay, na thing movit, did cruelly invaid, and he manfullie and currageouslye defendit, quhair thair wes mony slane, and Andro himself sair woundit that he diet shortlye ; and his schip callit the Lyoun, and the bark callit Jennypirroyne, quhilkis with the Scottis men that wes levand wer hed to Londoun, and keipit thair as presonaris in the bischop of York hous, and eftir wes send hame in Scotland. Quhen that the knalege herof come to the King, he send incontynent ane harald to the Kinge of Yng-land with lettres requiring dress for the slauchter of Andro Bartane, with the schippis to be randerit agane, utherwayis it mycht be ane occasioun to break the leage and peace contractit betuix thame.1 To the quhilk it wes ansuerit be the King of Ingland, that the slauchter being ane pirat, as he allegit, suld be na break to the peace; yit nochttheles he suld caus corn-missionaris meit upoun the bordouris, quhair thay suld treat upoun that and all uther enormities betuix the tua realmes.”— Historie of Scotland, p. 82-83.
Accordingly, says Lesley, p. 87, in a.d. 1513
1 See the remonstrance shortly ah- entries as to James’s repeated complaints stracted, and referred to, in Prof. Brewer’s to the King of Denmark about Barton’s Calendar, temp. Henry VIII.; also the slaughter, &e.—P.
VOL. HI.	D D402
SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
u The commissioners of baith the realmes, as wes appointit be Doctor West, meit on the bordouris in the moneth of Junij, quhair the wrangs done unto Scotland mony wayis, speciallie of the slauchter of Andro Bartone and takin of his schippis, ware confessit. . . . bot the commissioneris of Ingland wuld not consent to mak ony redress or restitucione”
till they thought that Henry would be clear of his French war. But James, unwilling to lose such a favourable chance of attacking England,—empty of troops, as he thought, the King and his generals away in France,—sent a herald to Henry in his camp at Turenne, alleging, among other things, the
66 slauchter of Andro Bartane by your awine command, quha thane haid nocht offendit to yow nor your leigeis, unredressed, and breking of the amitie in that behailf by your deid; and withholding of oure schippis and artillarie to your use.” (Lesley, P- 89),
and, notwithstanding Henry’s answer, declared to him war. This did not trouble Henry much, for he knew that the Howard who (with his father) had taken Barton, could deal with Barton’s master too. What Lord Thomas himself thought of the matter may be seen from his message to James : that as high-admiral, and one who had helped to take Barton, he was ready to justify the death of that pirate, for which purpose he would lead the van, and there his enemies would find him, expecting as little mercy as he meant to grant. 6 No quarter ’ <was the word. What followed has already been told by Mr. Hales in prose (vol. i. p. 203-9), and in verse by our Scotish Feilde, i. 212, and Flodden Feilde, i. 334. Lancashire and Cheshire did the deed, and Scotland’s pride lay low. Andrew Barton’s master followed his man.
As to the details mentioned in our ballad, we can only repeat Percy’s words:
“ I take many of the little circumstances of the story to be real, because I find one of the most unlikely to be not very remote from the truth. In Pt. 2, v. 156, it is said that England had before 6 but two ships of war.’ Now the great Harry had been built but seven years before, viz. in 1504 : which * was,SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
403
properly speaking, the first ship in the English navy. Before this period, when the prince wanted a fleet, he had no other expedient but hiring ships from the merchants.’ Hume”
The present ballad was printed by Percy in his Reliques, vol. ii. p. 180, with some deficiencies (as he calls them), supplied from a black-letter copy, in the Pepys collection, of the 66 vulgar ballad, which is evidently modernised and abridged from ” that in the Folio. Prof. Child printed Percy’s version in his English and Scottish Ballads, vol. vii. p. 57; and at p. 201 he also printed the said “ vulgar ballad : ” A True Relation of the Life and Death of Sir Andrew' Barton, a Pirate and Rover on the Seas. The Professor says :
“ This copy of Sir Andrew Barton is to be found in Old Ballads (1723) vol. i. 159, Eitson’s Ancient Songs ii. 204, Moore’s Pictorial Book of Ancient Ballad Poetry, p. 256, and Early Naval Ballads of England, Percy Society, vol. ii. p. 4, with only exceedingly trifling variations. We have followed the last, where the ballad is given from a black-letter copy in the British Museum, ‘ printed by and for W. 0., and sold by the booksellers.’ ”—F.
[Part I.]
As : itt beffell in M[i]dsumer time
when bnrds singe sweetlye on enery tree, our noble King, King Henery the 84!1,1	To Henry
4 oner the riner of Thames past hee.
1 For the above three simple and natural lines, Percy actually substituted in his Reliques the four, following, from the printed copy in the Pepys collection:
When Flora with her fragrant flowers Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye, And Neptune with his daintye showers Came to present the monthe of Maye.
Well did Prof. Child say in his Introduction to this Ballad, “We would fain believe that nothing except a defect in the manuscript could have reconciled the Bishop to adopting the four lines with which the ballad now begins” (Engl, and
Scot. Ballads, vii. 56). The remaining four lines of Percy’s first stanza, given without any of his inverted commas to mark them as altered from his MS., are:
King Henrye rode to take the ayre,
Over the river of Thames past hee; WTien eighty merchants of London came, And downe they knelt upon their knee.
After this, it may be well to carry the collation right through, though it involves waste of time, loss of money, and vexation of spirit.—F.
D D 2404
SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
out riding, came 80 London merchants,
hee was no sooner oner the riuer, downe in a fforrest to take the ayre, bnt 80 merchants of London cittye 8 came kneeling before 'King Henery there:
and complain that they daren’t sail on the
for fear of a pirate who robs them,
“ 0 yee are welcome, rich merchants,
[Good saylors, welcome unto me1 ! ”] they swore 2 by the rood thé were saylers good, [page 49i] 12 but rich merchants they cold not bee ;
“ to ffrance nor Slanders dare 3 we nott passe, nor Burdeaux 4 voyage wee dare not ffare,5 & all ffor a ffalse robber 6 that lyes on the seas,
16	& robb 7 vs of our merchants ware.”
a proud Scot.
Kmg Henery was stout, & he turned him about,8 & swore by the Lord that was mickle of might,
“ I thought he had not beene in the world throughout,9 20 that durst haue wrought10 England such vnright.” but euer they11 sighed, and said—alas !— vnto 12 King Harry this ans were 13 againe 14 “ he is a proud Scott that will15 robb vs all16 24 if wee were 20 shipps17 and hee but one.18 ”
Henry asks
The King looket ouer his left shoulder,
bis Lords, “ wbo’ll fetch that traitor to me ? ”
amongst his Lords & Barrons soe ffree 19 : “ haue I neuer Lord 20 in all my realme 28 will ffeitch yond traitor vnto mee ? ”
1	From the Beliques. The MS. is pared away, and the tops of letters left don’t suit either of Percy’s lines.—F. For sailors good are welcome to me.—P.
2	MS. pared away, but read by Percy. —F.
3	dare we pass.—P. and Bel.
4	& to Bourdeaux.—P.
5	dare we fare.—P. and Bel.
6	a rover.—Bel.
7	s added by P.—F. Who robbs.—Bel.
8	frownd, and turned him rounde.— Bel.
9	Bel. omits throughout.—F.
10	us.—P.
11	The merchants.—Bel.
12	And to.—P.
13	thus answered.—P.
14	And thus they did theire answer frame.—Bel.
15	would.—P.
16	that robbes on the seas.—Bel.
17	Were we 20 ships.—P.
18	And Sir Andrewe Barton is his name. —Bel.
19	And an angrye looke then looked hee.—Bel.
20	a Lord.—P.SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
405
“yes, timi dare I ! ” sayes my ~hord Chareles Howard,1 “i,” Says neere to thè Kmg wheras 2 3 Lee did stand 3 ;	Howard,
“ If timi jout grace will4 gine me leane,
32 my seife wilbe thè only man.”
“ 5 thou shalt hane 600 6 men,” saith onr Kmg,
“ & chnse them out of my realme soe ffree ; besids Marriners and boyes,7 36 to guide 8 the great shipp on the sea.”
“ lie goe speake wtth Str Andrew,” sais Charles, my Lord Haward;
“ ypon the sea, if hee be there,
I will bring him & his shipp to shore,
40 or before my prince I will neuer come neere.9 ”
“ I’ll bring you Sir Andrew Barton
and bis ship.”
the ffirst of all my Lord did call,10 *	Lord
-|	i	n	Howard
a noble gunner hee was one 11 ;	chooses an
this man was 60 12 yeeres and ten,	° gunner’
44	& Peeter 13 Simon was his name.	Peter Simon,
“ Peeter,” sais hee, “ I must sayle to the sea
to seeke out an enemye ; god be my speed ! 14 ”
before all others I haue chosen thee ;
48 of a 100* guners thoust be my head.15 ”
1	lord Howard sayes.—Bel.
2	where.—P.
3	Yea, that dare I with heart and hand.—Bel.
4	it please your Grace to.—P.C., P., and Bel.
b This stanza Percy alters to:
Thou art hut yong; the king replyed :
Yond Scott hath numbred manye a
yeare,
“ Trust me, my liege, lie make him quail,
Or before my prince I will never
appeared
Then bowemen and gunners thou shalt
have,
And chuse them over my realme so free; Besides good mariners, and shipp-boyes,
To guide the great shipp on the sea.
—Bel. ii. 181.
6	a hundred.—P.C., P.
7	good sailors and ship boys.—P.C., P.
8	a, al. ed.—P.
9	appear.—P.
10	The first man, that Lord Howard chose.—Bel.
11	the ablest gunner in all the Eealm. —P.C., P. Was the ablest gunner in all the rea’me.—Bel.
12 three-score.—P.	Though he was threescore.—Bel.
13	Good Peter.—Bel.
14	Peter, sayd he, I must to the sea, To bring home a traytor live or dead. —Bel.
15	to be the Head.—P. to be head.— Bel.406
SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
wlio can shoot close to his mark.
Then he chooses a noble bowman,
William
Horsley,
“ my Lord” sais bee, “if you 1 haue chosen mee of a 100^ gunners to he the head, hange me att2 your maine-mast tree 52 if I misse my marke past 3 pence bread.3 ”
The next of all my Lord he did call,4 a noble bowman hee was one 5;
In yorekeshire was this 6 gentleman borne,
56	& william Horsley was his name.
who can hit within a shilling’s breadth;
“ Horsley,” say es 7 hee, “ I must sayle to the sea 8 to seeke out an enemye; god be my speede 9 ! before all others I haue chosen thee ;
60 of a 100 bowemen thoust be my head.10 ”
“ My Lord,” sais hee, “ if you11 haue chosen mee of a 100* bowemen to be they head,12 hang me att your mainemast tree 13 64 if I misse my marke past 12*!14 bread.”
and to sea he goes.
He soon meets a ship,
w^th pikes, and gunnes, & bowemen bold, this 15 Noble Howard is gone to the sea on the day before Midsummer euen,16 68	& out att17 Thames mouth sayled they.18
They had not sayled dayes 3 19
ypon their Iourney 20 they 21 tooke in hand, but there they 22 mett wdh a Noble shipp,
72	& stoutely made itt both stay 23 & stand.
1	If you, my lord.—Bel.
2	Then hang me up on.—Bel.
3	i.e. breadth.—P. marke one shilling bread’th.—-Bel.
4	My lord then chose a boweman rare. —Bel.
5	A bowman who had gained fame.— P. Whose active hands had gained fame! From the pr. copy.—Bel.
6	he was a.—Bel.
7	A letter blotted out before the a in the MS.—F. sayd.—Bel. •
8	must with speede.—Bel.
9	Go seeke a traytor on the sea.—Bel.
10 And now of .a hundred bowemen
brave
To be the head I have chosen thee.
—Bel. to be the head.—B.
11	If you, quoth hee.—Bel.
12	to be head.—Bel.
13	On your maine-mast He hanged bee. —Bel.
14	A shilling.—P. If I miss twelve-score one penny bread’th.—Bel.
15	The.—Bel.
16	With a valyant heart and a plea sant cheare.— Bel.
17	Out at .—Bel. is he.—Bel.
19	and days he scant had sayled three. —Bel.
20	the Voyage.—P. and Bel.
21	h e.—Bel.
22	he.—Bel.
23	itt stay.—Bel.SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
407
.“tlion must tell me tby name,” sais Charles, my Lo rd Ha ward,
“ or wlio thou art, or ffrom whence thou came,1 2 yea, & 3 where thy dwelling is,
76 to whom & where thy shipp does belong.4 ”
“ My name,” sayes bee, “ is Henery Hunt,5 wfch a pure 6 hart & a penitent mind ;
I and my shipp they doe 7 belong 80 vnto the Hew castle 8 that stands vpon tine.”
and asks its owner who he is.
“ Henry Hunt,
of Newcastle,
“How thou must tell me,9 Harry Hunt,	[page492]
as thou hast sayled by day & 10 by night, hast thou not heard of a stout robber 11 ?
84	men calls 12 him Sir Andrew Bartton, K night”	and Andrew
Barton
but13 euer he sighed, & sayd, “ alas !
14 hull well, my 15 Lord, I know that wight! he robd me of my merchants ware,
88	& I was his prisoner but yesternight.
“ as I was sayling yppon the sea,
& 16 Burdeaux voyage as I did 17 ffare, he Clasped me to his Arehborde 18 92	& robd me of all my merchants ware ;	la^nfgw*
1	MS. ny.—F.
2	come.—P.
8	and shew© me.—Bel.
4	"Wherto thy Ship belongs & whom. —P. And whither bound, and whence thou came.—Bel.
5	is Henrye Hunt, quoth hee.—Bel.
6	poor, heavy.—P. heavye . . careful!. —Bel.
7	do both.—P. and Bel.
8	To the Newcastle.—Bel.
9	Hast thou not heard, now.—Bel.
10	or.—P. and Bel.
11	Of a Scottish rover on the seas.— Bel.
12	call.—Bel.
13	Than.— Bel.
14	With a grieved mind, and well away! But over-well I knowe that wight,
I was his prisoner vesterday.—Bel.
15	MS. ny.—F. '
16	A.—Bel.
17	voyage for to.—Bel.
18	ship, or side of a ship: see 1. 278, “ ouer the hatch-bord cast into the sea.” A.-S. earc-bord, Ark’s-board, the ark. Bosworth.
“ J?9et earce-bord heold heofona frea,” the Lord of Heaven held the ark. Ccedmo?i, p.* 84, 1. 26. ed. Thorpe. See also Genesis 8f Exodus, 1. 576:
Sexe hundred ger noe was hold Quan he dede him in <$e arcke-wold. and Mr. Morris’s note, p. 123.—F.408
SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
& I am a man both poore 1 & bare,2
& enery man will bane bis owne 3 of me, & I am bound towards London to ifare,4 96 to complaine to my Prince Henerye.5 ”
Lord
Howard says,
“ Show me Barton, and I’ll give you Is. for every penny 100 you’ve lost. ”
Hunt tries to dissuade him from fighting
Barton,	104
“ that shall not need,” sais my Lord Haward 6 ;
if tbon canst lett me this robber 7 see, fifor enery peny be bath taken 8 thee ffroe,
tbon sbalt be rewarded a shilling,” qwfcb bee.9 “ JSTow god ffore-fend,” saies Henery Hunt,10 “ my hord, yon sbold worke 11 soe fParr amisse ! god keepe yon ont of that Traitors bands ! for yon wott ffnll litle 12 what a man bee is.
108
who has a well-manned pinnace
and 30 guns. ;q2
“ bee is brasse within, & steele without,
& beanes bee beares in 13 bis Topcastle 14 stronge ; 15 bis sbipp bath ordinance cleane ronnd abont;
besids, my Lore?, bee is verry well mand ; be bath a pinnace is 16 deerlye digbt,
Samt Andrews crosse, that17 is bis gnide ; bis pinnace beares 18 9 score men & more,19 besids 15 20 cannons on enery side.21
1	There is a tag at the end like an s in the MS.—F.
2	And mickle debts, Giod wot, I owe. —Eel.
3	his own.—P., P.C., and Bel.
4	And I am nowe to London bonnde. ■—Bel.
5	Of our gracious King to beg a boon. —P., P.C., and Bel.
6	You shall not need, lord Howard sayes.—Bel.
7	Lett me but once that robber.—Bel.
8	penny tane.—Bel.
9	It shall be doubled shillings three. —Bel.
10	the merchant sayes.—Bel.
11	That you shold seek.—Bel.
12 little you wot.—P.	Pull litle ye
wott.—Bel.
13	beams.—P. With beames on.—Bel. The MS. has beanes or beaues again in 1. 116, 208, 220.—P.
14	Top-castles. Ledgings surrounding the mast-head. Halliwell.—P.
15	And thirtye pieces of ordinance He carries on each side alonge.—
Bel.
With 18 pieces of ordinance He carries on each side along. Pr. Copy.—P.
16	And he hath a pinnace.—Bel.
17	itt.—Bel.
18	beareth.—P. and Bel.
19	Bel. omits Sf moe.—F.
20	And fifteen.—P. and Bel.
21	on each side.—P. and Bel.SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
409
116
120
“if you were 20 1 sbippes, & lie but cme, either in charke-bord 2 or in hall,3 he wold ouercome you 4 euerye one,
& if 5 his beanes they doe downe ffall.”
“ this is cold comfort,” sais my Lord Ha ward,6 “ to Wellcome a stranger thus to 7 the sea; lie 8 bring him & his shipp to shore,
or else into 9 Scottland hee shall carrye mee.”
Howard
says
he’ll beat Barton, or Barton shall him.
124
128
“ then you must gett a noble gunner, my Lord, that can sett well wHh his eye & sinke his pinnace into 10 the sea,
& soone then ouercome will hee bee.11 & when that you haue done this,12
if you chance Sir Andrew for to bord,13 lett no man to his Topcastle goe ;
& I will giue you a glasse, my Lord,14
Hunt advises him first to sink
Barton’s pinnace, and then board him, avoiding the topcastle.
132
“ & then you need to fferae 15 no Scott, whether you sayle by day or by night;
& to-morrow by 7 of the clocke,	By 7 next
^	(	t	day he shall
you shall meete with. Sir Andrew Bartton, Kniaht. meet
J	y Barton,
1	Were you 20.—P. and Bel.
2	? same as archebord, 1. 91.—F.
3	I sweare by kirke, and bower, and hall.—Bel.
4	orecome them.—Bel. s If once.—Bel.
6	Bel. omits Howard.—F. .
7	stranger on.—Bel.
8	Yett lie.—Bel.
9	Or to.—Bel.
10	in.—Bel.
11	he’ll be.—P. Or else he ne’er ore-come will be.—Bel.
12	thing [added by P.]
13	And if you chance his shipp to horde, This counsel I must give withall.
—Bel.
14	To strive to let his beames downe fall.—Bel. Percy’s next two stanzas, altered seemingly from the printed copy, take in the next three stanzas of the Folio:
And seven pieces of ordinance,
I pray your honour lend to mee,
On each side of my shipp along,
And I will lead you on the sea.
A glasse I’ll sett, that' may be seene, Whether you sayle by day or night; And to-morrowe, I sweare, by nine of the clocke,
You shall see Sir Andrewe Barton knight.
The Second Part.
The merchant sett my lorde a glasse Soe well apparent in his sight,
And on the morrowe, by nine of the clocke, He shewd him Sir Andrewe Barton knight.
His hatchborde it was * gilt ’ with gold, Soe deerly dight it dazzled the ee, Howe by my faith, lord Howarde says, This is a gallant sight to see.
—Bel. ii. 185-6.	4* feare.—F.410
SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
I was Ms prisoner but yester night,
& he hath taken mee sworne 1 2;” quoth hee,
“ I trust my L[ord] god will me fforgiue 136	& if that oath then 2 broken bee.
buu^miist	“you must lend me sixe peeees, my Lord” q^oth hee,
six guns.	“ into my sMpp to sayle the sea,
& to-morrow by 9 of the clocke 140 jour honour againe then will'I see.3 ”
And the hache-bord where SA Andrew Lay, is haehed wZth gold deerlye dight :
Lord	“now by my ffaith,” sais Charles, my LoreZ Ha ward,
Howard 544	“ then yonder Scott is a worthye wight!
[Part II.]
orders his flags to be taken in, and a white wand put out.
They sail by Barton, taking no notice of him,
r"“ Take in jour ancyents & your standards,4 Od J yea that no man shall5 them see,
| & put me fforth a white willow wand,
148 L as Merchants vse to 6 sayle the sea.”
But they stirred neither top nor mast, but SZr Andrew they passed by.7 “ whatt English are yonder,” said SZr Andrew,8 9
152	“ that can so litle curtesye ?
which
enrages
Barton,
9 “ I haue beene Admirall ouer the sea more then these yeeres three ; there is neuer an English dog, nor Portingall, 156 can passe this way without leaue of mee.
1	made me swear.—P.
2	now.—P.
3	Again your hon* I will see.—P.
4	ancyents, standards eke.—Eel.
5	[insert] now.—P. So close that no man may.—Eel.
6	that.—Eel.
7	Stoutly they past Sir Andrew by. —.Eel.
8	he sayd.—Eel.
9	Now by the roode, three yeares and
more
I have been admirall oyer the sea ;
And never an English nor Portingall Without my leave can passe this way.
Then called he forth his stout pinnace;
“ Eetch back yond pedlars nowe to mee;
I sweare by the masse, yon English churles
Shall all hang at my main e-mast tree.”—Eel. ii. 18‘6.SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
411
But now yonder pedlers, they are past,
which is no litle greffe to me :	[page 493]
ffeich them backe,” saves Sir Andrew Bartton,	andhede-
9 J	#	dares he’ll
160 “they shall all hang att my maine-mast tree.”	hang them,
with, that they pinnace itt shott of,	and sends
out his
that my Lore? Haward might itt well ken,1	pinnace to
J	°	take them.
itt strokes downe my Lords fforemast,2 164	& killed 14 of my Lor^ his3 men.
“ come hither, Simon ! ” sayes my Lord Haward,4 “ looke that thy words be true thon sayd 5; lie hang thee att my maine-mast tree 6 168 if thon misse thy marke past 12? bread.7 ”
Simon was old, but his hart itt 8 was bold,
hee tooke downe a peece, & layd itt ffull lowe 9 ; he put in chaine yeards 9,10 172 besids 11 other great shott lesse and more.12 wrfch that hee lett his gnn shott goe 13;
soe well hee settled itt wrth his eye,14 the ffirst sight that Sir Andrew sawe,
176 hee see15 his pinnace snnke 16 in the sea.
But old Simon aims low,
and with his chain shot
sinks the pinnace.
when 17 hee saw his pinace snnke,
Lord! in his hart hee was not well18 :
“ entt19 my ropes ! itt is time to be gon !	?oafetchSailS
180 lie goe ffeiteh 20 yond 21 pedlers backe my seife 22! ” Howard
1	well it ken.—P. Full well Lord Howard might it ken.—Bel.
2	For it strake downe his fore-mast tree.—Bel.
8	of his.—Bel.
4	Bel. omits Howard.—F.
5	word doe stand in stead.—Bel.
6	For at my maine-mast thou shalt hang.—Bel.
7	twelve score one penny hread.— P.C., P. one shilling hread’th.— Bel.
8	Bel. omits itt.—F.
9	His ordinance he laid right lowe.
—Bel. ‘ Aim low ’ is the regular rule.
—F.
10	full 9 yards long.—P. and Bel.
11	with.—Bel.
12	moe.—P. and Bel.
13	And he lett goe his great gunnes shott. —Bel.
14	ee.—Bel.
15	saw.—P. He sawe.—Bel.
16	MS. sumke.—F. sunke i\—Bel.
17	and when.—Bel.
18	Lord, how his heart with rage did swell.—Bel.
19	No we cutt.—Bel.
20	lie fetch.—Bel.
21	MS. yomd.—F.
22	mysel.—P. and Bel.412
SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
when my Lord Hawarcl 1 saw Sir Andrew loose, lord ! in his hart that hee 2 was ffaine :
“ strike on your drummes, spread out your ancyents !3 184 sonnd ont your trumpetts 4 ! sound out amaine ! ”
188
Old Simon’s son
puts in another shot, and
kills 60 of 292 Barton’s
“ Sight on, my men! ” sais Sir Andrew Bartton 5;
“weate, howsoeuer this geere will sway, itt is my Lo rd Adm[i]rall of England is come to seeke mee on the sea.”
6 Simon had a sonne, with shott of a gunn,— well Sir Andrew might itt Ken,— he shott itt in att a priuye place,
& killed 60 more of Sir Andrews men.6 * *
Hunt attacks Barton too,
and kills 80 more men.
7 Harry Hunt came in att the other syde,
& att Sir Andrew hee shott then, he droue downe his fformost tree,
196	& killed 80 8 more of Sir Andirwes men.
“ I haue done a good turne,” sayes Harry Hunt, “ Sir Andrew is not our Krn^s ffreind ; he hoped to haue yndone me yesternight,
200 but I hope I haue quitt him well in the end.”
Barton	“ Euer alas ! ” sayd Sir Andrew Barton,9
laments,	47
“ what shold a man either 10 thinke or say P yonder ffalse theeffe is my strongest Enemye, 204 who was my prisoner but yesterday.
1	Bel. omits Howard.—F.
2 how he.—P. Within his heart. —Bel
3	your Ancients spread.—P.
Howe spread your ancyents, strike up drummes.—Bel'.
4	Sound all your trumpetts.—Bel.
5	Sir Andrew says.—P. and Bel.
6-6 Simon had a sonne, who shott right well,
That did Sir Andrewe mickle scare;
In att his decke he gave a shott,
Killed threescore of his men of warre.
Bel. ii. 188, (altered from printed copy. -F.)
7	Of the next stanza and a half Percy makes one, taking two lines from the Polio, and the rest (altered) from the printed copy:
Then Henrye Hunt with rigour hott Game bravely on the other side,
Soone he drove downe his fore-mast tree, And killed fourscore men beside. Howe, out alas ! Sir Andrew cryed, What may a man now thinke, or say ? Yonder, merchant theefe, that pierceth mee,
He was my prisoner yesterday.
8	fifty.—P.C., P. fourscore men be side.—Bel.
9	Si AndY sayd.—P.
10 now.—P.SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
413
come hither to me, thou Gourden 1 good,
& be thou 2 readye att my call,
& I will giue thee 3001!3
208 if thou wilt lett my beanes 4 downe ffall.”
and offers Gordon
300?. to climb the mast and let the beams fall.
5 with. that hee swarned 6 the maine-mast tree, soe did he itt7 wtth might and maine: Horseley 8 WT/fch a bearing9 arrow 212 stroke the Gourden10 through the braine, And he ffell into 11 the haches againe,
& sore of this wound that he12 did bleed, then word went throug Sir Andrews men,
216 that they Gourden 13 hee was dead.
He climbs up,
but Horseley shoots him through the brain.
“ come hither to me, Iames Hambliton,14— thou art my sisters sonne, I haue no more,15— I will giue [thee] 6001? 16 220 if thou will lett my beanes downe ffall.17 ” with, that hee swarned the maine-mast tree, soe did hee itt wtth. might and maine 18 : Horseley wt'th an-other 19 broad Arrow 224 strake the yeaman 20 through the braine,
Barton then offers his nephew 600Z. to climb up.
He climbs,
but Horseley shoots him dead.
1	Gordon.—P. and Bel.
2	That aye vast.—Bel.
3	I will give thee three hundred markes.—Bel.
4	beams.—P.
5	Por the next four lines, Percy, without notice, takes (and alters) the printed copy:
Lord Howard hee then calld in haste,
“ Horseley see thou be true in stead; Por thou shalt at the maine-mast hang, If thou misse twelvescore one penny bread’th.—Bel. ii. 188.
6	swarmed, i.e. climbed, a word still used in Shropshire [ ? all over England. —F.] in this sense,—P. Then Gordon swarvd.—Bel. MS. may be swarued.—F.
7	He swarved it.—Bel.
8	But Horseley.—Bel.
9	See Adam Bell cfe., p. 98,1. 601. The bearing arrow was a broad one, 1.223 below.
I suspect the word means only ‘well-feathered for far shooting, like a ‘ good carrying cartridge.’—P.
10	Grordon.—P. and Bel.
11	downe to.—Bel.
12	sore his deadlye wounde.—Bel,
13	Grordon.—P. How that the Gordon. —Bel.
J4 Hamilton.—P. Hambilton.—Bel.
15	mo.—P. my only sisters sonne.— Bel.
16	thee six hundred jpozcrds.—P.
17	wilt to my Top-castle go. Printed Copy.—P.
If thou wilt let my beames downe fall, Six hundred nobles thou hast wonne. —Bel.
18	He swarved it with nimble art.— Bel,
19	But Horseley with a.—Bel.
20	yeoman.—P. Pierced the Hambilton thorough the heart.—Bel.414
SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
1 that1 2 hee ffell downe to tlie hach.es againe 3 : sore of his wound that4 hee did bleed.
itt is yerry true, as the welchman sayd, 228 couetousness getts no game.5
Barton calls for his armour; he’ll
climb to the
topcastle
himself.
232
but when hee saw his sisters sonne 6 slaine,
Lord ! in his heart hee was not well.
“ goe ffeitch me downe 7 my armour of proue,8 ffor I will to the topcastle my-selfe.9
236
He puts on his armour.
240
“ goe 10 ffeitch me downe my armour of prooffe, [page 494] for itt is guilded11 with gold soe cleere. god be with my brother, Iohn of Bartton !
amongst12 the Portingalls hee did itt weare.13 ” but when hee had his 14 armour of prooffe,
15 & on his body hee had itt on, euery man that looked att him
sayd, “ gunn nor arrow hee neede feare none ! ”
“ come hither, Horsley! ” sayes my hord Haward,16 “ & looke 17 jour shaft that itt goe right; shoot a good shoote in the time 18 of need,
244	& ffor thy shooting 19 thoust be made a ILnight.”
Horseiey	“ lie doe my best,” sayes20 Horslay then,
“ jour honor shall see beffore I goe 21;
1	For the next six lines the Beliques have:
And downe he fell upon the deck,
That with his blood did streame amain e:
Then every Scott cryed, W ell-away!
Alas a comelye youth is slaine !
All woe-begone was Sir Andrew then, With griefe and rage his heart did swell.—F.
2	And.—P.
8 MS. agaime.—F.	4 then.—P.
6 Covetousness brings nothing home.
Kay: ed. Bohn, p. 81.—F.
6	nephew.—P.
7 forth.—Bel.	8 proof.—P. and Bel.
9	top-mast my sol.—P. topcastle my-
sel.—Bel.
10	MS. pared away.—F.
11	gilt.—P. That gilded is.—Bel.
12	Against.—Bel.
13	ware—P. hee it ware.—Bel.
11 on this.—Bel.
15	Percy has a bit of his own for the next three lines:
He was a gallant sight to see.
Ah! nere didst thou meet with living wight,
My deere brother, could cope with thee.—Bel. ii. 190.
16	my lord.—Bel.
17	looke to.—Bel.
18	in time.—Bel.
19	it.—P. it thou shalt.—Bel.
20	quoth.—Bel.
21	see, with might and maine.—Bel.SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
415
if I sliold be banged att jour mainemast,1 248 I bane in my sbipp but arrowes tow.2 3 ”
3 but att Sir Andrew bee sbott tben ;
bee made sure 4 to bitt bis marke ; ynder tbe spole 5 of bis right arme 252 bee smote Sn* Andrew quite throw tbe hart, yett ffrom tbe tree bee wold not start,
bnt bee clinged to itt vntb might & maine. ynder tbe coller tben of bis Iacke,6 256 be stroke Sir Andrew tborrow tbe braine*
“ fftgbt on my men,” sayes Sir Andrew Bartton,7 “ I am 8 bnrt, bnt I am 9 not slaine ; lie lay mee 10 downe & bleed a-while,
260	& tben lie rise & bight againe.11
bight on my men,” sayes Szr Andrew Bartton,12 “ these English Hoggs they bite soe lowe ;13 14 bight on bor Scottland & Saint Andrew 264 till15 yon beare my whistle bio we ! ”
bnt when thé cold not beare bis whistle blow, sayes Harry Hunt, “ He lay my bead yon may bord yonder noble sbipp, my Lord,
268 for I know S^r Andrew bee is dead.” 16
has only two arrows left :
with one he shoots Barton through the heart,
and with the other,
through the brain.
Barton tells his men
to fight on till
they hear his whistle.
No whistle sounds.
1	But if I were hanged at your maine-mast tree.—Eel.
2	I have now left but arrowes twaine. —Eel.
3	For this stanza Percy has the following, altered from the printed copy:
Sir Andrew he did swarve the tree,
With right good will he swarved then: Upon his breast did Horseley hitt,
But the arrow bounded back agen. Then Horselye spyed a privye place With a perfect eye in a secrette part; Under the spole of his right arme He smote Sir Andrew to the heart.
4	right [sure].—P.
5	Fr. es'paide, a shoulder.—Cotgrave.
6	leather tunic over the armour. See
Fairholt, on Jacket.—F.
7	Sir Andw. says.—P. Sir Andrew sayes.—Eel.
8	a little I’m hurt.—Pr. Copy, P., and Eel.
0 but yett.—Eel.	10 but lye.—Eel.
11	Only half the n in the MS.—F.
12	Szr And\? says.—P. Sir Andrew sayes.—Eel.
13	and never flinche before the foe.—Eel.
14	But stand fast by St. Andrew’s Cross.
—P. Copy, P., and Eel. with And for But.—F.	is Until.—P.
16 They never heard his whistle blow, Which made their hearts waxe sore adread:
Then Horseley sayd, Aboard, my lord, For well I wott Sir Andrew’s dead. Eel. (altered from printed copy).—F.416
SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
Howard and
Hunt
board
Barton’s
ship.
wt'tli that they horded this 1 noble shipp, soe did they itt 2 wtth might & maine ; thé ffound 18 score Scotts aline,3
272 besids the rest were maimed & 4 slaine.
Howard cuts My Lord 5 Haward tooke a sword in his hand,6
off Barton’s
head,	& smote7 of 8 Sir Andrews head.
276
has his body thrown overboard,
the Scotts stood by, did weepe & monrne, bnt noner a word dnrst speake or say.9 he caused his body to be taken downe,10 & oner the hatch-bord cast11 into the sea, & abont his middle 800 crownes :
280	“ wheresoener thon lands, itt12 will bnry thee.”
and sails to England,
13 w^th his head they sayled into England againe with right good will, & fforce & meanye,14
1	they hoarded then [his].—P. and Eel.
2	They hoarded it.—Bel.
3	Eighteen score Scotts alive they found.—Eel.
4	The rest were either maimd or.—Eel.
5 Lord.—Eel.	6 in hand.—Eel.
7	[insert] ther.—P.
8	And off he smote.—Eel.
9	they spake or said.—P.
I must ha’ left England many a daye,
If thou wert alive as thou art dead.— Eel. (from printed copy, altered.)—E.
10	to be cast.—Eel.
11	Eel. omits $ and east.—E.
12	'Wherever thou land this.—Eel.
13	Eor the next four stanzas, Percy has these four from his own head, the printed copy, and the folio :
Thus from the warres lord Howard came, And backe he sayled on the maine, With mickle joy and triumphing Into Thames mouth he came againe. Lord Howard then a letter wrote,
And sealed it with seale and ring:
“ Such a noble prize have I brought to your grace,
As never did subject to a king.
Sir Andrewes shipp I bring with mee;
A braver shipp was never none:
Howe hath your grace two shipps of warre,
Before in England was but one.”
King Henryes grace with royall cheere, Welcomed the noble Howard home, And wdiere, said he, is this rover stout: That I myselfe may give the doome ?
“The rover, he is safe, my leige,
Eull many a fadom in the sea; [Percy] If he were alive, as he is dead,
I must ha’ left England many a day: And your grace may thank four men i’ the ship
Eor the victory wee have wonne,
These are William Horseley, Henry Hunt,
And Peter Simon, and his sonne.”
To Henry Hunt, the king then sayd,
In lieu of what was from thee tane,
A noble a day thou shalt have,
With Sir Andrewes jewels and his ehayne.”
And Horseley thou shalt be a knight, And lands and livings shalt have store;
Howard shall be earl Surrye hight,
As Howards erst have beene before.
—Eel. ii. 192-3.
14	main.—P.SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
417
& the day beffore Newyeeres euen 284	& into Thames month againe they came.1
My Lorcl Haward wrote to Kmg Heneryes grace, with all the newes hee cold him bring :
“ such a newyeeres gifft I hane 2 brought to jour gr[ace],
288 as neuer did subiect to any3 King.
“ffor Merchandyes & Manhood, the like is nott to be ffound ; the sight of these wold doe you good,
292 ffor you haue not the Like in jour English ground.” but when hee heard tell that they were come, full royally hee welcomed them home :
Sir Andrews shipp was the Km^s Newyeeres guifft; 296 a brauer shipp you neuer saw none.
Now hath our King Sir Andrews shipp besett with pearles and precyous stones ;
Now hath England 2 shipps of warr,
300	2 shipps of warr, before but one.
“ who holpe to this P ” sayes King Henerye,
“ that I may reward him ffor his paine.4 ”
“ Harry Hunt & Peeter Simon,
304 William Horseleay, & I the same.”
“ Harry Hunt shall haue his whistle & chaine, [page 495] & all his Iewells, whatsoeuer they bee,
& other rich giffts that I will not name,
308 for his good service he hath done 5mee.
Horslay, right thoust be a Knight;
Lands & liuings thou shalt haue store.
Howard shalbe Erie of Nottingham,
312	& soe was neuer Haward before.
1 they came again.—P.	4 MS. pairae.—P.
2 a noble prize have I.—Eel.	5 [insert] to.—P.
3	a.—Bel.
VOL. III.	E E
which he reaches on December 30.
Lord Howard writes to Henry VIII. that he has a grand new-year’s gift for him.
Henry is delighted to find that it’s Barton’s ship,
all over pearls.
The King has now two ships of war.
He gives
Hunt
Barton’s
jewels &c.
makes Horseley a knight, Howard Earl of Nottingham,418
SIR ANDREW BARTTON.
and gives Simon and his son
500/.
The Queen comes
to see Barton’s
“ Now Peeter Simon, thou art old,
I will maintaine thee & thy sonne, thou shalt haue 500? all in gold SI6 ffor the good service that thou hast done.1 ” then King Henerye shiffted his roome ;
in came the Queene & ladyes bright; other arrands they had none 320 hut to see S^'r Andrew Bartton, 'Knight.
face.
The King wishes he were	324
alive again,
and sends his men
back to 328 Scotland.
hut when they see his deadly fface, his eyes were 2 hollow in his head,
“ I wold giue a 10011,”'sais King Henerye,
“ the 3 man were aliue as hee is dead ! yett ffor the manfull part that hee hath playd 4 both heere & 5 heyond the sea 6 his men shall haue halfe a crowne7 a day to bring them to my brother King Iamye.8 ” ffinis.
1	And the men shall have five hundred
markes
Por the good service they have done.—
Bel.; which has for the next four lines:
Then in came the queene with ladyes fair
To see Sir Andrewe Barton knight:
They weend that hee were brought on shore,
And thought to have seen a gallant sight.
2	soe.—Bel.
3	This.—Bel.
4	part he playd.—Bel.
5	[insert] eke.—P.
6	Which fought soe well with heart and hand.—Bel.
7	twelvepence.—Bel.
8	Till they come to my brother king’s high land.—Bel. Oh, this restless itch of alteration!—P.419
€i)t t ^tllpe &fltuuu
“Pity the sorrows of a lover” is the gist of this piece. The swain protests that he is scorched with the flame of love, and mnst be altogether consumed by it, if his lady will not put forth a hand and pluck him like a brand from the burning. His only claim to such a service is that he loves her. He hopes she may be induced to reflect his love.
Fire warms to life; it also burns to death; as the simple savage found, who was consumed by the- flames in which he had taken pleasure. And so it is with love.
Like : to the sillye Siluan burnt by the ffire he liked,
I scor[c]hed am w^th cupidds ffyery ffiame, 4 wherin I became 1 delighted.
grant then, o grant, my desire to allay, lest that I ruined bee ;
& godd[e]sse like, saue mee!
8	[By] Loue 2 my liffe I maintaine;
death by hatred I gaine : you 3 the Murthresse, if slaine I bee.
Then hand in hand lett pittye 12 with bewtye March intwined 4 ;
harmonious paire, if soe linked they were, how delightffull in thee combined! ffairest of all that the sun doth survay,
16 lett gracyousnesse take place ;
I’m scorched with Cupid’s flame!
Then, love,
save me !
Let Pity join with thy Beauty.
1	MS. becane.—F.
2	By your Love.—P.
E E 2
3	you are.—P.
4	entwined.—P.420
THE SILLYE SILUAN.
Be not too coy:
pity me !
Love your lover again.
Grant me
love’s
rights,
now the time is so fit.
3
O be not to coye 1 !
Thou art an Angell, if a ffreind; if an enemye, a ffeencL 20 then to pittye condiscend, I pray !
ffaine wold I that my desires on her might hane refflectyon.
Lone loned againe ; itt is my only 2 aime 24 to be answered w^'th true affectyon.
Lone is attended w^th many a plesnre to thee vnknowene as yett. mee 3 to those 4 Ioyes admitte !
28	crowne me W'ith those lones rights,
w^th those precyons delights, whiles the time that vs invites if itfcs ffitte.5 ffinis.
too coye.—P.	4 mee then to those.—P.
it is my only.—P.	6 that invites us is so fit.—P.
MS. meete.—P.421
patient <£rf&eU:1
This is a later version of the story which seems to have been first told in English by Chaucer, who derived it from Boccaccio, who derived it perhaps from Petrarch, who derived it from some floating tradition. There were current in the Middle Ages numberless tales and songs abusive of women. This sorry literature sprung probably from the monks, who, whatever their practice, may have been, were ready enough to clamour that women’s society was by all means to be avoided and detested— that women were everything bad and abominable. One would think that Eve had tempted the serpent, not the serpent Eve. Had there arisen no authors of broader and truer experiences than these cloistered libellers, the very acrimony of their slanders would have sufficed to excite a literature reactionary and protesting. Certainly such a literature grew and flourished. Women found their advocates. In the fields of poetry as well as of tournament and war they found their knights, who did battle bravely for them. Men rose up and called them blessed, and put ignorant scandal-mongers to shame. The Nut Brown Maid was written especially to gainsay those who accused them of perpetual inconstancy; Patient Grissell to rebuke those who pronounced them ever shrews. Griselda is essentially a reactionary story; else, the patience of the heroine is too extreme to be tolerated, she is tame to excess, she is characterless. If we remember how incessantly the shrewishness of women, their obstinacy, their furiousness were asserted and proclaimed, then we shall understand why Grriselda’s patience is represented as so extreme and
1 In the printed Collection of Old ib.—F. yid. Boccace Chaucer (pencil Ballads, 1727, Vol 3. p. 252.—P. “To note). the tune of The Bride's Good-morrow fyc.”422
PATIENT GKISSELL.
invincible, why the roughest, cruellest, shamefullest wrongs cannot ruffle it. The story does not contemplate the virtue it celebrates in reference to other virtues. It does not concern itself with these; in its devotion to its one object, it may even outrage some of these. Its aim and purpose is to picture patience in a woman. This picture it paints surely with surpassing success. Is there any more moving picture of meekness in any secular literature ? Grriselda bears the grievous burdens laid upon her shoulders with a quiet unmurmuring spirit. No angry cries, no burning reproaches escape from the lips of this most gentle lady. And yet, if ever any tongue might grow shrewish and curst, assuredly hers might grow so. But in meekness she possesses her souB Bereft of her children, cast off by her husband, the tenderest fibres of her soul thus rudely torn and broken, she cannot but weep somewhat. “ The tears stood in her eyes.” But
She nothing answered, no words of discontent Did from her lips arise.
And when ready to “ part away,”
“ G-od send long life unto my lord,” quoth she.
“ Let no offence he found in this,
To give my lord a parting kiss.”
The following version of the story is found elsewhere—in an old chap-book, dated 1619, from which it has been reprinted by the Percy Society in Deloney’s Qarland of Good Will, and in the Collection of Old Ballads, 1727.
“ Two plays upon the subject,” observes Professor Child in the Introduction to his copy of Patient Grissel, “ are known to have been written, one of which (by Dekker, Chettle, and Haughton) has been printed by the Shakespeare Society, while the other, an older production of the close of Henry VIII.’s reign, is lost. About the middle of the sixteenth century (1565) a Song of Patient Grissell is entered in the Stationers’ Registers, and a prose history the same year.” License is given to “ Owyn Rogers” “for pryntinge of a ballett intituled the sounge of pacyente Gressell unto hyr make.”PATIENT GKISSELL.
423
The poem given by Percy in the Reliques, called The Patient Countess, an extract from Warner’s Albion''s England, represents rather tact and management than patience in the wife of an unfaithful (not a tempting and assaying) husband. “ The subject of this tale,” says the Bishop, “ is taken from that entertaining colloquy of Erasmus intitled Uxor	¿7a/jbos sive
Conjugium; which has been agreeably modernized by the late Mr. Spence in his little Miscellaneous Publication intitled ( Moralities &c. by Sir Harry Beaumont, 1753, 8vo. pag. 42.’ ” 66 Jam si molestum non erat,” says Eulalia, one of the interlocutors in that dialogue, “ referam tibi quiddam de marito commo-ditate uxoris correcto ; quod nuper accidit in hac ipsa civitate,” 66 Nihil est quod agam,” rejoins Xantippe, whose name indicates her views as to how husbands should be dealt with, a et perquam grata mihi est tua confabulatio.” “ Est vir quidam,” proceeds her more discreet friend, and relates the tale versified by Warner. Xantippe does not appreciate the forbearance shown by the wronged lady of the story. “ 0 matronam nimium bonam ! Ego citius pro lecto substravissem illi fasciculum urti-carum ac tribulorum.” The Patient Countess then is other than our Grriselda.
Grriselda became a proverb of patience. Scarcely has the patience of Job been more widely heard of than hers. Butler (Hudibras, part i. cant, ii.) speaks of
Words far bitterer than wormwood,
That would in Job or Grizel stir mood.
A : noble Marquesse, as hee did ryde on1 hnntinge hard by a fforrest syde, a proper maid,2 as shee did sitt a spinninge,
4 his gentle eye espyde.
A Marquis out hunting
spies a lovely maid,
1 a.—0.33.
2 fair and comely Maiden.—0.33,424
PATIENT GRISSELL.
singing.
His heart is 8 on fire,
and he	-12
accosts the maiden.
Most ffaire & lonely, & of comely 1 grace, was sliee, although in simple attire ;
shee sung hull sweet2 w^th pleasant voice melodyous-
iyee»
which sett the Lords hart on hire, the more he looket, the more hee might; bewtye bred 3 his harts delight;
& to this dainty 4 damsell then [hee went.] 5 “ God speed,” quoth hee, “ thou famous Slower, [p. 496] ffaire Mistress of this homely bower
where louee & vertue liues 6 w^th sweet content! ”
She
welcomes
him	16
modestly.
The Marquis
20
asks her name; he means to
marry her.
“ Grissell is my name.
I’m quite " unfit for you.”
He urges his suit;
28
w^th comely Iesture & modest ffine 7 behauiour shee bade 8 him welcome ; then shee entertaind him in ffaithffull ffrendly man[ner]
& all his gentlemen.
the Noble Marquesse in his hart felt such a fflame, which sett his sences att striffe ; q^oth hee, “ ffaire mayd,9 show me soone what is thine 10 [name ;]
I meane to make thee my wiffe.”
“ Grissell is my name,” quoth shee,
“ ffarr vnffitt ffor your degree :
a silly mayden, & of parents poore.”
“ nay, Grissell! thou art rich,” he sayd ;
“ a virtiuos, ffaire, & comelye mayde !
grant me thy loue, & I will aske no more.”
she consents, Att Lenght shee Consented, & being both contented, they marry,	they marryed were wt’th speed.
she is clad	her country russett was changed to silke & veluett,
velvet, 32 as to her state agreed ;
1	a comely.—O.B.
2	most sweetly.—O.B.
3	was.—O.B.
4	O.B. omits dainty.—F.
5	Strait the Noble went.—O.B.
6	Dwells.—O.B.
7	O.B. omits ffine.—F.
8	bids.—O.B.
9	Maiden.—F.
10	thy name.—P. & O.B.PATIENT GRISSELL.
425
36
40
44
48
52
56
& when thaï sh.ee was trimly tyred in the same, her bewtye shined most bright, ffarr stainninge enery other brane & comelye 1 dam[e] thaï did appeare in her sight.2 many ennyed her therfore, because shee was of parents poore,
& twixt her Lord & shee great striffe did raise, some said this, & some said that,
& some did call her beggars bratt,
& to her Lord they wold her offt dispraise :
“ 0 noble Marquesse” (q^oth they) “why doe you3 wrong ys,
thus baselye ffor to wedd, thaï 4 might haue gotten an honourable 5 Ladye into yo^r princely bed ?
who will not now ycmr noble issue still6 deryde, which heerafter shall 7 be borne, thaï are of blood soe base on 8 the Mothers syde, ' the which will bring them in scorne. put her therfore quite away ; take 9 to you a Ladye gay,
wherby jouy Linage may renowned bee : ” thus euery day thé seemed to 10 prate that malliced11 G-rissells good estate,.
who tooke all this most mild & patyentlye.12
and looks lovelier than anyone else.
People envy her,
call her beggar’s brat,
and
reproach the Marquis
with having married a base-born girl;
his children will be scorned.
He should put her awaj,
and marry a Lady.
G-rissell takes it all patiently.
when 13 the Marquesse see 14 that15 they were bent thus The Marquis against his ffaithffull16 wiffe, who 17 most dearlye, tenderlye, & entirlye,
loves her as his life,
60 he loued 18 as his liffe ;		but thinks
		to prove her,
1 Lair and Princely.—O.B.	10 they did.—O.B. 11	envy’d.—O.B.
2 O.B. omits this line.—F.	12 Who all this while	Took it most
3 didst thou.—O.B.	patiently.—O.B.	
4 Who.—O.B.	13 When that.—O.B.	
5 horn5.1* in the MS.—P.	14 Bid see.—O.B.	
6 now.—O.B.	15 O.B. omits that.—P.	
7 shall hereafter.—O.B.	16 lawful.—O.B.	
8 base Born by.—O.B.	17 Whom he.—O.B.	
9 And take.—O.B.	18 Beloved.—O.B.	426
PATIENT GRISSELL.
and seems cruel, that men may pity her.
She gives birth to twins, a boy and girl.
Minding 1 in secrett for to prone 2 her patyent liart, therby her ffoes 3 to disgrace, thinking to play 4 a hard discurteous part 64 that men might pittye her case ;— great with child this 5 Ladye was ;
& att lenght 6 itt came to passe,
2 goodlye children att one birth shee had,
68 a sonne & daughter god had sent, which did their ffather 7 well content,
& which did make their mothers 8 hart full glad.
A grand
christening
feast
is held for six weeks, 72
and then the Marquis sends a messenger to fetch the twins to be
murdered.
80
G-rissell weeps, but says her lord must be obeyed. $4
Great Ioy & 9 ffeasting was att the 10 childrens christ-
enin[g,]
& princely triumph made.
6 weekes together all nobles that came thither were entertained, and stayd.
& when that all these plasant sporttings 11 quite were 12 done,
the Marquesse a Messenger sent ffor his young daughter & his pretty smiling so[ne,] declaring his ffull entent, how that they 13 babes must murdered bee,— for soe the Marquess did decree :
“ come,lett mehaue thy14 children,” then hee say[d]. with that, ffaire Grissell wept hull sore, shee wrong her hands, & sayd no more :
“ My 15 gracyous Lord must haue his will obayd.”
[page 497]
She kisses her babes,
Shee tooke the babyes 16 ffrom 17 the nursing Ladyes betweene her tender armes ; shee often wishes with many sorrowffull kisses that shee might helpe 18 their harmes :
1 Meaning.—O.B.	2 try.—O.B.
3	his Foes for.^—O.B.
4	shew her.—O.E.
5	the.—O.B.
6	at the last.—O.E.
7	Mother.—O.B.
8	Father’s.—O.B.
10	these.—O.B.
11	the pleasant Sporting.—O.B.
12 was.—O.B.	13 How the.—O.B;
14	The.—O.B.
15	But my.—O.B.
18 the Babes.—O.B.
17 Even from.—O.B.
Royal.—O.B.
18 ease.—O.B.PATIENT GRISSELL.
427
“ ffarwell, ffarwell 1000 times, my children deere !
neere1 sliall I see you. againe ! tis long of me, jour sad and wofull mother heere, 92 for whose sake you 2 must be slaine. had I beene borne of royall race, you might haue liued in happy case,
but you must dye for my vnworthynesse !
96 come, messenger of death,” sayd 3 shee,
“ take my despised 4 babes ffrom mee,5
& to their ffather my complaints expresse ! ”
Hee tooke the children ; vnto 6 his Noble Master 100 he brought7 them both8 wrth speed,
who 9 secrett sent them vnto a noble Ladye to bee brought vp indeed, then to ffaire Grissell w¿th a heauy hart hee goes 104 where shee sate myldlye alone.10
a pleasant gesture & a louelye looke shee showes, as if greeffe 11 shee had neuer 12 knone. q^oth hee, “ my children now are slaine:
108 what thinkes ffaire Grissell of the same P
sweet Grissell, now declare thy mind to mee.”
“ sith you, my Lord, are pleased wrfch itt, poore Grissell thinkes the actyon13 fitt.
112 both I and mine att jour comand wilbee.”
bids them farewell,
tells them they’re to die
because she’s of low blood,
and bids the messenger
repeat her plaints to her husband.
He takes them to the Marquis, who sends them to a lady to be brought up, and then he goes
to G-rissell (who
receives him pleasantly),
says the children are slain; what does she think of it?
“ If it
pleases you, I think it right.”
“ My Nobles 14murmure, ffaire Girssell, at thy honour, Thenheteiis
0 T T ^	’	her that, to
& 1 noe loy (Jan haue	please his
till thou be banisht both ffrom my court & presence, to be sent
,,	.	away
116 as they vniustly craue.
1	Never.—0.33.
2	both.—O.B.
3	quoth.—O.B.
4	dearest.—O.B.
5	to thee.—O.B. fa‘ And to.—O.B. 7 bore.—O.B.
8	thence.—O.B.'
9	Who in.— O.B.
10	all alone.—O.B.
41 no Grief.—O.B.
12	O.B. omits neuer.—3?.
13	this.—O.B.
14	One stroke too few in the MS.—F.428
PATIENT GRISSELL.
in her plain grey frock,
and be his wife no more.
thou must be stript out of thy 1 garments all,
& as thou earnest vnto 2 mee, in homely gray, instead of bisse 3 & purest pall, 120 now all thy clothing must bee.
My Lady thou shalt4 be no more, nor I thy Lorc£, which. greeues me sore.
the poorest liffe must now content thy mind ; 124 a groate to thee I may 5 not giue to maintaine thee 6 while I liue 7 :
against my Grissell such great ffoes I ffind.”
The tears come to
her eyes, 128 but she says nothing,
takes off her velvet gown,
132
pubs on her russet one,
136
kisses her husband,
140
When gentle Grissell had hard this 8 wofull tydings, the teares stood in her eyes, she nothing9 answered, no words of disconte[nt]-ment10
did ffrom her lipps arrise ;
her yeluett gowne most pitteouslye shee slipped of,11 her kirtle of silke with the same, her russett gowne was browght againe With many a scoffe:
to here 12 them all,13 her selfe shee did fframe. when shee was drest in this array, and read ye was 14 to p&rt15 away,
“ god send long liue ynto my Lord ! ” qwoth shee,
“ Let no Offence be ffound in this, to giue my Lore? a parting kisse.”
with wattered 16 eyes, 4 4 ffarwell, my deare ! ” qiioih hee.17
1	Of thy brave.—O.B.
2	to.—O.B.
1 3 Byssus, Lat.—Pencil note. Silk.— O.B.
4 must.—O.B.
6	dare.—‘■O.B.
6	Thee to maintain.—O.B.
7	I do live.—O.B.
8	Bid hear these.—O.B.
9	Nothing she.—O.B.
10	Discontent.—O.B.
11	patiently she stripped off.—O.B.
12	hear.—O.B.
13	O.B. omits.—P.
14	for.—O.B.
15	pass.—O.B.
16	watry.—O.B.
17	said she.—O.B.PATIENT GKISSELL.
429
144
ffrom stately e 1 pallace, ynto lier ffathers cottage poore Grissell now 2 is gone.
and. goes to her father’s cottage.
ffull 15 winters sliee lined there contented; no wrong sliee thought vpon ;
There she stays 15 years,
& att that3 time through all the Land the Speeches
went,
the Marquesse shold marryed bee ynto a Ladye great4 of hye discent;
148	& to the same all purtyes did 5 agree,
the Marquesse sent ffor Grissell ffaire the bryds bedchamber to prepare,
that nothing therin shold 6 bee ffound awrye.
152 the bryde was w^the her brother come, which was great Ioy to all & some:
& 7 Grissell tooke all this most patyentlye.
And in the Morning when that 8 they shold be weded,
and is then sent for to prepare the
Marquis’s new wife’s room,
[page 498]
156
her patyence now 9 was tryde:
Gr[i]ssell was chargd, her-selfe in princely 10 manno^r and dress her
nn	iiT	for her
nor to attyre the bryde.	wedding.
most willingly shee gaue consent ynto 11 the sam[e :] Grissell 160 the bryde in her 12 brauery was drest,	bride;
& presentlye the noble Marquesse thither came	and then the
W'&’th all his herds att his request:	Maiqms
“ O Grissell, I wold 13 aske of thee	asks her if
164 if thou wold to this match 14 agreethe nfaTch. ° methinkes thy lookes are waxen 15 wonderous coy.” wrfch that they all began to smile,
& Grissell shee replyes 16 the while,	She wishes
168	“ god send Lord Marquesse many yeeres of Ioy ! ”	happy*years.
1	Princely.—O.B.
2	she__O.B.
3	this.—O.B.
4	Noble Lady.—O.B.
5	O.B. omits did.—F.
6	Might.—O.B.
7	But.—O.B.
8	as.—O.B.
9	there.—O.B.
10	friendly.'—O.B.
11	to do.—O.B.
12	O.B. omits her.—F. is will.—O.B.
14	If to this Match thou wilt.—O.B.
15	waxed.—O.B.
16	reply’d.—O.B.430
PATIENT GRISSELL.
The Marquis The Marquesse was moued to see his best beloued
steps to her
and says, “ You are my only bride: these are your children.
thus patyent in distresse ; he stept vnto her, & by the hand he tooke her ;
172 these words he did expresse :
“ thou art the 1 bryde, & all the brydes I meane to haue !
these 2 thine owne children bee ! ”—-
You who envied her, blush for shame!
Fame shall
evermore
praise
Patient
Grissell.”
the youthfull [Lady] 2 on her knees did blessing craue;
176 her brother as willing 3 as shee;—
“ & you that enuye her estate whom I haue made my louing 4 mate,
JSTow blush ffbr shame, & honour vertuous liffe !
180 the chronicles of Lasting fíame shall euermore extoll the name
of patyent Grissell, my most patyent5 wiffe ! ”
ff[inis.]
1 my,—O.B.	4 chosen.—O.B.
2 youthful Lady.—O.B.	5 constant.—O.B.
3	well.—O.B.431
troupe & Protone t
This piece was manifestly- written by a professional band. Dolorous and tragic incidents wbicb now form tbe subjects of newspaper paragraphs were in old pre-public-press day reported, with such graceful varieties of narrative as might seem expedient, by vagrant versifiers. The ballad-writer of James I.’s time performed the functions of the penny-a-liner of our day. Some such grievous duel as that described in the following piece may probably enough have been fought not far from the Tweed early in the seventeenth century, and this be the ryming news-monger’s account of it. There is a certain reality about the narration, which cannot be attributed to the art of the narrator. It is evidently an event that actually transpired which he celebrates. His artistic merit is sufficiently indicated by the morals he appends to his story. He belongs to the Ovros lttttos school.
In : Barwicke Low,1 as late beffell,
At Berwick
a great mishap happened therin wold peaine 2 a stonye hart to tell:
a sad mishap befell
4	. the great discourse that did begin
Betwixt 2 yonthes of gentle blood.
between two
well-born
youths,
as they were walking all alone, they wrought their wills as they thought good,
8 w^'ch made their ffreinds to waile & mone.
The one hight Scroope, as I heard tell,
Scroope and Browne.
the other browne, as I hard say: betwixt these 2 itt soe beffell,
12 that hand to hand the made affray.
1 ? Berwick Low, a hill near Berwick.—H.
2 Qu. MS.—F.432
SCROOPE AND BROWNE.
Scroope taunted Browne with not daring to fight him.
Saith Scroope to Browne, “ what dost thou meane to come all naked1 thus to mee ? itt meaneth sure, by thy comming,
16 thou wilt not flight, but rather fllee.”
Browne retorted ;
Quoth Browne, “ my weapons are att hand, as to thy paine shall soone bee seene; flor while that I may goe or stand,
20 one floote to ffly I doe not meane.’’
they drew their swords, and fought
They drew fiorth their swords anon, they Sought together manflullye, they 2 bright blades in the sun shone,— 24 O Lord, itt was great Ioy to see !—
They Laid on strokes that were soe strong, manfully,	they Sought together manflullye.
tin Scroope	att Lenght Scroope [pressed] 3 ynto Browne,
28	[&] with, his sword fliill Egarlye
hit Browne a cruel cut in the leg,
Hee hitt Browne on the legg, god wott, hee cutt him vaines 2 or 3 ; a man might haue seene where that stroke bo[te;] • 32	O Lord, itt pearced him cruelly !
and called on him to yield. Browne would not; they fought again;
and Browne
killed
Scroope.
They tooke their breath, & still they stoode :
Q'Moth Scroope, “thou Browne, yeelde thee to mee ! ’* [on] w/wch, Browne waxing neere hand wood,
36 together flearfullye they cold fllee.
They Lady came runinge apace :
Browne cast vp his head & did her see ; with that hee cut Scroope in the flace ;
40 [the sword to the brain went through his ee.4]
1	naked = unarmed. So oiudus in
“ In maximo metu nudum et cæcum
corpus ad hostes wrtere.”—Sail. Jug. 107
and elsewhere, and yvf.iv'bs in Horn. II. xvi., 815, oW vireueiyev UdrpoKXov yvp.vàv
7T€p eovT iv SyiSrrjrL, and elsewhere.—H.
2	their.—P.
3	pressed.-—I)yce.
4	A line of the MS. is pared away.—F. Alas ! it was the more pittye.—P.SCROOPE AND BROWNE,
433
“ Oat & alas ! ” quoth this gay Ladye,	[page 499]
“ Browne ! why woaldest thoa doe this deede P I loued him better then I loaed thee ! ”
44 shee kist his wounds as they did hleede.
“ Ladye,” quoth Browne, “ my owne thou art!
our trothes together plighted they bee ; ffor shame lett this deede neuer be knowne,
48	nor neuer show extremitye.”
“ As ffor our trothes plighting,” shee saith,
“ is not the thing that greeueth mee ; but ffor his sake that heere is dead,
52 taken soone that thou shalt bee.”
“ 0 No, No, No, Ladye ! ” he sayes,
“ if that thou wilt thy troth deniye, yett ffor his sake that heere Lyes 1 dead,
56	taken will I neuer bee.”
Heei tooke the sword then by the blade, the heauye hilt on ground did Lye; quite through his body a wound hee made,
60	& there hee dye[d] beffore her eye.
The ffattall end of Scroopa & Browne, of bothe their ffreinds Lamented was ;
& eke the crye through Barwicke towne 64 was “ wellaway, & out alas ! ”
But of this Ladye, marke the end, that causer was of deadlye fuyde : a swoning trance god did her send 68 that shee ffell dead vpon the ground.
1 .MS. Lyed.—F.
F F
Browne's
love
reproaches
him.
She loved Scroope best.
Browne says she has plighted her troth to him.
“ I care not for that :
you shall be taken up for Scroope’s sake.”
“If you deny your troth,
I’ll not be taken,” says Browne,
then runs himself through the body,
and dies.
The Lady
falls down dead too.'
VOL. IIT.434
SCROOPE AND BROWNE.
Ladies,
learn to keep secrets !
Young men, seek for a true love :
it’s a rare bird.
You Ladyes all that lieere my song,
& maidens all of Eclie degree, see yee neuer speake word w^tk yo^r tounge, 72 but keepe itt till tbe day you dye.
And young men all that beere my song, to seeke true loue doe you not spare; tbougb Pieamus be eft1 to find,
76 yett Tbisbye is a bird most rare. ffinis.
1 eath.—P. eft, quick, ready: Shakspere, in Halliwell.—P.
[“ Now ffye on Dreames,” printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 109 follows here in the MS. p. 499.] •435
lunge dumber t1	[page 500]
Geoffeey of Monmouth tells us1 2 that after the Trojan war* HCneas, flying with his son Ascanius from the destruction of Troy, sailed to Italy. There Ascanius begat a son named Sylvius, and he begat Brutus, who at the age of fifteen accidentally killed his father out hunting. Driven from Italy for so heinous a deed, Brutus landed in Greece, headed the oppressed Trojans there, took their adversary Pandrasus prisoner, married his daughter, and then sailed to the shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea, where he found other descendants of Trojans, under the command of Corineus. Having together conquered the king of Aquitaine, Brutus and Corineus sailed to the island called Albion, then inhabited by none but a few giants, and divided it. Corineus chose Cornwall (probably called after him) because in it there were more giants than elsewhere, and it was a diversion to him to encounter them. Among others he slew the biggest and most detestable monster Goemagot. Brutus took the rest of the island, christened.the whole of it Britain, after his own name, and built on the Thames the city of New Troy, afterwards called Kaer Lud and then London. After Brutus’s death his three sons shared his kingdom—Locrin, the eldest, taking the middle of the island called Loegria, of which we hear so often in the Arthur romances ; Kamber, the second son, taking Kambria, or Wales; and Albanact, the youngest, taking Albania, or Scotland. Locrin
1 A late version of the story told "by lection of Old Ballads 1726, Vol. 2. p. 5. Geoffrey of Monmouth and his Welsh	N.I.—P.
translators, by Wace (i. 65-71), Laya- 2 Book i, Chapters iii-xviii, Book ii, mon (i. 91-106), Bobert of Gloucester Chapters i-v, A. Thompson’s translation (i. 23-7), Robert of Brunne (Inner Temple revised by Giles (Bohn, 1848) p. 91-MS. fol. 13) &c.—F. In the printed Col-	109.—F.
f f 2436
HINGE HUMBER.
was betrothed to Guendolsena, the daughter of Corineus. Then Humber, king of the Huns, invaded Albania, and slew Albanact. Locrin and Kamber routed Humber near the river which now bears his name, and in which he was drowned. In one of Humber’s ships Locrin found the lovely Estrildis, of beauty “ hardly to be matched. No ivory or new-fallen snow, no lily could exceed the whiteness of her skin.” For love. of her, Locrin would have broken his troth to Corineus’s daughter,, but the giant-slayer shook his battle-axe at him, and he thereupon married Guendolsena. But he kept Estrildis in “ apartments underground,” and begat on her a most beautiful daughter who was named Sabren. In process of time Corineus died, Locrin divorced Guendolsena, and advanced Estrildis to be queen. But “ twenty thousand Cornish men would know the reason why,” as a modern ballad sings of another event. They met Locrin near the river Sture; he was killed by the shot of an arrow;, and Guendolsena became queen. She had Estrildis and her daughter Sabren thrown into the river now called Severn after that daughter; Guendolaena hoping thus to perpetuate Locrin’s infamy by his fair girl’s name.
Of Geoffrey’s story told above, our ballad retells, with variations, the part after Humber’s invasion. Sir F. Madden shows in his note in Layamon iii. 313 (p. 440, note1 here) how by Geoffrey’s misreading the name of Estrildis’ daughter as Sabren, instead of Avren, he has transferred the legend of the Avon’s christening to the Severn’s, so that we have the names of two rivers accounted for by the process so familiar to comparative mythologists, of the invention of stories about men and women to account for existing names of streams and hills, countries and towns. But surely this linking of natural objects with the stories and fates of human beings is a gain to the imagination, the life, of man. A light is on Greece and Judsea, on Norse-land and England too, when the sun is down, and no moon or star can be seen. A glory of legend and history rests for ever on the spots where the deeds they tell ofKINGE HUMBER.
437
were done, the sufferings they sing were suffered. And though we now can people the Severn’s course with the wondrous vegetation, the coral-reef islands and fishful lagoons of the carboniferous system, with the gigantic saurians of the trias, and the earliest creations of mammal being, yet how did the river acquire to many of us a new life when we read—
when we learnt that Tennyson’s friend lay on Severn’s bank, and -that there from his ashes might be made
The violet of his native land. (■ib. xviii.)
Though Greoffrey’s stories be not true, let us not forget that we owe him a debt of gratitude for them.
The Danube to the Severn gave
The darken’d heart that beat no more, {In Memoriam, xix.)
After
Humber had slain
Albanack,
'King Albanack in ffeild had slaine, those bloody broyles ffor to asswage,
4	Kmg Locrin then applyed his paine,
& wffh an host of Brittaines stont
Locrin
att Lenght hee ffonnd King Humber out.
Att vantage great he mett him then, 8	& W'ffh his hoast besett him soe
attacked
that hee destroyed his warlike men,
and routed his army,
& Humbers power did ouerthrowe ;
& Humber, which ffor ffeare did fflye, 12 leapt into a riuer desperattlye.
and Humber
And be[i]ng drowned in the deepe,
drowned
himself.
& left a Ladye there a-liue,
&1 sadlye did lament and weepe
16 for ffeare they shold her liffe depriue; but by her fface that was soe ffaire the King was caught in cupidds snare.
Locrin fell in love with a Hunnish lady,
Estrilde, and secretly
1 who.—F.HINGE HUMBER.
438
(to the sorrow of his Queen Gwendoline, by whom he had a son)
begat a daughter on Estrilde.
Hee tooke the Ladye to his lone,
20	& secrettlye 1 did keepe her still;
soe that they Qneene did quicklye prone the 'King did beare her small good 2 will; althongh in wedlocke late begnn,
24 hee had by her a gallant sonne.
Qneene Gnendoline was greened in m[i]nde to see the Kmg was altered soe; att lenght the canse shee chanct to ffind,
28 which bronght her to mnch bitter woe. ffor Estrilde was his ioy, god wott, by whom a danghter hee begott.3
Humber then put away
Guendoline, (who took refuge in Cornwall),
The dnke of cornewall being dead,
32 the ffather of that gallant qneene 4 ; the Kin g by Inst being oner-ledd, his lawffnll wiffe hee cast of cleane, who with. her deare and tender sonne 36 for sncconr did to cornewall tnrne.
and crowned Estrilde his wife.
Then Locrine crowned Estrild bright, & made of her his lawfull wiffe; with. her which was his harts delight, 40 he thonght to lead a pleasant liffe. thus Guendoline, as once 5 fforlorne, was of her hnsband held in scorne.
1	Wace puts her into a deep cellar, and keeps her there seven years :
Par nn, son bon familier,
Fist à Pondre faire un célier,
Pesos terre parfondement ;
Là fn Estril bien longement :
Set ans la tint issi Locrin Celéement el sostérin.—Brut, i. 68-9.
2	There is a tag at the end in the MS. like an s.—F.
3	Tant i ala et conversa
Qu’ Estril nne fille enfanta.
Abren ot nom, mult par fn clere Et pins bêle qn’ Estril sa mère Qui mult fa bêle et avenant.
Wace, Bomans de Brut, i. 69, 1. 1435-9.
(ed. le Poux de Lincy, Paris, 1836).
We have been already assured, at p. 66, that Estril’s match could not then be found :
mult par fu bêle ;
Ne péust, ou nol liu trover Plus bêle de li, ne sa per.
4	He was Corinens, the Trojan chief, who slew the king of the giants, Gog-gamog, that was, men say, about four and twenty feet long. B. Oldster, i. 22. It should be remembered of England, that in those days “ in this island were giants ; no other people dwelt there.” (Wace, i. 51).—F.
5	one, Al. Ed.—P.KINGE HÜMBEE.
439
But wlien the cormsh men did know 44 the great abuse 1 shee did endure, W'dh. her a number great did goe, which. shee by prayers did procure, in battell2 then they marcht alonge 48 for to redresse this greeuous wronge,
The Cornish men resolve to avenge Gruendoline.
52
And neere a riuer called store 3
the 'King w^th all his host shee mett, where both the armyes fought full sore,
[but then the qu]eene the feild did gett; yett ere they did the conquest ga[i]ne, [page 50i] the King was w^th an arrow slaine.
They attack Locrin,
defeat him,
and kill him.
Then Guendoline did take in hand—	Guendoiine
56 vntill her sonne was come to age— the gouer[n]ment of all the Land;
& that great ffury to aswage, shee did command he[rl4 * & souldiers wild	orders
t	'	Estnlde and
60 to drowne both Estrill & her child.	Jer/irl to,
be drowned.
Incontinent then did they bringe ffaire Estrild to the riuers syde,
& Sabrine, daughter to a Kinge,
64 whom Guendoiine cold not abyde; who, being bound together hast, into the riuer they were cast.
Estrilde and her daughter Sabrine
are cast into the river,
1	A stroke Between the s and e in the MS.—P. abuse.—P.
2	column, military formation.—P.
8 La3amon’s account (ed. Madden, i.
104-5) is:
MS. Cott. Calig. A. ix.
& heo to gadere corner i vppen ane watere. j?at watere hatte Stoure i hat feiht was swiSe stagne.
inne Porsete i Locrin dea$ holede.
MS. Cott. Otho, C. viii. and hii to gadere comen \ vppen one watere.
J?at hatte Steure i hat fiht was swihe sturne. ine Dorsetei Locrin deah holede.
4 her al. id.—P.440
KING® HUMBER.
which has since been
68
called
Severn,
because
Sabrine
was drowned
there.
72
And ener since that rnning streame wlierin these Ladyes drowned were, is called Seuerne thronghe the realme, because that Sabrine dyed there.1 thus 2 they that did to lewdnesse bend, were brought vnto a wofull end. ffinis.
1 La3amon (ed. Madden i. 105) says:
J>a hehte heo [Gvendoleine] ane heste . .
bat me sculde kat ilke water i
J?er Abren was adrunken.
elepien hit Auren i
for kaune mæidéne Ahren.
& for Locrines lufe i J?e wes hire kine lonerd. ko het 3eo one heste. hat me solde hat ilk water i har Ahren was a-dronke. cleopie hit Auren i for fan maide Abrew.
On this passage Sir F. Madden remarks, iii. 313 :
“ Layamon has here strictly adhered to the text of Wace, as we find it in the Cotton MS.
Puis fut l’ewe u ele fut jetée,
Pel nom Abren Avren apelee ;
Avren, ke de Abren son nom prent,
A Criste-cherche en mer descent.—-f. 2Sb.
“ It is very evident that by Auren or Avren the river Avon is intended, which, after being joined by the Stour, falls into the sea at Christchurch. So far all is intelligible enough; but in the printed text of Wace, for Criste-cherche is absurdly
read Circecestre, which the editor at once declares to be Cirencester in Gloucestershire, and interprets Avren to be the Severn. The latter error, however, is of ancient date, and is found in the text of Geoffrey, who writes, ‘ Jubet enim Es-trildem et filiam ejus Sabren prsecipitari in fluvium qui nunc Sabria dicitur. Unde contigit quod usque in hune diem appellatum est flumen Britannica lingua Sabren [Havren], quod per corruptionem nominis alia lingua Sabrina vocatur,’ lib. ii. c. 5. He is followed in this by the Welsh translations, by the anonymous author of the metrical Anglo-Norman Brut, in MS. Reg. 13 A. xxi. f. 45? c. 1, by Robert of Gloucester, vol. i. p. 27, and by Robert of Brunne :—
Scho did take faire Estrilde,
& Sabren, th* was hir childe,
& did tham in a water cast,
The name for tham is rotefast.
Seuerne it hate for the child Sabren, For th* childe the name we ken.
/. 13* c. 1.”
Ebren is the name of one of the daughters of Ebroc. (Wace i. 76, 1. 1596).—F.
2 MS. this.—F.441
$n ti)e Sapfs' of (JWUe.1
Copies of this ballad occur in Thomas Deloney’s Garland of Good Will (reprinted by the Percy Society), in the Collection of Old Ballads, in the Roxburghe Collection, in the Bagford, in the Religues (from the Editor’s ancient folio MS. collated with another in black-letter in the Pepys Collection intitled “An excellent Ballad of a prince of England’s courtship to the King of France’s daughter &c. To the tune of Crimson Velvet/’) in Bitson’s Ancient Songs, in Child's English and Scotch Ballads from the Percy Society reprint of the Garland of Good Will.
The story of this ballad (says Percy in his introduction to his “ repaired ” copy) seems to be taken from an incident in the domestic history of Charles the Bald King of France. His daughter Judith was betrothed to Ethelwulf King of England: but before the marriage was consummated, Ethelwulf died, and she returned to France; whence she was carried off by Baldwyn, Forester of Flanders; who after many crosses and difficulties, at length obtained the King’s consent to their marriage, and was made Earl of Flanders. This happened about A.D. 863. See Bapin, Henault, and the French historians.
This may be the historical basis of the ballad. A strange edifice is built upon it.
Judith was formally married to Ethelwulf, with her fathr’s full consent.
In his return [Ethelwulf’s return from his second visit to Borne] (says Lingard), he again visited the French monarch, and after a
1 In the printed Collection of Old Prince was disasterouly slain, and the Ballads 1727. Vol. i. p. 182. No. xxiii. aforesaid Princess was afterwards mar-—P. There the long lines of our copy ried to a Forrester.” To the tune of are printed in two, and the Ballad is Crimson Velvet. The Clarendon corn-entitled “An Excellent Ballad of a mas in our text are for the heavy Prince of England’s Courtship to the commas of the MS., meant for metrical King of France’s Daughter, and how the points or bars.—F.442
IN THE DAYES OE OLDE.
courtship of three months was married to his daughter Judith, who probably had not reached her twelfth year. The ceremony was performed by Hincmar, Archbishop of Reims. At the conclusion the princess was crowned and seated on a throne by the side of her husband, a distinction which she afterwards claimed, to the great displeasure of the West Saxons.
And on his return homewards (say some texts of the Saxon Chronicle) he took to [wife] the daughter of Charles King of the French, whose name was Judith, and he came home safe. And then in about two years he died, and his body lies at Winchester. (Stevenson’s Ohurch Historians of Hngland.)
After this period [his second visit to Rome] (says Asser), he returned to his own country, bringing with him as a bride Juditha, daughter of Charles the King of the Franks. . . . He also commanded Judith, the daughter of King Charles, whom he had received from her father, to sit by his side on the royal throne; and this was done without any hostility or objection from his nobles even to the end of his life, in defiance of the perverse custom of that nation. . . . King AEthulwulf, then, lived two years after his return from Rome, during which, among many other useful pursuits of the present life, in the prospect of his going the way of all flesh, that his sons might not engage in unseemly disputes after their father’s death, he commanded a will, or rather a letter of instructions, to be written, &c. &e.
After the demise of Ethelwulf, the young widow was married by Ethelbert the son, who immediately succeeded him on the throne.
This incestuous connection (says Lingard) scandalised the people of Wessex ; their disapprobation was publicly and loudly expressed ; and the King, overawed by the remonstrances of the Bishop of Winchester, consented to a separation. ...
Judith, unwilling to remain in a country which had witnessed her disgrace, sold her lands, the dower she had received from Ethelwulf, and returned to the court of her father. Charles, who dared not trust the discretion of his daughter, ordered her to be confined within the walls of Senlis, but to be treated at the same time with the respect due to a queen. The cunning of Judith was, however, more than a match for the vigilance of her guards. By the connivance of her brother she eloped in disguise with Baldwin, great forester of France, and the fugitives were soon beyond the reach of royal resent-IN THE DAYES OF OLDE.
443
ment. The King prevailed on his bishops to excommunicate Baldwin for having forcibly carried off a widow, but the Pope disapproved of the sentence, and at his entreaty Charles gave a reluctant consent to their marriage, though neither he nor Archbishop Hincmar could be induced to assist at the ceremony. They lived in great magnificence in Flanders, the earldom of which was bestowed on them by the King; and from their union descended Matilda, the wife of William the Conqueror, who gave to England a long race of sovereigns.
See Palgrave’s History of Normandy.
The first part of the poem then—-that containing the dismal end of the English prince—is purely fictitious. The marriage brought about in the latter part, and the reconciliation at last effected between the French King and his daughter, are historical facts.
The metre is notable. The piece was sung, as we have seen, to the tune of Crimson Velvet. Could it have given the name originally to that tune ? The Queen is described in v. iii, when she is awaiting the coming of the King her father, as “ richly clad in fair crimson velvet.” This tune, says Mr. Collier, in his Rox-burghe Ballads, was “ highly popular in the reigns of Elizabeth and her successor.” “ Amongst the ballads that were sung to it,” adds Mr. Chappell in his Popular Music, “ is ‘ The lamentable complaint of Queen Mary, for the unkind departure of King Philip, in whose absence she fell sick and died ’—and c Constance of Cleveland.’”
4
Ik
the dayes of old, when faire ffrance did flourish,
storyes plaine haue 1 told, louers felt annoye.
In days of old,
the Kmg' a daughter had, bewtyous, bright, & louelye,2
which, made her ffather glad, shee was his onlye
a French. King had a lovely daughter,
10 ye.
plainly.—O.B.
2 fair and comely.—O.B.444
IN THE DÀYES OF OLDE.
whom an
English
Prince
wooed and won.
This made her father angry,
A prince of1 England came, whose deeds did merit fame;
lie woed he[r] long, & loe, att last, looke2 what he did requ[i]re, shee granted his desire ;
8 their harts in one were linked ffast:
which, when her ffather proned, Lord ! how he was moued
& tormented in his minde !
he sought -pro3 to preuent them, and to discontent them,
12 fortune crossed louers kind.
and he forbade their meeting.
The Lady packed up her jewels,
and went, poorly dressed, to meet her lover
in a forest.
But while he was waiting
outlaws robbed and stabbed him
mortally.
When these princes twaine, were thus debarred of4 plesure
through the Km^s disdaine, which their ioyes w^th-stoode,
the Ladyo gott 5 vp close, her iewells & her treasure.
16 hauing no remorse of state or royall bloode,
in homelye poore array shee went ffrom co^rt away to meete her ioy 6 & harts delight, who in a fforrest great, had taken yp his seate
20 to wayt her cominge in the night.
but see 7 what sudden danger, to this princly stranger chanced, as he sate 8 alone : by outlawes hee was robbed, & w^th ponyards9 stabbedd,
24 vttering many a dying grone.
The Prin	The princesse armed by him, and by true desire,
cess, uncon-	wandring all the night without dreat10 att all,
scious,	°	°	7
still vnknowne shee past, in her strange attyre 28 coming att the last, in the 11 Ecohes call,
1 from.—O.B.	-	5 lock’d.—O.B.	9 a Poniard.—O.B.
2 Look.—O.B.	6 Love.—O.B.	10 Dread.—O.B.
3 for.—O.B.	7 lo.—O.B.	11 Within.—O.B.
4 barr’d of.—O.B.	8 set.—O.B.IN THE DAYES OF OLDE.
445
“you ffaire woods,” qtfoth shee, “honored may you bee!
harbouring my harts delight, which, doth compasse 1 heere, my ioy & onlye deere,
32 my trustye ffreind & comelye ~K.night.
sweete, I come vnto thee, sweete, I come to woo thee, that thou maist not angrye bee. for my long delaying, & thy 2 curteous staying,
36 amends ffor all lie make to thee 3 ! ”
Passing thus alone through the silent forrest, many greeuous grones,4 sounded in her eares,5 where shee heard a man to lament the sorest 40 that was euer seene,6 fforct by deadlye teares 7 :
“ ffarwell my deere,” qw?th hee, “ whom I must8 neuer 9 see!
ffor why, my liffe is att an end ! through villanes crueltye, lo 10 ! heere for thee I dye 11 ! 44 to show I am a ffaith[f]ull ffreind,
there12 I lye a 13 bleeding, while my thoughts are feedinge
on thy 14 rarest bewtye ffound.
O hard hap that may bee, litle knowes my Ladye 48 my harts blood Lyes on the ground ! ”
W'fcth that he gaue a grone, which15 did burst in sunder16 all the tender strings of his bleedinge 17 hart, shee, which 18 knew his voice, att his tale did wonder : 62 all her former ioy,19 did to greeffe conuert.
1	encompass.—O.B.
2	One stroke too many to the y.—F.
3	make thee.—O.B.
4	Many a grievous Gf-roan.—O.B.
5	Ear.—O.B.
6	Chance that ever came.—O.B.
7	Strife.—O.B.
8	shall.—O.B.
9	MS. meuer.—F.
10	MS. to.—F.
11	For thy sweet sake I dye Through Villi an s Cruelt;
12	Here.—O.B.
13	O.B. omits a—F.
14	the.—O.B.
15	that.—O.B.
16	break asunder.—O.B.
17	gentle.—O.B.
18	who.—O.B.
10 Joys.—O.B.
thanks the woods for
harbouring her love,
and promises
to make him amends for his waiting.
Then she
hears
groans,
a lover lamenting,
bidding
farewell
to his
beautiful
love,
[page 502] and then dying.
She knows her lover’s voice,
v.—O.B.446
IN THE DAYES OF OLDE.
runs to him,
and finds him dead.
She cries
and exclaim s,
Would God I had died for thee !
straight shee ran to see, who this man shol[d] 1 be that soe like her lone did speake,
& found, when as shee came, her louely hord lay slaine,
56 all 2 smeared in blood w/itch liffe did breake.
when this deed shee spyed,3 Lord, how sore shee cryed!
her sorrow cannott4 counted bee. her eyes like fountaines runinge, while shee cryed out, “ my darli[ng !] 5
60 wold god that I had dyed for thee ! ”
She kisses him,
wipes the blood from him with her golden hair, and prays him for one word of comfort.
Alas! in vain.
She mourns
till the day comes,
His pale lipps, alas, 20 times shee kissed,
& his fface did washe, wddi her trickling 6 teares, euery bleeding wound, her faire eyes 7 bedewed,
64 wipinge of the blood, with her golden haires.
“speake, faire 8 loue ! ” q&oth shee, “speake, faire9 prince, to me!
one sweete word of comfort giue ! lifet yp thy fayre eyes, listen to my cryes !
68 thinke in what great greeffe I liue ! ”
all in vaine shee sewed, all in vaine shee ye wed,10 the princesse 11 liffe was dead 12 and gone, there stood shee still mourning, yntill13 the sunns 14 approehing,15
72	& bright day was coming on.
and then resolves
not to return to court, but to seek service somewhere.
“ In this great16 distresse,” q?ioth this royall Ladye, “ who can now expre[s], what will become of me ? to my ffathers court will I neuer 17 wander,
76 but some service seeke where I may placed bee.”
1	might.—O.B.
2	O.B. omits All.—F.
3	Which when that she espyed.—O.B.
4	could not.—O.B.
6 Query the MS. The. a or ar is blotched, and the g and half the n pared away.—F.
6 brinish.—O.B.	7 face.—O.B.
8 my.—O.B.	9 dear.—O.B«
10	wooed.—O.B.
11	Prince’s.—O.B.
12	fled.—O.B.
13	Till.—O.B.
14	sums in the MS.—F.
15 returning.—P.	16 sad,—O.B. 17 Never will I—O.B.IN THE DAYES OF OLDE.
447
80
84
& 1 thus shee made her mone, weeping all alone, all in dread 2 and deadlye ffeare.
A fforrester all in greene, most comely to he seene, ranging the woods,3 did ffind her there, round besett w^/th sorrow, “maid,4 ” qt^oth [he,5] “god morrowe !
what hard hap hath brought you heere ? ”
“ harder happ did neuer, chance ynto 6 maiden euer, heere lyes slaine my brother deere !
A forester
accosts her.
She tells him
her brother lies slain,
88
92
96
“ where might I be placed, gentle forster, tell mee, where shall7 I procure a service in my neede P paines I will8 not spare, but will doe my dutye;
ease mee of my care, helpe my extreme neede ! ” the fforrester all amazed, att9 her bewtye gazed till his hart was sett on ffire :
“ if, .ffaire mayd,” qitoth hee, “ you will goe with mee,
and asks him
where she can get taken into service.
The forester
falls in love with her,
you shall haue your harts desire.” he brought her to his mother, & aboue all other he sett fforth this maydens praise, long was his hart inflamed, att last10 her loue he gained:
thus did fortune 11 his glory raise;
takes her to his mother,
gains her love,
100
Thus vnknowen he macht, w^th a12 K.ings ffaire daughte[r] ;
children 7 shee13 had ere shee told the same.14 but when he vnderstood, shee was a royall princesse, by this meanes att last, hee shewed forth, her15 fame :
and so marries a King’s daughter. She bears him seven children, and then tells him who she is.
1	Whilst.—O.B.
2	In this deep.—O.B.
3	wood.—O.B.
. 4 Fair Maid.—O.B.
5	quoth he.—P. & O.B.
6	to.—O.B.
7	might.—O.B.
8	will I.—O.B.
9	On.—O.B.
10	length.—O.B.
11	So Fortune did.—O.B.
12	the.—O.B.
13	he.—O.B.
14	to him was known.—O.B.
15	? MS. ther with the t blotched out. —F. her.—O.B.448
IN THE DATES OF OLDE.
He dresses his children in cloth of gold on the left side, wool on tho right.
he clothed his children then, not like to other men, in partye coulors strange to see ; • the left1 side, cloth of gold; the right2 side, now 3 behold,
104 of wollen cloth still fframed hee.
The King of France comes
to the forest to hunt,
men heratt4 did wonder, golden fame did thunder5 this strange deede in euery place, the King of ffrance came thither, being pleasan[t] 6 whether,
108 in the 7 woods the harts8 to chase.
and the children are placed in his way, with the mother in velvet,	112
the father in grey.
The King asks him how he dares dress his
wife and	116
children so.
“ Because their mother is a prin-
The children then 9 did stand, as their father10 willed, where the royall King must of force come by, their mother richly clad, in faire crimson 11 veluett, their ffather all in gray, comelye12 to the eye. then the13 famous King, noting euery thinge, did aske “how hee durst be soe bold to let his wiffe to weare, & decke his children the [re,] in costly robes of cloth, of14 gold.” the fforrester replyed,15 & the cause descryed ;
to 16 the King thus did hee 17 say:
“ well may they by their mother, weare rich gold18 with other,
120 being by birth a princesse 19 gay.”
The King	The King ypon these words, more heedfully beheld
them,
till a crimson blush his conceipt did crosse :
1	Eight.—O.B.
2	Left.—O.B.
3	to.—O.B.
4	thereat.—O.B.
5	MS. thinder.—F.
6	The t is put on by a later hand.—F.
7	these.—O.B.
8	Hart.-^O.B.
9	there.—O.B.
19 Mother.—O.B.
11	MS. crinson.—F.
12	Most comely.—O.B.
13	When this.—O.B.
14	of Pearl and.—O.B.
15	boldly reply’d.—O.B. ,
16	And to.—O.B.
17	he thus did.—O.B.
18	Cloaths.—O.B.
19	Only half the n in the MS.—F.IN THE DATES OF OLDE.	449
“ the more,” q^oth	hee,	“	I	looke 1	on	thy wiffe & says the
m -n i	mother
Omlaren,	must be
his lost
124 [The more I call to mind the Daughter whom I daughter. lost.”]2
“ I am that child,” q^oth shee, falling on her knee ;	503J
“ pardon mee, my soueraine leege ! ”	that she is.
the 'King perceiuing this, did his daughter 3 kisse,	He kisses
128	&4 ioyfhll teares did	stopp	his speech.	her’
wrbh his traine he turned, & wrfch them 5 soiourned ;
straight hee dubd her husband knight,	knights.
her husband,
then 6 made him Erie of fflanders, one of his cheefe and makes
7	him Earl of
commanders:	Flanders.
132 thus was his sorrow1 put to Slight. ffinis.
1	I look, quoth he.*—O.B.
2	O.B. The line was pared off the folio by the binder.—F.
3	His Daughter dear did.—O.B.
^ ’Till.—O.B.
5	her.—O.B.
6	He.—O.B.
7	were their Sorrows.—O.B.
G G
YOL. III.450
^minias»1
Amintas is here chided for his inconstancy by the unhappy victim of it, who, having said her say and moaned her moan, dies. The piece is but commonplace. The allusion to the name-cutting on the trees will remind the reader of Orlando’s habit, so distasteful to Jacques. Both in the stanza that contains it and in the preceding one the poet closely imitates the pretty lines Ovid puts in poor forlorn (Enone’s mouth, or rather assigns to her pen, in his Fifth Heroid:
Incisse servant a te mea nomina fagi,
Et legor (Enone falce notata tua ;
Et quantum tranci, tantum mea nomina crescunt.
Crescite et in títulos surgite recta meos.
Populus est, memini, fluviali consita ripa,
Est in qua nostri litera scripta memor.
Popule, vive precor, quae consita margine ripse Hoc in rugoso cortice carmen habes :
Quum Paris (Enone poterit spirare relicta,
Ad fontem Xanthi versa recurret aqua.'
Xanthe, retro propera, Versseque recurrite lymphse, Sustinet (Enonen deseruisse Paris.
One hot day, Amintas
Amintas, on a summers day
drove his flocks to water,
to shunn Apolloes beames, went driuing of his fflockes away
4 to tast some cooling streames. and through a fforrest as hee went,
and heard
neere to a riuer side, a voice which from a groue was sent,
8 invited him to abyde :
An' old Song not inelegant or unpoetical.—P.AMINTAS.
451
A voice well seeming 1 to bewraye a discontented mind, ffor offtentimes I bard bim 2 say,
12	10000 times, “vnkinde! ”
tbe remnant3 of tbis ragged mone wold not escape my eare till enery sigb brongbt fforth a grone,
16	& enery sobb a teare.
But leaning ber vnto ber-selfe;— in sorrowes, sigbes, & mone,
I beard a deadly discontent:
20 these 2 brake ffortb att one :
“ Amintas ! is my lone to tbee of sncb 4 small acconnt, that tbon disdainest to looke on mee,
24	& lone as tbon was wont ?
“ How often 5 didest tbon protest to me, ‘ tbe beanens sbold tnrne to nangbt, tbe snmi sbold ffirst obscnred bee,
28 ere tbon wold change tby tbongbt! ’ bnt beanens, be yon dissolned qnite !
snnn, show tby fface no more! ffor my Amintas, bee is lost,
32 a ! woe 6 is me therffore !
a voice
complain-
ing,
Oh. unkind Î
A girl
broke forth “ Amintas!
Why dost thou disdain me?
Alas!
Amintas is lost to me.
“ How oft didst tbon ingrane our names, neere to tbe rocke of7 Bay ? still wishing that onr Lone sbold bane 36 no worse snccesse then they.
bnt they in grones still happy prone,
& fflonrish doe the still,
whiles I [in 8] sorrow doe remaine,	sorrowfand
.want my
40 still wanting of my will,	love.
MS. seemimg.—F.	-	s oft did’st, as in line 33.—Dyce.
it.—P.	6 Ah! woe.—P,
MS. rennant.—F.	7 on.—P.
[insert] a.—P.	8 in.—P,452
AMIN TAS.
False man,	“ 0 ffalse, forsworne, & ffathelesse man! disloyall in thy lone !
thou hast broken thy promise, and left me alone	thou hast fforgott thy promises, 44 and dost vnconstant proue. & thou hast [left*] me all alone in this woefull distresse,
to end my days in woe.”	to end my dayes in heauinesse, 48 which well thc>u might redresse.”
She breathed her last,	And then shee sate vpon the ground, her sorrowes to deplore ; hut after this was neuer seene 52 to sigh nor sobb noe more. And thus in loue as shee did liue,
and died for love.	soe ffor loue shee did dye 2 ; a ffairer creature neuer man 56 beheld wiih morttall eye. ffinis.
1 left.-	-P. 2 Shee for her love did.—P.453
OTuuttge of CalesC
This ballad, of which another copy is preserved in Deloney’s Garland of Good Will, reprinted by the Percy Society, celebrates what Macaulay has declared to be “ the most brilliant military exploit that was achieved on the Continent by English arms during the long interval which elapsed between the battle of Agincourt and that of Blenheim” (Essay on Lord Bacon). It was undoubtedly written at the time, as the details are extremely accurate. It may have been written, as Percy suggests in his Introduction to his “ corrected ” Folio version in the Reliques, by some person concerned in the expedition. Certainly it is eminently authentic. The vauntings and threatenings of the Spaniards (they were meditating a second Armada about the year 1596)—the setting forth from Plymouth under Howard of Effingham (the Lord Admiral) and the brave impetuous Earl of Essex, as commanders-in-chief (amongst the other officers were the Lord Thomas Howard, Sir Walter Ealeigh, Sir Francis Yere, Sir Greorge Carew, Sir Corners Clifford)—the capturing or burning of the ships beneath Cadiz—the landing of the soldiery and surrender of the town— the enormous booty seized—the generous protection by the Earl of the women and children—the advance to the market-place— are all historical facts; of which there are, as Lingard points out, several accounts by Birch, Camden, Stowe, Strype, Raleigh.
“ Never before,” says Lingard, “ had the Spanish monarch received so severe a blow. He lost thirteen men of war and immense magazines of provisions and naval stores ; the defences of Cadiz, the strongest fortress in his dominions, had been razed to the ground; and the
1 An excellent old ballad: on tbe Under the Lord Admiral Howard, & Winning of Cadiz—on June 21s} 1596:	Earl of Essex, General.—P.454
WININGE OF CALES.
secret of his weakness at home had been revealed to the world, at the same time that the power of England had been raised in the eyes of the European nations. Even those who wished well to Spain, allotted the praise of moderation and humanity to the English commanders, who had suffered no blood to be wantonly spilt, no woman to be defiled, but had sent under an escort the nuns and females to the port of St. Mary, and had allowed them to carry away their jewels and wearing apparel.”
“The town of Cales,” says Raleigh (apud Cayley, i. 272) “ was very rich in merchandise, in plate, and money; many rich prisoners given to the land commanders, so as that sort are very rich. Some had prisoners for 16,000 ducats, some for 20*000, some for 10,000, and beside great houses of merchandise.”
fpage 504] The proud Spaniards boasted they’d conquer us.
Long : the proud Spamyareds had vanted to conquer vs,
threatning 1 our Country with ffyer & sorde, often preparing their nauy most sumptuos, with as great plenty as spaine cold afforde : duba-dub, dub-a-dub ! thus strikes their drummes. tanta-ra, ra-ra ! the Englishmen comes !
But Howard
and Essex
To the seas presentlye went our Lord Admirall,
8 with 'knights 2 couragyous, & captaines ffull good; The Erie of Essex, a prosperous generall, with him prepared to passe the salt ffloode. dub a dub &e.
set sail from 12 Att plimmouth speedilye, tooke they shipp valliantly
Plymouth,	i	i •	,
brauer shipps neuer weere seene vnder sayle, with their ffayre colours spread, & streamers ore their hea[d].
now, bragging spanyards, take heede of yo^r tayle ! 16 dub &c.
1 One stroke too few in the MS.—F.
Knights.—P.WININGE OF CALES.
455
Vnto cales 1 cunmglye came wee most speedylye,	and
anchored at
where the Kmys nauye securely did ryde ;	Cadiz,
being vpon their backes, pearcing their butts of sackes,
20 ere any spanyards our coming descryde. dub : &c.
Great was the crying, runing & rydinge,
w^ch att that season was made in that place ; the beacons were ffyered, as need then required ;
24 to hyde their great treasure they had litle space
The
Spaniards hurried to and fro, and lighted their beacons.
Thei% you might see their shipps, how they were hired We fired ffast,	tteU Sl“PS’
& how their men drowned themselues in the sea ; drowned
7 their men,
there might they here them crye, wayle & weepe piteouslye,
28 when they saw no shifft to scape thence away.
The great Saint Phillipp, the pryde of the Spanyards, sank their was burnt to the bottom, & sunke in the sea. but the Saint Andrew & eke the Saint Mathew,	ayd. t0°k
7	their St.
32 wee tooke in ffight manfullye, & brought them Andrew, away.
The Erie of Essex most yallyant and hardy,	Essex
w^th horsemen & ffootmen marched toward the marched
with our
towne.	army to the
town.
the spanyards which saw them, were greatly affrighted,
36 did fflye ffor their sauegard, & durst not come dow[ne.]
“Now,” quoth the Noble Erie, “courage, my soul-diers all!
ffight and be vallyant! they 2 spoyle you shall haue, & [be 3] well rewarded from they 4 great to the small; 40 but looke that women & Children you saue.”
1 So they called Cadiz in Queen Elizabeth’s Time.—P.
3	be.—P.
4	the.—P.
2 the.—P.456
WININGE OE CALES.
The
Spaniards
surrendered,
we put our colours on their walls,
plundered their houses,
and took their fair satins and velvets.
And when our
prisoners
wouldn’t pay their ransom,
we burnt their town
and marcht away.
The spanyards att that sight though[t] in vaine twas to fight,
hunge ypp ffiaggs of truce,1 yeelded the towne. wee marcht in presentlye, decking the walls on hye 44 with our English coulours, which purchast renowne.
Entring the houses then of the most richest men, ffor gold & treasure wee serched eche day: in some places wee did ffind pyes bakeing in the oue[n],
48 meate att the ffire rosting, & ffolkes filed away.
fiull of rich merchandize euery shop wee did see, damaskes, & sattins, & yeluetts, fiull fiaire, which souldiers mesured out by the lenght of their swo[rds.]
52 of all comodytyes eche one had a share.
Thus cales was taken, & bur braue generall
marcht to the markett-place where hee did stand; there many prisoners of good account were tooke,
56 many craued mercy, & mercy they found.2
When our braue generall saw they delayed time,
& wold not ransome their towne, as they said; with their faire wainescotts, their presses & bedsteeds, 60 thehffioyned stooles & tables, a ffire were made.
& when the towne burned all in a filame,
with ta-ra, tan-ta-ra, away wee came !	ffinis.
[insert] &.—P.
fann’d, Bliythmi gratia.—P.457
OftjtoatU tfre tinrti*1
Copies of this ballad occur in the Garland of Good Will, the Collection, pf Old Ballads. In Halliwell’s Descriptive Notices of Popular English Histories, Percy Soc. 1848, No. 63 is “The Story of King Edward III. and the Countess of Salisbury, 12mo. Whitehaven, n. d. This is a small prose history; and there is one, if not more [than one,] early play on the same subject. A ballad . . is printed in Evans’ Old Ballads, ed. 1810, ii. 301.”
This ballad tells how Edward the Third became enamoured of the Countess of Salisbury, and how the brave lady most excellently converted him to a better mind.
Chapter lxxvii. of Berners’ Cronycle of Froissart narrates “ how the kyng of England was in amours with the Countess of Salisbury.” She receives the king at Wark Castle, and by her exceeding beauty and grace strikes him “to the hert with a sparcle of fyne love.” He falls into a “ gret study.” Presently she “ came to the kyng with a mery chere.”
She came to the kyng with a mery chere, who was in a gret stndy, (and she sayd) dere syr, why do ye stndy so for, yonr grace nat dyspleased, it aparteyneth nat to yon so to do: rather ye shnlde make good chere and be ioyfnll, seyng ye hane chased away yonr enmies, who dnrst nat abyde yon: let other men stndy for the remynant; than the kyng sayd, a, dere lady, knowe for tronthe, that syth I entred into the castell, ther is a stndy come to my mynde, so that I can nat chnse bnt to mnse, nor I can nat tell what shall fall therof, pnt it ont of my herte I can nat: a sir, qnoth the lady, ye onght alwayes to make good chere, to confort therwith yonr peple : god hath ayded yon so in yonr besynes, and hath gynen yon so great graces, that ye be the moste donted and hononred prince in all christe^dome, and if the kyng of scottes hane done yon any dyspyte
1 In the printed Collection of Old Ballads 1726, Vol. 2, p. 68, N. xi.—P.458
EDWARD THE THIRD.
or damage, ye may well amende it whan it shall please yon, as ye hane done dynerse tymes or this ; sir, leave yonr mnsyng and come into the hall, if it please yon, yonr dyner is all redy ; a, fayre lady, quoth the kyng : other thynges lyeth at my hert that ye knowe nat of: bnt snrely the swete behanyng, the perfyt wy^edom, the good grace, noblenes, and exellent beanty, that I se in yon, hath so sore surprised my hert, that I can nat bnt lone yon, and without yonr lone I am bnt deed: than the lady sayde, a, ryght noble prince, for goddessake moeke nor tempt me nat: I can nat bylene that it is true that ye say, nor that so noble a prince as ye be, wold thynke to dyshononr me, and my lorde, my hnsbande, who is so valyant a knight, and hath done yonr grace so gode sernyce, and as yet lyethe in prison for yonr quarell; certenly sir, ye shnlde in this case hane bnt a small prayse, and nothyng the better therby : I had nener as yet such a thought in my hert, nor I trust in god nener shall hane, for no man lyueng ; if I had any snche intencyon, yonr grace ought nat all onely to blame me, bnt also to pnnysshe my body, ye and by true instice to be dismembred: therwith the lady departed fro the kyng, and went into the hall to hast the dyner, than she returned agayne to the kyng, and broght some of his knyghtes with her, and sayd, sir, yf it please yon to come into the hall, yonr knightes abideth for yon to wasshe, ye hane ben to long fastyng. Then the kyng went into the hall and wassht, and sat down amonge his lordes, and the lady also; the kyng ete bnt lytell, he sat sty 11 mnsyng, and as he durst, he cast his eyen vpon the lady: of his sadnesse his knyghtes had maruell, for he was nat acnstomed so to be ; some thought it was bycanse the scottes were scaped fro hym. All that day the kyng taryed ther, and wyst nat what to do*: somtyme he ymagined that honour and tronth defended him to set, his hert in such a case, to dyshononr such a lady, and so true a knyght as her husband was, who had alwayes well and trnely serned hym. On thother part, lone so constrayned hym, that the power therof surmounted honour and trouth: thus the kyng debated in hymself all that day, and all that night; in the mornyng he arose and dysloged all his hoost, and drewe after the scottes, to chase them out of his realme. Than he toke leane of the lady, sayeng, my dere lady, to god I commende yon tyll I returne agayne, reqniryng yon to aduyse yon otherwyse than ye hane sayd to me : noble prince, qnoth the lady, god the father glorious be yonr conduct, and put yon out of all vylayne thonghtes : sir, I am, and ener shal be redy to do yonr grace sernyce to yonr honour and to myne ; therwith the kyng departed all abasshed.EDWARD THE THIRD.
459
Not long afterwards, when the king held his Bound Table at Windsor, his passion was still fervent. Probably this passion thus entertained by the king about the time when he instituted the Order of the Garter suggested to the popular mind the traditional story which professes to explain the name and the motto of the Order. The earliest occurrence of that story is, perhaps, in the Anglica Historia of Polydore Vergil; but he omits the name of the countess. The tale soon won general acceptance. There is no historical evidence for it whatever. It is but a specimen of what may be called vulgar etymology.
The 66 sleight of fine advice,” by which the countess in the following ballad saves her own and the king’s honour, is admirably told.
8
WHEN: as Edward the 3? did liue, that vallyant in Edward
,	III.’s time,
&mg,
david of Scottland to rebell did then begin;	. David ii. of
Scotland
the towne of Barwicke suddenlye ffrom vs he woone, took
J	'	1 Berwick,
& burnt Newcastle to the ground: thus strife begun, burnt New-
°	° castle,
to Rose-bury 1 castle marchet he then,
& by the force of warlicke men beseiged therin a gallant ffaire Ladye while that her husband was in ffrance, his countryes honor to advance,
and besieged Lady
Salisbury in
Rosebury
Castle.
[The Noble and Famous Earl of Salisbury.]2
12
16
Braue Sir william Montague rode then in post,3 who declared vnto the 'King the Scottishmens hoast; who like a Lyon in a rage did straight-way prepare ffor to deliuer that woefull4 Lady from wofull care, but when the Scottishmen did heare say Edward our king was comen 5 that day,
[page 505] News is brought to Edward, and be prepares to march north,
on which the Scotch raise ttie
1	Koxbury.—O.B.	^	3 haste.—O.B.
2	O.B. The line is pared away in the	4 fair.—O.B.
MB.—F.	5 come.—O.B.460
EDWARD THE THIRD.
siege and run away,
so that the Lady
alone meets Edward.
He falls in love with her.
She thanks him for frightening her foes,
thé raised their seege, & ran away with speede,1 soe that when he did thither come wrbh warlike trumpett, ffiffe, & drum,
20 none but a gallant Lady did him meete 2 ;
who 3 when hee did wtth greedy eyes behold & see, her peereles bewtye straight4 inthralld5 his mai-estye ;
& euer the longer that he looked, the more hee might, 24 for in her only bewty was his harts delight.
& humbly then vpon her knee
shee thankett his royall maiestye
that he had driuen danger ffrom her gate.
28	“ Lady,” quoth, he., “ stand vp in peace,
although my warr doe now increase.”
<c Lord, keepe,” quoth shee, “ all hurt ffrom youv estate 6 ! ”
Edward is sad for love
of the Countess,
and tells her he has been
wronged.
She says, “ Tell me how,
and I’ll right it.”
Now is the 'King ffull sad in soule; & wott you 7 why;
32 all 8 for the loue of the faire countesse 9 Salsbury. shee, litle knowing his cause of greefe, did come to see wherefore his highnesse sate alone soe heauilye :
“I haue beene wronged, faire dame,” quoth hee,
36	“ since I came hither vnto thee.”
“ no, god forbid, my souerainge ! ” shee sayd10 ;
“ if I were worthy for to know the cause & ground of this jouv woe,
40 itt11 shold be helpet if itt did Lye in mee.12 ”
“ Swear that,” says Edward.
“ Sweare to perforate to me thy words, thou Lady
gay;
to thee the sorrow of my hart I will bewray.13 ”
1	Fear.—0.33.
2	met he there.—O.B.
3	whom.—O.B.
4	did.—O.B.
5	enthrall.—O.B.
6 State.—O.B.	7 wots not.—O.B.
,8 And—O.B.
9	Countess Of.—O.B.
10	said she.—O.B.
11	You.—O.B.
12	thy Word to me.—O.B.
13	betray.—O.B.EDWARD THE THIRD.
461
“ I sweare by all the Samts in heanen I will,” q^oth shee,
44	“ & lett my Lord haue no mistrust at all in me.”
“ Then take thy selfe asyde,” he sayd ; q^oth hee,1,, “thy bewtye hath betrayd & wounded 2 a 'king w^’th thy bright shining eye ;
48 if thou doe then some mercy show, thou shalt expell a princes woe ; soe shall I liue, or else in sorrow dye.”
“ you haue you[r] wish, my soueraine Lord, effect-uallye:
52 take all the loue 3 that I may4 giue jour maiestye.” “ but in 5 thy bewtye all my woes 6 haue their abode.” “ take then7 my bewtye from my face, my gracyous Lord.”
“ didst thou not sweare to grant my will P ”
56 “all 8 that I may, I will fulfill.”
“ then 9 for my loue let thy 10 true loue be seene.”
“ my Lord, your speech I might reproue ; you cannott giue to me ycmr loue,
60 ffor that alone11 belongs ynto youx queene :
“ But I suppose ycmr grace did this onlye to trye whether a wanton tale might tempt Dame Salsburge; Nor 12 ffrom youv selfe therfore, my leege, my stepps doe stray,
64 but from your tempting wanton13 tale I goe my way. ’ ’ “0 turne againe, thou 14 Lady bright! come ynto me, my hartes delight!
1	For why.—O.B.
2	Wounding.—O.B.
3	Leave.—O.B.
4	can.—O.B.
5	on.—O.B.
6	Joys.—O.B.
7	thou.—O.B.
8	O.B. omits all.—F,
9	All then.—O.B.
10	my.—O.B.
11	O.B. omits alone.—
12	Not.—O.B.
13	wanton tempting.-
14	my.—O.B.
She swears,
and the King says, “You have wounded me;
show me mercy, or
I shall die.”
“ I give you all the love I may.”
“ But grant my will,
love me,” says the King.
“ You are trying to tempt me,” says Lady Salisbury.
“ I go from your tempting talk.”
F.
O.B.462
EDWAKD THE THIED.
Lord
Warwick,
the
Countess’s
father,
gone is the comfort of my pensine liart. 68 heere comes the Elie of warwicke, hee the father of this faire Ladye ; my mind to him I meane for to impart,’,
asks Edward why he is grieved.
“ I adore your
daughter.”
“ why is my Lord & soueraine1 soe greened in mind ? ” 72	“ because that I hane lost the thing I cannott find.”
“ what thing is that, my gracyons Lo rd, that2 yon hane lost P ”
“ itt is my heart, wA^'ch is neare dead twixt3 ffire & frost.”
“ cnrst be the 4 ffire, & ffrost too,
76 that canseth 5 this jour hynesse woe ! ”
“ 0 warwicke! thon dost wrong me wonderous6 sore. It is thy daughter, Noble Erie ; that heanen-bright lampe, that peereles pearle,
80 which kills my hart; yett I doe 7 her adore.”
“ I’ll persuade her to yield to you.”
Warwick
meets his daughter,
tells her the King is
“ If that be all, my gracyons [Lord,] 8 that workes jour greefe,
I will perswade the scornefnll dame to yeelde releefe. neuer shall shee my daughter be if shee refuse ;
84 the lone & ffauor of a king may her excuse.” thus whylye 9 warwicke went his way,10 & quite contrary he did say when as hee did the bewtyous conntesse meete :
88 “well mett, my dangheter deere,11 ” quoth, hee,
“ a message I must doe to thee: our royall King most kindlye [doth thee greete ; ]
[page 506] dying for her love, and urges her to grant it.
The 'K.ing will dye ynlesse to him thon grant12 thy lone.”
92	“ to lone the King, my husbands lone I shall13 remoue.”
1	Sovereign King.—O.B,
2	Which.—O.B.
3	Betwixt.—O.B.
4	that.—O.B.
6 caused.—O.B,
6 very.—O.B,
8	King,—O.B.
9	wise.—O.B.
19 away.—O.B.
11	then.—O.B.
12	less thou to him Do grant.—O.B.
13	must,—O.B.
? do I.—O.B.EDWARD THE THIRD.
463
“It is right cbarytye to lone, my daughter deere.” “but not1 true loue, soe 2 chary table to 3 appeare.”
“ his greatnesse may beare out the blame.4 ”
96	“ but his kingdome cannott buy out the shame.5 ”
“ he craues thy loue that may bereaue thy liffe ; itt is my duty to urge thee this 6 ! ”
“ but not my 7 honestye to yeeld, I-wis ;
100 I meane to dye a true ynspotted wiffe.”
“ How hast thou spoken, my daughter deere, as I . wold hau[e];
chastity beares a golden name vnto her 8 graue ;
& when vnto9 thy wedded Lord thouproues vntrue, 104 then lett my bitter cursses still thy soule pursue, then w^th á smiling cheere goe thou, as right & reason doth allowe,
yett show the Kmg thou bearest no strumpetts minde.”
108 “I goe, deere ffatber, with 10 a trice ;
& w-ith11 a sleight of ffine deuice lie cause the Kmg 12 conffesse that I am kind.13 ”
“ Heere comes the Lady of my liffe ! ” the King did say.
112 “my ffather bidds me, soueraigne Lord, jouv will obay,
and I consent if you will grant one boone to mee.”
“ I grant itt thee, my Lady ffaire, what-ere itt bee ! ” “ my husband is aliue, you know ;
116 ffirst lett mee	kill him	ere I goe,
1 no.—O.I>.	2 O.B.	omits soe,—F.	8	the.—O.B.
3	For to.—O.B.	9	to.—O.B.
4	Shame.—O.B.	10	in.—O.B.
5	Blame.—O.B.	11	by.—O.B.
6	move this.—O.B.	12	King to.—O.B.
7	thy.—O.B.	13	confess I’m not nnkinch-
She refuses i
she will he
true to her husband.
Warwick approves her answer:
would curse her if she were untrue.
She must show the King she’s no strumpet.
She says she’ll bring him round.
She tells Edward that she’ll yield to him if he’ll let her kill her husband.
O.B.464
EDWARD THE THIRD.
“ But lie is in France.” “ No, in my breast:”
& att your command e ffor euer will I bee 1 ! ” “ thy husband now in ffrance doth rest.”
“ noe, noe ! bee lyes within my brest;
120	& being soe nye,2 bee will my ffalshoode see.’’
and she tries to stab herself.
The King says she
shan’t do it. “ Then I’ll not lie with you.”
“ No, live on in honour with your Lord!
I’ll trouble you no more.”
w^tb that shee started ffrom the King, & tooke her kniffe,
& desperattly sbee thought to rydd her seife of liffe. the Kmg ypstarted 3 ffrom bis cbayre her band to stay:
124	“0 noble Kmg, you baue broke your word w^tb me
this day.”
“ thou sbalt not doe this deed,” q^oth bee.
“ then will I neuer 4 lye with thee.”
“ now liue thou 5 still, & lett me beare the blame ;
128 liue thou6 in honour & in6 high estate with thy true Lord & wedded mate !
I will neuer7 attempt this suite againe.” fSnis.
1	I will ever be.—O.B.
2	MS. mye.—F.
3	be started.—O.B.
4	never will I.—O.B.
5	No; then live.—O.B.
6	O.B. omits thou and in,—P.
7	never will.—O.B.465
9ls! pee tame from tfte ®olj)e
This piece occurs also in the Garland of Good Will, reprinted by the Percy Society ; from which reprint Prof. Child draws the version he gives in his collection. The copy given in the Reliques was communicated to the editor by the late Mr. Shenstone, as corrected by him from an ancient copy, and supplied with a concluding stanza. Shenstone’s edition differs not materially from the following one from the Folio except in this said concluding stanza, which is this:
But true love is a lasting fire Which viewless vestals tend,
That burnes for ever in the soule And knowes nor change nor end.
A note considerately instructs the reader that by “ viewless vestals” is meant “angels”! What a shocking discord the phrase makes ! It has about the same effect as if you should add to the costume of a gentleman of Queen Elizabeth’s time one of Linco]n and Bennett’s newest and silkiest hats!
A lover growing or grown old, it would seem, has been left in the lurch by the object of his affections. As all the world thronged to Walsingham, the lover supposes that she too must have gone that way; and meeting a pilgrim returning from that English Holy Land, asks him if he has seen anything of her runaway ladyship. The lover, having described how his true and untrue love may be known from many another one, learns that she has been met making for Walsingham; and then, asked why she has deserted him, explains that, though she once loved him, she has lost her love now he waxes old, and generally, that a
VOL. in.
H H466
AS YEE CAME FROM THE HOLYE.
woman’s love is genuine passion
ever capricious and veering; whereas the
is a durable fire In the mind ever burning,
Ever sick, never dead, never cold, Erom itself never turning.
The Pilgrimage to Walsingham, says Percy, “ suggested the plan of many popular pieces. In the Pepys collection, vol. i. p. 226, is a kind of Interlude in the old ballad style, of which the first stanza alone is worth reprinting:
As I went to Walsingham,
To the shrine with speede,
Met I with a jolly palmer In a pilgrimes weede.
“ Now God you save, you jolly palmer !M
“Welcome, lady gay,
Oft have I sued to thee for love.”
“ Oft have I said you nay.”
“ The pilgrimages undertaken on pretence of religion were often productive of affairs of gallantry, and led the votaries to no other shrine than that of Venus.
“ The following ballad was once very popular; it is quoted in Fletcher’s1 * Knight of the Burning Pestle, Act II. sc. ult.; and in another old play called Hans Beer-pot, his Invisible Comedy, &c. Act I. 4to. 1618.”
Of the tune of Walsingham, Mr. Chappell observes : “ This tune is in Queen Elizabeth’s and Lady Neville’s Virginal Books (with thirty variations by Dr. John Bull), in Anthony Holborne’s Cittham Schools, 1597, in Barley’s New Booh of Tablature, 1596, &c. It is called * Walsingham,’ 6 Here with you to Walsingham,’ and ‘As I went to Walsingham.’ It belongs, in all probability, to an earlier reign, as the Priory of Walsingham in Norfolk, which was founded during the episcopate of William Bishop of Norwich (1146 to 1174), was dissolved in 1538. Pilgrimages to this once
1 It is by no means certain that	position of The Knight of the Burning
Beaumont had not a share in the com-	Pestle.—Dyce.AS YEE CAME FROM THE HOLYE.
467
famous shrine commenced in or before the reign of Henry III., who was there in 1241; Edward I. was at Walsingham in 1280, and again in 1296, and Edward II. in 1315. The author of the Vision of Piers Ploughman says,
Heremytes on a hepe with hooked staves
Wenten to Walsingham, and her (their) wenches after.
“ Henry VII. having kept his Christmas of 1436-7 at Norwich, from thence went in manner of pilgrimage to Walsingham, where he visited Our Lady’s Church, famous for miracles; and made his prayers and vows for help and deliverance; and in the following summer, after the battle of Stoke, he sent his banner to be offered to our Lady of Walsingham, where before he made his vows.
“ In The Weakest goes to the Wall, 1600, the scene being laid in Burgundy, the following lines are given:
King Richard’s gone to Walsingham, to the Holy Land,
To kill Turk and Saracen, that the truth do withstand,
Christ his cross he his good speed, Christ his foes to quell Send him help in time of need, and to come home well.
“In Nashe’s 4 Have with you to Saffron-WTalden,’ 1596, sign. L, ‘ As I went to Walsingham ’ is quoted, which is the first line of the ballad in the Pepysian collection, vol. i. p. 226*
“ One of the Psalmes and Songs of Sion, turned into the language and set to the tunes of a strange land, 1642, is to the tune of Walsingham; and Osborne, in his Traditional Memoirs in the reigns of Elizabeth and James, 1653, speaking of the Earl of Salisbury, says :
Many a hornpipe he tuned to his Phillis,
And sweetly sung Walsingham to ’s Amaryllis.
“In Don Quixote, translated by J. Phillips, 1688, p. 273, he says : ‘An infinite number of little birds, with painted wings of various colours hopping from branch to branch, all naturally singing ‘Walsingham ’ and whistling ‘John come kiss me now.’”
Perhaps the most interesting picture of this once popular resort
H H 2468
AS YEE CAME FROM THE HOLYE.
of the people of all nations is drawn by Erasmus in his colloquy between Menedemus and Ogygius, entitled Peregrinatio Reli-gionis ergo. Ogygius, it seems, had been missing for sometime, for some six months, and had been given out for dead. But at last, to the surprise of his friend and neighbour Menedemus, he turns up and accounts for his eclipse. Visi,” he says, “ divum Jacobum Compostellanum, et hinc reversus Yirginem Paratha-lassiam apud Anglos percelebrem ; quin potius hanc revisi, nam ante annos tres inviseram.” “Animi gratia ut arbitror,” suggests Menedemus. “Imo religionis causa,” rejoins the other. “De Jacobo frequenter audivi,” presently says the stay-at-home; “ sed obsecro te describe mihi regnum istius Parathalassiae.” And then follows a long gossiping account of the buildings, the relics, the traditions, the miracles appertaining to the famous spot; which, for the curious details it furnishes, and the dry humour with which these are accepted by the less enthusiastic Menedemus, is well worth reading. The pilgrim sees “ Sacellum prodigiis plenum.” Ci Eo me confero,” he says. “ Excipit alius mystagogus. Illic oravimus paulisper. Mox exhibetur nobis articulus humani digiti, e tribus maximi; exosculor: deinde rogo cujus sint reliquiae. Ait, Sancti Petri. Num Apostoli, inquani ? Aiebat. Deinde contemplans magnitudinem articuli, qui gigantis videri potuerit: Oportuit, inquam, Petrum fuisse virum praegrandi corpore. Ad hanc vocem e comitibus quidam in cachinnum solutus est; id certe moleste tuli. Nam si is siluisset, aedituus nos nihil celasset reliquorum. Eum tamen utcunque placavimus, datis aliquot drachmis. Ante aediculam erat tectum, quod aiebat hiberno tempore, cum nix obtexisset omnia, eo subito fuisse delatum e longi-quo. Sub eo tecto putei duo ad summum pleni; fontis venam aiunt esse, sacram divae Yirgini; liquor est mire frigidus, efficax medicando capitis stomachique doloribus.
“ Me, Si frigida medetur doloribus capitis et stomachi, posthac et oleum extinguet incendium.AS YEE CAME FROM THE HOLYE.
469
“ Og. Miraculum audis, 6 bone : alioqui quid esset miraculi, si frigida sedaret sitim ?
“ Me. Et ista sane est una pars fabulse.
“ Og. Affirmabant, eum fontem derepente prosiliasse e terra jussu Sanctissimae Virginis. Ego cuncta diligenter circumspiciens rogabam quot essent anni quod ea domuncula fuisset eo depor-tata; dixit aliquot secula. Alioqui parietes, inquam, non pras se ferunt aliquid vetustatis. Non repugnabat. Ne columnae quidem hae ligneae : non negabat esse nuper positas et res ipsa loquebatur. Deinde hsec, inquam, tecti culmea arundineaque materia videtur esse recentior. Assentiebatur. Ac ne trabes quidem hae, inquam, transversae nec ipsa tigna quae culmos sustinent videntur ante mult os annos posita. Annuebat. Atqui cum jam nulla casae pars superesset: Unde igitur constat, inquam, hanc esse casulam illam e longinquo delatam?
“ Me. Obsecro quomodo sese ab hoc nodo expediebat aedituus ?
“ Og. Scilicet incunctanter ille ostendit nobis pervetustam ursi pellem, tignis affixam, ac propemodum irrisit nostram tarditatem, qui ad tarn manifestum argumentum non haberemus oculos. Itaque persuasi, et tarditatis culpam deprecati, vertimus nos ad coeleste lac Beatse Virginis.”
“ Among other superstitions belonging to the place,” says a writer in Chambers’s Booh of Days, “ was one that the Milky Way pointed directly to the home of the Virgin, in order to guide pilgrims on their road; hence it is called the Walsingham Way, which had its counterpart on earth in the broad way which led through Norfolk : at every town that it passed through, a cross was erected pointing out the path to the holy spot; some of these elegant structures still remain.”
The place was in wonderful repute. To it Catherine of Arra-gon, dying, entrusted her soul; and so her sometime husband, when his hour came. In the second volume of the Reliques, Percy gives “a few extracts from the household book of Henry470
AS YEE CAME FROM THE HOLYE.
Algernon Percy, fifth Earl of Northumberland, to shew what constant tribute was paid to our Lady of Walsingham ¡—Item. My lorde usith yerly to send afor Michaelmas for his Lordschip’s Offerynge to our Lady of Walsyngeham, iiijd.” The Paston letters abound in allusions to pilgrimages made to this shrine, pilgrimages made by the Duke of Norfolk in 1459, by Edward IV. and his queen in 1469, by the Duchess of Norfolk in 1471, by the Duke of Buckingham in 1478 (five years before his beheading).
This stream of pilgrims stayed its flowing at last. In August, 1538, the priory was dissolved. The gorgeous image of Our Lady was carried away to Chelsea, and there burnt before the commissioners. The people of Norfolk murmured, and wailed, and rebelled. Their idol was thrown down and burnt with fire ; and their hopes of gain were gone. Not only was their religion affronted, but their purse was spoiled. No wonder if they beat their breasts, and rove their hair, and threw dust and ashes over their heads and in their enemies’ faces !
In the Bodleian Library is preserved the following poem:
In the wrackes of Walsingam Whom should I chuse
But the Queene of Walsingam, to he guide to my muse ?
Then thou Prince of Walsingam, graunt me to frame
Bitter plaintes to rewe thy wronge, hitter wo for thy name.
Bitter was it, oh! to see The seely sheepe
Murdred hy the raueninge wolues While the sheephardes did sleep!
Bitter was it, oh! to vewe the sacred vyne,
Whiles the gardiners plaied all close, rooted vp hy the swine.
Bitter, hitter, oh! to hehould the grass e to growe
Where the walles of Walsingam so statly did sheue.AS YEE CAME FROM THE HOLYE.
471
Such were the worker of Walsingam while shee did stand !
Such are the wrackes as now do shewe of that holy land !
Levell, Levell with the ground the towres doe lye,
[Fol. 266]	Which with their golden glitteringe tops
pearsed once to the skye !
Wher weare gates, no gates ar nowe ; the wraies ynknowen
Wher the presse of peares did passe, while her fame far was blowen.
Oules do scrike wher the sweetest himnes lately weer songe ;
Toades and serpentes hold ther dennes wher the Palmers did thronge.
Weepe, weepe, o Walsingam! whose dayes are nightes,
Blessinge turned to blasphemies, holy deedes to dispites !
. Sinne is wher o^r Ladie sate, heauen turned is to hell !
Sathan sittes wher our Lord did swaye Walsingham, oh ! farewell !
■finis.
‘Earl of Arundel MS.’ among Bawlinson MSS.
“As : yee came ffrom tlie holy Land of walsingham,
mett yon not w^th my true lone 4 by the way as yon came ? ”
“ how shold I know jouy trne lone,1 that hane mett many a one as I came ffrom the holy Land,
8 that hane come, that hane gone P ”
Did you not meet my love, as you came ?
“ Shee is neither white nor browne, bnt as the heanens ffaire ; there is none hathe their2 fforme dinine 12 on the earth or the ayre.”
She is fair as the heavens,
1 The MS. makes the verses of 8 lines.—F.
2 her, Qu.—P.472
AS TEE CAME FROM THE HOLYE.
but has left me here all alone,
because I am old.
Love is
never fast,
“ such a one did I meete, good Srr, w^'th an angellike fface, who like a nimph, like a queene, did appeare 16 in her gate, in her grace.”
“ Shee hath left me heere alone, all alone as vnknowne, who sometime loued me as her liffe 20	& called me her owne.”
“ what is the cause shee hath left thee alone, & a new way doth take, that sometime did loue thee as her selfe,
24	& her ioy did thee make ? ”
“ I haue loued her all my youth, but now am old, as you see. loue liketh not the ffalling ffruite 28 nor the whithered tree ;
for loue is like a carlesse child,
& fforgetts promise past: he is blind, he is deaffe when he list,
32	& infaith neuer hast;
but fickle,
lost with a toy.
“ No, true Love burns ever, turns never.”
“ his desire is ffickle, ffond,
& a trusties ioye ;
he is won w^’th a world of dispayre,
36	& lost w^th a toye.
such is the [fate of all man] 1 kind,
Or the word loue abused,	[page 507]
ynder -which many childish desires 40	& conceipts are excused.”
“ But loue is a durabler ffyer in the mind euer Burninge, euer sicke, neuer dead, neuer cold,
44 ffrom itt selfe neuer turninge.” ffinis.
MS. pared and broken away.—F. ? read [way of woman].—Skeat.473
gioffncud :1
A copy of this piece is to be found in the Collection of Old Ballads, 1726.
The story told in it is that made so well known to us of to-day by Tennyson’s exquisite poem of Godiva.
Few chronicles which deal with the time of Edward the Confessor omit to mention Leofric, Earl of Chester, and afterwards of Mercia, and his wife Grodiva. The HEstoire de Seint ¿Edward le Rei ; Ailred’s Vita Regis Edwardi Confessoris ; Ingulph’s (?)Historia Croylandensis (she was “tunc fceminarum pulcherrima sic corde sanctissima ”), the Mailros Chronicles, Hoveden’s Annales (he says, “ dei cultrix et sanctae Marise semper virginis amatrix devota nobilis comitissa Grodiva ”), all mention her with enthusiasm as a charitable and most pious lady. The earliest account of her famous ride through Coventry which is quoted by Dugdale (see his History of Warwickshire), is given by Brompton, who “ flourished ” about thè close of the twelfth century :
De dicta quoque Godiva Comitissa quas ecclesiam de Stoive sub promontorio Lincolnice, et multas alias construxerat, legitur, quod dum ipsa Coventreiam a gravi servitute et importabili tolneto liberare* affectasset, Leofricum Comitem virum suum sollicitavit, ut sanctse Trinitatis Deique genitricis Marise intuitu, villam a prasdicta solveret servitute. Prohibuit Comes ne de cetero rem sibi dampnosam in ani ter postularet. Ilia nichilominus virum indesinenter de petitione prae-missa exasperans, tale responsum ab eo demum extorsit. Ascende, inquit, equum tuum, et nuda a villas initio usque ad finem populo congregato equites, et sic postulata cum redieris impetrabis. Tunc Godiva Deo dilecta equum nuda ascendens, ac capitis crines et tricas dissolvens, totum corpus praster crura inde velavit. Itinere completo à nemine visa ad virum gaudens est reversa, unde Leofricus Coventreiam a servitute et malis custumis et exactionibus liberavi!, et cartam
1 In the printed Collection of Old Ballads 1726. Yol. 2. p. 34. N. v.—P.474
LEOFFRICUS.
suam inde confectain sigilli sui munimine roboravit, de quo adirne isti panperes mereatores ad villani accedentes plenarie snnt experti.
Matthew of Westminster, some hundred years after the Abbot of Joreval, gives the following version :
Haec autem comitissa religiose villam Conventrensem a gravi servi-tute ac turpi liberare affectans, ssepius comitem virum suum magnis precibus rogavit, ut sanctse Trinitatis, sanctseque genetrieis Dei intuitu, villain a prsedicta absolveret servitute. Cumque conies illam increparet, quod rem sibi damnosam inaniter postularet, prohibuit eonstanter, ne ipsum super hac re de cetero conveniret. Ilia contrario, pertinacia muliebri ducta, virum indesinenter de petitione praemissa exasperans, tale responsum extorsit ab eo. Ascende (inquit) equum tuum nuda, et transi per mercatum villas, ab initio usque ad finem, populo congregato, et cum redieris, quod postulas, impetrabis. Cui comitissa respondens, ait : Et si hoc facere voluero, licentiam mihi dabis? Ad quam comes, Dabo, inquit. Tunc Godyva comitissa, Deo dilecta, die qnadam, ut praedictum est, nuda equum ascendens, crines capitis et tricas dissolvens, corpus suum totum, praeter crura candidissima, inde velavit, et itinere completo, a nemine visa, ad virum gaudens, hoc pro miraculo habitum, reversa est. Comes vero Leofricus, Conventrensem a praefata servitute liberans civitatem, chartam suam inde factam sigilli sui munimine roboravit.
Higden, some half century afterwards, says briefly :
Ad jugem quoque instantiam uxoris suas urbem suam Coventrensem ab omni tolneto praeterquam de equis liberam fecit ; ad quod impe-trandum uxor ejus Comitissa Godyva quodam mane per medium urbis nuda sed comis tecta equitavit.
Knighton adopts Higden’s account word for word.
Bower, the continuer of Fordun’s Scotichronicon, in the first half of the following, the fifteenth century, tells the story of Matilda, wife of Henry II. ; for which act he is severely reproved by his and Fordun’s editor, Hearne (1722). The only other noticeable variation in his account is, we think, particularly coarse. He says the poor lady performed her ride “rege et populo spectantibus.”LEOFFRICtTS.
475
In our own age the story has been gracefully and refinedly told by Leigh Hunt, and in an incomparable manner by Tennyson.
There is then, extant, no narrative of the gentle Grodiva’s most generous feat till upwards of two centuries after its alleged performance.
We. find, indeed, in the reign of Henry I. that the good Queen Maude, “ that’s right well loved England through ” (Hardy ng), who did so many good services for the people, and taught her Norman husband a milder policy than his own nature prompted, received the sobriquet of Godiva. She, too, loved the people well, and so was called after the Saxon countess who bad so signally testified her affection for them. This is the earliest reference to the story.
LeOFFRICUS the 1 noble Erie
Leoffricus Earl of Chester
of ehester, as I read, did ffor the eittye of conentrye
4 many a noble deede ;
great priniledges for the towne
made the city of Coventry
this noble-man did gett,
of all things did make itt soe,
8 that they tole ffree did sitt,
toll-free,
saue onlye that for horsses still
except a horse-tax.
they did some custome paie, which was great charges to the towne
12 fluii long & many a day.
wherfore his wiffe, Godiua 2 ffaire,
This his wife G-odiva asked him to take off;
did of the Erie request that therfore 3 he wold make itt ffree
16 as well as all the rest.
1	that.—O.B. The first two lines are written as one in the MS.—F.
2 Grodina.—O.B.	3 thereof.—O.B.476
LEOFFRICÜS.
and finding him one day-in a good humour,
entreated him to remit the tax.
“ What’ll you do if I will?:
& when the Lady long 1 had sued, her purpose to obtaine, att last her noble hord 2 shee tooke 20 within 3 a pleasant vaine,
& ynto him with smiling cheere shee did fforthwith proeeede, infcreating greatly that hee wold 24 perforate that godlye 4 deede.
“ you moue me much, ffaire dame/’5 quoth hee, “ your suite I ffaine wold shunn; but what wold 6 you perforate & doe,
28 to haue the 7 matter done P ”
“ Anything in reason/’ she says.
“why, any thing, my Lore?,” q^oth shee, “ you will w7th reason crane,
I will performe itt w7th good will 32 if I my wish may 8 haue.”
“ Well, if you’ll do what I ask you. I’ll take off the tax.”
“ if thou wilt grant one 9 thing,” he said, “ w7z/?ch I shall now require ; soe 10 soone as itt is ffinished,
36 thou shalt haue thy desire.”
“ I’ll do it/ she says.
“ command what you thinke good, my Lore?;
I will ther-to agree on that condityon, that this 11 towne 40 in all things 12 may bee ffree.”
“ Then strip,
and ride naked
through the town.”
“ if thou wilt stripp thy clothes 13 off, & heere wilt14 lay them downe,
& att noone-daye 15 on horsbacke ryde, 44 starke naked through the towne,
1	So when that she long Time.—O.B.
2	Her Noble Lord at length.—O.B.
3	When in.—O.B.
4	goodly.—O.B.
6 will.1—O.B.
might.—O.B.
9 the.—O.B.	10 as.—O.B.
11 the.—O.B.	12 For ever.—O.B.
13	but thy Cloaths.—O.B.
14	by me.—O.B.
15	The MS. has a tag like s to the e.—F. Noon-day.—O.B.
5 my Fair.—O.B. 7 this.—O.B.LEOFFRICUS.
477
“ they shalbe free for euermore.
if thou, wilt not doe soe, more lyberty then now they haue 48 I nener will bestowe.”
the Lady att this strange demand was much abashet in minde ;
& yett ffor to fulfill this thing 52 shee neuer a whitt repinde.
The
Countess is taken aback, but does not hesitate,
wherfore to all the 1 officers
of all the towne 2 shee sent,	and tells the
. .	town-
that they, perceiumg her good will,	officials
56 which for their 3 weale was bent,
that on the day that shee shold ryde, all persons through the towne shold keepe their houses, & shutt their dore,4 60	& clap their windowes downe,
soe that no creature, younge nor 5 old,6 shold in the streete 7 bee seene
to order that when she rides through, all houses, doors, and windows shall be shut,
so that no one may see her.
till shee had ridden [all about] 8 64 Through all the Cittye cleane.	[page 508]
And when the day of ryding came,	she rides.
no person did her see,	The town is*
sauing her lord . after which time 68 the towne was euer ffree. fiinis.
unto all.—O.B.
Of Coventry.—O.B. the.—O.B.
and Doors.—O.B.	5 or.—O.B.
6	There is a tag at the end like an s in the MS.—F.
7	Streets.—O.B.
8	all about, Throughout.—O.B.
[“ A Maycten-heade ” and “ Tom Longe,” printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 111-13, follow here in the MS. p. 508.] *478
froute tofrm tije
This ballad first occurs in the Garland of Good Will.
A more complete copy than that of the Folio is to be found in the Collection of Old Ballads, so often referred to in our Introductions ; but it too is miserably mutilated.
It is evidently the work of a later writer, of one who wrote generations after the memory of Queen Isabella’s profligacy in the subsequent years of her life was keenly remembered. Its sympathy with the Queen’s side is vehement; and may possibly have sprung from the fact that a Queen was sitting on the throne when it was written.
It would seem not to have been founded on current traditions; bat to be the result of some historical research. The details are, for the most part, accurate to a degree most unusual in ballad-poetry. In other respects it can boast no great superiority over other historical ballads—a department of literature by no means pre-eminent for its poetic worth. It tells its tale in a business-like way.
It tells it, as we have said, with surprising accuracy; but there is when it errs. The Queen departed for France nominally on a diplomatic mission—to smooth down certain differences with regard to Gascony which were dividing her brother Charles IV. of France and her husband; she did not make her escape from the country with the aid of any such pretext as that preferred in the text. The letters written by the deserted Edward both to her and to his son who was with her, urging their return, are still extant (see Fcedera). The Pope persuaded Charles to dismiss his sister from his court. Then she found refuge at the
1 In the printed Collection of old Ballads 1726. Vol. 2. p. 59. N? x.—P.PROÜDE WHERE THE SPENCERS.
479
court of William Count of Hainault, to whose daughter Philippa the Prince her son was there betrothed. This Count placed at her service a force of 2,000 men under the command of John of Hainault (see vv. 40-62).
On September 24, 1326, those whose return Edward II. had so earnestly urged, landed at Orwell in Suffolk, armed. The nobles, who some five years before had been overthrown with Lancaster, now flocked from their hiding-places and their places of exile to »support this frightful insurrection of wife and son. The King’s brothers, his cousins, and many bishops, hastened to support it. London murdered the King’s lieutenant, and supported it. The elder Despenser was seized at Bristol, the burghers there turning against him, and there executed as a traitor. His son was seized in Wales, carried to Hereford, and executed as a traitor there. The Earl of Arundel and others were beheaded. (See Knight’s Popular History of England,)
The ballad alludes but briefly to the end of the tragedy:
Then was King deposed of his Crown ;
Prom rule and princely dignity the Lords did cast him down.
Written in admiration of Isabella, it, naturally enough, shrinks from any allusion to the atrocities perpetrated in Berkeley Castle —to the “ shrieks of death ” that rang through its roof—
Shrieks of an agonizing King!
Proud: were the Spencers, & of condityons 1 ill;
all England & the King they ruled likwise 2 * * * & att their will;
The
Spencers were an ill-conditioned lot,
1	Condition, in Old Ballads, 3r.d ed., ii. 62.—E.
2	likewise They ruled.—O.B. Each couple of lines 2 and 3, 5 and 6, 19 and
20, is written as one in the MS.—E.
The true arrangement is :
Proud were the Spencers,
& of condityons ill;
all England & the King they ruled likwise att their will;
& many Lords
& nobles of this Land through their occasion lost their liues, & none durst them withstand.
The first line very short; only two accents at most; the second, third, and fourth lines with three accents.—Skeat.480
PROTIDE WHERE THE SPENCERS.
and the cause of many nobles’ deaths.
4	& many Lords & nobles of tbis 1 Land
through their oecassion 2 lost their lines, and none dnrst them [withstand.] 3
They raised strife between King
Edward and his Queen,
so that she was forced
& att the last they did increase great 4 greeffe 8 betweene the [King and Isabel] 5
his queene and ffaithfull wiffe,	[page 509]
soe that her liffe shee dreaded wonderons sore,
& cast w^th[in] 6 heer present thoughts 12 some present helpe therfore.
then shee requested,7 w^th countenance graue & sage,
that shee to Thomas Beccetts tombe might goe on pilgramage.
16 then being ioyfull to haue that 8 happy chance, her sonne & shee tooke shipp wtth speede, intolerance.	& sayled into ffrance ;
The French King, her brother, received her well,
& royally shee was receiued then 20 by the 'King & all the rest of the peeres & noblemen ;
and ynto him att lenght 9 shee did expresse the cause of her arriuall there,
24 her greeffe 10 & heauinesse.
gave her leave to raise men, and
promised her
money.
when as her brother her greefe did vnderstand, he gaue her leaue to gather men out of 11 his ffamous land,
28	& made his 12 promise to aide her euormore
as offt as shee shold stand in Neede 13 of gold & siluer store.
1	the.—O.B.
2	Occasions.—O.B.
3	did them withstand.—O.B.
4	much.—O.B.
5	MS. pared away. Supplied from Old Ballads.—F.
6 within.—O.B.	7 requests.—O.B.
8	the.—O.B.
9	last.—O.B.
10	care.—O.B.
11	Throughout.—O.B.
12	a.—O.B.
13	N written oyer st in the MS.—F. need.—O.B.PROUDE WHERE THE SPENCERS.
481
but when indeed be sbold perforate 1 tbe same, 32 be was as ffarr ffrom doing itt
But he afterwards broke liis word,
as wben sbee tbitber came,
& did proclaime,2 while matters yett were greene,3
and refused to let men enlist for her.
that none on paine of death sbold goe 36 to aide the English queene.
this alteration did greatly greeue tbe Queene,
This grieved her greatly,
that downe along her comely fface they 4 bitter teares were seene.
40 wben sbee perciued her ffreinds forsooke her soe, sbee knew not, ffor her saftey, which way to turne or goe;
but through good happ, att last sbee tbenn decreede and she took
refugG in.
44 to seeke in ifruitfull GrERMANYE	Germany,
some succour in 5 this neede ;
48 W'itb great solempnitye ;
& wttb great sorrow to him sbee then complained of all tbe greefe 7 & iniuryes which sbee of late sustained,
52 soe that wttb weeping sbee dimnd her princly sight.
tbe sunn 8 therof did greatly greefe that noble curteous knight,
who made an otbe be wold her cbampyon bee,	SWore to be
56	& in ber.quarrell spend bis bloode,	champion,
from wrong to sett her ffree;	her,Sght f°l
1 she did require.—O.B.	6 Hainault.—O.B.
2 MS. proclaine.—F.	7 her Griefs.—O.B.
8 whilst matters were so.—O.B.	» ]^g# sunn or gmm . p for summ> or
4 The.—O.B.	E. E. sicnne, sin.—F. sunne not to he
5 to.—O.B.	thought of.—Dyce. cause.—O.B.
And to Siir Iobn Henault 6 then went sbee, who entertained this wofull queene
where Sir
John
Henault
I I
YOL. III.482
PROHDE WHERE THE SPENCERS.
with all his friends.
“ & all my freinds with whom. I may preuaile, shall helpe for to aduance jour state,
60 whose truth no time shall faile.”
He proves faithful; sails with many lords,
and lands with her at Harwich.
And in this promise, most faithfull he was found, & many LorcZs of great account was in this voyage hound.
64 soe setting fforward 'with a goodlye traine, att lenght through gods especiall grace into England they came.
Many	Att Harwich then when they were come a-shore,1
English	J	7
lords join	68 0f English Lords & Barrons bold
there came to her great store,
which did reioce the queenes afflicted hart, that English nobles 2 in such sort 72 did come 3 to take her part.
Edward ii.	when as YLmg Edward herof did vnderstand,
hears of this,
how that the queene with such a power was entered on his Land,
76	& how his nobles were gone to take her part,
and flies,	he filed from London presentlye ;
then4 * with a heauye hart,
with the Spencers, to Bristol,
leaving the Bishop of Exeter in London,
And with the Spencers, did vnto Bristowe 5 goe,
80 [To fortify that gallant town,] 6
Greatt cost he did best[owe ;]	[pagesio]
leauing behind, to gouerne London towne,7
[The stout Bishop of Exeter,
84 Whose Pride was soon pull’d down.
1	were ashore.—O.B.
2	Lords.—;O.B.
3	Came for.—O.B.
4	Even.—O.B.
* Unto Bristol did.—O.B.
6 MS. pared away. Line supplied
from O.B.—F.
7 (N.B. There are upwards of 22 stanzas wanting: which are all in the Printed Copy.)—P. and are here printed, with the leads out, from the 2nd edition of Old Ballads, 1726, vol. ii. p. 62. About half a page in the MS. is left blank.—F.PEOUDE WHEEE THE SPENCEBS.
483
[The Mayor of London, with Citizens great Store, The Bishop and the Spencers both In Heart they did abhor ;
88 Therefore they took him without Fear or Dread, And at the Standard in Gheapside They soon smote off his Head.
[Unto the Qneen this Message then they sent,
92 The City of London was
At her Commandement:
Wherefore the Queen, with all her Company,
Did strait to Bristol march amain,
96	Wherein the King did lie :
[Then she besieg’d the City round about, Threatning sharp and cruel Death,
To those that were so stout;
ICO Wherefore the Townsmen, their Children, and their Wives,
Did yield the City to the Queen For Safe-guard of their Lives :
[Where was took, the Story plain doth tell,
104 Sir Hugh Spencer, and with him The Earl of Anmdel.
This Judgment just the Nobles did set down,
They should be drawn and hanged both,
108	In Sight of Bristol Town.
[Then was King Edward in the Castle there,
And Hugh Spencer still with him,
In Dread and deadly Fear;
112 And being prepar’d from thence to Sail away,
The Winds were found contrary,
They were enforc’d to stay :
[But at last Sir John Beaumont, Knight,
116 Did bring his sailing Ship to Shore,
And so did stay their Flight :
And so these Men were taken speedily,
And brought as Prisoners to the Queen,
120 Which did in Bristol lie.
[The Queen, by Counsel of the Lords and Barons bold, To Barkley sent the King,
There to be kept in hold :
11 2
where the
citizens
soon
cut his head off,
and tell Isabella the city is hers.
She marches to Bristol,
besieges it,
and it is yielded up to her.
Sir H. Spencer and Lord Arundel are taken,
the King and Spencer
being caught as they were escaping by ship.
The Queen imprisons the King484
PROUDE WHERE THE SPENCERS.
and has Spencer carried from town to town on a
jade’s back,
men playing before him.
Then at Hereford
Spencer is hanged and quartered,
King
Edward is deposed,
and his son
crowned
King.
124 And young Hugh Spencer, tliat did mucli 111 procure, Was to the Marshal of the Host Sent unto keeping sure.
[And then the Queen to Hereford took her way,
128 With all her warlike Company,
Which late in Bristol lay :
And here behold how Spencer was From Town to Town, even as the Queen 132	To Hereford did pass ;
[Upon a Jade, which they by chance had found, Young Spencer mounted was,
With Legs and Hands fast bound :
136 A Writing-Paper along as he did go,
Upon his Head he had to wear,
Which did his Treason show:
[And to deride this Traytor lewd and ill,
140 Certain Men with Reeden-Pipes Hid blow before him still.
Thus was he led along in every Place,
While many People did rejoice 144	To see his strange Disgrace.
[When unto Hereford our Uoble Queen was come, ' She did assemble all the Lords
And Knights, both all and some;
148 And in their Presence young Spencer Judgment had, To be both hang’d and quartered,
His Treasons were so bad.
152
156
[Then was the King deposed of his Crown; From Rule, and princely Dignity,
The Lords did cast him down :
And in his Life, his Son both wise and sage, Was crowned King of fair England,
At Fifteen Years of Age.j ifin[is.]485
This rhyming ^ version of a good old Saxon tale occurs in the Garland of Good Will, “ to the tune of Labandulishot,” in the Collection of Old Ballads, in Evans’s Old Ballads.
The authority followed by the writer of it is William of Malmesbury.
There was in his time (says that chronicler) one Athelwold, a nobleman of celebrity, and one of his confidants; him the king had commissioned to visit Elfrida, daughter of Orgar, Duke of Devonshire (whose charms had so fascinated the eyes of some persons that they commended her to the king), and to offer her marriage if her beauty were really equal to report.
Hastening on his embassy, and finding everything consonant to general estimation, he concealed his mission from her parents, and procured the damsel for himself. Returning to the king, he told a tale that made for his own purpose, that she was a girl of vulgar and commonplace appearance, and by no means worthy of such a transcendent dignity. When Edgar’s heart was disengaged from this affair, and employed on other amours, some tattlers acquainted him how completely Athelwold had duped him by his artifices. Driving out one nail with another, that is, returning him deceit for deceit, he showed the earl a fair countenance, and, as in a sportive manner, appointed a day when he would visit this far-famed lady. Terrified almost to death with this dreadful pleasantry, he hastened before to his wife, entreating that she would administer to his safety by attiring herself as unbecomingly as possible; then first disclosing the intention of such a proceeding. But what did not this woman dare P She was hardy enough to deceive the confidence of her miserable lover, her first husband, to adorn herself at the mirror, and omit nothing that could stimulate the desire of a young and powerful man. "Nor did events happen contrary to her design; for he fell so desperately in love with her the moment he saw her, that, dissembling his indignation, he sent for the earl into a wood at Warewelle, under
1 In the printed Collection 1726, Vol. 2, p. 25, N. iv.—P.486
KINGE EDGAR.
pretence of hunting, and ran him through with a javelin. When the illegitimate son of the murdered nobleman approached with his accustomed familiarity, and was asked by the king how he liked that kind of sport, he is reported to have said, “Well, my sovereign liege, I ought not to be displeased with that which gives you pleasure,” with which answer he so assuaged the mind of the reigning monarch, that for the remainder of his life he held no one in greater estimation than this young man; mitigating the tyrannical deed against the father by royal solicitude for the son. In expiation of this crime, a monastery, which was built on the spot by Elfrida, is inhabited by a large congregation of nuns.—Stevenson’s Church Historians of Hnglcmd.
Another account is given by Brompton. He narrates how Athelwold, after securing, by his deception, the hand of Alfrida, as he calls her, persuaded the king to stand godfather to their first-born son, 66 de sacro forte levare,” in order that—a spiritual affinity (iC spiritualis cognatio”) contracted thus between his wife and Edgar—he might be secure from his majesty’s amorousness. But the king made but little of this restraining tie. He speedily put Athelwold out of the way, sending him to oppose the Danes in the North, and perhaps getting him killed on his way to his post—at all events he was killed on the way—and took Alfrida to his arms. In vain Dunstan, who seems to have been extremely free of the palace, entering the royal chamber the morning after the espousals, asked the king, “ qusenam ilia esset quae secum in lecto jacebat,” and chafed at the answer “ regina.” Edgar married Alfrida.
The story is told in the following ballad with some skill, but in a somewhat prosy manner.
The form adopted is the favourite one of the old romances (revived by Scott in the Lay of the Last Minstrel); and the besetting blemish of the piece—prolixity—is also an imitation of the old romances.
The sympathy of the account is all on the king’s side.
Thus he which did the king deceive Did by deceit this death receive,KINGrE EDGAR.
487
says the loyal poet, after describing Athelwold’s assassination» “Be true and faithful to your friend” is the moral. And when“ that friend is a king, why, expect the extremest penalties, if you are false.
When as King Edgar did goueme this land,1 & in the strenght of his yeeres did 2 stand, such praise was spread of a gallant dame 4 which did through England carry great fame,
& shee a Ladaye of noble 3 degree, the Erie of denonshires daughter was shee. the Kmg, which had latetly 4 buryed the queene, 8	& a long 5 6 time a wydower had 6 beene,
hearing the praise of this 7 gallant maid, vpon her bewtye his loue hee laid ;
& in his sighes 8 he wold often say,
12 “I will goe 9 send for that Lady gay ; yea, I will send for that10 Lady bright which is my treasure and delight, whose bewty, like to Phebus beames,
16 did11 glister 12 through all Christen realmes.” then to himselfe he wold replye, saing, “ how fond a prince 13 am I, to cast my loue soe base and Lowe,
20	& on 14 a girle I doe not know !
'King Edgar will his fancy frame to loue 15 some peereles princely dame,
The widowed King Edgar
hears of a
gallant
dame,
the Earl of
Devonshire’s
daughter,
and sets his love on her. He often says that he’ll
send and fetch her,
but then thinks how stupid he is to fall in love with a low-born girl he has never seen. He’ll find and love some Princess,
1	O.B. adds:
Adown, adown, down, down down\ and after line 2,
Call him down a,—F.
2	he did.—O.B.
3	high.—O.B.
4	who lately had.—O.B.
5	not a long. Printed C.—P. not long.—O.B.
6	O.B. omits had.—F.
7	this Praise of a.—O.B,
8	mind. Printed C.—P.
9	O.B. omits goe.—F.
10	this.—O.B.
11	doth. Pr? Copy.—P.
12	Both glitter.—O.B.
13	The MS. has only one stroke for the n.—F.
14	Upon.—O.B.
15	have.—O.B.KIN GTE EDGrÀE.
488
with a good dowry, who is more beautiful than Estrild. Then he thinks again, how wrong it is
to abase his
love
Estrild,
who is more lovely than Helen.
So he decides on Estrild,
and sends off a knight, Ethel wold,
to her father’s, to look at her,
and if he finds her beautiful,
then he’s to propose to her, for Edgar.
the daughter of some 1 royall Kmg,
24 that may a worthy 2 dowry bringe,3
whose macheles bewty brought in place may Estrilds coulor cleane disgrace, but senceless man, what doe I meane,
28 ypon a broken reede to leane ?
& what fond fury doth 4 me moue
thus to abuse my deerest loue,
whose visage, gracet with heauenlye hue,
32 doth Hellens honor quite subdue P the glory of her bewtyous pride [Sweet Estrild’s Eayour doth deride] 5 Then pardon m[y unsejemely speech,6 [pagesii] 36 deere loue & lady, I beseech !
& 7 I my thoughts hencforth will8 frame to spread the honore of thy name.” then ynto him he called a "knight 40 which was most trusty in his sight,
& ynto him thus did he 9 say :
“ to Erie Orgarus 10 goe thy way,
& 11 aske for Estrilds 12 comely dame,
44 • whose b[e]wty is soe for by 13 fame ;
& if thou14 find her comlye grace as fame hath 15 spread in euery place, then tell her father shee shalbe 48 my crowned queene, if shee agree.”
1	a.—O.B.
2	dainty.—O.B.
3	Betere were a ryche mon For te spouse a god womon
Tliath hue be sum del pore,
Then to brynge into his hous a proud quene ant daungerous,
That is sum del hore.
“Moni mon for londe wyveth to shonde.”
Quoth Hendyng.
Rcliquice Antiques i. 115.—F.
4	or what did, Pr* C.—P. & O.B.
5	O.B. MS. pared away.—F. sweet
Estrild’s favour doth deride.—P. For the original Estrild, see p. 466-7 above. —F.
6	Then pardon my unseemly speech, Printed Copy.—P.
7	For.—O.B.
8	will henceforth.—O.B.
9	he did.—O.B.
10	Orgator, Printed Copy.—P.
11	Where.—O.B.
12	Estrild.—O.B.
13	went so far for.—O.B.
11 you.—O.B.	;
15 did.—O.B.KINGE EDGAR,
489
the \night in message did proceede,
& into denonshire went1 with speede ; hut when he saw that 2 Ladye bright,
52 he was soo ranisht att her sight, that nothing cold his passyon none except he might obtaine her lone.
& 3 day & night there while 4 he stayde, 56 he conrted still that5 peereles mayd ;
& in his snite hee showed snch skill, that att the lenght woon 6 her good will, fforgetting qnite the dnty tho 60 which hee ynto the kinge did owe. then coming home ynto his grace, he told him w^th dissembling face that those reporters were to blame 64 that soe adnanced that7 maidens name ; “ for I assnre jour grace,” qjioth 8 hee,
, “ shee is as other women bee ; her bewtye of snch great report,
68 no better then they 9 common sort,
& far vnmeet in enery thing to mach w^fch snch a noble Kinge. bnt thongh her face be nothing ffaire,
72 yett sith shee is her ffathers heyre, perhapps some Lore? of hye degree wold verry glad10 her hnsband bee ;
& 11 if jour grace wold gine consent,
76 I cold 12 my selfe be well content the damsell for my wife to take, for her great Lands & linings sake.” the 'King, whom thns he did deceine,
80 incontinent did gine him leane ;
The knight goes,
and is so ravished with Estrild,
that he courts her for himself,
and wins her heart.
Then he goes back to Edgar, and tells him
that Estrild
is nothing particular,
one of the
common
sort,
quite unfit for a King;
but as she’ll have her father’s lands,
he, Ethel-wold, would like to have her himself, for her lands.
Edgar
consents.
O.B. omits went.—F. the.—O.B.
For.—O.B.
while there.—O.B.
this.—O.B.	6 he gain’d.—O.B.
7	the.—O.B.
8	said.—O.B.
9	the.—O.B.
10	fain.—O.B.
11	Then.—O.B. 12 would,- O.B.490
KINGE EDGAR
The luiiglit
marries
Estrild,
and is made an Earl. Then the report of her beauty reaches Edgar,
who sees how he’s been
cheated out of his love,
but puts a good face on it.
One day though
he asks Etlielwold how he’d receive him .if he paid him a visit. Ethelwold, sad at heart, says,
“ You’d be most
welcome.”
Before the King comes,
for on that poynt lie did not stand, for why, he had no1 need of land, then being glad, he went his way,2 84	& weded straight that3 Lady gay;
the ifairest creature bearing liffe, had this ffalse 'knight to 4 his wiife ;
& by that maeh of high degree,
88 an Erie soone after that was hee.
ere hee long time had marryed beene,
many 5 had her bewtye seene ;
her praise was spread both farr & neere,
92 soe that they Kmg 6 therof did heare, who then in hart did plainly prone he was betrayed of his lone, thongh therof 7 he was vexed sore,
96 yett seemed he not to greene therfore, bnt kept his conntenance good & kind, as thongh hee bore no grndg in minde. bnt on a day itt came to passe loo when as the 'King full merry was, to Ethelwold in sport hee said “ I mnse what cheere there shold be made if to thy honse I wold 8 resort 104 a night or 2 for princely sport.’’
heratt the Erie shewed contenance glad,9 thongh in his hart he was [full sad ;] 10 And said,11 “ jour grace s[hall welcome be]12 [page 512] 108 if soe yo^r grace will honor mee.” when13 as the day apointed was, before the 'King, shold 14 thither passe,
1	not.—O.B.
2	away.—O.B.
3	this.—O.B.
4	unto.—O.B.
f That many.—O.B.
6	The King again.
7	therefore.—O B.
8	should.—O.B.
9	One stroke too many in the MS.—F.
10	full sad.—O.B.
11	Saying.—O.B.
12	shall welcome he.—O.B.
13	Then.—O.B.
11 did.KIN GE EDGAR.
491
the Erie before-band did prepare 112 the Kings 1 coming to declare,
& with a countenance passing grim he called his Lady vnto him, saing w^'th sad & heanye cheere :
116	“ I pray yon, when the King comes heere,
sweet Lady, as yon tender mee, lett yo^r attire bnt homelye bee ;
& washe not thon thy Angells face,
120 bnt doe 2 thy bewtye qnite 3 disgrace ; therto thy gestnre soe apply, itt may seeme lothsome to his 4 eye ; for if the King shold heere 5 behold 124 thy gloiroons bewtye soe extold,
then shold 6 my liffe soone shortened bee ffor my desartt7 & trecherye. when to thy ffather ffirst I came,
128 thongh I did not declare the same, yett was I pnt in trnst to bring the ioyfnll tydings of the Kinge, who for thy glonryons bewtye seene,
132 did thinke of thee to make his qneene. bnt when I had thy person fonnd, thy bewty gane me snch a wonnd, no rest nor comfort cold I take 136 till your 8 sweet lone my greffe did slake ; & thns,9 thongh dnty charged me most ffaithfnll to my LorcZ to bee, yett lone vpon the other side 140 bade 10 for my selfe I shold pronide. then for my snte & service knowne,11 att lenthgfc I woon yon for my owne;
Etlielwold
prays his wife,
when Edgar does come, to dress badly, not wash her face,
and behave disgustingly ;
for if the King sees her beauty, he’ll kill her husband.
Ethelwold then tells his wife of his
treachery to Edgar: how, sent to woo her for the King,
he fell in love with her himself,
and wooed and won her.
1	King his.
2	so.-^-O.B.
3	clean.—O.B.
4	the.—O.B.
5	there.—O.B.
7	Deserts.—O.B.
8	you.—O.B.
9	that.—O.B.
10	Bid.—O.B.
11	shown.—O.B.
6 shall.—O.B.492
KIN GE EDGAR.
But for their
wedlock’s
sake
he prays her to disguise herself.
She answers smilingly;
but, as it would be a shame to mar God’s work, she dresses herself out as bravely as possible,
.and does all she can to please the King.
He falls madly in love with her;
she gives him ten sweet looks for one ;•
and next hunting-day
he kills her husband,
& for your lone & 1 wedlocke spent,
144 your choice yon need no whitt repent.
& sith2 my greeffe I liane exprest, sweet Lady, grant me my reqnest.” good words shee gane w^'th smiling cheere ; 148 mnsing att3 that which shee did heeare ;
& casting many things in mind,
great fanlt herwith 4 shee seemed to find ;
& 5 in her-selfe shee thonght itt shame 152 to make that ffonle which god did firame. most costly robes & 6 rich, therfore, in branest sort thai day shee wore,
& did all things 7 that ere shee might 156 to sett her bewtye forth to sight,
& her best skill in enery thing shee shewed, to entertaine the 'King,
* wherby8 the King soe snared was,
160 that reason qnite firom him did passe ; his hart by her was sett on ffire, he had to her a great desire ;
& for the lookes he gake her then,
164 for enery looke shee gane him ten; wherfor the King perceiued plaine his lone & lookes were not in vaine. vpon a time 9 itt chanced soe,
168 the King hee wold a hnnting goe,
& into Hons wood did he ryde,10 the Erie on horssbake by his side.
& there 11 the story telleth plaine,
172 that with a shaft the Erie was slaine.
& when that12 hee had lost his liffe, he 13 tooke the Lady to his 14 wifie ;
1	my Love in.—O.B.
2	Then since.—O.B.
3	of.—O.B.	4 therewith.—O.B.
5 But.—O.B.	6 full,—O.B.
7	Doing all.—O.B.
8	Wherefore.—O.B. 9 MS. tine.—F.
10	And as they through a Wood did ride.—O.B.
11	For so.—O.B.
12	So that when.—O.B.
13	King Edgar.—F.
14	unto.—O.B.KINÖE EDGAR.
493
he marryed her, all shame 1 to shunn,
176 by whom he had begott2 a sonne.
thus hee which 3 did the Kmg deceiue, did by desart this 4 death receiue. then, to conclude & make an ende,
180 be true & ffaithffull to yo^r 5 ffreind ! ffinis.
marries her,
and begets a son on her. So the deceiver lost his life.
Moral:
Be true to ; your friend.
1 Who marry’d her, all Harm.—O.B.	3 that.—O.B.	5 thy.—O.B. '
2 did heget.—O.B.	4 his.—O.B.494
Cfirisitop[f)]er »tie;
We know of no other copy of this ballad.
A wealthy merchant—a burgess of four towns, one of them Edinburgh—makes love to the sweetheart of Christopher White, during Christopher’s banishment. She hesitates; she has found Christopher White good company; she warns the man of business that, if she is false to her old love, she cannot be true to him. But he still urges his suit, and at last—
The Lady she took * his ’ gold in her hand,
The tears they fell fast from her eyes ;
Says, * Silver & gold makes my heart to turn,
And makes me leave good company.’
The honey-moon, and two or three other moons over, “the merchants are ordered to sea” to serve against Spain (see vv. 40, 68). Such an employment of mercantile-navy was not unfrequent in the later middle ages, and if discontinued, may not have been forgotten at the time this ballad was written (see Pictures of English Life, Chaucer, p. 233). Or possibly “ that all the merchants must to the sea ” may mean only that the convoy was ready to accompany them, and they must at once put themselves under its protection. In any case, whether by his own business, or that of the State, the merchant was called away from his bride. When he returns, he finds her gone off to England with the companionable Christopher (who has managed to get pardoned) and his own spoons and plate and silver and gold. The excellent man protests he cares nothing for the missing goods and chattels; but for his “ likesome lady ” he mourns; yet confesses ingenuously that she warned him when he wooed her, that—
If he were false to Christopher White,
She would never he true to me.CHRISTOPHER WHITE.
495
so aptly follows the moral:
All young women, a warning take,
A warning, look, you take by me; Look that you love your old loves best, Lor in faith they are best company.
As I walked fforth one morni[n]ge	[page 513]
by one place that pleased mee, wherin I heard a wandering wight,
sais, “ Christopher white is good company e.”
I drew me neere, & very neere,
till I was as neere as neere cold bee; loth I was her conncell to discreeme,1 because I wanted companye.
I overheard a girl mourning for Christopher White.
I drew close to her,
“ Say on, say on, thou well faire mayd, why makest thou 2 moane soe heauilye ? ” sais, “ all is ffor one wandering wight, is banished ffortli of his owne countrye.”
and she said that White was
banished.
“ I am the burgesse of Edenburrow, soe am I more of townes 3,
I haue money & gold great store,
come, sweet wench, & ligg thy loue on mee.”
the merchant pulled forth a bagg of gold which had hundreds 2 or three, sais, “ euery day throughout the weeke lie count3 as much downe on thy knee.”
An Edinburgh
burgess tells her he has plenty of money ; will she love him ? He offers her gold,
and 200/. or 300/. a week.
“ 0 Merchant, take thy gold againe, a good liuing twill purchase thee ; if I be ffalse to Christopher white,
Merchant, I cannott be true to thee.”
She answers
that if she’s false to White, she can’t be true to him.
? discreeue.—F.
2 MS. thorn.—F.
MS. comt.—F.496
CHRISTOPHER WHITE.
He tells her what wealth he has,
and offers to marry her next day.
The girl takes his money, and agrees to have him.
But soon after their marriage,
all the merchants have to go to sea.
On this, the wife sends a love letter, and 100Z., to Christopher,
and bids him come to her.
sais, 441 liane halls, soe haue I bowers,” sais, “ I haue shipps say ling on the sea ;
I ame the burgess of Edenburrowe ;
28 come, sweete wench, ligge thy loue on mee.
“ Come on, come, thou well faire mayde !
of our matters lett vs goe throughe, for to-morrowe lie marry thee,
32	& thy dwelling shalbe in Edenburrough.”
The Lady shee tooke this gold in her hand, the teares thé ffell ffast from her eyes1 ; sais, “ siluer & gold makes my hart to turne, 36	& makes me leaue good companye.”
They had not beene marryed not ouer monthes 2 or 3, but tydings came to Edenburrowe 40 that all the merchants must to the sea.
Then as this Lady sate in a deske, shee made a loue letter ffull round ; she mad a lettre to Christopher white,
44	& in itt shee put a lOOf
She lind the letter W'ddi gold soe red,
& mony good store in itt was found, shee sent itt to Christopher white 48 that was soe ffar in the Scotts ground.
Shee bade him then ffrankely spend,
& looke that hee shold merry bee,
& bid him come to Edenburrowe 52 now all the merchants be to the sea.
eye—P,CHRISTOPHER WHITE.
497
But Christopher came to leeue London,	He goes
& there he kneeled lowly downe,	London,
& there hee begd his pardon then,	and gets the
56 of our noble 'King that ware the crowne.	pardon.
But when he came to his true loues house,	Then he
w^’ch was made both of lime and stone,	old love,
shee tooke him by the lilly white hand,
60 sais, “ true loue, you 1 are welcome home !
“ welcome, my honey! welcome, my ioy !	She
7 J	J	i j j	welcomes
welcome, my true loue, home to mee !	^
. ffor tholi art hee that will leng[t]hen my dayes,
64	& I know thou art good companye.
“ Christopher, I am a merchants wiffe;
christopher, the more shall be jour game ;
siluer & gold you shall haue enough,	promises
him as mil
68 of the merchants gold that is in Spaine.”	gold as
he wants,
“ But if you be a Merchants wiffe, something to much you are to blame ;
I will, thee reade a loue letter 2 72 shall stu[r]e thy stumpes, thou noble dame.”
“ Althoug I be a mar chants wiffe, . .	. shall
•	& g........................
76 into England lie goe w^th the.”
3 mine
[page 514]
and declares that she’ll elope with him.
They packet vp both siluer & p[late,] siluer & gold soe great plentye ;
& they be gon into litle England,
80	& the marchant must them neuer see.
So they pack up all the merchant’s money, and are off to England.
1 MS. yo*—F.	of p. 513 ; and the writing has perished,
2 MS. lertcr.—F.	and part of the paper is broken away at
3	The MS. is pared away at the bottom the top of p. 514.—F.
VOL. III.
K K498
CHRISTOPHER WHITE.
When the merchant comes back from sea, his neighbours tell him how his wife
has run away with White.
“ Well,” says the merchant,
“ I don’t grieve for my gold, though I do for my wife:
but she gave me fair notice, so I mustn’t grumble.”
Moral : Young women, love your old loves best!
And when the merchants they came home, their wines to eche other can say,
“heere hath beene good Christopher white,
84	& he hath tane thy wiffe away ;
“ They hane packett vp spoone & plate, silner & gold great plenty,
& they be gon into litle England,
88	& them againe thow must neuer see.”
“ I care nott ffor my siluer & gold, nor for my plate soe great plentye, but I monrne for that like-some Ladye 92 that Christopher white hath tane ffrom mee.
“ Bnt one thing I mnst needs confesse, this lady shee did say to me,
‘ if shee were ffalse to Christopher white,
96 shee cold neuer be true to mee.’ ”
All young [wo] men, a warning take !
a warning, looke, you take by mee ! looke that you loue jour old loues best,
100 for infaith they are best companye.
ffinis.499
(Humte Stott.1
2 “ A ballett intituled‘ The Wanderynge Prince ’ was entered on the Registers of the Stationers’ Company in 1564-5. This was, no doubt, the ‘ Proper new ballad, intituled The Wandering Prince of Troy : to the tune of Queen Dido,’ of which there are two copies in the Pepys Collection (i. 84 and 548). Of these copies, the first, being printed by John Wright, is probably not of earlier date than 1620 ; and the second, by Clarke, Thackeray, and Passinger, after 1660. The ballad has been reprinted in Percy’s Reliques of Ancient Poetry, iii. 192, a. d. 1765 ; and in Ritson’s Ancient Songs, ii. 141, 1829. Its extensive popularity will be best shown by the following quotations:
You ale-knights, yon that devour the marrow of the malt, and drink whole ale-tubs into consumptions; that sing Queen Dido over a cup, and tell strange news over an ale-pot . . . you shall be awarded with this punishment, that the rot shall infect your purses, and eat out the bottom before you are aware.—The Penniless Parliament of Threadbare Poets, 1608. (Percy Soc. reprint, p. 44.)
Frank.—-These are your eyes !
Where were they, Clora, when you fell in love
With the old footman for singing Queen Dido P
Fletcher’s The Captain, Act iii. Sc. 8.
“ Fletcher again mentions it in Act i. Sc. 2 of Bonduca, where Petillius says of Junius that he is * in love, indeed in love, most
1 This Song is in Print, and commonly not in the first three editions, intitled “ JEneas the Wandering Prince 2 Prom Chappell’s Popular Music, i. of Troy.”—P. Printed in the fourth 370-1. The quotations have been already edition of the Reliques, vol. iii. p. 240; given by him, p. 260-1.—P.
k k 2500
QUEENE DIDO.
lamentably loving,—to the tune of Queen Dido/ At a later date, Sir Eobert Howard (speaking of himself) says:
In my younger time I have been delighted with a ballad for its sake ; and ’twas ten to one but my muse and I had so set np first: nay, I had almost thought that Queen Dido, sung that way, was some ornament to the pen of Yirgil. I was then a trifler with the lute and fiddle, and perhaps, being musical, might have been willing that Words should have their tones, unisons, concords, and diapasons, in order to a poetical gamuth.—Poems and Essays, 8vo, 1678.
“A great number of ballads were sung to the tune, either under the name of Queen Dido or of Troy Town.”
Percy gives it in the Reliques from the Folio, “ collated with two different printed copies both in black-letter, in the Pepys Collection.”
This ballad tells, with some trifling variations, the story of iEneas’ visit to Carthage, and Dido’s passion and unhappy end. Pity for his sufferings as he recounted them quickly grew into love, and “this silly woman never slept,” and she “rolled on her careful bed,” and sighed and sobbed, and drove her knife home to her heart. Thus far the ballad follows the famous Eoman epic ; afterwards it narrates circumstances uncommemorated by Yirgil. Dido’s sister writes to /Eneas (the Wandering Prince’s address at this time was “ an isle in Grsecia ” ) to inform him of the poor lady’s decease, and how with her last breath she prayed for his prosperity. The perusal of the letter much distresses him. Just as he has completed it, appears before him Queen Dido’s ghost, grim and pale, reproachful, portentous. It bids him prepare his flitting soul to wander with her through the air. The miserable deserter prays for mercy; he would fain live, he says, to make amends to some of her most dearest friends—offers “ damages,” in fact; but, when he sees her inflexible, he makes a virtue of necessitjq and professes himself content to die. His hour comes at once.QUEENE DIDO.
501
And thus as one being in a trance,
A multitude of ugly fiends About this woeful prince did dance ;
He had no help of any friends.
His body then they took away,
And no man knew his dying day.
So that even an inquest could not he held over him.
In the JEneicl the hero does indeed see the ghost of the Carthaginian Queen ; but it is because he goes to its habitation, not that it comes to his. When in the sixth book he descends into hell, he sees the hapless Phoenician in the region or quarter of those
Qui sibi letum
Insontes peperere manu, lucemque perosi Projecere animas.
He sees her, and with tears would explain his departure from her arms. He left her, he urges, against his own will, by divine compulsion, and entreats her to stay and converse with him. But she answers him never a word.
Talibus iEneas ardentem et torva tuentem Lenibat dictis animam, lacrimasque ciebat.
Ilia solo fixos oculos aversa tenebat;
Nee magis incepto vultum sermone movetur,
Quam si dura silex aut stet Marpesia cautes.
Tandem corripuit sese, atque inimica refugit In nemus umbriferum; confux ubi pristinus illi Kespondet curis, sequatque Sichseus amorem.
Nec minus iEneas, casu percussus iniquo,
Prosequitur lacrimans longe, et miseratur euntem.
Ovid in the third book of his Fasti describes an apparition of Dido, but it is revealed, not to iEneas, but to Dido’s sister Anna, who is at the time the welcome guest of HUneas in Italy, to warn her of Lavinia’s jealousy.
Nox erat; ante torum visa est adstare sororis Squalenti Dido sanguinolenta coma,
Et ‘ Euge ne dubita, mcestum fuge,’ dicere, * tectum.’
The door creaked opportunely; and Anna, alarmed, escaped through the window, and finally threw herself into the river Numicius.502
QUEENE DIDO.
After the Trojan war,
"WHEN 1 Troy towne for ten yeeres warr withstood the greekes in manfnll wise, yett did their foes encrease soe hast,
4 that to resist none 2 cold suffise ;
wast ly 3 those wall[s] 4 that were soe good,
& corne now growes where Troy towne stoode.
Æneas
lands at Carthage, Dido makes him a sumptuous feast,
-¿Eneas, wandring prince of Troy,
8 when he ffor land long time had sought, att last arriued 5 with great ioy,
to mighty carthage walls was brought, where dido queene with s[u]mptuous feast 12 did entertaine that wandering guest.
and at it
asks him to tell her the scory of his hard fortune.
And as in hall att meate thé sate, the queene, desirous newes to heare of thy vnhappy 10 yeeres warr,
16	“ declare to me, thou troian deere,
thy 6 heauy hap, & chance soe bad, that thou, poore wandering prince, hast had.”
This he does,
so sweetly and pathetically that all weep,
and at last Dido is obliged to ask him to stop.
And then anon this comelye \night,
20 with words demure, as he cold well, of his ynhappy ten yeeres warr soe true a tall7 begun to tell, with wbrds sooe sweete & sighes soe deepe,
24 that oft he made them all to weepe;
And theh a 1000 sighes he ffeiht,8 & euely sigh brought teares amaine, that where he sate, the place was wett 28 as though he had seene those warrs againe ; 1 soe that the Queene with ruth therfore said, “ worthy prince, enough ! no more ! ”
1 Although or albeit.—P. now added 4 walls.—P.	5 Arriuing.—P.
after when by P.—P.	6 The.—P.	7 tale.—P.
2 nought.—P.	8 fet. olim pro fetcht. vid. Bible.
3 MS. wastly.—P. waste lie.—P.	2 Sam. 9. 5. item 1 K?s 9. 28, &c.—P.QUEENE DIDO.
503
And then the darkesome night drew on,	At night
32	& twinkling starres on skye was 1 spread,2
& 3 he his dolefull tale had told.
enery 4 * one were layd in bedd,	ail take
.	sweet rest,
where they rail sweetly tooke their rest,	save Dido,
36 sane only didos boyling brest.
This sillye woman neuer slept, bnt in her chamber all alone, as one vnhappye, alwayes wept.
40 vnto the walls shee made her moane that she shold still desire in vaine the thing that shee cold not obtaine.
who cannot sleep,
but always weeps and moans, desiring .¿Eneas.
And thus in greeffe shee spent the night 44 rTill twinkline: starres 1 6 in skye were ffledd.6 in the
L	&	.	morning
[And now bright Phebns morn]ing beames [page 515] she hears
that the
[Amidst they] clouds appeared redd.	Trojan ships
L	J J	x	are gone.
[Then tidings] came to her anon 48 [How that the] Troian shipps we[r]e gone.7 *
8 And then the queene wtth bloody kniffe	She seizes
.	a knife;
did arraee, her hart as hard as stone ; yett something loth to loose her liffe,	^before
52 in wofull wise shee made her mone;	herself,
then rowling on her carfull 9 bed, w^th sighes & sobbs these words shee sayd:
1	were.—P.
2	the skye bespread.—P.
3 when.—P.	4 then every.—P.
s Pared away in the MS. The brack-
eted parts ox the next four lines are torn away.—P.
. 6 Till twinkling starres in the skye were filed.—P.
7	And now bright Phebus morning beames
Amids the clouds appeared red,
Then tidings came to her anon How that the Trojan Shipps were
8	And then the Queen with bloody
knife
Hid arm her heart &c.
Yet something &c.
In woful wise &c.
Then rowling on &c.
With sighs &c.—P.
9	care-full, as in Piers Plowman’s Crede:
And al they songen o songe That sorwe was to heren;
They crieden alle o cry,
A Tcareful note.—P.504
QUEENE DIDO.
she laments her sad fate.
“ 0 wretched dido queene ! ” shee said,1 56 “I see thy end approcheth neere, ffor hee is gone away ffrom thee
whom thou didst lone & hold soe dere. what, is he gone, & passed by P 60	0 hart, prepare thy selfe to dye !
Then she calls on Death, and stabs herself.
“ Though reason sais thou shouldest fforbeare, to 2 stay thy hand ffrom bloudy stroke, yett ffancy sais thou shalt not ffeare 3 64 who ffettereth thee in cupids yoke.
come death ! ” qwfch shee, “ resolue my smart! ” & w^'th those words shee peerced her hart.
when death had peercet the tender hart 68 of Dido, Carthiginian Queene,
& bloudy kniffe had ended 4 the same,5 -which, shee sustaind in mournfull teene,
-¿Eneas being shipt & gone,
72 whose ffiatery caused all her mone.
Her funeral is costly,
and her sisters and subjects bewail her.
Her ffunerall most costly made,
& all things ffinisht mournefullye, her body ffine in mold was laid,
76 where itt consumed speedilye :
her sisters teares her tombe bestrewde, he[r] 6 subiects greeffe their kindnesse shewed.
Her sister writes iEneas a letter,
Then was -¿Eneas in an lie 80 in grecya, where he stayd long space, wheras her sister in short while writt to him in 7 his vile disgrace ;
In speeches bitter to his mind 84 shee told him plaine, he was vnkind:
2
3
said shee.—P.
And.—P.
bids thee not to fear.—P.
4	did [end].—P.
5	smart.—P.
6	Her.—P.
7 to.—P.QUEENE DIDO.
505
“ flalse liarted wretch,” quoth shee, “ thou art!	calling him
& traiterously thou hast betraid	hearted
vnto thy lure a gentle hart 88 -which, vnto thee much welcome made, my sister deere, & carthage Ioy, whose ffolly bred her deere annoy.
“ Yett on her deathbed when shee lay,
92 shee prayd for thy prosperitye, beseeching god that euery day might breed thy great ffelicitye. thus by thy meanes I lost a flreind :
96 heauens send thee such an v[n]timely 1 end ! ”
saying that Dido prayed for his welfare,
but her sister wishes him an untimely end.
When he these lines, fliill flraught wrth gall, perused had, and wayed them right, his Losty 2 courage then did flail;
100	& straight appeared in his sight
Queene didoes Ghost, both grim & pale, which made this vallyant souldier for to quaile.
iEneas, on reading this,
is cast down;
and Dido’s
ghost
appears,
“IEneas,” q^oth this gastly ghost,
104	“ my whole delight when I did liue !
thee of all men I loued most,
my fiancy & my will did giue ; flor Entertainment I the gaue ; 108 vnthankefully thou didst me graue;	reproaches him for his ingratitude,
“ Therfore prepare thy Slitting soule to wander w^th me in the aire,	and summons his soul to fly howling about the air with her.
where deadly greefle shall make itt howle 112 because on me thou tookest no care.	
delay not time, thy glasse is run, thy date is past, & death is come 3 ! ”	His death is at hand.
1 untimely.—P.	3 thy life is done.—Child’s Ballads.
2	? Lusty or Lofty.—P.506
QTJEENE DIDO.
JEneas prays for a respite,
but all in vain;
and seeing sbe is obdurate,
he is content to die.
Ugly fiends dance
around him,
and carry off his body.
1 0 stay Be not Query.—P.
u 0 stay a while, thou [lovely sprite !]1 [page 516] 116 be not soe hasty to conuay my soule into eternall night,
where itt shall neere behold bright day !
O doe not ffrowne ! thy angry looke 120 hath made my breath my liffe fforsooke.
“ But woe is me! all is in vaine,
& booteles is my dismall crye ! time will not be recalled againe,
124 nor thou surcease before I dye.
0	lett me liue, & make amends
to some of thy most deerest ffreinds !
“ But seeing thou obdurate art,
128	& will no pittye to me show
because ffrom thee I did depart,
& lefft vnpaid what I did owe,
1	must content my selfe to take
132 what Lott to me thou wilt partake.2 ”
And thus, as one being in a trance, a multitude of vglye ffeinds about this woffull prince did dance:—
136 he had no helpe of any ffreinds ;— his body then they tooke away,
& no man knew his dying day.	ffinis.
while thou gentle sprite,	MS. pared away.—F. lovely sprite.—
3 hasty to conuay.	Child.
2 to admit, to share : to extend participation. “ So Spencer.” see Johns?—P.507
OTonso $c «Sansfelo.1
A copy of this ballad occurs in the Garland of Good Will5 (reprinted by the Percy Society) to the tune of “ Flying Fame ”— a tune to which, says Mr. Chappell in his Popular Music, “ A large number of ballads have been written,” one in Collection of Old Ballads, and one in Evans’s Old Ballads.
The ballad celebrates the friendship of the two heroes whose name it bears. These stuck closer to one another than brothers. Such fast friendships between two knights were favourite subjects with the old romance-writers.2 Every true knight could boast not only of a lady love, but of a “ brother 'sworn.” And perhaps the writer of the following ballad does but echo some older poem. The generous eagerness of Alphonso to die for his friend, when overwhelming circumstantial evidence was condemning that friend to death, will remind the reader of the well-known old story Damon and Phintias, told by Cicero in his De Offciis (III. 10), and by others elsewhere.
JLisr Stately itoome sometime did dwell	A Roman
a man of worthy 3 ffame,	gentleman
who had a sonne of Features rare,4	had a son,
4	Alphonso called by5 name.	Alphonso,
when hee was growne & come to age, his Father thought itt best to send his sonnes 6 to Athens Faire, .	whom he
8	where wisdomes Schoole did rest.	Athens
1 In the printed Collection of Old Bal-	3 Noble.—O.B.
lads, 1726, Yol. 2, p. 145.—P.	4 seemly Shape.—O.B.
8 See Eger and Grime, vol. i.p. 355,	5 was his.—O.B.
1. 46, and note 8.	6 Son.—O.B.508
ALFFONSO AND GANSELO.
to learn letters,
where a knight took charge of him whose son, Ganselo,
was so like Alphonso
that they were only known apart by their names.
The youths love one another.
Ganselo
loves
a beautiful lady,
takes a fancy to visit her,
and asks Alphonso to go with him.
1 And when —O.B.
He sent him vnto Athens towne,1 good letters for to learne ; a place to boord him w^th delight 12 his ffreinds did well discerne ;
a noble hnight of Athens towne of him did take the charge, who had a sonne Ganselo cald,
16 inst of his pitch and age.
In stature & in person both, in ffauor, speech, and fface, in quality & condityon eke,2 20 the greed in euery case 3;
soe like they were in all respects, the one vnto the other, they were not knowne, but by their names,
24 of ffather nor 4 of mother.
And as in ffauor they were found alike in all respects, euen soe they did most deerly loue,
28 as proued by good effects.
Ganselo loued a Lady faire which did in Athens dwell, who was in bewtye peereles found,
32 soe ffarr shee did excell.
vpon a time itt chanced soe, as ffancy did him moue, that hee wold visitt for delight 36 his Lady and his loue;
& to his true and ffaithfull ffreind he did declare the same,
. asking of him if hee wold see 40 that ffaire & comely dame.
he was to Athens come. 2 Conditions.—O.B.
3 Place.—0,B.	4 or.—O.B.ALFFONSO AND GANSELO.
509
Alphonso did therto agree,
& wtth Ganselo went to see the Lady wliom 1 hee loned, 44 which bred bis discontent:
ffor wben be cast bis cbristall eyes vpon ber angells 2 bne, tbe bewty of that Lady bright 48 [Lid strait] 3 bis bart subdne.
Alphonso
goes,
and falls in love with, the lady,
[His gentle Heart so wounded 4] was w&th that ffaire L[ady’s4] face that affterward bee daylye lined 52 in sad & woefull case ;
& of bis greeffe be knew not bow tberof5 to make an end, ffor that bee knew tbe Ladyes lone 56 was yeelded to bis ffreind.
[page 517]
and becomes very sad,
as he knows she’s his friend’s sweetheart.
Tbns being sore pcrplext in mind, vpon bis bed bee lay like one -which 6 death & deepe dispaire 60	bad almost worne away.
bis ffreind Ganselo, that did see bis greeffe and great distresse, att lengbt requested ffor to know 64	bis canse of beaninesse.
He takes to his bed,
as one like to die.
Ganselo
asks the cause,
with mncb adoe att lengbt be told tbe truth vnto bis ffreind, who did release 7 bis inward woe 68 w^’tb comfort 8 in tbe end:
and on hearing it,
which.—O.B.
Angel.—O.B.
O.B. MS. pared away.—F. O.B.
5	Therefore.— O.B.
6	whom.—O.B.
7	relieve.—O.B.
8	to.—O.B.510
ALFFONSO AND GANSELO.
at once gives his love up to his friend,
c‘take courage then, deere freind ! ” qwoth hee ;
“ though shee through loue be mine, my right I will resigne to thee,
72 the Lady shalbe thine.
tells him to put on his (Oanselo’s) clothes,
and marry the lady.
“You know our ffauors 1 are alike, our speech alike 2 likwise ; this day in mine apparrell then 3 76 you shall your selfe disguise,
& unto church then shall you goe directly in my stead; soe 4 though my ffreinds suppose tis I, 80 you shall the Lady wedd.”
Next day Alphonso does marry her,
and is taken to her bed.
Alphonso was ffull5 well apayd ;
& as they had decreed, he went next6 day, & weded plaine 84	the ladye there indeed.
But when the nuptyall feast was done, & Phebus light7 was ffled, the Lady for Ganselo tooke 88	Alfonso 8 to her bed.
But in the morning
Alphonso is summoned to Rome,
the
deception is found out,
That night they spent in pleasing sort,9 & when the day was come, a post ffor ffaire Alfonso came 92 to ffeitch him home to Boome. then was the matter plainly proued, Alfonso weded was,
& [not10] Ganselo, to that dame ;
96 wMch brought great woe, alas !
1	Favour.—O.B.
2	also.—O.B.
3	O.B. omits then. —F.
4	Lo.—O.B.
5	so.—O.B.
6	that.—O.B.
7	quite.—O.B.
8	Part of a letter, or an r} follows o in the MS.—F. Alphonso.—O.B.
9 pleasant Sport.—O.B.	10 O.B.ALFFONSO AND GANSELO.
511
Alfonso being gone to Roome w^tb this bis lady gay,
Ganselos ffreinds & kinred all 100 in snob a rage did staye
that tbey deprined [bim x] of bis weltb bis lands 1 2 & ricb attire,
& banisbt bim tbeir country eke 3 104 in rage & wratbefull Ire.
w^tb sad & pensine tbougbt,4 alas!
Ganselo wanderd tben, wbo was constrained tbrougb want to begg 108	releeffe of many men.
In tbis distresse oft wold be say “ to Roome I mean to goe, to seeke Alfonso, my deere ffreind,
112 wbo will releene my woe.”
To Roome wben pore Ganselo came,
& found Alfonsoes place, which was soe ffamous, buge, & faire,
116	bimselfe in sucb poore case,
be was asbamed to sbew bimselfe in that bis poore array, saying, “ Alfonso knowes me well Í20 if be sbold 5 come tbis way ; ”
wberfore 6 be staid within tlie street.
Alfonso tben came by, but beeded non 7 Ganselo pore,
124 bis ffreind that stood soe nye;
1	O.B.	5 would.—O.B.
2	Land.—O.B.	7 Therefore.—O.B.
3	quite.—O.B.	6 not.—O.B.
4	Thoughts.—O.B.
and
G-anselo’s
friends,
enraged,
seize his
property,
and
banish him.
He is forced to beg,
goes to Rome, and finds Alphonso’s place so grand that he daren’t go there.
So he stops outside. Alphonso passes by, taking no notice of him.512
ALFFONSO AND GANSELO.
This grieves Ganselo, so
which, greened Ganselo to the hart: quohh hee, “ and is itt soe ? doth proud Alfonso now disdaine 128 his freind in need 1 to know ? ”
that he draws his knife to stab himself; but, while weeping,'
falls asleep.
In desperatt s[ort away he went] 2 into a barne hard by,
& presently he drew his k[niffe,] 132 thinking therby to dye ;
& bitterlye in sorrow there he did lament & weepe ;
& being o^erwayd with greeffe,
136 he ffell full 3 fast asleepe.
[page 518]
A murderer
takes up the knife,
thrusts it into a man he has killed,
while soundly there he sweetly slept, came in a murthering theeffe, which 4 saw a naked kniffe lye by 140 this man soe ffull of greeffe.
the kniffe soe bright he tooke vp straight, & went away amain e,
& thrust itt in a murthered man 144 which hee beffore had slaine ;
and then puts it, all bloody, into Ganselo’s hand.
Ganselo is found with the knife,
And affterward 5 hee went with speede, & put this bloody kniffe into his hand, that sleeping lay,
148 to saue himselfe ffrom striffe.
which done, in hast away 6 he ran;
& when that serch was made, Ganselo with his bloody kniffe 152 was ffor the murther stay de,
1 indeed.—O.B.	4 And.—O.B.
2 O.B.	5 afterwards.—O.B.
3 there fell.—O.B.	6 away in haste.—O.B.ALFFONSO AND GANSELO.
513
And brought befor the Magistrates,1 who did confesse most plaine that hee indeed with that same kniffe 156 the mnrthered man had slaine.2 Alfonso sitting there as 3 indge,
& knowing Ganselos fface, to sane his ffreind, did say himselfe 160 was gnilty in that case.
“ None,” q^oth Alfonso, “killed the man, my lords,4 bnt only I;
& therfore sett this poore man ffree,
164	& lett me instly dye.”
thns while for death these ffaith-ffull freinds 5 in strining did proceed, the man before the senate came 168 which 6 did the ffacte indeed,
Who being moned with remorse their ffaith-ffull7 harts to see, did proue 8 before the judges plaine 172 none did the deed 9 but hee.
thus when the truth was plainly told, of all sids ioy was seene ;
Alfonso did imbrace his freind 176 which had soe wofull beene.
In rich array he clothed him, as fitted his degree,
& helpt him to his lands againe 180	& fformer dignitye.
1	Magistrate.—O.B.
2	flam.—O.B.
8 with the.—O.B.
4	Lord.—O.B.
5	One stroke too few in the MS.—F.
YOL. III.	'	L L
0 That.—O.B. .
7	friendly.—O.B.
8	say.—O.B.
9	Fact.—O.B.
and tried . for tlie murder, lie confesses that he committed it.
Alphonso is the judge; and to save Ganselo,
vows that he killed the man.
Just then the real murderer,
struck with remorse,
proves his own guilt.
Alphonso
embraces
Ganselo,
and helps him to his old lands, &c.514
ALFFONSO AND GANSELO.
And the	tlie murtherrer lie1 ffor telling truth,
pardoned.	was pardoned 2 att that time,
who afterward lamented much 184 this 3 foule & greiuous crime. ffinis.
1 O.B. omits he.—F.	2 Had pardon.—O.B.	3 His.—O.B.
\_u‘All in a greene Meadoive” printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 114, follows here in the MS. p. 518-19.]515
asatotoe x1
This exquisite song is given in the Reliques from the Folio, “ corrected by2 another [copy] in Allan Kamsay’s Miscellany” and of course touched up by Percy himself without notice, Scottified throughout. There are many versions of the song; and of them we may particularise seven, in order of date as printed, or copied into manuscripts. On several of these versions Mr. Chappell remarks below :
1. In Brome’s comedy of The Northern Lass, or the Nest of Fools, printed in 1632, acted somewhat earlier,3 * * & occurs a version of two stanzas found neither in our Folio nor Bamsay’s Tea-table Miscellany. They are no doubt an imitation of one of the MS. versions now printed, and which have an earlier cast than Brome’s lines.
Peace, wayward barne ! Oh ! cease thy moan! Thy farre more wayward daddy’s gone,
And never will recalled be,
By cryes of either thee or me:
Por should wee cry Untill we dye,
Wee could not scant his cruelty.
Ballow, hallow, &c.
He needs might in himselfe foresee What thou successively mightst be ;
1	This Song is in Allan Ramsays
Collection call’d the Tea-table Miscel-
lany, printed at Glasgow, 1753, in 4
Parts. It is there call’d Lady Anne
Bothwell’s lament.—And consists of 13 Stanzas. Of wMih only the Is} 3?
& 7l.h are the same with this:—In the printed copy: the 2*1 & 3?, are put S'! & 2? & the 7t.h comes in 4t.h, the intermediate being omitted:—after which follow 8 other. The last St. of this is somethmg different from the Printed.—P.
2	“compared with” 2nd and 3rd editions of the Reliques; “corrected by” 4th ed* : no notice of any comparison or correction in the 1st ed.—P.
3	Robert Chambers, in a note to his Scottish Ballads (ed. 1829, p. 118), says that it is to be found in The Northern Bass, or the Nest of Fools, 1606.—W.C. ? a misprint for 1706, the date of the reprint of Brome’s play; we cannot find any notice of a book or play of this name in 1606.—F.
l l 2516
BALOWE.
And could hee then (though me forego e)
His infant leave, ere hee did know How like the dad Would hee the lad,
In time to make fond maydens glad ?
B allow, hallow, &c.
2.	Our Folio version, out of the first stanza of which a couplet has disappeared
3,	4. In John Gamble’s book, 1649 A.D., a musical MS. belonging to Dr. Eimbault, is the copy of Balowe given in the left-hand column below,1 which Dr. Kimbault has allowed us to transcribe. By its side, on the right, we put the copy from Elizabeth Eogers’s Virginal Booh, the Additional MS. 10,337, a.d. 1658, to which Mr. Chappell has called our attention.
[John Grumble’s MS. Book, 1649 a.d.]
1
Ballowe, my hahe, lye still and sleepe, it grieves me sore to see thee weepe! when thou art merry, I am glad; thy weepinge makes my hart full sad. hallowe, my hoy, thy mothers ioy, thy father hreedes thee much anoy; hallow, hallow, hallow, hallow.
2
halow my habe, ly still a while ; and when thow wakest, sweetly smile; butt doe nott smille as ffather did, to cozen maidens, god fforbid! butt now I ffear that thou willt leer thy fathers fflattringe hartt to hear.
halow &c.
[Addit. MS. 10,337, y>. 6 from the end.] 1
Baloo my hoy lye still and sleepe,2 itt grieues me sore to see the weepe : Wouldst thou hee quiet ist3 he as glade, Thy morninge, makes my sorrow sad: Lie still my hoy, thy mothers Joy,
Thy father Coulde mee great a-noy:
La loo, Ba loo, la loo, la loo, la loo, la loo, la loo,
Baloo, baloo, Baloo, haloo; Baloo Baloo.
When he began to court my loue, and with his sugard words did moue His flattering face and feigned cheare, To mee that tyme did not appeare,
1	Pinkerton prints a version in his Select
SeotishBallads, 1783,vol.i.p. 86, and says:
“ In a 4to MS. in the Editor’s possession, containing a collection of poems by different hands from the reign of-.Queen Elizabeth to the middle of the last century, when it was apparently written (pp. 132) there are two Balowes as they are styled, the first The Balow Allan, the second Palmer’s Balow ; this last, is that commonly call ed Lady Both well’s Lament, and the three first stanzas in this edition are taken from it, as is the last from Allards Balow. They are injudiciously mingled in Eamsay’s edition, and several stanzas
of his own added; a liberty he used much too often in printing Seotish poems.”
Pinkerton’s MS. (temp. Gar. 1.1625-49) is now in the possession of Mr. David Laing, and he has kindly compared it for us with Pinkerton’s text. The latter he declares to be “ utterly worthless. In the MS. the ballad Palmers Balow consists of six stanzas nearly verbatim with the text you have given from G-amble’s MS., 1649.”
2	Stops, hyphens, &c., all in the MS.
—F.
3	I should.—E.BALOWE.
517
• [John Gamble’s MS. Boole, 1649 a.d.] 3
when hee beegan to court my loue, with sugred words hee did mee move, his faineinge1 fface & fflattringe leares thatt unto me in time apeares; butt now I see that crewelty cares neitther ffor my babe nor mee,
' balow &c.
4
I cannott chose, butt euer will bee loyall to thy ffather still; his cuninge hath parlur’d 2 my hartt, thatt I can noe waies ffram him partt; in well or woe, wher-eare hee goe, my hartt shall nere departt him fro.
balow.
5
ffarewell! ffarewell the ffalsestt youth that euer kistt. a womans mouth! lett neuer maide ere after mee once trust unto thy creuelty! ffor crewell thou, iff once shee bow, wiltt her abuse, thou carstt nott how.
balow &c.
6
Now by my greifs I uow & sware, thee and all others to fforbeare; ile neither kiss, nor cull, nor clapp, butt lull my younglinge in my lapp. bee still my hartt, leaue off to moane, and sleep secuerly all alone.
balow &c.
5.	Watson’s copy in his Comic and Serious Scots Poems, Pt. iii 1711, p. 79. It is called “Lady Anne Bothwell’s Balow,” and contains 13 stanzas.
6.	Allan Eamsay’s copy in his Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724. This is called u Lady Anne Bothwell’s Lament.” It is Watson’s version with emendations, and some stanzas transposed. Like Watson’s, it consists of 13 stanzas; the Folio of 7. There are, as Percy notes, only 4 stanzas common to both copies; stanzas 1, 2, 3, and 7 of the Folio version occur with but slight variations in the other one.
1 ? MS. fameinge.—F.	2 ? for purloin’d.—F.	8 So in MS.—F.
[.Addit. MS. 10,337, i?. 6 from the end.]
But now I see, that Cruell hee Cares nether for my boy, nor mee,
Baloo baloo.
3
But thou my darlinge sleepe a while, and when thou wakest sweetlye smile, yet smile not as thy father did ozen3
To Cusen mads, nay god for-bid
re 3
But yett i feare that thou willt heare Thy fathers face and hart still beare Baloo //: //; //;
4
Now by my greifs I vow and sweare the and all others to forbeare I’le neuer kisse nor Cull nor Clapp But lull my youngling in my lapp,
Cease hart to moane, leaue of to groane, and sleepe securelye hart a-lone.
Baloo //: //: //.-518
BALOWE.
7. The version in Evans’s Old Ballads, 1810.	6 The new
Balow.’
The ordinary account of the original personages of this ballad is that given by Prof. Child in the fourth volume of his English and Scottish Ballads.
The unhappy lady (he says) into whose mouth some unknown poet has put this lament, is now ascertained to have been Anne, daughter to Bothwell, Bishop of Orkney. Her faithless lover was her cousin, Alexander Erskine, son to the Earl of Mar. Lady Anne is said to have possessed great beauty, and Sir Alexander was reputed the handsomest man of his age. He was first a colonel in the French army, but afterwards engaged in the service of the Covenanters, and came to his death by being blown up, with many other persons of rank, in Douglass Castle, on Aug. 80, 1640. The events which occasioned the ballad seem to have taken place early in the seventeenth century. Of the fate of the lady subsequent to this period nothing is known. See Chambers, Scottish Ballads, p. 105, and The Scots Musical Museum (1858), iv. 203 ....
But on this statement Mr. Chappell has been good enough to draw up, at some trouble, the following:
ci Baloo is a sixteenth-qentury ballad, not a seventeenth. It is alluded to by several of our early dramatists, and the tune is to be found in an early Elizabethan MS. known as William Ballet’s Lute Book,1 as well as in Morley’s Consort Lessons, printed in 1599. The words (see above) and tune are together in John Gamble’s Music Book, a MS. in the possession of Dr. Bimbault, (date 1649,) and in Elizabeth Rogers’s Virginal Book, in the library of the British Museum (Addit. MS. 10,337). The last is dated 1658, but the copy may have been taken some few years after. Baloo was so popular a subject that it was printed as a street ballad, with additional stanzas, just as ‘ My lodging it is on the cold ground ’ and other popular songs were
1 This highly interesting MS. which is ‘Queen Maries Dump’ (in whose reign in the library of Trinity College, Dublin, it was probably commenced) stands first (D. I. 21) contains a large number of the in the book. Chappell’s Popular Music, popular tunes of the sixteenth century. . i. 86, note b.—F.BAL0WE.
519
lengthened for the same purpose. It has been reprinted in that form by Evans, in his Old Ballads, Historical and Narrative, edit. 1810, vol. i. p. 259. The title is ‘The new Balow; or, A Wenches Lamentation for the loss of her Sweetheart: he having left her a babe to play with, being the fruits of her folly.’ The particular honour of having been the 6 wench ’ in question was first claimed for ‘ Lady Anne Bothwel ’ in Part iii. of Comic and Serious Scots Poems, published by Watson in Edinburgh in 1713. Since that date Scotch antiquaries have been very busy in searching into the scandalous history of the Bothwell family, to find out which of the Lady Annes might have been halla-balooing.
“ May we not release the whole race from this imputation ? The sole authorit}7 for the charge is Watson’s Collection!—the same book that ascribes to the unfortunate Montrose the song of ‘ My dear and only love, take heed,’ and tacks it as a second part to his ‘My dear and only love, I pray.’ Shade of Montrose! how must you be ashamed of your over-zealous advocate! Let us examine whether the spirit of ‘Lady Anne Bothwel ’ has more reason to be grateful. Among the stanzas ascribed to her by Watson, are the two following, which are not to be found in any English copy:
I take my fate from best to worse That I must needs now be a nurse,
And lull my young son in my lap.
From me, sweet orphan, take the pap:
Balow, my boy, thy mother mild Shall sing, as from all bliss exil’d.
In the second we find the inducement supposed to have been
offered by Lady Anne’s lover:
I was too credulous at the first To grant thee that a maiden durst,
And in thy bravery thou didst vaunt That I no maintenance should want: [!]
Thou swear thou lov’d, thy mind is moved,
Which since no otherwise has proved.’
“ Comment is unnecessary. Can any one believe that such520
BALOWE.
lines were written by or for any lady of rank ? 1 Yet they were copied as Lady Anne’s by Allan Bamsay, and polished in his usual style. They have been polished and repolished by subsequent editors, but to little avail, for they remain great blots upon a good English ballad.2 There is not a Scotch word, nor even one peculiar to the north of England, in the whole of Watson’s version.
“ The remainder of Eamsay’s copy will be found in the English ballad reprinted by Evans. Omit stanzas 5 and 7 of Eamsay (which are given above) and compare with Evans in the following reversed order:—Verse 2, 9, 3, 15, 10, 1, 14, 5, 6, 7 and 8.
“ The acumen of Scotch antiquaries has rarely been exercised against claims that have been once put forth for Scotland. Such matters are left for us lazy Southrons to find out.”
The sad lady and her lover are thus still to seek.
Excepting the two stanzas added in Watson’s copy, the piece is, we think, singularly beautiful—the work of no common poet, whoever he was. It is marked by a most touching simplicity and truthfulness. The poor forlorn woman speaks from the abundance of a full heart. The words she utters fall as naturally as her tears. Her spirit is of the gentlest and tenderest; and she makes her plaint most gently and tenderly. She cannot bring* herself to speak bitterly of him who has betrayed and left her. She regards him still with an ineradicable fondness:
1 The verse is accordingly altered in R. Chambers’s Scottish Ballads, 1829, p. 135, to
I was too credulous at the first,
To yield thee all a maiden durst.
Thou swore for ever true to prove,
By faith unchanged, unchanged thy love ; But, quick as thought, the change is wrought,
Thy love’s no more, thy promise noucht Balow, my boy, lie still and sleep!
It grieves me sair to see thee weip.
Chambers says that his “ copy of the
Lament is composed out of that which appeared in Watson’s Collection, with some stanzas and various readings from a version altogether different, which was published by Dr. Percy.”—F.
2 Other portions of the ballad have been treated in the same way. Even the late Professor W. E. Aytoun, not content with such changes as “ 0 gin ” for “ I wish,” (to make it more Scotch) must needs change “ With fairest tongues are falsest minds,” into “ With fairest hearts are falsest minds.”—W.C.BALOWE.
521
, I cannot choose hnt ever will Ee loving to thy father still.
Where’er he goes, where’er he ride,
My love with him doth still abide.
In weal or woe, where’er he go,
My heart shall ne’er depart him fro.
What a moving lealty of soul! What a passing constant lovingness !1 * * *
May we do ourselves the pleasure of quoting here an old Grreek song, of which66 Balow ” much reminds us—the Lament of Danae, written by Simonides ? The circumstances are indeed different. Danae has been sent out to sea in a boat by her father with only her child with her. (Compare Chaucer’s Man of Law’s Tale.) This aggravation of her sufferings is wanting to the deserted lady in Balowe. The father is in one case a god; in the other a mortal. But each woman’s one care and comfort is her child. Each bids her darling sleep as she herself weeps and watches tenderly over its slumbers. Of each the characteristic is a sweet patience, a touching meekness of nature.
8re XdpuaKi [S’] ev 8aidaXey dvepios re puv KivrjOe'io'd re Xipcva
deifjLan tfptirei/, ovk abiavroun irapeicus a/JL(j)i T€ IIepaei jSaAAe (piXav x*Pa eTird Te * 8> retcos, oXov eyca irduov *
<rb 8s auras yaXa6r}vcp (TT'fiOei2 Kv<b(r<reis ev arepireX
dc&fjLan xaXKeoydfjulHp WKTiXapnref	*
Kvaveca re dv6(j>cp radeis. hvaXeav 85 virepOe redv nSfiav (Hadeiav ttapiSvros K^fjLaTOS ovk aXeyeis, ou8’ aj/epLov (pOoyyoov,
Keifxevos ev 7rop(pvpea ^Aap/Sq ttpdcarrov KaXdv. el 8e tol beivbv r6 ye deivbv 9}v,
Kai Kev ejji&v prjpidTav Xeirrbv virel'%es ovas*
1 Mr. Kobert Chambers’s opinion, if it by no means agreeable to reflect upon, be entitled to the name, maybe compared:	He, however, afterwards saw reason to
“ The editor at first thought of excluding change his resolution, in the fine moral
the ballad altogether from his collection, strain which pervades the unfortunate
as, although the poetry is exquisitely lady’s lamentations.”—F.
beautiful, the subject is one which it is ' 2 Al. r* tfropi, al. tfdei) al. /uef8ei\522
balctwe.
Baby, sleep !
Your fathev has wronged me.
When he courted me, I did not see his falseness,
but now I do.
Darling,
don’t smile like your father did.
But I cannot help loving him still.
/c^Ao/d euSe ßpé<f)os, evòérù) Se 7xóvros, evBéra fa/xerpov lumòv * fieraßovKia Se ns (pavsiri,
ZeO 7rdrep, è/c o'éo.
S tl Se Qapa’akèov ztvos etfxop-cu T€Kvó(pi Mkccv, (Tvyyvoodi fioi.	Ed. Schneidewin.
Balow my babe, lye still & sleepe ! itt greeiies me sore to see thee weepe. balowe my boy, thy mothers ioy,
4 thy ffather breeds me great anoy.
balow, la-low, la-la-la, ra-row, fa-la, la-la, la-la, la-la-la, la-low!
When he began to court my loue,
8	& w^th his sugred words me moue,
his ffaynings false & Mattering cheere to me that time did not appeare ; but now I see most cruellye 12 he cares neither for my babe nor mee. Balow &c.
Lye still my darling, sleepe awhile,
& when thou wakest thoule sweetly smile 16 but smile not as thy father did, to cozen maids : nay, god forbid ! but yett I ffeare thou wilt goe neere, thy fathers hart & fface to beare.
20 Ballow &c.
I cannott chuse, but euer will be louing to thy father still; where-ere he goes, where-ere he ryds,
24 my loue w^'th him doth still abyde ; in weale or woe, where-ere he goe, my hart shall neere depart him ffroe. Ballow &e.BALOWE.
523
28 But doe not, doe not, pretty mine, to ffaynings false thy hart incline, he loyall to thy louer true,
& neuer change her ffor a new.
32 if good or faire, of her haue care,
ffor womens baninge is wonderous sare.
Ballow &c.
Only, pretty one,
be true to your love; never change.
Bearne, by thy face I will be ware;
36 like Sirens words lie not come neere 1; my babe & I together will liue ; heele comfort me when cares doe greeue ; my babe & I right soft will lye,
40	& neere respect2 mans crueltye.
Ballow &c.
Live and comfort me.
ffarweli, ffarwell, the falsest youth
that euer kist a womans mouth!
44 I wish all maids be warned by mee,	May ail
i	maids take
neere to trust	mans curtesye :	warning by
v	me, never to
for if wee doe	but	chance	to	bowe,	trust a man.
theyle yse ys then, they care not how.
48 Ballow &c.	ffinis.
1 JBairne, sin thy cruel father is gane,
Thy winsome smiles maun eise my 2 quite forgeit. Percy in Beligues.—P. paine. Percy in Beliques.—P.
[“ Old Simon the Kinge ” printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 124, follows here in the MS. p. 519-20.]524
Gentle iKarftsmam
This poem, is printed in the Reliques “ from a copy in the Editor’s folio MS., which had greatly suffered by the hand of time; but vestiges of the lines remaining, some conjectural supplements have been attempted, which, for greater exactness, are in this one ballad distinguished by italics.” We are not quite sure that the hand of time was always more to be dreaded than the hand of the Bishop.
A lady who has killed her lover with her caprice and boldness, determines to get her to some secret place and fast and pray till she dies. The picture of the forlorn figure—young of years, fair of face, weak (that is, youthful, immature) of wits, green of thoughts—begging her way to Walsingham, remorseful, hopeless, is prettily drawn. Groldsmith has borrowed from her speech in the ballad recited by Mr. Burchell in the Vicar of Wakefield. The Stranger, standing “ confess’d a maid in all her charms,” tells how she had trifled with the affections of her Edwin:
The dew, the blossom on the tree,
With charms inconstant shine;
Their charms were his, bnt woe to me,
Their constancy was mine.
For still I try’d each fickle art,
Importunate and vain:
And while his passion touch’d my heart,
I triumph’d in his pain.
Till quite dejected with my scorn,
He left me to my pride;
And sought a solitude forlorn In secret, where he died.
But mine the sorrow, mine the fault,
And well my life shall pay;
I’ll seek the solitude he sought,
And stretch me where he lay.GENTLE HEARDSMAN.
525
And there forlorn, despairing, hid,
I’ll lay me down and die:
’Twas so for me that Edwin did,
And so for him will I.
There the likeness ends. The eighteenth century poet could not bear to let the poor thing pass away from the scene still dejected and unhoping. The sentimental bosom of his time could not abide such dismal endings. The poet in this case* as his contemporaries in many another, gives it relief and comfort at the expense of probability:
“ Forbid it, Heaven! ” the Hermit cry’d,
And clasp’d her to his breast:
The wond’ring fair one turned to chide—
’Twas Edwin’s self that press’d.
“Turn, Angelina, ever dear,
My charmer, turn to see,
Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,
Restored to love and thee.
“ Thus let me hold thee to my heart,
And every care resign :
And shall we never, never part,
My life—my all that’s mine?
“Ho, never from this hour to part,
We’ll live and love so true :
The sigh that rends thy constant heart,
Shall break thy Edwin’s too.”
Contrast this gushing finale with the concluding stanzas of the older ballad, in their quietness and intensity at the same time:
How, gentle herdsman, ask no more,
But keepe my secretts, I thee pray.
Unto the towne of Walsingham Show me the right and readye way.
How goe thy wayes, and goe before,
For he must euer guide thee still:
Turne downe that dale, the right hand path,
And soe ffaire Pilgrim ifare the well.
And the contrite pilgrim moves sadly away towards her appointed goal.526
GENTLE HEARDSMAN.
“ Tell me	GENTLE : heardsman, tell to me—
the way to Walsing- ham.” 4	of curtesy I thee pray,— vnto the towne of walsingham which is the right and ready way.’
“ It’s bad, and hard for you to find.”	“ ynto the towne of walsingam the way is hard ffor to be gon, & verry crooked are those pathes
8	ffor you to ffind out all alone.”
" Not bad enough for me,	“ weere the miles doubled 3ise, & the way neuer soe ill, itt were not enough for mine offence,
12	itt is soe greuious and soe ill.,,
16	“ Thy yeeares are young, thy face is ffairn thy witts are weake, thy thoughts are greene ; time hath not giuen thee leaue as yett for to committ soe great a sinne.1 ”
and so you’d say if you knew my sin.	“ Yes, heardsman, Yes, soe woldest thou say if thou knewest soe much as I; my witts, & thoughts, '& all the rest,
20	haue well deserued for to dye.
I am a woman, 24	“ I am not what I seeme to bee ; my clothes & sexe doe differ ffarr; I am a woman, woe is me ! [A prey] 2 to greeffe & irksome care,
1 MS. sime.—P.	song for the Press, part of the Leaf has
2 MS. tom away here and in the been worne away. It was once exactly following lines.—P.	as I have represented it in my Book.
N.B. Since I first transcribed this	—-P.GENTLE HEARDSMAN.
527
44[* For my] beloued & well beloued	and was
[My wayward cruelty could kill:
[And though my teares will nought avail, [page 521 ]
28 [Most dearely I bewail him still.
2 44 [He was the flower of noble w]ights ;
[Hone ever more sincere colde] bee ;
[Of comelye mien and shape he] was,
32 [And tenderlye he lov]ed mee.
44 [When thus I saw he loved m]e well,
[I grewe so proude his paine t]o see, [That I, who did not kn]ow my-selfe,
36 [Thought scome of such a youth] as hee,2
44 And grew soe coy, & nice to please, as womens lookes are often soe ; he might not kisse, nor hand fforsooth,
40 vnless I willed him soe to doe.
by a noble youth,
whom I tormented
and scorned.
44 Thus being wearyed with delayes to see I pittyed not his greeffe, he gott him to a secrett place,
44	& there hee dyed without releeffe.
I wearied him out,
and he killed himself.
44 And for his sake these weeds I weare,	For his sake
to sacrifice my tender age,
& euery day lie begg my bread
48 to vndergoe this pilgrimage.	pilgrimage,
1 This ancl the following pieces in brackets were supplied by Percy, in the Beliques i. 73-4.—F.
2-2 Note by Percy on a separate slip, with an irregular line (but no dots) marking the broken edge of the leaf:
,;	.	.	. still
.	.	. oble wights
.	.	.	. ere . . bee
.	.	.	. e hee was
.	0	.	e loved mee
.	.	.	ned me well
.	.	.	. me to see
.	.	.	know myselfe
,	.	.	. as hee
and grew so coy & nice to please N.B. This shows the state of the Leaf as it was at first, before part of it was worn away—i.e. when I first got the Book.—P.528
GENTLE HEARDSMAN.
“ Thus euery day I ffast & pray,
& euer -will doe till I dye,
and desire to	& gett me to some secrett place ;
die as he did.	..._ n 0	_
52 nor soe did hee, & soe will I.
. Tell me the way to Walsing" ham.”
a Now, gentle heardsman, aske no more, but keepe my secretts, I thee pray ; ynto the towne of walsingam 56 show me the right & readye way.”
“ God go with you!
Turn to the right. Farewell!”
“ Now goe thy wayes, & god before,1 for he must euer guide thee still: turne downe that dale, the right hand path,
60	& soe, ffaire Pilg[r]im, ifare thee well! ffinis.
1 See the Glossary for a reference to Mr. Dyce’s note on this phrase.—F*
[“ Thomas you cannottprinted in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 116, follows here in the MS. p. 521» Fart of it is on a fragment opart from the MS,, being p. 522. Then follow Percy’s “ A List of the Ballads 8f other Pieces in this Booh. Pec. 20*? 1757 ” on the two fly-leaves, as printed (with additions') in my “ Proposal” for the publication of the MS., and the following P.S, and N.B.s at the end of the List:
P.S.—Properly 191 Pieces or Fragments. See the Additions inserted after N? 5, N? 9, and N? 12, and N? 162, which had not been discover’d when the above List was first made in 1757, or 8. (Percy.)
1	N.B.—I have, since this P.S. was written, found another Fragment in Page 55, which makes the Number 192. Perhaps more Fragments may be yet discovered
distinct from the rest.-Yes; 3 more on the Subject of Eobin Hood in Pages 7,
13, 20. In all 195. (Percy.)
2	N.B.—I have drawn a Eed Line under such Ballads as I have seen in print. The vols. refer to the printed Collection of Old Ballads, 12mo. 3 vols.2 A Black Line under such as I printed in my Beliques of And Poetry, 3 vols. (Percy.)
Lastly, inside the bach cover of the MS. is Percy’s “An Alphabetical List” of the Poems, referring by the numbers 1, 2, 8fc. to the former Contents-List. The following fragments from the end of the MS., and one complete poem in a' different hand, are pinned on a separate piece of paper.—F.]
1 This paragraph is written length- of the Contents-List.—F.
Wise up the inner edge of the last page 2-2 This paragraph is in red ink.—F.529
$ am
SaY : what is a wom[ans hart] that calmes &	.
is itt light lie 4	& or is itt
out alas out my mother h
lay I [h]ome
12
. what is a womans hart ? . has all, yett all has part; [r]ound or square, or soft or hard, itt in the fforging marde [out ala]s &c
[Tell me, my] loue & are all women true P [Some ar]e no doubt, but they are very ffew. [Most think that if their] ffaith & loue last long, 16 [Then must t]hey doe all others wronge.
[out alas &c]
[Why do] I loue ? what are those ffemale sexe [that] doth mankind soe much perplex p is itt water, ffire, earth, or aire,
20 that makes these creatures seeme soe rare ? ffinis.
1 This follows “ Thomas you cannot,” on a fragment of p. 522 of the MS._p.
M M
VOL. III.530
Contient
[On p. 522 of the MS.]
.	. 1y sliepard swaine
. vpon the storadyan plaine . ent to keepe his fflockes of sheepe 4	.	. hts lie did obtaine
.	. bis eye be did espye
. wlyous traine to passe , [a]fter a deere which ffollowed neere 8 which tbey bad bard in ebase.
after tbem came amaine a faire mayd,
which, did mone corydon tbrongb tbe snn for to ran,
thinking to bane stayd her : but be frained1 her ] 2	& still prayd her, but dismaid her,
& sbee thought bis sight to sbunn.
Ere tbey ended bad their race, tbey came vnto a place
where Pann did sitt bis ffitt in a garland made of bayes ;
16 but when tbe godds perceiued tbe maid, the tooke her ffor diana ;
both ffor bewty & attire tbe like was neuer any ; which did moue him to loue ber to follow,
20 att which sight, in a ffright backe againe rann tbe swai[n,]
where bis fflockes were grazing, Pann sate praising, but still gazing and amazing, ffearffull to behold tbe mayd.
1 frayed, qn. P. frained = asked.—F.CORIDON.
531
24 ffrom his flace shee fled with feare lest the godds shold And her th[ere]
with ffootmanshipp shee him out steppe, till shee came to riuer cleer[e] . . . but when shee see shee cold [n]ot fflee nor cold no flurther sc [ape] .	.	.
28 but timi shee [might] to
mm2532
[£wife] off Iftmme.
[On page 523 of the MS.]
This is a fragment of a late copy of the old poem on Henry V.’s famous siege of Kouen, which was begun on July 30, 1418, and ended, after a most gallant defence, by Henry’s triumphal entry into the city on January 16, 1419. The poem professes to be, and no doubt is, by an eyewitness, 1. 21-3.1 The first part of it was first printed by the Eev. J. J. Conybeare in vol. xxi. of the Archceologici, p. 48-78, from an incomplete MS., Bodley 124 (where Mr. Gr. Parker says he cannot now find it), and the second part was afterwards printed (with a portion of the first part, that is, from 1. 636) by Sir F. Madden in Archceol. vol. xxii. p. 361-84, from a complete MS., Harl. 2256, the prose chronicle of The Brute, collated with a rather older but less accurate MS., Harl. 753. Other MSS. are Bodley 3562 (formerly E. Musseo 124), and Lord Leicester’s MS. 670 at Holkham (.Madden, p. 351). The fragments of our Folio are here completed from a late MS., Egerton 1995, bought at Lord Charlemont’s sale in August, 1865, “ supposed to be in the hand of Gregory Skinner, Lord Mayor of London in 1451.”2 The poem, says Mr. Hazlitt in a note, “must have been written about two years after the battle, as the author speaks throughout of Thomas Earl of Dorset as Duke of Exeter, to which dignity he did not attain till 4 Henry V.” But as the 4 Henry Y. was March 21, 1416, to
1 It will be admitted, I believe, by all F. Madden in Archceol. xxii. 353.—F.
wbo will take the trouble to compare the 2 Sotheby’s Catalogue, referred to by various contemporary narratives of the Mr. Hazlitt, 'Early Pop. Poetry, ii. 92. siege of Rouen, that in point of simpli- The reader will perceive that the Char-city, clearness, and minuteness of detail, lemont or Egerton MS. is not unique, there is no existing document which can as Mr. Hazlitt supposed it was.—F. compare with the poem before us. SirSEEGE OFF ROUNE.
533
March 20, 1417, it is clear that Mr. Hazlitt was induced to attribute the date of Eouen to Agincourt by his prior erroneous statement that the Charlemont or Egerton ,MS. exhibited a different narrative of the same event which is commemorated in the ballad he reprints of “ ye batayll of Egyngecourte & the grete sege of Eone by kynge Henry of Mon-mouthe ”; for the writer of that ballad wisely says,
. . in this boke I cannot comprehend©'
The greatest batayll of all, called ye sege of Rone;
For that sege lasted .iij. yere and more;
And there a rat was at .xl. pens,1
For in the Cytye the people hongered sore ;
Women and chyldren for fante of mete were lore,
And some for payne bare bones were gnawynge,
That at her brestes had .ii. chyldren soukynge.
Of the sege of Rone it to wryte were pytye,
It is a thing so lamentable . .
E. Pop. Poetry, ii. 107- 8.
As the poem is printed from the best MSS. in the Archceologia, as above-said, and as the Early English Text Society have a new edition of it in their list, I have not thought it worth while to complete the Folio late copy by printing all the long late Egerton MS. here.—F.
[God that dyde a-pon A tre2]
[And boughte vs with hys blode so]e ffree, [To hys blys tham] bringe 4 [That lystenythe vnto my] talkinge !
[Oftyn tymys we] talke of diueres trauells,3 [Of saute, Sege, and of grete ba]ttells4
1	And flesche, save horseflesche, hadde they none:
They ete also bothe dogges and cattes, And also bothe myse and rattes,
And also an hors qnarter lene other fat, And a hundrede schyllynges hyt was worth at;
And also a hors hede at hälfe a pownde, And a dogge for ten schylynge of mony sounde:
For fourty pens they solde a rcitte,
And for two nobels they solde a catte: And for six pens they solde a mowse, hull few was lefte in any howse.
Bodley MS. 124, in Archceol. xxi. 63.
2	From Egerton MS. 1995, fol. 87.— F.
3	of trauayle.—Eg. MS. •
4	batayle.—Eg. MS.534
SEEG® OFF ROUEN.
[Bothe in Homans and in rym]e,
8 [What Lathe hen done be-fore thys tyme ;
[But y wylle telle yon no we pre]sent—
[Ynto my tale yf ye] take tent1—
[Howe the y. Harry onre leg]e,
12 [With hys ryalte he sette a sege [By-fore Bone, that ryehe Cytt]e,
[And endyd hyt at hys o]wne to bee 2 ;
[A more solempne sege was n]ener sett;
3 6 [Syn Ierusalem and Troy] were gett,3 [So moche folke was nenyr] seene4 [One kynge with soo many yndyr henyne :
[Lystenythe ynto me A lytylle space,
20 [And I shalle telle yon howe hyt was ;
[And the better telle I may,]
ff[or at that sege with the kyng I lay,]
& [there to I toke a-yyse]
24 [Lyke as my wyt wolde snffyce,
[Whenne Ponntlarge with sege was won^ne [And onyr sayne, then enter was be-g™ne.] the dnke of [Exeeter, that hende,]
28 to Bo wne the king [yn sothe hym sende,] 5 & Herrotts with him, to that Citye to looke if itt wold yeeleden bee,6 & alsoe ioy to looken the7 gronnd 32 all8 abont the Cittye ronnd,
& how they might best lay a seege ; bnt they wold not obey their leege. when the dnke of great renowne 36 was come before that royall to wne,
he displayd his banners great plen[tye,] 9 & herotts into the cittye sent Lee,
1 wylle tent.—Eg. MS.	6 yf that they yoldyn wolde be.—Eg.
2	owne yolunte.—Eg. MS.
3	was gotte.—Eg. MS.
4	sene.—Eg. MS.
5	To Rone yn sothe oure kyng hym
MS.
7	alle soo for to se that.—Eg. MS.
8	That was.—Eg. MS.
9	baners on A bent.—Eg. MS.
sende.—Eg. MS.SEEGE OFF ROUNE.
535
to warne them on paine of death 40	‘ that they our king shold not greeu[e,]
nor [be] w^th-standing of his might, but deliner this cittye soone in his sight.
& soe hee told them withouten bad,
44 he wold no ffurther till hee that hadd ; ffor ere hee went ffarr ffrom this place, hee wold itt winne by gods grace/ but that they ffrenchmen make no answer,
48 but bade them on their way es to hare,
& made assignment with their hand that he shold there no longer stand,
& shotten ont ordinance with great en[vye,]
52	& maden ware dispitteonslye.
then came fforfch "Knights keene on horsbace with armonr sheene,
& there mnstered the Duke againe.
56 on both partyes many were slaine,
& this was done without delay ; to pont large the dnke tooke the way,
& told the Knight of that cittye 60 how itt stoode, & in what degree.
to my talking &1 yon will take heedé,
I shall tell yon of accnrsed deede,
& how sinfully2 the ffrenchmen did thore3 64 or onr king came them before,
ffor all the suburbs of that ffaire towne, both kirkes & houses, drone them downe,
& att port Hillary the hend,
68 a parish church they all to-rend ; of St. Hillary was the same that after the port bare the name ; and att the same port4 downe thé drew 72 a church that was of S- Andrew,
1 for an, if.—E.	3 Nota, de mdlicia eormn, says the
2	MS. sufully ; and it transposes lines Egerton MS.-—E.
62 and 63.—E.	4 At porte Causses,—Eg. MS.536	SEEGE OFF JROUNE.
& alsoe an abbey of S* Geruais,1 for there the duk[e o]f Clarence lodged was att the port d[e Ponnte] downe the beate 76	[A] c[byrcbe of oure la]dy [swe]te,
[2And othyr of Synt Kateryn, that maydyn meke, [lastHneof [And of Synt sanyonre a nothyr eke ;	yfsibie on
[And of Seynt Mathewe they drewne downe one,	of
•80 [And lefte thereof stondyng nenyr a stone ;
[At Martyrvyle a-donne they mynde [Of Synt Mychelle a Chyrche fynde,
[And of Synt Povle a nothyr thoo,
84 [And mynede3] down [a nothyr a lytylle fro.] ^a^es5|4 the hedges, garden[s and streys,
[They drewe hem in-to the Cytte enery pece,] bushes & bryars both the[y brende,]
88	& made them bare men [as4 my honde.]
& yett there was a proud a[raye]
round about the Cittye gay ;
well was itt ordered ffor the [warre]
92 wAh all the defence that might [darre;] for the walls all were able,5 & the diches deepe, defencab[le ;] 6 the diches that were the walls [a-boufce,]
96 all the lands sayd there about,7 hitt was deepe, & therto w[yde,], w^th a strong trench o[n euery syde,]8 [A trenche hyt was with a depe dyssende,-]
100 that was made the diche to de[fende,] that no man shold come them [nere] but in their danger hee [were ;] ffor who soe come the [trenche w^t^-yn,]
104 harmelesse they might [not oute wynne.]
1 Iamys.—Eg. MS.	6 depe and fensabylle.—Eg. MS.
2 Supplied from Eg. MS.—E.	7 The londe syde whythe ovte.—Eg.
3 Bodl. MS. ? onynde, Eg. MS.—F.	MS.
4 made hyt as hare as.^—Eg. MS.	8 A trenche sewynge in enery syde*
5	fulle varyable.—Eg. MS.	—Eg. MS.SEEGE OFF ROUNE.
537
& all the ditches through 1	.
pittffalls were then b 2 & euer y pittfall a s[pere hyghthe,]
108 for therin shold sta[nde noo man to fyghte,]
& all was for to [make hem clere] that no gnnnes 3 [a-bonte them were ;]
& ffrom the p[yttefalle vnto the walle]
112 that was high [and stowte wit A-alle,] itt was a[s thyeke of caltrappys sette] 4 as m[eyschys be yn a nette.]
within the [Cytte aftyr the walle]	[i. H9 Eg. ms.]
116 morter5	.	.
with carts ..... as a
that .	...
[Qa/p : of 52 lines in the Ugerton MS., of 50 in the JBodley MS.~\
120	[6 Of pryncehode andno]ble the flow[r]e7 p^rcy ?oiio •
[Thonghe alle pryncys of hon]onr are sett, of E£*
[hTexte the beste he myghte] be sett. [i. 178 Eg. ms.]
1	And alle that dyche thorowe out© by-dene,
Pytfallde hyt was eyyr-more bytwene, And every pytfallde of a spere of heyth, For no man therin scholde stond to fy3t in fethe.—Bodley 124, Archceol. xxi. 51.
2	The Diche was brode and depe And fewe myghte fro many man hyt
kepe;
The bottom of the Diche wit^-yn Was pyttefallyd ij. fote enyr by-twyn.
■—Eg. MS.
3	MS. mn for mi.—F. noo man.—Eg. MS.
4	As thyeke of caltrappys hit fulle
was sette.—Eg. MS.
5	WitA-yn the Cytte aftyr the walle Welle countyrmurycle hyt was welle
wz’t^-alle,
With erthe soo thyke and so brode • That a carte myghte go \>er vppon lode That poynt they made in there werre
That noo gvnne shulde not hym derre. [1. 124].—Eg. MS.
Then follow 52 lines more in the Eg. MS.—F.
6	And at the ende then towarde the
Weste,
The Dewke of Clarence toke there hys reste,
Fore at an abbey there he gan lende That was beten downe and sore sehende, At the Porte Causes that gate byfore, And kepte inne the Frenschemen wyth grete power:
There Wanne he warschippe and grete honowre,
Off pryncehode he my3tebe called a flowre, For when alle prynces are ymette,
Next to the beste lete Clarence be sette. Bodley MS. 124, in Archceol. xxi. 53.
7	Of pryncehode he may bere a floure ; Thoughe alle pryncys were I-mette.
Lines 176 and 177 of Eg. MS.—F.538
SEEGE OFF ROUNE.
[At the northe syde by-t]weene,
124 [There was loggyd Excetyr ]?e ke]ne,
[And at the Porte Denys] he lay,
[Where freynysche men yssuy]n out onery day.
[He bet hem in at enery sch]amffull brunnt,1 IM83E&
128 [And wanne worschyppe] as hee was woont
[Of alle pryneys manhode to] report,
[Set hym for on of] the best sort.
[Bytwyne hym and Claren]ce then,
132 [Erie Marchalle, a man-]full man,
[Loggyd hym next the castell]e gate,
[And kepythe hyt bothe erly] and late.
[And forthe in the same] way,
136 [The lorde Haryngton] here he lay.
[Talbot, from deumfrount] when he come,
[He loggyd hym next] that2 groome.
[The Erie of Vrmounde] then lay hee
140 [Next Clarence -with a grete meanye,
[And Cornewale, that comely knyghte,
[He lay with Clarence bothe day and] night,3
[And many knyghtys in a froun]t
144 [Thatnowecomenot]in4 5 [mymyndetocounte.] ^ 202
Eg. MS.]
. uze
\_Oarp : 56 lines in Bodley MS. 124, Archceol. xxi. 55-6.]
W en . W .	.	[p. 526 of Folio MS.
148	& he gran[te]d them comp[assyon,6] L 267 Eg*MS,‘l
1	at enery brounte.—Eg. MS.
2	? MS. thy. that gome, Eg. MS., and adds two lines.—E.
3	? MS. might,—E.
4	? MS. in t,—E.
5	But be-lyve comawndede owre Lege, Eor to go to Caudybeke and sette ther a
sege.
And when he come the towne before, They bygan to trete wy thout eny more; AM as Bone dyde, so thay wolde done,
And grantede hyt in compocyssyone, And selyde hyt uppe-on thys condissione, That in the water of Sayne wythouten lette
Owre schyppis to passe forth wyth here frette.
Bodley MS. 124, Archceol. xxi. 56.
6	That he that dede wolde doo He grauntyd hem in compassyon.
—Eg. MS. 1. 266, 267.SEEG-E OFF ROUNE.
539
soe that then without lett
our shipps might passe w^th our [frette.]
then passed onr shipps forth in [fere,]
152	& cast their Anchor Rowne fn[lle nere,]
as thicke in soyne as they n eu[er did s ton de ;] 1 then were thé beseeged by watte[r and by londe.]
& when that warwicke that end [hadde made,]
156 then to the king againe hee ro[de,] betwixt St. Katherins & the [kynge] there he ordered his lodgin[g.2] well entred the Abbey w[as,]
160	& soone yeelded, by gods gr[ace ;]
& after within a litle space 3
he lodged att the port M[artynyace,4]	[i. 280 Eg. ms.]
there as spitefull warr[e there was.]
164 ener they came forth o[wte in pat place,] but then be dreuethe [hem yn a-gayne] manfully w^th migh[te and may ne ;5]
& Salsbnry was fain6 [to ryde,]	[i. 288 Eg. ms.]
168	& yett hee turned7 [and dyd a-byde,
[By Huntyngdon there lende] till the seege wa[s at an ende,]
& the Grloster, that [gracyus home,]8 172 from the [sege of Ohirboroughe when he [l. 288 Eg. ms.] come]
[Gap: of atout 70 lines in the Eger ton MS., of 55 in the Bodley.']
1	in sayn as they myghte stonde.—Eg. MS.
2	He loggyd hym and was byggynge. —Eg. MS.
3	whyle.—Eg. MS.
4	Martynvyle.—Eg. MS.
5	Lines 163-166 occur two pages hack
in the Egerton MS. For them here, Eg.
has:
Moche worschyppe there-fore to hym was,
And soo hathe hen in euery place.—F.
6	Saulysbury that was synyde.—Eg. MS.
7	Yet he returnyde.—Eg. MS.
8	So in Eg. MS., hut read gome as in Bodley, 124,
And then Grlowsetre that worthy gome. —F.540
SEEGE OFF ROUNE.
. warryour aght1	[p. 527 of ms.]
Knight
t noble Knight
176	.	.	.	. be was full right
[Mon senoure P]ewnes, this2 was hee, [i. 353 Eg.MS]. [Captayne of the p]ort of St. Hillarye ;
[The Bastard of Teyn]osa,3 a warryour wight.
180	.	.	. tive of much might,
[And of alle the] men4 that were without [Of alle the Cytte ro]und about;
[And euery on of the]se Captaines had 184	[V. M1 men and moo in l]ade ;
[And they nomberyd] were within,5 [Whenn oure sege] did begin,
[To .iij. CCO. M1 an]d ten,
188 [Of wymmen, chyldryn,] and men;
[Of pepylle hyt was a gr]eat rowte,6 [A kynge to lay a se]ge about.7 [And there-to they were fulle] hardy indeede8 192 [Bothe in foote and eke in] steede	[i. 372 Eg. ms.]
.	.	.	. epy men9
. did know
J Mon senyour Antonye A werryour wyghtß,	[l. 347]
He was leuetenaunt to that knyghte Herre Ehanfewe was captayne Of the porte de pount de sayne: [350] loh an Mawtrevers that man,
Of the porte of castelle was captayne. —Eg. MB.
And Mowne-Syr Antony, a werryonr wy3te,
He was levetenawnte under that kny^te. And Hery Camfewe, he was captayne Of the Porte de Pownte of Sayne.
And Johan de Matreways, that nobylle man,
Of the Porte of the Castelle he was captan.
Bodley MS. 124, in Archceol. xxi. 59.
2	Pennewys thenne.—Eg. MS.
3	The Bastarde of Teyne in that
whyle	[l. 355]
Was captayne of porte Martynvyle
And gaunt Iaket or Iakys of werrys wyse
He was captayne and alle so the . pryce.-^-Eg. MS.
4	skarmoschys.—Eg. MS.
5	And whenn they wolde rayse alle the
comynalte
Many a thousande myghte they he ; Men nomberyd them wAA-yn.—Eg.
MS.
6	a proude store.—Eg. MS.
7	a sege be-fore.—Eg. MS.
8	MS. cled indeede.—E. hardy in dede. —Eg. MS.
9	And als prowde men as euyr I saye, And poyntys of warre many one dyd
shewe.
Whenn they yssuyd owt, moste co-mynly
They come not owte in one party;
At ij. gatys, or iij. or alle, [i. 377] Sodynly they dyd owte falle.—Eg.SEEGrE OFF ROUNE.
541
. to come out e port
MS. There are 33 pages more in the. Egerton MS.
Men nombred of hem that were withinne, Ffurste when owre Sege gan to begin ne, Unto four hundred thewsande and ten, Off wymmen, off* children, and also off men:
Off peple that was prowde store,
A kynge to lay a Sege tofore.
And therto they war fulle hardy in dede, Bothe on fote, and also on stede,
And the prowdest men that ever y knewe,
And mony poyntes of werre they wolde shewe.
But when they wolde come owte comenly, They came nott owte alle on a party, Nother at two gates, nor at thre, but at alle
Sodaynly they wolde out falle :
Bodley MS. 124, in ArchceoL xxi. p. 59-60.
There are above 18 pages more in voi. xxi., in all 946 lines ; the rest, up to 1. 1312, are (with the prior lines from 1. 686) in ArchcBol. xxi. p. 371-384.—F.542
[g>uri) a Hotel* am \*]
This song declares that the speaker is a lover of such a temper that he varies/ to use a mathematical phrase* directly as his mistress ; whereas lovers, for the most part* vary inversely as their idols. If she smiles on him, he is delighted; if she refuses him* he ejects her from his thoughts. He is no woman’s slave. Of lovers* as of the Jews* it may be said that sufferance is the badge of all their tribe. This gentleman tears off and throws away his badge. Should Cupid and Venus trouble him,—
Mandaret laqueum mediumque ostenderet unguem.
Mars, Bacchus* Apollo* are far superior divinities* to his thinking. We have seen no other copy of this song.
I shan’t die for a girl’s refusal.
If once my mistress is unkind,
Such a Lover am I:
’Tis too late to deny
That for a refusall I never can dye; 1 2
Yet my Temper is such,
And that’s very much,
My Passion Re-Kindles at every Touch ; But if once I doe find My Mistress vnkind,
i forget her. Why then her past favours are quite out of mind.
I don’t cry
and bother myself.
My Courage II’e Keepe,3 ’Tis Childish to weepe ;
12 I’le not be disordered, awake nor a-sleepe ;
1 This song is written in a different and	the MS.—F.
later hand. It has initial apostrophes, 2 Line 3 is written as two in the MS. and some commas. Though it is with	—F.
the fragments, it was never part of 3 ? MS. ILeepe.—F.SUCH A LOYER AM I.
543
ffbr if like a fond Swaine I should pine & complaine,
She’l scornfully Trivmph, & laugh at my payne, Or if I shold crave In Revenge the Cold Grave :
He that Dyes for a woman, can nere be that brave. Hang Cupid and Yenus! nere mencwn them more !
Such pitifull Powers I scorne to adore!
Since I by Kind Nature my Libertye have,
’Twere base that such Bugbares should make me their slaves :
I manfully acknowledge my selfe farr above That childish Idoletry, miscalled Love.
Mars, Baccus, Apollo, are much more divine, Theire Biusinesse farr Nobler, much brisker their wine.
A wedded Condic^on contributes noe ease ;
Wife, Children, and Servants, disorder their peace.
When heartye ffreinds fayl, my true Comforts of Life,
I then may turne desperate, & thinke of a Wife.
If I did pine j
she’d laugh at me.
Only cowards crave death for a woman.
[back.] Hang Cupid!
If I’m free, why should I make myself Love’s slave ?
I’m above that
nonsense.
Bacchus
before
Venus!
When my friends fail, then I’ll turn desperate and marry.544
I. LEOFFKICUS.
\Bodl. MS. 240, p. 359, col. 1, by John of Teynemouthi]
Item de euentibiís illms temporis c,ap. 99.
1	Harald«¿s et tostiws filij godwini dum apwd Wíndesoram vinum regi propinasse«! . capillis et ma«ibiís mutuo comüi-gebant. quorum i^fortunium ventimi m statim prophetauit rex edwardi¿s . Ha-raldus comes uolens visere íratrem suum et nepotem qui apud 2W\diielmum ducem normamnie obsides era«t tempestate actws delata est pontunium. Quem cónsul terre trodidit duci WillieZ-mo . Harakta antequcim euadere posset. iurauit duci quod filiam eius duceret. et Angliam ad opz¿$ eta seruaret. 8 Mortuo Henrico .2. imperatore. successit Henri-cus 3US qui regnauit araiis 50 . Steplinims .9. abbas de monte cassino. sedit post vic-torem me«sibtís .8. Benedicta .10. sedit papa me«sib«s .9. qui violemtcr intrusus postmodsm cessit.4 Circa bec tempora go-diua comitissa, couentxiam a gremì semi-tute liberare affeetaws, leofricum comitem assiduis precibws sollicitauit ut somete trinitatis dei quod ge?dtricis mtuitu vil-lam a predecía seruitute absolueret. Pro-hibuit comes ne de cetero remsibidamp-nosam bianiter postularet . Illa a idem virum indesine«ter de peticione promòssa
exasporans . tale ra«sum extorsit ab- eo “Ascende,” inquìt, “equum tiiurn nuda a ville inicio usqwo ad finem, poppilo congregato . et cum redieris postulata im-petrabis .” G-onere godiua deo dilecta. equum asce«dens nuda crines capitis et tn'cas dissoluens . corpus totum proter crura inde velauit. Itinere completo . A nomine visa ad virum gaude«s reuersa est. Leofric?fó‘ uero couentriom a sì ruitute li-berauit. cartam suam inde factam sigilli munimwie roborauit . et cito post obijt. et apud couentmm, in monasterìo q«od ipse eo«struxerat, sepulta est. 5Ybi et brachium sancii Augustini doctoris ha-loetur, argentea techa ¿«clusum . quod egelnothus Archiepiscopus redie«s a roma apudpapiam vrbem aliqnando emit .100. tale«tis argenti. Hic leofriczìs reporauit et ditauit momzstma leonesse iuxta Herefordiam . 6Weneloce«se et in Lege-cestri« solete W erburge. sanctìque ioh an-«is . Wigorne«se quoque et euishmm-[ense] In Alamawnia scotomm moiws-Urium combustum est . quod quidem i«cendium . quidam mo««chus paterna nomile diu ante predixerat7. Hic proptor propositum reelusionis exire nole«s. se comburi passus est.
IL NUT-BROWN MAYD,
Compare with this the Carol on the Virgin Mary, No. VIII. in the Sloane MS. 2593, leaf 5, printed by Mr. Wright in his Songs and Carols for the Warton Club, 1861, p. 11.
1	1620.1056.14.	5 cimi brcecliium saucti AugM.stini magni doctoris.
2 infra cod. li bro. c. 110.	* note, do Leomenstrte iuxte Hereford iam.
3	1621. 1057. 15.	* 16. 1058. 1632.
4	Flores historte.NUT-BItOWN MAYD.
545
Wommeffl be bob0 good and trewe,
Wytnesse of marye.
Of hond^s and body and face arn clene,
Wommew mown non beter bene,
In eu^ry place it is sene,
Wytnesse of marie.
It is knowy?2, and euere was,
\>er a womman is in plas,
Wommaw is b® welle of gras,
Wytnesse [of Marie.]
>ey louyft mon with berte trewe,
Ho wyl not chaungyw for non newe ; s Wommew ben of wordys ffewe,
Wytnesse [of Marie.]
Wommew ben trewe witA-out lesyng, :
Womme» be trewe in alle bing,
And out of care bey mown vs bryng,
Wytnesse of marie.
There are several satirical songs against women in Mr. T. Wright’s Carols and Songs for the Percy Society^ 1847, in his Ballads, temp. Philip and Mary from a MS. at Oxford, for the Boxburghe Club, and in vol. iv. of Mr. Hazlitt’s Remains of the Early Popular Poetry of England. Mr. Hazlitt notices songs in .praise of women. There is one in Reliq. Antiq. vol. i. p. 275 ; and as Boberd of Brnnne says,
. . no byng ys to man so dere'
As wommanys loue yn gode manere.
A gode womman ys mawnys blys bore bere loue ry$t and stedfast ys : bore ys no solas vndyr heuene Of alle bat a man may neuene, bat sbuld a man so mocbe glew As a gode womman \>at loueth trew.
He derer ys none yn Groddys hurde ban a chaste wowman wyb louely wrde.
Handling Synne, p. 62, 1. 1904-13.
VOL. III.
N N546
INDEX.
A Cauilere .		PAGE 366	Lulla, Lulla! ....	PAGE 387
A Louer off Late	,	389		
A Propfhlecye .	,	371		
Adam Bell, Clime of the Clough, \		76	Marke More Poole	127
and William of Cloudeslee i"			Maudline . . . .	374
JEneas and Dido	. ,	260	Murthering of Edward the Pourth	
Alffonso and G-anselo .	,	507	his Sonnes ....	162
Amintas	,	450		
Are Women faire As yee came from the	Holye	364	How the Springe is come .	230
Land . , .		465		
			O Noble Pestus ....	269
Balowe . . *	. ,	515		
Bosworth Peilde.	•	233	Patient Grissell ....	421
			Proude where the Spencers .	478
Carle off Carlile .	, ,	275		
Christopher White		494		
Come, my dainty Doxeys	.	313	Queene Dido ....	499
Come, pretty Wanton .	.	385		
Coridon		530		
Cressus .	, ,	301	Scroope and Browne .	431
			Seege off Roune ....	532
			Sir Andrew Bartton .	399
Darkesome Cell .	, ,	123	Sir Cawline ....	1
Death and Liffe .	, .	49	Sir Degree .....	16
			Sir John Butler ....	205
			Songs of Shepardes .	303
Edward the Third	•	457	Such a Louer am I	542
G-entle Heardsman		524	The Drowning of Henery the I	
Great or Proude.	, ,	391	his Children ....	156
			The Pall of Princes .	168
			The Lauinian Shore . .	308
Hee is a Poole .		386	The Nutt-browne Maid	174
Hero and Leander		295	The Pore Man & the Kinge	195
			The Rose of Englande	187
			The Spanish Ladies Lore .	393
lam			529	The Squier		263
In olde Times paste .	, ,	119	Thomas of Potte . . .	135
In the Dayes of Olde	•	441	To Oxfforde .	315
Kinge Edgar		, 485	Will Stewart and John ♦	215
Kinge Humber . .	, ,	, 435	William the Conquerour	% 151
			Wininge of Cales	453
Ladye Bessiye . .	g f	, 319		
Leoffricus (or G-odiva)	.	. 473	Younge Cloudeslee	102547
GLOSSARY.
Almost all the words are explained in the notes where they first occur. The meanings are therefore put shortly here. Generally, only one reference is given. The French words are from Cotgrave, except where another authority is named.
ABO
ahone, i.364/307, above, outside abotts on you ! ii.155/186 accompackement, i.430/249, a compact acton, i.358/127 ; i.359/173, a wadded or quilted tunic worn under the hauberk.—Planche, i. 108 aduanting, i.155/342, boasting after clap, ii. 399/184 ; afterclappe, i.435 /429
againe, i.93/85, gain, get to iii.26/215 ; 46/819, gone agazed, iii.154/70, agast agramed, ii.489/2036, angered agrise, i.469/1515, frighten, terrify a-know, i.450/901, acknowledge; confess all in jfere, iii.281/103, together. Perhaps all on fire.—P. alle, i.362/247, ale _ allyance, ii.58/7, aliens ally ants, iii.241/146, aliens.—P. Alliant or ally, one that is in league, or of kindred with one.—Blount, 1656 alner, i.143, purse, money-bag alyant, i.215/61, alien ancetrye, iii.240/127, ancestry ancyent, i.303/77, ensign, flag ancyents, ii.480/1789, heroes of old ¿mrf, iii.63/171, an i.367/405; ii.44/1, an ¿md, i.96/159, if # . . $, i.369/463, if . . and J, i.450/899, that, who -¿md, imp. part., i.26/5 ¿me, i.101/305, one anonwright, i. 152/241, at once apayd, ii.559/49, pleased
i.428/187 ; 472/1602, at once i. 153/287, bend, yield appay, ii.568/274, own estimation? applyed, i.191/263, bent to, performed
AXS
ii.265, in
archboarde, iii.407/91, ship, or side of a ship
arkward, i.386/1029; 387/1055, ? awkward, ugly
armin, ii.476/1678, ermine arming, i.517/18 array, ii.570/305, armour arsoone, ii.434/516, saddle arsowne, ii.429/363, Fr. argon, saddle-* bow
as, iii.286/252, thus, like aslake, i. 152/247, slacken, stop. A.-Sax.
aslacian, to slacken, loosen assignment, iii.535/49, signs assise, ii.439/651, measure, manner, way assoyled, iii. 101/674. assoil, to acquit, cleer, or pardon: to absolve.—Bui-lokar's Diet.
a-steere, i.357/112, astir, on the qui vice astyte, i.1081193, at once, quickly astyte, or tyte, ii,430/379, quickly att, i.391/1173, from att device, i.158/435, elegantly, splendidly attild, i.228/318, prepared, made ready attilde, i.221/180; 228/318, made ready attilde, i.385/992, dealt, struck auant, i. 150/192, boast. Fr. avanter avant, iii.71/366, boast. “ I avaunte or boste myself,” je me vante.—Palsgrave avanted, iii.253/481, advanced, raised avanting, i.160/506, boasting avayle, iii.226/279, pull down, from Fr. a val.
avoyde, I go out of a place, I avoyde out of it. Je vuide.—Palsgrave awise, i.233/410 ? miswritten for “ a noise.”
awondred, i.466/1412, astonished axsy, i.l 43, ask, A.-Sax. acsian nn2548
GLOSSARY.
BAC
bacheeleere, iii. 6/61, knight bachelours, iii.59/78, knights badgers, ii.205/31, corn-dealers baile, i. 161/534, bale, sorrow baine, i.94/108, ready bale, Prov.: when bale is att hyest, boote is at next, i. 171/133 ball, ii.229/43, bale; iii.57/21, sorrow, misery
ban, i.96/158, curse
band,	i.81/26, bond, agreement bandog, i.30/58
bandshipp, ii. 564/177, Pbondship, villen-age, or fellowship. Sc. band, bond, obligation.—J%mieson.
bane,	iii.21/53, perhaps lane.—P, banely, iii.66/247, kindly
bann, i.55/31, curse
barathron, iii.76/406, the Latin ¿¿zra-thrum, an abyss, used to signify hell. —I)yce
barme, ii.438/629, bosom barnes, iii. 59/81, children, human creatures.—P.
barrison, ii.580/561, for warrison, gift, reward
barronrye, i. 158/442, collection, or jury, of barons
barronrye, i.277/118, baronry basenett, ii.435/545, iii.45/788, a light helmet, like a scull cap. Fr. bassinet. . . the scull, sleight helmet or headpiece, worne in olde time, by the French men of armes.—Cotgrave, 1611 bashed, i.225/252, abashed battell, iii.439/47.. Column, military formation
baylye, ii.367/717, district baysance, i.159/476, obeisance, bow, salutation
beads, gold, for prayers, i.365/331 beanes, iii.413/208, beams.—P. bearing (arrow), iii.98/601; 413/211, ? well-feathered for far-shooting, like a “ good carrying cartridge.” bearne, iii.56/14; 73/407, child, human creature, man, &c.
be deene, ii.224, Dutch, bij dien, forth-• with -
bedone, ii.305/8, done over, ornamented beene, ii. 583/625, baine, ready beeten, i.227/304, lighted began, i.448/843, grow, swell begin the dais, ii.379/1028, take the first place at it:
BID
Qwene Margaret began the deyse; Kyng Ardus, wyth-owtyn lees,
Be hur was he sett.
Syr Tryamoure, ed. Halliwell, Percy Soc. 1846, p. 55, 1. 1636-8 Two kyngys the deyse began,
Syr Egyllamoure and Crystyabelle than
Sir Eglamour, p. 173, 1. 1259-60 begon, i.115/595, gone over, done over, dressed
begon, i.394/1279, covered, ornamented with
behappned, i.356/73, happened to beheard, i.236/23,31. heard, i.309/229 behoues, iii.25/165, is of use to beleeue, ii.71/355, be leal, loyal, true beliue,i.21/48,suddenly; 223/212 quickly belyeth, i.458/1177, belies, tells lies, against
benbow, i.36/21, 54/20, bend bow, bow that will bend benche, iii.329/209, ? benefize, ii.573/367, benefice bent, iii.59/63, bent, where rushes grow, the field, bent, ii.341/20, dwelling ? beraye, iii.24/138, bewray -here, i.383/924, noise, cp.bray, iii. 62/144 beronen, i.213/31; iii.63/172, run over with, covered
beseeke, i. 163/596, Northern form of beseech, i.162/554
besene, well bysene, bien accoustre.— Palsgrave, p. 844, col. 1. besett, i.445/745, charged, exhorted besids, i.379/802, from off bespake, i.175/11, spoke to besprent, ii. 184/5, besprinkled bethought, were, i.460/1226; i.463/1317, thought
bethought, was, i.486/2056, had planned betide, “ Baillez luy belle, Goodly betide him; some bodie spit in his mouth, for now he hath it sure.-—Cotgrave . betraine, i.459/1185, betrayed bett, i.361/238, remedied, relieved bett, ii.485/1928, beat, perfect bett, iii.36/490, better, larger bett, i.l 68/53, lighted, A.-Sax. betan, to light a fire
bettell, ii.574/408, tell of, betray bewept, ii.373/858, lamented, wept for bickered, i.213/2 7, fought, Welsh bier a, to fight
biddon, i.356/79, stayed; 368/455; 440 1580, remainedGLOSSABY,
549
BIG
bigged, iii.72/383, built bigglye, iii.72/390, mightily biled, ii.306/34, drew near bittaments, ii.330/66, ornaments ?
¿me, iii.67/254, ? for pyne (see ; or trick, slaughter
iii.66/231, bulk, burthen birtled, ii.310/173, cut up ¿¿sse, iii.428/119, white silk; Wssw, qwite silke. G-loss. in Reliq. Ant.
i.7, col. 1. “Pure white sylke, soye bissine.”—Palsgrave, bissines, silken words.—Cotgrave bitter, iii.28/255, A.-S. beetle blacke, ii.403/54, ? blacking blanchmere, iii. 41/652, ? a kind of fur blanke, ii.164/12, a half-sous, half-penny blanked, i.228/328, pierced point blank Harked, iii.326/132 ; 337/412, blanked; blank, pale and won, that is, out of countenance.—Phillips blaundemere, ii.420/129, a kind of fur
i.	362/246, bled dry, bloodless
ii.	306/50, colour, hue
iii.	59/65, complexion; S. 5/eoA, color blenched, iii. 57/32, shrunk, started, leaned
towards
blend, i.236/30; 134/18, mixed bleeue, i.162/555, believe
iii.67 254; blinne, i.175/7; 218 /10, A.-S. blinnan, to cease blood-irons, i.56/53,59, lancets blushe, iii.72/388, blushed on, ii.72/382, blushed at blythe, iii.38/551, A.-S. glad
ii.298/69, lodge and feed bole, iii.57/32, (country word) the main Body, or Stock of a Tree.—Phillips bovnhard, iii.253/491. Fr.Bombarde. A . Bumbard, or murthering peece.— grave
bondsman, ii.557, note. See Essay on Bondman in vol. ii.
i.381/881, village, Flemish bonne, Sw. boning, Du. wooning, Grerm. wo/a-nen. From the same root as waine.— Brockie. ? like i.377/749, A.-S.
1. a wound-maker, a killer, manslayer; 2. destruction.—Bosworth bookes-man, i. 237/39,43; cp. kookes-man, 1. 55
book-othe, i.232/395, book-oath boolish, iii.58/58, perhaps tumid, swelling, rounded
boome, i.66/122,1 suspect “ lodlyboome”
BEE
is an error of the copyist for “lodly loone.”—Brockie. log ?, dwarf boote, i.47/6, compensation, A.-S. bot bord, i.93/83, table
bord,	ii.372/837, side
i.213/27, boar, Bichard II.’s badge
bore,	i.452/967, ? lost borrowe, i.472/1612, surety borrowed, ii.532/161, rescued bote, i.474/1661, bit bourd, i.379/811, jest bourde, ii.557/10, merry tale bouted, i.374/651, bolted, sprang bowles, i.98/220, knobs
bowles, iii,287/293, bowls of wine bowne, i.218/113, prepare, address; ii. 298/57, dress; i.384/948, prepared;
iii.65/216, ready, prepared bowned, i.396/1325, made ready bowneth, i,219/145, goes, journeys bowsing, ii,54/61, free-drinking bradd, i.221/176, moved quickly, flew bradd, iii.63/175, to draw, to pull bradde, i.453/989, broadened, spread bradden, i.228/312, flew braggatt, ii.563/141, honey and ale fermented. See a recipe from the Haven of Health in Nares
braid, ii.381/1090, dropt, fell; ii.65/ 188, leapt
brake, ii.l 19/1112, cut up brake of fearne, i.27/11, in bracken or fern
brasyd, i. 115/655, embraced brawders, iii.59/63, embroideries bray, i.97/192, move quickly brayd, i.222/191, attack brayd, iii.360/1002, ? flourished about brayd, i.495/2349, instant, (on a) sudden
brayde, att a, iii.90/366, suddenly bread, ii. 105/740, breadth breade, ii. 533/187, pulled breaden, ii, 329/35, braided? break, ii.358/486, cut up ; see brake bred, i.213/24, spread out bredd, i.229/332, attack breme, i.92/36 ; iii.57/34, fierce breeml'ye, iii.71/364, fiercely, furiously . brest, speares in, ii. 240/63 ? not for rest but up .to the breast; so in Maleore’s Mort Darthur brether, ii.206/56, brethren breuelye, iii.68/283, bremelv.—P. ? brief-ly.-P.550
GLOSSARY.
BEE
brewice, ii.574/389, broth, pottage bringer-up, i.332/332 broche, iii.60/94, an ornament, jewel, clasp.—P.
brodinge, iii.6/63, brode, to prick. Gr.D.
—P. ? breadthe : cp. 1. 76.—F. broked, i.356/82, rejected, lost? broolce, ii. 388/1279, enjoy, possess broolce,, iii. 13/167, broke, i.e. enjoy.— P.
brotherlinge, i.426/134, nincompoop: britheling, worthless, a rascal. Cp. O. Eng. brothel.—H. Coleridge bruche, i.l84/58, brooch brushed, i.388/1075, spouted. Cp. the complaint water-brush, a vomiting of watery fluid
bryar, iii.26/188. Pronounced brere\ see. Levins, col. 209, 1. 16 bryke, i.232/401, ravine, Assure, breach or break in the surface, Dan. brcek: or, unploughed land, Du. braak. —Brockie
buchett, iii.345/634, budget buff, i.517/14, a leather coat buffe, i.83/76, ? for buske, arm builded, i. 27/11, beilded, sheltered: Old Norse bodi, place of shelter or refuge burgen, iii.59/71, burgeon, the same as bud
burne, i.91/12, man
burnet, ii.569/284. Fr. brunette, fine blacke cloth, whence, Aussi bien sont amourettes soubs bureau que sous brunettes: Prov. Loue playes his pranks as well in Cotes as Courts.— Cotgrave
. busk,i.91 ¡9; iii.47/843, to prepare, dress; a simple adoption of the deponent form of the Icelandic verb bua; at buast for at buasc contracted from at bua sig, to make oneself ready, dress oneself.— Wedgwood
busked, iii.97/575. Scot, buskit, dress’d, decked
busied, ii. 122/1202, hurtled, buslery, a tumult.—Halliwell but if, iii.67/254, unless.—P. butt, ii.232, note ®
by, iii.3/5, of; iii.27/242, about, concerning
by, shold by, should go by, hold to, i. 157/405
bydeene, i.472/1614, at once, forthwith bye, iii.56/16, abye, A.-S. abicgan. bygan the dese, i.l 15/602, took the
CHA
highest place at the table. See began byne, ii.86/160, pyne, punishment
cainell bone, i.387/1041, the clavicle or neckbone. See cannelle-boon in Babees Book Index
caltrappys, iii.537/113, Fr. chaussetrape: f. A Caltrop or iron engine of warre, made with foure pricks or sharp points, whereof one, howsoeuer it is cast, euer stands ’vpward.—Cotgrave can, i.455/1049, knowest; ii.429/353, know. “ I can sky 11 of a crafte or science. Je me congnois.. Thou cannest skyll of cranes dyrte, thy father was a poulter.”—Palsgrave, p. 475, col. 1 candle, i.248/4, ? caudle cankred, i.48/33, ill-tempered cantell, ii.430/388, corner, piece capull, i.214/33; ii.562/130; 567/234, W. keffyl, a horse carded, i.l25/9, played at cards carfull, iii.503/53, care-full carle, ii.559/47, churl, peasant carles, ii.576/452, churl’s Carlist, i.117/183,? carpe, i.212/5, tell
carped, i.216/83, uttered; iii. 66/231, complained
earned, iii.7l/347, pierced cast, i.369/491, device, trick causye, ii.428/320, causeway. Fr. chaussée, a woman that wears breeches, also, the causey, banke or damme of a pond or of a riuer
cease, iii.36/494, seize, give possession cercott, ii.421/138, surcoat certer, ii.428/335, certes chàffe, iii.103/42, ? for chuffe, a term of reproach
chaffing, i.56/55, heating chalenqeth, iii.l 32/123, Fr. chcdenger, to elaime, challenge
chalishing,i.38911116,bother, fuss. “ Sir Grray-Steeles desired that there should be * noe chalishing9 for his death, that is, no procession of priests at his funeral, no religious rites. Chalice, the communion cup. He did not want to be chaliced.”—Brockie champaind, i. 158/458, ? ornamented in some way
chandlers, ii.70/311 ; chandlours, ii.567 /248, candlesticks
chape, ii.582/606. “ I chape a sworde, or dagger. I put a chape on the she the.GLOSSARY.
551
CHA
* Je mets la bouterolle.’ What shall I gyve the to chape my dagger.”— Palsgrave
charJce-bord, iii.409/114, ? same as arche-bord, 1. 91
cheape, ii.539/369 ; cheepe, i.179/102, A.-Sax. cedp, a bargain cheere, i.446/768, state, condition cheeue, ii.563/152, thrive chest of tree, ii.461/1263, chestnut tree ? chiualrye, i.494/2314, chiualrous, magnificent, fighting choppes, ii.570/314, blows? christall, iii.75/446, kyrtle. ? petticoat christendome, i.452/962 ;	ii.369/753,
christening
Christentie, i.45/139, Christendom chune, ii.537/314, chin churle, iii.33,402, a slave, a vassal.—P. clemmed, i.225/258, starved: clem or clam, the latter is in Staffordshire the more common, the former considered the more correct. Clam'd is very hungry; Starved, very cold ; the two are never confounded, and starve is never used in connection with hunger.—E. Viles clergye, i.365/350 ; ii.488/2020, learning cliitt or clutt, i.15/18, clouted: see i.48 /12
clippeth, i.153/272, A.-Sax. clypian, to call
close, i.225/249, clewes, valleys clothes, 'ii. 134/1568, tablecloths clouted, iii.225/241, patched clowes, i.232/391, clefts in the sides of hills
coate-armor, ii.192/50, tabard cockebotte, iii.160/99, kockebotte for a shyppe, cocquet.—Palsgrave. Nassel-lette: f. A small skiffe, scull, or cocke-boat. Nasselle: f. A skiffe, wherrie, or cock-boat.—Cotgrave cockward, i. 65/94, 106, cuckold coice, iii.97/564. Qu. chose.—P. cold, i.70/198 ; 457/1125, knew cold, i.111/89 ; 385/980, did colled, ii.493/2151, curled colour, iii.60/89. Qu. collar combrance, i.448/825, encumbrance, ill-doing, stratagem comen, i.220/150, coming comment, i.29/47, read consent, convent, lot
comunye, i.66/125, communing, consultation
CUM
confounde, ii.386/1213, perish contrition, ii.547/585, lamentation cooasten, i.224/235, marched coparsonarye, i.275/64, coparceny coppe, i.28/20, head
cordiuant, i. 185/91, of Cordovan leather coste, ii.558/38, province? couer, ii.543/467, recover couett, ii.67/235, courtt? countenance, grimace, “ Wrinkeled as ones face is by makyng of a countenance, m. et f. fronce.—Palsgrave, p. 330, col. 2
counter, vb. i.358/144, encounter, fight . counter, sb. i.382/895, attack countred, iii.255/545, encountered course, corpes, i.462/1295,1297, corpse course ofwarr, a, ii.292/49, tilt, joust courtnolls, ii. 151/80, courtiers couthe, i.433/339, known cowle-tree, ii.440/680, cowlstaff, a big pole. Ir. tine, a Colestaffe or Stang; a big staffe whereon a burthen is carried betweene two on their shoulders.—Cotgrave cowthe, ii.557/14, knew coye, i. 233/414, man coyfe, ii.430/394, hood of mail coyle, ii.52/2, fuss. Fr. carymari, cary-mara. Fained words expressing a great coyle, stirre, hurlyburly, or the confused muttering of a rude com-panie.—Cotgrave
coyse, ii.53/29, ? coyle, fuss, or Fr. cause, chat, and thence carouse creame, iii.74/438, chrism, sacred oil * creepers, ii.151/68, lice cricke, ii.323/12, louse crinkle, ii.308/114 cristinty, i.41/48, Christendom croche, i.514/155, crouch crowde, ii.422/149, a kind of fiddle crownackles, ii.451/983, note; spearheads
crownall, ii. 451/993, coronel; see note \ p. 451
crownalls, ii.477/1712, spearheads crope, i.360/188, crept crowt, ii.308/114, curl up cryance, iii.7/82; MS. cryamce, fear;
Old Fr. criente, crainte cth for tch, i.23/73 ; ii.139/76, macth, i, 228/316
cuchold, ii.310/150,161, cuckold cumber, i. 197/416, distress, torture55 2
GLOSSARY.
CUR
cursing, i.435/415, state of excommunication, heathenness cut-tailed dog, i.20/17, note 2
Whistles Cut-tayle from his play, And along with them he goes. 1627.—Drayton’s Shepheards Sirena. ■cutted, i.27/10; i.29/44, short-froeked, generally curtal. Ur. Roussin: A Curtail or strong Herman horse.—Cot.
dain, i.366/371, ? corner, or hole, spying-place
dained, iii.66/226, ordained, -bade.— The context wants the meaning—was told to.—F. dale, ii.76/482, share dange, i.359/166, dashed, struck danger, ii.566/207, endanger danger, i.472/1611, power danger, i.47l/1598, difficulties, hesitation daredst, iii.74/419 cfowr, ii.73/395, hurt dayntye, iii.68/281, delight
i. 100/258, death. Mr. Peacock says, a Lincolnshire woman told him that she “ would rather be nibbled to dead with ducks, than live with Miss —; she is always a nattering.”—Mirk, p. 73
deane, i.444/693, injury ?
deared, iii. 69/312, destroyed, injured
dearfe, i.213/25; fierce, ‘ great, bold, O.N.
diarfr, Sw. djerf, strong, bold.’—Morris dearne, i.464/1356, A.-S. dearn, secret idecke, ii.403/58, pack of cards deede, iii. 134/184, death deene, ii.559/48, e’en, evening deere, i.364/320; iii.238/79, A.-S. dar, daru, destruction, injury deere, i.481/1879, injure degree, i.369/478; ii.103/674, the pas, place of honour
delay, ii.382/1107, an appearance: Pr. delay, in Law, a day given for appearance, or for the bringing in or amending of a plea.—Cotgrave delfe, i.445/732, delven, buried delicates, ii.285/145, delicacies deliuerlye, i.358/135, nimbly demeaning, ii.442/727, walk or ride; Pr. demener, to stirre much, mooue to and fro, remoue often
derfe, i.228/329, fierce; i.213/32, hard;
iii.70/325, cruel desease, ii.561/106, harm
DRA
device, at, i.159/485, elegantly; ii.240 /125, neatly, correctly deske, i.427/148, dais desoures, ii.451/989, disours, tellers desse, iii.40/629, dais, the upper part of the Hall, where the high table stood. —P.
dijformyd, i. 117/700, misshapen, put out of shape
dight, i.466/1434, make ready dight, iii.44/736, deck’d, dressed dight, i.355/54, conditioned dight, ii.543/468, used up dild, iii.107/122, yield it, requite dilffull, iii.257/603, doleful ditt, iii.4/22, grief, A.-S. deol, deceit, trouble ?
ding, ii.361/537, batter dinge, i.236/22, beat, knock dint, ii.423/183, 192, charge, thrust dint, iii.34/436, dent, impression, mark. —P. Dint, an impression or mark.— Phillips (by Kersey) ; and so Shak-speare:
His tenderer cheek receives her soft hand’s print,
As apt as new-fall’n snow takes any dint.
Venus and Adonis, 1. 53-4.—E. V. discreeme, iii.495/7, ? discreeue discreeue, iii.4/19, describe, discover dish-meate, ii.576/463, sweets ; ‘ beire dischmetes ar dressid with hony not claryfied.’—Eussell in Babees Book, 150/514
dispence, i.286/392, dispensation - ■ distance, ii,l 15/996, dispute, difference distayned, i.357/89, worsted, vanquished distere, ii.456/1107, destrier, war-horse disworship, i. 156/392 doe, i.449/877, put
doe away! ii.569/297, go along with you! dole, i.428/181, sorrow, misfortune donge, ii.361/531, battered donge, ii.384/1172, dashed, charged dop, iii.l03/21; dope, i.e. do open.—P. doubt, i.48/14; iii.74/439, fear douhtfidl, iii.259/649, fearful, dreadful, dought, ii.332/122, enjoyed doughtilye, iii.75/447, valiantly, resolutely, undauntedly downe, iii.25/183, perhaps done.—P. doxie, Pr. Gtueuse: f. A woman begger, a she rogue, a great lazie and louzie queane ; a Doxie or Mort.—Cotgrave drayned, i.221/174, dawnedGLOSSARY.
553
DRE
dreadfullye, i. 470/1563, in great dread dree, iii.73/397, endure, hold out, A.-S. dreogcm, Goth, driugan, to serve as a soldier, fight, to hold out in fighting. dright, iii.57/38, great, noble, fine, A.-S. driht
droughten, i.214/35, A.-S. drihten, the Lord, God
drouyers, ii.8/32, drivers of the deer druryes, iii.60/87, lovelinesses, graces dirye, iii.67/263 ; dry,drien,o[ld] w\ord\, suffer, Coles’s Eng. Diet. 1677.— F. dunge, iii.65/211, dang •dungen, i.213/32, beaten, Scotch cTmy, to beat, Isl. daengia.—Jamieson dunish, iii.133,160. ?dunny,deaf, stupid dunned, i.228/329, resounded
easing, iii.267/113. See note .ieasmend, i.361/222,230, attention, doctoring
easments, i.362/260, attentions, care eft, iii.434/75, quick, ready eke, for ‘ epe,’ bold, i.226/282 elke, i.226/282, ilke, same e^/fces, ii.577/468,wildswans,or?omelettes ernes, ii.431/434, uncle’s, A.-S. mm, uncle enfante, i.443/669, get with child by enginy, ii.29/36, scheming epe, i.223/220 ; 229/340 ; 231/371, bold -error, ii.423/196, running, haste; or anger ?
-es, 2nd pers. sing.4 slayes thou’ L20/21;
see gables
ethe, i.396/1352, easy
..euereche, i.486/2070, every
ewes, ii.437/601, eaves, overarching trees
ewyes, ii.75/450, ivies
examiter, iii.318/39, hexameter
e^e[w], i.28/39, hose?
failcine, i.43/90 faine, iii.79/69, glad faire, iii.75/450, fair thing falling, iii.197/5. This transitive sense of the verb to fall is common in Staffordshire, where people always speak of falling a tree instead of felling it.
— F.
fame, ii.80/12, evil report, disrepute famed, ii. 100/570, defamed /awe, ii.383/1137, vane, weathercock farden, iii.63/165, i. e. fared, passed, went, were.—P.
FFO
/are, ii.355/402, went /are, i.472/1608, doing, business, object /arr, i.232/404, ? fare, go farren, i.391/1165, fared fate,fute, i.30/51, whistle faugh, i.228/315, fallow ground. Scotch* fauch, “Tenants’ fauch gars lairds lauch.”—Brockie fay, i.94/92, faith, Er./oz fayrye, ii.472/1540, enchantment feare, i. 158/454; 178/72, company feared, i.378/756, frightened felly, i.325/123, savagely /em£, i.21/32, ward olf; ii.61/78, defend fended, i.365/346, guarded, fought fettle, i.221/163, in constant use in Staffordshire, ‘ to prepare or get ready.’— P.F.
fere, i.355/41, mate, lover /er?e, i.233/413, wonderful; ov ferse, fierce
/e£, i.149/166, fetch /e/£, ii.328/19, fetch fettled, i.221/183, set to work quickly fettled, i.231/388, prepared fettlen, i.227/304, get ready /ew, i.213/17, ? for fete, many ffaine, iii.31/340, glad ffaley, ii.588/766, ? ferley, wonderful ffare, ii.547/583, going-on, grief farley, ii.229/36, wondrous ffarrand, ii.572/353, 358, looking /d#e, iii.326/121, faxe, hair. A.-S. feax
ffayre, iii.59/64,i.e.fair thing, fair creature, see 1. 450.—P. ffeald, iii.285/239, a truss of straw.—P. feareth, iii.68/282, frighten ffeate, ii.545/533, natty, handy /eere, m, iii.44/763, together ffeiht, iii.502/25, fet, fetched ffeley, ii.451/994, savage? felled, ii.435/548, feeled, felt /’me, iii.77/20, companion ffetteled, ii.230/60, made ready fax, iii,266/93.	A.-S. /ea#, hair of
the head
ffleeringe, iii.73/412, ? fleinge fflome, ii.425/251, river fflomes, ii.577/468, cheesecakes flourished, ii.485/1913, ornamented fome, iii.263/5, sea, qu.—P. food, ii.385/1195, lady, dame ffoode, i.456/1084, imp, child ffootmanshipp, iii.531/25, running, speed /hr, iii.291/420, through554
GLOSSARY.
FFO
fforbott, iii.l 13/313, see Voi. I. p. 18, note. “ I fende to Goddes forbode it sbulde be so :	a JDieu ne play se
qu'aynsi il aduiengne.”—Palsgrave, p. 548, col. 1
fforceth not, iii.370/29, doesn’t mind ffore, iii.285/228, fared fforfare, ii.459/1200, destroy fforlore, iii.45/790, lost fforthinketh, iii.96/548, repents. “I repente me, I forthynke me. Je me repens.—Palsgrave, p. 686, col. 2 Forthink, o[ld], to be grieved in mind,— Coles's Eng. Diet. 1677 fforthought, iii.333/304, repented of forward, agreement, ii.461/1271 ffoitnded, ii.544/493, tried fraine, iii. 61/130, to ask or desire.— Phillips
frankish, ii.590/826, ? liberator French ffreake, iii.62/157, freke,	a human
creature.—Lye ffreane, ii.534/224, ask ffreeledge, ii.564/176, condition?; but freelage, an heritable property as distinguished from a farm.—Jamieson freelye, ii.385/1195, A.-S.freòlìo, noble, lordly
iii.265/76, ? frame: cp. ffrane, 1. 153
ffroterye, ii.577/468, fritters ffrowte, ii.588/771, hit, punch i.441/594, defiled
fllinge, ii. 276/118,124, defiling, dirtying flaugh, i.71/227, flew fleame, i.472/1624, A.-S. flyman, banish fleamed, i.435/426; ii.133/1526, banished
florences, i.393/1232; 396/1350; ii.89/ 238, florins
flyte, ii.322/9 ; 324/41, 57, scold, quarrel fooder, i.172/160, German fuder, a wine-tun. 1. 162, “God will send to us auger ” = God will enable me to tap you, draw your life blood.—Blackley. Ein fuder oder stückfass rheinischen weins, so sechs ohm oder zwey hundert und vierzig stübchen hält, a tun of Rhenish wine ; a great fat containing two buts or 240 gallons.—Ludwig fooder, i.216/94, A.-S. fo%er, a mass, load
force, i. 100/266, matter, consequence force, i. 288/455 ; need, necessity for doe, i. 157/408, destroy forefend, i. 100/277, forbid
GAR
forefendant, i.150/191, forfend, forbid forefore, i.91/33, vanquish ? forfowhte, iii. , ? see notes, tired out with fighting
Thus lasted longe that ilke Melle be-twene hym and Me full Sekerle, tyl that I was so forfowhte that non lengere stonden I Mowhte.
Seynt Graal, ii. 208, 1. 765 forlaine, i.464/1369, lain by, violated forlaine, ii.86/168, lain with, adultered with
forlore, i. 150/194, entirely lost formen, i.213/30; i.220/167; 369/492, foemen
forshapen, i.117/752, misshapen forth of, i.356/80, from forth-wise, i.444/714, forthwith forward, i.229/335, ? advance, attack; or, as in note 6
forwardes, i.l 14/536, agreements; A.-S.
foreweard, an agreement forward, ii.192/43, foreguard, advance-guard
fosters, ii.116/1037 ; ii.117/1058, for-
esters
fowle, i.223/231, bird fox, ii.54/43, make drunk fraye, that, i.365/341, at that seizure freake, i.214/50, warrior frened, ii.385/1201, frained, asked fronse, iii.366/last line, a sore in a hawk’s mouth
frythes’i.357/105, fords,passages, Germ. furth, furt; Scan, furd ; Swed. farj. —Brockie. cp. ryding places, i.383/ 937. Vadim a forthe, Bel. Ant. i.9, col. 1.
furbrished, i.391/1192, sorely bruised furley, ii.68/280, wonder furley, i.384/974; ii.68/275, wondrous fute, i.30/51, whistle, cp. Cleveland, whewt, whewtle, to whistle; to pipe as a bird does.—Atkinson futing, i.30/54, whistling i. 445/727, defile
gables, i.454/1027, gabbiest, talkest stuff and nonsense
gainest, iii.65/208, ¿/A, clever, handy, ready, dextrous.—Johnson gallyard, ii.579/530, a lively dance i.91/23 ; ii.564/173, make, cause garrison, i.484/1998, reinforcement ? garsowne, ii.474/1607, boy, youthGLOSSARY.
555
GAT
gate, ii.206/58, ford gate, iii. 2 7 9/38, begat </«^es, ii.229/46, ways, paths gaule, ii.306/41, gules, red gauelocJee, i.489/2138, staff, an iron crowbar or mace. Gothic gajlack, weapon, club.—BroeJcie gaynest, iii.73/412, quickest gengells, ii.288/213, gentle folk
i,	160/500, gentle, gracious gentles, ii.573/382,385, gentlefolk’s gentrise, ii.559/65, gentlemanlike behaviour
gentryes, i.159/461, gentrise, grace ghesting, i.64/66,68, lodging, entertainment
giffe, i.l69/85, if
i.450/907, sinned : A.-S. gyltan, to make or prove guilty ginne, i.239/88, trick girthers, i.385/995, girding leathers, straps
¿/me, i.519/81, if
gladedd, i.357/111, became glad, rejoiced
glased, ii.538/326, glanced, struck glashet, ii, 3 3 3/13 7, glanced, sprang glaue, i. 57/75, sword gleads, ii.568/264, kites ^¿eec£, i.65/113; iii.252/477, live coal glented, iii.72/384, glanced glenten, i.215/71, went quickly glode, iii.57/28, glided glaring, i.217/103, shining c/wew, iii.334/328, gnawed godly, i.215/55, goodly, well godsmen, ii.543/484, almsmen gods-penny, i.l76/20, 179/105, earnest-money
gogled, i.l6/26, waggled; iii.62/147,joggled, wagged, shook
chaines, i.509/13, servants who wore gold chains
ii.	373/859, dead i/oecZ, i.251/82, truly
gorgere, ii.478/1726, throat-armour
graine, ii.323/29, crimson
graine, i. 75/12, fork of a tree. See Mr.
Peacock’s note, i., see Notes graines, ii.570/319, prongs gramarye, ii.604/144, 164; 607, 265, magic
grame, i.441/614, get angry grame, ii.72/386, vexation, ii,448/893, torture
GRY
granado, ii.41/16, fire grenades into;
granado s5, 1. 20 grange house, i.338/482 grantesse, ii.346/163, agreement, pledge ? grasse, iii.279/64, fat graunty i. 114/531, agreement greathes, i.215/55, makes ready greaue, ii.91/311; 440/661, grove </ree, i.380/833; ii.346/154; first place, prize
greece, iii.92/421. Pr. graisse, fat greete, i.58/100, grit; i.357/109, gravel </reew (applied to a man’s face), i.356/69 </re^, iii.343/579, greeted griffon, ii.370/776 ; 371/800,805 ; see gripe
grill, ii.487/1995, fierce grinde, ii.336/25, polish gripe, i.148) 105, ypv\p, gryps, a griffin. A gryphe hyghte Griphes, and is accounted amonge volatiles, Deutero-nomi, xiiii. And there the G-lose saythe, that the grype is foure fotedde, and lyke to the egle in heed and in wynges. And is lyke to the lyon in the other parte of the body, and dwelleth in those hylles that ben called Hyperborei, and ben mooste enemyes to horses and men, & greueth them moste, and layeth in his neste a stone that hyght Sma-ragdus agaynste venemous beastes of the mountayne.—Treviso!s Barthol-omceus, bk. xii, ch. xix, leaf 171, col. 2, ed. 1535. See Mr. Euskin’s contrast of the ancient and modern sculptured griffin in his Modern Painters, iii. 106 fise, ii.439/648, horrible #n'%e,	i.467/1468;	469/1505,1510,
1513, A.-S. grislie, horrible, dreadful grisse, i.391/1179, A.-S. agrysan, fear, gryre, horror, terror griste, ii.540/389, ? power, A.-S. grinding
i.230/266, protection groomes, i.93/85, men; iii.26/204, 60/84
growden, iii.256/578, ? fighting grounding, i.57/75, ground, sharpened gryme, iii.65/225.	? foregrim, i.e. very
grim;	A.-S.	fury, rage;
grymetan, to rage
grype, i. 169/73 ; iii.63/173, griffin, see
gripe556
GLOSSARY.
GRY	HYN
gryse, ii.448/902, grey fur ? guests, i.232/402, Scotch, guest, ghaist, English, ghost.—Brockie guilt, i.l72/168,170, gilt gurde, i.216/93 ; Sc. to move with expedition and force.—Jamieson gurding, i.228/323, letting fly, shooting gynne, i.480/1854, engine; i.491/2223, wile, device
gysarmes, ii.457/1166, “guisarme, a lance with a hook at the side.”— Blanche
habergion, i.358/128; i.364/309, dim. of hauberk, the little throat-guard.— Blanche, i.l 10
hailow, i.l50/173, A.-S. ¿a%, holy hatch, i.l 10/65 ; iii.284/190, salute, O.N. heilsa, say “hail” to. ¿£M//56, or greete, salue. I halse one, I take hym aboute the necke, Jaccole.—Balsgrave, p. 577
hatched,i.217 ¡98; i.301/27 ; i.306/146—7;
372/581, saluted ¿dM, ii.13/180, drew handfasted, i.394/1274, betrothed hansell, ii.192/37, greeting, gift happen, i.359/146, fall, strike harbarrowes, ii.71/342, lodges harbor, ii.560/78 ; 581/573, lodging, entertainment
harborrowe, ii.69/294,300, lodging harke, ii.482/1851, hearken to harllot, i.152/260, scamp, worthless fellow
harlotts, i.445/726,737, loose fellows, scamps
harold, i.304/106, herald harrowed, ii.349/241, broke open and despoiled
harrowes, ii.73/414, breaks open and despoils
totf, tooke his owne to him, i.163/606, took courage
harvenger, i.38/5, harbinger, courier, v “ one sent on to prepare harbourage or lodgment for his employer.”— Wedgwood
hattell, i.224/237, nobleman ¿«W6, ii.579/530, hay, a winding country dance, a reel. It was also a winding in-and-out figure in a round country dance.—Chappell
hawere, i.149/15Ò, Fr. awir, possessions hawtinge, i.92/56, halting?
he, i.477/1757, they ¿6«<A ^«66 owe’s ¿or56 ¿¿5, i.358/124 ¿6«c£, iii.192/75, A.-S. hedfdian, to behead
headed, iii.321/8, beheaded heave, iii.63/158, hair ¿66^6, ii.305/18, a promise heathennest, i.63/56; heathinnesse, ii.l84 /125; heathynesse, i.498/3, heathendom
¿66i£6, iii.285/232, the lower half of a stable door
¿66, i.92/56 ; 147/102, high heede, iii.24/134, perhaps keep.—P.
¿6656, iii.139/63, he will.be, or must be heive, i.97/179, higher hend, ii.345/120, bid hend, i.152,244, gentle hendlye, i.427/147, gently hent, i.l 00/263, seized; i.28/29,35,caught, took
herrott, i.230/353, herald ¿6#, iii.355/877, promise; i.443 /666, 671, promised highinge, ii.l 10/876, haste ¿¿^¿¿, i.439/558, was named ¿m<2, i.159/463 ; i.l62/577, hend, gentle ¿¿5, i.387/1042, i.390/1153, ii.375/921, is ¿66, ii.489/2058, hold, stop hoglin, ii.360/529, dear little hog
iii.25/161, to its . . .hold, i.e. held.
—P.
hollen, i.109/55, A.-S. ¿o?6%, holly holte, iii.58/55, a wood, a rough place.
(Sax.) a small Wood, or Grove ; whence the Street call’d Holborn in London had its Name.—Bhillips (by Kersey). Fr. Touche debois. Ahoult; a little thicke groue or tuft of high trees, especially such a one as is neere a house, and serues to beautifie it, or as a marke for it.—Cotgrave home, iii.28/258, on whom homly, i.67/153, home, close, tight hony, i.l51/203, love, sweetheart hove, ii.473/1585, mud, dirt hose, i.67/153, cuddle houed, ii.383/1151, iii.31/358, halted houzle, sb. i.57/88; houzle, vb. i.172/ 178, to administer the Sacrament: A.-S. huselian hurt, i.67/153, heart hyde, i.362/263, a lady’s skin hynd, iii.61/107; hynde, iii.70/340, hend, gentle
hyndes, iii.68/279, servantsGLOSSARY.
55 7
IAC
iacke, iii. 415/255, leather tunic over the armour
i&rffaucon, ii.451/977, gerfalcon ¿0s£, ii.549/632, story letted, i.42/71, marched showily letters, ii.568/275, strutters «/, iii.203/174, even if «¿¿e, i.56/52, same (time); i.73/278 time
Imupetelasze, iii.300/118, qu. MS.—A1. himpettelaze, corruptly written for Immortalize.—P. incontinent, i.286/384, forthwith
ii.455/1105, Fr. m. Indico; light Blue, Blunket, Azure inestimable, i.288/461, not to he estimated or valued
ingling, iii.314/15, perhaps jingling inholder, i.283/78, innkeeper ¿^0, ii.563/136, house insame, ii.434/501, together: A.-S. sum, together
intertalked, ii.35/2 iollye, ii.295/130, pleasure ioyinge, i.230/352, joining «>70, i. 177/54, angry, A.-S. ^
«r70, i.361/232, dread ¿5, ii.423/188, are «s, i. 155/341, his
« (for the possessive ’5) i. 161/548 ishueles, i.290/513, issueless ishulese, i.274/31; i.290/496, issueless As?, iii.45/780, I’ll, I shall ¿tf, ii.218/2 ; 219/30; 223/145, I’ll # and «#, as genitives, for #s, ii.248/34 ii.251/131
ludaslye, ii.258/96, Judasly, traitorously
iumpe, iii.369/13, lust.......due, right,
even, jumpe, levell, straight.— Cot-grave. See Othello, A. ii. s. 2. luster, ii.292/62, jouster 7-w«s, i.19/10; 333/343, &c.: every 7 is hyphened to its m's wherever this word is printed, under the belief that it stands for the A.-S. adverb certainly; but in the passage where it is used with us, “ as I wis,” ii.583 /627, the words are of course separate, a pronoun and verb
i-tm, i.146/59, A.-S. getvis, certainly.
But see “ as I wis ” ii.583/627 mw#, i.453/981, A.-S. gewitan, under-- stand
M0/^0, iii.415/255, leather tunic over the armour
KYT
/uu7, i.311/296, a sleeveless tunic yVy, ii.334
ii 422/155, merry jorney, iii.239/88, a day’s work jousts and tournaments, i.85/9, note 1 ywy, i.196/397
kayred, ii.62/117, passed over keere, iii.74/436, turn keered, i.229/333, turned; A.-S. cerran Ml, ii.67/255; 502/12; 503/44, a net for a lady’s hair, for Bredbeddle’s wife
kempe, ii.606/219, kemyerye man, ii.
605/215, magician ? kempes, ii.527/5, warriors kempys, i.90/6, A.-S. kempa, cempa, a soldier, warrior
ken, iii.62/131, to inform. See IF«#, 1. 120
kend, ii.457/1152, taught, showed kere, i. 229/347, return Asm#, i.222/192; iii.61/118, turned ketherinckes, i.219/131,135; 230/351, Cateranes, Katheranes, Highland robbers; Gael. and Ir. caetharnach, a soldier.—Jamieson. Highland or Irish soldiers. Gaelic, cath-fheara, fighting-men, warriors, Scotch caterans, kerne.—JBrockie kin, ii.233/143, relation kindle care, ii. 5 3 9/3 60 kirtle, iii. 180/100. Kyrtle is not upper petticoat, but our modern gown, a waist and petticoat. A kyrtle and mantle completed a woman’s dress. —<7m>. Rev. Jan. 1795, p. 49 kissed, i 449/857, the whore’s euphuism for having connection with her, current in London as well as in the North.—Atkinson, kithe, ii.233/143, acquaintance 7^0, iii. 74/436, A.-S. 0y8, a region;
cyti&e, a home, native country kithen, iii.73/392 knaue, i.438/511, male knaue, iii.23/97, a boy, a male child;
ii.547/573, page, lad knouledge, i.163/585, acknowledge, con-
7*#, iii.l30/77
kyreth, iii.66/230, A.-S. cyrran, to turn kythe, iii.58/47, region, A.-S.558
GLOSSARY.
LAB
lahordd, ii.69/301, worked, travailed labored, ii.85/134, toiled through, performed
labored, i.307/185, sailed lack, iii.69/303 ; laeheth, iii.69/298, A.-S. leeccan, gelceccan, to take, catch, seize iii.190/26, conceal laine, ii.75/469, concealment laine, i.452/970, lay ?
We, i.300/7, fight
We, iii.69/302, play, sport. To We, to play.—North Country Words, 1674
We, i,363/281, fine linen. Laecken is said to he Flemish for a kind of fine linen used for shirts, bleached very white, perhaps milk-white. The German lei-laken, Dan. leie-lagen (leie = bed), Swedish badd-lakan — bed-sheet. Dutch and German taken, cloth in general.—Brockie lambes woole, ii. 152/105, a drink of ale and roast apples
land, ii.226/214, lord, like state, noble lanke, i.226/269, ? lean, thin, poor (is their praise)
largnesse, iii.293/478, largesse lase, i.451/934, lies
laten; Cornish dial, lateen, tin, iron tinned over:
“Well then, down a great shaft goes the man in lateen” the ghost of Hamlet’s father in armour.—Spec, of‘Cornish Dialect,^. 18 lathe, ii.593/896, barn ; not A.-S. Lee%, Lathe, district or division peculiar to Kent
lauding, ii. 59 3/895, praise laueracke, i.383/922, lark lauge, ii.532/155, laugh launche, ii.427/311, lance, thrust; ii.430/ 386, rush
launderer, ii.450/965, washerwoman; Fr. lavandiere, a launderesse or washing woman laus, ii.37/5,6, ?
lawnde, iii.92/419, a clear space in a forest.—F. Lawne, a plain, untilled ground.—Buttokar’s Diet. 1656. Not far from here—-just on the border of Shropshire in fact, is a considerable tract of waste land. It is very rugged and uneven, with pits or pools here and there, some containing water. It is studded with gorse bushes and other prickly shrubs : a more unlevel
LEE
place you could scarcely find, yet this tract is called Oaken Lawn. Oaken is the name of a village not far off. The old dictionaries define laund “a piece of ground that never was tilled,” some add (in a forest). I was much surprised when I first saw the place and heard its name—nothing more unlawnlike in appearance could be conceived.— VUes lay, iii.9/115, law
layeth, iii.66/228, loathsome, deadly layine, ii.436/575, concealment, reservation
layke, i.231/380, A.-S. lac, play, sport layne, i.493/2282, concealment lazar, lazer, i. 167/11,13, leper layned, ii.277/139, leaned lead, i.197/412; leade, i.99/239,255, cauldron, copper; Gaelic luchd, a pot, kettle.—Morris lead, ii.375/921; leade, i.359/162 ; 388/ 1069, leaved, left lead, ii.528/47, carry as a load lead, ii.585/671, swear leadand, i.393/1253 ; i.397/1362,1372, leading
leaetenant, i.319/27, lieutenant leake, iii.67/249, A.-S. Ihc, play, sport leame,' ii.546/546; leames, i.228/309, A.-S. leoma, ray of light, beam, flame leane, iii.214/74, Old Norse leina, tp conceal. Lecme is a Cheshire pronunciation for layne, conceal.—Dr. Bobson
tearing, i.182/5, A.-S. leer, lar, lore, learning ; leeran, to teach lease, ii.504/69, ? leash, thong, cord. Bowe, arrowes, sworde, bukler, home, leishe, gloues, stringe, and thy bracer. (‘Gere’that ‘aGentylmansServant’ is not to forget. Fitzherbert’s Husbandry, 1767, p. 87)
leasinge, i.439/547, iii.96/528, lying, lies
leath, ii.297/10, soft, supple lee, i.92/47, ? lea, meadow leeches, i.361/224, doctors leeching, iii.5/38, from the French alleger, to asswage, mitigate, allay, solace leed, i.318/10 ;	319/26; iii.69/315 ;
leede, i.215/58, A.-S. leod, a man ^e/^,iii.95/514; Fr.Cher: m.Deare,leefe, well-beloved
leete, i. 149/140, let go, lose leeue, i.370/514, dearGLOSSARY.
559
LEE
leeve, i.56/58, believe leggs, ii.154/158, curtseys, bows lemman, i.152/235; ii.299/88, love, sweetheart; i.444/713, mistress, concubine
lene, i.305/120, 134, conceal; Old Norse leyna, to hide
¿owg-o, i.361/221, linger, delay lenging, i.369/463, ? delaying, wanting, refused
lent, ii.388/1268, ? landed, or remained lent, iii.64/188; 239/97, short for lenged ; thus were lent=abode, dwelt; ¿ewe?, to dwell, remain, tarry.—Haiti-well
lerd, ii.424/211, learnt; A.-S. l&ran, to teach, instruct
¿ere, iii.68/170, countenance, complexion ¿esse, i.439/558, lies
¿eft, ii.377/984; iii.245/256, hinder. I let, I forbyd, or stoppe one to do a thinge. Je eohibe.—Palsgrave Jett, i.359/151, leave; i.365/334, left letted, i.l58/446, hindered ¿ewer, i.94/95, liefer, rather lidder, iii.67/249, A.-S. ¿¿#re, ¿y<Ser, bad, wicked
liggand, i.365/334, lying i.l71/150, alighted
Ughtfoote, ii.151/85 ; 152/89 ; 156J208, venison
lighted, ii.283/95, alighted, dismounted ¿¿7^ aft a ¿oft,i.219/139, determined by lot
light woman, i.443/660 ; 444/722, prostitute
lightt, ii.60/54, for ¿^¿^e, joint lin, i.55/40, cease, A.-S. linnan. If Wantonis knew this, she will neuer ¿?w scorning.—JFft awi? Wisdome, p. 30, 1. 30
¿¿w wer light, i.373 597, limb and lith (joint, and then body ?) lin nor light = lung nor light. Lungs aril lichts are a common term in Scotland for what butchers call the pluck, the other intestines being comprehended under gut and ga\ But the true reading here appears to have been limb nor lith.—Broclcie
lind,	ii.455/1099, lime-trees; Fr. Til: m. The Line, Linden or Teylet tree. —Cotgrave
line,	i.362/251, linen, petticoat line, ii.580/555, linen
LOS
list, i.38/1, A.-S. hlystan; lithe, Icel. hly%a, to listen
list, iii.57/37, ? for lift, left, left alone list, i.149/164, desired; A.-S. lystan, to desire, covet, list lite, i.212/9, few
lith, i.479, ym and lith, a common expression in Scotland, in speaking of full-length statues or portraits,—
“ Of gude free-stane, in limb an’ lith.’ It is literally limb and joint = bone and sinew. From lith come the English words lithe, lither, &c. The root signifies smooth, supple.—JBrockie lithe, ii.373/872, A.-S. li$e, mild, gentle lithe, iii.77/17, attend, hearken, listen lither, i.249/33, 250/47, wicked liuer, i. 17/46, and note1, nimble. Quycke or delyver of ones lymmes, agil, deliure.—Palsgrave. I foote a daunce or morisque, I shewe myselfe to be deluver of my lymmes in daunsyng.— Ibid. p. 553, col. 2 Utterance, ii.219/31, pay liuernes, ii.532/170, nimbleness liverr, i.432/306, wages, pay, Fr. livree liuerye, ii.545/536, allowance of food liueryes, ii.580/552, allowances of meat and drink for the night Hues, iii.9/115, leeves, i.e. believes liuings, i.370/508, properties liuor, ii.219/36; 220/53, deliver lode, on, ii.l 1/123, heavily lodly. i.66/122 ; lodlye, iii.63/162 ; 283/ 182, loathly
lodlyest, i.l54/324, most loathly or ugly lome, i.l68/47, man, object longe of, iii.325/116, cp. Cotgrave’s “A toy ria pas tenu. Thou wert no hind-erance . . it was not long of thee.” longed, i.226/280, iii.73/394, belonged longed, i.l44. We talk in Cleveland thus: not only “a dog belonging his master,” but his master “ blonging, longing his dog.” “ And with him the dog belonging him” would be everyday Cleveland. I believe there is also a form leng, tarry, stay.—A. longed, iii.58/60 62/136, abode, dwelt; A.-S. lengian.
loofe, i.229/336, A.-S. lof praise lope, i. 17/43, 44, leapt losse, i.226/269 ; iii.69/305; ii.85/132, 443/719, ¿05, praise, fame; ii.416/23, reputation560
GLOSSARY.
LOB
losty, iii.505/99, ? lusty or lofty lote, i.471/1567, lighted, alighted lothelich, iii.69/303, loathsome louge, ii.374/883 ; lough, ii.384/1163-lought, i.190/215, laughed ZuwZ, i.95/142, blow loved with, for loved by, i. 153/265 low, i.78/70, hill ZowcZe ¿miZ sfo'ZZ, ii. 114/990 lowe, ii.235/186, hill lowte, i.102/316, A.-S. hlutcm, to bow;
ii.	75/456, stoop; lowted, ii.460/1243,
iii.	59/70. ^ Ao, with head bending, that is, reverently stooping
. or louting.—Florio, p. 4 ZowZe, i.375/672, abuse, blackguard lowtest, i.162/562, most humble Ze«?£ZZ, ii.402/38, ? lumpryd, i. 114/555, lolling lurden, iii.85/242. Lourdant'. m. A sot, dunce, dullard, grotnoll, jobernoll, blockhead; a lowt, lob, lusk, boore, clown, churle, clusterfist; a proud, ignorant, and unmannerly swaine.— Cotgrave
lyed, i.151/217, lay
Zyer, ii.448/903, shoulders, body; A.-S.
lira, the flesh, muscles lynde, iii.90/376. Lynde, tre. T«ZZ«. prompt, parv.—Tilia, a tree bearing fruit as great as a bean, round, and in which are seeds like to anise seeds. Some call it linden or teil-tree.— GrouldmarHs Diet. 1664 lyne, a, ii.228/6 ; of Lyne, ii.231/88, of the line or linden tree lyre, ii.493/2151, 568/255, body lyte, i.434/385, little lythe, listen to, ii.527/3 lythe, i.480/1860, A.-S. Zi$, a limb, joint
magre, iii.367/9, Fr. malgre, illwill maidenhead, ii.343/74, maiden state mailes, i.386/1009, plates of mail maisterye, ii.382/1104, being the best j ouster
make, ii.274/74, 82, mate, match, love makeles, i.214/46, matchless; A.-S. maca, a mate
maklesse, i.227/292, matchless mammetts, ii.466/1383, images of idols man, iii.144/213; 238/82, maun, i.e. must pnargarett, ii.449/941, pearl mangerye, iii.268/168, eating, feasting
MIS
manhood, i.450/883, a man ; i.457/1121, reputation
manner, ii.585/678 ; 590/802, dwelling-place
margdrett, ii. 449/941, pearl
men, i.233/415, men of the March or Border
masked, i.212/3, ? maked mastery, i.99/226, superiority; or for mystery, trade, tricks of trade, Fr.
mestier
masterye, ii.133/1538, power, sovereignty
masteryes, ii.l 16/1026, conquering; ii. 232/10.7, game ?
ii.387/1237, A.-S. mceg, son, kinsman
iii.254/524, me. In and near Newcastle, Staffordshire, me is to-day pronounced may. — V. meane, i.102/332, make mention, tell meanye, iii.60/98. Fr. Mesnie: f. A meynie, familie, household, household company, or servants.—Cotgrave meate, ii.545/528, food meate-fellow, i.393/1256; ii.572/347, companion at table
meaten, ii.353/328 ; iii.99/633, measured meete, iii.225/242,	A.-S. “ micle and
mdtetegreat and small meetter, i.361/222, more need mete, ii.86/180, mingling, adultery mell, ii.59/37, meddle, speak meny, i.222/194, following, host, army merke, ii.561/103, dark merke, i.93/69, A.-S. mire, darkness merlion, i. 169/82; 171/128, merlin, the smallest kind of hawk met-yard, i. 58/104, measuring-rod midd, iii.89/343, middle, middst middlearth, i.92/40, earth, this world Millaine, i.359/169, Milan steel and'work min, iii.282/140, mention
mind,	i.227/292, remembrance
mine,	i.214/34, mention minge, i. 319/23, mention, say minged, iii.7/94, mentionedst minion, i.63/45, spruce
minned, iii.71/349. The alliteration and sense both show it should be nemned. nem is miswritten min.—iSk. mint, ii.l30/1444, minded, aimed mise, iii.340/493 : Fr. mise, expense, disbursement
misken, ii.324/39, forget misnurtured, ii.569/301, ill-bredGLOSSARY.
561
MIS
miss aide, i. 446/7 78, abused (her sister like mad)
miste, i.76/25, miss, omit molatt, iii.279/57, mullet monand, ii.277/156, moaning mood, i.57/85, help moods, ii.l 1/123, for woode, wild moone, ii.381/1096, month more, i.232/398, hill mores, iii.57/40, moors. Mores or maurs, a word used in the northern parts of England for high and open places ; in other parts, it is taken for low and boggy grounds.—Phillips (by Kersey) morespikes, iii.253/493, a large pike. mote, i.222/199, may mould-wcirpe, i.303/79, mole. See that there be no moulclye warpes castyng in the medowes. 1539, Fitzherbert’s Surveyenge, chap. xxv. p. 78, ed. 1767 mountenance, i.373/620, amount, quantity
musters, iii.68/277, devices, tricks myn, i.231,295, say; i.328/231, mention myny, i.386/1025, ? for many (and many for mail)
h~m, ii.65/note 1 naked, iii.432/14, unarmed narr, ii.538/339, nearer nay, i.427/142 ; 449/880, ne, not neave, i.SO^S, fist, O.N. hnefi nebb, iii.63/169. The whitish horn-like knob at the tip of the beak of a duck or goose is, in Staffordshire, called the neb.— V.
neere-hand, i.362/246, nearly, almost. hand is the corruption of an old termination.—Morris neere hand, i.359/158, close new-fangle, ii.306/35 nicked, i.215/53, refused nille, ii.402/37, needle nithing, ii.593/880, niggardly noble, iii.537/120, nobility nomen, i.362/255, maimed, deprived of one finger	*
nomm, iii.32/399, taken, undertaken, or taken upon him
nones, iii.34/443, ffor the nones, made on purpose for this adventure.—P. wo^,ii.484/1897, ? for rote, ‘dulcimers or dowble harpe called a roote, barbitos.’ —Huloet, 1552, in Halliwell
PAL
num, 156/363, dazed, stupified, slow; “a num hand”=a slow, fumbling workman: “ noo, num heead, wherestee gannan ? ” =Now, stupid, &c. Cleveland dialect.—A.
nume, i.480/1853; iii.23/110, took; Sax.
niman, to take nursery, ii.450/966
nurterye, ii.96/466, nurture, training, good manners
obaid, i. 149/163. Er. obeir, to yeeld vnto submissiuely, to be subiect vnto.— Cotgrave.
obayd, i.162/577; i. 163/603, bowed of, iii.61/112,by; ii.422/169, for; i.148 /134, ii 267/35, 369/485, on; i.362/ 243, off
on, i.387/1049, an, if on live, iii.29 2/454, alive opposed, i.437/496; 444/718; 448/848 and note 4, apposed, questioned or, i.163/590; iii.22/72; iii.71/367, ere, before
ordinance, ii.41/21 ; iii.253/487. Er. Artillerie, f., Artillerie, Ordnance.—
Cotgrave
ore, ii.468/1445, mercy oste, iii.58/57, host
ostler, i.382/910 ; i.389/1124, ? chamber-lain, or horse-keeper other, iii.6/65 ; iii.289/361, next. ouerfrett, ii.68/272, studded ouerhand, ii.427/293, upper-hand, victory ought, iii.391/11, out, interj. out-^-out, i.155/336, extremely outbraved, ii.10/81 outcept, ii.563/156, except out-horne, iii.89/345, ? nouthorne, a neat’s horn. Nowt cattle. WriqMs Gloss.—
8k.
outrage, i.422/655, copulation, rape. Er. muiere: Malapert, outragious, euer doing one mischiefe or other.—Cotgrave
outrake, ii.222/129, excursion outsyde, iii.143/172, on one side: the expression is still used in Northamptonshire.—P.
owne, (he is in owne), iii.373/41, ?
paine, ii.94/389, pains, endeavour pcde, i.93/81, pall, hangings. L.pallium
O O
YOL. III.562
GLOSSARY.
PAL
pallett, ii.582/594 ; 588/750, scull-cap pane, ii.370/793, skin pannell, ii. 155/174, the treeless pad or pallet, without cantle, with which an ass is usually rode. “ Pannell to ryde on, hatz,panneau.” Palsgrave. See Tusser, p. 11.—Halliwell paramour, i.149/142, ii.60/47, in love, in affection, as a lover 'parie, i.502/120, parley part, iii.292/454, depart partake, iii.506/132, to admit, to share: to extend participation patten, i.513/136\patent,.514/153, grant by letters patent pattering, ii.307/82, mumbling pay, i.66/129; 96/165,pleasure; ii.476/ 1668, satisfaction payment, ii.575/428, spiced paynture, ii.476/1681, painting pee, i.81/33, piece
peece, iii.42/700, a cup. I don’t like to be too positive about anything ; but, with respect to “ a piece of wine” I still believe that “ piece ” in that connection means—if not a cask (its proper meaning)—at least a vessel of greater capacity than what we now understand by cup.
“ Une piece de vin, a piece—a cask— of wine.” Tarver’s [excellent] Diet. Phraseol., &c.
“ Piece, s. for cask, or vessel of wine. The expression is borrowed from the Prench, in which language it is still used in that sense.
‘ Home, Lance, and strike [i. e. tap] a fresh piece of wine.’ E. and PI. Mons. Thom. v. 8.” Nares’s Glossary.—Eyce peeces, iii.327/149, cups:
The keruer anon withouten thou3t Vnkouers be cup at he hase brou3t. Into be couertoure wyn he poures owt. Or into a spare pece, withouten doute Poke of Cortasye, in Babees Book, p. 325,1. 792
peere, iii.4/16, peer, equal, mate, match peertly, i'218/126, quickly, readily; peart, brisk, lively.—Halliwell.	It’s
not pertly, but boldly, straightforwardly. ‘ ‘ A bonny, pawky, peert, lahtle chap,” said a regular Yorkshireman to me one day about my eldest child, a baby boy of 10 or 12 months, who crowed, and chuckled, and laughed at the speaker’s homely good-humoured-
POT
looking face, “a handsome, lively bold little fellow,”—not afraid of strangers, in other words.—Atkinson penman, i.312/316, secretary, scribe pentardhye, iii. 125/12, pentateuch perish, ii.460/1247, pierce pertlye, i.222/198, quickly pesanye, ii.478/1726, gorget? peytrelle, i. 351, horse’s breastplate picke, i.332/316, pitch picklory, i.36/16, a colour fight, i. 147/102, pitched pight, i.284/332, planted, fixed pight, iii.35/458, struck. Torre, to put, to set, to lay, to place, to pight.—Florio’s Ital. Diet. 1611 pUeefforke, ii. 570/319, pitchfork. And if the grasse be very thycke, it wolde be shaken with handes, or with a shorte pykforke. Fitzherberf s Husbandry, p. 25, ed. 1767 pinder, i. 32/1. And if thy horse breake his tedure, and go at large in euery man’s corne and grasse, then commeth the pyndtr, and taketh hym, and putteth hym in the pynfolde, and there shall he stande in prison, without any meate, vnto the tyme thou hast pay de his raunsome to thspynder, and also make amendes to thy neygh-bours for distroyenge of theyr corne. Fitzherberfs Husbandry, ed. 1767, p. 95
pine, ii.297/31; 298/51, difficulty,trouble pinn, i.249/38; 250164, boss or knob y?wm,ii.331/98; 297/35; 298/54; 299/93, ? high point, or fancy, humour pith, i.359/149, strength, vigour planere, iii.31/363, full play, i. 150/183, copulation play, i.443/683 ; 444/703, fornicate pleasure, ii.336/34, give pleasure to plee, i.386/1025, fold plewed, iii.223/195. Fr. plier, to plait, plie, bend, turne, wrie.—Cotgrave pockye, ii.45/35, very polaxis, ii.245, note, col. 2, ? tax-collectors : ,(i And have wynked at the pollyng and extorcion of hys unmeasurable officiers.”—Hall’s Union, 1548, in Halliwell.
pomell, i. 147/103, knob, apple-like ornament
posstee, ii.490/2063, power potewer, ii.305/21; ? bag, case, or—iii. 47/866—a pocket or pouch. It mayGLOSSARY.
563
POU
be from poke, or palk, both forms of pouch. See note in Piers Ploughman's Crede on Pow^he in the glossary.—8k. pouthered, iii.126/50, salted poynt of time, in, i.387/1060, near time’s up, nearly done for poyntment, ii.533/200, pledge praisment, i.l53/289, praise, bragging; i. 162/561, boast
praty, i. 115/616, very, extremely present, i.62/72, present himself to, see note.4
prest, i.485/2032, quickly prestlye, iii.64/203, readily price, i. 485/2021, ? prize or praise prick, iii.97/582, ? the wooden pin in the centre of the target prickes, ii.232/114, long-rajige targets? In shooting at buts, or broad arrow marks, is a mediocrity of exercise of the lower part of the body and legs by going a little distance a measure-able pace. At rovers or pricks, it is at his pleasure that shooteth, how fast or softly he listeth to go: and yet is the praise of the shooter neither more nor less, for as far or nigh the mark is his arrow when he goeth softly, as when he runneth.— The modernised 1834 edition of Sir Thomas Elyot's Book named the Crovemour, 1564, A.D. p. 91
prime, ii.529/61; iii.87/286, four A.M.
in summer, 8 in winter priuitye, i.461/1252, secret prize, ii.352/299, the call blown when a hart was killed
proched, i.228/325, progged, jobbed, pricked
quarrell, i.511/78, questions quell, i.438/499 ; ,453/994, A.-S. cwelian, to kill
quell, i.472/1601, killed queme: I queme, I please or I satysfye. (Chauser in his Caunterbury tales.) This wordeis nowe out of use.—Palsgrave, 1530 (ed. 1852) querry, ii.8/41, quarry quest, i. 196/393, jury; iii.86/275, search; searchers collectively, also an impanel’d jury. See Johnson.—P. quicke, i.443/659, alive quilletts, ii.l87/80, quibbles quintfull, iii.62/155, quaint?
REU
quitt, iii.251/443, quite, requite.
race, i.231/385, rush; if it is not a misreading for care •
radd, iii.288/327, furious, O. Fr. roide, fierce
radlye, i.221/179, A.-S. hrmdlice, immediately, speedily railinge, iii.72/376, gushing Raines, i.364/305, fine linen or cloth made at Rennes in Brittany raines, i.384/975, reins raked, i.221|168, Sc. rai/c, to move expeditiously.—Jamieson random, iii.34/445, precipitation randome, i.478/1820, violence range, i.381/856, wrang, wrung ranger, i.338/475
rasen, i.398/1422, overthrew, destroyed rason, i.364/212, arson, bow (of a saddle)
ratch, ii.454/1076, 1081, a sporting dog raught, i.385/978, reached, handed rave, iii.27/219, rathe rawnke, iii.219/94. (See note.) rdwstye, ii.236/224. ? Sc. rawlie, moist, damp
rayed, ii.531/145, arrayed rayled, i.93/8, decked, i.213/26, adorned, A.-S. hr (eg el, a garment.
To a chamber she led him vp alofte, Ful wel beseine, there-in a bed ry$t softe,
Rychly abouten apparailed Withe clothe of golde, all the floure
irailed
Of the same, bothe in lengthe and brede.
The Story of Thebes, quoted in Domes-tic Architecture, v. iii, pt. 1, p. Ill rayling, iii. 57/24, decking, glorious reacheles on, ii.234/151, careless of reade, i.232/404, ordered rebound, ii,108/812, blow, thrust recreate, ii.564/161, home reede, i.l57/411, counsel, A.-S. rad reeme, i.467/1466, A.-S. ream,rem, cream religious, ii.542/438, monks renegatoe, ii.45/25, renegade renisht, ii.601 /29, 30, got ready, harnessed, arrayed
repayre, ii.564/164, dwelling, abode esse, i.446/780, rush, violence retyre, i.518/53, retreat reuarted, ii.548/605, recovered
ö o 2564
GLOSSARY.
REW
reward, iii.366/3 (from bottom), look ribble, ii.422/151, a small fiddle played by a bow
riche, iii.75/455, ? rule, control. A.-S. ricsian. Or, riche = rithe, rihte, set right.—Sk.
ridge, ii.359/493 ; 367/708, back riggs, i.219/143, ? rinckes, men; Scotch rinks, rings, ranks, Grerm. reih-en.— Brockie
right, i. 389/1103, righted right-wise, iii.236/8, righteous, A.-S.
rihtwis
ring, i.227/303, man rise, ii.464/1340; iih 189/8, branch, bough, A.-S. hris, the top of a tree, a thin branch; iii.59/66, a twig—-G-erm. reis
riue, ii.460/1231, rife, frequent
riued, i.62/32, arrived, travelled
rocher, i.233/412, rock
rockUt, ii.40/6, outer coat
roken, iii.336/399, revenged
romans, ii.366/684 ; 380/1066, romance
rooke, iii.290/370, a ruck, a heap
i.383/923, reeks, mists, vapours, Scotch, rooks, thick mists, {Jamieson), from Dutch, rook, Scotch, rook, reek, Swedish, rok, riuk, Danish, rog, ryg, A.-S., rec, reoc, Icelandic, reik, Grerm. ranch.—Brockie
rote, “ An instrument of the harp kind, resembling in form an ancient lyre. See one in Popular Music, ii. 767.” Chappell
rothe, i.370/513, wroth roughe, ii.560/70, rough, stormy rought, ii.441/701, reached, hit rought, ii.67/236, reached, took in, understood
rought, i.384/966, wrought, ii.374/878; iii.66/239
round (bowstrings), iii.86/270 rounded, i.44/107, whispered, A.-S.
runian, to whisper rouse, ii.64/160, boast rowe, iii. 142/139, row, roll rowe, ii.548/606, be at peace rowed, i.391/1181; 392/1217, redness, gore
rowne, ii.561/99, whisper rowned, i.321/77, whispered rowning, ii.578/494, 497, 501, whispering
rowte, ii.583/619, blow, crack: cp. rowte as a verb:
SCA
Fresly smyte thy strokis by-dene, And hold wel thy lond that hyt may be sene;
Thy rakys, thy rowndis, thy quarters abowte,
Thy stoppis, thy foynys, lete hem fast rowte.
On Fencing with the Two-handed Sword, Eel. Ant. i. 309 rowze, i.154/304; 155/358, boast rud, i.361/217 ; 379/795, ruddy cheek rudd, ii.306/51; iii.59/66, complexion, A.-S. rudu, ruddiness rudlie, i.221 /172, radlie, quickly rudlye, i.382/899 ; iii.71/355, radlye, quickly; ii.63/147, readily rule, i. 155/334, measure, disposition run, ii.557/14, round? ryalte, iii.534/12, royal host, army ryke, ii.568/263, kingdom
sacring, i.161/526, consecration of the elements at the mass sadd, ii.532/168, firm, fixed sadd att assay, iii.244/233, stedfast in trial
saddest, i.215/59, most stable, trustworthy
sadlye, ii.380/1050, firmly; iii.70/322, seriously, composed, still.—P. safteye, iii.128/32, reward promised said, ii.92/336, essayed, tried saine, iii.79/74, said: common in Staffordshire, but pronounced more as if written sen.— V.
sail : were sailed, for had sailed, i.95/120 salle, i.385/996, saddle salt, ii. 181/4, salt-cellar sand, i.160/518, went sandall, i. 146/69, thin silk or linen sarazen, i.425/73 ; 479/1829, Saxon sarke, i.359/174, shirt sarpendines, iii.253/489, Fr. serpentine, the artillerie, called a serpentine or basiliskoe
saute, iii.533/6, assault sawes, i.109/225, sayings say, ii.276/128, essay, try say, iii.45/774, saw sayke, iii. 105/75, such zvdclech, i.221/170,? destructive, harmful, but see i.224/243 scantlye, ii.197/184, scarcely scarlotts, i.223/210, for ‘harlots,’ rascalsGLOSSARY.
565
SCA
scarsnesse, i.307/178, scarcity, want scattered, i.224/243 ; see 221/170 scorke, ii.12/143, struck scrike, iii. 159/81, shriek scctf, i.242/9, misprinted with a capital letter for “ scot,” smif, shot, rate, tax, tribute, money. “ Scot and lot; ” Matt. xxii. 19, “ soont mij den schat-ting-penning."	‘ ‘ Show me the tribute
penny.” “Pay your shot, gentlemen! ” Brockie
scott, 1.112/477, witch ? scrag, i.20/14, leafage ? ; scrag is scrub = shrub, A.-S. scrobb, a shrub. There is a piece of land near here (Brigg, Lincolnshire) called Corringham Scroggs: in the 6th Henry VIII. it was spelt “ Scrobsse.” In John Leyden’s ballad of Ld Soulis (Scott’s Border Minst. vol. 4. p. 253) we have “ And May shall choose, if my love she refuse,
. A scrog bush there beside.” schrobbe, a busshe, arbrisseau.—Balsg. seale, ii.221/96, sail sealed, ii.85/142, sailed sealing, i,302/56, sailing seasens, iii.318/40.	Beyond all doubt
an error for seasons (the well-known verses, called also chol-iambics).—■ Bgce
securlg, i.114/520, certainly seeding, ii.150/38, boiling sea, i. 282/264, ? fee seed, i.447/811, semen, seege, i.228/313; i.220/163, A.-S. secg, a man
seege, i.216/84, besiege seeth, i.87/56, sith, since seile, ii.578/502, bliss seized, iii. 30/330, put into possession sekyr, i.l 14/528, sure selcamar, i.351/41; selcamoure, i.384/971, an Indian stuff; ? serica mori, mulberry silk.—Brockie selcoth, i.449/875 ; 451/931, strange; sel-kougth, iii.60/96, 8a. seldom known, Coles's Eng. Diet. 1677 selcothes, iii.64/181, rarities selfeer, i.l77/49, ? seller, cf. 1. 53. Prof. Child reads “ landles feer.” See Notes, vol. i.
sellcoth, i. 215/72, strange; A.-S. sel-cu% for seld-cu%, seldom known, rare, wonderful
sensyng, ii. 165, incense-burning
SHO
sent him, i.240/121, betook himself sented, i.355/38, consented sercote, iii.41-/651, sur-coat sermocination, ii.525, col. i. serrett, iii.l 1/126, ? closed fist serued, i.450/906, deserved served, ii.435/5^7, ? for “greeved” servelle, i.l06/47, perhaps the Old French cerveller = cut the throat, sever the cervical veins.—Brockie sett, i.216/86, ? for hett, promise shadding, ii.31/39, lying in the shade shake, i.l 11/441, pace shales, ii.227/1,husks ; notElyot’s shayles. The good husband, when he hath sown in his ground, setteth up clouts or threads, which some called shagles, some blenchars, or other like shews, to frighten away birds which he foreseeth ready to devour and hurt his corn.— Elyot's Governour, ed. 1834, p. 75 shame, in, ii.439/646, insame, together shamely, ii.456/1158, shamefully shames, i.228/320. shalms, a wind instrument, from Lat. calamus, a reed. The Musitians .. At great feasts,when the Earles service is going to the table, they are to play upon Shagbute, Cornett, Shalmes, and such other instruments going with winde. — B. Braithwait's Bides and Orders for the House of an Earle, ed. 1821, p. 44. Shalms are now called Clarionets. See Popular Music, i.35, note b.— Chappell
share, ii.540/384, shearing; A.-S. scear, sheared
shawes, i.228/322, groves, woods sheer, iii.58/59, pure, clear sheild, ii.576/460, ? a broad piece of pork or bacon
shent, iii.29/293, marred, spoiled, &c.; 72/370, destroyed
shimered, iii.58/50, glimmered; A.-S.
scymrian, to shine, glitter shimmer, ii.l08/807, shiver shire, i.229/330, Cheshire shivers, went all to, ii.535/243 shoggs, 1.218/118, moves, goes; Er. berser, to rocke, in a cradle; to shog, or swing up and downe.—Cotgrave. To shog is to trot in Staffordshire: “ Let me see her shog," said the vet. who came to see my lame mare the other day. The groom changed her pace from a walk to a trot.—E. Tiles566
GLOSSARY.
SHO
shogged, iii.191/56, moved. See yol. i. p. 218, note 5
shontest, ii.75/460, flinchest shooters, i.46/141
shoots, i.332/323, shots (with arrows) $5op, i.57/73, ? shot, with a slip shutter before it
iii.241/155, shaped shotten, i.54/25; 55/39, went quickly shoure, i.375/665, scold, threaten; Scotch shore, to threaten.—Brockie. ? show of fight, bravado.—A1. shower, ii.l 12/929, A.-S.	battle,
fight'
showing home, iii.227/311 shradds, ii.227/1, twigs shread, ii.585/672, cnt, crack, hit shroggs, ii.232/111, stunted shrubs. See scrag
sib, i.355/45; $¿55, ii.379/1030, related $¿55, iii.36/508, kin, relations side, ii.5661223, broad, or long; iii.63 /176, long. And also to see mens seruantes so abused in theyr aray: theyr cotes be so syde that they be fayne to tucke them vp whan they ryde, as women do theyr kyrtels whan they go to the market or other places, the whiche is an ynconueni-ent syght.—Fitzherbtrts Husbandry, ed. 1767, p. 96
sigh, ii.323/30, sorry, miserable ?, straining (cloth), says Mr. Dyce. See Notes siTced, i.356/60, sighed; ii.68/263, ?
sickened or sighed siking, i.363/272, sighing silly, ii.283/75, poor siluen, ii.502/1, silver; see 503/29 sinne, i.364/314, since sirrupps, ii.578/507, syrops sist, i.236/27, sighed sithe, i.151/228, afterwards; ii.480/1781 ? for swithe, quickly
sithe, iAZSj521, either sithe, since, afterwards, or swithe, quickly sithe, iii.24/130, time; i.149/162, iii.30| 324, times
skill,4.116/168, feint; Old Norse skil, reason ; i. 163/611, reason, cause skye, i.438/508, 518, cloud; Old Norse sky,(but see Professor Childin Notes); i.470, 471. I feel almost sure it is connected with or corrupted from scin, seine, or some cognate word, a phantasm, vision, spectre.—Atkinson slade, ii.229/50, an open place
SOW
slake, i.238/76, assuaging slauen, ii.542/448, Fr. esclavine, a pilgrim’s cloake or mantle slauish, ii.l36/12, of slaves slawe, iii.97/562, slain sleight, i.366/386, skill, cleverness slode, iii.8/99, slid, went sloe, ii.588/754, slow, stupid slopes, ii.257/66, breeches slowe, i.429/203, slain slowen, i.428/174, slain ; 428/190, slay smire, i. 113/129, ? for swire, neck smocke, ii.329/51, chemise: “Neare is mypeticoate, but nearer is my smocke. Ma chemise, vrCest plus pres ke ma rober—Holyband’s French Littelton, 1609, p. 76-7
snapped, i.229/336, for swapped ; iii.50, swept off
snell, ii.342/34, active ; 546/557, quickly soft, i.364/328, soften soine, ii.38/22, ?
sond, i.426/119; 433/337; 439/536, message
sonde, ii.430/389, attack, blow sonse, i.227/286, soul soonde, i. 154/314, swoon sooned, i.396/1347, swooned soonesffell, iii.46/833, sansfaile, without fail, see 1. 841 sooth, iii.61/120, truth sore, i.93/60, A.-S. sorh, sorrow; 364/ 318,pain; 380/821,sorrowful,pained, grieved
souce, ii.l50/38, pickled pig’s head and trotters
sound, ii.l01/624, swoon sounde, i.443/679, try, pat, stroke sounded, i.361/234, made sound, relieved souse, iii.367/1, ? death souter, i.362/265, psaltery sowle-knell, i.232/409, funeral knell sowre, i.358/116, sorrel-coloured horse sowte, iii,244/222, assault sowter, i.381/853, 861 ; sowtrye, ii.422/ 149,psaltery.—-DePsalterio, ca. cxliiii. The Sawtry hyghte Psalterium and hath that name of psallendoIsingyng: for the consonant answerethe to the note therof in syngyng. The harpe is like to the sawtry in sowne/but this is the dyuersytee & discord bytwene the harp & the sawtri: in the sawtry is an holowe tree/and of that same tree the sowne cometh vppewarde; And the stringes benGLOSSARY.
567
SPA
smytte doimward/and sownetli vp-warde. And in the harpe the holow-nes of the tree is byneth. . . Stringes for the sawtry ben beste made of laton, or ells those ben good that ben made of syluer.—Treviso?s Bar-tholomceus, lib. xix. leaf 383, col. 1, ed. 1535
sparhawk, i.160/517, sparrow-hawk sparkells, ii.459/1223, sparks sparred, i.447/815, shut, barred spartle, ii.440/675, sparkle, spark speere, i.178/80, ? hole in the wall for enquiries to be made through sperred, ii.528/31, enquired spill, i.236/18, kill
spilt, iii.326/124, ? splenf (cf. splinter) spiritualty, i.96/160, spiritual or clerical lords
spite, i.77/54, respite, grace splents, i.384/959, see note 1 spole, iii. 415/251, hr. espaule, a shoulder spousage, i.442/656, wedlock spousing, i.443/688, marriage spowted, i.374/652, shot, rushed sprent, ii.65/194; 532/167, sprang springalls, iii.256/573 *. springal, an ancient military engine for casting stones and arrows.—Halliwell spurred, i.446/759, sparred, shut spurred, i.394/1259, asked spyrryng, i.l09/223, enquiring; A.-S. spirian, to enquire
squires, i.229/337,forsworns (cp. sweere, 1. 345), see iii.11/132; not A.-S. swira, sweora, a neck, but squire squier, ii. 37 3/ 8 7 6, baby boy srow, i.460/1221, shrew ~st, i.20/28 (see note4), shalt, must; youst, ii.219/47, you shall. See 1st, thoust
stacker ed, i.388/1076, staggered stage, i. 376/713, time stake, ii.538/342, ? stuck, or for strake stcdeworth, iii.27/235; 60/105, stout, lusty, strong states, iii.251/442, nobles statuinge, ii.563/155, ordinance staunche, ii.427/308, resist, stop steade, iii.24/142, place steale, i.l47/98, stalk steddie, i.99/238, ? stede, place; stithy is a smith’s anvil
steere, i.357/112; i. 363/298, stir, the move
stent, ii.475/1654, stint, stop
SWE
stent, ii. 461/1267, portion, property; stente, or certeyne of valwe, or deede, and oJ?er lyke (of value or dette).— Taxecio. Promptorium sterne, iii. 158/49, A.-S. steor-ern, the steering-place, the stern steuen, i.148/135 ; ii.236/208; iii.73/408, voice, A.-S. stefn
steuen, i.395/1310, ? stuffs, garments, &c. steven, ii. 232/110, time. Seevoisett stint, i.439/538, stay, stop; A.-S. stint-an, to be weary
stond, i.98/201; iii.21/45 ; A.-S. stund, a short space of time; Du. stond, Dan. and Sw. stund, Germ, stunde stonde, iii.86/272, time, moment store, ii.559/55, Sc. stoor, strong, rough store, ii.579/536, big stoure, ii.420/115, space of time stower, i.96/149, stir, fight stowre, i.365/352, battle; iii.89/356, fight, conflict; ii.299/97; 300/107, hurry, rush
stowre, i.96/151, strong; A.-S. stor, great vast; ii.484/1885, strong, fierce strand, i.360/187, shore, met. stream;
i.	367/413, ? the ‘riuere’ of 1. 415;
ii.	534/209, stream or sea. Strand, 1. a rivulet.—Douglas’, 2. a gutter. —Wallace. Jamieson
stranger, i.l82/13, extraordinarily gifted person
stray, i.385/1001, his saddle strayned on, ii.286/184, sang strond, i.426/111, land, country strond, ii.85/144, sea. See strand studd, iii. 370/28, a thorn sumpter-man, ii.568/271 sunne, iii.481 /	?
surhat, iii. 366/17 . . . surhoted or riven of their skin.—Topsell. Hall1. —stir-bating, f. a galling or over-heating the soles of the feet.—Coles’s Eng. Diet. 1677.—T.
swaine, i.185/100, thread or ornament swapt, i.311/289, struck swarned, iii. 413/209, swarmed, i.e. climbed.—P. MS. may be swarued. —F."
swee, iii.256/575, qu. perhaps flee.—P. Sway (and fall).—F.	In Stafford
and its vicinity ay is continually pronounced like ee, e. g. pee for pay, dee for day, lee for lay, bull-beeting for bull-baiting, &c. At Newcastle, however, a few miles off, the very oppo-568
GLOSSARY.
SWE
site prevails, may for me, hay for he, &c.— V.
sweeres, iiL58/54, squires sweeuens, ii.228/13, dreams swelt, iii.70/337, to die swicke, ii.537/297; A.-S. swiean, to deceive
swilled, i.73/278, shook swire, ii.467/1432 ; iii.70/337, neck swithe, i. 102/314, quickly swiue, i.130/7, copulate with szt, ii.524, scilicet, namely
tables, take up the, iii.97/569 takells, iii. 125/23, tackle, qu. talke, iii.65/225 tame, ii.417/36, dead tane, i.152/253, taken, come tane sworne, i. 192/289 (taken) sworn tap, iii.297/47, top taughe, iii. 3 0/3 20, tough teddar stakes, iii.283/185, tethering stakes
teemed, iii.221/144, A.-S. team, issue, offspring, anything following in a row or team: tedmian, to produce, propagate
teene, i.153/274, A.-S. teona, injury, wrong, insult; iii.83/192, vexation teene, ii.471/1524, vex, trouble teene, ii.92/336, ? for keene, as in 1. 342, or teen, angry.—Halliwell teenful, iii.63/174, full of injury, destruction
teenously, i.321/88, grievedly temporaltie, i,96/161, lay lords tenants to the booke, i.223/228, ? copy-holders
tent, ii.208/111, take charge of tented, i.363/278, plugged up, dressed tenting, i.363/283, plugging, dressing tenting, i. 187/139, tending, taking care of
tents, i.363/277, plugs of silk in wounds ter, ii.466/1381, tar thakked, ii .164, thwacked, beat thee, ii.346/150, thrive there, ii.424/213, where therfore, iii.349/712, on that account thick, iii.106/113, that thinke, i.451/928, things, necessaries thinke, ii.425/238, fume, fret:	cp.
thought, anxiety
tho, iii.28/263; 61/115; 108/175, then tho, i.97/195, the, thrive
TOT
thoe, i.359/119, suffer tholed, iii.56/1, qu. tholedst, sufferedst thore, iii.22/68, there thought, i.157/425, anxiety thouse, ii.324/54, thou art thoust, i.77/59, 81/27, 150/188-9, 168/ 52, 187/130; ii.205/24, ii.218/16, 329 /32, 331/102, 291/13-15 (3 times), thou shalt
thratt, ii.565/181, threatened thraw, i.92/34, bold thraiv, ii.251/106, throe, pang threape, ii.324/61, strive threw, i.99/251, wriggled about thrttd, i.249/38 ; 250/54, knocked thringe, iii.253/494, A.-S. Spring an, to rush
throe, i.358/144, fierce; ii.75/461 ; iii.
282/151 ; A.-S. \>ra, bold throstlecocke, i.121/19, thrush, merle throw, iA6Sj 1328, A.-S. \>rah, time, space throwe, ii.72/364, eager thrub-chadler, i.66/123 ; trub-chandler, i.68/172, a tub or barrel ? It may be tuba ciadlaaigh, Irish, tub used in giving milk to calves.—Brockie. I have met with trubchandlers, but have searched for it now successlessly. I take it to mean some kind of shallow tub, from trub, squat (v. Littleton) and chandler, a kind of vessel used perhaps by candle-makers, a kind of vat, but I cannot in any dictionary I have here (about 100) find the word chandler thus used.—E. Viles thytille, ii.570/322, thwitle, knife tike, i.30/66, dog, O.N. tik tilden, i.216/91, pitched (tents) tint, ii.490/2066, lost tinye, i. 192/272, bit tipen, iii.64/194, dip Use, i.440/587, entice to, i.226/276, too
to-brast, ii.429/362, burst in pieces toke[n]inge, i.461/1254, a token too-too: excessively. See Mr. Halli-well’s collection of examples in his edition of The Marriage of Wit and Wisdom (Shakespeare Soc.)p. 71-6 toote, ii.535/235, to it, to fight top {on a mast), i.302/60, and note topcastle, iii.408/106. Topcastles, lodgings surrounding the mast head.— Hal.
toting, ii.53/16 ; tote, to bulge out (Somerset), large, fat (Gflouc.)—HalliwellGLOSSARY.
569
TOT
totorne, i.436/464, torn up toward, ii.422/163, going on, that has happened
towne, ii.564/178, tone, the one?
ii.	579/531, ? proper step
traine, i.447/806, embryo. Comp, ordinary expr.“ put in train ” = “ trained him on,” provincial, and other like. —A.
traine, i.214/52, harass traitorye, ii.218/7 ; 267/43, treachery trammed, i.62/33, went slowly transpose, ii.60/52, transfigure trauncell, ii.94/410, travail, childbearing
trattle, iii.l 33/142 ? tree, ii.221/88, suffering tree, ii.559/54, wood treene, ii.181/1, wooden trinde, ii. 117/1073, tind, branch of a deer’s antler
trothelesse, ii.240/45, untrusty take, ii. 114/972
trumpetts, ii.474/1604, trumpeters truncheon, i.356/57, a broken shaft (of a spear)
iii.	56/11, trusse, package trusse, i.482/1931, pack trustilie, i.149/155, faithfully turke, i.91/14, and note 2, a dwarf turnamentrye, ii.342/41, tourneying turtle, ii.81/21; 84/104, turtle-dove twatling, ii. 156/215, peddling, pottering twinke,iii.339/461, a wink; see Shak.
Temp. Act i. Sc. 2.— F”. tydand, iii.217/36 ; 353/880, tidings tydants, i.232/404, tidings tfy&e, ii.541/407, tick, dog-louse type, ii.293/70, ? separate tyred, i. 146/71, attired, dressed, adorned tyte, i.458/1167, quickly
uglyest, iii.62/152, most fright-causing umstrode, ii.61/75, bestrode ; iii.238/68. Umstrid, astride, astridlands. Pays Words not generally used, 1674. — Ffa unbethought, i.76/35 ; 177/62; 236/17, bethought
uncoth, i./367/405, unknown ii.378/991, strange undertane, i.368/446, undertake undernome, i.477/1780, understood, perceived
undight, i.150/178-9, undressed we, i.64/66, one
YIS
vnfaine, i.93/88 unfain, sorrowful unfolded, i.366/379, closed ungracious, i.224/246, difficult of access unheld, ii.492/2130, open unmackley, iii. 11 /133, ill-shapen, clumsy in appearance, unmake like. Brocket's North Country Words.— Viles unnethes, ii.478/1721, hardly, scarcely unrid, iii.63/171, large.—Halliwell unryde, i.468/1501, “ unrude, vile.”— Jamieson
vnsett steuen, ii.386/1230, and note; ii.232/110; ii. 561/192, unappointed time
vnsett, i. 331/292, umsett, surrounded unskill, ii.558/41, senselessly vnskillfullye, ii.560/84, without reason vnsoughte, i. 111/435, A.-S. unseht, unhappy _
unsteake, iii.265/73, unfasten, open untill, i.75/6, unto
unyeeld, ii.530/106, unwieldy ?, or unyielding, stiff
upbraided with (for by), i.331/308 upon, i.l85/83, to
upon, be, iii.129/53, cp. our “ I’ll be down upon you ”
uttered, i.228/324, pulled
uai[r], you, 53/12, read “ your vaines ” uacand, ii.545/523, empty ualoure, ii.422/168, worth valours, ii.368/739, skill, worth uaward, i.215/68, van, leading division of an army venere, i.l06/20, deer venison, iii. 13/165, all for his warryson, i.e. reward.—P.
uentale, ii.l32/1498 ; ventayle, ii.478/ 1726, face armour of different shape and material to the visor.—Blanche venturer,^ i.308/216 uerditt, i.l55/351, verdict uerome, i.470/1535, (? randome, see 478 /1820,) pace, rush; ?gyrum, circuit, veering.—Brockie vew, ii.324/47, ? uew-bow, i.58/103, yew-bow vewe, i.332, note 5; ueiwe, ii.230/59; iii.256/572, yew.—Wilbraham's Cheshire Glossary vice, i.148/116, devices wZe, ii.462/1319, ? for “fele,” numerous uis, iii.78/51, ? MS., for w or us, us i.447, taught, advised570
GLOSSARY.
WON
YIS
visor, ii.478/1724
vuulye, iii.58/45, forte winlye, i.e. pleasantly, jucunde. Lye.—P. ? viewlye. —F.
waches, i.383/944, watchers waile, i. 163/615, weal waite, ii.94/388, expected; waiteth, iii. 67/250, is used for waitest; this agrees with tholed for tholedst, in 1. 1.—8k. wake, iii.268/144, A.-S. wceccan, to watch
waken, ii.331/96, ? watching or waking waleth, iii.69/296, afflictest, A.-S. wcelan, to afflict, vex
walker, ii.306/53, fuller, whitener wallingr, i.387/1057; ii.592/854, boiling, passionately. Walling = yelling, howling, jowling, bellowing,wailing, squalling, squealing. The root forms a component part of most languages.— Brockie
waits, iii.69/299, A.-S. wceltan] to roll, tumble
wanhojpe, i.445/739, despair waleth, iii.65/217, rusheth, fluttereth war, iii.272/5, see note warder, ii.241/65, a kind of truncheon or staff of command. See Nares warle, i.146/59, weariness warne, ii.107/779, A.-S. warnian, to take care of
warned, iii.67/269, forbade warre, i.427/158, beat, drive warre, i.429/207, A.-S. werian, to protect, defend
warre, ii.533/190, worse warryson, ii.589/790, reward warth, iii.66/248, to go wary, iii.67/255, curse. I warrye, Ibanne or curse. Je mauldis, This is a farre northren terme.—Palsgrave wate, i.227/287, clever, wise waward, i.216/89, vanguard wawe, ii.458/1184, wall, shelter way, i.218/114, wight, man wayes, i.229/331, men way-gate, i.366/380; 374/648, by-going, passage
wayte, iii.68/287. Qu. wate, Scot. i.e. wot't.—P.
wayted, iii.58/48, Old Pr. gaiter, to spy about
wed-bed, i.235/9, marriage-bed
wed, i.384/952 ; wedd, weed, i,367/421 420, A.-S. wed, pledge weede, i.99/234, garment, A.-S. w&d weene, i.454/1024; 457/1144, doubt welded, i. 148/112, possessed weldeth, iii.56/13, governeth wellaway, ii.52/6, lamentation weme, ii.221/82, womb, circle wend, iii.43/722, go
wend, iii.236/13 ; wende, i.447/812 ;
wenden, i.456/1082, thought wendes, i.462/1280, thinks whales bone, ii.369/748 ; iii.20/16 ; iii.
268/154, ivory whall, ii.378/1012, walrus whalles-bone, ii.342/23, ivory what, ii. 380/1070, why what devill ! ii.364/625; ii. 588/795, what the devil ! devil take you ! when, iii. 64/196, wan whether, i.469/1525, weather whighest, i.23/77, nimblest ® white, i.327/216, A.-S. witan, to blame who, i.230/355, what or whose who and that, rel. i.376, note 6 whom, i.249/21, home whore, i.327/214, hoar whylye, iii.364/7, wilye wight, i.386/1031, 387/1047, quick; i.
331/287; iii.65/217, nimble wightilye, ii.65/194, nimbly wüfidl, ii.231/95, wishful, desirous to know ?
wilsome, ii.371/802; 558/36, wild, lonely wince, ii.580/545, winche, kick wininge, i.487/2091, woning, dwelling winlye, iii.74/428, A.-S. wynlice, joyously winne, iii.238/62, A.-S. win, pleasure winne, iii.68/293, pleasant; iii. 56/5, joyful
winne, i.178/78, get to winne, iii.39/590, to go, to depart wishe, i.481/1904, 482/1943, ii.548/608, wisse, teach, instruct withsay, i.373/590, deny, refuse witt, i.152/238, know witt, iii.61/120, to tell witt, i.226/280, with witterlye, i.438/509, A.-S. wiiodlice, clearly
witterlye, i.447/812, for certain woe, winne to, iii.62/139 ? wold, i.218/114, was won, ii.564/175, wone, dwell woning, i.164/632, dwellingGLOSSARY.
571
woo
wood, iii.81/139, furious woodhall, i.383/922, ? witwall or golden ouzle. Loriot (French) a Bird called a Wit-wal, Wood-pecker, or Greenfinch.—Phillips 1671 woodweete, ii.228/5, wodewale, bryd idem quod reynefowle or wodehake (or no-thac. Pious) et lucar. Promptorium.
, witwdl, the great spotted woodpecker woone, i.332/314, dwelling woone, ii.537/313, win, get woonen, i.441/605, dwell wooninge, iii.26/191 ; 38/567, dwelling wore, ii.533/196, worse worme, ii.367/694, dragon worth, i.l22/note, col. 2 ; ii.89/255 ; 230 /63, he to. A.-S. weor\>cm, to become, be
worthes, iii.56/9, goes wracJce, i.101/294, A.-S. vindictive punishment, mischief, evil wrapp, iii.^6/97, wrapper wrath, i.485/2032, rathe, early wreake, iii.44/758, revenge wrecJce, i.375/673, avenge wright, i.425/94, iii.66/238, right
i. 15/14, foot. In old Frisian, hand-wrist and foot-wrist occur, and the same use is found in Middle High German, &c. Ger. Hester denotes both wrist and instep.—Child
ZEL
writhe, ii.223/135, twisted, took wroclcen, i.194/348; wroken, i.358/137; ii.228/12, revenged
wrought, i.70/205, rought, reached; i.474 /1672, seized
wrought, iii.65/215, troubled, wretched Scot, wraik, to vex
wrucked, i.69/190, thrown up as wrack wytterly, i.108/197, certainly
yare, i.452/948 ; 490/2193, ready yare, i.95/138, before, A.-S. &r yarne, ii.432/450;	439/631, nimbly,
quickly,
yate, i.356/65; ii.274/72,80, gate yearded, i.234/419, earthed, dwelt yearne, i.231/381, A.-S. georn, eager. “ yearn ” is, I rather think, aim — iron, from the Norse jern.—Brockie yenders, i.153/282, afternoon’s yerne, iii.64/185, iron ? yerning,\\. 117/1067, running or yearning yode, i.158/429; iii.40/619, 343/575, A.-S. eodon, went yowc?, i. 250/46, yode, went away yoiist, ii.219/47, you will
zely, iii.368/3, A.-Sax. scelig, happy, lucky, blessed, prosperous.—Bosworth573
INDEX OF NAMES, SUBJECTS, AND PHRASES.
The Titles of the Ballads are printed in italics. i.20(5 means vol. 1, page 20, line 5.
ACA
A Cauilere, iii.366 A Jigge, ii.334 A Louer off Late, iii.389 A Propecye, iii.371 Abbot of St. Austin’s, ii.152(23 Abell, iii.70(326 Aberdonie, i. 191(255 Abraham, iii.70(329 ; 74(423 Abydos, iii.296(13 Acctollen, iii*471(49 Achilles, iii.171(52
Aeon (Acre?), i.284(325-36; the siege and taking of, i.283(291 Acteon’s hounds, iii. 126(45 Adam, iii. 170(9; 70(326 Adam and Eve, iii.74(422 Adam Bell, iii.76(9; 77(27 passim Adam Bell, Clime of the Cloughe, and William off Cloudeslee, iii.7 6 Adam Carre, i.82(52
adder, the, which caused Arthur’s last battle and death, i.503(145 Adderton, i.325(169; Atherton Adland, King, ii.600(18; 601(31, &c. Adler, ii.600(5; 601(41. Sqq King Adler Adlatt’s park, iii.216(l Adventurous Chapel, ii 424(206; 428(321 ¿Egiptian Queene, the, ii.26 Agincourt, ii.169(65 Agincourt Ballads, ii. 595(597 Agincourte Battell, ii.l 58 Agostes, ii.60(49
Agravaine, Sir, i 145(40; ii.425(259; 426 (274
Aeyana, i.498(23, Igerne, Arthur’s mother Air-fiends, 1440(580 toi.447; 455(1073 JEneas, iii.261(8,17 ; 502(7; 504(71,79; 505(103
¿Eneas and Dido, iii.260
iEolus, iii 306(47
Akerson, Sir William, iii.245(271
Akerston, Sir Roger, iii.245(270
Albanack, King, iii.437(2
Albert, Archbishop of Yorke, iii. 152(7
Alcides, iii.305(27
ANG-
Aldingar, Sir, i.165
ale, women drinking at the, i.446(771. Cp, The Good Wife in Babees Book, &c., 39( 73-80
Alexander, King, i. 148(109; ii.451 (1001; iii.70(334
Alexander the mightye, iii. 17 0(2 5 Alexios, St. ii.518 Alexis, St. ii.525 Alffonso and Ganselo, iii.507 Allen, Lord of Galloway, i.290(5l8 Almaigne, ii.536(291; iii.268(164 Almaine, Emperor of, (Maximilian), i.319(16 Almaigne, Sir James of, ii.107(790 Alphoriso, iii.507(4; 509(41; 510(81,88;
510(91,94, passim Althea, ii. 19(3 Amadis of Gaul, ii.404 Amarant, ii.136(13; 138(49, &c.; 139(83; 140(108
ambiing steed, ii.87 208 Ambree, Mary, i.515 Ambrosius Aurelianus, i.417 Amilion, the jolly island of, i.l64(621; Avilion, the apple-land. Cornish Aval, s. m. An apple. It also signifies all manner of tree fruit of a similar kind, as pomum was used by the Romans. Avallen, s. f. An apple tree. Cornish Vo-cab. malus. Nans avallen, the valley of apple trees; nomen loci. W. avallen, aballen. Arm. avalen. Cf. nom. loci in Gaul, Aballone.—Williams’s Lexicon Cornu-Britannicum Amintas, iii.450 Amintas, iii.450(l; 451(21,31 Amongst the Mirtles, ii.35 Amyntas, iii.307(60 Analaf, ii.520
Andrew, Young, a Scotch ruffian, ii.327 angels, dropping, for a wedding portion, ii. 284(104-19
Anguish (Angus), Earl of, i,290(512 Anguish, King of Denmark, i.423(19; 424 (69; 426(108,117 ; 431(267-96; 433574
INDEX.
ANG
(364; 434(369; 435(410; 473(1648; 474(1689; 475(1713; 478(1803; 479 (1845; 480(1870; 481(1895; 486 (2043-67 his death; 492)2250. King Anguis or Anguish of Denmark, whom Vortiger sent for to come and help him, may have been a namesake of the King of the Piets, Aonghus, Oongus, Oengusa, Onnust, Onius, or Ungust I., of whose numerous wars and victories Pinkerton gives a long account, Hist. Scot. I. 304-7. ' Aonghus was possibly, after all, the redoubtable enemy of King Arthur.—Broc-kie
Angus, Earl of, ii. 192(41
Anne, James I.’s queen, dead, Ii.319(198
Antonye, Mon-senyour, iii.540, note1
apes, lead, in hell, ii.47(16; ii.46, note
Apollo, ii 54(53; iii.305(31
Apollos, iii.450(2
Appolloes teeme, iii.125(19
Arabian Nights, ii.303
Archbishop of Canterbury, iii.152(22
Archbishop of York, the, iii.152(7
Archduke Leopold of Austria, i.285(350
archery, i.8,37
Ardine, King, ii.297(16, same as Estmere, 297(11
Are Women Faire, iii.364
Argus’ eyes, ii.325(16
Argyle Castle, iii.220(l 10; 223(186,187;
224(228; 224(229 Argyle, Marquis of, i.343 Armorica, i.403
Armoroure, Madam de, ii.470(1508 to 472 (1560
arms, Eglamore’s, described, ii.383(1130-8 Armstrong, ii.225(209 Armstrong, Hector, of Harlaw, i.294 Armstrong, Lord Jocke, i.301(9 Arnada, daughter of the King of Sattin, ii. 360(517; 363(594: marries Degrabell, ii. 388(127 5 Aronn, iii.70(327 Arr, ii.533(201, ?
Arradas, King, ii 80(9; 84(124; 106(765; 108(810;110(866;112(920;113(938; 114(965; 115(1004; 118(1099; 119 (1124; 120(1156; 123(1252; 132 (1522; 133(1534; 134(1558; &c. Arragon, ii.95(441; 112(937; 116(1028;
119(1123; 126(1336 Arragon, King of, ii.l06(765 ; 108(810; 112(920
Arrard of Arden, Sir, ii.529(79 Arrarde of Arden, Sir, ii.548(599 Arrndeil, Lord, iii. 137(7; 138(38; 150(374
BAG
Arthore, Sir, father of Vylett, ii.442(723; 443(742; 445(819
Arthur: a general Introduction to Merline and Kinge Arthurs Death, discussing the facts and some of the stories about Arthur, i.401
Arthur: Mr. C. H. Pearson’s Essay on, i. 401-4; traditions of, and romances about, i 405-16; his ballad history, i.497-507; mere historians may doubt of him, ii.524 Arthur, i.59; 105(1; 144(1; 153(275; ii. 58(1,8,12; 59(37; 62(112; 66(207, 214; 69(299; 77(508,516; 305(15 &c. ii.416(11; 417(42, 46, 55;	418(67 ;
ii.419(85,103; 424(232; 425(244; 426 (286; ii.431 (417,428 ; 436(576; 443 (746; 453(1042; 462(1312; 466(1394; 475(1634; 497-9; iii,172(73; 277(12; 278(31; 279(42 Arthur of England, iii.70(338 Arthur, Prince of Wales, ii.316(98 Arthur’s Court, ii.61(68; 76(491,497 Arthur’s hall, ii.60(58 Arthur’s Law, ii.424(219 Artigall, ii.l45(9
Artoys, ii.341(13 ; 348(220 ; 358(467 ; 363(610,628; 369(743; 373(866; 386 (1218; §87(1258
Arundel, Earl of, i.290(505; iii.483(105 Arundel, Lord, iii.244(235. See Arrndeil As it befell one Saturday, i.241 As yee came from the Holy, iii.465 ash, oath by the, i.251(72 Ashton of Middleton, i.325(162 Ashton, Sir Ralph, iii.247(323 Ashton-under-line, i.325(165 Astrea, iii.305(33
Athelstan, ii.519-20; 528(34,5*5; 539(347;
542(439; 543(462 Athens, iii.507(7; 508(9,13,30 Attelston, Sir; Loosepain’s husband, i.377( 735; i.381(867; 390(1157 Attherston, iii 193(93 Audley, Lord, iii.244(239; 245(250 Auelocke, king of Denmark, ii.528(37,55;
533(185; 539(353; 540(394 Aueragus, iii. 152(19 Augustus, iii.170(28 Aurora, iii.306(37 Austrich Duke, i. 282(282 axletree, flinging of the, i.90; i.97(192 Ay me: ay me: ii.43
Babington, Sir John of, iii.246(294 Babylon, iii.273(29 Bacchus, Ü.53(24; iii.l26(37INDEX,
575
BAG
backbone, Sir Geffron’s, cracked in jousting, ii.452(1024
bacon for supper, ii.563(139 bag puddings, ii,151(76 Bagilie, John a, i.243(4 Bagily, in Cheshire, i. 233(418 ball, ladies playing at the, ii.275(88 Ballads of the North of Scotland, by Buchan the forger, ii.269 Balowe, iii. 515 Banbury, ii.40(4; 42(41 Bonburye, the tribe off,\ ii.39 Bandello, ii 303 Baner, Sir, ii.434(507 Banier, Sir, i. 113(120, Bedivere?
Banister, ii.255(21; 257(57;&c; 258(85, &c.; 259(125 Barathron, iii 73(405 Barbary corsairs, i.298 Barbary, the heathen Soldan at, 5.308(214; 310(250
Barekley, Don, ii.524, col. 2.	? Alex. Bar-
clay who writ the Ship of Fools Barfleet, i.27 8(155 Barnard Castle, i 293
Barnsdale,ii.229(45,47; 233(141; 235(181
bare as my hand, iii.536(88
Bartley, Lord, iii.244(241
Barton, Sir Andrew, iii.405(37 ; iii.407(84;
409(132; 410(151; 411(159, passim Barton, Sir John Booth of, i.229(338; 326(173
Bartton, John of, iii.414(235 Bartton, Sir Andrew, iii.399 Barwicke side, ii.226(213 Bassett, i.275(64
bastardy no real stain in knightly times, ii.405, note
Bateable, the, 5.294, the debateable land, Scotch border bath of herbs, ii.359(508 Battle of the Spurs, i.20l Bawbener (/or Bulmer), Sir William, i.220(157
Bawiner, Sir William, iii.354(854 Beame, the land of, i.354(l; 375(683 bean bread, ii.574(387 Beauchamp, the family of, ii.524, col 1 Beaumayns. i. 143, note 5 Beaumont, Sir John, iii.483(115 Beckett, Thomas a, tomb of, iii.480(14 Bedever, Arthur’s butler, i.504(162,179; 505(196
Bedlam, Tom of, iihl24(8 Bednall Greene, ii.2*83(70 beeffe, pouthered (salted), iii. 126(50 Beeston, i.328(224, Bidston ■
Beeston, the Castle of, i.289(479
BOA
begging, a good trade for Scotchmen in James I’s time, ii.43-5 begin the bord, ii.590(820, take the highest seat at table Bell my Wife, i.320 Bellefaunt, Lady, ii.393(3 Bellona, iii.306(36 Bells ringing backwards, iii. 89(346 Bel ward, William, i.27 6(98 Belzebub, iii.72(390
Berwick, i.230(364; iii.238(84; 433(63; 459(3
Berwick Low, iii.431(l, Berwick Hill Bessye, Lady, iii.325(94,100, passim, 343(576; 352(801; 362(1055; 363( 1069
Bessie off Bednall, ii.279 Bethelem, iii.292(443,455 Bethlem, ii.85(136
Beufise, Ginglaine or Libius called, ii.416( 26; 418(66 Bevis, Sir, ii.509,517
Biauju, Renals de, author of Li Blaus Desconneus, ii.406-410 Bigeram Abbey, iii.347(661; 351(763 Bikez, Robert; his Lai du Corn, ii.301 Bilbo blade, iii.l 10(225 Birkhead, i.328(221, Birkenhead Biron, Sir John, i.213(21 Bishop of Ely, James Stanley, i.226(281; i.231(387
Bishoppe tf Brown, ii 265 Bittons-borrow, the Castle of, i.80(3 Blackater, i.219(129, Boroughmoor, see 1. 203
Blanch ffaire, iii.278(35 Blanch Land, Lady of, iii.279(40 Blanchard my stede, i.144 Blandamour and Paridal of ‘ The Fairy Queen,’ i.293
Blasye, the hermit, i.445(741; i.448(821; 450(892;	451(944; 452(959; 474(
1679	-
bleared his eye, ii.472(1541 blind beggar of Bednall Green, ii.281 Blondville, Randle, 6th Earl of Chester, the Paragon of England, i.281 (251; i.264; confused with Randle Glaiiville, i.267(6; i.283(304; 284(329, &c. blood, charm for staunching, iii.147(303 “ blow thy borne, good hunter,” i.75(3 Bloyes, ii.288(225, Blois Blunt, Sir James, i.213(19 boar, a (Richard III.), iii. 190(13 boar, the big, of Sattin, ii. 353(347 boar’s head that no Cuckold’s knife can carve, ii.310( 161
boar’s head, the first dish, ii.576(459576
INDEX.
BOD
Bode, Sir, ¡.326(177 jBodwell, Earle, ii.260 Bodwell, Lord, ¡¡.263(43,45, &c.
Bodwine, Bp., ¡.96(154 Bodwim, Bishop, ¡¡¡.277(17; 280(72 Bolingbroke (Henry VII.)» ¡.274(37; ii. 241(73
Bolton, Lord Sc.rope of, iii 244(246 Bolton, Sir Robert, i.p.74 bondman, the Name and the Class; essay on, ii.xx.
bondmen, the King’s, ii.551,555 book, a French, ii.441(706 book, the, ¡.490(2180; 494(2313 book, swearing on a, ¡1.533(187 book, the great, of Rome, ii.371(821 booke and bell, swear, by, ii,574(407 Booker, ii.24(l, an almanack-maker of Charles II.’s time
Booth, Sir John, of Barton, ¡229(338; 326(173
Boothe of Dunham, i.277(124 Bordeaux, iii.407(90 Bordeaux, Huon of, iii.171(45 Bore, Sir, ¡.113(120, Bors Boroughbridge, i.293 Borron, Robert de, i,411 Bourron, Helie de, i.41.1 Bostock, Richard, author of the Earles off Chester, i.258, and Notes vol. i. Bostockes daughter, ¡.276(83 Bosworth, iii.357(927 Bosworth ffeilde, iii.233 Bosworth Field, iii. 166(93; 355(875; 357(929
Bosworth town, i.213(24 Boulogne, taking of, i.317 Boulton in Glendower, i.224(238; ?Bolton in Glendale
bow, good of shooting with the, i.217, note 8 Bowdrye, Sir Henry, iii.246(277 Bowes, Lord, iii.244(238 Bowes, Sir George, i.293; ii.215^125 Bowman, iii. 126(47 Bowmer, Sir Roger. iii.245(266 Boy and Mantle, ii.301 Bragas, Erie, i.354(5; 367(397; i.374( 633; 396(1324; 397(1378 Brakenbury, Sir Robert, iii.245(276 Brakenburye, iii.257(612 Bramaball More, i.300(8 Bramham Moor, i.293 Brampton, Battle of, i.211 Brancepeth, i.293 Brandon, Sir William, iii.258(619 Brankstone, or Flodden, battle of, i,202, 206, 228-34. See Notes to vol. i.
BUR
brass, an oracular head of, ii.397(128 398(141
Braunche, Sir William de la, ii.427(207; p. 428-32
Bredbeddle, Sir, i 67(159; ¡.71(242; is the Green Knight, i.70(213; ii.59(40; 62( 109 ;65(175, 187, 193, 66(211;67(248 Bremish river, i.225(259, note Bremor, Syr, thekyngof Spayne, ii.601(46;
602(81; 603(105; 605(198 Brereton, Sir William, i 277(110; 321(69
--------Sir Randle, ¡.227(116
Bretton, Humphrey, iii.331(249 ; 256(263; 333(311;336(391;340(502; 342(537 ; 345(623 347(663; 351(764 Bridge of Peril, ii.424(205; 428(324 Brinston,i.233(401; the village of Brankston Bristol, ii,193(63 ; iii.374(2;	375(25;
380(164; 383(250; iii.482(79; 483(95, 108-120; 484(129 Bristowe, ¡.493(2273, Bristol Bristow Taylor, as briske as, ii.45(29 Britaine, Little, i.62(15; 65(91; England Brittaine, i.499(27; iii.277(8 Briuse, Sir Robert, iii.3(7 Bruite, i.498(l; Brut Bromsgrove, the jovial Hunter of, i.p.74 Broninge, Sir, i.75(18 Brooke, Sail, ii.l46(16 Broomefield, i.281(244 Broughton, Sir Thomas, iii.247(318 Browne* iii.432(l3,17,29 passim Browne, Kinge James and, i. 135 Bruise, Robert, i.290(523 Brunne, Robert of, referred to, ii.406; & in Bondman essay, voi. ii.
Brute, the colonizer of England, i.213(18 Buchan, a daring forger, ii.269 note2 Buckingambetraydby Banister, ii.253 Buckingham, Edward, Duke of, i.324(136;
¡.329(255; 330(273; 334(374 Buckingham, the Duke of, i.215(65 Buckingham, Duke of, ii.255(6; 256(33, &c.; 257(61, &c.; 258(103, &c. Buckingham, the Duke of, iii.163(17;
166(79; 322(35; 323(60; 336(399 Bucklesfeildberry, i. 120(5; 121(13 Bullen, ¡.339(502, Boulogne Bullen, Godfrey of, iii. 171(41 Bulmer, Sir William, i.203; 220(157 Bun, the princess, i.401 Burgundy, Duke of, iii.l73(85 Burlonge, ¡1.126(1340;	127(1348; 128(
1396; 129(1411, &c.; 130(1442, &c.; 131(1468, &c.; 132^1501 Burlow-Beanie, the King of Cornwall’s fiend, i.71(236. This li lodly feend, with his seven fire-breatliing heads,was possiblyINDEX.
577
BUR
the Horned Gareloup or werewolf. Bean-nackis Gaelic and Irish for horned. Beanie may have been the Cornish.”—William Brockie.
Burton-upornTrent, ii. 193(58
Busye Hall, iii.211(2,5; 213(67; 214(79
Butler, i.326(177
Butler, Ellen,iii.212(21,25,27,29,33, passim Butler, Lady, iii.213(57; 214(81,87,89, 93,97,99
Butler, Sir John, iii.2 05 Butler, Sir John, iii.211(3
Cade’s, Jack, daughter, i.8 Cadiz,'ii.l45(l; iii.455(17; 456(53 Cadiz Voyage, ii.144 Cadwallo, i.246 Caerleon, ii.433(492 Caesar Iulyus, iii.171(59 Calais, i.215(71; 339(506; great gun of, ii.168(49
Cales, ii.145(1; iii.455(l7; 456(53 Cales Voyage, ii.144 Cales, Wininge of, iii.453 Call ice, i.318(9, Calais Caluarye, ii.85( 137; iii.72(372 Cambridge, i.510(40
Camden, the historian or antiquarian, i.2 77 (140
Came you not from Newcastle, i.2 53 Camelye, the castle of, i.302(48 Camfewe, Hery, iii.540(note 1	1
candlelight keeps out fiends, i.446(757 Canterbury, iii. 153(29
Canterbury, archbishop of, iii.152(22	*
Canterbury, bishop of, i.509(6 Canterbury, the see of, i.2S5(365 Captain Carre, i.79	1
Cardigan, ii.446(851; 447(864; 453(1053 Carle of Carlile, iii.275	'
Carle of Carlile, iii.280(97; 281(105, 108; 283(169
Carleile, ii.304(2; iii.77(24; 293(488	<
Carlile, the Countesse of ii.456(1139	1
Carlile, i.458(1159 ; iii.77(29 ; 77(38,	1
passim
Carlisle, i.l05(l; 107(20; 144(4; ii.61 (85, 89
Carlisle, Lord of, ii.!96(162; 197(177 Carlisle, Sheriff of, his son, i. 140(104	<
Carnakie (or Carnaby, i.306(160), John, < of, i.301(20	<
Carres in Tividale, the, i.294 Carthage, iii.261(1; 502(10; 505(89	(
Castle Flatting, ii.61 (86
castle, Yortiger’s, that was torn down every < night, i.436(9; 467(71	<
YOU. III.	p P
CIU
Cauentry, i.39(15; Coventry Cawline, Sir, iii. 1
Cawline, Sir, iii.3(12; 4(17, 30, 33, passim cent, per cent., ii. 182 Ceres, iii. 306(35 Cestos, iii.296(14 charcoal fire, ii.567(247; 571(331 Charlemagne, i.59; iii.l 72(77 Charlemount, i.l48(lll; Charlemagne Charles, King of France, ii.294(121 Chartley, Lord Ferrers of, iii.244(242 Chaucer’s rebuke of grasping lords and stewards, ii.553, 554 Chandos, a knight, ii.453(1037 Cheapside, Standard in, iii.483(89 checkmate with him, ii.589(793, right up to him
Chelt, the river, i.295 Cheshire, iii.248(362
Cheshire and Lancashire, ii.272(19, 23, 27 Cheshire men at Flodden, i.225(265 chess, ladies playing at, ii.275(92 Chester Abbey, i.290(509 Chester, Earl of, iii.l56(15; 475(2 Chester, Earles off, i.258 Chester Fair, i.2 66
Chestre, Thomas, translator of Sir Launfal, i. 142
Cheuy Chase, ii.l
Chevy Chase, ii.7(4, 13; 15(215; 16(236, 251
Child of Ell, the, i.132; 133(5 Child of Elle, ii.278 note Childe Maurice, ii.500 Childe Waters, ii.269
child’s voice; Charles Nevill, Earl of Westmoreland, had one, i.306(143; 309(246; 311(281
chimney, flinging of the, i.90; i.98(199,217 chip on his eye (Proverb), ii.342(68 Chirboroughe, iii.539(172; Cherbourg? Chorlton, Sir Richard, iii.246(278 ; 257 (614
Chortley Castle, i.289(481 Chrestien de Troyes, i.211 Christabell, ii.342(25,28; 345(129; 364 (618; 365(643,663; has a son, 369 (747; 371(813; marries her son Deg-rabell, 380(1065, and then her husband Eglainore, 388(1275 Christopher White, iii.494 Christ’s Church, iii.317(21 Churchlees, or Kirkleys, where Robin Hood was killed, i.53(3; 55(41,43; 57(92 churl and noble, the gulf between, i.248(4; iii. 136
Cinaris, iii.306(43 Ciuill Land, ¡.307(173,187578
INDEX,
CIU
Ciuillee, i.305(122; 307(187 ? Seville or Cicily
Claramande, ii.397(138; 398(158 Clarence, Duke of, iii.536(74; 537, note 6;
538(131,142 Clarke, David, i.276(97 Clarke, Philip, i.276(101 Clarrett, iii,126(49 clean, kept, in youth, ii.544(508 Cleves, i.317 Clifford, Lord, i.226(272 Chris, ii.21 ; 22(1; 23(21 Cloudeslee, William of, iii.76(ll; 78(44, 49,68, passim Cloudeslee, Younge, iii.102 Clough, Lord, ii.207(88 Clymm of the Cloughe, iii.76(30: 82(157 Clutton, Sir Robert of, iii.245(262 Clyfton, Sir G., iii.246(291 Cobham, Lord, i.330(279 Cockle, Sir John, ii.155(184 Codner, Lord Grey of, iii 244(237 Cœur de Lion, Richard, i.282(278; 283 (301; 284(338; 285(349; iii.l73(81 Colbrand, ii.533 Colebrande, Guy aDd, ii.509 Colbronde, Lunsford, ii.40(7 ; 41(17; 42 (39,43
Coleburne, Sir John, iii.247(327 collar, the sign of a gentleman, i.249(35; 250(61 ; the sign of knighthood, ii.590 (809
collar: after a collar comes a rope, ii.590 (815
Collen brand, i.68(167; 69(171,179, sword from Cologne Come, Come, Come, ii.52 Come my dainty doxeys, iii.313 Come pretty Wanton, iii.385 Comfort, Sir, iii 60(100 Compton, i.321(77
Confessor, Edward the, his laws, iii.l 55(79 Conqueror, William the, iii.l51 Conscience, ii.174
Conscience, ii.l84(21; 185(38; 186,49,65 Conscience, Court of, ii.l87(75 Constable, Cecil’s spy, i.294 Constable, Sir Marmaduke, iii.246(281 Constantine, Emperor of Rome, ii.368(729 Constantine, king of England, i.423(l4; dies, i.424(53
Conway, Sir Robert, iii.245(269 Conyers, Sir William, iii.246(283; 257(611 Cooke, ii.41(10 Coplande, John of, ii.198(206 ‘coq-à-l’âne,’ the French, i.241 Coridon, iii.530
Cornelius Agrippa, ii.525 (col. 1
DAN
Cornewall, Duke of, iii.438(31 Cornwall, King of, i.63(54,62 Cornwall, traditions of Arthur in, i.403 Cornwayle, the Erl of, one of Arthur’s council, 1.157(399 Corydon, iii.307(64 County Palatine, i.280(206 courtesv, boys sent to school to learn, i. 182(4
courtesy taught to boys, ii.96(468. See Lord of Learne, &c.
courtiers are jolly and needy, ii.567(239; 568(275-6
Coventry, i.40(29; 293; ii.40(5; 193(68;
201(8; 240(59; iii.475(3 Craddockes Lady, the only faithful one in Arthur’s Court, ii.308(99 ; 309(129; 310(171; 311(189 cranes for supper, ii.576(466 Craven, Skipton in, i.223(223 Crespy, i,318 Cressus, iii. 301
Cressus, iii.301(1; 302(11, Cressida Cressy, Battle of, ii.200(255 criticism, historical, very poor stuff, in John Dane’s opinion, ii.524
Cromwell Thomas Lord, fragment of a Ballad on, i.127
cross, keeps fiends out of a house, i.446 (761; 447(803
cross, headless, fight at the, i.310(254,2 66, (272
cuckolds’ horns, ii.402, note 2 Crumbocke, cow, ii.322(7; 323(17 -cth for-tcb, i.23(73, &c.
Culerton, ii.205(36
Cumbermeare, the Abbey of, i.280(217 Cunninge, Sir, iii.60(103 Cupid, ii.¿8(20; iii.305(25; 389(2 curlews for supper, ii.57 6(465 Curtesye, Sir, iii.60(103 Cuthbert’s banner, St., i.226(271 Cynthius, ii.54(54 Cyprus lie, i.283(302 Cytherea, iii.306(35
d and th, changes of, ii.411,412 notes Dacre, Edward, i.299,300 Dacre, Leonard, i.295
Dacres, Lord, i. 220(152; 229(331; 231 (371; iii.244(247; 247(313; 36l( 1 (27 Dade, an almanack-maker, ii.25(9 Dakers, Lord, 5.306(155; 307(169 Damiatte, i.289(468 Damyatte, i.288(451 Damietta, siege of, i.268 Dancastre (Doncaster), Sir Roger of, i.p. 51INDEX.
579
DAN
dancing, men, ii.579 Dane, Sir, i.326(185 Danibus, the vgly gyant, i.499(45 Daniel, ii.532(160
Danish axe, i.68(169; ii.512; 540(376 Danish giant Colbrand, ii.528(40 Danyell, iii.74(424
Darby, Earl*of, i.!29(9; 275(51; 290(506;
319(39; 320(61, &c. See Derby Darby, the dear Earl, i.215(66 Darbyshire, i.231(382 DarJcesome Cell, iii.123 Darlington, i.293 Darnall, i.290(514 David, King, iii 170(16 David, iii.70(332; 74(424 David of the Scotch royal line, i.290(501 David of Scotland, iii.459(2 dead, death, i.382(885 Death and Life, iii.49 Degrabell, son of Eglamore and Christabell, ii.371(801; 377(972; his wedding with his own mother Christabell, 380(1065, and then with Arnada, ii.388(1275 Degree, Sir, iii. 16
Degree, Sir, iii.20(5: 26(212, passim. A Degarer would no doubt be formed from a Low-Latin devagari, as degaster from devastare
Delacreese, the abbey of, i.289(480 Delamere Forest, ii.61(87 Delamont, Sir, i.218(212, La Mothe-Fe-ne'lon
Denbigh, i.282(267 Denise, St., ii.418(69 Denmarke, i.499(33 Denys, ii.41(10
Derby, Earl of, i.329(246; 335(388; iii. 322(20 :	355(863 ;	357(917 : 358
(931 ; 363(1071 ; 326(128 ; 327(154 ; 328(182; 331(272; 339(464; 343(576; 346(643. See Darby Derbyj the dear Earl of, i.212(10 Derbyshire, ii.192(51 Derngill, wife of John Balliol, i.290(520 Devonshire, iii.487(6; 489(50 Diana, iii.305(l7
Dido, iii.261(1, 9, 11,19 ; 262(21,29; 502 (11; 503(36; 504(55, 68; 505(101 Dieulacres Abbey, i.265(271; 289(480 Dighton, James, iii. 165(61 Diomede, iii.302(18
Disaware, the Lord of Learne’s name changed to, 1186(115; 189(201; 191 (245
Disconyus, Sir Lybius, iii.278(33 Dodcott, i.280(225 Dodsley, Robert, ii.279
EAG
dog and a bell lead a blind beggar, ii.283(74 Dogstarr, iii. 125(27
Don John of Austria, i.296; 304(81; his arms, and his way of brushing his hair, i.303, note 4 Dorchester, ii.41(26 Douglas (temp. James VI.), i. 137(9 Douglas, ii.193(53; 219(21 Douglas, Earl,ii.7(l5; 8(43,49; 9(69; 9(79;
11(110; 12(137, 143, 151, passim Douglas, James, ii.194(103; 195(109, See. Douglas, Mary, ii.219(26 Douglas, William, ii.l93(73; 194(85; 223 (132, 153; 224(178; 225(198, 203 Dove, ii.25(9 Dover, i.215(63
Dover, besieged by the Dauphin Louis, i. 287(408
Dover Castle, iii.152(17 Dractons-Borrow, i.83(80 dragon, near Rome, Eglamore’s fight with, ii 366-7
dragons, the two under Vortiger’s castle, i.
467(1465 to 470(1549 drink, stopping to, in the middle of a fight,
ii.	536
driven to a book, i. 155 (330; sworn as a jury
Drowning of Eenery 1. his children, the,
iii.	156
drunk, girl getting at the ale, i.446(773 Drurye, Sir William, ii.221(91 dryd, ii.533(180; tried?
Dudley, Lord, i.276(108
Duke Charles, iii.l73(85
Duke of France, i.188(161
Duke William, iii.l56(13
Dulake, Sir Lancelot, ii.66(218 ; iii.278(23
Dulake, Sir Lancelott of,iii.120(4; 121(41.
See Lancelot.
Dulcina, iii.l72(66 Dun bull, the Neville crest, i.304(95 Dun Bull, the Earl of Westmoreland’s crest, ii.214(118; 216(156 Dun Cow of Dunsmore Heath, ii.201(ll Dunsmore Heath, ii.201(9 Durham, i.254(l 1; i.293 • ii.l95(110, 113;
196(153, 157; 197(170;200(253 Durham, Bishop of, ii.l96(147; 197(165, 173, 185, 189; 564(178; iii.354(853 Durham Feilde, ii.190 Dutton, i.326(185 Duzeper, ii.l73(167 Dyana, iii. 125(21
eagle of the Stanleys, i.21; iii.340(535 Eagle an (Lord Derby), iii.l90(21
P P 2580
INDEX.
EAR
Earl Douglas, ii.7(15; 8(43, 49; 9(69; 9(79; 11(110; 12(137,	143, 151,
passim
Earl of Mars, iii.217(37; 221(151; 222 (159; 223(205; 225(239; 259(261; 228(339,341; 229(349,351,359 Earl Percy, ii.7(6,17 ; 9(55,74; 10(84, 85,91; 11(129; 12(137,148,149, passim 196(155; 210(13 Earle of Wesimorlande, i.292 Earle Bodioell, ii.260 Earles off Chester, i.258 Eaton Water, i.243(5 Echo, iii.306(42
Edinburgh, i. 139(72; ii.l 5(225 ; iii.223 (189, 201; 495(13; 496(32, 39, 51 Edinburgh, i.177(44 Edinburgh Castle, ii.220(52 Edinburgh, Sir Richard of, ii,193(6l Edmond, King of Satlin, ii.362(582 Edom o' Gordon or Captaine Carre, i.79 Edward the Confessor’s laws, iii.l 55(79 Edward I., i.291(530
Edward I., Longshanks, ii.557 12; 558 (17; and all through John de Reeue, ii.557; 594(910
Edward III., ii.191(5; 569(293; iii.173 (83; 236(26; 459(1 Edward the third, iii.457 Edward IV., ii.255(7; iii.l63(2 Edward the ffourth his sonnes, the murther-ing of iii.l62
Edward VI., i.125(2; iii.l67(110 Egace, or Sir Eger, i.354(24, &c.
Eger # Grine, 1341 (correct Grine to Grime, see ii.65, note i)
Egerton, descended from Philip Clarke, 1276(102
Egerton, Sir John of, i!14(190 Egerton, Sir Raphe, 1320(53; 321(79; 334(374
Egerton, Sir Rowland, 1337(441-5, 457;
338(473-8 Egil, ii.519
Eginion ap David, 1276(91 Eglamore, ii.338 Eglintone, Lord, 1352 Egrabell, Sir, 175(1; 76(37 Egramye or Egranye, Sir, 1371(554-5; 372^565
Egypt., King Marmaduke of, ii.372 827; 373(851
Elianfewe, Hette, iii.540, note 1 Elderton, the ballad-writer, i. 135 Eidridge hill, iii.6(62; 9(112 Eldridge, King, the, iii.6(66; 8(102; 9 (116, passim
Elinor, Queen, i. 168(48; 166(5
FES
Elizabeth of Yorkshire, Henry VII.’s queen, ii.313(35
Elizabeth, Queen, i.292; 300(6; ii.317 (127, 134; iii.167(122 Ell, the Child of i.l 32 Ellen (8c Childe Waters), ii.272(13, &c. Ellen, see Hellen Elliots, the, i.294 Ely, thi Bishop of, i.223(213 Emanuell, iii.272(9
Emperor, an, wanted for a correct wedding, ii.338(1269, and note Emperor of Greece, ii.393(2 Emperor of Rome, ii.367(710 Emyas, Gray-Steele’s daughter, marries Pallyas, i.399(1438; and has 3 children, 400(1462
England, formerly Mikle Brittaine, i.425(82 Englande, the rose of, iii. 187 Erkyin, i.372(557; Egeking, i.373(593; 386(1005; Sir Egramye’s sword, i.387 (1045
Esau, iii.70(329
Escalberd, Arthur’s sword, i.505(206; is caught by a hand and an arm, i.506(228 Essex, Erie of, iii.454(9; 455(33 Estmere, our King, ii 297(11; same as Ar-dine, 297(16
Estrilde, iii.438(29-37; 439(60, 62; 488 (26, 34, 43 Ethelwold, iii.490(10l Euphemian, ii;525-6 Eve, iii.70(326; 170(11 Ewaine, Sir, ii.425(460; 426(268; iii.278 (25
Exeter, Bishop of, iii.482(83 Exeter, Duke of, iii.534(27; 538(124 eyes, grey, ii.450(949
Fainewolde I change, ii.46 faire words make fooles faine, ii.224(179; 225(187
Fairfax’s Tasso; Lane on, in 1617; ii.525, col. 2
Fairy Queen, ii.303
Fall of Princes, the, iii. 168
Farncse, Alexander, i.515
Fawne, Sir Alexander, iii.247(316
Felix, Dame, ii.530(89
Fellton, Jacke, ii.l45(8
Felys, Guy’s wife, ii.515
fennel hangs green in June, ii.463(1322
Feragus, King, ii.398(l 52
Ferdinando, King of Spayne, ii.316(101
Ferniherst, i.294
Ferrers, Lord, iii.257(605; 349(731 Festus, iii.272(lINDEX.
581
FIE
fiends of the air who can beget children on women, i.440, 447
.finger, little, a token of victory, i.75(6; i.77(43; cut off by the victor, i.360(192, 196; 367(422,424;	368(457; 371
(536
Fitton of Gawsworth, i.326(189 Fitzhugh, Lord, iii.244(245j Fitzhugh, Robert, Baron of Malpas, i. 276(85
Fitz-Norman, Robert, i.274(41 Fitzwater, Lord, i.329(527 ; 230(277 Fitzwilliam, at Flodden, i.229(342 Fitzwilliams, Lords, ii.196(163; 197(179 Flanders, Earl of, iii.449(131 Flanders files, ii.208(124 Flatting Castle, ii.61 (86 Flint, i.282(267
Flodden, battle of, i.202, 206, 228-34
Flodden Feilde, i.313
Flora, iii.l57(25; 306(38
Florimel, girdle of, ii.303
Foelix,Guy’s wife, ii.543(472,481; 544(492;
546(537; 547(563; 548(590-608 folio, wrongly applied to a leaf of a MS. instead of two pages spread open, 1,14, note 3
Fontaines abey, 3.27(15 Forbidden Country, the, Gray Steele’s land, i.357(102; 347, 350; i.383(940 forest, a night in the, ii.437(596-606 Forest of Delamere, ii.61(87 fornication or adultery; burying alive was the old English punishment for, i.442 (654-61
Forrest, Miles, iii. 165(61 forty day.s, i.77(54; i.l70(93, the time for grace
forty days’ feast, ii.453(1053; 498, 499 forty days’ wedding feast, ii.388(l281 Foster, Sir John, ii.222(107 fowl, the fairest that ever flew; the eagle of the Stanleys, i.223(231 Fox, his Martyres, iii.272(l6 France, boy sent into, to learn languages, i.l83(40
France, King of, ii.291 (8; 393(4; 395 (58; 396(97; iii.350(749 Franciscan friars’ short frocks-, i.27, note1; 29, note1
French horses, poor ones, ii.293 Frenchmen feared Henry VII.,* i.214(39, and Henry. VIII., i.214(51 friendshi of sworn brethren, i.345 Froland, i.499(43, Frollo fuel scarce, ii.565(194 Fullshow, i. 229(347, I think, Walshcno, Brockie
GIL
Fundus, King, i.372(560 Fyenys, ii.41(12
gabs made by Charlemagne, &c., i.p.59 Gaines, iii. 173(83 Gaion, Sir, i. 14 5(35 Galloway, 1219(133; iii.70(340 Galloway, Allen, Lord of, i.290(518 Galloway, traditions of Arthur in, i.403 Galiya, now called France, i.499(41 Gamor, Sir, i.492(2256 Ganselo, iii. 508(15,29; 509(42,61; 510 (87, 95, passim
Gares, Erie, i.377(730, 743; 393(1239; 398(1398
Garrett, Sir, i.H3(121; i.l45(41, Gareth Garsed, Jamie, i.329(241; 331(303; 333 (335
Garnvvicke, i. 396(1346 Gasconie, iii.l73(83
Gawaine, i.61(l; 66(136; 67(144; 155 (354; 157(421; dies, i.500(73; appears to Arthur, i,502(103; ii.60(46, 64; 61 (70; 64(164; 65(182,188,196; 66(223; 67(236, 245, 254, 258; ii.68(259, 268; 69(293, 298; 70(321, 338; 71(362; 72 (370, 382; 73(403, 412, 416, 420; 74 (421, 429,433; 75(455,459,461,470; 76 (478 ;76(500; 77(509.Lybius, his bastard, ii.405; teaches Lybius, ii.4l9(94; 423 (194; 425(257; 457(1164; 479(1754f 494(2173; blesses Lvbius, his son, ii. 498; iii.70(340; 172(75; 277(7; 278 (28; 279(38;280(71,83¡281(115,124; 282(133, 155; 285(221; 289(335 Gawaine & the Turke, i.90 Gawaine; Sir R. Lee descended from, 143(84 Gawaine, the Marriage of. i.l03 Gawsworth, Fitton of, 1326(189 Geffelett, Sir, ii.472(1566 ; 474(1621 ; ‘ 483(1868
Gefferon, or Giffron la Fraudens ii.445(802;
444(782, 792; 445(823 to 453(1035 Genches, Dame, ii.515 Gentle Heardsman, iii.524 gentles’ blood not to be set with bondmen’s, ii.573(385. See Introduction to Glus-gerion, ii.247-8; 249(79, & Thomas of Potte
Geoffrey’s (Henry the Second’s son’&) widow, 1282(259; i.264
Gerard of Cornwall, or Cornubyence, ii.511, 521, col. 2
Gerrard, Sir Thomas, i, 230(360 Gesta Romanoruin, ii.303 Gibcliffe or Guvcliffe, ii. 516 Gilboa, iii. 70(331582
INDEX.
GIL
Gildas, i.402, 404 Gildas, Life of, i.402, 404 Gilford Greene, iii 140(90; 142(158; 143 (186; 146(268
ginger, powder of, in wine, ii.579(522 Ginglaine, Gawaine’s bastard, ii.416(7, 13, 32; christened Lybius Disconius by-Arthur, ii,418(80 Ginnye his Filly, ii.401(12 Giraldus Cambrensis on Arthur’s tomb, i.402
Misborne, Guye of,J ii.227 Glanville, Randle, i.267 Glasenburye, i.496(2372; ii.417(41, Glastonbury
Glasgerion, i. 246 Glendower, Bolton in, i.224(238 Glenkindie, i.246(3
Gloster, Erie of, i.279(193; ii.564(179; iii. 539(171
Gloucester, ii. 146(32
Gloucester, Richard Duke of, iii. 163(5; 164 (41; 165(57 Glyn, John, i.316 go, suck thy dame, ii.424(230 God before, iii. 30(304, God going before, God giving his aid
gods forbott, i.l8(59, see note1; 30(64; 393(1230
Godfrey of Bullen, iii. 171(41 Godiva, iii, 475(13
gold; Prov. a man may buy gold too dear, i.187(156
gold wire likened to a girl’s cheeks, i.148 (131; to her hair, ii.450(94, &c; both red
Golyas, iii.l70(16 Gordon, iii.413(205, 212, 216 Gordon’s Lute-Book, i.343 Gornordine, the sowdan, i.376(691, 700,704 Gorwaine, Sir Terry of, ii.52 7(26 Gotheland, i.499(35 Gower’s Story of Florent, i. 104(7 grass-green soothing drink, Loosepain’s wonderful one, i.363(291 Gray, Sir John the, iii.245(273 Gray Steil, i.342-3; i.352 Gray Steele, Sir, i.365(345,356; 377(737; 381(864; 382(890; described 384(953; his fight with Sir Grime, i.385- 8, & death, 388(1088
Graystocke, Lord, iii.245(257
Great or Proude, iii.391
Grecian Emperor, i. 499(39
Grecya, iii.504(80
Grecyan land, the, ii.393(1
Greekes sea, i.372(561
Green Knight, the; Sir Bredbeddle, i.70
HAR
(213, 221; ii.56; 62(109; 65(175, 187, 193; 66(211; 67(248; 71(340,361; 73(415; 74(442; 75(451; 77)511; iii. 278(27; 279(38
Greene Chappell, the, ii.64(149 ; 65(198; 67(233; 69(287; 71(343; 75(448; 76 (484; 77(503 Greenham, iii.273(40 Gresley, Johannes, ii.523, col. 1 Griffine, Sir, i. 145(41 Grime, Sir, Lord of Garwicke, i.354(20 Grime, his fight with Sir Gray Steele, i. 385-9
Grissell, iii 424(23, 26; 425(55, passim Groby, Lord Ferrers of, iii. 244(242 Gromer, Sir i. 102(320, 329 Gromersomer, Sir i.l06(62; 107(73 Guenevere, Queen, i.61(5; 105(3; 115(592; 118(207; desires Lambwell’s love, i.152 (236, 249; 159(487; 500(65; ii.59(l7; 305(15; 306(33; 309(131 Guendoline, Queen, iii. 438(25, 41; 439 (55, 64
Guilpin quoted, i. 181 Gunild or Gurder, i,166(l Gurnon (or Gernon), Randulphe, 3rd Earl of Chester, i.278(157 Guye-tf Amarant, ii. 136 Guy cf Colebrande, ii.509 Guy cf Phillis, ii.201,608 Guy of Lusignan, i. 283(287 Guy of Warwick, ii. 136(1, &c.; 137(31, &c.; 138(50, &c.; 139(80; 140(133; 141(151, &c.; 143(194; 231(85, &c.; 232(115; 233(121, &c.; 234(139, &c.; 235(175, &c.; iii.l 71 (44 Guye of Gisborne, ii.227 Gyfre my knave, i.144 Gyle, St., sworn by, ii.438(618; 445(807 Gyles, Sir, i.235(12; 239(87,90 Gynye, i.339(498, Guisnes
Haion, Sir, i.l51(222; 155(254; 160(504 hair, like gold wire, ii.450(944 Hale, Archdeacon, his opinion on John de Reeve, ii.556-7
Half-moon, the Earl of Northumberland’s badge, ii 214(122 Halton, Nigel of, i.274(25 Hambleton, James, iii.413(217 Hambleton, Lord of, ii.l93(C9 hand, holding up the as a pledge, ii.574 (414
Hannibal, iii.l 70(29 Hans, town, i.339(498 Harbyelowrie, iii.142(140 IJarcliffe, Sir James, ii.l4(192INDEX
583
HAR
Harcliffe, Sir Robert, ii.14(191 Harcliffe, Sir Roger Heuer of, ii.15(205 Harcliffe, Sir William, ii.14(191 Harding or Hawardin Castle, i.275.(53 Harebottle, Sir Ralph, iii.245(258 Harffleete (Harileur), ii. 167(39 Harley Woods, ii.223(138 Harold, i.2 73(1
Harrington, Sir James, iii.247(332 Harrington, Sir Robert, iii.248(333 Harrington, Sir William, iii.354(859; 360 (992,1005; 362(1036 Harry, King, i. 130(4
Harry, King, the wife of Queen Elinor, i.
173(199 Hartlepool, i.294 hart’s head, iii. 194(113 Harwich, ii.482(67 Haryngton, Lord, iii.538(136 Hassall, the hind, i.330(281 Hastings, Henry, i.291(526 Hatteley, Sir Henry, iii. 245(268 Hattersey, iii.250(412 Hauforde, i.229(345,	? Holford
Hawarde, Sir Edmond, i.315 Hawarde, Thomas, Duke of North folk, at Flodden, i.208, note 1 head-gear, a gill’s, ii.330(65 Hearne (Heron) the bastard, i.220(161 Hector; mere historians may doubt of him, ii.524
Hector of Troy,ii.225(207; iii.70(338; 170 (33
Hee is a ffoole, iii.386 Helen (daughter of the King of Hungary), ii.l02(648; 107(772; 135(1587 Hellen, iii.299(101
Hellen, the maiden of the Lady of Sinadone,
ii.	420(121 ; 422(157; 424(220; 425 (238; 427(297; 433(478; 437(589; 439(658; 443(757; 447(871; 448(895; 454(1060; 455(1084; 458(1180; 461 1279; 464(1334; 472(1544; 473(1588; 479(1771
Hellespont, iii.297(17,36 passim Henault, Sir John, iii.481 (46 Henery I. his children, the Drowning of) iii. 156
Henry I., iii 156(1 Henry II., ii. 148(1
Henry III. crowned (at Glo’ster Oct. 28, 1216), i.287(420
Henry V., ii.l67(27; iii.l73(84; 534(11 . Henry V., his siege of Rouen, iii.532 Henry VL, iii.236(20; 323(63 Henry VII., his landing at Miifurd, i.212(7; his reign, i.214(36; crowned at Bosworth,
iii,	166(104
HON
Henry VII., ii.312; iii.236(8,24; 237(34; 251(428,440,449
Henry VIII., his expedition into France in 1513, i.200; in 1513 and 1544, i.317-18 Heni-y VIII., i. 214(49 ; his invasion of France and siege of Turenne, i.215—16 Henry V1IL, ii.316(l 15 to 317(128; iii.166 (107; 173(91; 263(47; 403(3; 404(8 passim
Henry, King of England, i.41(52; i.43(78, &c.; ii.l6(233
Heraud, tutor of Guy’s son, ii.520 Hercules, iii. 170(20; 306(51 Hereford, iii.484(127,132,145 Herefford and Norfolhe, ii.238 Hereford, Bp. of, i.43(85; i.45(114 Hereford, Duke of, ii.238(5; 239(11, &c.;
240(38, &c.; 241(74, &c.
Herefordshire and Morris-dancers, i.38 Heremus, i.418 10; may be Snowdon, or any other desolate mountain. The word seems to be Greek: Eremos, desert.— Brockie
Herlott, i.2 73(7 ; Adotta, William the Conqueror’s mother Hermes, iii.307(79 Herne, Sir Roger, iii.247(331 Hero, iii.297(24,32,37,43, passim Hero and Leander, iii 295 Herod, King, iii.171(53 herons for supper, ii. 576(466 hert (hart), Twety on the, ii.351, note * Heuer, Sir Roger, ii. 15(205 Hickathrift, ii.517 High Peak, ii.!92(51 Hind, Sir, iii.60( 101
Hippeau, M., his edition of Le Bel Incornili, ii.406; of Lybeaus Disconius, ii.412 Hippon, iii.346(657
historian, the mere, is most malignant toward the Poet historical, ii.524, col. 1-2 Hobby Noble, ii.204(20; 205(24, &c.; 206 (62; 207(96; 208(108, &c.; 209(136, &c. See Notes to voi. ii.
Hobkin long, ii.575(422 Hob of the Lath, ii.578(512 ; 579(527, 537; 580(542; 583(624; 593(896 Hodgkin, long, ii.578(512; 583(624; 584 (641,649; 543(896 Holcroft, iii.212(41 Hollowe me Fancy, ii.30 Holt, Castle of, iii.248(358 Holy Ghost, the inspirer of learning, i.182 (12
Holy Land, i.284(322; ii.376(945 ; iii.243 (^209; 471(7
homemade brown, a hood of, ii.569(283 Honor, Sir ii'. 60(104Ô84
INDEX.
HOP
Hope, Sir, iii.60(101 Hope Castle, i.275(53 Hope, the manor of, i.328 Hopedale, i.328(235 Horn and Rimnild, ii.303,304 horn, the testing, ii.301-2 horn that no Cuckold can drink from without spilling, ii.311(l79; ii.301 home and lease, i.338(470, ? horn and the lace or cord to it horns, cuckolds’, ii.402(33, note Horrtton, Sir John, iii.247(310 Horseley, iii.413(211, 224, passim Horsley, Sir Oliver, iii.245(263 Horsley, William, iii.406(56, 57 Horswood, iii.492(169 Horton, Sir Richard, iii.246(286 How fayre she he, ii.50 Howard, Lord, iii.454(7; 408(97; 409 (117; 411(162, passim Howard, Lord Charles, iii.405(29, 37; 406 (66; 407(73
Howard, Lord Thomas, leads the van at Flodden, i.225(262
Howard, Sir Edmund, i.225(264; i.205
Howards, the, i.313
Howbrame town, ii.209(140
Howbrame Wood, ii.206(64; 209(148
Hugh Spencer, ii.290
Hugo, King of Constantinople, i.59,60
Humber, King, iii.437(1,6,10,11
Hume, Lord, i.294; 301(27, 35; ii.220(53
Hungary, ii.94(404; 104(689; 124(1286;
127(1354; 133(1537; iii.263(6 Hungary, King of, ii.102(644 Hunsden, Lord, ii.221(87; 222(123 Hunston, Lord, i.295
Hunt, Henry, iii.407(77, 81; 408(101, passim
Hunting of the Gods, iii.303 Huntingdon, Earl of, i.282(265; iii.539 ’	(169
Huntingdon, Sir John, iii.246(299
Huntley, Lord, i.l26(25
Huon, Sir, i. 145(35; 159(463. Sen Hction
Huon of Bordeaux, iii 171(45
Hurlstean, S r John, iii. 247(330
Hutton Castle, ii.76(494
Hymen, iii.305(33
I am .... iii.529 I haue a loue thats faire, i.255 I Hue where I loue, ii.325 Ignobytes, iii.306(49
lie dore, ii.464(1336; 465(1377; the Golden Isle
In olde times paste, iii.119
JOH
In the Hayes of Olde, iii 441 increase and waning of a knight’s strength, i.382(891-4 Inde, silk of, i.384(973 Ingleby, Isabel, i.299 Inglewood Forest, i.l 06(16; i 109(217 inn, at a burgess’s house, i.378(763; i.390 (1136
Innocent III., i.285(37l; 286(382 Ireland, i.499(33 Irish knife, ii.234(l67; 236(219 Iron, or Irowne, ii.481(1804, 1807; 486 (1947 to 491(2091
Ironside, Sir, i.!46(43, iii.278(35, 37; 279 (49
Isabel, Queen, iii.480(9 Isacc, iii.7 4(423 Isace, iii.70(329
Isarell, the King of, ii.370(782; 377(960;
378(993 Iseland, i.499(35 Italian singers, i.180
Jack or Jill, ii.585 676 Jacob, iii.7 0(328
Jame, St., ii.418(61, 76; 432(442; 439 (643; 442(718
James IV., Lamentation of, i.211; death of, i.208
James IY., i.342; i.231(373 James Y. i.343
James VI. of Scotland and I. of England,
i.	l35; 1.130(12,15; saved by Browne,
ii.	267 ; ii.315(78 ; 317(149; iii.167 (123
James, King of Scotland, ii. 16(229 Jason, iii.l71(49 Jehosaphat, Valley of, iii.373(46 Jerusalem, i.283(290; 288(444; 289(466;
ii.83(137; iii.72(368; 75(457; 534(16 Jesu, iii.70(345; 72(368; 75(457 Jesus leeve, ii.150(176, by dear Jesus! Jesus; the Devil’s scheme to upset his redemption for man, i.441 Jew, hard-hearted, i. 184(64 Jigge, A, ii.334: Ital. contadinellas ayongue or pretty country wench. Also country songes or gigges. Florio Joan, Pope, ii 402(52 Jockye, Lord, iii.l41(122; 142(134 John a Side, ii.203
John-a-Side, r.204(2,15,23; 206(71; 207 (98 &c.; 208(113 &c.; 209(139 &c. John He Reeue, ii.550. See “ Bondman ” Essay in vol. ii.
John, King, and the Bishop of Canterbury, i.508(514INDEX.
585
JOH
John, King, dies (17 Oct. 1216) i.287 (410
John, Little, i.40(35. See Little John John of the Scales, i.l75(ll, &c.
John Stewards wide, ii.502(9; 503(37; 505 (107; 506(113
John’s reign, King, i.285(362 to 287(410
Jonathan, iii.70(331
Joppa, i.283(290
Jordan, ii.85(136; 425(251
Joseph, iii.70(328
Josua, iii.70(328
Josua, Duke, iii.l70(l7, 21
Jove, ii.29(27; iii.261(16; 307(78, 82
Jowler, iii.l26(47
Judicium Dei, the, i.166(11
July us Caesar, iii.171(59
Julyus Machabeus, iii.171(43
Juno, ii.29(26; iii.306(39
Jury, i.289(468,470, Judaea
Justice Cell, ii.l46(31
Kahames, William of, i.261 Katherine, Princess of Wales, ii.316( 103 Katherine, Princess, ii.l73(169,179 Katherine, Queen, her letters to Hen. VIII.
and Wolsey after Flodden, i.316,17 Katherine, Quene, i.37 Kay of Kaynes, a Northern Knight, i.37 6 (707
Kay, Sir, i.91(20; ii.64( 154,160; iii.277 (22; 280(71,77; 281(103,119,128; 282 ,(147; 286(249
Kay, that crabbed Knight, i 145(37
Kay’s lady is faithless, ii.307
Keeglye, Sir Henry, i.230(359
Kelsall Wood, i. 244(25
Kent, iii.152(15; 153(28
Kent, Earl of, iii.244(227
Ker, Sir Thomas, i.294
kerchers of silke, ii.566(226
Kester (Stewart), iii.224(221
Kevelocke, Hugh,, 5th Earl of Chester, i.
281(238 Highlye, i.32 5 Killingworth, ii. 193(58 Kinderton, the Baron of, i. 229(344; 277 (126;326(187
King Arthur and the King of Cornwall^ i.59 King Arthur, iii. 172(73. See Arthur King Edgar, iii.487(l* 21 King Edward II., iii.480(8; 482(73 King Estmere, ii.200, note; Appendix ii. King Harry’s hose, ii.324(49 Kinge James and Browne, i.l 35 King John and Abbot, ii.278, note King of Man, i.330(275
LAN
Kinge Adler, ii.296 Kinge and Miller, ii.l47 Kinge Arthur's Death, i.497 Kinge Edgar, iii.485 Kinge James and Browne, i.l35 Kinge John and Bishoppe, i.508 King’s, the, fraternizing with the commonalty, ii.147,550; iii. “ The Pore Man and the Kinge.”
Kirion the Pale, i.246 kirtle of silk, ii.329(35,37,41 kiss, the Lady of Sinadone’s, ii.422, note 6; 493(2150
kiss to make up a quarrel, ii.592(864 knee, to fall upon the, before a lord or lady, i.l89(192, note2 Knight, the Green, iii.278(27 Knighton’s Chronicle quoted, ii.512 Knowsley, i.327(213
lace of silk, the magic, ii.73(397; 74(427: 76(479
Lacys’ name, i.274(26 ladies’ bedchambers, knights going to, ii.365(643
ladies cutting silk and sewing, ii.298(72: 299(76
ladies healing the wounded. ii.368(737 ladies, old tests of their frailty, ii.301-4 lady, Geffron’s beautiful one described, ii.449(931-54; Lambwell’s, i. 148 j Lady Life, iii.
Lady Bessye, iii.322(14 Laclye Bessiye, iii.319 Lady Butler, iii.213(57 Lady Gray, iii 214(100 Lady Mary, iii.157(18 Ladye, our, ii 274(64 Ladyes ffall, ii.246
Lamberd, Sir, ii.473(1595; 475(1640 to 483(1861; 496(2207; 497(2237 Lambewell, SaV, i.l42. As to his liberality, cp. Qui vient est beau, qui apporte encore plus beau: Prov. No man’s esteemed so faire as he that comes full-handed.—Cot. For the Oxford fragments of the old printed edition, see Appendix to vol. i. Lambwell, Sir David, ii. 15(207 Lancashire, ii.557(8
Lancashire and Cheshire, i.319(37; 320 (49,57,63; 322(111; i.333(341,34 9; they have done the deed, i.334(368-70, but see, i.207-8; ¡.335(391; i.340(508 Lancashire Song, i.241 Lancaster, i.327(205; iii.243(203 Lancelot, i.l 12(116; i.166; i.501 (75; 502(109; ii.451(1002; iii.70(339586
INDEX.
LAN
Lancelots of Dulake, iii.l20(4; 121(41; iii.l72(76
Lancelot, the Romance of, ii.303 Landreci, i.317
Lane, John, address to the Reader on Guy of Warwick, ii.521-5 Langton Stephen, i.285(368; 286(376 Latham, Lord Derby’s place, i.325(159; i.327(209; iii,190(24; 248(347; 254 (514; 324(70; 334(334,348; 352(805 Latham gates, iii.334(350 Latham of Lancashire, iii.359(974 Laurence, John, of Lancashire, i.230(348 Lauinian, iii.311(l Lauinian Shore, The, iii.308 Layamon, i.410 Layston, ii. 146(24 Lazarus, ii.532(158 Lealand, the lusty, i 330(282 Leander, iii.296(9 31,35,39, passim Lee, Peeter, iii.213(48 Lee, Piers of, iii.214(91 Lee, Sir Richard, i.43(81 Leicester, i.214(33; ii.313(23; iii.258(641;
352(801; 362(1055 Leo X., i.201, 209 Leoffricus, iii.473; 475(1 Leonades, iii.70(339 Lepanto, i.298 Leslie, ii.34(13
Lewis, i.287(429; the dauphin Louis, in 1217 A.D.
Libius Disconius, ii.404-499 lice, ii.151(68, 71
Lichfield, iii.249(390; 250(393, 397, 401;
357(923 Liddesdale, i.294 Liffe, Sir, iii.60(102 Ligny, i.317
liking, i.333(359, spouse, wife Likinge, Sir, iii.60(102 Liles, Lord, iii.346(641 Lin, the Mayor’s daughter of, i.235(5 Lincoln, i.261; 287(426; ii. 193(71; siege of, i.279(173
Lincoln, Earl of, i,282(265; iii.244(229 Lincoln green, i. 15(5; 36(15 Lincolnshire, ii. 193(71 Lisle, Lord, iii.349(729 Listen, Jolly Gentlemen, i.130 Little John, ii.228(13;‘229(31; 230(55, &c.; 231(81, &c.; 236(207, &c.; 237 (233; i.40(35
Little John, the Beggar, cf the three Palmers, i.47
Littlebury, i.275(74
Locrin, King, iii.437(4; 438(37
London, i.40(40; lovely London, i.42(73;
LYO
82(64; 319(31; 334(363; cp. Dunbar’s poem, ‘ London! thowe arte of townes a per se,’ Reliq, Ant. i. 205; Laing’s Suppl. to Dunbar’s Works
London, i.501(78; ii.l86(60; 191(23; 192 (25; 194(87; 199(224,225; 211(19"; 215(137; 221(104; 502(13; 503(45; iii. 152(14; 212(31; 213(57,61; 214(81; 322(19; 333(318; 338(435, 449, 455, 456; 341(532; 352(807; 408(95; 482 (77, 82; 483(92; 497(53 London gates, iii.333(319 London, Mayor of, iii.483(85 Lonelich, Herry’s, Merlin, i.419 Longborth, Battle of, i.401, 407 Loospaine or Loosepine, Lady—first named at i.398(1406-7,—i.362(244; 378(772; 379, &c.; i.391, 394; marries Gryme, i. 398(1406; has ten children, i.399(1458; i.348-50
Lord Barnard the little Mttsgrave, i.l 19 Lord Barnett or Barnard, i.l21(17, 31 Lord Gray, iii. 164(21 Lord of Learne, i. 180 Lord Richard, iii.l 56(14 Lord Percy, ii.218(16, 20; 225(197; 226 (214
Lord Rivers, iii.l64(23.
Lord Strange, iii.324(69 Lords, setter of the, iii.264(16 Lothaine, Sir Lott of, iii.278(26 Lough Leven, ii.221(103; 222(127; 223 (146, 147; 224(163, 176 Louis, son of Philip of France, invades England (21 May, 1216), 1287(405; quits it (11 Sept. 1217), i.287(434 Loue, Sir, iii.60(l 02 love-sick knight, ii.345(112 Loxley, the river, i.38 Loxly (Robin Hood), i.40(34; 43(93, 97 Lucifer and the fallen Angels, i.440 Lucifer, iii. 73(416 Lucina, iii. 305(13
Lucyes, the Emperour of Roorne, i.499(49 Lukin, Duke of Gloster, i.504(161; 505 (204; flings Escalberd into the river, 506(227; dies, ,507(247 Lulla: Lull a, jij.387
Lumley, Lord, i.226(270; for Sir Marina-duke Constable, i.205 Lumley, Lord, iii.245(250 Lunsford, Colbronde, ii.40(7; 41(17; 42 (39, 43
Lupus, Hugh, i,273(17; 278(158 Lydgate’s Guy of Warwick, ii.514, 520-1 Lynet, the damoysel, i. 145, note 5 Lyones, Dame, of the Caste] Peryllous, i.145, note bINDEX.
587
MAB
Mabam, ii.481(180.3; 486(1947 to 491 (2083
Mable, the book of, i.306(141; 309(243 Mabinogion, the, i.407 Macliabeus, July us, iii.l 71 (43 Maclefeild, Sir Thomas, iii.247(324 Mad Tom, iii.l24(3 Maelgoun, or Maglocunus, i. 402 Major, Sir John, i.516(5 Malador, Sir, i.492(2261 Malbancke, Hugh, i.280(215,220 Malbeddinge, Win., Baron of Nantwich, i. 275(57
Maleore’s abstract of the French Arthur Romances, i.412,414 Maligo sacke, iii,126(51 Mallinere, Sir Richard the, iii.247(309 Mallynere, Sir Thomas, iii.247^311 Malpas, iii.347(676 Malpas, Baron of, i.276(86 Mamasse, giant Marrocke’s brother, ii.358 (470
Man, Isle of; giants in, i.88 Man, the King of (Earl of Darby), i. 320 (48; 322(96; 95(129 Manchester, iii.240(115; 324(76; 336(384, 385
Mangerton, Lord, ii.204(8; 207(80; 209 (156
Mangys, the giant as black as pitch, ii.464 (1342; 465(1378 to 470(1502 Manners, Sir Richard, iii.245(267 Mansfield, ii.l53(126; iii.l03(19; 105(76 Mantle, the Boy and, ii.301 Map, Walter, i.411 Marc, King, ii.304 Marchalle, Earl, iii.538( 132 Margaret, Queen, ii.80(10; 95(440; 134 (1555
Margarett, daughter of Henry VII., ii.317 (115
Margrett, ii.335(l Marke Anthony, ii.28(7,15 Marke More,iii.l31(89: 97(113; 132(123, passim
Marhe more ffoole, iii. 127 Markenfield, Thomas, i.299; or Martin-field, i,301(14; 302(61; 310(269 Marmaduke, King of Egvpt, ii.373(851;
378(1008; 379(1040; 380(1049 Marradas, Sir, ii. 120(1157; 121(1189; 122(1207; 123(1241; 126(1333; 130 (1463
Marramiles, Sir, i.62(26; 71(240,244,250; 72(252
Marrocke, Sir, the giant whom Eglamore kills, ii. 349(239; 351(294 to 353(341; 358(469
MER
Marrocke, Sir (Triamore’s steward), ii.81 (13; 82(51; 83(70, 79; 84(97; 86(158, 174; 87(196,205; 91(308,323; 92(328; 99(550; 100(569,585; 133(1528 Marrocke, Sir, iii.277(21 Marryan, Maid, 1,40(33 Mars, ii.54(41 ; iii.l25(28-31 ; iii.303 (24
Mars, the Earl of, iii.217(37; 221(151; 222(159 ; 223(205; 225(239 ; 259(261 ; 228(339,341; 229(349.351,359 Martingsdale, iii.226(291; 228(324,325 Mary Aumbree, i.515- See Notes to vol. i. Mary, Queen, iii.l67(113 Maiy, Queen of Scots, i.292 Mary, Queen of France, and Duchess of Suffolk, ii.318(153
Mass in the morning, ii.580(556, passim Massey, Hugh. i.277(117 Massinger’s ‘ Picture,’ ii.303 Matreways, Johan de, iii.540, note 1 Mattrevis, Lord, iii.244(234 Maud, Queen, i.279(166,189 Maudlin, iii.374(2; 375(14,33; 379(121; 379(125; 380(142,153,166; 381(173, 185
Maudline, iii.374 Maurice, ii.34(23
Maurydden, i.335(391; ? the nobles, grandees, or presidency, command Maximilian, i. 201
Maximus, the Emperor, his conquests attributed to Arthur i.406 Maxwell, Lord, i.219(140; i.222(191; for Lord Home, i.203 Maxwell, Lord, ii.15(209 Maya, iii.306(38
Maya Marryan, iii.l20(7; 121(43 Mayd, the Nutt browne, iii.174 Melampus, iii.306(49 Meliagraunce, Sir, i.166 Melton, Sir John of, iii.246(290 Memering, i.166(2 Menelaus, King, ii.401(22 merchantmen going to London, ii.502(13 503(45
Mercury, ii.53(31; iii.305(29 ; 126(35 Merline, i.417
-------, English Romances of, i. 419-21
Merlin’s personality discussed, i.417-18 Merlin ; how he was begotten and born, i. 440-51; his life till he was 7 years old, i.451-9; he is found by Vortiger’s messengers, and goes to court, i.460-7 ; tells Vortiger about his fall-down castle and the Dragons, i.467-74; is sought for by Pendragon’s messengers, i.!81-7;then by Pendragon himself, i.487-90; advises588
INDEX.
MES
him and Utlier till Pendragon’s death, i. 490-6
Meschieffes (or Meschines), Randulph, 4th Earl of Chester, i.278(1 61; 281(237 Messene in Cieilee, i.283(293 Methasula, iii.70(327 Michaelmas is a well good time, i.36(17 Michall, St., ii.462(1290; 468(1463; 474 (1602
Michall, the archangel, ii.546(551 Middleton, Sir Robert of, iii.247(326 Midsummer Day, ii. 463(1324 Mikle Brittaine, the old name of England, i. 425(82
Milan plate, scullcap of, ii.582(595 Milfield, close by Flodden, i.219(146 Milford-haven, i.212(8; i.323(127; iii.190 (29; 237(50; 351(781 Millaine (knife), i.68(168; 69(180, from Milan
Miller of the Mills of Dee, i.338(166 Millers and mass priests only, left in England to oppose James IV., i.217(109 Million, the King’s daughter of, i.l48(114 Minerva, iii. 305(34
minstrels’rewards, i,151(210; gifts to, ii. 386(1226
Mirth, the benefit of, ii.557(4 Mu thy drates, iii.171 (42 Mutton, Master, iii.l92(58: 65(79 Moberly, Sir Nicholas, iii.245(261 Modred, the Scotch harper, i.246 Molyneux, Sir William, i.230(361 Momus, ii.53(16, 22; iii.306(48 Monmouth, Geoffrey of, i.409; called an impudent liar by Giraldus Cambrensis, i. 402, and William of Newburgh, i.410 Montague, Sir William, iii.459(ll Monteagle, Lord, i.227(296; 231(370 Montgomery, Sir Thomas of, iii.245(274 Mordred, Arthur’s son, i.500(63; 501(77; 503(133; killed by his father, 1.505(187, and wounds him to the death, i.505(192 Mordred, iii.2 78(31
Moresbye, Sir Christopher the, iii.247(314 Morrell, Sir Charles, ii.l4(203 morris-dancers, i.38 Morte Arthur, i.414 Morton, i.294
mother and son, marriage between, ii.340 Mould, i.328(236 Mould Castle, i.275(53 Moulesdale, i.328(236 Mountfort, young, ii.288(223 Mountgomerye, Sir Hugh, ii.13(161; 14 (181;14(202
Mountrealt, i.274(42; 275(49, Montalt Mowbray, Thomas, ii.241(75
NOR
Mowswinge, Sir Bernard, ii.95(427; 104 (703, 706; 105(712; 106(743, 757; 107(772;108(820;110(869 Moyne, Prince, i.423(28; 424(43; is made King, i.424(60; is defeated. i.426(114, and killed, i.429(202; i.472(1621; 477 (1759
Moyses, iii.70(327
Much, the Miller’s Son, ii.207(84; 208(116, &c.; 209(142, &c,
Mulciber, iii.306(45 Mullenax, i.325(166, Molyneux Muikenffeild, Sir George, iii.247(317 Murray, i.294
Murthering of Edward the ffourth his Sonnes, iii.162
Musgrave, Sir William, iii.247(315 Musgrave, the Little, i. 119 Musleboorowe Feild. i. 123 Muttrell, i.339(504, Montreuil in Picardy
Nantwich, i.280(211; iii.248(359; 249 (367
Nappy, a hound, iii.306(50 nappy ale, good and stale, ii. 151(77 Narcissus, iii. 306(41 Nash, D.W., quoted, i.407,417 Navarne, Prince of, ii. 107(778 Naworth Castle, i.294 Nebuchadnezzar, iii 170(27 Nennius, i.402,404,408; his account of Merlin, i.418 Neptune, iii.305(23 Nero, iii. 172(61
Nevill, Charles, Earl of Westmoreland, i.
296; 301(21 to 312(323 Nevill, Lord, ii.193(65 Neville, Sir John, iii.247(329 Nevills, the, ever noble, i.226(284 Newark, i.214(34 Neioarhe, ii.33 Newarke, iii.259(645 Newcastle, came you not from, i.253 Newcastle, ii.204(4,19; 206(70; 208(126; iii.459(4
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, i.318(7 ; iii 407(80 Newport, iii.l93(92 Nilus flood, i.288(450; the river Nile Nilus streams, ii.401(7 Noram, i.222(205, Norham in Northumberland
Norfolk, Duke of, i.292-3; ii.239(9, &c.; 240(44; 241(75, &c.; 242(105; iii. 244(225; iii.253(481; 257(604, 354 (849; 361(1019 Normandy, iii.268(165 Normandy, the King’s daughter of, i.249(25INDEX.
589
NOR
North, the Rising in the, a.d. 1569, i.292 North, Sir Thomas, iii.246(293 North Wales, i.39(14; i.40(28; ii. 194(93 Northumberland, ii.192(48 Northumberland betrayd by Douglas, ii. 217
Northumberland, Earl of, i.293; i.215 (69; ii.7(9; 8(41; 210(9; 214(121; 218 (8,12; iii.244(230 Norton, Francis, ii.213(85, &c.
Norton, Kester, ii.211 (61, &c.
Norton, Master, ii.211(43; 212(51, &c.; 214(109; 216(157
Nortons, the four, i.299, or five, i.301 (17-18; i.306(l57 Norway, i.499(33
Nottingham,i.l6(27; i.24(97; i.40, note2;
ii. 149(15; 153(121; 237(227 Nottingham, Earl of, iii.417(311 Nottingham, Sheriff of, ii.235(185; 236 (213
Nottinghamshire, i.282(272 Now the Springe is come, iii.230 Nutt browne Mayd, the, iii. 174. Fr. brune, f. A browne wench, a lovely nut-browne woman. Brunette, a nut-browne girle. Fille brunette est de nature gaye 8c neite. Prov. A nut-browne girle is neat and blith by nature.—Cotgrave
0 Noble Festus, iii.269
Oath by oak & ash & thorn, i.251(72
‘ Old Buskins for new Brooms,’ ii.402(46
Old Robin of Portingale, i.235
Olyes, Erie, i.370(505
Orgarus, Earle, iii.488(42
Orkney, Isle of, i.219(132
Orleans, Duke of, ii. 172(149
Orson, ii.396(92; 397(108,121
Osbaston, Sir Alexr., i.330(283
ostler, arrays Sir Gryme, i.382(910
Othello: ‘ Bell my Wiffe ’ quoted in, ii.320
Our Lady’s church at Rouen, iii.536(76
Owain Finddu identical with Arthur, i.403
Owen, Sir Christopher, iii.247(319
Oxenford, i. 510(40, Oxford
Oxford, iii.316(1
Oxford, Erie, iii. 192(71; 253(484, 255 (548; 349(730
Padua, iii.375(26 ; 377(71 ; 378(104 ; 380(144-146
Page, Julin, author of The Siege of Rouen, iii.541, note
Painter’s .Palace of Pleasure, ii.303 Palestine, i.284-(324
PHE
Pallyas, or Palyas, Sir Gryme of Garwicke’s brother, i.370(523 ; 371(537, &c.; 373 (605; 374(644; 375(656, &c.; 394 (1288, &c.; 398(1415 Palmerin of England, ii.303 Pan, iii.306(46; 530(15,21 Pandarus, iii.301(5 Pandora, iii.306(37
Papistry put down by Henry VIII., ii.316
(122
Paris, city, ii.l 73(163,180; iii 350(747 Paris work, armour of, i. 359(173 Paris, pride of Troy, ii.401(21 passports carried by travellers, ii. 150(48, 51
Patient Grissell, iii. 421 Patricke, Robert, i. 276(99 Patrinton, Dicke; Queen Katherine’s page, i. 39(24
Pauye, 5 Kings of, i.499(37 payment, ii.565(199; spiced bread? Pearson, C. H., on the historic Arthur, i. 401
Peeres Pavfforall, ii.568(257, Edward I.
Peeres of Lee, iii.214(91
Pegasus, iii.305(25
Pegg,—short for Margrelt,—ii.335(20
Pembroke, Earl of, i.283(306; 287(416;
288(441 (a.d. 1216)
Pendragon, Constantine’s third son, i.423 (30; 429(24; 430(243,254; 475(1722; 476(1751; 479(1836; 480(1850,1869; 487(2077, &c., to his crowning, i.492 (2240; and burial, 496(2371 Pepys quoted, ii.280 Perceforest, ii.303
‘ PerceVal,’ of Chrestien de Troyes, ii.302 Percival, Sir, i.l45(38; ii.423(194; 425 (257; 426(273; 451(1002; iii 278(26 Percy, Bp.: his Life, i. xxvii.; was the son of a grocer, i. Appx. vii.; his polishing of the Child of Ell. i.132; of the Heir of Lin, i. 174. See Forewords Percy, Earl, ii.7(6.17; 8(41; 9(55; 9(74; 10(84,85 91; 11(129; 12(137,148,149, passim; 196(155; 210(13. See Earl Percy
Percy, Lord, ii.218(l6.20; 225(197; 226 (214; iii.354(846; 361(1018 Percy, Sir Henry, iii.245(265 Percy, Sir Win., i.226(273 Perkins’s Table, iii.274(41 Perpoint, Sir Henry, iii 246(292 Persall, Sir Hugh, iii.252(460; 255(557 pestilence of 1349, ii.552 petticoat, a girl’s scarlet, ii.329(43 Pewnes, Monsenoure, iii.540(177 Phebus, i.227(308; 383(931; the sun590
INDEX,
PHE
Phebus, iii.171(51
Phenix, Lord, iii.137(9,13; 138(34, passim
Phero, the son of Sesostris, ii.304 Philip Augustas, i 267; 282(281; returns home, i.284(337 Philip II. of Spain, i.298 Phillis, ii.202(30,40 Phillis, iii. 307(64 Phillis, hoe J ii,1507 Phoebus, iii.307(78 Phylar, Sir, ii. 109(830 Pilkinton, Sir Thomas, iii. 248(334 Pironius, iii. 172(65
Pinkie, or Pinkie Cleugh, the battle of, i. 123(7
Platin, Claude, his prologue to UHistoire de Giglan, ii.414
plovers at Bessie’s wedding feast, ii.285(147
plucked up his heart, ii.460(1250
Pluto, ii;.124(7
Plymouth, iii.454(12
Poetry, the divisions of, ii.522, col. 2
Poictiers, ii.l99(240; 200(255
Pomfret, i.222(209
Pond, ii.24(5
Pontfracte Castle, iii.l64(30 poor palmers fed by Guy’s wife, ii,344(487 Pope Innocent III., i.285(371; 286(382 Pope Joan, ii.402(52 Pope John, ii 146(17 Pore man and the Kinge, iii. 195 Port de Pounte of Rouen, iii.536(75 Port Hillary, iii.525(67; iii.540(178 Porte Denys, iii.538(125 Port Martynvace, of Rouen, iii.539(162 porter, a proud, i.63-40 porters, the King’s, i.591-2 Portingale, Old Robin of, i.235 Portingall, ii.397(126; iii.410(155 possett, a poisoned, ii.266(l0 Pott, Thomas a, iii.l38(25,26, passim ^ Potte, Thomas of, iii J 35 Pount Tornere, ii.466(1403 Pountlarge, iii.534(25 pouthered beeffe, iii.126(50; salted beef Powis lands, i.282(267 Powles, ii.402(31, St. Paul’s Cathedral Powtrel, Johannes, ii.523, col. 1 Poynings, Sir Edward, i. 213(20 Poynton, Warreyn of, i.27 7(137 Prester John, iii.243(197 Pretty Nannie, i.255 pride, ii.324(55 Princes, the fall of, iii. 168 Prinsamoure, Earl, ii.341 (16; 342(40; 348 (201 ; 358(466; 364(614; 373(867; breaks his neck, 388(1264
ROB
Prophecye, A, iii.371 Proserpine, iii. 124(7; 305(18 prostitution, open, in old England, i.443 (660; 445(726
Proud were the Spencers, iii.478 Pulton Abbey, i.265; founded, i.281(231 purveyors, the fear of, ii.552,555 Pyramus, iii.434(75 Pyrrhus, iii.l72(65
Ragecrosse, i.316; Rouge Croix Rainborne, Guy’s son, ii.529(85 Raines (Rennes), shirts of, i.373(610; 37 (779
Randle, Earl of Chester, i.259 Randle II., i 260-3; 278(161 Randle III., i.264-272; 281(251 Raphe, son of Eginion ap David, i.276(92 Ratcliffe, Sir Alex. 1336(425,429,434 Ratcliffe, Sir Richard, iii.247(305 ; 257 (609
Ratcliffe, Sir Thomas, iii.247(308 Ratcliffe, Sir William, iii.247(307 Ratcliffe, the royall, i.331(285 Ravengaard, i. 166(2 Read, Captain, i.295; 302(44 Rebbye, Sir Ralph, ii.l4(195 Red Roger (of Doncaster), i.5 7(81 Red Rose (Edward V.), iii. 189(7 Ree, Isle of, ii.l45(2 Rhenish wine, i.l 88(163 Rice ap Thomas, Sir, i.331(289 ; iii.353 (819; 358(939; 359(955; 361(1015 Richard, Duke of Glouster, iii.l63(5; 16 (41; 165(57
Richard, second Earl of Chester, i.278(149 Richard I., iii. 173(81
Richard II., ii.244(l79; 551-3; his death,
i.	213(32
Richard III., ii.256(29, &c.; 257)80;
ii.	313(21; iii.237(47; 238(74; 321(5; 322(23,25
Richmond, Erie of (Henry VII.), i.214(3 6;
iii.	l66(89,101; 192(65; 192(70,73, 77; 193(81, passim; 241(145; 323(43; 324 (90; 328(187; 348(699; 356(898; 358 (941
Richmond in Yorkshire, i.293 Ridley Hall, Cheshire, 1338(483, note Ridley, Sir Archibald, iii.245(260 rings for a tournament, ii.382(1121 Ringwood, iii.l26(47 Ripon, i.293
Risinge in the Northe, ii.210 Rivers, ii.24(6
Rizzio, Lord David, ii.261(15 Robbye, Sir Ralplie, iii.246(279INDEX,
591
ROB
Robert, Lybius’s squire, ii.408,411 Robin Hood: Introduction to the Ballads, discussing bis personality and character, i.l
Robin Hood, a Beggar, and the Three Squires, i.l3
Robin Hood and the Butcher, i.l9 Robin Hood and the Pindar of Wakefield,
i.	32
Robin Hoode and Queene Katherine, i.37 Robin Hoode his death, i.50 Robine Hood and Fryer Tucke, i.26 Robin Hood and the Beggar, verses quoted from, i.l4, note 1
Robin Hood, ii.228(ll; 229(44; ‘ 231(85 &c.; 232(109, &c.; 233(119, &c.; 234 (139, &c.; 235(175, &c.; iii.l20(5; 121 (44
Rochelle, ii.145(3
Rodger, Sir, ii.88(230; 89(247,257 ;90(272; 90(278; 90(286,289,293; 91(298; 91 (313,322; 92(325, passim Rodingham, i.l 65(9 Roger of Doncaster, Sir, i.50 Romans, ii.91(316. Romance? Norman-French.
Romance; a knight reading books of in a window, i 374(627-8
Rome, i.500(57; ii.l46(22; 366(667,685;
ii.	367(712; iii.170(30; (171(60; 172 (65; iii.272(19; 507(1; 510(92; 511 (110, 113; 534(13
Rome, no cuckolds in, ii.402(5l Rome, the Court of, ii.l99(248 rooks, the blissful noise of, i.383(923 Rome, the great booke of, ii 371(821 Rose of England, the, iii.187 Rose, the (Henry VII.), iii.190(30 Rosebury Castle, iii.459(5 Roses, White and Red, ii 314 Rosse, Sir Richard, iii.246(287 Roswal and Lillian, referred to, i.181 Rotherham, i.229(343 Rouen, the Siege of, iii,532 Round Table, Arthur’s, i.61(7; 84(8; 498 (13; ii.58(13; 475(1643; 479(1769; whence the French Table ronde, Open house-keeping; also a merrie meeting or feasting together of friends and allies. —Cotgrave
Round Table, the Roll of, brought to Glamorganshire in the 12th century, i.407 Rous, John (Rosse, ii.522, col. 1), on Guy of Warwick, ii.5l5 Rowland and Oliver, iii.170(35 Rowlands, Samuel; his * Guy and Amaranth,’ ii. 136, and ‘Guy and Colebrande,’ ii.509, 514
SAT
Rowne, iii.534(28, Rouen Royster, iii.126(47 Royston downes, iii.317(30 Rozamund, Lady, iii. 142(161 Ruisburn, Guy’s son, ii 520 Rumford, ii.281(22; 283(90 russett gowne, ii.569(282 russett, gray, ii.28l(14 Rusticien de Pise, i.411 Ryalas, Sir, i.74 Ryder, Sir Robert, iii.246(297
Sabrine, iii.439(63; 440(70 Sabyn, Dame, ii.515 Saint Andrew’s, Rouen, iii.535(72 St. Andrew’s day, iii.219(90 St. Andrew’s, the Bishop of, 1.141(108 St. Austin’s, ti e Abbot of, iii.152(23 St. Barnard’s Mount, i.499(47 St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, ii. 186(55 St. David’s land, iii.243(209 St. Geruais, abbey of, at Rouen, iii.536(73 St. George, iii.236(5 St. George’s Day, i.41(44, April 23 St. Gyle, sworn by, ii 438(618; 445(807 St. Hillary’s church at Rouen, iii.535(67,69 ; 540(178
St. Jame, ii.562(132; 592(860 See Jame St. John, sworn by, ii.435(536; 558(34; 559(63
St. Jollye, ii.564(170; 581(572 St. Katherine’s, Rouen, iii.536(77 St. Leonard, ii.74(421 St. Martine, ii.70(325 St. Matthew’s, Rouen, iii.536(79 St. Michael’s, Martyrvyle, iii.536(82 St. Patrick’s Church, iii.219(89; 220(125; 221(129
St. Paul’s, Martyrvyle, iii.536(83
St. Swithin’s church at Winchester, ii.
541(632. See Notes to voi. ii.
Sàiadin, the great Souldan, i.283(285; 284(343; iii.l73(82
Saladine, the iEgiptian Souldan, i.289(465 Salamon, i.l48(110; iii.70(333; 127(3; Solomon
Salisbury, i.434(385;	436(445;	480
(1849; iii.258(104; 321(8; 322(40; 336(400
Salisbury, Countess of, iii.460(32: 461(62
Salisbury, Earl of, iii.539(167; 459(10
Samson, iii.170(19
Samuell, iii.70(330
Sandwich, i.500(69
Sanford, Sir Roger, iii.245(275
Sarasins, iii.l71 (58
Sathans, iii.73(395592
INDEX.
SAT-
Sattin, or Syclon, the country of, ii.353)345; 354(357; Edmond, king of, 355(402; 362(582; 382(1118; 387(1242 Savage, Christopher, i.229(347 Savage, Sir Christopher, i.324(144; 326 (181
Savage,. Sir Gilbert, i.212 Sauage, Sir John, i.276(81; iii.252(459; 255(549; 324(77; 330(233; 337(408; 343(569;	344(597; 353(815; 358
(933; 359(953
Sauage, William, iii, 211(11; 213(53; 214(92
Sauyl, Sir Henrie, his Tacitus, ii.524, col. 2 Saxons, i.499(29 scarlet coats, ii.315(70 Scarlett, Will, 1.15(23; i.40(32; ii.229(51 schoolmasters writing in school, ii.503(19, 49
Scotish Feilde, a short alliterative Chronicle in honour of the Stanleys, i.199 Scotland, i.l89(197; 499(32; iii.217(34 219(91
Scott, John, 7th Earl of Chester, i.290 (500, 511
Scottish brand, ii.330(69 Scotts, a fling at the, ii.43 Scroope, iii.431(9; 432(13, 27, passim Scroope and Browne, iii.431 Scroope, Lord, i.226(279; iii.354(855 Seege of Roune, iii.532 Setter of the Lords, iii.264(16 Severn, origin of name of, iii.440(69 Seville, Duke of, ii.109(830 shanks, men with small, can’t charge, ii. 292(55, 62
Sheffield Castle, iii.324(84; 337(419 Shene, James IV.’s body placed there, i.209 shepherd, the next cleverest to David, i.514 (155-66
Sheriff of Nottingham, 5.17(50, &c.; 19(9 —- his wife, i.21(37; 25(113 Sherwood Forest, i.45(140; ii. 148(4; 152 (95; 157(236; iii.l08(160 Shibbrooke, Guarren Vernon of, i 275(70 shoes, knights to win their, ii.77(504; 123 (1232
Shrewsbury, i.323(130: ii.l93(67; iii.191 (56; 192(57; 351)784; 353(831; 354 (833; 354(843
Shrewsbury, Earl of, 1129(10; 215(67; 329(256; 330(274; 336(420; iii.243 (203; 244(228; 253(482; 337(432 Sidney, Sir Philip, ii.522, col. 1 Sidon, 1283(291 Siliye Siluan, the, iii.419 Simon, iii.411(169 Simon, Peter, iii.405(44, 45
STA
Sinadone, the Lady of, ii.442(166; 425 (254; 472(1552; 480(T793; appears as a worme, 493(2134:	turns to a fair
woman, 494(2156; marries Lybius, ii. 497
Sinadowne city, ii.433(489; 462(1302;
described, ii.473(l572 Sir Aldingar, i.165
Sir Bredbeddle, ii.71(340, 361; 73(415; 74(442; 75(451; 77(511. See Green Knight
Sir Degre, i.344. See Degree Sir John Butler, iii;205; 211(3; 212(38, 40; 214(76, 77
Sir Kay, ii.64(154, 160. See Kay Sir Lambewell, i. 142. See Lambewett Sir Lancelott of DulaJce, i.84. See Lancelot Sir Lionell, i.74
Sir Otes de Lile, ii.454(1069 to 462(1312
Sir Rice ap Thomas, iii.191(53
Sir Triamore, ii.78
Sirya, the King of, ii.401 (13
Sislye, iii.l03(21,25; passim ■
Sittinge Late, ii.400 Six can do more than three, ii.230(76 Skinner, Gregory, Lord Mayor of London in 1451, iii.532
Skipton in Craven, i.223(223 Smith, Toulmin, his opinion on John de Reeve, ii.557
smock, shift, of white silk, ii.329(51 smoke in olden houses, ii. 150(40.	See
‘ charcoal fire ’
Smyth, Sir Ralph, iii.245(270 Snoden in Wales, the forrest of, i.338(469 Solomon, iii. 131 (90,93 See Salomon Soinnus, iii.306(43 Songs of Shepardes, iii.303 Sonnes of Edward the fourth, murdering of the, iii. 162 Southampton, ii.167(35 Southwarke, i.325(163 Soyne, iii.539(153, Seine Spain, iii.272(19 Spanish Ladies Love, the, iii.393 Spencer, Hugh, iii.483(l04,110; 484(124;
484(130,134,148 Spencer, Sir Hugh, ii.290(4 Spencer, Sir John, iii.245(257 Spencers, iii.479(l; 482(79 Squier, The, iii.263
Stafford, i.,275(75; iii.249(368,370; 356 (889,895,897
Stafford, Sir Humphrey, iii.246(295
Staffordshire, i.282(272
stale ale good, ii. 151(77
Stanley, iii. 214(91; 321(9; 322(25
Stanley family, poems in honour of, i.l 99index-
593
STA
Stanley, Lord, iii.237(59; 238(81; 239 (97,107; 248(345; 250(405; 250(413, 420; 251(450; 252(465; 253(498; 258(636
Stanley, Sir Edward, i.223(220; 324(151; 328(230,233
Stanley, Sir Edwd., made Lord Mounteagle, 5.334(375; iii.250(422; 324(73; 336( 387; 342(559; 344(609; 353(817 Stanley, Sir Humphrey, iii.252(461 Stanley, James, Bp. of Ely, i.223(213; iii. 324(75
Stanley, Sir John, 5.223(226; 227(294; 325(155; 334(377
Stanley, Sir William, iii.l92(67; 238(67; 248(357 ; 249(366 ; 250(421 ; 252 (469 ; 256(565 ; 324)65 ; 333)309 ; 342(539 ; 344(589 ; 351(777 ; 352 (809 ; 353(821 ; 355(870 ; 356(890 ; 358(951; 363(1072 Stapleton, Sir Bryan of, iii.246(302 Stapleton, Sir William, iii.246(303 statue, wooden, Christiabell likened to, ii.378 (1015
Stephen, King, i.261; 279(165 Steven, Sir, i.ll2(116 Steward, John, ii.504(63; 505(103; 506 (117
Stewart, John, iii.216(6; 217(33,41,43: passim
Stewart, Will cf John, iii.215 Stewart, William, iii.216(6; 220(111; 221( 137; 222(157, 169; passim Stewkley the romanist, i.296 stirrups of silke of ynd, ii.68(273; of wood, ii.559(54; 583(637 Stonp, iii.249(367, 388; 356(890; 337 (911
stone, to pitch the, i.332(316; i.97, note 4, a game
And when knyghtes went to put the stane, Twelve fote over thaym every Ike ane,
He kest it als a balle.-—-Sir Isumbras, p.
113, 1. 606-8 (Thornton Romances)
Stony Stratford, iii.l 63(11 Stopport, Nicholas of, i.27 7(133 Store, a river called, iii.439(49 Strange, Lord, iii.239(98; 240(117; 241 (151; 242(189; 253(499; 254(505; 329(214; 336(383; 342(548; 344(601; 352(806,807; 355(865,882; 359(967 Stratford-the-bow, ii.281(17 Strawberry Castle, iii.l39(54-72 ; 144(206 Strench, Johannes, ii.523, col. 1 Sturley, Sir Robert, iii.24 6(289 Such a Lover am /, iii.542 such more, ii.591(832, such another, another like it
Q Q
TLR
supper, a villan’s, ii.563(137-143 suppers; John de Reeue’s bad and good one3, ii.574-9. See Bondman essay in vol. ii. Surrey, Earl of, Lord-Lieutenant of the North, i.201, 204; 215(59; 225(260; 226(278
Surrey, Earl of, i.318(3; 335(400,406; iii.
244(226; 354(851 Susanna, ii.532(161	♦
Swaley, Sir Robert, iii.246(301 Swallow, ii.25(9 swans for supper, ii.57 6(464 Swanscomb Hill, iii. 153(44 Swethland, i.499(35; Sweden swooning, knights, ii.375(910 sword, title-deeds left in pledge for the loan of a, i.372(586
sworn brethren, i.355(46; 369(489; 388 (1098; ii.516(15 Swynard, James, ii.221(81 Sybil! o the side, ii.204(5; 206(76 Syria, i.283(299 Syria, Sir Terry of, ii. 109(839 Syria, Sowdan of, iii.243(198 syrops at supper, ii.578(507
Table Round, the, i.498(13. See Round Table
Talbott, i.326(195; iii.l94(lll Talbott, Sir Gilbert, iii.255(553; 324(83; 330(234; 337(422, 425 ; 343(569; 351(787; 353(813 Tamburlaine, iii.l72(69 Tamworth, iii.250(411 Tarqine, Lancelot's opponent, i.86(46,
Tarto, ii.145(9
Tasso’s Armida & Rinaldo, ii.408 Te Deum, ii.542(442
Tearne Wadling, i.104 ; 108(33; 'Tarn Wadling .	.	. has been for the last
ten years a wide meadow grazed by hundreds of sheep.’—J. S. Glennie, Arthurian Scotland, in Macmillan’s Mag., December, 1867, p. 167, col. 2.
Teddelyne, dwarf, ii.421(145; 423(196; 424(226; 427(298; 433(484; Teod-line, 434(514 ; 438(607; 447(883 Tegan Eurvron, the wife of Caradog with the strong arm, ii.302 Tempest, Sir Richard, iii.247(322 Tempest, Sir William, iii.247(321 tennis, i.89; 95(140; 96(173 tennis balls sent by the Dauphin to Henry V.
ii. 167(25; ii.161 Termagant, the fiend, ii.467(1409 Terrey of Gorwaine, Sir, ii.527(26 Terouenne, the siege of, i.201
YOL. III.594
INDEX.
TEY
Teynemouth, John of, extract from, iii.544 Teynosa, the Bastard of, iii.540(l79 Thames, iii.403(4; 405(68; 417(284 The Child of Ell, i.132 The Emperour Childe (or Valentine and Orson), ii.390 The Heir of Lin, i. 174 The Kinge enjoyes his rights againe; ii.24 The Marriage of Sir Gawaine, i.103 The Nuttbrowne Mayd, iii.174. See Nutt-browne
The rose of Englande, iii.187 The Turke and Gowin, i.88 Thetis, iii. 306(36 Thisbye, iii.434(76 Thomas a Pott, iii.138(25, 26, passim Thomas Lord Cromwell, i.127 Thomas of Potte. iii. 135 Thribald, Sir Percival, iii. 258(625 Thribald, Sir Robert, iii.246(284 Thyrsis, iii.307(62 Till, the river, i.204-5 Tirrells, James, iii.165(59 Tiuydale, ii.9(53; 205(27 ToOxfforde, iii.315
Tocstaife Parke, i.328(217; Toxteth Park Tom-a-Bedlams, i.241(3 Tom of Bedlam, iii.l24(8 Tournay, i.314; 319(15; taken, i.201-2; 336(417
Towder, Saint, i.231(368; see i.226, note 3 Tower of London, iii.323(64; iii. 338(434; 355(883; fatal to princes and queens, ii. 318(176-182 Townley, i.325(161 Trafford, the trustye, i.331(286 Trent, William a, ii.230(70, 71 Tresilian, ii. 146(39 Triamore, Sir, ii.78
Triamore, Sir, ii.96(458; 102(633; 104( 691, &c.; 105(713, &c.; 106(742, &o.; ' 107(781, &c.; 108(811, &c.; 109(833, &c.; 110(852, &c.; 111(855, &c.; 112( 919, &c.; 115(1005,&c.; 116)1041.&c.; 117(1054, &c.; 118(1078, &c.; 119( 1110, &c.; 120(1141, &c.; 121(1177; 122(1208, &c.; 123(1228, &c.; 124( 1262, &c.; 125(1292, &c.; 126(1322, &c.;127(1351.&c ; 128(1378, &c.; 329( 1405, &c.; 130(1444, &c.; 131(1465, &c.; 132(1495, &c.; 133(1531; 135( 1585.
Tribe of Banbury, the, ii.39 Tristan, the romance of, i.411 Tristram, Sir, i.62(26;. 113(122; iii.l72( 74
Troilus, iii. 301(2 Troy, iii.502(1,6; 534(16
VYA
Troy, Hector, of, iii.l70(33 Troylus of Troy, iii. 172(68 Tuck, Fryer, i.26; 40(33 Tunstall, Sir Robert, iii.252(457 [
Turkoys bowes, ii.458(l 193; Turkish bows Turnay, town of, i.339(501 Turwin, town of, i.339(501; i.318(11; besieged by Henry VIII., i.216(78 Tutbury, i.293 Tuxburye, ii.l93(58 Tweed, ii.9(54 ‘
twenty-nine pence, why King John was worth, i.512)102-6 Tyburn, ii.146(40
Tyler, Wat; his rebellion, ii.553,556 Tyntagill, the castle of, i.498(21 Tyranna, i.283(300 Tyre, i.283(291
Tyrry, Sir, Guy’s sworn brother, ii.516 Tyvidale, ii.205(27
Unicorn, iii.l94(l 12
Upsall, Lord Scrope of, iii.244(246
Urien, i.401
Vrmounde (Ormonde), Erie of, iii.538( 139 Vrsin, ii.398(149, Orson Vther, Constantine’s 2nd son, i.423(30; 429(211; 430(243.254; i.475(1723; 477(1768; 480(1850,1869; 484(1997; 486(2060, &e. 493(2288; to 495(2366; 498(22
Utridge, Sir Robert, iii.246(298
Valentine and Orsin, ii.390 Vaughan, Earle of, ii.l92(49 Vaughan, Sir Thomas, iii.l64(25 Venables, Gilbert, i.277(125 Venables, Peter, 5.277(129 Venice, ii.244(172 venison pasty, ii.l 51 (87 Venus, ii.27(3; 54(46; iii,125(28 Vernon, i.275(60
Vernon, Guarren, of Shibbrooke, i.275(69 villans, condition of, in England in the 15th century, ii.551-6. See Bondman essay in vol. ii.
Vi vers, ii.41(10 Volens, Sir, iii.l72(67 Vortiger, Sir/King Constantine’s steward,]’. 424(48.61; 425(87; 426(135; is made King of England, i.430(236, and rules till he is burnt, i.480(1858 Vulcan iii.125(23-29-32 Vulcan’s head of horn, ii.402(33 Vyardus, daughter of Constantine, Emperor of Rome, ii.368(736INDEX.
595
VYL
Vylett, Sir Arthore’s daughter, ii.442(724
Wace’s Brut, i.410 Wadington, William of, ii.407 Wakefield, the Pindar of, i.32 Wales, ii.332( 130 Wales, North, ii. 194(93 Wallingford, i.289(491; ii 529(86 Walsingham, ii.293(88; iii.471(l; 526(4,5 Walsingham, our Lady at, i.316 Walter of Exeter, ii.510 Warburtan, Rowland, iii.353(830; 354(837 Warburton of Cheshire, i.331(287 Ward, Sir Richard, iii.247(325 Ward, Sir William, iii.245(259 Wardley, Sir Martin of the, iii.246(285 Warreyn, Earl of Surrey, i.277(139 Warrington, iii.211(l
Warwick, ii.201(21; ii.543(471,480; ii.546 (562; 549(624
Warwick Castle, ii.201(6,13. On the Custody of the “ le Guy Warwyke Swerde,” see Ashmole MS. 1115 (247)
Warwick, Earl of, i.293 ; ii.215(149 ; iii.
462(68, 77, 85 Warwick, Guy of, iii.l 71 (44 washing before meals, ii.571(338 Waters, Childe (a beast), ii.271 wedding-feast, ii.285
Weddynge of Syr Gawen and Dame Rag-nell, quotations from, i. 106-112,114-15, 117
Werkoppe, Sir William, i.229(341 Westchester, i.39(l4; i.40(28; 328(225 Westchester Monastery, i.278(146 Westerton town, i.80(20; 81(36 Westhardin, i.328(231, Hawarden? Westminster, ii. 153(122 Westminster hall, ii.l85(30; 187(81 Westmoreland, Earl of, i.293; ii.210(5 ;
214(117; 216(153; iii.244(23l Wethersby, ii.214(113 whale’s bone, white as, iii.20(16 wliat devill is that ffor thee? What the devil is that to you? ii.588(755 wheat, sold by the King’s bondman, ii.563( 144
When first I sawe, ii.48 When Love with unconfined, ii.17 Whifeild, Peter a, ii.204(l White, Christopher, iii.495(4, 23; 496(43, 47; 497(53, 65; 498(83, 92, 95 White Rose and Red, ii.312 Whitehall, ii.25(25 Whitsontyde, playes att, iii. 121(25 Whitworth, Kattye, i.243(8 Wickam, ii.41(26
ZOU
Wilbraham, i.275(74 Wilkslye, i.280(224 Will Stewart tf John, iii.215 William, duke of Normandy, iii.l52(1 William of Malmesbury on Arthur, i.402 William the Conqueror, iii.l51 Willmarley, Sir John, iii.246(300 Willowbye, Lord, i.329(258; 330(278 Winchester, i.279(194;	424(55;	428
(195; 476(1734-52; 477(1772; 501 (79; ii.541(431; 548(616 Winchester, taken by the Dauphin Louis, i.287(407
windows and doors to be barred against fiends, i.446(758
Windsor, ii.581(565; iii.l98(34, 37; 199 (44, 50, 51
Windsor, takbn by the Dauphin Louis, i.287 (408
Windsor Forest, ii.201(l Winglanye, or Winglayne, the Lady, i.354 (9, &c.,	374(647;	396(1339; 397
(1390; has ten children, i.399(1452 “ Winglayne,” Welsh gwynn glain, Gaelic and Irish, fionn glan=^nre milk-white, fair to perfection, thoroughly sincere and true.—Brockie
Wininge of Cales (Cadiz), iii.453 Witherington, ii.l0(94, 99; 14(197 Woller, i.225, note 7
women, the one thing they desire, i.lll (424; 112(104
women: what are they? iii.529 woodcocke, beware thine eye: Proverb, 1. 44 (104, and note 1 woodcocks for supper, ii 576(462 Woosley Bridge, iii.249(391 Worcester, ii.l93(57 Worlde is changed, ii.37 Worrall, ii.454(1074 ‘ Wright’s Chaste Wife,’ ii.303
-y, infinitive, ii,412 Yalle, or Yale, i.281(244 yeomen, English, the state of, in 1547, ii. 180
York and Lancaster, ii.314(45-6 York Castle, ii.215(151 York, the Archbishop of, iii.152(7 York, Duke of, ii.l71(117,121 York, Lord of, ii.l96(161 Younge Andrew, ii.327 Younge Cloudeslee, iii.l02
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