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Full text of "Bishop Percy's folio manuscript. Ballads and romances"

'LIBRARY 

UNIVBRWTY OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN DIEGO 









Vi 



7 






M*l>op Percys folio M&. 



Balla&s anD Romances* 



foi. Him. 



LONDON : PRINTED BY 

SPOTTISWOODB AND CO., NKW-STREET SQUARE 

AND PARLIAMENT STREET 




aStstfjop Pcrrg's 



/ 



JFolto M&nu8txipt 



BallaDS anD Romances. 



EDITED BY 

JOHN W. HALES, M.A. 

FELLOW AND LATE ASSISTANT-TUTOR OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE 

AND 

FREDERICK J. FURNIVALL, M.A. 

OF TRINITY HALL, CAMBRIDGE. 
(ASSISTED BY PROF. CHILD, OF HARVARD Univ., U.S.; W. CHAPPELL, Esq., &c. &c.) 



>7ol. $$*. 



LONDON : 
N. TRUBNER & CO., GO PATERNOSTER ROW. 

1868. 



PREFACE 

TO 

THE THIRD VOLUME. 



Of this third volume the Historical Ballads are the principal 
feature. Though the Robiu Hood set are continued by Adam 
Bell, and Young e Cloudeslee, the Arthur set by The Carle off 
Carlile, 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 Conquerour, The Drowning of 
Henery the I his Children, Edward the Third, the Seege of 
Roune (1418-19), Proud where the Spencers, the Murthering 
of Edward the Fourth his Sonnes, The Rose of Englande, Sir 
John Butler, Bosivorth Feilde, Ladye Bessiye, 'Sir Andrew 
Bartton (1511), the Wininge of Cales (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), Baloive (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, the 



vi TREFACE TO THE THIltD VOLUME. 

Rev. Walter W. Skeat, has been good enough both to ' 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 Sir John Butler (which is by Dr. Robson), jEneas &. 
Dido (by Mr. W. Chappell), and the following by Mr. Furnivall : 
In olde Times paste, Thomas of Potte, The Pore Man & the 
Kinge, Noiv the Springe is come, Carle off Carlile, A Cauilere, 
Sir Andrew Bartton, Kinge Humber, Seege off Roune. 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. G. E. Adams (Rouge Dragon), Doctors Robson and 
Rinibault, and to Mr. Alfred Tennyson for a letter on the origin 
of the legend of Godiva. 

February 29, 1868. 



Vll 



CONTENTS 



OF 



THE THIRD VOLUME. 



AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY, BY THE REV. W. W. SKEA1 

XO^ES 

SIR CAWLINE 

SIR DEGREE 

DEATH AND LIFFE 



ADAM BELL, CLEME OF THE 



CLOUGH, AND WILLIAM OF 



CLOCDESLEE 



YOIW'GE CLOUDESLEE . 

IN OLD TIMES PASTE 

DARKESOME CELL 

MARKE MORE FOOLE . 

THOMAS OF POTTE 

WILLIAM THE CONQUEROUR 

THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I HIS CHILDREN 

MIKTHERING OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES 

THE FALL OF PRINCES 

THE NUTT-BROWNE MAYD . 

THE ROSE OF ENGLANDE . 

THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE 

SIR JOHN BUTLER 

WILL STEWAR1 AND JOHN . 

NOW THE SPRINGE IS COME 

HOSwrilUH FEJLDE 



PAGE 

xi 
xli 
1 
16 
49 
76 
102 
119 
123 
127 
135 
151 
156 
162 
168 
174 
187 
195 
205 
215 
230 
233 



Vlll 



CONTENTS OF THE THIRD VOLUME. 



TINEAS AND DIDO 
THE SQDIER 
O NOBLE FESTUS 
CARLE OFF CARLILE 
HERO AND LEANDER 
CRESSUS . 

SONGS OF SHEPARDES 
THE LAUINIAN SHORE 
COME MY DAINTY DOXEYS 
TO OXFFORDE .. 
LADTE BESSIYE . 
ARE WOMEN FAIRE ? . 
A CAUILERE 
A rROP[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 DAYES OF OLDE 
AMINTAS . 

WININGE OF CALES . 
EDWARD THE THIRD 
AS YEE CAME FROM THE HOLYE 
LEOFFRICUS (OR GODIVA) 
PROUDE WHERE THE SPENCERS 
KINGE EDGAR . 
CHRISTOPHER WHITE . 
QUEBNB DIDO . 
\uih\SO AND (iANSELO 



LAND 



PAGE 

260 

263 

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 

507 



CONTENTS OF THE THIRD VOLUME. 



IX 



BALOWE . 

GENTLE HEARD SMAN 

I AM 

CORIDON . 

SEEGE OFF ROUNE 

SUCH A LOVER AM I 

APPENDED . 

GLOSSARY TO THE THREE VOLUMES 

INDEX TO THE THREE VOLUMES 



PAGE 

515 

524 
529 
530 
532 
542 
544 
547 
573 



XI 



AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. 

By the Rev. 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 peculi- 
arities 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 loud might be employed with great 
advantage. Dr. Guest 1 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. Rhythms, 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 anapaest. 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 miscon- 
ception 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 Fornyr'Salag. 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. Xlll 

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 Csedmon 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 tivo 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 tivo 
rime-letters, it is because one of the sab-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 andLiffe" and " Scotitsh answer i" the short line* of Beowulf, 
ffeilde," the sections of each long line # 



XIV 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) swi<5e gesSelige ; very happy ; 

synna ne ciibon ; sins they knew not. 

{Ccedmon, ed. Thorpe, p. 2. 1. 12.) 

(2) hkm & foah-setl home and a high seat 
Aeofena rices. of heaven's kingdom. 

(C&dmon, p. 3, 1. 9.) 

(3) e<5el-sta8olas the native settlements 
eft gesette. might again establish. 

(C&dmon, p. 6, 1. 25.) 

In example (1), the rules are all fulfilled : the initial letters 
of sivifte 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 impor- 
tant 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. SThis complement, 
which I shall call the catch, answers to the Icelandic malfylling. 
The use of it is a very necessary license, and lines in which it 
occurs are more common than those without it. No special 



AN 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 : 

dome & dugefce of sway and dignity 

&) rfreame benam. and joy deprived them. 

(Ccedmon, p. 4, 1. 19.) 

geond-)/blen/yro filled throughout with fire 

&)/aer-cyle. and cold intense. 

(Ccedmon, p. 3, 1. 29.) 

ge-^remed ^rymme provoked bitterly, 

<?rap on wrafce. he gripped in wrath. 

(Ccedmon, p. 4, 1. 29.) 

Here cfe, geond, <&, 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) ^reyere and to ^enaunce 

^litten heom monye ; 

Bote in a) ilfayes morwnyngo 

on) il/aluerne hulles, 
Me bi-i/el a/erly, 

A) /eyrie me thouhte ; 
I) sftimberde 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 arc made to begin words also, such words being 
chosen as commence with loud syllables, as in — 

wereda wuldor-eining 

wordum herigen ; (Ccedmon, 1. 3.) 

Worchinge and wondringo 

as the) world asketh; (Piers PL A. prol. 19.) 

This is undoubtedly the best arrangement, but it cannot always 
be followed ; when it is not, care should be taken that the 



XVI AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. 

initial syllable of the word is as soft and rapid as possible, as in 
gescdige and bifalle in the lines 

swi8e gesaelige 

synna ne cii}>on ; (Ccedm. ed. Thorpe, p. 2. 1. 12.) 

Mony) ferlyes han bifalle 

in a) fewe 3eres. (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 : 

Ayhtlic Aeofen-timber ; the joyous heavenly-frame ; 

Aolmas chelde — the waters parted (he). 

(Ccedmon, p. 9, 1. 23.) 

/Begre/VeoJjo-beawas, fair kindly thews, 

/red eallum leof — the Lord dear to all. 

(Ccedmon, p. 5, 1. 29.) 

Now is) ilfeede \>o il/ayden i-nomen, • 

and no) mo of hem alle. (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 \>e ^entel 

Wnd hit in his Aook 
what )>is) il/ountein be-;«ench 

and \>\s) rZerke dklo. 
(Piers Plowman, A. i. 1.09, 1 ; see also iii. 93, vii. 57, 69.) 



AN ESSAY" ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. xvii 

t 

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 k\m 

and to) alle cristene; (P. PL 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 arrange- 
ment. 

An example is furnished by the line — 

tyle he had syluer 

for his) sawes and his selynge. (P. PL 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 \>er-wi\> 

treiithe in my lyue. (P. PL A. vii. 94.) 

And) beere heor brks on \>i Mc 

to Caleys to sulle. (P. PL A. iii. 189.) 

(d) Eime-letters sometimes begin soft syllables, even when 
the soft syllable occurs in the initial catch. An obvious instance 
is afforded by the line — 

In G7a-)morgan with gibe 
thare) ^//adchipe 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) nidob as Ich ev scide 

in) profitable werkes. (P. PL A. i. 120.) 

ber to) wonen with M»rong 

cvhil) god is in heuene. (P. PL A. ii. 74.) 

vol. in. a 



XV111 AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. 

yit I) ^>reye J?e, quod j>hv$, 
p&v) eharite, 31!* bou conne. (P. PI. A. vii. 240.) 

God) jiuej> Aim his blessyng 
)>at Ais) lyflode so swynkeb. (P. P/. A. vii. 239.) 

where it should be 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 oc- 
curring to me after a very slight search. One instance may 
suffice ; the rest are quite as decisive : 

&),/airest of alle/ason 
/or) eny riche holde. (Werwolf, 2836.) 

(/) Occasionally no alliteration is apparent at all. I fail to 
discover any in the line, 

whi tat) reniaunce fel 

on) Saul and his children. (P. PL A. iii. 245.) 

3^et this line is undoubtedly genuine, as appears by a collation 
of MSS. See also Werwolf, 1. 5035. 

In fact, a continual and oft-repeated perusal of thousands of 
alliterative verses has convinced me that our old poets con- 
sidered 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 admis- 
sible 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 

/erne his /awe | at is so lelo, 

&) s#e teche it furfrer, (P. PL ii. 31,) 

and, only three lines below, come upon 

when) ke6 was me fro 
I) lokod and byA&de, 

it is not surprising to find that these lines rest on the authority 



AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE TOETRY. 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 Crede, 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 

whon) softo was the sonne. (P. PL A. prol. 1.) 

That I) was in a wildernesse 

artiste 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) r/eop r/ich and devk 

and) r/mlful of siht. (P. PL A. prol. 16.) 

■Faire/loiiros/or to/6ccho 

that he hi)-/6re him seyc. (Will, and Werwolf, 1. 26.) 

<S%athylle &6ttlande by skylle 

he) sZystys [read skyftys] as hym lykys. (Mortc Arthure, 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 an 

a 2 



XX AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. 

Anglo-Saxon couplet is a mark of antiquity. I 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 Ploiv- 
man, where the lines 

Wende I) wydene in this world 

wondres to here — 
Vndur a) brod banke 

bi a) Bourne syde — 
I sauh a) Tour on a Toft 

tritely I-maket — 

have been improved (?) by altering the words here, syde, and 
I-maket, into ivayte, brymme, and ytymbred respectively. 2 

With regard to the complement or catch, Kask 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 struc- 
ture 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 allitera- 
tion, the structure of the verse, and even the sense, be thereby 
destroyed." This statement Br. Guest 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 " one or more words," it is rarely of more than two 

1 Such, I find, is also Dr. Guost's s Rask's Anglo-Sa.ron Grammar, trans- 
opinion ; Guest's Hist. Eng. Rhythms, lated by Thorpe, 1830, p. 136. 

vol. i.p. 141. * Guest, Hist. Eng. lihythms, vol. ii. 

2 See Piers Plowman, Text A, ed. p. C. 
Skeat, p. xxii. 



AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. Xxi 

syllables. The catch, as Dr. Guest points out, is not absolutely 
toneless ; yet it is clear that the accented 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 e6nstellations burning, mellow moons and happy skies, 

into — 

Constellations burning larger, mellow moons and happy skie-s, 

we give a very different effect to the words larger and constel- 
lations ; whilst in both cases the accent on mellow is com- 
paratively 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 atten- 
tion 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 EdivarcVs 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. 13 7-145. l 

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 Csedmon, but they 
occur in words close together, and in the same short line, as in 
the lines "gleam and dream,'' "wide and side,''' &c. ; they 
are found also in other poems, as "frodne and godne " in the 
" Traveller's Song," " loenne and samne " in " Alfred's Metres, 
&c. : see Guest, vol. i. p. 126, &c. There are also half -rimes, 
as in " sar and sorge," "his boda freoeZan," &c. The most 
curious example is in the Eiming Poem in the Exeter MS., 

1 Compare — Nein ! Seufzen nor und Stiihncn unci 
rvcfj\bs rd t' wto. t6v re vovv rd r v/x^aT' schcucr Sklavensehritt. 

el (Sophocles, (Ed. Col. 37].) (Uhland, Des Scmqcrs Find.) 

Ncu patri;e validas in viscera vertite But minds of mortall men are muchell 

Tires. (Virgil, Mn. vi. 833.) niard 

II pietoso pastor pianse al suo pianto. And niov'd amissc with massy mucks 

(Tasso, G. L. vii. 16.) unmeet regard. 

. . . . aie Saite noch Gesang, (Spencer, /•'. 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 

flail mah fliteb, 
flan mon hwiteS, 

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 fn£est 

ne) fyres bl££st, 
ne) h^egles 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 t, a Dominant 
by d, and a catch by a line ( — ), it is easy to represent the 
scansion of Csedmon, to the extent of any number of lines, by 
putting a comma at the end of a line, and the mark | at the 
end of a couplet. The poem begins thus : 

Us is) rilit micel Tor us it is very right 

baet we) rodera wi'ard That we the heaven's Warden, 

wereda wuldor-cining The Glory- King of hosts, 

wordum herigen, With (our) words should praise, 

mddum lufien; With (our) minds should love; 

he is) mdegna spt'd, He is of powers the Speed, 

heafod ealra The Head of all 

heah-gesceafta.' High-created (ones). 

1 The accents merely mark stress ; I system of accents which regulates (ho 
am obliged hero to ignore the usual length of the vowels. 



Xxiv AN E;?SAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. 

The scansion is as follows : 

— T t, — d T | d t t, t d | t d, — t T | 1 1, 1 1 | . 

I have no space here to discuss CEedmon'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 Cajdmon'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 con- 
venience 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 ponns. But it should be 
poems, the idea probably being taken noted that when such a poem as Piers 



AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. XXV 

printed in long lines, and I believe this to be the least con- 
fusing ; for nearly all those who have adopted short lines have 
forgotten to set back the second line of the couplet (as should 
always be done), and then the eye of the reader cannot detect 
how the lines pal)- 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 very 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 com- 
mencing 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 from 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 boon 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 (pies- 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, 



and — 



That) Ponl precheth of hem ' 
I dar not) pr6ouen Were (1. 38) ; 

That heore) Pariseh hath ben pore 
seththe the) Pestilence tyme (1. 81). 



The 



In 1. 104, the catch seems to contain the chief-letter. 

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 him is here emphatic ; see the 
context. 

2 Modern poets learn this rule by the 
ear. Thus, in Lord Lyron's lines — 
Know ye the laud 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 Arc as, and Where tin' 
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 mail to- 
wards the conclusion, contains some 
good hints. 



AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. XXV'll 

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 vol. i. of Sir F. Maddeu's edition, in the 

second column : 

Ho was) wis and war 

he) welde thes riche 
al) hit hine louede 

that) liucde on londe, 

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 heir 
he welde that riche hcer ; 

where the word hcer (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 JEthelred, 
and is entered in the Chronicle under the date 1036. 1 One 
couplet is clearly rime — 

siime hi man bende 
siime hi man blende ; 

whilst another is a fair alliterative specimen, 

that hi hlission 
blithe mid Criste. 

Most of the lines are still less regular, but this poem ex- 
hibits, 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 Grcin, Angehachsische Bibl/'othek, vol. 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 
" 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 
ivestem dialects. The example which seems to contain most 
southern forms is the " Ploughmans Crede," which must, how- 
ever, 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 
SirF. 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 Reliquice Antiquce, vol. i. 
p. 208.) 

2. Seinte Marherete, about a.d. 1200. See MSS. Keg. 17. 
A. xxvii., and Bodl. 34. This poem, as edited by Mr. Cockayne, 
was reissued by the E. E. T. S. (Early English Text Society) in 
1866. The metre is tolerablv regular. 

3. William of Palerne, translated from the French by one 
William, at the request of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Here- 
ford, 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 Roxburghe 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 Palerne. (Sir F. Madden conjectures it to have been written 



AX ESSAY OX ALLITERATIVE POETRY. XXIX 

by the author of No. 3. A comparison of the language of the 
poems, latety made by myself, confirms this supposition.) 

5. The Vision of William concerning Piers the Plowman, 
together with Vita de Bowel, Dobet, and Dobest, by William 
Langland, said to be a native of Cleobury Mortimer in Shrop- 
shire. 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. 12 mo). 
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 Crede, 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 Ploivman's Tale, which is inserted in some 
editions of Chaucer. 

7. The Deposition 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 TOETRT. 

8. Two poems, one on Cleanness, and a second on Patience, 
(MS. Cotton, Nero, A. x.), printed by K. 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 
Jeives. 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 Arthure; about a.d. 1440. MS. in the Thornton 
volume at Lincoln, printed by Halliwell (1848, 8vo), and re- 
printed by Eev. G. G. 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 Steven- 
son 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 Glasgow, 
numbered S. 4. 14. I have observed a line in it (1. 1248) 
which almost entirely coincides with 1. 4212 in the Morte 
Arthure, and other indications show some connection between 
the two. Either they are by the same author, or one is imi- 
tated from the other. The Morte Arthure seems superior to 
the Troy poem, which makes the former supposition doubtful ; 
but this point will no doubt be settled when the edition of the 



AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE TOETRY. 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 diciest ; 

of which 27 lines are quoted by Bishop Percy (Rcl. 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. 

14. Chevelerc Assigns, or the Knight of the Swan ; temp. 
Henry VI. ; eel. Utterson (Koxburghe 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): swycle, leyde (158, 159); faste, 
caste (166, 167); siuanes, cheynes (198, 199, and again at 350, 
351); were, mysfare (237, 238); myskarrye,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 honde 

&) welled e so faste, 
That I) toke the other fyue, 

&) fro the fyer caste. 

It is a faulty specimen of verse, upon the whole ; the alliter- 
ation 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 thejuelle, & .Ihesn thankos. 

It is printed in the Appendix to Lancelot da Lac, ed. Steven- 
son (Mai t land Club), 1839. 



XXX11 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 Laik in Lowland Scotch. 

16. The Tua Mary it Women and the Wedo ; by William 
Dnnbar, 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. Ixxii. ; 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 GLeam 

so) GLaddened their heartis, 
they) made a GLorious GLee 

among the) GReen boiighis. 

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 Scottisli 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)-16ne as I lay : — 
Striueling thai st ra it place 

a) strength of that lande: — 



{ o 



AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETKY. XXX1U 

Then a) chiftaine vnchosen 

shal) choose for himselfe, 
And) ride through the Kealme 

and) Boy shal be called. (See pp. 26, 31, 35.) 

20. I may add that the "Keply 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 Reliqukv Antiquce, 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 Edward's 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 Knijjb, about a.d. 1530, 
ed. Sir F. Madden, 1839; re-ed. Morris (Early English Text 
Society), 1864. 

3. Golagros and Gaivayne ; and 

4. Awntyrs of Arthure ; in the same vol. as Sir. F. Madden's 
Gaivayne. 

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 the speci- 

of rime to alliteration makes tho poet's mens are rather short. A like objection 

work a dance in fetters. The difficulty does not apply to Icelandic poetry. 

VOL. III. I) 



XXxiv 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 Coilzear ; see the same work. 

7. " Saint John the Evangelist," printed in Religious Piece*, 
ed. Perry (Early English Text Society), 1867. 

8. The Bake of the Howlat, by Sir K. de Holande, about A. J>. 
1455. Printed by Pinkerton, 1792; and for the Bannatyne 
Club, 1823. 

9. The prologue to book viii. of Gawain Douglas's trans- 
lation of the JEneid. 

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 Guest'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. Ex- 
amples 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 Ice- 
landic, 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 the 



AN 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 sometiynes form no part of the verse what- 
ever, 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, 

luite woldc I recche." (Piers Plowman, A. iv. 51.) 

b 2 



XXXvi AN ESSAY ON ALLITEUATIVE 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 higinne. (Piers PL A. vii. lo3.) 

& sayd — 

0) loiielye liffe, 

cease thou such wordes: (Death § Liffe, 258.) 

The usefulness of the rule consists in this : that the examples 
of it are rather numerous, especially in Piers Ploivman. 

Alliterative verse is well deserving of careful study and at- 
tention. Although not altogether confined to " Gothic poetry" 
— for it has been "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 con- 
ceded to it, but it has not often been credited with other 
merits which it possesses in quite an equal degree, when em- 
ployed 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 so- 2 Bosworth 's Anglo-Saxon Dictionary, 

lies, p. . r ;;')i). pp. cxxiv, cxxvi. 



AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETKT. XXXV11 

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 tbe 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 suc- 
cession of dominants would introduce a remarkable rapidity, 
very different from the measured cadence, which is due to on 
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 written 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- 



XXXvill AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETKT. 

nerate." l It contains several perfect lines, alliteration and all, 
such as, 

Welthe oi' wandreth, whethire so betyde, 

Mr. Perry has remarked that he does not see his way to 
bringfino; the whole of the sermon into this form. But I am 
clear that I see mine, and I coidd 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 : 



s> 



1 Religious Pieces, ed. Perry, p. vi. of Preface. 



AN ESSAY ON ALLITEUATIVE TOETRY. XXXIX 

Guest, History of English Rhythms, vol. i. p. 142, &c. 

Eask, 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 Plowman. 

Professor Morley, English Writers, i. 264. 

Yercj, 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. Perry's edition of Morte Arihure, and in my edition 
of Piers Plowman, 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. Eichard Morris (Bell and Daldy, 
1865). On the more general subject of English metre, see Guest'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 Me- 
chanism of Verse, 2nd ed. 1804. 

1 The reader must be warned against in the alliterative metre." This is 

three extraordinary misstatements in indeed a curious craze, for the allitera- 

this essay, following close upon one tive metre is founded on Dominants, 

another near the end of it. These are the Alexandrine on Returns. Percy 

(1) that Kobert of Gloucester wrote in gives some examples, and the metre 

anapaestic verse, whereas he wrote in which he selects for murdering is the 

the long Alexandrine verse, containing Fnnch one, as the reader may easily 

(when perfect) six Returns; (2) that the judge for himself, M'hen he finds that 

French alone have retained this old the line 

Gothic metre [the twelve-syllabled Le sOcces fat tofijoflrs | On enfant dC 1'aSdace 

Alexandrine] for their serious poems, . 

whereas we may be sure that Michael is marked by him as it is marked here. 

Drayton, the author of the Polyolbion, and is supposed to consist of four 

meant his poem seriously; and (3) Anap^sts! Yet one more blunder to 

that the cadence of Piers Plowman be laid at the door ot the " Anapaests ! 

"so exactly resembles tho French Would that we were well rid of tlum, 

Alexandrine, that I believe no peculiar- and that tho " longs " and " shorts were 

ities of their versification can be pro- buried beside them ! 
duccd which cannot be exactly matched 



xli 



NOTES. 



p. xxviii., Allit. Essay, Chaucer's lines are : 

But trusteth wel, I am a suthern man, 

I can not geste, rim, raw., ruf, by letter. 

v. iii. p. 202, 1. 42-3, ed. Morris, 
p. 16, 1. 1, 2. Sir Degree. The Affleck MS. of this Bomance 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 

Knijt 

Ferli fele wolde fonde 

And sechen aventouris, bi ni3te and dai, 

How jhe mi3te here strengthe asai ; 

So did a Kny3t Sire Degarree, 

Ich wille 3011 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 
Abbot sford Club Sir Degarre (as he gives notice) from a black-letter 
edition (Copland's). 

The Bomance 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 
Seidell'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 loaves 
(Dibdin's Typographical Antiquities, vol. iv. p. 338)." Further, Mr. Laing 
mentions that "the late learned Archdeacon Todd, in his ' Illustrations of 
Gowrr and Chaucer,' 1 has described a fragment on two leaves containing 
160 lines of this Bomance, as forming part of a Manuscript supposed to be 
of the Fourteenth Century, now tho property of the Earl of Ellesmere ; but 
the volume, at present, is unfortunately not accessible." 

Mr. Laing also states that tho 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 Tage 107, Lend. 1810, 8vo and 4to. 



xlii NOTES. 

and that Uttorson reprinted Copland's edition (probably about 1545) 
■which is in the Garrick 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, aud that my note is right. — F. 
p. 135, Thomas of Potte. Ritsotf printed another version in his Ancient Songs, 
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. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke, 
and reprinted by Ritson 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 Rosamond of Scotland. This may be sung to the tune of 
Floras Farewel." Ritson printed a different version of the tale in his 
Ancient Songs, 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 plesaunce 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 putto 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 
lecheryc of theyr bodyos. For they knowe wel that, after the lawo of theyr 
maryage, they may not haue for theyr lordes, ne to be theyr husbondes, men 
of the chircho ne other of no valewe. This loue is not for to recouere ony 
worship, but alio dishonour and shame." — F. 
p. 151. Thorne (Twysden's X Scriptores, c. 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 

I. 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. liiley, 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 boJy 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 Glanville'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 
Coote on A Neglected Fact in English History, p. 57, and the authorities he 
cites. 

II. Fitz-Stephen says ( Vita S. Thorns, p. 230), that by the custom of 
Kent, a man condemned for contempt of court pays a customary fine of 40j>\ 
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 L, 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 Cantite 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 Felony, 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 mau's lands are shared between all his sons, the messuage going to the 
youngot. 

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. t he 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 £ her husband's land for dower while she is chaste, and 
the widower A his wife's. 

&c. &c. — F. 

p. 174. The Nuttbrownc Maid. " 1558-9. John Kynge ys fyned for that he did 



xliv KOTES. 

prynt the nutbrowne mayde w'out lycense, ij* vj d ." Collier's Registers, i. 16. 
See the note there. 
p. 177, 1. 1, notes, for i tshalle read it skedle. 

p. 301, Crcssus. See the " curious ballad " on " Troylus & Cressyd," from MS. Ash- 
mole, 48, fol. 120, in The Marriage of Wit $ 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. E. Bell, 1856, p. 217.— F. 
p. 402. 1. 17. See Henry's answer, August 12, 5th year of his reign, in Harl. 

MS. 787, leaf 58.— F. 
p. 466, last line, p. 470, 1. 10. See the "Articles of Enquiry for the Monastery 

of Walsingham," in Harl. MS. 791, leaf 27.— F. 
p. 473. There are several charters or grants by Godiva and Leofricus in Kemble's 

Codex Diplomaticus. — F. 
p. 499, QuceneDido. 1564-5. A ballett intituled the Wanderynge prynce. [No doubt 
the ballad printed by Percy (Keliques, 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 Songs, ii. 141, edit. 
1 829.] Collier's Extracts.— F. 
p. 541, The Egerton MS. gives the name of the writer (and not the copier, 
seemingly), of the Sege of Bone, thus : 
Thys processe made Johffn 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 \> e sege of Bone. — F. 

1 Raff= refuse, a confused heap, a jumble. Here it means in lines jumbled together: see 
Raffle in Wedgwood. Byrne would mean regular verses with properly rimed endings.— Skeat. 



Bishop i&erc^s jfolto 0i%>. 

35alXati5> anfi 3iio matters. 



dX«c 



^r Cafolfne: 1 

" This old romantic tale," says Percy, in his Introduction to the 
Sir Cauline of the Reliques. "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. It 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 fur its being so cor- 
<!< tcftive & obscure. N.J5. This socines rupted.— I', 
to have been originally a Scotch Song: 

VOL. III. D 



2 SIR 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 
kinsmanship. 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 lifto up his eyes 

When he heard his ladye crye, 
ladye, I am thine enrae true love, 

For thee I wisht to dye. 

Thon giving her one partinge looke, 

He closed his eyes in death e, 
Ere Christabelle, that ladye milde, 

Begane to drawe her breathe. 

But when she found her comelye knightc 

Indeed was dead and gone, 
Shoe layde her pale cold cheeke to his, 

And thus she made her moane. 

staye, my deare and onlye lord, 

For mee thy faithfullo feero ; 
Tis nint (hat I shold followe thee, 

Who hast bought my lovo soe deare. 



SIR CAWLINE. 3 

Then fayntinge in a dcadlye swoune, 

And with a deepe-fette sigho, 
That bursto her gentle hearte in twayne, 

Fayre 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 traffic and so senti- 
mental 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. 



lESUS : lord mickle of might, 1 
that dyed ffor vs on the roode 
to maintaine vs in all our right, 
4 that loues 2 true English blood. 

ffor by 3 a K.night I say my song, r]1 sing you 

was bold & ffull hardye ; 
Sir Robert Briuse wold fforth to ffiaht 
8 in-to Ireland ouer the sea ; 

& in that land dwells a kino: T . , 

o sin Irish 

which ouer all does beare the bell, knight, 

& with him there dwelled a curteous Knight, 
12 men call him S/r Cawline. SirCawline, 

1 For the first four stanfcas Percy has The fcinge had a ladye to his daughter, 

in the Beliquea these two : In fashyon she hath no peere; 

The First Part. Al11 ' princely wightes thai Ladye wooed 

In Ireland, ferr over the sea, To be tho 3' r wedded feerc.— F. 

There dwelleth a bonnye kinge ; • love. — P. 

And with him a yong and comlye knighte, 3 of.— P. 

Men call him syr Cauline. 



SIR CAWLINE. 



who loved a 
king's lovely 
daughter, 



16 



And lie hath a Ladye to his daughter, 
of ffashyon shee hath noe peere ; 

K.mgMa & lordes they woed her both, 
trusted to haue beene her peere. 1 



[page 3G9] 



but durst not 
disclose his 
love, 



Sir Cawline loues her best of one, 2 

but nothing durst hee say 
to discreeue 3 his councell to noe man, 
20 but deerlye loued this niayd. 4 



and had at 
last to take 
to his bed, 



till itt beffell vpon a day, 5 

great dill 6 to him was dight ; 
the maydens loue remoued his mind, 
24 to care bed went the Knight ; 



and declares 
he should 
die. 



28 



& one while he spread his armes him ffroe, 

7 & cryed soe pittyouslye 
" ffor the maydens loue that I haue most minde, 

this day may comfort mee, 
or else ere noone 8 I shalbe dead ! 9 " 

thus can Sir Cawline say. 



Just bed ire 
dinner, 
the King 
asks for him, 



when our parish masse that itt 10 was done, 
32 & our u king was bowne to dine, 
he sayes, " where is Sir Cawline 

that was wont to serue me with ale & wine ? 12 " 



1 perhaps fere. — P. peere is equal, 
mate, match. — F. 

2 All, or any. — P. loveth her host of 
all.— Bel. 

3 discreeve, discribe, discover. Chauc. 
forte, diskevere. — P. He discreeve. — 

Bel. 

4 he lovde this may. — Bel. 

5 on a daye it so beffell. — Bel. 

grief. A.-S. deol, deceit, trouble ? — F. 
7 For the next five lines Z?< /. lias three : 



One while he sprcd them nj T o : 
Ami aye ! but I winne that ladyes love, 
For dole now I imm dye. 

8 Only half the second n in the MS. 
— F. 

9 This was the usual resource of love- 
sick knights. Compare Sir Generides, 
p. 1237, and Will Stewart below. — F. 

10 And whan our parish-masso. — Bel. 

" Our.- Bel. 

'- That is wont to serve I he wyne. — Bel. 



SIR CAWLINE. 



but then answered a curteous Knight 
36 ffast wringinge his hands, 1 

" Sir Cawlines sicke, & like to be dead 
without and a good leedginge. 2 " 



and is told 
that he's 
very ill. 



" ffeitch yee 3 downe my daughter deere, 

40 shee is a Leeche ffull nine 4 ; 

I, and take you doe 5 & the baken bread, 

and eene 6 on 7 the wine soe red, 8 

& looke no day[n]tinesse ffor him to deare, 

44 for ffull loth I wold him teene. 9 " 



The King 
sends his 
daughter to 
cure Sir 
Cawline. 



48 



this Ladye is gone to his chamber, 10 

her maydens ffollowing Nye, 
" well," shee sayth, "how doth my Lord ? " 



" sicke ! " againe saith hee. 11 



She goes to 
him, 



asks how 
he is, 



" I, but rise vp wightlye, man, for shame ! 

neuer lye soe cowardlye here 12 ! 
itt 13 is told in my ffathers hall, 
52 ffor my loue you will dye. 14 " 



and tells him 
not to lie 
there like a 
coward. 



" itt is ffor yowr Loue, ffayre Ladye, 15 

that all this dill I drye. 
ffor if you wold comfort me w/th a Kisse, 16 



He says he's 
in love wit 
her; 

if she'll kiss 



1 fas! Ins bands wringing. — P. 

2 I : to Leche i.s to heal, tun'. 
Lye. — P. Leedginge is from the Vv. 
allegt r, to aeswagt , mil igate, allay, solace. 
1 raw. This stanza is in Bel. : 

Then aunswerde him a courteous knighte, 
A nd fast his handes gan wringe : 

Syr ( lauline is sicke, and like to dye 
Withoul a good leechinge. — F. 

3 Fetche me.- Eel. 

4 Cp. I spaine in Eger $• Grime, 

vol. i. p. 362-3, p. 393.— F. 

4 Goe take him doughe. — Eel. An 
odd misreading of Percy's. The & is 
redundanl (as ii so often is), ami doe is 



the auxiliary verb. — F. 

6 ? MS. edne.— F. 

7 And serve him with.— ],', /. 

8 the red wine.— P. 

9 Lothe I were him to tine.— Eel. 

10 Fair Christ al.ellu to his chaumber 
goes. — Hi I. 

11 thou fayr ladye. — Bel. 

12 here i/(/r,/d\;\a in AW.]. — P. ? here 
soe cowardlye lye. — F. 

13 For it.— Bel. 

" You dye for loue of mee. — Eel. 
15 Fayre ladye, it is for your love. — 
Eel. 
10 Compare Sir Generides again, p. 238. 



SIR CAWLINE. 



him he'll get 
up. 



But he can't 
be her peer 



unless he'll 
watch all 
night by 
Eldridge 
Hill, 



and fight the 

Eldridge 

King. 



This. Sir 

Cawline 

undertakes, 



5G then were I brought ffrom bale to blisse; 
noe x longer here 2 wold I lye." 

3 " alas ! soe well you know, Sir knight, 
I cannott bee jour peere." 
60 " ffor some deeds of armes ffaine wold I doe 
to be jour Bacheeleere. 4 " 

" vpon Elclrige hill there growes 5 a thorne 
vpon the mores brodiuge G ; 
04 & wold you, 7 Sir Knight, wake there all night 
to day of the other 8 Morninge 9 ? 

"nor the Eldrige K:ing that is 10 mickle of Might 
will examine you beforne ; 
68 & there was neuer man that bare his liffe away 
since the day that I was borne. 11 " 

"but I will ffor yowr sake, ffaire Ladye, 
walke on the bents [soe] 12 browne, 13 
72 & He either bring you a ready e token 
or He neuer come to you againe. 14 " 



Again, when Sir Generides 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. 30-i-\ 

his love, Clarionas, comes to kiss him, 
and at once 

So glad he was of hir comyng, 
Of his enel he felt no-thing ; 
He kist and dipt with al his. might, 
And kept hir in his armes al that night. 

(p. 308.)— F. 

' ? MS. now.— F. 2 No lenger.— Rt 1. 

3 For the next stanza Rel. lias : 
Syr knighte, my father is a hinge, 

I am his onlye heire ; 
Alas! and well yon knowe, syr knighte, 

I never can he youro fere. 

() ladye, thou art a kinges daughter, 

\iiil I am not thv peere, 
Bui let nir 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.— I?'. I. 

6 brode, to prick. G.D.— P. ? breadth, 
cp. 1. 76.— F. ' dare ye.— Rel. 

8 Untill the fayre.— Rel. 

9 id est, till Day of the next Morning. 

10 knighte, so.— Rel. 

11 And never man bare life awaye, 

But he did him scath and seorne. 
-Rel. 12 Cp. 1. 81.— F. 

1:1 Thai knighte he is a foul paynim, 

Ami Large of limb and bone; 
And but if heaven may bo thy speede 

Thy life it is but gone 

Nowe on the Eldridgo hilles He 

walke, 

For thy sake, faire ladle. — Rel. 
" never more you see. — Rel. 



SIR CAWLINE. 

but this Ladye is gone to her Chamber, 1 
her Maydens ffollowing bright ; 
70 & Str Cawlins gone to the mores soe broad, 2 
ffor to wake there all night. 

vnto midnight they 3 Moone did rise, 
he walked vp and downe, 
80 & a lightsome bugle then 4 heard he blow 
ouer the bents soe browne. 
saies hee, " and if cryance 5 come vntill 6 my hart, 
I am ffarr ffrom any good towne 7 ; " 

84 & he spyed ene a litle him by, 8 
a ffuryous King 9 & a 10 ffell, 
& a n ladye bright his brydle led, 
that seemly e itt was to see 12 ; 

88 & soe fast hee called vpon 13 Sir Cawline, 
" Oh man, I redd thee fflye ! 
ffor if cryance come vntill H thy hart, 
I am a-feard least l5 thou mun dye." 

92 he sayes, " [no] cryance comes to 16 my hart, 
nor ifaith I ffeare not thee 17 ; 
ffor because 18 thou minged l9 not christ before, 
Thee lesse me dreadeth thee." [page 370] 



and goes to 
the moor. 



At midnight 



a bugle 
blows ; 



he sees a 
furious king, 



who warns 
him that 
if he's craven 
he'll die. 



1 The ladye is gone to her owne 
chaumbere. — Bel. 

2 Syr Cauline lope from care-bed 

soone, 
And to the Eldridge bills is gone. — 
Bel. Two bad lines for one good one. 
— F. 

3 that the. Bel. 

* Then a Lightsome bugle. — Bel. 

5 MS. cryamce. Fear, Old Vv. criente, 
crainte. — F. ^, 

6 Quoth hee, If cryance come till. — 
Bel. 

' 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.'' 
■ ■ V. 

8 And soone he spyde on the mores 
so broad. — Bel. 

9 knight : vide infra. — P. 
111 witjit and. -Bel. 

u A.— Bel. 

12 Clad in a fayre kyrtell.— Bel. 

" on- Bel. 

11 Km- 1ml if cryanco come till. — Bel. 
15 I weene but.— Bel. 
1(1 He savtb, 'No' cryanco comes till. 
— Bel. 

17 in faith, 1 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 shooke a speare, 
the Kmg was bold, and abode 1 , 
& the timber these 2 Children bore 2 
soe soone in sunder slode, 3 
100 if or they tooke & 4 2 good swords, 
& they Layden on good Loade. 5 



Cawline cuts 
off the 
King's right 
hand. 



but the Elridge ~Kincj 6 was mickle of might, 
& stiffly to the ground did stand ; 7 
104 but S/r Cawline with an aukeward 8 stroke 
he brought him ffrom his hand, 9 

I, & fflying ouer his head soe hye, 10 
ffell downe of y l that Lay land : 



His Queen 
begshini to 



spare 
her Lord, 



108 ,2 & 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, 



I The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his 

steed ; 
Syr Cauline bold abode : 
Then cither shooke his trustye 
gpeare. — Bel. 
" bare. — Bel. s yode. — Bel. 

4 " & " is often redundant : compare 
line 120.— Dyee. 

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 kuight.— Bel. 

7 And stiffe in stower did stande. — 
Bel. 

8 a backward. — Bel. 

9 smote off his right hand. — Bel. 

10 That Sonne he with paine and laeke 
of bloud.— Bel. 

II on.- Bel. 

'-' For the next two stanzas /iV.has six : 

Then up Byr Cauline lift his brande 

All over his head so hye: 
Ami lure I sweare by the holy roode, 

Nimr, caytiffe, thou shall dye. 



Then up and came that ladye brighte, 
Faste wringing of her hande : 

For the maydens love, that most you 
love, 
Withold that deadlye brande. 

For the maydens love, that most you 
love, 

Now smyte no more I praye ; 
And aye whatever thou wilt, my lord, 

He shall thy hests obaye. 

Now sweare to mee, thou Eldridge 
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 playi : 
Ami that thou here give up thy armes 

Until thy dying d.iye. 

The Eldridge knighte gave up his armes 

With many a sorrowfulle si^he; 
And sware to obey syr Caulines hest, 

Till the tyme that he shold dye 



SIR CAWLINE. 



112 " & lieest neuer come vpon Eldrige [hill] 
him to sport, garaon, or play, 
& to ineete noe man of middle l earth, 
& that hues 2 on christs his lay. 3 " 

116 but he then vp, and that Eldryge 'King 4 
sett him in his sadle againe, 5 
& that Eldryge King G & his Ladye 
to then- castle are they gone. 7 

120 8 & liee tooke then vp & that Eldryge sword 
as hard as any fflynt, 



and he'll 
never fij, r lit 
Christian 
again. 

The King 



and Queen 
ride off. 



Cawline 

takes up 
his sword, 



1 ? MS. tnildle; 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 leeves, i.e. believes. — P. 

3 lay, i. e. law. — P. 

4 And he then up and the Eldridge 
knighte. — Eel. 

5 anone. — JRel. 

6 And the Eldridge knighte. — Bel. 
1 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 be tooke up the Eldridge sworde, 

As hard as any flint; 
And be tooke off those ringes five, 

As brighl as lyre and brent. 

Eome then pricked syr ('.-inline 

As light as leafe on tree : 
I-wys he neither stinl ne blanne, 

Till be his ladye see. 

Then downe be knelt upon his I 

Before I bal lady gay : 
l ) ladye, I have I. in on the Eldridge hills ; 

These 1 nkeiis 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. 



ladye, I am thy own true knighte, 

Thy hests for to obaye : 
And mought I hope to winne thy love ! — 

Ne more his tonge colde 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, 
He promise if thee I may not wedde 

I will have none other fere. 

Then shee held forthe her lilly-white 
hand 
Towards that knighte so free : 
He gave to it one gentill kisse, 
His heart was brought from balo to 
blisse, 
The teares sterte from his ee. 



Put keep my counsayl, syr Cauline, 

Ne let no man it knowe ; 
Fui' and ever my lather sholde it ken, 

I wot he wolde us sloe. 

r, ana i ! i , 1 1 daye forthe that ladye faj re 

Lovde syr Cauline the knighte: 
From that daye forthe he onlyjoyde 

\\ han slice was in his sight. 

Yea and oftentimes they mette 

Within a fay re arboure, 
Where they in hive and sweet daliaunce 

Past niaiiye a pleasaun! boure. 



10 



SIR CAWLINE. 



rings and 
hand, 



and grives 
them to 
his love. 



124 



& soe he did those ringes 5, 
harder then flyer, and brent. 

ffirst he presented to the K.ings daughter 
they hand, & then they sword. 



Part the Second. 

Everye -white will have its blacke, 
And everye sweete its sowre : 

This founde the ladye Christabelle 
In an untimely 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 arbonre 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 : 

Nowe, tray toure, 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. 

Now, 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 Christabelle, from thee to parte, 

Farre lever had I dye. 

Faire Christabelle, that ladye bright, 
Was had fortlio of the towro ; 

But ever slice 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, 

Ne comforte she colde flnde, 
The kynge proclaimed a tourneament, 

The * cheere his daughters mind : 

And there came lords, and there came 
knights, 

Fro manye a farre countrye, 
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 Christabelle soe woe-begone 

Was the fayrest of them all. 

Then manye a knighte was mickle of 
might 
Before his ladye gaye ; 
But a strangor wight, whom no man 
knewe, 
He wan the prize eche daye. 

His acton it was all of blacke, 

His hewberke, and his sheelde, 
Ne noe man wist whence he did come, 
Ne noe man knewe where he did gone, 
Whan they came out the feelde. 

And now three days were prostlye past 

In feates of chivalrye, 
When lo upon the fourth morninge 

A sorrowfullc sight they see. 

A hugye giaunt stiffe and starke, 
All foule of limbe and lore ; 

Two goggling eyen like fire farden, 
A mouthe from care to eare. 

Before him came a dwarffe full lowe, 
That waited on his knee, 

* To. 2nd edition.— F. 



SIR CAWLINE. 



11 



" but a serrett l buffett you baue him giuen, 
the King & the crowne ! " shee sayd. 
128 "I, but 34 2 stripes 

cornen beside the rood." 3 

& a Gyant that was both stiffe [&] strong, 
he lope now them amonge, 
132 & vpon 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 

ffor feare he shold them greeffe. 6 

"He tell thee mine Arrand, King" he sayes, 
" mine errand what I doe heere ; 
] 40 ffor I will bren thy temples hye, 

or He haue thy daughter deere ; 

in, or else vpon, yond more soe brood 
thou shalt ffmd mee a ppeare. 7 ' 

144 the King he turned him round about, 
(Lord, in his heart he 8 was woe !), 



But he has 
more to do. 



A five- 
headed giant 
leaps in, 



drinks the 
King's wine, 



and demands 



his 
daughter. 



The King's 
in a great 
fright, 



says, " is there noe Knight of the 9 round table and asks 
this matter will vndergoe ? £? ht for 

° him, 



And at his backe five heads he hare, 
All wan and pale of blee. 

Sir, quoth the dwarfiv, and louted 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 couslne, 
Whom a knight of thine hath Bhent : 
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 fayremayd, 

Thy halls and towers must brenne. 

Thy head, syr king, must goo with nice ; 
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. Fr. serrer, to close . . force or 
presse neere together ; to locke, shut or 
put up. Cotgrave. If a king's daughter 
might talk slang, "a sliutting'-up blow" 
would just do here. — F. 

* Read " four and thirty."— F. 

3 Somo very great omission here. — P. 

1 swire, neck. Percy turns the 
" squieri' into a dwarf, with five dead 
kings' heads at his back. But the Bishop 
knew what swire meant. — F. 

5 unmacMey, uneven, unequal, mis- 
shapen. Makly is even, equal. G. D. 
— P. ° groove. — P. 

7 MS. appoare. — F. a peere. — P. 

8 And in his heart. — AW. 

9 Is there never a knighte of mj.—Rel. 



12 



SIR CAWLINE. 



and have his 
lands 



and 

daughter. 



148 J " I, & hee sliall haue my broad Lauds, 
& keepe them well his hue ; 
I, aud soe hee shall my daughter deere, 
to be his weded wiffe." 



1 Percy composes again : 

Is there never a knighte amongst yee all 
Will fight for my daughter and mee ? 

AVhoever will fight yon grimme soldan, 
Eight fair his meede shall bee. 

For 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 
Did stand both still and pale ; 

For whenever they lookt on the grim 
soldan, 
It made their hearts to quail. 

All woe-begone was that fayre ladye, 
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 : 
He 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 bo stiff in stowre. 

Goe fetch him downe the Eldridge 
sworde, 
The kinge he cryde, with speede : 
Nowe heaven assist thee, courteous 
knighte ; 
My daughter is thy meede. 

The p- vaunt he stepped into the lists, 

And sayd, A wave, awaye : 
I sweare, as I am the hend soldan, 

Thou leltest mo hero all daye. 

Then forthe the stranger knight hocamo 
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. 

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 sliall 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 (lie kinge with all his barons 
Hose uppe from offe his scale, 

And downe he stepped inlu I he listes 
That curt eons knighte to greete. 

Bui he for payne and lacke of bluude 
Was fallen into a swounde, 



SIR CAWLINE. 

152 & then stood vp Sir Cawline 
his owne errand ffor to say : 
" ifaith, 1 I wold to god, Sir," sayd St'r Cawline, 
" that Soldan I will assay. 

156 " goe, ffeitch me downe my Eldrige sword, 
ffor I woone itt att [a] ffray." 
" but away, away ! " sayd the hend Soldan, 
" thou tarryest niee here all day ! " 

1G0 but the hend Soldan & Sir Cawline 
the Sought a summers day : 
now has hee slaine that hend Soldan, 
& brought his 5 heads away. 



13 

Sir Cawline 



agrees to 
fight the 
Giant. 



He does so, 



and slays 
him. 



1 G4 & the 'King has betaken him his broade lands 
& all his venison. 2 

" but take you too & jour Lands [soe] broad, 
& brooke 3 them well jour liffe, 
1G8 ffor you promised mee jour daughter deere 
to be my weded wiffe." 



The King 

gives 

Cawline 

all his lands, 

but Cawline 
asks for his 



daughter, 



And there all walteringe in his gore, 
Laye lifelesse on the grounde. 

Come downe, come downe, my daughter 
dc-.in , 
Thou art a leeche of skille ; 
Farre Lever bad 1 lose halfe my landes, 

Than thi.s good knighte sholde spille. 

Downe then steppeth that fayre ladye, 

To helpe him if she maye; 
But whin she did his beavere raise, 
It is my life, my lord, she sayes, 

And shriekte and swound awaye. 

Sir Cauline juste Lifte up bis eyes 
When be beard his ladye crye, 

ladye, I am thine owne true love. 
For thee J wisht to dyo. 

Tin ii giving luf one partingo looke, 
Ho dosed his eyes in deathe, 



Ere Christahelle, that ladye milde, 
Begane to drawe her breathe. 

But when she found her comelye knighte 

Indeed was dead and gone, 
Shoe layde her pale cold cheeke to his, 

And thus she made her moane. 

O staye, my deare and onlye lord, 
For mee thy faithfulle feere; 

Ti meet thai I shold followe time, 
Wlio hast bought my love soe deare. 

Then fayntinge in a deadlye swoune, 
And with a deepe-fette sighe, 

That burste her gentle hearte in frwayne, 
Fayre Christabelle did dye. 

1 In faith. — P. 

2 all for his warryson, i.e. reward. 
—P. 

3 broke, i.e. enjoy. — P. 



14 



SIR CAWLINE. 



and the 
King 



promises her 
to him 
at once. 



" now by my ffaith," then sayes our "King, 
" ffor that wee will not striffe ; 
172 ffor thou shalt haue my daughter dere 
to be thy weded wiffe." 



[page 371] 



Cawline 



goes into a 
garden to 
pray, 

where a 
steward 



the other morninge Sir Cawline rose 
by the dawning of the day, 
176 & vntill a garden did he goe 
his Mattins ffor to say ; 

& that Lespyed a ffalse steward — 
a shames death that he might dye !- 



lets a lion 
out on him 



■weaponless. 



180 & he lett a lyon out of a bande, 
Sir Cawline ffor to teare ; 
& he had noe wepon him vpon, 
nor noe wepon did weare. 



He thrusts 

hiscloakinto 

the lion's 

mouth 

till its heart 

bursts. 



184 but hee tooke then his Mantle of greene, 
into the Lyons mouth itt thrust ; 
he held the Lyon soe sore to the wall 
till the Lyons hart did burst. 1 



A watchman 
cries, " Sir 
Cawline's 
slain." 



His love 
swoons, 



188 & the watchmen cryed vpon the walls 
& sayd, " Sir Cawlines slaine ! 
and w/th a beast is not ffull litle, 
a Lyon of Mickle mayne." 

192 then the 'Kings daughter shee ffell downe, 
" for peerlesse is my payne ! " 



but Sir 
Cawline 



says " I am 
here," 



" peace, my Lady ! " sayes S/r Cawline, 
" I haue bought thy loue ffull deere. 
106 peace, my Lady ! " sayes S/r Cawline, 
" peace, Lady, ffor I am heere ! " 



1 brast.— P. 



SIR CAWLINE. 



15 



200 



then lie clid marry this Kmga daughter 

wi'th gold & siluer bright, 
& 15 sonnes this Ladye beere 



to Sir Cawline the Knight. 1 



marries her 



and they 
have 15 sons. 



ffins. 



1 N.B. I ventured to make great addi- 
tions to this Fragment ; of which. I have 
given notice to the Reader, in my I s .' Vol. 
of Reliques &e. — P. The" notice " con- 
sists 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 ; 
and two notes that he has altered — slode, 
1. 99, to yode, and aukewctrd, 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 
Paet, and at the beginning of the Second, 



the reader will observe a resemblance to 
the story of Sigismunda and Guiscard, 
as told by Boccace and Dryden: See 
the latter's Description of the Lovers 
meeting in the Cave, and those beautiful 
lines, which contain a reflection so like 
this of our poet, " everye 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 



[In five Parts.— P.] 

There are extant two complete MS. copies of this romance — one 
in the Auchinleck 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. 257 b.) 
Lystenyb, lordynges gente & fro, 
y wyll yow tell of sir degare. 
knyjtes \>at were some tyme in lande, 
Far bey wolde J>em-selfe fande 
To seke auenturs nyght & day, 
How \>at bey my3t )>er strenkyth assay. 
So dud a knyght sir degare, 
I scliall yow telle what man was he. 
In bretayne be lasso ber was a kyngo, 
Of grete power in all thynge ; 
Styffeste in armowr vndur schylde, 
And moost doghtyest to fy3t in fylde ; 
For ther was none verament 
That my3t in warre nor in twrnament, 
Nodur in Iustyng for no thynge, 
Hym owte of hys sadull brynge, 
Nor owt of hys sterop brynge hys foto ; 
[fol. 258] So stronge he was of boone & 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 ver- 
sions. 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 bloud 
And I haue horse and armure good 
And as I trowe a full good steedo 
I wyll assaye if I may spede 
And I may beare the kinge downe 
I maye be a man of great renownc 
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. 

QFrom Donee's MS. 261, fol. 8.) 

Syr Degore stode in study than 
And thought ho was a doughtye man 
And I am in my younge bloode 
And I haue horse and armure good 
And as I trowc a full good steede 
I wyll assaye yf that I may spede 



1 Donee'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 l!<il>cr! ///<■ /Jrril was printed 
by J. Herbert, in 1798 was certainly 
written by the person who wrote the 
present MS., and illuminated with tlio 
same kind of rude drawings. He was 
probably a. collector of met rical romances 
liko the transcriber of Bishop Percy's 

VOL. III. 



celebrated MS., which was written al 
the time of Charles II. ; and there may 
be other volumes of the like nature as 
the present existing in obscure Libra- 
ries, and ei'eii made up by the present. 

bran criber. 

•• 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, 
an 1 ■ MEasterre Samuelle Irelande'?" 



18 SIR DEGREE. 

And yf I maye beare the Kinge downo 
I maye be a man of greate renown e 
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 
Thus in the cyttye hys ynne he takes 
And rested hym and myrry makes 
(So vpon a daye the Kinge he mette 
He kneled downe and fayre hym grette 
He sayde Syr Kinge of muche myght 
My lorde bathe sent me to youe right 
To warne youe howe yt shalbe 
My lorde will come and iuste with the 

) 

The Auchinleck MS. narrates this same " study : ' in this 

wi^e : 

{From Abbotsford Club Copy.) 

Sire Degarre thous thencbe gan, 
" Ieb am a staleworht man ; 
And of min owen Ich baue a stede, 
Swerd, & spere, & riehe wede ; 
And }if Ich felle the Kyng adoun, 
Euere Ich baue wonnen renoun. 
And thei that he me harte sore, 
No man wot wer Ich was bore ; 
Whether doth 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 Eegisters 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 Vrialis, nyce wanton, impatiens poverte, the proud 
wyves pater noster, the Squyre of Low deggre, Syr deggre ; graunted 
the X of June 1560. ij s . 

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 four- 
teenth century, for that is the date at which the Auchinleck MS. 
was written. Warton (who gives a most inaccurate analysis of 
.t, which is transcribed by the editor of the Abbotsford Club 
edition) conjectures that it may belong to the same century as 
the Squire of Loiv Degree and Sir Guy — that is, according to 
him, the thirteenth. 

For the name, says the Auchinleck MS. : 

DegSre nowt elles ne is 

But thing that not never whar is 

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 nega- 
tive 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 rearrange- 
ment 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. 



c 2 



20 



SIR DEGREE. 



[The First Part.] 



[How Sir Degree's Father ravished a Princess, and begat him ; and how he was 

brought up by a Hermit.] 



I'll tell yon a 



talc of Sir 
Degree. 



An English 
king, 



feared in 
fight, 



has a 

beautiful 

daughter. 



She is wooed 
by well-born 
suitors, 



LoRDINGS, & you will hold you still, 

a gentle tale I will you tell, 

all of knights of this countrye 
4 the w7«'ch haue trauelled beyond the sea, 

as did a knight called Sir Degree, 

one of the best was ffound him before. 1 

that 2 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 with him in turnament 

that out of bis 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 7 ; 1 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 va- 
rious readings here). 

2 what.— P. 

3 in Shield.— P. 

4 when first taken mil of the lish ii 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 toxt is 
frequently found in much later poets; e.g. 
To show his teeth as ivkitc as whale' s- 

bone. 
Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost, v. 2. 

Dyce. 



SIR DEGREE. 



21 



but then they Kmg he made answer, 

" that neu«s/- man hee shold wedd her 

wt'th-out hee might with stont Iustiuge 
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 vpon a day the King wold ryde 
3G vnto an abbey there besyde, 

to a dirges & masses 2 both, 

the pore to ffeed, & the naked to cloth. 

his owne daughter shee with 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 the came att Last. 

then varryed they wonderous ffast, 5 



but none can 
win her 



by unhorsing 
tin' King in a 
joust. 



On the 
anniversary 
of bis 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, 12 
— F. 

To do diriges and masses botho.— I'll. 
To do dyryges & masses botbe. — Ff. 
(Cambr. MS. Ff. ii. 38.) 

3 space of time. — P. 



* perhaps Laue. see Part 5, line 58. 
—P. 

5 And into a lando they came at the 
laste, 
Then weried they wonder fasto. — Utt. 
In-to a launde they are comen 
And bane ryght well vndwnomen. 

— Ff. 



00 



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 hand- 
some knight, 



who tells her 
that 



he has long 
loved her, 
and Bhe 



ffor the wist amisse they had gone, 
56 & downe the light euery one. 

the wheather was hott affore none ; 

the wist not what was best ffor to haue done, 

hut layd them downe vpon the greene. 
60 some of them ffell on sleepe, as I weene, 

& thus they fell on sleepe euerye one 

sauing the 'Kings daughter alone, 

& shee went fforth to gather mowers 
64 & to heare the song of the small ffowles. 

soe long shee did fforth passe 

till that shee wist not where itt was. 

then can shee cry wonderous sore, 
68 shee weeped & wrange her hands thore, 1 

& sayes, " alacke that I was borne ! 

her in 2 this fforrest I am fforlorne, 

& wilde beasts will me rende 
72 or 3 any man may mee ffind ! " 

tliey way to her damsells shee wold haue came, 

but shee wist not how to come. 4 

then shee was ware of a Ioyfull sight : 
76 a-fore her there stood a ffayre Knight 

tli at was wellfauored of ffoote & hand; 

there [was] not such a one in all the Land ; 

& by the rich clothing that hee had on, 
80 hee seemed to be a gentleman. 5 

soe stout a man then was hee, 

he sayes, " Madam, god yee see ! 

be yee dread arright of nought ; 
84 I haue noe armour with me brought, 

but I haue loued you this many a yeere, 

& now that I haue ffound you here 



1 I here— P. 
,J MS. herin.— F. 
8 before. I'. 

4 The waye to her damosels shewolde 
haue numc. — I'm. 



To lmr maydenys sche vrolde anone, 
But sche wyste not whych wey to 
goon.— Fi'. 
5 gentlemon. — P. 



ylR DEGREE. 



23 



you shall bee my Leim»an ere I goo, 

88 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, 

92 & he did with her whatsoeuer hee wold, 
& there hee bereft her of her maydenhead. 2 
& right before her the Knight stoode : 
& hee sayes, " Madam gentle & ffree, 

96 now with 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, 
loo therewith the Last I did kill a Gyant, 
& I brake the poynt of itt in his head, 
& here in the fforrest I haue him Layd. 4 
take itt vp now, dame, fFor itt is heere ; 

104 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." 

108 hee kist his loue, & went then ; 
the knight passed as hee come, 
all weeping the Ladye the sword vp nume, 5 
& shee went fforth sore weeping, 

112 & there shee ffound her mayds sleeping, 
shee hid the sword as well as slice might, 
& called them vp anon-right, 
& tooke 6 their horsses euerye one, 

116 & 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 
liis sword 
with liiT Eor 

the boy 



so that he 
may here- 
after know 
him by it. 

He then goes 
away. 

The Princess 
takes his 
sword, 

returns to 
(u C maids, 



and they ride 
till they 
meet her 
Father's 
knight . 



1 weale or woe. — P. 

2 maydenhood. — P. 

: ' A hoy, a male child. So in Chauc. 
-P. 
1 ? MS. Lqydor Lqgd.— F. layd.— P. 
And in the felde I it Leued. — Utt. 



I brake the poynt in his hedd, 
Where-of y wot ]>at he was dedd, 

-Ff. 
5 nume, nomc, took ; Sax. niman, to 
take.— P. 
'■ They took.— P. 



24 



SIR DEGREE. 



who lead 
them to the 
abbey. 



After service 



all ride 
home, and 
are merry. 



The Princess 
glows big, 
and \veeps> 
oi'tcn. 



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 

Si-.y.-t she*ll 
manage itall 

secretly. 



ffroHi they 'K.ing they were sent 

120 to witt w7i/ch 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, with ricb offeringe ; 
& when these masses were all done, 
& come to passe the hye noone, 
the "King to his pallace did ryde, 

] 28 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 ffull sore, 
soe vpon a day shee can sore weepe, 
& a mayd of hers tooke good heede 2 
& said, " Madam, ffor S' Chary tye, 

136 why weepe yee soe sore ? tell itt mee ! " 
" mayden, if I shold tell itt before, 
if thou shold mee beraye 3 I were but Lore ; 
ffor euer I haue beene meeke & mild, 

1 40 & trulye now I am with 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, 

145 ffor all his loue is Layde on mee." 

" O gentle Lady, greeue itt nougbt ; 
stilly itt shall bee fforth brought ; 
there shall none know itt certainlye, 
152 truly, Madam, but you and I." 



[page 373] 



1 time.— P. 

- perhaps, keep.— P. 



■ bewray. — P. 

1 place. -P. 



SIR DEGREE. 



2.5 



the time was come that sliee was vnbound, 

& 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, 
ICO & was ready till haue gone. 

then was this Child to with mother hold ' ; 

shee gaue itt 20V in gold, 

and 10" in siluer alsoe ; 
1G4 vnder his head shee can itt doe ; 

& much itt is that a Child behoues. 2 

with itt shee giues a payre of gloues, 

& bade the child wed no whTe in Lande 
168 without those gloues wold on her hand ; 

& then the gloues wold serue no where, 

sauing the mother that did him beare. 

a letter with the Child put shee, 
172 with the gloues alsoe perdye : 

then was itt in the Letter writt, 

whosoeuer itt found, shold itt witt, — 

' ffor gods loue, 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 siluer that is heare, 
180 till the time that hee may armoure beare ; 

& helpe him with 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 30i. 
under his 
head, 



a pair 
of gloves, 

(the boy is to 
marry no 
girl unless 
they'll 
tit 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. 
Yi t was the childe vnto tho mother 
hold.— Utt. 



3yt hys modur can hym boholde 
And toko iiij powndo of golde. — Ff. 

2 is of use to. — P. 

3 perhaps done. — P. 



26 



SIR DEGREE. 



boy and 
cradle 



to a 
hermit's 



door, 

anil leaves 
them there. 



Next 
morning 



the hermit 
finds the 
boy, 



thanks 
Christ, 



christens the 
child 



Sir Degree 
(t. i. almost 
lost), 



with 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, " Lore?, I crye thee mercye ! 
200 methinke I heare a younge chyld crye." 

this holy man his dore vndid, 

& ffound the Child in that stead. 

there he lift vp the sheete anon, 
204 & looked on the litle groome 4 ; 

then held he vp his right hand, 5 

& thanked Iesus christ in that stond, 6 

& bare the child into the Chappell. 
208 ffor ioy of him hee wronge the bell, 

And layd vp the gloues & the treasure, [page 374] 

& christened the child with much honor, 

& in the worshipp of the holy Triny tye 
212 he called the childs name Sir Degree ; 

ffor Degree, to vnderstand I- wis, 

a thing that almost lost itt is ; 

as a thing; that was almost lost aaroe, 7 
216 therfore he called his name soe. 



1 briere. — P. Pronounced brere 
Levins, col. 209, 1. 15.— F. 

2 dwelling. — P. 

3 servant-boy. — P. 

4 puer, famulus. Jun. — P. grome 
Utt. grome. — Ff. 



see 5 honde.— P. 

6 There is a tag at the end like an s. 
—F. 

7 gone, past. — P. A Dcgarer would 
no doubt be formed from a Low-Latin 
devagari, as degaster from devastate. — F. 



SIR DEGREE. 



27 



the Hermitt he was a holy man of liffe, 
& he had a sister which was a wiffc, 
& sent this child to her full raue l 
220 w/th much mono by his knaue, 

& bade that shee shold take good heede 
the litle child to Nourish & ffeede. 
this htle Chyld Degree, 

224 vnto the Cytye borne was hee. 
the goodman & the wiffe in fifere 
kept the child as itt their owne were 

till the time 10° 2 winters were come & spent ; 

225 then*to the hermitt they him sent, 
the hermitt longed him to see ; 

then was [he] a ffayre child & a ffree, 
& he taus-ht this child of clarkes Lore 

232 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, 

236 & 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. 

240 hee looked there-in the same steade 7 ; 

"hermitt," hee sayd, " ffor St. Charytye, 
was this letter made by 8 mee ? " 



and sends 
him to his 

sister 



to be suckled. 



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] P. C— P. rathe 
(=raue). — Utt. soon. — Ff. and grome 
for knaue in 1. 220. - ten.— P. 

3 powere. — P. ' stout. — P. 

5 And of his tyine,* a well good cderkc. 

—Utt. 
And also of hys tyme, a godo clerko. 

~Ff. 
fi IIo toko hym hys tresure and hys 
gloffe 



That he had token to hys be-hoffe. 

— Ff. 
lit. has no Mm in 1. 237, hut has it in 
1. 238.— Skeat. 

7 IIo loked therin the same stede.f 

—Utt. 
And he behelde all that dede. — Ff. 
s about, concerning. — F. Same in 
Utt. as in Percy. Was Jjys lettur wretyn 
for me ? — Ff. — Skoat. 



* " of hys time ''=/<>?• his time, /or his day. — Skeat. 

t "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," liee sayes, "by him that mee deeme shall, 
244 thus I you. Sound ; " and told him all. 

he sett him on his knees ffull blythe, 

& thanked the hermitt often sythe ; 

& he gaue the hermitt halfe of the golde ; 
248 & the remnant vp did hee ffoulde. 



and says he'll 
search out 
his father, 



armed only 



with a good 
oak sapling. 



Degree sets 
off through a 
forest, 



[The Second Part.] 

[How Degree kills a Dragon, and prepares to fight a King.] 

^Then sayes Degree, " I will not blinne l 
till I haue ffound my ffather or some of my 

kinne. 1 " 
" to seeke thy kinne 1 thou mayst not endure 
2': parte. <t without horsse or good armour. 2 " 
then sayd Degree, " by St. Iohn, 
horsse nor harnesse He haue none, 
but a good bitter 3 in my hand, 
256 Lmine 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, 
260 or be hee neuer soe tall a man, 5 — 
I shall him ffell to the ground 
with this same batt in that stond." 
the Child kissed the hermitt thoe, 6 
264 & 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, 
268 till itt passed the hye noone ; 



MS. me for nno. — F. 



armoure. 



8 A.-S. bitd, beetle.— F, 



4 on whom. The o of stroke in this 
lino is eaten out by ink.— F. 



mon. 



-P. 



6 then.— P. 



SIR DEGREE. 



29 



then heard hee great stroakes ffall 

that made great noyse wi'thall. 

fFull soone lie thought that thing to see, 
272 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, 
276 but his hounds were gone him ffroe. 

& there was a Dragon ffeirce and grim, 

fFull of flyer & alsoe of venim, 

wt'th a wyde throate, & tushes great, 

280 vpon the Erie can he beate ; 
& as a Lyon were his ffeete ; 

his tayle was long & ffull vnmeete ; 
betweene his head & his tayle 

28 1 22 flbote without ffayle. 

his belly was like a whole tunn, 

itt shone ffull bright againe the l ssunn. 

His eyen as bright as any glasse, [page 375] 
288 his scales as hard as anye 2 brasse ; 

& therto hee was necked like a horsse, 

& bare his head vpp with great ffbrce ; 

hee was to looke on, as I you tell, 
292 as thoe hee had beene a fleende of hell ; 

many man hee had shent, 3 

& many a horsse hee had rent ; 

& to this Erie hard battell he began, 
296 but hee defended him like a man, 

& boldlyc stroke on him With his sword 4 ; 

but of his stroakes he was not affeard, 

ffor his skin was as hard as anye stone, 
300 where-ffore hee cold him noe harme done. 

& when the Erie degree see, 

he sayd " hclpe, 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 nn 
Earl. 



The Earl 
calls on 
Degree to 
help him, 



1 There is a tag to the c. — F. 
1 ( Ine stroke too 6 w in the MS. 



3 int. al. marred, spoiled, &e. — P. 
I'. * 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 
hi in half his 
land 



tli en answered Sir Degore, 

304 " gladlye ! " he sayes, and god before. 1 
when the dragon of Degree had 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 ffell downe. 
the dragon recouered anon-right, 

312 & hitt the Child with such might 
with his tayle in that tyde, 
that hee ffell downe vpon his side, 
then degree 2 recouered anon-right, 

316 & defended him with much 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 hitt 4 him on the croAvne soe hye 
that hee made his braines ont 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. ; Ff. 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 I Inn*)/ V. i. 2. 
"Yet, God before, tell him we will 
come, on." — find. iii. o. 
1 <pioto these passages to show that 



this expression, which was very common 
in our earliest poetry, continued long in 
use. — Dyce. 

* ? MS. dregree.— F. 

3 toughe. — P. 

1 smote. — Utt. 
. 3 And on the hed ho hym hatrid, 
That hys hedd all-to-clatride. — Ff. 

,! times. — P. 

7 put into possession. Jun. — P. 



SIR DEGREE. 



31 



& alsoe Lis daughter to be his wiffe, 

332 & all his lands after his liffe. 

& then Sir Degree thanked him hartilye, 

and prayed him, " of his curtesye 

to lett his women affore him come, 
336 wiues, mayds, more and some, 

& alsoe jour daughter eke ; 

& if my gloues be ffor them meete, 

or will vpon of any of their hands, 
340 then wold I be ffaine ' 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 ~Lord of gentle blood, 

hee gaue Sir Degree a steede ffull good, 

& therto gaue him good armour 3 
352 which was ffairc and sure, 

& alsoe a page his man to bee, 

& a hackney to ryde on trulye. 

then fforth went Sir Degree, the sooth to say, 
356 many a mile vpon a summers day. 

soe vpon a day much people he mett ; 

he houed * still, & ffayre them grett ; 

he asked tin- squier what fcydinge, 
360 & wence came all those people rydinge. 

the squier answered verament, 

he sayd, " they came fl'rom the pro-lament. 

& when they powlaiment was most planere," 
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 
tin 1 Parlia- 
ment 

of a King 
who has 



1 glad.— P. '-' your. I'. 

3 1'. lias added an e ;ii the end in the 



.MS, F. 
4 halted, stood.— F. 



full. 



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 saysho'll 

joust with 

him. 

The King is 

»/l;. -I. 



' If any man durst be soe bold 

As with, the King lust wold, [pagc37«j 

he shold haue his daughter in marryage, 
368 & all his lands & his herytage.' 

itt is a land good and ffayre, 

& the king thereto hath no hey re. 

certaine no man dare grant thereto ; 
372 many a man assay d, & might not doe, 

for there is no man that rides to him 

but hee beates them with stroakes grim ; 

of some hee breakes the necke anon ; 
376 of some he brakes backe and bone ; 

some through the bodye hee glyds ; 

& some to the death hee smites. 

vnto him may a man doe nothinge, 
380 such a grace euer hath our Kinge." 

Sir Degree stood in a study then, 

& thought hee was a mighty man, 

" & I am in my younge blood ; 
384 & I haue horsse & armour goode, 

& as I trow I haue a good steede ; 

I will assay if I can speede ; 

& if I can beare that King downe, 
388 I shalbe a man of great renowne ; 

& if hee mee Sell can, 

there knowes no body who I am." 

thus in the Citye his inne he takes ; 
392 he rested him, & merry makes. 

soe on a day the King hee mett, 

he kneeled downe, & faire him grett, 

& sayd, " my Lor<i, thou King of much might ! 
396 my Lord hath sent mee to thee right 

to warne you how itt must bee : 

my Jjord will come & flight with yec ; 

to lust with thee my Lord hath nomm. 1 " 
400 the King sayd, " lice shalbe welcome, 



1 nomm, i.e. taken ; undertaken ; or taken upon him. —P. 



SIR DEGREE. 



33 



be hee rZnight or Barrowne, 
Erie, duke, or Clmrle l in towne : 
theres no man He 2 fforsake ; 

404 who all may winn, all let him take." 
soe on the Morrow the day was sett, 
the "King aduised much the bett, 
but there was not any liuing man 

408 that Sir Degree trusted vpon ; 

but to the church that day went hee 
to heare a Masse to the trinitye ; 
& to the ffather hee offered a ffloren, 

412 & to the sonne another ffine ; 

the 3? to the holy ghost hee offered ; 

the preist in his masse ffor him hee prayed. 

& when the Masses were done, 

416 vnto his inne hee went ffull soone, 
where hee did arme him well indeed 
in rich armor good att need, 
his good steed he began to stryde ; 

420 he tooke his speare, & fforth gan ryde. 
his man tooke another spere, 
and after his "Master did itt beare : 
thus in the ffeild Sir Degree abode then, 

424 & the Kmg came with many men. 



Next 
morning 



Degree 



goes to Mass, 



then arms 
himself, 



mounts, 
and rides 



into the field, 
where the 
King meets 
him. 



a slave, a vassal. See Chauc. — P. 



2 there is 



I will.— P. 



TOL. III. 



34 



SIR DEGREE. 



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. 



3? parte. «< 



432 



436 



440 



444 



448 



452 



[The Third Part.] 

[How Degree throws the King, and marries his own Mother.] 

Many came thither readylye 

ffor to see their iusting tralye ; 

& all that euer in the ffeild were, 

they sayd & did sweare 

that ' ere that time the neuer see 

soe ffayre a man with their eye 

as was that younge Knight Sir Degree ; ' 

.but no man wist ffrom wence came * hee. 

They rode together att the last 

vpon their good steeds ffull ffast : 

to dashe him downe he had meant, 

& in his sheild sett snch a dint 2 

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 neuer man that I might hitt 

that might euer 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 thought to haue smitten the child downe, 

& he hitt Sir Degree soone anon 

Right vpon the brest bone, 

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 ; 



[page 377] 



1 cane MS.— F. 

2 perhaps dent, impression, mark. 
-P. 



3 made on purpose for this adventure. 
-P. 

4 precipitation, see Jun. — P. 



SIR DEGREE. 



35 



by god I will aduise better, 
456 I will not long be his debtor ! " 

then they rode together with much might, 
& in their shields their speres pight l ; 
& in their sheelds their speres all to-broke 2 
460 vnto their hands with that stroke. 
& then the Kmg 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 Kmg tooke a spere stiffe & strong, 
& Sir Degree another strong & longe, 
& stoutlye to the Kmg hee smitt. 
472 [The 3 ] Kmg ffayled ; Sir Degree him hitt, 
he made the Kings horsse turne vp his ffeete, 
& soe S^r Degree him beate. 
then there was much noyse & crye ; 
476 the King 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 
430 the which, before shee neuer see, 
& to lead her Hue with such a one 
that shee neuer wist from whence hee came. 4 
the King sayd then to S/r Degore, 
484 " come hither, my ffayre sonne, me before, 
ffor if thou were as a gentle a man 
as thou art seeming to looke vpon, .- 
& if thou coldest witt & reason doe 
488 as thou art doughtye man too, 



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 
and his 
horse too. 



The King's 
daughter is 
sorry 
that she'll 
have to 
marry a 
stranger. 



The King 
calls Degree, 



1 struck, Gl. Chaucer. — P. 

2 There is a blotted letter in the MS. 



with an r over it. — F. 
3 The.— P. 



u 2 



(•(line. 



36 



SIB DEGREE. 



pires him 
hi? 

daughter, 
and makes 
him heir of 
his lauds. 



Degree 
marries 
the 

daughter, 
(no: trying 

■ 'ves 
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 thinke my Lands well besett 

if itt were 5 times bett l ; 

ffor -words spoken I must 2 needs bold. 

492 afore mj Barrons that beene soe bold, 
I take tbee my daugbter by tbe band, 
& I cease 3 tbee into my Land 
to be my beyre after mee, 

496 in Ioy and blisse ffor to bee." 

great ordinance tben tbere was wrougbt, 
& to tbe cbnrcb dore tbey were brougbt, 
4 & there were wedd in verament 

500 vnto tbe holy Sacrament. 

& looke what ffolly hapened there ! 
that he shold marry his owne mother, 5 
the wh ich had borne him of her syde ! 

504 & bee 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 pe/-aduenture they might be sibb. 7 
this did Sir 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 
with great myrth and solempnytyc. 
So- Degree stood & behold tben, 

516 & thought on the hermitt, the holy man, 
that hee shold neuer [wed] ffor-tliy 
neither wydow nor Ladye 



1 better, larger. — F. 

2 There are six strokes for mu in the 
MS.— F. 

ssession. — P. 

4 The Cambridge MS. 1'f. ii. 38 is in- 
complete, and ends here -with 

And were w.-ddyd to-gedor rerament 

vndur holy saerame: 

lo ! what fortun and lalaunce 



Be-fallyth many a man porow chau^ce, 
And comyp forbe in-to vncowpe lede, 

And takvth a -«-yfe. — Skeat. 



P. has added c at the end in the MS. 



-r. 



Cp. the same incident in Eglamore, 
vol. ii. p. 380, 1. 1065.— F. 
7 kin, relations. — P. 



SIR DEGREE. 



37 



wali-out shee might the gloues doe 

520 lightlye on her hands towe. 

" alacke ! " then saves S<r Degree, 

" the time that euer I borne sliold bee ! " 

& sayd anon with heauy eheere, 

524 " rather then all my Kingdome heere 
that is now ceazed into my hands, 1 
That [I were fayre out of this lande." 2 ] [page 37S] 
the King these words hard thoe, 

52s & sayes, "my sonne, why sayst thou soe ? 
is there ought against thv will 
either done or sayd, that dov thee ill, 
or any man that hath misdoone ? 

532 tell mee, & itt shall be amended soone." 
" no, Lord," sayes degree then, 
"but for this marryage 3 done has beene. 
I will not with no woman meddle, 

536 neither wiffe, widdow, nor damsell, 
without shee may these gloues doe 
Lightly vpon her hands tow." 
& when they Lady can that heere, 

540 anon shee changed all her eheere, 

for shee knew that the gloues longed to her, 
& sayes, " giue me the gloues, fayre Str." 
shee tooke the gloues in that steede, 

544 & lightly vpon her hands them did. 
then shee fell downe & began to cry ; 
says, (i Lord god, I aske thee mercy ! 
I am the mother that did you bra re, 

548 & you are mine owne sonne deere ! " 
Sir Degree tooke her vp thoe 
ffull lightly in his armes towe, 



thinks of 
bis gloves, 

and laments 



reless- 



The King 
asks what 
the matter 

is. 



Degree Baya 
he can lie 
with no 
woman 
whom his 
gloves will 
not fit. 



His wife 



asks for 
the gloves, 

i hem 

on, 



and tells 
Degree 

she Is his 

mother. 



They rejoice 



' Here follow a leaf and three quarters a The tag to the a, which 1 read e 

in a different handwriting. — F. here, and in lines 555, 567, 568, may 

'-' BIS. cut away. — F. not be mean! 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 DEGREE. 



ami 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 ffull blythe, 1 

552 & kissed together many a sithe. 

the King of them had much marueile, 
& at the noyse without fayle, 
& was abashed of their weepinge. 

556 " daughter ! what meanes this tiling ? " 
" father," shee sayd, " will you itt heere ? 
you wend that I a may den were, 
no, truly, ffather, I am none ! 

560 for itt is 20 winters a-gone. 

this is my sonne, god doth know, 
& by these gloues see itt, Lowe ! " 
shee told him altogether there 

564 how hee was begotten of her. 
& then bespake S?'r Degree, 
" sweet mother ! " sayd hee, 
" where is my fathers wooninge, 2 

568 or when heard you of him any tydinge ? " 
" sonne, 3 " shee sayd, " by heauen Kmye 
I can tell you of 1dm noe tydinge. 
but 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, 

& S/r degree itt out drew : 

Long & broad itt was, pardye ; 

there was not such a one in that country. 

" now truly," sayes Degree then, 

" hee that weelded itt was a man ! 

but if god of heauen hee may 5 keepe, 

night nor day I will not sleepe 

till that time I may my father see, 

584 in Christcndome if that hee bee." 



576 



580 



1 blifce, lsetus, Sax. 

2 dwelling.— P. 

:t ? MS. sound.— F. 



4 Hero again is the cth for Ich noticed 
bi fore, vol. i. p. 23, 1. 73, &c. &c.— F. 

5 her nice. — P. 



SIR DEGREE. 



39 



4' 1 parte < 



592 



596 



600 



604 



608 



Degree 
makes 
ready to 
start, 



and will 

take only 



his own 
man with 
him. 



[The Fourth Part.] 

[How Sir Degree sets out in search of his Father, falls in love, and undertakes to 

fight a Giant.] 

"He made [liim merry that ilk night,] l [page 379] 

& on the morrow when itt was day light 

hee went to the Chirch to heare a masse, 

& made him ready for to passe. 

the King sayd, " my next kinne, 2 

I will giue thee ~Knights w/th thee to winne. 3 " 

" Gramercy, Lo;v7," sayes Degree then, 

." but wi'th me shall goe no other man 
But my knaue that may take heede 
of my armour & of my steede." 
hee leapt on his horsse, the sooth 4 to say, 
& forthe he rode on his Iourney. 
many a mile & many a way 
hee rode forth on his palfrey, 
& euermor 5 hee rode west 
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 ; 
they sun went downe, & fayled light, 
soone after the found a castell cleere, — 
a Lady truly dwelled there, — 
a fayre Castle of lime & stone, 
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, 
& aske Lodging ffor Charity." 



They ride 
westward, 



and one 
night 



come to a 
castle, 



whore 
Degree 
resolves 



612 



to ask for 
lodging. 



1 p[rinted] c[opy]. — P. MS. pared pugnare, superare, lucrari, Bens'? Voc. 
away. — F. -P. 



2 The MS. lias one stroke too many. 
— F. 

3 A.S. winnan, lahorare, contendere, 



4 Truth.— P. 
6 ever anon. — P. 
8 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 
knicker- 
bockers 

come in 
from 

hunting, 



but will not 

speak to 
him. 



Then comes 
a dwarf 
four feet 
high, 



1 went.— P. 
8 Bease, the upper 
where tho high table 



the bridge itt was undrawen thoe, 

they gates they stood open alsoe. 

into they castle they can speede, 
616 but first they stabled vp their steede, 

& the sett vp their hackney. 

enonghe they found of corne & hay. 

they yode l 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 flyer ? " 
" but if hee come againe to night, 

628 I will him tarry, as I am true 'knight" 

hee sett him downe vpon 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 flayre & flree 

were trussed vp aboue the knee ; 

2 of them bowes did beare, 
636 & other towe charged were 

with, venison that was soe good. 

then S*x 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 ffull soone. 3 

anon then after that withall 
644 a dwarffe came into the hall : 

4 foote was they lenght of him ; 
his visage was both great & grim ; 

8 Only one stroke for the n in the MS. 
Part of the Hall : — F. 
stood. — P. 



SIR DEGREE. 



41 



the hayre that on liis head was, 
648 looked as yellowe as any glasse ; 

with milke white Lace & goodly hlee, 

ffull stoutly then Looked hee ; 

hee ware a sercote ' of greene, 
652 with hlanchmere 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 ; 

but he to him wold not speake 3 a word, 
660 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, 
664 & all things to supper he did dight. 

anon then with great Honor 

there came a Lac??/ forth of her bower, 

& with her shee had mayds 15 
668 r;7iat were some in red, & some in greene. 

Si'r degree ffollowed anon-right, 

but they spake not to the "Knight ; 

they yode 5 & washed euery one ; 
672 & then to super wold shee gone, 

that ffayre Lady that was soc bright. 

att middest of the messe shee sate downe right, 

& of euery side her maydens 5, 
676 ffayre & goodlye [as any were] 6 aliue. 7 



yellow - 
haired, 



green - 

coated, 



shoe- 
crooked. 



He too 
won't say a 
word to 
Degree, but 

lays the 
table 

for supper. 



Then comes 
a lady 
with fifteen 
maids, 



who also 
won't speak 
to Degree. 



The lady 
and 



her maidens 
sit down to 
supper. 



1 Sur-coat. — P. 

2 ? a kind of fur. — F. 

3 nold speake, sic leg'! 1 — P. 

4 The Sloane .MS. l>okc of Curtasye 
us wax candles to the sitting- and 

bed-moms, Candles of Paris (whatever 
they were) to the hall al supper time. 
In chainb«r no ly3t bez-shalh be brent, 



Pot of wax Jjer-to, yf 30 take tent. 

In halle at soper schalle caldelfl (so) 

brenne 
of parys, )>< r-in Jwt alle mew kenne. 
Babees Boke &c. p. 327, 1. 833-6. 

s went. — P. 

G & goodlye as any were. p. c. — P. 

7 On the back of pago 379, column 2 1 ? , 



42 



SIR DEGREE. 



Degree sits 
down too, 



and takes 
out his 
knife, 
but can 
hardly cat 
anything for 
looking at 
the beautiful 
lady. 

After supper 



the lady goes 
to her bed- 
room , 
and Degree 
follows her. 



She plays 



the harp, 



1 " By god," then sayes S*'r Degree, 
" I liaue you blessed, & you not mee ; 
but you seeme dumbe. by St. Iobn 

680 I will make you speake & I can ! " 
Sir Degree cold of curtesye ; 
he went & sett him before the Ladye. 
& when hee had taken his seate, 

684 hee tooke his kniffe & cut his meate. 2 
null litle att [supper] eates hee, 
soe much hee beholds this Mayden ffree ; 
hee thought shee were the fayrest Ladye 

688 that euer before hee did see. 

& when that they had supped all, 

the dwarffe brought watter into the hall ; 

the yode & washed euery one, 3 

692 & then to Chamber wold shee gone. 

" now trulye," sayes Degree, " & after I will 
to looke on this Ladye all my ffill." 
soe vpon the stayres the way hee nome, 4 

696 & soone into the Chamber hee come, 
the Lady that was ffayre and bright, 
vpon her bed shee sate downe right, 
& harped notes sweete and nine. 

700 her mayds Billed a peece 5 of wine ; 



[page 380] 



are written, in a Inter hand, the follow- 
ing lines : — 

I promised Silvia to he true, 
nay out of zeale I swore it tooe ; 
& that She might beleivc mo more, 
gave her in writeing what I swore. — 
nor vowes nor oathes can lovers hind ; 
Soe long as pleased, soe long are kindc. — 
it was on a leafe : the wind hut blew ; 
away both leafe & promise flew. 

[a space, and then] I tell thee Char- 
miorn. — F. 

1 Qere tho ordinary handwriting of 
the MS. begins again. — F. 

2 Kemenilicr that forks were a luxury 
not then introduced. Assume thai I tegree 
had washed his hands, and then he'd 



have fulfilled the requirements of Trac- 

tus Urbanitatis : 

To be mete when bou art sette, 
Fayre & honestly thow ete hyt: 
Fyrst loke b«t by handes be elene, 
And brtt by knyf be sharpe & kene, 
And cutte by breed & alle by mote 
Ryjth euen as bou doste hit ete. 

Babees Boke &c. p. 14, 1. 39-44. 
8 See the laying of the sum ape, or towel 

for the lord to wash with, described in 

Russell, p. 132 of Babees Boke &c, and 

the washing at p. 323.— F. 
■' nome, took. — P. 
5 cup. See " Ffor to serve a Lord" in 

Babees Boke, and Ladye Bessiye. — F. 



SIR DEGREE. 



43 



& then S/r Degree sett him downe 

ffor to heare the harpe sound ; 

& through the notes of the harp shrill 

704 he layd him downe and slept his mil. 
that ffaire Lady that ilke night 
shee bade couer 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, "S/r Knight, arise and wake ! 
& then shee sayd all in game, 
"you are worthy e ffor to haue blame ! 
ffor like a beast all night you did sleepe ; 

71 G & of my mayds you tooke no keepe." 
& then bespake S/r 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 hcnd, 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 your liffe, 
& why you [have] soe 4 manye women 

728 alone with-out 5 any men." 

" S/r," slice sayd, " I wold you tell 
& if you wold amend itt well, 
my ffather was a bold Barron, 

732 & holden Lord ouer tower & towne, 
& hee had neuer child but mee, 
& I am heyre hecre 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 



tli at she is 
her father's 

heiress, 



1 of tliy harpe it made, i.e. caused it, 
Sc. my sleepiness. — P. 

2 hend, gentle. Gl. Chau. — P. 



3 wend, go. — P. 

4 you | have] so. p. c. 

5 wiihouten. — P. 



44 



SIR DEGREE. 



and has had 

many 

suitors, 



but a giant 
who wants 
her 



has killed 
'ein 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 liath woed [me] many a TLwight 
736 & many a Squier well clight ' ; 

but there then woones there beside 
a stout Gyant, & hee is ffull of pryde, 
& hee hath me desired long and yore 2 ; 
740 & him to loue I can neuer more ; 

& hee hath slaine my men eche one, 
all sauing 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 " O Leaue Dame ! " then sayes hee, 
" be not adread while I am here ; 
ffor I will helpe thee to my power. 4 ' : 
"Sir," shee sayes, " all my Lands 
752 I doe itt ceaze into jour hands, 
& all my goods I will thee giue, 
& alsoe my body while I doe Hue, 5 
& ffor to bee att yowr owne will 
756 earlye, late, lowde, and still, 

yea and jour Leman ffor to bee, 
to wreake 6 mee vpon my enemye." 
then was S/r Degree ffaine 7 to ffight 
7 GO to defend this Ladye in her wright, 
& ffor to sloe the other Knight 
& winne the Ladye that was soe bright. 
& as the stood talking in ffeere, 8 
764 her damsells came with a heauy chcere, 
& bade " draw the bridge hastilye ; 
for yonder comes jour enemye ; 
w/thout you itt draw soone, anon 
768 hee will destroye vs euerye one.'' 



[page 381] 



1 drek'd, dressed.— P. 
8 bofore, formerly. — P. 

3 nome, took. — P. 

4 P. has added an c at the end. 



-F. 



5 Tins line is partly pared away- 

6 revenge. — P. 

7 glad.— P. 

8 together. — P. 



SIR DEGREE. 



45 



[The Fifth Part.] 



5 a . parte< 



776 



780 



784 



'88 



;:»j. 



796 



[How Sir Degree kills the Giant, fights and finds his Father, and marries his Love. | 

"Sir Degree hee start vp anon Degree 

& thought to make him readye soone, 
& out of a window liee him see ; 
then to his horsse ffull soone did hye. 
soe stout a man as hee was one, 
in armor say l shee neuer none. 

then Sir Degree rode fforth aniaine rides forth. 

ffor to ryde this Gyant againe : 
The smote together hard in soothe The giant 

. charges him, 

that Sir Degrees horsse backe brake in 2. and breaks 

his horse's 

" thou hast," say es Sir Degree, "slaine my goodsteede, back in two. 

but I hope Isl quitt well thy meede ! 

to sloe thy steed nought I will, 

but flight w/th thee all my flill." 

then they ffoughten on ffoote in ffeere 

w/th hard strokes vpon helmetts Cleere. 

the Gyant hee gaue Sir Degree 

huge strokes that were great plentye, 

and Sir Degree did him alsoe 

till his kelmett & basenett 2 were burst in 2. 

the Gyant hee was agreeued sore 

because he had of his blood ffbrlore, 3 

& such a stroke he gaue Sir Degree thoc 

that to the ground he made him goe. 

Sir Degree recouered anon-right, 

& such a stroke hee gaue that Knight, 

& vpon the crowne soe hee itt sett, 

I hut througe his holme and basenett 



Then they 
fight 
on foot, 



giving one 
another 
huge 
strokes. 



The giant 



fells Degree ; 



hill lie 

recovers 

himself, 



SOU 



he made his sword to goe through his head, 
& then the gyant ffell downe dead. 
this Ladye lay in her castle, 
& shee saw the whole battell, 



and kills 
the giant. 



The lady is 
as glad as 



' saw. — P. 



' 2 head-piece. — P. 



» lost.— P. 



46 



SIR DEGREE. 



the birds of 

daylight, 



thanks 
Degree, 



kisses liim 
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, 

& vnarmed 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 gine, 
812 & my bodye the whilest I Hue, 

& ffor to bee att jour owne will 

ear lye, late, lowd, and still." 

he sayd, " Madam, godamercye 
8 1 6 ffor all the ffavour yon hane granted mee ! 

but I must into ffarr countiyee, 

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 departinge. 

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] Knight 2 
828 That well was armed, & on his horsse dight [page 3Si>] 

in armour that wold well endure, 

with ffine gold and rich azure, 

& 3 bores heads where thcrin, 
832 the w7w'ch were of gold fline ; — 

itt might well bee his owne, soones ffcll, 3 

ffor once hee woone them in battcll ; — 



1 gone, past. — P. 

2 MS. cut away.— F. pricking a K\ —P. 



3 sa?is faile, without fail. Sec 1.841. 
-F. 



SIR DEGREE. 



47 



& he sayd, " villaine ! what doest thou here 
836 within my fforrest to sloe my deere ? " 

Si'r Degree answered him w<'th words meeke, 
& sayes, " of thy deere I take noe keepe, 
but I am an aduenturous 'Knight, 
840 & I am goinge to seeke warr & flight." 
his ffather answered & sayd sans ffell, 
" if thou be come flbr to seeke battell, 
buske 1 thee shortlye in a stonde, 
844 flbr thy fiellow thou hast flbunde." 

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 bacckes brake bothe ; 
& then they ffbught on ffoote in fere 
852 with hard strokes vpon 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 ? " 
" St'r," hee sayd, " in England. 
a Kings daughter is my mother ; 
860 but I cannott tell who is my ffather. 
" what is thy name ? " then sayes hee. 
" Sir, my name is Degree.'" 
" St'r Degree, thou art right welcome ! 
864 ffbr 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 



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 \ on 
by your 
Bword." 

Be I'ns the 
point on to 
it, 



1 prepare. — P. 

2 A pocket or pouch. 



Sec Boy $ 



Mantle, vol. ii. p. 305, 1. 21.— F. 
■ ? MS. looc.--F. to.— P. •' 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 
with his owne ffather trulye. 
vntill they niight England see, 

576 they drew thither as they wold bee ; 

& when they to the ISLmgB palace were come, 

they were welcome w^'th all and some. 

& there they Ladye spyed them ouer a Avail, 

880 & to them shee began to call, 

& shee sayd, " my deere sonne, S/r Degree, 
thon hast thy ffather brought with thee ! " 
" now thankes be to god ! " sayd the Kinge, 

884 " ffor now I know with-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 conntrye. 
& then went fforth S/r degree, 

892 & soe did the Kmg & all his meanye ; 
vnto the castle the roden in ffere — 
w/th a companye right ffayre — 
where dwelled this l Ladye bright 

896 w7wch before he wan in ffight. 

& 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 vs all well to ffare I 

ililis. 
1 that.— P. 



[" Iaa May Morning " and " The Turke vn Tmien" printed in L. & Hum. 
Songs, p. 7A-79, follow here, and take wp p. 383 of the MS.] 



49 



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 PIoav- 
man, and I should infer from the line, 

& bade them barre bigglye • Belzebub his gates, 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 k ' Death and Liffe " with one of the latest 
pieces of alliterative verse known, viz., the " Scotish ffeilde " (see 
vol. i. p. 1 99 of the present work), we see a remarkable similarity 

1 2 fitts. Two of these short Lines are Langland's Vision of whom this poem is 

properly but one.— P. The Anglo-Saxon imitated. Ami as tin- stop helps tho 

alliterative poems are usually written as reader by marking the pause in each Line, 

prose with frequenl dots, and printed il has been carried on through the lines 

commonly in short lines; the Early Eng- which are written lung in the MS. and 

li h ones in long lines. The lines of the without pause-marks. — F. 

present poem in the Folio MS. are written -This Introduction is by the Rev. 

short to I. 87 of the text. They are hero W. W. Skeat K. 

printed long, with an inverted full Btop '■' See Whitaker's edition of Piers Plovi- 

ai the break between them, after Mr. »ia»,p. 354. The passage about "barre 

Bkeat's plan in his Piers Plowman, from we |>e jatos" is not in Wright's edition. 

VOL. III. E 



50 DEATH AND LIFFE. 

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 iveld (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 tmrnisht blade ■ all bloody leronen (1. 172), 
is explained by 

till all bis bright armour ■ was all blovdye bercnen (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 swires and swapped. And 
we find the word sweeres, accordingly, in D. & L. 1. 54. As 
another instance, take D. & L. 1. 407 : 

he cast a light on the Land ■ as beanies on the sunn. 

Here on is obviously an error for of; and it at once occurred to 
me that beanies 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 over. 

Once more, we find, in D. & L. 1. 185, 

botli enuye & anger ■ in their yerne weeds. 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 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., 
" 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 pails. 
I shall show presently that the author of " Death and Liffe " was 
familiar with "Piers Plowman," and it is equally certain that the 
author of " Scotish ffeilde " w 7 as so too. Compare S. F. 1. 106, 

& profor him a present ' all of pure gold, 

with the original line as it stands in " Piers Plowman," 

And profrede Pees a present • al of pure 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 ; " ! 
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 ; 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,' and the * ugly fiend 
Dame Death;' who, with their several attributes and concomi- 
tants, 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 Ri liqu is, rol. ii. p. '■'•o:i (.5ili ed.) sent work. 

- See vol. i. p. 199, note, of the | re- ;1 Reliques, rol. ii. p. 304. 

]■: '1 



52 DEATH AND LIFFE. 

repulsive, terrifying, unsparing, with sorrow and sickness in her 
train. 

The picture of Lady Life as she comes " 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 cche one 

they lowted to that Ladye ■ & layd forth their branches ; 

blossomes & burgens ■ breathed full sweete, 

fflowers fflourished in the frith ■ where shee fforth stepedd, 

cf- the grass that was gray ' greened beliue ; 

breme birds on the boughos ■ busilye did singe, 

§■ all the wild in the wood • whilye the ioyed. (1. G9-75.) 

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 ioot, sprig, &c. : e.g. "As 



white as is tho blossom on the Rise." 
Mi. G. 216: "As white us Lillie or 
Rose on the rise." It. It. 1015. Jun. 
— P. Ger. reis, a twig. Skeat. 

7 A.S. hlutan, incurvare &c. .Tun. — P. 

s burgen, burgeon, the same as bud. 
Jun.— P. 

;| i.e Knights. Thus in "King Richard 
F''s Song (Qu. printed in Eor. Walpole's 
royl Authors. St. (!. U bachaliers qi son 
legiere sain doubtless means Knights. 
See also many other places in this col- 
li .t i' m. I'. See Gloss, to Lkik- h>t. Sk. 

"' i.e. children, human creatures. — P. 

11 lovely Lady. Vid. 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. 



that was comelye cladd ' in kirtle & Mantle 

84 of goodlyest greene ■ that euer groome l ware, 
for the kind 2 of that cloth * can noe clarke tell ; 

& shee the most gracyous groome ' that on the ground 

longed ; 
of her druryes 3 to deeme * to dull be my Avitts, 

85 & the price of her [perrie 4 ] ■ can no P[erson] 5 tell ; 
& the colour 6 of her kirtle ' was caruen ffull lowe, 
that her hlisfull breastes " bearnes might 7 behold, 
with, a naked necke ' that neighed 8 her till, 

92 that gaue light on the Land ■ as beames of the sunn, 
all the Kmgs christened ■ with their cleere gold 
might not buy that ilke broche 9 ' that buckeled her 

mantle, 
& the crowne on her head ' was caruen in heauen, 

96 w/th a scepter sett in her hand ■ of selcoth 10 gemmes : 
thus louelye to looke vpon ■ on Land shee abydeth. 
merry were the Meanye u " of men that shee had, 
bly th bearnes of blee ' bright as the sunn : 

100 Sir Comfort, that Knight ' when the court dineth, 
S/r Hope & S/r Hind " yee 12 sturdy e beene both, 
Sir Liffe & S/r Likinge ■ & Sir Loue alsoe, 
Sir Cunninge 13 & S/r Curtesye ' that curteous were of 
deeds, 

104 & Sir Honor ouer all " vnder her seluen. 

a stout man & a staleworth 14 ■ her steward I-wisse. 



1 groome, puer, famulus, also a young 
man, see Johnson, from Fairfax: "in- 
treat this groom & silly Maid." — here it 
is used equivalent to homo, m. & f. — P. 

2 Qu. kind : if knid, perhaps from 
knitt.—P. 

3 Drurie, chaueero denotat amicitiam, 
amorem. Lye. Scot, gifts, presents, 
love-tokens. Gloss, ad G. D. — P. 

4 In this line a word is missing. It 
is surely the word jierric, precious stones, 
never missed in describing ladies: see 
P. VI. ed. Wright, p. 511, note to 1. 901. 

— Skeal. 



5 Person. — P. 

6 Qu. Collar, or y e Part round the 
neck. See Johnson. — P. 

' nnight MS.-F. 

8 neighed them till. Qu. — P. 

9 i.e. an ornament, jewel, clasp. 
—P. 

10 i.e. rarus. Lye. — P. 

11 familia, multitude. Lye. — P. 

12 that or who. Qu.— P. 
1:1 One stroke too few in the MS.- 
" i.e. fortis, stout, lusty, strong. 

—P. 



Jun. 



-F. 
Lye. 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 



01 



sb.ee had Ladyes of loue " longed her about : 
Dame mirth, & Dame Meekenes ' & Dame Mercy the 
hynd, 1 
108 dallyance & disport ■ 2 damsells ffull 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, — 
112 both of 2 birds & beastes ' & bearnes in the leaues ; 
& 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 
thought ; 
116 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 ■ Sir Comfort the good, 6 
kneeling low on my knees ■ curteouslye him praysed. 
120 I willed him of his worshipp ■ to witt 7 me the sooth 8 
of yonder h&dye of loue ' & of her royall meanye. 
hee cherished me cheerlye ■ by cheeke & by chin, 
& sayd, "ccrtes my sonne ■ the sooth thou shalt 
knowe. 
124 this is my Lady dame Line " that leadeth vs all, 
slice is worthy & wise * the welder of Ioye, 
greatlye gouerneth the ground ' & the greene grasse, 
Bhee hath ffostered & fled thee ■ sith thou was ffirst 
borne, 
128 &yettbeffore thou wast borne ' shee bred in thy hart, 
thou art welcome, I-wisse ' vnto my winn Ladye. 
If tlii.i i wilt wonders witt ' fcare not to ffraine, 9 



Her ladies 
were, 

Mirth, 

Mercy, 



and Disport; 



and about 
her was 
song of men, 

of birds 
and beasts. 



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, 



who has 
kept you 
from your 
birth. 



Ymi are 
well nine to 
her." 



1 Hine, villicus, A.S. hine, serrus, 
domesticus. Lye. perhaps hend. — P. 
Certainly hynd, hend, gentle. Skeat. 

'-' of, delend. P. of=by, and is re- 
quired by the verb made in I. 110. — Sk. 

;| faine, hilar is, glad. Lye.- P. 

4 i.e. then. P. 

6 here, A.S. Cerran, cyrran, vertere. 



I,Vr. I'. 

■prayed, (hi.— I'. Lines 117-19 are 
written as fcnir in the MS. — F. 

7 witt, scire, hie est, facere notum. — P. 
See ken, I. L31.- 1'. 

8 sooth, varus, Veritas. Jun. I'. 

!l frayne, interrogare. Jun. to ask, 
desire. Gloss. G. D.— P. 



62 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 



blowing a 
burly blast, 



and an 
ugly ghost 
appeared, 



with a gold 
crown, 



136 



I thought 
I would be 
hers for 
ever, 



and our 
joy lasted 
till an hour 
after noon. 



But by two 140 



a horn \vn~-, 
heard from 
the North, 



& I shall kindlye thee ken T ' cave thou noe more." 
132 then I was fearfull enoughe • & ffaythfrullye thought 
' that I shold long with, dame liffe ■ & loue her for euer, 
there shall no man vpon mold " my mind from her take 
for all the glitteringe gold ' vnder the god of heanen.' 
thus in liking this lininge * the Longed 2 the more 
till that itt neighed neere noone ' & one hower after 
there was rydinge & revell " that ronge in the hankes 
all the world was full woe ' winne to 3 behold, 
or itt turned from 12 • till 2 of the clocke, 
much of this melody e " was maymed & marde: 
In a nooke of the north ■ there was a noyse hard, 
as itt had beene a home ' the highest of others, 
w/th the biggest bere 4 ' that euer bearne wist ; 
& the burlyest 5 blast ■ that euer blowne was, 
throughe the rattlinge rout * runge ouer the ffeelds. 
the ground g'ogled 6 for greeffe " of that grim dame ; 
I went nere out of my witt ' for wayling care ; 
yett I bode on the bent * & boldly e looked, 
once againe into the north ■ mine eye then I cast. 
I there saw a sight ■ was sorrowfull to behold. 
152 one of the A^glyest 7 ghosts ' that on the earth gone, 
there was no man of this sight ' but hee was affrayd, 
soe grislye & great ' & grim to behold. 
& a quintfull 8 queene 9 ■ came quakinge before, 
wi'thacarued crowneonher head ■ all of pure gold, [p.387] 
& shee the ffoulcst ffreake 10 ' that formed was euer 



144 



148 



156 



1 ken, scire, perspicere, wtelligrre. Jim. 
here it signifies (transitively) to shew, 
make known, inform. See Witt, ver. 1-0. 
—P. 

2 abode. MS. Longer. — F. 

3 Avinn, Woe to. Qu. — P. The word 
woe is the difficulty : may it be A.-S. wo, 
wok, in the original sense of bent, in- 
clined? Or rather, it's put for wo\d'\e = 
mad. Wi tine is joy, pleasure. — Sk. 

* here, fremere, fremitus, rearing, 
raging noise. Lye. — P. 



5 burly, great of stature or size, bulky, 
corpulent. Johns. — P. 

6 joggled, wagged, shook. — Sk. 

7 most fright-causing. — F. 

9 quaintfnl, quaint, neat, exact, nice, 
having a petty elegance. X.ih Qi'aint 
is in Spencer quailed, depressed. John- 
son. — P. 

9 Sc. Pride, compare this with Line 
183.— P. 

10 freke, homo, a hunr.n creature. 
Lye.-P. 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 



G3 



both of bide & bew ' & bcarc l alsoe. 
sbee was naked as my nayle ' botb aboue & belowe, 
160 sbee was lapped about ' in Linenn breecbcs. 

a more fearffull face " no freake migbt behold ; 
for sbee was long, & leane ■ & lodlye 2 to see ; 
there was noe man on the mold " soe mightye of 
strengbt, 
164 but a looke of that Lady " & his lilfe passed. 

his 3 eyes farden 4 as the fyer ■ that in the furnace 

burnes ; 
they were hollow in her head ■ with, full beauye 

browes; 
her cheekes were leane ' with lipps full side, 5 
168 with a maruelous mouth • full of long tushes, 
& the nebb 6 of her nose * to her navell hanged, 
& her lere 7 like tlr% lead • that latelye was beaten, 
sbee bare in her right hand ■ & 8 vnrid 9 weapon, 
172 a bright burnisbt blade ' all bloody beronen, 10 
& in the left hand " like the legg of a grype, 11 
with the talents that were touchinge ' & teenfull 12 

enoughe. 
w/'th that sbee burnisbt vp her brand ' & bradd 13 out 
her geere ; 
17G & I for feare of that freake ' ffell in a swond. 
had not Sir Comfort come ' & my care stinted, 
I had bcenc slainc with that sight ■ of that sorrowfull 
bin lye. 



and naked. 



I Tor face 
was fearful 
to see. 

Death was 
in her look. 



Her eyes 
flamed like 
fire. 



Her nose 

hung down 

to her 

navel. 

In her right 

hand was a 

bloody 

sword, 

in her left 

a vulture's 

talons. 



I swooned, 

but Sir 
Comfort 



1 hair. P. 

- Lodly or ledlye, [si. leidur. Tin-pis 
sordidus, A.1. leid, abominabilis. M' Lye 
MS. P. Loathly, Cf. 1. 303.— Sk. 

a Her. -P. 

4 i.e. fared, passed, went, were— p. 

5 side, longus, prolixus. Lye. — P. 

8 nebbe, rostrum, AS. vultus, item 

is. Jun. — P. 
; Lere, l.\ re, < !aro. Lye. Item, com- 

ion, G loss, ad G. D, P. 
s an, V. 
1 unricl, perhaps the same as tint 



in G. Doug! ; rude, hideous, horrible. 
Gloss, ad G. P.— P. The root seems to 
be the A.-S. r&SeoT kri%e, cruel, tin-re. 
The prefix may be the A.-S. an- or on-. 
— Sk. 

10 Forti beronen or berunen, vid. p. 
3G7, St. is [of MS.]. P. be-jun, run 
over witli.— Sk. 

" i.e. Griffin.— P. 

'- teen, est injuria, vexatho. Jun. Sor- 
row, grief. Johnson. — P. 

1:1 braid, brade, vet. expergrfaccre, au- 
ft rre, ednc re. 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, 



180 



184 



188 



192 



196 



200 



204 



then he lowtecl to me low ■ & learned rne well, 
sayd, " be thon not abashed ■ but abyde there a while ; 
here may thou sitt & see " selcothes l ffull manye. 
yonder damsell is death " that dresseth her to smyte. 
loe, pryde passeth before ' & the price beareth, 
many sorrowffull souldiers ' following her fast after : 
both enuye & anger ' in their yerne 2 weeds, 
morninge & mone ' Sir Mis[c]heefe his ffere, 3 
Sorrow & sicknesse ' & sikinge in hart ; 
all ///at were lothinge of their liffe * were lent 4 to her 

court, 
when shee draweth vp her darts ' & dresseth her to 

smite, 
there is no groome vnder god ' may garr her to stint, 
then I blushed 6 to that bearne ■ & balefullye looked : 
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, 
fowles faylen to fflce " when 9 the heard wapen, 
& the flashes in the fflood ■ ff'aylen to swimme 10 
fibr dread of dame death ■ that dolefully e threates. 
with that shee hyeth to the hill ■ & the heai'd ffindeth : 
in the roughest of the rout ' shee reacheth forth darts, 
there shee fell att the first fflappe ■ 1500 
of comelyes Queenes with crowne * & K.i/nga full noble, 
proud princes in the presse ' prestlye n slice quellethe ; 
of dukes that were doughtyc • shee dang out the 

braynes ; 



' i.e. rarities, vid. L. 96. — P. 

2 yerne, promptus, cupidus. L. — P. 

3 fere, socvus, vet. ang. L. — P. 

* led.— P. Qu. MS. letit, or a t crossed 

through for the first stroke of an n. — F. 
lent is short for loujid; thus were lent = 
abode, dwelt. Sec lent iu Halliwell, 
- Sk, 



5 vide Lin. 389.— P. 

6 she.— P. 

7 Compare this passage with the beau- 
tiful bit about Life, lines 69-75. — F. 

8 tip, leviter tangere. L. — P. 

9 wan. Query. — P. 

10 MS. swimne. — F. 

11 prest, paratus, statim. Lye. — P. 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 



()0 



merry maydens on the mold ' shee mightilye killetke ; 
there might no weapon them warrant " nor no walled 

towne. 
yonnge children in their craddle " they dolefullye dyen ; 

208 shee spareth fl'or no specyaltye ■ but spilleth the 
gainest l ; 
the more woe shee workcth ■ more mighty e shee 

seemeth. 
when my Lady dame liffe ■ looked on her deeds, 
& saw how dolefullye " shee dunge 2 downe her people, 

212 slice cast vp a crye ■ to the hye Kmg of heauen ; 
& he hearkneth itt hendlye ' in his hye throne, 
hee called on countenance " & hade his course take, 
" ryde thou to the reschew ' of yonder wrought 3 
Ladye. 

216 hee was bowne 4 att his bidd ' & bradd 5 on his way. 
t/nit wight, 6 as the wind ' that wappeth" in the skye, 
he ran out of the rainebow 8 ' through the ragged 

clowds, 
& light on the Land ■ where the Lords [lay] slaine. 

220 & vnto dolefull death ■ he dresses him to speake ; 

sayth : "thou wrathefull Queene ' that euer woe worketh, 
cease of thy sorrow " thy soueraigine com?»andeth, 
& let thy burnished blade " on the bent rest, 

224 that my Lady dame liffe ' her likinge may haue." 

then death glowed & gran ' for gryme 9 of her talke, 10 



merry 
maids, 



and babies 

too. 



Life then 



cried to 
God, 



and He sent 
Countenance 
to her rescue. 



Countenance 
rushes down 
like the 
wind, 



and bids 
Death 



cease her 
slaughter, 

that Life 
might have 
her way. 

Loath ' 



1 gain,t] • wngain, (aukward, 

clumsy) i.e. clever: bandy, ready, dex- 
trous. Johnson. — P. '-' dang. — P. 

3 wrought, Scot, wraik, to vex; Sax. 

■i, exulare ; wreccan persequi, ulcisci ; 
wrecca, miser, exul. Wrought perhaps is 
the sain, with the Scotch wrachit, i.e. 
wretched. — P. 

4 bown, paratus. L. — P. 

5 vid. 176 rer. P. 

8 wight, swift) nimble. Johnson. P. 
' wappeth, A.s. wappian, Fluctuare, 

[wapean, triijlmi, tn \\aver, MosworthJ, 

i> waxeth, see Saxon, written so 
in folio 106 "Saxon Harold," also ver. 



248 of this song. — P. See Waft in "Wedg- 
wood. Wappe is used in Maleore s 
Arthur of the lapping of the waves in 

tlie liil about Arthur's death, and Sir 

Bedevere. — Sk. 

H The W is made over a y in the M.S. 
V. 

9 Query foregrim, i.e. very grim: furc 
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. — P. 



VOL. in. 



66 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 



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, 



God's handi- 
work ? 



He blest 
them, 
bade them 
increase and 
multiply, 



but shee did as shee dained l ' durst sliee noe other ; 
shee pight the poynt of her sword ' in the plaine earth, 

228 & with a looke full layetk 2 ■ shee looked on the hills, 
then my Lady dame Liffe ' shee looketk full gay, 
kyreth 3 to countenance * & him comelye thankes, 
kissed kindlye that ~K.night ■ then carped 4 shee no 
more, 

232 but vnto dolefull death • shee dresseth her to speake, 
sayth : " thou woefull wretch ' weaknesse of care, 
bold birth 5 full of bale ' bringer of sorrowe, 
dame daughter of the devill ' death is thy name ; 

236 but if thy fare be thy 6 fairer ' the feend haue thy soule. 
couldest thou any cause fund " thou Kaitiffe wretch, 
That neither reason nor wright 7 • may raigne w/th 

thy name ? 
why kills thou the body ■ that neuer care rought 8 ? 

240 the grasse nor the greene trees ' greeued thee neuer, 
but come fibrth in their kinds ' christyans to helpe, 
with all beawtye & blisse ' that barne 9 might devise, 
but of my meanye thou marreth ' marveild I haue 

244 how thou dare doe them to death • eche day soe manye, 
& the handy worke of him ■ that heaueu weldeth ! 
how keepeth thou his comandements ' thou kaytiffe 

retch ! 
wheras banely 10 hee them blessed " & biddeth them 
thriue. 

248 waxe fforth in the Avord ' & worth u vnto manye, 



1 ordained, bade. — Sk. The context 
wants the meaning — " was told to." — F. 

- kith, loath, A.S. la* ; O. E. laid ; in- 
visus, molestus, odiosus, fastidiuni creans. 
Jun.— P. 

3 Kereth, ver. 118, qnem vide. — P. 
A.S. eyrrun, to turn. — F. 

' to carp, to talk. Scottish. Lin. 361, 
Gloss, to Etamsays Evergreen. Here it 
seems used forcomplained. Carpit, .spoke, 
talked, complained. Gloss, to G. Doug 8 . 
—P. 

5 Birth, hulk. . . burthen. Gloss, ad 



G. Doug.— P. 6 the.— Sk. 

' right. — P. 8 wrought. — Sk. 

MS. harme. The alliteration re- 
quires h ; and h is continually miswritten 
for h. It should be barne = bearne (1. 265). 
— Sk. 

10 hand)/, perhaps readily, from bane, 
p. 363, St. 28.— P. Bane, kind, courteous, 
friendly. Northern. This is Kennett's 
explanation of the word in MS. Langd, 
1033. JIalliwell. — F. 

11 worth, esse, fieri, A.S. worthan. Lye. 
—P. 



DEATH AND L1FFE. 



67 



& thou lett them of their leake 1 ' w/th thy lidder 2 

turnes ! 
but w/th wondering 3 & with 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 wary 8 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 liff'e * cease thou such wordes ! 
thou payneth thee with pratinge ' to pray me to cease. 
260 itt is reason & right ' that I may rent take 
thus to kill of the kind ' both 'Kings & 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 cormnandement ' of the hye Kmg 
of heauen, 
but the bearne itt brake ' that thou bred vp ffirst 
when Adam & Eue l0 ' of the earth were shapen, 
& were put into Paradice ' to play w/th their selues, 
268 & were brought into blisse ' bidd if the u wold. 

he warned 12 them nothing in the world ■ but a wretched 
branche 



and tliou 
puttest 
them to 
death. 



Stop, or 
you'll suffer 
for it 1" 



Death 
answers 



" It is right 
that I 
should kill 
some, 



for the 
first man 
broke God's 
commands 
in Paradise, 



1 Irak, vid. lin. 301.— P. A.-S. lac, 
play, sport. — F. 

2 lidder, slow, sluggish, lazy. Gloss. 
ad G. D. ; or perhaps as the Sax. ItSer, 
i.e. mains, Bordidus, servilis. — P. A.-S. 
li/&rc, lyier, bud, wicked. Bosworth. — 
P. 

8 Only half of the last n is in the MS. 
— F. 

* greedy, vid. L. 18.5. — P. eagerly. 
A.-S. georne.- F. waiteth is used for 
waitest; this agrees with tholcd for 



thok <dst in 1. 1.— Sk. 5 MS. then.— F. 
i.e. unless thou. — P. 

7 blinn, vet. A. cessare, desinere, dcsis- 
tere. Lye.— P. ? bine.— F. 

8 wary, Chauc. est detestari, execrari, 
vid. Junius. — P. 

9 ilrie, dricn, tolerare, pati. Sax. drco- 
yin. Lye. dre, to suffer, endure. Gloss, 
ad G. I), dye, qu.— P. 

10 There is a tag at the end like an r 
in tho MS.— F. 

" bide if they.— P. I2 forbade.— Sk. 



F 2 



68 



DEATH AISD LIFFE. 



when Eve 
plucked the 
apple. 

Then I, 
Death, gript 
my sword, 
and hit 
Adam and 
Eve and 
their off- 
spring. 



Leave me, 
Life I I hate 
thee and thy 
servants, 
and have no 
pleasure in 
their mirth. 



My gladdest 
game is to 
hew at thy 
joys." 



of the ffayutyest ffruit ■ that euer in ffrith grew; 

yett his bidding they brake ' as the booke recordeth. 
272 when Eue ffell to the ffruite ' wc'th fnngars white, 

& plucked them of the plant ■ & poysoned them both, 

I was fFaine of that ffray ■ my ffawchyon I gryped, 

& delt Adam such a dint ' that hee dolue euer after. 
276 Eue & her ofspring ■ I hitt them, I hope, 

for all the musters l that they made " I mett wt'th them 
once. 

therfore, liffe, thou me leaue ' I loue thee but a litle ; 

I hate thee & thy houshold - & thy hyndes 2 all ! 
280 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, 
284 there is no game vnder heauen ■ soe gladlye I wishe 

as to haue a slapp wt'th 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, 



r 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 : 
202 where ioy & gentlenesse ■ are ioyned 7 together 

betweene bis wight 8 & his wiffe ■ & his winne 9 children. 



1 musters 
— F 



Qu. — P. devices, tricks. 



- servants. — F. 

:i daintye, &e. I have no scruple, cere* 

Sec Johnson, Ad Verb 



3 d . sense. 



mony. See Johnson, Ad \ 
— P. daintye, delight.— F. 
* fear — frighten. So in Shakespeare: 



' Warwick was a bug, that feared us 
all.'— S. 

5 bremely, Vid. p. 246, St. 19, vid. p. 
388, lin. 360.— P. ? briefly.— F. 

G Q,u. vato, Scot. i.e. wott. — P. 

7 The i has an accent on it as if for c. 
— F. 8 a wight. — P. " pleasant. — F. 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 



69 



& when ffaith & ffellowshipp • are ffastened ffor aye, 
loue & charitye ■ which, our lord likethe, 

296 then thou waletb. l them with wracke • & wratkeffully 
beginneth ; 
vncurteouslyo thou cometh " vnknowne of them all, 
& lacheth 2 away the land ■ that the hord holdeth, 
or woryes his wiffe ' or waits 3 downe his children. 

300 mikle woe thus thou waketh ■ where mirth was before, 
this is a deed of the devill • death, thou vsest ; 
but if thou leaue not thy lake 4 " & learne thee a better, 
thou wilt lach 5 att the last ■ a lothelich 6 name." 

304 " doe away, damsell," quoth death ■ " I dread thee 
nought ! 
of my losse 7 that I losse 8 ■ lay thou noe thought ; 
thou prouet mee full prestlye ' of many proper thinge ; 
I haue not all kinds soe ill ■ as thou me vpbraydest ; 

308 where I wend on my way ■ the world will depart, 
bearnes wold be ouer bold " bales ffor to want, 
the 7 sinnes for to serue * & sett them full euer, 
& giue no glory ynto god ■ that sendeth vs all grace. 

312 if the dint of my dart ' deared 9 them neuer, 

to lett them worke all their will ' itt were litle Ioy. 
shold I for their fayrnesse ' their ffoolishnes allowe, 
my liffe (giue thou me leaue) ' noe Leed 10 vpon earth 

316 but I shall master his might • mauger his cheekes 
as a Conquerour keene ' biggest of other, 
to deale dolefull dints ' & doe as my list; 
for I fayled neuer in fight ■ hut I the ffeild wan 



thou 
destroyed t 



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 tib'ht. 



1 to wale, eligere, forte hie transitive 
pro 'to make to wail.' — P. waleth = 
afflictest. A.-S. tva/an, to afflict, rex. 
- 8k. 

- lach, latche. To bake, catch, Bnatch. 

A.-S. Iteccan, c prehendere, rapere. 

I'rry iii Chauc! — P. 

* A.-S. westtan, to roll, tumble. F. 

4 lake, Ludere. Lye. — I'. 

■ A..-S. lesccan, gelacean, to take, catch, 



seize. (See note 2 .) — F. 
6 i.e. loathsome. — P. 
' praise, fame. — F. 

8 lose.— P. 

9 Dere, Chauc est leedere, nocere. Lye. 
—P. 

10 Leed, leid, a Person (Scottish), 
Gloss, to Ramsay's Evergreen, hid, a 
man, from teod, Sax. Homo. Gloss, ad 
(i. I). —P. 



70 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 



I killed 

Adam, 

Methuselah, 

Joseph, 

Abraham, 

Saul, 

Jonathan, 

David, 

Solomon, 

Alexander, 



Arthur, 
Hector, 
Lancelot, 

Gallaway, 

and all the 
knights of 
the Round 
Table. 



I jousted 
with Jesus, 



320 si tli the ffirst ffroake ■ 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 derffe 4 
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 whom all 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 swire 6 " to swelt 7 him 
behoued. 

Arthur of England ■ & Hector the keene, 

both Lancelott & leonades ■ with other leeds manye, 
340 & Gallaway the good Kmght " & 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 ? 



1 seriously, composed, still. — P. 

2 Thou Life.— P. 

3 the.— P. 

4 See pag. 116, St. 39.— P. fierce, 
cruel. — F. 

3 Saul. lege.—?. 



6 swire, swira, swir-ban, collum, cervix. 
—P. 

7 Swelt, S. sweltan, obixe, languescere. 
Swelt, to be choaked, suffocated, die. 
Gloss, ad G. D.— P. 

8 heude, as in 1. 107.- Sk. 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 71 

he was frayd of my mice * in ffreshest of time. 

yett I knocked him on the crosse ' & carued l throughe and pierced 

his heart." 

his hart." 
348 & with that shee cast of her crowne ' & kneeled downe At Christ's 

. name all 

lOWe kneel. 

when shee minned 2 the name ' of that noble prince ; 

soe did liffe vpon land ' & her leeds all 

both of heauen and of earth ■ & of hell ffeends, 
352 all tbey lowted downe lowe ' their Jjord to honor. 

then liffe kneeled on her knees ' with her crowne in Life 
her hand, 

& looketh vp a long while ' towards the hye heauen ; 

shee riseth vpp rudlye 3 ' & dresseth her to speake, 
356 shee calleth to ber companye ' & biddeth them 4 come then can* 

her company 

neere, to her, 

both ~K.ings and Queenes " & comelye dukes: 
" woi'ke wiselye by jour witts ' my words to heare 
that I speake ffor jour speed " & spare itt noe longer." 5 
360 then shee tumeth to them ' & talketh these words, ? ( n J* sa y s '■ 

" Death, thy 

shee sayth 6 : " dame death, of thy deeds ' now is thy witl f\- e 

doome shapen T^iL. 

through thy wittles words ' that thou hast carped, 
w7n'ch thou makest with thy mouth ■ & mightylye 
avowes. 7 
364 tbou hast blowen thy blast ' breemlye 8 abroade J h01 J hasfc 

J J boasted 

how hast thou wasted this world ' sith wights were ^dersof 

first, 
euer murthercd & marde ' thou makes thy avant. 9 
of one point lett vs proue ' or 10 wee part in sunder : 

1 carve, secare, incidere, sculpcre. Jun. 5 The next two pages are borrowed 

See also Johnson : Sense 6 , . h — P. from P. PI. Passus xviii. — Sk. 

- mil/, i, mini/, to mention. Vid. Iun. 6 On these introductory words, see Mr. 

Lye. — P. The alliteration and sense Skeat's Kssay on Allit. Metre. — F. 

both show it should be nemned. nem is 7 avewest. — P. 

iniswrittcn miii. — Sk. * forte breemlye, breme, est atro.r, 

3 rude, is stiff, strong. It. forcible, ferox ; A. -Sax. hreman, f rem ere. Lye. 

vehement, apwd G. Douglas.— P. ? for 'vid. p. 216, St. 19, 388, 1. 283.— P. MS. 

radlye, A.-Sax. radlice, quickly, speedily. breenlye or breitlye. — F. 

— F. 1 thenn MS.— F. ° boast.— Sk. ' '» ere.— Sk, 



I J, 



PKATTf AM) LIFFE. 



of jousting 

with Jesus. 



But he 

conqui rc-.l 
then. 



Thou didst 
beat and 
buffet him, 
and wound 
him on the 
cross 



with a spear. 



But the 
glory of his 

( iu.liicad 

drove thee 
into Hell, 



where thou 
toldest 



368 how didest thou lust att Ierusalem ' with Iesumy lord, 
where thou deemed his deat[h] " in one dayes time ? 
there was thou shamed, & shent 1 ' & stripped ffbr aye ! 
when thou saw the Kmg come ' w/th 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 " w/th ffull red wounds. 
to all the woes that him wasted ■ I wott not ffew, 
tho deemedst to haue 3 beene dead ■ & dressed for 
euer. 
380 but, death, how didst thou then ' w/th all thy derffe 4 
words, 
when thou prickedst att his pappe ' w/th 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 the told 9 them tydands ■ that teened them sore, 



1 shend, akent, confundere dedecorare. 
Lye. P. 

2 railing, rails, apnd G. Dougl is, 
springe, gushes forth, runs, iEn. xi. 724, 
( 'rix.r \ l 'visa labuntur aibatht re plumes, 
which is thus rendered "al the blu.de ha- 
boundantly ftirtli ralis" and — the "licht 
downis up to the skyis glydis." rayled 
is ased by Chaucer in this Sense. — P. 

' J liim lo have. P, 



* Vid. P. 116 [of MS.]— P. 

5 big, Scotis est condeiv, sedificare. 
Lye.— P. 

6 to glent, to glance. Urry. In Chauc^ 
" Her eyin glent aside." Tr. & Cres. — 
P. 

' so we say "at first blush." See 
Johnson. — P. 

8 biggly, i.e. mightily. — P. 

9 thou 't oldest. -P. 



DKATTI AND I.IFFE. 



/.} 



392 how that King came ' to kithen ' his strenght, 

& how shee had beaten thee on thy bent " & thy brand 
taken, 

with euerlasting lifie " that longed 2 him till. 

then the sorrow was ffull sore ■ att Sathans hart ; 
396 hee threw ffeends in the ffycr ' many Sell thousands ; 

&, death, thou dange itt on ■ whilest thou dree 3 might ; 

for ffalte of thy ffawchyon " thou fought with, thy hand. 

host this neuer of thy red deeds ■ thou ravished bitche ! 
400 thou may shrinke for shame ' when the sooth heares. 

then I leapt to my lord ■ that caught me vpp soone, 

& all wounded as hee was ■ with, weapon in hand 

he fastened foote vpon earth ■ & ffollowed thee fifast 
404 till he came to the caue ■ that cursed was holden. 

he abode before Barathron ■ that bearne, while he 
liked, 

that was euer merke as midnight " with mour[n]inge 
& sorrowe ; 

he cast a light on the Land • as beames on 4 the sunn. 
403 then cryed that King • with a cleere steuen, 5 

" pull open jour ports ' you princes within ! 

here shall come in the King ' crowned with ioy, 

which is the hyest burne 6 ' in battell to smite." 
412 there was ffleringe 7 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 Kmg with his crosse " came in before. 
4lf. he leapt vnto Lucifer ■ that Lord himselfe, 

then he went to the tower ' where chaynes were manye, 



how Christ's 
everlasting 
Life had 
beaten thee. 



Eoast not, 
then, beaten 
bitch ! 



For Christ 
followed 
thee to Hell, 



and bade its 
princes open 
its gates 
and receive 
their King. 



The gates 

burst 

asunder. 

Christ bound 
Lucifer, 



1 Kytlio, to appear, Item, to make 
appear, to show, ab A.S. cySan, nan-arc, 
osb adere, cyie notitia, cy%ere martyr, 
testis. Gloss, ad G-. Doug. — P. 

- belonged. Sk. 

3 dree, Qu. P. rfree=endure, hold 
out. A. -Sax. dreogan. This is from 
Goth. <lriiigmi = serve a^ a soldier, fight, 



the very sense here, viz. to hold out in 
fighting. — Sk. 

1 of. — P. Should he lemes of. bcame 
is a stupid alteration for leme, and de- 
stroys the chief-letter. Sk. 

1 voice, sound. Lye. — P. 

Qu. barne. —P. 

7 ? flcinge. gaynest = quickest. — Sk. 



74 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 



& bound liini soc biglye " that hee for bale rored. 
death, tliou daredst l that day " & durst not be seene 
420 fibr all the glitering gold " vnder god himseluen. 

Then to the tower hee went * where chanes are many ; 
hee tooke Adam & Eue ■ out of the old world, 
Abraham & Isacc • & all that hee wold, 
424 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. 
428 then wee wenten fforth ■ winlye 2 together, 

& Left the dungeon of devills " & thee, death, in the 

middest. 
& now thou prickes ffor pride ■ praising thy seluen ! 
therfore bee not abashed ■ my barnes soe deere, 
432 of her ffauchyon soe ffeirce ' nor of her ffell words, 
shee hath noe might, nay no meane ' no more you to 

greeue, 
nor on jour comelye corsses ' to clapp once her hands. 
I shall looke you ffull liuelye ' & latche ffull well, 
436 & keere 3 yee ffurther of this kithe 4 ■ aboue the cleare 

skyes. 
If yee [loue] well 5 the Ladye " that light in 6 the mayden, 
& be christened with creame 7 * & in jouy creede 

beleeue, 

haue no doubt 8 of yonder death ■ my deare children ; 
and fear not 440 for yonder [death] is damned ' with devills to dwell, 
where is wondering, & woe ' & wayling ffor sorrow, 
death was damned that day " Daring ffull still, 
shee hath no might, nay no maine 9 ' to meddle with 

yonder ost, 



[page 390] 

rescued 
Adam and 
Eve, 

Abraham, 
Daniel, and 
many more. 



He freed me 
from death, 
and we went 
forth 
together, 
leaving thee, 
Death, in the 
dungeon of 
devils. 



My children, 
fear not then 
Death's 
sword. 



I shall lead 
you up to 
Heaven. 

Love Mary, 



be chris- 
tened, 



she cannot 
meddle with 
everlasting 
Life." 



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. 

- A.-S. wynlice, joyously. — F. 

3 turn?— Sk. 

4 A.-S. cifi, a region ; cy%%e, a home, 
Dative country. — F. 

'•" ye serve well, or love. Qu. — P. 



6 hight is. Qu— P. 

7 chreame, Gr. XP'CA" 1 - gallice ehresme, 
oleum sacratum quo in Bapl™ utebantur. 
Lye.— P. 

8 fear.— Sk. 

9 maine, S. mepyi, rohur, vis. Nescio 
an Might respiciat animi, Main, vim 
corporis. Lye. — P. 



DEATH AND LIFFE. 



75 



444 against euerlasting liffe ' that Ladye soe true." 
then my Lady dame liffe ' with Lookes soe gay, 
that was comelye cladd ■ with christall x and Mantle, 
all the dead on the ground ■ doughtilye 2 shee rayseth 
448 fairer by 2 ffold ■ then they before were. 

with that sheehyeth ouer the hills ■ with hundreds ffull 

manye. 3 
I -wold haue ffollowed on that faire 4 ■ but no further I 

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 ; 
there dreamed I the dreame * vrhick dread all be- 

frighted. 
but hee that rent all was 6 on the rood ' riche 7 itt him- 
seluen, 
456 & bring ts to his blisse ' with blessings enowe ! 
therto Iesu of Ierusalem ' grant vs thy grace, 
& saue there our howse ■ holy for euer ! Amen ! 

ffillS. 



Then Life 
raised the 
dead, 



and hied 
away with 
hundreds. 

I tried to 
follow, 



but awoke. 

Such was 
my dream. 



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 dcughty, strenuus, impavidus, ani- 
■mosus. Jun. — P. 

8 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 



4 fair thing, Scil* —P. 

6 Only one stroke for the second n in 
the MS.— F. 

6 was cdl rent, Qu. — P. all is de trop. 
— Sk. 

' ? rule, control. A.-S. ricsian. Or 
riche = rithe, rihte, set right.- -Sk. 



76 



Sfoam : 33dl : CItme of tfte Clause] 8c 
OTi'Utam : off Cloufctsrtee x 1 

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 
Ritson 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 pub- 
lished by Copland has been recovered by Mr. Payne Collier. 



It's merry to 
hunt in the 
green forest. 



[The First Part.] 

[How ' Cloudeslee is tane and damned to death.'] 

MERRYE : itt was in the greene fforrest 

amonge the leaues greene, 
wheras men hunt East & west 
4 with bowes & arrowes keene, 



And I'll 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 
Clovvdcslee, 



the one of them hight Adam Bell, 
another Clymm of the Cloughe, 
the 3? was yvilliam of Clowdeslee, 
12 an archer good enoughe. 



1 In 3 Parts. N.B. This is in print in Old Black Letter. Some corrections may 
be had from this. — P. 



ADAM liELL, ETC. 



77 



16 



they were outlawed for venison, 
these yeomen eueryeche one ; 
they swore then 1 brethren on a clay 
to English wood for to gone. 



now lithe 2 & listen, gentlemen 
that of mirth loueth to heare ! 
2 of them were single men, 
20 the o a . had a weded ffere. 3 



outlawed for 
taking 



will/am 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 11 go to 
Carlisle 



there to speake wt'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 yowr liffe is att an end." 

" 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." 



that he'll 
be taken. 



hee tookc his leaue of his brethren 2, 

& to Carlile hee is gone ; 
there he knocked att his owne windowe 
40 shortly e and anon. 



William 

goes to his 
home, 

knocks for 



1 them. Beliques (collated only now 
and then). — F. 

2 lithe, attend, hearken, listen. Lye. 
—P. 



3 fere, companion. Iun. — P. 

4 One stroke too many in the MS.— F. 
■ s ye. -IM. 

6 MS. priiie F. 



78 

his wife, 



ami tells her 
to let him in. 



ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE, 

"where be you, ffayre Allice ? " he sayd, 

" my wiffe, and children three ? 
lightlye lett in thy owne husband, 
44 William of Clowdeslee." 



She says 



the place 
is watched. 



" alas ! " then sayd ffaire Allice, 

and sighed verry sore, 
" This place hath beene beset for you 
48 this halfe a yeere & more." 



[page 391] 



" Let me in, 
and give me 
food." 



" now am I heere," said Clowdeslee, 

" I wold that in I were ; 
now ffeitch vis 1 meate & drinke enoughe, 
52 & lett vs make good cheere." 



she does so. shee ffeitcht him meate & drinke plentye, 

like a true weded wiffe ; 
& pleased him with that shee had, 
56 whom shee loued as her liffe. 



An old 

woman 
kept 7 years 
by William's 
charity 



there lay an old wiffe in the place, 

a litle before 2 the ffyer, 
■which wilh'am had found of charytye 
60 more then seauen yeere. 



goes to 



the Justice, 



and tells him 

Clowdeslee 
is at home. 



vp shee rose, & forth shee goes, — 

Euill mote shee speede therfore ! — ■ 
for shee had sett 3 no ffoote on ground 
64 not 7 yeere before. 

shee went into the Iustice hall 

as ffast as shee cold hye : 
" this night," shee sayd, " is come to towne 
68 William of Clowdeslee." 



1 ? MS. for vus, or vs, us. — F. 
* besyde. — Bel. 



3 One stroke too many in the MS. — F. 



76 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 

therof the Iustice was full faine, 1 

soe was the Sherriffe alsoe ; 
" thou shalt not trauell hither, dame, for nought ; 

M 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, 
& couched her downe againe. 



79 

He is glad, 



and gives her 
a scarlet 
gown. 



they raysed the towne of Merry Carlilc 

in all they hast they can, 
& came thronging to wtlKams house 
80 as fast as they might gone ; 



Then he 
raises 
the town, 



there they besett the good yeaman 

about on euerye syde. 
william heard great noyse of the flfolkes 
84 that thitherward fast hyed. 



and 

surrounds 
William's 
house. 



Alice opened a backe windowe, 

& looked all about : 
shoe was ware of the Iustice & Sherr[i]ffe both, 

& with them 3 a ffull great rout. 



William's 
wife Alice 



sees them, 



" A llice, 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. 



and sends 
William into 
her room. 



1 glad.— P. 

2 Of scarlate, and ofgraine, — Eel. 



3 One stroke too many in the MS. — F. 
1 Alas.— Bel. 



80 



ADAM UELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE, 



She seizes 
a poleaxe. 



William 
shouts 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 



t lie Justice 
to spare 

them. 



ffayre Allice, like a louer true, 
tooke a Pollaxe in her hand ; 
said, "liee 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 sniote 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 councell[e]th soe ! " 

"sett {Bre on the house," said the shirriffe, 

" sith itt will nt»e better bee ; 
& burne wee there william," he sayth, 
116 " his wiffe & his Children 3." 

the ffyred the house in many a place, 

the ffyer ffledd on hye ! : 
" alas ! " then said ffayre Allice, 
120 "I see here wee shall dye." 

will/am 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 William, 

" my wiffe & Children 3 ; 
for gods loue doe them noe hareme, 
128 but wrcake you all on mee ! " 



And burnt the old woman and her Scarlett gowne, 1 hope. — F. 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 



81 



132 



"Will/am sliott soe wonderous well 
Till his arrowes were all agoe, 

& ffire soe ffast about him ffell 

that his bow string burnt in towe. 



[page 392] 



He shoots 
on, 



the sparkles brent & fell vpon 
good william of Clowdcslee ; 

but then was hee a wofull man, & sayd 
" this is a cowards death to me ! 



but the fire 
gains on 
him, 



" leever had I," said will/rtm, 

" w/th my sword in the rout to runn, 
then here amonge my enemyes wood l 
140 soe cruellye to burne." 



and he 
resolves 
to cut his 
way 

through his 
foes. 



he tooke his sword & his buckeler then, 

& amongst them all hee ran : 
where the people thickest were, 
144 he smote downe many a man ; 

there might no man abide his stroakes, 

soe ffeircleye on them hee rann. 
then the threw windowes & dores att him, 
148 & then the tooke that yeoman. 



He rushes 
out, 



and kills 
many, 



but is taken, 



152 



there they bound him hand & ffoote, 
& in a deepe dungeon 2 him cast. 

"now Clowdeslee," sayd the Justice, 
" thou shalt be hanged in hast." 



and east into 
a dungeon. 



"one vow shall I make,'' sayd the Shirriffe, 

"a paire of new gallowi s shall I fibr thee make ; 3 \[\ 
& all the gates of Carlile shalbe slmtt ; 
156 there shall aoe man come in theratt. 



The SherifE 
promises 

in a 
pair of new 

gallows. 



1 i.e furious. — P. 

- < )nc Btroke too few for i n in the MS. 



3 A payr of now gallowes, sayd the 
sherife, 
Now shall I for the make. Eel. 



VOL. in. 



82 



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, 



and the new 
gallows set 
up. 



A little boy 
(who is 
Clowdeslee's 
swineherd) 
sees them, 



Erlye in the morninge ' the Iustice arose ; 

to the gates ffast can hee gone, 
& commanded to shutt close 
164 lightlye euery-eche one. 

then went hee to the markett place 

as ffast as hee cold hye ; 
there he new a paire of gallowes he sett vpp 2 
168 hard by the pillorye. 

a litle boy stood them amonge, 

& asked what meant that gallow tree, 
the said, "to hang a good yeoman 
172 called william of Clowdeslee." 



176 



the litle boy was towne swinarde, 

& kept ffaire Allice swine ; 
full oft hee had seene will/am in the wood, 



& giuen him there to dine. 



runs to the 
wood, 



and tells 
Clowdeslee's 
mates of his 
danger. 



he went out att a crevis of the wall ; 

lightlye to the wood hee runn ; 
there mett hee with these wightye yeomen 
180 shortlye & anon : 

" 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 " 



Only half the second n in the MS. —P. A payre of new gallows there he 
"* • set up. — 7iV. 

2 a new paire of gallowes he set up. 



up. 

3 hung. — P. 



188 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 



"Alas," then sayd good Adam Bell, 
" that euer wee saw this day ! 

he had better haue tariyed with vs, 
soe oft as wee did him pray. 



83 



Adam Bell 
laments 
Clowdeslee's 
fate, 



"bee might haue dwelt in greene fforrest 

vnder the shaddoowes 1 greene, 
& kept both him & vs att rest, 
1 92 out of all trouble and teene. 2 " 



Adam bent a right good bowe ; 

a great hart soone bee bad slaine : 
" take that, child," bee said, "to thy dinner, 
196 & bring me mine arrowe againe." 



shoots a hart 
for the boy, 



" 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 ffull 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 flbr to say. 



and then 
goes with 
Cliin to 
Carlisle. 



1 Bhadowes. — Bel. shadowes skeene. — 
Printed Copy, in Bel. 



2 i.e. vexation. Jun. — P. 

3 wightye.— Bel. * good,— Bel. 



a '_' 



84 



ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE, 



They find 
Carlisle 

gates shut. 



[The Second Part.] 

[How Clowdeslee is rescued by Adam Bell and Clim of the Cloughe.] 

And when they came [to *] merry Carlile 

all in a morning tyde, 
they found the gates shutt them vnto 

round about on euerye syde. 



208 

2? parte. 



212 



"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." 



Clim 
proposes 
" Let's say 
we are the 
King's 
messengers." 



then spake Clim of the Cloughe : 

" with a wile wee will vs in bringe 
Lett vs say wee be messengers 
216 straight come ffrom our Kinge." 



[page 393] 



Adam said, " I haue a Letter well [written 2 ;] 

now lett vs wiselye marke 3 ; 
wee will say wee haue the Kings seale ; 
220 I hold the porter no clarke." 



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. 



and Clim 
says they're 
the King's 
messengers. 



" who be there," said the Porter, 

" that makes all this knockino-e 4 ? " 
"we be 2 messengers," Quoth Clim of the Cloughe, 
228 " be come right ffrom our Kinge." 



1 to.— P. 

2 written. — Bel. 



3 werke. — Bel. 

4 dinne. — Bel. 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 



85 



232 



"wee haue a letter," said Adam Bell, 
" to the Iustice wee must itt bringe ; 

let vs in our message to doe, 

that wee were againe to the Kinge." 



" here cometh none in," said the pointer, 

" by him that dyed on a tree, 
till that ffalse theefe be hanged, 
236 called will/am of Cloudeslee." 



The Porter 
at first 
refuses to 
let them in, 



then spake good l Clim of the Clough, 

& swore by Marye flfree, 
" if that wee stand long without, 
240 like a theefe hanged thou shalt bee. 

" Loe ! here wee haue the "Kings seale ! 

what. Lurden, 2 art thou woode ? '' 
the Porter [weend 3 ] itt had beene soe, 
244 & lightlye did off his hoode. 

" welcome is my hords seale ! " he said ; 

" for that you shall come in." 
he opened the gates shortlye : 
248 an euill opening ffor him ! 

" Now are wee in," said Adam Bell, 

" wheroff wee are right ffaine ; 
but christ hee knowes assuredlye 4 
252 how wee shall gett out againe." 

" had wee the Keyes," sayd Clim of the Cloughe, 

" right well then shold wee speede ; 
then might wee come out well enouge 
256 when wee see time & neode." 



but they 
show him 
the King's 
seal, 



and then ho 
lets them 
in. 



To make 
sure of 
getting out, 



1 the good yeman. — Bel. 

■ a heavy stupid fellow. L. — P. 



3 thought. — P. went. — Eel. i.e. weened, 
mote ib. 

* knowes, that harrowed hell. — Eel. 



86 



ADAM BELL, CLIME OF TIIE CLOUGHE, 



they wring 
the Porter's 
neck, and 
take his 
keys away. 



260 



the called the Porter to conncell, 
& wrang his necke in towe ; 

& cast him in a deepe du[n]geon, 
& tooke his keycs him ffroe. 



" noAv am I Porter," sayd Adam Bell; 

" see, brother, the Keyes haue wee here ; 
the worst Porter in merry Carlile 
264 that came l this 100? yeere. 

Then they " n0 w we e will our bowes bend, 

into the towne will wee goe, 
ffor to delitier onr deere Brother 
268 that lyeth in care & woe." 



bend their 
bows, 



and go to 
the market- 
place, 



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 Instice with a qnest 4 of Squiers 
276 that indged willmm hanged to bee. 



where 
Clowdeslee 
is bound, 
and has a 
rope round 
his neck. 



& Clowdeslee lay ready there in 5 a Cart, 

ffast bonnd both ffoote and hand ; 
& a strong rope about his necke, 
280 all readye ffor to hange. 



1 The have had.— Eel. 

2 qu. sound. — P. So Aseham says, 
" The stringe. must be rounde." Toxoph. 
p. 149, Ed. 1761. A precept not very 
intelligible now. P.'s note in h'/liqucs, i. 
142. A string not round would of course 
spoil the shooting. — F. 



3 stound, signum, Momentum, liora, 
spatium, tempus. Lye. — P. 

4 quest, search ; searchers collectively 
■ — also an impanel'd Jury. See Johnson. 
—P. 

* MS. therein.— F. 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 



87 



284 



the Iustice called to him a Ladcl : 
Clowdeslee clothes hee shold haue, 

to take the measure of that yeoman, 
therafter to make his graue. 



The Justice 
sends a lad 



to measure 
him for his 
grave, 



" I haue seene as great Marveill," said Cloudeslee, 

" as betweene ' this and prime 2 ; 
he that maketh a graue flfor mee, 
288 himselfe may lye therin." 



"thou speukest proudlye," said the Iustice; 

" I will thee hang with my hand." 
ffull well hard this his brethren towe 
292 there still as they did stand. 



and 

threatens to 
hang 

Clowdeslee 
himself. 



then Cloudeslee cast his eye aside, 

& saw his tow brethren 
att a corner of the Markett place 
296 ready the Iustice to slaine. 



" I see comfort," said Cloudeslee, 

" yett hope I well to ffare ; 
If I might haue my hands att will, 
300 right litle wold I care." 



[page 394] 



Clowdeslee 
says he'd 
care little 
if he could 
get his 
hands free. 



then spake good Adam Bell 

to Clim of the Cloughe soe ffree, 
" brother, see you marke the Iustice well 
304 loe, yonder you may him see ! " 



Adam tells 
Clim to 



shoot the 
Justice, 



" att the shirriffe shoote I will 

stronglye with an arrow kecne ; 
a better shoote in merry Carlilo 
308 this 7 yeere was not seene." 



while he 
shoots tho 
Sheriff. 



Only half the w in tho MS.— F. 



2 prime, the first Part of the day. 
Dawn, morning. Johnson. — P. 



88 



ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE, 



They both 
shoot ; 



and Sheriff 
and Justice 



they loosed their arrowes both att once ; 

of no man had they dread ; 
the one hitt the shirr[i]ffe, the other the Iustice, 
312 that both their sides can bleede. 



get their 
death - 
wounds. 



all men voyded that them stoode nye 

when the Instice ffell to the ground, 
& the shirriffe nye him by : 
316 either had his deathes wound. 



They loose 
Clowdeslee. 



all they citizens ffast gan fflye, 
they durst no longer abyde. 
there lightlye they losed Clowdeslee. 
320 where hee with ropes lay tyde. 



He seizes an 
axe and 
smites men 
down. 



william start to an officer of the towne, 
his axe out of his hand hee wrunge ; 
on eche side he smote them clowne, 
324 hee thought hee tarryed all to longe. 



willmm said to his brethren towe, 
" this day lett vs liue and dye ; 
If euer you haue need as I haue now, 
328 the same shall you ffind by mee." 



Adam and 
Clim shoot 
on 



332 



they shott soe well that tyde, 

for their stringes were of silke sure, 
that the kept the streetes on euery side ; 



that battell long did endure. 



and kill 
many, 



they fought together like brethren true, 

like hardy men and bold ; 
many a man to the ground they threw, 
336 & made many a hart cold. 1 



1 And many ;t heart made cold. — P. and Bet. 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 



89 



but when their arrowes were all gone, 

men pressed to them ffull ffast ; 
they drew their swords then anon, 
340 & their bowes fFrom them cast. 



till their 
arrows fail. 



Then they 
draw their 
swords, 



they went lightlye on their way 

With swords & buckelers round 
by that itt was niidd l of the day, 
344 the made many a wound. 



and by noon 
kill many 
men. 



there was many an outhorne 2 in Carlile was blowne, The horns 

are blown, 

& the bells backward did ringe ; and beUs 

rung back- 
many a woman said " alas ! " wards. 

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 Hues they stoode in great doubt. 



The Mayor 
comes down 
with a 
force 



the Maior came armed a ffull great pace, 

w*th a Pollaxe in his hande ; 
many a strong man with him was, 
356 there in thai stowre 3 to stand. 



of strong 
men, 



360 



they maior smote att Cloudeslee with his bill, 

liis buckeler brast in 2 ; 
ffull many a yeaman with great euill, 

" alas, treason ! " the crycd ffull woe 4 : 
"keepe well the gates," ffast they bade, 

" that these trayters thereout not goe." 



cnts 

Clowdeslee's 
buckler in 
two, 



and orders 
the spates 
to be kept 
fast. 



1 middle, middst. — P. 

2 Out-horne. An outlaw (!). Ilalli- 

F, Read a nouthorne, a, 
neat's horn. Nowt cattle, Wright's 



(ilnss.— Skeat. 

3 fight, conflict. Lye. — P. 

4 Alas ! they crycd for wo. — Rcl. 



90 



ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE, 



But the 
three get 
safely out. 



Adam 

throws back 
the keys, 
and tells 
the people 
to appoint a 
new Porter. 



but all ffor naught was that they wrought, 
364 ffor soe fast they were downe Laycl, 
till they all 3 that soe mauffully ffought 
were gotten out att a brayde. 1 

"haue here jour keyes ! " said Adam Bell, 
368 " mine office here I fforsake ; 
If you doe by my Councell, 
a new Porter doe you make." 

he threw their keyes att their heads, 
372 & bad them euill 2 to thriue, 

& all that letteth any good yeoman 
to come & comfort his wiffe. 



The three 



go to the 

trysting 
tree, 

find fresh 
bows and 
arrows, 



and eat and 
drink well. 



thus be the good yeomen gone to the wood : 
376 as lightly e as leaue on lynde 3 

they laugh & be merry in their wood 4 ; 
there enemyes were ffarr behind. 

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." 

the sate downe & made goode cheere, 
388 & eate & dranke ffull well. 

a 2 d ffitt of the wightye yeomen : 
another I will you tell. 



1 Qu. all ahraide, i.e. abroad. North 
Country dialect: abroad, /oris, c^ abroad, 
Scot, braid, lotus, 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. 
Gloss, to G. 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.] 



392 



As they sate in English woode 

vnder the greenwoode tree, 
they thought they hard a woman weepe, 

but her they cold not see. 



3"! parte. <J 



396 



sore then sighed ffaire Allice, 

& said, " alas that euer I saw this day ! 
ffor [nowe x ] is my dere husband slaine ; 

alas, and wellaway ! 



They hear a 
woman 



lamenting 



that her 
husband is 
slain. 



" Might I haue spoken with his deare brethren, 
400 or with 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 
ffull woe in hart and minde. 



Clowdeslee 
finds that 
she is his 
wife, with 
his three 
children. 



" welcome wiffe," then said will/«m, 
408 " vnder the trustye tree ! 

I had wend yesterday, by sweet S* Iohn, 
thou sh oldest me neuer had see." 



He welcomes 
them, 



" now well is mo," she said, " /hut } r ce be here ! 
412 my hart is out of woe." 

" dame," he said, "be merry & gladd, 
& thanke my bretheren towe." 



and tells his 
wife to 
thank his 
mates. 



nowe. — Bel. 



92 



" Don't talk 
of that," 
says Adam: 

" let's shoot 
our supper." 



ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE, 

" lierof to speake," said Adam Bell, 
416 " I-wis itt is noe boote ; 

the meate that wee must supp witk-all, 
itt runeth 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 

Clowdeslee 
gives the 
best to his 
wife. 



" haue here the best, Allice my wiffe," 
424 saith william of Cloudeslee, 

"because yee soe boldlye stood by mee 
when I was slaine Bull nye." 



They sup 



and are 
merry. 



Clowdeslee 
says " We'll 
go to the 
King for 
pardon." 



then they went to supper 
428 with 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 
4.36 att a nnnnerye heere besyde ; 
my 2 sonnes shall with her goe, 
& there they shall abyde. 

"My Eldest sonne shall goe with 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. — Rcl. 
A clear space in a forest. — F. 



Fr. graissc, fat. — F, 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 



93 



thus be these good yeomen to London gone 
444 as ffast as they might hye, 

till they came to the Kinge palace 
where they wold needs bee. 



They then 

goto 

Loudon, 



but when they came to the "Kings court 
448 & to the pallace gate, 

of no man wold they aske leaue, 
but boldlye went in theratt. 



walk 
straight 



into the 



they proceeded p?*esentlye into the hall, 
452 of no man they had dread ; 

the Porter came after, & did them call, 
& w/th them gan to chyde. 



King's hall, 



the vsher said, " yeomen, what wold you haue ? 
456 I pray you tell to mee ; 

you might make officers shent l : 
good sirrs, ffrom whence bee yee ? " 



" Sir, wee be outlawes of the fforrest, 
4G0 certes without any Lease ; 

& hither wee be come to the King, 
to gett vs a Charter of peace." 

& when they came before the Kinge, 
464 as ill was the law of the land 

they kneeled downe w/thout lettinge, 
& eche held vpp his hande. 

i bey sayd : " hord, wee beseechc yee sure 
468 I Imt yee will grant vs grace ! 

for wee haue slaine jour ffatt fallow deere 
in 2 many a sundrye place." 



tell the 
Usher who 
they are, 



kneel to the 
King, 



and ask his 
pardon for 
killing his 
deer. 



1 For no! keeping them out. Seethe 
itities of Prince Edward's Porters, a. d. 
1474, in Household Ordinances, p. *30. 
ind of Henry VIIL's Porters, ibid.p. 239. 



Also Boke of Curtasye, 1. 3C1-78, Babecs 
Book&c, p. 310— F. 
- im in .MS.— F. 



94 



The King 
asks their 
names. 

They tell 
him. 



ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE, 

" whatt be jour names ? " then sayd the Kmg ; 
472 " anon that you tell mee." 

They sayd, "Adam Bell, Clim 1 of the Clough, [page 39G] 
and william of Cloudeslee." 



He swears 

he'll hang 
them all, 



and orders 
their arrest. 



"be yee those theenes," then said our Ki[ng], 
476 " that men haue told to me ? 

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 
ffast 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. 



They pray 
him to let 
them go 
with the 
weapons 
they 
brought. 



" 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 



" with, such weapons as wee haue heere 
492 till wee be out of yowr place ; 
& iff wee Hue this 100? yeere, 
of you wee will aske noe grace." 



The King 
refuses: 
they shall 
be hanged. 

The Queen 
intercedes 

for them, 



"yee speake proudlye," said the Kmg ; 
496 " yee shall be hanged all 3." 

" that were great pittye," sayd the Queene, 
" if any grace might bee. 



1 MS. Cliim.— F. 



2 Insomuch as frele to you we comen, 
As frele fro you to passo. — Iiel. 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 



95 



" my Lord!, when I came ffirst into this Land 
500 to be your weded wiffe, 

[you said] the ffirst boone that I wold aske, 
you wold grant me belyue. 



and asks the 
King for the 
boon he 
promised 
her. 



" & I asked yee neuer none till now ; 
504 therefore, good hord, grant itt mee." 
" now aske itt, Madam," said the King, 
" & granted itt shalbe." 



He says it 
shall be 
granted. 



"then, good my Lore?, I you beseeche, 
508 these yeomen grant yee mee." 

" Maddam, 1 yee might haue asked a boone 
that shold haue beene worth them all 3. 



"Then give 
me these 
yeomen." 



" you might haue asked towers & townes, 
512 Parkes & ffoi'rests plentye." 

" none soe pleasant to my pay, 2 " shee sayd, 
"nor none 3 soe leefe 4 to mee." 



" Madam, sith itt is yo«r desire, 
516 jour askinge granted shalbe ; 
but I had leever haue giuen you 
good Markett townes three." 

the Queene was a glad woman, 
520 & said, " Lord, god a mercye ! 
I dare vndertakc fibr them 
that true men the}' shalbee. 



" I will, 



though I'd 
rather have 
given you 
3 market 
towns." 

The Queen 



" but, good hord, speake some merrye word, 
524 thai some comfort they might see." 

:t I grant you grace," then said the Kmg, 
•■ washe ffellowes, & to meate goe yee." 



then gets the 
King to 
order her 

men food. 



1 .MS. Maddan.— P. 
1 rid. Page 363, St. 23 [of MS.; in the 
'2ml Pari i if John de Reeve]. — P. 



3 nore in MS. — F. 

1 leefe, dear, beloved. Johns" — P. 



96 



ADAM BELL, CLIME OF TTIE CLOUGHE, 



Soon come 
messengers 



they had not sitten but a while, 
528 certaine without Leasinge, 1 

there came 2 messengers out of the North 
with letters to our kinge. 



from 
Carlisle. 



The King 
aslcs after 
bis Justice 
and Sheriff. 
" They've 
been slain 



& when they came before the King 
532 the kneeled downe vpon their knee, 
& said, " jour officers greete you well 
of Carlile in the North cuntrye." 

" how flfareth my Iustice ? " sayd the King, 
536 " and my Sherriffe alsoe ? " 

" Sir, they be slaine, without leasinge, 
& many an officer moe." 



by Adam, 
Clim, and 
Clowdeslee. : 



" 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 1000 1 / 
I had knowen this before, 



" If I'd 

known this 
before, I'd 
have hung 
them." 



" ffor I haue granted them grace, 
548 & thai fforthinketh 3 mee ; 

but had I knowen all this before, 
they had beene hangd all 3." 



The King 

then reads 
of the 300 
men slain 
by the 3 

outlaws, 



the King hee opened the letter anon, 
552 himselfe he read itt thoe, 

& there found how these outlawes bad slaine 
300 men and moe : 



j.e. Lying. Jun. — P. 



- rewth.— Bel. 



repents. — F. 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 



97 



" ffirst the Iustice & the Sheriffe, 
556 & the Maior of Carlile towne, — 
of all the Constables and catcpoules, 
Aliue were left but one. 



(the Mayor, 
Catchpolls, 



lpage 397] 



" the Baliffes & the Beadeles both, 
560 & the Sargeaunt of the law, 
& 40 fforresters of the ffee, 

these outlawes haue the slawe," 



Beadles, 

Serjeant 
of Law, 
and 40 

foresters,) 



" & broke his parkes, & slaine his deere, 
564 of all they Coice 2 the best ; 

soe pe?illous outlawes as they were, 
walked not by East nor west." 



and his deer 

killed. 



when the Kmg this Letter had read, 
568 in hart he sighed sore, 

"take vp the tables, 3 " then sayd hee, 
"ffor I can eate no more." 

the ~King then called his best archers 
572 to the butts with him to goe, 

" to see 4 these ffellowes shoot," said hee, 
" that in the north haue wrought this woe." 

the "Kings archers busket 5 them blythe, 
576 soe did the Queenes alsoe, 

soe did these 3 weightye yeomen, 
they thought w/th them to goe. 

there 2"° or 3*f they shott about 
580 for to assay their hand ; 

there was no shoote these yeomen shott 
that any pricke G might stand. 



and can eat 
no more. 

But he 
calls his 
archers 
to shoot 
against 



the 3 
outlaws. 



' slain.— P. 

2 Qu. chose. — P. 

3 They were laid on trestles.- F. 
' I w.vll Be.— Bel. 
5 busked; Scot, busk it, dress'd, decked 

VOL. III. 



(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 centre 
of tli c target. — F. 



98 



ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGIIE, 



Clowdeslee 
says the 



butts arc too 
wide. 



then spake william of Cloudeslee, 
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, Sir," hee said, 
"as men vse 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 hassell rodds 
400 paces betweene. 



shoots, and 
splits one 
in two. 



Then he 
proposes to 
tie his son 
to a stake, 



" I hold him an archer," said Cloudeslee, 
596 " that yonder wand cleeueth in towe." 
"heere is none such," said the "King, 
"for no man can soe doe." 

"I shall assay," sayd Cloudeslee, 
600 " or that I ffurther goe." 

Cloudeslee with a bearing l arrow 
claue the wand in towe. 

"thou art the best archer," said our King, 
604 " fforsooth that euer I see." 

" & yett ffor jour loue," said william, 
" I will doe more mastery e : 

" I haue a sonne is 7 yeere old, 
608 hee is to me ffull deere ; 
I will tye him to a stake — 

all shall see him that bee here, — 



1 ? moaning of bearing. Strutt says, 
" I rathor 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." Sports, p. 65, ed. Hone. As 
all arrows do that, this can be no ex- 
planation of either "mark of compass" 
(on which see my note on " pricks " in 
The Babccs Book, cfc.) or " bearing." — F. 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 



99 



" & lay an apple vpon his head, 
612 & goe sixe score paces hini ffroe, 
& I my selfe with a broad arrrowe 
shall cleaue the apple in towe." 



and splil an 
apple on his 
head at 120 

paces. 



"now hast thee," said the Kinge ; 
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 Saints ^/i<zt bee in heauen, 
I shall you hang all 3: ! " 



The King 
agrees ; 



but if 
Clowdeslee 
fails, he's tc 
be hanged, 



and Adam 
and Clim 
too. 



" that I haue promised," said william, 
624 " that I will neuer flbrsa\e : " 
& there euen before the 'King, 
in the earth he droue a stake, 



& bound thereto his eldest sonne, 
628 & bade him stand still thereatt, 
& turned the childes'flace him fl'roe 
because hee should not start. 



Clowdeslee 
ties his boy 
to a stake, 



an apple vpon his head he sett, 
632 & then his bow he bent ; 

sixe score paces they were mcaten, 1 
& thither Cloudcslee went. 



puts an 
apple on hia 
head, 



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 stifle & stronge ; 



Bets an 
arrow in 

his bow, 



1 meted, i.e. measured. — P. 



2 There is a tag at the end like a. — F, 



100 



ADAM DELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE, 



he prayed the people that were there 
640 That they wold still stand, 1 

" ffor hee that shooteth ffor such a wager 
had need of a steedye hand." 



[page 398] 



much people prayed for Cloudeslee, 
644 that his liffe saued might bee ; 

& when hee made him readye to shoote, 
there was many a weepinge eye. 



and cleaves 
the apple in 
two. 

The King 



thus Cloudeslye claue the aple in 2, 
648 as many a man might see : 

" now god fforffbidd, 2 " then said the Km*/, 
" that thou sholdest shoote att mee ! 



gives him 
8d. a day, 
and makes 
him his 
bowbearer. 



" I gaue 3 thee 8 pence a day, 
652 & my bow shalt thow beare, 
& ouer all the north cuntrye 
I make thee CheefFe ryder." 



The Queen 
gives him 
13d. a day, 



makes him a 
gentleman, 



puts his son 
in her wine- 
cellar, 



" & He giue thee 13? a day," said the Queene, 
656 "by god and by my ffay ! 

come ffeich thy payment when thou wilt, 
no man shall say thee nay. 

" willi am, I make thee a gentleman, 
660 of Cloathinge and of ffee ; 

& thy 2 bretheren, yeomen of my chamber, 
for they are louely 4 to see. 

" jour sonne, ffor hee is tendar of age, 
664 of my winesellar he shalbe ; 

& when hee comes to mans estate, 
better prefferred shall hee bee. 



1 The same injunction is often heard 
at, firing-points now. — F. 

2 Over Gods forbode.— Eel. 



8 give. — P. 

4 so semely. — Rel. 



AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE. 



101 



" & wilh'am, bring me yo»r wiffe," said the Queene, 
668 " I long her sore to see ; 

shee shall bee my cheefe gentlewoman l 
to gouerne my nnrserye." 

the yeomen thanked them full curteouslye, 
672 & sayd, " to some Bishopp wee will wend ; 

of all the sinns that wee haue done, 
to be assoyled 2 att his hand." 



and promises 
to set his 
wife 



over her 
nursery. 



Tin three 
go to a 
Bishop 



to be 
shriven, 



soe forth be gone these good yeomen 
676 as ffast as they can hye, 

& after came & liued with, the K.mg f 
& dyed good yeomen all 3. 



and then 

live 

and die well. 



Thus endeth the liffe of these good yeomen, 
680 god send them eternall blisse ! 

& all that with, a hand-bow shooteth, 

that of heauen they may neuer misse ! IlirilS. 



God send 
them and all 
bowmen 
bliss 1 



MS. gentlewonnan. — F. 



2 i.e. absolved, Assoile, absolvere, 
liberare. Lye. — P. 



102 



As the Cyclic poets adopted the lesser Homeric heroes as the 
centres of new epics, as the Eomancists in process of time cele- 
hrated other members of the Round Table besides its great 
founder, as the ballad-writers sung of Much and Scarlett as well 
as of Robin Hood, so here one who appears as a minor character 
in the great poem of " Adam Bell, Gym of the Clough, and 
William of Cloudeslee," has a poem devoted to his special honour. 
The piece was printed in 1605 by James Roberts, 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 



of voung 
William 
Clowdeslee, 



who loved a 
bonny lass. 



12 



10 



JjISTE : northeren Ladds, to blyther things 
then yett were brought to light, 

performed by our Countrymen 
in many 2 a ffray and flight, 

of Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough, 

and william of Clowdeslee, 3 
who were in flavor with the Kinge 

flbr all their miserye. 

younge william of the wine-sellar, 4 

when yeoman hee was made, 
gan fibllowe then his Sathers stepps, 

hee loued a bonny mayde. 

" gods crosse ! " quoth. wilhVrm, " if I misse, 

& may not of her speede, 
lie make 1000 northerne 5 hartes 6 

flbr verry woe to bleede. 



1 List Northcrno Laddes to blither 
things.— E. 

2 miekle. — R. 

3 Cloudisly.— R. 



4 Pec the last poem, 1. 664, p. 100.—?. 

5 Only half of the second n in the MS. 



-F. 



6 a thousand Northen hearts. — R. 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



103 



gone is lice l a wooinge now, 

our Ladye -will 2 him guide ; 
to merry mansfeild, will, 3 I trow, 
20 a time hee will abyde. 

" Soone dop 4 the dore, ffaire Sislye bright, 5 

I come with all the hast ; 
I am come a wooinge to 6 thee for loue, 
24 heere am I come att Last." 

" I know you not," q?(otk Sisely 7 tho, 

" from whence that yee be come 8 ; 
my loue you may not haue, I trow, 
28 I vow by this ffaire 9 sonne. 10 

" ffor why, my loue is ffixt so sure 

vpon another wight ; 
I sweare by sweet Ann, He 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 [page 399] 

36 my hart wold ioye to see." 



lie goes 
courting 



to Mansfield, 



and tells fair 
Sisely to 
open the 
door. 



Sisely says 



she can't 
love him, 



as her love 
is fixed on 
another, 



whom she 
hopes to see 
to-night. 



40 



" gods cursse vppon [him,] n " younge will/am sayd, Young 

Clowdeslee 

before me that hath sped ! curses him, 

a ffoule ill on the carryon nursse 
that ffirst did binde his head ! " 



gan wilKom tho for to prepare 
a medcine ffor the chaffe 12 ; 
" his liffc," quoth, hee, " ffull hard may ffare ; 
44 bees best to keepe alaffe." 



and resolves 
to kill her 
lover. 



1 he is.— R. 2 well.— E. 

3 where. — R. 

4 dope, i.e. do open. — P. 

5 Some dop the dore fuire Cicelie 
bright.— R. 

• to omitted.— R. ' Cicelie.— R. 
8 MS. become. — F. bee come. — R. 



9 ffaure with a dot over tho u in the 
MS.— F. 

10 sun.— P. " him.— R. 

12 ? for chujTc, a term of reproach. 
Halliwell. See Lord en, 1. 71. — F. medi- 
cino for that chaffe. — R. 



104 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



He draws 
his sword, 



48 



he drew then out his bright browne sword, 
which was soe bright and keene ; 

a stonter man & hardyer 

neere handled sword, I weene. 



and by way 

of trying it, 



" browne tempered Sword & worthye l blade, 

vnto thy master showe, 
if thou 2 to tryall thou be put, 
52 how thou canst 3 byde a blowe." 



cuts in two 
an oak 



56 inches 
round, 



younge Will/'om to an oke gan hye 
which, was in compasse round 

well 56 4 inches nye, 

& ffeld itt to the ground. 



wishing it 
was Ms rival. 



" soe mote he ffare," quoth, wilh'am tho, 

" that ffor her loue hath Layde 
which I haue loued, & neere did know 
60 him sutor till that mayde. 



He longs 
for his 
father, 



" & now, deere ffather stout & stronge, 

william of Cloudeslee, 
how happy were thy troubled sonne 
64 if here I might 5 thee see, 



Adam, 
and Clim, 

as they'd 
fight 1000 
men. 



" & thy 2 6 brethren Adam Bell 

& Clim of the Cloughe ; 
against a 1000 men & more 
68 wee 4 wold bee enoughe. 



}\c calls on 
Siscly's lover 
to conic on, 



72 



" growne itt is null 4 a clocke, 
& night will come beliue ; 

Come on, thou Lorden, sisleys 7 loue ! 
this night I must 8 thee shriue. 



1 strong, and worthy. — E. 

2 that.— P. now.— E. 

3 canst thou. — E. 

* Read "six and fifty."— F. six and 



fifty.— E. 

6 mot.— E. 

7 Lurden Cisleis. — E. 

8 must I.— R. 



" too.— E. 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 105 

" prepare thee strong, thou ffowle black calfe ! ! 

what ere thou be, I weene 
He giue thy coxcombe sayke 2 a girde 3 
76 in mansfeiild as was neuer 4 seene." 



will/«m a young ffawne had slaine and takes 

J ° a fawn 

in 5 sherwood merry fforrest ; 

a ffairer ffawne ffor mans meate 6 

80 in sherwood was neuer 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 thou good ould nursse, 
84 that in to thee I goe ; 

" I ffaint With being in the woods 10 ; 

loe, heere I haue a kidd 
which. I haue slaine ffor thee & mee n ; 
88 come, dresse itt then, I bidd ; to cook for 

him. 

" ffeitch bread and other lolly ffare, 

Avhereof thou hast some store ; 
a blyther guest this 100 yeere 
92 came neuer heere before." 



the good old naunt 12 gan lryc apace The old 

CI ft 1 1 1 C 

to lett young William in ; lets him in, 

" a happy nursse," quoth william then, 
96 " as can be lightlye seene. 

1 fow black Caufe. — R. ' Mansfield as neuer was. — It. 

2 In what district is sayke used for s MS. im. — F. 8 ymeat. — It. 
such ? Jn Somersetshire, jitch is the 7 Northcrne lasse. — R. 

word, llalliwcll, ]>. xxvii., xxviii. In H lie fro. — R. 

Lancashire, sick (K. xxiii.), but at Bury !l dop dore. — R. I0 wood.— R. 

Hitch {Hi.) ; and in ( iloiuvstershiru cilch " slo for thee and I. — R. 

(II. xviii.) n Nant. R. 

3 a gird. — R. 



106 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



and he 
promises 
her a reward 



100 



" wend till that house hard by," q?foth hee, 
" thats made of lime and stone, 

where is a Lasse, ffaire Cis," hey ! said, 2 
" 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 under- 
takes 
to bring 
Sisely, 



"rest then, ffaire Sir," the woman said, 

" I sweare by good S' Iohn 
I will bring to you that same maid 
108 ffull quicklye and anon." 



" meane [time], 3 " qwotk William, " He be Cooke, 

to see the ffawne well drest 4 : " 
a stouter Cooke did neuer come 
1 12 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 wilh'am like a nimble cooke 

is dressing of the ffare, 
& ffor this damsell doth hee looke, 
120 "I wold that shee weer heere ! " 



[page 400] 



» [insert] he.— P. The MS. is Cishey, 
for Cis he, or, moro probably, CisJcy. — F. 

2 Cisse hee said. — E. 

3 meane time. — P. meane time. — E. 
* I drest.— li. 

5 ? the district of thicke for that. In 
Dorsetshire thik is used. See Ilalli- 



well's Gloss, p. xvi., and Barnes's Glos- 
sary. Thickeo, this, Devon, and thicca 
cloud, p. xr. Halliwell. Thick, the one 
that, that which, Somersetshire. Thee's 
know thick us da meanne, tha da call 'm 
wold Boss {it>. p. xxvii. col. 1). — F. 
6 enow. — E. 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



107 



"god speed, blyth Cisley l ! " q?toth that old Lasse. 

" god dild 2 yee," qwoth Cisley, " againe ; 
how doe yee, naunt lone 3 ? " sliee said, 
124 " tell me itt, I am ffaine." 

the good old woman 4 said " weele shee was, 

& comen an arrand to 5 you ; 
for you must to my cottage gone 
1 28 ffull quickley, 6 I tell you true, 

" where wee ffull merry meane to bee 

all with my elder Ladd." 
when Cisley hard of itt, trulye 
132 shee was exceeding gladd. 

" gods cursse light on me," q?roth Cisley tho, 

" if wtth you that 7 I doe not bye ! 
I neuer ioyed more, fforsoothe, 
136 then in yowr Companye." 

happy the good wiffe thought her selfe 

that of her purpose shee had sped, 8 
& home wi'th Sisley shee is came, 9 
140 soe lightly e they did tread l0 ; 

& coming in, here wilh'am soone 

had made readye his ffare ; 
the good old wiffe did wonder much 
144 soe soone as shee came there. 



The old 
dame 



tells Sisely 

she must 
come and 



make merry 
in her 
cottage. 

Sisely gladly 
agrees to go, 



and into the 
cottage they 
walk. 



William has 
his venison 
ready, 



Cisley to wilhVn» now is gone, 11 

god send her Mickle glee, 
yett was shee in a maze, god wott, 
148 when shee saw itt was hee. 



and Sisely 
with him. 



i Cisse.— R. 

7 yield it. — F. requite, speed : "Well, 
God dild you ! " says Ophelia. Hamlet, 
act iv. sc. 5. — Dyce. 

3 done you Nant Iono. — R. 

• lone.— R. 



s till.— R. 6 q-iick.— R. 

7 that omitted.— R. 

8 that her purpose he had of sped. — R. 

9 she doth come. — R. 

10 did they read. — R. 

11 come. — R. 



108 



YOUNGE CLOUDE.SLEE. 



But she says 
she'd never 
have come if 
she'd known 
he was there. 



William 



prays her to 
stop and eat 

his kid ; 



and his 
loving words 
win her 
heart. 

Meantime 

Sisely's 
lover, 



a noble- 
minded 
man, 



"had I beene ware, good Sir," sliee said, 

" of that itt bad beene you, 
I wold bane stayd att borne in sooth, 
152 I tell yon verry true." 

"faire Cisley," said then 1 wilb'rnn Kind, 

" misdeeme thee not of mee ; 
I sent not ffor thee to that 2 end 
156 to doe the iniurye. 

" sitt downe that wee may talke awhile, 

& eate all of the best, 
the ffattest kidd that euer was slaine 
160 in merry Sherwood fforrest. 3 " 

bis louinge 4 Avords wan Cisley 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 bee was 

of qualitye & kind, 
& knowen 6 through all the north cuntrye 
168 to beare a noble minde. 



comes to her 
cottage ; 



but she is 

lied. 



"but," quoth. 7 willmm, " doe I care ? 

if that bee meane to weare, 
first lett 8 him winne, 9 else neuer shall 
172 he haue the mayd, I sweare." 

ffull softly e is her loue[r] 10 come, 

and knocked att the dore : 
but tho u he mist Cisleys companye, 12 
176 wher-att bee stampt and 13 swore. 



1 then said. — It. 

2 to the.— R. 

8 Sir-wood Forrest. — It. 

4 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 

6 to keepe with him.— R. 
c knowne. — R. 

7 Jint what quoth.— R. 



8 There appears to he some letter 
between the e and t in the MS. — F. let. 
— R. 

! ' wime in tho MS. — F. 
10 loner.— R. " i.e. then.— P. 

12 roome. — R. 

13 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



109 



180 



"a misclieeffe on his heart," qwoth hee, 
" that hath allured this ' mayd 

to bee with him in company ! " 
he cared not what hee sayd, 



He curses 
her beguiler, 



hee was soe 2 with 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 out, 

not knowing where shee is ; 
still wandering in the weary wood 
188 his true loue he doth misse. 



and swears 
he shall pay 
for her if 
he finds him. 



willAim 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 ! " 



But William 
means to 
keep her. 



Att lenght when hee had wandred long [page 401 ] At last 

the lover 

about the iiorrest side, 4 
a Candle lio-lit a ffurloner of 5 

o o 

196 Hull quickley hee espyed. 



then to the house hee hyed him ffast, 

where quicklye hee gan hcare 
the voice of his owne true loue 6 
200 a makinge bonny chcere. 



hears 

Sisclj '.-, 
voice. 



then gan he say to Cisley tho, 

" Cisley, come away ! 
I haue beene wandring thee to Hind 
204 since shutting in of day." 



He calls her 
to come to 
him. 



1 the.- I.'. 

2 yso. — B. 

3 pui\'h;ist. — R. 



* wide. — R. 

6 off— R. 

8 ownu deere truo loue. 



-R, 



110 



YOUJSGE CLOUDESLEE. 



William 
asks who 
dares do this. 



208 



" who calls ffaire Cisley l ? " qnoth. wilh'am tlio, 2 

" what carle dares be soe bold, 
once to aduenture to her to speake 

who [I] haue in my hold 3 ? " 



The lover 
threatens 
him. 



" List thee, ffaire Sir," qwoth Cisley s lone, 

" lett quickelye her ffrom yon part : 
ffor all your Lordlye words, Tie sweare 4 
212 He hane her, or lie make yon 5 smart ! " 



William says 
he'll 



young William to his bright browne sword 

gan qnickelye then to take : 
" because thou soe doest challenge me, 
216 He make thy kingdome quake. 



fight for his 
love. 



" betake thee to thy weapon stronge, 

ffaire time I giue to thee ; 
& ffor my loue as well as thine 
220 a combatt flight will I." 



" neuer lett sunn," q?(oth Cisley s lone, 

" shine more vpon my head, 
If I doe flrye, by heauen aboue, 
224 wert thou a gyant bredd ! " 



He takes his 
sword, 



and the fight 

begins. 

It lasts two 

hours, 



to Bilbo blade got wilh'am tho 

that was both stifle and stronge 6 : 
a stout battell then they Sought, 
228 weer neere 2 7 houres longe ; 

where many a greiuous wound was giuen 8 

to eche on either part, 
till both the champyons then were droue 

almost quite out of hart. 



1 Cisse.— E. 

2 then.— E. 

8 whom I haue now in hold. — R. 
4 I swoare. — It. 



5 or make you. — R. 

6 and buckler stiffo. — R. 

7 well mo two. — R. 

8 giue. — R. 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



Ill 



23G 



jDittyous moane fFaire Cisley made, 

that all the fForrest rouge ; 
the greiuous shrikes made such a noysc, 

shee had soe shrill a tounge. 



att last came in the keepers 3 

with bowes and arrowes keene, 
where they lett flye among these 2, 
240 a 100? 1 as I weene. 



Siscly 
moaning 



and 

shrieking 
all the 
while. 



Then three 
keepers 
come to stop 
them, 



will/am strong & stout 2 in hart, 

when he had them espyed, 
sett on courage ffor his part, 
244 among the thickest hee hyed. 



but William 



the cheefe ranger of the woods 

att mrst did william smite, 
where att one blow he smote his head 
248 ffrom of his shoulders quite. 



cuts off tho 
chief- 
ranger's 
head, 



& being in soe ffuryous teene, 

about him then hee Laid, 
he slew immedyatlye the wight 
252 was sutor to the mayde. 



and then 
kills Sisely's 
lover. 



great moane was then 3 made ; 

the like was ncuer hard, 
which made the people all around 
256 to crye, they were soe ffeard. 



The people 
make great 
moan, 



" arme, arme ! " the cuntryc cryed, 

" for gods loue quicklyc hye ! " 
neuer was such a slaughter seene 
2G0 in all the north countrye. 



and raise tl.e 
Cuiintry. 



1 an hundred.— It. 



stout and strong. — R. 



3 then. — Jt. 



112 



YOLWGE CLOUDESLEE. 



William kills 
the other two 
keepers, 



wilKani still, tho * wounded sore, 

continued still his 2 flight 
till he had slaine them all 4 
264 that verry winters 3 night. 



all the contrye then was raysed, 

the traitor ffor to take 
that ffor the loue of Cisley ffaire 
268 had all the slaughter make. 



and then 

hies 

to a cave 

with Sisely. 



to the woods hyed william tho, — ■ 

itt was the best 4 of all his play,- 
where in a eaue with Cisley ffaire 
272 hee liued many a day. 



Procla- 
mation is 
made to take 
William. 



proclamation then was sent [ pa g e 402] 

the cuntrye all arounde, 
' the ~Lord of Mansfeild shold hee bee 
276 that ffirst the traytor ffounde.' 



His father, 
Adam, and 
Clim, 



to 5 the court these tydings came, 

where all men doth 6 bewayle 
the young & lustye Wilh'am 
280 w//;'ch soe had made them quaile. 

hyed vp william of Cloudeslee 7 

& lustye Adam Bell, 
& ffamous Clim of the Cloughc, 
284 w/u'ch 3 did them 8 excell : 



go to the 
King, 



and ask 
mercy for 

William's 
son. 



to the 'King they hyed them ffiast, 

ffull quicklye & anon, 
" mercye, I pray," qwoth old wilk'am, 
288 " ffor william my sonne ! " 



1 Will still though.— E. 

2 in his. — II. ■' winter. — E. 
* twas best.— R. 5 Till.— R. 



6 did.— R. 

7 Hied vp thon "William, Cloudosley. 
— R. 8 then did. -R. 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



113 



" no mercye, traitors ! " quoth the ~King, 

" you shall be hanged all 4 ! l 
vnder my nose this plott yee haue 2 laid, 
292 to bring to passe before." 

" Insooth," bespake then Adam Bell, 

" ill signe jour grace hath seene 
of any such commotyon 
296 since with you wee haue beene. 



The Kins,' 
says he'll 
hang all four 
of them. 



Adam then 
says 



" If then wee can no mercye haue, 

but leese both liffe and goods, 
of yowr good grace wee take our leaue, 
300 & hye vs to the woods." 

" arme, arme," then quoth the K.mg, 

" my merry men euer-eche one, 3 
ffull ffast againe these rebells nowe * 
304 [that] 5 vnto the woods are gone ! " 

" O, woe is vs ! what shall wee doe, 

or which way shall wee worke, 
to hunt them fforth out of the woods, 
308 soe traiterouslye there that lurke ? 

"list you," quoth a counsellor graue, 

a wise man he seemed, 
" the craued the TSLing his pardon ffree 
312 vnto them to haue deemed." 



they'll take 
to the woods. 



The King 
orders his 
men to arm 
and pursue 
the rebels. 



The men 
don't like the 
job. 



A counsellor 
advises that 
the rebels ba 
pardoned. 



" gods fforbott 6 ! " quoth the Kmg, 

" I neuer itt will doe ! 
for they shall hang, eche mothers sonne, 
316 I tell you verry true ! 7 " 



The King 
swears 
he'll hang 
them, 



1 hang'd shall yeo be all fouro. — R. 

* haue you. — R. 

a euery chone. — R. 

* now.— R. 5 that omitted .— R. 
s forebode, Praceptum. Chauc. Goddea 

VOL. III. 



forebode to breke, dei prceceptum violare. 
Lye. — P. Seo vol. i. p. 18, note '. "prick 
him godsforbod." Hoywood's /■.'/</- 
grammes, 236. — F. forbod. — R. 
7 fairo sir I tell you true. — R. 



114 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



and sends 
50,000 men 
after them, 



some of 
whom go to 
the woods. 



But Adam 
and Clim go 
on killing 
the King's 
deer. 



Then the 

King 

says, 

" they are 

fine fellows. 



50000 men were charged 
after them ffor to take ; 
some of them sett in sundrye townes, 
320 in companyes l did waite ; 

to the woods gan some to goe, 

in hope to ffincl them out ; 
& them perforce they thaught to take, 
324 if that they might ffind them out. 

to they woods still they 2 came, 

dispatched still they were, 
w7«'ch made ffull many a trembling hart 3 
323 & many a man in ffeare. 

still the outlawes Adam Bell 

& Clim of the Cloughe 
made lolly cheere with venison, 
332 stronge drinke & wine enoughe. 

" Crist mee blesse ! " then said our King, 

" such men were neuer 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 
them good 
store 
if they'll 
come and 
live with 
me." 



" liuings plenty they shall haue 7 

of gold & eke of ffee, 
If they did 8 as they did before, 
344 come Hue in court with mee." 



1 compamyee in the MS. — F. 

2 still as they.— R. 
8 heart.— R. 

4 the.— R. 



5 showne. — R. 

* MS. caused. — F. cause. — P. 

7 Liuing plenty shall they haue. — R. 

B they will do.— P. they will.— R. 



YOCNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



115 



348 



soddenlye went fforth the newes 
declared by trumpetts sound, 

wherof these 3 were well advised 
in cane as they were in ground. 



The three 
hear of this, 



"but list you, Sirs," quoth, willmm younge, but young 

" I dare not trust the Kinge ; r page 40 .3] doubtethe 

itt is some ffeitch is in bis 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." 



and asks 
that he may 
go to 
court and 
see him. 



this pleased Adam Bell, 

" soe wee may Hue in peace, 
wee are att his most bye commando, 
360 & neuer will we cease ; 



Adam 
agree?, 



" but if that still wee shall be vrged, 

& called by traitors x name, 
& threated hanging for euery thing, 
364 his hiprnesse is too blame. 



3C8 



" neare 2 had his grace subiects more true 3 

& sturdyer then wee, 
"which are att his hjgnesse will, 



god send him well to bee ! " 



saying that 

the King 

never had 

better 

subjects 

than 

themselves. 



soe to the court is young willwmi gone 

to parley with tbc Kinge, 
where 4 all men to the Kings presence 
372 did striue for to him brin^e. 5 



Young 

William 
goes to the 
King, 



1 traitrous. — R. 

s ne'er.— P. 

3 moro subjects true. li. 



* Which,— It. 

6 him for to bring. 



-R. 



IK) 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



kneels to 
him, 



376 



when hee before the K.mg was come, 
he kneeled clowne ffull lowe ; 

he showed qiiicklye to the Kinge 
what duty they did owe. 



and soon 
wins him 
over. 



in such delightffull order blythe, 
the ~King was quicklye woon l 
to comfort them in their request, 
330 as hee before had done. 



The King 
asks him 
to stay the 
night at 
court, 



" ffeitch bread & drinke," then said his grace, 

" & rueate all of the best ; 
& stay all night heere att the court, 
384 & soundlye take thy rest." 



and gives 
him his seal 
in token of 
pardon. 



" gramercy 2 to yo^tr grace," said will : 

"for pardon granted, I see." 
" for signe thereof, heere take my seale, 
388 & for more certaintye." 

" gods cursse vpon me," said will/am, 

" for my part if I meane 
Euer againe to stirr vp striffe ! 
392 itt neuer shalbe seene." 



The Lords 
and Ladies 
welcome 
him, 



the Nobles all to Wilh'om came, 

he were soe stout & trim, 
& all the Ladyes for verry ioy 
396 did come to welcome him. 



and tell him 
to bring 
Sisely to 
court. 



" ffaire Cisley now I haue to wiffe, 

in ffeild I haue her woone. 3 " 
"bring her, for gods lone," said the 4 all, 
400 " welcome shee shall bee soone. 5 " 



<vonru .— R. 

2 (ininiriviis. — K. 

3 wonne. — R. 



* they.— R. 

1 full welcome shall she be. — R. 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



117 



404 



forth againe "went williawra backe, 
to woode that hee did hye, 

& to his ffather there hee shewed 
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 Cloughe 
408 & wilh'am of Cloudeslee. 



to the court they all prepare 

as ffast as * they can hye, 
where gracyouslye they were receined 
412 with mirth and merry glee. 

Cisley ffaire is gone 2 alone 

vpon a gelding ffayre ; 
a properer 3 damsell neuer came 
416 in any courtly e ayre. 

" welcome, Cisley ! " sayd the Queene, 

" & Lady I thee make, 
to waite vpon my owne person 
420 in all my cheefe estate. 4 " 

soe quicklye -was the 5 matter done 
which, was soe hardlye doubted, 
I/mi all contentions after that 
424 from court were quicklye rooted. 6 

fauorable was the kinee, 

for good 7 they did him ffind ; 
They neuer after ffought againe 8 [page km] 
428 to vex his royall minde. 



Then all of 
them 
come to 
court, 



with Sisely 
on a good 
gelding. 



The Queen 
welcomes 
her and 
makes her a 
Lady in 
Waiting. 



And so all 
the trouble 
is happily 
settled, 



1 etien as fast as. — R. 

2 wend.— II. 

3 proprer.— R. 

* chiefc-I state- Et. 



5 this. — R. 

' row ted. — J\. 

7 so good. — R. 

s The neuer after sought againo. — R. 



118 



YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 



and our 
heroes 



never after 
troubled the 
King. 



432 



long time 1 they liued in court 
soe neere vnto the Kinge, 

that neuer after attempted - was 
offred ffor any thinge. 



May God 



prevent men 
rebelling 



god aboue, giue all men grace, 

in quiett ffor to Hue, 
& not rebelliouslye abroad 
436 their princes ffor to greeue ! 



in hope of 

getting 

pardon, 



let not the hope of pardon moue 

a subiect to attempt 
his soueraignes anger, or his loue, 
440 ffrom him for to exempt ; 



and make 



all serve God 
and the 
King. 



but that all men may ready e bee 
With all their maine and might 
to serue the lord, & loue the 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 lias this title, Adam Bell, dim of the Clough, and William 
Cloudesle. Land. 1G05. 9 leaves. Eegister A, C 2. Part II., 7 leaves. Eegister 
A 2, B4. 

There are two copies in Bodley. 4° C. 39, Art, Seld. ; 'Ma-lone, 299.— G. Parker.] 



[ " Come Wanton Wenches,'''' printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, 
2>. 80-1, follows here in the MS. p. 404.] 



119 



fox oftie x times? paste : x 

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 sub- 
jects 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 green- 
wood life, the songs and dances, bows and hunts of an earlier time, 
the pillars of pleasure seen without the intervening spaces of sad- 
ness 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." 

' An ( )l,l Song in Praise of Archery.— P. mid I lie good old times.— P. 



120 IN OLDE TIMES PASTE. 

This is a change from Kobert of Brunne's time in 1303, when 
Envy — which I suppose to include social grumbling and dis- 
content, then more than justifiable — was the Englishman's special 

sin : 

And Englys men namely 

Are burghe kynde of herte by. 

A forbyseyn ys tolde bys, 

Seyde on Frenshe men and on Englys ; 

Frenche men synne yn lechery, 

And Englys men yn enuye. 

Handlyng 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 Grentle-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 merry IN : old times past when merry men [page 405] 

old days 

lived did merry makers ' make, 

no man did greater matters then 
Lancelot 4 then Lancelott of Dulake. 

du Lake, 

Robin Hood, good Robin hood 3 was liui[n]ge then, 

which now is quite fforgott, 
Ma y d & soe was ffaire Mayd Marryan, 

Marry an, J •> ' 

8 a pretty wench, god wott. 
raowtoiee* willi'am of Cloudeslee did dwell 

amongst the buckes & does, 
ciim of the Clim of the Cloughe & Adam Bell 

Clough, and . . . 

Adam Beii. 12 killed venison with their bowes. 

J hv i oll y throuffhe the wood these Iollye bowmen went, 

bowmen ° ^ ' 

huntc,1 > both ouer hill & dale, & dale & dale, 

vp & downe, vpp & downe, 
1 6 through many a parke & pale :U:$: 

1 ? MS. makers may be altered to in the MS.— F. 
matters.— F. 3 Thero is a tag to the d. — F. 

8 The first two lines are written as one 



IN OLDE TIMES PASTE. 



121 



The Maydens on the holydayes 

did countrey carrolls singe, 
& some did passe the time away 
20 with dancinge flbr the ringc. 

yea 20 groates was mony then 

wold make men make good cheere, 
& 20 nobles gentlemen 
24 might hue on all the yeere. 

William of Cloudeslee did dwell, &c. 



the maidens 
sang carols 



and danced, 

20 groats 
would make 
a feast, 



Then were there playes att whitsonty de, l 

& sommer games about ; 
then ffreind wi'th ffreind wold goe & ryde 
28 to driue the sommer out ; 

& after merry somrner time, 
then winter time came in ; 
then were as merry matters done 
32 when Christmas did begin. 2 
William, &c. 



and summer 
games were 
played. 



Winter was 
merry 

at Christmas 
too. 



Then did they chant itt merrilye 

w/th hunting in the wood, 
wherin they hound[s] mad such a crye 
3G as did the hearers good ; 

the hunters with their hunting homes 

did cause the woods to ringe : 
to see them pricke amongst the thornes, 
40 itt weere pastime ffor a kinge. 
William, &c. 



Then was it 
merry too in 
woods 

with cry of 
hounds 



and hunteis' 
horns. 



Sir Lancelott dulake, a-dew ! 

thou was a worthy Knight ; 
& eke maid Marryan sure & trew, 
44 good Robin Hoods delight. 



But now ! 

farewell 

Lancelot 

and Marian, 



1 Soo Strutt and "Brand on the Whit- 
son-ales &c. Strutt quotes Sir Brvis: 



Iu soiuor at Whitsontyde, 



When kni^htos most on horsebacke 

ride, &c. — F. 
2 MS. begim.— P. 



122 

Clowdeslee, 



Clim and 
Adam. 



The world 

changed. 

Pleasure 

tinned to 
spite. 



48 



52 



IN OLDE TIMES PASTE. 

will/am of Cloudeslee, ffarewell, 

with thy companyons old, 
Clim of the Clough, & Adam Bell, 

three bowemen braue & bold ! l 
for now the world is altered quite, 

as itt had neuer beene ; 
for plesure now is turned to spite ; 

the like was neuer seene. 



Men are 

misers ; 

the rich 
don't hunt, 



men don't 
shoot. 



Sure, the 
old time 
was best. 



May God 
send us 
good bow- 
men again ! 



More sparinge for a pennye nowe 

then then was for a pound ; 
rich men, alas, they know not how 
56 to keepe ne hawke nor hound, 
all merriments are quite fforgott, 

& bowes are laid aside ; 
all is to litle now, god wott, 
CO to maintaine wordlye pryde. 
where I began, there will I end, 

the old time sure was best ; 
vnless that misers quicklye mend, 
64 old mirth may take his rest. 

pray wee then good bowmen may rise, 
as hath beene here to-ffore, 
to-ffore, to-ffore, 
68 to maintaine, to Maintaine, 

& make our mirth the more, 

the more, the more. ffillis. 



1 Should " William, &c," be repeated 
here, and the next, four lines belong to 
the next stanza? Or are four lines 
wanting after 1. 52, and the last two 



stanzas in reality one of sixteen lines, 
counting the repeats to-ffore, the more 
with the lines preceding them? — Skeat. 



123 



JDailtfstome Cell: 1 r^^] 

This song was printed by Percy in bis Reliques, ii. 343, with 
Bishop Corbet's " 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 mad- 
ness 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 

DO 

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 mc proof and precedent 
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices, 
Stick in their nurab'd and mortify'd bare arms 
pricks, noils, sprigs of rosemary; 
And, with this horrible object, from low farms, 
Poor pi liin ! . shi , p-cotes, and mills, 

Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayer, 
Inforce their charity. 

In Dekker's Bell/mam of London, 1616, till the different species of 

;ars are enumerated. Amongst the rest are mentioned Tom of 

Bedlam's band of mad caps, otherwise called Poor Tom's floek of wild 

. . and those wild geese, or hair brains, are called Abraham men. 

An Abraham man is afterwards described in this manner: " Of all 

1 Thai common old song of Mad-tom. Collated with a copy in a 12° collection of 
Bongs printed by Boreman, 17 ; jo. 1'. 



124 DARKESOME CELL. 

the mad rascals (that are of this wing), the Abraham man is the 
most fantastick. 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 tune 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 ^ FORTH : ffrom my sadd & darksome 1 cell, 

JfomJback ffrom 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. 

ffeare & dispayre pursue 5 my soule ! 
Se FnSea harke how the angry ffuryes howle ! 

Pluto laughes, proserepine 6 is gladd 
8 to see poore naked Tom of Bedlam madd. 

1 dark and dismal.— P. 5 Fears and cares oppress &c— P. 

2 Or from.— P. There is a flourish like an s to the e of 

3 to view. — P. '' cure. — P. pursue. — F. G & Proserp™-. — P. 



DARKESOME CELL. 



125 



12 



16 



20 



24 



through woods ' I wander night and day 
to seeke 2 my stragling sences ; 

In an angrye mood I ffound out time 3 
with his Pentarchye 4 of tenses. 

when mee he spyes, away hce fflyes ; 

time 5 will stay ffor no man ; 
In vaine with cryes hee rends 6 the skyes, 

pitty 7 is not common. 

Cold & comfortlesse I lye. 8 
helpe, 9 oh helpe ! or else I dye. 

harke ! I heerc Appolloes teeme, 

the Carman 'gins to whistle ; 
Chast Dyana bends her browe, 10 

11 the bore begins to bristle. 

Come, vulcan, with tooles & with takells, 12 
& knocke of my troublesome shakells ! 
bid Charles make ready his waine 
to ffeitch my fiiue sences 



13 



againe. 



he wanders 
about, 
seeking his 

senses. 



He lies 
comfortless. 



Last night I heard the dogstar barke, 
28 Mars mett venus in the darke ; 

Limping vulcan heates 14 an Iron barr, 
& ffuxyouslye runs 15 att the god of warr. 

Mars with his weapons 16 layd about, 
32 but vulcans temples had 17 they gout, 

ifor his broad homes did hang soe in I8 his light 
that hee cold not see to aime arright. 19 



Vulcan 
knocks off 
his 
shackles ! 



He hears the 
dogstar 
bark ; 

he sees 
Vulcan and 
Mars fight, 



1 the world. —P. 

* find.— P. 

8 I met old Time.— P. 
1 pentateuch. — P. 

5 Fur time. — P. 

6 I rend, qu. — P. I rent. — Bel. 

7 Tor pity. — P. 

• I be.— P. 

■ Help, help&c— P. 
"' bowe.— P. 



" And.— P. 

12 tackle, qu. — P. 

13 Cp. "Bless thy five wits." King Lear, 
iii. 4.— Dyce. To bring me my senses &c. 
—P. 

'•* heat.— P. het.— Bel. 

15 made. — P. IS weapon. — P. 

17 limping V: had got. — P. 

1H his broad horns did so hang in. — P. 

19 aim bis blows aright. — P. 



126 



DARKESOME CELL. 



ami 
Bacchus 

burst with 



Mercurye, the nimble post of keauen, 
36 stayd to see this quarrell. 1 

gorreld-bellyed Bacchus, gyant-like 
bestryds a strong beere barrell : 



drinking 
beer. 



Poor Tom is 
very dry. 
Give him 
drink. 



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. 

poore naked Tom is verry 3 clrye ; 
44 a litle drinke, if or charity e ! 



He hears 
Action's 
hounds. 



hearke ! I heare Acteons hounds. 4 

the huntsmen woopp and hallowe ; 
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 ffire the bush att his backe. 

ffinis. 



1 Stood still ... the q 1 . —P. 

2 The words included in these 
brackets are omitted in the printed 
copies. — P. 

3 Pore torn is very. — P. 



4 home. — lv !. 

5 Rock-wood, Jowler, Bowman. — P. 

6 salted. See Babees Book Index. — f 

7 hut.— P. 

8 of nialaga. — P. 



12\ 



iHarfte more ffoole: 

More here is probably a corruption of Morio (a word con- 
nected with the Greek ficopos), " homo," says Facciolati, " qui 
naturali stoliditate et stultitia risum excitat." " Quidam," says 
Augustine in his 26th epistle, "tantge sunt fatuitatis ut non 
multum a pecoribus differant; quos moriones vulgo vocant." 
^Vith. regard to its use here of the cap-and-belled fool of the 
sixteenth century, compare the following epigram of Martial 
(viii. 13) : 

Morio dictus erat ; viginti 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. 



10 : passe the time there as l 1 went, 
a history there I chanced 2 to reede ; 
when as Salamon raigned K/7/7, When 

Solomon 

4 he did many a worthie deede, was King 

1 whereas.— P. * MS. changed. — F. 



128 



MARKE MORE FOOLE. 



it was 
felony not 
to restore to 
the owner 
goods found. 



& many statutes hee caused to be made ; 

& this was one l amongst the rest plaine, 2 
" itt was ffelomy to any one that found ought was 
lost, 

& wold not restore itt to the owner againe." 



A merchant 



lost his 
purse with 
100/. in it, 



and offered 
20/. for its 
restoration. 



Soe then there was a rich Merchant, 

as be rode to a markett towne, 
itt was his chance to lose his pursse ; 
12 he said there was in itt a 100\'. 
a proclamation he caused to be made, 

" whosoeuer cold find the same againe, 
sbold giue itt him againe without all doubt, 
16 & bee shold have ffor 20" his paine." 



A poor man 



finds the 
purse, 



but doesn't 
understand 
the gold. 



Soe then there was a silly poore man [page 407 ] 

bad 2 sheepes pells vpon his backe to sell, 
& going to the Markett towne 
20 hee ffound the pursse, & liked itt well ; 
hee tooke itt vp 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 mer- 
chant 

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," quoth he then, 
" I thinke itt is thou that has found my pursse, 
28 & wilt thou not giue itt me againe ? " 

" 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. 

2 among them plain. — P. 

3 eftsoon. — P. 



* I don't find this word elsewhere in 
the same sense. — P. 



MAEKE MORE FOOLE. 



129 



he had 120?. 
in his purse, 



" Let me see wliats in the pursse," said the Merchant; The mer- 
chant says 
" Found thou a 100 1 . 1 and no more ? 

thou horeson villaine ! thou hast paid thy-selfe ; 

36 for in my pursse was ffull sixe score. 

itts best my pursse to me thou restore, 

or before the Kim/ thou shalt be brought." andhe'ii 

, take the 

"I warrant," umith lice, "when I come the Kvnq poor man 

^ before the 

before, King. 

40 heele not reward me againe with nought." 



Then they Ledd him towards the Kinge, 

& as they led him on the way, 
& there mett him a gallant Kmght, 
44 & with him was his Ladye gay. 

With tugging & lugging this pore man, 

his lether sekins J began to cracke ; 
the gelding was wanton they Ladye rode on, 
48 & threw her downe beside his backe. 



On their 
road to the 
King, 

a knight 
and his lady 
meet them. 

The poor 
man's sheep- 
skins crack, 

the lady's 
gelding 
throws her 



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 ; 
52 on a stubb shee dang out one of her eyen. 
the Knight wold needs vpon 2 him haue beene. 

" nay," sayd the Merchant, " I pray you, Sir, 
stay ; 
I haue a actyon against him alreadye ; 
56 he slialbe 3 brought to the King, & hangd this 
day." 

Then they Ledd him towards the Kmg, 

but the poreman liked not their Leading well ; 
& coming neere to the sea side, 
6(> be thought to bo drowned or saue him selfe. 



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 



ins. — P. 
2 Cp. our "I'll be down upon you." 

VOL. III. 



3 There is a b followed by a letter 
1 'lotted out, after be. — F. 



130 



MAItKE MORE FOOLE. 



himself 
leaps into 
the sea, 
that is, on 
two fisher- 
men, 

and breaks 
one's neck. 



64 



& as hee lope into the sea, 

no harme to no man he did wott, 
but there hee light vpon 2 ffisher-men ; 

w-ith the leape he broke one of their neckes in a 
boate. 



The other 
wants to be 
down on the 
poor man 
for this. 



They go 
before the 
King. 

The mer- 
chant says 



he lost a 
purse 
of 120?. 

and the 
poor man 
won't give 
it up except 
for 20?. 
The knight 
says the man 



made his 
lady lose one 
of her eyes. 



And the 
fisher 
says the 



man broke 
his brother's 
neck. 



The other wold needs vpon him haue beene. 

" nay," said the Merchant, " I pray thee now stay ; 
we haue 2 actyons against him alreadye ; 
68 he shalbe carry ed to the 'King & hangd this day." 
then they Led him bound before the King, 

where he sate in a gallerye gay. 
"my Leege," said the Marchant, " wee haue brought 
such a villane 
72 as came not before you this many a day. 

" ffor itt was my chance to loose my pursse, 

& in itt there was ffull sixe score * ; 
& now the villaine will not giue itt me againe 
76 except that hee had 20'.' more." 

" I kut 2 I have a worsse mache then that," sayd the 
Knight, 
" for I know not what the villaine did meane ; 
he caused my gelding to cast my Ladye ; 
80 on a stubb shee hath dang out one of her eyen." 

" But I Lave the worst match of all," sayd the ffisher, 

" ffor I may sighe & say god wott : 
hee lope att mee & my brother vpon the seas ; 
84 with the leape he hath broken my brothers neck 
in a bote." 
the King hee turned him round about, 
being well aduised of euery thinge : 
Qwoth he, "neuer since I can remember, 
88 came 3 such matterrs since I was Kinge. 3 " 



' pounds six score. — P. 

2 ? MS. hut. Cut, say. Hall.— F. 



3 before a king. — P. 



MARKE MORE FOOLE. 131 

Then Marke More, ffoole, beinge by, Marke, the 

fool «isks 

"how now, Brother Solomon ?" then q?(.oth hee, soiomonto 

let him 

" gine yon will not giue iudgment of these 3 matters, judge these 

CtlUSGS. 

92 I pray you returne them * ore to mee." 

"with all my hart," quoth. Salomon to him, Solomon 

agrees 

" take you the iudgment of them as yett ; gladly. 

ffor neuer came matters me before, 
96 /I 'it ffainer of I wold be quitt." 

"Well," q^oth Marke, "wee haue these 3 men [ P age408] 
heere, 
& euery one hath put vp a bill ; g Marke 

, , i • j i i calls on the 

but, pore man, come hitlier to me, p00 r man 

100 lets heare what tale thou canst tell for thy selfe." answers, 
"why, my Lore?," qwoth hee, "as touching this He says 

"Themer- 

Mercnant, chant 

as he rode to a markett towne 
itt was his chance to loose his pursse ; lost his woi. 

purse, 

104 he said there was in itt a 100" 



" A proclamatyon he caused to be made, and offered 

' whosoeuer cold find the same againe plaine, 
shold giue itt him againe without all doubt, 

108 & hee shold haue 20 1 ' ffor his paine.' 20/. reward 

& itt was my chance to fiind that pursse, i°found it, 

& gladlye to him I wold itt restore ; offer it him, 
but now hee wold reward mee with nothinge, 

112 but Challengheth 2 in his pursse 20V more." and he asks 

me for 201. 



" Hast thou any wittnesse of that ? " said my hord 
Marke ; 
" I pray thee, fellow, tell me round." 
" yes, my Lord, heres his owne man His own 

m 1 Ti is 

116 thai c;iiryed the Message ffrom towne to towne." witness!" 

1 you turn them. — P. 2 The heth in the MS. appears crossed out. — F. 

k2 



132 



MARKE MORE FOOLE. 



The mer- 
chant's man 
says that's 
true. 



" Then," 
said Marke, 



" the poor 
man shall 
keep this 
purse, 



and you 
shall follow 
him till you 
find 
another." 



the man was called before thern all, 

& said itt was a 100" plaine, 
& that his master wold giue 20V 
120 to any wold giue him his pursse againe. 

"I had fforgotten 20! 1 ," said the Merchant, 

" gine me leaue ffor my selfe to say." 
"nay," said Marke, "thou Chalengeth 1 more then 
thine owne ; 
124 therfore with the pore fell owe the pursse shall 
stay. 
& this shall bee my iudgment straight : 

thou shalt ffollow eche day by the heeles playne 
till thou haue ffound such another pursse with him, 
128 & then keepe itt thy selfe, & neere giue itt him 



againe. 



" I'd sooner 
give him 20/. 
than do 
that," says 
the mer- 
chant. 
" Pay the 
money then, 
and go." 



" As to the 

knight," 
says the 
poor man, 



" he and the 
merchant 
made 
my skins 
rattle, 



" Marry, ouer gods fforbott," said the Merchant, 

" that euer soe badd shold be my share ! 
how shokl I ffind a 100'; of him 
132 that hath not a 100 pence to loose 2 ? 
rather He giue him 20 1 . 1 more, 

& with that hee hath, lett him stay." 3 
" Marry, render vs downe the money," said Marke, 
136 " soe may thou chance goe quietlye away." 

" ifellow ! how hinderedst thou the Knight ? 

thou must make him amends here, I meane ; 
itts against Law & right ; 
140 his Ladye, shee hath lost one of her eyen." 

" why, my hord, 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, — P. 

make title vnto. Cotgrave. — F. * For trattle, Halliwoll gives to prattle 

2 spare. — P. or talk idly : for trattlis, the clung of 
* And what he hath let with him stay. sheep, hares, &c, — F. 



MARKE MORE FOOLE. 



133 



i * » The gelding was wanton the Lady rode vpon,- 

no hurt in the world, nry Lord, I did meane, — 
to the ground he cast that Ladye there, 
148 & on a stub shee dang out one of her eyen." 

" ffellow," quoth Marke, " hast 2 thy wiffe 2 eyes ? 

I pray thee," quoth hee, " tell me then." 
" yes, my Lore?, a good honest pore woman, 
152 that for her liuinge takes great paine." 



frightened 

the lady's 

horse, 

and he threw 

her on a 

stub." 



" Has your 
wife two 
eyes ? " 



" Yes." 



" Why then, this shalbe my iudgment straight, 

tho thou perhapps may thinke itt strange : 
thy wiffe with 2 eyes, his Ladye hath but one, 
156 as thou hast drest her, with him thoust change." 
" marry ouer gods flforbott," then sayd the Knight, 

" that euer soe badd shold be my shame ; 
I had rather giue him a 100'* 
160 then to be trobled with his dunish 3 dame." 



" Then the 
knight 
shall change 
wives." 

" I'd sooner 
give him 
100?." says 
the knight. 



" Pay down 
your money 
and go." 



IC„s 



" Marry ! tender vs downe the mony," said Marke, 

" soe may thou be gone within a while." 

but the ffisher ffor feare he shold have beene called, The fisher- 
man is 

he ran away a quarter of a mile. alarmed, 

J l and runs off, 

" I pray you call him againe," qwoth Marke, 

" giffe hee bee within sight ; 
for neuer came matter me before, 

but euerye man shold hauc his right." 



but is called 
back, 



They called the ffisher backe againe : 

"bow now, fellow ? why didst not stay ? " 
"my Lo/v/," quoth hee, " I hauc a great way home, and makes 

& fiaine I wold be gone my way." 



excuses 



' (Margined note by the writer of the 
M8). This verse Bhold come in att 
this * mark aboue [which is where it 



now is — F.] 
- hath.— P. 
3 ? dunny, deaf, stupid. Halliwell. — F. 



134 



MARKE MORE FOOLE. 



" As to the 
fisherman," 
says the poor 
man, 
" to save 
myself, I 

leapt into 
the sea, 



but 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, how hinderedst thou this ffisher ? 

I pray thee," quoth. Marke, "to vs tell." 
"my hord, as I came neere the sea syde, 
176 I thought either to be drowned or saue my selfe. 

" And as I lope into the sea, — 

no harnie to no mann I did wott, — 

there I light vpon this ffishers brother ; 

180 w-ith a leape I broke his necke in a boate." 

"ffisher," quoth Marke, " knowest thou where the 
boate stood ? 
thoust sett her againe in the selfe same steade, 
& thoust leape att him as he did att thy brother, 
184 & soe thou may quitt thy brothers cleede. 1 " 



li And break 
my neck, or 
be drowned," 
says the 
fisherman : 
"I'd rather 
give him 
20/." 

" Pay down 
the money, 
and go 
then." 



The poor 
man takes 
all the 
money, and 
say b 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. 



" 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 He giue him 2 Of : 

& 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 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 Kmgr 
200 while hee was in companye with marke his 
brother. 



1 d.ad.— P. death.— F. 



135 



Though 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 Vere de 
Vere " had been written centuries ago, we may be sure that some 
male predecessor of Elizabeth Barrett Browning would have 
answered it with " A Poet's Wooing," suited to the time. In- 
deed, 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 promoeyon resort to such as ye may lake avauwtage, 
Ami tylme« for rewardes, to gentylwomew for marriage. 

Se your >y be imlyfferent, amonge womeD that be fayre, 

I t. 11 i hem storyes of lone, and so to you they wyll repayre; 
Suche pastymes somtymi doth many men auaunce 
In ua\ ofmaryage, and your good Dame it wylenhaunce: 

and no doubt in earlier days good-looking young serving-men 

1 Shewing how be won Lord Arundel's Vol. i. p. 189, 12° iutitled The Lover's 
Daughter from Lord Phoenix, being only Quarrel or CupicPs Triumph, — P. 
a serving Man. Jn Pepys' Merrim?, 



136 THOMAS OP 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 Leame (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, saying : 

what ? fy ! schold i a fundeling ' for his fairenesse tak ? 
nay, my wille wol nou3t a-sent ■ to my wicked hert. 
wel kud kinges & kaysers ■ krauen me i-now ; 
I nel leie mi loue so low ■ now at J>is time; 
desparaged were i disgisili ■ 311 i dede in bis wise ; 
I wol breke out fram bat barot ' & 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 some- 
times secure their ladies, notwithstanding " 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 horsse, — for him you doe giffe I be out of my saddle cast, 

not care, — they beene soe wild thcyle neuer be 

this day wold sett my Lady ffree, tane againe. 

that is a white, with a cutt tayle, lett me haue age sober & wise ; 

ffull 16 yeeres of age is heo. . . itt is a purrt of wisdome, you know 

Master, those [better young'] horsses ittplaine; 

beene wild and wicked, if I bo out of my sadlo cast , 

& litle they can skill of the old traine ; heele either stand .still or turne againe. 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 



137 



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 : 

Up send ffor thy father, the. Lord of Arrundale, 

& marry ed together I will you see. 
giffe hee will [not] maintains 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 jour old louo for no new, 
nor neuer change for no pouertye. — F. 



12 



16 



20 



ALL : you Lords of Scottland ffaire, 
& ladyes alsoe bright of blee ; 

there is a ladye amongst them all, 
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, 
his heyre apparraut ffor to bee. 

" Ee see that bryde," ~Lord Phenix sayes, 
" tltnt is a Ladye of bye degree, 

& iff I like her countenance well, 

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 ! 
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, 
& I haue ;i lone in mine ownc countrye. 



Lords and 
Ladies of 
Scotland, 

I'll tell you 
of a fair 
Lad}', 



Lord 

Arundel's 

heir. 



Lord Phenix 



offers to 
marry her. 



She tells 
him that 



she lias a 
lover, 



138 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 



a serving- 
man, 



Thomas a 
Pott. 



Lord Phenix 
says he 



has 40?. to 
Thomas's 3?. 



" I haue a loner true of mine l owne, 
a servinge man of a small degree ; 
he is the ffirst lone that ener I had, 
24 & the last that hee shalbee : 
Thomas a Pott, itt is his name." 

" gine Thomas a Pott then he his name, 
I wott I ken him soe readilye ; 
28 I can spend 40'.' by weeke, 

& hee cannott spend pounds 3." 



The Lady 
says she'll 



stick to 
Thomas. 



" god giue you good of yo«r gold," said the Ladye, 
" and alsoe, Sir, of jour ffee ! 
32 hee was the ffirst loue that euer I had, 
& the Last, Sir, shall hee hee." 



Lord Phenix 



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. 



With that Lord Phenix was sore amoued ; 
vnto 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 hord Phenix bryde. 



But she 
means 
to beguile 
him. 



with that the Lady began to muse — 

a greeued woman, god wott, was shee — 
48 how shee might hord Phenix beguile, 

& scape vnmarryed ffrom him that day. 



1 MS. nine.— F. 



2 There is a mark like an undottcd 
in the MS. before they. — F. 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 



139 



52 



shee called to her her litle ffoote page ; 

to Iacke her boy, soe tenderlye 
sayes, " come thou hither, thou litle ffoote page, 

for indeed I dare trust none but thee. 



She tells her 
page, Jack, 



" to Strawberry castle, boy, thou must goe, 
to Thomas Pott there as hee can bee, 
50 & 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. 



to take a 
letter to 
Thomas, 



" for if he blush in his fface, 

then in his hart heese * sorry bee. 
64 Then lett my ffather say what hee will, 
for false to Potts He neuer bee. 



[page 410] 



and if he 
blushes, 
then he'll 
be sorry, 



and she'll be 
true to him ; 



" & giue hee smile then wt'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." 



if he smiles, 



then she'll 
give him up. 



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 ; 



The boy 



goes to 

Thomas, 



76 



then he gaue him this letter ffaire. 

& when he began then for to reade, 
tiny 2 boy had told him by word of mouth 

' his loue must be the Lord Phenix bryde. 



gives him 

the letter, 



and tells 
him his 
love must 
marry Lord 
Phenix. 



1 beese, i.e. he will be, or must be. — P. 



'-' the.— P. 



140 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 



Thomas 
blushes, 
weeps, 

cannot read 
the letter, 



80 



with that, Thomas a Pott began to blushe 
the teares trickeled in his eye : 

" indeed this letter I cannot 1 reede, 
nor neuer a word to see or spye ; 



but bids the 
boy tell his 
Lady 



" I pray thee, boy, to me thonle be trew, 
& heers 5 marke I will gine thee ; 
84 & all these words thou must pursue, 
& tell thy Lady this ffroni mee : 



that Lord 
Phenix 



shall not 
marry her ; 



" tell her by ffaith & troth shee is mine owne, 
by some part of promise, & soe itts be found, 
88 hord Phenix shall neuer marry her by night nor day 
without he can winn her with his hand. 



he'll lose his 
life to stop 
it. 



" on Gilford greene I will her meete, 
& bidd that Ladye ffor mee pray ; 
92 for there He Loose my liffe soe sweete 
or else the wedding I will stay." 



The boy goes 
back. 



The Lady 
meets him, 



then backe againe the boy he went 
as ffast againe as he cold hye. 
96 the Ladye mett him 5 mile on the way : 

" why hast thou stayd soe long ? " saies shee. 



100 



" boy," said the Ladye, " thou art but younge ; 

to please my mind thoule mocke and scorne ; 
I will not beleeue thee on word of mouth 

vnlesse on this booke thou wilt be sworne." 



and he tells 
her 



how Thomas 
cried. 



104 



" marry, by this booke," the boy can say, 
" as Christ himselfe be true to mee, 

Thomas Pott cold not his letter reade 
for teares trickling in his eye." 



1 MS. camot.— F. 



108 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 

" if this be true," the Ladye sayd, 
" thou Bonny boy, thou tells to mee, 

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 mower of all his kinn, 

ffor they 2 ~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 LorcZ & master came hee. 

& when hee came Loro" 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 " S/r, 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." 



141 

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, 



n ii*l trllsliim 
that he is 
like to 
lose his lovo 
through his 
poverty. 



' MS. wim.- F. 

2 the.— P. 

3 The next stanza 1ml one is written 



in the MS. between lines 131, 132, but 
marked bya bracket, and by Percy, to go 

in its proper place. — F. 



142 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 



Lord Jockye 

says 



" Tou shan't 
lose her : 



you shall 
have 
gold and 
silver, 



136 



when ~Lord Iockye looked the letter vpon, 
the tender words in itt cold bee : 

" Thomas Pott, take thon no care, 

thoust nener loose her throughe pouertye. 



" thou shalt have 40 1 . 1 a weeke, 
in gold & siluer thou shalt rowe, 1 
140 & Harbye towne I will thee all owe 

as longe as thou dost meane to wooe 



40 men, 

and 40 horse, 



and I'll go 
with you." 



" thou shalt haue 40'? e of thy ffellowes ffaire, 
& 40 horsse to goe with thee, 
144 & 40 speares of the best I haue, 

& I my-selfe in thy companye. 2 " 



Thomas 
declines the 
offer. 



"I thanke you, Master," sayd Thomas Pott, 
" neither man nor boy shall goe with niee ; 
148 I wold not ffor a 1000V [page4ii] 

take one man in my companye." 



Lord Jockye 
advises him 



152 



" why then, god be with thee, Thomas Pott ! 

thou art well knowen & proued for a man ; 
Looke thou shedd no guiltlesse bloode, 

nor neuer confound no gentlman ; 



to fix a place 
to fight his 
rival, 



and he'll 
provide for 
him. 

Thomas goes 
to 



Lord Phenix 
and Lady 
Eosamond, 



" but looke thou take with him some truce, 
apoint a place of lybertye ; 
156 lett him provide as well as hee cann, 
& as well provided thou shalt bee." 

& when Thomas Pott came to Gilford greene, 
& walked there a litle beside, 
160 then was hee ware of the Lord Phenix, 

& with him Ladye Rozamund his bryde. 



1 row, i.e. roll. Soo Gloss, ad G. 
Douglas. So Page 21-20. Thretty lang 
twelf monthis rowing over, i.e. rolling 



over. — P. 

2 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 



143 



164 



away by the bryde rode Thomas of Pott, 
but noe word to her tliat he did say ; 

but when he came ~Lord Phenix before, 
he gaue him the right time of the day. 



" thou art welcome, Thorn as a Potts ! 
thou serving man, welcome to mee ! 
168 how ffares they Lord & Master att home, 
& all the Ladyes in thy cuntrye ? " 



and gives 
Lord Phenix 
the time 
o' day. 



Lord riienix 
asks 



how 

Thomas's 
master is. 



" Sir, my LorcZ & my Master is in verry good health ; "Very well 
I wott I ken itt soe readylye. 
172 I pray you, will you ryde to one outsyde, 1 
a word or towe to talke with mee." 



"you are a Nobleman," sayd Thomas a Potts, 
" yee are a borne Lore? in Scottland ffree ; 
176 you may gett Ladyes enowe att home ; 

you shall neuer take my loue ffrom mee ! " 

" away, away, thou Thomas a Potts ! 
thou seruing man, stand thou a- side ! 
180 I wott theres not a serving man this day, 
I know, can hinder mee of my bryde." 



But let me 
have a word 
with you. 



You are a 
Lord, 

and can get 
ladies at 
home. 
You shan't 
have my 
love. 



" If I be but a seruing man," sayd Thomas, 
" & you are a Lord of honor ffree, 
184 a speare or 2 lie w/th you runn, 

before lie loose her thus cowardlye." 



I'll fight you 
for her." 



"on Gilford fn-cene," liorcl Yhenix saies, "lie thee Lord Phenix 

° accepts the 



meete ; 
neither man nor boy shall come hither w/th mee." 
188 " & as I am a man," said Thomas a Pott, 
" He haue as ffew in my companye." 



fight ; 



' i.e. on uiie side : the expression is still used in Northamptonshire. — P. 



144 



TnOMAS OF POTTE. 



and the 
wedding is 
put off. 

Rosamond 
is glad, 



192 



With that the wedding-day was stayd, 
the bryde went vnmarryed home againe 

then to her maydens ffast shee loughe, 
& in her hart shee was ffull ffaine. 



and says 
she'll 



pray for 
Thomas, 



and if he 
wins, 



will make 
him Lord 
Arundel. 



" but all my mayds," they Ladye sayd, 
" that this day doe waite on mee, 
196 wee will ffall downe againe vpon our knees, 
for Thomas a Potts now pray will wee. 

" if his ffortune be ffor to winn, — 
weele pray to Christ in Trynitye, — 
200 He make him the mower of all his kinn, 
for the Lore? of Arrundale he shalbe." 



[The Second Part.] 



Thomas goes 
home again, 



and falls 
sick. 



204 



2'\ parte < 



208 



"now let vs leaue talking of this Lady fayre, 
in her prayers good where shee can bee ; 

He tell you the troth how Thomas a Potts 
for aide to his Lord againe came l hee. 

& when he came to strawberry castle, 

to try ffor his Ladye he had but one weeke ; 

alacke, ffor sorrow hee cannott fforbeare, 
for 4 clayes then he ffell sicke. 



Lord Jockye 
asks whether 



he has got his 
love. 



with that his Lore? & 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. 



2 maun, i.e. must. — P. 



THOMAS OV rOTTE. 



145 



" marry, master, yett that matter is vntryde ; 

within 2 dayes tryed itt must bee. 
216 he is a Lord!, & I am but a seruing man : 

I doubt I must loose her through pouertyc." 
"why, Thomas a Pott, take thou no care ; 

tboust neuer loose her through pouertye ; 



" That'll be 
settled in 
tWO day 3, 

and T shall 
lose her from 
poverty." 

"No, 

Thomas, 



220 " thou shalt hauc halfe my Land a yeere, 
& that will raise thee many a pound ; 
before thou shalt loose thy bonny ladye, 

thou shalt drop angells with him to the ground. 1 

224 " & thou shalt haue 40 of thy ffellowes fi'aire, 
& 40 horsses to goe with thee, 
& 40 speres of the best I haue, 
& I my-selfe in thy companye." 

228 " I thanke you, Master," sayd Thomas a Potts, 
"but of one thinge, Sir, I wold be ffaine ; 
If I shold loose my bonny 2 Ladye, 

how shall I increase yowr goods againe ? " 



I'll lend you 

half 

my land, 



and 40 men 
and horses, 



and go with, 
you myself, 



•232 " why, if thou winn thy Lady ffaire, 

thou maye well fforth for to pay mee ; 
if thou loose thy Lady, thou hast losse enoughe ; 
not one penny I will aske thee." 

236 " Master, you haue '■><> horsses in one hold, [page412] 
you keepe them ranke and royallye ; 
theres an old horsse, — for him you doe not care, — 
this day wold sett my Lady ffiree, 

240 " that is a white, with a cutt fcayle, 
Hull 16 yceres of age is hee ; 
giffe you wold lend me thai old horsse, 
then I shold gett her easilye." 



and never 
ask for a 
return if you 
lose." 



"If you'll 
lend nie your 
old docked 
horse, that's 
all 1 want." 



1 Cp. BessieoffBedna.il, vol ii. p. 284, 1. 104-24.— F. 
VOL. III. L 



MS. bomy.— F. 



146 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 



" Don't be 
foolish, 
Thomas ; 

have a 
better 
horse." 



244 "thou takes a ffoolish part," the honl lockye saycl, 
" & a ffoolish part thou takes on thee ; 
thou shalt haue a better the[n] euer he was, 
that 40" cost more nor bee." 



" None of 
your wild 
animals for 
me ; 1 want 



248 " Master, those horsses beene wild and wicked, 
& litle they can skill of the old traine ; 
giffe I he out of my saddle cast, 

they beene soe wild theyle neuer be tane againe. 



a sober one, 



that if I'm 
thrown will 
stand still." 



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 aQ-aine." 



" Take the 
old horse 
then, and 

100 men." 



256 " thou shalt haue that horsse with all my hart, 
& my cote plate of siluer ffree, 
& a 100? men att thy backe 
for to fight if neede shalbee." 



" No," says 
Thomas, 
" neither 
man nor boy, 



260 " I thauke 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 ; 



keep 'em all 
back." 



At Gilford 
Green 



Thomas finds 
Lord Phenix 
and men, 



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 green e I shall them see." 

268 & when Thomas came to Gilford greene 
& walked there some houres 3 ; 
then was he ware of the Jjord Phenix, 
and 4 men in his companye. 

272 "you haue broken jour vow," sayd Thomas a Pott, 
" yoitv vowe that you made vnto mee; 
you said you wold come jour selfe alone, 
& you haue brought more then 2 or o." 



THOMAS OF POTTK. 



147 



276 



280 



''these are nay waiting men," Lord Phenix sayd, 
" that euery day doe waite on mee ; 

giffe any of these shold art vs stirr, 

my speare sliold runn throwe his bodye." 

" He runn noe race," said Thomas Potts, 
" till that this othe heere made may bee : 

1 if the one of vs be slaine, 

the other fforgiuen that hee may bee.' ' 



init they are 
only his 
waiting 
men, 



284 



and he vows 



"He make a vow," Lord Phenix sayes, 

" my men shall beare wittnesse with thee, 
giffe thou slay mee att this time, 

neuer the worsse beloued in Scottland thou shalt Thomas 
bee." 



they shall 
not hurt 



288 then they turned their horsses round about, 
to run ! the race more egarlye. 
Lord Phenix he was stiffe & stout, 

he has runn Thomas quite thorrow the thye, 

292 & beere Thomas out of his saddle ffaire ; 
vpon the ground there did hee lye. 
he saies, " for my liffe I doe not care, 
but ffor the loue of my Ladye. 

296 '• but shall I lose my Ladye ffaire ? 

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 a Thomas a Potts was a seruing man, 
he was alsoe a Phisityan good ; 
he clapt his hand vpon his wound ; 

svith some kind of words he stauncht the blood. 3 



Theycharge, 



and Lord 
Phenix 
runs Thomas 



through the 
thigh, and 
grounds 
him. 



Thomas says 



he'llfight on. 



He 

staunches 
his wound, 



1 MS. rum. !•'. 

- Though.— P. 

3 The notes to Brand's Popular Anti- 
quities, ii. 167, ed. 1841, give (from the 
Athenian Oracle, i. 158) this charm to 
Htop bleeding at the nose and ;ill other 
haemorrhages : 



In the blood of Adam, Sin was taken, 
In the blond of Christ it was all to- 
shaken. 
And by the same blood I do thee charge, 
That tile blood of [Thomas Potts] rim no 
longer at large. — F. 



L 2 



148 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 



charges Lord 
Phenix, 



runs him 

through the 

«rm, 



304 then into his sadle againe hee leepe, 

the blood in his body began to warme ; 
he mist hord Phenix bodye there, 

but he run him quite throw thebrawne of the arrne, 



unhorses 
him, 



and says 
" fight on, 
or give up 
my Lady." 



Lord Phenix 
says he can't 
fight, 



308 & he bore him quite out of his saddle ffaire, 
vpon the ground there did he lye ; 
he said, " I pray thee, hord Phenix, rise & flight, 
or else yeeld this Ladye sweete to mee." 

312 "to ffight with thee,"q-woth Phenix, "I cannott stand; 
nor ffor to flight, I cannott, sure ; 
thou hast run me through the brawne of the arme ; 
noe longer of thy spere I cannott endure, 



and he'll give 
up the Lady. 



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." 



[page 413] 
Then 
Thomas 



320 " Why then, be of good cheere," saies Thomas Pott, 
" indeed, your bucher He neuer bee, 
for lie come & stanche jour bloode, 
giff any thankes youle giue to mee." 



staunches 
Lord 
Phenix's 
wound, 
and offers 
him another 
chance : 



324 as he was stanching 1 the Phenix blood, 

these words Thomas a Pott cann to him proue, 2 
" He neuer take a Ladye of you thus, 
but here He giue you another choice : 



to let 
Rosamond 
stand 
between 
them and 
take which 
she likes. 



328 " heere is a lane of 2 miles longe ; 
att either end sett wee will bee ; 
the Ladye shall sitt vs between e, 

& soe will wee sett this Ladye ffree." 



1 MS. stamching. — F. 



praie. 



-F. 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 



149 



332 " if thoule doe soe," Lord Phenix sayes, 

" Thomas a Pott, as tliou dost tell mee ; 
whether I gett lier or goe without her, 
heeres 40'.' lie giue itt tliee." 

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 sliee went, 
to leape behind him hastilye ; 
" nay, abyde a while," sayd hord Phenix, 
" ffor better yett proned thou shalt bee : 

344 " thou shalt stay heere w/th all thy maids, — 
in number wtth thee thou hast but 3, — 
Thomas a Pott & lie goe beyond yonder wall, 
there the one of vs shall dye." 

348 & when they came beyond the wall, 
the one wold not the other nye ; 
Lord* Phenix he had giuen his word 
with Thomas a Pott neuer to flight. 

352 " giue me a Choice," hord 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 likcsome dame sayd hee, 
" now god thee saue, thou Ladye ffaire, 
the heyre of all my Land thoust bee ! 

360 " ffor this Thomas a Potts I haue Blaine. 

lie hath more then deadlye wounds 2 or 3 ; 
thou art mine ownc Ladye," he sayd, 
" & marryed together wee will bee." 



Lord Phenix 
accepts this 



and gives 
Thomas 40/. 

Rosamond 



chooses 
Thomas, 



and is going 
to him, 



when Lord 
Phenix tells 



her to stop, 



while 
Thomas 
and he fight 
to the death. 



TTe asks 
Thomas 



to let him 

prove her. 



He goes to 
her, tells her 



he has killed 
Thouuis, 



and she is 
now his. 



150 



THOMAS OF POTTE. 



Rosamond 
says she'll 



have him 
hanged, 

and then 
swoons. 



Lord Phenix 



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 
be 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 ; 
& He sell all the state of my Lande, 

but thoust be hanged on a gallow tree." 

368 with, that they Lady shee ffell in a soone, 
a greeued woman, I wott, was shee : 
Lore? Phenix hee was readye there, 
tooke her in his armes most hastilye ; 

372 " hord, sweete, 1 & stand on thy ffeete ! 

this day Thomas a Pott aliue can bee ; 
He send ffor thy father, the Loro" of Arrundale, 

& marryed together I will you see. 
376 giffe hee will you 2 main tain e you well, 

both gold and Land you shall haue from me." 

" He see that wedding," my hord of Arrundale said, 
" of my daughters loue that is soe ffaire ; 
380 & sith itt will no better be, 

of all my Land Thomas a Pott shall be my heyre." 

" now all my maids," the Ladye said, 
" & Ladyes of England, faire & ffree, 
384 looke you neuer change yo«r 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 He turne his name, 

& the hord of Arrundale hee shall bee." 
(finis. 



1 ( ) Lady sweete. — Dyce. 



2 fur not. V. 



3 MS. owme.-l'. 



151 



TOfllfam tl)f ConqtieromV 

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 satis- 
faction 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 Garland of Delight. Eyans prints 

The story of the Kentish-Men's pre- this ballad from the latter, but the for- 

Berving their liberties, 1066 Anno. Col- mer is a better authority. As Percy 

lat'il with a Copy in Popys's Collection says 'Strange Histories or Garland,' 

of Penny MerrimV, Vol. 3. p. 39. B. L. both here and inhisfirst note to the next 

In y t Strange Histi ries or Garland of poem, 1 think he may have seen some 

Delight. To the Tune of Rogero.- P. copy made up of the two Garlands. 

Strange Historiesie a dill' rent book from W. C. 



152 



WILLIAM THE C0NQUER0UR. 



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, 



he was 
crowned by 
the Arch- 
bishop of 
York ; 



punished his 
opponents, 



WHEN william duke of normandye [page4U] 

with glitering l speare & sheild 
had entered into 2 ffaire England, 
4 & told 3 his ffoes in ffeild, 

vpon christmas day, in soleme 4 sort, 

then was hee crowned heere 
by Albert, Archbishopp of yorke, 
8 & many a noble peere. 

which being done, he changed quite 

the customes of England,'' 
& punished 6 such as daylye sought 
12 his statutes to w/thstand. 



and subdued 
London, 



but Kent 
withstood 
him. 



& many cytyes hee subdued, 

ffaire London with the rest, 
but 7 then Kent did still withstand his power, 8 
16 & did his lawes detest. 



He went to 
Dover to 
destroy the 
castle, 



20 



to douer then he tooke the 9 way, 
the castle downe for 10 to flinge 

which Aueragus had * ! builded there, 
the noble Brittaine 12 Kino-e. 



hut theArch- 
bishop of 
Canterbury, 

the Abbot of 
St. Austin's, 



24 



but when 13 the braue Archbishopp bold 

of Canterbury knew, 
the Abbott of S) Austines eke, 

with all their gallant crew, 



1 glistering. — P. 

2 There's a w seemingly before the/. 



F. 

1 solemn.- I'. 



3 foil'd.— P. 

5 of this Land.— P. 



6 punisht. — P. 

8 force. — P. 
10 Del.— P. 
is British.— P. 



7 del.— P. 

9 his.— P. 

" del.- P. 

13 which when. 



WILLIAM THE CONQUEROUR. 



153 



the l sett themselues in order 2 bright, 

these mischeefes to preuent, 
w/th all the yeomen braue & bold 
28 that Avere in ffruitfull Kent. 



and the 
Kent Lsb 

yeomen 



att Canterbury they did 3 meete 

A'pon one certaine day, 
4 with sword, with sheild, with bill, with bow, 
32 to stopp 5 the conquerours Avay. 



met at 
Canterbury, 



" 6 let vs not liue like bondmen pore 

to ffrenchmen in their pryde, 
but lett vs 7 keepe our ancyent lybertyes, 
36 what chance soeuer tyde 8 ! 



and resolved 



" & rather lett vs 9 dye in bloody ffeild, 

with manly courage prest, 

then to endure the seruile yoke 

40 Av/a'ch wee thus much 10 detest ! " 



rot to 

submit. 



thus did the Kentish Commons crye 

vnto their leaders still, 
& then they marched 1 1 in AA'arlike sort, 
44 & stood att SAA T ansco 12 hill. 



They 

marched to 
Swanscomb 
Hill, 



& ATider a Avood 13 they hidd themselues, 

vnder tin \ shadow greene, 
wherby H to gett them vantage good 
48 of all their ffoes vnseene. 15 



hid in a 
wood , 



they.— P. 
armour. — P. 
did they.— P. 
sword & speur . 
Ami Stopt.— P. 
yeild like.— P. 
del.— P. 
so e'er betyde.— 
del.— P. 



& how.— P. 



p. 



10 so much. — P. 

11 Ami so march! forth. — P. 
'- Swanscomb. — P. 

13 There in the woods. — P. 
' Therby.— P. 

'■'' .And for y e conqt 8 coming there 
They privily laid wait, 
Ami therby suddenly appal'd 
his lofty high conceit. — P. 



154 



WILLIAM THE 00NQULI50UR. 



ami on 

William's 

approach 

inarched out, 
each carry- 
ing a bough. 



& when ' the spyed his approchc 
in place where they did stand, 
they marched fforth to liemm him in ; 
52 eche man tooke - a boAv 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 ffhll nye. 



and quakes 
for fear. 



The shape of men he cold not see, 

the bowes did hyde them soe ; 
& how 6 his hart did quake for feare 



60 to see a fforrest 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 fforth to the Large, 10 



William is 
aghast, 



11 wheratt this dreadfull Conquerour 

theratt was sore agazed, 12 
& most in perill when he thought 13 
72 all prills had beene past. 



For when as they did. — P. 
del. tooke. — P. 

Percy marks to come in here : 
So that up to the conquerors sight 

Amazed as he stood 
They soem'd to he a walking grove 
Or else a moving wood. — 1\ 
eye.— P. 
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 conqf with all his train 

Were hereat sore aghast. — P. 

12 aghast or agast. — P. 
18 they thought.— P. 



WILLIAM tiii: COXOrKROI'tt. 



155 



1 therfore vnto the Kentishmen 

an Embassadoure he sent, 
to know they 2 cause they tooke in band 
7G these warres, to what entent. 1 



and send- 



to ask what 
the Kc-uti-.lt 
men want. 



80 



to whom they made this short reply, "Our 

liberties, 

"ffor liberty weele ffip/ht, 3 and King 

And to enioy King Edwards the Confessors 4 Lawes [page 41s] 
w7</ch wee doe hold arrisht. 5 " law?." 



"why 6 then," said the dreadfull Conquerour, 

"you shall haue what you will ; 
jour liberty es, yoiir ancyent customes, 7 
84 soe that you wilbe still ; 



William 
agrees to 



" & eche thing else which you will craue 

with reason att my hands, 
soe that you will acknowledge me 
88 cheefe "King of ffaire England." 



give them 
all they ask, 



the Kentishmen therevpon agreed, 8 

& layd all 9 their armes asyde ; 
& by this meanes King Edwards lawes 
92 doe still in kent 10 abyde. 



and the 
Kentish men 
lay down 
their arms. 



96 



& in no place in England else 
such customes n doe remaine, 

as they by their manlike ,2 policye 
did of duke william gaine. 



ffinis. 



Thus Kent 
alone keeps 
its old 

customs. 



1-1 Unto the Kentishmen he sent 
The cause to understand 
For \vh?t intent & for what cause 
They took this war in hand.— P. 
2 the.— P. :| we fight.— P. 

1 del.— P. 
' our right. — P. 
u del. why. -P. 



7 Yowr ancient customs & your laws. 
— P. See note at the end of the volume. 
- F. 
H agreed thereon. — P. 
■' delend all— P. 
10 In Kent doo still.— P. 
" t hose Customs. — P. 
12 Which they by manly. — P. 



156 



CIk t ffiurinnfttg of Setters t&e t i : ftte Cln'Itirm : l 

"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, 



W HEN : as royall Kmg 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 

wrth flame & victorye, 
what t[i]me the suhiects of this Land 
8 receiued him ioyfullye. 



but left his 
children in 
France, — 



but att his home returne, 

his children left hee still 
in ifrance, ffor to soiourne 
12 to purchase learned skill. 



Duke 
William, 
Lord 
Kichard, 



Duke william with his brother dere, 

~Lord Richard was his name, 
who was the Erie of Chester then, 
16 w[ho] 5 thirsted after flame ; 



1 a.d. 1120. To the tune of The 
Ladies Daughter. This, as well as the 
foregoing, is an excellent ballad. Collated 
with a copy in Strange Histories or The 
Garland of Delight, 12"?°, Canto 3 d , B. 
L., in Pepys Collection of Penny Mer- 



rim**, vol. 3. p. 14— P. 

2 After our royl king. — P. 

3 honour. — P. 

4 Into fair England he return'd. 

5 and thirsted.— P. 



THE DROWNING OF IIENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN. 



157 



20 



the ~Kivgs ffaire daughter eke, 
the Lady Many bright, 

with diners noble peeres, 
& many a Lardy Knight ; 



Lady 
Mary,— 

with peers 

and knights. 



all these he left l together there, 

in pleasure 2 and delight, 
when that our ~King to England came 
24 after the bloody e 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 with one assent 5 

prepared all things meete 
to passe the seas into 6 fl'aire England, 
32 whose sight to them was sweete. 



the princes 



" 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 8 

in game and pleasant sort, 1 ' 
where Lady pleasure doth attend 
40 w/th many a princely sport." 



and enjoy 
themselves. 



1 were left. — P. 

2 pleasures. — P. 

s cold and sad. — P. 

* nigh.— P. 

5 Those princes all. 



cons[ent], — P. 



•> for.— P. 

» \Ict vs] del.— P. 

8 MS. tine.— F. 

u within our Father's court. 



158 THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN. 

They set sail, to seas ' these princes went, 

full ffraught 2 with mirth & ioy ; 
but all their merryment 3 
44 returned to greet 4 anoye. 



but the 
Bailors got 
drunk, 



for the say lor s & the shipmen, 5 

throughe ffoule excesse of wine, 
they were soe amazed that 6 on the sea 
48 they showed themselues like swine. 



no one could 
steer, 



and the ship 
went at 
random. 



The princes 



weep 
and fear, 



but at last 
see England 



the sterne 7 no man cold guide, 

the ~M.aster sleeping Lay, 
the saylors all beSyde 
52 went reeling euerye way, 

soe that the shipp att randome rode 

vpon the ffbminge filoode, 
wherby in pcrill of their hues 
56 these princes 8 alway stoode, 

which, caused distilling 9 teares 
from their faire eyes to ffall, 
their harts were filled w/th ffeare, 10 
60 No Ioy u they had att all, [page4i6] 

the wished themselues vpon the land 

1000 times and more ; 
then att they last 12 they come in sight 
64 of Englands pleasant shore. 



1 To sea.— P. 

That y telle an evel lype, 
Mori that cloth him into shypc 

Whil the weder is wod ; 
For, he ho come to the depe. 
He may wrynge hard ant wepe, 

Ant be of drery mod. 
' Ofte rap reweth ; ' 

Quoth Hendyng. 
Religuice Antigua, i. 115. — F, 
- Kulfill'd.— P. 



3 this their merrim^ — P. 

4 did turn, to dear. — P. 

5 The sailors .... Shipmen all. — P. 
were so disguis'd that. — P. 

7 A.-S. steor-ern, the steering-place, 
the stern. — F. 

s The princes. — P. 
9 which made distilling. — P. 
10 fears.— P. 



no 



helpe.— P, 



'- And at the last.— P 



THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN. 



159 



then euery one began 

to turne these siges ' to smiles, 
their coulours 2 pale and wan 
68 a cheerfull looke Exiles. 



and smile. 



the princelye Lords most louihglye 

their Ladycs doe embrace ; 
3 " In england," quoth they "wee shalbe 
72 within a litle space." 3 



Lords 

embrace 
their ladies, 



"take comforts to jour selues," 

thus euerye one did say, 
" & be no more dismay d ; 
76 behold the Land att Last ! " 4 



aud 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. 



w/th that a greiuous scrike G 

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 the lacke. 7 

the shipp soe soone did sinke 
Unit 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 — s For now in England shall we be 
Quoth thoy in little space.— P. 

4 then they said 
Behold the Land at last 

Then l.o &e. 
The worst is gone & past. — P. 



s—5 -\yhji,. fi lrv ( [j,i this joyful hope 
With comfort entertains 
The goodly ship upon a rock 
In sunder hurst in twaine. — P. 
,; shriek.— P. 

7 they sought. —P. 

8 sea.- P. 



160 



THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN. 



notwith- 
standing 
their efforts, 



92 



there might you see the Lords 
and Ladyes ffor to lye 

amidst the salt sea ffome, 
w/th many a greiuous crye 



still laboured for their Hues l defence 

with streched armes abroad, 
& lifting vpp their Lilly hands 
96 for helpe w/th one accordd. 



except Buke 
Richard, 
who gets 
into the 
cockboat ; 



but he turns 
to rescue his 
sister, 



but as good ffortune wold, 

the sweete young 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, 
he turned his boate to take her in 
104 whose death did draw soe neere ; 



others crowd 
into the 
boat, 

and all arc 
drowned. 



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, 

for to 4 the boate a number gott, 

soe many att the Last, 5 
that the boate & all thai was 6 theiin 
112 was drowned & ouer cast. 

of Lords & gentlemen, 

& ladyes ffaire of fface, 
not one escaped then ; 
116 this was 7 a heauinesse ! 



1 labouring .... life's. — P.] 

2 sister.— P. 

■ he strove to take 
His sweet yoting sister in. — P. 



4 That to.— P. 

4 as at the last.— P. 

6 The boat .... were. 

7 Which was.— P. 



THE DROWNING OF IIENEIIY THE I. HIS CHILDREN. 



161 



CO t5 i e and ten l were drowned in all, 

not one escaped death, 
but one pore bucher, who had swoome 
1 20 himselfe quite out of breath. 

w7Mch was 2 most heauy newes 

vnto our comlye Kinge ; 
all mirth hee did refuse, 3 
124 this word when he did 4 bringe, 



70 perish. 



One, a 

butcher, 

alone 

escapes. 

The King is 
sad at the 
news, 

and refuses 
all mirth. 



128 



where by 5 this meanes no child wee 6 had 

his Kingdome to succeede. 
7 his sisters sonne was crowned K.inge, 

as wee may plainly reede. 7 

ffinis. 



No child 
succeeds him 
but his 
nephew. 



1 Thre Score & ten.— P. 

2 This was.— P. 

3 Who did all mirth refuse. — P. 

4 they did.— P. 



5 For.— P. 

6 he.— P. 



"Whereby his sister's Son was king, 
As you shall plainly read. — P. 



VOL. III. 



162 



iWurtfirn'ntj: of Oftitoarti tin ffottrtl; I) is stottnt** 1 

Tins ballad differs very slightly from that published in the 1659 
edition of The Crown 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 soug* made of the successors of King Edward the 
Fourth, to the tune of 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 ex- 
citement 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. 

" 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 the l'.'s from this, in the printed Collection, 12 m .°, 
Time. See Stan" 31,32. There is a Vol. ii. p. 100.— P. 



3IUKT1IE1UNG OF EDWAKL) THE FOUKTH 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 IT. 
died 

he left two 
young sous. 



then Richard, duke of Glouster, 

desiring Kingly sway, 
desired l by treason how to make 
8 his brothers sonnes away. 



Glo'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 6 trecherye. 



& then the duke of Buek[i]ngham, 

to sett abroach this thinge, 
he began a quarrcll for the noncte 
20 w'tli them that kept the Kinge. 



Buckingham 



P. 



1 contrived. — V. 

* Then he & Buckingham did plot. — 

3 Lines 13, 11 are written before 1. 11 



in the MS., but are marked at the sido 
witli a bracket. — F. 

1 Ins.- P. 

* his.— P. 



m 2 



1G4 



MERTHERING, OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES. 



arrests Lord 
Gray, 



Lord Rivers, 



24 



& then they did arrest Lord Gray, 
the Brother to the Queene ; 

her other brother, the hord Riuers, 
in durance as they had beene. 



and Sir T. 
Vaughau, 



the King's 
friends, 



Sir Thomas Vaughan then Likewise x 

did there and then 2 arrest ; 
soe was the ~King of all his ffreinds 
28 suddenly dispossest. 



and has 
tliilli put to 
death. 



in breeffe, these Noblemen were sent 

to Pontfracte Castle soone, 
where the, [in] 3 short time afterwards, 
32 to death was eche man doone. 



Glo'ster and 
Buckingham 
take the 
King to 
London, 



then forth they brought they K.mg alone, 

towards London with great speed, 
vsing their perswasions full ffalselye 4 
36 not to Mislike that deede. 



and lodge 
him in the 
Bishop's 
Palace. 



Glo'ster 
names 
himself 
Protector, 



& when to London that they came, 

ffor him they had prepared 
the Bishopps pallace ffor the nonet, 
40 but saflye vnder guard. 

& then duke RiCHartZ takes vpon him 

the keeping of the King, 
naming himselfe Jjord protectore, 
44 his wished ends to bringe ; 



and the 
Cardinal 



48 



desiring 5 how then 6 in his mind 
to gett the other brothers too, 
the w7«ch the Cardinall vndertooke 
ffull Cuningly to doo. 



in liko wise. — P. 

They then and there. — P. 

in.— P. 



4 their false persuasions. — P. 

5 Devizing. — P. 
contriving, Mien how. — P. 



MURTHERING OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES. 



165 



52 



& then the Cardinall in great Last 
vnto the Queene doth come ; 

vsing his perswasions ffull fl'alselye, 
then he gott her other sonne. 



persuades 
the Queen to 
give up ber 
other son. 



then they hoth in ffull great hast 

vnto the tower were sent, 
where they liued but short space, 
56 ffor death did them prevent. 



G-lo'slerputs 
them both in 
the Tower, 



then Duke RiCHarc?, hauing ffound this meanes 

to worke these 2 princes death, 
procured one of Iames Tirrelt.s hired men ' 
60 ffull soone to stopp their breath : 



and hires 

two men, 



lames Dighton & Miles fforrest both, 

these 2 vile wicked men, 2 
these 2 were made the instruments 
64 to worke this murder then. 



Dighton and 
Forrest, 



these princes being asleepe in bedd, 

lyinge arnie in arme, 
not thinking of their vile entents 
68 nor thinking any harme, 



who, when 
the princes 
are asleep in 
bed, 



these villaincs, in the ffetherbedd 
did wrapp them up in hast, 

& with the clothes soe smothered them 
till liffe and breath was past. 



smother 

I 111 •! II 

with the 
feather-bed. 



& then they both were buryed, 
where no man yet! doth know. 

but marke hew god, in his iudgment iust, 
did liis l-i'jht reuengmenl showe ! 



But God 

t nki'-; 

vengeance 

for this. 



1 -jiie s^ James. — 1*. 



these vilo it m I wicked men. — P. 



166 



MURTHERING OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES. 



Buckingham 

is beheaded. 



Richard 



for betwixt those Dukes within short space 

such a discord there was bredd, 
as Buckingham to please the Km*/ 
80 was fforcet to loose his head. 

& then Richard in his Kinglye seate 

no ease nor rest cold ffind, 
the murthering of his nephews did 
84 so sore molest his minde. 



never sleeps, 
is always in 
fear of his 
life, 



and at last 
Richmond 



88 



he neuer cold haue quiett sleepe, 

his liffe itt stood in ffeare, 
his hand was on his dagger straight, 

that no man might come him neere. 



but att the Last Erie Richmond came 

with such a puissant band, 
that this ffalse King [he] was inforced 
92 in his defence to stande. 



[page 418] 



fifrhts him 
at Uos worth, 



and he is 
Elain, 

and set 
naked and 
mangled on 
a horse. 



96 



then meeting him att Bosworth ffelld, 1 
they fought with harts full faine; 

yett ffor shedding of these princes blood, 
god caused King Richyut? to be slaine. 



& being dead, vpon a horsse 

all naked he was borne, 
his fflesh [all 2 ] cutt & mangled, 
100 his haire all rent and torne. 



Richmond is 



crowned 

Henry VII., 



is succeeded 
by Henry 
VIII., 



& then Erie Richmond worthelye, 

ffor this his deede of ffame, 
of England hee was crowned Kmg, 
104 Henery the 7* by name, 

of whom most royall lines did springe, 

that ffamous King of might, 
Henery the 8" 1 , our 3 noble deeds 
108 our chronicles doc well recyte. 



1 See Bosworth Feilde below. — F. 



all cut.— P. 



3 whose. — P. 



MUIITIIEKING OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES. 



167 



112 



when that hee dyed, liee left liis Land & crowne 

to Edward his sweete sonne, 
whose gracyous raigne all England may rue 

his time soe soone is come. 



he by 

Ed war 1 VI., 



& then his Sister Marye came, 
next princesse of this Laud ; 
but in her time blind ignorance 
116 against gods truth did stand, 



he by Mary 



120 



w7i /eh caused many a mans blood, 
to be shedd in ruefull case ; 

then god did England once regard, 1 
& turned all these stormes to grace. 



(who killed 

the 

martyrs), 



ffor then the other sister came, 

Elizabeth our Late Queene, 
& shoe released her peoples harts 
124 ffrom greeffe & eirrou[r]s 2 cleane. 



she by 
Elizabeth, 
our late 
Queen, 



& then the 3 mightye lames did come, 

of king Henerj/s royall race ; 
whose happy dayes our hord preserue, 
128 grant him Long time & space ! 



ffinis. 



and she by 
.Tames I., 
whom God 
preserve ! 



1 E island ouce more (mj<1 1 1 i • 1 regard. 



- errours. — P. 

3 MS. die [blollnlj the.— F. 



168 



€l)t : ;fali : of : prfitttD*:] 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, ! man hab mtmde 
bat of }>is lif \>er commit ende : 
of erbe and axen z is ure kunde, 
and in-to duste we schullib wende : 

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 non- 
washing hearers of former days, why should men be proud or 
expect to live ? 

Man ! of H schuldres and of Jn side 
}>ou mi3to hunti luse and flee ! 
of such a park i ne hold no pride ; 
be dere nis naii3te 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, 

bei} man bo rich of lond and lede, 
and holdib festis ofte and lome, 
hit nis no doute he sal be dede, 
to 3elde 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 

Win is bis worlde biloucd bat fals is & veyn ? 
Its power passes away like a brittle pot that is fresh and gay. It 

1 N.B. This songshowM seem to have z ashes. — F. 

been wrote soon after fko Death of 8 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 bileoue the wageringe wijnde 

ban \>e chaungeable world bat makij> men so blinde. 

Solomon, Sampson, Absalom, Duke Jonatas, Caasar, the Eich 
Man of the Gospels, Tullius, Aristotle : 

Where ben beso worbi bat were hoere 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, " J?at worldli blis is but a ]nng 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 Death's 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. Fronde 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 

haue saned a mans liffe to endure for ever, 
then King llenery the 8'. h 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. 



T 

1HE : hyc god most gracyous, his l goodcnesse alone, God, after 

thou hast 2 made vpon the earth, beast, bird and tree, bcalsts'birds, 
Angells in heauen, & ministers to thy throne, 

the sun & the moone, the Elcinrnl it skye. angels, 

sun, :mtl 

att Last thou made [man] of 3 noblest degree, moon, 

niter thine owne likenesse, such was thy grace. made man. 

Lawde wee him fcherffore, for happy wee bee ; 
But heere wee beene sure to Hue but a space. 

1 whose.— P. '-' Hath.— P. 3 madest man of.— P. 



170 



THE FALL OF P1UNCES. 



But where 
are Adam 



and Eve ? 



Dead. And 
we can live 
but a space. 



Where are 
David, 



Samson, 
Hercules, 

and Duke 

Joshua ? 

Their glorj's 

gone, 

a id we don't 

live here 

long. 



Where are 
Alexander, 



Nebuchad- 
nezzar, 

Augustus, 

Hannibal ? 



[page 419] 

All dead, and 
we must 
follow them. 

Where are 
Hector, 



Rowland, 
and Oliver ? 



Where is Adam our mrot progenitor, 

of 1 bewtye & of coning, & 2 neuer had no peere ? 
& Eue his companion, that most oryent ffigure ? 
12 he "King, & 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 ; 
1G but 3 heere wee beene sure to hue but a space. 

Where is "King David the doughtye, that Golyas oner- 
came ? 
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 ? 

their pompe & their glory is nowe very basse. 4 
lett this be a mirrour alwayes in our sight, 
24 that heere we beene sure to Hue but a space. 

Wliere 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, with his power to them was full lust 7 ? 
where is Haniball the hardy, threw all in the duste, 

and brought all roome 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, 



' for.— P. 

8 that.— P. 

1 base. 

s govern' d it. — P. 

'• full of pride. — P. 



that. — P. ' that was with his power full (right) 

just.— P. 
s Rome. — P. 

" go a ft or thorn we must. — P. 
10 MS. paste.— F. 



THE FALL OF PRINCES. 171 

but yett with death they cold not agree 

in this world to haue no Longer space, 

death, all their e-lory from them he did ring, 1 Dead, as we 

' ° J chilli soon 

40 & wee must all follow them in a short space. be. 

Where is Godfrey of Bullen, that Troian soe stout ? where are 

. Godfrey, 

or Mithydrates, where is hee r Mitiuidates, 
or Iulyus Machabeus that went not about ? 

44 or Guy of warwicke, as doughtye as hee ? Gny of 

where is Huon 2 of Burdeaux, where is hee ? Huon of ' 

these cold not refuse death with his mace 3 ; 

therfor marke my sayings all you that 4 heere bee, Dead, and we 

48 for heere wee beene sure to liue but a space. here long. 



Where is Iason the doughtye that woone the fleece of where arc 

Jason, 

gold, 

or Acctollen 5 that was called the scorge of god, Attila> 

or Phebus, the wisest man vpon the mould ? rhebus, 

52 or Acchilles that was called the Troians rodd ? Achilles, 

where is Kdnia Herod the herlott, was 6 worsse then and King 

J Herod? 

madcl, 7 
for w/th his owne Kinsmen himselfe he did deface ? 

Loe ! heere you may see, flbr all this noble 8 blood, We can live 

here but a 

50 that here we beene sure to liue but a space. space. 



where is the Emperour that the bold clarke was Where ai 
called (J ? 
the Sarasins doe remember him, & shall doe for 
eucr 10 ; 
or Iulyus Caesar, with " head balde, Julius 

go that brought Roome & the Romans to a sorry stay ? BBar ' 



1 wring did he. P. 7 wood. — P. 

- Sir Huon.— I*. H hye.— P. 

3 ? MS. mate, altered to mar.-. -F. " Was it Charlemagne (I. 77)? IK 

' MS. thai vou. — F. encouraged learning. — T. Wright. 

1 Antiochua.- P. lu aye.— P. 

who was.— P. " with his.— P. 



172 

and Nero ? 



Dead, 

as we soon 

shall be. 



64 



THE FALL OF PRINCES. 

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 

for wee beene sure to liue but a space. 



Where are 

Pyrrhus, 

Dulcina, 

Sir Volen, 

Troylus, 

Tarn bur- 
lain ? 



Remember 
that we 
must die. 



Where is Pironius, 2 the proud enemy to Roome ? 

or dulcina the terror, or Cicill the Kinge 3 ? 
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 ? 
lett this be a mirrour allwayes in our sight, 
72 that heere wee beene sure to liue but a space. 



Where are 
Arthur, 

Tristram, 
Gawaine, 

Lancelot, 

Charle- 
magne 1 



Dead too, 
and we 
cannot 
live long. 



Where is King Arthur the venturer, with his Knights 
bold ? 5 
or Sir Tristeram, that treasure of curtesy e ? 
or Sir Gaw r aine the good, with, his helmett made of 
gold ? 
76 or Sir Lancelott dulake, a Knight of Chiualrye ? 
where is King Charlemaine 6 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 alitle 9 space. 



1 hear may. — P. See Dr. Robson's 
note below on leune, 1. 72 of Sir John 
Butter. — 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 3ynge . . 
The kynge was calde kynge Roberd, 
Never man in hys tyme wyste hymaferde. 

HalliweU's Nuga Poetica, p. 49. 
According to Froissart (translated) he 
■• was a great astronomyre, and full of 



great science"; and in 1529 a play, 
" Kynge Eobart of Cicylye," was per- 
formed 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. 

' Who would.— P. MS. is right. 
Compare 1. 85 in the next stanza. — F. 
8 wee.— P. D short.— P. 



THE FALL OF FRINCES. 



173 



Where is ~King Richard!, was called Cwer de Lyon ? 

or Saladine the good Sarazen, where is hee ? 
or Edward the 3? that wan Gasconie & Gaines ' ? 
84 or King Henery the 5 t . h , a prince of Chiuahye ? 

where is duke Charles of Burgundye, froni them did 
neuer flee ? 
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 Hue but a space. 



Where are 
Cour-de- 
Lion, 
Saladin, 
Edward III., 

Henry V., 

Duke 

Charles? 



All dead. 

Take heed, 

then, 

we shall soon 

die too. 



ffor if wisdome or manhood by any meanes cold 

haue saued a mans liffe to endure for euer, 
then King Henery the 8' h 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, 
good JjovcI ! bring vs to thy blisse, there to remaine 
for euer ; 
96 ffor heere we be sure to Hue but a space. 

ffinis. 



If manhood 

could have 
saved a man, 
Henry VIII. 
would not 
have died. 

But death 
takes all. 



God, bring us 
to thy bliss ! 
Here we can 
live not 
long. 



1 Guisnes. Gasconie may be Gascoine. — F. 

2 Oue stroke only for u in the MS. — F. 



174 



Cftr mitt brotone mapti l 

Tins 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 Vol. II. Part I. and Introduction 
to A Jigge; also Hazlitt's Early Popular Poetry, ii. 271. 



l 
Men com . 2 RlGHT & noe wronge, these men amonge, [pi gc420] 

plam thllt ' as [on] women doe Complaiue, 

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 ;] 
win towm y for lctt a man doe what he can 

a woman's g ^^ ffayor tQ 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., ab. 1500-30 a.d.— F. 
There are 40 or 50 lines left out of this 



THE NUTBROWN MAYBE. 

[From the Balliol MS. 354, marked Arch. P. 1. 6.] 

1 for late a maw do what he can, 

2 Be it right, or wronge, Thes [leaf -'106] ther favowre to attayn, 

men a-monge yet, yf a newe to them pursue, 

on wymen do cowplayn ; ther ferste trew lover than 

affermyng this, how that it is labowreth for now-ght ; for from her 

a labowiv spent in vayn thowght 

to lovo them wellc ; for neuer a dele a i 1( , j s a banysshed man. 
they love a man a-gayn : 



THE NUTT BROWNE MAY1). 



175 



& if a new to them persue, 
the ffirst true louer then 
he labours for nought, — fur from his thought, — 
12 for he is a banished man. 



when a new 
lover comes 

ilic old ' 

is turned off. 



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 : 
ifor 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 

■wo'T.en'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. 



1 I say not nay, but that alle day 

it is both wreten & said 
that woman's feyth, Is, as who seyth, 

alle vtturly decayde ; 
But neuer*7«elesse, Right good witnes 

In this ease myght be layde, 
that they love trew, & contenewe, 

Recorde the Nutbrown mayde, 
which, whan her love cam her to prove, 

to her to make his mone," 
wolde not departe ; for in her hart 

she loved but hym alone. 



Than betwen us let us disevsse 

what was alle the maner 
Bel wen them two : we wille also 

telle alle the payn in fore 
that she was in. Now I begyn, 

s.i that ye me answerc; 
wherfor, alb' ye that present be, 

I pr«y 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." 



PTJELLA.* 

And I yowr wille for to fulfille 

In this wille not Refuse ; 
trustyng to shew, In wordis fewe 

that men have an ylle use 
(To ther own shame) wymon to blame, 

and cavselesse them accuse : 
therfor to you I answere now, 

alle wymen to excuse, — 
Myn own hart derc, v,hh you what 
chere ? 

I p> Y( y y° u > ^Ue me a-- non ; 

ffor, in my mynd, of alle mankynd 
I love but you alon. 

- MS. they that.— F. 
3 MS. browme. — F. 



* Tuella anil Squyre arc at the right sides of the MS.— F. 



176 



THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD. 



I've done a 
deed for 
which I 

must die, 



or flee 



like an 
outlaw 



to the woods. 
I'm a 
banished 
man.'' 



1 " ffor itt standeth soe that a deede is doe 

wherby great liarrne may growe ; 
my destynye is ffor to dye 
28 a sliameffull death, I trowe, 

or else ffor to ffiee ; the one must bee. 

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. 



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 you 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 ? 



SQUYEE. 

1 It stondith so ; a dede is* doo 

wherof gret harme shalle grow : 
My destynye ys for to dye 

A shamfullc deth, I trow ; 
Or elk's to flee : the on mvste be. 

Non other way I know, 
But to wrtMraw 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. 



PUELLA. 

2 lorde ! what is this worlds blis, 

that changith as the mone? 
the somers day In lusty may 

Is darke beffore the none. 
I here you say, ffarewelle : nay, nay ! 

we departe not so sone. 
why say ye so ? whether wille ye go ? 

alas ! what hauo ye done ? 
alle my welfare To sorow & care 

shuld chauwge, 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 you were gone ; 
for in my mind, of all mankind 
48 I loue but you alone." 



She loves but 
him alone. 



1 " I can but beleeue this wold you greeue, 
& somewbatt you soe straine ; a 



Her lover 
tellu her 



SQUYKE. 

1 1 can bcleve, i tshaJle you greve, 

and sumwhat you dystreyne ; * 
but, afterward, yo«r paynes hardo 

wit/'in a day or twayn 
shalle sone aslake ; & ye shalle take 

Conforte to you a-gayn. 
why shuld you owght? for, to 
thowght, 

yowr labowrc were in Tayn. 
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 

PI* ELLA. 

Now, sith that ye haue shewed to me 

the secrete of yo?<r mynde, 
I shalle be playn to you a-gayn, 

lyke as yo shalle me fynde. 
sith it is so, that ye willc go, 

I will^' not bide behynde, 
slialb- it ncuer be said, the nvtbrown 
mayd 

was to her< Lot i vnkynde. 
make miii Redy, for so am I, 

aHe-thowgh it were anon ; 
ffor, in [my | mynd, of alle mankynd 

1 loue but you a-lon. 

9 
SQTTVl'K. 

Yet I ymi Rede to take tro. ■. I hede 
what men will' thynke & say : 

.f oldc. hit shalh 1 <■ told, 

t hat j i li.' i-iiii a-way, 
your wanten wille tor to fulfills, 

in grenwode you t < > play ; 
ami ihn\ ye myght for your d< Lite 

No lengar make delay, 
rather than yo shuld thus for mo 

be called a mysse woman, 

vol. in. N 



yet wold I to The grenwode go, 
alon, a banysshed man. 

10 
PUELLA. [leaf 211 b] 

Thowgh it be songe of oldo & yonge, 
that I shuld be to blame, 
take Thers be the charge, That speke so large 
In hurtyng of my name : 
ffor I willc prove, That feythfulle love 

hit is deuyoyed of shame ; 
In yowr distresse and hevynesse, 
To parte wit A 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. 

ll 

SQUYRE. 

I cownsaille you, Remembre how, 

hit is no maydyns lawe, 
No-thyng to dowte, but to renne owt 

to wodo with an owtlawe. 
ffor ye mvste thcr, In your hond here 

a bowe Eedy to drawe, 
&, as a theff, thus mvst ye levc, 

Ever In drede & awe ; 
wherby to you Grit harm myght grow : 

yet hade I lover than, 
that I | had] to The grenwod go, 

alon, a banysshed man. 

p.' 

PIKI.LA. 

I say not nay, but as ye say, 

3 t is no maydyns lore ; 
but love may make Mo to for-sakc, 

as I haue savd beffore, 
i- ci no fote, To hunte & shote 

to get us mete in store ; 
fior so that 1 yo/n- company 

may haue, I askc no more : 



178 



Til", NUTT BKOWNE MAYD. 



of the hard- 
ships she'd 
have to 
undergo 
with him, 



and sa\'s 
he'll go alone 
to the 
greenwood. 



She answers 
that as she's 
shared his 
joy, she'll 
share his 
woe. 



a the thorny e wayes, the deepe valleys, 
52 the liaile, ffrost, snow, & raine ; 

ffor dry & weete, ffor cold & heate, 
wee must Lye on the plaine ; 

no other house [be] vs aboue, 
56 but a bush 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, 
CO my selfe, a banished man." 

6 
1 Shee sayes, " with you I haue been partener, 
with you in Ioy' and blisse ; 
I will take alsoe part of yowr woe, 
64 endure, as reason itt is ; 



ffrom which to parte, it makyth myharte 

as colde as any ston ; 
for, in my mynde, of allc mawkyud 

I love but you alone. 

13 

SQUYBE. 

ffor an owtlawe This is the lawe, 

that men hym take and bynde, 
witAowt 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 yo?«r cownsellc than : 
wherfor I wille to the grenwod go, 

alon, a banysshed man. 

14 
PCELLA. 

Right wellc know ye, that wymen bo 

but feble for to fight; 
No womawhede 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 witAstond, with bow in honde, 

To belpeyou with my myght, [leaf 212] 
and you to save ; as wymen hare 

from ilctli | men] many one: 



for, in my mynd, of allc mawkynd 
I love but you alon. 

15 

[SQUYRE.] 

Yet take good hede ; for curr I dredo 

that ye cowld not sustcyn 
" the thorny wayes, the depe 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 

PUEIXA. 

1 Sith I haue here ben partynere 

with you yoye & blisse, 
I mvste also parte of yowr woo 

Endure, as Reason is : 
yet am 1 sure of on pleasure; 

&, shortly, it is this : 
lh,i\, wliri' ye be, mo semeth, parde, 

I cowld not fare a-mysse. 
withowt more speche 1 you beseche 

that we were shortly gon ; 
For, in my mynd, of allc mankynd 

I love but you alon. 



THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD. 



179 



but I sliold be sure of one pleasure, 

that is shortlye this, 
wheresoeuer you be, that I you see, 
68 I cold not flare amisse. 

from home to depart will make my hart 

as cold as any stone ; 
ffbr in my mind, of all mankind 
72 I loue but you alone." 



At any rate 
she shall 
see him, 



ami she loves 
him alone. 



we shall have 
no meat, 



no sheets. 



1 " But you must consider, sweet bart, when you " But think > 
come thither 
and haue List to dine, 
there is no meate that wee can gett, 
76 neither ale, beere, nor wine, 

nor sheetes cleane to lye betweene, 

made neither of threed nor twinn, [pagc42i] 
Nor noe other house but leaues & brouse, 
80 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 
84 my selfe, a banished man." 



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, 



[SQTJYRE.] 

' Iff ye go thyder, ye mvsl consider, 

whan ye have luste to dyne, 
i 1m- i- shall* no mete be for to gete, 

Nether bere, ale, ne wyne ; 
nc Bhetes clen, to lay betwen, 

Made of threde and twyne ; 
non other bows, but Levis ^v bowes, 

tn ( lover yowr hede & myne ; 
loo in\ ii hart Bwete, this ill' dyetl 

sliuhl make you pah and wan ; 



wherfor I wille to tho grenwod go, 
a-lon, a banysshed man. 

2 nine in MS.— F. 

18 

[PTJEIXA.] 

'■' Anioii^re tliv wihle ilere, .suehc an archer?, 

as men say t/«/i ye be, 
may nut lay \\r of good vytaylk*, 

wher is si i gret plente : 
ix w&ter clere of the Rirere 

shallr lie fullc swete to me ; 



180 



THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD. 



I'll drink 
water 



and provide 
a bed, 



for I love 
but you 
alone.*' 



you sliold not ffaile ffor good vittaile 
88 where is such great plentye ; 

the water cleere within the riuer 
shold be 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 aboue all mankind 
9G I loue but you 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." 



2 " Nay Loue, thore you must doe more : 
If you will goe w/th mee, 
you must shorten yo?tr haire aboue yowr eare, 
100 & yo?<r kirtle 3 aboue your knee, 

ffor to Av/thstand, with bow in hand, 

your enemyes, if neede bee ; 
ffor this same night, before it be day-light, 
104 to the woods that I will mee ; 
& if you will all this ffulfill, 

doe itt as shortlye as you can, 
or else I must to the greenwood goe 
108 my selfe, a banished man." 



with which in helo* I shalle Eight welle a 

Endure, as ye shalle see ; 
and, or we go, a bedde or two 

I can p?'ovide anon ; 
ffor, in my mynde, of alle mawkynd 

I love but you alone. 

1 ninde in MS.— F. 

19 
SQTJYRE. [leaf 2126] 

2 Loo yet, boffore, ye mvst do more, 

yf ye wille goo -with me : 
as, cute yo?/r here vp by yo«r ere, 
your kyrtyll by yowr knee ; 



with bow in honde, for to w/t//stonde 

yo?a* enymyes, yf nede be : 
& this same nyght, beffore day-light, 

to wode-warde wille I flee, 
yff that ye wille alle this fulfille, 

do it as shortly as ye can ; 
Els wille 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. Ecv. Jan. 1795, p. 49. — 
F. 



* Health.— F. 



TUB NUT! BRJWNE MA.YD. 



181 



10 
1 " Euea now," shee saies, "He doe more ffor you 
then belongs to woman-hood.' 2 ; 
He 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 ffast as euer you can ; b 
ffor in my mind, of all mankind 
120 I loue but you alone." 



" I'll go 
with yoa at 
once. 



Dear mother, 
adieu ! 



My love, 
make ready ! 



I love but 
you alone." 



11 

3 " Nde, not soe, you shall not goe ! 

ffor He tell you now as why : 
your habitt 4 itt is to be light, 
124 my loue, I will espye ; 

for likwise as you say to me, 

Likewise you shall ffmd, c 
itt is told of old, ' soone hott, soone cold, 
1 28 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 
PTJELLA. 

1 1 shalle as now do more for you 

than longith to womanhede; 
to shorte myn here, a bowe to bere, 

to shote in tyme of node. 
i) my Bwete moder, beffore alle oder 

for you I have moste drede : 
but now, adewe! 1 mvsl ensue, 

a wher fortune doth me 1 
all* this make ye: Now Lai va flee ; 

the day corometb fast ypon ; b 
flbr, in my mynd, of alle mankynde 

1 love bul you a-lon. 

'-' kced wanted, to rhyme with m 
— Dyce. 



21 
SQUYBK. 

'Nay, nay, not so ; ye shalle not go, 

& I Eshallfl telle you whye, 
yowr appel ite is to be light 

of love, 1 well'' espye : 

for, Like as ye haue said to me, 

In likewyse hardely c 
ye wolde answers who-so-euer it were, 

In way of Companye. 

It is said of olde, Soil whof, sono colde ; 

i\: so is a womare. 
ffor I mvste to the grenwode goo, 

alone, a banysshed man. 

* 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 yon take heed, you doe not need 
132 soe ffarr to speake by mee ; 

ffor I liaue prayed, & long I haue sayd, 

before I loued pardye ; 
& [though] that you [know] of anceytrye 
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 wi'th 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 ! 



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 yc take hede, it is no necle 

such worch's 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 shalle, what -so befalle; 

in dye therefor a-non ; 
ffor, in my mynd, of alle marakynd 

I love but you a-lon. 

1 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 owtlarwe ! 

almyghty god forbede ! 
yet better were, the poro squyer 

alon to foroste yede, 
than ye shuld say aa-other day, 

that, by my cursed Eede, 
ye were betrayde : Wherefor, good mayd, 

the best Eede that I can, [leaf 218] 
ys, that I to the grenwod go, 

alon, a banysshed man. 



THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD. 



183 



14 

" Let this out-ffall, I neuer shall 
156 of that thing you vpbraid ; 
but if you goe & leaue me soe, 

then I am quite betraid. 
Remember how that itt is, a 
160 you are not as you said : 

you are vnkind to leaue behind 

your loue, the nutt-browne maid, 
trust me, trulye I must dye 
164 as soone as you are gone ; 

for in my mind, of all mankind 
I loue but you alone." 



" Whatever 
happens, 
I'll never 
upbraid you, 

except you 
leave me. 



[page 422] 



I am your 
love, and 
must die if 
you go. 



1 love but 
you alone.' 



15 
2 " Why, but if 3-ou went, you wold repent; 
168 for in the fforrest now 

I haue prouided me of a maid 

whom I loue better then you ; 
& ffairer then euer you Avere, 
172 I dare this well auowe. 

betw[i]xt you both I shold be wroth b 

w/'th eche other, as I trowe ; 
itt is my ease to Hue [in] peace ; 
170 soe will I if I cann ; 

ffor I will to the greenwood goe 
my selfe, a banished man." 



" But you'd 
repent if you 
did come ; 

for I've got 
the<'e a 
prettier 
maid, whom 
I love better 
than you: 



I'll go to the 
woods 

alone." 



24 
I PI ELLA.] 

What-ever befalle, I neuer Bhalle 

of this thyng you o"wt-brayde; 
Bui j f ye go, & Leve mi 

tb;i-/ haue ye me betrayde. 
Remembn you welle, hois tha\ ye dele 

for, yf ye be as ye said, 
ye were vnkynd, to leve me behynd, 

yoitr love, the Nutbrown mayde. 
Tru te I me | truly, tha\ 1 shall* dye 

sonc after ye be pun ; 
ffor, in nw invinl. of all mankynd 

I love bul you alon. 



25 
SQUYRE. 

- If that you went, ye shuld Repent ; 

for in the foreste uowe 
I have purveyde me of a mayde, 

whom I love more than you ; 
an-olher mure fayre, thaw euer ye were, 

I dare ii welle avowe ; 
and of you both, Eche willche wroth" 

With other, as 1 troWO. 

It were myn eas to leve in peas ; 

so will' I, yf I can ; 
wherefor I wills to the grenwod goo, 

alon, a banysshed man. 



184 



THE NUTT BIIOWJNE 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 vou 
alone." 



1G 

1 " Why, tlio in the wood I vnderstood 
180 that you had a paramoure, 

yett all that right nought reruoues my thought, 

for still I will be yours, 
shee shold me fund both soft & kind, 
184 & curteous euery houre ; 

gladd jour will for to ffulfill ; 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 
Westmore- 
land'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 1 vndcrstode 

ye had a paraniowre, 
alle this may nowght remove my thowgh t, 

hut that I wille he yo«r : 
& she shade me fynd softe and kynd, 

& Ourteys euery owre ; 
Glad to fulfills alle that she wille," 

Comaund mo to my powere : 
ffor had ye, loo ! an hundreth mo, 

yel wnkle I be that on ; 
ffor, in my mynd, of alle marakynd 

I love but you a-lon. 



27 
[SQUYRE.] 

2 Myn own dere love ! I so thee prove 

thut ye he kynde & trewe ; 
of mayde & wyf, In alle my lyff, 

the best that ever I knew. 
Be mery and glade ; be no more sade ; 

The case is chawnged newe ; 
for it were Kcwth, that for your trcwth, b 

that ye shuld have cawse to Rewe, 
be not dysmayde, what-so-euer I aaid 

to you, whan I be-gan ; 
I wille not to the grenwodo go ; c 

I am no banysshed man. 



THE 1SUTT BKOWNE MAYD. 



185 



18 

1 " These ty dings to me are gladder," slice saies, 

" then tho I were a Queene, 
If I were sure itt wold endure ; 
204 but itt is often seene 

men will break promise [tho] the 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." 

19 

2 " You shall not neede soe fiar to dreed, 

ffor I will not disparishe 3 
[you, (God 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 With a ringe ; 
220 in way of Marryage 

I will you take, and Ladye make, 
as shortly e as euer I cann. 



a banished 
man." 

"I'm gladder 
than if I 
were Queen. 



But are not 
you beguil- 
ing me ? 



If you leave 

me 

I am lost ; 

for I love 
but you 
alone." 



" No, truly, 



Westmore- 
land is mine. 



I'll wed you 



as soon as I 
can. 



28 
MAYD. [leaf 2186] 

1 Thes tydyingis be more gladder to me, 

than tn be made a quene, 
yf I were sure they shuld endure: 

but it. is often seen, 
whew men will'' breke promyso, thoy 
Bpeke 

the wordw on the splene.* 
ye shape Bom wyle me to begile, 

& stele from me, 1 wene: 
than were the caas wors thaw it was, 

iV 1 more woo-be-gon : 
ffor, In my mynd, of alL marakynd 

1 love but you alon. 



29 
SQT'YRE. 

- Ye shallr- not mile further to drede ; 

I willff not disparage f 
you, (god defendo!) Sith ye descende 

of so grel a lynage. 
Now vuderstond; to Westmorelond, 

which is niyn herytage, 
1 wille you bryng; oc wiih a rynge 

by way of maryage 
I wille you take, & lady make, 

;i^ sin irt ly as I can : 
Than baue ye wonne an erles sonne, 

ec not a banysshed man. 



• i in a Midden.— B. licll. 



t disparage. Arnoldo. — F. 



186 



THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD. 



I'm not a 
banisbed 

man." 



thus haue you woone the Erie of westmorelands 
sonne, 1 
224 and not a banished man." 



So yon fee 

women are 

true. 

Let not men 

reprove 

them. 



Men want 
their love ; 



but I shall 
love God 
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 varyable, a 

but rather pray to god that they 

to men may be comfortable, 
that haue proued such as they loucd, 
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 wome» be 

In lore, meke, kynd, & stable ; 
latt never ma» Reprove them than, 

yf they be Charytable," 
but Rather pray god that we may 

to them be confortable; 
God siiMtyme provith, such as he lovith, 

yf they be * charytable. 



for sith mew wold that womc« shuld 

be meke to them echoue ; 
moche more awght they to god obey, 

and seme but hym alon. 

Explicit, quod Richard Hillc. 



here endith the nutbrown mayd. 

This last stanza is not in Prior's 
Edition.— P. 

3 From the concluding Words of this 
last stanza it should seem that the Aut lior 
wus a woman. — P. 



* MS. be be.-F. 



187 



€\)t : rode of (Englanne : l 



[page 423] 



Thomas. Come hither, fiddler ; 

What ballads are you seen in best ? 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 Rose of England " 
" In Crete when Dedimus first began," 
" Jonas his Crying-out against Coventry." 

Thorn. Excellent ! 

Rare matters all ! 

Fid. "Maudlin the Merchant's Daughter," 
" The Devil and ye Dainty Dames." 

Thorn. Rare still! 

Fid. " The landing of the Spaniards at Bow, 
With the bloody battle of Mile End." 

Thorn. All excellent ! 

Monsieur Thomas, act iii. sc. 3. 

Tins 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 diffi- 
culty. Nor is the allegorical treatment always maintained ; the 
Rose suddenly becomes Earl Richmond. The piece is charac- 
terised 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 8" |, s lifetime." From the last stanzas it would 

' An allegorical i the Landing bury, written in Henry 8".'' s lifetime. 

& Victory of King llenry 7'.". with the KB. This m>h- is quoted in Beaum".' 

brave Conduct of the BaiUff of Shwsws- Mons. Tho*. p. 397. — 1*. 



188 THE KO.SE OF ENGLANDE. 

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. 

Vv. 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 Rychemoonde 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 niarcbyng 
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 
Richard, whose lyfFetenants he & hys fellows were ; & before he 
should enter there, he should goe oner hys belly : meaninge thereby 
that he would be slayne to the grounde, and so to roon over hym 
before he cntird, and that he protestyd vehemently e uppon the Ofcke 
he had tacken. 

So the sayd Erie returnyd wyth hys companye backe agayne to a 
vylledge callyd Forton, 3 Myles and a halfe from Shrosberie, where 
he lay that night, & in the mornynge followynge there came Em- 
bassadors 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 
Richard, in which Kynge Richard was slayne. 

The difficulty in which the poor mayor found himself placed 
was of course of no rare occurrence in a period when the occu- 
pancy of the throne was perpetually disturbed. It was of so 
common occurrence, that a statute was passed in the eleventh 



THE ROSE OF ENfil.ANDE. 



189 



year of Henry the Seventh's reign declaring that " 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 " 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): 

ei/6a ttoAvs ffcpifft fx6\6os iira^oixivoLOiv irvx^T}, 
birn&Ttpos Kara vwja Ad/3cu (J>dos 7/eAioio • 
Utpiri fxtya 5' avSpa irapijAvdes, & TloAvSevKes, 
f3d\A€TO 8' aKTivftrfftv aivav 'A/j.vkoio irpoaaiirov. 



THROUGHOUT : a garden greene & gay, 

a seernlye sight itt was to see 
how fflowers did flourish fresh and gay, 
4 & hirds doe sing Melodiouslye 



In a gay- 
garden, 



grew gay 
flowers. 



in the midst of a garden there sprange ' a tree 

which tree was of a mickle price, 
& then' \ ppon sprang the rose soe redd, 
8 the goodlyest that euer sprange on rise. 2 



and in the 
midsl was 
a rose sored, 
(Edward V.) 



this rose was ffaire, ffresh to behold, 

springing with many a royall Lance; 
a crowned King, vv/th ;i crowne of gold 
12 oner England, IreLand, and of ffrance. 



the King of 
England, 
Ireland, 
and France. 



this garden sprang. — P. 



2 bough. — F. 



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 

& lie rooted tins garden vpp and downe, 2 
by the seede of the rose he sett noe store, 
10 but afterwards itt wore the crowne. 



and buried 
its branches. 



hee tooke the branches of this rose away, 3 

and all in sunder did them teare ; 
& he buryed them vnder a clodd of clay, 
20 swore they shold neue> - 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 ; 
he took the branche of the rose away, 
24 & bore itt to Latham 5 to his nest. 

but now is this rose out of England exiled, 

this certaine truth I will not Laine G ; 
but if itt please you to sitt a while, 
28 lie tell you how the rose came in againe. 



And the Rose 
(Henry 
TIL) 
came in 
agrain at 
Milford, 



att Milford hauen he entered in 7 ; 

to claime his right, was his delight ; 
he brought the blew bore in with him, 
32 to encounter with the bore soe white. 8 



1 Cf. the stanza quoted in Mrs. Mark- 
ham : 
" The Cat, the Eat, and Lovell the dog 

Buled all England under the Hog." 
This poem, -written by Win. 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 Pcm- 
broke were two of the chief commanders 
in Henry VII. 's army. The deeds of the 
latter (Jasper Tudor, Ear] of Pembroke, 
afterwards Duke of Bedford), and cf the 
famous Sir Win. Brandon, the Standard 



Bearer, do not appear to be commemo- 
rated in this poem. — G. 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 ffeikle," 1. 8, vol. i. 
p. 212 ; "Bosworth ffeilde," 1. 60, below ; 
" Ladye Bessiye," below, 1. 809.— F. 

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 ENGLANDE. 



191 



36 



the[n] ! a messenger the rose did send 

to the Egles nest, & bidd him hye ; 
" to my gather 2 the old Egle I doe [me] comend, 3 

his aide. and helpe I craue 4 speedylye." 



and sent to 
ask 

the old 

Eagle to 
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 before 7 thold Egle, 

he kneeled him downe vpon his knee, 
saith, " well greeteth you my Lo«Z the rose, 
44 he hath sent you greetings here by me. 



The Itose's 
messenger 
tells the old 
Eagle. 



" safe ffrom the seas Christ hath him 8 sent, 

now he is entered England within." 
" let vs thanke god," the old Egle did say, 
48 " he shall be the mower of all his kine ! 



He thanks 
God, 



" wend away, messenger, with might and maine ; 

itts hard to know who a man may trust ; — 
I hope the rose shall fflourish againe, 

& haue all things att Ids owne lust." 



and wishes 
the Rose God 
speed. 



56 



then S/'r Rice ap Thomas drawes wales with him : 

u worthy sight ilt was to see, 
bow the welchmen rose wholy with him, 

& Bhogged 9 him to Shvewsburye. 



1 tho, or Hun.— P. 

- Bend up- tho lone of tho Lo/yZ 
Stanley! 
lie marryed my mother, a Lady 
bright. 
Bosworthffeilde, 1. 69-60, below.— F. 

3 we commend. I'. 



The Welsh- 
men caxrj 
the llote 
to 

Shrewsbury, 



1 Iiis aid I must crave.— P. 

5 I desire of my Father at my. — P. 

8 Botl in &.-P. 

7 there.— P. 

Apparently altered from "mim" in 
31 S. P. 

9 moved. See vol. i. p. 218, note *. — 
F. 



192 



THE ROSE OF ENGLANDE. 



where 

Master 
Mitton is 
bailiff. 



GO 



Att that time was baylye in ' Shrewsburye 
one Master Mitton 2 in the towne. 

the gates were strong, & he mad them ffast, 
& the portcullis he lett downe ; 



Mitton 
declares no 
one shall 
enter, 



& throug a garrett of the walls, 

ouer severne these words said hee, 
" att these gates no man enter shall." 
64 but he kept him out a night & a day. 3 



but on 

getting 

orders 

from Sir 

William 

Stanley, 

lets in the 
Red Rose, 



who stops 
Lord Oxford 
killing him. 



these words Mitton did 4 Erie Richmond tell ; 

I am sure the Chronicles of this will not Lye ; 
but when le^res came 5 from S/r William Stanley of 
the holt castle, 
68 then the gates were opened presentlye. 

then entred this towne the noble Lord 

the Erie Richmond, the 6 rose soe redd, 
the Erie of Oxford with a sword 
72 wold haue smitt of the bailiffes head. 



" but hold jouv hand," saies Erie Richmond, 

" ffor his loue that 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 towne? " 
" 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 clay. — P. 
The man misses the whole point of the 
story: the Mayor said, 1 have sworn that 
no one shall enter this town except over 
mil /.in///; on which Henry proposed that 



he should lie down and let him step over 
him ; which ho did. — Skeat. 

4 lie did.— P. 

5 cane in MS. — F. 
u that.— P. 

7 A.-S. hcafdian, to behead. — F. 



THE ROSE OF ENGLAND!'.. 



193 



84 



" why, what wilt thou say,*' said Erie Richmonde, 
" when I haue put King Richard dowue ?" 

" why, then He be as time to you, my Lord, 
after the time that I am sworne." 



" But when 

I put 
Richard 
down V" 

"Why then 
I'll bo true 
to you." 



" were itt not great pitty," sayd l Erie Richmond, 

" that such a man as this shold dye ? " 
such Loyall service by him done, 
88 the cronickles of this will not Lye. 2 



" thou shalt not be harmed in any case." 

he p«rdone[d] him presentlye. 
they stayd not past a night & a day, 3 
92 but towards newpoit 4 did they hye. 



So Mitton 
is pardoned. 



96 



but 5 [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 

& said, " Cheshire & Lancashire, welcome to me." p""* 

. ' the Rose. 



but now is a bird 6 of the Egle taken 7 ; 
ffrom the white bore he cannot fflee. 
therfore the old Egle 8 makes great moane, 
loo & prayes to god most certainly : 



but the 
young Eagle 
is taken, 

and the old 
one prays 

(lod 



" stedfast god, verament," he did say — 

" 3 persons in one god in Trinytyc ! 
saue my sonnc, the young Kgle, this day 
104 ffrom all liaise craft & trechcrye ! " 



to save his 
son. 



1 t ho, or Richmond said. —P. 

- will tl.it Live. P. 

: ' 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 
Bos worth. Skeat. 



1 Newport in Shropshire. — P. 

'• Wu. \i, or perhaps about. I'. 

Lord Strange, the eldest son of Lord 
Stanley. G-. E. A. 

; tane. P. 

8 Lord Stanley, afterwards made Earl 
of Derby, (i. E. A. 



VOL. III. 



194 



THE ROSE OF ENGLANDE. 



The blue 
Boar (Lord 
Oxford) 
leads the 
van ; 



10S 



tlien the blew bore 1 the vanward had : 
he was both wany and wise of Avitt ; 

the right hand of them he tooke, 
the sunn & wind of them to gett. 



the Eagle, 



Talbot, 
Unicorn, 



then the Egle ffollowed fast vpon his pray ; 

w/th 2 sore dints he did them smyte. 
the Talbott 3 he bitt wonderous sore, 
1 1 -2 soe well the vnicorne 4 did him quite. 



Hart's head, 



ivhite-and- 
red -jackets, 

fight, 



& then came in the harts head 5 ; 

a worthy sight itt was to see, 
they Iaeketts that were of white & redd, 
116 how they Laid about them lustilye. 



and win the 

day. 

The white 

Boar 

(Richard 

III.) is slain. 



120 



but now is the ffeirce ffeeld fought en & ended, 

& the white bore there Lyeth slaine ; 
& the young. Egle is presented, 



& come to 6 his nest againe. 



The garden 
flourishes. 



but now this garden fflourishes ffreshly & gay, 

w/th {fragrant mowers 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, he is the rose soe redd, 

that now does fflourish ffresh and gay, 
Confound his ffoes, LortZ, wee beseeche, 
128 & loue his grace both 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. Karls 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 Sock Savage, CO. 
Chester, one of Henry's principal com- 
manders at Bosworth. — G. E. A. 

5 Probably alluding to those in the 
ainis of Sir Win. Stanley (the brother to 
Lord Stanley), who had the rearguard. — 
G. E. A. 

6 unto.— P. 



19) 



€in pott man & tin Hinge: 

Tins is a Kent version of the ballad which Martin Parker issued 
as a Northumberland one in 1640, with the title " The King and 
a poore Northerne Man. Shewing how a poore Northumber- 
land 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 sug- 
gestion of that editor, which Mr. Hazlitt states thus : " The strict 
claim of Martin Parker to the original authorship of this produc- 
tioD maybe 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 <>f 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 -i 



196 THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE. 

profession lias 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) : 

bcr houeJ> an Hundret ■ in Houues of selk, 

Seriauns hit semeb ■ to semen atte Barre; 

Pleden for pons ■ and pouHcles be lawe, 

Not for lone of vr lord • vn-loseb heore lippes ones. 

bow mihtest beter metew be Myst ■ on Maluerne hulles, 

ben geten a Mom of heore Moub ■ til moneyo weore scheweil. 

The rehels 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," " 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 lights, — - 
and, to punish the lawyer in a way that all may understand, bids 
the poor man, 

untill hee haue paid thee a 100'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 : 

God send all Lawyers thus well served ! 
then may pore ffarmers liuo in rest. 

The poem also gives rise to another set of scenes like those we 



THE TORE MAN AND THE KINGE. 197 

have seen in the Kinge and Miller and John de Reeve, on the 
countryman's coming- to court. To those who "coude their 
curtesye," and were full of the fhmkeyish respect of persons that 
characterises courtiers, it must have heen a joke to see a proud 
porter rapped on the crown hy 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 poor- 
looking fellow for a sovereign, and his grand feast only — 

. twatling dishes soe small : 
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, a poor man 

holds laud of 

he payd our King 5 ■ of rent ; the King. 

& there is a lawyer dwelt him by, A lawyer 

c« yc lio li*m 

4 a itault in his [lease, 1 ] god wott ! he hath ffound, forfeited his 

Igjisg bv 

" & all was for flailing of 5 ashe trees cutting five 



to build me a house of my owue good ground. 



ash trees. 



" I bidd him lett me & my ground alone 2 ; He offers the 

t • ip •-» i -it lawyer 40*. 

8 to cease Ins selie, it no was wulinge, 
& pike no vantages out of his :! lease; 

& hee seemed a good ffellow, I wold giue him -l^ 4 " Jjg* 

[" 40° nor 401 1 
12 wold not agree this lawer and mee, 

without I wold giue him of my farme -ground, The lawyer 

demands 
& stand to his good Curtesye. 5 ] someofhis 

1 lease.— P. Sec line 9.— F. » my.— F. 

-' MS. alomo, him is fom with thee ' Read 40 shilliuge. — Skeat. 

dotted. — i*'. i These are lines 147- <5() below. — F, 



198 



THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE. 



He then 
offers 
5 marks ; 



" lie l said, " nay, by his fay, that hee wold not doe, 
16 ffor wiffe and children wold make madd warke, 
but & he wold lett him and his ground alone, 

he seemed a good ffellow, he wold giue him 5 marke." 2 



but the 
lawyer 
refuses that 
too. 

So the poor 
man resolves 
to go to the 
King. 



" he said, " nay by his flay, that wold he not doe, 
20 ffor 5 good ash trees that he fi'ell." 

" then He doe as neighbors haue put me in head, 
He make a submission to the King my-selfe." 

by [that] he had gone a dayes iourney, 
24 one of his neighbors he did spye, 

" Neibor ! how ffar haue I to our King ? [page 425] 

I am going towards him as ffast as I can hye." 

" alas ! to-day," said his neighbour, 
28 itts ffor you I make all this mone. 
you may talke of that time enoughe 

by that tenn daies Iourney you haue gone." 



He gets to 
London, 



oversleeps 
himself, 



but when he came to London street, 
32 for an host house he did call. 

he Lay soe longe othe tother morninge a-sleepe, 
that the court was remoued to winsor hall. 



and is told 
he must go 
on to 
Windsor ; 



" arrise, my guest, you haue great neede ; 
36 you haue Lyen too long euen by a great while ; 
the court is Remoued to winsor this morning ; 
hee is ffurther to seeke by 20 mile. 

" alacke to-day ! " qtioth. the poore man, 
40 " I thinke your King att me gott witt ; 
had he knowen of my cominge, 

I thinke he wold haue tarryed yett." 



1 The poor man speaks of himsolf in miscopied for the /of lino 154. — F. 
the third person ; or else lie and hee are 2 MS. narke. — F. 



THE TUUE MAN AND THli KINGE. 



199 



" lie ffoled not for you," then said his host, 
44 " but hye you to Windsor as fast as you may ; 
& all your costs & jouv charges, 

haue you no doubt but the Kmg will pay.'" 



the King 
will pay hi. 5 
expenses. 



he hath gotten a gray russett gowne on his backe, 
48 & a hood well buckeled vnder his chin, 
& a longe stafFe vpon his necke, 
& he is to Windsor to our Kingc. 



soe when hee came to windsor hall, 
52 the gates were shutt as he there stood ; 

he knocket and poled with, a great Long stafFe : 
the porter had thought hee had beene woode. 



So he goes to 

Windsor 

Hall, 

knocks at 
the gates, 



he knocket againe with might & maine, 
56 sais, " hey hoe ! is our K.mg within ? " 
with that he proffered a great reward, 
a single penny, to lett him come in. 

" I thanke you, Sir," quoth, the porter then, 
60 " the reward is soe great I cannott say nay ; 
there is a noble-man standing by, 

hirst He goe heare what hee will say." 

the nobleman then came to the gates, 
64 & asked him what his busines might bee : 

"nay, soft," quoth the ffellow, " I tell thee not yett, 
before I doe the K///y himselfe sec ; 

itt Avas told me ere I came ffrom home, 
68 that gentlemens hounds eaten arrands by the way, 

& pore curr doggs may eatc mine ' ; 

therfore I meane my owne arrands 2 to say." 

"but & thou come in," saies the Porter then, 
72 " thy bumble staffc behind wee must stay." 



and offers 
the porter a 
penny to let 
hiin in. 



The porter 



fetches a 
nobleman, 



who asks 
the man 
what his 
business is. 

"I'll tell the 
Kingnn Belf. 



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 POKE MAN AND THE K.INGE. 



"No, I 
shan't ; 



the court 
bankrupts 
may rob 
me." 



The poor 
man is led 
to a noble- 
man, 



whom he 
first takes 
for the King, 



and then 
offers -id. to 
biing him to 
the King. 



The noble- 
man says 
he'll ask the 
King ; 



does so ; 



" beshrow the, Lyar," then said the pore man, 

" then may thou terme me a foole, or a worsse ; 
I know not what bankrouts bee about our 'King, 
76 for lacke of mony wold take my pursse." 

" hold him backe," then said the noble-man, 

" & more of his speech wee will haue soone ; 
He 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 Sir 'King,'''' then said the pore man, 

" you are the goodly est 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 King, & youle bring me to him, 
ffor youv reward He giue you a groat." 



92 



96 



100 



" I thanke you, Sir," saith the Noble-man, 
" jour reward is soe great, I cannott say nay ; 

He hirst goe know our Km^s pleasure ; 
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 
country e ; 

I cold haue gone to ffarmost nooke in the house, 

Neither Ladd nor man to haue troubled mee." [ pag e 4-2G] 



the noble-man went before our Kinge, 

soe well hee knew his curtesye, 
" there is one of the rankest clownes att yo«r gates 
104 that euer Englishman did see. 



THE TOllE MAN AND THE KINGE. 



201 



" he calles them knaues your hignes keepe, 

with-all hee calls them somewhatt worsse, 
he dare uot come in w/thout a longe stafFe, 
108 hees ffeard lest some bankrout shold pike his pursse. 

" lett him come in," then said our King, 
" lett him come in, and his staffe too ; 
weele see how he can answer eueiy 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 gallery es hye : 
" what does our K.mg 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," the noble-man sayd, 
120 " looke thee, good Bellow, yond hee goes by ! " 

"belike hee is some vnthrifft," 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 JLmg hath Laid some of his clothes away ; 



and the 
King 

answers " let 
him come 
in." 



The pooi- 
man 



ask? 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, 



& when the noble-man came before our K.huj, 
128 soe well hee knew his curtesie, 
the pore man ffollowed after him, 

gaue a nodd with his head, & a becke w/tli his 
knee : 



"& if you be the king," then said the pore man, 
152 " as I can hardly thinke you bee, 

this goodly ffellow that brought mu hither, 
seemes liker to be a "King then yee." 



and tells 
him the 
nobleman 
Looks mors 
like a king 
than he 
doi . 



Joo. — Dyce. 



202 



TJIE PORE MAN AND THE KINUE. 



But the 
King saj s lie 
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, 



" I am tlie K.mg, & the 'King indeede ; 
136 lett me thy matter vnderstand." 

then the pore man ffell downe on his knees : 
" I am jour tennant on jour owne good Land, 

" & there is a Lawyer dwells me by, 
140 a ffault in my lease, god wott, hee hath found, 
& all is for ffelling of 5 ashe trees 

to build me a house in my owne good ground. 

" I bade him lett me & my ground alone, 
1 44 & cease himselfe, if that hee was willing, 
& pike no vantage out of my Lease ; 

he seemed a good ffellow, I wold giue him 40 1 ? - 



" 40* nor 401' 
148 wold not agree this lawer and mee, 1 
unless he'll without I wold giue him of my farme ground, 

some of his & stand to his good curtesye. 

land. 

" I said, ' 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.' ' 



"Have yon 
your lease V ' 
says the 
King. 

" Here it is 
if you can 
read it." 

" What if I 
can't ? " 



" My boy of 
13 can." 



" but hast thou thy Lease eene thee vppon, 
156 or canst thou shew to mee thy deede ? ' 
he pulled itt fforth of his bosome, 

& saies, " heere my Leege, if you cann reeade." 

" what if I cannott ? " then sayes our King, 
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.' 



Lines 1 17 and 118 arc written as ono in the MS. — F. 



THE POKE MAN AND THE KINGE. 



203 



" I can neuer gett these knotts Loose," then said our 
■JLing ; 
164 hee gaue itt a gentleman stood liim hard by. 
" thats a proud horsse," then said the pore man, 
" that will not carry his owne prouentye ; 

" & yee paid me 5* rent as I doe yee, 
168 I wold not be to proud to loose a knott ; 
but giuet me againe, & He loose itt for ye, 
soe that in my rent youle bate mee a groate." 

an l old man tooke this Lease in his hande, 
172 & the "Kings maiesty stoode soe, 

" He warrant thee, pore man, & thy ground, 
if 2 thou had ffallen 5 ashes more. 3 " 

" Alas to-day ! " then said the pore man, 
176 " now hold jour tonge, 4 & trouble not mee ; 
hee that troubles me this day with, this matter, 
Cares neither for jour warrantts, you, nor mee." 

" He make thee attachment, ffoole," hee sayes, [page 427] 
180 " that all that sees itt shall take thy port, 
vntill hee haue paid thee a 100 h 

thoust tye him to a tree that hee cannott start." 

" I thanke you, Sir," said the poreman then : 
184 " about this Matter, sith you haue beene willingc, 
& seemed to doe the best you canri, 

with all my heart He giue you a shillinge." 

" a plaugc on thy knaues hart ! " then said our Kmg, 
188 " this mony on my skin 5 Lyes soe cold." 
he fflang itt into the Kings Bossome, 

because in his hand he wold itt not hold. 



" I can't 
read it," 
says the 
Kiug. 



" More 
shamo to 
you," says 
the poor 
man ; 



" I'll read it 
for you if 

you'll let me 
off Ad. rent !" 



The King 
tell? him 
he'll war- 
rant him his 
ground. 

"Warrant! 
the lawyer 
don't care 
for you or 
your war- 
rants." 



" Well 
then," says 
the King, 
"tie the 
lawyer up to 
a tree till he 
pays you 
100/." 



"Thank 
you, that'll 
do, 



and I'll give 
you 1»." 



which he 
throws into 
the King's 
bosom. 



1 the— F. 

- i.e. even if.— 

3 moe. — Dyce. 



Skc;tt. 



* Another letter blotched with e follow; 
in the MS.— F. 

* MS. skim.— F. 



204 



The King 
gives him 
100/. 



THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE. 

the K.mg called his tresurer, 
192 saies " count nie downe a 100 1 ' — 

since lie hath, spent mony by the way, — 

to bring him home to his owne good ground." 



when the 100'/ was counted, 
196 to receiue 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." 



When the 

poor man 
comes 
home, 
the lawyer 
asks him 
where he 
has been. 



the Lawyer came to welcome him 
200 when hee came home vppon a Sunday : 

" where haue you beene, Neihbor ? " hee sayes, 
" methinkes you haue beene long away." 



'• To the 
King, 



" I haue beene att the ~King" the poore man said. 
204 " & what the deuill didest thou doe there ? 
cold not our neihbors haue agreede vs, 
but thou must goe soe ffarr ffrom heere ? ' 



" there cold no neighbors haue agreed thee & me, 
who's told 208 nor halfe soe well haue pleased my hart ; 
up e tniyou° U vntill thou haue payd mee a 100 U , 

l'oo/. 1 " 6 He tye thee to a tree, thou cannott start." 



The lawyer 
pays the 
money. 



when the 100" was counted, 
212 to receiue itt the poreman was most willing ; 
& for the paines in the Law hee had taken, 
hee wold not giue him againe one shilling." 



May God 
serve all 

lawyers so, 

and let us 
live in 
peace 



god send all Lawyers thus well serued ! 
216 then ' may pore ffarmers Hue in rest. 2 
god blesse & sane our noble Kinge, 
& send vs all to Hue in peace ! 



flinis. 



MS. them.— F. 



ease.- 



-Dycc. 



205 



Mx : loinx Sutler * 

In a u Booke of Survey of the Baronye of Warintori in the 
countie of Lancaster, Parcell of the possessions of the Eight 
Honorable Bobert Erie of Leicester, baron of Denbigh," as taken 
ou 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 draw- 
bridge. 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 100/. The 
other half is of new building and not decayed, being one great cham- 
ber, 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 3 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 12B) 



206 SIK IOHN BUTLER. 

bought the manor of Burton wood from Eobert de Ferrariis. 1 
Here be 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 cajpite, 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. Angustin 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. Pie 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 Kotuli 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 Gent. Mag. Dec. L863, p, 755. 3 Lancashire Chantries. (CTieth. Sec), 

Froissart, vol. ii. p. 9, cap. 86. p. 67. 4 Rot. Pari. iv. 497-8. 



2 



SIR IOII.N BUTLER. 207 

traditions of the neighbourhood, and of the narrative of Dods- 
worth. 

The Old Church, as it is al\va} 7 s 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 re- 
built 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, but the tombs have been Left is the chancel. 



208 SIR IOIIN BUTLER. 

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 
l>y 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, was 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 
tiling pass as a matter of course. The traitor steward was pro- 
mised great exaltation, and they hanged him on an oak as they 
came awa} 7 through the park. A tree pointed out as the in- 
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 centuiy, 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 VII. 
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 cen- 

its 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 hy 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 Iiondon, dreamed that night that Bewsey Hall swam with blood. 
She indicted twenty men for the murder; but after marrying 
Lord Gfrey, he made her suit void. Upon which she left him 
and came back into Lancashire, and said, ' 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 
Holcroft, 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 alto- 
gether at variance with facts. During the whole of the reign of 
Henry VII. the lord of Bewsey was Sir Thomas Butler, who suc- 
ceeded (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 Kotuu Parliame.ntoru.u, 

1 Unit. Mag. Sqt. 1: 03. 
VOL. III. I' 



210 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 sruilt 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 1-527, 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 ac- 
quainted with the family, and before L.ord Stanley was made 
Earl of Derby. The introduction of Ellen Butler as Sir John's 
daughter, may have been a mistake, or put, euphonioi 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 the 



SIR IOHX 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.) 



1)LTT word is come to warrington, 

& Busye hall is laid about ; 
S/r Iohn Butler and his merry men 
4 stand in ffull great donbt. 



Busye Hall 
is sur- 
rounded, 
and Sir J. 
Butler in 
danger. 



when they came to Busye hall 
itt was the merke ! midnight, 

and all the bridges were vp draw en, 
and neuer a candle Light. 



At midnight 
his takers 
come : 



12 



there they made them one good boate, 
all of one good Bull skinn ; 

WiUlniii Sauage was one of the ffirst 
that euer came itt within. 



on a bull- 
skin boat 



hoe sayled ore his merrymen 

by 2 and 2 together, 
& said itt was as good a bote 
16 as ere was made of lether. 



cross over 
the moat. 



1 merke, dark; MS. may be merle. — F. 
p2 



212 



SIR IOHN BUTLER. 



Ellen Butler 
rouses her 
father. 

His uncle 
Stanley is 
there. 



20 



" waken you, waken you, deare ffather ! 

god waken you within ! 
for lieere is jour vnckle standlye 

come your kail w/tkin." 



No money 
will save 
him. 



" if that be true, Ellen Butler, 
tkese tydings you tell mee, 
a 100 V in good redd gold 
24 tkis nigkt will not borrow mee." 



Ellen comes 
down to the 
hall. 



then ! came downe Ellen Butler 

& into ker ffatkers kail, 
& tken came downe Ellen Butler, 
28 & skee was laced in pall. 



" Where is 
your 
father? " 

" Gone to 
London, 
I swear." 



" wkere is thy ffather, Ellen Butler ? 

haue done, and tell itt mee." 
" my ffather is now to London ridden, 
32 as Christ shall haue paH of mee." 



" No, he is 
not; 



we must 
have him." 



" Now nay, Now nay, Ellen Butler, 

ffor soe itt must not bee ; 
ffor ere I goe fforth of this hall, 
36 yowr ffather I must see." 



[page 428] 



They search, the sought that ball then vp and downe 2 

theras Iohn Butler Lay 2 ; 
the sought that hall then vp and downe 
40 theras Iohn Butler Lay ; 



find him, 



44 



ffaire him ffall, litle Holcrofft ! 

soe Merrilyc he kept tke dore, 
till that kis kead ffrom his skoulders 

came tumbling downe tke ffloore. 



1 MS. them.— F. in the MS., but they are marked with a. 

2 These two lines only of the four are bracket and bis. — F. 



SIR IOHN BUTLER. 



213 



" yeeld thee, yeelde thee, Iohn Butler ! 

yeelde thee now to mee ! " 
" I will yeelde me to rny vnckle Stanlye, 
48 & neere to fFalse Peeter Lee." 



and summon 
him to yield. 



" a preist, a preist," saies Ellen Butler, 

" to housle and to shriue ! 
a preist, a preist," sais Ellen Butler, 
5:* " while that my father is a man aliue ! " 



"A priest to 
shrive my 
father," says 
Ellen. 



then bespake him will/Vim Sauage, — 

a shames death may hee dye ! — 
sayes, " he shall haue no other preist 
56 but my bright sword and mee." 



" No priest 
but my 
sword," says 
Savage. 



the Ladye Butler is to London rydden, 
shee had better haue beene att home, 
shee might haue beggd her owne marryed LorcZ 
60 att her good Brother Iohn. 



Lady Butler 
is in 
London. 



& as shee lay in leeue London, 

& as shee lay in her bedd, 
shee dreamed her owne marryed LorcZ 
64 was swiminnge in blood soe red. 



She dreams 

that her 
lord swims 
in blood, 



shee called vp her merry men all 

long ere itt was day, 
saies, " wee must ryde to Busye hall 
68 w/th all speed that wee may." 



calls up her 
men 



and rides 
homeward. 



shee mett w/th 3 Kendall men 

were ryding by the way : 
" tydings, tydings, Kendall men, 
72 I pray you tell itt mee ! " 



She moot s 
Kendal men, 

and asks 
tidings. 



214 



SIR IOIIN 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 
niarrv Lord 
Gray." 



" heauy tydings, deare Madam ! 

ffrom you wee will not Learie, 1 
tlie worthyest K.niyht in merry England, 
76 Iohn Butler, Lord ! liee is slaine ! ' : 

" ffarewell, ffarwell, Iolm Butler ! 

ffor tliee I must neuer see. 
fFarewell, ffarwell, Busiye hall ! 
SO for thee I will neuer come nye." 

Now Ladye Butler is to London againe, 

in all the speed might bee ; 
& when shee came before her prince, 
84 shee kneeled low downe on her knee : 

" a boone, a boone, my Leege ! " shee sayes, 

" ffor gods lone grant itt mee ! " 
" what is thy boone, Lady Butler 2 ? 
88 or what wold thou haue of mee 2 ? " 

" what is thy boone, Lady Butler? 
or what wold thou haue of mee ? 
" that ffalse Peeres of Lee, & my brother Stanley, 
02 & william Sauage, and all, may dye." 

" come you hither, Lady Butler, 

come you ower this stone ; 
wold you haue 3 men ffor to dye, 
9G all ffor the losse off one ? 

" come you hither, Lady Butler, 

with all the speed you may ; 
if thou wilt come to London, LacZ// Butler, 
100 thou shalt goe home Lady Gray." 

ffinis. 



1 O. N. leina, to conceal. — F. Leone How far south it extends I don't know, 

is a Cheshire pronunciation for layne, con- but about Frodsham it is very peculiar, 

ceal. This provincialism occurs in tho — Dr. Robson. 

previous stanza, where way rhymes to vice, 2 These two lines are bracketed, and 

and elsewhere in the ballad (1. 83-8). marked Us in the MS. — F. 



215 



mm i £>trtoart & M)in 

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 w. 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 com- 
pensation 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 etseq., vv. 312, 313). 

Football matches had not unfrequently, as here, a second 
object — not often, perhaps, so pacific a one as here. "The war- 
like convocations [of the borderers]," says Scott, "were frequently 
disguised under pretence of meetings for the purpose of spoil. 



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 I 



I sing of 
Will Slew-art 
and John. 



Will takes 
to his bed 
for love of 
the Earl of 

[page 429] 
Mar*s 
daughter. 



John asks 
him what ho 
mourns for ; 



Void 



or a girl ? 



ADLATTS : parke is wyde and broad, 
& grasse growes greene in our countrye ; 
eche man can gett the lone of his Ladye, 
4 but alas, I can gett none of mine ! 

itts by 2 men I sing my song, 

their names is william Stewart and Iohn : 
wilKom he is the Elder brother, 
8 but Iohn hee is the wiser man. 1 

but willmm he is in carebed Layd, 
& for the lone 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. 

then Iohn was sorry ffor his brother, 

to see him lye and languish soe : 
" what doe you mourne for, brother ? " he saies, 
1G "I pray you tell to me jour woe. 

" doe [you 2 ] mourne for gold, brother ? " he saies, 

" or doe you mourne ffor ffee ? 
or doc von mourne for a like-sonic Ladye 
20 you ncuor saw her with your eye?" 



num. F 



you. 



WILL STEWART AND IOHX. 



217 



24 



"I doe not mourne for gold," lie saies, 
" nor I doe not mourne for any ffee ; 

but I doe mourne for a likesome Ladye, 
I neere blinke on her w/th mine eye." 



"A beautiful 
lady." . 



" but ■when haruest is gotten, my decre brother,- 

all this is true that I tell thee, — 
gentlemen, they loue hunting well, 
28 & giue wight men their cloth & ffee ; 



" Well, after 
harvest, 

when allow- 
ances are 
given out, 



" then He 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." 



I'll go 
wooing for 
you, Will, 

and hope to 
send you 
good news." 



Iohn Stewart is gone a wooing for his brother 

soe ffarr into ffaire Scottland, 
& left his brother in mikle ffeare 
3C vntill he heard the good tydand. 1 



So John 
goes 



& when he came to the Erie of Mars his house, 

soe well he could his curtesye, 
& when he came before the Erie, 
40 he kneeled Low downe vpon his knee. 

" rise vp, rise vp, Iohn Steward ! 

rise vp, now, I doe bidd thee ; 
how doth thy ffather, Iohn Stewart, 
44 & all the Lords in his country e ? " 



to the Earl 
of Mar, 



kneels down 
to him. 



" & itt please you, my Jjord, my ffather is dead, 

my brother & I cannott agree, 
my brother & I am ffallen att discoid, 
48 & I am come to craue a service of thee." 



and says, 
" M> father's 
dead; my 
brother and 

1 can't 
agree ; take 
me into your 
service." 



i.e. tidings. — P. 



~ ' 



' '■ -■!• 
I- •-.,•• .-f- 



. .^_ -r _ - — " _a~ 



- : - , _j* 



Till 5 

II ■£ 



— _. _ 
: 



: . _ 

:^v- '. Doe *r — 

- _ .. . 
i v~ ~~r - . 

i 

: 
■ : " 



.„.-- 




_ - : - ' 
-. - - -. -- - m 



WILL STEWART AND IOHN. 



219 



•• lie is a Lord now borne by birth, 

& an Erie ati'ter his fl'ather doth dye ; 
his haire is yellow, his eyes beene gray ; 
80 all this is true that I tell yee. 

"he is ffine in the middle, & small in the wast, 

& pleasant in a womans eye ; 
it more nor this, he dyes for your Louo, 
84 Therfore, Lady, show some pittye." [page430] 



that hia 

r, an 
Earl, 

yellow- 
iiaircd, 
grey-eyed, 



small- 
vaisted. 



is dying for 
her love. 



" If this be soe," then saies the Lady, 
" If this be true that thou tells mee, 
by my ffaith then, Iohn Stewart, 
88 I can loue him hartilye. 

" bidd him meete me att S' Patr[i]ekes Church 
on Sunday after S' Andrews day ; 

the fflower of Scottland will be there, 
& then begins our summers play. 

" & bidd him briug w<'th him a 100 gunners, 

& rawnke l ryders lctt them bee, 
it lett fchem bee of the rankest ryders 
or, that be to he Sound in that country 



She say 



she can love 
him, 



and he is to 
meet her 



at their 

Summer 

Games, 

with H I 
gunners, 



" they 3 best & worst, & all in Like, 

bidd him cloth them in one Liuerye ; 
& ffbr his men, green (j is the 1" 
100 &. greene now lctt their liueryes bee; 



clad iill in 

green, 



132 [of ' Line 

from 527, I. 298 of 

rolume] where it is ranke ryders. 
. ] > 
, and in the plural n 
, rink up & down ; di 
eirenmire, from Belg. nncken, flectere. 
] Pag. I .'5 7, L 15 : The fiut< mennis 
. 'I he I.' men. 

L38. 18, 32, I end, The 



end of the Com-,'. So Pag. 193. 52, 
Solisque viae is rendered The Sonnys 
renke, M. 6. 796. So Mn. 7. 802, 
queril ih r. lekia hie renk, Nil. rank 
nder is still us, ■ I in Leicestershire, & 
Hignifii - .i I.' en eager rider, one thai dol b 
pare horse-flesh. P. 

to be made over an rl, 

],. ill of which is left. — F. 

1 the. P. 



220 



WILL STEWART AND IOHN. 



himself in 
scarlet, 



104 



" & clothe hiinselfe in scarlett redd, 
thai is soe seemlye ffor to see ; 

ffor scarlett is a ffaire Coulonr, 

& pleasant allwayes in a womans eye. 



and then 
win 

most of the 
Iti games. 



" he must play sixteene games att ball 

against the men of this countrye, 
& if he winn the greater part 
108 then I shall [Love] l him more tenderlye." 



John writes 
all this to 
his brother 
Will. 



Will leaps 
out of bed, 



what the Lady said, Iohn Stewart writt, 

& to Argyle Castle sent it hee ; 
& 2 [when] Willie steward saw the letter, 
112 fforth of care-bed then Lope hee. 



musters his 



223 men, 



hee mustered together his merry men all, 

hee mustered them soe louelilye, 
hee thought hee had had scarson halfe a ] GO'. 1 
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 countrye, 
he cladd them all in one Coulour, 
120 & greene I- wis their liueryes bee. 



himself in 
scarlet, 



he cladd himselfe in scarlett redd, 
that is soe seemelye ffor to see ;- 
ffor scarlett is a ffaire coulor, 
124 & seemlye in a womans eye ; — 



and goes to 
St. Patrick's 
Church. 



& then towards Patrioke Church he went 

with 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 
liaiul between then and /. -F. 



2 When.— P. 



"WILL STEWART AND IOILN. 



221 



when they came to Patrickes churche, 

shee kneeled downe by her mother trulye : 
" Mother, if itt please you to giue me leane, 
132 the Stewarts horsse ffaine wold I see." 

" He giue you leaue, my deere daughter, 

& I and my maide will goe wt'th yee : " 
the Lady had rather haue gone her selfe, 
136 then haue had her mothers companye. 



His Lady 

asks 

her mother 

to let her go 

and see 

the Stewarts. 



when they came before Willie Steward, 

soe well hee cold his curtesye, 
" I wold kisse your daughter, Ladye," he said, 
140 " & if yottr will that soe itt bee." 

the Ladyes mother was content 

to doe a straunger that curtesye ; 
& when willie had gotten a kisse, 



144 



I- wis shee might haue teemed him 3. 1 



When they 
pee Will, 

he asks for a 
kiss from the 
daughter. 



She agrees, 



and Will 
takes it. 



16 games were plaid that day there, — 

this is the truth as I doe say, — 
willie stewart & his merry men, 
148 the carryed 12 of them away. 

& when they games that they were done, 

& all they ffolkes away were gone 
but the Erie of Marrs & William Stewart, 
152 & the Erie wold needs haue Wilh'am home. 



lie 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 greenc ; 
ffor to confferr of their bussines, 
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.te&m, a I weene [added by] — P. 
issue, offspring, anything following in ;i 



222 



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, 



160 



" I loue jour daughter, " saies william stewart, 
" but I cannott tell whether she loueth mee." 

" Marry, god defend," saies the Erie of March, 
" 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, 
1 64 & 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 He beate thee before the Stewarts eye." 

& then bespake wilh'am stewart, 
. these were the words said hee, 
" if thou beate thy daughter for my sake, 
172 thoust beate a 1001 men and mee. 1 ' 



and John 
rebukes him 
for his 
discourtesy. 



176 



then bespake Iohn stewart, — 

Jjord ! an angry man was hee, — 
" O Churl e, if thou wouldest not haue macht with 
my brother, 

thou might 2 haue answerd him curteouslye." 



The Earl 
threatens 
John with 




loss of 


180 


service. 




" Hang your 
service," 

says John ; 




"I hold to 
my brother." 


184 


l 


MS. nee 



" hold thy peace, Iohn Stewart, 

& chamber thy words now, I bidd thee ; 

if thou chamber not thy words soone, 

thoust loose a good service ; soe shalt thou doc me." 

"Marry! hang them that cares," saies Iohn Stewart, 

"either ffor thy service or ffor thee ! 
services can I haue enoughc, 

but brethren wee must cucr bee." 

— F. 2 Two strokes for the i in the MS. -F. 



WILL STEWART AND IOIIN. 



223 



188 



■wVliam Stewart & his brother Iohn, 
to Argyle Castle gon they bee ; 

& when willye came to Argyle Castle, 
into carebedd then lope hee. 



Tlie brothers 
go back to 
Argvle 
Castle, 
and Will 
takes to his 
bed again. 



A Parlaiment att Edenborrow was made, 
the King & his Nobles all mett there ; 
the sent ffor wilKeww stewart & Iohn, 
192 to come amongst l the other peeres. 



A parlia- 
ment 
is held at 
Edin- 
burgh. 
Will and 
John go, 



their clothing was of scarlett redd, 
that was soe seemelye ffor to see ; 
blacke hatts, white ffeathers plewed 2 with gold, 
196 & sett all on their heads trnlye. 



gaily clad. 



their stockings were of twisted silke, 

with garters ffringed about with gold, 
their shoes were of the Cordevine, 3 
200 & all was comelye to behold. 



& when they came to Edenborrowe, 

they called ffor Iohn Steward & Willie : 
I answer in A 4 Lorc?s roome," saies will Stewart, 
204 " but an Erie I hope to bee." 



Will is 
called, and 
answers as 
a Lord. 



208 



" come downe, come downe," saies the Lort? of Mars, The Earl of 
" I knew not what was thy degree." 



Mai says ho 
didn't know 
his rank 

" churle, if I might not haue macht with, thy before. 



daughter, 
itt had not beene long of my degree. 



1 The MS. has four strokes for the m. 
— F. 

2 Perhaps pleitcd, ph'tcd, i.e. plaited 
or plated. — P. Fr. plier, to plait, plie, 
bend, tunic, wrie. Cotgrave. — F. 



' Cordovine, i.e. Cordwane, Spanish, 
or Cordovan Leather, from Cordova, in 
Spain. Johns. — P. 

* 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, liee is the Kwig his brother, 

& then the K.ing is vnckle to me ; 
Churle, if I might not haue macht with, thy 



daughter, 



212 itt had not beene long of my degree." 



The King 
says he'll 



216 



" hold jour peace," then sayd the ~Kmg, 
" Cozen william, I doe bidd thee ; 

infaith, Cozen wilh'am, he loues you the worsse 
because you are a-kinn to mee. 



make Will 
an Earl, 



John a Lord, 



"He make thee an Erie with a siluer wan.de, 

& 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 Kester l shalbe a 'Knight, 

lands & liuings I will him giue, 
& still hee shall Hue in Court with mee, 
224 & He maintaine him whilest he doth Hue." 



& when the parlaiment was done, 

& all the ffolkes away w T ere gone, 
willye stewart & Iohn his brother, 
228 to Argyle Castle they be gone. 



Will and 
John go 
home, 



and Will 

falls love- 
sick again. 



but when they came to Argyle Castle 

That was soe flfarr in that Countrye, 2 
he thought soe much then of his lone, 
232 that into carebedd then lope hee. 



[page iS-2] 



John 
promises to 

go wooing 
once more 
for him, 



Iohn Stewart did see his brother soe ill : 
Jjord ! in his heart that hee was woe ; 
" I will goe wooing for thy sake 
23G againe yonder gay Ladye to. 



1 cp. Kester Norton, vol. ii. p. 212, 
1. 61.— F. 



2 Perhaps West Country, but it is 
North Country below. — P. 



WILL STEWAltT AND IOHN. 



225 



240 



" lie cloth my sclfe in strange array, 
in a beggars liabbitt I will goe, 

that when I come before the Erie of March 
my clothing strange he shall not knowe." 



clad as a 
beggar, 



Iohn hee gott on a clouted cloake, 

soe meete 1 & low then by his knee, 
with 4 garters vpon one Legg, 
244 2 aboue, & towe below trulye. 



with four 
garters on 
one leg. 



" but if thou be a beggar, brother, 

thou art a beggar that is vnknowne ; 
ffor thou art one of the stoutest beggars 
248 that euer I saw since I was borne. 



Will 



" 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." 



gives him] 
a gold ring 
to show to 
his lady luve. 



" stay, by my ffaith, I goe not yett," 

Iohn steward he can replye ; 
" lie haue my bottle null of beere, 
256 the best that is in thy buttery e ; 

"lie 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." 

& when he came to the Erie of Marrs house, 

by chance itt was of the dole day ; 

but Iohn cold ffind no place to stand 

264 vntill he came to the Ladye gaye. 



John fills his 
bottle with 
beer, * 



his satchel 
with meat, 



and foes to 
the Uarl of 
Mar's on 
Distribution 
Day. 

John gets 
near the 
lady, 



1 A.-S. 'micle and mate' greal and Gloss, to Piers Plowman's Crede. — F. 
small: Guthlao, 1. 24, ed. (in in. Skeat's - here give. — P. 

Mil,. III. Q 



226 



WILL STEWART AND IOHN. 



268 



but many a beggar be tbrew downe, 
and made tbem all with weeping say, 

"he is the devill, bee is no beggar, 

that is come fforth of some strange countrye ! " 



and after the 
doles are 
given, 



& 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. 



tells her 



who he is. 



" 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." 



She asks " but if thou be Iohn stewart, 

as I doe thinke that thou bee, 
avayle 1 thy capp, avayle thy hoode, 
280 & I will stand & speake to thee. 



how Will is. 



"Ill, through 
you." 



She weeps, 



and says 
she'll meet 



Will at 
Martirjgs- 
dale In three 
days. 



" how doth thy brother, Iohn stewart, 

& all the Lords in his countrye ? " 
" ffye vpon thee, wicked woman ! 
284 my brother he doth the worsse ffor thee." 

With that the teares stood in her eyes ; 

. lord ! shee wept soe tenderlye ; 
sais, " ligg the blame vnto my ffather ; 



lays the 

blame on her 288 I pray you, Iohn steward, Lay itt not to mee 

father, 



"contend 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 3. 



' pull down, from Fr. a vat. — F. 



WILL STEWART AND IOIIN. 



227 



296 



" hang tliem," sais the Lady gay, 

" that letts their 1 ffather witting bee ! 

lie proue a Ladye ffull of loue, 

& be there by the sunn be a quarter highe. 



" & bidd hini bring with him a 100? gunners, 2 

& ranke riders lett them bee, 
lett them be of the rankest ryders 3 
300 that be to be ffound in that Countrye. 



" Let him 
bring 100 
gunners 
with him, 



" 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 ; fpage 433] 



clad all in 
green, 



" & cloth himselfe in Scarlett Redd, 

that is soe seemelye for to see ; 
for scarlett is a ffaire Coulor, 
308 & pleasant in a womans eye." 



while he's in 
scarlet." 



what they Lady sayd, Iohn steward writt, 

to Argyle Castle sent itt hee ; 
his bagg & his dish, & showing borne, 
312 vnto 3 beggars he gaue them all 3. 



John sends 
this message 
to Will. 



& 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 menymen all, 

he mustered them soe louinglye ; 
he thought he had had scarce halfe a 100,i," 
320 then had hee 11 score and three. 



Will jumps 
out of bed, 



musters his 
l".':; men, 



1 my. — F. ili'' other for the s of this word in the 

- »/'in place of nn in the MS.— F. MS.— F. 

3 Two or three Letters appear one over 

ft 2 



22* 



WILL STEWART AND IOHN. 



chooses the 
100 best, 



and posts to 

Martings- 

dale. 



There his 
love 
meets him, 



324 



lie chose fforth a 100 d of the best 

that were to be found in that companye, 

& presentlye they tooke their horsse, 
& 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. 



kisses him 
and John, 



shee kisst wilKam stewart & his brother Iohn, 

soe did shee part of his merry men : 
" if the Churle, thy ffather, hee were here, 
332 he shold not haue thee backe againe." 



marries him, 

goes home 
with him, 



they sent ffor preist, they sent ffor Clarke, 
& they were marryed there with speede ; 
William tooke the Lady home * with him, 
336 & they liued together long time indeed. 



and is soon 
great with 
child. 

John goes 
to the Earl 
of Mar. 



& in 12 monthe soe they wrought, 

the Lady shee was great with childe; 
the sent Iohn stewart to the Erie off Marre 
340 to come & chr[i]sten the barne soe milde. 



The Earl 
hopes Will 
has married 
his 
daughter. 



"And if this be soe," sayes the Erie of Marre, 

" Iohn stewart, as thou tells mee ; 
I hope in god you haue marryed my daughter, 
344 & put her bodye to honestye." 



No, he 
hasn't, says 
John, 

and he'll send 

her home to 
you. 



348 



" Nay, by my ffaith," then saies Iohn stewart, 
" ffor euer alas that shall not bee ; 

ffor now wee haue put her body to shame, 
thoust haue her againe hame to thee." 



// instead of m in the MS. — F. 



WILL STEWA15T AND IOIIN. 



229 



352 



" I had rather make thee Erie of Marre, 
& marry my daughter vnto thee ; 

for by my ffaith," sais the Erie of Man-, 
"her marryage is marrd in our countrye." 



" I'd rattier 
you marry 
her then, 
and I'll 
make you 
Earl o'f 
Mar." 



"if this be soe," then sais Iohn stewart, 

" a marryage soone that thou shalt see ; 
ffor my brother william, my ffathers heyre, 
356 shall marry thy daughter before thine eye." 



"No, Will 
'11 marry 
her." 



they sent ffor preist, the sent ffor Clarke, 

& marryed there they were with speed ; 
& william stewart is Erie of Marr, 
360 & his ffather-in-Law dwells with him indeed. 



So Will does, 
and is Earl 
of Mar. 



ffinis. 



230 



^oto tlK Springe fe romr 

This ballad is in the Koxburghe 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 Koxburghe 
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 Christinas' 8 
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 } T ellow 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. 



NOW THE SrRINGE IS COME. 



231 



now spring s 
come, turn 
to thy love ! 



JN O W" the spring is come, turne to thy loue, to thy loue, Dearest 

to thy loue, to thy loue, without delay ! 
where the mowers spring, & birds doe singe 

their sweete tunes : jj : Jf : doe not stay ! 
where I shall mil thy lapp w/th mowers, 
& couer thee wrth shady bowers. 

Come away, Come awaye, Come away ! 

Come away, & doe not stay ! 



12 



Shall I languish still for 1 thy loue, 

still ffor thy loue : jj : }f : w/thout releffe ? 

shall my ffaith soe well aproued 
now dispayre : j : fl : with my greeffe ? 

where shall vertue then be ffound 

but where bewtye doth abound ? Come away ! &c. 



[page 434] Let me not 
languish. 



Leave ine 
not to 
despair ! 



mora heere hath made a bedd ffor my loue, 
1 6 ffor my loue : ft : }{ : of roses redd. 

Phebus beames to stay are bent, 

ffor to yeeld : jf : ff : my loue content, 

& the pleasant Eglantine 
20 m[i]xt 2 with a 1000 mowers fine. Come away ! &c. 



Here is a bed 
for thee 

of roses 



and 
eglantine. 



24 



Hearke ! the Nightingale 3 doth singe 

ffor my loue : &c : the woods doe ringe. 

Pan, to please my loue, allwayes 

pipethe there : &c : his round* ■ Lives. 

& the pleasant rushye brookes, 

& euery mower, for my loue lookes. Come away ! &c. 



The nightin- 
gale sings for 
tin e. 



Bewtyes Queen with all her traine 
28 * doth attend : &c : my loue vpon the plaine ; 



Venus waits 
for thee, 



1 Shall I si ill Langwtsh for.— P, 
- mixt. — P. 



3 Mightingale in the .MS. 

1 attends. — P. 



232 



NOW THE SrillNGE IS COME. 



the Muses 

play for thee; 



32 



trippinge Satyres clancinge moue 

delight : &c : my bewtyous loue 

the muses nine, with mnsicke sweete 

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 : that looues thee best ! 
lett sweete pittye moue ! grant loue for loue 
36 like the doue : &c : let our loue for euer rest ! 
crowne my desires we'th a 1000'? ioyes ! 
Come away! thy loue reuiues, thy hate destroyes. Come away! &c. 

ffin[is]. 



233 



£o$iuortI) ffriltrc* 1 



Tins 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. Bat the original compo- 
sition 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 rnmoribus 
quod Regis rebeiles adventum suum in 
Angliam maturant & accelerant; Rex 
a hi em dubius in quo portu applicare in- 
tending, id enim per nullos exploratores 
sibi certitudinaliter afferri potuit; se 
transfert versus Aquilonem, parum ante 
fi'stum I'i nhcisfcs; relicto domino de 
Lovell Camerario suo prope Suthamp- 
toniam, ul classem suam ibi diligenter 
instruat, ut omnes porlus illanim par- 
tium fida observet custodia, ut ipsos 
hostes si inibi applicare curarent, coadu- 
natis viribus omnium circum ineolen- 
tium, debellare non pr:etermitterct. 
Perditis illic sub hac non necessaria 



politia victualibus & pecuniis ***... 
quo Rex tot expensas faceretur, unde 
non falleret sequivocationem vocabuli 
portus illius, qui a multis pro eonim 
descensu describebatnr. Aiunt aliqui 
esse portum in partibus Suthamptonice 
ap])i'liatum Mi'/ordiam, sicut est in 
Wallia. Et quia nonnulli quasi essent 
prophetieo spiritu praditi, praedixerunt 
homines istus in portu de MUford appul- 
suros, consueveruntque prophetise liu- 
jusmodj non in fatnosiori sed in alio 
ssepissime ejusdem noniinis loco suam 
sortiri effectum: Praeterea visus est Rex 
tot propugnacula in ilia Australi parte 
Regni hoc tempore constituisse. Sed 



1 written in ///e Time ul' .lame,- ]*:', see 
lasl Line. Either the Author of this & 
of the Sung in Page 464 [of the MS. 
Ladyc Bessiye, p. 321 below] is the same, 
or one of them has copied almost ver- 



batim fro/« ihe other. Sec Page 441 
ec s.<|" s Tlna-e is a sung of latter date 
on this Subject in the, printed Collection 
12".'" Vol. ;) ; ! p. 47, N. G.— P. 



234 



BOSWOItTII FEILDE. 



frustra. Illi enim primo die Augusti in 
nominatissimo illo portu Milford juxta 
Pembrochiam prospero statu, nulla in- 
vcnta resistentia, applicuerunt. 

Gavisus estRex,audito eorum adventu, 
seu saltern gaudere dissimulavit, scribens 
ubique, jam sibi diem venisse desidera- 
tum, quo de tam exili comitiva facile 
triumphaturus, s\ibjectos a modo indubi- 
tatse pacis benefieiis recomfortet. Interea 
mandata terribilia multiplicibus literis 
ad omnes Regni comitatus dirigit, ne 
ulli hominum, eorum saltern quotquot ad 
aliquas in Eegno hsereditates nati sunt, 
bellnm 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 speraturi sunt, 
quam bona omnia, possessiones, & vitam 
amittere. 

Parum ante istorum hominum appul- 
sum, Thomas de Stanley, senescallus hos- 
pitii Regis, accepta licentia, ut in patriam 
suam Lancastrian, domum & familiam 
suam, unde diu aberat visnrus, transiret, 
non aliter ullam ibi moram trahere per- 
mittebatur, nisi filium suum primogeni- 
tum, Georgimn dominum Lcstrangc, Not- 
ingkamiam ad Regem loco suo transmit- 
teret; quod & fecit. Deinde hominibus 
istis, ut pra;fertur, apud Milfordiam 
Walliee appulsis, facientibusque iter 
suum per aspera & indirecta partium 
Borealium illius Provincial ;ubiJri/fcZ»»fs 
Stanley frater ejusdem Domini Senescalli, 
utpote Camerarius de Northwales, singu- 
lariter praesidebat : niisit Rex ad dictum 
dominum de Stanley, ut omni postposita 
mora, sese Regis conspectui apud Koting- 
hamiam pra-sentaret. Timuit enim Rex 
id quod accidit, ne mater dicti Comitis 
Richmund'ue, quam dictus domiuus de 
Stanley habuit in uxorem, maritum ad 
partes filii tuendas induceret. Ille autem 
mirabili .... pestem sudatorium 
qua laborabat allegans, venire non potuit. 
Filius autem ejus qui clanculum a Rego 
discessum paraverat, discoopertus ab 
insidiis capitur, conjurationem suam & 
patrui sui WUUel/mi Stanley supradicti, 
simul & Johannis Savage Militutn, ad 
partes Comitis Richmundies defensandas, 
a peril, misericordiam postulat, promittit- 
que patreni suum cum omni potent ia in 
Regis auxilium quam citissime adventu- 
ruin. Et super hoc, periculum in quo 



erat, simul cum desiderio hujusmodi 

praestandi auxilii, literis suis patri do- 
nunciat. 

Interim dictis duobus aliis Militibus 
pro proditoribus Regis apud Coventriam 
& alibi publice denunciatis, festinanti- 
busque inimicis, ac dirigentibus vias 
suas die ac nocte recte in faciem Kegis : 
opus erat omnem exercitum, licet non- 
dum integro congregatum, a Notinghamia 
dimittere, venireque ad Leicest riant. 
Ibique compertus est numerus hominum 
pugnatorum ex parte Regis major quam 
antea visus est unquam in Anglia pro 
una parte. Die autem Dominico ante 
festum Bartholomew Apostoli, Rex max- 
ima pompa diadema portans in capite, 
cum Duce Norfolchia? Johanne de Howard, 
ac Henrico Percy Comite Northnrnbrice, 
ceterisque magnificis Dominis, Militibus, 
& armigeris, populariumque multitudine 
infinita, opidum Leicestrense egressus, 
satis per intercursores edoctus, ubi hostes 
sequenii nocte de verisimili manere role- 
bant, ad octo miliaria ab eo opido dis- 
tantia, juxta Abbathiam de MirivaU. 
castra metatus est. 

Majores autem exercitus adversantis 
hi erant: imprimis Henricus Comes do 
Richmond, quem illi suum Regem Hen- 
ricum septimum appellabant ; Johannes 
Vere Comes Oxoniee, Johannes Wellys 
dominus de Wellys, avunculus Regis 
Henrici septimi, Thomas dominus de 
Stanley & Willielmus frater ejus, Ed- 
wardus Widevyll frater Elizabeth Reginse, 
valentissimus miles, Johannes Cheyne, 
Johannes Savage, Robertus Willoughby, 
Willielmus Berkeley, Jacobus Blunt, 
Thomas Arundell, Richardus Egecombe, 
Edwardus Ponyngs, Richardus Gilford, 
& alii plures, tam ante hanc turbat ion- 
em, quam in isto ingressu belli, militari 
online insigniti. De Ecclesiasticis vero 
affuerant consiliarii, qui simile exilium 
perpessi sunt, venei^abilis Pater Petrua 
Episcopus Exoniensis, flos militia? patriae 
sua?, Magister Robertas Moreton Cleriru.s 
Rotulorum Cancellaria?, Crystoferus Urs- 
wyJc, & Johannes Fox, quorum alter Elee- 
mosynarii alter Secretarii offieiutn postea 
consccutus est, cum aliis multis. 

Mane die I/wrus, illucescente aurora, 
cum nou essent Capellani de parte Regis 
Richardi parati ad celebrandum, neque 
ji ntaculum ullum paratum, quod Regis 
tabescentem animum refocillaret ; illeque, 



BOSWOItTII FEILDE. 



235 



ut asseritur, ea nocte terrenda sorania 
quasi multitudine daemonum circunlatus 
esset, viderat, sicut de mane testatus 
est ; faciem uti semper attenuatam, time 
magis discoloratam & mortiferam prae 
se tulit, affirmans quod hujus hodierni 
belli exitus, utrivis parti victoria con- 
cessa fuerit, Eegnum Angl'ue penitus 
distruet : & expressit ruenteni suam 
earn fore, ut si ille victor evadit, omnes 
fautores adversae partis confundat : idque 
ipsum idem praedicebat, adversarium 
suum super benevolos suae partis execu- 
turum, si victoria illi succedat. Deiiique 
ingre[die]utibus moderato passu Principe 
& militibus partis adversae super exer- 
citum Regis ; mandavit ille ut praedictus 
dominus L strange illico decapitaretur. 
Illi autem quibus hoc officium datum 
est, videntes ancipitem rem nimis, ma- 
jorisque ponderis quam uuius hominis 
extermiuium in manibus esse, differentes 
crudele Regis mandatum exequi dimi- 
serunt hominem suo arbitrio, & ad in- 
teriora belli reversi sunt. 

Iuita igitur acerrima pugna inter am- 
bas partes, Comes Richmundue eum mili- 
tibus suis directe super Regem Richard- 
um processit : Comes autem Oxonice, 
major post eum in tota ipsa societate, 
valentissimus miles, in cam alani ubi 
Dux Norfolchia eonstitutus erat, magno 
tain Gallicorum quam Anglicorum conii- 
tatu stipatus tetendit. Iu 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] Comiti Richmundue, jam soli 
Regi victoria, una cum pretiosissima Co- 
rona quam Rex Richardus ante gestavit 
in capito, ccelitus data est. Nun inter 
pugnaudum, & non in fuga, dictus Iwx 
Richardus multis letalibus vulneribua 
ictus, quasi Princeps animosus & auden- 
tissimus in campo occubuit. Deinde 
ptaefato Duco Norfolchue, Richardo Ral- 



clyff Milite, Roberto Brakenbury Milite, 
Constabulario Turris Londoniarum Jo- 
hanncm [sic] Kendall Secretario, Roberto 
Percy Milite, Controrotulatore hospitii 
Regii, ac Waltero Beveercux Domino de 
Ferreis, & multis, maximo Borealibus, 
in quibus Rex Richardus adeo confitebat, 
[sic] ante ullas consertas manus fugam 
ineuntibus : nullae partes dignae sive habi- 
les remanserunt, in quas gloriosus victor 
Hcnricus Septimus alicujus pugnae ex- 
perientiam denuo renovaret. Pace igitur 
ex hoc bello uni verso Regno concessit, 
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 tarn insigniter con- 
quaesita decoratus Leicestriam vadit. 
Dumque haec ita se haberent, multi 
nobiles atque alii in captivitatem redacti 
sunt. Atque in primis Hcnricus Comes 
NorthumbricB, Thomas de Howard Comes 
Surrei, primo genitus dicti defuncti Ducis 
Norfolchice: captus est etiam Willvdmus 
Catesby, qui inter omnes consiliarios 
defuncti jam Regis praeminebat ; cujus 
caput apud Leicestriam pro xiltima re- 
muneratione tam excellentis officii sui 
abscisum est. Duo autem valecti par- 
tium occiduarum Regni, pater & filius 
sub Brecher vocabulo appellat i , qui post 
finitum praelium ad victorum manus de- 
venerant, laqueo suspensi sunt. Et cum 
neque auditum, neque lectioni aut me- 
moriae commendatum est, aliquos alios 
post recessum a bello, similibus suppli- 
ciis deputatos ; sed Principem hunc no- 
vum in omnes suam clementiam impart- 
isse ; ccepit laudari ab omnibus, tanquam 
Angelas do ccelo missus, per quern Deus 
dignaretur visitare plebt-m suam, & libe- 
rare earn do malis quibus hactenus af- 
flicta est supra modum. — Historia Croy- 
landensis Continuatio; Gale, Rerum An- 
glicarum Scriptores, torn. i. p. o72-575. 



vJOD : that shopc both sea and Land, 

& ffoi* all ci'caturcs dyed out tree, 
sauu & kocpe the realme of England 
4 to liuo in pcaco & tranquillity e ! 



May Christ 



keep 

England in 
peace ! 



236 



BOSWORTH FEILDE. 



We have 
cause 

to welcome 
Henry VII. 



Whothought 
England 
would have 
changed 
so soon ? 



We know 



that Henry 
VI. was 

martyred. 



Let us thank 
God for 
Henry VII. 



King 
Edward 



served Jesus. 



St. George, to vs a slieild thou bee ! 

ffor we haue cause to pray, both old & younge, 
wt'th a stedfast hart ffull devatlye, 
8 & say, " welcome Henery, right- wise ' Kmg\ " 

welcome right- wise K.ing, & Ioy royall, 

he that is grounded with grace ! 
welcome the ffortune that hath befall, 
12 w/«'ch hath beene seene in many a place ! 

who wend 2 that England as itt was, 

soe suddenlye changed shold haue beene ? 
therfore lett vs thanke god of his grac e, 
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 Martyrdome of the holy Kmg 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 JLmg ! " 

some time a E»j raigned in this land, 

that was Edward of hye ffelicytyo; 
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 
w/t/ch hath prt'uailed him 3 with royaltyc 
32 to weare the crowne & be our King. 



' rightwise, i.e. righteous. — P. A.-S. 
rihlrjs. —I 1 '. 



- wen'd, ween'd. — P. 

3 ? him superfluous, see 1. 39. — F, 



BOSWORTII FEILDE. 



237 



for with tounge I haue heard it told, 

when Henery was in a ffar cuntrye, 
that 3 times he was bought & sold 
36 throughe the might of gold & ffee. 



Henry VII. 



he serued Iesus ffull hartylye : 

this example may be said by him 
which, preuailed right royallye 
40 to weare the crowne and be our YL'uuj 



[page 435] did so too. 



they banished him ouer the mood, He was 

J banished 

ouer the mood & streames gray ; 
yett his right in England was good, 
44 as herafter know you may. 

there was hee banished ouer the ffloode, 

& into a strange Land they can him x bring ; 
that time Raigned Richard with royaltye, w ^ n . 1T _ 

& J * ' Richard ill. 

48 he ware the crowne & was our Kinge. was king. 



that was well seene att streames stray; 

att Milford hauen, when he did appeare 
with all his Lords in royall array, 
52 he said to them that with, him weare : 



But he 

landed 
at Milford 
Haven, 



" into England I am entred heare, 

my heritage is this Land within ; 
they shall me boldly e bring & beare, 
5G & loose my liffe, but He be King. 

" Iesus that dyed on good ffryday, 

& Marry mild thats Hull of might, 

send me the loue of the LonZ Stanley ! 

60 he marryed my mother, a Lady bright ; 2 



and claimed 
his heritage, 



to be king. 



He prayed 

for the 
help of 

Lord Stanley 



1 MS. hin.— F. 

2 Lord Stanley (afterwards Earl of 
Derby) had marriod as his second wife 



the Countess of Richmond, mother of 
Henry VII. She was his wife as early 
as 1173, if not earlier.- Gr. E. Adams. 



238 



BOSWORTII FEILDE. 



64 



" that is long sith I saw lier with sight ; 

I trust in Iesu wee shall meete with winne, 1 
& I shall maintaine her honor right 

ouer all England when I am Kinge. 



and his 
brother Sir 
William, 



68 



" had I the Lone of that Lord in rich array 

that hath proned his manhood soe well att 
need, 

& his brother S;'r Wilh'am, the good Stanley ; — 
a better Knight neuer vmstrode 2 steede ! 



that noble 
knight. 



72 



" that hath beene seene in mickle dreed : 
much was the worshipp that happened him ; 

a more nobler Knight att neede 
came neuer to maintaine Kinge." 



But we'll 
talk of 
Richard III. 



now leaue wee Heneet, 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 prince 3 in their guiding 4 ; 
nor wicked councell doth mickle deere, 5 
80 that bringeth downe both Emperour & King. 



He con- 
demned 
to death 
Lord 
Stanley 
who won 
Berwick for 
him 



the hord Stanley bothe sterne & stout, — 

he might be called mower of mowers, — man G 
dye. 
that was well seene without doubt 
84 att Barwicke walls with towers hye ; 



1 A.-S. win, pleasure. — F. 

2 bestrode. — P. mi-, um-, means 
' round.' — F. 

3 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 



4 Four strokes for ui in the MS. — F. 
* A.-S. dor, dam, destruction, injury. 



— F. 



maun, i.e. must. — P. 



BOSTVORTII FEILDE. 



239 



when all the Lords of England let itt bee, 

that castle wigktlye can hee whin, 
was there euer Lord in England, ffare or nere, 1 
88 that did such iorney 2 to his Kinge ? 



when no 
other Lord 
could. 



then Richard bade a messenger to ffare 

soe ffare 5 into the west countrye 
to comfort his knights, sqniers lesse & more, 
92 & to set good rule amongst his comintye. 



then wicked councell drew Rich [ard] neere : 

these were they 4 words they said to him, 
"wee thinke yee worke vnwittylye 
96 in England, & 5 yee will continue Kdng. 



His bad 
counsellors 



" ffor why, the horcl Stanley is lent 6 in this Land, 

the Lord Strange, & the Chamber laine 7 ; these 3 
they may show vpon a day a band 
100 such as may noe Lorde in Christentye. 



told him 
Lord Stanley 
and others 
were too 
strong, 



" lett some of them vnder jouv bondage bee, 

if any worshipp you thinke to winn ; 
or else short while continue shall yee 
104 In England to he our Kinge." 



he must put 
them down.' 



then they made out messengers with maine & might s <> 

" ° messengers 

soe ffarr into the west countrye ; ale sent 



to the hord Stanley that noble Knight 
1G8 they kneeled downe vpon their knee 



to Lord 
Stanley 



1 far or nere, or perhaps neie. — P. 

2 A clay's work. — Dyce. Cp. Fr. 
Bonne louvwve fait qui air fol se delivre. 
Pro. he docs an excellent day's work 
that rids himselfe of a foole. Colgrave. 
— 1<\ 

3 far.— P. 



4 the.— P. 

5 an, if. — F. 

6 lend, to dwell, remain, tarry. — 
Halliwell.— F. 

7 John de Vero, Earl of Oxford, Lord 
Chamberlain. — (x. E. A. 



240 



BOSWORTH FEILDE. 



and bid him 



come to the 
King. 



112 



& said, " 'Richard that raignes with royaltye, 
Emperour of England this day within, 

hee longeth you sore, my Lord, to see ; 

you must come & speake with our Kinge." 



He sets off, 



but falls 
sick at Man- 
chester, 



then they Lord husked l him vpon a day 

To ryde to King Richard with royaltye, [P a s e 436 1 
& hee ffell sicke att Manchester hy the way : 
116 as the will of god is, all things must hee. 



and sends on 

Lord 

Strange 

to know 

Richard's 

will. 



the Lord strange then called [he] him nee ; 

these were the words hee said to him : 
" In goodlye hast now ryde must yee 
120 to witt the will of Richard, our Kinge." 



Lord 
Strange 



kneels to 
Richard, 



who 

welcomes 
him with 
kind words 



then this Lord bowned ? bini ffull right 

to ryde to Kmo Richard hastilye. 
when hee came before his souerraigine in sight, 
124 he kneeled downe vpon his knee. 

" welcome Lord strange, & kinsman nye ! " 

these were the words he said to him : 
" was ther eeuer any Baron in England of ancetrye 3 



128 



shold be soe welcome to his Kinge ? " 



but fro ward, 
heart, 



alas that euer he cold soe say, 

soe ffroward a hart as hee had vnder ! 
that was well seene after vpon a day ; 
132 itt cast him & his crowne assunder, 



& brought his body into bale & blunder, 

these wicked words he cold begin ; 
thus ffalshood endeth in shame & wonder, 
136 whether itt be with Emperour or King. 



1 Ltiskrd, i.e. dressed. — P. 

'-' 1 i.-ui.i (1. i.e. ] )( jand.- I. 



3 ancestry. — P. 



liO.sWOKTH FEILDE. 



241 



of itt heere is no more to say, 

but shortly e to ward comanded was liee. 
new messengers were made w/thout delay 
140 soe ffarr into the west country e 

to the hord stnnley soe wise & witty e : 

these were the words the sayd to him, 
"you must raise those that vnder you bee, 
14 4 & all the power that you may bringe ; 



and caste 
liim into 
prison. 
Other 
messengers 
come to 



Lord 

Stanley, 
and say, 

"Raise all 
your men ; 
for 



148 



" yonder cometh Richmond over the mood 
w/th many allyants ' out of ffarr countrye, 

bold men of bone and blood ; 

the crowne of England chalengeth hee. 



"you must raise those that vnder you bee, 

& all the power that yee may bringe, 
or else the hord strange you must neuer see, 
152 which, is in danger of our Kmg." 



Richmond is 
coming 



to claim the 
crown ; 



or you'll 
never see 
Lord 
Strange 
again." 



156 



In a studye this hord can stand, Lord Stanley 

& said, " deere Iesus ! how may this bee? says, 

I draw wittenes to him that shope 2 both sea & 
land, 
that I neuer delt wt'th noe trecherye. 



" Richard is a man that hath no mercye ; 

hee wold mee & mine into bondage bringe ; 
therfore cleane against him will I bee, 
160 of all England though hee bee King." 



"Richard has 
no mercy. 



I am 

against, 
him." 



164 



then another messenger he did appearc 
to wilh'rtm Stanley, that noble Kmght, 



Richard"s 

messenger 
asks Sir 

& saith, " 'Richard that weareth the crowne soe Stanley 



cleare, 

& in his Empire raigneth right, 



i.e. 



allyants, aliens. — P. 



i.e. shaped. — P. 



VuL. 111. 



It 



242 



BOSWORTII FEILDE. 



to help the 
King. 



"What! 
when he 
keeps 



my nephew 
in hold. 



He shall 
repent it 
sore! 



168 



" willeth you to bring your power to helpe him to 
flight; 

ffor all his trust itt is you in." 
then answered that gentle Knight, 

" I haue great marueill of jour King ; 



"he keepeth the [r ] e my nephew, my brothers hey re ; — 

a truer knight is not in christentye ; — 
that, Richard shall repent flull sore, 1 
172 ffor any thing that I can see. 



Let him arm 



and fight, 

and flee or 
die. 



By Mary and 
Christ 



I'll make 
him 
a meal ! 



" bidd him array him with royal tye 

& all the power that hee may bringe ; 
ffor hee shall either flight, 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 him 



to fight and 
flee or die ! " 



184 



" tell thou King Richard these words ffrom mee 
ffor all the power that he may bringe, 

in the ffeild he shall either flight, or fflee, 
or loose his liffe or hee be Kinge." 



The 

messenger 
tells Richard 



how all the 
country 
rebel at Lord 



then this messenger north hee went 

to carry to King RichanZ with royalty e, 
& saith, " in yonder country e I haue beenc sent, 
188 soe greeued men are not in Christentye 



Strange's 
imprison- 
ment. 

He must 
fight, or flee, 
or die. 



" ffor loue of the Lore? strange that in bale doth bee." 

these were the words hee sayd to him : 
" you must either flight or fflee, 
192 or loose your liffe, if you bee Kinge." 



1 sair (i.e. sore). — Dycc. 



BOSWORTII FEILDE. 



243 



196 



att that King- Richard smiled small, 

& sware, " by Iesu ffull of might, 
when they are assembled wtth their powers all, 

I wold I had the great turke against me to flight, 



Richard 
swears that, 
v» hoever 
opposes, 
Tpage 437] 



" or Prester Iolm in his armor bright, 

the Sowdan of Surrey 1 with them to bringe ! 
yett wrth manhood & with might 
200 in England I shold continue Kmg. 



he'll still 
be king, 



" I sweare by Iesu that dyed on a tree, 
& by his mother that mayden blythe, 
firom the towne of Lancaster to Shrewsburye, 
204 'Knight nor squier He leaue none aliue. 



he'll leave no 
Lancashire 
squire alive. 



" I shall kindle their cares rifle, 

& giue their Lands to my Knights keene ; 
many a man shall repent the while 
208 that euer they rose against their King. 



" ffrom the holy-head to S' davids Land, 

where now be towers & castles hye, 
I shall make partes & plaine ffeilds to stand, 
212 flrythes ffaire, & Sbrrests ffree. 



and will lay 
waste Wales, 



" Ladyes, ' well-away ! ' shall crye ; 

widdowes shall weepe, & their hands wringc ; 
many a man shall repent that day 
216 that euer they rose against their Kinge." 



make 

widows 

weep, 

and rebels 
rue. 



then he made out messengers with maine & might 

throughout England ffarr & neerc, 2 
to Duke, Erie, Barron, & Knight, 
220 & to eucry man in his degree. 



He sends 
all over 
England 
for his 
nobles, 



1 Syria. — Robson, 



- noc. 



u 2 



244 



BOSWOIITII FEILDE. 



and they 
come to 
serve their 
King: 



the Duke of 
Norfolk, 
the Earls of 

Kent, 
Shrewsbury, 

Lincoln, 

North- 
umberland, 

Westmore- 
land : 



Lords 
Zouch, 

Maltravers, 

Arundel, 



Wells, 



Grey of 
Codnor, 
Bowes, 

Audley, 



Berkeley, 

Ferrers of 
Chartley, 

Ferrers of 
Groby, 



Fitzhugh, 

Bcrope of 
Upsal, 
Scro])e of 
Bolton, 
Daores, 



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 King. 

thither came the duke of Norffolke vpon a clay, 

& 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, 
all they said Richard shold Keepe his crowne. 



232 



236 



240 



244 



248 



theres was my liord Zouch, sad att assay 4 

my ~Lord Mattrevis, 5 a noble 'Knight ; 
young Arrundell dight him vpon a day, 

the ~Lord wells, both wise and wight ; 

the Lore? Gray Cotner 6 in his armour bright, 

the Lore? Bowes made him bowne, 
the Lou? Audley was ffeirce to ffight, 

& all said 'Richard shold keepe his crowne. 

there was my Lore? Bartley, sterne on a steede, 
the Lore? fferryes of chartlye, the Lore? fferryes of 
Strobe, 

the Lore? Bartley noble att neede, 

chamberlaine of England that day was hee. 

the Lore? ffittz Hugh, & his cozen nye, 

the Lore? Scroope of vpsall, the Lore? scroope of 
Bolton; 
the Lore? Dacres raised all the North cuntrye ; 

& all said Richard shold keepe his crowne. 



1 assault, siege. — F. 
'-' MS. brenne. I''. 
' .MS. Lincolme. — F. 



1 stedfasl in trial. — F. 

5 Maltrevers. — P. 

,; i.e. Lord Grey of Codnor. — P. 



BOSWORTH FEILDE. 



24.5 



252 



There was many nobles mustered to Sight : 
the Lord Audley & the Lord Lumley, 

the Lore? Gray-stocke ' in his armour bright, 
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, ffarr nor neere, 
256 that shold lett 2 Richard to weare his crowne.' 

there was Sir Iohn Spencer, a noble Knight, 

Sir Rapk hare-bottle 3 in rich array, 
Sir william ward, alwayes that was wight, 
200 Sir Archeobald, the good Rydley ; 

Sir Nicholas Moberly was not away, 

nor yett Sir Robert of Clotten, 
alsoe Sir Oliuer, the hend horsley ; 
264 all said Richard shold keepe his crowne. 



Lumley, 
Greystocke ; 



Sirs J. 
Spencer, 



W. Ward, 



N. Moberly, 

R. Clutton, 
O. Horsley, 



there was Sir Henery Percy, 4 sterne on steede, h. Percy, 

Sir Roger Bowmer in bis companye, 
Sir RichartZ Manners, noble att neede, R- Manners, 

268 Soe was Sir Henery the hend Hatteley ; [page 438] 



Sir Robert Conway in companye, 

Sir Raphe Smyth & Sir Roger Akerston, 
& Sir William, his cozen nye ; 
272 & all sayd Richard shold keepe his crowne. 

There was a noble Knight, Sir Iohn the Gray, 

& Sir Thomas of Mountgomerye ; 
Sir Rodger Sanfort was not away ; 
276 ffrom London came Sir Robert Brakenburye ; 



R. Conway, 



W. Aker- 
ston, 



Jn. Gray, 
R. Sanfort, 



1 Ralph, Lord Greystock, who died in 
1487, without male issue, when the 
barony became united with thatof Dacre. 
— G. E. Adams. 



2 hinder. — Itobson. 

3 Ilarbottle.— P. 

4 S/r Henry Percy. — P. 



246 

II. Bowdrye, 
R. Robbye, 



M. Con- 
stable, 

W. Conyers, 



M. Wardley, 



R. Rosse, 



R. Sturley, 



G. Clyfton, 



T. North, 



H. Stafford, 



R. Ryder, 



J. Hunting- 
ton. 



R. Swayley, 



W. Staple- 
ton. 



BOSWORTII FEILDE. 



280 



S/r Henery Bowdrye was not away, 

nor yett S/r 'Richard the good Chorlton ; 

S/r Raphe Robbye made him yare ; 

all said RichanZ wold keepe his crowne. 



there was S/r Marmaduke Constable, a noble ~K.>iiyht, 

of K.ing Richards councell hee was nye ; 
S/r william Conyous, 1 allwayes that was wight, 
284 S/r Robert Thribald w/th his meanye ; 

soe was S/r Martine of the wardley, 
& S/r Richard the good Hortton, 
& S/r Richard Rosse sware smartly e 
288 that Kmg RicharcZ shold keepe his crowne. 

There was S/r Robert, the sterne Sturley ; 

S/r Iohn of Melton, thither Came hee, 
Sir Caruis Clyfton 2 in rich array, 
292 S/r Henery Perpoint in his degree, 

Sir Thomas North w/th royaltye, 
& alsoe S/r Iohn of Babington, 
S/r Humphrey Stafford sware certainelye 
296 that ~ELmg Richard shold keepe his crowne. 

there was S/r Robert Ryder, a man of might, 

S/r Robert Vtridge in his dignity e ; 
S/r Iohn Huntington was ffeirce to ffight, 
300 soe was S/r Iohn willmarley. 

S/r Robert Swayley with royalltye, 

& alsoe S/r Bryan of stableton, 3 
& S/r william his cozen nye, 
304 & all said Richard shold keepe his crowne. 



1 Conyers. — P. 

2 SirG-ervase Clyfton.— P. 



Sir Bryan Stapleton. — P. 



308 



BOSWORTII FEILDE. 



Tliere was Sir Richard Ratcliffe, a noble "Knight, 
of King Richards councell was kee ; 

S/r William his brother was ffeirce to flight, 
& S/r Thomas, they were brethren 3. 



247 

R. Ratcliffe, 
W. Ratcliffe, 



& S/r Richard the Mallinere, 

& S/r Iohn the good Hortton, 
& S/r Thomas the good Mallynere, 
312 & all said Rich[ard] shold keepe his crowne. 

There was S/r Raphe Dacres out of the North, 

& S/r Christopher the Moresby e l ; 
S/r William Musgreaue was stiffe to stand, 
316 soe was S/r Alexander ffawne in his dignity e. 



R. Mal- 
linere, 

T. Mally- 
nere, 



R. Dacres, 



W. Mns- 
grave, 



S/r George Murkenffeild behind wold not bee, 

nor yett S^'r Thomas the doughtye Broughton ; 
S/r Christopher Owen made him readye, 
320 & all sayd Rich[ard] shold weare his crowne. 

there was S/r william Tempest out of the vale, 

& S/r Richard his cozen nye ; 
S/r Raph Ashton, hee made not ffaile, 
324 S/r Thomas Maclefeild 2 in Companye. 

S/r Richard ward behind wold not bee, 

nor yett S/r Robert of Middleton ; 
S/r Iohn Coleburne sware certainelye 
328 that King Richard shold keepe his crowne. 

there was S/r Iohn Neuill 3 of bloud soe hye, 

S/r Iohn Hurlstean 4 in rich arraye, 
S/r Rodger Heme behind wold not bee, 
332 S/r lames Harrington, sad att assay, 



G-. Murken- 
ffield, 



C. Owen, 



W. Tempest, 



R. Ashton, 



R. Ward, 



J. Cole- 
burne, 



J. Neville, 



R. Heme, 

J. Harring- 
ton, 



1 perhaps Thoivshy.- -P. Perhaps 
not. — Adams. 

* Sir Thomas MacHesfield — P. 



8 Neville.— P. 

4 ? MS. Hurfslean.- 



2 ! 8 



BOSWORTII FEII.DE. 



R. Harring- 
ton. 



All swear 

Richard 
shall reign. 



2 shires 
alone 
fight for 
Henry. 



Lord 
Stanley- 



leaves 

Latham 

Castle 



and marches 
towards 



Newcastle. 



Sir Win. 
Stanley 

marches to 

Nantwich, 



with the 
flower of 
Cheshire ; 



Sir Robert his brother was not away, 
nor yett Sir Thomas of Pilkinton ; 
& all these, great othes sware they 
336 that ILhuj Richard shold keepe his crowne. 

had wee not need to Iesu to pray, 

that made the world, the day & night, 
to keepe vs out of bale and woe ? 
340 2 shires against all England to ffight, 

& maintaine Henert that came ffor his right, 

& in the realme of England was ready bowne ! 
ffreinds, & yee will hearken me right, [page 4;w] 

344 I shall tell you how Henery gott his crowne. 

the hord Stanley sterne and stout, 

that euer hath beene wise and wittye, 
ffrom Latham Castle w/thouten doubt 
348 vppon a munday bowned hee 

with ~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 Kmg. 

then this Lo;yZ bowned him vpon a day 

with noble men in companye ; 
towards Newcastle vnder Line he tooke the way, 
356 & told his men both gold and ffee. 

Sir william Stanley wise and wight, 

ffrom the castle of Holt with holts hye 
to the Nantwich hee rydeth straight, 
360 & tooke his men wages of gold and ffee. 

all the north wales ffor the most pcwtye, 

the mower of Cheshire, with, him hee did bringe ; 
better men were not [in] christentye 
364 that euer came to maintaine their ~Kimj. 



ROSWORTII FEII.DK. 



2 19 



Erly vpon Twesday att Morne 

Sir william Stanley, that Noble Knight, 
remoued ffroni Xantwiche to the towne of stone,- 
368 by tben was Henery come to Stafford straight, - 



thence to 

Stone, 



be Longed sore to see him in sight, 

& straight to Stafford towne is gone, 1 
& kneeled downe anon-right, 
372 & by the hand he hatb him tane : 



from whence 
he goes to 
meet Henry, 



37G 



bee said, " I am ffull glad of thee ; " 

& these were the words he said to him : 

" through the helpe of my Lord thy ffather, 2 & thee, 
I trust in England to continue Kinge." 



who is full 
glad of him. 



then he bent that noble prince by the hand, 

& said, " welcome my souerraigne King Henery 
chalenge thy Herytage & thy Land, 
380 that thine owne is, & thine shall bee. 



He exhorts 
Henry 

to claim his 
crown, 



" be Eger to ffight, & 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." 



be 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 



' gane {i.e. gone). — Dyce. 
2 This should bo "brother": Thomas, 
Lord Stanley, the father of Sir William, 



and thothon (1485) Lord Stanley, having 
die d in 1-158. — Adams. 



a tane.— P. 



yinge, — Dyce. 



250 



uoswoimr feilde. 



with a 

goodly 
company, 



and rides 
through the 
town. 

Then he 
hears 



that Lord 
Stanley 



is about to 

fight 

Richard. 



& to Lichefeild they ridden right, 

with answerable army came royallye : 
to nomber the companye that was with the HsJrright, 
390 itt was a goodlye sight to see. 

guns in Lichefeild they cracken on hye 

to cheere the county e both more & min, 
& glad was all the Chiualrye 
400 that was on heneryes parte, our 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 hord Stanley is his enemy nye, 

that are but a litle way ffrom him ; 
they will flight within these houres 3 
408 with Richard that is Eno-lands Kin°;e." 



He passes 
on to 
Hattersey 



and joins 

Lord 

Stanley. 



On Sunday 
they set 
their battle 
in array, 



waiting 
Ricbnxd'a 

attack. 



" that wold I not," the Knight can say, 

" ffor all the gold in Christen tye ! " 
towards Tamworth he tooke 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 smiday gods service did see. 
toward the ffeild they did them array ; 
420 the vawward the hord Stanley tooke hee, 

Sir "William Stanley the rerward wold bee, 

& his sonne S/r Edward with a winge. 
the did remaine in their array 
424 to waite the coming of Richard King. 



BOSWORTH FEILDE 



251 



thea they Looked to a fforrest syde, 

they hard trampetts & tabours tempered on hye : 
they thought King Richard 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 hord & Kinge. — 



But Henry 
first comes, 



(comely it 
was to see 
the meeting) 



then in their host there did flail affray 

. a litle time before the night ; — 
you neuer saw men soe soone in their array 
436 with ffell weapons ffeirce ffor to flight. — 



vpon a keene courser that was Avigkt, 

other Lords with, 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 * and cominaltye : 
" to quitt 2 you all I vnder stand ; 
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. 



on a swift 
courser, 



our noble 
king. 



He thanked 

the lords 
and com- 
mons, 
and said he 
hoped to re- 
quite them. 



Next 
morning, 



King Henery desired the vaward right 

of the Lord Stanley that was bi 
& hee hath granted him in sight, 



he asked to 

lead the 

of the LorcZ Stanley that was both wise & wittye; van. 



452 & saith " but small is your companyc" 



1 nobles. — F. 



2 quite, i.e. requite. — P. 



2,32 



r.OSWORTII FEILDE. 



Lord 

Stanley gave 
it hin i, 
with 4 good 
knights, 



450 



4 of the Noble Knights then called hee ; 

their names to you then shall I minge ; 
he hade array them with their chiualrye, 

& goe to the vaward with our Kinge: 



Tunstaii, Sir Robert Tunsall, a Noble Knight, 

& come of royall anceytree ; 
Savage, Sir Iohn Savage, wise & wight, 

Perschaii, 460 Sir Hugh Persall ; there was 3 : 



Humphrey 
Stanley. 



464 



Sir Humphrey Stanley the 4* did bee, 
that proued noble in euerye thinge ; 

they did assay them w/th their chiualrye, 
& went to the vaward with our kinge. 



Lord 
Stanley 
has two 
battalions. 



the LorcZ Stanley both sterne and stout, 

2 battells that day had hee 
of hardy e men, withouten doubt 
468 better were not in christentye. 



Sir Wm. 
Stanley 
has the 
rearguard. 



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. 



He sees 
Richard's 
host : 

five miles 
of men, 



then he remoued vnto a mountaine full hye, 

& looked into a dale null dread ; 
5 miles compasse, no ground they see, 
476 ffor armed men & trapped steeds. 



in four 
battalions, 



theyr armor glittered as any gleed 2 ; 

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. 



2 burning coal. 



-Dyco. 



BOSWOKTII FEILDE. 



253 



484 



the duke of Norfolk e ' avanted 2 his banner 3 bright, Norfolk in 
soe did the younge Erie of Shrewsbury^, 



to the sun & wind right speedylye dight, 
soe did Oxfford, that Erie, in companye. 



to tell the array itt were hard ffor me, 

& they Noble power that they did bring. 
And of the ordinance 4 heere shall yee, 
488 Unit had that day Richard our Kinge. 



[page 441] Their 

artillery 
was, 



they had 7 scores Sarpendines 5 without dout, 

that were locked & Chained vppon a row, 
as many bombards" that were stout; 
492 like blasts of thunder they did blow. 



llo ser- 
pentines, 

140 
bombards, 



10000 Morespikes 7 with-all, 

& harquebusyers, throwlye can the thringe 8 
to make many a noble man to ffall 
496 that was on Henerys part, our kinge. 



10.000 

morris-pikes 
and harqne- 
busiers. 



500 



9 YLlng Richard looked on the mountaines hye, 



Richard sees 
LoitI 

& sayd, "I see the banner of the liord Stanley." Stanley's 



he said, " ffeitch hither the LorcZ Strange to mee, 
ffor doubtlesse hee shall dye this day ; 



banner, 



" I make mine avow 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 

St range 
shall die. 



1 Norfolk was on the side of Richard. 
Shrewsbury, a minor, probably with his 
undo .Sir Gilbert Talbot, was on the side 
of Henry. Oxford was a chief com- 
mander of Henry's side. Adams. 

2 availed, or perhaps avanced. — P. 
advanced, raised. — Dyce. 

3 MS. bamcr.— F. 

1 Fr. Artilleric, f., Artillerio, Ordnance. 
Cotgrave. — F. 

5 a kind of cannon. Ealliwell, Fr. 



Serpentine, the Artillorie called a Ser- 
pentine or Basiliskoe. Cotgrave. — F. 

6 See Florio, ed. 1611, pp. 100, 112, 
127. Halliwell. Fr. Bombarde. A Bum- 
bard, or nmrthering peece. Cotgrave. 

F. 

'■ a Large pike. Halliwell. — F. 

8 A.-S. \>ringan =to rush. — F. 

Vide Pag. 478. St. 236, & sequent' 
[The 6* Part of Ladye Bessiye, below.] 



254 



BOSWORTII FEILDE. 



Strange is 
brought out ; 



he calls 



508 



then they brought the hord Strange into his sight ; 

he said, " ffor thy death make thee readye." 
then answered that noble Knight, 

& said, " I crye god & the world mercy e ! 



Christ to 
witness 
that he never 
was a 
traitor. 



" & 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." 



He sends a 
message 
to his 
gentlemen 



and yeomen, 



a gentleman then called bee, — 

men said Latham was his name, — 
" & euer thon come into my country e, 
516 greete well my gentlemen eche one; 

" my yeomen Large of blood and bone, 

sometimes we had mirth att our meetinge ; 
they had a Master, & now they haue none, 
520 ffor heere I must be martyred w/th the Kinge." 



a ring to his 
Lady, 



there he tooke a ring of his ffingar right, 

& to that squier raught itt hee, 
& said, "beare this to my Lady bright, 
524 for shee may thinke itt longe or shee may l see ; 



and hopes 
that 



they all may 
meet in 
heaven. 



" yett att doomes day meete shall wee, — 

I trust in Iesu that all this world shall winn — 
In the celestyall heauen vpon bye 
528 in presence of a Noble YLing. 



If Henry 
loses, 



his son is to 
lie taken 
abroad ; 



" & the ffeild be lost vpon our partye, — 

as I trust in god itt shall not bee, — 
take my eldest sonne that is my heyre, 
532 & fflee into some ffarr countrye. 



me. — F. 



BOSWORTH FEILDE. 



255 



53G 



" yett the child a man may bee, — 
hee is comen of a Lo/t?s kinn, — 

another day to reuenge mee 

of Richard of England, if he be K.ing." 



and when 
he's a man, 



he is to 
revenge him 
on Richard. 



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 haue the flather, the vnckle, all 3, 



Richard 
hears 



that the vans 
are lighting, 



544 



" looke what death you will haue them to dye ; 

att jour will you may them deeme." 
through these ffbrtunate words eskaped hee 

out of the danger of Richard the Kinsre. 



waits to 

take 

the Stanleys; 

and Strange 

escapes 

death. 



then the partyes countred J together egerlye. 

when the vawards began to flight, 
K.mg Henery flbught soe manflullye, 
548 soe did Oxford, that Erie soe wight ; 



Henry lights 
manfully, 



S/r Iohn Sauage, that hardy K.night, 

deathes dints he delt that day 
w/th many a white hood in fight, 
552 that sad men were att assay. 



and so do 
Savage, 



S/r Gilbert Talbott was not away, 

but stoutly stirred him in that flight ; 
w/th noble men att assay 
556 he caused his enemyes lowe to light. 



Talbot, 



S/r Hugh Persall, w/th shcild & speare 

ffull doughtylye that day did hee ; 
he bare him doughtye in this w;ur, 
560 as a man of great degree. 



and rearsall. 



' i.e. cncouuti'ml. — 1 J . 



256 



BOSWOKTH FEILDE. 



Richard has 
40,00:3 men. 



Kmg Hichm-d did in liis army stand, 
he 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. 



Arrows fly, 
guns shoot: 



Richard's 
men begin to 
fail. 



Henry's 
archers 

take to their 
swordB, 



Sir William Stanley wise & worthie [rage 442] 

remembred the brea[k]ffast * he hett to him ; 
downe att a backe then cometh hee, 
568 & shortlye sett vpon the Kinge. 

then they conntred together sad & sore ; 
archers they lett sharpe arrowes fflce, 
they shott guns 2 both ffell & ffarr, 
572 bowes of vewe 3 bended did bee, 

springalls 4 spedd them speedylye, 

harquebusiers pelletts throughly did thringe ; 
soe many a banner began to swee 5 
576 that was on Richards partye, their King. 

then our archers lett their shooting bee, 

with ioyned weapons were growden 6 ifull right, 
brands rang on basenetts hye, 



580 



battell-axes ffast on hehnes did light. 



and his men 

fight 

mightily. 



A knight 
advises 
Richard to 
flee. 



there dyed many a doughtye Knight, 
there vnder ffoot can the thringe ; 
thus they nought With maine & might 
584 that was on Heneryes part, our King. 

then to King Richard there came a Knight, 7 

& said, " I hold itt time ffor to fflec ; 
ffor yonder Stanleys dints they be soe wight, 
588 against them no man may dree. 



1 See lino 179, page 242.— F. 5 swee, qu. perhaps ilec.— P. sway 

2 31 S. gums.— F. 3 yewe.— P. (& fall).— F. 

* Springal, an ancient military engine 6 ? grownden. — F. 

for casting stones and arrows. Halliwell. 7 Vide Pag. 479, St. 255 [of MS., last 

— p. part of Ladyc Bessiye\, et sequentes. — P. 



BOSWORTII FEILDE. 






592 



" heere is thy horsse att thy hand readye ; 

another clay thou may thy worahipp win, 
& ffor to raigne with, royaltye, 

to weare the crowne, and be our K.mg." 



he said, " giue me my battell axe in my hand 

sett the crowne of England on my head 
ffor by him that shope both sea and Land, 



But Richard 
calls for his 

sett the crowne of England on my head soe hyc ! battle-axe 

anil crown : 

he will die a 
King, 



596 ~King of England this day I will dye ! 



600 



" one ffoote will I neuer fflee 

whilest the breath is my brest within ! " 
as he said, soe did itt bee ; 

if hee lost his liffe, if he were King. 



and never 
flee. 



about his standard can the light, 

the crowne of gold the hewed him ffroe, 
with dilffull dints his death the dight, 
604 the Duke of Norffolke that day the slowc. 



Richard 
is slain : 



Norfolk too, 



the LorcZ fferrers & many other moe, Lord 

u Ferrers, 

boldlyo on bere they can them bringe ; 
many a noble Knight in his hart was thro we, 
608 that lost his liffe with Rickai'd the 'King. 

there was slaine Sir Richard Ratcliffe, a noble sir Richard 

. Ratcliffe, 

JLnight, 
of JLmg Richards councell was ffull nyc ; 
Sir william Conyas, 1 allwayes that was wight, 
612 & Si'r Robert of Brakenburye. 

a Knight there dyed thai was fful] doughtyc, 

that was Sir Richard the good Chorlton ; 
that day there dyed hoc 
6J6 With Richard of England Hint ware the crowne. 



Sir William 
Conyers, 



and Sir 
Richard 

Chorlton. 



VOL. III. 



1 Conyers. — P. 



258 



BOSWORTII FEILDE. 



Sir William 
Brandon, 
Henry's 
standard- 
bearer, 



was killed, 



amongst all other Knights, remember 
which, were hardy, & therto wight : 
Sir william Brandon was one of those, 
620 King Heueryes Standard he kept on height, 

& vanted itt with manhood & might 

vntill with dints hee was dr[i]uen downe, 
& dyed like an ancyent Knight, 
624 with Henery of England that ware the crowne. 



and also 
Sir P. 

Triball, 

Richard's 
standard- 
bearer. 



S/r Perciuall Thriball, the other hight, 

& noble Knight, & in his hart was true ; 
King Richards standard hee kept vpright 
628 vntill 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 euer was soe true to their King. 



Henry is 

proclaimed 

King, 



and Lord 
Stanley 



then they moued to a mountaine on height, 

with a lowde voice they cryed king Hene.jv ; 
the crowne of gold that was bright, 
636 to the JjovcI Stanley deliuered itt bee. 



hands the 
crown of 
England to 
him. 



640 



anon to King Henert deliuered itt hee, 
the crowne that was soe deliuered to him, 

& said, " methinke ye are best worthye 
to weare the crowne and be our King." 



They ride to 
Leicester, 



Then they rode to Leister that night [page \v.\ 

with our noble prince King Henerye ; 
they brought King Richard thither with might 
644 as naked as he borne might bee, 



BOSWORTH FEILUE. 



259 



648 



& iu Newarke ' Laid was liee, 

tJ/at many a one might looke on him. 

thus {fortunes raignes most maruelouslyo 
both w/th Emperour & with king. 



and lay 
Richard's 
body in 
Newark. 



now this doubtfull day is brought to an end, 

Iesu now on their soules haue mercye ! 
& hee [that] dyed this world to amend, 
652 saue Stanleys blood, where-soeuer they bee, 

to remaine as LonZs with royaltye 

when truth & conscyence shall spread & spring, 
& that they bee of councell nye 
656 to lames 2 of England that is our King ! 

ffinis. 



Jesn have 
mercy on 
their souls, 



and save 
Stanley's 
blood 
as Lords 
wherever 
truth shall 
spread ! 



1 A place in Leicester so called. — P. 

2 This Poem was certainly written 
before the time of King James, but some 



transcriber applied the Prayer to the 
reigning Prince. — P. 



S 2 



260 



This song is to be found among " 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. Ofeorge Mason and Mr. John Earsden. Printed 
by Thomas Snodham, 1618." They were reprinted by John 
Stafford Smith in Musica Antiqua ; 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 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. {Tlte 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 wero they, Clora, when you fell in love 

With the old footman for singing Queen Dido ? 

In Charles II. 's reign, Sir Robert Howard (speaking of bim- 
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 Turn 1 , 
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 flight. 
as they on hunting [rode, 2 ] a shower 
droue them in a loiiing hower, 

downe to a darkesome Caue, 
wheras ^Eneas wi'th his charmes 
locket Queene didon in his amies, 

& had what hee wold craue. 



Dido loved 
iEneas, 



and in a cavo 



he locked her 
in his arniK, 



Dido Hymens rites fforgett, 3 
12 her lone was winged with Last; 

her honor shee regarded not, 

but in her brcst him placet, 
but when their loues were new begun, 
IC Ioue sent downe his winged sonne 
to fiViuhl Aeneas sleep 6, 

who bade him by the breake of day 
firom Quet tie <li<lo steale away, 
20 which made her wayie and weepc. 



But Jove 



ordered him 
Rway, 



1 BIS. wondering. — F. who wand? — P. 

- went.- J', code, in the other copy. — W.C. 



forgot.— P. 



262 



ACENEAS 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 what of this ? 
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 jour loues, but lett them weepe; 
itts ffolly to be true ; 
28 And lett this story serue yowr turne, 
& lett 20 didoes burne, 
soe you gett dalye 2 new. 

ffinis. 



1 then in the other copy. — W. C. 



daily.— P. 



[_" As it beffell on a Day ," printed «'»Lo, & Hum. Songs, p. 82, follows 

here in the MS. p>. 444.] 



20'3 



€ln £>qtunV 

This is a much abridged and somewhat mutilated version of the 
charming and most popular old romance, The Squyr of Loive 
Degre, 2 reprinted by Kitson 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 Englisli 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 daugh- 
ter — 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 crowne, 



An English 
Squire 
offended his 

against the crowne & against the ffee : King > 
4 in England tarry no longer durst hee, 

ffor hee was vexed beyond the ffome 3 and hacl t0 

into the Kmga Land of Hungary©. Hungary. 

he was no sooner beyond the ffome, 

8 but into a service he was done ; There he 

took service 

1 A poor imperfect Old Ballad. Of Degree about as much as that of Sir 

very moderate excellence: yet curious. Lambwell in pag. 60 [of MS., vol. i. 

This is a mutilated i 1 1 correct copy of the p. 1 12 of print] does from that of Sir 

ancient Romance intitled The Squire of Launfal, & probably for the same Rea- 

l.mr l)<<jrcr. (So 1 one. th6t, bul upon son — vid. SU|ir;i, p. 60. — P. 

comparing them 1 find them very diffe- '-' Or Vndo yowr doore : 1132 lines. — F. 

rent.) Tin's Beems to differ from the 3 Sea, 411.— P. 

printed Koinan f the Sijuier of Low 



264 



THE SQUIEB. 



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 



suck a service he cold him gett, 

he serried the Kings daughter in her seate ; 

such a service he was put in, 
12 he serued the K.ings daughter wz'th hread & 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 hords 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 T 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 ; 

shoe 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 ? " 



1 Compare Thomas of Pott e, p. 136 above. — F. 
- See Russell's Boke of Nurture, I. 1001.— F. 



bond, i. o. geutle. — P. 



THE SQUIER. 



265 



" Ladye," lie sayes, " as I doe see, [page 445] 

44 of my mourninge I dare not tell yee, 

ffor you wold coraplaine vnto our King, 

& hinder me of my Liuinge." 

" Squier," shee sais, " as I doe thriue, 
48 neuer while I am woman aliue ! " 

" Squier," shee sais, " if you will my loue haue, 

another ffashion you must itt craue, 

ffor you must to the ffeild, & flight, 
52 & dresse you like & other wise Knight l ; 

& euer the ffbrmost I hold you ffirst, 

& euer my ffather hold you next, 

& hee will take such flavor to yee, 
56 soone marry ed together wee shalbee." 

"Lady," he saies, " that is soone said : 

how shold a man to the ffeild, was neuer arraid ? 

Lady," he said, " itt were great shame 
60 a naked man shold ryde ffrom home." 

" thou shalt haue gold, thou shalt haue flee, 

strenght of men & royaltye." 

shee went to a Chest of Iuorye, 
64 & ffeitcht out a lOO'l and 3 : 

" Squier," shee saies, " put this in good Lore ; 

when this is done, come ffeitch thee more." 

shee had no sooner these words all said, 
68 but men about her chamber her ffather had Laid : 

" open yo?<r doore, my Lady alone, 

heere 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 vnsteake 2 

vntill I heare my ffather speake." 

then they tooke the Squier alone, 
76 & put him into a chamber of ffrom 3 ; 



mourning 
after, 



anil 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, 



1 Another-guesse Knight ; qu. — P. 

2 i.e. unfasten, open. — P. 



3 her from, qu. — P. 

ffrano, 1. 153.— P. 



? frame: cp, 



266 



THE SQUIER. 



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 be gone, 

& ffeitched dowtie a hanged man. 

the Leaned him to her chamber dore, 
80 the dead might ffall 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 more. 

" alacke," shee saith, " & woe is aye ! 

something to Long that I haue Lay. 

alacke," shee sais, " that eue?- 1 was borne ! 
92 Sqnier, now thy liffe dayes are fforlome ! 

I will take thy ffingars & thy max, 1 

I will throwe them well in virgins 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 with spicerye, 

& bury thee vnder a marble stone, 
104 & euery day say my praiers thee vpon, 

& euery day, whiles I am woman aliuc, 

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. 



1 A..S.feax, hair of the head. 
3 Wrapper. — P. 



Only half the n in the MS.— F, 



THE SQUIER. 



267 



Squier," sliee sais, "He neuer looke att other thing, 
112 nor neuer weare mantle nor ringe." 

her ffather stood vnder an easing ' bore, 

& heard his daughter mourning euer more ; 

" daughter," he sais, " ffor whose sake 
lie is that sorrow that still thou makes ? " 

"ffather," shee sais, " as I doe see, 

itt is ffor no man in Christen tye. 

ffather," shee sayes, "as I doe thriue, [page44G] 

120 itt is ffor noe man this day aliue ; 

ffor yesterday I lost my kniffe ; 

much rather had I haue lost my liffc ! " 

" my daughter," he sayes, " if itt be but a blade, 
124 I can gett another as good made." 

"ffather," shee sais, "there is neuer a smith but one 

that [can] smith you 2 such a one." 

"daughter," hee sais, "to-morrow I will a hunting 
ffare, 
128 & thou shalt ryde vppon thy chaire, 

& thou shalt stand in such a place 

& see 30 harts come all in a chase." 

"ffather," shee sayes, "godamercy, 
132 but all this will not comfort mee." 

" daughter," he sais, " thou shalt sitt att thy meate, 

& see the flashes in the ffloud leape." 

" ffather," shee sais, " godamercy, 
136 but all this will not comfort mee." 

" thy sheetes they shall be of they Lawne, 

.thy blanketts of the ffine ffustyan." 

" ffathe[r,] " shee sais, &c.\ 
140 " & to thy bed I will thee bring, 

many torchcrs ffaire burninge." 

" fiather," slice sais, &c. 



Her father 



asks whom 

she's sorrow- 
ing for. 



"No man 
alive. 

I've lost my 
knife." 



" I'll get 
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. Eves of n house. — P. 
? Building with eaves. Bor, liore, a 

place used for shelter, es] ially by 

smaller animals. Sir Tristrem, Easin- 



f/ang, a course of sheaves projecting a 
little at the easin, to keep the rain from 
getting in. Jamieson. — F. 
1 thai can smithe you, &c. — P. 



268 



THE SQUIER. 



minstrels 
shall play to 
you, and 

pepper and 
cloves 
burn for 
you. 



Why are 

you so 
pale? 



I have your 
lover I " 



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. 



144 



148 



152 



156 



160 



164 



168 



" If thou cannott sleepe, nor rest take, 

thou shalt haue Minstrells with thee to wake. 1 " 

" gather," shee sais, &c. 

" peper & Cloues shall be hurninge, 

that thou maist ffeele the sweet smellinge." 

" ffather," shee sais, &c. 

" daughter, thou had wont to haue beene both white 

& red ; 
now thou art as pale as beaten leade. 
I haue him in my keeping 
that is both thy loue & likinge." 
he went to a Chamber of ffrane, 
& ffeitcht fforth the Squier, a whales bone. 2 
when shee looked the Squier vpon, 
in a dead swoonc shee ffell anon, 
throug 3 kissing of that worthye wight, 
vprisse that Lady bright. 

" ffather," shee sayes, " how might you for sinn 
haue kept vs 2 louers in twin ? " 
"daughter," he said, " I did ffor no other thinge 
but thought to haue marryed thee to a King." 
to her Marriage came Kings out of Spaine, 
& Kings out of Almaigne, 
& Kings out of Normandye, 
att this Ladyes wedding ffor to bee. 
a long month and dayes 3, 
soe long lasted this Mangerye. 4 
30 winters and some deale moe, 



soe longe liued these Louers too. 



Amis. 



1 A.-S. wcBCcan, to watch. — F. 

2 as white as ivory. — F. 



3 ffor is marked out for throug. — F. 

4 Mangeryo, i. e. eating, feasting. — P. 



[" Blame not a Woman" printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 84, follows 

hero in the MS. p. 446.] 



269 



(P^Oblf ffrStUS: l [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, 
" 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." 

V. 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, " the queen told him 
' Sir Walter, I hear you have erected a Puritan foundation.' 
' No, madam,' saith he, ' 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, God 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. 

V. 47. Richard Greenham was born circ. 1531, educated at 
and elected fellow of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, " became pastor 
to the congregation at Drayton, near Cambridge," "took such 
uncommon pains," says Brook in his Lives of the Puritans, "and 

1 Printed in a Collection of son^s N. B. Thf Various Readings below are 
culled the Rump, p. 237, a.d. 1GG2. from the printed Copy. — P. 



270 O NOBLE FESTUS. 

was so remarkably ardent in bis 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 depart- 
ment 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 " do not 
fear them, but abhor them." Amongst his treatises (see his 
Works, fol. 1612) are " A sweet comfort for afflicted conscience," 
ei A short direction for the comfort of afflicted consciences," 
" Rules 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 laiv 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 
da in a with so peculiar an emphasis that it left a doleful echo in 
their ears a long time after." " As for his books," says Fuller in 



O 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 Christendome." . . . 

Of all the "Worthies in this learned role, 
Our English Perkins may, without eontrole, 
Challenge a crowne of Bayes to deck his head, 
And second unto none be numbered, 
For'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 Queen Eliza, a Princesse without peer. 

T. Fuller's Abel Redivivus (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 chaine or the description of Theologie, 
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 vol. i. of the 1612 edition of his works. 
This table, a side-note on it informs us, " may be in stead of an 
Ocular Catechism e to them which cannot read ; for by the 
pointing of the finger they may sensihly perceive the chiefe 
points of religion and the order of them." The reader is in- 
structed 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 Eeprobation," " A calling not effectual," " No 
calling," " Ignorance and vauitie of mind," " the hardening of the 
heart," "a reprobate sense," " Gm.-dines in sinne," "Fulnes of 
sinne." A bold analysis of perdition this — an audacious piece of 



272 



O 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 

because I 
hope to put 
down the 
Pope? 



I wastraincd 
in 

Emmanuel's 
house. 



I was bound 
like a 

madman, 
and lashed. 



AM : I mad, noble ffestus, 

when zeale & godlye knowledge 
put me in hope to deale with the Pope 
4 as well as the best in the Colledge ? 

Boldlye I preacht " war 1 & cross war a surplus, 

miters, copes, & rochetts ! 
come heare me pray 9 times a day, 
8 & mil yozo* head with crochetts." 

In the house of pure Emanuell 2 

I had my educatyon, 
till my ffreinds did surmise I dazled my eyes 
12 with the light of reuelation. 

Boldlye I preacht &c. 

The bound me like [a] 3 bedlam, 

& lash[t] 4 my 4 poore quarters, 
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 Roome nor Spaine 
20 can withstand my strong inuasyon. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 



1 hate a Cross, hate, &c, or ware a 
Cross &c. i.o. beware, &c. — P. 

2 Emanuel College, Cambridge, was 



originally a seminary of Puritans. — 
W. C. 
s a.— P. 4 t.— P. 5 thus I indurc.— P. 



O NOBLE FESTUS. 



273 



24 



I assailed the seauen-hild Cittye 

where I mett the great redd dragon ; 

I kept him alooffe with the armor l prooffe 
thoughe now I haue neuer a ragg on. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 



At Tiomn I 
fought the 
red dragon, 



28 



with a ffiery sword and Targett, 
twice ffought I with this monster ; 

but the sonnes of pryde my zeale doe derydc, 
& all my deeds misconster. 
Boldly I preacht &c. 



with a sword 
and target. 



I vnhorsct the hore of Babell 

with the Launce of Inspiration ; 
I made her stinke, & spill the 2 drinke 
32 in the Cupp of abbominatyon. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 



I unbnrsed 
the whore of 
Babylon. 



3 ffrom the beast with 10 homes, Lord blesse vs, 

I haue plucket of 3 allreadye ; 
if theyle Lett me alone, lie leaue him none ; 

but they say I am to headye. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 



I pulled out 
three of the 
beast's ten 
horns. 



•JO 



I saw 2 in the visyon, 

with a fflying booke betweene them. 
I haue beenc in dispaire 5 times in a ycere, 

& beene cured by reading Greenham. 4 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 



I've l>een 
rescued 
from despair 
by 

Greenham. 



i [insert] of.— P. 

2 her. I'. 

3 This Stauza is not in tin- printed 

Copy.-l'. 

* The Works of Richard Greenl, 
Minister and Preacker of the Word of 

VOL. ni 



God. Lond. 1599, 4to. Greenham was 
a puritan ilivino of considenible talents 
and popularity. His works consist of 
sermons, treatises, and a commentary on 
Psalm cxix. Lowndes. — F. 



274 

Perkins has 



made me fear 
my dam- 
nation. 



44 



O NOBLE FESTUS. 

I haue read in l Perkins table 2 

the blacke Line of damnatyon ; 
these crooked vaines long stucke 3 in my braincs, 

that I ffeared my reprobacibn. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 



48 



In the holy tounge of Cannan 
I placed my Cheefest tresure, 

till I hurt my ffoot with an hebrew rootc 
that I bled beyond all measure. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 



I've told the 

Archbishop 

that 

he favoured 
superstition. 



I was 4 before the Archbisboppe 

& all the hye Comissyon ; 
I gaue him no grace, but told him to his fface 

that he ffauoured superstition. 

Boldlye I preacht &c. ffillis. 



1 observed in. — P. 

2 Perkins, William, The Works. 
Loncl., 1608-10, fol., 3 vols. A Re- 
formed Catholike, or a Declaration of De- 
clarations. Camb., 1567. A Reforma- 
tion 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, learning, extensive km >w- 
ledge of the Scriptures, and strong Cal- 
vinistic argumentation. Lowndes. — F. 

3 so stuck. — P. 

4 appear'd. — P. 



[•" Watt, ivhere art tho?" printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 121, 
follows here in the MS. p. 447-8.] 



275 



Carle off Carlfle 1 : 

Tins poem was printed from the Folio by Sir F. Madden in 
the Appendix to his Syr Gaivayne 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 V " printed by him (Sir F. Madden) in 
the Appendix to his Syr Gaivayne, pp. 187-206. Though Mrs. 
Ormsby Gore has kindly lent me this Porkington MS., I have 
not collated the Folio with it, as its Syre Gaivene 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 
tin- 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 in the literature of the Continent, 
and we find it in the beautiful fabliau of Le Chevalier a I'Epee, 
printed in Meon's Recueil, tome i. p. 127, 8vo, 1823, and pre- 
viously analysed by Le Grand." 

' A curiou if the -M.n i iage of Sir Gawi one of King Arthur's Knights.— P, 

T 2 



276 



CARLE OFF CARLILE. 



Like the other Gawaine stories iu 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 Turke and 
Goivin and The Marriage of Sir Gawaine, the counter charm 
which undoes the fiendly work is Gawaine's courtesy. Though 
he was not held worthy of the highest honours in Arthur-stor} 7 , 
though he kept not the state of the virgin three who alone 
achieved the Quest of the Holy Graal 1 — Galahad, 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 most 2 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 Gawaine 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, Gawaine strikes off the head; the bale 
that Necromancy had wrought is turned to bliss, the loathsome 
giant becomes again a man, and Gawaine weds the lady gay. 
What is not possible to those sweet souls who sun their world, at 



1 " Gauwains, Gauwain! mult a lone 
tans que tu fus chiualers, ct onques 
puis ne seruis ton crcatour, so pen nun: 
tu ies mais si vieus arbres qu'il n'aen toi 
no fuello no fruit, oar tu penses quo nos- 
tra sires en eust la moule ot l'escorche, 
puis quo li anemis on a eu la flour et le 
fruit." Naseiens to Gawain, Queste, 
p. 144. Again: " et quant il vous vit, si 



s'en ala, car uous auies le lieu ordi do 
uotre peehie, et quant il s'on ala il vous 
dist, ' chiualer plain do poure foi et de 
poure creancho, chos iij. choses vous 
faillent: carite, abstinenche, et uerites, 
el pour die n'en poos auenir as auen- 
turos del saint graal.'" Queste, p. 133, 
od. F. J. F. for Roxb. Club, 1864.— F. 
2 Others consistently run him down. 



CABLE OFF CAItLILE. 277 

whose presence words of wrath and thoughts of evil cease, the 
remembrance even of whose smile wins us from bitterness and 
gloom ? — F. ^ 



LlSTEN : to me a litle stond, 

yee shall heare of one that was sober & sound : 

lue was meeke as maid in bower, 
4 stifle & strong in euery stoure ; 

certes without en Sable 

he was one of the round table; 

the Knights name was Sir Gawaine, 
8 that much worshipp wan in Brittaine. 

the He of Brittaine called is 

both England & Scottland I-wis ; 

wales is an angle to that He, 
12 where King Arthur soiorned a while l ; 

with, him 24 Knights told, 

besids Barrons & dukes bold. 

the King to his Bishopp gan say, 
16 " wee will have a Masse to-day, [page 449] 

Bishopp Bodwim 2 shall itt done : 

after, to the flairest 3 wee will gone, 

ffor now itts grass time of the yecrc, 
20 Barrons bold shall breake the deere. 

ffaine theroff was Sir Marrockc, 4 

soe was S/r Kay, the Knight stout ; 



I'll tell you 
about 



Sir Gawaine. 



Arthur 

slaved a 
while in 
Wales, 



and one day 
said he'd 
hear Mass, 



and then go 
hunting. 



Mwrrock 

was glad. 
Kay too, 



1 At Cardyfe soiorned !"• kyngo a 
whylle. Porkington MS.— F. 

-' that Bishop S/r Bodwine. Twrke \ 
Gowin, 1. 154, vol. i. p. 96. ^ On this 
Bodwin or Bawdewyn in The Grene 
Knytf, Sir V. 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 thai of Bishop Brice 
or Dubricius. There was an Archbishop 
of Canterbury named Baldwin, who bold 
the See from 1 184 to 1191, from whom 
the name may have been taken. Syr 



Gawaync, p. 312. — F. 

:l forrest. — Pork. 

1 Mewreke. — Pork. Marrake In The 
Awntyra of Artkure, 1. 641. He" appears 
to las the same as ' Sir Marrok, the good 
knyghte, thai was bitrayed with his wyf, 
for she made him seuen yerea werwolf,' 
in Malory's Morte <f Arthur, 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. :>:>.">. Marrocke is also 
the name of the gianl in Eglamore, vol. ii. 
p, 349, 1. 239, and of lie false steward in 
Sir Triamore, vol. ii. p. S2, 1. 51. — K. 



278 



CARLE OFF CARLILE. 



and 

Lancelot, 

Percival, 

Ewaine, 

Lott, the 
Green 

Knight, 

Gawaine, 



Mordred, 



Lybius 

Disconyus, 



and Iro 
side. 



flaine was Sir Lancelott Dulake, 
24 soe was Sir Perciuall, 1 I vndertake ; 

ffaine was Sir Ewaine 2 

& Sir Lott of Lotliaine, 3 

soe was the Knight of armes greene, 4 
28 & alsoe Sir Gawaine the sheene. 

Sir Gawaine was steward in Arthurs hall, 

hee was the curteous Knight amongst them all/ 

"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 ab- 
stract of the French romance in The 
Thornton Romances. — F. 

2 See Caxton's Maleore, vol. i. p. 231. 
— F. 

3 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 Bheged, according to 
the Welsh authorities. His exploits 
were celebrated in French verse by 
Chrestien de Troyes, and thence trans- 
lated into the German, Icelandic, Welsh, 
and English languages ; for which con- 
sult Benecke's edition of Iwein der Ritcr 
mit dim Leu-en, 8vo, Berlin, 1827; Von 
der Hagen's Grundriss znr Geschichte 
dir Drvixchai T'ocsie, 8vo, Berlin, 1812, 
p. 118; Ritson's Metrical Romances, 
vol. i., and Notes, vol. iii., 8vo, If 02; 
and Lady C. Guest's Mahinogion, part i., 
8vo, 1838. lie must not be confounded 
(as Ritson has done him) with Ywain 



TAvoxdtre, 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. ccviii b , 
and in the Roman d' lure ct cVEithh . 
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. 

5 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 proba- 
bility 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. 

'•' Syre Ironsyde (hat 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 bo read in vol. i. 
p. 211. Madden's Syr Gawayne, x\. 347. 
— F. 



CABLE OFF CAKLILE. 



279 



& Ironside, as I weeue, 
gate l the Knight of armour greene — 
certes as I vnderstand — 
40 of a ffaire Lady of Haunch Land. 2 
hee cold more of honor in warr 
then all the Knights that w/th Arthur weave : 
buvning dragons he slew in Land, 
44 & wilde beasts, as I vnderstand ; 
wilde beares he slew that stond ; 
a hardy er Knight was neuer Sound ; 
he was called in his dayes 
48 one of Kmg 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 Molatt 4 
he bare in his crest Allgate. 5 
where- soeuer he went, East nor west, 
60 he neuer fforsooke man nor beast. 
beagles, keenely away the ran, 
the King ffollowed afffcer w/th many a man. 
they 6 gray hounds out of the Leashe, 
f.4 they drew downe the deere of grasse. 7 
Sine 8 tents in the ffcild 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. c. begat. — P. 

2 The Seigneur de la Blaunche londe 
i- noticed as one of Arthur's knights, in 
the Roman de Perceval, f. lxxi. Cf. f. 
clxxi ''. See in regard to this ti rritory a 
net.- of M. Michel on Tristan, vol. ii. 
]>. i;:i. Madden's Syr Gawayne, p. 848. 

I'. 



3 Dapple colour'd. — P. Tho steed's 
name was Fahele-honde. Madden's Syr 
Gawayne, p. 189, 1. 79. — F. 

4 i. e. a mullet. — P. 

1 The second / is over the g in the MS. 
— F. 



• the.- P. 
R or ffiue. — F. 



greace. 



P. fat.— F. 



280 



CARLE OFF CARLILE. 



and by noon 
100 harts 
were killed. 

But 

Gawaine, 
Kay, and 
Bishop 
Bod win, 



lose their 
way in 



following a 
red deer. 



G awaine 
proposes to 



dismount, 
and stay all 
night in the 
forest. 



Kay says 
he'll lodge 
in some- 
body's 
house. 
No one 
dare stop 
him. 

The Bishop 
says, 



The Carle of 
Carlisle will : 



of comely knights of kind, 
68 vppon the bent there can they lead, 1 

& by noone of the same day 

a 100*? harts on the ground the 2 Lay. 

then Sir Gawaine & Sir Kay, 
72 & Bishopp Bodwin, as'I heard say, 

after a redd deere 3 the rode 

into a fforrest wyde & brode. 

a thicke mist ffell them among, 
70 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 : 

ffull sore the were adread 

ere the 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, 

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 ; 
9G here dwelleth a Carle in a Castele, 

the Carle of Carlile is his name, 

I know itt well by St. lame ; 



[page 450] 



1 lend. — Madden. 

2 delend.— P. 

3 rayne-dere, and reyne-dciv, 1. 79. — 
Pork. 

* Only half the u in the MS.— F. 



caised. — Madden. 

5 wherforre, Madden's text : wIktso- 
over ?, his note. — V. 

(i wern hit me. — Pork. 



CARLE OFF CARLILE. 



281 



was there neuer man yett soe bold 
100 that durst lodge within his hold ; 

but, & if hee scape : with his liffe away, 

hee ruleth him well, I you say." 2 

then said Kay, " all in ff'ere, 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 itt 4 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 flare, 

att his bidding I wilbe yare." 

Gawaine said " lett be thy bostlye flare, 5 
1 1 G ffor thou dost euer waken care. 

if thou scape 6 with 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 he 7 drinke." 
124 " t/mt is contrary," said Gawaine, " as I thinke 

but if any ffaire speeche will he gaine, 

wee shall make him Lord w/tliin 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 
scold. 



1 stave Madden. 

2 It sehall be bette, as I harde say, 
And jefe be go wit Lyfe away. — 

Porkington .MS. 

3 i.e. together. Perhaps all on fire. 
—P. 

1 him.- 1'. 

6 Compare rol. i. p. 91, 1. 25 30. 



Kay was the braggart of Arthur's court. 
— F. 

'• Madden reads the MS. stape, and 
corrects it to scape. — F. 

7 him ?. — Madden. 

" aine (in pencil). — P. Pork, lias the 
talk 1. 104-30 somewhat differently.— 



282 



CARLE OFF CARLILE. 



They ride to 
the Earl's 
gate. 

Oawaine 
knocks, 



and tells the 
Porter 



that they 
are tired out 
with hunt- 
ing, 



and ask his 
lord for a 
night's 
lodging. 



Kay 

threatens 
the Porter, 



but he 

answers 

boldly. 



Oawaine 
asks him 
courteously, 

and the 
Porter 
gives his 



then said the Bishopp, " tliai senteth * mee ; 
thither lett vs rjde all three." 
when they came to the carles gate, 

J 32 a hammer they Sound hanging theratt : 
Gawaine hent the hammer in his hand, 
& curteouslye on the gates dange. 
fforth came the Porter with still ffare, 

13G saying, " who is soe bold to.knocke there ? '' 
Gawaine answered him curteouslye 
" man," hee said, " that is I. 2 
wee be 2 ~K.nigh\& of Arthurs inn, 

140 & a Bishopp, no moe to min 3 ; 

wee haue rydden all day in the fforrest still 
till horsse & man beene like to spill ; 
ffor Arthurs sake, that is our Kinge, 

144 wee desire my LortZ of a nights Loclginge, 
& harbarrow 4 till the day att Morne, 
///at wee may scape 5 away without scorne." 
6 Then spake the crabbed 'Knight Sir Kay : 

148 " 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 " theres no man aliue that dares doe soe ! 

of 9 a 100 d such as tbou his death had sworne, 
yett he wold ryde on hunting to morne. 10 " 
then answered Gawain that was curteous aye, 

156 "Porter, our errand I pray thee say." 

"yes," said the Porter, "w/'thouten ffayle 
I shall say jour errand ffull well." 



1 Madden reads loitcth. — F. 

2 " It am I" is the earlier phrase.- — F. 
8 min, ming, i. e. mention, vide v. 162. 

—P. 

* Madden reads harhorrow. — F. 

5 Madden again reads stcrpe, and 
corrects to scape.- — F. 

Pork, puts in the Porter's 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. t*r&, bold. — 
F. 

fl If.— P. 
ln to-morrow. — T. 



CARLE OFF CAKLILE. 



283 



as socme as the Porter the Carle see, 
1 00 hee kneeled clowne vpon his knee : 

"Yonder beene 2 Knights of Arthurs in, 1 [ pa ge45i] 

& a Bishopp, no more to myn ; 

they haue roden all day in the fforrest still, 
1G4 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 
1G8 that they may scape 3 away w/thout scorne." 

"noe thing greeues 4 me," sayd the Carle w/thout 
doubt, 

" but that they 5 'Knights stand soe long w/thout." 

with, 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, 
176 with 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, 

with 2 great eyen brening as ffyer. 

Lord ! hee was a Lodlye syer 8 ! 

ouer his sholders he bare 9 a bread 
1 84 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 
t lit- Carle. 



The Carle 
regrets that 
they have 
been kept so 
long wait- 
ing. 



Gawaine &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. 

'-' linr.se & man. — P. 

1 .Madden again reads etape, and 
corrects to scape. — F. 

1 Half the u left nut in the .Ms. F. 

5 the.— P. 

" the.— P. 

7 #ane. — P. 



8 a lodlye sire, i. c. filthy, p. 387.— P. 

9 bore.— Madden. 

10 The stakes by wAich the hair lines 

are faeten'd to tin- ground that are tied 
to the horses' feet when they graze in 
open fields.— P. Madden reads tedder. 

V. 



284 



CARLE OFF CARLILE. 



Gawaine 
salutes him 
courteously, 



and the 
Carle 
welcomes 
them for 
Arthur's 
sake, though 
Arthur and 



he have long 
been foes. 



They go to 
the tables, 



and see 4 
■whelps, 



a bear, 
a boar, 
a bull, 
and a lion. 



50 Cubitts l he was in height ; 

1S8 Lo?-cZ, 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 

192 as thou sitteth in thy prosperitye ! " 
the carle said, " as christ 4 me saue, 5 
yee shall be welcome ffor Arthurs sake. 

6 yet is itt not my -pari to doe soe, 
196 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 

200 I haue quitt him the same againe." 

" that is a kind of a knaue 9 ," said Kay, " w/tliout 
Leasing, 

soe to reuile a Noble King." 

Gawaine heard, & made answere, 
204 " 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 
208 they ffound Lying by the ffire. 

there was a beare that did rome, 10 

& a bore that did whett his tushes 1 1 ffome, 

alsoe a bull that did rore, 
212 & 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. 

' l i.e. saluted. — P. Mndden reads the 
MS. hat tied, and corrects it to halsed. 
Halche is O. N. heilsa, Dan. hilsa, to 
salute, to cry hail to. Wedgwood. — P. 

3 " CaUile, MS.," says Madden.— P. 

4 Madden reads cheif, and puts " Crist ? " 
in his note. — F. 

5 perhaps take. — P. 



6 y* et in MS.— F. 

7 sent.— P. 

8 vid. p. 367, St. 45 [of MS.].— P. 
See Dr. Eohson's note in Sir John Buthr 
above. Madden says " leave, MS." — F. 

8 A c follows in the MS.— F. 

lu Cp. tho here to ramy. Pork. — F. 

I! tusks.— Madden.— F. 



CAKLE OFF CARLILE. 



285 



fibr that word that they carle ' did speake, 

21G the 4 whelpes vnder they bord 2 did creepe. 

downe came a Lady ffaire & ffree, 

& sett her on the carles knee ; 

one whiles shee harped, another whiles song, 
220 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 wei-e great shame," said the carle ffree, 
224 " that thou sholdest doe me such villanye." 3 

" Sir," said Gawaine, "I sayd nought." 

" no, man," said the carle ; " more thou thought." 

Then start Kay to the fflore, 
228 & said hee wold see how his palfrey ffore. 4 

both corne & hay he ffound Lyand, 

& the carles palfrey by his steed did stand. 

Kay tooke the carles palfrey by the necke, 
232 & soone hee thrust him out att the hecke 5 : 

thus Kay put the carles Able out, 

& on his backe he sett a clout. 

then the carle himselfe hee stood there by, 
236 and sayd, "this buffett, man, thou shalt abuy. G " 

The carle raught Kay such a rapp [page 452] 

that backward he ffell fflatt ; 

had itt not beene fibr a ffeald 7 of sfraw. 
240 Kayes backe had gone in 2. 8 

then said Kay, " & thow were Without thy hold, 

Man ! this buffett shold be deerc sold." 

" what," sayd the carle, " dost thou menace me ? 



A Eair lady 
seats herself 
on the 
Carle"s knee, 



and 

Gawaine 
says her 
bedfellow 
will be a 
happy man. 



The Carle 

reproves 

him. 



Kay goes to 
the stable, 



finds the 
Carle's 
palfrey next 
to his, 

turns it out, 



and gives it 
a clout. 



The Carle 

knocks Kay 
down. 



Kay 
threatens 

him, 



and he bells 
Kay 



» the Carle.— P. 

2 the hnnl. 1'. 

8 Pork, substitutes a Bcene of the 
knights drinking, for this one of the 
lady; bul describes the Carle's wife al 
gupper-time, p. L97 of Madden's Syr 
Gawayne. V. 



P. 



* i. o. fared, prat, inusitat. — P. 
5 i.e. Cratch, verb. Scot. Dr. Craing', 
-P. 

'• abye> — P. Madden reads aby. — F. 
7 i.e. a truss of straw, l>r. Graing r .— 

twa.— P. 



286 



CARLE OFF CARLILE. 



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 
Gfawaine 



244 I swere by all soules sicerlye ' ! 

Man ! I swere ffurtlier thore, 2 

if I heere 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 you haue 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 ? ' ; 

the carle himselfe he stood there by : 
264 " man ! this buffett thou shalt abuy. 5 " 

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 fhtteth a clarke to be curteous & ffree, 
272 by the conning 6 of his clergy." 

w/th that the Bishopp went into the hall, 

& Sir Gawaine to him can call, 



1 Madden reads sikcrlyc. - F. 

2 tlio.— P. 

3 moe. — P. 

4 als I weon, i.e. I also thinke, in- 
tend. iScd vie/, infya 276.— P. As is 



thus, like. — F. 

5 aliay, MS. says Madden. — F. 

8 MS. coming. — F. cunning or con- 
nine.— -P. 



CAKLE OFF CAHLILE. 



287 



saitb, " brother Bishopp where haue you beene ? ' 
276 "to looke my palfrey, as I weene." 

then sayd Sir Gawaine, " itt ffalleth mec 

that my palfreye I must needs see." 

corne & hay he ffound enoughe Lyand, 
2«0 & the carles ffole by his did stand. 

the carles ffole 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, 
290 & said, " to you I will begin ! " 

15 gallons he dranke that tyde, 

& raught to his men on euery side. 

then tliey 5 caile said to them anon, 
300 " Sirrs, to supper gett you gone ! " 

Gawaine answered the carle then, 

" Sir, ait jour bidding we will be ben. 1 ' " 

" 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 sec 
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 
1 5 gallons 
at one 
draught. 



Then tliey 
nil have 
supper. 



' The Carle. P. 
- The Carle. P. 
3 gallon,? Madden. Ordinary bowls. 1'. 



4 the— P. 
'■> the.— P. 
" baine. — P. 



288 



CARLE OFF CA.KLILE. 



After it, the 
Carle tells 
Gawaine to 
take a spear 

and to mark 
him in his 
face. 



Gawaine 
takes the 
spear, 



charges at 
the Carlo 



(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 " a long speare see thou take in thy hand, 1 

att the buttrye dore take thou thy race, 

& marke me well in middest the face. 

" a ! " thought 2 Sir Kay, " that that were I ! 
312 then his buffett he shold deere abuy. 3 " 

" well," quoth, the carle, " when thou wilt, thou may, 4 

when thou wilt thy strength assay." — 

"well Sir," said Kay, " I said nought." 
316 "Noe," said the carle, "but more thou [pagei-v;] 
thought." 

then Gawaine was ffull 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 fface. 

the carle saw Sir Gawaine come in ire, 

& cast his head vnder his speare, 

Gawaine raught the wall such a rapp, 
324 the flyer fnew out, & the speare brake ; 

he stroke a ffbote into the wall of stone, 

a bolder Barron was there neuer none. 

" soft," said the carle, " thow was to radd.° " 
328 " I did but, Sir, as you me bade." 

" if thou had hitt me as thou had nient, 

thou had raught me a ffell dint. 7 " 

they carle tooke Gawaine by the hand, 
332 & both into a Chamber they wend ; 

a ffull ffaire bed there was spred, 

the carles wiffe therin was laid : 



1 hond.— P. 

2 Ah! thought.— P. 

3 MS. aluy. Madden reads a 
F. abuy or abyo. — P. 

4 thou thou (yee) may. — P. 

5 Madden reads the MS. doe.— 
8 furious, 0. Fr. roide. — Skeat. 

rough, fierce, violent. — Cotgrave 
hrced, swift, quick, rush. — F. 



buy.- 



F. 
Boide, 

A.S. 



7 Pork. MS. puts Oawaino's supper after 
this, and brings the Carle's daughter in 
to harp and sing to them. She is prettily 
described, has (he gold-wire hair so much 
admired in early times, and 

Owyrc alle be halle ganwe sche leme 
As hit were a sonwe-beme. 

Madden's Syr Gaivay?ie, p. 199. — F. 



CARLE OFF CARLILE. 



281) 



the carles said, "Gawaiue, of curtesye 
336 gett into tins bedd with this ffaire Ladye. 
kisse thon her 3-° before mine eye ; 
looke thou doe no other villanye." 
the carle opened the sheetes wyde ; 
340 Gawaine gott in by the Laydes syde ; 
Gawaine oner her ' put his arme ; 
with that his fflesh began to warme : 
Gawaine had thought to haue made in ffare, 2 
3U " hold," quoth the carle, " man, stopp there 3 ! 

itt were great shame," quoth they carle, "for mc 
that thou sholdest doe me such villanye ; 
but arise vp, Gawaine, & goe with me, 
348 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, 
352 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, 
356 Sir Gawaine gott in by the Ladyes side. 

GaAvaine put his arme ouer that sweet thing ; 
" sleepe, daughter," sais the carle, " on my blessing." 
they carle turned his backe & went his way, 
360 & lockt the dore with a silucr Kaye. 

mi the other morning 6 when the carles rose, 
vnto his daughters chamber he goes : 
" rise vp, Sir Gawaine, & goe with nice, 
364 a maruelous sight I shall letl fchee sec." 
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 
liim, 



and takes 
liim to his 
daughtei 's 
bed, and 
tells him 

to get into it. 



Gawaine 
does so, 



and the 

Carle goes 

away, 

locking the 

door. 

Next 

morning 

he culls 
Gawaine, 



1 he. Maddi 

■ iv. ( . q. Pencil note. 

■ Ms. thee. F. 



' the.— P. 



5 Pork. M.S. makes tho Carle send his 
daughter to Gawaine, ib, p. 201.— V. 

" 111 I lie llrxt ni. — P. 



Vol,. Ill 



290 



CARLE OFF CARLILE. 



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 
Curie's) head 
oil'. 

G awaine 
refuses, 



whereupon 



the Parle 
says he'll 
cut his head 
off if he 
don't do it. 

Bo 1 1 awaine 
cuts the 
Carle's 
head off, 
and he 



& there tliey found many * a bloody serke 
3G8 which, were wrought with curyous werke : 

1500 dead mens bones 2 

they found vpon a rooke 3 att once. 

"alaeke!" qnoth Sir Gawaine, " what haue becnc 
here ? " 
372 saith, " I & my welpes haue slaine all there." 

then Sir Gawaine curteous and kind, 4 

he tooke his leaue away to wend, 

& thanked they carle & the Ladyes there, 
37G right as they worthy were. 

"nay," said the carle, "wee will first dine, 

& then thou shalt goe with, blessing mine. 5 " 

after dinner, the sooth to say, 
380 the carle tooke Gawaine to a Chamber gay 

where were hanginge swords towe 6 ; 

the Carle soone tooke one of tho, 

& sayd to the ~K.nhjht then, 
384 " Gawaine, as thou art a man, 

take this sword & stryke of my head." 

" Nay," said Gawaine, " I bad 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 sainc, 

& 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 Sir Gawaine, ft"* 6 ''I 

396 " Sir, jour bidding shall be done : " 

he stroke the head the body ffroe, 

& be stood vp a man thoe 



1 One stroke too few in tho MS. — F. 
'-' a bones, MS. —Madden. I think the 
a i • meant to be blotched out. — F. 
' i. e. a ruck, a heap, — P. 



1 hend, q. — Pencil note. 
■"• Only half the m in the MS. Madden 
reads mine too. — F. 
c rowe. — Madden. 



CARLE OFF CAKLILE. 



2U1 



of the height of Sir Gawaine, 
400 the certaine soothe w/thouten Laine. 

the carle sayd, " Gawaine, god blese thee, 

ffor thou hast deliuered mee ! 

ffrom all ffalse witchcrafft 1 
404 I am deliuerd 2 att the Last; 

by Nigromance thus was I shapen 

till a Kmghi 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 
4 1 2 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. 
4 1 8 Christ grant thee of his mercy c ! 

he ilt at 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 
4 24 vntill itt be doomes day. 

& Gawaine, for the louc of thee 

euery one shall bee welcome to me." 

Sir Gawaine & the young Lady clere, 
428 the Bishopp weded 7 them in ffere; 



stands up a 
proper man, 



and thanks 
Gawaine 
for deliver- 
ing him 
from the 
witchcraft 



thai 10 years 
ago trans- 
formed him, 
so to he till 
••i Kniulil oJ 
the Bonnd 
Table should 
cut his head 
off. 



"Christ 
reward you ! 



Henceforth 
I'll kill no 
one; 



but every- 
body shall 
be welcome 
tn me. 
The Bishop 
marries 
(law aineand 



1 ? witchcraffts caBt. Ca is the regu- 
lar word for a magical contrivance, and 
the line is too shorl as ii stands. 
Skeat. 

Vfaddi ii omil a the d. F. 

' 1 would read : 

by Nigromance I bus was I bound, 



till a Knight of the table round. — Skeat. 
* MS. shitten. — F. 
' ftaddi a reads worn, and notes 

" ? -F. 
■ i. e. thro' me.— P. 
1 wedded, — iMadilon. 



21)2 



CARLE OFF CAItLILL;. 



the Carle's 
daughter. 

The Carle 

gives K;i\ 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 liim * for his wedding 
a staffe, miter, 2 & a ringe. 
he gaue 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 Avas charged with gold ; 
shee was soe gorgeous & soe gay, 
no man cold tell her array. 
the carle commanded Sir 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 vnto, 
" fforssooth I shall yowr 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-Lyght. 
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 hue 4 part away." 
" Marry," sayd S/r Kay againe, 
r)6 " of my liffe 5 I may be ffaine. 

ffor his loue that was in Bethlem borne, 
you must dine w/th the carle to-morne." 
in the dawning of the day the rode 6 ; 
-.GO a mcrryer meeting was neuer made. 



' Sc. the bishop.— P. 

- a staff, a miter, &c. — I'. 

:i wend rimes also willi bringe, 1. IDS. 
Skeat. 



'i.e. alive. — P. part = depart- Skeat. 
5 Lifte, MS., says Madden.— F. 
G rade. qu.— P. 



CARLE OFF CARLILE. 



293 



when they together were mett, 

itt was a good thing, I you hett ; 

the trumpetts plaid att the gate, 
464 with trumpetts l of siluer theratt 2 ; 

there [was] all manner of Minstrclsye, 

harpe, Gyttorne, 3 and sowtrye. 

into the hall the King was ffett, 4 
468 & royallye in seat was sett. 

by then the dinner was readye dight, 

tables were couered 5 all on height ; 

then to wash they wold not blinn, 
472 & the ffeast they can beginn. 

there they were mached arright, 

euery Lady against a Knight ; 

And Minstrells sate in windowes ffaire, [page 455] 
476 & playd on their instruments cleere ; 

" Minstrells ffor worshipp att euery messe 

ffull Lowd they cry Largnesse 6 ! " 

the carle bade the Kmg " doe gladlye, 
480 ffor heere yee gett great curtesye." 

the King said " by Saint Michaell 

this dinner Liketh me ffull well." 

he dubd the carle a Knight anon, 
484 he gaue him the county of carlile soone, 

& made him Erie of all that Land, 7 

& after, "Knight of the tabic round. 

the Kmg said, " Knight, I tell thee, 
488 carlile 8 shall thy name bee." 

when the dinner was all done, 

euery Knight tookc his lcauc soone, 



are received 
at the 
Carle's 

with pound 
of trumpet, 

harp, 

gittern, and 
psaltery ; 



tables are 
laid, 



and the feast 
begins, 



minstrels 
playing the 

while. 



Arthur likes 
his dinner, 



knights the 
Carle, gives 
him Carlisle, 

makes him 
an Earl, and 
a Knight of 
the Hound 
Tabic, and 
christens 
him Carlisle. 



After dinner 
the guests 



1 trunnpetts MS.— F. 

- therott, .Ms., aaya Maddi n. — F. 

:| gyttorne, MS., Bays Madden. — F. 

' has fell, MS.. B aya Madden.— F. 

• covered. — P. Pork, has a better de- 
scription of the room and dinner, L 603 

24. -F. 



6 Largesse. — P. 

' Loud.— P. 

s No kni^lil of this name occurs in 
the French romances of the Hound Table, 
nor in the Morte d? Arthur e of Malory 
Madden'a Syr G., p. 348.— F. 



294 



CAKLE OFF CARLILE. 



go home. 
May God 



bring our 
souls to 
heaven 1 

Amen ! 



to wend forward soberlye 
492 home into their owne countrye. 1 

he that made vs all with his hand, 

both the sea and the Land, 

errant vs all ffor his sake 
496 this ffalse world to fforsake, 

& out of this world when wee shall wend, 

to heanens blisse our soules bringc ! 

god grant vs grace itt may soe bee ! 
500 Amen, say all, ffor Charitye ! 

ffinis. 



1 The Porkington MS. makes the 
Carle (according to his promise, 1. 422-3 
above), found " A ryche Abbey . . in the 



towne of mery Carleyle . . for the men 
bat he had slayno." — F. 



[" Off all the Seaes" printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 85, folloios here 

in the MS. p. 455.] 



295 



?X>cro : vSr : iLrantrrr : l 

Quid juvenis, magnum cui versat in ossibus ignem 
Durus amor? Nempe abruptis turbata procellis 
Nocte natat caeca serus freta ; quern super ingens 
Porta tonat cceli et scopulis illisa reclaniant 
iEquora; nee miseri possunt revocarc parent' S, 
Nee moritura super crudeli funere virgo. 

Virg. Georg. iii. 258-G3. 

This subject has been a favourite one with both ancient and 
modern writers. The eighteenth and nineteenth of Ovid's 
Heroides deal with it. A famous poem was written on it by 
Musseus : 

elirh, flea, Kpvtyiuv inifxaprupa. Xvxvov ipuroiv, 
kclI vvx^v TrAcoTijpa 9a\acr(TOTr6pajv u/xevaiW, 
Kal yd/j.oi' dx^v6ei/T<z rbv ovk 18ev &(p6iTos 'Has, 
Kal 2,7](TTby Ktx\ " AfivSoi' liirrj ydfios 6Wvxos"Hpovs. 

When he lived is unknown ; perhaps not before the fifth cen- 
tury 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, " tollerably regular." 
It cannot indeed lay claim to any plenary inspiration ; it is 

1 A Poem tollerablj [so) regular, I'. 



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. 

References to the touching story lie thick in literature, from 
the mention of " The Amours of Hero and Leander," in the Com- 
plaint of Scotland, to Bosalind'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 mid- 
summer 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 ' Hero of Sestos.' ' 

In recent times Hood and Turner have, each in his own way, 
illumined and glorified the old tragedy. 



Once wore 
two lovers, 



whose story 
I'll tell you. 



10W : ffamous louers once there was, 

whome fame hath quite fforgott, 
who liuecl long most constantlye 

without all emiious blott. 
shee was most ffaire, & hee most true, 
•which, caused, that that did ensue : ffa : la : la 
whose story I doe meane to write, 
and title itt trueloues delight : f a : la : la : 



Leander and 



Hero. 



The Helles- 
pont 
separated 
them. 



Leander was this young mans name, [page 45C] 

right noble by discent, 
& hero, shee, whose bewtyes rare 
12 might R'iue Loue great content, 

hee att Abydos kept his court, 
shee att cestos liued in sport, fa : la : la. 
a riuer great did part these twainc, — 
16 w/(i'ch caused them oft, poore soules, complaine 
fa : la : la : — 



HERO AND LEAN DEI!. 



297 



Eucn Hellespont, whose current strcame 

like lightning swift did glyde ; 
accursed riuer thai 2 harts 

20 soe ffaithfull must l devyde ! 

And more, w///'ch did augment their woe, 
the parents were eche others ffoe, fa : la : la : 
soe that no shipp durst him conuay 

24 vnto the place where his Hero Lay, ffa : la : la : 

Long time these louers did complaine 
the Misse of their desires, 

not knowing how the 2 might obtaine 
28 the thing they did require. 

though hee were parted w/th rough seas, 

no watters cold loues fflame 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 might 
3G throug[h] Hellespont soe cleere ; 

wher att 4 the shore Hero wold bee 

to welcome him most Louinglye, fa : la ■ 

& soe Leander wold conuay 
40 vnto the Chamber where slice Lay, fa: la : 

Thus many dayes the did enioye 
the fruite of their delight, 

for he oft to his Hero came, 
44 & backe againc same night ; 

And shce for to encourage him 

through Hellespont more boldlyc swim, 5 fa : la : 

In her tap G tower a lampc did place, 
48 wherby he might behold her llace, fa : la : 



and their 
parents were 
enemies. 



For a long 
time the 
lovers conld 
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 
pui a lamp 
in her tower, 



' MS. nuns!. —F. 

- they. 1'. 

3 Ms. darkesone. — F 



' MS. wheratt.— F. 
■' ? MS. siarin.— F. 
" high : taper, qu.— 



P. tap.— F. 



298 



IIEKO AND LEANDER. 



and sit by it, 

praying for 
her love. 



And by this lampe wold Hero sitt, 

still pray[i]ng for her loue, 
that tlie rough watters vnto him 

52 might not offensiue proue : 

" be mild," quoth shee, " while he doth swim, 
& that I haue well welcomed him, fa : [la :] 
& then euer rage & rore amaine, 

5f> that he may neuer goe hence againe, fa : la : 



Winter 
came with 
its storms, 



but these did 
not stop 
Leander. 



Now boisterous winter hasted on, 
when winds & watters rage ; 

yett cold itt not the Lustffull hart 
GO 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 ffloods to proue fa : la : 



He leapt into 
the Helles- 
pont, 



but could 
not reach 

land, his 
lover's lamp 
was out. 



Then leapt hee into Hellespont, 

desirous for to goe 
vnto the place of his delight, 

CS w7«'ch hee affected soe ; 

but winds & waues did him withstand 
soe that he cold attaine no Land, fa : la 
ffor his loues lampe [he] looked about ; 

72 ffaire Hero slept, & itt was out. fa : la : 



la 



la: 



His body 

was ca I 

ashore. 



Then all in vaine Leander strouc 

till armes cold doe no more ; 
for naked, he, depriued of liffe, 

70 was cast vpon the shore. 

O had the Lampe still stayed in, 

Leander liueles had not beene : f a : la : la : 

which, being gone, he knew no ground, 

80 because thick darknesse did abound, fa : la la : 



IIEKO AND LEANDEli. 



299 



Hero awoke 
and found 
her lamp 
out. 



When Hero ffaire awaket firom sleepe, [page 457] 

& saw her lampe was gone, 
her sences all bemimed were, 
84 & shee like to a stone. 

! ffrom her eyes, then perles more Clecre, f a : la : she wept, 
proceeded many a dolefull teare, 

perswadingf ' that the angry flood fearing 

1 ° ° J Leander's 
88 had drunke Leanders guiltlesse hloode, fa : la : fate. 



Then to the topp of highest tower 

faire hero did ascend, 
to see how the winds did with the waues 

92 for mastership contend, 

& on the sand shee did espye 
a naked bodye liuelesse lye, fa : la : 
& lookeing more vpont, shee knew 

96 itt was Leanders bloudlye hew. f a : la : 



She paw his 
corpse on the 
sand. 



Then did shee teare her golden hairc, 
& in her greeue thus sayd, 

" accursed riuer ! that art still 
100 a foe to euery maide 

since Hellen ffaire in thee was drowned, 

named Hellespont, that euer ffround, fa : la -. 

& now to see what thou canst doe, 
104 thou hast made me a mourner too ! fa : la : la : 



She tore her 
hair, 



cursed the 
Hellespont, 



" But though thou didst attach my louc, 
& tookest him ff'or thy owne, 

that hec was only es 2 Heroes decre, 
108 hencforth itt shall bo knowne." 

then ffrom the tower faire Hero Sell, 

■whose woefull death I sigho to tell, fa : La 

and on his body there did dye 
:i2 that loued her most tenderlye, fa : la: 



and fell 

from her 

tower, 

<>n Leander's 
body, and 
died. 



1 perswaded. — Skeat. 



? for mill/ his, or only* withoul the s. V. 



300 HERO AND LEANDER. 

Thus endeth both they 1 liffe & louo 

in prime 2 of their young yeeres, 
since whose untimely ffuneralls 
lie no such true loue appeares. 
vntill more constant loue arise, 
their names I will imupetelasze, 3 £ a : la : 

May true 

lovers now & heauen fffrantl such as haue 4 true ffriends, 

have better LO J ' 

ends! 12 o as ffaithffull harts, but better ends ! fllnis. 



1 their.— P. 

3 qu. MS.— F 
' * grant such. — P. 



2 MS. pine.— F. 

himpettelaze, corruptly written for immortalize. — P. 

3 



301 



CtTs&ud: 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;'' 'Cod. 7564, Roman de Troilus et de 
Briseida ou Oreseida.'' ' Chaucer, as is well known, in his nar- 
rative refers to " myn auctor Lollius : " but who this Lollius 
was is a question of much difficulty. Manifestly, the tale was 
extremely popular, and found its way into many different lan- 
guages and forms. 

Warton notices in the Eegister of the Stationers' Company 
" A ballet intituled the History of Troilus ivhose troth 2 had well 
been tryed" licensed to Purfoote in 1565, and again in 1581, 3 
and ia 1608. 

The following piece gives a summary of the old tale, with the 
moral of it. 



CRESSUS : was the ffairest of Troye, Troilus 

wliom Troylus did louc ! 

the Knight was kind, & slice was coy, coukinot 

4 no words nor worthies 4 cold moue, tm 

iii- Pandarna 

(ill Prndaurus ° soe playd Ins part heipedhim. 

that the Knight obtained her hart, 

1 Ii bM be Cresside, see Chancer cK: Collier. Beg. Sta. Comp. vol. i.p. 121. — F. 
Shakespear.— P. 3 Collier, vol. ii. p. 1 16. — F. 

- Warton'a correction of "thn ' worth. — P. 5 Pandarne. — P. 



302 



CKESSUS. 



the Ladyes rose destroyes : 
[They] held sweet warr a winters night 
till the enuyous day gaue light ; 

w7«'ch darkness ' loners ioyes. 



When tlie 
Trojans lost, 

Cressid 



loved 
Diomede. 



Cresses 2 lone lones mother 3 crost, 
12 fforetold her in a dreame 

how Grecyans 4 won, how Troians Lost. 
fFalse lone ffleetes with the streame : 

Shee sweete ffaces, vallyant flights, 
1 G who pnt downe the Troian knights, 

downe might their Ladyes put. 

dioned 5 thought her noe mayd, 

yctt lones debt was richely paid, 
20 the seas the poorest cutt. 



So lasses, 
learn 



that one love 
cloys ; 

change it 
then, 



like your 
clothes, 
and take the 
best. 



Lasses, learne some witt by this ! 
though Ladyes truth proffesse, 
no signe remaines of vnseen kisse 
24 vnlesse a ffoole conffesse, 

what pleased to-day, to-morrow cloyes; 
Ioy growes dull that still enioyes ; 

change loue, for loues sweet sake. 
28 now hopes pleased 6 with pleasure strange ; 
then chang lone, with garments change, 
& still the better take. 

ffinis. 



1 darkens. — P. 

2 Cresside's. — P. 

: < Love's-mother. — P. 



4 Grecians. — P. 

5 Diomede. — P. 

^ new hopes please.— Skeat. 



303 



This song is in Westminster Droller*!, 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 
Avork, dated 1671, could be found. Eecourse was therefore had 
to Mr. Lilly, of New Street, Covent 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. F urn i vail to collate the Folio proof with it. We thank 
him for his courtesy, and wish his example was followed by all 
ii ul ile 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 
Old 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. Billy; but this has now been 
put aside in favour of the collation with the earlier Droller;/ 
copy. In the O.B. copy which Mr. Brock used, the order of the 
stanzas differs from that of the Folio and Westminster Droller;/; 
the firsl four and the last coincide, bul the others vary thus: — 



In the print* I tion of old Ballade L2 v., I. 3, pag. 198, N. 36.— P. 



304 SONGS OF SIIErARDES. 

Stanza 5 of MS. and W.D. is stanza 9 of O.B. 

>> " JJ 11 O )J 

U ' )> J> " )t 

)> " JJ J) " ,, 

11 " JJ 11 * J) 

The gods, ennuyes, tired of lying beside their nectar, sick of 
their " securum aevum," 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 Loin 
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 houndo ; 
Farewell markes and many a pounde ; 
Farewell huntynge at the hare ; 
Farewell harte and hynde for evcrmaro. 

There are other copies, as Mr. Chappell points out, in Wit and 
Drollery (1682), Pills to purge Melancholy (1707), and Dryden's 
Miscellany Poems. 



are not 
worthy 
to tell 



Songs of JjONGS : of shepards, 2 rasticall roundelaycs 

shepherds 

rTramed on 3 ffancyes, 2 whistled on reeds, 
songs 4 to solace young Nimphes 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, 
!"'",' 1 } K , , 8 how states 10 diuined u once hunted 12 the hare. 

Gods hunted 
the hai - e. 

1 Seepages 320-1 of Chappell's Popu- G Ingenious. — W.D. ingenious. — P. 
far Music. — F. 7 winged Oylenius. — W.D. witty Cyl- 

2 Westminster Drollery inserts 'and.' lenius. — P. K MS. cenius. — F. 
—F. 3 Form'd uf.— W.D. 9 And voice. W.D. I0 stars.— P. 

'Sum-. W.D. " devin'd.— W.D. divine. \V. Chap- 

5 too.— W.D. too. P. pel). '•-" the hunting.— P. 



SONGS OF SHEPARDES. 



305 



Starres inamoured with pastimes Olimpicall, 

stares & planetts that bewtiffull showne, 
wold noe longer that earthlye men only shall l 
12 swim in pleasures, & tlicy but looke on. 

Round about horned Lucina tlie'-' swarmed, 

& her informed how minded they were, 
Eche god & goddesse, to take humane bod) es, 
t(> as Lords & Ladyes, to fibllow the hare. 



The stars 
and planets 



told the 
moon 
that they 
meant to 
take 

human form, 
and hunt the 
hare. 



•20 



24 



chasl dyana aplauded the motyon, 

with 3 pale p/ - oserpina sate in her place, 
Lights 4 the welkin & gouemes the Ocean 

whilest 5 shee conducted her nephews in chase, 
& by her example 6 her flavour 7 to trample 

the cold & ample 8 earth, leaueth the y ayre, 
Neptune the watter, the wind 10 liber pater, 

& Mars the slaughter, to fibllow the hare. 



Diana, 
Proserpine, 



Neptune, 
and Mars 
join in the 
hunt, 



Light young u Cupid, horsset 12 vpon Pegasus, with Cupid, 

borrowed of Muses with Kisses and prayers ; 
strong Alcydes vpon cloudye Caucasus Alcides, 

2S mounts a Centaure that proudlye him beares ; 

Postylyou of the skye, light heeld 13 Mercurye, Mercury, 

makes u his courser ffly as fflight as the l5 ayre ; 
yellow Appollo the Kenell doth ffbllow, Apollo, 

32 with Uj whoope and hallow after the hare. 



Hymen vshcrs the Ladyes ; Astrea 

the 17 iust tooke hands with Minerua the bold, 



Astn a, 
Minerva, 



1 should.— P. 

- they.- W.I), they.— P. 

: ' And. W'.h. And.— P. 

• Which Lights.— P. 

■ while. W.D. 

• Mini, qu.— 1'. 

■ Father. W.D. 

» Tli.' Earth old & ample.— P. 
leave. W.l>. leave t! 

A I 'I.. III. 



. :■ 



'" Wine. W.D. wine.— P. 
" god. W.I). 
'- was hors'd.— W.D. 
13 footed.— P. 
11 maketh: Conj.— P. 
i» fly Bleel us 'the.— W.D. 
the. P. 

'" and. W.D. 



flee! 



that, uu.— P. 



\ 



306 



SONGS OF SKErAEDES. 



CereS) Cores the browne with the l bright Cyther[e]a, 2 

Thetis, 36 Thetis 3 the wanton, Bellona the old, 4 

Aurora, shame-ffast 5 Aurora, with suttle Pandora, 

Maya, & May 6 with fflora did company 7 beare ; 

Juno, Inno 8 was stated too hye to be mated, 

40 but, 9 10 shee hated not hunting the hare. 



Narcissus, 
Somniis, 

Mulciber, 
Pan. 

iEolus, 

Momus. 



drowned Narssissus ffrom his Metamorphisis 

raised with ll Eccho, new manhoode did take ; 
snoring Somnus vpstarted in cinaris, 12 
4 4 that this l3 1000 d yeeres 14 was not awake, 

to see clubflboted old Mulciber booted, 
& Pan promoted on Aeolus 15 mare ; 
proud iEolous 16 pouted, proud 17 Aeolus 18 shouted 
4S & Momus fflowted, but ffollowed the hare. 



The hounds 
give tongue, 
the hunters 
sound their 
horns. 



We 

shepherds 
told our 
fancies about 
the hunt: 



deepe Melampus & cuning Ignobytes, 19 

Nappy, 20 & tigre, & harpye, the s[k]yes 21 
rends with 22 roiling, whilest hunter like 23 Hercules 
52 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 
56 what wee conceited of their hunting the hare. 



' W.D. omits the.— F. 
2 Cytherea.— P. 

With Thetis.— W.D. 

doth hold. Sic legcrim. — P. 

Shamefac't. — W.D. 

Maya.— P. May.— W.D. 

MS. campany. — F. 
8 But Juno.— P. 9 Altho'.— P. 

10 yet.— W.D. 

" Rowzed by.— P. Eais'd by.— W.D. 
I; Cimmeris. — P. Cineris. — WD. 

13 The which.— P. 

14 thousand year. — W.D. 

15 Chirons.— W.I). 

,fi Pallas.- -P. Faunus.- W.D. 
" and.- W.D. 
,s and ZEolus. — P. 



•P. Ichnobates 

-W.D. 



19 fortunate Lrelaps.- 
— W.D. 

20 Jowler. — P. Nape.- 

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 OldBaUads: 

Till with varieties 
To solaco their deities, 
Their weary Pieties 
refreshed were. 
W.D. lias the variations of the text 
above, and the two lines are printed as 
four. — F. 

20 And 1 here.— W.D. Line 55 is 
written as two lines in the MS; — F. 



SONGS OF SHEPARDES. 307 

yooung Amyntas supposed the gods came to breathe, Amyntas 

told his, 

after some battell, 1 themselues on the ground ; 
Thirsis thought theystarres* came to dwell herebcneath, Thyrsi- hie, 
60 & that herafter they 3 world wold goe round ; 
Corydon aged, with Phillis engaged, 

was much inraged with iealous dispayre, 
but fFeare 4 rewarded, 5 & he was perswaded, 
64 when I thus aplauded their hunting the hare : 



and I told 
mine. 



" starres 6 but shadowes where, 7 states 8 were but sorrow, " stars arc 

shadows. 

Hint J noe 10 motyon, nor that no delight ll ; '_'.»isno 

m delight; 

Ioyes are Iouyall, delight is the Marrow 
6S of liffe, & action the apple 12 of light l3 ; 

pleasure d[e]pends vpon no other ends,' 4 

but 15 ffreely lends to eche vertue a share; 
only is mesure ,G the Iewell of treasure 17 ; the treasure 

. , of pleasure 

72 of pleasure the treasure is l8 hunting the hare." is hunting 



the hare." 



fibwre 19 broad bowles to the Olimpicall rector 

///at 20 Troy borne 9l Egle does bring 22 on his knee ! 

lone to Pheobus Carrouses in nector, 
And he to Hermes, & Hermes to mee, linage 4.wj 

wliere-w/th infused, I pipet 23 & I mused 



It has 



Here's 
health to all 
who lovo 



in verse ,4 vnused, this sport 25 to declare. inspired m« 

x to write 

O K that the rouse of Ioue, round as his spheero may **j^ 
moue, 
8 l hclth to all Unit loue hunting the hare ! tbTiSL 

(fin is. 

' battels.- -W.D. - the stars.— W.D. " ; As measures.— W.D. 

3 tlio.— W.I). * fury was faded.— P. ' 7 pleasures. — W.D. 

• s fury vaded.— W.D, Alone is pleasure 

e Starr's.— W.D. The measure of treasure.— P 

7 were, W.D. were: Joys. — P. I8 treasures of. W 1) 

'state. W.D. » Had they.— W.D. '•'Tin W.D. M His — W D 

,n they without— P. 2 ' Boy presents.— P. 

" these wanting DelayAt.— P. M he brings WD 

- axle. W.D. '• axle of might, I'. -M p ,,mI. W.D. "s'soncs— WD 



'* friends. W.D. ,4 Andyet W.D. » their sports.— P. 2 * And,— W.d! 

[The following pieces, printed in Lo. and Hum. Songs, pp 87-101 
followhen in the MS. (pp. 1-59-63): "Loners hea^ke alarum," " I 
frevnde of mine; 1 "O nay, nay, not i/ett;' " / cannot bee contented " 
- J.Jhnu.r/,,,,,,;' - The Sea-crabb," "Last night I thought"'} 

.x 2 



308 



€i)t iaumian ^fiore* 1 

" Mr. Thorpe, the enterprising bookseller of Bedford Street," 
■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 Kichard Jackson, all copied prior to 
the year 1631, and including man}?- 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 Rime 
which he made at the Mytre in Fleete Streete.' It begins, ' From 
the rich Lavinian Shore,' and some few of the lines were pub- 
lished by Plaj^ford and set as a catch." 

Mr. Thorns (see Anecdotes and Traditions, printed for the 
Camden Society) and Dr. Eimbault (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. Rimbault gives an interesting version from a MS. collection 
of songs formerly in possession of J. S. Smith, editor of Musica 
Antiqua. 

From 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' yo lack ? 
What d' ye buy ? 
For here it is to be sold. 



1 One stanza of tliis is in Wilson's Cheerefull Ayres (1600) p. 3.— F. 



THE L.U'IMAN SHORE. 309 

I have beauty, honour, grace, 
Virtue, favour, time, and space, 
Ana what else thon wouldst request, 
E'en the thing thou likcst best. 
First, let mo have but a touch of thy gold. 
Then come too, lad, 
Thou shalt have 
What thy lust never gave. 
For here it is to bo sold. 

Though thy gentry bo but young, 
As the flower that this day sprung, 
And thy father thee beforo 
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 whoso obscure birth so bast- 
Ranks 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 bo 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 
Cheerefull Ayres and Ballads (1660), in Playford's Catch that 
Catch Can (1667). The first stanza is given as "set" by Dr. 
V>ilson in Playford's Musical Companion (1673). 

A remarkable writer in the Athenamm, quoted by Dr. Kim- 
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, Bank, Repu- 
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 " refused " as a lover ; he was always a gentle- 
man 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 uncroAvded. 

Vineant divitise, sacro ne cedat honori, 

Nuper in banc urbem pedibus qui venerat albis; 

Quandoquidem inter nos sanctissima divitiarum 

Majestas, etsi funosta pecunia templo 

Nonduin habitas, nullas niimmorura ereximus aras. 

This famous chapman, himself urged on, as he confesses, by ' auri 
sacra fames ' (v. 5), comes from far-away Italy — from Lavinia 
littora (v. 1. Compare, in D'Urfey's Pills to purge Melancholy, 

A gentlo breeze from the Larinian shore 
Was gliding o'er the coast of Sicily.) 

Did Italy already in the earlier years of the seventeenth cen- 
tury 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? Tin; " Grand us 



THE L.YITINIAN SHORE. 311 

esuriens " whom Juvenal described with such sarcasm, as ready 
to turn his hand to anything and everything, to turn 

Gramniaticus, rhetor, geometres, pictor, aliptes, 
Augur, schoenobates, medicus, magus, 

was but a type of what his own countryman became in later 
times. 



IIROM the rich ' Lauinian shore i come from 

far 
I yo»r markett 2 come to store. 

muse not you I soe farr 3 dwell, 

4 [&] hither 4 come my warres to sell ; 5 ^JJ my 

Such is they 6 Sacred hunger of gold. 

come 7 to my packe ! will you buy 8 what you 9 Buy what 

you lack! 

lacke : 10 
what you lacke, 11 
heare shall you haue ,2 to be sold. 

8 you whose flfortune young denyes l3 You unsuc- 

ii i ii cessful 

grace m your belouecl l4 eyes ; lovers, 

thou thy loues, vowes, or deserts 15 
nought preuaile in womans harts ; 
\-2 soe be your palmes anointed w/th gold 1G bring me 

come to me then ! when, gentlemen, will you buy ? !7 

loue, loue, is heere to be sold. * nA vn sell 

you love. 

you, whose birth obscure & base You base- 

born men 
16 rankes you w/th ignoble 18 race ; 

1 faire. — Wilson's Ayres. " what d'ye buy. — W.A. 

- Markets.— W.A. u for here it is. —W.A. 

1 though so farr I. — W.A. " you, whom Fortune's Wrong denies. 

1 and hither.-P. —P. 

5 and my wares come here to sell. H beloved's. — P. 

-W.A. '* For all your loves, vows, &c. — P. 

1 the.— P. u Unless their palms be (I w d . read). 

" then come. — W.A. — P. 

* while I cry. — W.A. " "Come to me then, 

'' d'ye. W.A. will you buy Gent". 

"' What yon Lacke is here to be sold. " Gen.'love &c— P. 

J' lb of ignoble.— P. 



312 



THE LAUIMAN SHORE. 



who are 

ambitious. 



bring me 

fold, 



and I'll sell 
you a place. 

Yon 
parvenus 

whose 
lathers had 
no arms, 

bring me 
gold, 



and I'll sell 
you 

heraldry. 

Yon 

defamed, 
deficient in 

body or 
mind, 



bring me 
gold, and 
I'll sell you 
fame and 
perfection. 



hope, ambityon, hyer strines 

ffor jour selues & ffor your wiues ; 

well then, supply thy deflects with thy gold ; 
'JO come for thy race, care not thou for a place, for a 
place, 
for a place is heare to he sold. 

Though thy gentry be as younge 
as the fflower that this day spronge, 
24 though thy ffather thee before 
neuer sheild nor scuchyon bore : 

canst ffind in thy [heart] ' for to part w/th thy 
gold ? 
come to me, lad, thou shalt haue what thy dad 
neuer had : 
heeres Heraldrye to be sold. 



28 



32 



Hath blind ffortune hurt thy ffame, 
or vnkind nature hurt thy fframe ? 
hart, 2 nor mind, nor body, partes, 
strong 3 proportion, or deserts? 

well then supply thy defects w/th thy gold ; 
come tome then ! buy thy fame ; come 4 again e ! 
buy thy frame ; 

ffor both are heare to be sold. 



But you 
dullards, 



and scorn ers, 



whatever 
gold you 
bring, 

I can sell 
yon mil In r 
wit nor 
lmiK sty. 



36 But dull chapemen, they dispise 

my rich ffairings to be wise ; 

they whose humors 5 still doth 6 scorne 

truth, 7 and trickes & toyes adorne ; 
40 If you doe come w/th Millyons of gold, 

Seekc ffurther yet in my stall ; 

there is witt none att all, 
nor honesty, to be sold. 

ffinis. 



' in thy heart— P. 
2 Hast.— P. 
a strength.— P. 



4 MS. cono. — F. come.— P. 

6 MS. liunors.— F. 

8 do. — P. 7 those whom. — P. 



313 



Come mg foatntp tojrcgsu 1 



[page 4G4] 



Tins 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. 
20G." 



IjOME : my dainty doxeys, my dills, my dcares ! 

we haue neither house nor land, 
yet neuer want good cheere ; 
4 wee take no care far candle, rents ; 

wee sleepe, we snort, we snore, in tents. 

Then rouse In-time, & steak- our dinners; 

our store is neuer taken w/thout pig'g or bacon, 
8 & thats good meate ffor sinners. 

Att wakes & ffaii-es we cozen 
poore cuntry folkes by the dozen ; 
if one haue money, he disbursses, 
12 while some tell fortune, some 2 picke pursses. 



Come my 
dears ! 
Tho' we've 

no houses 



we live in 
tents. 



(!o and steal 
our dinners ! 



Cheat tho 
countryfolk 
at fairs. 



A Gypsy's Song.— P. 



MS. sone.— F. 



314 



COME MY DAINTY BOXEYS. 



For practice, 
steal boots, 

smocks, or 
anything! 



rather then Hue out of vse, 
steale hose or garters, bootes or shooes, 
boots, guilded spurres w/th ingling l rowells, 
l 6 shirts or smockes, napkins or towells. 



Come and 
live with us, 
all who love 
their ease ! 
Gipsies get 
drunk when 
they please, 



come Hue w/th vs, come Hue with vs, 

all you that loue yowr eases! 
he thats a Gipsey, may be drunke & tipscy 
20 att what houre he pleases ! 



laugh, 
and steal. 



wee laugh, wee quaffe, wee rorc, we shuffle, 
wee iilch, wee steale, wee drab, wee sckuffle ! 

ffinis. 



perhaps jingling- — P- 



315 



Co : (^vffortif : 

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 play- 
acting, the " qua>stiones " — 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. 
(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 (apud Nichols 1. c. 
note): "It must be now noted that when King James was en- 
tertained 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 us 

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 Com- 
bination Kooms 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 10 : Oxford the King is gone 

pone to 

Oxford w/th all his pompous Q-race, 

to see the . 

sigbta. to vew the sights & see the learning 
4 of tli at ffamous place, 



TO OXFFOKDE. 



317 



where dowries of the towne — 
clothed in their scarlett gownes — 
gaue the Kmg such a thing 
as passes all imageninge ; 

a paire of gloues, to testifye their loues 

which, to the "King they bore. 



And tlie 
clowns have 
given him 



a pair o£ 

gloves: 



They gaue him a payre of gloues 
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, 
l <; & a purse stufft full with 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 ? 



yes, 



hunting 
gloves ; 



not plate 
and money, 

as some say. 



Next to christs- church was he brought, 

a place of Mickle ffame, 
where the warden him receiued, — 
24 I haue forgo tt 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, " god saue the Kinge ! 
& grant him grace to run a race 
with pleasure in Royston downes ! " 



At Christ- 
church 



they took 
him to the 
hall, 



The ball was honge with verses tliieke, 
:]-2 a goodlye sight to see, 

ffor euery one was willed l<> make 
\ erses in his degree. 

to their t rade some had made 
36 verses called ascelpiade. 



which u .i 

hung all 
over with 
verses 



318 TO OXFFORDE. 

of all kinds, lierc might yon find, of euerye Kind, 

verses flitting to jour mincle : 
hexameters, here an examiter, 1 there a pentamiter, 

40 sapliickes, 2 & seasens 3 too. 1 1 1 ills. 



sapphics, 

&c. 



1 hexamet/. — P. (the well-known verses, eallod also chol- 

2 Sapphickes. — P. (amies). — Dyce. 
J Beyond all doubt an error for seasons 



319 



itatipc : Besfcfpe* 1 



Inerat ibi ab unguiculis Doi timor ot servitium admirabile ; in parentes vero 
mira observantia ; erga fratres et sorores amor ferme incredibilis ; in pauperis 
Christ ique 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 Heywood 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 Harl. MS. It is perhaps a little later than it, as it 
speaks of ' our comely King,' probably James the First, in v. 3, 
where the Harleian version reads ' Queen,' 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 0" Parts. Containing a long Ac- whereas our copy in the Folio dates from 

ooun\ of the bringing in of Henry 7". 1 and a King's reign no doubt James l.'s, — 
all the sti ps previous to it, down to the saue & keepe our comelye Kinge. 

battli ofBosworth. — P. (To prevent the repetition of an objec- 

Thie is a later copy of the Ladye tion already made, I add that the epithel 

Bessie in .Ms. Harl. 367, fol. st>, printed ' comelye ' was probably applied to Jame 

by .Mr. Balliwell for the Percy Society because it was in the text, having been 

in l s 1 7 . .- 1 1 p. 43-79of 77«j most pleasant used for Elizabeth.) 
Song of /."d// Bessy. Tie' Harleian Cp.forst. 118, p. 184, TheHarleian 

copy i> doubtless of Elizabeth's reign, copy is not divided into parts. The col- 

all. 1600 Mr. Halliwell says -as in its lation of it here is from Mr Halliwell's 

1 lino, and its last lit' 1 1"K one, it has t-xt. F. 
save and kepe our <■■ imb e q h ene, 



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, proleptically, 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 com- 
pass such an effective meeting ; and the furious spirit of a 
partisan might put into the mouth of a most gentle lady cruel 
words derisive other 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 Richmond.] 

vlOD : that is most of might, God save 

& borne was of a maiden ffree, 

saue & keepe our comelye Kinge ! the King 

4 & all 2 the pore cominaltye ! Commons! 

for wheras King Richard, I vnd[e]rstand, in Richard 

III.'s time 

bad not raigned yeeres three, 
But the best duke in all the Land [page 4cs] 

8 he caused to be headed 3 att Salsburyc. 

that time the Stanleys \v/thout doubt tnc Stanleys 

were dread oner England ffarr & neere, 4 greatest 

next Km^ Richard, thai was sue stout, England; 

12 of any hord in England Ere. 6 

1 queene. — Karl. ' A..-S. ke&fdian, to head, behead. — F. 

2 also.— llarl. 4 me.— Had. 5 froe.— Harl. 

VOL. II r. V 



322 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



and when 
Lady Bessyo 



16 



there was a Lady faire on mold, 
the name of her was litle Bessye ; 

shee was young, shee was not old, 
but of the age l of one and twentyc ; 



was staying 
in London 
with Lord 
Derby, 



shee cold write, & shee cold reede, 

well shee cold worke by prophesyc ; 
shee soiorrned in the Cittye of London 
20 that time w^th the Erie of Darby e. 



she com- 
plained to 
him against 
her nncle, 
King 
Richard : 



"Hedrowned 
my brothers 



vpon a time, as I you tell, 

there was noe more but the Erie & shee ; 
shee made complaint of 2 Richard the King, 
24 that was her vnckle 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 ; 



in a pipe of 

wine, 



and wanted 
to put away 
his Queen 
and lie with 
me. 



You too may 
meet with 
Bucking- 
ham's fate. 



" 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 ! 

" helpe that he were put away, 

for the royall blood destroyed wilbee 4 ! 
Bckingam, that duke of England, 
36 was as great with King Richard as now are yee. 

" the crowne of England there tooke hee, — 

forsooth, LorcZ, this is no lye, — 
& crowned King Richard of England free, 
40 that after beheaded him att Salsburye. 



1 yeares. — Hurl. 



one 



-Hurl. 



» will L— Harl. 

1 destroy will hee. — Harl. 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



o23 



" helpe, father Stanley, I you pray ! 

for on that traitor wrokeri wold I bee ; * 
& helpe Erie Richmond, that Prince soe ' gay, 
41 that is exiled ouer the sea ! 

" for & he were K/»^/, I shold be Queene ; 

I doe him loue, & neuer him see. 
thinkc on Edward, my father, that late was Kimj, 

vpon his deathe-bed where he did lye : 



43 



52 



" of a litle child he put me to thee, 
for to gouerne and to guide 2 ; 

into yo»r keeping hee put mee, 

& left me a booke of prophecye 3 ; — 



Help, too, 



Richmond, 

who is 
exiled. 



I love him. 
Think how 
my father, 
King 

Edward, on 
his death- 
bed, left me 



to your care, 



" I haue itt in keeping in this citye ;— 

he knew that yee might make me a Queene, 
father, if thy will itt be ; 
56 for Richa re? is no righteous Kinge, 

" nor vpon no woman borne was hee ; 

the royall blood of all this land, 
RichftrcZ my vnkle will destroye 
no as he did the Duke of Buckingham, 

"Who 4 was as great with. ~K.mg Richard as now are yee. 

for when he was duke of Gloster, 
he slew good King Hencrye 
C4 in the Tower of London as he lay there. 



as he knew 
that you 
could make 
me Queen. 



Richard will 
destroy all 
the royal 
blood. 



He slew 
King Henry 
in the 
Tower. 



1 Ilarl. omits soe. — F. 

2 For gye = guide. — Dyci , 

8 See "The most pleasant Song of 
Lady Bessy," edited from Mr. Batenian's 
MS. by Mr. Halliwell for the Percy So- 
ciety, p. 4. King Edward speak-, to his 
little Bessy set in a window : 

'• Here is a book of \'" aeon ; keep it well- 
As yon will have the Love of me ; 
Neii her 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, 

Into your words he will agree ; 
For their shall never son of my body 
be gotten 

That shall be crowned after mo, 

But you shall lie (juecn and wear the 

crown, 

Soilothcxpresselhe prophecye." — F. 

' which. — Ilarl. 



y 2 



324 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



Stanley, 
your brother 
Sir William 

can bring 
.000 men, 



your son 
George 



1000 men, 



your son 
Edward 
300 men, 



your nephew 
Sir J. 
Savage 
1500 men, 



" S/r willtam Stanley, thy brother deere 

in the hol[t]e ' where he doth lye, 
he may make 500 fightinge men 2 
G8 by the marry age of his faire Ladye. 3 

"yo?tr sonne George, the Lore? Strange, 

in Latham where he doth lye, 
he may make a ] 000 4 flighting men in fibre, 
72 & giue them wages for monthes three. 

"Edward Stanley that is thy sonne, 5 

300 men may bring to thee, 
thy sonne lames, that young preist, 
76 warden of Manchester was made lately c. 

" S/r Iohn Sanage, thy sisters sonne, — 

he is thy sisters sonne of blood soe nye — 
hee may make 1500 fighting men, 
80 & all his men white hoods to 6 giue ; 



SirG. 
Talbott 



1000 men (?) 



yourself 
1000 men 



You and 
yours can 
bring 
Richmond 
back, 
and then 
he'll be 
King, and T 
Queen." 



" he giueth the pikes " on his banner bright ; 

vpon a feild backed was neuer 8 hee. ^^ a m >l 

S/r Gilbert Talbott, a man of might, 

84 in Sheffeild castle where he doth lye, 

" Hele make a 1000'! men 9 of might, 

& giue them wages Sbr monthes three. 
& thy selfe a 1000 Eagle ffitt 10 to flight, 

85 that is a goodlye sight to see ; 

" for thou & thine withouten pine 

may Bring Richemond ouer the sea ; 
for & he were King, I should be Qncene ; 
92 flather Stanley, remember bee ! " 



1 holte. — Harl. holto, vid. St. 50, &c, 
passim. — P. 

2 ten thowsand fighting men in fere. 
—Hurl. 

3 Harl. transposes lines 68 and 72. — F. 
1 make fyve thowsand. — Harl. 

5 camo, qu. — P. sonne.— Harl. 



u doc, — Harl. 

7 pickes. — Earl. 

8 neuer backed was. — Harl. 

8 He may make ten thowsand. — Harl. 
10 ten thowsand eigle feete. Harl. 
The Stanley badge was an eagle's lout. 
See rol. i. p. 223, note l4 . — F. 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



325 



then answered the Earle againe ; 

these were the words he sayd to BESSTE : 
" & King Richard doe know this thing, 1 
96 wee were vndone, both thou and I ; 

" In a ffire you 2 must brenn, 

my liffe & my lands are 3 lost from mee ; 
therfore these words be in vaine : 
loo leaue & doe away, good Bessye ! " 

" ffather Stanley ! is there no grace ? 

noe Queene of England that I mast bee ? 
then Bessye stoode studying 4 in that place 
1 04 with teares trickling ffrom her eyen : 

" Now I know I must neuer be Queene ! 

all this, man, is longe of 5 thee ! 
but thinke on the dreadffull day 
108 when the great doame itt shalbe, 

" when righteousnesse on the rainbowe shall sitt, 

& deeme G he shall both thee and mee, 
& all nalshood away shall mitt 
1 1 2 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 longc of 7 thee." 

with that shee tooke her head grace 8 downe, 

& threw itt downe 9 vpon the ground, 
both 10 pearles & many a precyous stone 
120 that were better then a 1000 u pound. 



Lord I >crl<\ 

answers, 

that if 
Richard 

knew of this 



he'd bum 
Iict, and 
kill him. 



She must 
begone. 

" Is there no 
grace ? 
Am I never 
to be 
Queen ? 



Stanley ! 
Think on 
the day of 
doom, 

when Christ 
shall judge 
you. 



Care not for 
death, 
bo thai you 
can answer 
God ! " 



r.essye 
dashes her 
head-jewels 
on the 
ground, 



1 then.— Hail. 2 thou.— Harl. 

3 land is. — Harl. 

4 Btyding. — Harl. 

6 on. Harl. 

,; Ami all denie. Harl. 

7 on.— Harl. Cp. Cotgrave's "A toy 
n'apa8 tenu. Thouwerl do hinderance . . 
it was nut long of theo. — F. 



8 perhaps geare.— P. gere.— Harl. 

Yet "grace" may have been intended, as 
in the description ofapeasanl : 
" Her liun grace was of wended straw. 
— W.C. 

did it throve. — Harl. 

10 with.— Harl. 

11 ihrii fowertye. Marl. 



326 



LADTE BESSIYE. 



tears her 
hair, 



124 



her ffaxe l that was as white as silko, 
shortly downe shee did itt rent ; 

with her hands as white as any milke, 
her ffaire ffaxe thns hath shee 2 spilt 3 ; 



wrings her 
hands, 



laments, 
and bids 
Lord Derby 
farewell. 



her hands together can shee wringe, 

& with teares shee wipes her eye ; 

" welladay, Bessye ! " can shee sing, 

128 & parted with the Erie of darbye. 



He turns 
pale, 



" ffare-well, man ! now am I gone ! 

itt shall be long ere thou me see ! " 
the Erie stood still as any stone, 
132 & all Marked 4 was his blee. 



weeps, 

says " Stay, 
Bessie ! 

Here 



when he heard Bessye make such mone, 

the teares fell downe from his eye, 
" abycle, Bessye ! wee -part not soe soonc ! 
136 heere is none now 5 but thee and I ; 



I fear 
overhearers, 



" ffeild hath eyen, & wood hath eares, 

you cannott tell wdio standeth vs by ; 
but wend forth, Bessye, to thy Bower, 
140 & looke you doe as I bidd yee 6 : 



but at 9 
to-night, 
I'll be in 
yonr bower 



" put away thy maydens bright, 
that noe person doth vs see 7 ; 
for att nine of the clocke within this night, 
144 in thy bower will I be with thee ; 



1 faxe, hair, A.-S./<?f(.r, idem. — P. 

2 he.— Harl. 

3 ? splent (cf. splinter). — Dyee. 

4 blencked. Earl, blanked — his blee, 
ride infra, Page 470 [of MS. 1.41 2 here]: 



i.e. his Complexion turned pale. — P. 
5 I wene here is noe moe. — Harl. 
11 the.— Harl. 
7 there with us bee. — Harl. 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



327 



148 



" then of this matter wee will talke l more, 
when there is no moe but you 2 and I ; 

A charcole [fire] 3 att my desire, 
that no smoke come in our eye ; 4 



anil talk 
more with 
you. 

Have a 
charcoal fire 
that won't 
smoke, 



" 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." 



and pen, ink 
and paper 
all ready." 



Bessye made her busines, & forth is gone, 

& tooke her leaue att the Erie of Darbye, 
& put away her maydens anon, 
15G no man nor mayd 6 was therby ; 



She goes 
home, 



sends away 
her maids, 



A charcole fire was ready bowne, — 

there cane no smoke within his eye, 
peeces of wine many a one, 
1 60 & diuers spices lay 7 therby, 



gets ready 
a charcoal 
fire, 

wine 

and spices, 



Pen, Inke, & paper, shee 8 wanted none, 
& 9 hadd all things there ffull readye, 
& sett her selfe vpon a stone 
164 without 10 any companye. 



[page 407] pen and 
paper, 



shee tooke a booke in her hande, 

& ! 1 did read of prophecye, 
how shee shold bee Queene of 12 England, 
168 but many a guiltelesse man first must dye ; 



and reads 
her book of 
prophecy, 



1 carpc. — Harl. 

2 thou. — Harl. 

3 fire, vide infra. — P. 

* With no chimney in the room, tho 
wood smoke would make their eyea 
smart. See Pref. to Babees Book, p. lxiv. 



1, 306 below, and 1. 159; also Babccs 
Book, p. 325, 1. 792.— F. 

" mayden was there nye. — Harl. 

7 dyvers spices did lye. — Harl. 

8 there.— Harl. 
shee.— Harl. 

10 withouten.— Harl. 



cups. See ' a pcece of wine,' p. 333, " and there.— Harl. 



in. 



-Hi 



328 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



till Lord 
Derby conies 
at 9 at 
night. 



172 



& as shee read ffurtlier, 1 shee wept. 

with 2 that came the Erie of Darbye ; 
att nine of the clocke att 3 night 

to bessyes bower Cometh hee. 



She bar? her 
door, 



shee barred the dore aboue and vnder, 
that no man shold come them nye 4 ; 
shee sett him on [a] seate [soe] 8 rich, 
176 & on another shee sett her by ; 



and gives 
him wine 
and spice. 



It works, 



shee gaue him wine, shee gaue him spice, 

sais, G "blend in, ffather, & drinke to me." 
the fire was hott, the spice itt bote, 
180 the wine itt wrought 7 wonderSullye. 



and he 
promises 
her what- 
ever she 
asks. 

She wants 
only her 
Richmond. 



then kind 8 in heat, god wott, 

then weeped the noble 9 Erie of Darbye : 
" aske now, Bessye then, 10 what thou wilt, 
184 & thy boone granted itt n shalbce." 

" Nothing," said Bessye, " I wold haue, 

neither of gold nor yett of flee, 
but flaire 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 
hud a clerk 
he could 
trust to 
write for 
him. 



" Alas, Bessye! that 12 noble Lord 

& thy boone, ffbrsooth, grant wold I thee ; 
but there is no clarke that I dare 13 trust 
192 this night to write flbr thee and mee, 



1 faster. — Hail. 

2 And with. — Harl. 

3 within the. — Harl. 

4 nee. — Harl. 

5 a seate soe. — Harl, 

6 Said.— Harl. 

1 wronehte. — Harl. 



8 full kynde.— Harl. 

8 waxed the oulde.— Harl. 

10 Harl. omits then. — F. 

11 And nowe thy boune grauntcd.- 
Ilarl. 

''- said that.— P. said that.— Harl. 
13 doe.— Harl. 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



329 



9G 



" because our matter is soe hye, 
lest any man wold vs bewray." 

Besste said, " ffather, itt shall not neede ; 
I am a clarke ffull good, I say." 



Bessye says 
she'll be 
clerk, 



sbee drew a paper vpon her knee, 

pen and Inke shee had full readye, 
hands white & ffingars long ; 
200 shee dressed her to write ' speedylye. 



and gets her 
paper, &c. 

ready. 



" ffather Stanley, now let me see, 
ffor euery word write shall I." 
" Besste, make a letter to the Holt 
204 there 2 my brother Sir William doth Lye ; 

" bidd him bring 7 sad yeomen, 

all in greene clothes lett them bee, 
& change his Inn in euery towne 
208 where before hee was wont to Lye ; 



Lord Derby 
dictates a 
letter to Sir 
William 
Stanley, 

telling him 
to come to 
him 



" & lett his fface be towards the benche, 3 

lest any man shold him espye ; 
& by the 3 d . day of May 
212 that he come and speake with mee. 



by May 3. 



" Conrmend me to my Sonne Geoi'ge, 

the hord strange, where he doth lye, 
& bidd him bring 7 sadd yeomen ; 
21G all in greene clothes lett them bee, 



He dictates 
another 
letter to his 
son George, 
bidding him 
also come 



" & lett himselfe be in the same suite, 
& change 4 his Inn in euery towne, 
& lett his backe be ffroe the benche, 
220 Lest any man shold him knowne ; 



1 wryte full.— Harl. 

2 whereas.— Harl, 



3 ? meaning. — F. 
* ehaiimnii<r. — Harl. 



330 

by May 3. 



Another to 
his son 
Edward, 



bidding him 
to come by 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



May 3. 



Another to 
Sir J. 

Savage and 
Sir G. 

Talbot, 



bidding 
them to 
come by 
May 3. 



Lord Derby 

seals the 
letters, 



but then he 
has no 
messenger 
that he can 
trust. 



224 



"& by the 31 day of May 

bidd him come & speake with mee. 
Commend me to Edward my sonne, 

the warden l & hee togetherr bee, 



"& bidd them bring 7 sadd yeomen, 

& all in greene lett them bee, 
changing their Inn in euery towne 
228 where before 2 they were wont to Lye ; 

" lett their backes be ffrom the bench, 

lest any man shold them see ; 
& by the 3? day of May 
232 bidd them come & speake with mee. 

Comend me to Sir Iohn Sanage 

& Sir Gilbert Talbott in the north cnntrye, 
& [let] either of them [bring] 3 7 sad yeomen, 
236 and all in greene lett them bee, 

" Changing their Inn in euery towne [page4SG] 

before where they were wont to bee ; 

6 by the 3 d . day of May 

240 lett 4 them come & speake with me." 

Bessye writeth, the Lord he sealeth ; 

" ffather Stanley, what will yee more ? " 
" alas ! " sayd that royall Lord, 
244 " all our worke is 5 fforlore ! 

" ffor there is noe messenger that 6 wee may trust 
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 bjd them bryngo eyther of them. 
-Harl. 



1 byd.— Harl. 5 yt is.— Harl. 

6 whom. — Harl. 

7 The Folio transposes these two lines. 
Harl. has them as lure printed. — F. 



LADYE BESSITE. 331 

" Humphrey Bretton, 1 " said litle Bessye, Bessye says 

Humphrey 

he hath beene true to my father & mee, Bretton 

will take 
hee shall haue the writting 2 in hand, the letters. 

252 & bring them into the North cuntrye. 

" goe to thy becld, ffather, & sleepe, 

& I shall worke 3 ffor thee & mee, 
to-Morrow by rising of the sunn 
256 Humphrey Bretton shall be -vn'th thee." 

shee brought the Lo rcl to 4 his bedd, she takes 

all that night where he shold Lye ; to bed," 

& Bessye worketh 5 all the night ; 
260 there came no sleepe in her eye. 



[Part II.] G 

[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 £one is shee 7 ; g° es *° 

1 J ° Humphrey 

264 but when shee came to Humphreys bower, 

w/th a small voice called shee. and calls 

him. 

Humphrey answered that Lady bright, 
& saith, "lady, who are yee He asks who 

268 that calleth on me ere 8 itt be light ? " 

" I am Kmg Edwards daughter, « King 

Edward's 

the countesse cleere, young Bessye : daughter, 

Lady Cleere, 

m all the hast thou 9 can, come to 

i ■ i i T-i i p -r\ i )> Lord Derby." 

272 thou must come speake with the Lrle of Darbye. 

1 Breerton. — Harl. & so throughout. 5 waketh.— Harl. 

2 writynges.— Harl. 6 The 2 d P'« Query.— P. 

3 wake. Harl. 7 alleys. — Harl. 

1 unto.— Harl. 8 y or- Harl. '■> that thou.— Harl. 



332 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



Humphrey 
goes with 
her 



to Lord 
Derby, 



who gives 
him the 6 
letters. 



Bessye 



promises to 
reward him 
when she's 
Queen, 



and tells 
him to avoid 
bad 
company, 



Humphrey cast vpon [him] * a gowne, 

a paire of slippers on 2 his ffeete. 
for[th] of [his] Chamber 3 then he came, 
276 & went 4 with, that Lady sweet. 

shee brought him to the bed side 

where they Jjord lay in bed to sleepe. 
when they 5 Erie did Humphrey see, 
280 full tenderlye can hee 6 weepe, 

& 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 shold 9 bee." 

he receiued the letterrs sixe ; 

into the west wend l0 wold hee. 
then meeteth him that Ladye bright, 
292 she said, "abide, Humphray, & speake with mee. 

" a poore reward I shall thee giue, 

itt shall be but pounds three ; 
if I be Queene, & may Hue, 
296 better rewarded shaft 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.- — Hail. 

2 upon. — Harl. 

3 forth of his Chamh r — P. forthe of 
his chamber. — Harl. 

4 went forthe. — liar]. 

5 the.— Harl. 



6 then can. — Harl. 

7 MS. hamd.— F. thyno hande. 
Harl. 

" the.— Harl. 
9 levered shall.— HarL 
10 wjnde. - Harl. 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



333 



304 



" sitt not too long drinking thy ' wine, 
lest in heat 2 thou be too merrrye ; 

such words you 3 may cast out then, 
to-morrow 4 fforthought 5 itt 6 may bee.' 



and not sit 
too long 
over his 
wine. 



Humphray of 7 Bessye recekied noble[s] nine 8 ; 

With a peece of wine shee cold him assay ; 
hee tooke leaue of that Ladye sheene, 
308 & straight to the holt he took h[i]s 9 way. 



She gives 

him nine 

nobles, 

and a cup of 

wine, 

and he rides 
oft" to 



when Sir william Stanley did him see, 

he said to him with words free, 
" Humphrey Brettom, what maketh thee 10 hccre, 
312 that hither dost ryde soe hastily e ? 



Sir w. 

Stanley, 



" How [fareth] n that Lore?, my brother dcare, who asks 

That lately was made the Erie of darby, [page4(>9] Lord Derb y. 
is he dead without letting, 
316 or with ~K!ng Richard his counsell 12 is hee? 



" Or he be suspected without 13 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 H soe hastilye." 
"breake that letter," 15 said Humphrey then ; 
324 "behold then, and you shall see." 1G 



Humphrey 
hands him 

the Earl's 
letter. 



1 the— Hiirl. 

2 harte.— Harl. 

3 thou.— Hurl. 

* the other morrowe. — Harl. 
8 for thought. — P. repented of.— F. 
6 Harl. omits itt. — F. 
' at.— Harl. 

8 rec"? nobles nine. — P. nowbles. — 
Harl. 



the.— Ilarl. 

thou. — Harl. 

fareth.— Harl. How doth that.— P. 

what eensayte. — Harl. 

withouten.-- Harl. 
11 hither rydeth.- -Harl. 
'' lu-eake letter. Harl. 
18 Behoulde, sir, and yee may see. — 
Ilarl. 



10 

u 

12 
13 



334 



LA.DYE BESSIYE. 



Sir William 
bites his 
stick, 



gives 

Humphrey 

100*., 



when the Knight Looked the Letter l on, 

he stood still in a studdiinge : 
answer to Humphrey gaue he none, 
328 but still hee gnew 2 on his staffe end. 

he plucket the letter in peeces three, 
into the water he cold itt fflinge 3 : 
"hane heere, Humphrey," said the Knight, 
332 " I will eriue thee a 100 shillinge : 



tells him to 
go to sleep, 



and he'll lend 
him a fresh 
horse. 

Humphrey 
rests two 
hours, 



rides to 
Latham , 

and reaches 
it at nine. 



The porter 



" thou shalt not tarry heere all night, 
straight to Latham ryd shall yee." 
" alas," sais Humphrey, " I may not ryde, 
336 my liorsse is tyred, as ye may see ; 

" 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 ; 

" a ffresh horsse I thee behett, 

shall bring [thee] through the north countrye." 
4 Humphray slept but bowers 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 bee, 

& att 9 of Clocke in 5 the night, 

att Latham gates 6 knocketh hee. 
the Porter ariseth 7 anon-right, 
352 & answerd 8 Humphray With words ffrcc, 



1 the latter looked. — Harl. 

2 gnevc. — Harl. gnawed. — F. 

3 slynge. — Harl. 

1 The Folio wrongly transposes lines 
343 <& 347, 344 & 348. Harl. has them 



right, as printed here. — F. 

4 At nyno of the clocke within. — Harl. 

6 yates. — Harl. 

7 ryseth. — Harl. 

8 answereth. — Harl. 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



335 



356 



" In good ffaith, itt is to Late 

to call on me this time of the night." 
" I pray the, porter, open the gate, 

& lett me in anon-right ; 



" with the hord strange I must speake, 
from his ffather, the Erie of Darbye." 
the porter opened vp the gates, 
360 & in came his horsse and hee. 



lets him in, 



the best wine that was therin, 

to Humphrey Bretton fforth brought hee, 
w/th torches burning in that tyde, 
364 & other lights that he might see, 



& brought him to ' the bed syde 
wheras the hord strange Lay. 
the hord he mused in that tyde, 
368 & sayd, " Humphrey, what hast thou to say ? 



and takes 
him to Lord 
Strange in 
bed. 



" how ffareth my ffather, that noble hord ? 

in all England he hath no peere. 2 " 
Humphrey tooke a letter in his hand, 
372 & said, " behold & yee may see. 3 " 



Humphrey 
gives him 
his letter, 



376 



when they hord strange looked the letter vpon, 
the teares trickled downe his eye ; 

he sayd, " wee must vnder a cloude, 4 
for wee may 5 neuer trusted bee ; 

wee may sigh 6 & make great moanc ; 
this world is not as itt slioldbee. 



' downc iin to. — Harl. 
- no pcere hath ho (to rhyme with 
■hat follows). — Dyce. 
s here. — Karl. 



* clodde. 

s music. 
1 siko — 



—Harl. 

—Harl. 
Harl. 



336 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



and he 
promises 



to keep his 
appoint- 
ment. 



" comend nie to my father dcere, 
380 his daylye blessing he wold l giue rne 
for & I Hue another yeere, 

this appontment keepe will I." 



Humphrey 
rides on 
to Man- 
chester, 



sees Sir 
Edward 
Stanley and 
his brother, 



he receined gold of my hord Strange, 
384 & straight to Manchester rydeth hee ; 

And when hee came to Manchester, 

Itt was prime of the day ; [ pag e 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 ty dings 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 letterrs readylye, 5 
39G & vp they lope, & laught aloude, 



Buckingham 
shall be 
revenged, 



And saith, 6 " ffaire nail our ffather that noble Lord 

to stirre and rise beginneth hee ; 
Buckingham^ blood shall be roken, 7 
400 that was beheaded 8 att Salsburye. 



and Bessy's 



love brought 
over ihe sea. 



404 



" ffaire ffall the Countesse, the Kings daughter, 

that good 9 Counccll giue cold shoe ; 
wee trust in god fFull 10 of might 



to bring her Lord ouer the sea ! 



1 wolde. — Hiirl. 

3 thythandes. — Hurl. 



2 The— Ilarl. 



4 He tooke eyther 
handes. — Ilarl. 

5 radlye. — Harl. 



a letter in their 



B said.— Harl. 

7 wroken. — Harl. 

8 headed.— Harl. 
s such. — Harl. 

10 soo full.— Harl. 



revenged. — F. 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



337 



" Laue lieere, Humphray, of cither 40 s ; 

better rewarded shall tliou bee." 
lie tooke the gold att their hand ; 
408 to 1 Sir Iohn Sauage rydeth hee, 

& hee tooke him a letter in 2 hand, 

bade 3 him "behold, read, and see." 
& 4 when the Knight the Letter hadd, 
412 all blanked* was his blee : 

" women s witt is wonder to heare ! 

my vnckle is turned by yoitr 6 Bessye ! 
& wether itt turne to weale or woe, 7 
416 att my vnckles biddinge will I bee. 8 

" hane heere, Humphrey, 40 s . : 

better rewarded may thou bee ! 
to Sheffield Castle Looke thou ryde 
420 in all the hast that may bee." 

fforth then rydeth that gentle K.night; 

Sir Gilbert Talbott ffindeth 9 hee ; 
hee tooke him a letter in his hand, 
424 & bidd him, " reade & yee may 10 see." 

when Sir Gilbert Talbott the \ettre looked on, 

a loude laughter laughed hee : 
" ffaire ffall that Lord of hye * l renown e ! 
428 to rise and stirr 12 beginneth hee ! 

"ffaire ffall Bessye, //<<tt Countesse cleere, 

that such councell giueth trulye ! 
Comend mc to my nephew deare, 
432 the young Erie of Shrewsbyrye, 



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 



VOL. 



and to. — Harl. 


■ wayh — Harl. 


in his. — Harl. 


H I will.— Harl. 


ami bail. — Harl. 


'•' then fyndeth. -Harl 


Harl. has no $. — F. 


111 be mighte.— Harl. 


then all blencked. — Harl, 


n richo.— Harl. 


you.— Harl. 

in. 


'-' si irre and ryse nowe, 
z 



Harl. 



338 



LADYE KESS1YE. 



that he'll 
set Lord 
Strange free, 



436 



" bidd him neuer dread for no death, 
In London Towre if hee bee ; 

I shall make London tremble & qnake 
but my nephew borrowed shalbee ! 



bring 
Richmond 
to England, 



44'» 



" Comend me to that Conntesse cleere, 
K.ing Edwards daughter, young Bessye ; 

tell her, I trust in god that hath no peerc 
to bring her loue ouer the sea. 



" Comend me to that hord without * dread 
that latelye was made Erie 2 of darbye ; 
& 3 euery haire of my head 
444 for a man counted might bee, 



and live and 
die with 
Lord Derby. 



Humphrey 
rides back to 
London, 



and finds 
Lord Derby 
with King 
Richard. 



" wtth that Lord withouten dread, 

with him will I Hue and dye ! 
haue heere, Humphray, pounds three ; 
448 better rewarded may thou bee ! 

" Straight to London looke thou ryde 

in all the hast that may bee ; 
Comend mee to the Kmjs daughter, 4 young Bessye, 
452 King Edwards daughter forssooth is shee, 

" In all this Land shee hath no peere." 
he 5 taketh his leaue att the K.night, 
& straight to London rydeth hee. 



456 



& when he came to London right 



fi Itt was but a litle before eueni[n]ge, 

there was he ware, walking in a garden greene, 
[of] both the Erie & Richard our Kinge. 
460 when the Erie had Humphrey see[ne, 7 ] [page«l] 



1 withouten. — Harl. 

2 the Earle.— Harl. 

3 and.— Harl. 

4 to the Cowntas. — Harl. 



fl thus he.— Harl. 

8 The 3 1 . 1 Parte. Query.- 

7 seen. — P. 



LA DYE BESSIYE. 



339 



he gaue him a priuye twinke ' with his eye. Derby 

T7- • a? winks 

then Humphrey came hefore the King soe ff ree, at him, 
& downe he ffalleth vpon his knee. 
464 " welcome, Humphray ! " said the Erie of Darbye : 

'■' where hast thou beene, Humphray ? " said the Erie, and asks 

? , where lie has 

" ffor I haue mist thee weekes three. been. 

" I haue beene in the west, my Lo/v/, 
468 where I was borne and bredd trulye, 

" ffor to sport me & to play 

amonge my ffreinds ffarr & nye." 
" tell me, Humphrey," said the Erie, 
472 "how ffareth all 2 that Countryc ? 

3 tell me, Humphray, I thee pray, 

how ffareth King Richards Comunaltye ? " 

" of all Country es, I dare well say, 
476 they beene the mower 4 of archerye, 
ffor they will be trusty with their bowes, 
for 5 they will flight & neuer fllee." 

when King 'Richard heard Humphray soe say, 
480 in his hart hee was ffull merrye ; 

hee 6 with his Cappe that was soe deerc 
thanked him 7 ffull curteouslye, 

& said, " ffather Stanley, thou art to mee neere, 8 
484 you arecheeffe of jour Comynaltye, 

" lialfe of England slialbe thine, 

& equally devided bet n eene thee & mec ; 
I am thine, & thou art mine, 
4S8 & for 9 2 ffellowes will wee bee. 



"Amusing 
mysel f 
among my 
friends." 



" How are 
King 
Richard's 
commons 
there ? " 

"They are 
the flower 
of archery, 
will fight, 
and never 
flee." 



Richard 

is glad, 



and promises 



Lord Derby 

hall' 

England, 



1 twyncke.— Harl the base of (with 

k/c.—F. 

■ all in.— liar!. 

3 The Folio wrongly puts lines 473— t 
after line 178. Their position is alti n •! 
here on tlio authority of the Earleian 
MS.— F. 



4 cheefe.— Harl, 

8 And —Harl. 

" Harl. transfers hi' lo the next line. 

— F. 

7 thai lorde. -H. 

8 leere : for neere t with half the w left 
out.— F. " soe.— Harl. 



z2 



340 



LADYE BESyiYE. 



for no one is 
like him. 



49-1 



" I sweare by Marry, maid * mild, 
I know none such vnder the skye ! 

whilest I am 2 K.ing & weare the Crowne, 
I will be cheeffe of the poore 3 Comynaltye. 



And he, 
Richard, will 

never tax 
the com- 
mons, 



" tax nay mise 4 I will make none, 
in noe Cuntry ffarr nor neare 5 ; 
ffor if by their goods I shold plucke them downe, 
496 for me they will ffaight 6 ffull ffaintcouslye. 



who are his 

dearest 

treasures. 



" There is no riches to me soe rich 

aa is the pore Comynaltye." 7 
when they had ended all their speeche, 
500 they tooke their leaue ffull gladlye, 



The King 
leaves them, 

and they go 
to Bessye's 
bower. 



& to his Bower the King is gone. 

then the Erie and 8 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 ? " 



and prays 
him to 
tell her his 
tidings, 



Into a parler they went anon, 

there was no more but hee & shee : 
" Humphray, tell mee or hence I n gone, 
512 some tydings 12 out of the west Countrye ! 



1 mayden. — Harl. 2 be. — Harl. 

3 Harl. has no poore. — F. 

'' Taske ne myse. — Harl. Tax ne 
levies qu. — P. For mise, expence, dis- 
bursement, money layed out, or the 
laying out of money. Cotgrave. — F. 

6 nye. — Dyce. 

6 fight, qu. — P. woulde fyghte. — 
Harl. 

7 These sentiments may show who the 
Ballad-writer's audience were, and thai he 



looked to please them rather than engage 
their sympathy on Richmond's side. 
Had his words represented the King's 
real feolings, no doubt Richard would 
have kept his crown. — F. 

8 MS. of.— F. and.— P. and.- Harl. 

there has been altered into they in 
the MS.— F. 

10 Harl. omits Anon. — F. 

11 I hence. — Sari. 

'- tythandee.— Harl. 



LADYE BESSIYE. 



341 



" If I sliold send ffor yonder Prince 
to come oner ffor the Loue of mee, 
and murthered amongst ! his ffoes to bee, 
5 1 6 alas, that were ffull great pittye ! 

" fforsooth, that sight I wold not see 

for all the gold in Christentye ! 
tell me, Humphray, I thee pray, 
520 how Last thou done in the west countrye." 

vnto Bessye anon he told 

how hee had sped in the west countrye, 
what was the answers of them hee 2 had, 

524 & what rewards hee had trulye : 

" By the third day of May, Bessye," he saycl, 

" In London there will they bee; 
thou shalt in England be a Queene, 

525 or else doubtlesse they will dye." 



so that she 
may not 
mislead her 
lover. 



Humphrey 
tells hef England. 



His crown 
is hewed off 
him, 

and his 
helmet 
dashed into 
his head, 

and he is 
carried to 
Leicester. 



Bessye 



'' I pray yon, my mcr, be not away, [page 479] 

1032 ffor like a man ffree ! will I dye ! 
flbr I had leuer dye this day, 

the[n] - with the Stanleys taken bee ! " 

a Knight to King Richard can say, 3 
1036 good 4 Sir william of harrington, 
he saith, " wee are like all heere 
to the death soone to be done ; — 

" there may no man their strokes abyde, 
1040 the Stanleys dints they beene soe stronge ; — 
yee may come in another time ; 

therfore methinke yee tarry too longe ; 

" jour horsse is ready att your hand, 

1044 another day yon may yowr 5 worshipp win, 
22 & to raigne with royaltye, 

& weare jour 6 crowne & be onr King," 

" gine 7 me my battell axe in my hand, 

1045 & sett my crowne on 8 my head so hye ! 
ffor by him that made both sunn & moone, 

King of England this day I will 9 dye ! " 

besides l0 . his head the hewed the crowne, 
1052 & dange on him as they were wood ; 

the stroke his Basnett to his head 

vntili his braines came out w/th blood. 

the carry ed him naked vnto n Leicester, 
1056 & bnckeled his haire vnder his chin. 
Bessye mett him with 12 merry cheere ; 
these were they words shee sayd to him : 



1 here. — Harl. 

2 then.— Harl. 

s Vid. Pag. 442, St. 74 & sequentes 
[of MS.; p. 256, 1. 585 here].— P. 

4 yt was gude. — Harl. 

5 yeo maye. — Harl. 8 tho. — Harl. 



7 He said, give. — Harl. 

8 Sett the crowne of England upon. 
—Harl. 

9 will I.— Harl. 
10 Besyde.— Harl. 

" into. — Harl. 12 with a. — Harl. 



LADYE BE^SIYE. 



363 



" how likest thou they slaying of my brethren 
twaine ? " ' 
1060 shee spake these words to him alowde 2 : 
" now are wee wroken vppon thee heere ! 
welcome, gentle vnckle, home ! " 



taunts his 
corpse, 



welcomes 
Lord Derby. 



great solace itt was to see, 
1064 I tell you, masters, w/thout lett, 
when they red rose of Mickle price 
& our Bessye 3 were mett. 



The Red 
Rose and 
White meet, 



a Bishopp them marryed w/th a ringe, 
1068 they 4 2 bloods of hye renowne. 
Bessye sayd, "now may wee sing, 
wee tow bloods are made all one." 



and are 
married. 



the Erie of Darbye he was there, 
1072 & Sir william Stanley a man of might ; 

vpon 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 ruder a cloud, 
1076 that sometime in England was fifull 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, 
saue & keepe our comelye King 8 
& 9 the poore cominaltye ! 

ffinis. 



God save 



our King 
and tic 
Commons ! 



1 the sleaying of my brethren dere. — 
HarL 

2 alon. Earl. 

3 yonge Bessie togeder. — Karl. 

4 the. Earl. 

'■> Sir William Stanley. Seel,812.— F. 



8 MS. hight. Read high, pronounced 
lice. — Dyce. 

7 a.— Ilarl. 

s queene. — Earl. 

9 and also. — Harl. 



364 



Sire foomen ffatre* 1 

" A very 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 [sweete 2 ] they 

be too ; 
most ffaire & sweete to them that only loue them ; 
chast & discreet to all sane those that prone them. 



not wise, 



" Are women wise ? " not wise ; but they be wittye. 
" are women wittye ? " yea, the more the pittye ; 
they are soe wittye, & in witt soe whylye, 3 



but so witty, 
they beguile 

you; 8 that be you neare soe wise, they will beguile ye 



not fools, 
but fond, 



and never 
stable ; 



not devils, 



but very 
like them ; 
needful 
evils. 



" are women ffooles ? " not ffooles, but ffondlings 

many. 
" can women ffound 4 be ffathfull vnto any ? " 
when snow-white swans doe turne to colour sable, 
12 then women ffond 5 will both be ffirme & stable. 

" Are women Saints ? " no saints, nor yett no diuells. 
" are women good ? " not good, but needfull euills ; 
soe Angell-like, that diuells I doe not doubt them ; 
16 soe needffull euills, that ffew can Hue wt'th-out them. 



1 a satire on Womon. A very im- 
perfect Copy of this Song is in Pepys 
Merrini'.', 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 

"Arc women proud?" I! passing proud, & praise l Proudthey 

them. 
" are women kind?" I! wonderous kind, & 2 please and kind 

when they 

them, lik0 10 be i 

or soe imperyous, 3 no man can endure tliem, 
20 or soe kind-karted, any may procure tkem. ffinis. often too 

kind. 

1 praisinge was first written in the hand. — F. 2 an't, if it. — F. 

MS., hut the inge has heen crossed out, 3 MSv imperious. — F. 

and an c written above it by a later 



[" I Dreamed my Loue" printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 102, 
follows here in the MS. page 480.] 



366 



(3 : Catrilm* 1 

The author of The Treaty se of Fysshynge ivyth 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 dis- 
port es 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 blowyth 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 l loue it, I dare not reporte. Thus truly me 
semy th 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 fawkener leseth his hawkes as the 
hunter his houndes. 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 Rye : the Cray : and many 

1 A Curious Old Song in praise of mouth. See " Medicyne for the Frounce" 
Falconry. — P. in ReliquicB Antigua, 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,' 

:l look. H). i. 295. (The Booke of Hawky rig, after 

4 The Fronse is a sore in a hawk's Prince Edwarde, Kyng of Englande.) — F. 



A CAUILERE. 3G7 

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 tycle in the dewe he is weete 
shode unto his taylle. Many other suche I cowde tell : but drede of 
magre 2 makith me for to leue. Thus me semyth that kuntynge 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 y e 
sa}'d parable of Salamon : % Dowteles then»e folowyth it that it must 
necles 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 
fayllc of one he maye not faylle of a nother, yf he dooth as this 
treatyse techy th, but yf there be nought in the water. And yet atte 
the leestlie 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 
Bwannes: 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 mericr than he is in his spyryte. ^[ Also who soo woll 
vse the game of anglynge : he must ryse erl y, whiche thyng is prouffj ( - 
able to man in tliis wyse, That is to wytc : moost to the hcele 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 ? dcatli. ' Dead as a fowl at souse,' 278). ' To leape or seaze greedily upon, 

i. e . a t the stroke of another bird de- to sou i doune as a hauke.' Florio,p.48, 

scending violently ou it. So explained ed. 1611. Balliwelh— F. 

Ly Mr. Dyce {Beaumont $ Fletcher, vii. a Fr. mafgri, illwill.— F. 



368 A CAUILERE. 

goodys. For it shall make hym ryche. As the olde englysshe pro- 
uerbe sayth in this wyse. ^[ who soo woll ryse erly shall be holy 
helthy and zely. 1 ^[ Thus have I prouyd in myn entent that the 
dysporte and game of anglynge is the very meane and cause that 
enducith a man in to a mery spyryte : Whyche, after the sayde parable 
of Salomon and the sayd doctryne of phisyk, makyth a flourynge aege 
and a longe. And therefore to al you that ben vertuous : gentyll : 
and free borne, I wryte and make this symple treatyse folowynge : 
by whyche ye may haue the full crafte of anglynge to dysport you at 
your luste : to the entent that your aege maye the more floure 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 ]'e 
plou mon " why knights should hawk : 

fecche J>e hom Faueuns ■ \>e Foules to quelle, 
For pei comen in-to my croft • And Croppen my Whete. 
(William's Vision of Piers Plowman, Pass. vn. p. 76, 1. 34-5, eel. 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, 

Far 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. sdliff, happy, lucky, blessod, prosperous. Bosworth. — F. 



A CAUILERE. 369 

question: be knows that he loves his sport; its toils are his plea- 
sures, its danger his business to beat ; his horse, his dog — in old 
time, his hawk — is his friend. What matters the chance of a fall, 
when you feel } 7 our horse going under you, and hear 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 out- 
door life. Of the poem itself we know no other copy. — F. 



oOME : in their traine, & some in their game, some delight 

in gain, 

doe sett their whole delight ; others 

in adorning 

they[r] time * some doe passe with a comb & a glasse, themselves, 
4 to be loned in their mistresse sight ; 

Some loue the chace, & some loue the race others in 

hunting the 

of the hare & of the ffearffull deere ; hare ; 

but the brauest delight is the ffawcon in her ffligh[t], but the 

falcon's 

8 when shee stoopes with a camleere. flight beats 

all. 

ffor shee will moue iust like a doue ; 

when once her game shee doth ffind, 
shee clipps itt amaine, shee strikes itt a plane, she flies at 

her game 

12 but seemes 2 to outstripp the wind. like the 

wind ; 

shee fflyeth att once her marke Iumpe 3 vpon, she soara 

& mounteth the we[l]kin 4 cleere ; 
then right shee stoopes, when the ffalkner hcc whoopes, 
16 triumphing in her cauileere. 



1 their time. — P. And bring him iumpc, when lie may 

- MS. seenes. — F. Cassio find 

3 He sel her on my selfe, a while, to Soliciting his wife. — Othello, Actus Se- 

draw the Moor apart . cundus, Sccna Secunda. — F. 

1 welkin. — P. 

vol. in. n B 



370 



A CAUILERE. 



and makes 
the clouds 
her quarry. 



She stoops, 



In a moments space sliee will better place l 
as though shee did disdaine to carrye 2 ; 
the earth is soe 3 neere, shee mounteth the sphere, 
20 & maketh the clouds her quarrey, 4 

till the ffawkner quite now hath Lost her sight, 

& her bells no longer can heare ; 
then listening 5 to a starr, he espyes her affarr, 
24 come stooping with a cauileere. 



and her 

master 
rushes 
through 



thorn and 
wood to 
meet her 

with a 

ringing 

cheer. 



Then comes he in, through thicke, through thin, 

as nothing can his passage stay ; 
his paines doth him please, his pleasure doth him ease, 
28 through studds, 6 through woods, is his way. 

he fforceth not 7 to sweat, though breathles with heat, 

but with a resounding Cheare 
he reacheth fforth his throte, & whoopeth fforth his 
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 his houres doth imploye ; 
the brooke & the ffeild him pleasure doth yccld ; 
36 theres nothing interrupts his ioye. 

his paines doth him please when he sleepeth att case ; 

but this ffawcon, when day doth appeare, 
her bells are his Chimes when he riseth betimes 
40 triumphing in her Cauileere. 

ffinis. 



1 pace, or her place. — P. 

2 tarry. — P. 
8 too.— P. 

4 ? MS. qurwey.— F. 

6 lessen 8 , or less'} query. — P. 

6 Lin. 4. perhaps stubbs, i. e. short 



stumps of cut underwood, 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 consequonce. — F. 



371 



This 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 and 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 Eng- 
land," says Mr. Knight, " 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, we 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 

n B 2 



372 



A TROrECYE. 



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 hut 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, 



12 



16 



20 



A. : Prince out of the north shall come, 

King borne, named babe ; his brest vpon, 

a Lyon rampant strong to see, 

and IIS 1 Icclippedd hee : 

borne in a country rude & stony e, 2 

yett hee couragyous, wise, & holy ; 

att best of strenght, his ffortunes best 

he shall receiue, & therin rest, 

coach as a Lyon in the den, 

& lye in peace soe long till men 

shall wonder, & all christendome 

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 

by enemyes beyond the sea. 

but when in wrath he drawes his sword, 4 

woe that the sleeping Lyon stured ! 

ffor ere he sheath the same againe, 

he puts his foes to mickle paine. 



[page 481] 



1 James Stuart. The I before J. S. may 
bo a c : the two letters are often exactly 
alike.— F. 

2 Scotland.— F. 

3 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 griev- 
ances were redressed. — F. 

4 ? referring to the 4000 volunteers 
whom he sent to defend the Palatinate 
in 1620.— F. 



A PROPECYE. 



373 



& vallyant actes he shall then doe, 
great Alexanders ffame cmtgoe : 
he passeth seas, & ffame doth winn, 

24 & many princes ioyne with him, 
& chuse him ffbr their gouemor, 
& crowne him westerne Emperour ; l 
after a while he shal he-girt 

28 that cittye ancyent and great 
-which, vpon 7 hills scituate, 
till hee her all haue ruinate, 
then shall a ffbe ffrom east appeare, 

32 the brinkes of one great riuer neere ; 
this Lyon rampant him shall meete ; 
& iff on this side hee shall flight, 
the day is Lost : but hee shall crosse 

36 this riuer great, & being past, 

shall in the strenght of his great god, 
into his ffbes 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 ffbe in ffury burne, 

44 & ffrom the East in hast return e — 
with aid of KmgB & princes great — 
to the valley of Iehosaphatt : 
then shall hee meete the Lyon stronge, 

48 who in a battell ffeirce & longe 

si mil ffbyle his ffbe. then cruell death 
shall take away his aged breath. {finis. 



outdoing 
Alexander's 

fame, 



and being 

crowned 

Western 

Emperor. 

Then he 

shal] 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 
title of " King of Great Britain, France, 
and Ireland," on Oct. 24, 1604 ; but on 



his medals lie assumed the title of 
Im/perator, — F. 
- ? one.— F. 



374 



This ballad occurs in the Roxburghe Collection (reprinted in 
Collier's Book 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." 



Maudlin, a 
Bristol 

merchant's 
daughter, 



is loved by i 
neighbour- 
youth, 



but her 
friends 



[The first Fitt.] 

JjEHOLD : the touchstone of true lone, 

Maudlin, the Merchants daughter of Bristow 2 towne, 
whose ffirme affection nought 3 cold moue ! 

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, 

but all her ffreinds withstoode itt still. 



1 In the printed Collection of Old 
Ballads, l'2 m °, vol. 3, p. 201. N. 37.— P. 
In two Fitts;— P. 



2 Bristol.— O.B. 

4 Her.— O.B. 

5 O.li. omit s time. — F 



3 nothing. —O.B. 



MADDLINE. 



375 



the young man now perceiuing well 

lie cold not gett nor winn ] the fauor of her ffreinds, 
the fforce of sorrow to expell, 
12 to 2 vew 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, 
1 6 he playes vnder her windowe then : 

" farwell," quoth he, "my owne true Loue ! 

" ffarwell," quoth he, " the cheeffest tres[ure of my 
Heart] 5 
Tliroughe ffortunes 6 spite, that ffalse did proue, [page 482] 
20 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, 
24 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, 
28 to welcome [whom] u alone my heart I vow." 
with trickling 12 teares this did hee singe ; 

with 13 sighes & sobbs discendinge from his hart full 
sor[e], 
he said, when hee his hands did wringe, 
32 " ffarwell, sweet loue, ffor euer-more ! " 
ffaire Maud line from a window hye 

beholding u her true loue with Musicke where he 
sto[ode], 



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 fare- 
well. 



1 vnm in the MS. O.B. omits nor 
winn. — F. 

* And.— OJB. 

3 his fair and.— O.B. 

* Musick sweet. — O.I!. 

5 MS. pared away: the., heart read 
by tin- help of, or supplii d from < >ld 

Ballads, which ninils OUOth he. — F. 

8 ? 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. 
w tickling.— O.B. 

13 O.B. omits with.— F. 
11 See— O.B. 



376 



MAUDLINE. 



She dares not 
answer him, 



but weeps 
all night, 



but not a word shee durst l replye, 
36 Searing her parents angry inoode. 

in teares sliee spends this 2 woefull night, 

wishing her 3 (though naked) with her ffaithfull 
ffrein[d]. 
shee blames her ffriends & ffortunes spight 
40 that wrought their 4 Loue such Luckless end; 
& in her hart shee made a vowe, 

cleane to fforsake her country & her kinsfolkes 5 all, 
& ffor to ffollow her true loue 
44 to bide what 6 chance that might beffall. 
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 blaster amongst them all, — 

the master of a gallant 8 shipp was hee, — 
w r h !ch there stood 9 waiting in the hall 
52 to speake with her ffather, if itt might bee. 
shee kindly takes him by the hand ; 

"good Sir," she said, 10 "wold yee speake with any 
heere ? " 
qiioth. hee, " ffaire mayd, therfore I n stand." 
him into 56 " then, gentle Sir, I pray you come 12 neere 

a parlour, Into a pleasant parlour by." 

with 13 hand in hand shee brings the seaman all alone ; 
sighing to him most pyteouslye, 
6'.) shee thus to him did make her moane ; 



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 



1 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 fiat on their 
backs, one does not feel compelled to 
accept the illuminators' authority for the 



nakedness any more than the crowns. 
— F. 4 her.— O.B. 

4 ? MS. kinffolkes.— F. 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. 
B Who there was.— O.B. 
said she. — O.B. 
and therefore I do. — O.B. 
I pray draw. — O.B. 
( I.B. omits with. — F. 



10 

u 

12 



MAUDLINE. 



3*"7 



shee falls vpon her tender l knee, 

"good Str," shee said, "now pitty yee a womans 



case, 



& proue a ffaithffull freind to mee, 
64 that I to you my greeffe may show ! " 
" sith you repose yo«r trust," hee sayd, 

" to me that am vnknowne, 3 & eke a stranger heere, 
be you assured, proper 4 maid, 
68 most fiaithfull still I will appeare." 
" I haue a brother," then q?toth shee, 

" whom as my liffe I 6 ffauor tenderlye. 
In Padua, alas ! is hee ; 
72 ff'ull sicke, god wott, & like to dye ; 
& 6 ffaine I wold my brother see, 

but that my father will not yeeld to let me goe. 
therfore, good S/r, bee good 7 to mee, 
76 & vnto me this ffauor show. 

some shippboyes garments bring to me, 

that I disguised may goe away ffrom hence 8 vn- 
knowne, 
& vnto sea He goe with thee 
80 if thus much ffreindshipp may 9 be showne." 
" ffaire mayd," quoth hee, " take heere my hand ; 

I will ffultill eche thing that you now doe 10 desire, 
& sett n you saffe in that same Land, 
84 & in that place where 12 you require ! " 
slice gaue him 13 then a tender kisse, 

& saith, "yoitr servant, gallant Master, will I bee, 14 
& proue jour ffaith-full ffreind ffor this. 
88 sweet ~Mn.<tcr, iforgett 15 not mee ! " 



falls on her 
knees to 
him, 
prays him 



to hear her 
troubles, 



and then 
tells him 
that her 
brother is 
dying in 
Padua, 



and her 
father won't 
let her go to 
him. 



" Bring 
me some 
shipboy's 
clot hes, 



and let mc 
go with 
you." 

The seaman 

promises to 
do all she 
wants. 



She kisses 
him and says 

she'll be his 
friend. 



1 l.rlldcd.— O.B. 

2 (said she) pity a Woman's Woe. — 
O.B. 

3 In Mir unknown. — O.B. 
* mOSl 1 ii-;iut i-ous. - -O.B. 
5 I love and.— O.B. 

8 Full.— O.I I. 7 kind.— O.B. 

8 O.IJ. umiis away from, hence. F, 



9 Favour might. — O.B. 

10 O.B. omits now doc. — F. 

" -tc— O.B. 

12 the Place that.— O.B. 

1:1 to him.— O.B. 

14 said, Your Servant, Master, I will 
bo.— O.B. 

'' (hen forgot.— O.B. 



378 



MADELINE. 



He brings 

her the boy's 
clothes. 
She puts 
them on, 



and goes 
with him 
before her 
father. 



[page 4S3] 

Her mother 
comes in, 
saying their 
daughter is 
gone. 



"That vile 
wretch has 
enticed her : 
we shall find 
him in |04 

Padua." 

" This youth 
is going 
there." 



The mother, 
not knowing 
her 

daughter, 
gives her 20 
crowns to 
tend home 
news of 
herself, 



this done, as they had both decreede, 1 

soone after, earlye before the 2 breake of day, 
he brings her garments then with speed, 
92 wkerin 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 
96 euen vntill 5 her ffather did him call. 
bnt ere 6 the Marchant made an end 

Of all the matter to the Master he cold saye, 7 
his wiffe came weeping in with speed, 
100 saying, " onr daughter is gone away ! " 
the marchant, much 8 amazed in minde, 

" yonder vile wretch inticed away my child 9 ! ' : 
but well I 10 wott I shall him ffind 

att Padua or in Italy e." n 
with that bespake the Master braue : 

" worshippffull Master, 12 thither goes this pretty 
youth, 13 

& any thing that you wold haue, 14 
108 he will perfforme itt, 15 & write the truth." 
" sweete youth," qwoth shee, 16 " if itt be soe, 

beare me a lettre to the English Marchants 17 there, 
& gold on thee I will bestowe ; 
112 my daughters welfare I doe ffeare." 
her mother takes 18 her by the hand : 

"faire youth," quoth, shee, " if 19 thou dost my 
daughter see, 
leitt me therof soone 20 vnderstand, 
116 & there is 20 crownes ffor thee." 



1 agreed. — O.B. 

2 after that by.— O.B. 

3 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 
that Day.— O.B. 

H then.- O.B. 

9 intie'd my Child away. — O.B. 



all 



10 I well.— O.B. 

" In Italy at Taclna.— O.B. 

12 Merchant.— O.B. 

13 this Youth.— O.B. 

11 crave. — O.B." 

,5 perform. — O.B. 
10 he.— O.B. 
17 the English.— O.B. 
19 Youth," if e'er.— O.B 
'-'" soon therrof. — O.B. 



18 took.— O.B. 



MAUDLINE. 379 

thus, through the daughters strange disguise, 

the mother knew not when shee spake vnto her 
child ; 
& l after her master straight shee hyes, and Maudlin 

1120 taking her leaue with countenance my Id. 

thus to the sea ffaire 2 Maudlin is gone goes to sea 

with her 

With her gentle master, god send them a merry master. 
wind ! 
where 3 wee a while must leaue them alone, 4 
124 till you the second fitt 5 doe ffind. 



[The Second Fitt.] 

" welcome, sweet Maudlin, ffrom the sea Maudlin and 

her master 

where bitter stormes & tempests doe rise 6 ! land in 

J the pleasant bankes of Italye 

128 [_ wee 7 may behold with morttall eyes." 

thankes, gentle master" then quoth 8 shee, She thanks 

" 9 a ffaithffull ffreind in all sorrowes hast thou 10 kindness, 

beene ! 

if ffortune once doe smile on mee, 

132 my thankffull hart shall then u be seene. 

blest be the hand that ffeeds my loue, 

blest be the place wheras his person 12 doth abydc ! 

nor 13 try all will I sticke to proue and says 

J r she'll 

13G wherby my good will I4 may be tryde. 

now will I walke with ioyffull hart walk about 

. till she finds 

to vew the towne wheras my darling 1o doth reniame, 
& seeke him out in euery part 
140 vntill I doc his sight attaine." ,6 her love. 



*e>* 



1 Then. — O.B. * There is a tag like an s at the end of 

2 sweet. — 0.15. this word. — F. 

3 ? ISIS. when. The n (or n) is ,0 in Sorrow thou hast. — O.B. 

blotted out in the MS.— F. Where.— " My gratitude shall soon. — O.B. 

O.B. '-' wherein he.— O.B. 

* all alone.— 0.1 1. " No.— O.B. 

5 Part.— O.B. " line Love.— O.B. 

8 arise. — O.I!. '* wherein lie. — O.B. 

7 You.— 0.15. 8 saiJ.— O.B. '■ Until his Sight I do obtain.— 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 Tapist. 



Maudlin 
wails, 



walks under 
the prison 
walls, 



and hears 
her lover 
bid farewell 
to England, 

friends, 



and love. 



144 



148 



152 



156 



160 



164 



iC & I," quoth hee, "will not fforsako 

Sweete Maudlin in her sorrowes vp & downe ; 
in wealth & woe, thy part He take, 

& bring thee saffe to Padua towne." 
& after many weary stepps 

In Padua the arriued saffely l att the Last : 
for verry ioy her harte itt leapes, 

shee tkinkes 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, 

in ffiery fflames he vowed to burne. 
now doth Maudlin weepe and waile, 

her ioy changed to weeping, 4 sorrow, greeffe & 
care ; 
but nothing can 5 her plaints preuaile, 

ffor death alone must be his share, 
shee walked vnder the prison walls 

where her true loue doth lye & languish 6 in distresse ; 
most 7 woefi'ullye for ffood hee calls 

when hangar did his hart oppresse ; 
he sighes, & sobbs, & makes great moane ; 

" farwell," he said, " sweete England, now 8 for eu- 



ermore 



168 



& all my ffreinds that haue me knowne 
In Bristow towne with health 9 and store ! 

but most of all, ffarwell," qwoth hee, 

" my owne true loue, 10 sweet M.&udUn, whom I left 
behind ! 

for neuer more I shall see thee. 11 
woe to thy ffather Most vnkind ! 



O.B. omits saffely. — F. 

Sorrows. — O.B. 

would to.— O.B. 

O.B. omits weeping. — F. 

For nothing could. — O.B. 

Love did languish. O.B. 



7 Then.— O.B. 

s Farewel, Sweet-heart, he cry'd. 
O.B 

9 Wealth.— O.B. 
10 O.B. omits true lone. — F. 
" thou wilt me see. — O.B. 



MAUDLINE. 381 

how well were I if tliou were ' here, 

with thy ffaire hands to close vp both these 2 wretched 
eyes ! 
my torments easyc wold appeare ; 
172 My soule with ioy shall 3 scale the skyes." [page 484] 

when Maiv7/m hard her louers moane, Maudlin 

sorrows, 

her eyes wtth teares, her hart with sorrow, feild. 4 

to speake w/th him noe meanes was knowne, 5 s^akTTer 

176 such greeuous doome on him did passe. 6 lover - 

then cast shee of 7 her Ladds attyre ; She dresses 

a maydens weede vpon her backe shee 8 seemlye sett ; girl, 

. takes service 

to 9 the iudges house shee did enquire, in the 

judge's 

180 & there shee did a service gett. house, 

shee did her duty there soe well, 

& eke soe prudently shee did lier-selfe 10 behaue, 
wt'th her in Loue her Master ffell, ? nd ho fa } l f 

' m love with 

184 his servants ffavor he doth craue : ber > 

" Mandlm" quoth, hee, " my harts delight, 
to whome my hart in affectyon is tyed, 11 
breed not my death through thy despite ! 
188 a ffaithffull ffreind I wilbe 12 tryed ; 

grant me thy loue, ffaire mayd," quoth hee, 

" & att mv hands 13 desire what thoTul canst dTel- and promises 

J L J L J her wha(; . 

Tlise 14 ever she asks 

him. 

& I will grant itt vnto thee, 
192 wherby tliy creditt may arrise." 

" I haue [a] 15 brother, Sir," shee sayd, she asks for 

" ffor his religion is now lfa condempncd to dye ; her brother, 

• 1 IT T • 1 '" I""'*"" 1 lllV 

in Lothesome prison is he 17 Laid, his belief. 

196 opprest with care 18 and misery. 

1 I were if thou wert. — O.B. In so well herself she did. — O.B. 

2 close my. — O.I5. " my Soul is so inclin'd. — 0.13. 

3 would.— O.B. ' 2 thou shall inc.— O.B. 

4 Heart Boon filled was.— 0.1!. » And then.— O.B. 

5 found.— 0.15. " ? MS. .liaise.— F. 

6 did on him pass. — O.B. 13 The a is written abovo tho line in a 

7 she put off.— O.B. later hand.— F. 

8 Her Maiden-weeds upon her. — O.B. '" O.B. omits now. — F. 

At.— O.B. I7 he is.— O.B. Is Grief.— O.B. 



382 



MAUDLINE. 



" He must 
recant or 
die ! " 

" Then let 
an English 
friar I 
know be 
sent to 
him." 



The judge 

agrees. 
Maudlin 
dresses up 
the seaman 
as a friar, 
and sends 
him with a 
letter to her 
lover. 



Her lover 
charges her 

to leave 
Italy, as 
death awaits 
her there. 



200 



2-4 



208 



212 



216 



220 



grant you * my brothers [life]," 2 slice sayd, 

" to you my liffe 3 & liking I will giue." 
" that may not be," qwoth bee, " faire mayd ; 

" except lie turne, he cannott hue." 
" an English ffryer there is," shee said, 

" of learning great, & of a passing pure 4 liffe ; 
lett him to my brother be sent, 

& hee will soone ffinish 5 the striffe." 
her ~M.aster granting 6 her request, 

the Marriner in ffryers weed 7 shee did array, 
& to her loue that lay distrest 

shee doth a letter straight 8 conuay. 
when he had read those gentle lines, 

his heauy hart was rauished with 9 ioye ; 
where now shee was, 10 ffull well hee knew. 

the ffryer Likewise was not coye, 
but did declare to him att large 

the enterprise his loue had taken in hand, 
the young man did the ffryer charge 

his loue shold straight depart the Land ; 
" here is no place for her," hee sayd, 

" but death & danger of her harmless ll liffe ; 
& testing death, 12 I was betray d, 

but 13 ffearfull fiiames must end our striffe, 
for ere I will my faith deny, 

& sweare to u ffollow my selfe damned Anti- 



christ, 



Lfi 



224 



I will 16 yeeld my body for to dye, 
& 17 Hue in heauen with the hyest." 



1 me.— O.B. 

2 Life.— O.B. 

3 And now to you my Love. — O.B. 
* passing pure of. — O.B. 

6 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. 



is. 



-O.B. 



11 But woful Death and Danger of her. 
—O.B. 

'- Professing Truth.— O.B. 

» And.— O.B. 

» MS. to to.— F. 

15 And swear myself to follow damned 
Atheist.— O.B. 

>• I'll.— O.B. 

17 To.— O.B. 



MAUDLINE. 383 

"O Sir," the gentle ffryer sayd, Tiio seaman 

■ urges him 

" for jour sweet lone reccant, & sane yowr wicked to recant. 

liffe." » 

" a woefFnll match," qwoth hee, " is made, IIe refuses. 

228 where clir[i]st is left to win 2 a wifi'e." 

when shee had wrought 3 all meanes shee might 

to saue her ffreind, & that shee saw itt 4 wold not bee, 

then of the iudge shee claimed her right Then 

232 to [dye] 5 the death as well as hee. resolves to 

. fi .. die with 

when no perswassyon wold b pj-euaile, him, 

nor change her mind in any thing that shee had 7 
sayd, 
shee was wtth him condemned to dye, 
236 and for them both one Fire was made, 8 and both 

& •> arme m arme most loynullye stake with 

these louers twaine vnto the flyer they 10 did goe. 
the marriner most ffaith-flullye 
240 was likwise n partner of their woe : 

but when the Indges vnderstood But the 

the flaith-flull ffreindshipp that 12 did in them re- 
maine, 
they saned their lines, & afterward pardon them 

and send 

244 to England sent them home 13 againe. them home 

rt ° to England. 

Now was their sorroAv turned to Ioy, 

And ffaithffull louers had now 14 their harts desire ; [page 485] 
their paines soe well they did imploy, 
248 god lfi granted that they did require ; 

& when they were 16 to England come, They get 

& in merry Bristowe arriued att the Last, Bristol. 

1 Consent thereto, and end the strife, was made. — O.B. 
—O.B. ■ Yea.— O.B. 

2 gain.— O.II. ,0 O.B. omits thcy.—F. 

3 oe'd.— O.B. " Two strokes for the first i.—F. 
« To save his Lifo yet all.— O.B. « O.B. omits that.—?, 

5 dye.— O.B. l3 back.— O.B. 

8 could.— O.B. " have.— O.B. 

7 thing she.— O.B. " The d has a tag to it.— F. 

s MS. roiii(hnined to dye. one Fire " 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 clanger they had past. 

her ffather, hee was dead, god wott, 

& eke her mother was ioyfull of ' her sight ; 

their wishes shee denyed not, 
256 but weded them with harts delight. 

her gentle "Master shee 2 desired 

to be her ffather, & att Church to giue her then. 

itt was ffulmlled as shee required, 
260 vnto 3 the ioy of all good men. ffinis. 



1 at.— O.B. 



2 he.— O.B. 



3 To.— O.B. 



38o 



Come prettg toantmn 

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. 



t'OME : pretty wanton, tell me why 
thou canst not loue as well as I ? 
sett thee downne, sett thee downe, sett thee downe, 
and thou shaft see 
4 why thus vnkind thou art to me. 

My dearest sweet, be not soe Coy, 
for thou alone art all my Ioy. 
sett thee downe &c. 
8 that itt is hye time to pittye mee. 

O gentle loue ! be not yett gone ; 
leaue me not heere distrest alone ! 
sett thee downe &c. 
12 that I delight in none but thee. 

Lett me not crye to thee in vaine ! 
Looke but vpon me once againe ! 
if a looke, if a looke, if a looke thou wilt not lend, 
1G lett but thy gentle eares attend. 

If thou doe stopp those gentle eares, 

Looke but vpon these cruell teares 

w/u'ch doe fForce me still to crye 
20 ' pittye me, sweet, or else I dye ! ' ffillis. 
vol. in. C C 



Tell me why 
yon won't 
love me. 



You alone 
are my joy. 



Go not yet ; 



look on me 
once more I 



Pity me, or 
I die. 



3&6 



fttt te a ffoollt: 1 

This piece, as Mr. Furnivall notes, was printed in the first edi- 
tion of the Reliques with the title of " The Aspiring Shepherd." 
(Cf. « The Steadfast Shepherd,' 1 « The Shepherd's Eesolntion," 
&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. 



ilEE : is a ffoole that baselye dallyes 

where eche peasant mates with him. 
shall I haunt the thronged valleys, 

hauinge noble hills to climbe ? 
no ! no ! those clownes be scared with ffrownes 

shall neuer my affectyon 2 gayne ! 
& such as you, ffond fiboles, adew, 

that 3 seeke to captiue me in vaine ! 



Give me one 
whom 
buzzards 
daren't gaze 
at, 

who needs 
effort to win. 



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 

ffor whome I will remise no payne ; 
& such as you, fond fooles, adew, 
16 that seeke to captiue me in vaine ! 



ffillis. 



1 Printed in the Beliques, iii. 253, 
( 1st ed.), with the title of " The Aspiring 
Shepherd."— F. 



2 esteeme. — Bel. 

* sun-like. — liel. 

* gaze. — P. 



' Ye.— Bel. 



387 



£u!Ia : lulla: 

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 cairn unruffled faith in him. The 
verses are but commonplace. 



15 Y : constraint if I depart, — 

sing lullabee, — 
I leaue w/th [thee] behind, my constant hart, 
placed with, thine, there lett itt rest 
till itt by death be disposest, 

sing lulla lullabee ! lone, Hue loyall till I dye. 



If forced to 
go, 



I leave my 
heart with 
thee. 



12 



doe not any wayes distrust — 

sing lullabye — 
that I shall proue inconstant or vniust. 1 
though banishment a while I try, 
yett shall affectyon neuer dye. 

[sing lulla &c. (a line pared away here)'] 



Never doubt 
my 

constancy. 



16 



If by absence I be fforcet — 

sing lullabee — 
a litle while to be deuorcet 
fFrom thee whose brest can testify e 
where my subiccts hart doth Tye, 

Lulla &c. 



[page 480] 



While 

absent from 
thee 



1 One stroke too many in tho MS. — F. 
c c 2 



388 LULLA LULLA. 

I crave only constancye is all I crane — 

constancy 20 sing lullabee ; — 

performed by thee, my wisli I haue ; 
If I to tliee vnconstant proue, 
lett death my liffe ffrom earth remoue. 
24 Lulla &c. 

ffinis. 



389 



3 %omt off Xate : ! 

Here a lover asserts and proclaims his independence. He has 
loved, and been rejected ; and here he makes np his mind to 
bear his rejection well. He gives the lady up. Let who will, 
win her ; he will not. 



A LOITER of late was I, I was lately 

r\ * n * 0Ve 

ffor Cupid wold liaue ltt soe, 
the boy that hath neuer an eye, 
4 as euery man doth know. 

I sighed, and sobbed, and cryed alas 

ffor her that laught & called me asse, 2 & called me with a girl, 

and she 
assee, called me an 

ass. 

& called me asse .*. for her that &c. 2 

8 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. 
12 yett would ["II her asse that I should bee, 5 if she'd have 

J L J ' had me, I'd 

soe shee would helpe & bcare w/th nice, c '& beare &c. likl ' lo have 
x ' been her ass. 

soe shee &c. 6 



And I were as faine 7 as shee, if we could 

have 

16 & shee were as kind 8 as I, changed 

places, 

what payre cold haue madrel 9 as wee I'd have 

1 J L J loved her. 

1 Printed in the Ihliqucs, iii. 176 5 Yet would I her asse freely o boe 

(lsted.).- V. h'rl. 

*-* Omitted in Bel— F. 6 -" Omitted in Bel.—F. 

'■' saw it. was all in. — Bel. ' An' I were as 1'aiiv. — Eel. 

* Who.— Bel. » Or shee wero as fond.— Bel. 

9 made. — P. 



390 A LOUER OFF LATE. 

soe prettye a sumpathye ? 
I was as kind ' as sliee was ffaire, 
20 but for all this wee cold not paire ; 2 we cold &c. 
wee cold not paire bat ffor all &c. 2 

But as she Paire w^th ber that will, ffor mee ! 

won't have <n 'i t hi 

me, with her 1 will neuer paire 

24 that cuningly can be coy, 
for being a litle fi'aire. 
why, let her the Asse lie leaue to ber disdane, 

scorn away. T -. n .„ in p 

I'm myself & now 1 am, ray selfe agame, d my selle &c. 



28 & now I am my selfe againe. 3 ffinis. 



1 fond.— Rel. 8 ~ 2 Omitted in Eel— F. 3 ~ 3 Omitted in Rel.—F. 



["Panders come away" printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 104, follotvs 

here in the MS. p. 486-7.] 



391 



6rtat or f) rotrtif* 

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. 



vjREAT or proud, if shee deryde mee, 
lett her goe ! I will l not dispaire ! 

ere to-morrow He prouide mee 

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. 



12 



And yett strongly will I proue her 
whome I meane to haue indeede. 

if shee constant proue, He loue her ; 
& if ffalse, lie not proceede. 

ought from mee, that may constraine 3 

my mind & reason to be twainc ! 



But before 
taking her, 
I'll prove 
her. 



1 Read lie- 

2 good. — P. 



-Dyce. 



' Away from me! what may constrain. 
Query. — P. Ought = out, interj. — R 



392 



GREAT OR RROUDE. 



No one 
should stand 
disdain. 



Any pirl 
can be 

matched by 
some o.her. 



16 



Man by reason shold be guided, 
& uot loue where hees disdaind ; 

If that once he be deryded, 
others loue may be obiained. 

hold yon not one mayd soe rare ; 

theres none that hues without compare. 



ffmis. 



[Two verses of " A Dainty Duclce" printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, 
p. 108, follow here; and the next leaf of the MS., containing the 
beginning of" The Spanish Lady" has been torn out.~\ 



393 



Pkof. 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 Kichard 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, ' 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 arti- 
cles 2 are maintained to be still in possession of the famity, and 
also a portrait of Sir John, drawn in 1 596, at the age of thirty-six, 
in which he wears the 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 of his descendant, Captain Birch. Illing- 
Spanish Lady." — F. In the printed Col- worth's Toj>u</rap//ical account of Scamp- 
led ion of Old Ballads 12"!° Vol. 2. pag. ton, with anecdotes of the family of Bolles, 
192. P. That portrait is now in the possession of 

2 Tho necklace is still extant in tho Captain Birch's successor, Thomas Iios- 
possession of a member of my family, vile liosvile, lvsip, of Ravensfield Park, 
and in the house whence I write (Cold- Yorkshire, my brother, and may be seen 
rey, Hants). Charles Lee, in The Times, by any one. Charles Lee, ///. supra. Dr. 
May 1, 1846. — F. Rimbault has reprinted Mr. Lee's letter 

8 The portrait is still in the possession in his Musical Illustrations, p. 23-4. — F. 



394 THE SPANISH LADIES LOVE. 

the Quarterly Review, Sept. 1846, Art. iii. The literary merits 
of the hall ad are also considered in the Edinburgh Review of 
April, 1846. 

" Shenstone has essayed, in his Moral Tale of Love andlionour, 
to bring out ' the Spanish Lady e and her Knight in less grovelling 
accents than the simple guise of ancient record ; ' while Words- 
worth, 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 Eowley'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 hear a Spanish Lady, 

how she woo'd an English Man ; 
Garments gay as rich may be, 

bedeckt ' 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 Ids 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 ; 
then, said this Lady gay, 1 

full woe is me, 
let me still sustain this kind 

Captivity. 

Gallant captain, take some pitty 

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, 5 
Thy fair words make * 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 light s ; 

Blessed bo the time and season 
that thou 6 came on Spanish ground ; 



If our ffoes you may 7 be termed, 

gentle ffoes wee haue you ffound ; You've won 

° " my city anil 

With our cittye 8 vou liaue woon our harts echo one ; heart too. 

•' J Take back 

4 then to your Country beare away that 9 is yoitr owne." with y° u 

1 most mild.— O.B. " you.— O.B. 

2 Remains. — O.B. ' If you may our Foes. — Rox. and 0.15. 
8 Country's Foe.— O.B. 8 City.— O.B. 

4 speech makes.— O.B. " what.— O.B. 

5 light.— O.B. 



396 



THE SPANISH LADIES LOVE. 



" Nay, Lady, 
stay in 
Spain, 
you'll find 
plenty of 
lovers 
there." 



" Hest you still, most gallant Ladye ! 

rest you still, & weepe noe more ! 
of ffaire Louers there is 1 plenty ; 

Spaine dotli yeelde a 2 wonderous store." 
" Spanyards ffraught -with ielousye wee often 3 ffind, 
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 serue 6 thee day & night, my mind is prest ; 
16 the wiffe of euery Englishman is counted blest." 



"Asa 
soldier I 
can't take 
you." 



Then I'll be 
your page. 



20 



" 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 selfe, if itt be soe, 
& like a page He 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 Ie wells euery one shalbe thy owne, 
28 & eke 500" 8 in gold that Lyes vnknowne." 



" The sea is 
full of 
danger." 



On the seas are many dangers ; 
many stormes doe there arrise, 



you have. — O.B. 



2 you.— O.B. 

3 oft do.— O.B. 

1 Th 



; uo. — y>.a. 

iou alone enjoy'st. — O.B. 



5 is likewise. — O.B. 
8 save.— O.B. 

7 Where-e'er— O.B. 

8 Ten thousand Pounds. - 



O.U. 



THE SFANLSII LADIES LOVE. 



397 



which wilbe to Ladyes dreadffull, 
32 & fforce teares ffrom watterye eyes." 
" well in worth I will endare extremhye, 1 
for I cold find my 2 hart to lose my liffe for thee." 

" curteous Ladye, leaue this ffancye. 3 
36 here comes all that bieakes 4 the striffe : 

I in England haue already 
a sweet woman to my wiffe. 

I will not ffalsifye my vow for gold nor gaine, 
40 nor yett ffor all the ffairest dames that Hue in Spaine." 

" how happy is that woman 

that enioyes soe true a ffreind ! 
many dayes of ioy god send you ! 5 
44 of my suite He 6 make an end. 

vpon 7 my knees I pardon craue for this 8 offence 
■which, loue & true affectyon did ffirst commence. 

" comend me to thy Louely ladye ; 
48 beare to her a 9 Chaine of gold 

& 10 these braceletts ffor a token, 
greeuing that I was soe bold. 

all my ie wells in Like sort take Jl with, thee ; 
52 these 12 are flitting ffor thy wiffe, & 13 not ffor mee. 

" I will spend my dayes in prayer ; 

loue & all her H Lawes deffye ; 
in a nunery will I ,s shrowd me, 
50 ffar ffrom other 16 companye ; 

but ere my prayers haue an end, be sure of this, 
to pray ffor thee & ffor thy Loue I will nott misse. 



I would lose 
my life for 
you. 



" Cease your 
offers, Lady, 



I have a 
wife in 
England, 

and will be 
true 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. 



1 Well in Troth I shall endure Ex- 
treamly. — O.B. 
! in.— O.B. 
a Folly.— O.B. 
1 breeds.— O.B. 

5 Many happy Days God lend her. — 
O.B. 

6 I.— O.B. 



On.— O.B. 
my.— O.B. 

I I MS.— O.B. 

Wiih.— O.B. 
Take thou.— O.B. 
For they.— O.B. 
Hut.— O.B. 
1 will.— O.B. 



" his.— O.B. 
16 any.— O.B. 



398 THE SPANISH LADIES LOVE. 

" Thus Harwell, most gallant captaine, 
60 & Harwell * my harts content ! 
count not Spanish Ladyes wanton 
though to thee my loue 2 was bent. 
aii joy to Ioy & true prosperity e be still 3 with thee ! " 

64 "the Like ffall euer to 4 thy share, most ffaire Ladye ! " 



1 Farewel too.— O.B. 3 Kemain.— O.B. 

2 Mind.— O.B. 4 fall unto.— O.B. 



you 



399 



&\ flntu'cto Bartton : ' 

This ballad is on an event of considerable historical importance, 

on one, if not the first, of the causes tbat 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 Ross, 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 weiris 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 be little 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 l)o better 

Ballads 1727, Vol. I. p. 159, N. xx. given from the other.— P. 

Very different from the printed ballad: - James was a great shipbuilder : Bee 

but containing some things there want- Mr. Gairdner's Preface to his Letters and 



400 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 crueltie. — Lesley,^. 74. 

After this, Barton kept at sea and greatly pestered, if he did 
not plunder, the English. What followed is told in different 
waj 7 s 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 command- 
ing one, the narrow seas should not be infested. 

" 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 111. and Henry VII., vol. ii. volumes. 



SIR ANDREW BAJRTTON. 401 

Sir Edward Howard. After encountering a great deal of foul 
weather, Sir Thomas came up with the Lion, which was com- 
manded 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 ex- 
tremely 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 River 
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 say ling 
towart 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 manful lie 
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 Loudoun, 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 com- 
missionaris meit upoun the bordouris, qfihair 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 ab- 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, &c. — F. 
VOL. III. D D 



402 SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 

"The commissioners of baith the realmes, as wes appointit 
be Doctor West, meit on the bordouris in the moneth of Junij, 
quhair the wrahgs 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 con- 
sent 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 

" 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. ' No quarter ' -was the word. What fol- 
lowed 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 re- 
mote from the truth. In Pt. 2, v. 156, it is said that England 
had before ' 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 luring ships from the merchants.' Hume." 

The present ballad was printed by Percy in bis Eeliques, 

vol. ii. p. 180, with some deficiencies (as be calls them), supplied 

from a black-letter copy, in the Pepys collection, of the " 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 Andreiv 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 L] 

AS : itt beffell in M[i]dsumer time 

when burds singe sweetlye on euery tree, 

our noble King, "Kmq Henery the 8"' 1 To Henry 

vm. 
4 ouer the riuer of Thames past hee. 

1 For the. above three simple and natu- Scot. Ballads, vii. 56). The remaining 

ral lines, Percy actually substituted in four lines of Percy's first stanza, given 

his Eeliques the four following, from the- without any of his inverted commas to 

printed copy in the Pepys collection: mark them asaltered from his MS., are: 

When Flora with her fragrant flowers King Eenrye rode to take the ayre, 

Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye, Over the river of Thames past hee ; 

And Neptune with his daintye showers "When eighty merchants of London came, 

Came to present the monthe of Maye. And downo they knelt upon their 

Well did Prof. Child say in his Intro- ln, '°- 

duction to this Ballad, "We would fain After this, it may be well to carry the 

believe that nothing except a defect in collation right through, though it in- 

the manuscript could have reconciled the solves waste of time, loss of money, and 

Bishop to adopting the four lines with vexation of spirit, — F. 

which the ballad now begins'" {Engl, and 

I) D 2 



404 



SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 



out riding, 
came 80 
London 
merchants, 



and com- 
plain that 
they daren't 
sail on the 
sea 

for fear of a 
pirate who 
robs them, 



a proud 
Scot. 



hee was no sooner ouer the rruer, 

downe in a fforrest to take the ay re, 
but 80 merchants of London cittye 
8 came kneeling before Kmg Henery there : 

" yee are welcome, rich merchants, 

[Good saylors, welcome unto me 1 ! "] 
they swore 2 by the rood the were saylers good, [page 491 ] 
12 but rich merchants they cold not bee ; 

" to ffrance nor fflanders dare 3 we nott passe, 
nor Burdeaux 4 voyage wee dare not ffare, 5 
& all ffor a ffalse robber G that lyes on the seas, 
16 & robb 7 vs of our merchants ware." 

King 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 wrought 10 England such vnright." 
but euer they u sighed, and said — alas ! — 

vnto 12 Kmg Harry this answere 13 againe u 
" he is a proud Scott that will 15 robb vs all 16 
24 if wee were 20 shipps 17 and hee but one. 18 " 



Henry asks 

his Lords, 
" who'll 
fetch that 
traitor to 
me?" 



The King looket ouer his left shoulder, 

amongst his Lords & Barrons soe ffree 19 
" haue I neuer LorcZ 20 in all my realme 
23 will ffeitch yond traitor vnto mee ? " 



1 From the Ediques. 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 Pore v. 
— F. 

3 dare we pass. — P. and Bel. 

4 & to Bourdeaux. — P. 

5 dare we fare. — P. and Ed. 

6 a rover.— licl. 

1 saddedbyP.— F. Who robbs.— Bel. 
8 frownd, and turned him rormde. — 
Ei I. 

Ed. omits throughout. — F. 



'" us. — r. 

11 The merchants. — Eel. 

12 And to.— P. 

13 thus answered. — P. 

14 And thus they did theire answer 
frame. — Eel. 

15 would— P. 

16 that robbes on the seas. — Eel. 

17 Were we '20 ships.— P. 

18 AndSirAndrewo IJarton ishis name. 
—Eel. 

19 And an angryc lookc then looked 
hee.— Bel. 

20 a Lord.— P. 



SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 



405 



32 



"yes, fltat dare I ! " sayes my ~Lord Chareles Howard, 1 «i," says 
neere to the King wheras 2 liee did stand 3 ; Howard, 

" If that jour gro.ce will 4 giue me leaue, 
my selfe wilbe the only man." 



" 5 thou shalt haue GOO 6 men," saith our King, 

" & chuse them out of my rcalme see flfree ; 
besids Marriners and boyes, 7 
.% to guide 8 the great shipp on the sea." 

" He goe speake with S/r Andrew," sais Charles, my 
~Lord Haward ; 
" vpon 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 An- 
drew Barton 



and his 
ship." 



the ffirst of all my Jjord did call, 10 

a noble gunner hee was one 1 1 ; 
this man was 60 12 yeeres and ten, 
44 & Peeter l3 Simon was his name. 

" Peeter," sais hee. " I must sayle to the sea 

to seeke out an enemy e ; god be ray speed ! 14 " 
before all others I haue chosen thee ; 
48 of a 100^ guners thoust be my head. 15 " 



Lord 
Howard 
chooses an 
old gunner, 



Peter Simon , 



1 lord Howard sayes. — Rel. 

- whcl'c. — P. 

3 Yea, that dare I with heart and 
hand. — Rel. 

4 it phase your Grace to. — P.C., P., 
and Rt I. 

5 This stanza Percy alters to : 
Thou art butyong; the king replyed : 

Yond Scott hath uumbred manye a 
yeare, 
" Trust me, my liege, lie make him quail, 
Or before my prince I will never 
appeare." 
Then bowemcn and gunners thou shalt 
have, 
And el i use them over ii iy realme so free ; 
Besides good mariners, and shipp-boyes, 
To guide the great shipp on the sea, 



-PC, P. 



— Rel. ii. 181. 

6 a hundred.— P.O., P. 

7 good sailors and ship boys. 

8 a, aJ. ed. — P. 

9 appear. — P. 

10 The first man, that Lord Howard 
chose. — Ei I. 

11 the ablesl gunner in all the Realm. 
— P.O., P. Was the ablest gunner in 
all the rea'me. — /<'< /. 

n three-score. — P. 
threescore; — Rel. 

" Good Peter. Bel. 

" Peter, sayd he, I must to the sea, 
To bring home a traytor live or dead. 
- A',/. 

15 to be the Head.— P. to he head.— 
Eel. 



Though ho 



was 



406 



SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 



who can 
shoot close 
to his mark. 

Then he 
chooses a 
noble 
bowman, 



William 
Horsley, 



who can hit 
within a 
shilling's 
breadth ; 



and to sea 
he goes. 



He soon 
meets 
a ship, 



" my Lorrf," sais hee, "if you ' baue chosen moo 

of a 100'! gunners to be the bead, 
bange me att 2 jour maine-mast tree 
52 if I misse my marke past 3 pence bread.'' " 
Tbe next of all my LorcZ be did call, 4 

a noble bowman bee was one s ; 
In yorekesbire was tbis c gentleman borne, 
5G & william Horsley was bis name. 

" Horsley," sayes 7 bee, " I must sayle to tbe sea 8 

to seeke out an enemye ; god be my speede 9 J 
before all otbers I baue cbosen tbee ; 
CO of a 100 bowemen thoust be my bead. 10 " 

" My Jjord," sais bee, " if you u baue chosen mee 

of a 100'! bowemen to be they head, 12 
hang me att yo«r mainemast tree 13 
G4 if I misse my marke past 12*! 14 bread." 

with pikes, and gunnes, & bowemen bold, 
this 15 Noble Howard is gone to the sea 
on the day before Midsummer euen, 16 
68 & out att 17 Thames mouth sayled they. 18 
Tbey had not sayled dayes 3 19 

vpon their Iourney 20 they 2l tooke in hand, 
but tbere they 22 mett with 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 activo hands had gained fame ! 
From the pr. copy. — Bel. 

6 he was a. — Ei /. 

7 A letter blotted out before the a in 
the MS.— F. sayd.— Bel. 

s musl with speede. — Eel. 
9 Go seeke a traytor on the sea. — Bel. 
'" And now of a hundred bowemen 
brave 
To be the head I have chosen thee. 
Eel. to be the head.- P. 



11 If you, quoth hee. — Bel. 

12 to be head. — Bel. 

13 On your maine-mast He hanged bee. 
— Bel. 

11 A shilling. — P. If I miss twelve- 
score one penny bread'th. — Bel. 

15 The.— Bel. 

1G With a valyant heart and a pleasant 
eheare. — Bel. 

17 Out at.— Bel, 

18 he.— Bel. 

19 and days he scant had sayled three. 
— Bel. 

20 the Voyage.— P. and Bel. 

21 he.— Bel. 

22 he.— Bel. 

23 itt stay.— Bel. 



*IR ANDREW BARTTON. 



407 



owner 

who he is. 



"thou must tell me thy name," sais Charles, my 1 and asks its 
Lord Ha ward, 
" or who thou art, or ffrom whence thou came, 2 
yea, & 3 where th}^ dwelling is, 
76 to whom & where thy shipp does belong. 4 " 
" My name," sayes hee, " is Henert Hunt, 3 

with a pure G hart & a penitent mind ; 
I and my shipp they doe 7 belong 
80 vnto the New castle 8 that stands vpon tine." 



" Henry 
Hunt, 



of New- 
castle, 



" Now thou must tell me, 9 Harry Hunt, [page 492] 

as thou hast say led by day & 10 by night, 
hast thou not heard of a stout robber l ! ? 
84 men calls 12 him S«'r Andrew Bartton, 'Knight" 
but 13 euer he sighed, & sayd, " alas ! 

14 null well, my 15 Lor;/, I know that wight ! 
he robd me of my merchants ware, 
88 & I was his prisoner but yesternight. 



and Andrew 
Barton 



" as I was say ling vppon the sea, 

& 1G Burdeaux voyage as I did 17 ffare, 
he Clasped me to his Archborde 18 
92 & robd me of all my merchants w r are ; 



robbed me 
last night." 



1 MS. ny.— F. 

2 come. — P. 

3 and shewo me. — Bel. 

* Wherto thy Ship belongs & whom, 
— P. And whither bound, and whence 
thou came. — Bel. 

5 is Henrye Hunt, quoth hee. — Eel. 
poor, heavy. — P. heavye . . carefull. 
—lid. 

7 do both. — P. and Eel. 
To the Newcastle. — Eel. 
Hast thou not heard, now. — Bel. 
or. — P. and Bel. 
Of a Scottish rover on the seas. — 



8 

9 

10 

11 

Eel 
'- call.- Eel. 
13 Than.— Bel 



1 ' With a grieved mind, and well away ! 
But over-well 1 knowe that wight, 
I w;is his prisoner Yesterday.— Eel. 

15 MS. ny.— F. ' 

1B A.— Bel. 

17 voyage for to. Ii> I. 

18 ship, or side of a ship: sec I. 278, 
" oner the hatch-bord casl into the sea." 
A.-S. earc-bord, Ark's-board, the ark. 
Bosworth. 

"b;et earoe-b6rd heold heofona frea," 
t lie Lord of Heaven held the ark. 

Cad-mon, p. 84,1. 26. ed. Thorpe. See 

also Genesis \ Exodus, 1. 576: 

Sexr hundred ger noe Mas hold 
Quau he dede him in <5c arche-wold, 

and Mr. Morris's note, p. 123.— F. 



40:s 



SIB ANDREW BARTTON. 



90 



& I am a man both poore * & bare, 2 

& euery man will bane bis owne 3 of me, 

& I am bound towards London to ffare, 4 
to complaine to my Prince Henekye. 5 " 



Lord 

Howard says, 
'• Show me 
Barton, 
and I'll give 
you Is. for 
every penny 
you've lost." 



Hunt tries 
to di-suade 
him from 
fighting 
Barton, 



" that sball not need," sais my Lo/y? Hawaed fi ; 

if thou canst lett me this robber 1 see, 
ffor euery peny be batb taken 8 tbee ffroe, 
100 tbou sbalt be rewarded a shilling," qwoth hee. 9 
" Now god fibre-fend," saies Henery Hunt, 10 

" my Lore?, you shold worke u soe fiarr amisse ! 
god keepe you out of that Traitors hands ! 
104 for you wott ffull litle 12 what a man liee is. 



" hee is brasse within, & steele without, 

& beanes hee beares in 13 his Topcastle 14 stronge ; 
15 his shipp hath ordinance cleane round about ; 
108 besids, my Lorc7, hee is verry well mand ; 
he hath a pinnace is 16 deerlye dight, 

Saint Andrews crosse, that 17 is his guide ; 
his pinnace beares 18 9 score men & more, 19 
and 30 guns. ]io besids 15 20 cannons on euery side. 21 



who has a 
well-man- 
ned pinnace 



1 There is a tag at the end like an s in 
the MS.— F. 

2 And mickle debts, God wot, I owe. 
— Bel 

3 his own.— P., PC, and Eel. 

4 And I am nowe to London bounde. 
— Bel. 

5 Of our gracious King to beg a boon. 
—P., P.C., and Bel. 

6 Yon shall not need, lord Howard 
sayes. — Bel. 

7 Lett me but once that robber. — Bel. 

8 penny tune. — Bel. 

9 It shall be doubled shillings three. 
— Bel. 

111 the merchan1 sayes. — Bel. 

11 That you shold seek.— Bel. 

12 little you wot. P. Pull litle ye 



wott. — Bel. 

13 beams. — P. Withbeames on.- — Bel. 
The MS. has beanes or beaues again in 
1. 116, 208, 220.— F. 

11 Top-castles. Ledgings surrounding 
the mast-head. Halliwell. — F. 

15 And thirtye pieces of ordinance 
He carries on each 



li, I. 



side alonge. — 



With 18 pieces of ordinance 
He carries on each side along. 
Copy.— P. 

16 And ho hath a pinnace. — Bel. 

17 Ml.— Bel. 

18 beareth.— P. and Bel. 

19 Bel. omits \ moc. — F. 

20 And fifteen.— P. and Bel. 

21 on each side. — P. and Bel. 



Pr. 



SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 



409 



"if you were 20 ' shippes, & he but one, 

either in cliarke-bord 2 or in hall, 3 
he wold ouercome you 4 eucrye one, 
116 & if 5 his beanes they doe downe flail." 

" this is cold comfort," sais my Lord Haward, 6 

" to wellcome a stranger thus to 7 the sea ; 
He 8 bring him & his shipp to shore, 
120 or else iuto 9 Scottland hee shall carrye mee." 



Howard 
says 

he'll beat 
Barton, 
or Barton 
shall him. 



" then you must gett a noble gunner, my Lore?, 

tli i it can sett well w/th his eye 
& smke his pinnace into l0 the sea, 
124 & 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 ; 
128 & 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. 



" & then you need to fferae 15 no Scott, 

whether you sayle by day or by night ; 
& to-morrow by 7 of the clocke, By i next 

J day he shall 

132 you shall meete w/th S/r Andrew Bartton, Kniqht. Illl ' fit 

J J Barton, 

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 scene, 

Whether you sayle by day or night ; 
And to-morrowe, I sweare, by nine of the 
clocke. 

You shall see Sir Androwe Barton 
knight, 



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 orecomc them. — Bel. 

5 If once. — ff< '. 

6 Bel. omits Howard. — F. 

7 stranger on. — Bi I. 

8 Yett He.— Bel. 

9 Or to.— Bel. 

10 in.— Bel. 

11 he'll bo. — 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 1 must give withall. 

— Bel. 

11 To strive to let his beames downe 
fall. — Eel. Percy's next two stanzas, 
altered seemingly from the printed copy, 
take in the next three stanzas of the 
Folio : 



The Second Pakt. 

The merchant sett my lorde a glasse 

Soe well apparent in his sight, 
And on the morrowo, byninoof the clocke, 

He shewd him Sir Androwe Barton 
knight. 
His hatchhorde it was ' gilt ' with gold, 

Sue deei-lv dighl it daz/.led the ee, 

Nbwe by my faith, lord Howarde says, 
This is a gallant sight to see. 
Ret. iL 185-6. ,5 feare.— F. 



410 



SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 



but he must 
lend Hunt 
six guns. 



Lord 
Howard 



I was his prisoner but yester night, 

& he hath taken mee sworne l ; " quoth, hee, 
" I trust my L[ord] god will me fforgiue 
136 & if that oath then 2 broken bee. 

"you must lend me sixe peeces, my Lon7," quoth hee, 

" into my shipp to sayle the sea, 
& to-morrow by 9 of the clocke 

jour honoztr againe then will I see. 3 " 
And the hache-bord where S*r Andrew Lay, 

is bached with gold deerlye dight : 
"now by my ffaith," sais Charles, my Lore? Ha ward, 

" then yonder Scott is a worthy e wight ! 



140 



144 



orders his 
flags to be 
taken in, 
ami a white 
wand put 
out. 



They sail by 
Barton, 
taking no 
notice of 
him. 



which 

enrages 

Barton, 



2'! parte < 



[Part II] 

f " u Take ha yowr ancyents & yo?tr standards, 4 
yea that no man shall 5 them see, 
& put me fforth a white willow wand, 
148 (__ as Merchants vse to 6 sayle the sea." 

But they stirred neither top nor mast, 

but Sir Andrew they passed by. 7 
" whatt English are yonder," said Sir Andrew, 8 
152 " that can so litle curtesye ? 

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 w/thout leaue of mee. 



1 made me swear. — P. 

2 now. — P. 

3 Again your hon^ I will see. — P. 

4 ancyents, standards eke. — Rel. 

5 [insert] now. — P. So close that no 
man may. — Rel. 

6 that.— Rel. 

7 Stoutly they past Sir Andrew by. 
— Rel. 

8 he sayd. — Rel. 

9 Now by the roode, three yeares and 

more 



I have been admirall over the seft ; 
And never an English nor Portingall 
Without my leave can passe this 
way. 
Then called he forth his stout pin- 
nace ; 
" Fetch back yond pedlars nowe 
to nice ; 
I swearc by the masse, yon English 
churles 
Shall all hang at my maine-mast 
tree."— Rel. ii. 186. 



SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 



411 



But now yonder pedlers, they are past, 

which, is no litle greffe to me : [page 493] 

ffeick them backe," saves S/r Andrew Bartton, andhede- 

J Clares he'll 

160 "they shall all hang att my maine-mast tree." hang them, 



and sends 
out his 
pinnace to 
take them. 



with that they pinnace itt shott of, 

that my horcl Harvard might itt well ken, 1 
itt strokes downe my Lords fforemast, 2 
164 & killed 14 of my Lore? his 3 men. 

"come hither, Simon ! " sayes my hord Haward, 4 

" looke that thy words be true thou sayd 5 ; 
He hang thee att my maine-mast tree 6 
168 if thou 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 1] other great shott lesse and more. 12 
w/th that hee lett his gun shott goe l3 ; 

soe well hee settled itt wz'th his eye, 14 
the ffirst sight that Sir Andrew sawe, 
176 hee see 15 his pinnace sunke 16 in the sea. 

when 17 hee saw his pinace sunke, 

Lord ! in his hart hee was not well ' 8 : 
" cutt l9 my ropes ! itt is time to be gon ! to fetch 

180 He goe ffeitch 20 yond 21 pedlers backe my selfe 22 ! " Howard 

himself. 



But old 
Simon 
aims low, 

and with his 
chain shot 



sinks the 
pinnace. 



1 well it ken.— P. Full well Lord 
Howard might it ken. — Eel. 

2 For it strake downe his fore-mast 
tree. — Bel. 

3 of his. — B( I. 

4 Bel. omits Howard. F. 

5 word doe stand in stead. — Bt I. 

8 For at my maine-mast thou shalt 
hang. — jR< I. 

7 twelve score one penny bread. — 
P.C., P. one shilling bread'th. — Bel. 

8 Bel. omits itt.— F. 

9 His ordinance be laid right lowe. 
— Bel. 'Aim low' is the regular rule. 
— F. 



10 full 9 yards long.— P. and fid. 

11 witb.— Bel. 

12 moe. — P. and Bel. 

13 And he lett goe his great gunnes 
shott. —Bel. 



ee.- 



-Bel. 



15 saw. — P. He sawe. — Bel. 

16 MS. sumke.— F. sunke i'.—Bd. 

17 and when. — Bel. 

18 Lord, how his heart with rage did 
swell. — Bel. 

19 Nowe cntt.— Bel. 

20 Ho fetch.— Bd. 

21 MS. yomd.— F. 

22 mysel. — P. and Bel. 



412 



SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 



Old Simon's 
son 

puts in 
another 
shot, and 
kills 60 of 
Barton's 
men. 

Hunt 
attacks 
Barton too, 



and kills SO 
more men. 



Barton 
laments, 



when my Jjorcl Haward 5 saw Sir Andrew loose, 

lord ! in his hart that hee 2 was ffaine : 
" strike on jotiv drummes, spread out jour ancyents ! 3 
184 sound out jour trumpetts 4 ! sound out amaine ! " 

" flight on, my men ! " sais Sir Andrew Bartton 5 ; 

"weate, howsoeuer this geere will sway, 
itt is my Lorci 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 GO more of Sir Andrews men. 6 



188 



192 



lOG 



200 



7 Harry Hunt came in att the other syde, 

& att Sir Andrew hee shott then, 
he droue downe his fformost tree, 

& killed 80 8 more of Sir Andirwes men. 
" I haue done a good turne," sayes Harry Hunt, 

" Sir Andrew is not our Kmgs ffreind ; 
he hoped to haue vndone me yesternight, 

hut I hope I haue quitt him well in the end." 



" Euer alas ! " sayd Sir Andrew Barton, 9 

" what shold a man either 10 thinke or say ? 
yonder ffalse theeffe is my strongest Enemye, 
204 who was my prisoner hut yesterday. 



1 Bel. omits Howard.- — P. 

2 how he. — P. Within his heart. 
— Bel. 

3 your Ancients spread. — P. 

Is'owe spread your ancyents, strike up 
drummes. — Bel. 

4 Sound all your trumpetts. — Bel. 

5 Sir Andrew says. — P. and Bel. 

c ~ a Simon had a sonne, who shott right 
well, 
That did Sir Andrewe mickle scare ; 
In att hie decke he gave a shott, 

Killed threescore of his men of 
warre. 
Bel. ii. 188, (altered from printed copy. 

-F.) 



' Of the next stanza and a half Percy 
makes one, taking two lines from tho 
Polio, and the rest (altered) from the 
printed copy : 
Then Henrye Hunt with rigour hott 

Came bravely on the other side, 
Soone he drove downe his fore-mast tree, 

And killed fourscore men beside. 
Nowe, out alas ! Sir Andrew cryed, 

What may a man now thinke, or say? 
Yonder merchant theefe, that pierceth 
mee, 

He was my prisoner yestenhiy. 

8 fifty. — P.C., P. fourscore men be- 
side. Eel. 

» S? And™ sayd.— P. "' now.— P. 



SIR ANDREW BARTTOX. 



413 



come hither to me, thou Gourden • good, 

& be thou 2 readye att my call, 
& I will giue thee 300'i 3 
208 if tbou wilt lett my bcanes * downe ffall." 

5 with that hee swarned 6 the maine-mast tree, 

soe did he itt 7 with might and maine : 
Horselet 8 with a bearing 9 arrow 
212 stroke the Gourden 10 through the braine, 
And he ffell into u the baches ag-aine, 

& sore of this wound that he l2 did bleed, 
then word went throug Sir Andrews men, 
216 that they Gourden l3 hee was dead. 



and offers 
( rordon 

: /. to 

climb the 
mast and let 
the beams 
fall. 

He climbs 
up, 



but Ilorseley 
shoots liim 
t brough the 
brain. 



" come hither to me, Iames Hambliton, 14 — 

thou art my sisters sonne, I haue no more, 1- ' 
I will giue [thee] 600l ! 16 
220 if thou will lett my beanes downe ffall. 17 " 
with that hee swarned the maine-mast tree, 
soe did hee itt with might and maine l8 : 
Horseley with an-other 19 broad Arrow 
224 strake the yeaman 20 through the braine, 



Barton then 

(..Vers his 

nephew 600?. 

to climb up. 



He climbs, 



but Horseley 
shoots him 
dead. 



1 Gordon. — P. and Bel. 
- That aye wist.— Bel. 
3 I will give thee three hundred 
markes. — A 1 '/. 
1 1 nains. — P. 

6 For the next four lines, Percy, 
without notice, takes (and alters) the 
printed copy : 

Lord Howard hee then calld in haste, 
" Horseley Bee thou be true in stead ; 

For thou shalt at the maine-mast hang, 
If thou misse twelvescore one penny 
bread'th.— 7»V/. li. 188. 

8 swarmed, i.e. climbed, a word still 
used in Shropshire [Pall over England. 
— F.] in this sense.— P. Then Gordon 
swarvd. Eel. MS. may be swarued. — F. 

7 He Bwarved it.— Eel. 

8 Put Horseley. Bel. 

8 See Adam Bell $c, p. 98, 1. 601. The 
In i vrmcjv irrow was a broad one, 1.223 below. 



I suspect the word means only well- 
feathered for far shooting, like a 'good 
carrying cartridge.' — F. 

10 Gordon.— P. and Bel. 

11 downe to. — Bel. 

12 sore his deadlye wounde. — Bt I. 

13 Gordon. — P. How that the Gordon. 
— Bel. 

11 Hamilton.— P. Hambilton.— Bel. 
15 mo. — P. my only sisters sonne. — 
Eel. 
u thee six hundred pounds. — P. 

17 wilt to my Top-castlo 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. — ■ 
Eel. 

1! ' Bui Horseley with a. h'<l. 

-" yeoman. — P. Pierced the Hambil- 
ton thorough tlic heart. — Bel. 



414 



SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 



Burton 
calls lor his 
armour ; 
he'll 

climb to the 
topcastle 
himself. 



He puts on 
his armour. 



Horseley 



228 



232 



236 



240 



241 



1 Unit 2 hee ffell clowne to the liaches againe 3 : 

sore of his wound that 4 hee did bleed. 
itt is verry true, as the welchman sayd, 

couetousness getts no gaine. 5 
but when hee saw his sisters sonne c slaine, 

Jjord ! 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 

" goe 10 ifeitch me downe my armour of prooife, [page 494] 

for itt is guilded n with gold soe cleere. 
god be w/th my brother, Iohn of Bartton ! 

amongst 12 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 ~Lord Hawaud, 16 
" & looke 17 jour shaft that itt goe right ; 

shoot a good shoote in the time 18 of need, 

& ffor thy shooting ia thoust be made a Knight." 

" He doe my best," sayes 20 Horslay then, 
" yottr 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 stroame 
amaine: 
Then every Scott cryed, "Well-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. 

3 MS. agaime.— F. 4 then.— P. 

5 Covetousness brings nothing home. 
Ray: ed. Holm, p. 81.— F. 

6 nephew. — P. 

' forth.— Bel. s proof.— P. and Bel. 
'■' top-mast myscl. — P. topcastle my- 
sel.- // I. 



,0 MS. pared away.— F. 

11 gilt.— P. That gilded is.— Bel. 

12 Against. — Bel. 

13 ware. — P. hee it ware. — Bel. 
1 ' 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. 

10 my lord.- — Bel. 

17 looke to.- — Bel. 

18 in time. — Bel. 

10 it. — P. it thou shalt.— Bel. 

'-'" quoth.- Bel. 

-' sec, with might and maine. — Bel. 



SIR ANDREW BABTTON. 



415 



if I shold be hanged att your mainemast, l 
248 I haue in my shipp but arrowes tow. 2 " 

3 but att Sir Andrew bee sbott then ; 

hee made sure 4 to hitt his marke ; 
vnder the spole 5 of his right arme 

hee smote S*'r Andrew quite throw the hart, 
yett ffrom the tree hee wold not start, 

but hee clinged to itt w/th might & maine. 
vnder the coller then of his Iacke, 6 

he stroke Sir Andrew thorrow the braine. 



252 



256 



260 



264 



" flight on my men," sayes Sir Andrew Bartton, 7 

" I am 8 hurt, but I am 9 not slaine ; 
He lay mee 10 downe & bleed a- while, 

& then He rise & flight againe. 11 
flight on my men," sayes Sir Andrew Bartton, 1 ' 2 

" these English doggs they bite soe lowe ; l3 
14 flight on ffbr Scottland & Saint Andrew 

till l5 you heare my whistle blowe ! " 



but when the cold not heare his whistle blow, 

sayes Harry Hunt, " He lay nry head 
you may bord yonder noble shipp, my Lore?, 
268 for I know Sir Andrew hee is dead." 16 



lias only two 
arrows left : 



with one lie 
si loots 
Dart on 
through the 
heart, 



ami 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 maiue- 
mast tree. — Eel. 

2 I have now left but arrowes twaino. 
— Bel. 

3 For this stanza Percy lias the follow- 
ing, altered from the printed copy: 

Sir Andrew he did swarve the tree, 

With right good will he swaryed then: 
rp"i> his breast did Horseley hilt. 

But the arrow hounded hack agen. 
Then Horselye spyed a privye place 

With a perfect eye in a seerctle part; 
Under the spole of his right arme 

He smote Sir Andrew to the heart. 

1 right [sure].— P. 

5 Fr. espaule, a shoulder. — Cotgrave. 

,; leather tunic oyer the armour. See 
Fairholt, on Jacket. — F. 



says.— P. Sir And 



7 Sir And": says.— r. oir Andrew 
sayes. — Bel. 

s a little I'm hurt.— Pr. Copy, P., and 
Bel. 

» hut yett.— Bd. >° hut lye.— AW. 

11 Only half the n in the .MS. V. 
'- S«'r And? says. — P. Sir Andrew 
sayes. — Bel. 
'•* ami never flinche before the foe. — Bel. 
1 ' Hut stand fast by St.Andrew's Cross. 
—P. Copy, P., and Bel. with And for 
But.—F. '•'■ Until.— P. 

,a Tli.\ never heard his whistle blow, 
Which made their hearts waxo 
sore adread : 
Then Horseley sayd, Aboard, my lord, 
For "ell 1 wott Sir Andrew's dead. 
B I. (altered from printed copy). — P. 



416 



SIR ANDREW BARTTOX. 



Howard and 

Hunt 

board 

Barton's 

ship. 



11-1 



with that they horded this ' noble sliijip, 
soe did they itt 2 with might & maine ; 

the Sound 18 score Scotts aliue, 3 

besids the rest were maimed & 4 slaine. 



Howard cuts 
off Barton's 
head, 



has his 
body thrown 
overboard, 



My Lore 7 - 5 Haward tooke a sword in his hand, 

& smote 7 of 8 Sir Andrews head, 
the Scotts stood by, did weepe & mourne, 
276 but neuer a word durst speake or say. 9 
he caused his body to be taken downe, 10 

& ouer the hatch-bord cast 1 * into the sea, 
& about his middle 300 crownes : 
280 " wheresoeuer thou lands, itt 12 will bury thee." 



and sails to 
England, 



13 with his head they sayled into England againe 
with right good will, & fforce & meanye, 14 



1 they boarded then [his]. — P. and 
Ed. 

2 They boarded it.— Bel. 

3 Eighteen score Scotts alive they 
found. — Ed. 

4 The rest were either maimd or. — Bel. 
s Lord.— Eel. " in hand.— Bel. 

7 [insert] ther.— P. 

8 And off he smote. — Ed. 

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.) — F. 

10 to be" cast.— Eel. 

11 Bel. omits $ and cast. — P. 

12 "Wherever thou land this. — Bel. 

13 For 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 T bring with nice; 
A braver shipp was never none : 



Nowe hath your grace two shipps of 
warre, 

Before in England was but one." 
King Henryes grace with royall dice r< . 

Welcomed the noble Howard home, 
And where, said he, is this rover stout : 

That I myselfe may give the doome ? 

"The rover, he is safe, my leige, 

Full many a fadom in the sea ; [Percy] 
If he were alive, as he js dead, 

I must ha' left England many a day : 
And your grace may thank four men i' 
the ship 

For the victory wee have wonne, 
These are William Horseley, Henry 
Hunt, 

And Peter Simon, and his somie." 

To Henry- Hunt, the king then sayd, 

In lieu of what was from thee tone, 
A noble a day thou shalt have, 

With Sir Andrewes jewels and his 
chayne." 
And Horseley thou shalt be a knight, 

And lands and livings shalt have 
store ; 
Howard shall be earl Surrye hight, 

As Howards erst have bcene before. 
—Bel. ii. 192-3. 

" main. — P. 



SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 417 

& the day beffore Newyeeres euen which he 

reaches on 

284 & into Thames mouth againe they came. December 

My "Lord Haward wrote to Kim/ 1 1 i.nkuyks grace, Lord 

J v ° Howard 

with all the newes hee cold him bring : writes to 

Henry \ ill. 

"such a newyeeres gifft I haue 2 brought to yom- that he has a 

•> ° ° •> grand new- 

g r [ aCe l>_ CftF 
288 as neuer did subiect to any 3 King. 

" ffor Merchandyes & Manhood, 
the like is nott to be Sound ; 
the sight of these wold doe you good, 
292 ffor you haue not the Like in jouy English ground." 

but when hee heard tell that they were come, Henry is 

17 delighted to 

full royally bee welcomed them home : £ nd th ? fc its 

J u Barton s 

S/r Andrews shipp was the Things Newyeeres guifft ; shi P> 
296 a brauer shipp you neuer saw none. 

Now hath our King Sir Andrews shipp ail over 

9 L L pearls. 

besett with pearles and precyous stones : The King 

has now two 

Now hath England 2 shipps of warr, shi P s of war - 
300 2 shipps of warr, before but one. 

" who holpe to this ? " sayes King Henerte, 
" that I may reward him ffor his painc. 4 " 

" Harry Hunt & Peeter Simon, He gives 

' Hunt 

304 WlLLIAM HorSELEAT, & I THE SAME." Barton's 

" Harry Hunt shall haue his whistle & chaine, [page4o;>] jewels &c. 

& all his Iewells, whatsoeuer they bee, 

& other rich giffts that I will not name, 

308 for his good service he hath done 5 mee. 

Ho R SLAY, right thoust be a Kninht ; makes 

' ° •' Horselcy a 

Lands & liuinjjs thou shalt haue store. knight 

° I Inward 

Howard shalbe Erie of Nottingham, £"'"'. ot " 

° ' Notting- 

312 & soe was neuer Haward before. ham ' 



1 they came again.— P. * MS. p;iime. — F. 

2 a noble prize have I. — Eel. * [insert] to. — P. 
8 a,.— Eel. 

VOL. III. E E 



418 



SIR ANDREW BARTTON. 



and frivcs 
Simon ami 

His son 

500?. 



The Queen 

O 's 



to see 
Barton's 



face. 



The King 
wishes he 
were 
alive again, 



and sendg 
his men 
back to 
Scotland. 



" Now Peeter Simon, thou art old, 

I will maintains thee & thy sonne, 
thou shalt haue 500 1 .' all in gold 
316 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 but to see Sir Andrew Bartton, Knight. 

but when they see his deadly fface, 

his eyes were 2 hollow in his head, 
" I wold giue a 100 1 .'," sais King Henerte, 
324 " the 3 man were aliue as hee is dead ! 

yett ffor the manfull part that hee hath playd 4 

both heere & 5 beyond the sea 6 
his men shall haue halfe a crowne 7 a day 
328 to bring them to my brother King Iamye. 8 " 



flinis. 



1 And the men shall have five hundred 
markes 
For the good service they have done. — 
Eel. ; 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. — Eel. 

3 This.— Eel. 

4 part he playd. — Eel. 

5 [insert] eke. — P. 

6 Which fought soe well with heart 
and hand. — Bel. 

7 twelvepence. — Eel. 

8 Till they come to my brother king's 
high land. — Eel. Oh, this restless itch 
of alteration ! — F. 



419 



tt p ITY the sorrows of a lover " is the gist of this piece. The 
swain protests that he is scorched with the flame of love, and 
must 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. 



12 



10 



LIKE : to the sillye Siluan 

burnt by the ffire he liked, 
I scor[c]hed am With cupidds ffyery fflamc, 

wherin I became l delighted, 
grant then, o grant, my desire to allay, 

lest that I ruined bee ; 

& godd[e]sse like, saue mee ! 

[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 
w/th bewtyc March intwined 4 ; 

harmonious paire, if soc linked they were, 
how delightffuU in thee combined! 

ilii i rest of all that the sun doth survay, 
lett gracyousncsse take place ; 



1 MS. bccanc. — F. 
- By your Love, — P. 



3 you are. — P. 
1 entwined. — P, 



Tm scorched 
with Cupid's 
flame ! 

Then, love, 



l.i-i Pity join 
with thy 
Beauty. 



E B 2 



420 



THE SILLYE SILUAN. 



Be not too 
coy: 



pity me ! 



20 



O be not to coye * ! 

Thou art an Angell, if a ffreind ; 

if an enemy e, a ffeend. 
then to pittye condiscend, I pray ! 



Love your 
lover again. 



Grant me 

love's 

rights, 

now the time 
is so fit. 



ffaine wold I that my desires 

on her might haue refflectyon. 
Loue loued againe ; itt is my only 2 aime 
24 to be answered with true aflectyon. 
Loue is attended with many a plesure 
to thee vnknowene as yett. 
mee 3 to those 4 Ioyes admitte ! 
28 crowne me with those loues rights, 

with those precyous delights, 
whiles the time that vs invites if itts ffitte. 5 



ffillis. 



1 too coye. — P. 

- it is my only. — P. 

3 MS. meete.— F. 



4 nice then to those. — P. 

5 that invites us is so fit. — P. 



421 



patient <BximU ; x 

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 pro- 
testing. 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 Broivn Maid 
was written especially to gainsay those who accused them of 
perpetual inconstancy; Patient Grissell to rebuke those who pro- 
nounced them ever shrews. Griselda is essentially a reactionary 
story ; else, the patience of the heroine is too extreme to be toler- 
ated, 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 under- 
stand why Griselda's patience is represented as so extreme and 

1 In tin- printed Collection of Old V>. — F. vid. Boceaco Chaucer {pencil 
Ballads, 1727, Vol 3. p. 252.— P. "To note). 
ilic tune of The Bride's Good-morrow $c." 



422 PATIENT GRISSELL. 

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 ? 
(xriselda bears the grievous burdens laid upon her shoulders with 
a quiet unmurmuring spirit. No angry cries, no burning re- 
proaches 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 soul. Bereft 
of her children, cast off by her husband, the tenderest fibres of 
her soul thus rudely torn and broken, she cannot but weep some- 
what. " The tears stood in her eyes." But 

Sho nothing answered, no words of discontent 
Did from her lips arise. 

And when ready to " part away," 

" God send long life unto my lord," quoth she. 
" Let no offence be 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 Garland 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' Eegisters, 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 GRISSELL. 423 

The poem given by Percy in the Meliques, 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 sub- 
ject of this tale," says the Bishop, " is taken from that enter- 
taining colloquy of Erasmus intitled Uxor /ms/jb-^Lya/xos sive 
Conjugium ; which has been agreeably modernized by the late 
Mr. Spence in his little Miscellaneous Publication intitled 
1 Moralities &c. by Sir Harry Beaumont, 1753, 8vo. pag. 42.' ' 
" Jam si molestum non erat," says Eulalia, one of the interlocu- 
tors in that dialogue, " referam tibi quiddam de marito commo- 
ditate uxoris correcto ; quod nuper accidit in hac ipsa civitate." 
"Nihil est quod agam," rejoins Xantippe, whose name indicates 
her views as to how husbands should be dealt with, " 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. " matronam nimium 
bonam ! Ego citius pro lecto substravissem illi fasciculum urti- 
carum ac tribulorum." The Patient Countess then is other than 
our Grisekla. 

Griselda 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 on l huntingc a Marquis 

, , ! rr> ii out bunting 
hard by a norrest syde, 

a proper maid, 2 as slice did sitt a spinninge, 

4 his gentle eye espyde. spiesa 

<=> j l j lovely maid, 
i ;i . — or,. - fair and comely Maiden. — O.B. 



424 



PATIENT GRISSELL. 



singing. 



His heart is 
on fire, 



and he 
accosts the 
maiden. 



12 



Most ffaire & louely, & of comely ' grace, was sliee, 

although in simple attire ; 
shee sung ffull sweet 2 with pleasant voice melodyous- 
lyee, 

w7w'ch sett the Lords hart on ffire. 
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 ffamous Slower, [p. 49C] 
ffaire Mistress of this homely bower 

where louee & vertue liues G with sweet content ! " 



She 

welcomes 
him 
modestly. 



The Marquis 



asks her 
name ; he 
means to 

marry her. 

" Grissell 
is my name. 
I'm quite 
unfit for 
you." 

He urges his 
suit; 



with comely Iesture & modest ffine 7 behauiour 
16 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, 
20 which sett his sences att striffe ; 

quoth, 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, 
24 " ffarr vnftitt ffor jour degree : 

a silly may den, & of parents poore." 
" nay, Grissell ! thou art rich," he sayd ; 
" a virtiuos, ffaire, & comely e mayde ! 
28 grant me thy loue, & I will aske no more." 



she consents, 

they marry, 

she is clad 
in silk 
velvet, 



Att Lenght shee Consented, & being both contented, 

they marryed were with speed, 
her country russett was changed to silke & veluett, 
32 as to her state agreed ; 



1 a comely. — O.B. 

2 most, sweetly. — O.B. 

3 was.— O.B. 

1 o.H. 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. 

"' thy name— P. & O.B. 



PATIENT GRISSELL. 



425 



3G 



40 



44 



48 



52 



5G 



60 



& -when that sliee was trimly tyred in the same, 

her bewtye shined most bright, 
ffarr stainninge euery other braue & comelye l dam[e] 

that 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 : 

" noble Marquesse " (quoth they) "why doe you 3 
wrong vs, 

thus baselye ffor to wedd, 
that 4 might haue gotten an honourable 5 Ladye 

into jouv princely bed ? 
who will not now joicr noble issue still 6 deryde, 

w/w'ch heerafter shall 7 be borne, 
that are of blood soe base on 8 the Mothers syde, 

the w7wch will bring them in scorne. 
put her therfore quite away ; 
take 9 to you a Ladye gay, 

whcrby jour Linage may renowned bee : " 
thus euery day the seemed to 10 prate 
that malliced n Grissells 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 
away , 

and marry a 
Lady. 



Grissell 
takes it all 
patiently. 



when 13 the Marquesse see 14 that 15 they were bent thus The Marquis 

against his ffaithffull 16 wiffe, 
who 17 most dearlye, tenderlye, & entirlye, 



loves her 
as his life, 



he loued 18 as his line ; 



1 Fair and Princely. — O.B. 

2 O.B. omits this lino.— 1'\ 

3 didst thou.— O.B. 

4 Who.— O.B. 

5 horn™ in the MS.— F. 

6 now. — O.B. 

7 shall hereafter.— O.B. 
B base Bom by. — O.B. 

'■> And take.— < ).l !. 



but thinks 
to prove her, 

10 they did.— O.B. " cnvy'd.— O.B. 

12 Who all this while- Took it most 
patiently. — O.B. 

13 When that.— O.B. 

11 Did soe.— O.B. 

15 O.B. omits that.—F. 
Ui lawful.— 0.]}. 

17 Whom he.- -0.3. 

18 Beloved.— O.B. 



426 



PATIENT GRISSELL. 



and seeins 
cruel, 

that men 
may pity 
her. 



She gives 
birth to 
twins, 
a boy and 
girl. 



A grand 

christening 

feast 

is held for 

six weeks, 



and then 
the Marquis 
sends a 
messenger to 
fetch the 
twins 
to be 
murdered. 



Grissell 

weeps, 

but says her 

lord must be 

obeyed. g 4 



[page 497] 



She kisses 
her babes, 



Minding ' in secrett for to prone 2 her patyent hart, 

therby her ffoes 3 to disgrace, 
thinking to play 4 a hard discurteons 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, 
w 7 Mch did their ffather 7 well content, 

& w7wch did make their mothers 8 hart full glad. 

Great Ioy & 9 ffeasting was att the 10 childrens christ- 
enin[g,] 
72 & princely triumph made. 

6 weekes together all nobles that came thither 

were entertained, and stayd. 
& when that all these plasant sporttings n quite were 12 
done, 
76 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, — 
80 for soe the Marquess did decree : 

" come,lett mehaue thy 14 children," then hee say[d]. 
with that, ffaire Grissell wept ffull sore, 
shee wrong her hands, & sayd no more : 

"My 15 gracyous Lord must haue his will obayd." 



Shee tooke the babyes 16 ffrom 17 the nursing Ladyes 

betweene her tender armes ; 
shee often wishes with many sorrowffull kisses 
88 that shee might helpe 18 their harmes : 



1 Meaning. — O.B. 

3 his Foes for. — O.B. 

4 shew her. — O.B. 

5 the.— O.B. 

6 at the last.— O.B. 
■ Mother.— O.B. 

s Father's— O.B. 



try.-O.B. 



Royal. 0.15. 



10 these.— O.B. 

11 the pleasant Sporting.— O.B. 
was.— O.B. " How the.— O.B. 
The.— O.B. 
But my.— O.B. 
the Babes.— O.B. 
Even from.— O.B. IK ease.- O.B. 



PATIENT GRISSELL. 



427 



" ffarwell, ffarwell 1000 times, my children deere ! 

neere l shall I see you againe ! 
tis long of me, yowr 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 vnvvorthynesse ! 
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 brought 7 them both 8 with speed, 

who 9 secrett sent them vnto a noble Ladye 

to bee brought vp indeed, 
then to ffaire Grissell with a heauy hart hee goes 
104 where shee sate myldlye alone. 10 

a pleasant gesture & a louelye looke shee showes, 

as if greeffe u shee had neuer 12 knone. 
quoth, hee, " my children now are slaine : 
108 what thinkes ffaire Grissell of the same ? 

sweet Grissell, now declare thy mind to mee." 
" sith you, my Lord, are pleased with itt, 
poore Grissell thinkes the actyon 13 fitt. 
112 both I and mine att your 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 Grissell 

(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 14 murmure, ffaire Girssell, at thy honour, Tfaenhetella 

_ her that, to 

& 1 noe loy Lan naue please his 

. nobles, she's 

till thou be banisht both ffrom my court & presence, to be sent 

,. . ,, away 

116 as they vniustly craue. 



1 Never.— O.B. 


H thence.— O.B. 


2 both.— O.B. 


8 Who in.- O.B. 


3 auoth. — O.B. 
* liarest — O.B. 


10 all alone.— O.B. 


11 no Grief.— O.B. 


5 to thee.— O.B. 


12 O.B. omits neuer. — F. 


u And to. O.B. 


'• 1 this.— O.B. 


7 bore.— O.B. 


11 Ono stroke too few in tho MS, 



428 



PATIENT GRISSELL. 



in her plain 
grey frock, 



and be his 
wife no 
more. 



thou must be stript out of thy l 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 shalt 4 be no more, 
nor I thy Lore?, 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, 
but she says 
nothing, 



takes off her 
velvet gown, 



puts on her 
russet one, 



kisses her 
husband, 



When gentle Grissell had hard this 8 wofull tydings, 
128 the teares stood in her eyes. 

she nothing 9 answered, no words of disconte[nt]- 
ment 10 
did ffrom her lipps arrise ; 
her veluett gowne most pitteouslye shee slipped of, 11 
132 her kirtle of silke with the same. 

her russett gowne was browght againe with many a 
scoffe : 
to bere 12 them all, 13 her selfe shee did fframe. 
when shee was drest in this array, 
136 and readye was 14 to part 15 away, 

" god send long liue vnto my Lo rd ! " q«oth shee, 
" Let no Offence be ffound in this, 
to giue my Lord a parting kisse." 
140 with wattered 16 eyes, " ffarwell, my deare ! " quoth 
hee. 17 



1 Of thy brave.— O.B. 




9 Nothing she.— O.B. 




2 to.— O.B. 




10 Discontent.— O.B. 




3 Byssus, Lat. — Pencil note. 


Silk. — 


11 patiently she stripped off.- 


-O.B, 


O.B. 




■- hear.— O.B. 




4 must.— O.B. 




13 O.B. omits.— F. 




8 dare.— O.B. 




14 for.— O.B. 




6 Theo to maintain. — O.B. 




15 pass.— O.B. 




7 I do live.— O.B. 




10 watry. — O.B. 




8 Did hear these.— O.B. 




17 said she.— O.B. 





PATIENT GRISSELL. 



429 



ffrom statelye l pallace, vnto her ffathcrs cottage 

poore Grissell now 2 is gone, 
ffull 15 winters slice liued there contented ; 
144 no wrong shee thought vpon ; 

& att that 3 time through all the Land the Speeches 
went, 
the Marquesse shold marryed bee 
vnto a Ladye great 4 of hye discent ; 
148 & to the same all partyes 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 wi'the her brother come, 
which was great Ioy to all & some : 

& 7 Grissell tooke all this most patyeutlye. 
And in the Morning when that 8 they shold be weded, 
15 6 her patyence now 9 was tryde : 

Gr[i]ssell was chargd, her-selfe in princely 10 ntannowr 
ffor to attyre the bryde. 



and goes to 
her father's 

cottage. 

There she 
stays 15 
years, 



and is then 
sent for 
to prepare 
the 

Marquis's 
new wife's 
room, 



[page 498] 



and dress her 
for her 
wedding. 



most willingly shee gaue consent vnto n the sam[e :] 
160 the bryde in her ,2 brauery was drest, 

& prcsentlye the noble Marquesse thither came 
with all his hords att his request : 

" Grissell, I wold 13 aske of thee 
164 if thou wold to this match ,4 agree ; 

methinkes thy lookes are waxen 16 wonderous coy." 

with that they all began to smile, 

& Grissell shee replyes 16 the while, 
168 " god send Lord Marquesse many yceres of Ioy ! " 



Grissell 
dresses the 
bride ; 

and then the 
Marquis 



asks her if 
she agrees to 
the match. 



She wishes 
him many 

happy years. 



1 Princely.— O.K. 

2 she O.B. 

3 this.— O.B. 

* Noblo Lady.— O.B. 
•• O.B. on, its did.— F. 
,; Blight.— O.B. 

7 But.— O.B. 

8 as.— O.B. 



" there.— O.B. 

10 friendly.— O.B. 
ii to do.— O.B. 

12 O.B. omits her.—F. 

11 will.— O.B. 

" If to this Match thou wilt. 

15 waxed.— O.B. 
,u reply'd.— O.B. 



O.B. 



430 



PATIENT GKISSELL. 



The Marquis 



steps to her 

.inrt says, 
"You are 
my only 
bride : 
these are 
your 
children. 



You who 
envied her, 
blush for 
shame ! 



Fame shall 

evermore 

praise 

Patient 

Grissell.'* 



The Marquesse was moued to see his best beloucd 

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 ! " — 
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, 

Now blush ffor shame, & honour vertuous liffe ! 
180 the chronicles of Lasting flame 
shall euermore extoll the name 

of patyent Grissell, my most patyent 5 wiffe ! ' : 

fT[inis.] 



1 my.— O.B. 

2 youthful Lady.- 

3 well.— O.B. 



-O.B. 



4 chosen. — O.B. 

5 constant. — O.B. 



431 



This piece was manifestly written by a professional hand. 
Dolorous and tragic incidents which now form the 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 per- 
formed 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 Ovtos Xttttos school. 



IN : Barwicke Low, 1 as late beffell, 



At Berwick 

a great mishap happened tlierin a sad mishap 

wold peaine 2 a stonye hart to tell : 
4 the great discourse that did begin 

Betwixt 2 youthes of gentle blood. between two 

,t in • n t well-born 

as they were walking all alone, youths, 

they wrought their wills as they thought good, 
8 w7//ch made their ffreinds to waile & mono. 

The one hight Scroope, as I heard tell, Scroope 

, _ , .. and Browne. 

the other browne, as 1 hard say : 

betwixt these 2 itt soe beffell, 

12 that hand to hand the made affray. 

1 ? Berwick Low, ;i hill near Berwick. — II. * Qu. MS. — F. 



432 



SCROOPE AND BROWNE. 



Scroope 
taunted 
Browne 
with not 
daring to 
fight him. 



Saitli Scroope to Browne, " what dost tliou meane 

to come all naked l thus to mee ? 
itt meaneth sure, by thy combing, 
1G thou wilt not flight, but rather fflee." 



Browne 
retorted ; 



Quoth Browne, " my weapons are att hand, 

as to thy paine shall soone bee seene ; 
ffor while that I may goe or stand, 
20 one ffoote to ffly I doe not meane." 



they drew 
their 
swords, 
and fought 



They drew ffbrth their swords anon, 
they Sought together manffullye, 
they 2 bright blades in the sun shone, — 
24 Lord, itt was great Ioy to see ! — 



manfully, 
till Scroope 



hit Browne 
a cruel cut 
in the leg, 



and called 
on him to 
yield. 
Browne 
would not ; 
they fought 
again ; 



and Browne 

killed 

Scroope. 



They Laid on strokes that were soe strong, 

they ffbught together manffullye. 
att Lenght Scroope [pressed] 3 vnto Browne, 
28 [&] with his sword ffull Egarlye 

Hee hitt Browne on the legg, god wott, 

hee cutt him vaines 2 or 3 ; 
a man might haue seene where that stroke bo[tc ;] 
32 LonZ, itt pearced him cruelly ! 

They tooke their breath, & still they stoode : 

Qwoth Scroope, "thou Browne, yeelde thee to mee ! " 
[on] which, Browne waxing neere hand wood, 
36 together ffearfullye they cold fflee. 

They Lady came runinge apace : 

Browne cast vp his head & did her see ; 
with that hee cut Scroope in the fface ; 
40 [the sword to the brain went through Lis ce. 4 ] 



1 naked = unarmed. So mid us in 
" In maximo nietu nudum et c?ccum 
corpus ad liostcs vortere." — Sail. Jut/. L07 
and elsewhere) and yv/j.vbs in Horn. //. 
xvi., 81 o, ou5' wreueii/e*' ndrpjuAov yvjj.v6i> 



wep i6vr' tv STji'jTTjTi, and elsewhere. — II. 
- their.— P. 

3 pressed.- — Pyee. 

4 A line of the MS. is pared away. — F. 
Alas ! it was the more pittye. — P. 



SCROOrE AND BROWNE. 



433 



44 



" Out & alas ! " quoth this gay Ladye, [page 499] Browne's 

" Browne ! why wouldest thou doe this dcede ? reproaches 

J him. 

I loued him better then I loued thee ! " She loved 

Scroope best. 

sliee kist his wounds as they did bleede. 



" 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." 



Browne says 
she has 
plighted her 
troth to him. 



" As ffor our trothes plighting," shee saith, 

" is not the thing that grecueth mee ; 
but ffor his sake thai heerc is dead, 
52 taken soone that thou shalt bee." 



"I care not 

for that : 



you shall be 
taken up for 
Scroope's 
sake." 



" O No, No, No, Ladye ! " he sayes, 

" if that thou wilt thy troth deniye, 
yett ffor his sake that heere Lyes l dead, 
56 taken will I neuer bee." 

Hee 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. 



"If you deny 
your troth, 



I'll not be 
taken," 
says Browne, 



then runs 
himself 
through the 
body, 



and dies. 



The ffattall end of Scroope & 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 fiiyde : 
a Bwoning trance god did her sen. I 
68 that sliee Hell dead vpon the ground. 



The Lady 

falls (low a 
dead too 



Ms. Lyed.— F. 



vol. nr. 



!• i' 



434 



SCROOrE AND BROWNE. 



Ladies, 



learn to keep 
secrets ! 



72 



You Ladyes all that keere my song, 

& maidens all of Ecke degree, 
see yee neuer speake word with jour tounge, 

but keepe itt till the day you dye. 



Young men ; 
seek for a 
true love : 



it*8 a rare 
bird. 



76 



And young men all that keere my song, 
to seeke true loue doe you not spare ; 

tkougk Piramus be eft ' to find, 

yett Thisbye is a bird most rare. ffinis. 



1 eath. — P. eft, quick, ready : Shakspere, in Halliwell. — F. 



['•' Now ffye on Dreames" printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 109, 
follows here in the MS. p. 499.] 



435 



2u'n£f ftumfcrr : l iw i 

Geoffrey of Monmouth tells us 2 that after the Trojan war, 
iEneas, 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 acci- 
dentally 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 bi^crest 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 >>y lection of Old Ballads 1726, Vol. 2. p. 5. 

Geoffrey of Monmouth and his Welsh N.L — P. 

translators, by Wace (i. (>."> 71), Laya- - Book i, Chapters iii-xviii, Book ii, 

mon (i.'.u L06), Etoberl of Gloucester Chapters i-\ , A. Thompson's translation 

(i. 23-7), Robert of Brunne (Inner Temple revised by Giles (Bonn, 1848) p. ( J1 

MS. fol. 13) &c— F. In the printed Col- 109.— JF. 

r f 2 



436 KINGE HUMBER. 

was betrothed to Guendoloena, the daughter of Corineus. Then 
Humber, king of the Huns, invaded Albania, and slew Albanact. 
Locrin and Karaber 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 Guendolgena. 
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 Guendoloena, 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 varia- 
tions, the part after Humber's invasion. Sir F. Madden shows in 
his note in Layamon iii. 313 (p. 440, note l 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 again 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 of 



KINGE 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 — 

The Danube to the Severn gave 

The darken'd heart that beat no more, (In Memoriam, xix.) 

when we learnt that Tennyson's friend lay on Severn's hank, 
and that there from his ashes might be made 

The violet of his native land. (ib. xviii.) 

Though Geoffrey's stories be not true, let us not forget that we 
owe him a debt of gratitude for them. 



12 



1C 



VV HEjS" Humber in his wrathe-ffull rage 
'King Albanack in ffeild had slaine, 

those bloody broyles ffor to asswage, 
King Locrin then applyed his paine, 

& with an host of Brittaines stout 

att Lenght hee Sound King Humber out. 

Att vantage great he mett him then, 
& with his hoast besett him soe 

that hee destroyed his warlike men, 
& HnMBEBS power did ouerthrowe ; 

& Himber, which ffor ffeare did fhye, 

leapt into a riuer desperattlye. 

And be[i]ng drowned in the dcepe, 

& left a Ladye there a-liue, 
& l sadlye did lament and weepe 

for ffeare they shold her liffe depriue ; 
but by her fface that was soe ffaire 
the Kinij was caught in cupidds snare. 



After 

Humber had 
slain 
Albanack, 



Locrin 



attacked 



and routed 
his army, 



and Humber 



drowned 
himself. 



Locrin fell 

in love with 
a lluiuii.-h 
lady, 
Estrilde, 
and secretly 



1 who.— F. 



438 



K1NGE HUMBER. 



(to the 
sorrow of his 
Queen 
Guendoline, 

by whom he 
hat! a son) 



begat a 
daughter on 
Estrilde. 



Hum her 

then put 
away 

Guendoline, 
(who took 
refuge in 
Cornwall), 



and crowned 
Estrilde his 
wife. 



Hec tooke the Ladye to his louo, 
20 & secrettlye l did keepe her still ; 

soe that they Queene did quicklye proue 
the "King did beare her small good 2 will ; 

although in wedlocke late begun, 
24 hee had by her a gallant sonne. 

Queene Guendoline was greeued in m[i]nde 

to see the King was altered soe ; 
att leng'ht the cause shee chanct to ffind, 
28 which, brought her to much bitter woe. 
ffor Estrilde was his ioy, god wott, 
by whom a daughter hee begott. 3 

The duke of cornewall being dead, 
32 the ffather of that gallant queene 4 ; 

the King by lust being ouer-ledd, 
his lawfFull wiffe hee cast of cleane, 

who with her deare and tender sonne 
36 for succour did to cornewall turne. 

Then Locrine crowned Estrild bright, 

& made of her his lawfull wiffe ; 
with her ■which was his harts delight, 
40 he thought to lead a pleasant liffe. 
thus Guendoline, as once 5 fforlorne, 
was of her husband held in scorne. 



1 Wace puts her into a deep cellar, 
and keeps her there seven years : 

Par nn, son hon familier, 

Fist a Londre faire un celier, 

Desos terre parfondement ; 

La fu Estril Lien longement : 

Set ans la tint issi Loerin 

Ccleement el sosterin. — Brut, i. 68-9. 

'■ There is a tag at the end in the MS. 
an s. — F. 

Taut i ala et conversa 
Qu' Eslril une fille enfanta. 
Abren ot nom, mult par fu clere 
El plus bile qu' Estril sa mere 
Qui in ill t fu heir el avcnant. 
Wace, Romans </< Brut, i. <>'.». 1. 1 135—9. 



like 

3 



(ed. le Eoux de Lincy, Paris, 1836). 

We have been already assured, at p. 66, 
that Estril's match could not then be 
found : 

mult par fu bele; 
Ne peust, ou nol liu trover 
Plus bele de li, ne sa per. 

4 He was Corineus, the Trojan chief, 
who slew the king of tho giants, Gog- 
gamog, that was, men say, about four ami 
twenty feet long. E. Glo'ster, i. 22. It 
should be remembered of England, thai 
in those days "in this island were 
giants ; no other people dwelt (lure" 
(Wacc,\. 51).— F. 

5 one, Al. Ed.— P. 



KINGE HUMBEK. 



4:5!) 



But when the cornish men did know 
44 the great abuse ' shee did endure, 

with her a number great did goe, 
w7«'ch shee by prayers did procure. 

in battell 2 then they marcht alonge 
48 for to redresse this greeuous wronge, 



The Cornish 
men resolve 
to avenge 
Gwendoline. 



52 



And neere a riuer called store 3 They attack 

Locrin, 

the Kmg with all his host shee mett, 
where both the armyes fought full sore, 

[but then the qu]eene the feild did gett ; defeat him > 

yett ere they did the conquest ga[i]ne, [page 50i] 
the ~King was with an arrow slaine. and km him. 



Then Guendoline did take in hand — 
5G vntill her sonne was come to age — 

the gouer[n]ment of all the Land ; 
& that great ffury to as wage, 

shee did command he[r] 4 souldiers wild 
60 to drowne both Estrill & her child. 



Guendoline 



orders 

Estrilde and 
her girl to 
be drowned. 



G4 



Incontinent then did they bringe 
ffaire Estrild to the riuers syde, 

& Sabrine, daughter to a Kinge, 
whom Guendoline cold not abyde ; 

who, being bound together ffast, 

into the riuer they were cast. 



Estrilde and 
her daughter 

Sabrine 



are cast into 
the river, 



1 A stroke between the s and c in the 
MS.— F. abuse— P. 

2 column, military formation. — F. 

3 La3;imon's account (ed. Madden, i. 
104-5) is: 

MS. Cott. Calig. A. ix. 
& heo to gadero comera '. 
vppen ane watere. 
bat watere oatte Stoure! 
bat t'cilit was swiSe Btwrne, 



inne Dorsete f 
Lorrin dealS kolede. 

MS. Cott. Otho, C. viii. 
and hii to gadere comen i 
vppen one watere. 
Jj;it hatte Steure '. 
bat fdit was swibe sturne. 
inc Dorsete! 
Locrin deab bolcde. 
her al. id.— P. 



440 



KINGE HUMBER. 



which has 
since been 



called 
Severn , 
because 
Sabrine 
was drowned 
there. 



And euer since that riming streame 
68 wherin these Ladyes drowned were, 

is called Seuerne tliroughe the realme, 
because that Sabrine dyed there. 1 

thus 2 they that did to lewdnesse bend, 
72 were brought vnto a wofull end. limiS. 



1 La3amon (cd. Madden i. 105) says: 

ba hehte heo [Gvendolcine] ane heste . . 

bat me sculde bat ilke water f 

ber Abren was adrunken. 

elepien hit Auren ! 

for baune mseidene Abren. 

& for Locrines lufe '. 

be wes hire kine louerd. 

bo het 3eo one heste. 

bat me solde bat ilk water '. 

bar Abren was a-dronke. 

cleopie hit Auren ! 

for fan maide Abrew. 

Ou this passage Sir F. Madden remarks, 
iii. 313: 

" La3amon has here strictly adhered to 
the text of Wace, as we find it in the 
Cotton MS. 

Puis fut l'ewe u ele fut jetee, 
Del nom Abren Avren apelee ; 
Avren, ke de Abren son nom prent, 
A Criste-cherche en mer descent. — f. 28* 

" 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 Gloucester- 
shire, 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 prrccipitari 
in fluvium qui nunc Sahria dicitur. 
Unde contigit quod usque in hunc diem 
appellatum est flumen Britannica lingua 
Sabren [Havreri], quod per corruption em 
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. Keg. 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 1 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 



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 
Reliques (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 
Eitson'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 Rapin, 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 Rome] 
(says Lingard), he again visited the French monarch, and after a 

1 In ihd printed Collection of Old Prince was disasferonly 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 Dallaii is Crimson Velvet, The Clarendon corn- 
entitled "An Kxcelli-nt liallad 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 Frances Daughter, and how the points or Lars. — F. 



442 IN THE DAYES OF 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 Church Historians of England.) 

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 iEtbulwulf, 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 unseendy disputes after their father's death, he com- 
manded a will, or rather a letter of instructions, to be written, &c. &c. 

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 countiy 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 DATES OF OLDE. 443 

ment. The King prevailed on his bishops to excommunicate Baldwin 
for having forcibly cai-ried 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 time ? 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 'Constance 
of Cleveland.'" 



IN : the dayes of old, when faire ffrance did flourish, in days of 

storyes plaine haue ' told, louers felt annoye. 

the "King a daughter had, bewtyous, bright, & a French 

King bad a 
louelye, 2 lovely 

daughter, 
4 which made her ffathcr glad, shee was his onlye 

ioye. 
1 plainly. — O.B. 2 fair and comely. — O.B. 



444 



IN THE DAYES OF OLDE. 



whom an 

English 

Prince 

wooed 
and won. 



This made 
her father 
angry, 



A prince of 1 England came, whose deeds did merit 
fame ; 
lie woed he[r] long, & loe, att last, 
looke 2 what he did requ[i]re, shee granted his de- 
sire ; 
8 their harts in one were linked ffast: 

which, when her ffather proued, luord ! how he was 
moued 
& tormented in his minde ! 
he sought pro 3 to preuent them, and to discontent 
them, 
12 fortune crossed louers kind. 



and lie 
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 of 4 
plesure 
through the Kings disdaine, which, their ioyes w/th- 
stoode, 
the It&clye gott 5 vp close, her iewells & her treasure. 
10 hauing no remorse of state or royall bloode, 

in homelye poore array shee went ffroni court away 

to meete her ioy 6 & harts delight, 
who in a fforrest great, had taken vp 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 bee was robbed, & with ponyards 9 
stabbedd, 
24 vttering many a dying grone. 



The Prin- 
cess, uncon- 
scious, 



The princesse armed by him, and by true desire, 
wandring all the night w/thout dreat 10 att all, 
still vnknowne shee past, in her strange attyre 
23 coming att the last, in the n Ecohes call, 



1 from— O.B. 

« Look.— 0.13. 

3 for.— O.B. 

' barr'd of.— O.B. 



5 lock'd.— O.B. 
8 Love.— O.B. 
' lo.— O.B. 

B Set,— O.B. 



■' a Poniard.— O.B. 

'" Dread. 0.1S. 
11 Within.— O B. 



IN THE DAYES OF OLDE. 



445 



thanks the 
woods for 



harbouring 
her love, 



"you ffaire woods," quoth, slice, "honored may you 
bee ! 
harbouring my harts delight, 
vrhich doth compasse l heere, my ioy & onlye deere, 
32 my trustye ffreind & comelye KniijJtt. 

sweete, I come vnto thee, sweete, I come to woo thee, and promises 

that thou maist not angrye bee. 
for my long delaying, & thy - curteous staying, to make him 

amends for 

36 amends ffor all He make to thee 3 ! " his waiting. 



Passing thus alone through the silent forrest, 

many greeuous grones, 4 sounded in her eares, 5 
Avbere shee heard a man to lament the sorest 
40 that was euer seene, 6 floret by deadlye teares 7 : 
" flarwell my deere," qiioth hee, " whom I must 8 
neuer 9 see ! 
ffbr why, my liffe is att an end ! 
through villanes crueltye, lo 10 ! heere for thee I dye u ! 
44 to show I am a ffaith[f]ull ffreind, 

there 12 I lye a 13 bleeding, while my thoughts are 
feedinge 
on thy u rarest bewtye ffound. 
hard hap that may bee, litle knowes my Ladye 
48 my harts blood Lyes on the ground ! " 



Then she 

hears 

groans, 

a lover 
lamenting, 



bidding 
farewell 



to his 

beautiful 

love, 



W/th that he "-aue a p-rone, w7;/ch 15 did burst in sunder 16 [page 502] 

O o » and then 

all the tender strings of his bleedinge l7 hart. dying, 

shee, which 18 knew bis voice, att his tale did wonder : she knows 

52 all her former ioy, 19 did to greeffe conuert. v,',i ce , 



1 encompass. — O.B. 

1 One stroke too many to the y — 

3 make thee. — O.B. 

1 Many a. grievous Groan. — O.B. 

« Ear.— o.B. 

6 Chance that over came. — O.B. 

' Strife.— O.B. 

8 shall.— 0.1 !. 

;l ISIS, meuer. — F. 

10 MS. to.— F. 



11 For thy sweet sake I dye, 
Through Villians Cruelty. 
'■-' Here. -O.B. 
,3 O.B. omits «.— F. 
" the.— O.B. 
15 that.— O.B. 
Ui break asunder. — O.B. 
17 gentle.— O.B. 
Is who. O.B. 
10 Joys.— O.B. 



-O.B. 



446 



IN THE DAYES OF OLDE. 



runs to him, 



and finds 

him dead. 



She cries 



and exclaims, 



Would God 
I had died 
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, 

and then 
resolves 

not to 
return to 
court, 
but to seek 
service 
somewhere. 



straight shee ran to see, who this man shol[d] ' be 

that soe like her lone did speake, 
& found, when as shee came, her lonely LortZ lay 
slaine, 
56 all 2 smeared in blood wh ich liffe did breake. 

when this deed shee spyed, 3 Lore?, how sore shee 
cryed ! 
her sorrow cannott 4 counted bee. 
her eyes like fountaines runinge, while shee cryed out, 
" my darli[ng !] 5 
60 wold god that I had dyed for thee ! " 

His pale lipps, alas, 20 times shee kissed, 

& his fface did washe, w/th 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 ! " quoth, shee, "speake, faire 9 
prince, to me ! 
one sweete word of comfort giue ! 
lifet vp thy fayre eyes, listen to my cryes ! 
68 thinke in what great greeffe I liue ! " 

all in vaine shee sewed, all in vaine shee vewed, 10 

the princesse Xl liffe was dead l2 and gone, 
there stood shee still mourning, vntill l3 the sunns l4 
approching, 15 
72 & bright day was coming on. 

" In this great 16 distresse," quoth, this royall Ladye, 
" who can now expre[s], what will become of mc ? 
to my ffathers court will I neuer 17 wander, 
76 but some service seeke where I may placed bee." 



1 might.— O.B. 

2 0.13. omits All— F. 

s Which when that she espyed. — O.B. 

4 could not.— O.B. 

s Query the MS. The a or ar is 
blotched, and the g and half the n pared 
away. — F. 

" brinish.— O.B. ■ face.— O.B. 



8 my.— O.B. 

10 wooed.— O.B. 

11 Prince's.— O.B. 

12 iled.— O.B. 

13 Till.— O.B. 

" sums in the MS.— F. 

15 returning;. — P. 

17 Never will I.— O.B. 



" dear.— O.B. 



16 sad.— O.B. 



IN THE DAYES OF OLDE. 447 

& l thus shee made her mone, weeping all alone, » 

all in dread 2 and deadlye ffeare. 
A fforrester all in greene, most comely to be seene, a forester 

80 ranging the woods, 3 did ffind her there, 

round besett with sorrow, " maid, 4 " cjnoth [he, 5 ] " god accosts her. 
morrowe ! 
what hard hap hath brought you heere ? " 
" harder happ did neuer, chance vnto 6 maiden euer. Sheteiis 

rx _ ' him 

84 heere lyes slaine my brother deere ! h «" brother 

^ * lies slain, 

" where might I be placed, gentle forster, tell mee, and asks 

m him 

where shall 7 I procure a service in my neede '? where she 

A •* can get 

paines I will 8 not spare, but will doe my dutye ; tak,n int ° 

SGI \ lCt • 

88 ease mee of my care, helpe my extreme neede ! " 

the fforrester all amazed, att 9 her bewtye gazed The forester 

till his hart was sett on ffire : Mis ™ i°ve 

with her, 

" if, ffaire mayd," quoth hee, " you will goe with mee, 
92 you shall haue your harts desire." 

he brought her to his mother, & aboue all other takes her 

to his 

he sett fforth this maydens praise. mother, 

long; was his hart inflamed, att last 10 her loue he gains her 

° ' love, 

gained : 
90 thus did fortune u his glory raise; 

Thus vnknowen he macht, with a 12 Kmos ffaire .and so 

marries a 

children 7 shee 13 had ere shee told the same." she bears 

II 1 111 seven 

but when he vnderstood, shee was a royall princesse, 
100 by this meanes att last, hee shewed forth her i; 
fame : 



children, 

and i lien 
tells him 
who she is. 



Whilst.— O.B. ■ On.— O.B. 

In this deep.— O.B. I0 length.— O.B. 

wood.— O.B. " So Fortune did.— O.B. 

Fair Maid.— O.B. ,2 the.— O.B. 

quoth he.— P. & O.B. ''< he.— O.B. 

to. — O.B. " to him was known. — O.B. 

might.— O.B. ,3 ? MS. ther with the t blotched out. 

will I.— O.B. — F. her.— O.B. 



448 



IN THE DAYES OF OLDE. 



He dfesses 
his children 
in cloth of 
gold on the 
left side, 
wool on tho 
right. 



The King 
of France 
comes 

to the forest 
to hnnt, 



he clothed his children then, not like to other men, 

in p«rtye conlors strange to see ; 
the left l side, cloth of gold ; the right 2 side, now 3 
behold, 
104 of wollen cloth still fframed hee. 

men heratt 4 did wonder, golden fame did thunder 5 

this strange deede in euery place. 
the Km<7 of ffrance came thither, being pleasan[t] 6 
whether, 
108 in the 7 woods the harts 8 to chase. 



and the 
children 
are placed in 
his way, 
with the 
mother in 
velvet, 
the father in 
grey. 

The King 
asks him 
how he dares 
dress his 
wife and 
children so. 



" Because 
their mother 
is a prin- 
cess," 



The children then 9 did stand, as their father 10 willed, 

where the royall K.ing must of force come by, 
their mother richly clad, in faire crimson u veluett, 
112 their ffather all in gray, comelye 12 to the eye. 
then the l3 famous Ki«f/, noting euery thinge, 

did aske "how hee durst be soe bold 
to let his wiffe to weare, & decke his children the[re,] 
116 in costly robes of cloth, of 14 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 gold 18 
w<'th other, 
120 being by birth a princesse 19 gay." 



The King 



The Kvng vpon these words, more needfully beheld 
them, 
till a crimson blush his conceipt did crosse : 



» Eight— O.B. 




11 MS. crinson. — F. 


2 Left.— O.B. 




12 Most comely.— O.B. 


3 to.— O.B. 




13 When this.— O.B. 


* thereat— O.B. 




11 of Pearl and.— O.B. 


6 MS. thinder.— F. 




15 boldly reply'd.— O.B. 


6 The t is put on by a later hand. 


-F. 


18 And to.— O.B. 


7 these.— O.B. 




17 he thus did.— O.B. 


h Eart. O.B. 




18 Cloaths.— O.B. 


:i there.— O.B. 




18 Only half the n in the MS. 


1,1 Motlior.— O.B. 







-F. 



IN TIIE DATES OF OLDE. 



449 



" the more," q?<oth liee, " I looke [ on thy wiffe & 
Children, 
124 [The more I call to mind the Daughter whom I 
lost."] 2 
"I am that child," q?«oth shee, falling on her knee ; 

" pardon mee, my soueraine leege ! " 
the Kmg perceitdng this, did his daughter 3 kisse, 
128 & 4 ioyfull teares did stopp his speech. 

with his traine he turned, & with them 5 soioumed ; 

straight hee dubd her husband knight, 
then 6 made him Erie of fflanders, one of his cheefe 
com?nanders : 
132 thus was his sorrow 7 put to might. ffillis. 



says the 
mother 
must be 

his lost 
daughter. 



[page 503] 
She owns 
that she is. 

He kisses 
her, 



knights 
her husband, 

and makes 
him Earl of 
Flanders. 



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. 
s her.— O.B. 

6 He.— O.B. 

7 were their Sorrows.- 



-O.B. 



VM|,. III. 



G Q 



450 



Amintas is here chicled 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 OZnone's mouth, or rather assigns 
to her pen, in his Fifth Heroid : 

Incisas servant a te mea nomina fagi, 

Et legor (Enone falce notata tua ; 
Et quantum trunci, tantum mea nomina crescunt. 

Crescite et in titulos 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 spiraro relicta, 

Ad fontem Xanthi versa recurret aqua.' 
Xanthe, retro propera, versseque recurrite lymphse, 

Sustinet (Enonen deseruisse Paris. 



One hot day, 
Amintas 



drove bis 
flocks to 
water, 



and heard 



AMINTAS, on a summers day 

to shunn Apolloes beames, 
went drilling of his fflockes away 

to tast some cooling streames. 
and through a fforrest as hee went, 

neere to a rhier side, 
a voice w7i/ch from a groue was sent, 

invited him to abyde : 



An old Song not inelegant or unpoetical. — P. 



AMINTAS. 



4.31 



A voice well seeming l to bewraye 

a discontented mind, 
ffor offtentinies I hard liim 2 say, 
12 10000 times, " vnkinde ! " 

the remnant 3 of this ragged mone 

wold not escape my eare 
till euery sigh brought fforth a grone, 
1G & euery sobb a teare. 

But leauing her vnto her-selfe ; — 

in sorrowes, sighes, & mone, 
I heard a deadly discontent : 
20 these 2 brake fforth att one : 
" Amintas ! is my loue to thee 

of such 4 small account, 
that thou disdainest to looke on mee, 
24 & loue as thou was wont ? 

" How often 5 didest thou protest to me, 

' the heauens shold turne to naught, 
the sunn shold ffirst obscured bee, 
28 ere thou wold change thy thought ! ' 
but heauens, be you dissolued quite ! 

sunn, show thy fface no more ! 
ffor my Amintas, hee is lost, 
32 a ! woe 6 is me therffore ! 

" How oft didst thou ingraue our names, 

neere to the rocke of 7 Bay ? 
still wishing that our Loue shold haue 
36 no worse successe then they. 

but they in groues still 1 nippy proue, 

& fflourish doc the still, 
■whiles I [in 8 ] sorrow doe remaine, 
40 still wanting of my will. 



complain- 
ing, 

Oh unkind ! 



A girl 

broke forth 
" Amintas! 



Why dost 
thou disdain 
me? 



Alas! 

Amintas is 
lost to me. 



I live in 
sorrow, and 
want my 
love. 



1 MS. seemimg. — F. 

* it.— P. 

3 MS. rennant. — F. 

' [insert] a. — P. 



* oft did'st, as in line 33. — Dyeo. 
« All! woe.— P. 

7 r>n P. 



on. 
in.- 



-P. 



i: Q 2 



452 

False man, 



tlion hast 
broken thy 
promise, 

and left me 
alone 



to end my 
days in 
woe." 



AMINTAS. 

" ffalse, forsworne, & ffathelesse man! 

disloyall in thy loue ! 
thou hast fforgott thy promises, 
44 and dost vnconstant proue. 
& thou hast [left '] me all alone 

in this woefull distresse, 
to end my dayes in heauinesse, 
48 -which well thou might redresse." 



She breathed 
her last, 



and died for 
love. 



And then shee sate vpon the ground, 

her sorrowes to deplore ; 
but after this was neuer seene 
52 to sigh nor sobb noe more. 

And thus in loue as shee did Hue, 

soe ffbr loue shee did dye 2 ; 
a ffairer creature neuer man 
56 beheld with morttall eye. 

ffinis. 



1 left.— P. 



Shee for her love did.— P. 



453 



ntitfttge ot Calrs, 1 

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 Raleigh, Sir Francis Vere, Sir Greorge Carew, Sir 
Coniers 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 Avar 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 the Under the Lord Admiral Howard, & 
"Winning of Cadiz— on June 2l" 1 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 (a/pud 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." 



[page 504] 
The proud 
Spaniards 
boasted 
they'd 
conquer us. 



.LONG : the proud Spamyareds had van-ted to 
quer vs, 

threatning l our Country with, flyer & 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 ! 



con- 



But Howard 



and Essex 



To the seas presentlye went our Lord Admirall, 

with knights 2 couragyous, & captaines ffull good ; 
The Erie of Essex, a prosperous generall, 

with him prepared to passe the salt ftloode. 
dub a dub &c. 



set sail from 
Plymouth, 



12 Att plimmouth speedilye, tooke they shipp valliantly 
brauer shipps neuer weere seene vnder sayle, 
With their flay re colours spread, & streamers ore their 
hea[d]. 
now, bragging spanyards, take heede of yo?<r taylc ! 
16 dub &c. 



Ono stroke too few in the MS. — F. 



2 Knights.— P. 



AYININGE OF CALES. 455 

Vnto calcs ' cuninglye came wee most speedylye, and 

anchored at 
where the "Kings 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, The 

Spaniards 

which, att that season was made in that place ; hurried to 

and fro, 

the beacons were ffyered, as need then required ; and lighted 

24 to hyde then* great treasure they had litle space. beacons. 

There you miedit see then- shipps, how they were fibred we fired 

J ° iL ' J their ships, 

ffast, 
& 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 Somt Mathew, and took 

their St. 

32 wee tooke in flight manfullye, & brought them Andrew. 
away. 

The Erie of Essex most vallyant and hardy, Essex 

w/th horsemen & ffbotmen marched toward the marched 

with our 
towne. army to the 

Ihc spanyards which, saw them, were greatly affrighted, 
36 did fliye ffor their sauegard, & durst not come 
dow[ne.] 

"Now," quoth the Noble Erie, "courage, my soul- 
diers all ! 
flight and be vallyant ! they 2 spoylc you shall liaue, 
& [be 3 ] well rewarded from they 4 great to the Bmall ; 
40 but looke that women & Children you saue." 

' So they called Cadiz in Queen 2 the. — P. 3 be. P. 

Elizabeth's Time— P. * the.— P. 



456 



WININGE OF CALES. 



The 

Spaniards 

surrendered, 



we put our 
colours on 
their walls, 



44 



The spanyards att that sight though [t] in vaine twas 
to fight, 

hunge vpp fflaggs of truce, 1 yeelded the towne. 
wee marcht in presentlye, decking the walls on hye 

with, our English coulours, -which, purchast renowne. 



plundered 
their houses, 



48 



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], 
meate att the Aire rosting, & ffolkes filed away. 



and took 
their fair 
satins and 
velvets. 



52 



fiull of rich merchandize euery shop wee did see, 
damaskes, & sattins, & veluetts, fiull ffaire, 

which souldiers mesured out by the lenght of their 
swo[rds.] 
of all comodytyes eche one had a share. 



And when 

our 
prisoners 



Thus cales was taken, & our 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 



wouldn't 
pay their 
ransom, 

we burnt 
their town 



and marcht 
away. 



GO 



When our braue general! saw they delayed time, 
& wold not ransome their towne, as they said; 

with their faire wainescotts, their presses & bedstecds, 
their ioyned stooles & tables, a ffire were made. 

& when the towne burned all in a fiiame, 

with ta-ra, tan-ta-ra, away wee came ! ffinis. 



[insert] &.— P. 



2 fami'd, Rhythmi gratia,— P. 



457 



e&foarti t&e tbirtu 1 

Copies of this ballad occur in the Garland of Good Will, the Col- 
lection of 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, 
12 mo. 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 study, 
(and she sayd) dere syr, why do ye study so for, your grace nat 
dyspleased, it aparteyneth nat to you so to do : rather ye shulde 
make good chere and be ioyfull, seyng ye haue chased away your 
enmies, who durst nat abyde you : let other men study for the 
remynant ; than the kyng sayd, a, dere lady, knowe for trouthe, that 
Byth I entred into the castell, ther is a study co?/ie to my mynde, so 
thai I can nat chuse but to muse, nor I can nat tell what shall fall 
therof, put it out of my herte I can nat : a sir, quoth the lady, ye 
ought aJwayes to make good chere, to confort therwith your peple : 
god hath ayded you so in your besynes, and hath gyuen you so great 
graces, that ye be the nioste douted and honoured prince in all 
christendome, ami if the kyng of scottes haue done you any dyspyte 

1 In the printed Collection of old Ballads 172G, 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 dyuerse tymes or this ; sir, leave your musyng and come 
into the hall, if it please you, your dyner is all redy ; a, fayre lady, 
quoth the kyng : other thynges lyeth at my hert that ye knowe nat" 
of : but surely the swete behauyng, the perfyt wysedom, the good 
grace, noblenes, and exellent beauty, that I se in you, hath so sore 
surprised my hert, that I can nat but loue you, and without your loue 
I am but deed : than the lady sayde, a, ryght noble prince, for 
goddessake mocke nor tempt me nat : I can nat byleue that it is true 
that ye say, nor that so noble a prince as ye be, wold thynke to 
dyshonour me, and my lorde, my husbande, who is so valyant a 
knight, and hath done your grace so gode seruyce, and as yet 
lyethe in prison for your qnarell ; certenly sir, ye shulde in this case 
haue but a small prayse, and nothyng the better therby : I had neuer 
as yet such a thought in my hert, nor I trust in god neuer shall haue, 
for no man lyueng ; if I had any suche intencyon, your grace ought 
nat all onely to blame me, but also to punysshe my body, ye and by 
true iustice to be disnienibred : 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 you to come into the hall, your knightes abideth 
for you to wasshe, ye haue 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 but lytell, he sat sty 11 musyng, and as he durst, 
he cast his eyen vpon the lady : of his sadnesse his knyghtes had 
maruell, for he was nat acustomed so to be ; some thought it was 
bycause the scottes were scaped fro hym. All that day the kyng 
taryed ther, and wyst nat what to do : somtjme he ymagined that 
honour and trouth defended him to set his hert in such a case, to 
dyshonour such a lady, and so true a knyght as her husband was, 
who had alwayes well and truely serued hym. On thother part, loue 
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 boost, and 
drewe after the scottes, to chase them out of his realme. Than he 
toke leaue of the lady, sayeng, my dere lady, to god I commende you 
tyll I returne agayne, requiryng you to aduyse you otherwyse than 
ye haue sayd to me : noble prince, quoth the lady, god the father 
glorious be your conduct, and put you out of all vylayne thoughtes : 
sir, I am, and euer shal be redy to do your grace seruyce to your 
honour and to myne ; therwith the kyng departed all abasshed. 



EDWARD THE THIRD. 



459 



Not long afterwards, when the king held his Round 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 " sleight of fine advice," by which the countess in the 
following ballad saves her own and the king's honour, is admira- 
bly told. 



WHEN : as Edward the 3'- 1 did line, that vallyant 

~King, 
david of Scottland to rebell did then begin ; 
the towne of Barwicke suddenlye fFrom vs he woone, 
& burnt Newcastle to the ground : thus strife begun, 
to Rose-bury l 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, 
[The Noble and Famous Earl of Salisbury.] 2 



In Edward 
III.'s time, 



David II. of 
Scotland 
took 
Berwick, 

burnt New- 
castle, 



and besieged 
Lady 

Salisbury in 
Rosebury 
Castle. 



Braue Sir william Montague rode then in post, 3 [page 5051 

12 who declared vnto the K/»^y the Scottishmeushoast; brought to 

who like a Lyon in a rage did straight- way prepare and ho' ' 

ffor to deliuer that wocfull 4 Lady from wofull care, marohnorth, 

but when the Scottishmen did heare say on wh \ r]l 

10 "Edward our king was comen 5 that day, raise the 



1 Roxbury — O.B. 

2 0.15. The Line is pared away in the 
MS.— F. 



3 haste.— O.B. 
' fair.— O.B. 



come. 



O.B. 



460 



EDWARD THE THIRD. 



siege ami 
run away, 



so that the 
Lady 

alone meets 
Edward. 

ITe falls in 
love with 
her. 



She thanks 
him for 
frightening 
her foes. 



the raised tlieir seege, & ran away with speede, 1 
soe that when he did thither come 
with warlike trumpett, ffiffe, & drum, 
20 none but a gallant Lady did him meete 2 ; 

who 3 when hee did with greedy eyes behold & see, 
her peereles bewtye straight 4 inthralld 5 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 from her gate. 
28 " Lady," quoth, he, " stand vp in peace, 
although my warr doe now increase." 
" Lore?, keepe," quoth, shee, " all hurt ffrom jour 
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." 

" Swear 

that," says 
Edward. 



Now is the Kmg 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 bcene wronged, faire dame," q«oth hee, 
36 " since I came hither vnto thee." 

" no, god forbid, my souerainge ! " shee sayd 10 ; 
" if I were worthy for to know 
the cause & ground of this jour woe, 
40 itt n shold be helpet if itt did Lye in mee. 12 " 

" Sweare to performe to me thy words, thou Lady 

gay; 

to thee the sorrow of my hart I will bewray. 13 " 



1 Fear.— O.B. 
8 met he there. — 
3 whom. — O.B. 
1 <li,l. — O.B. 
• i nthrall.— O.B. 
,; State.— O.B. 



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 TIIIRD. 461 

" I sweare by all the Sormts in heauen I will," qwoth she swears, 
shee, 
44 " & lett my Lord liaue no mistrust at all in me." 

" Then take thy selfe asyde," he sayd ; and the 

quoth hee, 1 "thy bewtye hath betray d "Youharo 

& wounded 2 a \ing w/th thy bright shining eye ; me ; 

48 if thou doe then some mercy show, , snow me 

thou shalt expell a princes woe ; mercy, or 

soe shall I liue, or else in sorrow dye." I shall die." 

"you haue you[r] wish, my souemne Lore?, effect- 
ual lye : 
52 take all the loue 3 that I may 4 giue yo?tr maiestye." "igiye 

J & J J you all the 

" but in 5 thy bewtye all my woes 6 haue their abode." love l ma x" 
" take then 7 my bewtye from my face, my gracyous 

LorfZ." 
" didst thou not sweare to grant my will ? " " But .grant 

° J my will, 

56 " all 8 that I may, I will fulfill." 

" then 9 for my loue let thy 10 true loue be scene." love me," 

says the 

" my Lore?, yo«r speech I might reproue ; King, 

you cannott giue to me yo?tr loue, 
60 ffor that alone u belongs vnto yo«r queene : 

" But I suppose yowr grace did this onlye to trye « You are 
whether a wanton tale might tempt Dame SALSB?m/e; tempt me," 
Nor 12 ffrom yo?(r selfe therfore, my leege, my stepps Salisbury. 

" I go from 
doe stray, your tempt- 

i i t ' n 2 talk." 

64 but from yo«r tempting wanton 13 tale I goe my way." 
" O turne againe, thou 14 Lady bright ! 
come vnto me, my hartcs delight ! 



1 For why.— O.B. 8 O.B. omits all.— F. 

2 Wounding.— O.B. ° All then.— O.B. 

3 Leave.— O.B. '" my.— O.B. 

4 can. — O.B. " O.B. omits alone. — F. 

5 on.— O.B. '- Not.— O.B. 

6 Joys. — O.B. ' 3 wanton tempting. — O.B. 

7 thou.— O.B. " my.— O.B. 



462 



EDWARD THE THIRD. 



Lord 

Warwick, 

the 

Countess's 

father, 



asks Edward 
why he is 
grieved. 



" I adore 

your 

daughter." 



" I'll per- 
suade her to 
yield to 
you." 



Warwick 



meets his 
daughter, 



tells her the 
King is 

[page 506] 
dying for 
her love, 
and urges 
her to grant 
it. 



gone is the comfort of my pensiue hart. 
68 heere comes the Erie of warwicke, hee 
the father of this faire Ladye ; 
my mind to him I meane for to impart." 

" why is my ~hord & soueraine l soe greened in mind ? " 
72 " becanse that I hane lost the thing I cannott find." 
" what thing is that, my gracyons LorcZ, that 2 you 

haue lost ? " 
" itt is my heart, w7ii'ch. is neare dead twixt 3 ffire & 

frost." 
" enrst be the 4 ffire, & ffrost too, 
76 that canseth s this jour hynesse woe ! " 

" O warwicke ! thou dost wrong me wonderous 6 sore. 
It is thy daughter, Noble Erie ; 
that heauen-bright lampe, that peereles pearle, 
80 -which kills my hart ; yett I doe 7 her adore." 

" If that be all, my gracyous [Lord,] 8 that workes 
jour greefe, 

I will perswade the scornefull dame to yeelde releefe. 

neuer shall shee my daughter be if slice refuse ; 
84 the loue & ffauor of a king may her excuse." 

thus why lye 9 warwicke went his way, 10 

& quite contrary he did say 

when as hee did the bewtyous countesse meete : 
88 "well mett, my daugheter deere, 11 " quoth hee, 
" a message I must doe to thee : 

our royall 'King most kindlye [doth thee greete ; ] 

The Kmg will dye vnlesse to him thou grant 12 thy 
loue." 
92 "to loue the King, my husbands loue I shall 13 remoue." 



1 Sovereign King. — O.B. 

2 Which.— O.B. 

8 Betwixt.— O.B. 
' that,— O.B. 
5 caused. — O.B. 



s King.— O.B. 



very. 



-O.B. 



» do I.— O.B. 



wise. — O.B. 

10 away.— O.B. 

11 then.— O.B. 

12 less thou to him Do grant. — O.B. 

13 must.— O.B. 



EDWARD THE THIRD. 463 

" It is right chary tye to loue, my daughter deere." 
"but not l true loue, soe 2 chary table to 3 appearc." 
" his greatnesse may beare out the blame. 4 " she refuses : 

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 ! " she win be 

" but not my 7 honestye to yeeld, I- wis ; true to her 

husband. 

100 I meane to dye a true vnspotted wiffe." 



" Now hast thou spoken, my daughter deere, as I Warwick 

approves her 
wold hatl[e] ; answer: 

chastity beares a golden name vnto her 8 graue ; 
& when vnto 9 thy wedded hord thouproues vntrue, 
104 then lett my bitter cursses still thy soule pursue. would curse 

J J x her if she 

then w*'th a smiling cheere goe thou, were untrue. 

as right & reason doth allowe, 

yett show the ~King thou bearest no strumpetts she must 

show the 
minde." King she's 

no strumpet. 

108 "I goe, deere ffather, with 10 a trice ; 

& with 1 1 a sleight of nine deuice she says 

° shell 

He cause the Kmq 12 conffesse that I am kind. 13 " bring him 

J round. 



" Heere comes the Lady of my liffe ! " the Kmg did 

say. 
112 "my ffather bidds me, soueraigne Lore?, yo«r will 

obay, 
and I consent if you will grant one boone to mec." 1!"^"* 
" I grant itt thee, my Lady ffaire, what-ere itt bee ! " ^5d fa^him 
" my husband is aliue, you know ; her kill her 



116 ffirst lett mec kill him ere I goe, 



lni-liaml. 



i no.— O.B. 2 O.B. omits soe.— F. 8 the.— O.B. 

3 For to.— O.B. " to. O.B. 

1 Shame. O.B. "' in.— O.B. 

■ Blame.— O.B. " by.— O.B. 

" move this. O.B. '-' King to. aB. 

i thy. — O.B. '• confess I'm not unkind. O.B. 



464 



EDWARD THE THIRD. 



" But he is 
in France." 
" No, in my 
breast:" 



120 



& att your commande ffor euer will I bee ' ! ' 
" thy husband now in ffrance doth rest." 
" noe, noe ! hee lyes within my brest ; 

& being soe nye, 2 hee 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." 



with, that shee started ffrom the King, & tooke her 

kniffe, 
& desperattly shee thought to rydd her selfe of liffe. 
the King vpstarted 3 ffrom his chayre her hand to 
stay: 
124 " noble King, you haue broke your word with me 
this day." 
" thou shalt not doe this deed," quoth hee. 
" then will I neuer 4 lye with thee." 
" now Hue thou 5 still, & lett me beare the blame ; 
128 Hue thou 6 in honour & in 6 high estate 
with thy true LorcZ & wedded mate ! 
I will neuer 7 attempt this suite againe." ffinis. 



1 I will ever be. — O.B. 

2 MS. mye.— F. 

3 he started.— O.B. 

4 never will I. — O.B. 



5 No ; then live.— O.B. 

6 O.B. omits thou and in. 

7 never will. — O.B. 



465 



Ste ytt cam* tvom t\)t Jjolpe 

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 con- 
cluding 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 Lincoln 
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 run- 
away 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. III. n n 



466 AS TEE CAME FROM THE HOLYE. 

woman's love is ever capricious and veering ; whereas the 

genuine passion 

is a durable fire 
In the mind ever burning, 
Ever sick, never dead, never cold, 
From 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!" 

"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's 1 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 Book of Tablature, 1596, 
&c. It is called 'Walsingham,' '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 bad 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 
lie visited Our Lady's Church, famous for miracles; and made 
his prayers and vows for help and deliverance; and in the fol- 
lowing 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 be his good speed, Christ his foes to quell 
Send him help in time of need, and to come home well. 

"In Nashe's 'Have with you to Saffron-Walden,' 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 Thillis, 

Ami 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 
sinking 'Walsingham ' and whistling 'John come kiss me now.'" 

Perhaps the most interesting picture of this once popular resort 

H n 2 



4G8 AS YEE CAME FROM THE JIOLYE. 

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, 
fur 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, " divuni 
Jacobum Compostellanum, et hinc reversus Virginem 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 milii legnum 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." 
'• 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. Nam Apostoli, inquam ? 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 tem- 
pore, 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 Virgini ; 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 Virginia. Ego cuncta diligenter circumspiciens 
rogabam quot essent anni quod ea domuncula fuisset eo depor- 
tata; dixit aliquot secula. Alioqui parietes, inquam, non pra3 se 
ferunt aliquid vetustatis. Non repugnabat. Ne columna? quidem 
ha? ligneoe : non negabat esse nuper positas et res ipsa loquebatur. 
Deinde hsec, inquam, tecti culraea arundineaque materia videtur 
esse recentior. Assentiebatur. Ac ne trabes quidem hoe, inquam, 
transversa^ nee ipsa tigna qua? culmos sustinent videntur ante 
multos annos posita. Annuebat. Atqui cum jam nulla casse 
pars superesset : Unde igitur constat, inquam, banc 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 tam manifestum argumentum non haberemus oculos. 
Itaque persuasi, et tarditatis culpam deprecati, vertimus nos ad 
cceleste lac Beatae Virginis." 

"Among other superstitions belonging to the place," says a 
writer in Chambers's Booh of Days, " was one that the Milky 
AVay pointed directly to the home of tbe 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 Henry 



470 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, pilgri- 
mages 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 be guide to my muse ? 
Then thou Prince of Walsingam , 

graunt me to frame 
Bitter plaintes to rewe thy wronge, 

bitter wo for thy name. 

Bitter was it, oh ! to see 

The seely sheepe 
Murdred by the raueninge wolues 

While the sheephardcs did sleep ! 
Bitter was it, oh ! to vewe 

the sacred vyne, 
Whiles the gardiners plaied all close. 

rooted vp 1 y the swine. 

Bitter, bitter, oh! to behould 

the grasse to growe 
Where the walles of Walsingam 

so statly did sheue. 



AS YEE CAME FROM THE UOLYE. 471 

Such were the workes 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 waies vnknowen 
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 our Ladie sate, 

heauen turned is to hell ! 
Sathan sittes wher our Lord did swaye 

Walaingham, oh ! farewell ! 
finis. 
' Earl of Arundel MS. ' among Bawlinson MSS. 



"AS : yee came ffrom the holy Land 
of walsingham, 

mett you not wt'th my true loue Did you not 

i i.i o ■>■> meet m y 

4 by the way as you came r love, as you 

pn nig *) 

" how shold I know your true loue, 1 

that haue mett many a one 
as I came ffrom the holy Land, 
8 that haue come, that haue gone ? " 

" Shee is neither white nor browne, she is fair as 

i . .in ,r. • the heavens, 

but as the heauens naire ; 
there is none hathe their 2 fforme dmine 
12 on the earth or the ayre." 

1 The MS. makes the verses of 8 lines. — F. 2 her, Qu— P. 



472 



AS TEE CAME FROM THE IIOLYE. 



but has left 
me here all 
alone, 



because I 
am old. 



Love is 

never fast, 
but fickle, 



lost with a 
toy. 



"No, true 
Love burns 
ever, turns 
never.'' 



" such, a one did I meete, good S/r, 

with, 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 loned 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 ffast ; 

" his desire is ffickle, ffond, 

& a trusties ioye ; 
he is won with, a world of dispayre, 
36 & lost with a toye. 

such is the [fate of all man] ' kind, 

Or the word loue abused, [page ;;07] 

vnder 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." iimis. 



1 MS. pared and broken away. — F. ? read [way of woman]. — Skeat. 



473 



%t offrirud : x 

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 after- 
wards of Mercia, and his wife Grodiva. The UEstoire de Seint 
jEdivard 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 Annates (he says, " dei cultrix et sanctge Maria? 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 the close of the twelfth 
century : 

De dicta quoque Godiva Comitissa quas ecclesiam de Stowe sub 
promontorio Lincoln ire, et multas alias construxerat, legitur, quod 
dura ipsa Goventreiam a gravi servitute et importabili tolneto liber- 
are affectasset, Leofricum Comiteiu virum suum sollicitavit, ut sanctaa 
Trinitatis Deique genitricis Maria) intuitu, villain a praedicta solveret 
servitute. Prohibuit Comes ne de cetero rem sibi dampnosam inauiter 
postularet. Ilia nichiloitiinus virum indesinenter de petitione praa- 
raissa exaspcrans, tale responsum ab eo demum extorsit. Ascende, 
inquit, oquum tuum, et nuda a villai initio usque ad finera populo 
congregato equites, et sic postalata cum redieris impetrabis. Tunc 
Godiva Deo dilecta equum nuda asccndrns, ac capitis criues et tricas 
dissolvens, totum corpus prater crura inde velavit. Itinere corapleto 
a, nomine visa ad virum iraudcns est re versa, undo Leofricus Coven- 
treiam a servitute et malis custumis et exactionibus liberavit, et cartam 

1 In the printed Collection of Old Ballads 1726. Vol. 2. p. 84. X.v. P. 



474 LEOFFRICUS. 

suam inde confectain sigilli sui munimine roboravit, de quo adbuc 
isti pauperes mercatores ad villam accedentes plenarie sunt experti. 

Matthew of Westminster, some hundred years after the Abbot 
of Joreval, gives the following version : 

Ha?c aut'em comitissa religiose villam Conventrensem a gravi servi- 
tute ac turpi liberare affectans, saspius comitem virum suum magnis 
precibus rogavit, ut sanctae Trinitatis, sanctseque genetricis Dei 
intuitu, villain a prasdicta absolveret servitute. Cumque conies illam 
increparet, quod rem sibi damnosam inaniter postularet, probibuit 
constanter, ne ipsum super bac 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 villae, ab initio usque ad finem, 
populo congregato, et cum redieris, quod postulas, impetrabis. Cui 
comitissa respondens, ait : Et si hoc facere voluero, Hcentiam mihi 
dabis ? Ad quam comes, Dabo, inquit. Tunc Godyva comitissa, 
Deo dilecta, die quadam, ut praadictum 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 prsefata servitute liberans civitatem, 
chartam suam inde factum sigilli sui munimine roboravit. 



& 



Higden, some half century afterwards, says briefly : 

Ad jugem quoque instantiam uxoris sua? urbem suam Coventrensem 
ab omni tolneto praaterquam 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." 



LEOFFRICUS. 



475 



111 our own age the story has been gracefully and refined ly told 
by Leigh Hunt, and in an incomparable manner by Tennyson. 

There is then, extant, no narrative of the gentle Godiva'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 
had so signally testified her affection for them. This is the 
earliest reference to the story. 



LeOFFRICUS the l noble Erie 

of Chester, as I read, 
did ffor the cittye of couentrye 
4 many a noble deede ; 

great priuiledges for the towne 

this noble-man did gett, 
of all things did make itt soe, 
8 that they tole ffree did sitt, 

sane onlye that for horsses still 
they did some custome paie, 
which, was great charges to the towne 
12 ffull long & many a day. 

wherfore. his wifFe, Godiua 2 ffaire, 

did of the Erie request 
that therfore 3 he wold make itt ffree 
16 as well as all the rest. 



Leoffricus 
Earl of 
Chester 



made the 
city of 
Coventry 



toll-free, 



except a 
horse -tax. 



This his wife 
Godiva 
asked him 
to take off ; 



1 that. — O.B. The first two linos are written as one in the MS. — F 

2 Godina.— O.B. 8 thereof.— O.B. 



476 



LEOFFRICUS. 



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 l had sued, 

her purpose to obtaine, 
att last her noble Ijord 2 shee tooke 
20 within 3 a pleasant vaine, 

& vnto him w<'th smiling cheere 

shee did fforthwith proceede, 
in treating greatly that hee wold 
24 performe that godlye 4 deede. 

" you moue me much, ffaire dame," 5 quoth, hee, 

" jour suite I ffaine wold shunn ; 
but what wold 6 you performe & doe, 
28 to haue the 7 matter done ? " 



" Anything 
in reason," 
she says. 



"Wen if 
you'll do 
what I 
ask you. 
I'll take off 
the tax." 



" I'll do it," 
she says. 



"Then strip, 



and ride 
naked 

through the 
town." 



"why, any thing, my LojtZ," q?wth shee, 

"you will wrth reason craue, 
I will performe itt with good will 
32 if I my wish may 8 haue." 

" if thou wilt grant one 9 thing," he said, 

" w7ii'ch I shall now require ; 
soe 10 soone as itt is ffinished, 
36 thou shalt haue thy desire." 

"command what you thinke good, my Jjord ; 

I will ther-to agree 
on that condityon, that this u towne 
40 in all things l2 may bee ffree." 

" if thou wilt stripp thy clothes 13 off, 

& heere wilt 14 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. 5 my Fair.— O.B. 
will— O.B. 7 this.— O.B. 

might.— O.B. 



9 the.— O.B. 10 as.— O.B. 

11 the.— O.B. ,2 For ever.— O.B. 

13 but thy Cloaths.— O.B. 
" by me.'— O.B. 

15 The MS. has a tag like s to the 
e. — F. Noon-day. — O.B. 



LEOFFRICUS. 



477 



" they slialbe free for euermore. 

if thou wilt not doe soe, 
more lyberty then now they haue 
48 I neuer will bestowe." 



the Lady att this strange demand 

was much abashet in minde ; 
& yett tfor to fulfill this thing 
52 shee neuer a whitt repinde. 



The 

Countess 

is taken 

aback, 

but does not 

hesitate, 



wherfore to all the ' officers 

of all the towne 2 shee sent, 
that they, perceiuing her good will, 
56 which for their 3 weale was bent, 



and tells the 

town- 

officials 



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 
till shee had ridden [all about] 8 
64 Through all the Cittye cleane. [page 508] 



to order that 

when she 

rides 

through, 

all houses, 

doors, and 

windows 

shall be 

shut, 

so that no 

one may see 

her. 



as 



And when the day of ryding came, 

no person did her see, 
sauing her lord . after which time 

the towne was euer ffree. ffinis. 



She rides. 
None see her. 
The town is 
freed. 



' unto all.— 0.13. 

a Of Coventry.— O.B. 

■ the. — O.B. 

4 and Doors. — O.B. 



s 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. 



[".1 Mayden-heade " and " Tom Longe," printed vn Lo. & Hum. 
Songs, p. 111-13, follow here in the MS. p. 508.] 



478 



frouto h)])tvt tin ^pencCersJ] 1 

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 Intro- 
ductions ; 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 ; 
but 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 Foedera). 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. 1\ 



TROUDE "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 Knio-ht's 
Popular History of England.) 

The ballad alludes but briefly to the end of the tragedy : 

Then was King deposed of his Crown ; 
From 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 ran^ through its roof — 

Shrieks of an agonizing King! 



1 ROUD : -were the Spencers, & of condityons l ill ; The 

all England & the King they ruled «,'n'7u' S iii- 

n • a ji "ii conditioned 

nkwi.se * att their will ; lot, 

1 Condition, in Old Ballads, 3 r .'' ed., all England & the King they ruled 
ii. 62.— F. likwise att their will ; 

2 likewise They ruled. — O.B. Each & many Lords 

couple of lines 2 and 3, 5 and 6, 19 and & nobles of this Land 

20, is written as one in the MS. — F. thron-h their occasion lost their liu- s. 

The true arrangemenl is: & none durst them withstand. 

Proud were the Spencers, The firsl Hue very short; only two ac- 

& of condityons ill ; cents at most; the second, third, and 

fourth lines with three accents. Skeat. 



480 



PBOUDE WHERE THE SrENCERS. 



and the 
cause of 
many nobles' 
deaths. 



They raised 
strife 
between 
King 

Edward and 
his Queen, 



so that she 
was forced 



4 & many Lords & nobles of this ' Land 
through their occassion 2 lost their Hues, 
and none durst them [withstand.] 3 

& 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 wonderous sore, 

& cast with [in] 6 heer present thoughts 
12 some present helpe therfore. 



to escape 
into France. 



The French 
King, her 
brother, 
received her 
well, 



gave her 
leave to 
raise men, 
and 
promised her 



money. 



then shee requested, 7 with countenance graue & 
sage, 
that shee to Tnomas Beccetts tombe 
might goe on pilgramage. 
16 then being ioyfull to haue that 8 happy chance, 
her sonne & shee tooke shipp with speede, 
& sayled into ffrance ; 

& royally shee was receiued then 
20 by the King & all the rest 

of the peeres & noblemen ; 

and vnto him att lenght 9 shee did expresse 

the cause of her arriuall there, 
24 her greeffe 10 & heauinesse. 

when as her brother her greefe did vnderstand, 

he gaue her leaue to gather men 
out of J ' his ffamous land, 
28 & made his I2 promise to aide her euermore 
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. 
* much.— 0.15. 

5 MS. pared away. Supplied from 
Old Ballads. -F. 

6 within. — O.B. ' requests. — O.B. 



8 the.— O.B. 

■ last,— O.B. 
10 care.— O.B. 
" Throughout.— O.B. 
'- a.— O.B. 

13 ]Sf written over st in the MS. 
need.— O.B. 



TROUDE WHERE THE SPENCERS. 



481 



but when indeed lie shold performe l the same, 
32 lie was as ffarr ffrom doing itt 

as when shee thither came, 

& did proclaime, 2 while matters yett were greene, 3 

that none on paine of death shold goe 
36 to aide the English queene. 



But lie 

afterwards 

broke 

his word, 



and refused 
to let 
men enlist 
for her. 



40 



this alteration did greatly greene the Queene, 

that downe along her comely fface 
they 4 hitter teares were seene. 

when shee pevciued her ffrcinds forsooke her soe, 
shoe knew not, ffor her saftey, 

which way to turne or goe; 



This grieved 
lier greatly, 



but through good happ, att last shee thenn decreede and she took 

44 to Seeke in ffruitfull GeRMANYE Germany, 

some succour in 5 this neede ; 

And to Sir Iohn Henault 6 then went shee, 
who entertained this wofull queene 
48 with great solempnitye ; 



where Sir 

John 

Henault 



& with great sorrow to him shee then complained 

of all the greefe 7 & iniuryes 
which shee of late sustained, 
52 soe that with weeping shee dimnd her princly 
sight, 
the sunn 8 tberof did greatly greefe 
that noble curteous knight, 



who made an othe he wold her champyon bee, 
56 & in her quarrell spend his bloode, 
from wrong to sett her ffree ; 



swore i" be 
her 

champion, 
and fight lor 
her, 



' she did require. — O.B. 

2 MS. proclaine. — P. 

3 whilst matters were so. — O.B. 
* The.— O.B. 

5 to.— O.B. 

VOL. 111. 



u Haioault— O.B. 

7 her Griefs.— O.B. 

8 MS. sunn or smm : ? for eumm, or 
E. E. sm'Hc, sin.— F. sunne not to bo 
thought of. — Dyce. cause. — O.B. 



1 I 



482 



PROUDE WHERE THE SPENCERS. 



with all his 
friends. 



"& all my freinds with whom I may pnuailc, 
shall helpe for to aduance your state, 
60 whose truth no time shall faile." 



He proves 
faithful ; 
sails with 
many lords, 



and lands 
with her at 
Harwich. 



64 



And in this promise, most faithfull he was found, 

& many Lorcfe of great account 
was in this voyage bound. 

soe setting fforward With a goodlye traine, 
att lenght through gods especiall grace 

into England they came. 



Many 
English 
lords join 
her. 



Att Harwich then when they were come a-shore, 1 
68 of English LorcZs & 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. 



Kdward II. 
hears of this, 



and fliss, 



when as King Edward herof did vnders'iand, 
how that the queene with such a power 

was entered on his Land, 

& how his nobles were gone to take her part, 

he ffled from London presentlye ; 
then 4 with a heauye hart, 



with the 
Spencers, 
to Bristol, 



leaving the 
Bishop of 
Kxeter in 
London, 



And Av/th the Spencers, did vnto Bristowe 5 goe, 

80 [To fortify that gallant town,] 6 

Greatt cost he did best[owe ;] [page 510] 

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. 

: < Came for.— O.B. 
4 Even.— O.B. 
•'■ Unto Bristol did.— O.B. 
6 MS. pared away. Lino 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.— P. 



TKOUDE WHEHE THE SPENCEI5S. 



483 



88 



[The Mayor of London, with Citizens great Store, 
The Bishop and the Spencers both 

In Heart they did abhor ; 
Therefore they took him without Fear or Dread, 
And at the Standard in Gheapside 

They soon smote off his Head. 



where the 
citizens 

soon 



cut his 

head ofl', 



[Unto the Queen 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 : 



and tell 

l>:liirl!:l till' 

city is hers. 



She inarches 
to Bristol, 



[Then she besieg'd the City round about, besieges it, 

Threatning sharp and cruel Death, 
To those that were so stout ; 
ICO Wherefore the Townsmen, their Children, and their and it is 
Wives, p* ded '"' 

to licr 

Did yield the City to the Queen 
For Safe-guard of their Lives : 



104 



108 



[Where was took, the Story plain doth tell, 
Sir Hugh Spencer, and with him 

The Earl of Arundel. 
This Judgment just the Nobles did set down, 
They should be drawn and hanged both, 



In Sioht of Bristol Town. 



Sir H. 
Spencer 
and Lord 
Arundel are 
taken , 



112 



[Then was King Edward in the Castle there, 
And Hugh Spencer still with him, 

In Dread and deadly Fear ; 
And being prcpar'd from thence to Sail away, 
The Winds were found contrary, 

Tiny were enforced to stay : 



the King 
and Spencer 



11G 



120 



[But at last Sir John Beaumont, Knight, 
Did brine; his sailing Ship to Shore, 

And so did stay their Flight : 
Ami so these Men were taken speedily, 
And brought as Prisoners to. the Queen, 

Which did in l'.rislnl lie. 



being 
caughl 

they were 

ing by 
ship. 



[The Queen, byCounsel of the Lordsand Barons bo] 
To Barkley sent the King, 

There to be kept in hold : 

i i •_' 



The Queen 
Imprisons 

the Kins.' 



484 



RROUDE "WHERE THE SRENCEKS. 



and has 
Spencer 
carried from 
town to 
town on a 

jade's back, 



124 And young Hugh Spencer, that did much 111 procure, 

Was to the Marshal of the Host 
Sent unto keeping sure. 



128 



132 



[And then the Queen to Hereford took her way, 
With all her warlike Company, 

Wliieh late in Bristol lay : 
And here behold how Spencer was 
From Town to Town, even as the Queen 

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 : 



men playing 
before him. 



Then at 
Hereford 



Spencer is 
hanged and 
quartered, 



[And to deride this Tray tor lewd and ill, 
140 Certain Men with Reeden-Pipes 
Did 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 out Noble 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. 



King 

Edward is 
deposed, 



and ids son 

crowned 

King. 



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.] flinfis.l 



485 



Hinge dBftgar* 1 

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 Mal- 
mesbury. 

There was in his time (says that chronicler) one A th el wold, a 
nobleman of celebrity, and one of his confidants ; him the king had 
commissioned to visit Elfrida, daughter of Orgar, Duke of Devon- 
shire (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 findiug 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 tran- 
scendent 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 mu; 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 
hia wife, entreating that she would administer to his safety by attir- 
ino- herself as unbecomingly as possible; then first disclosing the 
intention of such a proceeding. Bat what did not this woman dare ? 
She Avas 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 ni- 
di 'nation, he sent for the earl into a wood at Warewclle, under 

1 In the printed Collect ion 1726, Vol. 2, p. 25, N. iv.— P. 



486 KINGE EDGAE. 

pretence of hunting, .and ran him through with a javelin. When the 
illegitimate son of the murdered nobleman approached with his ac- 
customed 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 
England. 

Another account is given by Brompton. He narrates how 
A th el wold, after securing, by his deception, the hand of Alfrida, 
as he calls her, persuaded the king to stand godfather to their 
first-born son, " de sacro forte levare," in order that — a spiritual 
affinity (" 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 A th el wold 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 biillad 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 doceive 
Did l>v deceit this death receive, 



KINGE EDGAR. 



487 



says the loyal poet, after describing Athel wold'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. 



12 



16 



20 



WHEN as King Edgar did gouerne this land, 1 

& in the strenght of his yeeres did 2 stand, 

such praise was spread of a gallant dame 

w7u'ch did through England carry great fame, 

& shee a Ladaye of noble 3 degree, 

the Erie of deuonshires daughter was shee. 

the ~K-ing, which had latetly 4 buryed the queene, 

& a long 5 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, 

" I will goe 9 send for that Lady gay ; 

yea, I will send for that l0 Lady bright 

wAi'cli is my treasure and delight, 

whose bewty, like to Phebus beames, 

did n glister 12 through all Christen realmes." 

11 icii to himselfe he wold replye, 

suing, " how fond a prince ,3 am I, 

to cast my loue soe base and Lowe, 

& on 14 a girle I doe not know ! 

Kmg 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 
savs that 
he'll 

send and 
fetch her, 



but then 
thinks how 
stupid he is 
to Call in 
love with a 
low-burn 
girl he has 
never Been. 
He'll find and 
love some 
Princess, 



1 O.B. adds : 

Adown, adown, down, down down: 
and after lino 2, 

Call hi ni down a. — F. 

2 he did.— O.B. 

3 high.— O.B. 

* who lately had. O.B. 
5 not a lung. Printed C- P. 
long.— O.B. 

« O.B. omits had. I'. 



not 



' this Praise of a.— O.B. 

8 mind. Printed C— P. 

9 O.B. omits goe.—Y. 

10 this.— O.B. 

11 doth. Pr"? Copy.— P. 

12 Doth glitter.— O.B. 

13 The IMS. has only one stroke, for the 
w.— F. 

h Upon.— O.B. 

,: ' have. (>.15. 



488 



KINGE EDGAR. 



with a good 
dowry, 
who is more 
beautiful 
thanBstri]d. 
Then he 
thinks 
again, how 
wrong it is 



to abuso 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 lie 
finds her 
beautiful, 



then he's to 
propose to 
her, for 
Edgar. 



the daughter of some l royall King, 

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 vpon a broken reede to leane ? 
& what fond fury doth 4 me moue 
thus to abuse my deerest loue, 
whose visage, gracet with heaucnlye hue, 

32 doth Hellens honor quite subdue ? 
the glory of her bewtyous pride 
[Sweet Estrild's Favour doth deride] 5 
Then pardon m[y unsejemely speech, 6 

36 deere loue & lady, I beseech ! 

& 7 I my thoughts hencforth will 8 frame 
to spread the honore of thy name." 
then vnto him he called a knight 

40 which, was most trusty in his sight, 
& vnto him thus did he 9 say : 
" to Erie Orgarus l0 goe thy way, 
& n aske for Estrilds 12 comely dame, 

44 whose b[e]wty is soe for by 13 fame ; 
& if thou 14 find her comlye grace 
as fame hath 15 spread in euery place, 
then tell her father shee shalbe 

48 my crowned epicene, if shee agree." 



[page 511] 



1 a.— O.B. 
« dainty. — O.B. 
3 Betere were a ryche mon 
For to spouse a god womon 

Thath hue be sum del pore, 
Then to brynge into his hous 
a proud quone ant daungerous, 

That is sum del Lore. 
"Moni mon for londe wyvefh to 
shonde." 
Quoth Hendyng. 
Reliquiee Antiques i. 115. — F. 

" or what did, IV. 1 C— P. & O.B. 
b O.B. MS. pared away, V. sweet 



Estrild's favour doth deride. — P. For 



the original Est rib 



sec p. 4G6-7 above. 



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. 

" Where.— O.B. 

12 Estrild. O.B. 

1:1 went so far for. — O.I>. 



YOU. 

did.- 



O.B. 
O.B; 



KINGE EDGAR. 



489 



the knight in message did proceede, 
& into deuonshire went ' with speede ; 
but when lie saw that 2 Ladye bright, 

52 lie was soc rauisht att her sight, 
lli'ti nothing cold his passyon moue 
except he might obtaine her loue. 
& 3 day & night there while 4 he stayde, 

56 he courted still that 5 peereles mayd ; 
& in his suite hee showed such skill, 
//mi att the lenght woon 6 her good will, 
fforgetting quite the duty tho 

60 w/<<ch hee vnto the kinge did owe. 
then coming home vnto his grace, 
he told him with dissembling face 
that those reporters were to blame 

64 that soe aduanced that 7 maidens name ; 
" for I assure ycrar grace," quoth. 8 hee, 
" shee is as other women bee ; 
her bewtye of such great report, 

68 no better then they 9 common sort, 
& far vnmeet in euery thing 
to mach w/th such a noble Kinge. 
but though her face be nothing ffaire, 

72 yett sith shee is her ffathers heyre, 
perhapps some LorcZ of hye degree 
wold verry glad 10 her husband bee ; 
& u if jour grace wold giue consent, 

76 I cold 12 my selfe be well content 
the damsell for my wife to take, 
for her great Lands & liuings sake." 
the Kmg, whom thus he did deceiue, 



80 



incontinent did giue him leaue ; 



The knight 



and is so 
r:i\ i-hed 
with Estrild, 



that ho 
courts her 
for himself. 



and wins her 
heart. 



Then lie 
goes hack to 
Edgar, and 

tells him 



that Estrild 

is nothing 
particular, 



one of the 
common 
sort, 

quite unfit 
for a King ; 

hut as 

she'll have 
her father's 

lands, 



lie, Ethel- 
w old, \\ ould 
like to 
have her 
himself, for 
her lands. 



Edgar 

consents. 



1 O.B. omits vcnt.—F. 

2 the.- O.K. 
■■> For. O.B. 

4 while there -O.B. 

5 this.— O.B. ° he gain'd. 



o.l', 



tl.-.— O.B. 
said. O.B. 
the. O.B. 
fain.— O.B. 

Then. O.IJ. 



'- would. - O.B. 



490 



KINGE EDGAR 



The knight 
marries 

Estrild, 



and is made 
an Earl. 
Then the 
report of 
her beauty 
reaches 
Edgar, 



who sees 
how he's 
Ik ■en 

cheated out 
of his love, 



but puts a 
good face on 
it. 



One day 
though 



he asks 
Ethelwold 

how he'd 
receive him 
if he paid him 

a visit. 

Ethelwold, 

sad at heart, 

pays, 

" You'd be 

most 

welcome." 



Before the 
King comes, 



for on that poynt he did not stand, 
for why, he had no l need of land, 
then being glad, he went his way, 2 
84 & weded straight that 3 Lady gay; 
the ffairest creature bearing liffe, 
had this ffalse knight to 4 his AviiFe ; 
& by that mach of high degree, 
88 an Erie soone after that was hee. 

ere hee long time bad marry ed beene, 
many 5 bad her bewtye seene ; 
her praise was spread both farr & neere, 
92 soe that they King G therof did heare, 
who then in hart did plainly proue 
he Avas betrayed of his loue. 
though therof 7 he was vexed sore, 
96 yett seemed he not to greeue therfore, 
but kept his countenance good & kind, 
as though hee bore no grudg in minde. ' 
but on a day itt came to passe 
loo Avhen as the King full merry was, 
to Ethelavold in sport hee said 
" I muse Avhat cheere there shold be made 
if to thy house I wold 8 resort 
104 a night or 2 for princely sport." 

heratt the Erie sheAved contenance glad, 9 
though in his hart he was [full sad ;] 10 
And said, 11 " yonr grace s[hall welcome be] 12 [page 512] 
108 if soe yo?tr grace Avill honor mee." 
when 13 as the day apointed was, 
before the Kmg shold 14 thither passe, 



1 not.— O.B. 

2 away. — O.B. 

3 this.— O.B. 

4 unto.— O.B. 

5 That many.— O.B. 
The Hint; again. 

: therefore.- OB. 



* should.— O.B. 

9 One stroke too many in the MS. 

'» full sad.— O.B. 

11 Saying.— O.B. 

''- shall welcome ho. — O.B. 

13 Then.— O.B. 

" did. 



KINGE EDGAR. 



4«J1 



the Eric before-hand did prepare 
112 the Kings l coming to declare, 

& with a countenance passing grim 
he called his Lady vnto him, 
saing with sad & heauye cheere : 
116 "I pray you, when the King comes heere, 
sweet Lady, as you tender mee, 
lett your attire but homelye bee ; 
& washe not thou thy Angells face, 
120 but doe 2 thy bewtye quite 3 disgrace ; 
therto thy gesture soe apply, 
itt may seeme lothsome to his 4 eye ; 
for if the 'King shold heere 5 behold 
124 thy gloiroous bewtye soe extold, 

then shold 6 my liffe soone shortened bee 
ffor my desartt 7 & trecherye. 
when to thy ffather ffirst I came, 
128 though I did not declare the same, 
yett was I put in trust to bring 
the ioyfull tydings of the Kinge, 
who for thy glouryous bewtye seene, 
132 did thinke of thee to make his queenc. 
but when I had thy person found, 
thy bewty gaue me such a wound, 
no rest nor comfort cold I take 
130 till your* sweet loue my greffe did slake ; 
& thus, 9 though duty charged me 
most ffaithfull to my LonZ to bee, 
yett loue vpon the other side 
140 bade 10 for my selfe I shold prouide. 
then for my sute & service knowne, 11 
att lentligt I woon you for my owne ; 



Ethclwold 



prays his 
wife, 

when Edgar 
does come, 
to dress 
badly, 
not wash 
her face, 



and behave 
disgust- 
ingly ; 

for if the 
King 
sees her 
beaut v, 
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. 
1 t lie.— O.B. 

5 there.— O.B. 



• shall.— O.B. 



Deserts.— O.B. 
you.— O.B. 
that.— O.B. 
Bid.— O.B. 
shown. — O.B. 



492 



KINGE 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 UocTs 
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 jour loue & 1 wedlocke spent, 

144 jour choice you need no whitt repent. 
& sith 2 my greefYe I haue exprest, 
sweet Lady, grant nie my request." 
good words shee gaue w/tli smiling clieere 

148 musing att 3 that which, shee did heeare ; 
& casting many things in mind, 
great fault herwith 4 shee seemed to find ; 
& 5 in her-selfe shee thought itt shame 

152 to make that ffoule which god did frame, 
most costly robes & 6 rich, therfore, 
in brauest sort that day shee wore, 
& did all things 7 that ere shee might 

156 to sett her bewtye forth to sight, 
& her best skill in euery thing 
shee shewed, to entertaine the K*mjr, 
wherby 8 the 'King soe snared was, 

1G0 that reason quite ffrom him did passe ; 
his hart by her was sett on ffire, 
he had to her a great desire ; 
& for the lookes he gaue her then, 

lfi4 for euery looke shee gaue him ten ; 
wherfor the King perceiued plaine 
his loue & lookes were not in vaine. 
vpon a time 9 itt chanced soe, 

1C8 the 'King hee wold a hunting goe, 
& into HoRSWOOD did he ryde, 10 
the Ei-le on horssbake by his side. 
& there u the story telleth plaine, 

172 that with a shaft the Erie was slaine. 
& when that 12 hee had lost his liffe, 
he 13 tooke the Lady to his H wiffe ; 



1 my Love in. — O.B. 
- Then since.— O.B. 
3 of.— O.B. 4 

5 llul. —O.B. 

7 Doing all.— O.B. 

8 Wherefore.— O.B. 



therewith.— O.B. 
6 full.— O.B. 

9 MS. tino.— F. 



10 And as they through a Wood did 
ride.— O.B. 

11 For so.— O.B. 

'- So that when.— O.B. 
I:! King Edgar. — F. 
11 unto.— O.B. 



KINGE EDGAR. 



493 



he marryed her, all shame ' to shunn, 
17G by whom he had begott 2 a sonne. 

thus hee Av/u'eh 3 did the ~Kmg deceiuc, 

did by desart this 4 death receiue. 

then, to conclude & make an ende, 
180 be true & ffaithffull to jour 5 flreind ! 



ffinis. 



marries her, 

and liogots a 
son mi her. 
So the 
deceiver 
lost, 1 1 i .— lilt'. 

Moral : 

Be true to 
your friend. 



1 Who marry 'd her, all Harm. — O.B. 

2 did beget.— O.B. 



3 that. 

4 his.- 



-O.B. 
-O.B. 



thy.— O.B. 



494 



We know cf 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 En- 
glish 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 companion- 
able 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 be true to me. 



CHRISTOPHER WHITE. 

And 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 Lest, 
For in faith they are best company. 



495 



AS I walked fforth one morni[n]gc [page 513] 

by one place that pleased mee, 
wlierin I heard a wandering wight, 

sais, " Christopher white is good eompanye." 

I drew me neere, & very neere, 

till I was as neere as neere cold bee ; 

loth I was her councell to discreeme, 1 
because I wanted companye. 



I overheard 
a girl 
mourning 
for Christo- 
pher White. 

I drew close 
to her, 



" Say on, say on, thou Avell faire mayd, 

why makest thou 2 moane soe heauilye ? " 
sais, " all is ffor one wandering wight, 
12 is banished fforth of his owne countrye." 

" I am the burgesse of Edenburrow, 

soe am I more of townes 3, 
I haue money & gold great store, 
16 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 
20 He count 3 as much downe on thy knee." 

" Merchant, take thy gold againe, 
a good liuing twill purchase thee ; 
if I be ffalse to Christopher white, 
24 Merchant, I cannott be true to thee." 



and she said 
that White 
was 
banished. 



An Edin- 
burgh 

burgess tells 
her he lias 
plent] of 

in y ; will 

she love 
him? He 
offers her 
gold, 



and 20 '/. or 
30(M. a week. 



She answers 



that If she" i 

false to 
White, 
she can't bo 
true to him. 



1 ? discrceuc. — F. 



- MS. thorn.— F. 



3 MS. comt.— F. 



496 



CIIIUSTOrilEK WHITE. 



He tells her 
what wealth 
he has, 



23 



sais, " I haue halls, soe haue I bowers," 
sais, " I liaue sliipps sayling on the sea ; 

I ame tlie burgess of Eclenburrowe ; 

come, sweete wench, ligge thy louc on mcc. 



and offers to 
marry her 
next day. 



" 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 girl 
takes his 
money, 
and agrees 
to have him. 



The Lady shee tooke this gold in her hand, 
the teares the ffell ffast ffrom her eyes l ; 
sais, " siluer & gold makes my hart to turne, 
36 & makes me leaue good company e." 



But soon 
after their 
marriage, 

all the 

merchants 
have to go 
to sea. 



On this, the 
wife sends a 
love letter, 
and 100/., to 
Christopher, 



They had not beene marryed 

not ouer monthes 2 or 3, 
but tydings came to Edenburrowe 
40 tJiut 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 100!' 



She lind the letter with, 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. 



and bids him 

cui:icj to her. 



Shee bade him then ffrankely spend, 
& looke that hee shold merry bee, 

& bid him come to Edenburrowe 
now all the merchants be to the sea. 



1 eye.-P. 



CHRISTOPHER WHITE. 



497 



56 



But Christopher came to leeue London, 
& there he kneeled lowly downe, 

& there hee begd his pardon then, 

of our noble King that ware the crownc. 



He goes 
first to 
London, 

and gets the 

King's 

pardon. 



But when he came to his true loues house, 
which was made both of lime and stone, 
shee tooke him by the lilly white hand, 
60 sais, " true loue, you l are welcome home ! 



Then he 
comes to his 

old love. 



" welcome, my honey ! welcome, my ioy ! 

welcome, my true loue, home to mee ! 
ffor thou art hee that will leng[t]hen my dayes, 
64 & I know thou art good companye. 



She 

welcomes 

him, 



" Christopher, I am a merchants wiffe ; 

Christopher, the more shall be jour gaine ; 
siluer & gold you shall haue enough, 
68 of the merchants gold that is in Spaine." 

" 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." 



promises 
him as much 
gold as 
he wants, 



76 



" Althoug I be a marchants wiffe, 
shall 

• & g 

into England He goe w/th the." 



' mine 



[page 514] 



and declnre^ 
that she'll 
elope with 
him. 



They packet vp both siluer & p[late,] 

siluer & gold soe great plenty e ; 
& 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, 

'-' MS. lerW. I*'. ana pari 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' K 



498 



CHRISTOPHER WHITE. 



When the 
merchant 
comes back 
from sea, his 
neighbours 
tell him 
how his wife 



84 



And when the merchants they came home, 
their wines to eche other can say, 

"heere hath beene good Christopher white, 
& he hath tane thy wiffe away ; 



has run 
away with 
White. 



" They hane packett vp spoone & plate, 

silner & gold great plenty, 
& they be gon into litle England, 

& them againe thow mnst neuer see." 



"Well.'' 
says the 
merchant, 
'• I don't 
grieve for 
my gold, 
though I do 
for my wife : 



" I care nott ffor my silner & gold, 

nor for my plate soe great plentye, 
bnt I mourn e for that like-some Ladye 
92 thai Christopher white hath tane ffrom mee. 



but she gave 
me fair 
notice, so I 
mustn't 
grumble." 



" Bnt one thing I must needs confesse, 

this lady shee did say to me, 
1 if shee were ffalse to Christopher white, 
96 shee cold nener be true to mee.' ' 



Moral: 
Young 

women, 
love your old 
loves best ! 



100 



All young [wo] men, a warning take ! 

a warning, looke, you take by mee ! 
looke that you loue yo?(r old loues best, 

for infaith they are best companye. 



ffinis. 



499 



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, you 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 ? 

Fletcher's The Captain, Act iii. Sc. 3. 

" 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 nut in the first three editions. 

Intitled "iEneas the Wandering Prince - From Chappell's Popular Music, i. 

of Troy."— P. Printed in t ho fourth 370-1. The quotations have been already 

edition of the Beliques, vol. iii. p. 210; given by him, p. 260-1. — F. 

K K 2 



500 QDEENE DIDO. 

lamentably loving, — to the tune of Queen Dido.' At a later 
date, Sir Robert 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 nry 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. 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, 1673. 

"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 
^Eneas' 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 Roman 
epic ; afterwards it narrates circumstances uncommemorated by 
Virgil. Dido's sister writes to iEneas (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 necessity, 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 be held over him. 

In the JSneid 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 letuui 
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 
Respondet euris, sequatque Sichseus amorem. 
Nee minus iEneas, casu percussus iniquo, 
Prosequitur lacrimans longe, et miscratur 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 zEneas in Italy, to warn 

her of Lavinia's jealousy. 

Nox eral ; 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, 



iEueas 



lands at 
Carthage, 
I)ido makes 
him a sump- 
tuous feast, 



and at it 



asks him to 
tell her the 
story of his 
hard 
fortune. 



This he does, 



fo sweetly 
and patheti- 
cally that all 
weep, 



and at last 
1 liilo is 
obliged 
to ;isk him 
to stop. 



VV HEN * Troy towne for ten yeeres warr 
withstood the greekes in man full wise, 
yett did their foes encrease soe ffast, 
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. 

jEneas, wanclring 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 as in hall att meate the 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." 

And then anon this comelye "knight, 
20 w/th words demure, as he cold well, 

of his vnhappy ten yeeres warr 
soe true a tall 7 begun to tell, 

with words sooe sweete & sighes soe deepe, 
24 that oft he made them all to weepe ; 

And then a 1000 sighes he ffeiht, 8 

& euery sigh brought teares amaine, 
that where he sate, the place was wett 
28 as though he had scene those warrs againe ; 
soe that the Queene w?'th ruth therfore 
said, " worthy prince, enough ! no more ! " 



1 Although or albeit. 
after when by P. — F. 



-P. now added 



2 nought. — P. 

3 MS. wastly. 



4 walls. 
6 The.- 



-P. 



-F. waste lie, 



5 Arriuing. — P. 
-P. 7 tale.— P. 

8 fet. olim pro fetch t. vid. Bible. 
2 Sam. 9. 5. item 1 K? s 9. 28, &c— P. 



QUEENE DIDO. 

And then the darkesome night drew on, 
32 & twinkling starres on skye was * spread, 2 

& 3 he his dolefull tale had told, 
euery 4 one were layd in bedd, 

where they full sweetly tooke their rest, 
3G saue only didos boyling brest. 



This sillye woman neue>' slept, 
but in her chamber all alone, 

as one vnhappye, alwayes wept. 

vnto the walls shee made her moane 

that she shold still desire in vaine 

the thing that shee cold not obtaine. 



46 



44 



48 



52 



503 

At night 



all take 
sweet rest, 
save Dido, 



who cannot 
sleep, 



but always 
weeps and 
moans, 
desiring 
./Eneas. 



And thus in greeffe shee spent the night 

[Till twinkling starres] 5 in skye were ffledd, in the 

morning 

TAnd now bright Phebus mornlino; beames [page 515] she hears 

[Amidst they] clouds appeared redd. 
[Then tidings] came to her anon 
[How that the] Teoian shipps we[r]e gone. 7 



that the 
Trojan ships 
are gone. 



8 And then the queene with bloody kniffe 
did armee, her hart as hard as stone ; 

y*ett something loth to loose her liffe, 
in wofull wise shee made her mone ; 

then rowling on her carfull 9 bed, 

with sighes & sobbs these words slice sayd : 



She seizes 
a knife : 



but before 

killing 

herself, 



1 were. — P. 

2 the skye bespread. — P. 

3 when. — P. ' then every. — P. 

5 Pared away in the MS. The brack- 
eted parts of the next four lines are 
torn away.— P. 

6 Till twinkling starres in the sky 

were ffled. — P. 

7 And now bright Phebus morning 

beames 
Amidfl the clouds appeared red, 
Then tidings ca me to her anon 
How thai the Trojan Shipps were 

gone Qu, P 



8 And then the Queen with bloody 
knife 
Did arm her heart &c. 
Yet something &c. 
In woful w r iso &c. 
Then i<>\\ Ling on &e. 
With Bighfl &c— P. 
care-full, as in Piers Plowman's 
Crah : 

And al they songen o songc 
Tint sorwe was to heron ; 
They crieden alle o cry, 
A kareful m^te. — F. 



504 



QUEENE DIDO. 



she laments 
her sad fate. 



" O wretched dido queene ! " shee said, 1 
56 "I see thy end approcheth neere, 

fFor hee is gone away ffrom thee 

whom thou didst loue & hold soe dere. 

what, is he gone, & passed by ? 
60 hart, prepare thy selfe to dye ! 



Then she 
calls on 
Death, 
and stabs 
herself. 



Her funeral 
is costly, 



and her 

sisters and 
subjects 
bewail her. 



Her sister 
writes 
JEneas 
a letter, 



" 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 ! " q-uoth shee, " resolue my smart ! " 
& with 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 
w/u'ch shee sustaind in mournfull teene, 

^Eneas being shipt & gone, 
72 whose fflatery caused all her mone. 

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 tora.be bestrewde, 

he[r] 6 subiects greeffe their kindnesse shewed. 

Then was ^neas in an He 
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 : 



1 said slice. — P. • 

* And.— P. 

3 bids thee not to iVar. 



-P. 



4 did [end].— P. 

5 smart. — P. 
B Her.— P. 



7 to.— P. 



gUEENE DIDO. 



505 



88 



"ffalse liarted wretch," quoth shee, " thou art ! 

& traitorously thou hast hetraid 
vnto thy lure a gentle hart 

w/«'ch vnto thee much welcome made, 
my sister deere, & carthage Ioy, 
whose fiblly hred her deere annoy. 



calling him 

a false- 
hearted 
wretch , 



" Yett on her deathbed when shee lay, 
92 shee prayd for thy prosperitye, 

beseeching god that euery day 
might breed thy great flelicitye. 

thus by thy meanes I lost a ffreind : 
96 heauens send thee such an v[n]timely * end ! " 



saying that 
Dido prayed 
for his 
welfare, 



but her 
sister wishes 
him an un- 
timely end. 



100 



When he these lines, ffull ffraught with, gall, 
perused had, and wayed them right, 

his Losty 2 courage then did ffall ; 
& straight appeared in his sight 

Queene didoes Ghost, both grim & pale, 

which made this vallyant souldier for to quaile. 



./Eneas, on 
reading this, 

is cast down ; 



and Dido's 

ghost 

appears, 



"iEneas," quoth this gastly ghost, 
104 " my whole delight when I did liue ! 

thee of all men I loued most, 
my ffancy & my will did giue ; 

ffor Entertainment I the gaue ; 
108 vnthankefully thou didst me grauc ; 



reproaches 

1 ii in for his 

ingratitude, 



112 



" Therfore prepare thy fflitting soule 
to wander wtth me in the aire, 

where deadly greefle shall make itt howle 
because on me thou tookest no care. 

delay not time, thy glasse is run, 

thy date is past, & death is come 3 ! " 



and 
summons 

his soul to 
fly howling 
about the 

air u ith her. 



11 is death is 
at hand. 



1 untimely. — P. 
8 ? Lustv or Lot'tv. 



thy life is done. — Child's Ballad*. 



506 



QDEENE DIDO. 



JEneas prays 
for a respite, 



" stay a while, thou [lovely sprite !] l 
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. 



[page 51G] 



but all in 
vain ; 



124 



" But woe is me ! all is in vaine, 
& booteles is my dismall crye ! 

time will not be recalled againe, 
nor thou surcease before I dye. 

lett me liue, & make amends 

to some of thy most deerest ffreinds ! 



and seeing 
she ia 
obdurate, 



he is content 
to die. 



" But seeing thou obdurate art, 
128 & will no pittye to me show 

because ffrom thee I did depart, 
& lefft vnpaid what I did owe, 

I must content my selfe to take 
132 what Lott to me thou wilt partake. 2 " 



Ugly fiends 
dance 
around him, 



and carry off 
his body. 



136 



And thus, as one being in a trance, 

a multitude of vglye ffeinds 
about this woffull prince did dance : — 

he had no helpe of any ffreinds ; — 
his body then they tooke away, 
& no man knew his dying day. ffillis. 



1 stay a while thou gentle sprite, 
Be not so hasty to conuay. 
Query. — P. 



MS. pared away. — F. lovely sprite. — 
Child. 

2 to admit, to share : to extend parti- 
cipation. " So Spencer." see Johns" — P. 



507 



A cory of this ballad occurs in the Garland of Good Will, 
(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 Be Officiis (III. 10), 
and by others elsewhere. 



IN Stately Roome sometime did dwell A Roman 

a man of worthy 3 flame, gentleman 

who had a soime of ffeaturcs rare, 4 had a son, 

4 Alphonso called by 5 name. Alphonso, 
when hee was growne & come to age, 

his ffather thought itt best 

to send his sonnes 6 to Athens ffaire, whom ho 

8 where wisdomes Schoole did rest. Athens 

1 In the printed Collection of Old Bal- 3 Noble.— O.B. 

lads, L726, Vol. 2, p. 145.— P. 4 seemly Shape.— O.S. 

- See Eger and Grime, vol. i. p. 355, 4 was his. o.B. 

1. 46, and 'note 8 . ' ; 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, 



He sent him vnto Athens towne, 1 

good letters for to learne ; 
a place to boord him with delight 
12 his ffreinds did well discern e ; 

a noble 'knight of Athens towne 

of him did take the charge, 
who had a sonne Ganselo cald, 
1C iust of his pitch and age. 

In stature & in person both, 

in ffauor, speech, and fiface, 
in quality & condityon eke, 2 

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, 

of ffather nor 4 of mother. 



20 



24 



28 



32 



And as in ffauor they were found 

alike in all respects, 
euen soe they did most deerly loue, 

as proued by good effects. 
Ganselo loued a Lady faire 

which did in Athens dwell, 
who was in bewtye peereles found, 

soe ffarr shee did excell. 



takes a fancy 
to visit her, 



and asks 
Alphonso to 
go with him. 



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. 



1 And when he was to Athens come. 
-O.K. 



2 Conditions. — O.B. 
8 Place.— O.B. 



or. 



-O.B. 



ALFEONSO AND GANSELO. 



509 



Alphonso did tlierto agree, 

& with Ganselo went 
to see the Lady whom l hee loued, 
4-1 which bred his discontent : 

ffor when he cast his christall eyes 

vpon her angells 2 hue, 
the bewty of that Lady bright 
48 [Did strait] 3 his hart subdue. 



Alphonso 
goes, 



and falls in 
love with 
the lady, 



[His gentle Heart so wounded 4 ] was 

with that ffaire L[ady's 4 ] face 
that affterward hee daylye lined 
52 in sad & woefull case ; 

& of his greeffe he knew not how 

therof 5 to make an end, 
ffor that hee knew the Ladyes loue 
56 was yeelded to his ffreind. 



[page 517] 



and becomes 
very sad, 



as he knows 
she's his 
friend's 
sweetheart. 



Thus being sore perplext in mind, 

vpon his bed hee lay 
like one which. 6 death & deepe dispaire 
60 had almost worne away. 

his ffreind Ganselo, that did see 
his greeffe and great distresse, 
ait lcnght requested ffor to know 
64 his cause of lieauinesse. 



He takes to 
his bed, 



as one like 
to die. 



Ganselo 



asks the 
cause, 



with much adoc att lenghl be told 
the truth vnto his ffreind, 

who 'lid release" his inward woe 
68 with comfort 8 in the end : 



anil on 
hearing it , 



1 which. O.B. 

- /Lngel O.B. 

3 O.B. .MS. pared away.— F. 
* O.B. 



'• Therefore.— O.B. 
,; whom. -O.B. 

7 relieve. O.B. 

8 to. 0.15. 



510 



ALFFONSO AND GANSELO. 



at onco gives 
his love up 
to his friend, 



"take courage then, deere freind ! " quoth, bee ; 

" though shee through loue be mine, 
my right I will resigne to thee, 

the Lady shalbe thine. 



tells him to 
put on his 
(iianselo's) 
clothes, 



and marry 
the lady. 



" You know our ffauors ' are alike, 

our speech alike 2 likwise ; 
this day in mine apparrell then 3 
76 you shall your selfe disguise, 
& unto church then shall } t ou 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 ffull 5 well apayd ; 

& as they had decreed, 
he went next G day, & weded plaine 
84 the ladye there indeed. 

But when the nuptyall feast was done, 

& Phebus light 7 was filed, 
the Lady for Ganselo tooke 
88 Alfonso 8 to her bed. 



But in the 
morning 



Alphonso is 
summoned 
to Eome. 



the 

deception is 
found out, 



That night they spent in pleasing sort, 9 

& when the day was come, 
a post fibr ffaire Alfonso came 
92 to fleitch him home to Roome. 
then was the matter plainly proued, 

Alfonso weded was, 
& [not 10 ] Ganselo, to that dame ; 
96 which, brought great woe, alas ! 



1 Favour.— O.B. 
- also.— O.B. 

3 O.B. omits th a. 

4 Lo— O.B. 
a so.— O.B. 



« that.— O.B. 

7 quite.— O.B. 

8 Part of a letter, or an r, follows o in 
the MS. 1'. Alphonso.— O.B. 

» pleasant Sport.— O.B. 10 O.B. 



ALFFONSO AND (;ANSELO. 



511 



Alfonso being gone to Roome 

w/th this his lady gay, 
Ganselos ffreinds & kinred all 
100 in such a rage did staye 

that they depriued [him •] of his welth 

his lands 2 & rich attire, 
& banisht him their country eke 3 
104 in rage & wrathefull Ire. 



ami 

Ganselo's 

friends, 

enraged, 

seize his 

property, 

and 

bauish him. 



w/th sad & pensiue thought, 4 alas ! 

Ganselo wanderd then, 
who was constrained through want to begg He is forced 
108 releeffe of many men. 

In this distresse oft wold he say 

" to Roome I mean to goe, 
to seeke Alfonso, my deere fi'reind, 
112 who will releeue my woe." 



To Roome when pore Ganselo came, 

& found Alfonsoes place, 
w/«ch was soe ffamous, huge, & faire, 
116 himselfe in such poore case, 

he was ashamed to shew himselfe 

in that his poore array, 
saying, " Alfonso knowes me well 
i20 if he shold 5 come this way ; " 



goes to 
Rome, 
and finds 
Alphonso's 
place so 
grand that 
hedai-en't 
go there. 



"wherfore 6 he staid within the street. 

Alfonso then came by, 
but heeded mm 7 Ganselo pore, 
124 his ffreind l/mi stood soe nye ; 



So he s'ups 
outside. 
Alphonso 
I'nws by, 
taking no 
notice of 
him. 



1 O.B. 

- Land. O.B. 

-■> quite. O.B. 

1 Thoughts.— 0.13. 



« would.— O.B. 
' Therefore.— O.B. 
6 not,— O.J5. 



512 



ALFFONSO AND GANSELO. 



This grieves 
Ganselo, so 



128 



which greened Ganselo to the hart 
qttoth hee, " and is itt soe ? 

doth proud Alfonso now disclaine 
his freind in need l 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 owerwayd 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, 
w7wch 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 
(ianselo'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 stayde, 



1 indeed.— 
- O.B. 
3 there fell 



O.B. 



-O.B. 



* And.— O.B. 

6 afterwards.— O.B. 

8 away in haste. — O.B. 



ALFFONSO AND GANSELO. 



513 



And brought befor the Magistrates, 1 

who did confesse most plaine 
that hee indeed w«'th that same kniffe 
156 the murthered man had slaine. 2 
Alfonso sitting there as 3 iudge, 

& knowing Ganselos fface, 
to saue his ffreind, did say himselfe 
160 was guilty in that case. 



and tried 
for the 
murder, 
lie confesses 
that he 
committed 
it. 

Alphonso is 

the judge ; 
and to save 
Ganselo, 



" None," quoth Alfonso, "killed the man, 

my lords, 4 but only I ; 
& therfore sett this poore man ffree, 
164 & lett me iustly dye." 

thus while for death these ffaith-ffull freinds 5 

in striuing did proceed, 
the man before the senate came 
168 which 6 did the ffacte indeed, 



vows that 
he killed 
the man. 



Just then 
the real 
murderer, 



Who being moued with remorse 
their ffaith-ffull 7 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 beenc. 



struck with 
remorse, 



proves 
his own 

guilt. 



Alphonso 
embraces 
Ganselo, 



In rich array he clothed him, 

as fitted his degree, 
& helpt him to his lands againe 
180 & fibrmer dignitye. 



and helps 
him to his 

old lauds, .Sec. 



1 Magistrate.— O.B. 

2 flain.— O.B. 

3 with the.— O.B. 
* Lord.— O.B. 

5 One strokes too few in the MS. — F. 

VOL. III. I> I' 



8 That.— O.B. 

7 friendly.— O.B. 

8 say.— O.B. 

9 Fact.— O.B. 



514 ALFFONSO AND GANSELO. 

And the the murtherrer lie ! ffor telling truth 

pardoned. was pardoned 2 att that time, 

wlio afterward lamented much 
184 this 3 foule & greiuous crime. IliniS. 



1 O.B. omits he— F. 2 Had pardon.— O.B. s His.— O.B. 

\_" All in a greene Meadowe," printed » Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 114, 
follows here in the MS. p. 518-19.] 



515 



23fllotoe t 1 

This exquisite song is given in the Reliqu.es from the Folio, 
" corrected by 2 another [copy] in Allan Ramsay'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 Ramsay's Tea- 
table Miscellany. They are no doubt an imitation of one of the 
M.S. 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 : 

For 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 Kamsays 2 "compared with" 2nd and 3rd edi- 

Collection eall'd the Tea-table Miscel- tions of the Beliques; "corrected by" 

lany, printed at Glasgow, 1753, in 4 '4th ed. : no notice of any comparison or 

Parts. It is there eall'd Lady Anno correction in the 1st ed. — 3?. 

Bothwell's lament. — And consists of 13 3 Robert Chambers, in a note to his 

Stanzas. Of wAich only the 11' 2? 3"? Scottish Ballads (ed. 1829, p. lis), Bays 

& 7'. h are t ho same with this:- In the that it is to be found in The Northern 

printed copy: the 2"? & 3?, are put Lass, or the Nest of Fools, 1606. W.C 

;;•' cV 2'. 1 & t'li.- 7'. 1 ' comes in -l"', the in- r a. misprinl for L706, the date of the 

termediate being omitted: after which reprint of Uroinc's play; we cannot find 

follow 8 other. The last St. of this is any notice of a book or play of this 

something different from the Printed, P. name in 1G06. — F. 

L 1. 2 



516 



BALOWE. 



And could hee thon (though mo forcgoe) 
His infant leave, ere hee did know 

How like the dad 

Would bee the lad, 
In time to make fond maydens glad ? 
Ballow, ballow, &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. Eimbault has allowed us to 
transcribe. By its side, on the right, we put the copy from 
Elizabeth Kogers's Virginal Booh, the Additional MS. 10,337, 
a.d. 1658, to which Mr. Chappell has called our attention. 



[John Gamble's MS. Book, 1649 a.d.] 

l 
Ballowe, my babe, 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. 
ballowe, my boy, thy mothers ioy, 
thy father breedes thee much anoy ; 
ballow, ballow, ballow, ballow. 



balow my babe, 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 ffathers fflattringe hartt to bear, 
balow &c. 



[Addit. MS. 10,337, p. 6 from the end.] 

l 
Baloo my boy lye still and sleepe, 2 
itt grieues me sore to see the weepe : 
Wouldst thou bee quiet ist 3 be as glade, 
Thy morninge, makes my sorrow sad : 
Lie still my boy, 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, baloo; 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 appearc, 



1 Pinkerton prints a version in his Select 
Scotish Ballads, 1 783,vol. i. p. 86, and says : 

"In a 4to MS. in the Editor's posses- 
sion, containing a collection of poems by 
different hands from the reign of Queen 
Elizabeth to the middle of the last cen- 
tury, when it was apparently written 
(pp. 132) there are two Balowes as they 
are styled, the first The Balow Allan, tho 
socond Palmer's Balow ; this last, is that 
commonly called Lady Bothwell's Lament, 
and the three first stanzas in this edition 
are taken from it, as is the last from Allan's 
Balow. They are injudiciously mingled 
in Ramsay's edition, and several stanzas 



of his own added ; a liberty ho used much 
too often in printing Scotish poems." 

Pinkerton'sMS. (temp. Car. 1. 162. r v-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 con- 
sists of six stanzas nearly verbatim with 
the text vim havo ,<_'i \ m from Gamble's 
MS., 1649." 

2 Stops, hyphens, &c, all in the MS. 
— F. 

3 I should.— F. 



BALOWE. 



517 



{John Gamble's MS. Boole, 16-19 a.d.] 



•when hee beegan to court my loue, 
with sugred words hee did mee move, 
his faineinge 1 ffaee & fflattringe leares 
thatt unto me in time apeares; 
butt now I see that crewelty 
cares neitther ffor my bal ie nor mee, 
balow &c. 



I cannott chose, butt euer will 

bee Loyal] to thy ffather still ; 

his cuninge hath parlur'd- 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. 



ffarewell! ffarewell the ffalsestt youth 
thai euer kistt a womans mouth ! 
lett neuer maide ere after mee 
once trust unto thy ereuelty ! 
ffor crewell thou, iff once shee bow, 
wiltt her abuse, thou earstt nott how. 
balow &e. 



[Addit. MS. 10,337, p. 6 from the end.] 

But now I see, that Cruell hee 
Cares nether for my boy, nor mee, 
Baloo lialoo. 



But thou my darlinge sleepe a while, 
and when thou wakest sweetlye smile, 
yet smile not as thy father did 

ozen 3 
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 //: //: //: 



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 nioane, leaue of to groane, 
and sleepe securelye hart a-lone. 
Baloo //: //: //: 



Now by my greifs I uow & sware, 
thee and all others to fforbeare; 
ile neither kiss, nor cull, nor clapp, 
butt lull my youuglinge 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 Ramsay's copy in his Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724. 
This is called " 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 varia- 
tions in the other one. 

1 ? MS. fameingc.— F. - ? for purloin'd.— F. 8 So in MS.— F. 



518 BALOWE. 

7. The version in Evans's Old Ballads, 1810. '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 Both well, 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 Cove- 
nanters, and came to his death by being blown up, with many other 
persons of rank, in Douglass Castle, on Aug. 30, 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 (1853), iv. 203 .... 

But on this statement Mr. Chappell has been good enough to 
draw up, at some trouble, the following : 

" Baloo is a sixteenth-century 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, x as well as in Morley's Consort Lessons, 
printed in 1599. The words (see above) and tune are together 
in John Gamble's Music Booh, a MS. in the possession of Dr. 
Kimbault, (date 1649,) and in Elizabeth Bogers'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 Tliis highly interesting MS. -which is 'Queen Maries Dump' (in whose reign 

in tin' 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 h . — F. 



BALOWE. 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 ' 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 authority 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 Ave find the inducement supposed to have been 
offered by Lady Anne's lover : 

I was too credulous at the firs! 
To grant thee that a maiden durst, 
And in thy bravery thou didst vaunt 
That I no maintenance should want: [!] 
Thou swear thou lovV. thj mind is moved, 
Which sinco no otherwise has proved. 

" Comment is unnecessary. Can any one believe that such 



520 BALOWE. 

lines were written by or for any lady of rank ? l Yet they were 
copied as Lady Anne's by Allan Ramsay, and polished in his 
usual style. They have been polished and repolished by subse- 
quent 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 Ramsay 
(which are given above) and compare with Evans in the fol- 
lowing 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 com- 
mon 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 can- 
not 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 Lament is composed out of that -which 

E. Chambers's Scottish Ballads, 1829, appeared in Watson's Collection, with 

p. 135, to some stanzas and various readings from 

I was too credulous at the first, a ™™* f together different, which was 

To yield thee all a maiden durst. P llbl ' s f d ^ £• Per< f ~ V : „ , . 

Thou swore for ever true to prove, . * °^ portions of the ballad have 

By faith unchanged, unchanged thy love ; 5een * re f ed m ^tfTJl ^ Evan to 

But, quick as thought, the change is late Professor W. E. Ay oun, no content 

•wrought Wltn sucl1 cnan S es 11S ° S m for 1 

Thy love's' no more, thy promise noucht wis1 ?'" / to *£» !* ™ re ? c ° teh ) must 

-61 1 v i-ii j 1 , needs chancre " With fairest tonqucs are 

Balow, my boy, lie still and sleep! uwubuiuiw ,ir, ),.»., . 

Tf „,.; „, o ™« 1,;,. t„ ^ t i,„ ™, L falsest mines," into " With fairest hearts 
it grieves me sair to see tnee weip. „ , . ' „ ... ~ 

. are falsest minds. — W.C. 

Chambers says that his " copy of the 



BALOWE. 521 

I cannot choose but ever will 
Be loving to thy father still. 
■Where'er he goes, where'er he ride, 
My love with him doth still abide. 
In weal or woo, where'er he go, 
My heart shall ne'er depart him fro. 

What a moving lealty of soul ! What a passing constant loving- 
ness ! ' 

May we do ourselves the pleasure of quoting here an old 
Greek song, of which " 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 Baloive. 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. 

'6re \apvaxi [5'] if SaiSoAea ave/xos re ynv 
KivrjQelffa re Ai/Ava 

Sei'/ua-rt 'r/ptirev, ovk aSiai/roiffi vapeicus 
d/j.(pi re Xlepcrei fiaAAe (piKav X € V a 

elW re - Si TiKos, olov ix 03 "tbvov ' 
ffv 5' avroos yaXadyvcS 
CTrjOei ■ KV&ffaeis ev arepTre? 
5w/j.an x a ^ Ke0 "y^l J - ( PV vvKTiKap-Trel 
Kvapew re 5v6(pcp radeis. 
AuaXeav 5' unep6e redv 
K6fxav f$a6e7av irapiovTOS 
Kv/xaTOS oiiK aAeyeis, 
ou5' dvefiov <p66yyaiv, 

Keiixevos ev iropcpvpea x^cd'Si, TTp6<TuiTov KaXov. 
el 5e toi Seifbv r6 ye Setvbv i)v, 
Kal Kev fycov $>i)pi.aT<iiv Keirrbv uTretxes ovas' 

1 Mr. Kobert Chambers's opinion, if it by no means agreeable to reflect upon. 

be entitled to the name, maybe compared: Ee, however, afterwards saw reason to 

" The editor a1 first thought of excluding change his resolution, in the fine moral 

the ballad altogether from his collection, strain which pervades I lie unfortunate 

us, although tin' poetry is exquisitely lady's lamentations." — F. 

beautiful, the subject is one which it is 2 Al. t' i]Topt, al. tfOei, al. fieiSti. 



522 



BALOWE. 



k4\o/j.' f'vSe Ppecpos, 
eu5era> Se tcovtos, 
euSeTW 6,/J.eTpov k<xk6v ' 
/j.€Tafi,ivALa 5e tis cpavtir), 
ZeC irdrep, e/c cre'o. 

o ti 5e 6a.pcra.Aeov «7ros ei/x°M a ' 
TeKvScpi S'iKav, criiyyvuOl /not. 



Ed. Schncidcwin. 



Baby, sleep ! 



Your father 
has wronged 
me. 



When he 
courted me, 
I did not see 
his falseness, 



but now I do. 



12 



JjALOW my babe, lye still & sleepe ! 
itt greeues me sore to see tbee weepe. 
balowe my boy, tby mothers ioy, 
thy flatter breeds me great anoy. 

balow, la-low, la-la-la, ra-row, fa-la, la-la, 

la-la, la-la-la, la-low ! 

When lie began to court my lone, 
& with his sugred words me moue, 
his flaynings false & fflattering cheere 
to me that time did not appeare ; 
but now I see most cruellye 
he cares neither for my babe nor mee. 
Balow &c. 



Darling, 



don't smile 
like your 
father did. 



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. 



But I cannot 
help loving 
him still. 



I cannott chuse, but euer will 
be louing to thy father still ; 
where-ere he goes, where-ere he ryds, 
24 my loue wrth him doth still abyde ; 
in weale or woe, where-ere he goe, 
my hart shall neere depart him ffroe. 
Ballow &c. 



BALOWE. 



523 



28 But doe not, doe not, pretty mine, 
to ffaynings false thy hart incline, 
be 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 

iinr, 

be true to 

your love ; 

never 

change. 



Bearne, by thy face I will be ware ; 
36 like Sirens words Be not come neere ' ; 

my babe & I together will Hue ; 

heele comfort me when cares doe greeue ; 

my babe & I right soft will lye, 
40 & neere respect 2 mans crueltye. 
Ballow &c. 



Live and 
comfort me. 



44 



48 



ffarwell, ffarwell, the falsest youth 
that euer kist a womans mouth ! 
I wish all maids be warned by mee, 
neere to trust mans curtesye ; 
for if wee doe but chance to bowe, 
theyle vse vs then, they care not how. 



Ballow &c. 



ffinis. 



May all 
maids take 
warning by 
me, never to 
trust a man. 



* Eairne, sin thy cruel father is gane, 
Thy winsome smiles maun eise my 
paino. Percy in Eeliques. — F. 



3 quite forgeit. Percy in Eeliques. — F. 



[" Old Simon the Kmge" printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, jp. 124, 
follows here in the MS. p. 519-20.] 



524 



Gentle Ueartisman* 

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. Goldsmith 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, but 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 ho sought, 

And stretch me whero 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 hear 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 cbarmer, turn to see, 
Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin hero, 

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? 

" No, 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: 

Now, gentle herdsman, ask no more, 

But keepe my secretts, I thee pray. 
Unto the towne ofWalsingham 

Show me the right and readye way. 

Now goo thy wayes, and goe before, 

For ho must euer puide thee still : 
Turne downe that dale, the right hand path, 

And soe jfairo Pilgrim flare the well. 

And the contrite pilgrim moves sadly away towards her 
appointed goal. 



526 



GENTLE HEARDSMAN. 



" Tell mo 



the way to 
Walfiing- 

hain." 



GENTLE : hcardsman, tell to me — 
of curtesy I thee pray, — 
vnto the towne of walsingkam 
4 which is the right and ready way.' 



"It's bad, 
and hard for 
you to find." 



" vnto the towne of walsingam 

the way is hard ffor to be gon, 

& verry crooked are those pathes 

8 ffor you. to ffmd out all alone." 



" Not bad 
enough for 
me, 



" weere the miles doubled 3 ,se , 

& the way neuer soe ill, 
itt were not enough for mine offence, 
12 itt is soe greuious and soe ill." 



" Thy yeeares are young, thy face is ffaire, 

thy witts are weake, thy thoughts are greene ; 
time bath not giuen thee leaue as yett 
16 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, 



"I am not what I seeme to bee ; 

my clothes & sexe doe differ ffarr ; 
I am a woman, woe is me ! 
24 [A prey] 2 to greeffe & irksome care, 



i MS. sime. — F. song for the Press, part of the Leaf has 

2 MS. torn away here and in the boon wornc away. It was once exact I y 

following lines. — F. as I have represented it in my Book. 

N.B. Sinco I first transcribed this — P. 



GENTLE HEARDSMAN. 



527 



28 



" [ J For my] belouecl & well beloued 

[My wayward cruelty could kill : 
[And though my teares will nought avail, [page 521] 

[Most dearely I bewail him still. 



and was 
loved 



8 " [He was the flower of noble w]ights ; 

[None ever more sincere colde] bee ; 
[Of comelye mien and shape he] was, 
32 [And tenderlye he lov]ed mee. 

" [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 scorne of such a youth] as bee, 2 



by a noble 
youth, 



whom I 
tormented 



and scorned. 



" 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. 



" 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. 



" And for his sake these weeds I weare, 

to sacriffice my tender age, 
& euery day He begg my bread 
48 to vndergoe this pilgrimage. 



For his sake 



I go this 

pilgrimage, 



1 This and tho following pieces in 
brackets were supplied by Percy, in the 
U'liqucs i. 73-4.— F. 

2-2 Note by Percy on a separate slip, 
with an irregular line (but no dots) 
marking the broken edgo of the leaf: 

still 

oble wi!_ r lits 
. ere . . bee 
. e hee was 



e loved mco 
ned me well 
. me to see 
know myselfo 
as hee 

and grew so coy & nice to please 
N.B. This shows the state of tho Leaf 
as it was at first, beforo 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 . „ 

52 nor soe did nee, & soe will 1. 

Tell me the " Now, gentle heardsman, aske no more, 

WaLing- but keepe my secretts, I thee pray; 

vnto the towne of walsingam 
56 show me the right & readye way." 

" Now goe thy wayes, & god before, 1 
" God go for he must euer guide thee still : 

with you! 

turne downe that dale, the right hand path, 
Turn to the 60 & soe; ff a [ re piig[ r ]i m> ff'are thee well ! ffinis. 

Farewell ! " 

1 See the Glossary for a reference to Mr. Dyce's note on this phrase. — F. 

[" Thomas you cannott" printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 116, follows 
here in the MS. p. 521. Part of it is on a fragment apart from the 
MS., being p. 522. Then follow Percy's "A List of the Ballads Sf 
other Pieces in this Booh. Dec. 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^Pnge 55, 
which makes the Number 192. Perhaps more Fragments may be yet discovered 

distinct from the rest. Yes; 3 more on the Subject of Ilobin 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 Eeliques 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, Sfc. 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 



12 



16 



1 $ am . . . 

Jo AY : what is a wom[ans hart] 
that calmes & 
is itt light ho 
& or is itt 

out alas out 

my mother h 

lay I [h]ome 



. 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 ? 
[Some ar]e no doubt, but they are very ffew. 
[Most think that if their] ffaith & loue last long, 
[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 pt^-plex ? 
is itt wider, Hire, earth, or aire, 
20 that makes these creatures seeme soe rare ? ffinjg 

1 This follows " Thomas you cannot," on a fragment of p. 522 of tho MS. F. 

VOL. III. M U 



530 



Corftfmt 

[On p. 522 of the MS.] 

]y shepard swaine 
vpon the storadyan plainc 
ent to keepe his fflockes of sheepe 
hts he did obtaine 
his eye he did espye 
wlyous traine to passe 
[a]fter a deere which ffollowed neere 
8 which, they had hard in chase. 

after them came amaine a faire mayd, 

which did moue corydon through the sun for to 
run, 
thinking to haue stayd her : but he framed l her 
] 2 & still prayd her, but dismaid her, 

& shee thought his sight to shunn. 

Ere they ended had their race, they came vnto a 

place 
where Pann did sitt his ffitt in a garland made of 
bayes ; 
16 but when the godds perceiued the maid, 
the tooke her ffor diana ; 

both ffor bewty & attire the like was neuer any ; 
which did moue him to loue her to follow, 
20 att which sight, in a ffright backe againe rann the 
swai[n,] 
where his fflockes were grazing, Pann sate praising, 
but still gazing and amazing, 
ffearffull to behold the mayd. 

1 frayed, qu. P. frained= asked. — F. 



CORIDON. 531 

24 ffrom his fface sliee fled w/th feare lest the godds 
shold find hei* 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 ffurther sc[ape] . 
28 hut that shee [might] 

to ...■•• 



M N 2 



532 



Owcye] off ftmme* 

[On pago 523 of the MS.] 

This is a fragment of a late copy of the old poem on Henry V.'s 
famous siege of Rouen, 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 Rev. J. J. Conybeare in vol. xxi. 
of the Archceologia, 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 V. was March 21, 1416, to 

1 It will be admitted, I believe, by all F. Madden in ArchcBol. xxii. 353. — F. 
who will take the trouble to compare the 2 Sotheby's Catalogue, referred to by 
various contemporary narratives of the Mr. Hazlitt, Early Pap. Poetry, ii. 92. 
siege of Rouen, that in point of simpli- The reader will percoivo that the Char- 
city, clearness, and minuteness of detail, lemont or Egerton MS. is not unique, 
there is qo existing document which can as Mr. Hazlitt supposed it was. — F. 
compare with the poem before us. Sir 



SEEGE OFF ROUNE. 533 

March 20, 1417, it is clear that Mr. Hazlitt was induced to 
attribute the date of Rouen 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 Rone by kynge Henry of Mon-mouthe " ; for the 
writer of that ballad wisely says, 

. . in this boke I cannot comprehends 
The greatest batayll of all, called y e sege of Kone; 
For that sege lasted .iij. yere and more; 
And there a rat was at .xl. pens,' 
For in the Cytye the people hongered sore ; 
Women and chyldren for faute of mete were lore, 
And some for payne hare hones were gnawynge, 
That at her hrestes had .ii. chyldren soukynge. 
Of the sege of Rone it to wryte were pytye, 
It is a thing so lamentable . . 

E. Pop. Tudry, ii. 107- 8. 

As the poem is printed from the best MSS. in the Archcvologia, 
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. 

[IjOd that dyde a-pon A tre 2 ] 
[And bonghte vs with hys blode so]c ffree, 
[To hys blys tham] bringe 
4 [That lysteiiytke vnto my] talkinge ! 

[Oft vn tymys we] talke of diuercs trauells, 3 
[Of saute, Sege, and of grete ba]ttells 4 

1 And flesche, save horseflesche, haddo For fourty pens they solde a ratte, 

they none : And for two nobels they solde a catte : 

T)n'\ ete also bothe >h >^i."^ and cattcs, And for sa pens they Bolde a mowse, 

And also bothe myse and rattes, Hull few was Lefte in any howse. 

And also an hors quarter Lene o1 ber fat, Bodley MS. 124, in Archaol. xxi. 63. 

And a hundreds Bchyllynges hyl was - From Egerton MS. 1995, fol. 87.— 

worth at ; F. 

And also a iiors hede at halfe a pownde, J of trauayle. — Eg. MS. 

And a dogge for ten scbylynge of mony 4 batayle. — Eg. .Ms. 

sound i- : 



534 SEEGE OFF EOUEN. 

[Bothe in Romans and in rym]e, 
8 [What hathe ben done be-fore thys tyme ; 

[But y wylle telle you nowe pre]sent — 

[Vnto my tale yf ye] take tent 1 — 

[Howe the v. Harry oure leg]e, 
12 [With hys ryalte he sette a sege 

[By-fore Rone, that ryehe Cytt]e, 

[And endycl hyt at hys o]wne to bee 2 ; 

[A more solempne sege was n]euer sett ; 
16 [Syn Ierusalem and Troy] were gett, 3 

[So moche folke was neuyr] seene 4 

[One kynge with soo many vndyr heuyne : 

[Lystenythe vnto me A lytylle space, 
20 [And I shalle telle you howe hyt was ; 

[And the better telle I may,] 

ff[or at that sege w^t7i the kyng I lay,] 

& [there to I toke a-vyse] 
24 [Lyke as my wyt wolde suffyce, 

[Whenne Pountlarge with sege was wounne 

[And ouyr sayne, then enter was be-gu?me.] 

the duke of [Exceter, that hende,] 
28 to Rowne 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 the 7 ground 
32 all 8 about the Cittye round, 

& how they might best lay a seege ; 

but they wold not obey their leege. 

when the duke of great renowne 
36 was come before that royall towne, 

he display d his banners great plen[tye,] 9 

& herotts into the cittye sent hee, 

1 wylle tent.— Eg. MS. 6 yf that they yoldyn wolde be.— Eg. 

* (.wne volunte.— Eg. MS. MS. 

3 was gotte. — Eg. MS. ' alle soo for to se that. — Eg. MS. 

■' sene.- Eg. MS. 8 That was.— Eg. MS. 

5 To Kone yn sothe oure kyng hym 9 baners on A bent. — Eg. MS. 

sende. — Eg. MS. 



SEEGE OFF ROUNE. 535 

to warne thein on paine of death 
40 ' that they our king sliold not green[e,] 
nor [be] w/th-standing of his might, 
hut deliuer this cittye soone in his sight. 
& soe hee told them mthouten 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 wayes to fFare, 
& made assignment w/th their hand 
that he shold there no longer stand, 
& shotten out ordinance with great en[vye,] 
52 & maden ware dispitteouslye. 
then came fforth Knights keene 
on horsbace with armour sheene, 
& there mustered the Duke againe. 
56 on both partyes many were slaine, 
& this was done without delay ; 
to pont large the duke tooke the way, 
& told the Knight of that cittye 
60 how itt stoode, & in what degree. 

to my talking & 1 you will take heede, 
I shall tell you of accursed deede, 
& how sinfully 2 the ffrenchmen did thore 3 
64 or our king came them before, 

ffor all the suburbs of that ffaire towne, 
both kirkes & houses, droue them downe, 
& att port Hillary the hcnd, 
08 a parish church they all to-rend ; 
of St. Hillary was the same 
that after the port bare the name ; 
and att the same port 4 downe the drew 
72 a church that was of S- Ani>i;i-;\v, 



1 for an, if. — F. 3 Nota de malicia eorvm, says the 

2 MS. sufully; and it transposes lines Egerton MS.— F. 

62 and 63.— F. • At porte Causses.- Eg. MS. 



556 



GLOSSARY. 



GEY 

gryse, ii. 448/902, grey fur ? 

(j lasts, i. 232/402, Scotch, guest, ghaist, 

English, ghost. — Brockie 
guilt, i. 172/168,170, gilt 
gurde, i. 21 6/93 ; Sc. gird, to move with 

expedition and force. — Jamieson 
gurding, i. 228/323, letting fly, shooting 
gynnc, i.480/1854, engine; 'i.491/2223, 

wile, device 
gysarmes, ii. 457/1166, " guisarme, a 

lance with a hook at the side." — 

Planche 



habergion, i. 358/1 28; i. 364/309, dim. of 
hauberk, the little throat-guard. — 
Planchi, i.110 

hallow, i. 150/173, A.-S. halig, holy 

hatch, i.l 10/65 ; iii.284/190, salute, O.N. 
heilsa, say " hail" to. hughe, or greete, 
je salue. I halse one, I take hym 
ahoute the necke, Jaccole. — Palsgrave, 
p. 577 

7wW«Z,i.217/98;i.301/27;i.306/146-7; 
372/581, saluted 

haled, ii.13/180, drew 

handfasted, i.394/1274, betrothed 

hansdl, 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 fel- 
low 

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 

hart, tooke his owne to him, i. 163/606, 
took courage 

harvenger, i.38/5, harbinger, courier, 
" one sent on to prepare harbourage 
or lodgment for his employer." — Wedg- 
wood 

hattell, i. 224/237, nobleman 

hawt . 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.l 19/150, Fr. avoir, possessions 

hawtinge, i.92/56, baiting? 



HYN 

he, i.477/1 757, they 

head, give one's horse his, i.358/124 

head, iii. 192/ 75, A.-S. heafdian, to be- 
head 

headed, iii. 321/8, beheaded 

heare, iii.63/158, hair 

heate, ii. 305/18, a promise 

heathennest, i. 63/56 ; heathinncsse, ii.l 84 
/125 ; heathynesse, i.498/3, heathen- 
dom 

hecke, iii. 285/232, the lower half of a 
stable door 

hee, i.92/56 ; 147/102, high 

heede, iii.24/134, perhaps keep. — P. 

heese, iii. 139/63, he will be, or must be 

heire, i.97/179, higher 

hend, ii.345/120, bid 

hend, i.l 52 244, gentle 

hendlye, i.427/147, gently 

Ae/^, i.l 00/263, seized; i.28/29,35,caught, 
took 

herrott, i.230/353, herald 

hctt, iii.355/877, promise; i.443/666, 
671, promised 

highinge, ii. 110/876, haste 

hu/kt, i. 439/ 558, was named 

kind, i.l 59/463 ; i.l 62/577, hend, gentle 

his, i. 387/1042, i.390/1153, ii.375/921, is 

hoe, ii.489/2058, hold, stop 

hoqlin, ii. 360/529, dear little hog 

hold, iii.25/161, to its . . .hold, i.e. held. 
—P. 

hollen, i.l 09/55, A.-S. holen, holly 

holte, iii. 58/55, a wood, a rough place. 
Holt (Sax.) a small Wood, or Grove ; 
whence the Street call'd Holborn in 
London had its Name. — Phillips (by 
Kersey). Fr. Touchedebois. 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. — Cot grave 

home, iii. 28/ 258, on whom 

homly, i. 67/153, home, close, tight 

Jinny, i. 151/203, love, sweetheart 

hore, ii. 473/1585, mud, dirt 

hose, i.67/153, cuddlo 

houed, ii.383/1151, iii. 31/358, halted 

houzle, sb. i. 57/88 ; houzle, vb. i.l 72/ 
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,iu.70l 340, hend, 
gentle 

hyndes, iii.68/279, servants 



GLOSSARY. 



557 



IAC 

iacke, iii. 415/255, leather tunic over 
the armour 

ierffaucon, ii. 451/977, gerfalcon 

iest, ii.549/632, story 

ietted, i. 42/71, marched showily 

letters, ii. 568/275, strutters 

if, iii.203/174, even if 

ilke, i. 56/52, same (time) ; i.73/278 
time 

Imupetelasze, iii.300/118, qu. MS.— F. 
himpettelaze, corruptly written for 
immortalize. — P. 

incontinent, i. 286/384, forthwith 

inde, ii. 455/1105, Fr. inde, m. Indico; 
light Blue, Blunket, Azure 

inestimable, i.288/461, not to be esti- 
mated or valued 

ingling, iii. 314/15, perhaps jingling 

inkolder, i. 283/ 78, innkeeper 

in tic, ii. 563/1 36, house 

insamc, ii. 434/501, together: A.-S. sam, 
together 

intertalked, ii.35/2 

iollye, ii.295/130, pleasure 

ioi/inge, i. 230/352, joining 

irke, i. 177/54, angry, A.-S. yr 

irke, i.361/232, dread 

is, ii.423/188, are 

is, i. 155/341, his 

is (for the possessive 's) i. 161/548 

isliucles, i. 290/513, issueless 

ishulesc, i. 274/31 ; i. 290/496, issueless 

Id, iii.45/780, I'll, I shall 

ist, ii.218/2 ; 219/30; 223/145, I'll 

it and itt, as genitives, for its, ii. 248/34 
ii.251/131 

Iudaslye, ii. 258/96, Judasly, traitorously 

iumpe, iii.369/13, lust due, right, 

even, jumpc, levell, straight. — Cot- 
grave. See Othello, A. ii. s. 2. 

luster, ii. 292/62, jouster 

I-wis, i. 19/10; 333/343, &c. : every I 
is hyphened to its wis wherever this 
word is printed, undor the belief that 
it stands for the A.-S. adverb gewis 
certainly ; but in the passage where it 
is used with as, " as I wis," ii.583 
/627, the words are of course separate, 
a pronoun and verb 

i-wis, i. 146/59, A.-S. gewis, certainly. 
I in! see " as I wis " i'i.583/627 

iwitt, i. 453/981, A.-S. gewita/i, under- 
stand 

ia ke, iii. 115/255, leather tunic over the 
armour 



KYT 

jack, i. 31 1/296, a sleeveless tunic 

jig, ii.334 

jolly, ii 422/155, merry 

jorney, iii. 239/88, a day's work 

jousts and tournaments, i.85/9, note ' 

jury, i. 196/ 39 7 



kayred, ii.62/117, passed over 

kecre, iii. 74/436, turn 

keered, i. 229/333, turned ; A.-S. cerran 

kell, ii.67/255; 502/12; 503/44, a net 
for a lady's hair, for Bredbeddle's 
wife 

kempe, ii. 606/21 9, kemperye 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 Witt, 
1. 120 

kend, ii.457/1152, taught, showed 

kere, i. 229/347, return 

kered, i.222/192; iii.61/118, turned 

ketherinckes, i.219/131,135 ; 230/351, 
Cateranes, Katheranes, Highland rob- 
bers ; Gael, and Ir. caetharnach, a 
soldier. — Jamieson. Highland or Irish 
soldiers. Gaelic, cath-fheara, fight- 
ing-men, warriors, Scotch caterans, 
kerne. — Brockie 

kin, ii.233/143, relation 

kindle care, ii.539/360 

kirtlc, iii. 180/100. Kyrtle is not upper 
petticoat, but our modern gown, a 
waist and petticoat. A kyrtle ami 
mantle completed a woman's dress. 
—Crit. Rev. Jan. 1795, p. 49 

kissed, i 449/857, the whore's euphuism 
for having connection with her, cur- 
rent in London as well as in the 
North. — Atkinson. 

kithe, ii.233/143, acquaintance 

Jdthe, iii. 74/436, A.-S. cy&, a region; 
ci/&&e, a homo, native country 

kithen, iii. 73/392 

knauc, i. 438/511, male 

kiKiur, iii. 23 97, a hoy, a male child; 
ii.547/573, page, lad 

kiimtlnlge, i. 163/585, acknowledge, eOn- 
fl'KH 

kut. iii. 130/77 

kgrrth, iii. 66/230, A.-S. eyrnin, to turn 

kijthv, iii.58j 17. region, A.-S. cy6 



538 SEEGE OFF KOUNE. 

[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 yssuyjn out onery day. 

[He bet hem in at euery schjamffull brunnt, 1 £l" g 1 ? 3E& 
128 [And wanne worschyppe] as hee was woont 

[Of alle pryncys 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, 
13G [The lorde Haryngton] here he lay. 

[Talbot, from deumfrount] when he come, 

[He loggyd hym next] that 2 groome. 

[The Erie of Yrmounde] 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 [Tbatnowecomenot]in 4 [mymyndetocounte](;i, 202 

Ek.ms"] 

. nze 



[Gap : 50 lines in Bodley MS. 124, Archceol. xxi. 55-G.] 



5 - w en . w . . [ P , r )2C of Fo]io MS> 



148 & he gran[te]d them comp[assyon, 6 ] 



1. 267 Eg. MS.] 



1 at euery broimte. — Eg. MS. And grantede hyt in compocyssyonc, 

2 ? MS. thy. that gome, Eg. MS., And selydehyt nppe-on thyscondissione, 
and adds two lines. — E. That in the water of Sayno wythouten 

3 ? MS. might.— F. lette 

4 ? MS. in t. — E. Owre sehyppis to passe forth wyth here 
* But be-lyve comawndede owre Lege, frette. 

For to go to Caudyheke and sette tlier a Bodley MS. 124, Archaql. xxi. 56. 

sege. • 6 That lie that dede wolde doo 

And whon ho come the towne before, lb' grauntyd hem in compassyon. 

They bygan to trete wythout eny more; —Eg. MS. 1. 266, 267. 
And as Rone dyde, so lliay wolde dime, 



SEEGE OFF KOUNE. 539 

soe that then without lett 

our shipps might passe w/th our [frettc] 

then passed our shipps forth in [fere,] 
152 & cast their Anchor Rowne fu[lle nere,] 

as thicke in soj^ne as they neu[er did stonde ;] ' 

then were the beseeged by watte [r and by londe.] 

& when that warwicke that end [hadde made,] 
15G 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[artynvace, 4 ] [l. 280 Eg. ms.] 

there as spitefull warr[e there was.] 
164 euer they came forth o[wte in ]>at place,] 

but then be dreuethe [hem yn a-gayne] 

manfully with migh[te and mayne ; 5 ] 

& Salsbury was fain 6 [to ryde,] [i. 283 Eg. ms.] 

168 & yett hee turned 7 [and dyd a-byde, 

[By Huntyngdon there leude] 

till the seege wa[s at an ende,] 

& the Gloster, that [gracyus home,] 8 
172 from the [sege of Chirboroughe when he [L 28SEg. ms.] 
come] 

[Gap: of about 70 lines m the Egerton MS., of 55 in the 

BodleyJ] 



1 in sayn as they myghte stonde. — Eg. Mocho worschyppe there-fore to liym 
MS. was, 

2 lie loggyd hym and was byggyngc. And soo hathe ben in euery place.— F. 
— Eg. MS. 6 Saulysbury that was svnyde. — Eg. 

8 whyle.— Eg. MS. MS. 

■' Martynvyle.— Eg. MS. 7 Yei be returnyde.— Eg. MS. 

3 Lines 163-166 occur two pages back " So in Kg. M.S., but read gome as in 
in the Egerton MS, For them here, Eg. liodley, \'l\, 

has : And then Glowsetre that worthy gome. 

— F. 



540 



SEEGE OFF EOUNE. 



. warryottr aglit ' [p . 5 . 27 of MS-] 

Knight 
t noble Knight 
176. . . .he was full right 

[Mon senoure PJewnes, this 2 was hee, p. 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] men 4 that were without 
[Of alle the Cytte ro]und about ; 
[And euery on of the]se Captaines had 
184 [V. M 1 men and moo in l]ade ; 

[And they nomberyd] were within, 5 
[Whenn oure sege] did begin, 
[To .iij. CCC. M 1 an]d ten, 
188 [Of wymmen, chyldryn,] and men ; 
[Of pepylle hyt was a grjeat rowte, 
[A kynge to lay a se]ge about. 7 
[And there-to they were fulle] hardy indeede 8 
192 [Bothe in foote and eke in] steede [i. 372 Eg. Ms.] 

er^ men 9 
. did know 



1 Mon senyour Antonye A werryour 

wyghtr, [L347] 

He was leuetenaunt to that knyghte 
Herre Ehanfewe was captayne 
Of the porte de pount cle sayne : [350] 
Iohfln Mawtrevers that man, 
Of the porte of castelle was captayne. 

—Eg. MS. 

And Mowne-Syr Antony, a werryour 
wy3te, 

He was levetenawnte under that kny3te. 

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 Archsol. xxi. 59. 

2 Pennewys thenne. — 1\^. MS. 

3 Tlic Bastarde of Teyne in that 

wliylo [1. :;:,:,] 

Was captayne of porte Martynvyle 



And gaunt Iaket or Iakys of werrys 

wyse 
He was captayne and alle so tli6 

pryce. — Eg. MS. 

4 skarmoschys.— Eg. MS. 

5 And whenn they wolde rayse alle the 

comynalte 
Many a thousande myghtfi they be ; 
Men nomberyd them w/tA-yn. — Eg. 
MS. 

6 a proude store. — Eg. MS. 

7 a sege be-fore. — Eg. MS. 

8 MS. ded indeede.— F. hardy in dede. 
—Eg. MS. 

9 And als prowde men as euyr I save, 
And poyntys of warre many one dyd 

shewe. 

Whenn they yssuyd owt, mosto co- 
in ynly 

They come not owte in one party ; 

At ij. gatys, or iij. or alle, [l. 877] 

Sodynly they dyd owte falle. — Eg. 



SEEUE OFF KOUNE. 



541 



to come out 
e port 



MS. Thero are 33 pages more in the 
Egerton MS. 

Men nombrod of hem that were withinne, 
Ffurste when owiv Sejjc <ran to heginne, 
Unto four hundred thewsande and ten, 
Off wymmen, off chyldren, 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 

k n ewe, 



And mony poyntcs of werre they wolde 

shewe. 
Eut when they wolde come owte comenly, 
They camo nott owte alle on a party, 
Nether at two gates, nor at thre, but at 

alle 
Sodaynly they wolde out falle: 
Eodley MS. 124, in Archaol. xxi. p. 59-60. 

There are above 18 pages more in 
vol. xxi., in all 946 lines ; the rest, up to 
1. 1312, arc (with the prior lines from 
1. G86) in Archcsol. xxi. p. 371-3S4.— F. 



542 



[g>tul) a £ober am E : ] 

Tins 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 medmmque 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, 

I forget her. 



uUCH a Lover am I : 

'Tis too late to deny 

That for a refusall I never can dye ; 2 

Yet my Temper is such, 

And that's very mnch, 

My Passion Re-Kindles at every Touch ; 

But if once I doe find 

My Mistress vnkind, 

Why then her past favours are quite out of mind. 



I don't cry 
and bother 

myself. 



My Courage Il'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 M.S. — F. 

later hand. It has initial apostrophes, * Lino 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. ILeepo. — F. 



SUCH A LOVER AM I. 543 

ffor if like a fond Swaine If J did P ine > 

I should pine & complaine, 

Slie'l scornfully Trivmph, & laugh at my paync, *£%*** 

1 G Or if I shold crave cowards 

In Revenge the Cold Grave : for * 

Ho that Dyes for a woman, can nere be that brave. [&«*.] ' 

Hang Cupid and Venus ! nere menc/on them Cupid! 
more ! 
20 Such pitifull Powers I scorne to adore ! 

Since I bv Kind Nature my Libertye have, if I'm free, 

^ j j -why should 

'Twere base that such Bug-bares should make me l ma ^f 

o myself 

their slaves : ^ove' % 

slave t 

I manfully acknowledge my selfe farr above that ab ° V ° 

24 That childish Idoletry, miscalled Love. nonsense. 

Mars, Baccus, Apollo, are much more divine, Bacchus 

Theire Biusinesse farr Nobler, much brisker their Venus! 

wine. 
A wedded Condicibn contributes noe ease ; 
28 Wife, Children, and Servants, disorder their 
peace. 
When heartye ffreinds fayl, my true Comforts of i^f 11 ,"^., 

Tj{f e then I'll turn 

' desperate 

I then may turne desperate, & thinke of a Wife. and marr ^'- 



544 



2ippent>iji\ 



I. LEOFFKICUS. 

\Bodl. MS. 240, p. 359, col. 1, by John of Teynemouth.] 



Item de euentibus illiws tewiporis cap. 
99. 

l Haraldw« et tostiws filij godwini dum 
apwd Windesoram vimiwi regi propin- 
assent . capillis et ma»ib;<s mutuo co«fii- 
gebawt . quorum infortunium ventuniM 
static prophetauit rex edwardns . Ha- 
raldHs comes uoleras visere fratrem 
ifuum et nepote??t qui apud -Williehmcm 
ducem normaHiiie obsides evant tem- 
pestate actws delates est pontunimra. 
Quern consul terre tradidit duci Williel- 
mo . Harakb?s -Mitcqxam euadere posset . 
iurauit duci quod filiam e'uis duceret . et 
Angliamad op«s ems smiaret . 3 Mortuo 
Henrico .2. iwipcratore . successit Henri- 
es 3 U " qui regnauit awnis 50 . Stepbanus 
.9. abbas de monte cassino . sedit post vic- 
tore?M me«sib?<s .8. Benedicts .10. sedit 
pupa mewsibMS .9. qui violewter intrusus 
postmodwrecessit . 4 Circa bee tempera go- 
diua comitissa, coue»tr/am a groui srrui- 
tute liberare affectaws, leofricum comite;« 
assiduis precibws sollicitauit ut sancte 
trinitatis dei quod gewitricis intuitu vil- 
lain apred/c<a seruitute absoluerct . Pro- 
Inbuit comes ne de cetfro rem sibidawp- 
nosam inaniter postularet . Ilia nutem 
ylvum indesinenter de petickrae pranissa 



exasperans . tale ransuwi extorsit ab eo 
" Ascende," iwqwit, " equum tmvn nuda a 
ville inic/o usque ad fine???, pop?do con- 
gregate- . et earn redieris postulara im- 
petrabis ." Genere godiua deo dilecta . 
equum ascendens nuda crines capitis et 
tncas dissoluews . corpws totum pretcr 
crura inde velauit . Itinere eo?«pleto . A 
nemine visa ad viru;w gaudens reuersa est . 
LeofricMs uero couentrirtra a s«-uitute li- 
berauit . cartas suam inde faeta;« sigilli 
muuimiwe roborauit . et cito post obijt . 
et apud couentrifflW, in monasterio quod 
ipse const ruxerat, sepult?<s est . 5 Vbi et 
brachium sancti Augustini doctoris ha- 
betur, arge?;tea tecba inclusum . q«od 
egelnoth?(s Axchiejyiscopus rediens a roma 
apud papiara vrbem aliquando emit .100. 
talentis argenti . Hie leofric?(S reparauit 
et ditauit mowastma leonense hixta 
Hereford^. 6 Weneloccnse et i« Lege- 
cestria sancte Werburge . sanctiqite iohan- 
nis . Wigornense quoque et euisham- 
[ense] In Alamannia seotorora monas- 
t-rium combustum est . qwod quidem 
incendiura . quida?« monachus paternws 
nomine diuan^'pralixerat 7 .Hie propter 
propositus reclusionis exire nolens . se 
comburi passus est. 



II. 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. 



L620. 1056. 14. 
infra cod. libro. c. 110. 
1621. L057. 15. 
Florea histor/a. 



5 owmbrachinmamcKAugJtrtini magni doctoris. 
■ note ilc Leomenstria iuxta Herefordiam. 
' 1<J. 1058. l(i:j-2. 



NUT-BROWN MAYD. 545 

Wommew be bob' good and trewo, 
Wytnesse of maryc. 

Of hondes and body and face arn clene, 
Wommew mown now bet<r bene, 
In euery place it is sene, 
Wytnesse of marie. 

It is knowyw, and cuere was, 
\>cr a wommaw is in plus, 
Wommaw is b° welle of gras, 
Wytnesse [of Marie.] 

)>ey louyw mew with herte trewe, 
Ho wyl not chaungyw for now newe ; - 
Wommew ben of wordys ffewe, 
Wytnesse [of Marie.] 

Wommew ben trewe wit/j-out lesyng, 
Wommew be trewe in alle bing, 
And out of care |>ey mown vs bryng, 
Wy r tnesse 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 Koxbnrghe 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 Eoberd of Brunne says, 

. . no byng ys to man so dere 

As wo»«manys loue yn gode manere. 

A gode womman ys mawnys blys 

bere here loue v$$t and stodfast ys : 

J>ere ys no solas vndyr heuene 

Of alle bat a man may neuene, 

Jmt shuld a man so moche glew 

As a gode womman \>at loueth trew. 

Ne derer ys none yn Goddys hurdo 

J>an a chaste wo/wmau w//|> Louely wrde. 

Handling Bynne, p. 62, 1. 1901-13. 



VOL. III. N N 



546 



INDEX. 



A Cauilere 

A Louer off Late 

A Prop[h]ecye .... 

Adam Bell, Clime of the dough, \ 

and "William of Cloudeslee J 
JEneas and Dido 
Alffonso and Ganselo . 
Amintas ..... 
Are Women faire 
As yee came from the Holye 

Land ..... 



Balowe 
Bosworth Feilde . 



Carle off Carlile . 
Christopher White 
Come, my dainty Doxeys 
Come, pretty Wanton . 
Coridon 
Cressus 



Darkesome Cell 
Death and Liffe 



Edward the Third 



Gentle Heardsman 
Great or Proude . 



Hee is a Foole . 
Hero and Leander 



I am 

In olde Times paste , 
In the Dayes of Olde 



Kinge Edgar 
Kinge Humber 



Ladyo Bessiye . 
Leoffricua (or Godiva) 



PAGE 

366 
389 
371 

76 

260 
507 
450 
364 

465 



515 
233 



275 
494 
313 
385 
530 
301 



Lulla, Lulla! 



TAGE 

387 



123 
49 



457 



524 
391 



386 
295 



529 
119 
441 



485 
435 



319 
473 



Marke More Foole 
Maudline ..... 
Murthering of Edward the Fourth 
his Sonnes .... 



Now the Springe is come 

O Noble Festus . 

Patient Grissell . 

Proude where the Spencers 

Queene Dido 



127 
374 

162 



230 



Scroope and Browne 
Seege off Boune . 
Sir Andrew Bartton 
Sir Cawline 
Sir Degree . 
Sir John Butler . 
Songs of Shepardes 
Such a Louer am I 



. 269 



. 421 
. 478 



499 



431 

5:12 
399 
1 
16 
205 
303 
542 



The Drowning of Henery the I 

his Children . 
The Fall of Princes . 
The Lauinian Shore . 
The Nutt-browne Maid 
The Pore Man & the Kinge 
The Rose of Englande 
The Spanish Ladies Love 
The Squier . 
Thomas of Potte 
To Oxfforde 



Will Stewart and John 
William the Conquerour 
Wininge of Cales 



Younge Cloudeslee 



156 
168 
308 
174 
195 
187 
393 
263 
135 
315 



215 
453 



102 



547 



GLOSSARY. 

Almost all the words are explained in the notes where they first occur. The 
meanings are therefore put shortly here. G'-m rally, only one reference is given. 
The French words are from Cotguave, except where another authority is named. 



ABO 

abone, i. 364/307, above, outside 

abotts <m you ! ii. loo/ 186 

acenmpackement, i. 430/249, a compact 

acton, i.358/127; i.359/173, a wadded 
or quilted tunic worn under the hau- 
berk. — Blanche, i.108 

aduanting, i. 105,342, boasting 

afterclap, ii.399/184 ; afterclappe, i.435 
/429 

againe, i. 93/85, gain, get to 

agoe, iii.26/215 ; 46/819, goue 

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 ffere, iii. 281/103, together. Per- 
haps all i'ii fire. — P. 

alle, i. 362/247, ale 

allyanee, ii.58/7, alions 

ally ants, iii. 241/146, aliens. — P. Alliant 
or ally, one that is in league, or of 
kindred with one. — Blount, 1656 

nl in r, i. 1 -43, purse, money-bag 

alyant, i. 215/61, alien 

ancetryc, iii.240/127, ancestry 

ancyent, i. 303/77, ensign, flag 

aneyents, ii.480/1789, heroes of old 

and, iii.63/171, an 

$, i. 367/405; ii.44/1, an 

and, i.96/159, if 

# . . #, i. 369/463, if . . and 

$, i.450/899, that, who 

-null, imp. part., i.26/5 

ane, i. 101/305, one 

anonwright, i. 152/241, at once 

(ijnu/il, ii. 559/49, pleased 

apligkt, i. 428/187 ; 472/1602, at once 

a ply, i. 153/287, bend, yield 

appay, ii. 508, 271. own estimation? 

applyed, i.191/263, bent to, performed 

N N 



ASS 

apud, ii.265, in 

archboarde, iii. 407/91, ship, or side of a 

ship 
arkward, i.386/1029; 387/1055, ? awk- 
ward, 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. assail, to acquit, 
cleer, or pardon : to absolve. — Bul- 
lokar's Diet, 
a-steere, i. 357/1 12, astir, on the qui vios 
astyte, i.l08jl93, at once, quickly 
astyte, or tytc, ii, 430/379, quickly 
att, i.391/1173, from 
att device, i. 158/435, elegantly, splendidly 
aitilil, i. 228/318, prepared, made ready 
attUde, i. 221/180; 228/318, made ready 
attilde, i. 385/992, dealt, struck 
auant, i. 150/192, boast. Fr. avanter 
iirinil, iii. 71/366, boast. "I avaunte or 

1). >sl en iy self," je me vatlte. — I'i//s,/rii US 

avanted, iii. 253/481, advanced, raised 

avanting, i. 160/506, boasting 

avayle, iii. 226 ,279, pull down, from Fr. 

a vol. 
avoyde, 1 go oul of a place, 1 avoyde out 

of ii. Je vuide. — Palsgrave 
awise, i. 233/410 ? miawritten for "a 

noise." 
awondred, i. 466/1112, astonished 
axsy, i.143, ask, A. -.Sax. acsian 
2 



548 



GLOSSARY. 



BAC 

bacheeleere, iii.6/61, knight 

hachdours, iii. 59/78, knights 

badgers, ii. 205/31, corn-dealers 

baue, 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,\\. 564/177> Pbondship^llen- 

age, or fellowship. Sc. band, bond, 

obligation. — Jamieson. 
bane, iii. 21/53, perhaps lane. — P. 
banety, iii. 66/247, kindly 
bann, i. 55/31, curse 

barathron, iii. 76/406, the Latin bara- 
thrum, an abyss, used to signify hell. 

— Dyce 
barme, ii. 438/629, bosom 
In trues, iii. 59/81, children, human crea- 
tures. — P. 
barrison, ii. 580/ 561, for warrison, gift, 

reward 
harronrye, i. 158/442, collection, or jury, 

of barons 
harronrye, i. 277/1 18, 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. — Cot grave, 1611 
bashed, i. 225/252, abashed 
battdl, 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. 41 3/208, 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 decne, ii.224, Dutch, bij dicn, forth- 

wit h 
bedonc, 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 Tryamourc, ed. Hal li well, Percy 
Soc. 1846, p. 55, 1. 1636-8 

Two kyngys the deyse began, 

Syr Egyllamoure and Crystyabelle 
than 
Sir Eglanwur, p. 173, 1. 1259-60 
began, i. 115/595, gone over, done over, 

dressed 
began, i.394/1279, covered, ornamented 

with 
behappned, i. 356/73, happened to 
behcard, i.236/23,31. heard, i.309/229 
behoues, iii. 25/165, is of use to 
beleeue, ii.7 1/355, be leal, loyal, true 
Mw, i. 21/48, suddenly ; 223/212 quickly 
belyeth, i.458/1177, belies, tells lies, 

against 
benhow, 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 ? 
berayc, iii. 24/ 138, bewray 
bere, i.383/924, noise, cp. bray, iii. 62/ 1 44 
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, Men accoustr'e. — 

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, GPbodly betide 

him ; some bodie spit in his mouth, 

for now he hath it sure. — Cotgrave 
hctrainc, i.459/1185, betrayed 
bet/, i. 36 1/238, remedied, relieved 
bett, ii.485/1928, beat, perfect 
bett, iii.36/490, better, larger 
bett, i. 168/ 53, lighted, A.-Sax. bctan, to 

Light a fire 
bettell, ii. 574/408, toll of, betray 
btwept, ii.373/858, lamented, wept for 
bickered, i. 213/27, foughi. Welsh Hera, 

to fight 
biddon, i.356/79, stayed ; 368/455; no 

/580, remained 



GLOSSARY. 



549 



BIG 

bigged, iii.72/383, built 
bigglye, iii. 72/390, mightily 
bued, ii.306/34, drew near 

iilhi, in nls, ii. 330/66, ornaments ? 

bine, iii. 67/254, ? for pyne (seo byne) ; or 
trick, slaughter 

birth, iii. 66/231, hulk, burthen 

birtled, ii.310/173, cut up 

bisse, iii.428/119, white silk; bissus, 
qwite silko. Gloss, in Bdiq. Ant. 
i.7, col. 1. " Pure white sylke, soye 
bissine." — Palsgrave, bissines, silken 
words. — Cotgrave 

hitter, iii. 28/255, A.-S. bitcl, beetle 

blacke, ii. 403/54, ? blacking 

hlanehmere, iii. 41/652, ? a kind of fur 

blanks, ii. 164/12, a half-sous, half-penny 

blanked, i. 228/328, pierced point blank 

Marked, iii.326/132 ; 337/412, blanked ; 
blank, pale and won, that is, out of 
countenance. — Phillips 

blaundemere, ii. 420/129, a kind of fur 

bled, i. 362/246, bled dry, bloodless 

blee, ii. 306/50, colour, hue 

blee, iii. 59/65, complexion ; S. bleoh, color 

blenched, iii. 57/32, shrunk, started, leaned 
towards 

blend, i.236/ 30; 134/18, mixed 

bleeue, i. 162/555, believe 

Minn, 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 

Mythe, iii.38/551, A.-S. hli&e, glad 

board, ii. 298/69, lodge and feed 

bole, iii. 57/32, (country word) the main 
Body, or Stock of a Tree— -Phillips 

bombard, iii. 253/491. Fr. Bomharde. A 
Bumbard, or murthering peece. — Cot- 
grave 

bondsman, ii.557, note. See Essay on 
Bondman in vol. ii. 

bone, i. 381/881, village, Flemish bonne, 
Sw. boning, Du. mooning, Germ, woh- 
nen. From the same root as waine. — 
Brockic. ? like bane, i. 377/749, A.-S. 
bana, hona, 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 

/mulish, iii. 58/58, perhaps tumid, swel- 
ling, rounded 

boome, i. 66/ 122, 1 suspect" Lodlyboome" 



BBB 

is an error of the copyist for "lodly 
loone." — Brockie. Log?, dwarf 

boote, i.47/6, compensation, A.-S. hut 

bord, i.93/83, table 

bord, ii. 372/837, side 

bore, i. 213/27, boar, Richard II.'s badge 

bore, i.452/967, ? lore, lost 

borrowe, i. 472/1612, surety 

In u- rowed, ii. 532/ 161, rescued 

bote, i.474/1661, bit 

bourd, i. 379/811, jest 

bourde, ii. 557/10, merry tale 

limited, 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. 65/21 6, ready, prepared 

bowned, i. 396/1325, made ready 

bowneth, i, 219/145, goes, journeys 

bowsing, ii, 54/61, tree-drinking 

bradd, i. 221/176, moved quickly, flew 

bradd, iii. 63/1 75, to draw, to pull 

bradde, i. 453/989, broadened, spread 

bradden, i.228/312, flew 

braggatt, ii. 563/141, honey and ale fer- 
mented. See a recipe from the Haven 
of Health in Nares 

braid, ii.381/1090, dropt, fell; ii.65/ 
188, leapt 

brake, ii. 119/1112, cut up 

brake of fear ne, i. 27/11, in bracken or 
fern 

brasyd, i. 115/655, embraced 

brairders, 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) sud- 
den 

brayde, att a, iii. 90/366, suddenly 

bread, ii. 105/740, breadth 

bread e, 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 

bri me, i. 92/36 ; iii.57/34, fierce 

hrei U////I . iii. 7 1 36 I, fiercely . furiously 

brest, speares in, ii. 240/63 ? not for rest 
but up to the breast ; so in Maleore's 
DIort Darthur 

tin tin ■■/-, ii.'Joii .">('>. brethren 

hr, uelye, iii. 68/283, bremely, — P. ? brief- 

ly.-F. 



550 



GLOSSARY. 



BRE 

brewicc, ii.574/389, broth, pottage 

bringer-up, i.332/332 

broche, iii. 60/94, an ornament, jewel, 

clasp. — P. 
brodinge, iii.C/63, brode, to prick. G.D. 

—P. ? breadthe : cp. 1. 76.— F. 
broked, i.356/82, rejected, lost? 
brooke, ii. 388/1279, enjoy, possess 
brooke, iii. 13/167, broke, i.e. enjoy. — 

P. 
brotherlinge, i. 426/1 34, nincompoop: 

britheling, worthless, a rascal. Cp. 

0. Eng. brothel. — H. Coleridge 
bruche, i. 184/58, 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. 15 
bryke, i. 232/401, ravine, fissure, breach 

or break in the surface, Dan. brak : 

or, unploughed land, Du. braak. 

— Brockie 
buchett, iii. 345/634, budget 
buff, i.517/14, a leather coat 
bufe, i.83/76, ? for buske, arm 
budded, i. 27/11. beilded, sheltered : Old 

Norse bceli, 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 Men sont 

amourettes soubs bureau que sous 

brunettes: Prov. Loxie playes his 

pranks as well in Cotes as Courts. — 

Cot grave 
busk, 1.91/9 ; 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 si;/, 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 
hit if, iii.67/254, unless. — P. 
butt', ii.232, note 8 

by, iii. 3/5, of; iii. 27/242, about, con- 
cerning 
by, shold by, should go by, hold to, i. 

157/405 
bydeene, i. 472/1 614, at once, forthwith 
bye, iii.56/16, abye, A.-S. abicgan. 
bygan the dese, i. 115/602, took the 



CHA 

highest place at the table. See began 
byne, ii. 86/160, pyne, punishment 

cainell bone, i.387/1041, tho clavicle or 
neckbone. See cannellc-boon in Babces 
Book Index 
caltrappys, iii. 537/113, Pr. chaussetrape: 
f. A Caltrop or iron engine of warre, 
made with foure pricks or sharp points, 
whereof one, howsoeiier it is cast, euer 
stands vpward. — Cotgrave 
can, i.455/1049, knowest; ii.429/353, 
know. " I can skyll of a crafte or 
science. Je ine 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. 125/9, 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. 71/347, pierced 
cast, i.369/491, device, trick 
causyc, ii. 428/320, causeway . Fr. chaussee, 
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 
chaffe, iii. 103/42, ? for clmffc, a term of 

reproach 
chaffing, i. 56/55, heating 
chalengeth, iii.132/123, Fr. chalcngcr, to 

claime, challenge 
chalishing.\.389l 1 1 1 6, bother, fuss. " Sir 
Gray-Steeles desired that there should 
be ' noe chalishing' fur his death, that 
is, no procession of priests at his fune- 
ral, no religious rites. Chalice, the 
communion cup. He did not want to 
be chaliced." — Brockir 
champaind, i. 158/458, ? ornamented in 

some way 
chandlers, ii. 70/311 ; chandlours, ii.567 

/248, candlesticks 
chape, ii. 582/606. " I chape a Bworde, or 
dagger. I put a chape on the sluthe. 



GLOSSARY. 



551 



CHA 

' Je mets la bouterolle.' What shall 
I gyve the to chape my dagger." — 
Palsgrave 

ckarke-bord, iii.409; 114,? same as arche- 
bord, 1. 91 

cheape, ii.539/369 ; chcepe, i.179/102, 
A. -Sax. ceap, a bargain 

chccre, i. 446/768, state, condition 

cheeue, ii. 563/ 152, thrive 

chest of tree, ii. 461/1263, chestnut tree ? 

chiualrye, i. 494/2314, chiualrous, mag- 
nificent, fighting 

choppes, ii. 570/314, blows? 

christall, iii.75/446, kyrtle. ? petticoat 

Christendoms, i. 452/962 ; ii. 369^753, 
christening 

Christentie, i.45/139, Christendom 

chime, ii. 537/314, chin 

churle, Hi. 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 con- 
sidered the more correct. C'lam'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 

rail 

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 

eoate-armor, ii. 192/50, tabard 

cockebotte, iii. 160/99, kockebotte for a 
shyppe, cocquet. — Palsgrave. Nassel- 
lette : f. A small skiffe, scull, or eoeke- 
boat. Nasselle : f. A skiffe, wherrie, 
or cock-boat. — Cot grave 

cockward, i. 65/94, 106, cuckold 

coice, iii.97/564. Qu. chose. — P. 

cold, i.70/198 ; 457/1125, knew 

cold, i. 11 1/89; 385/980, did 

colled, ii. 493/2151, ciirled 

colour, iii. 60/89. Qu. collar 

combrance, i. 448/825, encumbrance, ill- 
doing, stratagem 

comen, i. 220/150, coming 

comment, i.29/47, read comment, convent, 
lot 

comunye, i.66/ 125, communing, consult- 
ation 



GUM 

confounde, ii. 386/1213, perish 
contrition, ii. 547/585, lamentation 
cooasten, i. 224/235, marched 
coparsonarye, i. 275/64, coparceny 
cojppe, i. 28/20, head 

cori/iiiant, 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 coun- 
tenanoe, m. et f. J 'ronce.— Pal 'sg rare, 
p. 330, col. 2 
downier, 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 of warr, a, ii. 292/49, tilt, joust 
courtnoUs, ii. 151/80, courtiers 
couthe, i. 433/339, known 
cowle-tree, ii.440/680, cowlstaff, a big 
pole. Fr. tine, a Colestaffe or Stang ; 
a big staffe whereon a burthen is 
carried betweene two on their should- 
ers. — 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 coni- 
panie. — Cotgrave 
coyse, ii. 53/29, ? coyle, fuss, or Fr. cause, 

chat, and thence carouse 
crcame, iii.74/438, chrism, sacred oil 
creepers, ii. 151/68, lice 
crickc, ii.323/12, louse 
crinkle, ii.308/114 
cristinty, i. 41/48, Christendom 
crochc, i.514/155, crouch 
crowclr, ii. 422/ 149, a kind of fiddle 
crownuckles, ii.451/983, note; spear- 
heads 
crownall, ii. 451/993, coronel ; see note ', 

p. 451 
crownalls, ii.477/1712, spearheads 
cropc, i. 360/1 88, crept 
crowt, ii.308/114, curl up 
cryance, iii. 7/82 ; MS. cryamcc, fear ; 

Old Fr. criente, crainte 
cth for teh, i. 23/73; ii. 139/76, macth, i. 

228/316 
eucholJ, ii. 310/150,161, cuckold 
cumber, i. 197/416, distress, torture 



552 



GLOSSARY. 



CUR 



DRA 



cursing, i. 435/415, state of excommuni- 
cation, heathenness 
cut-tailed clog, i.20/17, note 2 

Whistle's Cut-tayle from his play, 
And along with them he goes. 
1627. — Brat/ton's Shepheards Sirena. 
cuffed, i.27/10; i.29/44, short-frocked, 
generally curtail. Fr. Boussin : A Cur- 
tall or strong German horse. — Cot. 



dain, i.366/371, ? corner, or hole, spying- 
place 

dained, iii. 66/226, ordained, bade. — 8k. 
The context wants the meaning — was 
told to.— F. 

dale, ii. 76/482, share 

dange, i.359/166, dashed, struck 

if miger, ii. 566/ 207, endanger 

(lunger, i.472/1611, power 

(/((;/^r,i.471/1598, difficulties, hesitation 

daredst, iii.74/419 

darr, ii. 73/395, hurt 

dayntye, iii.68/281, delight 

dead, i.100/258, death. Mr. Peacock 
says, a Lincolnshire woman told him 
that she " would rather he nibbled to 
dead with ducks, than live with Miss 
— ; she is always a nattering." — Mirk, 

P- 73 
(haiie, i.444/693, injury ? 

chared, iii. 69/31 2, destroyed, injvired 

ill nrfe, i.213/25 ; fierce, ' great, bold, O.N. 
d'iarfr, Sw. tf/er/',strong,bold.' — Morns 

dearne, i.464/1356, A.-S. dearn, secret 

drrke, ii.403/58, pack of cards 

deede, iii.134/184, death 

deene, ii. 559/48, e'en, evening 

dr.ee, i.364/320; iii.238/79, A.-S. dar, 
clam, 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: Fr. 
delay, in Law, a day given for appear- 
ance, or for the bringing in or amend- 
ing of a plea. — Cot grave 

delfe, i.445/732, delven, buried 

delicates, ii.285/145, delicacies 

1 1 liuerlye, i. 358/ 13 5, nimbly 

demeaning, ii. 442/727, walk or ride ; Fr. 
demener, to stirre much, mooue to and 
fro, remone often 

derfe, i.228/329, fierce ; i.213/32. hard ; 
iii. 7(1/325. cruel 

descase, ii. 561/106, harm 



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 
(light, i. 466/1434, make ready 
(light, iii.44/736, deck'd, dressed 
(light, i. 355/54, conditioned 
dight, ii. 543/468, used up 
dild, iii.107/122, yield it, requite 
clilffull, iii.257/603, doleful 
dill, 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.' — Kussell in Babces Book, 

150/514 
dispence, i.286/392, dispensation 
distance, ii, 115/996, dispute, difference 
distayned, i. 357/89, worsted, vanquished 
distcre, ii.456/1107, destrier, war-horse 
dhworship, 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 
clop, iii. 103/21 ; dope, i.e. do open. — P. 
doubt, i.48/14 ; iii. 74/439, fear 
doubtfull, iii. 259/649, fearful, dreadful 
doug'ht, ii.332/122, enjoyed 
doughtilye, iii. 75/447, valiantly, reso- 
lutely, undauntedly 
dovne, iii. 25/183, perhaps done. — P. 
doxic, Fr. Gueuse : f. A woman begger, 
a she rogue, a great lazie and hmzie 
queane ; a Boxie or Mort. — Cotgrave 
drayned, i. 221/1 74, dawned 



GLOSSABY. 



553 



DEE 

dreadfullye, i. 470/1563, in great dread 

dree, iii. 73, :; ( .)7, rndure, hold out, A.-S. 

dreogan, Goth, driugan, to serve as a 

soldier, fight, to hold out in fighting. 
dright, iii. 57/38, great, noble, fine, A.-S. 

driht 
drouffhten, i.214,35, A.-S. drihten, tho 

Lord, God 
drouyers, ii.8/32, drivers of the deer 
druryes, iii.(i()/87, lovelinesses, graces 
drye, iii. 67/263; dry,drieii,o[ld]w[or(l'\, 

suffer, Coles's Eug. Diet. 1677.— V. 
dunge, iii.65/211, dang 
dungen, i.213,32, beaten, Scotch ding, 

to beat, Isl. daengia. — Jamieson 
dimisk, iii. 133. 160. ?dunny, deaf, stupid 
dunned, i.228/329, resounded 



a/sing, iii. 267/1 13. See note 

ca.iinend, i. 361/222, 230, attention, doc- 
toring 

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 

eMres,ii. 577/468, wild swans, or? omelettes 

ernes, ii. 43 1/434, uncle's, A.-S. eain, uncle 

en/ante, 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. ' slayes thou' i. 20/21 ; 
see gables 

ethe, i.396/1352, easy 

euereche, i. 486/2070, every 

eues, ii.437/601, eaves, overarching trees 

euyes, ii. 75/450, ivies 

examiter, iii. 31 8/39, hexameter 

cze[n], i.28/39, hose? 



faikine, i.43/90 

faine, iii. 79/69, glad 

faire, iii. 75/450, fair thing 

'fulling, iii. 197/5. This transitive sense 
of the verb to fall is common in Staf- 
fordshire, where people always speak 
of falling a tree instead of felling it. 
— V. 

fame, ii. 80/12, evil report, disrepute 

famed, ii. 100/570, defamed 

fane, ii. 383/1 137. vane, weathercock 

farden, iii. 63/165, i.e. fared, passed, 
went, were. —P. 



FFO 

fare, ii.355/402, went 

fare, i.472/1608, doing, business, object 

farr, i.232/404, ? fare, go 
farren, i.391/1165, fared 

fate, f ute, i. 30/51, whistle 
faugh, i.228/315, fallow ground. Scotch, 
fauch, " Tenants' fauch gars lairds 
lauch." — Brockie 
fay, i.94/92, faith, Fr./oi 
fayrye, ii.472/1540, enchantment 
fcare, i. 158/454; 178/72, company 
feared, i.378/756, frightened 

felly, i.325/123, savagely 
fend, i.21/32, ward off; ii.61/78, defend 
fended, i.365/346, guarded, fought 

fettle, i. 221/163, in constant use in Staf- 
fordshire, ' to prepare or get ready.' — - 
E.V. 
fere, i. 355/41, mate, lover 

ferlc, i. 233/41 3, wonderful; or ferse, 
fierce 

fet, i.149/166, fetch 

fett, ii.328/19, fetch 

fettled, i.221/183, set to work quickly 

fettled, i.231/388, prepared 

fcttlen, i.227/304, get ready 

few, i.213/17, ? for fele, many 

ffaine, iii.31/340, glad 

ffaley, ii.588/766, ? ferley, wonderful 

ffarc, ii. 547/583, going-on, grief 

ffarley, ii. 229/36, wondrous 

ffarrand, ii. 572/353, 358, looking 

ffaxe, iii.326/121, faxe, hair. A.-S. 
feax 

ffayre, iii. 59/64, i.e. fair thing, fair crea- 
ture, see 1. 450. — P. 

jl) ah!, iii.285/239, a truss of straw.— P. 

feareth, iii.68/282, frighten 

ffeate, ii. 545/ 533, natty, handy 

ffeere, in, iii. 44/ 763, together 

ffeiht, iii.502/25, fet, fetched 

ffeley, ii. 451/994, savago? 

felted, ii. 435/548, feeled, felt 

ffere, iii. 77/20, companion 

ffetteled, ii. 230/60, made ready 

fflax, iii, 266/93. A.-S. feax, hair of 
tho head 

ffleeringe, iii.73/412, ? hYinge 

fflome, ii. 125, 251, river 

Jlloutc.i, ii.577, 168, elieesecakea 

flourished, ii.485/1913, ornamented 

ffome, iii. 263/5, sea, qu. — P. 

food, ii.385/1195, lady, dame 

ffoode, i. 456/1 084, imp, child 

ffootmanshipp, iii. 531/25, running, speed 

for, iii.291/420, through 



554 



GLOSSARY. 



FFO 

jjorbott, iii.113/313, see Vol. I. p. 18, 
note. " I fende to Goddes forbode it 
shuldo be so : a Dicu ne playsc 
qx'aynsi il aduicngne." — Pcdsgravc, 
p. 548, col. 1 
ffnrceth not, iii. 370/29, doesn't mind 
fore, iii. 285/228, fared 
for/arc, ii.459/1200, destroy 
'for! ore, iii. 45/ 790, lost 
forthinketh, iii.96/548, repents. "I 
repente me, I forthynke me. Je me 
repens. — Palsgrave, p. 686, col. 2 
ForthinJc, o[ld], to be griered in mind.— 

Coles sEng. Diet. 1677 
fforthought, i'ii.333/304, repented of 
forward, agreement, ii. 461/ 1271 
ffounded, ii.544/493, tried 
ffraihe, iii 61/130, to ask or desire. — 

Phillips 
frail kish, ii.590/826, ? liberal, OT French 
ffrcake, iii.62/157, freke, homo, a human 

creature. — Lye 
ffreane, ii.534/224, ask 
ffrecledge, ii.564/176, condition?; but 
frcelage, an heritable property as dis- 
tinguished from a farm. — Jamieson 
ffreelye, ii. 385/1195, A.-S. frcolic, noble, 

lordly 
from, iii. 265/76, ? frame: cp. ffrane, 

1. 153 
froterye, ii.577/468, fritters 
ffrowtc, ii. 588/771, hit, punch 
filul, i.441/594. defiled 
filing*, ii. 276/118, 124, defiling, dirtying 
flaugh, i.71/227, flew 
fleame, i.472/1624, A.-S. flyman, banish 
flcamed, i.435/426 ; ii.133/1526, ban- 
ished 
florenees, i.393/1232; 396/1350; ii.89/ 

238, florins 
flytc, 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 fudcr oder stuckfass rheinischen 
weins, so sechs ohm oder swey hundert 
mid vierzig stubchen halt, a tun of 
Rhenish wine ; a great fat containing 
two buts or 240 gallons. — Ludvig 
fooder, L2 16/94, A.-S. fo%cr, a mass, 

load 
force, i. 100/266, matter, consequence 
force, i. 288/455; need, necessity 
fordoe, i. 157/408, destroy 
fore/end, i. 100/277, forbid 



GAR 

forefendant, i. 150/191, forfend, forbid 
fore/ore, i. 9 1/33, 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 
forlainc, 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 
forwarder, i.l 14/536, agreements ; A.-S. 

forewcard, an agreement 
forward, ii. 192/43, foreguard, advance- 
guard 
fosters, ii.116/1037; ii. 117/1058, for- 
esters 
fowlc, i.223/231, bird 
fox, ii.54/43, make drunk 
'fraye, that, i. 365/341, at that seizure 
frcake, i. 214/50, warrior 
frencd, ii. 385/1201, framed, asked _ 
fronse, iii.366/last line, a sore in a 

hawk's mouth 
frythes, i. 357/105, fords, passages, Germ. 
furth, furt ; Scan, fiird; Swed. fiirj. 
■ — Brockie. cp. ryding ^>/«<t.s. i.383/ 
937. Vadum a forthe, Bel. Ant. i.9, 
col. 1. 
fwbrished, i. 391/1 192, sorely bruised 
furley, ii. 68/280, wonder 
'furlcy, 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 
filling, i. 30/54, whistling 
fylc,\. 445/727, defile 



gables, i.454/1027, gabbiest, talkcst stuff 

and nonsense 
gainest, iii. 65/208, gain, clever, handy, 

ready, dextrous. — Johnson 
gallyard, ii. 579/530, a lively dance 
garr, i.91/23 ; ii.564/173, make, cause 
garrison, i.484/1998, reinforcement ? 
garsownc, ii.474/1607, boy, youth 



GLOSSARY. 



555 



GAT 

gate, ii.206/58, ford 

gate, iii. 279/38, begat 

gates, ii.229 10, ways, paths 

guide, ii. 306/41, gules, red 

gauelocke, i.489/2138, staff, an iron 
crowbar or mace. Gothic gafiack, 
■weapon, club. — Brock ie 

gay nest, iii. 73/412, quickest 

gengells, ii.288/213, gentle folk 

gent, i, 160/500, gentle, gracious 

'gentles, ii. 573/382,38.5, gentlefolk's 

gentrise, ii. 559/65, gentlemanlike be- 
haviour 

gentryes, i. 159/461, gentrise, grace 

g /testing, i. 64/ 66,68, lodging, entertain- 
ment 

giffe, i.169/85, if 

gilt, i. 450/907, sinned : A.-S. gyltan, to 
make or prove guilty 

gin no, i.239/88, trick 

girthers, i. 385/995, girding leathers, 
straps 

give, i.519/81, if 

gladedd, i.357/111, became glad, re- 
joiced 

glased, ii. 538/326, glanced, struck 

glashet, ii, 333/1 37, glanced, sprang 

glaue, i. 57/75, sword 

gleads, ii. 568/264, kites 

gleed, 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 

gnew, iii. 334/328, gnawed 

godly, i.215/55, goodly, well 

godsmen, ii. 543/484, almsmen 

gods-penny, i. 176/20, 179/105, earnest- 
money 

gogled, i. 16/26, waggled; iii.C-2/1 47, jog- 
gled, wagged, shook 

gold ehaines, i.509/13, servants who 
wore gold chains 

gone, ii. 373/859, dead 

good, i. 251/82, truly 

gorgere, ii.478/1726, throat-armour 

graine, ii. 323/29, crimson 

graime, 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 

graine, i. 441/61 4, get angry 

grume, ii. 72/386, vexation, ii. 4 18/893, 
torture 



GET. 

granado, ii. 41/16, fire grenades into ; 
granado* sb, 1. 20 

grange house, i. 338/482 

grantesse, ii. 346/163, agreement, phdgo? 

grasse, iii. 279/64, fat 

graunt, i. 114/531, agreement 

greathes, i.215/55, makes ready 

greaue, ii.91/311 ; 440/661, grove 

gree, i. 380/833; ii.346/154; first place, 
prize 

grecce, iii.92/421. Er. graisse, fat 

greete, i. 58/100, grit; i.357/109, grave] 

green (applied to a man's face), i. 356/69 

grett, iii. 343/579. greeted 

griffon, ii.370/776 ; 371/800,805; see 
gripe 

grill, ii.487/1995, fierce 

grinds, ii. 336/25, polish 

gripe, i. 148/1 05, ypwp, gryps, a griffin. 
A gryphe hyghte Griphes, and is ac- 
counted amonge volatiles, Deutero- 
nomi, xiiii. And there the Gloso 
saythe, that the grype is foure 
fotedtle, 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. — Trevisa's Bart In d- 
omeeus, bk. xii, ch. xix, leaf 171, col. 
2, ed. 1535. See Mr. Euskin's con- 
trast of the ancient and modern 
sculptured griffin in his Modi rn 
Painters, iii. 106 

grise, ii. 439/648, horrible 

grislye, i. 167/1468; 469/1505,1510, 
1513, A.-S. grislic, horrible, dreadful 

grisse, i. 391/1 179, A.-S. agrysan, fear, 
gryre, horror, terror 

griste, ii. 5 10/389, ? power, A.-S. grist, 
grinding 

griih, i. 230/266, protection 

groomes, i. 93/85, men; ai. 26/204, 
60/84 

growden, iii. 256/578, ? fighting 

grounding, i. 57/75, ground, sharpened 

grume, iii. 65/225. ? Jbregrim, i.e. very 
grim ; A.-S. grim, fury, rage; 
grymetan, to rage 

grype, i. 169/73; iii. 63/173, griffin, see 
gripe 



556 



GLOSSARY. 



GEY 

gryse, ii. 448/902, grey fur? 

guests, i. 232/402, Scotch, guest, ghaist, 

English, ghost. — Brockie 
guilt, i.l 72/1 68, 170, gilt 
gurde, i. 21 6/93 ; Sc. gird, to move with 

expedition and force. — Jamicson 
guarding, i.228/323, letting fly, shooting 
gynne, i.480/1854, engine; i.491/2223, 

wile, device 
gysctrmes, ii. 457/1166, " gui sarnie, a 

lance with a hook at the side." — 

Planche 



hahergion, i.358/128; i. 364/309, dim. of 
hauberk, the little throat-guard. — 
PlancU, i.l 10 

hallow, i. 150/173, A.-S. haliq, holy 

halch, i. 110/65; iii.284/190, salute, O.N. 
heilsa, say " hail" to. haylse, or greete, 
je saluc. I halse one, I take hym 
aboute the necke, Jaccole. — Palsgrave, 
p. 577 

halehcd,\.2l7l9$; i. 301/27 ;i.306/146-7; 
372/581, saluted 

haled, ii.13/180, drew 

handfasted, i.394/1274, betrothed 

hansell, ii. 192/37, greeting, gift 

happen, i. 359/146, fall, strike 

harbarrowes, ii. 7 1/342, lodges 

harbor, ii. 560/78 ; 581/573, lodging, 
entertainment 

harborrowe, ii. 69/294, 300, lodging 

harke, ii.482/1851, hearken to 

harllot, i.l 52/260, scamp, worthless fel- 
low 

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 

hart, tooke his owne to him, i.163/606, 
took courage 

harvenger, i.38/5, harbinger, courier, 
" one sent on to prepare harbourage 
or lodgment for his employer." — Wedg- 
wood 

hattell, i. 224/237, nobleman 

hawe, 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.l 49/ 150, Fr. avoir, possessions 

hawtinge, i. 92/56, halting? 



HTN 

he, i.477/1757, they 

head, give ones horse his, i. 358/ 124 

head, iii.192/75, A.-S. hcafdian, to be- 
head 

headed, iii.321/8, beheaded 

heare, iii.63/158, hair 

heate, ii. 305/18, a promise 

heathennest, i. 63/56 ; heathinnesse, ii.l 84 
/125 ; heathy nesse, i. 498/3, heathen- 
dom 

hecke, iii. 285/232, the lower half of a 
stable door 

hee, i.92/56 ; 147/102, high 

heede, iii.24/134, perhaps keep. — P. 

hecse, iii. 139/63, he will be, or must be 

heire, i.97/179, higher 

hend, ii.345/120, bid 

hend, i.l 52 244, gentle 

hendlye, i.427/147, gently 

/^m;', i.l 00/263, seized; i.28/29,35,caught, 
took 

hcrrott, i. 230/353, herald 

hett, iii.355/877, promise; i.443/666, 
671, promised 

highinge, ii.l 10/876, haste 

hu/ht, i. 439/558, was named 

hind, i.159/463 ; i.162/577, hend, gentle 

his, i. 387/1042, i.390/1153, ii.375/921, is 

hoe, ii.489/2058, hold, stop 

hoglin, ii. 360/529, dear little hog 

hold, iii.25/161, to its . . .hold, i.e. held. 
—P. 

hollen, i.109/55, A.-S. holen, holly 

holte, iii. 58/55, a wood, a rough place. 
Holt (Sax.) a small Wood, or Grove ; 
whence the Street call'd Holborn in 
London had its Name.- — Phillips (by 
Kersey). Fr. Touchedebois. Ahoult; 
a little thicke groue or tuft of high 
trees, especially such a one asisneere 
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. 151/203, love, sweetheart 

hore, ii. 473/1585, mud, dirt 

hose, i.67/153, cuddle 

honed, ii. 383/1 151, iii. 31/358, halted 

houzle, sb. i. 57/88; honzlc, vb. i.l 72/ 
178, to administer the Sacrament: 
A.-S. huseliem 

hurt, i.67/153, heart 

hyde, i.362/263, a lady's skin 

h'ynd, iii. 61/107; AyWr, iii.70/3 10,hrnd, 
gentle 

hyndes, iii. 68/279, servants 



GLOSSARY. 



557 



IAC 

iacke, iii. 415/255, leather tunic over 
the armour 

ierffaucon, ii. 451/977, gerfalcon 

test, ii.549/632, story 

ietted, i. 42/71, marched showily 

letters, ii. 568/275, strutters 

if, iii.203/174, even if 

Wee, i. 56/52, same (time); i.73/278 
time 

Imwpetelasze, iii.300/118, qu. MS.— F. 
himpettelaze, corruptly written for 
immortalize. — P. 

incontinent, i. 286/384, forthwith 

inde, ii.455/1105, Fr. inde, m. Indico; 
light Blue, Blunket, Azure 

inestimable, i. 288/461, not to be esti- 
mated or valued 

inglinff, iii.314/15, perhaps jingling 

inholder, i. 283/78, innkeeper 

inne, ii. 563/1 36, house 

insame, ii. 434/501, together: A.-S. sain, 
together 

inter talked, ii.35/2 

iolhje, ii.295/130, pleasure 

ioyinge, i. 230/352, joining 

irke, i. 177/54, angry, A.-S. yr 

irke, i.361/232, dread 

is, ii.423/188, are 

is, i. 155/ 341, his 

is (for the possessive 's) i. 161/548 

ishueles, i. 290/513, issueless 

ishulese, i. 274/31 ; i. 290/496, issueless 

Isl, iii. 45/780, I'll, I shall 

ist, ii.218/2 ; 219/30; 223/145, I'll 

it and lit, as genitives, for its, ii. 248/34 
ii. 251/131 

■IudasVye, ii. 258/96, Judasly, traitorously 

iitmpe, iii. 369/1 3, lust due, right, 

even, jvmpe, levell, straight. — Cot- 
grave. See Othello, A. ii. s. 2. 

iuster, ii. 292/62, jouster 

I-wis, i. 19/10; 333/343, &c. : every / 
is hyphened to its wis •wherever this 
word is printed, undor the belief that 
it stands for the A.-S. adverb gewis 
certainly ; but in tho passage where it 
is used with as, " as I wis," ii.583 
/627, the words are of course separate, 
a pronoun and verb 

i-wis, i. 146/59, A.-S. gewis, certainly. 
But see " as I wis " ii.583/627 

iwitt, i. 453/981, A.-S. gewilan, under- 
stand 

iacke, iii. 415/255, leather tunic over tho 
armour 



KYT 

jack, i. 31 1/296, a sleeveless tunic 

jig, ii.334 

jolly, ii 422/155, merry 

jorncy, iii.239/88, a day's work 

jousts and tournaments, i.85/9, oote ' 

jury, i.196/397 



kayred, ii.62/117, passed over 

keere, iii. 74/4 36, turn 

keered, i. 229/333, turned ; A.-S. cerran 

/oil. ii.67/255; 502/12; 503/44, a net 
for a lady's hair, for Bredbeddle's 
wife 

kempe, ii. 606/219, kemperye 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 Witt, 
1. 120 

kend, ii.457/1152, taught, showed 

kere, i. 229/347, return 

kered, i.222/192; iii.61/118, turned 

kcthcrinckes, i.219/131,135 ; 230/351, 
Cateranes, Katheranes, Highland rob- 
bers ; Gael, and Ir. caetharnach, a 
soldier. — Jamieson. Highland or Irish 
soldiers. Gaelic, cath-fficara, fight- 
ing-men, warriors, Scotch caterans, 
kerne. — Brockie 

kin, ii. 233/143, relation 

kindle care, ii. 539/360 

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. 
— Grit. Rev. Jan. 1795, p. 49 

kissed, i 449/857, the whore's euphuism 
for having connection with her, cur- 
rent in London as well as in the 
North. — Atkinson. 

kithe, ii. 233/143, acquaintance 

kit fie, iii. 74/436, A.-S. cy%, a region; 
ewfcfcc, 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 

kniiidedgc, i. 163/585, acknowledge, con- 

kut, iii. 130/77 

kyreth, iii. 66/ 230, A.-S. cyrran, to turn 

fcythe, iii. 58/47, region, A.-S. cyS 



558 



GLOSSARY. 



LAB 

labordd, ii. 69/301, worked, travailed 

labored, ii. 85/134, toiled through, per- 
formed 

labored, i.307/185, sailed 

lack, iii.69/303 ; lacheth, iii.69/298, A.-S. 
Iteccan, gelceccan, to take, catch, seize 

laine, iii. 190/26, conceal 

laine, ii. 75/469, concealment 

laine, i.452/970, lay ? 

lake, i.300/7, fight 

hike, iii. 69/302, play, sport. To lake, 
to play. — Ray's North Country Words, 
1674 

lake, 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 Ger- 
man lei-laken, Dan. leic-lagen (leie = 
bed), Swedish biidd-lakan = bed- 
sheet. Dutch and German laken, 
cloth in general. — Brockic 

lambes woole, ii. 152/105, a drink of ale 
and roast apples 

land, ii. 226/21 4, lord, like state, noble 

lanke, i.226/269, ? lean, thin, poor (is 
their praise) 

largnesse, iii.293/478, largesse 

lase, i. 451/934, lies 

latcn ; 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 ar- 
mour. — Spec, of Cornish Dialect, p. 18 

lathe, ii.593/896,'barn ; not A.-S. L<8%, 
Lathe, district or division peculiar to 
Kent 

lauding, ii. 593/895, praise 

lauerac/ce, i.383/922, lark 

lauge, ii.532/155, laugh 

/(iiinchc,V\A27j3ll, lance, thrust; ii.430/ 
386, rush 

laundercr, ii. 450/965, washerwoman ; 
Fr. lavandicre, a launderesse or wash- 
ing woman 

laus, ii.37/5,6, ? 

lawnde, iii. 92/419, a clear space in a 
forest. — F. Lawne, a plain, untilled 
ground. — Bidlokars 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 unoven, with pits or pools here 
and there, some containing water. 
It is studded with gorse bushes and 
other prickly shrubs : a more unlcvel 



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 sur- 
prised, when I first saw the place and 
heard its name — nothing more un- 
lawnlike in appearance could be con- 
ceived. — VUes 

lay, iii.9/115, law 

layeth, iii. 66/228, loathsome, deadly 

layinc, ii. 436, 575, concealment, reserva- 
tion 

layke, i. 231/380, A.-S. lac, play, sport 

layne, i. 493/ 2282, concealment 

lazar, laser, i. 167/1 1,13, 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 

leaetcnant, i. 319/27, lieutenant 

leake, iii. 67/249, A.-S. lac, play, sport 

leanie, ii.546/546; Iconics, i.228/309, 
A.-S. leoma, ray of light, beam, flame 

leane, iii. 214/74, Old Norse leina, to 
conceal. Leane is a Cheshire pro- 
nunciation for layne, conceal. — Dr. 
Robson 

leaving, i. 182/5, A.-S. Mr, lar, lore, 
learning ; lieran, to teach 

lease, ii.504/69, ? leash, thong, cord. 
Bowe, arrowes, sworde, bukler, home, 
leishe, gloues, stringe, and thy bracer. 
('Gere' that ' a Gentylmans Servant ' is 
not to forget. Fitzherbcrfs Husbandry, 
1767, p. 87) 

leasinge, i. 439/547, iii. 96/528, lying, 
lies 

leaih, ii.297/10, soft, supple 

lee, i. 92/47, ? lea, meadow 

leeches, i. 36 1/224, doctors 

leeching, iii. 5/38, from the French aUeger, 
(o ass-wage, mitigate, allay, solace 

leed, i. 318/10; 319/26; iii.69/315 ; 
leede, i. 215/58, A.-S. leod, a man 

leefe, iii. 95/5 1 4 ; Fr. ( Iter : m. Deare, leefe, 
well-beloved 

leete, i. 149/140, let go, lose 

lecue, i.370/514, dear 



GLOSSARY. 



559 



i.r.i; 

let ve, i. 56/58, believe 

leggs, ii.154/158, curtseys, bows 

lemman, i. 152/23.) ; ii. 299/88, love, 
sweetheart; i. 444/713, mistress, con- 
cubine 

lene, i.305/120, 134, conceal; Old Norse 
leyna, to hide 

lenge, 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 lcnt = aho<\e, dwelt ; 
lend, to dwell, remain, tarry. — Halli- 
well 

lerd, ii.424/211, learnt; A.-S. l&ran, to 
teach, instruct 

lere, iii.63/1 70, countenance, complexion 

lesse, i. 439/o58, lies 

left, ii.377/984; iii.245/256, hinder. I 
let, I forbyd, or stoppe one to do a 
thinge. Je cohibe. — Palsgrave 

lett, i.359/151, leave; i.365/334, left 

letted, i. 158/446, hindered 

letter, i. 94/95, liefer, rather 

Udder, iii.67/249, A.-S. ly&re, lySer, bad, 
wicked 

liggand, i.365/334, lying 

tight, i.171/150, alighted 

lightfuote, ii. 151/85; 152/89; 156/208, 
venison 

lighted, ii. 283/95, alighted, dismounted 

light att a lott, i.219/139, determined by 
lot 

light woman, L443/6G0 ; 444/722, prosti- 
tute 

lightt, ii. 60/54, for lythe, joint 

tin, i. 55/40, cease, A.-S. linnan. If 
Wantonis knew this, she will nener 
tin scorning. — Wit and Wisdome, p. 
30, 1. 30 

I'm nor light, i.373 597, limb and lith 
(joint, and then body ?) I'm nor light = 
lung nor light. Lungs an' 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. — Brockie 

tind, 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. Mystan; lithe. led. 

hlyta, 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 ex- 
pression in Scotland, in speaking of 
full-length statues or portraits, — 
" Of gude free-stane, in limb an' lith.' 
It is literally limb and joint = bono 
and sinew. From lith come the Eng- 
lish words lithe, lither, &c. The root 
signifies smooth, supple. — Brockie 
lithe, ii. 373/872, A.-S. Hie, mild, gentle 
lithe, iii. 77/17, attend, hearken, listen 
lither, i. 249/33, 250/47, wicked 
liner, i. 17/46, and note 1 , nimble. Quyeko 
or delyver of ones lymmes, agil, 
delittre. — Palsgrave. I foote a daunco 
or morisque, I shewe myselfe to be 
delyver of my lymmes in daunsyng. — 
Ibid. p. 553, col. 2 
liueranoe, ii. 219/31, pay 
liuer lies, ii.532/170, nimbleness 
liverr, i. 432/306, wages, pay, Fr. tivrSe 
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 
linings, i. 370/508, properties 
liuor, ii.219/36; 220/53, deliver 
lode, on, ii. 11/123, heavily 
lodlu. i.66/122; lodlyc, iii.63/162; 283/ 

182, loathly 
lodlyest, i. 154/324, most loathly or ugly 
lome, i. 168/47, man, object 
longe of, iii.325/116, cp. Cotgrave's "A 
toy n'a pas tenu. Thou wert no hind- 
erance . . it was not long of I liee." 
longed, i.226/280, iii. 73/39 1," belonged 
longed, i.144. Wo talk in Cleveland 
thus: not only "a dog belonging his 
master," but his master " blunging, 
'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. /<</', praise 
lope, i.17/43, 1 1. Leapt 
losse, i.226/269; iii. 69/305 ; ii. 85/132, 
443/719, Jos, praise, l'amo ; ii.416/23, 
reputation 



560 



GLOSSARY. 



LOS 

losty, iii.505/99, ? lusty or lofty 

lote, i. 471/1567. lighted, alighted 

lothclich, iii. 69/303, loathsome 

louge, ii. 374/883; lough, ii.384/1163; 
lought, i.190/215, laughed 

lout, 1.95/142, blow 

loved with, for loved by, i. 153/ 2 65 

low, i.78/70, hill 

lowde and still, ii.l 14/990 

lowe, ii.235/186, hill 

lowte, i. 102/31 6, A.-S. hlutan, to bow ; 
ii.75/456, stoop; lowted, ii.460/1243, 
iii. 59/70. A capo chino, with head 
bending, that is, reverently stooping 
or touting. — Florio, p. 4 

lowte, i. 375/672, abuse, blackguard 

lowtest, i.l 62/562, most humble 

lucett, ii.402/38, ? 

lumpryd, i.l 14/555, 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. — 
Cot grave 

Iycd,\.l51l217, lay 

Iyer, ii.448/903, shoulders, body; A.-S. 
lira, the flesh, muscles 

lynde, iii.90/376. Lynde, tre. Ttlia. 
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. — 
Goiddmaris 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 

lytc, i.434/385, little 

lythe, listen to, ii. 527/3 

lythe, i.480/1860, A.-S. W5, 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.2 14/46, matchless ; A.-S. maca, 

a mate 
maMesse, i. 227/292, matchless 
'iiuiiiimetts, ii. 466/1 383, images of idols 
man, iii. 144/21 3; 238/82, maun, i.e. must 
margarett, ii. 449/941, pearl 
mangerye, iii. 268/168, eating, feasting 



MIS 

manhood, i. 450/883, a man ; i.457/1121, 
reputation 

manner, ii