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2$tsl)op Pfrrg^s folio JH^. 

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Op this third volume the Historical Ballads are the principal 
feature. Though the Robin Hood set are continued by Adam 
Belly and Young e Cloudeslee, the Arthur set by The Carle of 
Carlile, the Romances and Romance-poems by Sir Degree and 
Sir Caivline, yet the Historical Ballads far outweigh these in 
number and importance. Starting at King Edgar, they take 
us down through William the Conquerour, The Droivning of 
Henery the I his Children, Edward the Third, the Seege of 
Roiuie (1418-19), Proud ivhere the Spencers, the Murthering 
of Edward the Fourth his Sonnes, The Rose of Englande, Sir 
John Butler, Bosworth Feilde, Ladye Bessiye, 'Sir Andreiu 
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-Broion 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 


Rev. Walter W. Skeat, has been good enough botli 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 

Of the other Introductions, Mr. Hales has written all, except 
those to Sir John Butler (which is by Dr. Robson), ^neas & 
Dido (by Mr. W. Chappell), and the following by Mr. Furnivall : 
In olcle Times paste, Thomas of Potte, The Pore Man & the 
Kinge, Now the Spri7ige is come, Carle off Carlile, A Cauilere, 
Sir Andreiv 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, Dyc6 and Chappell, 
to Mr. G. E. Adams (Rouge Dragon), Doctors Robson and 
Rimbault, and to Mr. Alfred Tennyson fur a letter on the origin 
of the legend of Godiva. 

February 29, 1868. 













































A PROp[h]eCYE 



hee is a FOOLE 




































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 tem,poral 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 Avords 
lo7ig 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 ^ 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 senhung) have some- 

' Guest, Hid. Eng. Ehijthmf, vol. i. p. 77. 


times been employed to denote this raising and sinJcing of the 


It were much to be wished that we had some genuine English 
terms to supply the place of the trochee, the iambus, the dactyl, 
and the anapcest. A trochee means a long syllable succeeded 
by a short one ; but an English trochee is something quite 
different, viz., a loud syllable followed by a soft one, and it may 
even happen that the loud syllable is as rapid as the other, as 
for instance in the words Egypt or impact, which have so 
puzzled some writers, that they have, in despair, named them 
spondees ! Were it allowable to give new names, they should 
be given on the principle of representing the things meant by 
help of the accents on the very names themselves. Thus a loud 
syllable followed by a soft one might be called (not a trochee, 
but) a Tonic; a soft one, succeeded by a loud one, might be 
called a Return ; a loud one, followed by two soft ones, might be 
named (not a dactyl, but) a Dominant ; and, finally, instead 
of anapaest, we might use some such term as Arabesque or 
Solitaire, until a better one can be thought of ; for single words 
thus accented are rare in English, the nearest approach to them 
being exhibited by such words as refugee, cavalier, and serenade : 
and none of these even are free from a slight accent on the 
first syllable. I feel convinced that until some such new terms 
are invented, writers upon English metre will continue to say 
one thing, and to mean another. I shall therefore introduce 
hereafter the terms above defined, merely to save all 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^alag. Their versification, 
however, is often less regular, and in the poems of the four- 

' Dr. Lathiim, in liis English Gram- way, viz., by employing algebraical 
mar, gets out of tiic difficulty another .symbol.s. 


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 i-emarks 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, ^ as e.g. 
in Thorpe's editions of Caedmon and Beowulf, the following 
canons will be found to hold, at least in those lines which are 
of the strictest type : 

1. The complete verse, or alliterative couplet, consists of 
two lines, each containing two loud syllables, coupled together 
by the use of alliteration. 

2. The initial letters which are common to two or more of 
these loud syllables are called the rime-letters. Each couplet 
should, if possible, have three of these, of which 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 two 
rime-letters, it is because one of the sub-letters is dropped. 

4. If the chief-letter be a consonant, the sub-letters should 
be the scmie 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. 

' In " Deiith and LifFc " and "ScoLish answer lo tlie short lincji of licuvvuU". 
ffeilde," the accdons of each long line^ 


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 07ie 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 gesS§lige ; very happy ; 

synna ne cu}>on ; sins they knew not. 

{C<edmon, ed. Thorpe, p. 2. 1. 12.) 

(2) ^am & Aeah-setl home and a high seat 
Aeofena rices. of heaven's kingdom. 

(Ccsdmon, p. 3, 1. 9.) 

(3) e<5el-sta}5olas the native settlements 
eft gesette, might again establish. 

{Cadmon, p. 6, 1. 25.) 

In example (1), the rules are all fulfilled : the initial letters 
of swi^e and scdige 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. (This complement, 
which I shall call the catch, answers to the Icelandic mdlfyllincj. 
The use of it is a very necessary license, and lines in which it 
occurs are more common than those without it. No special 


stress should, in reading or reciting, be laid upon the syllables 
of which the catch consists. The following are examples of its 
use : 

dbm& & (ZugeSe of sway and dignity 

&) <?reame benam. and joy deprived them. 

{Cmdmon, p. 4, 1. 19.) 

geond-)/blen/yTe filled throughout with fire 

&)/^r-cyle, and cold intense. 

{CcBdmon, p. 3, L 29.) 

ge-)^r6med ^rymme provoked bitterly, 

^rap on wra8e. he gripped in wrath. 

{CcBdmon, p. 4, I. 29.) 

Here (fe, 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, 

g't<einteliche degyset ; 
To) ^reyere and to ^^naunce 

^litten heom monye ; 

Bote in a) Mayes wiorwnyngo 

on) ilialuerne hiilles, 
Me bi-)/61 a/erly, 

A) /^yrie me thouhte ; 
I) sZumberde in A s^epyng, 

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 arff made to begin ivords also, such words being 
chosen as commence with loud syllables, as in — 

wereda wuldor-eining 

wordum h^rigen ; {Cadmon, 1. 3.) 

Worchinge and wondringe 

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

This is undoubtedly the best arrangement, biit it cannot always 
be followed ; when it is not, care should l)e taken that the 


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

swi8e gesselige 

synna ne cul^on ; (Ceedm. ed. Thorpe, p. 2. 1. 12.) 

Mony) ferlyes han bifalle 

in a) i&we 36res. (P. PL A. 2}rol. 62.) 

Indeed, these can hardly be considered as exceptions ; for ge- 
and bi- 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 

The second line of the couplet is nearly always the moi^e 
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 d8§lde — the waters parted (he). 

{CcBdmon, p. 9, 1. 23.) 

/8egre/?-e6>o->eawas, fair kindly thews, 

/red ealluni leof — the Lord dear to all. 

(^C<sdmon, p. 5, 1. 29.) 

Now is) MehdiQ J>o Mayden i-nomen, • 

and no) mb of hem alle. {Piers Plownmn, 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 )>& <7entel 

bond hit in his book 
what J>is) iV/ountoin be-»i6nel> 

and Jjis) fZ6rke faille. 
{Piers Plowman, A. i. 159, 1 ; see also iii. 93, vii. 57, 69.) 


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 Anin 

and to) ille 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 arrangre- 

An example is furnished by the line — 

tyle he had syluer 

for his) skwes and his .s^lynge. (P. PI. A. ii. 112.) 

(c) The chief-letter is sometimes omitted, which is certainly 
a great blemish, and such lines of course occur but rarely. 
Examples are : 

I wol) worschupe J>er-?<)i}> 

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

And) 6eere heor bvks on \>i bkc 

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

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

In (T^a-)m6rgan with glie 

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 niiineroiis 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) rnde)> as Ich er scide 

t'n) profitaLlo werkes. (P. PI. A. i. 120.) 

I^er to) wonen with wrong 

whil) god is in hcuene. {P. PL A. ii. 74.) 
VOL. ill. a 


yit I) ^rt^ye \>e, quod j:)^rs, 
par) charite, 3if l^on conne. (P. P/. A. vii. 240.) 

God) 3uiet> /(im his bl^ssyng 
J>at Ais) Ij'flodo so swynkej?. (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 riclie holde. {Werwolf, 2836.) 

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

whi fiat) veniaiince fel 

od) Saul and liis children. (P. PI. A. iii. 245.) 

yet this line is undoubtedly genuine, as appears by a collation 
of MSS. See also Weriuolf, 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 sivlng 
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 /elo, 

&) sifjjjo techc it fiirhcr, (P. PL ii. 31,) 

and, only three lines below, come upon 

when) hch was me fro 
I) lokod and ljy/<61de, 

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


of one jNIS. 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 existiDg 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 sonnc. (P. Fl. A, jjroZ. 1.) 

That I) was in a wildernesse 

t<'uste 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) fZeop d\e\\ and rferk 

and) t/r(^dful of siht. (P. PI. A. j)rol. 16.) 

Fair^/loiires/or to/^cch6 

that he l)i)-/6re him s^ye. {Will, and Werwolf, 1. 20.) 

iS/i^athylle &-6ttlande by slcyWe 

he) s/.y.stys \recid skyftys] as hym lykys. (Morte Arthitre, 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 tiuo 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 


Anglo-Saxon couplet is a iniark of antiquity. I imagine it will 
be found to be so/ 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 M'orld 

wondres to here — 
Vndur a) brod banke 

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

trijely I-maket — 

have been improved (?) by altering the words herey syde, and 
I-maket, into ivayte, hrymrae, and ytynihred respectively.'^ 

With regard to the comjpleTYient or catch, Rask says : ^ — 
*' 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 com'plement, whicli, 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 Dr. Guest tries to hold up to 
ridicule in strong terms,^ but I take it to be perfectly sound 
and correct as regards the main point at which Rask is aiming, 
though requiring some limitation, for tliough the catch may 
consist of " one or more words," it is rarely of more than two 

' Such, I find, is also Dr. Guest's ^miisk'fiAnfflo-Sa.vonGramvmrjtrkins- 

opinion ; Guest's Hist. Enff. Rhi/thms, lated by Thorpe, 1830, p. 136. 

vol. i.p. 141. •' Guest, Hist. Eng, Bhythms, vol. ii. 

' See Piers Plowman, Text A, ed. p. 6. 
Pkoiif, )). xxii. 


syllables. The catch, as Dr. Guest points out, is not absolutel}'- 
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 

Larger c6nstellations burning, mellow moons and happy skies, 

into — 

Constellations burning larger, mellow moons and happy skids, 

we give a very different effect to the words larger and constel- 
lations ; whilst in both cases the accent on mellow is coni- 
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 ; 


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 iv in EclwarcVs 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 Englislo Grammar, pp. 137-145.^ 

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 case in Icelandic ; their poets delighted 
in adding various complexities, such o^s, full-rinies, 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 

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,''^ '' toide and side,'' &c. ; they 
are found also in other poems, as ^'frodne and godne " in the 
" Traveller's Song," " Icenne and soinne " in " Alfred's Metres, 
&c. : see Gruest, vol. i. p. 126, &c. There are also half -rimes, 
as in '^ sar and sorge," "his boda. beodnn,'" &c. The most 
curious example is in the Riming Poem in the Exeter MS., 

' Compare — Ncin ! iSeufzen mir und Stohncii und 

TV((>\hs rd T wra t6v t6 vdvv to. t o^^ar' scheuer Sklavenschritt. 

el (Sophocles, (Ed. Col. 37].) (Uhlaiid, Bcs Scingers Fluch.) 

Neu patriiP validas in yiscera vcrtito jBut minds of mortall men are mucliell 

-vires. (Virgil, /En. vi. 833.) mard 

II pietoso pastor pianse al suo pianlo. And mov'd amisse Mith massy mucks 

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

. . . . nie Saite noch Gesang, (Spencor, F. Q. iii. 10, 31.) 


wbich is written iu rime througliout, the alliteration being 
mostly preserved at the same time, as in 

wic ofer wongum, 

wennan gongum ; 
lisse mid Ion gum, 

leoma getougum. 

{Codex Exoniensis, ed. Thorpe, p. 353.) 

See also the most extraordinary lines in the same poem (p. 
354), beginning 

flah raih flitojj, 
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 fnSest 

ne) fyres bluest, 
ne) htegles kryre 

ne) hrinies 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 Caedmon, 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) riht mice! Tor lis it is very right 

\>«:t we) rodera w&ird That we the heaven's Warden, 

wereda wuldor-cining The Glory-King of hosts, 

wordum herigen, With (our) words should pi-aise, 

modum liihen ; With (our) minds should love ; 

he is) miegna sped, He is of powers the Speed, 

heafod ealra The Head of all 

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

' The accents merely mark stress ; I system of accents whic]i regulates Iho 
am obliged hei-e to ignore the usual length of the vowels. 


The scansion is as follows : 

— T t, — d T I d t t, t d I t d, — t T ] 1 1, 1 1 I , 

I have no space here to discuss Csedmon'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 
fou7' 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 PlowTiian, is this, that whereas Csedmon'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 ivritten 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.' Even these, however, are sometimes 

' Such, at least, has been the usual from the usual method of printing 
practice with respect to Anglo-Saxon Icelandic poems. Eut it should Le 
poems, the idea probaLly being taken noted that wlien such a poem as Vwrs 


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 hack the second line of the couplet (as should 
always be done), and then the eye of the reader cannot detect 
how the lines jpair 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 marniscripts 
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 Ploivman : 

Second sections without catches, 28. 

With a one-syllable catch, 67. 

With a catch of two syllables, 12. 

Plowman is written as frose (as in MS. has not boon an nttcr and an unneccssaiy 

Digby 102), tliore is tin; same marking mistake, adopted rather beeaiise it liap- 

off" into half-lines, and it may be ques- pened to bneonvenient th;ni bi'eause any 

tioned whether the printing in ludj'-luws good reason could be given for it. 


With a catch of three syllaLles, 2 ; though there may be 
doubt ab(Hit these ; I refer to the lines, 

That) Poul pr^cheth of hem ' 

I dar not) priouen hecre (1. 38) ; 
and — 

That heore) Parisch hath ben pore 

seththe the) Pestilence tyme (1. 81). 

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

line is — 

Cookes and heore knaues 
cryen) hote pies, hote. 

It should be observed further that the catch in the second 
section is very frequently modified by the way in which the 
first section terininaies. 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.^ 

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 

' he7n is here emphatic ; see the the words myrtle and turtle are succeeded 

context. by a catch of ot/e syUablc ; but clime by 

^ Modern poets learn this rule by the one of two syllables. Lot the reader 

ear. Thus, in Lord Byron's lines — change Are into Are as, and Where the 

Know ye the land where the cypress and into The, and see how he likes it then ; 

myrtle the former of these changes is by no 

Are) emblems of deeds that are done means pleasing. See this worked out in 

in their clime ; Edgar A. Poe's essay on The Rationale 

Where the) rage of the vulture, the love of Verse, which, though very mad to- 

of the turtle, wards the conclusion, contains some 

Now) melt into softness, now madden good hints. 

to crime, 


detected iu v^^iiich the rime was superadded as an after-thouglit, 
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 : 

He was) -wis and war 

he) welde tlics riehe 
al) hit hino loiiede 

that) liuede on loudc, 

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 faeir 
he w61de that riehe hcer ; 

Avhere the word hcvr (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 ^Elfred, the son of .^thelred, 

and is entered in the Chronicle under the date 1036.^ One 

couplet is clearly rime — • 

Slime hi man hende 
Slime hi man blende ; 

whilst another is a fair alliterative specimen, 

thi't hi blission 
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. 

' Grcin, A)/i/cl.i(icksi<iche Bihliolhck, vol. i. p. ;i')7. S^c A.-S. Chron., od. Tiiorpo, 
p. 294. 


I nov; give a list of all the poems I have as jet 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 
luestern 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 Beliquiw A7itiquce, vol. i. 
p. 208.) 

2. Seinte Marherete, about a. d. 1200. See MSS. Reg. 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 tolerably regular. 

3. William of Paleme, 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 IMS. 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. Grreaves, 
60), now being edited by myself for the E. E. T. S. in William 
of Paleme. (Sir F. Madden conjectures it to have been written 


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

5. The Vision of Willimn concerning Piers the Plonmian, 
together with Vita de Dowel, Dohet, and Dohest, 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 
b}^ Crowley, Whitaker, and T. Wright. MSS. still exist ; one 
in Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 3. 15, and another in MS. Bibl. Eeg. 
18. B. xvii. These are more correct than R. Wolfe's printed 
copy, and the former has been lately printed by myself for the 
E. E. T. S. (1867, 8vo). The author is evidently the same as 
the author of the Plowman's Tale, which is inserted in some 
editions of Chaucer. 

7. The Deposition of Richard 11. (a. D. 1399). A fragment 
only is known, existing in jMS. 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 iiivestii>-ation. 


8. Two poems, one on Cleanness, and a second on Patience, 
(MS. Cotton, Nero, A. x.), printed by E. Morris for the E.E.T.S. 
(1864, 8vo). The dialect is West-Midland, and Mr. Morris 
supposes it to be Lancashire. The MS. can scarcely be older 
than A. D. 1400. 

9. The Destruction of Jerusalem, called by Warton {History 
of English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 105 ; 1840) The Warres of the 
J ewes. MS. Cotton, Calig. A. ii. ; MS. Camb. Univ. Lib. Mm. 
5. 14 ; and elsewhere. To be edited for the Early English Text 

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. Gr. 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.b. 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 


latter poem which is now being prepared for theE. E, T. S. 
shall have been printed. 

13. A poem of 146 lines, beginning — 

Crist crowned king, that on Cros didest ; 
of which 27 lines are quoted by Bishop Vercy (Rel. v. ii. p, 312; 
from 5th ed.) a small 4to. MS. in private hands. It is a pity 
he did not quote the remaining 119 lines at the same time. He 
conjectures it to be of the reign of Henry V. 

14. Chevelere Assigns, or the Knight of the Swan ; temp. 
Henry VI.; ed. Utterson (Eoxburghe 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: ivhere, there (12, 13); lene, tiveyne 
(28, 29); were, there (31, 32); sivyde, leyde (158, 159); faste, 
caste (166, 167) ; sivanes, cheynes (198, 199, and again at 350, 
351); were, onysfare (237, 238); 'myskarrye,ma7'ye (260, 261). 
There are also several assonances, svich as ivenclen, lenger (302, 
303). The following is a specimen to show the effect of the 

superadded rime : 

And it) wexedde in my houde 

&) wellede so faste, 
That I) toke the other fyue, 

&) fro the fyer cast^. 

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 the jucUo, & Jhesn thankes. 

It is printed in the Appendix to Lancelot da Lac, ed. Steven- 
sou (Maitland Club), 1839. 


In the same Appendix is another short poem in this rhythm, 
not very regular. It begins with the line — 

When Rome is remoryde 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 Loivland Scotch. 

16. The Tua Mavyit Women and the Wedo ; by William 
Dunbar, about A. d. 1500; see Dunbar's works, ed. D. Laing, 
vol. i. p. 61. Conybeare quotes from this in his Illustrations 
of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. 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) SHcen crista!, 
and) birdis SHouted in the SHaw 

with their) SHrill notis ; 
the) Golden GLittering GLeam 

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

among the) GReen boughis. 

17. Deatli and Life; printed in the present work, probably 
by the author of No. 18. 

18. Scotish Feilde; printed in the present work, vol. i. 
p. 199, written about A. d. 1513, by one of the family of the 
Leghs of Baguleigh in Cheshire. 

19. Ancient Scottish Prophecies, reprinted by the Bannatyne 
Club, 1833 ; some of them having been printed by Waldegrave, 
1603. The alliteration is often imperfect, thougli 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 1 lay : — 
Striueling that strait place 

a) strength of that laiide : — 

i «> 


Then a) chiftaino vnchosen 

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

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

20. I may add that the "Eeply of Friar Daw Topias " and 
"Jack Upland" (see Wriglit'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 ni}^ " Piers Plowman," text A., p. xvii. 

22. See also two scraps printed in Jleliqwice Antiqucc, 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 

1. Songs on King Edivavd'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 Knir^t, about a.d. 1530, 
ed. Sir F. Madden, 1839; re-ed. Morris (Early English Text 
Society), 1864. 

3. Golagros and Gaivayne ; and 

4. Atuntyrs of Arthure ; in the same vol. as Sir. F. ISIadden's 

' Here, again, I am speaking of of writing such poems in Englisli is 

English poetry, in which the addition very great, wlionce many of the speei- 

of rime to alliteration makes the poet's mens arc rather short. A like ohjeetion 

work a danco in fetters. The dijjicuUi/ does not apply to Icelandic poetry. 

VOL. HI. b 


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 Pieces, 
ed. Perry (Early English Text Society), 1867. 

8. The Buke of the Hoirlat, by Sir R. de Holande, about a.d. 
1455. Printed by Pinkerton, 1792; and for the Bannatyne 
Club, 1823. 

9. The prologue to book viii. of Grawain Douglas's 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 Gruest's 
Eng. Rhythms, vol. ii. p. 298. 

In the above poems the longer lines are of the standard 
length, and have the true swing. Poems (such as those of 
William Audelay) in which alliteration abounds, but which are 
not of the true type, are very numerous. 

These are all that I have noticed, though I dare say these 
lists are not altogether complete. 

It may be interesting to observe that the alliterative rhythm 
is suitable for all Teutonic and Scandinavian languages. 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 

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 


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 Do'niinant. By forgetting to pronounce his 
final e's, a modern reader is very apt to lose something of this 
effect; 3'et 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, \. 

Lines about which there may be doubt, 2L 

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 someti)nes 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 johrases occur. I 
may instance the following : 

"And seide— 

Hedde I) loiie of tlie kyng, 

luite wolde I recclie." {Piers Flowman, A. iv. 51.) 

b 2 


" Woltou) wedde this wommon — qxiod the kyng — 
Sif) I' wol assente ? " {Piers PL A. iii. 113.) 

I) was not wont to worche— quod a wastoiir — 

sit) wol I not biginne. (Piers PL A. vii. 153.) 

& 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 Floivman. 

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.' 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." ^ 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 diflficulty 
arising from a want of familiarity with it ; for though the ear of a 

' Marsh, Lectures on English, 1st so- ^ lioswovWn Anglo-Saxon Bictiovary, 

ries, p. 550. pp. cxxiv, cxxvi. 


modern Englishman can perceive alliteration, it is not trained to 
perceive it at once, as readily as it does rimed endings. But the 
metre is in itself a good one, and might still be employed by us 
with effect if skilfully adapted to suitable subject-matter. The 
same not overwise energy that has been bestowed upon the 
attempt to naturalize hexameters, would have revived this metre 
long ago, and the gain would have been greater. The verses 
quoted above from Dunbar, though they are more loosely and 
irregularly written than they should be, are quite sufficient to 
show that something may be made of it, though I have nowhere 
seen any example of it in modern English except in a few lines 
of my own, some of which are quoted in the preface to Text A. 
of Piers Ploivman. 

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 rapidit}', 
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 vjritten it as verse, and I can safely repeat what 
I have once before said, that it affords an example of " the 
regidar alliterative verse, jjerfect as regards accent, imperfect 
as regards alliteration ; in fact, the very kind of metre into 
which the old Piers Ploivman metre would natiually degc- 


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

Welthe or wandreth, whethire so betyde. 

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

■ Religions Pieces, ed. Perry, p. vi. of Preface. 


Guest, History of Encjlish 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 Ploivman. 

Professor Morley, English Writers, i. 264. 

Vercj, Reliques, ii. 298, 5th ed.' 

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 Arthure, and in my edition 
of Piers Ploivman, Text A. preface p. xxx. ; also to my essay 
on the versification of Chaucer, at the end of the preface to the 
Aldine edition, as edited by Mr. Richard Morris (Bell and Daldy, 
1865). On the more general subject of English metre, see Guest's 
English Rhythms ; a Treatise on Versification, by R. 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. 

' The readei' 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 

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

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

(when perfect) six i?e<i<r7j.s; (2) that tlie judge for himself, when he finds that 

French alone have retained this old the line 

Gothic metro [the twelve-syllabled lb sQcccs f Qt toOjours | fin 6nfant d5 raSdace 

Alexandrine] for their serious poems, _ , , , , • -^ • i j i. 

whereas we may be sure that Michael i8 marked by him as it is marked here. 

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

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

that the cadence of Tkrs Plowman be laid at the door of the " Anapjt sts ! 

" so exactly resembles the French Would that we were well rid of thorn, 

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

ities of their versification can be pro- buried besido them ! 
duccd which cannot be exactly matclied 



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

But trusteth wel, I am a suthem man, 

I can not geste, rim, ra?n, mi, by letter. 

V. iii. p. 202, 1. 42-3, ed. Morris, 
p. 16, 1. 1, 2. Sir Degree. The Affleck MS. of this Romance 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 002 lines of the romance. The Atfleck MS. starts 


Ferli fele wolde fonde 

And sechen aventouris, bi nijte and dai. 

How jhe mi3te here strengthe asai ; 

So did a Kny3t Sire Degarree, 

Ich wille 30U telle wat man was he. 
and ends with — 

" Certes, Sire, (he saide,) nai ; 

Ac jif hit your wille were, 

To mi Moder we wende i-fere, 

For sehe is in gret mourning." 

" Blethelich, (quath he,) bi Ileuene King." 

From line 1070 to line 1115 — the end — is printed by Mr. Laing in the 
Abbotsford Club Sir Degarre (as he gives notice) from a black-letter 
edition (Copland's), 

The Romance has been printed five times in editions known to us, not 
fo2(r only as stated in p. 16, 1. 6, for tli(^ edition printed by John Kynge, 
mentioned on p. 18 below, is noticed by Mr. Laing in these words: 'Among 
Selden's books in that [the Bodleian] Library, there is a copy of the 
edition printed at London by John King, in the year 1560, 4to, 16 loaves 
(Dibdin's Typographical Antiqvitirs, vol. iv. p. 338)." Further, Mr. Laing 
mentions that " the late learned Archdeacon Todd, in his ' Illustrations of 
Gower and Chaucer,' ' has described a fragment on two leaves containing 
160 linos of this Romance, as forming part of a Manuscript supposed to be 
of the Fourteenth Century, now the property of the Earl of Ellesmere ; but 
the volume, at present, is unfortunately not accessible." 

Mr. Laing also states that the Wynkyn de Worde 4to is in 18 leaves, 
and is described in Dibdin's Typ. Ant. ii. 376 ; that the mutilated Douce 
transcript, apparently made from W. de Worde's edition, is dated 1564 ; 

' Page 1G7, Lonil, 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 ta/ce truce with the unruly spleen 
Of Tybalt deaf to peace." 

Shakespeare's Borneo ^- Juliet, iii. 1. 
" With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce." 

Shakespeare's King John, iii. 1, — Dyce. 
The linking of treasure with truse makes me hold still that the two are like 
in kind, and that my note is right. — F. 

p. 135, Tho)nas of Potte. Ritsoa printed another version in his Ancient Songs, 
1790, p. 24:8, 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 Dialogiie, 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 diiferent version of the tale in his 
Ancient Songs, 1790. See other bililiographical 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 I a- 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 sotte 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 thoy haue ben dcceyued of hit by false 
counceylle of bawdes. But alle gentylle women whiche haue ynough to lyue 
on, the whiche make theyre peramours or loners suche maner of folke as 
before is sayd, it is by the grete ease wherin they be, and by the brennynge 
lecherye of tlieyr bodyes. For they knowc wel that, after the lawe of theyr 
maryago, they may not haue for theyr lordes, no to bo theyr husbondes, men 
of tlie chireho ne otlier of no valewe. This loue is not for to recouere ony 
worsliip, but alle dishonour and shame." — F. 

p. 161. Tiiorno (Twysden's A' 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 liad 
written down to 1232, and whose work seems to have perished, thougli 
there is a spurious chronicle called Sprot t's. 

NOTE.'^. xliii 

I. Thorne points to Kent as the only county where the old Englisli 
custom still prevailed. He probaVily 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 {Liher Albus, ed. Kiley, ii. pp. 246, 247, 504), 
and undoubtedly prevailed iu other parts of England besides Kent, but 
gradually died out before the growing use of primogeniture. Elton says 
{Tenures of Kent, p. 50) that the body of Kentish usages as we now possess 
them was formally allowed in the 21st year of Edward I., also "The 
Kentish usage was not a mere pai'tition 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. cup. 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 

II. Fitz-Stephen says {Vita S. Thoma, p. 230), that by the custom of 
Kent, a man condemned for contempt of court pays a customary fine of 40a'. 
instead of 100s. asiu 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 Cantia 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 Fatlier to the Boughe, and the 
Sonne to the Plough.' 

7. a Felon's Wife is dowable out of his lands, and the King shall not have the 
lands for a year, or wast them. 

8. a man's lands are shared between all his sons, the messuage going to the 

9. a dead man's goods shall be parted in 3 parts, 1 to pay his debts, 1 for his 
children equally, the third for the widow. 

10. an infant heir is taken charge of, not by the lord, but by his next of blood 
to whom the inheritance cannot descend. 

11. the heir is married, not by the lord, but by his own fi-ionds. 

12. the heir comes of age at 15 years. 

13. the widow has i her husband's land for dower while she is chaste, and 
the widower ^ his wife's. 

&c. &c.— F. 
p. 174. The Nicttbroivtie Maid. " 1558-9. John Kynge ys fyned for that he did 

xliv KOTES. 

prynt the nutbrowne mayde w'out lycense, ij^ vj''." Collier's Registers, i. IG. 
See the note there, 
p. 177, 1. 1, notes, for i tskcille read it shalle. 

p. 301, Cressus. See the " curious ballad " on " Troylus & Cressyd," from MS. Ash- 
mole, 48, fol. 120, in The Marriage of Wit ^- Wisdom, (Sliaksp. Soe.) p. 102. 
p, 374. Maudline. This ballad should have been divided into 4-line verses. It is 

printed also in Early Ballads, ed. R. Bell, 1856, p. 217.— 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 DiploinaticHS. — F. 
y. 4:99, Qucene Dido. 1564-5. A ballett intituled the Wanderynge prynce. [No doubt 
the ballad printed by Percy (Eeliques, iii. 244), under the title of " Queen 
Dido," aud ■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 Johfln page, 
AUe in rafFe,' and not in ryme, 
Hy 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 \'^ sege of Eone. — F. 

' 7?o;/f= refuse, a confused heap, a jumble. Here it means in lines jumbled together : see 
Raffle in Wedgwood. Ryme would mean regular verses with properly rimed endings.— Skeat. 


" 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, probabl}'' 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 m©re 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 witli 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 tlie MS. copy, viz., the fight 
with the Griant. All its other incidents — the stolen interviews 
of the lovers, their interruption by the King, Sir Cauline's 

' A straiigo romantic old song — very which will account for its being so cor- 
dcfcctivo & obscure. N.B. This soenies rupted. — P, 
to liavo been originally a Scotch Song : 

VOL. ni. B 


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, slie sayes, 
And sliriekte and swound awaye. 

Sir Cauline juste lifte up his eyes 

When he heard his ladye crye, 
ladye, I am tliine crwne tmie love, 

For thee I wisht to dye. 

Then giving her one partinge looke. 

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

Begane to drawo licr breathe. 

But when she found her comelye kuighte 

Indeed was dead and gone, 
Shee Liyde her pale cold cheeke to his, 

And thus she made her moane. 

staye, my deare and onlye lord, 

For mee thy faithfullo feere ; 
'Tis meet that I shold foUowe thee. 

Who hast bought my love soe dcarc. 


Then faj'iitinge in a deacUye swoiine, 

And with a deepe-fette sighe, 
That bursto her gentle hearto in twayne, 

Fayre Christabello did dye. 

As Mr. Fiirnivall in his original Proposal for the publication of 
the Folio said, " ^Yith a true instinct Professor Child remarked 
in his Ballads (ed. 1861, vol. iii. p. 172), "It is difficult to 
believe that this charming romance had so tragic and so 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. 

IeSUS : lord mickle of might,' 
thai dyed fFor vs on the roode 
to maintaine vs in all our right, 
4 tliai loues ^ true English blood. 

ffor by 3 a X.nifjU I say my song, rn sing you 

■was bold & ffuU hardye ; * *°°^ ° 

Sir Robert Briuse wold fforth to ffio-ht 


8 in-to Ireland ouer the sea ; 

& in thai land dwells a kins: ,. . , 

o an InsU 

w/wch ouer all does beare the bell, knigiit, 

& With him there dwelled a curteous 'K.nighi, 
12 men call him S/r Cawlino. sirCawiinc, 

' For the first four stanzas Percy has The kingo had a ladye to his daughter, 

in the Ediqucs these; two : In fashyon she hath no pecro;'' 

The First Pakt. ■'^"'^ princely wightes that ladye wooed 

In Irehmd, ferr over the sea, '-^o ^e t^'eyi' wedded feerc.— F. 

There dwellcth a bonnye kinge ; - lovo. — P. 

And with him ayongandconilyckniglite, ' of. — P. 

Men call him syr Cauline. 


■« ho loved a 
king's lovely 


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

K.nigJits & lordes they woed her both, 
trusted to haue beene her peere. ^ 

[page 309] 

but durst not 
disclose his 

Sir Cawline loues her best of one,^ 

but nothing durst hee say 
to discreeue ^ his councell to noe man, 
20 but deerlye loued this mayd.'* 

and had at 
last to take 
to his bed. 

till itt beffell vpon a day,^ 

great dill ^ to him was dight ; 
the raaydens loue remoued his mind, 
24 to care bed went the Knio-ht ; 

and declares 
he should 


& one while he spread his armes him ffroe, 

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

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

thus can Si'r Cawline say. 

Just before 
the King 
asks for him, 

when our parish masse that itt ^'^ was done, 

& our '1 king was boAvne to dine, 
he sayes, " where is Sir Cawline 

that was wont to serue me w^th ale & wine ? '^ " 

' perhaps fcrc. — P. pcere is equal, 
mate, match. — F. 

* AH, or any. — P. lovcth her best of 
all.— ZeeL 

^ discreevc, diseribe, discover. Chauc. 
forte, diskevere. — P. Ho discreeve. — 

* he lovdo this may. — Rd. 

'^ on a dayo it so beffell. — Ucl. 

" grief. A.-S. cUol, deceit, trouble ?— F. 

' For the next five lines Ed. has throe : 

One while he sprcd them nyo : 
And aye ! biit I winne that ladyes love, 
For dole now I niun dye. 

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

^ This was the usual resource of love- 
sick knights. Compare Sir Gencridcs, 
p. 237, and Will Sfewari below.— F. 

'" And whan our parish-masso. — Eel. 

" Out.— Eel. 

'- That is wont to serve the wyne. — Eel. 


but then answered a ciirteous 'Knight ana is toW 

36 ffast wringinge his hands,' vei-y m. 

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

" ffeitch yee ^ downe my daughter deere, The King 

40 shee is a Leeche fFull ffine "* ; daughter to 

I, and take you doe ^ & the bakcn bread, Cawiiue. 

and eene ^ on ^ the mne soe red,^ 

& looke no day[n]tinesse ifor him to deare, 
44 for fFull loth I wold him teeue.^ " 

this Ladye is gone to his chamber,'" she goes to 

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

lie is, 

48 " sicke ! " aofaine saith hee." 

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

not to lie 

neuer lye soe cowardlye here '^ ! there like a 

•^ "^ coward. 

itt '^ is told in my ffathers hall, 
52 ffor my loue you will dye.'"* " 

" itt is ffor joiiv Loue, ffayre Ladyo,'^ Ho says he's 

in love wit 

that all this dill I drye. her ; 

ffor if you wold comfort me with a Kisse,'*' if she'll kiss 

' fast his hands wringing. — P. the aiixih'ary verb. — F. 

^ lecchinge; to Leche is to Ileal, cure. " ? MS. ednc. — F. 

lije. — P. Leedgingc is from the Fr. ' And serve him with. — lid. 

alleger, to asswagc, mitigate, aUay, sohice. * the red wine. — P. 

Cotgrave. Tliis stanza is in Eel. : " Lothe I were him to tine. — IM. 

Then aiinswerde liimacoiu-teousknighto, '"Fair Christabello to his cliaundKn- 

And fast his handcs gan -WTiuge : goes. Ed. 

Syr Cauline is sicke, and like to dye " thou fayr laAyh.—Ed. 

Without a good Iccchinge.— F. '^ ^I'^i'e defend [as in i?e/.].— P. ? hero 

s Fetche mo.— Eel. soe cowardlye lye.— F. 

* Cp. Loospaine in Eqer <$- Grime, "* ^'■^^ it.— Ed. 

vol. i. p. 362-3, p. 393.— F. ';* You dye for loue of mee.— 7?^^ 

* Goc take him doughe. — Ed. An ^'^ Fayre ladyo, it is for your love. — 
odd uusrcading of Percy's. The & is ^'^''''• 

redundant (as it go often is), and doc is '" Compare Sir Ociicridcs ngiuu, p. 238. 


him he'll get 

But he can't 
be her peer 

unless he'll 
watch all 
night by 

and fight the 



This, Sir 

56 then were I brouglit ffrom bale to blisse; 
noe ^ longer here ^ wold I Ije." 

3 "alas ! soe well yon know, Siv knight, 
I cannott bee jo^ir joeere." 
60 " ffor some deeds of armes flFaine wold I doe 
to be yo?ir Bacheeleere.'* " 

" vpon Eldrige hill there growes^ a thorne 
vpon the mores brodinge ^ ; 
64 & wold you,'' Sir Knight, wake there all night 
to day of the other ^ Morninge ^ ? 

" ffor the Eldrige TLing that is ^^ mickle of Might 
will examine you beforne ; 
68 & there was neuer man that bare his liffe away 
since the day that I was borne. ^^ " 

"but I will ffor yo?«r sake, ffaire Ladye, 
walke on the bents [soe] '^ browne,'^ 
72 & He either bring you a ready e token 
or He neuer come to you againe.*-* " 

Again, when Sir Generides is expecting 

death : 

The flesh wasted fro the booii. 

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 euel he felt no-thing ; 
He kist and clipt w/th al his. might, 
And kept hir in his armes al that night, 
(p. 308.)— F. 

' ? IMS. now.— h\ - No lenger.— i^t^. 

^ For the next stanza Ihl. has : 
Sjr knighte, my father is a kinge, 

I am his onlyc heire ; 
Alas ! and well you knowe, syr knighte, 

I never can he youre fere. 

ladyo, thon art a kinges daughtex', 

And I am not thy peere. 
But let mo doe some doedes of armes 

To be your bachelecre. 

Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe, 

My bacheleere to bee, 
(But ever and aye my heart wold rue, 

Giif hann shold happe to thee,) 

■• knight. — P. s groweth. — Bd. 

^ hrode, to prick. G.D. — P. ? breadth, 
cp. 1. 76.— F. ' dare ye.— Bel. 

8 Untill the fayre.— ^c;. 
" id est, till Day of the next 'Korning. 
"> knighte, so.—Brl. 
" And never man bare life awaye. 

But he did him scath and scorns. 
—Bel. '2 Cp. 1. 81.— F. 

'•' That knighte he is a foul paynim, 
And large of limb and bone; 
And but if heaven may be thy speede 
Thy life it is but gone. 

Nowe on the Eldridge hillcs He 
For thy sake, fairc ladle. — Bel. 

" never more you see. — Bel. 


but this Ladye is gone to her Chamber,' 
her Maydens fFollowing bright ; 
76 & Sir CawUns gone to the mores soe broad,^ 
fFor to wake there all night. 

vnto midnight they ^ Moone did rise, 
he walked vp and do^vne, 
80 & a Kghtsome bugle then * heard he blow 
ouer the bents soe browne. 
sales hee, " and if cryance ^ come vntill ^ my hart, 
I am fFaiT fFrom any good towne ^ ; " 

and goes to 
the moor. 

At midnight 

a bugle 
blows ; 

84 & he spyed ene a litle him by,^ 
a ffuryous King ^ & a 'o flfell, 
& a '^ ladye bright his brydle led, 
that seemlye itt was to see ^^ ; 

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

92 he sayes, " [no] cryance comes to '° my hart, 
nor ifaith I ffeare not thee '^ ; 
ffor because '8 thou minged '^ not christ before, 
Thee lesse me dreadeth thee." [page 370] 

he sees a 
furious king, 

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

' The ladyo is gone to her owno 
chaumbere. — Jit I. 

2 Syr Ciiuline lope from care-Led 
And to the Eldridge hills is gone. — 
Bel. Two bad lines for one good one. 
— F. 

* that the.— lid. 

* Then a lightsome buglo. — Bel. 

* MS. cryamcc. Fear, Old Fr. cruntc, 
crainte. — i'. .^ 

8 Quoth hee, If cryance come till. — 

' My life it is but gone.— AW. 1st ed. ; 
printed right in the 2nd, with a note: 

" This lino is restored from the folio MS.'' 
— F. 

•* And soone he spydo on the mores 
so broad. — Bel. 

" knight : vide infra. — P. 

'" wight and. — Bel. 

" A.— Bel. 

'■' Clad in a fayre kyrtell. — Bel. 

" on.- Bel. 

'* For but if cryance come till. — Bel. 

'^ I weene but. — Bel. 

'" He sayth, ' No ' cryance comes till. 

'- in faith, I M7II not Gee.— Bel. 

'" For, cause. — Bel. 

'" id est, nicntionedst. — P. 



charges the 

Their spears 
break ; 

they fight 
with swonls 



but S/i* Cawline he sliooke a .speare, 
the was bold, and abode \ 

& the timber these 2 Children bore ^ 
soe soone in sunder slode,^ 

if or they tooke & ^ 2 good swords, 
& they Layden on good Loade.^ 

Cawline cnts 
off the 
King's right 

but the Elridge ^ing '^ was mickle of might, 
& stiffly to the ground did stand ; ^ 
104 but S(fr Cawline w^'th an aukeward ^ stroke 
he brought him ffrom his hand,^ 

I, & fflying ouer his head soe hye,'*' 
fFell downe of ' ^ thai Lay laud : 

His Queen 
begs him to 

lier Lord, 

108 '^ & 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, 

' The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his 
steed ; 
Syr Cauline bold abode : 
Then either shooke his tnistye 
speare. — Rel. 
^ bare. — Rcl. ^ yode. — Bel. 

* " & " is often redundant : compare 
line 120.— Dyce. 

* Then tooke they out theyr two good 

And layden on full faste, 
Till helme and hawbcrke, mail and 

They all were well-nye brast. — Rcl. 
6 The Eldridge knight.— i?e^. 
' And stiiFe in stower did staude. — 

8 a backward. — Rel. 
8 smote oif his right hand. — Rel. 
'" That soono he with paine and lacke 
of bloud.— 7i'e^. 
" on.- Rel. 
'■^ For the next two stanzas Rcl. has six : 

Then up syr Cauline lift his brando 

All over his head so hye : 
And here I swearo by the holy roode, 

Nowe, caytiffe, thou shalt dye. 

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

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

For the maydens love, that most you 

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

He shall thy bests obaye. 

Now sweare to mee, thou Eldridge 

And here on this lay-land, 
That thou wilt believe on Christ his laye, 

And therto plight thy hand : 

And that thou never on Eldridge come 

To sporte, gamon, or playe : 
And that thou here give up thy armes 

Until tliy dying daye. 

The l^ndridge knighte gave up his armes 
With many a sorrowftille sighe ; 

And sware to obey syr Caulines best, 
Till the tyme that he sliold dye. 


112 " & lieest ncucr come vpon Eldi-ige [hill] 
him to sport, gamon, or play, 
& to m.eete noe man of m.iddle ^ earth, 
& that Hues ^ on christs his lay.^ " 

116 but he then v]?, and tliai Eldiyge 'King ^ 

sett him in his sadle againe,^ 

& thai Eldryge King ^ & his Ladye 

to theii" castle are they goneJ 

120 * & hee tooke then y^ & that Eldryge sword 
as hard as any ffljTit, 

and he'll 
never fight 

The King 

and Queen 
ride off. 

takes up 
his sword. 

' ? MS. mildle; or middle, with tho 
left stroke of the first d dotted for i. Ou 
" middle earth " see note ■•, p. 92, vol. i. 
— F. 

^ leoves, i.e. believes. — P. 

* lay, i.e. law. — P. 

'' And he then up and the Eldridge 
knighte. — Eel. 
^ anone. — Ed. 

" And the Eldridge knighte. — Eel. 
' gane. — Dyce. 

* Henceforth Percy has it all his own 
way, except in tliree stanzas. For the 
next six stanzas he has these thirty-six : 
Then he tooke np the hloiidy hand, 

That was so large of bono, 
And on it he founde five ringes of gold 
Of knightes that had be slone. 

Then he tooke up tho Eldi-idge swordo, 

As hard as any flint ; 
And ho tooke oft' those ringes five, 

As bright as fyro and brent. 

Home then pricked sjt Cauline 

As light as leafe on tree : 
I-w^'s he neither stint ne blanne. 

Till he his ladye see. 

Then downo he knelt upon his knee 

Before that lady gay : 
ladye, I have bin on the Eldridge hills ; 

These tokens I bring away. 

Now welcome, welcome, syr Cauline, 

Tlirice welcome unto mee, 
For now I perceive thou art a true 

Of valour bolde and free. 

ladye, I am thy ovra true knighte, 

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

Ne more his tonge colde saye. 

The ladye bhished scarlette redde. 

And fette a gentill sighe : 
Alas ! syr knight how may this bee. 

For my degree's soe highe ? 

Eut sith thou hast hight, thoit comely 

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 
Towards that knighte so free : 
He gave to it one gentill kisse. 
His heart was brought from bale to 
The teares sterte from his ee. 

But keep my cotmsayl, syr Cauline, 

Ne let no man it knowo ; 
For and ever my father sholde it ken, 

I wot he woldc us sloe. 

From that daye forthe tliat ladye faji-o 
Lovdo syr Cauline tho kniglite : 

From that daye forthe he only joyde 
Whan shee was in his sight. 

Yea and oftentimes they metto 

Witliin a fayre arboure. 
Whore they in love and sweet daliaunco 

Past manye a pleasaunt houre. 



rings and 

and gives 
them to 
his love. 

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

124 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 foimde the ladye Christabelle 
In an untimely howre. 

Foi- so it befelle as s}t Cauline 

Was with that ladye faire, 
The kinge her father walked forthe 

To take the evenyng aire : 

And into the arboure as he went 

To rest his wearye feet, 
He found his daughter and sjt: Catiline 

There sette in daliaunce sweet. 

The kinge hee sterted forthe, I-wys, 
And an angrye man was hee : 

Nowe, traytoure, thou shalt hange or drawe, 
And rewe shall thy latlie. 

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 sp- Caidines 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 lady^ ; 
And many a time he sighed sore, 

And cast a wistfuUe eye : 
Fairo Christabelle, from thee to parte, 

Farre lever had I dye. 

Faire Christabelle, that ladye bright. 
Was had forthe of the towre ; 

But ever shee droopeth in her minde. 

As nipt by an ungentle winde 
Doth some faire lillyc flowi'e. 

And ever shee doth lament and weepe 

To tint her lover soe : 
Syr Cauline, tliou 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 fap's ladye of love ; 

But never shee wolde them nee. 

When manye a day was past and gone, 

Ne comforte she colde finde. 
The kynge proclaimed a tourneament, 

The * cheere his daughters mind : 

And there came lords, and there came 

Fro manye a farre country^. 
To break a spere for theyr ladyes love 

Before that faire ladye. 

And many a ladye there was sette 

In purple and in palle : 
But faire Christabelle soe woe-begone 

Was the fayrest of them all. 

Then manye a knighte was mickle of 
Before his ladye gaye ; 
But a stranger wight, whom no man 
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 wore prestlye past 

In feates of chivalrye, 
When lo upon the foiu'th morninge 

A sorrowfulle sight they see. 

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

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

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

* To. '.'nd c-dition.— F. 



" but a serrett ^ btiifett you liaue him giuen, 
the 'King & the crowne ! " shee sayd. 
128 "I, but 34 2 stripes 

comen beside the rood." ^ 

& a Gyant that was both stiffe [&] strong, 
he lope now them amonge, 
132 & vpon his squier "* 5 heads he bare, 
vnmackley ^ made was hee. 

& he di-anke then on the K^'h^s wine, 
& hee put the cup in his sleeue ; 
136 & all the trembled & were wan 

ffor feare he shold them greeffe.^ 

"He tell thee mine Arrand, King," he sayes, 
" mine errand what I doe heere ; 
1 40 ffor I will bren thy temples hye, 

or He liaue thy daughter deere ; 

in, or else vpon, yond more soe brood 
thou shalt ffind mee a ppeare.^ " 

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

But he lias 
more tx) do. 

A five- 
headed giant 
leaps in, 

di-inks the 
King's wiue, 

and demands 


The King's 
in a great 

says, " is there noe Kniqht of the ^ round table and asks 

■J ' *' who II 

this matter will vndergoe ? s?'^* for 

° him, 

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

Sir, quoth the dwarffe, and louted lowe, 

Behold that hend Soldain ! 
Behold these heads I beare with me ! 

They are kings which he hath slain. 

The Eldridgc knight is liis own cousinc, 
Wliom a knight of thine hath shent : 
And hee is come to avenge his wrong. 
And to theo, all thy knightcs among. 
Defiance here hath sent. 

But yctte he will appease his wrath 
Thy daughters love to wiiine : 

And but thou yeeldehim that fayrc mayd. 
Thy halls and towers must brenne. 

Thy head, syr king, must goe with nice ; 
Or else thy daughter deere ; 

Or else within these lists soe broad 

Thou must finde him a peere. 

' ? closed fist. Serre, to join closely. 
Halliwell. Fr. serrcr, to close . . force or 
presse neere together ; to loeke, shut or 
put up. Cotgrave. If a king's daughter 
might talk slang, " a shutting-up blow " 
would just do here. — F. 

'^ Read " foxir and thirty." — F. 

' Some verj' great omission here. — P. 

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

•'' unmaclcU}! , uneven, unequal, mis- 
shapen. Makly is even, equal. G. D. 
— P. * greeve. — P. 

' MS. appeare. — F. a peere. — P. 

* And in his heart. — Jid. 

" Is there never a knighte of my.^Nd. 



and have his 



148 ' " I, & liee shall haue my broad Lands, 
& keepe them, well his Hue ; 
I, and soe hee shall my daughter deere, 
to be his weded wifFe." 

' Percy composes again : 

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

Whoever will figlit 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 
It made their hearts to quail. 

All -woe-begone was that fayro lady^. 
When she sawe no helpe was nye : 

She cast her thought on her owno true- 
And the teares gusht from her eye. 

Up then sterte the stranger knighte, 

Sayd, Ladye, be not affrayd : 
He fight, for thee with this grimmo 

Thoughe he be unmaeklyo made. 

And if thou wilt lend me the Eldridge 

That lyeth within thy bowre, 
I truste in Christe for to slay this ficnde 

Thoughe ho bo stitf in stowre. 

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

The gyaunt he stepped into the lists. 

And sayd, Awaye, awaye : 
I swcare, as I am tlie hend soldan. 

Thou lettest me hero all daye. 

Then forthe the stranger knight he came 
In his blacke armoure di<rlit : 

The ladye sighed a gentle sighe, 
" That this were my true knighte ! " 

And nowe the gyaunt and knighte be 
Within the lists soe broad ; 
And now -with, swordes soe sharpe of 
They gan to lay on load. 

The soldan strucke the knighte a stroke, 

That made him reele asyde ; 
Then woe-begone was that fayre lady^. 

And thrice she deeply sighde. 

The soldan strucke a second stroke, 
That made the blonde 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 shall be slaine. 

He grasped his sworde with mayne and 

And spying a sccrette part. 
He drave it into the soldan's syde, 

And pierced him to the heart. 

Then all the people gave a shoute, 
AVhan they sawe the soldan falle : 

The ladye wept, and thanked Christ, 
Tliat had rcskewed lier from thrall. 

And nowe the kinge witli all his b;irons 
Kosc nppe from offe his seate. 

And downo he stepped into the listes 
That curtcous knighte to greete. 

But lie for payno and lacke of bloude 
Was fallen into a swoundo. 

sill CAWLINE. 

152 & tlien stood vp Sir Cawline 
his civile ei'rancl. ffor to say : 
" ifaitli/ I wold to god, Str," sayd Sir Cawline, 
" that Sol dan I will assay. 

156 " goe, ffeitcli me downe my Eldrige sword, 
fFor I woone itt att [a] fFray." 
" bat away, away ! " sayd the heiid Soldan, 
"thou tarrycst race here all day ! " 

ICO but the hand Soldan & S/r Cawline 
the ffought a sum?ners day : 
now has hee slaine that hend Soldan, 
& brought his 5 heads away. 


Sir Cawline 

agrees to 
fisht tlic 

He does so, 

and slays 

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

" but take you too & yo?(r Lands [soe] broad, 
& brooke ^ them well jotir liffe, 
IGS ffor you pj'omised mee jouv daughter deere 
to be my weded wiffe." 

The King 
all his lands, 

but Cawline 
asks for his 


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

Come downe, come downe, my daughter 

Thou art a leechc of skille ; 
Farro lever had I lose halfe my landes, 

Than this good knightc sholde spille. 

Downo then steiipeth that fayre ladye. 

To helpo him if she niaye ; 
Eiit when slie did his LeaA'ere raise. 
It is my life, my lord, she sayes. 

And shriekte and swound awaye. 

Sir Cauline jiisto lifte up his eyes 
When he hfard his ladye crye, 

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

Then giving her one partingo lookc, 
Ho closed his eyes in deathe, 

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

But when she found her comelj'e knightc 

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

And thus she made her moane, 

O staye, my dearo and onlye lord. 
For nice thy faithfulle feere; 

'Tis meet that I shold followe thee, 
Who hast bought my love soe dearo. 

Then fayntinge in a doadlye swoime. 
And with a deepo-fetto sighe, 

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

J 111 failli.~P. 
^ all for his warryson, 
* broke, i.e. enjoy. — P. 

i.e. reward. 



and the 

promises her 
to him 
at once. 


" now by my ffaith," then sayes onr, 
" fFor that wee will not striffe ; 

ffor thou shalt haue my daughter dere 
to be thy weded wiiFe." 

[page 371] 


goes into a 
garden to 

where a 

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

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

lets a lion 
out on him 


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

He thrusts 

his cloak into 

the lion's 


till its heart 


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. ^ 

A watchman 188 
cries, " Sir 

Ilis love 


& the watchmen cryed vpon the walls 
& sayd, " Sir Cawlines slaine ! 

and with a beast is not ffull litle, 
a Lyon of Mickle mayne." 

then the K.ing8 daughter shee ffell downo, 
" for pcerlesse is my payne ! " 

but Sir 

says " I am 

" peace, my Lady ! " sayes S/r Cawline, 
" I haue bought thy lou^c ffull decre. 
196 peace, my Lady ! " sayes S/r Cawline, 
" peace, Lady, ffor I am heere ! " 

brast.— P. 



tlien lie did many this K/»^s daughter 
■With gold & sillier bright, 
200 & 15 sonnes this Ladye beere 
to Sir Cawline the Knight.' 


marries her 

and they 
have 15 sons. 

' N.B. I ventured to make gi-eat addi- 
tions to this Fragment ; of w/nVli I have 
given notice to the Reader, in my P.' 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 " ; invi»rted commas 
to a Init and JS^o ; his * ^^ * at the end ; 
and two notes that he has altered — slode, 
1. 99, to yode, and aukeward, 1. 104, to 
backward. — F. 

Between the first and second parts, 
Percy put in his second edition the 
following note : 

*^* In this concliision of the First 
Paet, and at the beginning of the Second, 

the reader will observe a resemblance to 
the story of Sigismunda and Guiscaed, 
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, " eveeye white, &e. viz. 

" But as extremes are short of ill and 
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." 


[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.) 
Lysteny}', lordynges gente & fre, 
y wyll yow tell of sir degare. 
kny3t«s J>at were some tyme iu landc, 
Far i>ey wolde t'em-selfe fande 
To seke auenturs nyght & day, 
How )?at j^ey my3t J>er strenkyth assay. 
So dud a knyght sir degare, 
I schall yow telle what man was he. 
In bretayne J^e lasse ^er was a kynge. 
Of grete power in all thynge ; 
Styffeste in a.rmour rndur schylde, 
And moost doghtyest to fy3t in fylde ; 
For ther was none verament 
That my3t in warre nor in ttM'namont, 
Nodur in lustyng for no thynge, 
Hym owte of hys saduU brynge, 
Nor owt of hys sterop bryngo hys foto ; 
[fol. 258] So strongo lie was of boonc & blodc. 

There was an unicjue copy of Wynkyn de Worde's edition sold 
at Heber's sale. Probably the edition issued by Copland circ. 


1545, of which a copy is preserved in the British Museum, 
(lififered 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 CoplanxVs Edition.) 

Syr Degore stode in a studye than 
And thought he was a doiightie man 
And I am in my yongo 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 i-enowne 
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 eitie hys ynne he takes 
And resteth him and mcrye makes. 

(}From Bailee's MS. 2G1, fol. 8.) 

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

' Douoc's MS. note in MS. 261 : celebrated MS., which was written aboiit 

" This MS. was purchased by some the time of Charles II. ; and there may 

bookseller at the sale of the Fairfax be other volumes of the like nature as 

library at Leeds Castle, in 1831. the present existing in obscure libra- 

" The MS. from which the metrical ries, and even made up by the present 

romance of Robert the Devil was printed transcriber. 

by J. Herbert in 1798 was certainly " Qy. what became of the MS. of 7?ofer^ 

written by the person who wrote the the Devil, which was successively in the 

present MS., and illuminated with the possession of Mr. Rawlinson, Horace 

same kind of rude di-a wings. Ho was Walpole, Mr. Edwards of Pall Mall, 

prolialily a collector of metrical romances Mr. Egcrton, Mr. Allen, Mr. Caulfield, 

like tlio (ranscribcr of Eisliop Percy's and ' Mastorro Samuelle Irelande '? " 


And yf I maj-e beare the Kinge downo 
I maye be a man of greate renowne 
And yf that he me fall canne 
There Icnoweth no bodye what I am 
Death or lyfe wliat 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 liathe sent me to youe right 
To warne youe liowe yt shalbe 
My lorde will come and iuste with the 

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

{From Abbotsford Club Copy.) 

Sire Degarre thous thenche gan, 
" Ich am a staleworht man ; 
And of min owen Ich haue a stede, 
Sward, & spere, & riche wede ; 
And 3if Ich felle the Kyng adoun, 
Euere Ich haue wonnen renoun. 
And thei that he me harte sore, 
No man wot wer Ich was bore ; 
Whether deth other lif me bitide 
A3en the King Ich wille ride." 
In the cite his in he taketli, 
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 Jolm Kynge for his lycense for pryntirge of these 
copyes Lucas Yrialis, nyce wanton, impatiens poverte, the proud 
wyves pater noster, the Squyre of Low deggre, Syr deggre ; graunted 
the X of June 1560. Vf. 

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. 


The romance is certainly older than the middle of the four- 
teenth century, for that is the date at which the Auchiuleck jMS. 
was written. Warton (who gives a most inaccurate analysis of 
A, which is transcribed by the editor of the Abbotsford Club 
edition) conjectures that it may belong to the same century as 
the Squire of Loiv Degree and Sir Gay — 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 nenimede thous the. 

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 dififuseness 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 state!}'- 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. 




[The First Part.] 

[How Sir Degree's Father ravished a Princess, and begat him ; and how ho was 
brought up by a Hermit.] 

I'll tell you a 

talc of Sir 

An English 

feared in 


has <a 



She is wooed 
by well-bom 





LORDINGS, & you will hold you still, 

a gentle tale I will you tell, 

all of knights of this countrye 

the w7i/ch haue trauelled beyond the sea, 

as did a knight called S^r Degree, 

one of the best was fFound him before. ' 

that 2 time in England dwelled a, 

a stout man in manners and all thinge, 

both in Armour and on the sheeld ^ 

he was much doubted in battell & in ffeild. 

there was noe man in verament 

tJiai lusted w^th him in turnament 

that out of his stirropps might stirr his ffoote, 

he was soe strong without doubt, 

the K-mg had no more Children but one, 

a daughter white as whales bone ■* ; 

that mayd hee loued as his liffe ; 

her mother was dead, the Queene his wifFo ; 

in trauell of Chyld shee dyed, alas ! 

& when this mayd of age was, 

Kings sonnes her wooed then, 

Emperoures, Dukes, & other men, 

for to haue had her in Marryage 

for loue of her great heritage. 

' then found was hee : sic leg".'- mctri 
gratia, but as Degree is occasionally 
written Degore, Pt. 2, 1. 303 [Pt. 3, 
]. 483] it may perhaps have been so 
here.- — P. The old edition reprinted by 
Uttorson calls the hero "Sir Degoro" 
throughout. — Skeat (who gives the va- 
rious readings here). 

'■^ what.— P. 

' in Shield.— P. 

^ wlien first taken out of tlir fish it is 

very white. — P. Strange that Percy 
should have supposed, as our earliest 
writers did, that the ivory of those days 
was made from the bones of the M'hale! 
It was, in fact, made from the teeth of 
the walrus. The simile in tlie text is 
frequently found in much later poets; e.g. 
To show his teeth as ivhite as whale' s- 

Shakespeare's Love s Labour' s Lost, y. 2. 










but til en tliey King he made answer, 

" that neuer man hee sliold wedd her 

with-out hee might with stout lustinge 

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, 

a great ffeast the King did hold 

vi3on his Queenes ' mourning day, 

the which was buryed in an abbey. 

soe vpon a day the King wold ryde 

vnto an abbey there besyde, 

to a dirges & masses ^ both, 

the pore to ffeed, & the naked to cloth. 

his owne daughter shee with him rode, 

& in the fForrest shee still abode, 

& sayd, ' downe shee must light, 

better her clothes to amend right.' 

a- downe they be light all three 

her damsells, & soe did shee. 

a ffull long stond ^ they there abode 

till all they men away rode. 

They gatt vp, & after they wold, [page 372] 

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, 

vnto the thicke of that fforrest, 

& vnto a bane * the came att Last. 

then varryed they wonderous ffast,^ 

but none can 
win her 

by unhorsing 
the King in a 


On the 
of his wife's 
the King 
rides to an 
Abbey near 
to hear Mass 
and give 

His daughter 

and her 

dismount in 
the forest, 

cannot find 
their way 

Tliey stop at 
a glade. 

' Three strokes for the u. — F. 

« MS. masques; but see 1. 124, 125. 
— F. 

To do dirigcs and masses bothe. — Utt. 
To do dyryges & masses bothe. — Ff. 
(Caml)r. MS. Ff. ii. 38.) 

' space of time. — P. 

* perhaps Lane, see Part 5, line 58. 

* And into a lando they came at the 

Tlien weried thoy wonder fasto. — Utt. 
In-to a laundo they are comen 
And liaue ryght well vndi<nioinoii. 
— Ff. 



and all lie on 
the grass, 

save the 
who wanders 

loses her 

and fears 
she shall be 

torn by wild 

But then she 
sees a hand- 
some knight, 

who tells her 

he has Ion" 
loved her, 
and she 







fFoi* the wist amisse tliey had gone, 

& downe the Hght euery one. 

the wheather was hott affore none ; 

the wist not what was best fFor to haue done, 

but layd them downe vpon the greene. 

some of them fFell on sleepe, as I weene, 

& thus they fell on sleepe euerye one 

saning the Kmi^s daughter alone, 

& shee went fForth to gather fflowers 

& to heare the song of the small fFowles. 

soe long shee did iforth passe 

till that shee wist not where itt was. 

then can shee cry wonderous sore, 

shee weeped & wrange her hands there, ^ 

& sayes, " alacke thai I was borne ! 

her in ^ this fforrest I am fForlorne, 

& wilde beasts will me i-ende 

or ^ any man may mee ffind ! " 

they way to her damsells shee wold haue came, 

but shee wist not how to come.* 

then shee was ware of a loyfull sight : 

a-fore her there stood a ffayre K.^iight 

that was wellfauored of ffoote & hand ; 

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

& by the rich clothing that hee had on, 

liee seemed to be a gentleman. -^ 

soe stout a man then was hee, 

he sayes, " Madam, god yee see ! 

be yee dread arright of nought ; 

I haue noe armour wz'th me brought, 

but I haue loued you this many a yeerc, 

& now that I haue ffound you here 

' there.— P. 

« MS. herin.— F. 

* before. —P. 

* The waj'e to her clamoscls .'^lio wolde 

haue nomc. — I'tl. 

To hur maydciiys sche wolde anone, 
Eut sche wyste not whych wey to 

goon. — Pf. 
gentlemon. — 1'. 











you shall bee my Lein?»an ere I goe, 

-svlietlier itt tarnes to wayle or ^voe^ " 

but then no more acToe cold sliee, 

but wept and cryed, and cold not fflee. 

anon lie began lier to behold, 

& he did with her whatsoeuer hee wold, 

& there hee bereft lier of lier maydenhead.^ 

& right before her the Knight stoode : 

& hee sayes, " Madam gentle & ffree, 

now With cliild, Madam, I doe thinke you bee, 

& well I wott hiee will be a knaue ^ ; 

therfore my good sword he shall haue, 

my sword heere vpon my hand, 

therew/th tlie Last I did kill a Gyant, 

& I brake the poynt of itt in his head, 

& liere in the fForrest I haue him Layd.^ 

take itt vp now, dame, fFor itt is heere ; 

thou speakes not w/th mee this many a yeere ; 

yett peraduenture they time may come 

that I may speake with my owne sonne, 

& by this sword I may him ken." 
hee kist Ms loue, & went then ; 

the knight passed as liee come, 

all weeping the Ladye the sword vp numc,-'' 

& shee went fibrth sore weeping, 

& there shee ffound her mayds sleeping. 

slice hid the sword as well as shee might, 

& called them vp an on- right, 

& tooke "^ their horsses eueiye one, 

& began to ryde fforth anon. 

then they were ware att the Last, 

many a K.night came priclciug ffast ; 

niHRt now 
yield to liim. 

He then 
ravishes her, 

tells her 
he has 
a boy on her, 

and leaves 
his swor J 
with her for 
the boy 

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

He then goes 

The Princess 
takes his 

returns to 
her maids, 

and they ride 
tUl they 
meet her 

• weale or wop. — P. 
^ maydenhood. — P. 
' A boy, a male child. So in Chauc. 


< ? MS. Lqyd or Lqjvd.— F. layd.— P. 
And in the foldo I it loued. — Utt. 

I brake the poynt in his hedd, 
Wherc-of y wot ))at he was dcdd. 

— Pf. 
^ numc, iionic, took ; Sax. niman, to 
take.— P. 

« Thoy took.— P. 



■»\iio lead 
them to tlic 

After service 

all ride 
home, and 
are merry. 

The Princess 
glows big, 
and weeps 

Her maiden 

asks her why 
she weeps. 


that she is 
with child ; 
and if it's 

her fatlier 
will be 
of incest. 

Her maiden 
Sdys she'll 
manage it all 










fFroni tliey Kjing they were sent 

to wItt ^vh^ch way his daughter went. 

they brought them into the right way, 

& rodden flfayre vnto the Abbey. 

there was done service and all thinge, 

wi'th many a Masse, with rich offeringe ; 

& when these masses were all done, 

& come to passe the hye noone, 

the to his pallace did ryde. 

And much people by his syde, 

& after, euery man was glad & blythe. 

tliis Ladye swooned many a sithe,^ 

& euer her belly waxed more & more ; 

shee weepcd & wrang her hands fTull sore. 

soe vpon a day shee can sore weepe, 

& a mayd of hers tooke good heede ^ 

& said, " Madam, ffor S? Chary tye, 

why weepe yee soe sore ? tell itt mee ! " 

" may den, if I shold tell itt before, 

if thou shold mee beraye ^ I were but Lore ; 

ffor euer I haue beene meeke & mild, 

& trulye now I am with chyld ; 

& if any man itt vnder-yeede, 

men wold tell in euerye steade * 

that mine owne ff'ather of mee itt wan, 

ffor I neuer loued any other man. 

& if my ffather he might know itt, 

such sorrow his hart wold gett 

tJiat hee wold neuer merry bee, 

ffor all his loue is Layde on mee." 

" gentle Lady, gi-eeue itt nought ; 

stilly itt shall bee fforth brought ; 

there shall none know itt certainlyc, 

truly, Madam, but you and I." 

[page 373] 

tiino.— P. 
pcrlia[i.s, keep. — V. 

^ bnwray. — P. 
* place. -P. 






tlie time was come that shoe was vnboiind, 

& deliuered whole and sound. 

a ffayre man Chylde thei'e was borne : 

glad of itt was tlie Lady fforlorne. 

this mayd serued her att her will, 

& layd the Child in a cradle, 

& wrapped him in clothes anon, 

& was ready till haue gone. 

then was this Child to with mother hold ' ; 

shee gaue itt 20" in gold, 

and 10" in siluer alsoe ; 

vnder his head shee can itt doe ; 

& much itt is that a Child behoues.^ 

with, itt shee giues a payre of gloues, 

& bade the child wed no wiffe 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 

This litle Child ffind can, 

gett him to be Christened of the preists hand, 

& helpe him fibr to line on Land 

With this siluer that is heare, 

till the time that hee may armoure beare ; 

& helpe him w/th his owne good, 

ffor hee is come of a gentle blood.' 

& when that they had all this downe,' 
184 the Mayd shee tooke her way right soone : 



The Princess 
gives birth 

to a boy, 

who Is put in 
a cradle 

•with 307. 
under his 

a pair 
of gloves, 

(the boy is to 
marry no 
girl unless 
fit her,) 

and a letter 

asking the 

to have the 

and bring 
him up till 
he can fight. 

Then the 
caiTies the 

' to its— hold, i.e. held.— P. 
Yot was tiic childe vntu the mother 

3yt hys modur can hym boholde 
And toke iiij powndc of golde. — Ff. 

^ is of use to. — P. 

' perhaps done. — P. 



boy and 

to a 


and leaves 
them there. 


the hermit 
finds the 


christens the 

Sir Degree 
(t. i. almost 








w/tli this Cliild in the cradle, and all thinge, 

shee stale away in an eueninge, 

& went her way, & wist not where, 

through thicke and thinn, & through bryar.^ 

then shee was readylye ware anon 

of an hermitage made in stone, 

a holy man that there was wooninge,^ 

& thither shee went without Leasinge. 

& when shee came to the hermitts dore, 

shee sett the cradle there before, 

& turned againe anon-right, 

& came againe the same night. 

the hermitt wakened in the morrow, 

& eke his knaue ** alsoe. 

the Hermitt sayd, " Lore?, I crye thee mercye ! 

methinke I heare a younge chyld crye." 

this holy man his dore vndid, 

& ffound the Child in thai stead. 

there he lift vp the sheete anon, 

& looked on the litle groome ^ ; 

then held he vp his right hand,"^ 

& thanked lesus christ in thai stond,^ 

& bare the child into the Chappell. 

ffor ioy of him hee wronge the bell. 

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

& christened the child wi'th much honor, 

& in the worshipp of the holy Triny tye 

he called the childs name S/r Degree ; 

ffor Degree, to vnderstand I- wis, 

a thing thai almost lost itt is ; 

as a thing thai was almost lost ao:oe,^ 

therfore he called his name soe. 

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

2 dwelling. — P. 

^ servant-boy. — P. 

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

^ hondc. — P. 

^ There is a tag at the end like an s. 

^ gone, past. — P. A Begarer would 
no doubt be formed from a Low-Latin 
devagari, as degasier from devastare. — F. 




tlie Hermitt he was a holy man of Hffe, 
& he had a sister which was a wifFe, 
& sent this child to her full raue ^ 
Av/th nmcli mone by his knaue, 
& bade that shee shold take good heede 
the litle child to ISTourish & fieede. 
this litle Chyld Degree, 
224 vnto the Cytye borne was hee. 
the goodman & the wiffe in ffere 
kept the child as itt their owne were 
till the time 10" ^ -winters were come & spent ; 
then*to the hermitt they him sent, 
the hermitt longed him to see ; 
then was [he] a ffayre child & a ffree, 
& he taught this child of clarkes Lore 
other 10 winters w/thout more ; 
& when hee was of 20 yeere, 
hee was a man of great power,^ 
a staleworth ■* man in euerye worke, 
& of his time a well good clarke.^ 
then he tooke [him] his fflorence & his gloues 
that he had kept ffrom [him] in his house, ^ 
& gaue him his owne letter to reade. 
hee looked there-in the same steade '^ ; 
"hermitt," hee sayd, " ffor St. Charytye, 
was this letter made by ^ mee ? " 





and sends 
liiin to his 

to be suckled. 

She brings 
the boy up 

till he is 10 
years old, 
and then 
sends him 
back to the 

who teaches 
him till he's 

then gives 
him his 
gloves, and 

' rathe [in pencil] P. C— P. ratlio 

(=raue). — Utt. soon. — Ff. and gronio 

for knaue in 1. 220. - ten. — P. 

' powere. — P. ■* stout. — P. 

' And of his tyme,* a well good clerke, 


And also of hys tymc, a godo clerko. 

— Ff. 

That he had token to hys be-hoffe. 
— Ff. 
Utt. has no him in 1. 237, hut has it in 
1. 238.— Skeat. 

' He loked therin the same stede.f 

And he behelde all that dede. — Ff. 
' about, concerning. — Y. Same in 

" He toke hym hys f rcsure and hys Utt. as in Percy. Was ]pya lettur wretyn 

for me ?— Ff .— Skeat. 

* " of hys tinie''=/()r his time,/o;' his day. — Skent. 

t "the same stede"=: thereupon ; lit. at the same place, =Fr. sui- le champ. — Skeat. 



and tells him 
how he 

thanks the 



"I, S/r," liee sayes, "by him thai mce deeme shall, 

thus I you ffound ; " and told him all. 

he sett him on his knees ffull blythe, 

& thanked the hermitt often sythe ; 

& he gaue the hermitt halfe of the golde ; 

& the remnant vp did hee ffoulde. 

[The Second Part.] 

and says he'll 
search out 
his father, 

armed only 

with a good 
oak sapling. 

Degree sets 
off through a 

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

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

kinne.^ " 
" to seeke thy kinne ^ thou mayst not endure 
2'.' parte. <( without horsse or good armour.^ " 
then sayd Degree, " by St. lohn, 
horsse nor harnesse He haue none, 
but a good bitter ^ in my hand, 
256 Lmine enemyes therewith to withstand, 
A full good sapline of an oke ; 
& home "* therewith 1st sett a str[o]ke, — 
haue hee neuer soe good armour him on, 
260 or be hee neuer soe tall a man,^ — 
I shall him ffell to the ground 
With this same batt in thai stond." 
the Child kissed the hermitt thoe,^ 
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 nne. — F. 

^ armoure. — P. 

" A.-S. bitel, beetle.— F. 

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

* mon. — P. " tlien. — P. 











then heard hee great stroakes ffall 

that made great noyse wi'thalh 

fFuU soone he thought that thing to sec, 

to "witt what the stroakes might bee. 

there was an Erie stout & gay 

was come thither that same day 

to hunt ffor a deere or a doe, 

but his hounds were gone him ffroc. 

& there was a Dragon ffeirce and grim, 

fifull of ffyer & alsoe of venim, 

With a wyde throate, & tushes great, 

vpon the Erie can he beate ; 

& as a Lyon were his ffeete ; 

his tayle was long & jBuU vnmeete ; 

betweene his head & his tayle 

22 ffoote Without ffayle. 

his belly was like a whole tunn, 

itt shone ffull bright againe the ^ ssunn. 

His eyen as bright as any glasse, [page 375] 

his scales as hard as anye ^ brasse ; 

& therto hee was necked like a horsse, 

& bare his head vpp with great fibrce ; 

hee was to looke on, as I you tell, 

as thoe hee had beene a ffeende of hell ; 

many man hee had slient,^ 

& many a horsse hee had rent ; 

& to this Erie hard battell he began, 

but hee defended him like a man, 

& boldlyo stroke on him With his sword'* ; 

but of his stroakes he was not affeard, 

flFor his skin was as hard as anye stone, 

Avhcre-ffore hee cold him noe harme done. 

& when the Ei-le degree see, 

he sayd " helpe, ffor Charytyc ! " 

and at noon 
hears a 
noise of 

He finds a 
grim dragon 

24 feet long, 

looking like 
a fiend of 

nttacking nu 

The Earl 
calls on 
Degrof to 
help him, 

' There is a tag to the c.^V. 
* One stroke too f'l w in llie MS. 

' int. al. marred, spoiled, &e. — 1'. 
* swerde. — P. 



and Degree 

knocks the 



But it 

and cuts 




smashes the 
brains out. 

The Earl 

asks Degree 
to his palace, 

knights him, 

and offers 
him half his 





tlien answered Sir Degore, 
" gladlye ! " lie sayes, and god before.^ 
■when tlie dragon of Degree had a sight, 
hee left the Erie, & came to him right, 
then, the Child thai was soe younge 
tooke his staffe thai was soe stronge, 
& smote the dragon on. the crowne 
thai in the wood hee fFell downe. 
the dragon recouered anon-right, 
& hitt the Child wi'th such might 
w/th his tayle in thai tyde, 
thai hee ffell downe vpon his side, 
then degree ^ recouered anon-right, 
& defended him w/th much might ; 
with his stafi'e thai was soe longe 
he broke of him fibote and bone 
thai itt was wonder if or to see. 
320 hee was soe tanghe ^ hee might not dye, 
yett hee hitt * him on the crowne soe hye 
thai hee made his braines out fLye.^ 
then the Erie was glad & blythe, 
& thanked Degree often sithe,^ 
& he prayed him hee wold w/th him ryde 
vnto the pallace there beside ; 
& there he made him a J^nighi, 
& made him good cheere thai night ; 
rents, trcsure, & halfe of his Land 
hee wold liaue seized "^ into his hand, 



' God before (Utt.; Ff. omits it.— Sk.) 
?. e. God going Leforo, God giving his 
aid. Compare, — 

" for, God before, 
We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's 

Shakespeare's Henry V. i. 2. 
" Yet, God before, tell him wo will 
como on." ^n>id. iii. 5. 
1 quote these passages to show that 

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

••^ ? MS. dregree. — F. 

' toughe. — P. 

•I sniote. — Utt. 
. ^ Antl on the hed he hym l):itrid, 
That hys hedd all-to-clatride. — Ff. 

" times. — P. 

' put into possession. Jun. — P. 



& alsoe liis daugliter to be his wifle, 
332 & all liis lands after his liffe. 

& then Sir Degree thanked him hartilye, 

and prayed him, " of his curtesye 

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

& alsoe jonv 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 ^ 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 Jjonl of gentle blood, 

hee gaue Sir Degree a steede flfull good, 

& therto gaue him good armour ^ 
352 w/«"ch was ffaire and sure, 

& alsoe a page his man to bee, 

& a hackney to rj^le on trulye. 

then fforth went S/r Degree, the sooth to say, 
356 many a mile vpon a sunnHers day. 

soe vpon a day much people he mett ; 

he houed * still, & ffayre them grett ; 

he asked the squier what tydinge, 
360 & wence came all those people rydinge. 

the squier answered verament, 

he sayd, " they came ffrom the pr«.?-lament. 

& when they parlaiment was most planere,'^ 
364 the King lett cry both farr & ncre 

and his 

Degree asks 

to see all his 
womaukind : 

if his gloves 
fit any one, 

he'll wed 

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, 

and a page 

They start. 

and meet 
a crowd 

coming from 
the Parlia- 

of a King 
who has 

' glad. — P. ■ your.— r. 

' P. lias added an e at the end in the 

SIS.— F. 

■* halted, stood. - 

* full.-F. 



promised his 
lands and 
to any 
who'll joust 
with him. 

No one has 
boon able to 
do it, 

for the King 
has broken 
their necks 
or backs, 
or speared 
or killed 


resolves to 
try the King, 

meets him, 

and saysho'U 

joust with 


The King is 











' If any man durst be soe bold 

As with, the Kdng lust wold, [page 37«j 

he shold haue his daughter in marryage, 

& all his lands & his herytage.' 

itt is a land good and ffayre, 

& the king thereto hath no heyre. 

certaine no man dare grant thereto ; 

many a man assayd, & 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 ; 

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, 

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 ; 

& I haue horsse & armour goode, 

& as I trow I haue a good steede ; 

I will assay if I can speede ; 

& if I can beare thai 'King downe, 

I shalbe a man of great renowne ; 

& if hee mee ffell can, 

there knowes no body who I am." 

thus in the Cityc his inne he takes ; 

he rested him, & merry makes, 

soe on a day the Kimg hee mett, 

he kneeled downe, & faire him grott, 

& sayd, " my LorcZ, thou King of much might ! 

my Lord hath sent mee to thee right 

to warne you how itt must bee : 

lay LonZ will come & flight w/th yee ; 

to lust with thee my Lord hath nomm.' " 

the K('»7 sayd, " hee shalbe welcome, 

' nomm, i.p. takon ; uiidertakoii ; or lakeii iii'on liiiii. —P. 




be hee K.nig7it or Barrowne, 
Erie, duke, or Churle > in townc : 
tlieres no man lie ^ fforsake ; 
who all may winn, all let liim 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 ]\Iasse to the trinity e ; 

& to the ffather hee offered a ffloren, 

& 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, 

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 King came With many men. 





goes to Mass, 

then arms 

and rides 

into the field, 
where the 
King meets 

' a slave, a vassal. See Chauc. — P. 

^ there is 

I will.— P. 




The lookers- 

have never 

seen so fair a 


as Degree. 

The King 

breaks his 
spear on 
moviiig him, 
and says 

They charge 

and the King 




who gets 







[The Third Part.] 

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

"Many came tliither readylye 

ifor to see their lusting trulye ; 

& all that euer in the fFeild were, 

, they sayd & did sweare 
S'l parte. < , 

■ -^ that ' ere that time the neiier see 

soe ffayre a man with their eye 
as was that younge 'Knight Sir Degree ; ' 
.but no man wist flfrom 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 such a dint ^ 

that his good speare all to-brast ; 

but Sir Degree was strong, & sate fast, 

then sayd the King, " alas, alas ! 

this is a wonderffull case. 

there was nener man that I might hitt 

that might euer my stroake sitt ! 

this is a man ffor the nones ^ ! 

he is a man of great bones ! " 

they rode together then with great randome,'' 

& he had thaught to haue smitten the child downe, 

& he hitt Sir Degree soone anon 

Right vpon the brest bone, [page 377] 

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 ; 


cane MS. — F. 

perhaps dent, impression, mark. 

' made on purpose for this adventure. 
* precipitation, see Jun. — P. 



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

then they rode together w/th much might, 
& in their shields their spercs pight ^ ; 
& in their sheelds their spares all to-broke ^ 
460 vnto their hands with thai stroke, 
& then the Khuj began to speake, 
" giue me a speare that will not breake, 
& he anon shall bo 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 K-ing tooke a spere stiffe & strong, 
& Sir DegTee another strong & longe, 
& stoutlye to the 'King hee smitt. 
472 [The 3 ] King ffayled ; Sir Degree him hitt, 
he made the Kings horsse tnrne vp his ifeete, 
& 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 
480 the w/i/ch before shee neuer see, 
& to lead her liue with such a one 
that shee neuer wist ff'rom whence hee came.* 
the King sayd then to Sir Degore, 
484 " come hither, my ffayre sonne, me before, 
flfor 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 

and shiver 
their spears. 

The King 
calls for a 
fresh one : 

he'll break 

neck or 

But Degree 
upsets him 
and his 
horse too. 

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

The King 
calls Degree, 

' struck, Gl. Chaii«r. — P. 

* There is a blotted letter in the MS. 

with an r over it.- 
^ The.— P. 

i> 2 

* come.— P. 



gives him 

and makes 
him heir of 
his lauds. 


(not trying 
his gloves 
on her), 

and she's his 
mother ! 

Bnt neither 
knows this. 

they are 
put to bed 

and then 








I wold tliinke my Lands well besett 

if itt -were 5 times bett > ; 

fFor "woi'ds spoken I must ^ needs bold. 

afore my Barrons that beene see bold, 

I take tbee my daughter by the band, 

& I cease ^ tbee into my Land 

to be my beyre after mee, 

in loy and blisse fibr to bee." 

great ordinance tben there "was "wrought, 

& to the church dore they "were brought, 

^ & there -were "wedd in verament 

"mto the holy Sacrament. 

& looke "what flfolly hapened there ! 

thai he shold marry his owne mother,'^ 

the "w/a'ch had borne him of her syde ! 

& bee knew nothing that tyde ^ ; 

shee kne"w nothing of his kinne, 

nor yett shee knew nothing of him, 

but both together ordayned to bed, 

yet peraduenture they might be sibb.'' 

this did S/r Degree the bold, 

bee weded her to haue & hold. 

itt passed on the bye time of noone, 

& the day was almost done ; 

to bed were brought bee and shee 

w/th great myrth and solempnytye. 

S/r Degree stood & behold then, 

& thought on the hermitt, the holy man, 

that bee shold neuer [wed] fFor-tby 

neither "wydow nor Ladye 

' better, larger. — F. 
^ There are six strokes for mu in the 
MS.— F. 

* seize, give possession. — P. 

* The Cambridge MS. Ff. ii. 38 is in- 
complete, and ends here with 

And were weddyd to-gedur verament 

vndur holy sacramentc ; 

lo I what fortune and balaunce 

Be-fallyth many a man horow chaunce, 
And comyjj forfie in-to vncow^e lede, 

And takyth a wyfe. — Skeat. 

* P. has added e at the end in the MS. 
— F. 

* Cp. the same incident in Eglanwre, 
vol. ii. p. 380, I. 1065.— F. 

' kin, relations. — P. 



w/tli-out slice might the gloues doe 

520 lightlye on her hands towe. 

"alacke ! " then sajes S<'r Degree, 

" the time that euer I borne shold bee ! " 

& sayd anon wt'th heauy cheere, 

524 " rather then all my Kiugdome heere 
that is now eeazed into my hands/ 
That [I were fap-e out of this lande."^] [page 37 
the ^iii(j these words hard thoe, 

528 & sayes, *' my Sonne, why sayst thou soe ? 
is there ought against thy -will 
either done or sayd, that doe thee ill, 
or any man that hath misdoone ? 
tell mee, & itt shall be amended soone." 
" no, Lord," sayes degree then, 
" but for this marryagt' ^ done has beene. 
I will not w/th no woman meddle, 
neither wifFe, widdow, nor damsell, 
w/thout shee may these gloues doe 
Lightly vpon her hands tow." 
& when they Lady can that heere, 
anon shee changed all her cheere, 
for shee knew that the gloues longed to her, 
& sayes, " giue me the gloues, fayre Sir." 
shee tooke the gloues in that stecde, 
& lightly vpon her hands them did. 
then shee fell downe & began to cry ; 
says, " Jjonl god, I aske thee mercy ! 
I am the mother that did you beare, 
& you are mine owne sonne deere ! " 
Sir Degree tooke her vp thoe 
ffull lightly in his armes towe. 






thinks of 
his gloves, 

auJ laments 

his careless 

The King 
asks what 
the matter 

Degree says 
he can lie 
with no 
whom his 
gloves will 
not lit. 

His wife 

asks for 
the gloves, 
puts them 

and tells 
she is his 

They rejoice 

' Here follow a leaf and throe quarters 
in a difffrent handwriting. — F. 
* MS. cut away. — F. 
That nowe is soascd into my handc 
That I wore fayre out of this laude I— Utt. 

* The tag to the ff, which I read c 
here, and in lines 555, 567, 568, may 
not bo meant for one ; but murri/ag 
would look ugly. — F. 



and kiss. 

Then she 
tells her 

that Degree 
is her son, 

and how he 
was begotten 
on her. 

Degree asks 

her where 
his father 

She can't 
tell him, 

but she 
gives him 
his father's 


that he'll 
not sleep 
till he finds 


then eitlier of other were fFull blythe,' 
& kissed together many a sithe. 
the Kjing of them had much marueile, 
& at the noyse without fayle, 
& was abashed of their weepinge, 
" daughter ! what meanes this thing ? " 
" father," shea sayd, " will you itt heere ? 
you wend that I a may den were, 
no, truly, ffather, I am none ! 
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 
how hee was begotten of her. 
& then bespake Srr Degree, 
" sweet mother ! " sayd hee, 
" where is my fathers wooninge,^ 
or when heard you of him any tydinge ? " 
" sonne,^ " shee sayd, " by heauen ^inge 
I can tell you of him noe tydinge. 
bu^t 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 ^ 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 ^ kccpe, 

night nor day I will not sleepe 

till that time I may my father see, 

in Christendome if that hee bee." 









> lili^ff, lictus, Sax. -P. 
2 dwelling.— r. 
' ? MS. sound.— F. 

* Here again is the cth for fch noticed 
before, vol. i. p. 23, 1. 73, &e. &c.— F. 
^ hee meo. — P. 



[The Fourtli 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,] ^ [page 379] 
& on the morrow when itt was day light 
hee went to the Cliirch to heare a masse, 
.,, rf J ^ made him ready for to passe, 
the 'King sayd, " my next kinne,^ 
I will giue thee 'Knights w/th thee to winne.^ " 
" Gramercy, Lore?," sayes Degree then, 
592 L" but With 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 "* to say, 
596 & forthe he rode on his lourney. 
many a mile & many a way 
hee rode forth on his palfrey, 
& euermor ^ hee rode west 
600 vntil hee came to [a] ^ forrest. 
there wild beasts came him by, 
& Powles song therto merrely. 
they rode soe Long that itt grew to night ; 
604 they sun went downe, & fayled light, 
soone after the found a castell cleere, — 
a Lady truly dwelled there, — 
a fa}Te Castle of lime & stone, 
608 but other towne there was none. 

Sir Degree sayd to his knaue that tyde, 
" wee will to yonder castle ryde, 
& all night abyde will wee, 
612 & aske Lodging flTor Charity." 

ready to 

and will 
take only 

his own 
man with 

They ride 

and one 

come to a 


to ask for 

' p[rintcd] e[opy]. — P. MS. pared piignaro, suporare, lucrari. Buns'' Yoc. 

away. — F. — P. 

^ The MS. has one stroke too many. ■• Truth. — P. 

— F. " ever anon. — P. 

•' A.S. winnan, laLorare, contendere, * a. — P. 



They ride 


and stable 

their horses, 

but can find 
no one 

only a fire. 

Degree sits 
down on the 

3 girls in 

come in 



but will not 
speak to 

Then comes 
a dwarf 
four feet 









• went.— P. 
» Deasf, the upper 
where the high table 

the bridge itt was undrawen tlioe, 

tliey gates tliey stood open alsoe. 

into they castle they can speede, 

but first they stabled vp their steede, 

& the sett vp their hackney. 

enonghe they found of corne & hay. 

they yode ^ about & began to call 

both in the court & in the hall ; 

but neither for loue nor awe, 

liuinge man they none sawe ; 

but in the niiddst of the hall floore 

they found a fayre fyer in thai hower. 

his man sayes, " leaue Sir, 

I haue wonder who hath made this ffyer ? " 

" but if hee come againe to night, 

1 will him tarry, as I am true hnt'gJit.^' 
hee sett him downe vpon the desse,^ 

& hee made him well att ease, 
soone after hee was ware of one 
tJiat into the dore gan to come : 

3 maydens fiayre & fifree 

were trussed vp aboue the knee ; 

2 of them bowes did beare, 
& other towe charged were 
With venison that was soe good, 
then Sir Degree vp stoode, 

& blessed them anon-wright. 

but they spake not to the K.niijht, 

But into a chamber they be gone, [page 379, col. 2] 

& they shut they dore ffull soonc.^ 

anon then after that withall 

a dwarffe came into the hall : 

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

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











the liayrc that on liis Lead Avas, 

looked as yellowe as any glasse ; 

wi'tli milke wliite Lace & goodly blee, 

ffull stoutly then Looked hee ; 

hee ware a sercote ^ of greene, 

w/th blanchmere ^ itt was ffringed, I weene ; 

hee was well cladd & well dight, 

his shoes were crooked as a 'Knight ; 

& hee was large of fFoote & hand 

as any man w<thin the Land. 

Si'r degree looked on him tlioe, 

& to him reuerence he did doe ; 

hut he to him wold not sjaeake ^ a word, 

but made him ready to lay the bord. 

he Layd on clothe, & sett on bread, 

alsoe wine white and red ; 

torches in the hall ^ hee did light, 

& all things to supper he did dight. 

anon then with great Honor 

there came a Lat% forth of her bower, 

& wi'th her shee had m.ayds 15 

that were some in red, & some in greene. 

Sir degree ffollowed anon-right, 

but they spake not to the 'K.nujht ; 

they yode ^ & washed euery one ; 

& then to super wold shee gone, 

that fiayre Lady that was soe bright. 

att middest of the messe shee sate downc right, 

& of euery side her may dens 5, 

fiayre & goodlye [as any were] ^ aliuc.'^ 




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

for supper. 

Then comes 
a lady 
with fifteen 

who also 
won't speak 
to Degree. 

The lady 

her maidens 
sit down to 

' Sur-coat. — P. 

* ? a kind of fur. — F. 

^ nold spcake, sic leg':'' — P. 

* The Sloano MS. Hoke of Curtasye 
assigns wax candles to tho sitting- and 
bed-rooms, Candles of Paris (whatever 
Ihey wore) to the hall at siipj)er time. 

In chainb«r no ly3t jjcrshalle be brent, 

Bot of wax ]pcr-io, yf je take tent. 

In halle at soper schalle caldels (so) 

of parys, l>cr-in )?«t alle men kenne. 
liabces Bokc &c. p. 327, 1. 833-6. 

* went. — P. 

" & goodlye as any were. p. c. — P. 

' On the back of page 379, column 2'.' , 



Degree sits 
down too, 

and takes 
ojit his 
but can 
hardly eat 
anything for 
looking at 
tlie beautiful 

After supper 

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

She plays 

the harp, 







' " By god," then sayes Sir Degree, 

" I liaue you blessed, & you not mee ; 

but you seeme dumbe. by St. lolin 

I will make you speake & I can ! " 

Sir Degree cold of curtesye ; 

lie went & sett liim before the Ladye. 

& when hee had taken his seate, 

hee tooke his knifFe & cut his meate.^ 

ffull litle att [supper] eates hee, 

soe much hee beholds this Mayden ffree ; 

hee thought shee were the fayrest Ladye 

that euer before hee did see. 

& when that they had supped all, 

the dwarfFe brought watter into the hall ; 

the yode & washed eueiy one,^ 

& then to Chamber wold shee gone, 

"now trulye," sayes Degree, " & after I will 

to looke on this Ladye all my flB.ll." 

soe vpon the stayres the way hee nome,"* 

& soone into the Chamber hee come. 

the Lady that was ffayre and bright, 

vpon her bed shee sate downe right, 

& harped notes sweete and ffine. 

her mayds fl&lled a peece ^ of wine ; 

[page 380] 

aro wi-itton, in a later hand, tlio follow- 
ing lines : — 

I promised Silvia to be true, 
nay out of zeale I swore it tooe ; 
& that She might belcive me more, 
gave her in writeing wliat I swore. — 
nor vowes nor oathes can lovers bind ; 
Soe long as pleased, soe long are kinde. — 
it was on a leafo : the wind but blew ; 
away both leafe & promise flew. 

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

' Here the ordinary handwriting of 
the MS. begins again. — F. 

'^ Kcmember that forks were a luxury 
not then introduced. Assume that Dogroc 
had washed his hands, and then he'd 

have fulfilled the requirements of Trac- 

tus Urbanitatis : 

To }pe mete when J^ou art sette, 
Fayre & honestly thow ete hyt: 
Fyrst loke ]pat py liandes be elene, 
And pat py knyf be sharpe & kene, 
And cutte ]>y breed & alle J^y mete 
Ky3th eucn as pan dostc h?t ete. 

Jiabcc's Bokc &c. p. 14, 1. 39-44. 
^ Scothelayingof the s!<r??«pe, or towel 

for the lord to wash with, described in 

Eussell, p. 132 of Bahccs Bokc &c., and 

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

Babees Boke, and Ladye Bcssiyc. — F. 











& then Sir Degree sett him downe 

ffor to heare the harpe sound ; 

& through the notes of the harp shrill 

he layd him downe and slept his ffill. 

that ffaire Lady thai ilke night 

shee bade couer the gentle Knight ; 

& rich clothes on him they cast, 

& 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. 

shee sayd, " Sir K-iiight, 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 ; 

& of my mayds you tooke no keepe." 

& then bespake Sir Degi^ee, 

" mercy, madam, & fforgiue mee ! 

the notes that thy harpe itt made,' 

or else the good wine that I had. 

but tell me now, my Ladye hend,^ 

ere I out of this charaber wend,^ 

who is Lord in this Lande, 

or who holds this castle in his hand, 

& whether you be mayd or wifie, 

& in what manner you lead jour liffe, 

& why you [have] soe * manye women 

alone wz'th-out ^ any men." 

" S/r," shee sayd, " I wold you tell 

& if you wold amend itt well. 

my fl'athcr was a bold Barron, 

& holden honl oucr tower & towne, 

& hee had neucr child but mee, 

& I am heyre heere in this countrye ; 

plays Degree 
to sleep, 

and has him 
covered with, 
rich clothes. 

In the 

she wakes 


him for his 

Degree begs 
her pardon, 

and asks 




and why she 
has no men 

She says 

that she is 
her father's 

' of tliy hiirpo it made, i. e. caused it, 
Sc. my sleepiness. — P. 

" kend, gentle. Gl. Chan. — P. 

' WCHf/, go. — P. 

* you [have] so. p. c. 

* willioutcn. — P. 



and has had 



but a giant 
■who wants 

has killed 
'em all. 

She swoons, 

and on her 
declares he'll 
help her. 

She promises 
him her 

and herself 

to do what 
he will with. 

Degree is 

of the 
chance of 
winning her. 

The giant 
and the 
is drawn up. 










& there liatli woetl [me] many a 'Knlglii 

& many a Squier well dight ' ; 

but there then woones there beside 

a stout Gyant, & hee is fifull of pryde, 

& hee hath me desired long and yore ^ ; 

& him to loue I can neuer more ; 

& hee hath slaine my men ech.e one, 

all sauing my sorry dwarfFe alone." 

as shee stood talking, shee fell to the ground 

& swooned there in that stond. 

& then her Damsells about her come 

& comfoi't her, & her vp nome.^ 

the Ladye wakened, & looked on Sir Degree. 

" O Leaue Dame ! " then sayes hee, 

" be not adread while I am here ; 

ffor I will helpe thee to my power."* " 

" S/r," shee sayes, " all my Lands 

I doe itt ceaze into jotiv hands, 

& all my goods I will tliee giue, 

& alsoe my body while I doe line,''' 

& ffor to bee att yowr owne will 

earlye, late, lowde, and still, 

yea and jour Leman fibr to bee, 

to wreake ^ mee vpon my enemye." 

then was S/r Degree fifaine '' to ffight 

to defend this Ladye in her wriglit, 

& ffor to sloe the other Knight 

& winne the Ladye that was soe bright. 

& as the stood talking in ffeere,^ 

her damsells came with a heauy chcere, 

& bade " draw the bridge hastilye ; 

for yonder comes jour enemye ; 

w/thout you itt draw soone, anon 

hee will destroy e vs euerye one.'' 

[page 381] 

' dcck'd, dressed. — P. 

" before, formerly. — P. 

' nome, took. — P. 

' P. has added an e at tlic end. — F. 

Tliis line is partly pared away. — P. 
revenge. — P. 
glad.— P. 
togelher. — P. 



[The Fifth Part.] 

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

"Sir Degree hee start vp anon Degree 

& thouglit to make liim readye soone, 
& out of a Avindow hee him see ; 
_j ,1 tlien to liis horsse fFull soone did hyc. 
soe stout a man as hee was one, 
in armor say ' sliee neuer none. 

then Sir Degree rode fforth amainc rides forth. 

776 LfFor to ryde this Gyant againe : 

The smote together hard in soothe The giant 

. charges him, 

thai S/r Degrees horsse backe brake m 2. and breaks 

his horse's 

" thou hast,"sayes Sa* Degree, "slaine my goodsteede, back in two. 
780 but I hope Isl quitt well thy meede ! 

to sloe thy steed nought I mil, 

but flight With thee all my ffill." 

then they ffoughten on ffoote in ffeere 
784 with hard strokes vpon helmetts Cleere. 

the Gyant hee gaue S*r Degree 

huge strokes that were great plentye, 

and S/r Degree did him alsoe 
788 till his helmett & basenett ^ were burst in 2. 

the Gyant hee was agreeued sore 

because he had of his blood fforlore,^ 

& such a stroke he gaue S/r Degree thoe 
792 that to the ground he made him goe. 

S/r Degree recouered anon-right, 

& such a stroke hee gaue that Knight, 

& vpon the crowne soe hee itt sett, 
796 that througe his helme and basenett 

he made his sword to goe through his head, 

& then the gyant ffell downe dead. 

this Ladye lay in her castle, 
800 & shee saw the whole battell. 

Then they 
on foot. 

giving one 

The giant 

but ho 



and kills 
the giant. 

The lady is 
as glad as 

saw. — P. 

'' iicad -piece. — P. 

^ lost.— P. 



the birds of 


kisses him 
100 times, 

gives him all 
her lands 
and goods 
and herself. 


says he must 
first seek 
for a year ; 

then he'll 
come to her. 


He rides 

till a knight 

in rich 
rides up to 







& slaee was glad to see that sight 

as euer tlie bird was of daylight. 

then Sir Degree carae into the hall, 

& against him came the damsell, 

& shee thanked him ffor his good deed, 

& into her chamber shee did him lead, 

& vnarmed him anon thoe, 

& 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, 

& my bodye the whilest I line, 

& ffor to bee att jour owne will 

early e, late, lowd, and still." 

he sayd, " Madam, godamercye 

ffor all the ffavour you hane granted race ! 

but I must into ffarr countryee, 

more aduentures ffor to see 

vntill this 12 monthes be agoe,^ 

& then I will come you toe." 

hee betooke her to the heauen 

the Lady wept att their departinge. 

hee leaped on his horsse, the soothe to say, 

& rode fforth on his lourney ; 

& euermore he rode west 

till a Lane he ffound in a fforrest, 

& there came to him [pricking a] K.night ^ 

That well was armed, & on his horsse dight [page ss'j] 

in armour that wold well endure, 

with ffine gold and rich azure, 

& 3 bores heads where therin, 

the w7w'ch were of gold ffine ; — 

itt might well bee his owne, soones ffell,^ 

ffor once hee woono them in battcll ; — 

' gone, past. — P. 

'^ MS. cut away.— F. pricking 

Kt —P. 

' sans failc, without fail. See 1. 841. 



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

Sir Degree answered him w/th words meeke, 
& sayes, " of thy deere I take noe keepe, 
but I am an aduentnrous 'Knight, 
840 & I am goinge to seeke warr & ffight." 
his ffather answered & sayd sans ffell, 
" if thou be come ffor to seeke battell, 
buske ^ thee shortly e in a stonde, 
844 ffor thy fFellow thou hast ffounde." 

then looke what ffolly happened thai tyde ! 
the Sonne againe the ffather did ryde, 
& neither knew of other right ; 
848 & thus they began to ffight. 

they smote together soe hard in soothe 
that their horsses bacckes brake bothe ; 
& then they fFought on ffoote in fere 
852 w/th 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 ? " 
" Sir," hee sayd, " in England. 
a Kings daughter is my mother ; 
860 but I cannott tell who is my ffather. 
" what is thy name ? " then saycs hee. 
" S("r, my name is Degree." 
" Sir Degree, thou ai't right welcome ! 
864 ffor well I know thou art my sonne. 
by that sword I know thee lieere ; 
the poynt is in my poteuere.^ " 
hee tooke the poynt & sett itt tooe,' 
868 & they accorded both tooe."* 

and asks 
him why he's 
come to kill 
his doer. 

Degree says 
he doesn't 
want his 

but to fight. 

The knight 
tells him 
to make 

and they 

till the 
sees that 
sword is 

and asks him 
where he was 


But I know 
not my 

" Welcome, 
my son ! 

I know you 
by your 
He fits the 
point on to 

prepare. — P. 

A pocket or pouch. 

See Bof/ if 

McmHc, vol. ii. p. 305, 1. 21.— F. 
3 ? MS. looe.— F. to.— P. ■' tho.— P. 



and father 
and son are 

They go 
to England. 


his father, 

and they are 


marries his 
own love ; 

and so his 
are over. 

soe long tliey liaue spoken together, 

both, tlie Sonne and the fFather, 

thai they haue both accorded att one, 

872 the iFather & the sonne alone, 
then went fForth S/r Degree 
With his owne fiather trulye. 
vntill they might England see, 

576 they drew thither as they wold bee ; 

& when they to the K.ings palace were come, 

they were welcome wtth all and some. 

& there they Ladye spyed them oner a wall, 

880 & to them shee began to call, 

& shee sayd, " my deere sonne, S/r Degree, 
thon hast thy ffather bronght w/th thee ! " 
" now thankes be to god ! " sayd the Yjlnge, 

884 " ffor now I know w/th-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 'Kiiighi wedded thai ffayre Ladye 
before all the Lords in thai conntrye. 
& then went fforth S/r degree, 

8!)2 & soe did the 'K:lng & all his meanye ; 
vnto the castle the roden in ffere — 
w^th a companye right ffayi-e — 
where dwelled this ^ Ladye bright 

896 w/i/ch before he wan in flBght. 

& there Sir Degree marryed thai gay Ladye 
before all the nobles in thai conntrye. 
& thus came the Knighi out of his care. 

900 god grant vs all well to ffare I 


' that.— p. 

[" In a Mag Morning " and " The Turhc in Linen," printed in L. & Hum. 
Songs, |). 74-79, follow here, and take up p. 383 of the MS.'] 


'■^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 Ploiuman ; and a comparison of the two throws 
considerahle light upon its construction and its language. The 
author seems most indebted to the later pftssiis of Piers Plow- 
man, and I should infer from the line, 

& bade tlieni Ixirre bigglyo • Belzebulj his gates,^ (1. 390) 

and from other indications, that the particular text of Piers 
Ploivman which he knew best was the latest one. And since 
the latter part of this latest text was very likely not written 
much before 1380, we may be tolerably certain at the outset 
that the date of " Death and Liffe " is, at any rate, later than this. 
Again, if we compare " Death and Liffe " with one of the latest 
pieces of alliterative verse known, viz., the " Scotish ffeilde " (see 
vol. i. p. 199 of the present work), we see a remarkable similarity 

' 2 fills. Two of llipse sliort Lines are Langland's J'ision uf wiioni this poem is 

properly but one.— P. The Anglo-Saxon imitated. And as the stop helps the 

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

prose with frequent dots, and printed it has been carried on through the lines 

commonly in short lines; the I-iirlyEug- which are written long in the MS. and ones in long lines. The lims of the without pause-marks. — F. 

jiresent poem in the Folio MS. are written -This Introduction is by the Kev. 

.•^hort to 1. 87 of the text. They are hero W. W. Skeat.— F. 

printed long, with an inverted full stop s See Whitaker's edition of /'«ta- P/ow- 

at the break between them, after Mr. man, p. S64. The passage about " barre 

Skeat's plan in his Purs Ploiomun, from wo ^e jates" is not in Wright's edition. 

VOL. ni. E 


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 lueld (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," 

tlie red rayling roses • the riches of flowers (1. 2-i), 
we find the corresponding line in " Scotish ffeilde," viz. 

railed full of red roses • and riches enowe (1. 26). 

So too, the line in " Death and Liffe," 

a bright biirnisht blade • all hloodg heronen (1. 172), 

is explained by 

till all his hright armour • was all hloudyc heronen (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, 

mauy 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 sivires and sivapped. And 
we find the w^ord siveeres, accordingly^, in D. & L. 1. 54. As 
another instance, take D. & L. 1. 407 : 

he cast a light on the Land • as heames on the sunn. 

Here 07i 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 Icanies full light • all the land over. 
Once more, we find, in D. iV: L. 1. 185, 

both enuje & anger • in their yerno weeds. 


If we consider yerne to mean cai/er (cf. 1. 250), we get no 
particular sense, and destroy the alliteration; but if we take it to 
mean iron, we are right both wa3'S. That this is correct, is 
rendered probable by a similar expression in S. F. 1. 363, viz., 
" in their Steele weeds," wliich is not dubious at all. 

It may be observed, too, that the two poems are very nearly of 
the same length, and are both similarly divided into two parts. 
I shall show presently that the author of " Death and Liffe " was 
familiar with " Piers Plowman," and it is equally certain that the 
author of "Scotish ffeilde " w-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."^ 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 tliis piece is a vision, Avherein the poet sees a contest for 
superiority between ' our lady Dame IjIfe,' and the ' ugly fiend 
Dame Death ;' Avho, with their several attributes and concomi- 
tants, are personified in a fine vein of allegoric painting." ^ It 
is, indeed, written with great boldness and vigour, and with no 
small skill. Lifk is represented as beautiful, loving, cheering 
and blessing all things with her gracious and happy presence, 
wliilst, on the other hand, and in perfect contrast. Death is 

' Reiique.s, vol. ii. p. 303 (oth ed.) sent work. 

- Soo vol. i. p. 199, note, of the pre- ^ Eeliques, vol. ii. p. 301. 

K 2 


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

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 Laclye • & layd forth their branches ; 

blossomes & burgens • breathed full sweete, 

fflowers fflourished in tlie frith • where shee flforth stepedd, 

<f- the grass that was gray ' greened btliue ; 

breme birds on the boughos • busilye did singe, 

^' all the wild ill the wood • winlye the ioyid. (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 indwelling 
desire of the blessings of bliss everlasting. 

I now proceed, iinally, to show to what extent the poet was 
indebted to his older and greater brother-artist, William Langland, 
from whom no one need be ashamed to borrow. His obligations 
are such as detract very little from his originalit}^ and genius, 
but they are instructive to the reader, and therefore it is worth 
while to point them out. I refer to Wright's edition of " Piers 
Plowman," citing by the page as being most convenient. 

A few similarities of expression may be first noticed. 

(1) till that itt neighed neere noone (1. 137). 

Cf. And it ni'ghed neigh the noon (P. PI. p. 425). 

(2) how didost thou lust att lerusalcm ■ w/th lesu my lord (1. 3G8). 
Cf. And justen with Jliesus (P. PL p. 374); and again, 

And who sliolde juste in .Jerusalem (P. PI. p. 370). 


3. It is said of Lady Life, 

& yett befifore thou wast borne- shoe bred in thy hart (1. 128). 
So, of Lady Anima, who is also Lady Life, 

And in the hcrte is liir boom • and hir mooste rcste. (P. PI. p. 162.) 

4. The expression "care thou noe more " (1. 131) occurs in a 
different poem altogether, viz. in Pierce the Ploughmans Crede 
(1. 131, ed. Skeat, 1867); but the expression "to ken kindlye," 
in the former half of the same line, is from P. PI. p. 20. 

5. In 1. 119, praysed should he prayed. Cf. 

Thanne I conrbed on my knees • and cried hire of grace, 
And preide hire pitously, &c. (P. PI. p. 19.) 

But I pass on to points of greater interest and importance. 
Here is the passage which gives the keynote to the whole poem : 

Deeth seith he shal fordo • and adoun brynge 
Al that lyveth and loketh • in londe and in watre. 
LiF seith that he lieth • and leieth his lif to wedde, 
That for al that Deeth kan do • withinne thre daies 
To walke and fecche fro the fend • Piers fruyt the Plowman, 
And Icgge it ther hym liketh • and Lucifer bynde, 
And for-bete and adoun brynge ■ bale deeth for evere. 
G mors, ero mors tua, &c. (P. PI. p. 371.) 

Lif and Deeth in this derknesse • hir oon fordooth hir oother. 
Shall no wight wite witterly • who shal have the maistrie 
Er Sonday aboute sonno risyng. (P. PI. p. 373.) 

The idea of beholding all in a vision is common enough, as in 
Chaucer's House of Fame and the Romaunt of the Rose ; but 
there are jjoints in the present poem which are obviously adopted 
from Langland, and from no one else. Thus the poet wanders 
through a frith full of flowers (1. 22): 

I seigh flourcs in the fryth ■ and hir faire colours. (P. PI. p. 224.) 

He wanders by the river-side, and falls asleep (1. 26-36) : 

I was wery forwandred • and wente me to rcste 

Under a brood bank • by a bournes side ; 

And as I lay and lenode • and loked on tlie watros, 

I slonilirod into a slepyng • it sweyed so niuryo. (P. PI. p. 1.) 


Or, as Langland says on another occasion, 

Blisse of tlie briddes • broughte me a-slepe. (P. PI. p. 15o.) 
Next, he imagines himself on a great mountain (1. 40) : 

On a mountaigne that myddel-ei'the • higlite, as me thoughte. (P. PI. p. 221.) 
Line "49 he adopts from Langland, almost without alteration : 

Mo Lifel a forly • of fairye, me thoghte. (P. PI. p. 1.) 
He sees in his vision an innumerable host of people (1. 50-56) : 

A fair feeld ful of folk • fond I ther bitwene 

Of alle mancre of men • the meene and the riche. (P. PI. p. 2.) 

In particular, he observes a lovely lady (1. 60) : 

A lovely lady of leere • in lynnen yclothed, 

Cam doun from a castel • and called me faire. (P. PI. p. lo.) 

She is in gorgeous attire, like a second lady described by Lang- 
land : 

And was war of a womman • wortliiliche y-clothed, 

Purfiled with pelure • the fyneste iipon erthe, 

Ycorouned with a eoroune- the kyng hath noon bettre, &c. (P. PI. p. 28.) 

The lady, however, is called Life, and has in her train Sir 
Comfort, Sir Hope, Sir Hind, Sir Liffe, Sir Likinge, &c. (1. 100-4.) 
This i^ evidently Langland's Lady Anhna, with her attendants 
Sir Se-wel, Sir Sey-wel, Sir Here-wel, &c. (P. PL p. 160.) After 
this, however, the poet's mind again reverts to Langland's Lady 
Holichirche, who says of herself: 

I nnderfeng thee first • and the feitli taughte. (P. PI. p. 19.) 

Life offers to instruct him, but he is rather afraid of her, just 
as Langland is of IlolichircJic. But just then, a noise is heard 
"in a nooke of the north ;^^ i.e. in the quarter where Lucifer 
dwells ; of. ponmn pedem in aqailone, quoted in P. PL p. 22, 
or, as it stands in Whitaker's edition, at p. 18, 

Lord, why wolde lie tho • thulke wrechede Litcifer 
Lepen on a lofto • in the northe syde ? 

The earth trembles at the approach of Death (1. 147): 

'J'lic \\:\\ w:iggode and clcef • and ;il I he woi'ld qnaved. (P. PI. p. 373.) 


Decatli appears, terrible and resistless, described by Laiigland 

with astonishing vigour in the lines : 

Deeth cam dryvynge after ■ and al to duste passhed 

Kynges and knygbtes • kaysers and popes.' 

Lered and lewed • he leet no man stonde 

That he hitte evene ■ that overe stired after. 

Manye a lovely lady and lemmans of knyghtes 

Swowncd and swelted • for sorwe of hise dyntes. (P. PL p. 431.) 

There is next a strife between Death and Life, as in the pas- 
sages of Langland already quoted, and we find Death boasting 
of her jousting with Jesus at Jerusalem. After this point in the 
narrative, the reader will no longer have to look hither and 
thither for parallel passages, but should read over Passus XVIII. 
of " Piers Plowman," and he will find there the same account of 
Christ's descent into hell, or as it is more generally termed, "the 
harrowing of hell," because our Lord harried or ravaged hell, 
despoiling Satan of his prey. At Christ's descent, a wondrous 
leme ^ (or fjleam) shines around : 

Tho while this light and this leme ■ shal Lucifer ahlende. (P. PI. p. 377.) 

whilst a loud voice is heard, commanding Lucifer to unbar the 
gates : 

A vols loude in that light • to Lucifer crieth, 

Prjmccs of this place ■ unpyuneth and unlouketh. (P. PI. p. 385.) 

And with that Lreeth belle brak • with Belialles barres. (P. PI. p. 388.) 

and Christ enters in triumph, and binds Lucifer in chains (P. PI. 
p. 393). He next delivers "Adam and his issue," returning wdth 
them to Paradise : 

and tho that oure Lorde lovedo • into his light he laughte. (P. PI. p. 388.) 

After this triumph the poet beholds a glimpse of the general 
resurrection, but the sublimity of the spectacle wakes him : 

men rongen to the resurexion • and right -nitli that I wakede. (P. PI. p. 39o.) 
I have only to add that the poem known by the title of "The 

' Two more forcible lines are seldom * I have before shown tiiat /frtwifs is 

to be met with. the true reading in 1. 4(17. 



Harrowing of Hell " has been edited by Mr. Collier and by 
Mr. Halliwell ; that another version of it is to be found in " The 
Parliament of Devils " (see " Hymns to the Virgin and Christ, 
&c.," ed. Furnivall, E. E. T. Soc. 1867); and that the common 
source of all these appears to be a curious passage in the Apoc- 
ryphal Gospel of Nicodemus, for which see Cowper's recently 
published translation of these Gospels. 

[The First Part.] 

vHRIST, christen king • that on the crosse tlioled,' 
hadd ^ paines & passyons * to deffend our soules, 
gine vs grace on the ground ' the ^ greatlj'c to serve 
for that royall red blood • that rann ffrom thy side, 
& take * away of thy winne ^ word • as the world asketh,^ 
that is richer of '^ renowne " rents or others, 
for boldnesse of body • nor blythenesse of hart, 
and learning 8 coninge of Clearkes • ne cost vpon earth ; 

but all wastetli away • & worthes ^ to nought. 

when death driueth att the doore ^ ' w^/th his darts 

then noe trnse '° can be taken • noe treasure on earth, 
but all Lordshipps be lost • & the liffe both, 
if thouhaue pleased the prince ' ^/^atparadice weldeth,^' 
there is noe bearne ^^ borne • tliat may thy blisse recon ; 
but if thou haue wrongffully wrought • & will not 

thou shalt byterlye bye ^^ " or else the booke ffayletb. 


give us 
grace to 
serve thee 

for all 

must come 
to nought 
when we 

The good go 
to bliss, 

the wron, 
doers to 



' qu. tholedst, i.e. suffered. Jun. — P. 
^ qu. liaddest. — P. 
» thee.— P. 

* i.e. & to take &c. in proportion (or 
in the .same measitre) as the World asks 
other things. — P. 

* winne. A.S. wi?zfe, juciindus ; w/;;», 
amicus. Lye. — P. 

* Cp. Vis. of P. PL, Proh : wercliyngo 
& wandrynge • as the world iiskith. — 

■ Qu. or.— P. 

* turns or becomes, S. wror^pan, esse, 
Fieri. Lye. worth, to wax, to become. 
Gloss, to G. D.— P. 
» ? MS. doere.— F. 

'" trusse, package. — F. 

" i.e. governeth. Juiii. — P. 

'■^ i.e. child, human creature: man &c. 
See Gaw". Doug*, passim. — P. 

" lii/itn. Sax., habitare. possidore.— P. 
abyo, A.-S. ahicgan. Cp. " Shal abien it 
bitlre. • or tlie book lieth." P. PI. ed, 
"Wrighf. p. 58.- Sk(>at. 









therfore begin in god • to great en our workes, 

& in his tfaytliffull sonne • tltni tfreelye liim followetli 

in hope of the holy ghost " that yeeld shall neuer. 

god thai is gracyous • & gouerne vs all, 

hringe vs into blisse ■ that brought vs out of ball ' ! 

thus ffared I through a fiiyth ^ • were fflowers were 

brisrht bowes in the banke " breathed ffull sweete, 
the red rayling ^ roses • the riches ■* of fflowers, 
land ^ broad on their bankes " w/th their bright Leaues, 
& a riuer tJiat was rich • runn ouer the greene 
With still starring streanies " thai streamed ffull bright, 
over the glittering ground • as I there ^ glode,'' 
methought itt Lenghtened my liffo ' to looke on the 

then among the fayre flowers * I settled me to sitt 
vnder a huge hawthorne * that hore was of blossomes ; 
I bent my backe to the bole ^ ' & blenched ^ to the 

thus prest I on apace • vnder the greene hawthorne. 
ifor breme ^^ of the birds ' & breath of the fflowers, 
& what for waching & wakinge ' & wandering about, 
in my seate where I sate " I sayed a sleepe, 
lying Edgclong on the ground • list i' all my seluen, 
deepe drcames and dright ^^ " droue mee to hart, 
methought walking thai I was • in a wood stronge, 
vpon a gi'cat ]\Iountaine ■ where Mores ^^ were large. 

May f!o(l 
lii-iiii? us into 
bliss ! 

I walked 
a wood full 
of flowers, 

with a 

and the 
seemed to 
my life. 
I sat down, 

and the 
birds' song 

sent me to 

and I 

that 1 

walked on a 

[page 385] 

' ba]e, sorrow, misery. — P. 

^ frith dim sylvani Nota vit. Ita Jul. 
Burns dovencrat. [?M.S.] "Wherever you 
fare, by frith or by fell," i.e. quocunq«e 
Iter foceris, sive ]ier sylvam, .sivo prr 
Campu/«. Gloss, ad G. D. So Douglas 
Xn. C. 793, rognata per arva, "rang 
(reigii'd) baith be frytli & fald." And in 
Prol. to Lib. 13. In frith or feilde.— P. 

' Cp. "The rose raijleth hir rode." 
Mon-is's Sj^ecimins, glossed "■ rayle, to 
deck, ornament; raylcth, 'pais on (as a 
garment). A. -8. hrcFc/cl, a garment ; 
wiienco night-rrt<7." IJut see railingc, 
1. 37G below. — F. 

* richest. — P. 

' ? leaned, or layd, as in 1. 63.— F. 

" It there, qu. — P. 

' i.e. glided, gladc, Scot, apud G. 
I)nuc/las, est, went, passed, swiftly. 
Gloss, ad G. Doug/rts.— P. 

" i.e. tlie body or trunk. — P. 

" shrunk, started, leantd tow«rds. — P, 
Cf. blink.— Skeat. 

"• A. S. breminan, fremere : celebrare. 

" ? for lift, left, left alone.— Sk. 

"^ great, noble, line, A.-S. drilit. — Sk. 

'^ iiuire, Mons, borealibus Anglis. A.S. 
mor, Mons. L[ye]. — P. Moors. — Skeat. 



whence I 

all the world 
in its wealth. 

And on the 
South I saw 
a crowd of 

earls, and 





On the 

East I saw 

a lovely 60 


that I might see on euerye side • 17 miles, 

both of woods & wasts * & walled townes, 

comelye castles & Cleare • wtth caruen towers, 

parkes and Pallaces • & pastures ifull many, 

all the world full of welth • vuulye ^ to behold. 

I sett me downe softlye • and sayd these words : 

" I will not kere out of Kythe ^ • before I knoAV more." 

& I wayted ^ me about * wonders to know, 

& I ^ ff'ayi'lye beflfell • soe fayre me bethought 

I saw on the south syde * a seemelye sight, 

of comelye Knights full keene " & knights ^ ffull 

Princes in the presse ' proudlye attyred, 
Dukes that were doughtye * & many deere Ei'les, 
Sweeres ^ & swaynes ' that swarmed fiull thicke ; 
there was neither hill nor holte ^ " nor haunt there 

but itt was planted ffull of peoj^le • the plaine and the 

there ouer that oste ^ " Estward I looked 
into a boolish ^ banke • the brightest of other, 
that shimeredi" and shone • as the sheere '' heauen 
throughe the light of a Ladye " that longed '^ therin. 
shee came cheereing ffull comlye • wi'th companye '^ 

vpon cleare clothes ' were all of cleare gold. 

' fort^, winli/e,[.e. pleasantly, jiicunde. 
Lye. — P. ? viewlye. — F. 

^ Kythe, knowledge. — P. region, A.-S. 
cyS. — Skeat. 

* Old Prench gaiter, to spy about. — ■ 

•* it, query. — P. "Me bifel a ferly • 
of fiiirye me thoghte." Vis. of P. PL, Pro- 
logue. — Skeat. 

^ King.'!, Qu.— P. 

* furte sqiiires. — P. Yes, often used 
in AUit. Poems, ed. Morris &c. — F. 

' holt, a wood, a rough Place, &c. 
Lye. hiiUis, Scot., are hills, higher 

grounds, or rather Woods & forrests 
(so). Gloss, to G. D.— P. 
8 hoste.— P. 

^ Perhaps " tumid, swelling, rounded." 
Thus hole in 1. 32, from Old English 
holne, to swell; see Partenay, s.v. bolnid. 
Cf. "The flax was hulled," Bible.— Sk. 

'" idem (ic glimmered, Chauc. A.S. 
scymricm, to shine, glitter. L. — P. 

" sheer, pure, clear. Johns.— P. 

'^ lodged, longed. Qu. — P. Abode, 
dwelt, A. -Sax. lingian : lodged is quite 
wrong. See L 136. — Sk. 

" Only half the 7) in the MS.— F. 



layd brode vpoii the bent ' ■ Av/tli brawders ^ ffull riclio, 
04 before iltai ffiiyre^ on the ffeeld • where shee fforth 

shee was brighter of lier blee * ' then was the bright 

sonn , 
lier rudd '' redder then the rose " thai on tlie rise ^ 

meekely smiling w/th her mouth • & merry in her 

cner laus^hinj; for loue ' as shee hke wold. 
& as shee eame by the bankes • the boughes eche one 
they lowted^ to thai Ladye • &layd forth their branches, 
blossomes & burgens ^ • breathed ffull sweete, 
fHowers fflourished in the frith ' where shee fforth 

& the grasse thai was gray • greened beliue ; 
breme birds on the boughes • bnsilye did singe, 
& all the wild in the wood • winlye the ioyed. 
Kin^s kneeled on their knees • knowing thai Ladye, 
& all the princes in the presse • & the proud dukes, 
Barrens & bachelours ^ * all they bowed flfull lowe ; 
all p/ofrereth her to please • the pore and the riche. 
shoe Avelcometh them ffull winlye ' wi'th words ffull 

hend, [page 38G] 

l)oth barnes '" & birds • beastcs & fowlcs. 

then /Aat lowly Ladye i' "on Land where shoe standeth, 





than the 

redder than 
tlie ru'-e, 

f(ir love. 
The boughs 

liowed to 

the blossoms 



the grey 
gi'ass turned 

the -wild 
beasts were 
kneeled to 

the nobles 
and all 
proffered to 
please her. 
She wel- 
comed them 

' Lf-nt, ■vvliPre rushes grow — the field. 
Gloss, ad G. Doug" Declivity. In Scotch 
it signifies a field. See Gloss. — P. layd 
l)rode = siiread out, i.e. her train Liy on 
tlie ground. Cf. 1. 2;"). — Sk. 

^ i.e. cmbroid cries. ^ — P. 

' i.e. Fair thing. Fair Creature, v. 
1. 450.— P. 

•• complexion ; S. Jihoh, color. — P. 

* ruchi, ccjmplcxion. Jun. — P. A.-S. 
riidti, ruddiness. — Sk. 

" rises, Scot., are Lulrushcs, flags, ulva. 
or it may signify shruhs, bushes. Gloss, 
ad G. 1). rise, Chaucero est virga, sur- 
cuhis, a shoot, sju'ig, &c. : e.g. "As 

■white as is the blossom on the Rise." 
Mi. G. 2IG: "As white as Lillie or 
Rose on the rise." R. R. 1015. Jun. 
— P. Gcr. reis, a twig. — Skoat. 

' A. S. /'/«;'«??, incurvare &e. Jun. — P. 

*• burgcn, burgeon, the same as Imd. 
Jun.— P. 

" i.e, Knights. Thxis in K/^?g Richnrcl 
F''s Song (Qu. printed in Hor. Walpole's 
royl Authors. St. G. il backaliers qi son 
hgierc sain doubtless means Kinfffits. 
See also many other places in this col- 
lection. — P. See Gloss, to Land luf. — Sk. 

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

" lovely Lady. Vid. Lin. 258.— P. 



She was 
In green 

her dress 
cut low to 
show her 

and her 



A crown 
was on her 
head, and a 
sceptre in 
her hand. 

Her suite 





and Honour 
her steward. 

thai was comelye cladd • in kirtle & Mantle 
84 of goodlyest greene • that euer groome ^ ware, 
for the kind ^ of tlia\, cloth * can noe clarke tell ; 
& shee the most gracyons groome • that on the ground 

longed ; 
of her driiiyes ^ to deeme ' to dull be my Avitts, 
88 & the price of her [perrie ^] ' can no P[erson] ^ tell ; 
& the colour ^ of her kirtle ' was caruen ffull lowe, 
that her blisfull breastes ' bearnes might ^ behold, 
w/th a naked necke " that neighed '^ her till, 

92 that gaue light on the Land • as beames of the sunn, 
all the 'Kings christened * wrth their cleere gold 
might not buy thai ilke broche ^ ' that buckeled her 

& the croA\Tie on her head • was caruen in heauen, 

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

100 Sir Comfort, thai K.nighi ' when the court dineth. 
Sir Hope & S/r Hind ' yee ^^ sturdye beene both. 
Sir Liffe & S/r Likinge • & Sir Loue alsoe, 
Sir Cunninge '* & Sir Curtesye " that curteous were of 

104 & Si'r Honor ouer all ■ vnder her seluen. 

a stout man & a staleworth ^'^ ■ her steward Lwisse. 

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

^ Qu. kind : if /odd, perhaps from 

* JJrurie, chaucero denotat amicitiam, 
amorem. Lye. Scot, gifts, presents, 
love-tokens. Gloss, ad Gr. D. — P. 

* In this lino a word is missing. It 
is surely the word pcrrir, precious stones, 
never missed in deseriliing ladies: see 
P. PL ed. Wriglit, p. 51 1, note to 1. 901 . 
— Skeat. 

* Person. — P. 

® Qu. Collar, or y" Parr round the 
neck. See Johnson. — P. 
' nnight MS.-F. 

* neighed them till. Qu. — P. 

" i.e. an ornament, jewel, clasp. Jun. 

'° i.e. rarus. Lye. — P. 

" familia, multitudo. Lye. — P. 

'^ that or who. Qu. — P. 

" One stroke too few in the j\IS. — F. 

" i. 0. fort is, stout, lusty, strong. Lye. 





slice had Ladyes of loue • longed her about : 

Dame mirth, & Dame Meekenes • & Dame IMercy the 

dalljance & disport • 2 damsells Hull sweete, 
w/tli all heawtye [&] blisse • beanies to behold, 
there was minstrelsye made " in full many a wise, — 
Avho-soe had craft or cuninge " kindlye to sliowe, — 
both of 2 birds & beastes • & bearnes in the leaues ; 
& ffishes of the fflood • ffaine ^ of her Avere ; 
bii-ds made merrye w^'th their mouth • as they in mind 

tho * I was moued w/th that mirth • that maruell mee 

thought ; 
what woman that was " that all the world lowted, 
I thought speedylye to spye • speede if I might, 
then I kered ^ to a knight • Sir Comfort the good,^ 
kneeling low on my knees • curteouslye him praysed. 
I willed him of his worshipp ' to witt ^ me the sooth ^ 
of yonder Laf///c of loue • & of her royall meanye. 
liee cherished me clieerlye ' by clieeke & by chin, 
& sayd, "certes my sonne • the sooth thou shalt 
124 tliis is my Lady dame Liff'o " that leadeth vs all, 
shee is worthy & wise • the welder of loye, 
gi'eatlye gouerneth the ground ' & the greene grasse, 
slice hath ffostered & fled thee • sith thou was fiirst 

& yett beffore thou wast borne ' shee bred in thy hart, 
thou art welcome, I-wisse • vnto my winn Ladye. 
If thou wilt wonders witt • feare not to ffraine,^ 



Her ladies 

and Disport; 

and about 
her was 
song of men, 

of birds 
aud beasts. 


I longed to 
know who 
this lady 

I knelt to 
Sir Comfort 

and asked 
liiin to tell 

Hr said, 
" She is 
Liuiy Life, 

wlio has 
kept you 
from your 

Yoii are 
welcome to 

' Iliii'', villic'us, A.S. hinc, servus, 
(lomcsticiis. Lye. perhaps fiord. — P. 
Certiiinly fii/nd, hend, gentle. — >Skeat. 

- of, (Iclond. — P. of=Ly, and is re- 
quired by the verb made in 1. 110. — Sk. 

' faine, hihiris, ghui. Lye. — P. 

* i.e. then. — P. 

* kere, A.S. C'crran, cijrrun, vertcre. 

Lye.— P. 

"prayed. Qu.— P. Lines 117-19 arc 
written as foui* in tho MS. — V. 

' witt, scire, hlc c^t, facer e notuiii. — P. 
^Qcken, 1. 131.— F. 

" sootli, vcrus, Veritas. Jun. —P. 

" frayne, interroqnre. Jun. to ask, 
desire. Gloss. G. b.— P. 



I thoiifrbt 
I would be 
hers for 

and our 
joy lasted 
till an hour 
after noon. 

But by two 140 

a born was 
heard from 
the North, 

blowing a 
burly blast, 

and an 

ugly ghost 

a woman 

with a gold 

& I shall kincllje thee ken ' ' cave thou iioe more." 

132 then I was fearfull enoughe • & ffaythfFtillye thought 
' that I shold long with dame liffe ' & lone her for euer, 
there shall no man vpon mold ' mj mind from her take 
for all the glitteringe gold • vnder the god of heauen.' 

13G thus iu liking this liuinge " the Longed ^ the more 
till thai itt neighed neere noone • & one hower after 
there was rydinge & revell ' that ronge in the hankes 
all the world was full woe * winne to ^ behold, 
or itt turned from 12 ' till 2 of the clocke, 
much of this melody e * Avas maymed & marde : 
In a nooke of the north • there was a noyse hai'd, 
as itt had beene a horne • the highest of others, 
w/th the biggest here ■* * that euer bearne wist; 
& the burly est ^ blast " that euer blowne was, 
throughe the rattlingo rout " runge ouer the fieelds. 
the ground gogled ^ for greeffe " of that grim dame ; 
I went nere out of my witt • for wayling care ; 
yctt 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 vglyest '^ ghosts • that on the earth gone, 
there was no man of this sight • but hce Avas affrayd, 
soe grislye & great * & grim to behold. 
& a quintfull * queene ^ ' came quakinge before, 

156 w/thacarued crowneonher head ■ all of pure gold, [p.387] 
& shee the ffoulest ffreake "^ • that formed was euer 



' ken, scire, perspicere, intellig/re. Jim. 
licre it signifies (transitively) to shew, 
make known, inform. See Witf, vcr. 120. 

- alxnle. MS. Longer. — F. 

' viiin, Woe to. Qu. — P. The word 
iroe is llie difficulty : may it be A.-S. wo, 
woh, in the original sense of bent, m- 
clincd? Or rather, it's put for V'n[d']e — 
mad. Wiiuie is joy, pleasure .-^Sk. 

'' bare, fremere, fremitus, roaring, 
raging noise. Lye. — P. 

^ btirly, great of stature or size, bulky, 
corpulent. Johns. — P. 

" joggled, wagged, shook. — Sk. 

' most fright-causing. — F. 

' quaintful, quaint, neat, exact, nice, 
liaving a petty elegance. N.l?. Q) aint 
is in Spencer quailed, dipircssed. John- 
son. — P. 

' Sc. Pride, compare tliis with Line 
183.— P. 

"* freke, Jtomo, a humrn creiiture. 



both of Lido & hew • & hearc * alsoe. 
shee was naked as my nayle * both aboue & beloAve, 
160 shee was lapped about • in Linenn breeches. 

a more fcarffull face ' no freake might behold ; 
for shee was long, & leane " & lodlye ^ to see ; 
there was noe man on the mold • soo mightye of 
164 but a looke of that Lady • & his liffe passed. 

his'^ eyes farden'* as the fyer • tJiai in the furnace 

burnes ; 
they Avere hollow in her head • w/th full hcaiiye 

her cheekes were leane ' w/th lipps full side,^ 
168 w/th a maruelous mouth * full of long tushes, 
& the nebb ^ of her nose * to her navell hanged, 
& her lere ^ like th* lead • that latelye was beaten, 
shee bare in her right hand * & ® vnrid ^ weapon, 
172 a bright burnisht blade " all bloody beronen,'" 
& in the left hand " like the legg of a grype, ' ' 
vfiih the talents that were touchinge ' & teenfull '^ 

w/th that shee burnisht vp her brand • & bradd'-' out 
her geere ; 
176 & I for feare of that freake • ffell in a swond. 
had not S/r Comfort come ' & my care stinted, 
I had beene slaine Av/th that sight • of that sorrowfull 

Ilcr face 
was fearful 
to see. 

Death was 
in her look. 

Her eyes 
flamed like 

Her nose 

hung clown 

to her 


In her right 

hand was a 



in her left 

!i vulture's 


I swooned, 

but Sir 

' hair.- P. 

'•^ loilly or lofllyp, lehhir. Tiirpis 
sonlidiis, A I. Ir'ul, iiboniiiiabilis. M*' Lyo 
MS.— P. loiitlily, Cf. 1. 303.— Sk. 

» Her.— P. 

* i.e. fared, passed, wont, were. — P. 

* side, longiis, prolixus. Lj'c. — P. 

' nebbc, rostrum, AS. vultiis, item 
nasus. Jun. — P. 

' Lore, Lyre, Caro. Lyo. Itan, coiii- 
ploxion. Glcss. ad G. D.— P. 

" an.— P. 

" unrUI, pei'liaps tiie saino as unriidc 

in G. Doug' ; nulc, ludcous, linn-iLlo. 
Gloss, ad G. D.— P. The root scorns to 
be the A.-S. rife or kre^e, cruel, fierce. 
The prefix may be the A.-S. an- or on-. 
— Sk. 

'" Fcr/i boronon or boruncn, vid. p. 
367, St. 48 [of MS.].— P. be-run, run 
over with. — Sk. 

" i.e. Griffin.— P. 

'- toon, esf injuria, ve.ra/io. Jun. Sor- 
row, grief. .Jolinson. — P. 

'" braid, brade, vet. rxpenjij'acirc, aa- 
J'lrrc, cducrc. Lye. — P. 




told me she 
was Death, 
with Pride, 
her suite, 





and all who 
their life. 

She slept 
on the 

and the 
the leaves 
the fish 
were still. 

She hied to 
the happy 

and slew 






then lie lowted to me low ' & learned me well, 
sajd, " be thou not abaslied • but abyde there a while ; 
here may thou sitt & see " selcothes ^ ffuU 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 ^ weeds, 
morninge & mone " Sir Mis[c]heefe his fierc,^ 
Sorrow & sicknesse • & sikinge in hart ; 
188 all tJiat were lothinge of their lifi'e • were lenf* to her 

when shee draweth vp her darts ' & dresseth her to 

there is no groome vnder god • may garr her to stint, 
then I blushed* to that bearne ' & balefullye looked: 
] 92 he ^ stepped forth barefooted! • on the bents browne, 
the greene grasse in her gate • shee grindeth all to 

trees tremble for ffeare • & tipen ^ to the ground, 
leaues lighten downe lowe ' & leauen their might, 
fowles faylen to fflee • when ^ the heard wapen, 
& the flfishes in the fflood ' ffaylen to swimme '° 
ffor dread of dame death • that dolefullye threates. 
With that shee hyeth to the hill • & the heard ffindeth : 
in the roughest of the rout • shee reachcth forth darts, 
there shee fell att the first fflappe ' 1500 
of comelyes Queenes w/'th crowne * & Kiiigs full noble, 
proud princes in the presse ' prestlye ^^ slice qucllethe ; 
of dukes that were doughtye • shee dang out the 

brayncs ; 




' i.e. rarities, vid. L. 96. — P. 

* yerae, prnmptus, ciipidus. L. — P. 
■'' fero, socivs, vet. ang. L. — P. 

* led. — P. Qu. MS. Ictit, or a t crossed 
throiigli for tlie first stroke of an ?i. — F. 
Ic7it is sliort for levgrd; tlius vcre lc)it = 
abode, dwelt. See lott iu Halliwell. 
— Sk. 

* vide Lin. 389.— P. 
« slie.— P. 

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

* tip, Icvifer tangere. L. — P. 
" UHin. Query. — P. 

'» MS. swimnc.— F. 

" prest, paratus, statini. Lye. — P. 



merry maydeus oil the mold • sliee miglitilye killetlie ; 
there might no weapon them warrant ' nor no walled 

younge children in their craddle ' they dolefullye dyen ; 

208 shee spareth fibr no specyaltye ' but spilleth the 
gainest ^ ; 
the more woe shee worketh • more miglitye shee 

when my Lady dame liffe ' looked on her deeds, 
& saw how dolefullye ' shee dunge ^ downe her people, 

'212 shee cast vp a crye ' to the hye TLiug of heauen ; 
& he hearkneth itt hendlye " in his hye throne, 
hee called on countenance • & bade his course take, 
"ryde thou to the reschew ' of yonder wrought^ 

216 hee was bowne "* att his bidd • & bradd ^ on his way. 
that wight,^ as the wind ' that wappeth '' in the skye, 
he ran out of the rainebow ^ " through the ragged 

& 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 th.y sorrow • thy soueraigine comiHandeth, 
& let thy burnished blade ' on th.e bent rest, 

224 that my Lady dame lifFe " her likinge may haue." 

then death glowed & gran • for gryme^ of her talke,"' 


arid bubiL's 

Life then 

cried to 

and He sent 
to lier rescue. 

rushes down 
like the 

and bids 

cease her 

that Life 
might have 
her way. 

' ffdh), \hc reverse oi mujain, (aiikward, 
clumsy) i.e. clever: handy, ready, dex- 
trous. Johnson. — P. - dang. — P. 

^ wrouf,'ht, Scot, wraik, to vex ; Sax. 
wrccan, exulare ; wreccan persequi, iilcisci ; 
wrecca, miser, exul. Wnnifjht perhaps is 
the same with the Scotch wrachit, i.e. 
wretched. — P. 

■■ bown, jun-aius. L. — P. 

* vid. 176 ver.— P. 

" WKjht, swift, nimble. Johnson. — P. 

' wappeth, A.S. tvajrpiati, Phictuare, 
[wapcan, vafuin, to waver, Eosworth], 
perhaps wii.vcih, see S<i.v(.n, written so 
in folio lO.j "Saxon Harold," vcr. 

248 of this song. — P. See Waft in 'Wedg- 
wood. Wajype is iised in Maleore's 
Arthvr of the lafping of the vavcs in 
the bit about Artliur's death, and Sir 
Bcdevere. — Sk. 

' The w is made over a i/ in the MS. 
— R 

* Query furegrhn, i.e. very grim: fore 
ill composition sometimes strengthens 
the meaning, e.g. fore done, fore siianio, 
fore slow. See Johnson on these, grtpiic 
is foulness, dirtiness, im]nirity. — P. A.-S. 
grim, fury, rage ; gij/iucfan, to rage. — F. 

'" h)oked fiercely and grinned for rage 
at Countenance's talk. — F. 

vol,. III. 



earthed her 


and then 



" Devil's 

[page 388] 

why kill'st 
thou man, 
and grass, 
and trees. 

God's handi- 
work ? 

He blest 
bade them 
increase and 

but sliee did as sliee dained ^ • durst sliee noe otlier ; 
shee piglit the pojnt of her sword • in the plaine earth, 

228 & w/th a looke full layeth ^ • shee looked on the hills, 
then my Lady dame Liffe * shee looketh full gay, 
kyreth ^ to countenance ' & him comelye thankes, 
kissed kindlye that ^niglii ' then carped * shee no 

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

236 but if thy fare be thy '' fairer ■ the feend haue thy soule. 
couldest thou any cause ffind ■ thou Kaitiffe wretch. 
That neither reason nor wright "^ ' may raigne w/th 

thy name ? 
why kills thou the body • iliai neuer care rought ^ ? 

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

244 how thou dare doe them to death • eche day soe manye, 
& the handy worke of him • thai heauen weldeth ! 
how keepeth thou his comandements ' thou kaytifFe 

retch ! 
wheras banely '"^ hee them blessed • & biddeth them 

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

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

'■= laith, loath, A.S. Z«S ; O. E. laid ; in- 
visuH, niolcstus, odiosus, fastidium creans, 
Jun.— P. 

' Kereth, ver. 118, quern vide. — P. 
A.S. cyrrun, to turn. — F. 

* to carp, \otiiVs.. Scottish. Lin. 361, 
Gloss, to Ramsays Evergreen. Here it 
seems used forcomplained. Carpit, spoke, 
talked, complained. Gloss, to G. Doug'. 

^ P>irlh, bulk. . . burthen. Gloss, ad 

G. Doug.— P. « the.— Sk. 

' right.— P. * wrought. — Sk. 

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

" hanely, perhaps readily, from banc, 
p. 363, St". 28. — P. Bane, kind, courteous, 
friendly. Northern. This is Kennett's 
explanation of the woixl in MS. Lansd. 
1033. Hallivrell.— F. 

" worth, cssc,fi<:rL A.S. tcodhan. Lye. 

and thou 
ttii'in to 


& thou lett them of their leake ^ " w/th thy liddei-"'^ 

turnes ! 
but W('th wondering ^ & ^\'it'h woe ' thou waiteth them 

full yorne,'* 
& as a theefe in a rout • thou throngeth them ^ 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 ^ blinn ^ of that bine " thou buy must full Stop, or 

you'll suffer 

deere ; for it i" 

they may wary " the Aveeke • that euer thou Avast 
flformed. ' ' 
256 then death dolefully e • drcAv vp her browes, Death 

■^ ^ answers : 

armed her to ansAver • & vpright sliee standeth, 
& sayd : " o, louelye liffe • cease thou such wordes ! 
thou payneth thee with pratinge • to pray me to cease. 

260 itt is reason & right " that I may rent take " it is right 

that I 

thus to kill of the kind " both ^'viujs & dukes, should kill 


Loyall Ladds & liuelye • of ilke sort some ; 

all shall drye ^ Av/th the dints • that I deale Av^'th my 

264 I AA'old haue kept the com7»andement ■ of the hye ' 

of heauen, 
but the bearne itt brake • that thou bred vp ffii'st for the 

when Adam & Eue ^^ • of the earth were shapen, broke God's 

& Avere put into Paradice • to ])lay wtth theii* selues, in Paradise, 
268 & Avere brought into blisse • bidd if the ^' Avoid. 

he Avarned'2 them nothing in the world • but a Avretched 


' leak, vid. lin. 301.— P. A.-S. lac, thulcdst in 1. 1.— Sk. * MS. then.— F, 

play, sport. — F. " i.e. unless thou. — P. 

'^ Udder, slow, sluggish, lazy. Gloss. ' blinn, vet. A. ccssare, desincre, dcsis- 

ad G. D. ; or perhaps as the Sax. lUer, tcrc. Lye.— P. ? bine. — F. 

i.e. malus, sordidus, servilis. — P. A.-S. " wnri/, Chauc. est detestari, execrari, 

li/^re, ly^cr, bad, wicked. Bosworth. — vid. Junius. — P. 

F. " drie, drien, tolcrare, pati. Sax. drco- 

^ Only half of the last ?z is in the MS. ym. Lye. dre, to suffer, endure. Gloss. 

— F. adG. U. dye, qu.— P. 

* greedy, vid. L. 185.— P. eagerly. '" There is a tag at the end like an r 

A.-S. georne. — F. waitdh is used for in the MS.— F. 

luaitcst; this agrees Avith tholcd for " bido if they.— P. '^ forbade.— Sk. 



when Eve 
plucked the 

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

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

My gladdest 
game is to 
iiew at thy 





of tlie fFayutyest ftruit ■ that euer in ffritli grew; 
yett his bidding they brake • as the booke recordeth. 
when Eue ifell to the ffruite " w/th ffingars white, 
& pkicked them of the plant • & poysoned them both, 
I was ffaine of thai ffray • my ffawchyon I gryped, 
& delt Adam such a dint • thai hee dolue euer after. 
Eue & her ofspring • I hitt them, I hope, 
for all the musters ^ thai they made • I mett wtth them 

therfore, liffe, thou me leaue ' I loue thee but a litle ; 
I hate thee & thy houshold • & thy hyndes ^ all ! 
mee gladdeth not of their glee • nor of their gay lookes ; 
att thy dallyance & thy disport • noe dayntye ^ I haue ; 
thy ffayre liffe & thy ffairenesse * IFeareth ^ me but litle ; 
thy blisse is my bale ' breuelye ^ of others, 
there is no game vnder heauen • soe gladlye I wishe 
as to haue a slapp wi'th my ffawchyon • att thy fayre 


Life rejoins : 

"Thy sword 
shall never 
bite me ; 

but when 

are joyful 
with wife 
and child, 

[The Second Part.] 

f Then liffe on the land • Ladylike shee speakes, 

sayth : " these words thou hast wasted " wayte ^ 
I thou no other ; 

2 ffitt <( sliall 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 keopeth : 
202 whet^e ioy & gentlenesse • are ioyned ^ together 

betweene his Avight^ & his wiffe ' & his winne^ children. 

' musttn-s. Qu. — P. devices, tricks. 
— F. 

- servants. — F. 

' daintye, &c. I have no scruple, cere- 
mony. Soe Johnson, Ad Verb. 3''. sense. 
— P. daintye, delight. — F. 

■• yt,'rtr = frighten. So in Shakespeare: 

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

* bremely, Vid. p. 246, St. 19, vi 1. p. 
388, lin. 360.— P. ? briefly.— F. 

* Qu. wate, Scot. i.e. wott. — P. 

' The i lias an accent on it as if for c. 
— F. ^ a wight.— P. » pleasant.— F. 





& when ffaitli & fFellowsliipp • are flfastened ffor aye, 
loue & charitye • which our lord likethe, 

296 then thou waleth ^ them with wracke • & wrath offully 
beginneth ; 
vncurteouslyo thou cometh • vnknoAvne of them all, 
& lacheth ^ away the land • that the Lore? holdeth, 
or woryes his AvifFe " or Avalts ^ downe his children, 
mikle Avoe thus thou waketh ' where mirth was before, 
this is a deed of the dcvill • death, thou vsest ; 
but if thou leaue not thy lake '' • & learne thee a better, 
thou wilt lach ^ att the last • a lothelich^ name." 
" doe away, damsell," q^toth death • " I dread thee 

nought ! 
of my losse ^ that I losse ^ • 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 vnto god " that sendeth vs all grace. 

312 if the dint of my dart • deared^ them neuer, 

to lett them Avorke all their will • itt were litle Toy. 
shold I for their fayrnesse * their ffoolishnes allowe, 
my liffe (giue thou me leaue) • noe Leed ^^ vpon earth 

31 G 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 • but I the ffeild wan 


their lands 
or loved 
ones : 

a deed of the 

answers : 

"I am not so 
guilty as 
you, Life, 
would make 

men from 

and subduo 
them all. 

Never have 
I failed 
in fight. 

' to wale, digere, forte hfc transitive 
pro 'to make to wail.' — P. waletli = 
afflietest. A.-S. wcelan, to afflict, vex. 
— Sk. 

"^ lach, latehe. To take, catch, snatch. 
A.-S. I(eccan, comprehcndero, rapere. 
Urry in Cliaiicl — P. 

' A.-S. Vfellan, to roll, tumble. — V. 

* lake, hidere. Lye. — P. 

* A.-H.lceccan, ffe/a'ccaii, to take, catch, 

seize. (See note ^.) — F. 

* i.e. loatli.'iome. — P. 

' praise, fame. — F. 

« lose.— P. 

' Dere, Chauc" est Icedcre, nocere. Lvo. 

'" Leed, kid, a Person (Scottish). 
Gloss, to Pamsay's Evergreen. Ic'ul, a 
man, from Icod, Sax. Homo. Gloss, ad 

G. 1). _r. 



I killed 










and all the 
knights of 
the Bound 

I jousted 
with Jesus. 

320 sitli tlio ffirst fFrcake • thai formed was eiier, 

& will not leauo till the last bee • on the beere layd. 

but sitt sadlye,' thy lifFe ^ * & ^ soothe thon shalt know. 

If euer any man vp on mold • any mirth had, 
324 thai leaped away with thee, liffe * & laughed me to 

but I dang them wt'th my dints • vnto the derife'' 

both Adam & Eue • & Abell, I killed ; 

Moyses & Methasula • & the meeke Aronn [page 3S9] 
328 losua & loseph • & lacob the smoothe, 

Abraham & Isace ' & Esau the roughe ; 

Samuell,'^ for all his ffingers ' I slew wi'th my hands, 

& lonathan, his gentle sonne ■ in Gilboa hills ; 
332 david dyed on the dints ■ tJiat I delt oft, 

soe did Salomon his sonne • thai was sage holden, 

& Alexander alsoe • to whom all the world lowted ; 

in the raiddest of his mirth ■ I made him to bow ; 
336 the hye honor thai he had • helped him but litle ; 

when I swang him on the swire ^ ' to swelt "^ him 

Arthur of England • & Hector the keene, 

both Lancelott & leonades • w/th other leeds manye, 
340 & Gallaway the good lS.n!ghi • & Gawaine the hynde,^ 

& all the rowte I rent * ffrom the round table : 

was none soe hardye nor soe hye ' soe holy nor soe 

but I burst them w/'th my brand • & brought them 
344 how shold any wight weene * to winn me on ground ? 

haue not I lusted gentlye ' with lesu. of heauen ? 

' seriously, composed, still. — P. 
- Thou Life.— P. 
" the.— P. 

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

» Saul. %r.— P. 

* swire, swira, swir-han, collum, cervix. 

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

" honde, as in 1. 107.— Sk. 


he was frayd of my fFacc • in fFresliest of time. 

yett I knocked liim on the crosse ' & earned ^ throu^he and piercpd 

'' . ° his heart." 

his hart." 
348 & w/th thai shee cast of her crowne • & kneeled downe At Christ's 

, name ail 

lowe Icueel. 

when shee minned ^ the name • of thai noble prince ; 

soe did liffe vpon land • & her leeds all 

both of heauen and of earth • & of hell flFeends, 

352 all they lowted downe lowe ' their Lore? to honor. 

then liffe kneeled on her knees • With her crowne in Life 

her hand, 
& looketh vp a long while ' towards the hye heaiien -, 
shee riseth vpp rudlye ^ * & dresseth her to speake, 

356 shoe calleth to her companye ' & biddeth them ^ come then caiis 

her company 

neere, to her, 

both Kin^s and Queenes • & comelye dukes: 
" worke wiselye by yo?(r witts • my words to heare 
thai I speake ffor jouv speed • & spare itt noe longer." ^ 
360 then shee turneth to them ' & talketh these words, f"/] ^^P = 

' " Death, thy 

shee sayth ^ : " dame death, of thy deeds • now is thy ^^onirhave 

doome shapen ^^X^. 

through thy wittles words ' thai thou hast carped, 
w/iich thou makest with thy mouth • & mightylye 
364 thou hast blowen thy blast • breemlye ^ abroade ^'^°" \^^^ 

•' •> boasted 

how liast thou wasted this world " sith Avights were ^„*^ders of 

euer murthcrcd & marde " thou makes thy avant.^ 
of one point lett vs proue • or ^^ wee part in sunder : 

' carve, sccare, incidirc, sculpcre. Jun. ' The next two pages <ar6 boiTowed 

See also Johnson : Sense 6'.'' — P. from I'. PL Passiis xviii. — Sk. 

^ minn, viiiiff, to mention. Vid. lun. ® On these introductory words, see Mr. 

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

both show it should be nemned. nem is ' avowest. — P. 

miswritten min. — Sk. *■ forte breemlj'e, breme, est atrox, 

' rude, is stiff, strong. It. forcible, ferox ; A. -Sax. lireman, fremere. Lye. 

vehement, ap;<d G. Douglas.— P. ? for "vid. p. 246, St. 19, 388, 1. 283.— P. MS. 

7-ad/i/c, A.Sdx. radlice, quickly, speedily. breenlye or breitlye. — F. 

— F'. ♦ thenn MS.— F. » boast.— Sk. '» ere.— Sk, 



of jousting 
with Jesus. 

But he 



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

368 how diciest thou lust att lerusalem • wi'th lesumy lord, 
where thou deemed his deat[h] • in one dajes time ? 
there was thou shamed, & shent' • & stripped ffor aye ! 
when thou saw the Kw;^ come • w/th the crosse on his 
shoukler ; 

372 on the top of Cahiarye • thou camest him against ; 
Hke 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 railiuge 2 red blood • ran from his s[i]des, 
sith rent him on the rood • with ffull red wounds, 
to all the woes tJiai him wasted • I wott not ffew, 
tho deemedst to haue ^ beene dead • & dressed for 

with a spoar. 

But the 
glory of his 

drove thee 
into Hell, 

where thou 

380 but, death, how didst thou then • w/th all thy dorffe "* 

when thou prickedst att his pappe • with, the poynt of 
a speare, 

& touched the tabernackle • of his trew hart 

where my bower was bigged^ • to abyde for eucr? 
384 when the glory of his godhead • glented ^ 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 
388 thou durst not blushe "^ once backe • for betteiior worsse 

but drew thee downe ffull • in that deepe hell, 

& bade them barre bigglye ^ " Belzebub his gates. 

then the told ^ them tydands • that teened them sore, 

' shend, slicwt, oonfundere dedecorare. 
Lye.— P. 

* railing, rails, apxid G. Doug', is, 
springs, gushes forth, runs. Jl'ln. xi. 724, 
C'riior i\- ]'itls(e lalnuitur nhathcrc plnmo', 
w/i/cli is thus rendered "al the Lhido ha- 
boundantly furtli rails" and — the "licht 
downis up to the skyis glydis." raylcd 
is used by Chaucer in this (Sense. — P. 

^ him tn have. — P. 

■' Vid. P. 116 [of MS.]— P. 

* big, Scotis est coudere, nedificare. 

^ to glent, to glance. Urry. In Chauc^ 
" Her evin glent aside." Tr. & Ores. — 

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

* biggly, i.e. mightily. — P. 
" tlinii toldest. — P. 



392 how thai King came • to kitlien ' his strenght, 

& how shee hud beaten thee on thy bent • & thy brand 

w/th euerlasting liffe • that longed ^ him tilh 

then the sorrow was fFull sore • att Sathans hart ; 
396 hee threw ffeends in the fFyer • many ffell thousands ; 

&, death, thou dange itt on • whilest thou dree ^ might ; 

for fFalte of thy ffawchyon • thou fougbt 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 • thai caught me vpp soone, 

& all wounded as hee was • w/th weapon in hand 

he fastened foote vpon earth • & ffollowed thee ffast 
404 till he came to the caue • thai cursed was holden. 

he abode before Barathron • thai bearne, while he 

thai was euer merke as midnight * w/th mour[n]inge 
& sorrowe ; 

he cast a ligbt on the Land • as beames on * the sunn. 
403 then cryed thai King • with a cleere steuen,^ 

"pull open yo»r ports • you princes w/thin ! 

here shall come in the • crowned w/th ioy, 

w/i/ch is the hyest burne ^ • in battell to smite." 
412 there was flfleringe ^ of ffeends ■ throughe the fyer 

hundreds hurled on heapes • in holes about ; 

the broad gates, all of brasse • brake all in sunder, 

& the King w/th his crosse • came in before. 
416 he leapt vnto Lucifer • thai honl himselfe, 

then he went to the tower * Avhere chaynes were manye, 

how Christ's 
Life had 
beaten thee. 

Boast not, 
then, beaten 
bitch 1 

For Christ 
thee to Hell, 

and bade its 
princes open 
its gates 
and i-eceive 
their King. 

The gates 



Christ bound 

' KytliP, to iippoar, Item, to make 
appear, to show, ab A.S. cy^an, narrare, 
ostendere. cy^e notitia, cy^cre martyr, 
testis. Gloss, ad G. Doug. — P. 

^ belonged. — .Sk. 

* dree, ()u. — P. f/rec = endure, hold 
out. A.-Sa.x. drengan. This is from 
Goth. (iriuffan = serve as a soldier, fight, 

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

' of. —P. Should be tones of. hcame 
is a stupid alteration for Icme, and de- 
stroys the chief-letter.— Sk. 

■'■ voice, sound. Lye. — P. 

" (^u. barne.— P. 

' ? fleinge. gaynest = quickest. — Sk. 



& bound liini soe biglye • that liee for bale rored. 
death, thou daredst ^ that day • & durst not be seene 
420 ffor 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 betookc me the treasure ■ that neue>' shall haue end, 
that neue>- danger of death • shold me deere after. 
428 then wee wenten fforth ■ winlye^ together, 

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

& 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 

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

If yee [loue] well'^ the Ladye * that light in** the mayden, 
& be christened with creame ' • & in yo«r crecde 


haue no doubt ^ 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 ^ * to meddle with 

yonder ost. 

[page 390] 

Adam and 

Daniel, and 
many more. 

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

My children, 
fear not then 

I shall lead 
you up to 

Love Mary, 

be chris- 

she cannot 
meddle with 

' dereclst. — 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. 

* A.-S. cy^, a region ; cij^^e, a liome, 
native country. — F. 

* ye serve well, or love. Qu. — P. 

« hight is. Qu.— P. 

' chreame, Gr. xpiff^ia, gallico chresme, 
oleum sacratum quo in Bapt'."" utobantur. 

* fear. — Sk. 

° maine, S. m(ppi, rohur, vis. Ncscio 
an Might respiciat animi. Main, vim 
corporis. Lye. — P. 


444 against euerlasting liife • thai Ladye soe true." 
then my Lady dame liffe " w/tli Lookes soe gay, 
that was comelye cladd • ^vith. cliristall ^ and Mantle, Then Lite 

raised the 

all the dead on the ground • doughtilye ^ shee rayseth dead, 
448 fairer by 2 ffold • then they before were. 

With that shee hyeth ouer the hills • with hundreds fiull and hied 

•^ away witn 

manye.3 hundreds. 

I wold haue ffollowcd on that faire •* • but no further I i tried to 


might ; 
what With wandering ^ & w/th woe * I waked beliue. 
452 thus fared I throw a ffrith • in a ffresh time, 

where I sayd a sleepe • in a slade greene ; ^u* awoke. 

there dreamed I the dreame * vrhich dread all be- Such was 


but hee that rent all was ^ on the rood ' riche '' itt him- 
456 & bring vs to his blisse • with blessings enowe ! May Christ 

, ,-, fulfil it, 

therto lesu of lerusalem ■ grant vs thy grace, and bring us 

t A I to His bliss! 

& saue there our howse • holy for euer ! Amen i 


• kyrtle Query, petticoat. Lat. En- ^ fair thing, Scil*. — P. 
eombomata. Jun.— P. A word like * Only one stroke for the second n in 
plicor follows in the MS., but is not the MS. — F. 

in Junius. — P. * was all rent. Qu. — P. all is de trap. 

* doughty, strenuus, impavidus, aiii- — Sk. 

mosus. Jun.— P. ' ? rule, control. A.-S. ricsian. Or 

» Only half the n in the MS. — F. riche = rithe, rihte, set right.- -Sk. 


Wiillmn X off Cloutitdlce : ' 

TiiK version here given of this well-known ballad differs very 
slightly from that printed by Copland circ. 1550, reprinted (with 
some alterations from the Folio) in the Reliques, and again by 
Eitson in his Pieces of Popular Poetry. 

The ballad is no doubt far older than the oldest copy extant. 
Dunbar (who died circ. 1530) makes mention of one of its three 
famous heroes. A fragment of an edition older than that 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, 
wlieras men hunt East & west 
4 w^th bowes & arrowes keene, 

And I'll tell 
you of S 

to raise the deere out of their den ; 

such sights has oft beene seene, 
as by 3 yeomen of the north countrye, 

by them itt is I meane. 

Adam Bell, 
Olym of the 

and William 

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

' In 3 Parts. N.B. This is in print in Old Black Letter. Some corrections may 
lif had from this.- P. 




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

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

outlawed for 



wilh'am was the weded man ; 

^ much more then was his care, 
hee sayd to his brethren vpon a day, 
24 to Carleile hee wold fare, 

William is 

and says 
he 11 go to 

there to speake wt'th faire Allice his wiffc 

and his children three. 
" by my truth," said Adam Bell, 
28 " not by the councell of mee ; 

to see his 
wife and 

warns him 

"for if wee ^ goe to Carlile, Brother, 

& from this wylde wood wende. 
If thai the lustice doe you take, 
32 yo«r lifie is att an end." 

" If thai I come not to Morrow, brother, 

by prime ^ to you againe, 
ti'ust you then thai I am tane 
36 or else thai I am .slaine." 

that he'll 
be taken. 

hee tooke his leaue of his brethren 2, 

& to Cai'lilc hee is gone ; 
there he knocked att his owne windowe 
40 shortlye and anon. 

goes to his 

knocks for 

' them. Eeliques (collated only now 
and then). — F. 

^ lithe, attend, hearken, listen. Lye. 

^ fere, companion. Iiui. — P. 

* One stroke too many in the MS. — F. 

* MS. prine.— F. 



his wife, 

and tells her 
to let him in. 


"where be you, ifayre Allice ? " lie sayd, 
" my wiffe, and children three ? 

lig-htlye lett in thy owne husband, 
William of Clowdeslee." 

She saj's 

the place 
is wiitched. 

" alas ! " then sayd fFaire Allice, 

and sighed verry sore, 
" This place hath beene beset for you 
48 this halfe a yeere & more." 

" Let me in, 
and give me 

" now am I heere," said Clowdeslee, 

" I wold that in I were ; 
now ffeitch vis ^ meate & drinke enoughe, 
52 & lett vs make good cheers." 

shee ffeitcht him meate & drinke plentye, 

like a true weded wiffe ; 
& pleased him with thai shee had, 
56 whom shee loued as her liffe. 

An old 
kept 7 yeara 
by William's 

there lay an old wiffe in the place, 

a litle before ^ the ffyer, 
w/a'ch willi'am. had found of charytye 
60 more then seauen yeere. 

goes to 

the Justice, 

and tolls him 
is at home. 

vp shee rose, & forth shee goes, — 

Euill mote shee speede therfore ! — • 
for shee had sett ^ no ffoote on ground 
64 not 7 yeere before. 

shee went into the lustice hall 

as ffast as shee cold hye : 
" this night," shee sayd, " is come to towne 
68 William of Clowdeslee." 

' ? M.S. for vus, or vs, us. — F. 
* besydo. — Bel. 

^ Ouc stroke too many in the MS. — F. 




therof the lustice was full faine,^ 

soe was the Sherriffe alsoe ; 
" thou shalt not trauell hither, dame, for nought ; 

" thy meede thou shalt haue ere thou goe." 

He is glad. 

they gaue to her a right good gowne, — 

of Scarlett itt was, as I heard saine,^ — 
shee tooke the gift, & home shee went, 
re & couched her downe ag^aine. 

and gives her 
a scarlet 

they raysed the towne of Merry Carlilc 

in all they hast they can, 
& came thronging to wjlh'ams house 
80 as fast as they might gone ; 

Then he 
the town. 

there they besett the good yeaman 

about on euerye syde. 
wilKcim heard great noyse of the ffolkes 
84 that thitherward fast hyed. 



Alice opened a backe windowe, 

& looked all about : 
shee was ware of the lustice & Sherr[i]ffe both, 

& With them ^ a fi'ull great rout. 

wife Alice 

sees them, 

" Allice,^ treason ! " then cryed Allice, 

" Euer woe may thou bee ! 
goe into my chamber, sweet husband," shee sayd, 
92 " Sweete William of Clowdeslee." 

and sends 
William into 
her room. 

he tooke his sword & his buckelcr, 

his bow, & his cliildreu 3 ; 
he went into the strongest chamber, 
96 where he thought the surest to bee. 

' glad.— P. 

" Of sciirlatc, and of graiiiu. — JicL 

One stroke too many in the MS,- 
Alas.— /iW. 



She seizes 
a poleaxe. 

shoots the 
Justice on 
the breast, 

but it is 

The Justice 
calls on him 
to yield, 

and orders 
the house 
to be fired, ' 

His men lire 

William lets 
his wife and 
children out 
of a window. 

and prays 

the Justice 
to spare 

ffayre AUice, like a louer true, 

tooke a Pollaxe in lier hand ; 
said, "liee shall dye tliai cometh in 
100 this dore, while I may stand." 

Cloudeslye bent a right good bow 

thai was of a trustye tree ; 
he smote the lustice on the brest 
104 tliai 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 lustice, 

"& the bow & arrowes thee froe." 
" gods cursse on his hart," sayd faire Allice, 
112 " tliai my husband councell[e]tli soe ! " 

"sett ffire on the house," said the sliirriffe, 

" sith itt will nt)e better bee ; 
& burne wee there william," he sayth, 
116 " his waffe & his Children 3." 

the ffyi'ed the house in many a place, 

the ffyer ffledd on hyo ' : 
" alas ! " then said ffayre Allice, 
120 " I see here wee shall dye." 

wilL'ft.m opened a backe windowe 

thai was in his chamber hye ; 
& thei^e w/th sheetes he did let downe 
124 his wiffe and children 3. 

"haue you here my treasure," said Wilh'am, 

" my wific & Children 3 ; 
for gods loue doe them noe hareme, 
128 but wreake you all on mee ! " 

And burnt tlie okl woman and her scarlett gowne, 1 hope. — F. 



WilKam sliott soe wondei'oiis well 
Till liis an'owes were all agoe, 

& fiire soe fFast about him ffell 

tliai liis bow strino: burnt in towe. 

[page 392] 

He shoots 

the sparkles brent & fell vpon 
good wilh'am of Clowdeslee ; 

but then was hee a wofull man, & sayd 
" this is a cowards death to me ! 

but the fire 
gains on 

" leever had I," said will/am, 

" w/th my sword in the rout to runn, 
then here amonge my enemyes wood ^ 
140 soe cruellye to burne." 

and he 
to cut his 

through his 

he tooke his sword & his buckeler then, 

& amongst them all hee ran : 
where the jjeople thickest were, 
144 he smote downe many a man ; 

there might no man abide his stroakes, 

soe ffcircleye on them hee rann. 
then the threw windowes & dores att him, 
148 & then the tooke thai yeoman. 

He rushes 

and kills 

but is taken, 

there they bound him hand & ffoote, 

& in a deepe dungeon ^ him cast, 
"now Clowdeslee," sayd the lustice, 
152 " thou shalt be hano-ed in hast." 

and cast into 
a dungeon. 


" one VOW shall I make," sayd the Shirriffc 

" a paire of new gallowes shall I ffor 
& all the gates of Carlile shalbe shutt ; 

" a paire of new gallowes shall I ffor thee make ; ^ {,'Sm a 

there shall noe man come in thej-att. 

The ShcrifE 

imir of new 

' i.o furious. — P. 

- Ouo stroki! too tow for nn in the MS. 

vol,. III. 

A payr of ucw gallowes, sayd the 

•slieri fo, 
Now shall I fortlip mako.— 7?(7. 



" there sliall not helpe yett Clym of the Cloughh, 

nor yett Adam Bell, 
tho they came wz'th a 1004 men, 
160 nor all the devills in hell." 

gates are 

and the new 
gallows set 

A little boy 
(who is 
sees them, 

Erlye in the morninge ^ the lustice 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 * 
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." 

the litle boy was towne swinarde, 

& kept ffaire Allice swine ; 
full oft hee had scene will/am in the wood, 
176 & giuen him there to dine. 

runs to the 

and tells 
mates of his 

he went out att a crevis of the wall ; 

lightlye to the wood hee runn ; 
there mett hee w/th these wightye yeomen 
180 shortly e & 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.^ " 

— F, 

•Only half tho second n in the MS. —P. A payre of new gaUows there he 

set up. — liel. 
a new paire of gallowes he set up. ' Imng.— P. 




"Alas," then sayd good Adam Bell, 
" thai eue?- wee saw this day ! 

he had better haue tarry ed w^'th vs, 
soe oft as wee did him pi"ay. 

Adam Bell 


" hee might haue dwelt in greene fforrest 

vnder the shaddoowes ' greene, 
& kept both him & vs att rest, 
192 out of all trouble and teene.^ " 

Adam bent a right good bo we ; 

a great hart soone hee had slaine : 
" take thai, child," hee said, "to thy dinner, 
196 & bring me mine arrowe againe." 

shoots a hart 
for the boy, 

" now goe wee hence," said these ioUye ^ 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 "* yeomen, 

all in a mor[n]inge of may. 
here is a fiitt of Clowdeslee ; 
204 another is flbr to say. 

and then 

goes with 
Clim to 

' shadowes. — Eel. shadowes sheene. — 
Printed Copy, in Eel. 

i.e. vexation. Jun. — P. 

wightye. — Eel. * good. — Eel. 



They find 
gates shut. 

[The Second Part.] 

[How Clowdeslee is rescued by Adam Bell and Clim of the Cloughe.] 

And when tliey came [to ^] merry Carlile 

all in a morning tyde, 
tliey found tlie gates sliutt them vnto 

round about on euerye syde. 


2 f parte. J 


"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." 

" Let's say 
we are the 


then spake Clim of the Cloughe : 

" With a wile wee will vs in brings 
Lett vs say wee be messengers 
216 straight come ffrom our Kinere." 

[page 393] 

Adam said, " I haue a Letter well [written ^ ;] 

now lett vs wiselye marke ^ ; 
wee will say wee haue the K-tngs scale ; 
220 I hold the porter no clarke." 

Adam beats 
at the 

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 
Bays they're 
the King's 


" who be there," said the Porter, 

" that makes all this knockinge ■* ? " 
"we be 2 messengers," Quoth. CHm of the Cloughe, 

" be come right ffrom our King-e." 

• to. -P. 

* written. 


' wcrke. — I?cL 
* dinne. — Bel. 




"wee liaue a letter," said Adam Bell, 
" to the Instice wee must itt bringe ; 

let vs in our m.essage to doe, 

that wee were againe to the Kinge." 

" here cometh none in," said the porter, 

" by him thai dyed on a tree, 
till tliai ffalse theefe be hanged, 
236 called wallmm of Cloudeslee." 

The Porter 
at first 
refuses to 
let them in, 

then spake good ^ Clim of the Clougli, 

& swore by Marye ffree, 
" if thai wee stand long without, 
240 like a theefe hanged thou shalt bee. 

" Loe ! here wee haue the 'Kings, seale ! 

what, Lurden,^ art thou woode ? " 
the Porter [weend ^] itt had beene soe, 
244 & lightlye did off his hoode. 

" welcome is my Lorc?s seale ! " he said ; 

" for thai you shall come in." 
he opened the gates shortlye : 
248 an euill opening ffor him ! 

" Now arc wee in," said Adam Bell, 

" wheroff wee are right ffaine ; 
but Christ hee knowes assuredlye ■* 
252 how wee shall gett out againe." 

" had wee the Kcyes," sayd Clim of the Cloughe, 

" right well then shold wcc spcede ; 
then might wee come out well cnouge 
256 when wee see time & ncode." 

but they 
show him 
the King's 

and then he 
lets them 

To make 
sure of 
getting out, 

' the good yeman. — lid, 

* a heavy stupid fellow. L. — P. 

* thought. — P. wont. — 'Re\. i.e. weened, 
note ih, 

* knowes, that harrowed hell. — Eel. 



they wring 
the Porter's 
neck, and 
take his 
keys away. 


the called the Porter to councell, 
& wi-ang 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 ^ this 100? yeere. 

Then they " now wee Will our bowBS bend, 

into the towne will wee goe, 
ffor to deliuer our deere Brother 
268 that lyeth in care & woe." 

bend their 

and go to 
the market- 

then they ben[t] their good ewe bowes, 
& looked their strings were round ^ : 
the Markett place in merry Carlile 
272 they besett in that stonde.^ 

& as they looked them beside, 

a paire of new gallowes there they see, 
& the lustice with, a quest * of Squiers 
276 that iudged wilKam hanged to bee. 

is bound, 
and has a 
rope round 
his neck. 

& Clowdeslee lay ready there in^ a Cart, 

ffast bound both ifoote and hand ; 
& a strong rope about his necke, 
280 all readye ffor to hange. 

' The have had.— Bel. 

* qu. sound. — P. So Aschatn says, 
" The stringe must be rounde." Toxo2)h. 
p. 149, Ed. 176L A precept not very 
intelligible now, P.'s note in Eeliqucs, i. 
142. A string not round would of course 
spoil the shooting. — F. 

^ stound, signum, Momentum, liora, 
spatium, tempus. Lye. — P. 

'' quesf, search ; searchers collectively 
- — also an impanel'd Jury. See Johnson. 

* MS. thorciu.— F. 




the Justice called to liim a Ladd : 
Clowdeslee clothes hee shold haue, 

to take the measure of thai yeoman, 
therafter to make his erraue. 

The Justice 
sends a lad 

to measure 
him for his 

'" I haue scene as gi^eat Marveill," said Cloudeslee, 

" as betweene ^ this and prime ^ ; 
he that maketh. a graue ffor mee, 
288 liimselfe may lye therin." 

"thou speukest proudlye," said the Justice ; 

" I will thee hang with my hand." 
fFull well hard this his brethren towe 
292 there still as they did stand. 


threatens to 


then Cloudeslee cast his eye aside, 

& saw his tow brethren 
att a corner of the Markett place 
296 ready the Justice to slaine. 

"I see comfort," said Cloudeslee, 

" yett hope I well to ffare ; 
If I might h:^.ue my hands att will, 
300 right litle wold I care." 

says he'd 
care little 
if he could 
[page 394] get his 

hands free. 

then spake good Adam Bell 

to Clim of the Cloughe soe ffree, 
" brother, see you marke the Justice well ; 
304 loe, yonder you may him see ! " 

Adam tella 
Clim to 

shoot the 

" att the shirriffe shoote J will 

stronglye w/th an arrow kecne ; 
a better shoote in merry Carlile 
308 this 7 yeere was not scene." 

while he 
shoots the 

' Only half the w in the MS.— F. 

2 prime, the first Part of the day. 
Dawn, morning. .Johnson. — P, 



They both 
shoot ; 

and Sheriff 
and Justice 

they loosed tlieir arrowes both att once ; 

of no man had they di"ead ; 
the one hitt the shirr [i]ffe, the other the lustice, 
312 that both their sides can bleede. 

get their 

all men voyded //;flt them stoode nye 

when the lustice fFell to the ground, 
& the shirrifFe nye him by : 
316 either had his deathes wound. 

They loose 

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 
ajce and 
smites men 

wilUam. start to an officer of the towne, 
his axe out of his hand hee wrunge ; 
on eche side he smote them downe, 
324 hee thought hee tarryed all to longe. 

wilh'am 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 

they shott soe well thai tyde, 

for their stringes were of silke sure, 
that the kept the streetes on euery side ; 
332 that battell long- did endure. 

and kill 

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.' 

And many ;i heart made cold. — P. and Rcl. 



but when tlieir arrowes were all gone, 

men pressed to them fFall ffast ; 
they drew their swords then anon, 
340 & their bowes fFrom them cast. 

till their 
arrows fail. 

Then they 
draw their 

they went lightlye on their way 

With swords & bnckelers round 
by thai itt was midd ^ of the day, 
344 the made many a wound. 

and by noon 
kill many 

there was many an outhorne ^ in Carlile was blowne, The homs 

are blown, 

& the bells backward did ringe ; and beiis 

rung back- 
many a woman said " alas ! " wards. 

348 & many their hands did ringe. 

the Maior of Carleile fforth come was, 

& wi'th him a ffull great route ; 
these yeomen dread him flfull sore, 
352 for of their Hues they stoode in great doubt. 

The Mayor 
comes dowu 
with a 

the Maior came armed a ffull great pace, 

With a PoUaxe in his hande ; 
many a strong man with him was, 
356 there in thai stowre ^ to stand. 

of strong 


they maior smote att Cloudeslee w/th his bill, 

his buckeler brast in 2 ; 
ffull many a yeaman Av/th great euill, 

" alas, treason ! " the cryed ffull woe ^ : 
" kcepe well the gates," ffast they bade, 

" thai these trayters thereout not goe." 


buckler in 

and orders 

the gates 
to be kept 

' middlo, mlddst. — P. 

- Out-horno. An outlaw (!). Halli- 
wcU's Gloss. — F. Read a iwuthorne, a 
ncat'« liorn. Kowt cattle. Wrii^Iit's 

Gloss.— Skeat. 

' figlit, conflict. Lye— r. 

■■ Alas ! they crycd for wo. — Rcl. 



But the 
three get 
safely out. 

throws back 
the keys, 
and tells 
the people 
to appoint a 
new Porter. 

but all fFor naught was thai they wrought, 
364 ifor soe fast they were downe Layd, 
till they all 3 tliai soe manffully ffought 
were gotten out att a brayde.^ 

"haue here jouv 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 ^ to thriue, 

& all tlmi letteth any good yeoman 
to come & comfort his wiffe. 

The three 

go to the 


find fresh 
bows and 

and cat and 
drink well. 

thus be the good yeomen gone to the wood 
376 as lightly e as leaue on lynde ^ 

they laugh & be merry in their wood "• ; 
there enemyes were ffarr behind. 

when they came to merry greenwood, 
380 vnder the trustye tree, 

there they flfound bowes ffull good, 
And arrowes great plentye. 

" soe god me help ! " sayd Adam Bell 
384 & Clim of the Cloughe soe ffree, 
' ' I wold wee were in Merry Carlile 
before iliai ffaire Meanye." 

the sate downe & made goode cheere, 
388 & eate & dranke ffull well. 

a 2"^ ffitt of the wightye yeomen : 
another I will you tell. 

[page 395] 

' Qn. o/l ahraule, i.e. abroad. North 
Country dialect: abroad, ./br/.s-, est abroad, 
Scot, braid, /afus, quod a Sax. brad, al. 
breider. Jun. — P. " att a brayde " is 
suddenly. — F. 

2 No i in the MS.— F. 

" Linden Tree. Lye. A Lime Tree. 
Gloss, to G. Doug.— P. 

* A manifest mistake for " mood," 
which the other copies have. — Dyce. 



[The Third Part.] 

[How the three Outlaws are pardoned by tlie King, and shoot before him.] 



3*! parte. <( 

As tliey sate in English woode 

vnder the greenwoode tree, 
they thought they hard a "woman weepe, 

but her they cold not see. 

sore then sighed ffaire Allice, 

& said, " alas tJiat euer I saw this day ! 
ffor [nowe ^] is my dere husband slaine ; 

alas, and wellaway ! 

They hear a 


that her 
husband is 

" Might I haue spoken wzth 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 hce looked vnder the greenewood lynde ; 
hee was ware of his wiffe & Children 3 
fFull woe in hart and minde. 

finds that 
she is his 
wife, with 
his three 

" welcome wiffe," then said william, 
408 " vnder the trustye tree ! 

I had wend yesterday, by sweet S* lohn, 
thou sh oldest me Jieuer had see." 

He welcomes 

" now well is mo," she said, " that yee be here ! 
412 my hart is out of woe." 

" dame," he said, "be merry & gladd, 
& thanke my bretheren to we." 

and tells his 
wife to 
thank his 


nowe. — Ed. 


" Don't talk 
of that," 
says Adam: 

" let's shoot 
our supper." 


" lierof to speake," said Adam Bell, 
416 " I-wis itt is noe looote ; 

the meate thai wee xaust supp witli-all, 
itt riinetli yett ffast on fFoote." 

Each of the 
three shoots 
a fat hart, 

then went they downe into the Lawnde,^ 
420 these Xoblemen all 3 ; 

eche of them slew a hart of greece,^ 
they best thai they cold see. 


gives the 
best to his 

" haue here the best, AUice my wifFe," 
424 saith wilKam of Cloudeslee, 

" because yee soe boldlye stood by mee 
when I was slaine flfull nye.". 

They sup 

and are 

says " We'll 
go to the 
King for 

then they went to supper 
428 with such meate as they hadd, 
& thanked god ffor their flFortune : 
they were both merry and glad. 

& when they had supped well, 
432 certaine, without any lease, 

Cloudeslee said, " wee will to our 'King, 
to gett vs a Charter of peace ; 

" Allice shalbe att our soiourninge 
436 att a nunnery e heere besyde ; 
my 2 sonnes shall w^'th her goe, 
& there they shall abyde. 

" My Eldest sonne shall goe Av^'th mee, 
440 for him I haue noe care, 

& hee shall bring you word againe 
how thai wee doe JSare." 

* Qu. Lawne. — P. a launcle. — Rcl. 
A clear space in a forest. — F. 

* Fr. graisse, fat. — F. 



thus be these good yeomen to London gone 
444 as ffast as they might hye, 

till they came to the K//;^s j^alace 
where they wold needs bee. 

They then 
go to 

but Avhen they came to the 'Kings court 
448 & to the pallace gate, 

of no man wold they aske leaue, 
but boldlye went in theratt. 


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 ^ : 
good su^rs, ffrom whence bee yee ? " 

tell the 
Usher who 
they ai'e, 

" Sir, wee be outlawes of the fibrrest, 
400 certes without any Lease ; 

& hither wee be come to the "King, 
to gett vs a Charter of peace." 

& when they came before the Kinge, 
4G4 as itt was the law of the land 

they kneeled downe without lettinge, 
& eche held vpp his hande. 

they sayd : " horJ, wee bcseeche yee sure 
468 fhat yee will grant vs grace ! 

for wee haue slaiue yo«r ffatt fallow deere 
in ^ many a sundry e place." 

' For not keeping them out. See the Also Soke of Curtasye, 1. 3G1-78, Eabees 

iutios of Prince Edward's Porters, a.d. Book &c., p. 310. — F. 

1474, in Honsrhold Ordinancrs, p. *30. ^ im in MS.— F. 
ind of Henrv VIlI.'s Porters, ibid. p. 239. 

kneel to the 

and ask his 
pardon for 
killing his 


The King 
asks their 

They tell 


" Avliatt be jour names ? " then sayd the ; 
472 " auon thai you tell mee." 

They sayd, "Adam Bell, Clim^ of the Clough, [page 396] 
and williara of Cloudeslee." 

He swears 

he'll hang 
them all, 

and orders 
their ai-rett. 

"be yee those theeues," 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 com^zanded 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 ffame liketh not mee. 

They pray 
him to let 
them go 
with tlie 

" 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 ffrom you passe ^ 

" with, such weapons as wee haue heere 
492 till wee be out of yo^tr place ; 
& iff wee Hue this 100? yeere, 
of you wee will aske noe grace." 

The King 
they shall 
be hanged. 

The Queen 
for them, 

"yee speake proudly e," said the King ; 
496 " yee shall be hanged all 3." 

" that were great pittye," sayd the Queene, 
" if any grace might bee. 

' MS. Clinn.— F. 

^ Insomuch as frele to j'ou we comen, 
As frel^ fro you to passp. — Bel. 



" my hord, when I came ffii'st into this Land 
500 to be your weded wiffe, 

[you said] the flBrst booue that I wold aske, 
you wold gi'ant me belyue. 

and asks the 
King for the 
boon he 

" & I asked yee neuer none till now ; 
504 therefore, good Jjoril, grant itt mee." 
" now aske itt, Madam," said the ^ing, 
" & granted itt shalbe," 

He says it 
shall be 

"then, good my Lore?, I you beseeche, 
508 these yeomen grant yee mee." 

" Mad dam, ^ yee might haue asked a boons 
that shold haue beene worth them all 3. 

"Then give 
me these 

" you might haue asked towers & townes, 
512 Parkas & fforrests plentye." 

" none soe pleasant to my pay,^ " shee sayd, 
" nor none ^ soe leefe ^ to mee." 

" Madam, sith itt is yo«r desire, 
516 joiir 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 vndertake ffor them 
that true men they shalbee. 

" I will, 

though I'd 
rather have 
given you 
3 market 

The Queen 

" but, good hord, speake some merrye word, 
524 that some comfort they might see." 

" I grant you grace," then said the King, 
" washe fFellowes, & to meate goe yee." 

then gets the 
King to 
order her 
men food. 

' MS. Maddan.— F. 
' vid. Page 363, St. 23 [of MS. ; in the 
2iid Part of John de Reeue]. — P. 

' nore in MS.— F. 

* leefe, dear, beloved. Johns'? — P. 



Soon come 

they liad not sitten but a while, 
528 certaine without Leasinge,^ 

there came 2 messengers out of the North 
With letters to our kinge. 


The King 
aslcs after 
his Justice 
and Sheriff. 
" They've 
been slain 

& when they came before the 
532 the kneeled downe vpon their knee, 
& said, " yowr officers greete you well 
of Carlile in the North cuntrye." 

" how ffareth my lustice ? " sayd the K:ing, 
536 " and my Sherriffe alsoe ? " 

" Sir, they be slaine, without leasinge, 
& many an officer moe." 

by Adam, 
Clim, and 

" who hath them slaine ? " then said the Km*/ 
540 " anon that you tell mee." 

" Adam Bell, Clim of the Cloughe, 
& william of Cloudeslee." 

"alas ! ffior wrath,^ " then sayd our Ki/tr/, 
544 " my hart is wonderous sore ; 

I had rather then a 1000^/ 
I had knowen this before. 

" If Id 
known this 
before, I"d 
have hung 

" ffiar I haue granted them grace, 
548 & that ffi3rthinketh ^ 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 

the 'King hee opened the letter anon, 
552 himselfe he read itt thoe, 

& there found how these outlawes had slaine 
300 men and moe : 

'i.e. Lying. Ji 

2 rewth.— ^('/. 

rnpcnts. — F. 



" fl&rst the lustice & the Slieriffe, 
556 & the Maior of Carlile towns, — 
of all the Constables and catcpoules, 
Aliue were left but one. 

(the Mayor, 

Lpagc ;jy7] 

" the BalifFes & the Beacleles both, 
560 & the Sargeaunt of the law, 
& 40 fforresters of the ffee, 

these ontlawes haue the slawe,' 


of Law, 
and 40 

" & broke his parkes, & slainc his deere, 
564 of all they Coice ^ the best ; 

soe penllous outlawes as they were, 
walked not by East nor west." 

Avhen the JLing this Letter had read, 
568 in hart he sighed sore, 

"take vp the tables,^ " then sayd hee, 
" ffor I can eate no more." 

the ILlng then called his best archers 
572 to the butts with him to goe, 

" to see* these ffellowes shoot," said hee, 
" that in the north haue wrought this woe." 

the ' archers busket ^ them blythe, 
576 soe did the Queenes alsoe, 

soe did those 3 weigh tye yconicn, 
they thought w/th them to goe. 

there 27 or 3"! they shott about 
580 for to assay their hand ; 

there was no shoote these yeomen shott 
that any prickc •* might stand. 

and his deer 

He sighs. 

and can eat 
no more. 

But he 
calls his 
to shoot 

the 3 

' slain.— P. 

^ Qii. chose. — P. 

^ They were laid on trestles. — P. 

i I wyll 8e.—R,l. 

^ busked; Scot, budkit, drcss'd, decked 

VOL. in. 

(a Fr. busc, a busk that weomen (so) 
wear). Gloss, ad G. Dougl see P. 364, 
St. 36, Pag. 246, St. 26.— P. 

* ? here the wooden pin in the centre 
of the target. — F. 



says the 

butts are too 

He sets 

2 hazel 
sticks at 400 

shoots, and 
splits one 
in two. 

Then he 
proposes to 
tie his son 
to a stake, 

then spake wilk'ani of Clondeslee, 
584 " by liim thai ffor me dyed, 
I hold him not a good archer 

timi 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." 

william went into the ffeild, 
592 & his 2 brethren wi'th him ; 

there they sett vp 2 liassell rodds 
400 paces betweene. 

" I hold him an archer," said Cloudeslee, 
596 " thai yonder wand cleeueth in towe," 
"heere is none such," said the 'Kincj, 
"for no man can soe doe." 

"I shall assay," sayd Cloudeslee, 
600 " or thai I fiPiirther goe." 

Cloudeslee with a bearing ^ arrow 
claue the wand in towe. 

"thou art the best archer," said our Kw^y, 
604 " fforsooth thai euer I see." 

" & yett ffor yo^tr loue," said william, 
" I will doe more masterye : 

" 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 thai bee here, — 

' ? meaning of bearing. Stratt says, 
" I rather think the poet meant an arrow 
shot ' compass,' for tlie 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 aiTows do that, this can be no ex- 
planation of either " mark of compass " 
(on which see my note on " pricks " in 
The Babees Book, cfx.) or " bearing." — F. 



" & lay an apple vpon liis head, 
612 & goe sixe score paces liim ffroc, 
& I my selfe With a broad arrrowe 
shall cleaue the apple in towe." 

and split an 
apple on his 
head at I'iU 

"now hast thee," said the Kinge ; 
616 " by him tJiat 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 that bee in heauen, 
I shall you hang all 3: ! " 

The King 
agrees ; 

but if 
falls, he's tc 
be hanged. 

and Adam 
and Clini 

" that I haue promised," said william, 
624 " that I will neuer £forsa':e : " 
& there euen before the Ktw^/, 
in the earth he droue a stake, 

& bound thereto his eldest sonne, 
628 & bade him stand still thereatt, 
& turned the childes'fFace him ffroe 
because hee should not start. 

ties liis boy 
to a stake, 

an apple vpon his head he sett, 
632 & then his bow he bent ; 

sLxe score paces they were mcateu,' 
& thither Cloudeslee went. 

puts an 
apple on his 

there he drew out a ffaire broad arrow,- 
636 his bowe ^ was great and long, — 
he sett that arrowc in his bowe 
that was both stiffo & stronge ; 

sets an 
arrow in 

his bow, 

mctcd, i.e. moasurtd. — P 

Tliure is a lag at the cud like s. — F. 



he prayed tlie people that were there 
G4() That they wold still stand,' 

" 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. 

thus Cloudeslye claue the aple in 2, 

and cleaves 

the apple in • i , 

two. 648 as many a man might see 

The King 

" now god fforffbidd,'^ " then said the KrHr/, 
" that thou sholdest shoote att mee ! 

gives him 
8d. a da J', 
and makes 
him his 

" I gaue ^ 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, 

" & lie giue thee 13? a day," said the Queene, 
056 "by god and by my ffay ! 

come ffeich thy payment when thou wilt, 
no man shall say thee nay. 

makes him a 

" william, I make thee a gentleman, 
660 of Cloathinge and of ffee ; 

& thy 2 bretheren, yeomen of my chamber, 
for they are louely "* to see. 

" yo?(r Sonne, fibr hee is tendar of age. 

puts his son 

cellar, 664 of my winesellar he shalbe ; 

& when hee comes to mans estate, 
better prefferred shall hee bee. 

' The .same injunction is often heard 
at firing-points now. — F. 
* Over Gods forbodo.— TTc/. 

give.— P. 

so semely. — Bel. 



" & will /(fin, bring me jour wifFe," said tlie Queene, 
668 "I long her sore to see ; 

shee shall bee my cheefe gentlewoman ' 
to gouerne my nursery e." 

the yeomen thanked them full curteouslye, 
672 & sayd, "to some Bishopp wee Avill wend ; 
of all the siuns iJiat wee haue done, 
to be assoyled'-^ att his hand." 

and promises 
to set his 

over her 

Tlie three 
go to a 

to be 

soe forth be gone these good yeomen 
676 as ffast as they can hye, 

& after came & lined w/th the K/^y/, 
& dyed good yeomen all 3. 

and then 


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 lieauen they may ncuer misse ! 


God send 
them and all 
bliss 1 

MS. gcntk'womian. — F. 

^ i.e. absolved, Assoile, absolvcre, 
liberare. Lye. — P. 


gomtcre t Cltiutieeilft : 

As the Cyclic poets adopted the lesser Homeric heroes as the 
centres of new epics, as the Eomancists in process of time cele- 
brated other members of the Eound Table besides its great 
founder, as the ballad-writers sung of Much and Scarlett as well 
as of Eobin Hood, so here one who appears as a minor character 
in the great poem of " Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and 
William of Cloudeslee," has a poem devoted to his special honour. 
The piece was printed in 1605 by James Eoberts, along with 
his reprint of Copland's edition of the greater poem of which 
this is a parasite. With this the P^olio copy has been collated. 

Listen, my 



to the brave 

of young 

■who loved a 
bonny lass. 



IjISTE : northeren Ladds, to blytlier things 
then yett were brought to hght, 

performed by our Countrymen 
in many ^ a ffray and ffight, 

of Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough, 

and William of Clowdeslee,^ 
who were in ffavor with the Kinge 

fFor all their miserye. 

younge william of the wine-sellar,'* 

when yeoman hee was made, 
gan ffoUowe then his fFathers stepps, 

hee loued a bonny mayde. 

" gods crosse ! " q«oth will/am, " if I misse, 

& may not of her speede, 
He make 1000 northerne ^ hartes*^ 

ffor verry woe to bleede. 

' List Northcrno Liiddes to blither 
things. — R. 
2 inicklc— R. 
=• Chnulisly.— R. 

* See the last poem, 1. 664, p. 100.—?. 

* Only half of the second n in the MS. 

° a thousand Northen hearts. — R. 



gone is lice ' a wooinge now, 

our Ladye will ^ him guide ; 
to merry mansfeild, will,-' I trow, 
20 a time hee will abyde. 

" Soone dop * the dore, ffaire Sislye bright,^ 

I come with, all the hast ; 
I am come a wooinge to ^ thee for loue, 
24 heere am I come att Last." 

He goes 

to Mansfield, 

and tells fair 
Sisely to 
open the 

" I know you not," q?(oth Sisely ^ tho, 

" from whence that yee be come ^ ; 
my loue you may not haue, I trow, 
28 I vow by this ffaire ^ sonne.^° 

" 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 loae 

in all his pryde and glee ; 
If there were thousands, none but him 
36 my hart wold ioye to see." 

[page 399] 

Sisely says 

she can't 
love him, 

as her love 
is fixed on 

whom she 
hopes to see 


" gods cursse vppon [him,] !• " younge will/am sayd, Young 


" before me that hath sped ! curses him, 

a ffoule ill on the carryon nursse 
that ffirst did binde his head ! " 

gan wiWiam tho for to prepare 
a medcine ffor the chaffe '^ ; 
" his liffc," q((oth hee, " ffull hard may ffarc ; 
44 hecs best to keepe alaffe." 

and resolves 
to kill her 

' he is.— R. 2 ^vell._E. 

' whore. — R. 

* dope, i.e. do open. — P. 

* Some dop the dore faire Cicelie 
bright.— R. 

* (o omitted.— R. ' Cicelio.— R. 

* MS. become. — F. bee come. — R. 

" Jfaure witli a dot over tho u in the 
MS.— F. 
'" sun.- P. » him.— R, 

"^ ? for chuffe, a term of reproach, 
Halliwell. See Lorden, 1. 71.— F. medi- 
cine for that chaffe. — R. 



He draws 
his sword, 


he drew tlicn out liis bright bi-owne sword, 
w7(/ch was soe bright and Iceene ; 

a stouter man & hardyer 

neere handled sword, I weene. 

and by way 
of trying it, 

" browne tempered Sword & worthye ^ blade, 

vnto thy master showe, 
if thou 2 to tryall thou be put, 
52 how thou canst ■* byde a blowe." 

cuts in two 
an oak 

56 inches 

younge Wilb'am to an oke gan hye 
wJdch was in compasse round 

well 56 * inches nye, 

& field itt to the e'round. 

wishing it 
was liis rival. 

" soe mote he ffare," quoth wilh'am the, 

" that fibr her loue hath Layde 
vfliicli I haue loued, & neere did know 
60 him sutor till that mayde. 

He long^s 
for his 

" & now, deere fiather stout & stronge, 

william of Cloudeslee, 
how happy were thy troubled sonne 
64 if here I might ^ thee see. 

and Clim, 

as they'd 
fight 1000 

" & thy 2 6 brethren Adam Bell 

& Clim of the Cloughe ; 
against a 1000 men & more 
68 wee 4 wold bee enoughe. 

He calls on 
Siscly's lover 
to come on, 

" growne itt is ffull 4 a clocke, 
& night will come beliue ; 

Come on, thou Lorden, sisleys ^ loue ! 
this niffht I must ^ thee shriue. 

' strong, and -worthy. — R. 

2 that.— P. now.— R. 

' eanst thou. — R. 

■• Read " six and fifty." — ¥. six and 

fifty.— -R. 
* mot.— R. 
' Lurden Cislcis. — R. 
» must I.— R. 

« too.— R. 


*' prepare thee strong, tliou ffowle black calfe ' ! 

what ere tliou. be, I Aveene 
lie glue thy coxcombe sayke ^ a girde ^ 
7G in mansfeiild as was'' seene." 

will/am a young fFawne Lad slaine and takes 

"^ ° a fawn 

in ^ slierwood merry fForrest ; 
a ffairer ffawne fFor mans meate ** 
80 in slierwood was neuer drest. 

liee liyed tlien till a nortlieren Lasse ^ to an oia 


not lialfe a mile liim fFroe,^ 
be said, " dop the dore,^ thou good ould nursse, 
84 thai in to thee I goe ; 

" I fFaint With being in the woods ^^ ; 

loe, heere I haue a kidd 

which. I haue slaine IFor thee & mee '^ ; 

88 come, dresse itt then, I bidd ; to cook for 


" ffeitch bread and other lolly IFare, 

whereof thou hast some store ; 
a blyther guest this 100 yeere 
92 came neuer heere before." 

the good old naunt '^ gan hye apace The old 

to lett young Wilb'am in ; lets him in, 

" a happy nursse," q«oth willann then, 
96 " as can be lightlye seene. 

' frnv likck Caufe. — R. ■• Mansfield as neuer was. — E. 

2 In what district is sayke used for * MS. ira. — F. " ynieat. — R. 

such? In Sunieraetsliire, ji/ch is tlie ' Northcrne lasse. — R. 

word. Ilalliwcll, p. xxvii., xxviii. In * ho fro. — li. 

Lancasliiro, .sick (]I. xxiii.), but at Bury ' dop dore. — R. '" wood.~R. 

sitc/i (//*.) ; and in Gloucestershire siich " slo for thl'p and I. — R. 

(11. xviii.) ''^ Nant.- R. 

» a gird.— R. 



and he 
her a reward 


" wend till tliai house liard by," q?(oth hee, 
" iliai^ made of lime and stone, 

where is a Lasse, fFaire Cis," hey ' said,* 
" I loue her as my owne. 

if she'll fetch 
Sisely to 


" If thou canst fifeitch her vnto me 
thai wee may merry bee, 

I make a vowe, in the fforrest 
of deere thou shalt haue ffee." 

She under- 
to bring 

" rest then, fFaire S/r," the woman said, 

" I sweare by good S! lohn 
I will bring to you thai same maid 
108 ffull quicklye and anon," 

" meane [time],^ " qwoth Wilhai??, " He be Cooke, 

to see the ffawne well drest"* : " 
a stouter Cooke did neuer come 
1 12 Within the ffaire fforrest. 

and hies off 
to her, 

thicke ^ blyth old lasse had witt enoughe ^ 

ffor to declare his mind ; 
soe ffast shee hyed, & neere did stay, 
116 but left william behinde, 

cooks the 

where wWiiam like a nimble cooke 

is dressing of the ffare, 
& ffor this damsell doth hee looke, 
120 "I wold thai shee weer heere ! " 

[page 400] 

' [insert] he.— P. The MS. is Cishey, 
for Cis he, or, more probably, Cislcy. — F. 

2 Ci.'Jse hee said. — R. 

^ meane time. — P. meane time.— R. 

< I drost.— R. 

5 ? the district of thicke for that. In 
Dorsetshire thik is used. See Ilalli- 

■well's Gloss, p. xvi., and Barnes's Glos- 
sary. Thickee, this, Devon, and ihicca 
cloud, p. XV. Halliwell. Thick, the one 
that, that which, .Somersetshire. Thee's 
know thick us da meanne, tha da call 'm 
wold Boss {ib. p. xxvii. col. 1). — F. 
® enow. — R. 



"god speed, blyth Cisley ^ ! " q?(oth that old Lasse. 

" god dild ^ yee," q?(otli Cisley, " againe ; 
how doe yee, naunt lone ^ ? " shee said, 
124 " tell nic itt, I am ffaine." 

the good old woman* said " weele shee was, 

& comen an arrand to ^ you ; 
for you must to my cottage gone 
128 fFull quickley,^ 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?foth Cisley tho, 

" if with you that ^ I doe not hye ! 
I neuer ioyed more, IForsoothe, 
130 then in yo?ir Companye." 

happy the good wifFe thought her selfe 

that of her purpose shee had sped,^ 
& home with Sisley shee is came,^ 
140 soe lightlye they did tread ^^ ; 

& coming in, here wilhVoii soone 

had made readye his ffare ; 
the good old wiife did wonder much 
144 soe soone as shee came there. 

The old 

tells Sisely 

she must 
come and 

make merry 
in her 

Sisely gladly 
agrees to go, 

and into the 
cottage they 

William has 
his venison 

Cisley to wilhVoji now is gone," 

god send her Mickle glee, 
yett was shee in a maze, god wott, 
148 when shee saw itt was hee. 

and Sisely 
with him. 

1 Cissp.— R. 

' yield it. — F. requite, speed : 
God dild you ! " says Ophelia, 
act iv. sc. !). — Dj'ce. 

^ done you Nant lono. — R. 

* lone.— R. 

" till.— R. « qiick.— R. 

"Well, ' that omitted.— R. 

Hamlet, * that her purpose he had of sped. — R. 

" she doth come. — R. 
'» did they read.— R. 
" come. — R. 



But she says 
she'd never 
have come if 
she'd known 
he was there. 


prays her to 
stop and eat 

and his 
loving words 
win her 




a noble- 

"liad I beene ware, good S/r," sliee said, 

" of thai itt bad beene jou, 
I wold bane stayd att liome in sootb, 
152 I tell you veriy true." 

"faire Cisley," said tben ^ wilb'«Hi Kind, 

" misdeeme tbee not of mee ; 
I sent not fFor tbee to if Art t ^ end 
156 to doe tbe iniurye. 

" sitt downe that wee may talke awbile, 

& eate all of tbe best, 
the ffattest kidd thai euer was slaine 
160 in merry Sherwood fforrest.^ " 

his louinge ■* words wan Cisley then 

with him to keepe ^ a while ; 
but in tbe meane time Cisleys loue 
164 of her was tho beguile. 

a stout & sturdy man bee was 

of qualitye & kind, 
& kuowen ^ through all the north cuntrye 
168 to beare a noble minde. 

comes to her 
cottage ; 

but she is 

"but," q?(oth'' wilb'rt'H?, " doe I care ? 

if //;(/t bee meane to weare, 
first lett * him winne,^ else neuer shall 
172 be haue the mayd, I s weare." 

fiull softlye is her loiie[r] '^ come, 

and knocked att the dore : 
but tho ^^ he mist Cisleys companye,'^ 
176 wher-att bee stampt and '^ swore. 

' then said. — R. 

2 to the.— E. 

* Sir- wood Forrest. — R. 

* Only half the n in the MS.— F. 

* to keope with him. — R. 
•^ knownp. — R. 

' 15 lit wliat quoth.— R. 

' There appears to be some letter 
between the c and t in the MS. — F. let. 
— R. 

" wime in the MS. — F. 
'» loner.— R. " i.e. then.— P. 

'^ roonie. — R. 
'•' Only half the n in tho MS.— F. 




"a mischeeffe on liis heart," quuili lice, 
" that hatli allured this ' mayd 

to bee w/th him in company ! " 
he cared not what hee sayd, 

He curKea 
her beguiler, 

hee was soe ^ w/th aiiger nioucd, 

he sware a well great othe, 
" dcere sliold hee pay if I him knew, 
184 fforsooth & by my trothe ! " 

gone hee is to ffind her out, 

not knoAving 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. 

will/om purchased ^ 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,'* 
a Candle lig-ht a ffurlono^ of ^ 
fi'ull quickley hee espyed. 

then to the house hee hyed him ffast, 

Avhere quicklye hee gan hearc 
the voice of his owne true loue ^ 
200 a makingc bonny chcere. 




then gan he say to Cisley tho, 

" Cisley, come away ! 
I haue beene wandring thee to ffind 
204 since shutting in of day." 

He calls her 
to conic to 

the— R. 
yso. — R. 
purchast. — R. 

' wide— R. 

» off— R. 

' owne docre triio loue.— E. 



asks who 
dares do this. 


" who calls ffaire Cisley ' ? " quoth will/am tlio,'^ 

" what carle dares be soe bold, 
once to aduenture to her to speake 

who [I] haue in my hold ^ ? " 

The lover 

" List thee, ifaire Sir," q«oth Cisley s loue, 

" lett quickelye her fFrom you part : 
ffor all jour Lordlye words, Tie sweare ■* 
212 He haue her, or lie make you ^ smart ! " 

William sayE 

young Wilb"«m to his bright browne sword 

gan quickelye then to take : 
" because thou soe doest challenge me, 
216 He make thy kingdome quake. 

fight for his 

" 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 loue, 

" shine more vpon my head, 
If I doe fflye, by heauen aboue, 
224 wert thou a gyant bredd ! " 

He takes his 

and the fight 


It lasts two 


to Bilbo blade got willmm tho 

tJiat was both stiffe and stronge ^ : 
a stout battell then they fibught, 
228 weer neere 2 ^ houres longe ; 

where many a greiuous wound was giucn ' 

to eche on either jiart, 
till both the champyons then were droue 

almost quite out of hart. 

' Cisse.— K, 

2 then.— R. 

* wliom I haiic now in liold. 

■* I swoare. — IL 

* or make j'ou. — R. 

* and buckler stiffo. — R. 
' well nio two. — R. 

* giue. — R. 



pittyous moane ffaii'e Cisley made, 

tliai all the fforrest ronge ; 
the greiuous shrikes made such a noysc, 
236 shee had soe shrill a tounge. 

att last came in the keepers 3 

With bowes and arrowes keenc, 
where they lett flye among these 2, 
240 a 100? > as I weene. 



all the 

Then three 
come to stop 

willmm strong & stout ^ in hart, 

when he had them espycd, 
sett on courage ffor his pa>*t, 
244 among the thickest hee hyed. 

but William 

the cheefe ranger of the woods 

att ffirst did william smite, 
where att one blow he smote his head 
248 iFrom of his shoulders quite. 

cuts off tho 

& 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 

great moane was then ^ made ; 

the like was neuer hard, 
vfhich. made the people all around 
256 to crye, they were soe ffeard. 

The people 
make great 

"arme, arme ! " the cuntrye cryed, 

" for gods loue quickly c hye ! " 
neuer was such a slaughter scene 
260 in all the north countrye. 

and raise ti.e 

' .an bundred.— R. 

* stout and stronrr.— R. 

' jthcr.— R. 



William kills 
the other two 


wilh'rtm still, tho • wounded sore, 
continued still his ^ ffight 

till he had slaine them all 4 
that verry winters ^ night. 

all the contrye then was raysed, 

the traitor fFor to take 
tliai fFor the loue of Cisley ffaire 
268 had all the slaughter make. 

and then 


to a cave 

with Siscly. 

to the woods hyed william tho, — ■ 

itt was the best* of all his play,- 
where in a oaue with Cisley ffaire 
272 hee lined many a day. 

mation is 
marie to take 


proclamation then was sent [page 402] 

the cuntrye all aronnde, 
' the LorcZ of Mansfeild shold hee bee 

that ffirst the traytor ffounde,' 

to ^ the court these tydings came, 

where all men doth ^ bewayle 
the young & lustye Willmm 
280 w/h'cIi soe had made them quaile. 

His father, hyed vp william of Cloudeslee ^ 

Adam, and & lustye Adam Bell, 

ciim, & ffamous Clim of the Cloughe, 

284 w/;(ch 3 did them ® excell : 

go to the 

and ask 
mercy for 

to the ILing they hyed them ffast, 

ffull quicklye & anon, 
" mercye, I pray," qztotli old willut?», 
288 " ffor william my sonne ! " 

' Will still thoiigli.— 1{. 

^ in his. — E. ^ winter. — R 

* twas best— R. ^ Till.— R. 

" did.— R. 

' Hied vp then AVilliam, Cloudeslcy. 
— R. « then did.-R. 



" no mercye, traitors ! " q?<otli the Kwr;, 

" you shall be hanged all 4 ! ^ 
vnder my nose this plott yea haue ^ laid, 
292 to bring to passe before." 

" Insooth," bespake then Adam Bell, 

" ill signe j02ir grace hath scene 
of any such com)»otyon 
296 since with, you wee haue beene. 

" If then wee can no mercye haue, 

but leese both liffe and goods, 
of yo^fr good gi'ace wee take our leaue, 
300 & hye vs to the woods." 

" arme, arme," then qiwih the K«?gr, 

" my merry men euer-eche one,^ 
ffull ffast againe these rebells nowe * 
.304 [that] ^ vnto the woods are gone ! " 

" O, woe is vs ! what shall wee doe, 

or w/ii'ch way shall wee worke, 
to hunt them fforth out of the woods, 
308 Boe traiterouslye there that lurke ? 

"list you," qwoth a counsellor graue, 

a wise man he seemed, 
" the craued the Krnr/ his pardon ffreo 
312 vnto them to haue deemed." 

The King 
says he'll 
hang all four 
of them. 

Adam then 

they'll take 
to the woods. 

The Kins 
oi'ders his 
men to arm 
and pursue 
the rebels. 

The men 
don't like the 

A counsellor 
advises that 
the rebels bo 

" gods ffoi'bott^ ! " qH'^th the Kjing, 

" I neuer itt will doe ! 
for they shall hang, eche mothers sonnc, 
316 I tell you vcrry true ! ^ " 

The King 
he'll hang 

' liang'd slmll ypo be all fouro. — E. 

' haue you. — R. 

' cuery choue. — R. 

* now. — R. * that omitted. — R. 

' {orehodo,Pr<eceptiim. Chauc. Godde.s 


forebode to breke, dei prfpccptum viok(re. 
Lye. — P. See vol. i. p. 18, note '. "prick 
bim godsforbod." Hcywood's Ejn- 
grammes, 236. — F. forbod. — R. 
' fairo sir I tell you tnie. — R. 



and sends 
50,000 men 
after them, 

Bomc of 
whom go to 
the woods. 

But Adam 
and Clim go 
on killing 
the King's 

Then the 



" they are 

fine fellows. 

50000 men were charged 
after tliem ffor to take ; 
some of them sett in sundrye towncs, 
320 in companyes ^ did waite ; 

to the woods gan some to goe, 

in hope to fl&nd them out ; 
& them perforce they thaught to take, 
324 if that they might fi&nd them out. 

to they woods still they ^ came, 

dispatched still they were, 
w/u'ch made ffull many a trembling hart ' 
328 & many a man in ifeare. 

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 'Kimj, 

" such men were neuer knowne ; 
they are they ■* stoutest harted men 
336 that raanhood euer shone ' ! 

Make out 



" come, my secretary good, 
& cause ^ to be declared 
a generall pai-don to them all, 
340 -which neuer shalbe discared. 

and give 
them good 
if they'll 
come and 
live with 

" linings plenty they shall haue '^ 

of gold & eke of ffee. 
If they did ^ as they did before, 
344 come Hue in court with mee." 

' compamyes in the MS.- 
2 still as they. — R. 
» heart.— R. 
* tho.— R. 


showne. — R. 

MS. caused. — F. cause. — P. 
Liuing plenty shall they haue. — R. 
they will do.— P. they will.— R. 




soddenlye went ffortli tlie newes 
declared by trumpetts sound, 

wlierof these 3 were well advised 
in caiie as they were in ground. 

The three 
liear of this. 

"but list you, Sirs," quoth, willmm younge, but young 

" I dare not trust the Kinge ; [page 403] OoubtTthe 

itt is some ffeitch is in bis bead, '"^' 
352 wberby to bring vs in. 

"nay, stay wee beere, or ffirst lett mee 

a messenger bee sent 
vnto the Court, where I may know 
356 bis 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 cominando, 
360 & neuer will we cease ; 


" but if that still wee shall be vrged, 

& called by traitors ^ name, 
& threated hanging for euery thing, 
364 his hignesse is too blame. 

" neare ^ had his grace subiects more true ^ 

& sturdyer then wee, 
w7;/ch are att his hignesse will, 
3C8 god send him well to bee ! " 

soe to the court is young willmm gone 

to parley with, the Kinge, 
where * all men to the Kings presence 
372 did striue for to him brinn^e.* 

paying that 

the King 

never had 





goes to the 

' traitrous. — R. 

^ ne'er. — P. 

^ mora subjects true. — R. 

Which,— R. 
him for to bring.- 



kneels to 


when liee before the Kwir/ was come, 
he kneeled downe fTull lowe ; 

he showed qnicklye to the Kinge 
what duty they did owe. 

and soon 
wins him 

in such deliglitffull order blythe, 
the 'King was quicklye woon ^ 
to comfort them in their request, 
330 as hee before had done. 

The King 

aslcs him 
to stay the 
night at 

" ffeitcli bread & drinke," then said his grace, 

" & meate all of the best ; 
& stay all night heere att the court, 
384 & soundlye take thy rest." 

and gives 
him his seal 
in token of 

" gramercy ^ to jour grace," said will : 

"for pa?-don granted, I see." 
" for signe thereof, heere take my scale, 
388 & for more certaintye." 

" gods cursse vpon me," said wilLxtm, 

" for my part if I meane 
Euer againe to stirr vp striffe ! 
392 itt neuer shalbe scene." 

The Lords 
and Ladies 

the ITobles all to Wilh'am 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 

" ffaire Cisley now I haue to wiffe, 

in ffeild I haue her woone.^ " 
"bring her, for gods loxxe," said the "* all, 
400 " welcome shee shall bee soone.* " 

wonnt.— R. 
* Gramercies.— R. 
' ■wonne. — R. 

♦ they.— R. 

* full welcome shall she be. — R. 




forth againe went will/a7)i backe, 
to woode that lice did hye, 

& to liis fiatlier there hee shewed 
the King his pardon flfree. 

He goes 
and shows 
his father 
the King's 

" health to his grace," said Adam Bell, 

" I begg itt on my knee." 
the like said Clim of the Clonghe 
408 & wilh'am of Cloudeslee. 

to the court they all prepare 

as flfast as ^ they can hye, 
where gracyouslye they were receiued 
412 With mirth and merry glee. 

Cisley ffaire is gone ^ alone 

vpon a gelding ffayre ; 
a pj'operer ^ damsell nener came 
416 in any courtlye ayre. 

" welcome, Cisley ! " sayd the Queene, 

" & Lady I thee make, 
to waite vpon my owne person 
420 in all my cheefe estate."* " 

soe quicklye was the ^ matter done 
w/iich was soe hardlye doubted, 
that all contentions after that 
424 from court were quicklye rooted. <* 

fauorable was the kinge, 

for good 7 they did him IHnd ; 
They ncuer after ffbught againe ** [page 404] 
428 to vex his royall mindc. 

Then all of 
come to 

with Sisely 
on a good 

The Queen 
her and 
makes her a 
Lady in 

And so all 
the trouble 
is happily 

' euen as fast as. 

* weiid. — R. 

^ proprer. — R. 

* cliiefust sUito. — R 


* tlli8.— R. 

" rowted. — R. 

' so good. — R. 

* The nouer aftei' soiiglit againo. — R. 



and our 

never after 

troubled the 

King. 432 

long time ' tliey lined in court 
soe neere vnto the Kinge, 

that neuer after attempted - was 
offred fFor any tliinge. 

May God 

prevent men 


god aboue, gitie all men grace, 

in quiett fFor to line, 
& not rebelliouslye abroad 

their princes fFor to greene ! 

in hope of 


let not the hope of pardon moue 

a snbiect to attempt 
liis soneraignes anger, or his lone, 
440 fFrom him for to exempt ; 

and make 

all serve God 

and the , , , 

King. 444 

bnt thai all men may readye bee 
With all their maine and might 

to serne the lord, & lone the Kinge, 
in honor day and night. 


' MS. tine. — F. Long time they.— E. 

* ? 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 ; liut lias this title, Adam Bell, Clim of the Clovgh, and William 
Cloudesle. Lond. 1605. 9 leaves. Eegister A, C 2. Part II., 7 leaves. Eegister 
A 2, B 4. 

There are two copies in Eodley, 4° C. 39, Art. Seld. ; Malone, 299.— G. Parker.] 

[ " Come Wanton Wenches,''^ printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, 
jj. 80-1, follows here in the MS. p. 404.] 


h\ oltre : timesf padte : ^ 

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 Youug-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." 

' All Old Song iu Praise of Ardiory.— P. and tlio good old times.— R 


This is a change from Eobert 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 Jjurghe kynde of herte by. 

A forbyseyn ys tolde ]f>ys, 

Seyde on Frenshe men and on Englys ; 

Frenche men synne yn lechery. 

And Englys men yn enuye. 

Handlyng 8ynnc, 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 1N : old timss past when merry nieu [page 405] 

old days 

lived did merry makers ^ make, 

no man did greater matters then 
Lancelot 4 'Ci\(m. Lancelott of Dulake. 

du Lake, 

KobinHood, good Robin liood^ was liui[n]ge then, 

w/w'cli now is quite fforgott, 
^ayd ^ goe Avas ffaire Mayd Marryan, 

Marry an, •' •' 

8 a pretty wench, god wott. 
aowdesie'^e! wilU'am of Cloudeslee did dwell 

amongst the buckes & does, 
ciim of the Clim of the Cloughe & Adarn Bell 

Clough, and _ _ 

Adam Bell. 12 killed venison With, their bowes. 

pi«' jolly throiiffhe the wood these lollye bowmen went, 

bowmen <-' •' ' 

i^^nte'i' both ouer hill & dale, & dale & dale, 

vp & downe, vpp & downe, 
16 through many a parke & pale : H : H : 

' ? MS. malccrs may be altered to in the M.S.— F. 
matters. — F. ^ There is a tag to the d. — F. 

'^ The first two lines are written as one 





Tlie Maydens on tlie holydayes 

did countrey carrolls singe, 
& some did passe the time away 

wt'tli dancinge fibr the ringc. 
yea 20 groatos was mony then 

wold make men make good cheere, 
& 20 nobles gentlemen 

might line on all the yeere. 

Wilh'am of Cloudeslee did dwell, &c. 

the maidens 
sang carols 

and danced, 

20 groats 
would make 
a feast, 

Then were there playes att w^hitsontyde,^ 

& som7»er games about ; 
then fFreind wj'th ffreind wold goe & ryde 
28 to drine the som7»er out ; 

& after merry sommer time, 
then winter time came in ; 
then were as merry matters done 
32 when Christmas did begin. ^ 
William, &c. 

and summer 
games were 

Winter was 

at Christmas 



Then did they chant itt merrilye 

w/th hunting in the wood, 
wherin they hound [s] mad such a crye 

as did the hearers good ; 
the hunters with their hunting homes 

did cause the woods to ringe : 
to see them pricke amongst the thornes, 

itt weere pastime ffor a kinge. 
William, &c. 

Then was it 
merry too in 

with cry of 

and huntcis' 

S/r Lancelott dulakc, a-dew ! 

thou was a worthy Knight ; 
& eke maid Marryan sure & trew, 
44 good Robin Hoods delight. 

But now ! 



and Marian, 

' See Strutt and Er;ind on tho Whit- 
son-alos &c. Strutt quotes Sir Bcvis: 
In Bomor at Wliitsontyde, 

When knightes most on liorsebacko 

ride, &c. — F. 
- MS. begini. — F. 




Clim and 

The world 

turned to 



willmm of Cloudeslee, ffarewell, 

witli thy companyons old, 
Clim of the Clough, & Adam Bell, 

three bowemen braue & bold ! ' 
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 

Sure, the 
old time 
was best. 

May God 
send us 
good bow- 
men again I 





More sparinge for a pennye nowe 

then then was for a pound ; 
rich men, alas, they know not how 

to keepe ne hawke nor hound, 
all merriments are quite fforgott, 

& bowes are laid aside ; 
all is to litle now, god wott, 

to maintaine wordlye pryde. 
where I began, there will I end, 

the old time sure was best ; 
vnless thai misers quicklye mend, 

old mirth may take his rest, 
pray wee then good bowmen may rise, 

as hath beene here to-ffore, 

to-ffore, to-ffore, 
to mamtaine, to Maintaine, 

& make our mirth the more, 

the more, the more. ffinis. 

' Should " William, &c.," he repeated 
here, and the next four lines belong to 
the next stanza ? Or are four linos 
■wanting after 1. 52, and the last two 

stanzas in reality one of sixteen lines, 
counting tlie repeats to-ffore, the more 
with the linos preceding them? — Skcat. 


This song was printed Ly Percy in Lis 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 begfjars — who swarmed 
over the country on the dissolution of the monasteries — to excite 
their hearers' pity and get alms. They were called Bedlam 
Beggavb; and are mentioned by Edgar in " King Lear "; 

The country gives mo proof and precedent 
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices, 
Stick in their numb'd and mortify'd hare arms 
Pins, wooden pricks, nrils, sprigs of rosemary ; 
And, with this horinble object, from low farms, 
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills, 
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with i:)rayer, 
Inforce their charity. 

In Dekker's Bellman of London, l(51(i, all the difTercnt species of 
beggars are enumerated. Amongst the rest are mentioned Tom of 
Bedlam's band of mad caps, otherwise called Poor Tom's flock of wild 
geese . . and those wild geese, or hair brains, are called Abraham men. 
An Abraham man is afterwards described in this manner : " Of all 

' That common old song of Mad-torn. Collated with a copy in a 12° collection of 
songs printed by Borcman, 1735.— P. 


the mad rascals (tliat are of this wing), the Ahraltam man is the 
most fantastick. The fellow (quoth this old Lady of the Latke unto 
me), that sate half naked (at table to-day) from the girdle upward, 
is the best Abraham vian 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, ciies out. Poor Tom is a cold. . . . 
(Mr. Payne Collier's note to Dodsley's Collection of Old Flays, 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 To')n 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. — P. 

£ FORTH : ffrom my sadd & darksome ^ cell, 
romefback ffi'om ^ the deepe abisse of hell, 

madd Tom is come into ^ the world againe 
4 to see if hee can ease ^ his distempered braine. 

From hell 
mad Tom 

to the world. 

He hears 
the Furies 

fieare & dispayre pui'sue ^ my soule ! 
harke how the angry ifuryes howle ! 
**°^^'^ ' Pluto laughes, proserepine ^ is gladd 

8 to see poore naked Tom of Bedlam madd. 

' dark and dismal.— P. ^ Fears and cures oppress &c.— P. 

^ Or from. — P. There is a flourish like an s to the e of 

' to view. — P. •* cure. — P. inirsuc. — F. * & Proserpn<-. — P. 



through woods ^ I -wander night and day 

to seeke ^ my stragling sences ; 
In an angrye mood I ffonnd out time ' 
12 -With his Pentarchye * of tenses. 

when mee he spyes, away hee iByes ; 

time ^ will stay ffor no man ; 
In vaine with cryes hee rends ^ the skyes, 
16 pittj ^ is not com)»on. 

Cold & comfortlesse I lye.^ 
helpe,^ oh helpe ! or else I dye. 

harke ! I heere Appolloes teeme, 
20 the Carman 'gins to whistle ; 
Chast Dyana bends her browe,''^ 
'^ the bore begins to bristle. 

Come, vulcan, with, tooles & wt'th takells,'^ 
24 & knocke of my troublesome shakells I 
bid Charles make ready his waine 
to flfeitch my ffiue sences ^^ againe. 

Last night I heard the dogstar barke, 
28 Mars mett venus in the darke ; 

Limping vulcan heates ^'^ an Iron barr, 
& ffuryouslye runs '^ att the god of warr. 

Mars with, his weapons '^ layd about, 
32 but vulcans temples had ^^ they gout, 

iFor his broad homes did hang soe in '^ his light 
that hee cold not see to aime arrierht.'^ 

he wanders 
seeking his 

He lies 

knocks off 
shackles ! 

He hears the 



he sees 
Vulcan and 
Mars fight, 

the world. — P. 

find.— P. 

I met old Time.— P. 

pentateuch. — P. 

For time. — P. 

I rend, qu. — P. I rent. — lid. 

For pity. — ^P. 

I be.— P. 

Help, help &c.— F. 

bowe. — P. 

" And.— P. 

'- tackle, qu. — P. 

" Cp. "Bless thy five wits." Khig Lear, 
iii. 4. — Dyce. To bring mo my senses &c. 

■' heat.— P. het.—Rel. 

"* made. — P. '« weapon. — P. 

" limping V: had got. — P. 

'" his broad horns did so hang in. — P. 

"• aim his blows aright. — 1". 




burst with 

Mercuiye, the nimble post of heauen, 
36 staycl to see this quain^elh' 

gorreld-bellyed Bacchus, gyant-like 
bestrjds a strong beere barrell : 


Poor Tom is 
very dry. 
Give him 

to me he dranke, [I did him thanke, 
40 but I cold gett noe Cyder ; 

hee dranke] ^ whole butts till hee burst his gutts ; 
but mine Avere neere the wyder. 

poore naked Tom is verry ^ drye ; 
44 a litle drinke, ffor charity e ! 

He hears 

hearke ! I heare Acteons hounds.* 

the huntsmen woopp and hallowe ; 
Ringwood, Royster,^ Bowman, lowler, 
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 ^ beeffe, turnipp & Carrett ; 
''' a cup of old Maligo ® sacke 
52 will fBre the bush att his backe. 


' Stood still . . . the q[ — P. 

^ The words included in these 
brackets are omitted in the printed 
copies. — P. 

' Pore torn is very. — P. 

•* home. — Ed. 

° Rockwood, Jowler, Bowman.— P. 

^ salted. See Babccs Book Index. — P. 

' but.— P. 

* of malaRa. — P. 

1 tf-f 

iHarke more ffoole: 

More here is probably a corruption of Morio (a word con- 
nected with the Grreek fMcopos), " homo," says Facciolati, " qui 
naturali stoliditate et stultitia risum excitat." " Quidam," says 
Augustine in his 26th epistle, " tantffi sunt fatuitatis ut non 
multum a pecoribus differant; quos moriones vulgo vocant." 
With regard to its use here of the cap-and-belled fool of the 
sixteenth century, compare the following epigram of Martial 
(viii. 13) : 

Morio dictiis erat ; viginti millibus cmi ; 
Eedde mihi nximmos, 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. WTio 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 ^ I went, 
a history there I chanced ^ to reede ; 
when as Salamon raigned Ki««7, When 


4 ho did many a worthie deedo, was King 

' whereas. — P. ^ MS. changed. — F. 



it was 
felony not 
to restore to 
the owner 

goods found. 

& many statutes liee caused to be made ; 

& this was one ^ amongst the rest plaine,^ 
" itt was ffeloniy to any one that found ought was 

& wold not restore itt to the owner asjaine." 

lost his 
purse with 
100/. in it, 

and offered 
20Z. for its 



Soe then there was a rich Merchant, 

as he rode to a markett towne, 
itt was his chance to lose his pursse ; 

he said there was in itt a 100''. 
a proclamation he caused to be made, 

" whosoeuer cold find the same againe, 
shold giue itt him againe without all doubt, 

& hee shold have fFor 20\' his paine." 

A poor man 

finds the 

but doesn't 
the gold. 



Soe then there was a silly poore man [page 407 ] 

had 2 sheepes pells vpon his backe to sell, 
& going to the Markett towne 

hee fibund the pui'sse, & 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 ; 

fibr why, there was nothing in it but gold. 

The mer- 

accuses him 
of finding 
the purse. 

He says he 
has it, and 
will restore 
it for the 20/. 



The rich man hee pursued him soone,^ 
"thou horeson villaine," quoth, he then, 

" I thinke itt is thou that has found my pursse, 
& wilt thou not giue itt me againe ? " 

" good S/r," sayd hee, " I ffound such a pursse ; 
the truth ffull soone itt shall be knowne ; 

you shall haue itt againe, its neuer the worse, 
but j^ay me my safteye ■* that is mine owne." 

' MS. ome.— F. 

^ among thorn plain. — P. 

' el'tboon.— P. 

* I don't find this word elsewhere in 
the same sense. — F. 



" Let me see wliats in tlie pursse," said the Merchant; 

" Found thou a lOOl' and no more ? 
thou horeson villaine ! thou hast paid thy-selfe ; 
36 for in my pursse was ffuU sixe score. 
itts best my pursse to me thou restore, 

or before the Kdng thou shalt be brought." 
" I warrant," quoth, hee, " when I come the 'King 
40 heele not reward me againe w/th nought." 

Then they Ledd him towards the Kinge, 

& as they led him on the way, 
& there mett him a gallant K.mght, 
44 & With him was his Ladye gay. 

wrth tugging & lugging this pore man, 

his lether sckins ^ began to cracke ; 
the gelding was wanton they Ladye rode on, 
48 & thi'ew her downe beside his backe. 

The mer- 
chant says 

he had UOl. 
iu his purse, 

and he'll 
take the 
poor man 
before the 

On their 
road to the 

a knight 
and his lady 
meet them. 

The poor 
man's sheep- 
skins crack, 

the lady's 
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 'K.night wold needs \qion ^ him haue beene. 

"nay," sayd the Merchant, "I pray you. Sir, 
I haue a actyon against him alreadye ; 
56 he shalbe^ brought to the King, & hangd this 

Then they Ledd him towards the King, 

but the poreman liked not their Leading well ; 
& coming neere to the sea side, 
GO he thought to be drowned or sane him selfc. 

on to a stub, 
and puts out 
one of her 

The knight 
wants to 
punish the 
poor man. 

He is afraid. 

and to save 

' skins. — P. 

* Cp. oiir " I'll be down upon you." 


' There is a 5 followed by a letter 
blotted out, after be. — F. 



leaps into 
the sea, 
that is, on 
two fisher- 

and breaks 
one's neck. 

& as hee lope into tlie sea, 

no liarme to no man lie did wott, 
but there liee light vpon 2 ffislier-men ; 
64 with, tlie leape lie broke one of tlieir neckes in a 

The other 
wants to be 
down on the 
poor man 
for this. 

They go 
before the 

The mer- 
chant says 

he lost a 
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 
says the 

man broke 
his brother's 

The other wold needs vpon him haue beene. 

" nay," said the Merchant, " I pray thee now stay ; 
we hane 2 actyons against him alreadye ; 
68 he shalbe carryed to the & hangd this day." 
then they Led him bound before the 'K.wg, 

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 ^ I have a worsse mache then that," sayd the 
" 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 have 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 : 
Quoth he, "neuer since I can remember, 
88 came 3 such matterrs since I was Kinge.^ " 

' pornids six score. — P. 

■' y MS. hut. Cut, say. Hall.— F. 

' before a king. — P. 


Then Marke More, ffoole, beinge by, Marke, the 

"how now, Brother Solomon ?" then q?(oth hee, soio'monto 

let him 

" giue you mil not gine iudgment of these 3 matters, judge these 


92 I pray you returne them ^ ore to mee." 

" With all my hart," q?toth Salomon to him, Solomon 


" take you the iudgment of them as yett ; giadiy, 

fifor neuer came matters me before, 
96 tliai ffainer of I wold be quitt." 

"Well," q^ioth Marke, "Avee haue these 3 men [pageios] 
& euery one hath put vp a bill ; So Marke 

but, pore man, come hither to me. 

100 lets heare what tale thou canst tell for thy selfe." 

calls on the 
poor man 
for his 

"why, my 'Lord,'" qwoth hee, "as touching this He says 


Merchant, chant 

as he rode to a markett towne 
itt was his chance to loose his pursse ; lost his lOo;. 


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" ffor his paine.' 20/. reward 

& itt Avas my chance to ffind thai pursse, iTound it, 

& gladlye to him I wold itt restore ; offer it Mm, 
Ijut now hee wold reward mee with nothinge, 

112 but Challengheth^ in his pursse 20V more." and he asks 

me for 20^. 

" Hast thou any wittnesse of iliai ? " said my LorcZ 
Marke ; 
" I pray thee, fellow, tell mc round." 
" yes, my Lo?tZ, heres his owne man His own 

116 i/irtt carry ed the Message flfrom toAVue to towne." witaess!" 

' you turn them. — P. ^ The hcth in t.he MS. appears crossed out. — F. 

K 2 



The mer- 
chant's man 
says that's 

" Then," 
said Marke, 

" the poor 
man si i all 
keep this 

and you 
shall follow 
him till you 

" I'd sooner 
give him 20/. 
than do 
that," says 
the mer- 
" Pay the 
money then, 
and go." 

" As to the 
says the 
poor man, 

" he and the 
my skins 

the man was called before them all, 

& said itt was a 100" plaine, 
& that his master wold giue 20" 
120 to any wold giue him his jmrsse againe. 

"I had fforgotten 20!'," said the Merchant, 

" giue me leaue ffor my selfe to say." 
"nay," said Marke, "thou Chalengeth ^ more then 
thine owne ; 
124 therfore with the pore fell owe the pursse shall 
& 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 

" Marry, ouer gods fibrbott," said the Merchant, 

" that euer soe badd shold be my share ! 
how shold I fland a 100'/ of him 
132 that hath not a 100 pence to loose ^ ? 
rather He giue him 20'.' more, 

& with that hee hath, lett him stay." ^ 
" Marry, render vs downe the money," said Marke, 
136 " soe may thou chance goe quietlye away." 

" ffellow ! 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 LorcZ, as they ledd me towards the 'King, 

for ffeare lest I shold loose my trattle,* 
these lether skins you see mee bringe, 
144 With tugging and lugging began to rattle." 

' Fr. cJialanger, to clairae, challenge, — P. 
make title vnto. Cotgravc. — 1\ ■• For trattle, Halliwell gives to prattle 

^ spare. — P. or talk idly : for trattlis, the dung of 

• And wh«t ho hath let witli him stay. sheep, hares, &c, — F. 





1 * " Tlie gelding was wanton the Lady rode vpon,- 

no hurt in the world, my Lord, I did nieane, — 
to the ground he cast that Ladye there, 

& on a stub shee dang out one of her eyen." 
" ffellow," q?ioth Marke, " hast ^ thy wiffe 2 eyes ? 

I pray thee," quoth, hee, "tell me then." 
" yes, my Lo?y?, a good honest pore woman, 

that for her liuinge takes great paine." 


the lady's 


and he threw 

her on a 


" Has your 
wife two 
eyes ? " 



" Why then, this shalbe my iudgment straight, 

tho thou perhapps may thinke itt strange : 
thy wiffe wtth 2 eyes, his Ladye hath but one, 

as thou hast drest her, wrth him thoust change." 
" many ouer gods fforbott," then sayd the Knight, 

" that euer soe badd shold be my shame ; 
I had rather giue him a 100". 

then to be trobled w^'th his dunish ^ dame." 

" Then the 
shall change 

" I'd sooner 
give him 
100?." says 
the knight. 


"Marry! tender vs downe the mony," said Marke, "Pay down 

. ,, your money 

" soe may thou be gone within a while. and go." 

but the ffisher ffor feare he shold have beene called. The fisher- 
man is 
he ran away a quarter of a mile. alarmed, 

•' '■ and runs off, 

" I pray you call him againe," qwoth Marke, 

" gifie hee bee w/thin sight ; 
for neuer came matter me before, 

but euerye man shold hauo his right." 

but is called 

They called the ffisher backe againe : 

" how now, fellow ? why didst not stay ? " 
"my Lon?," q'foth hee, " I haue a great way home, and makes 


172 & ffiiine I wold be gone my way," 

' {Marginal note hy ih; writer of the 
MS). This verso shold come in att 
this * mark abouo [which is where it 

now is — F.] 
■' hath.— P. 
' ?(/?«!7?.?/, deaf, stupid, Ilalliwell. — F. 



" As to the 
sa3-s the poor 
" to save 
myself, I 

leapt into 
the sea. 

but came on 
his brother, 
and broke 
Ids neck." 

" Then," 
says Marke, 
" this 
shall put his 
boat in the 
same spot, 
and jump on 

" but, fFellow, how liinderedst tliou this ffislier ? 

I pray thee," quoth. Marke, "to vs tell." 
" raj Jjorcl, as I came neere the sea sycle, 
176 I thought either to be drowned or saue my selfe. 

" And as I lope into the sea, — 

no harme to no mann I did wott, — 

there I light vpon this ffishers brother ; 

180 With 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 deede.^ " 

" And break 
my neck, or 
be drowned," 
says the 
fisherman : 
♦' I'd rather 
give him 

" Pay down 
the money, 
and go 

The poor 
man takes 
all the 
money, and 
says he 
doesn't care 
how often 
he's brought 
before the 
The other 
three say 
they'll never 
come again 

" 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 20'f : 

& 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 w/th other, 
& sayd they wold neere come more to the T^ing 
200 while hee was in companye w/th marke his 

doad. — P. death. — F. 


Cf)omas : of : ^otte/ 

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 woidd 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 promocyon resort to such as ye may take avauwtage, 

Amoug ge«tylme?» for rewardcs, to gentylwomeM for marriage. 

Se your eye be iudyfferent, amongo women that be fayre, 

And tell them storyes of loue, and so to you they \v3dl repayre ; 

Suche pastymes somtyme dotli many men auauuco 

In way of maryagc, and your good name it wyl enhaunce : 

and no doubt in earlier days good-looking young serving-men 

' Shewing how he won Lord Arundel's Vol. i. p. 189, 12° iiititled The Lover's 
Daught<"r from Lord Plioenix, being only Quarrel or Ciqnd's Triiaiq)/!. — P. 
a serving Man. In Pepys' Merrim'.', 


had an eye to their mistresses' hands and fortunes, besides being 
honestly, desperately in lo\^e with them. We have seen, in The 
Lord of Learne (i. 190-8), how the young shepherd-boy was 
taken by the Duke of France's daughter into her service, and 
how she fell in love with him, and married him ; we know how 
in William of Palerne (or William and the Werwolf) the 
Emperor s daughter Melior loves, and must love, her gens et tres 
hiax young serving-man, though he is only a cowherd's foundling, 
and though she tries to school her heart, saying : 

what ? fy I schold i a fundeling • for his fairenesse tak ? 
nay, my wille wol nou^t a-sent • to my wicked hert. 
wel kud kinges & kaysers • krauen me i-now ; 
I nel leie mi loue so low • now at l>is time; 
desparaged were i disgisili • jif i dede in Hs wise ; 
I wol breke out irava. ]?at baret • & blame my hert. 

and with the immense advantage that continual access to a young 
mistress's presence gave a man when kettle and other drums had 
not been invented to bring suitors, and tournaments and feasts 
came rarel}^, 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 theyle neuer be 

this day wold sett my Lady ffree, tane againe. 

that is a white, with a eutt tayle, lett me haue age sober & wise ; 

ffidl 16 yecres of ago is heo. . . itt is a -pari of wisdome, you know 

Master, those \heUer i/oiinrj] horsses itt plaine ; 

beene wild and wicked, if I bo out of my sadio cast, 
& litlo they can skill of tlio old traino ; heele either stand still or turne againe. 



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 : 

Ho send ffor tliy father, tho liord of Arnmdale, 

& marryed together I will you see. 
giflfe hee will [not] maintaine you well, 

both gold and Land you shall haue from me. 

Need we say that the Lady, his true-love, turns Thomas a Pott's 

name into " The Lord of Arrundale," and exhorts all her maids 

& Ladyes of England, fairs & fFree, 
looke you neuer change yoMr old loue for no new, 
nor neuer change for no pouertye. — F. 




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 Ai-rndell, 
his heyre apparrant ffor to bee. 

" Ee see that bryde," liord Phenix sayes, 
" that is a Ladye of hye 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 heyi-e of all my Land thost bee." 

"Leaue of yo?(r suite," the Ladye sayd, 
" you are a Lord of lionor ffrce, 

you may gett Ladyes enowe att homo, 
& I hanc a loue in mine owne countrye. 

Lords and 
Ladies of 

I'll tell you 
of a fail- 




Lord Phenix 

offers to 
marry her. 

She tells 
him that 

she has a 



a semng- 

Thomas a 

Lord Phenix 

says he 

has 40/. to 
Thomas's 31. 

" I liaue a louer true of mine ' owne, 
a servinge man of a sm.all degree ; 
lie is tlie first loue that euer I had, 
24 & the last that hee shalbee : 
Thomas a Pott, itt is his name." 

" gine Thomas a Pott then be his name, 
I wott I ken him soe readilye ; 
28 I can spend 40" bj weeke, 

& hee cannott spend pounds 3." 

The Lady 
says she'll 

stick to 

" god giue you good of yo?(r gold," said the Ladye, 
" and alsoe, S;'r, of yo?ir ffee ! 
32 hee was the fiirst loue that euer I had, 
& the Last, Sir, shall hee bee." 

Lord Phenix 

tells her 

With that Lord Phenix was sore amoued ; 
vnto her ffather then Avent hee ; 
36 hee told her flPather how itt was proued, 
how that his daug-hters mind was sett. 

and he says 
she shan't 
have his 

unless she 

So she is 
forced to be 
his bride. 

" thoa 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,^ & ffreinds are agreede, 
shee is fForcte to be the Lo?yZ Phenix bryde. 

But she 
to beguile 

With that the Lady began to muse — 

a greened woman, god wott, was shee — 
48 how shee might hord Phenix beguile, 

& scape vnmarryed ffrom him that day. 

' MS. niue.— F. 

* There is a mark like an undottcd i 
in the MS. before tlie y. — F. 



sliee called to her lier litle ffoote page ; 
to lacke lier boy, soe tenderlye 
52 sayes, " come tliou hitlier, thou litle ffoote page, 
for indeed I dare trust none bat thee. 

She tells her 
page, Jack, 


" to Strawberry castle, boy, thou must goe, 
to Thomas Pott there as hee can bee, 

& giue him here this Letter ffaire, 

& on o'uilford g-reene bidd him meete me. 

to take a 
letter to 

" looke thou marke his conteuance well, 
& his colour tell to mee ; 
60 & hye thee ffast, and come againe, 
& 40 shillings I will giue thee. 

" for if he blush in his fface, 

then in his hart heese ^ sorry bee. 
64 Then lett my ffather say what hee will, 
for false to Potts He neuer bee. 

[page 410] 

and il he 
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 pctrt shalbe." 

if he smiles. 

then she'll 
give him up. 

then one Avhile thai the boy hee went, 
another while, god wott, rann hee ; 
72 & when hee came to sti-awberry castle, 
there Thomas Potts hee see ; 

The boy 

goes to 


then he gaue him this letter ffau'e, 
& when he began then for to reade, 

they ^ 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 

' heese, i.e. lie will be, or must be. — P. 

■' the.— P. 




cannot read 
the letter. 


with thai, Thomas a Pott began to blushe ; 

the teares trickeled in his eye : 
" indeed this letter I cannot ^ reede, 

nor neuer a word to see or spye ; 

but bids the 
boy tell his 

" I pray thee, hoy, to me thoule be trew, 
& heers 5 marke I will giue thee ; 
84 & all these words thou must pursue, 
& tell thy Lady this ffroni mee : 

that Lord 

shall not 
marry her; 

" tell her by ffaith & troth shee is mine owne, 
by some pa?-t of promise, & soe itts be found, 
88 LorcZ Phenix shall neuer marry her by night nor day 
without he can winn her wz'th his hand. 

he'll lose his 
life to stop 

" on Gilford greene I will her meete, 
& bidd thai Ladye ffor mee pray ; 
92 for there He Loose my liffe soe sweete 
or else the wedding I mil stay." 

The boy goes 

The Lady 
meets him. 

then backs 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 ? " sales shee. 


" boy," said the Ladye, " thou art but 3'ounge ; 

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 

how Thomas 


" 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." 

MS. camot.— F. 



" if this be true," the Ladye sayd, 
" thou Bonny boy, thou tells to mee, 

40? I did thee promise, 

but heeres 10'.' He jjiue itt thee. 

" all my maids," the Lady sayd, 
" that this day doe waite on mee, 
112 wee will ffall do^vne vpon our knees, 
for ThoHias Pott now pray will wee. 

" if his fibrtune be now ffor to winn,^ 
wee will pray to christ in Trinytye ; 
116 He make him the fflower 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 Utord & vaaster came hee. 

& when hee came Lorc^ lockye before, 
he kneeled him low do^vvne on his knee ; 
124 sales, " 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 ; ^ 
132 if you will not beleeue mc by word of mouth, 
behold the letter shee writt vnto mee." 


The Lady 

gives him 

says she and 
her maids 

will pray for 

and she'll 
make him 


goes to his 


and tells him 
that he is 
like to 
lose hi.s lovo 
through his 

' MS. wim.— F. in tlio MS. between lines 131, 132, but 

^ the. — P. marked by a bracket, and by Percy, to go 

^ The next stanza but one i.s written in its proper place. — F. 



Lord Jockye 

" You shan't 
lose her : 

you shall 
gold and 

when Lore? lockye looked the letter vpon, 
the tender words in itt cold bee : 
136 " Thomas Pott, take thou no care, 

thoust nener loose her thronghe ponertye. 

" thou shalt have 40V a weeke, 
in gold & siluer thou shalt rowe,^ 
140 & Harbye towne I will thee allows 

as longe as thou dost meane to wooe ; 

40 men, " thou shalt haue 40*?'' of thy ffellowes ffaire, 

and40horse, & 40 horssc to goc with thee, 

144 & 40 speares of the best I hatie, 

& I my-selfe in thy companye.^ " 

and I'll go 
with you." 

declines the 


"I thanke you, Master," sayd Thomas Pott, 
" neither man nor boy shall goe with, mee ; 

I wold not ffor a 1000" [page 4ii] 

take one man in my comj)anye." 

Lord Jockye 
advises him 

" why then, god be with thee, Tho5H«.s Pott ! 
thou art well knowen & proued for a man ; 
1 .52 Looke thou shedd no guiltlesse bloode, 
nor neuer confound no gentlman ; 

to fix a place 
to fight his 

and he'll 
provide for 

Thomas goes 

Lord Phenix 
and Lady 

" 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 LortZ Phenix, 

& With him Ladye Rozamund his bryde. 

• row, i.e. roll. See Gloss, ad Gr. 
Douglas. So Page 21-20. Thretty Ling 
twelf monthis rowing over, i.e. rolling 

over. — P. 

2 Only half the « in the MS.— F. 


away by tlie biyde rode Thomas of Pott, 
but noe word to ber thai be did say ; 
164 but wben be came Jjord Pbenix before, Lord Phenix 

be gaue bim tbe rigbt time of tbe day. o' day. 

" tbou art welcome, Thomas a Potts ! Lord Phenix 

' asks 

tbou serving man, welcome to mee ! 
168 bow ffares tbey Lord & Master att borne, Thomas's 

& all tbe Ladyes in tby cuntrye ? " 

master is. 

" Sir, my liord & my Master is in verry good bealtb ; "Very well. 
I wott I ken itt soe readylye. 
172 I pray you, will you ryde to one outsyde,! But let me 

, . n •j.i )) have a word 

a word or to we to taike witli mee. with you. 

"vou are a Nobleman," savd Thomas a Potts, You are a 

-> ^ J Lord, 

" yee are a borne Lore? in Scottland ffree ; and can get 

*' ladles at 

176 you may gett Ladyes eno we att borne ; ^"^^ .^ 

you sball neuer take my loue ffrom mee ! " have my 

" away, away, tbou Thomas a Potts ! 
tbou seruing man, stand tbou a- side ! 
180 I wott tberes not a sei'ving man tbis day, 
I know, can binder mee of my bryde." 

" K I be but a seruing man," sayd Thomas, 
" & you are a Lord of bonor ffree, 
184 a speare or 2 He witb you runn, forhw"^"" 

before lie loose ber tbus cowardlye." 

" on Gilford sTcene," Lo/tZ Vhenix saics, " Le tbee ^o"^ Phenix 

° ' ' accepts the 

meete; fi^iit; 

neitber man nor boy sball come bitber w/tb mee." 
188 " & as I am a man," said Thomas a Pott, 
"lie baue as ffew in my companye." 

' i.e. on one side : (ho expression is still used in Nor(li«w^)tonshire. — P. 



and the 
wedding is 
put off, 

is glad, 


w^th that the wedding-day was stayd, 
the biyde went vnmariyed home againe ; 

then to her maydens flPast shee loughe, 
& in her hart shee was fFuU fFaine. 

and says 

pray for 

and if he 

■will make 
him Lord 

" but all my mayds," they Ladye sayd, 
" tJicct 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 fflower of all his kinn, 
for the Jjord of Arrundale he shalbe." 

[The Second Part.] 

Thomas goes 
home again, 

and falls 


f 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 araine came ' hee. 

21 parte < 


& when he came to strawberry castle, 

to try ffor his Ladye he had but one weeke ; 

alacke, ffor sorrow hee cannott fforbeare, 
for 4 dayes then he ffell sicke. 

Lord .Tockye 
asks whether 

he has got his 

with thai his Lord & M.aster to him came, 

sayes, " I pray thee, Thomas, tell mee without all 
212 whether hast thou gotten the bonny Ladye, 
or thou man 2 g^i3,ge the Ladye w/thoute." 

' MS. cane.— F. 

- ma\in, i.e. must. — P. 



" marry, masfer, yett that matter is vntryde ; 

w/'tliin 2 dayes tryed itt must bee. 
i>l6 lie is a Jjord, & I am but a seruing man : 

I doubt I must loose ber tbrougli pouertye." 
" wby, Thomas a Pott, take thou no care ; 

tboust neuer loose her through pouertye ; 

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 w/th him to the ground.' 

" That'll be 
settled in 
two Jays, 

and I shall 
loso lier from 


I'll lend you 


my land, 

224 " & thou shalt haue 40 of thy IFellowes fiaire, 
& 40 horsses to goe w/th thee, 
& 40 spores of the best I haue, 
& I my-sclfe 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 "^ Ladye, 

how shall I increase jouv goods againe ? " 

and 40 men 
and horses. 

and go with 
yon myself, 

232 " why, if thou winn thy Lady ifaire, 

thou maye well fiforth for to pay mee ; 
if thou loose thy Lady, thou hast losse enoughe ; 
not one penny I will aske thee." 

236 " Master, you hauc 30 horsses in one hold, [i)age4i'j] 
you keepe them ranke and royallye ; 
theres an old horsse, — for him you doc not care, — 
this day wold sett my Lady ffrce, 

240 " that is a white, wtth a cutt taylc, 
ffull 16 yeeres of age is bee ; 
giffe you wold lend me that old horsse, 
then I shold gett her easilj^e." 

and never 
ask for a 
return if you 

"If you'll 
lend me your 
old docked 
horse, that's 
all I want." 

' Cp. Bessie off Bed /Kill, vul 


p. 28i, 1. 104-24.— F. 

MS. bomy.— F. 



" Don't be 
Thomas ; 

have a 

244 "thou takes a fibolish part," the LorcZ lockye sayd, 
" & a ffoolish part thou takes on thee ; 
thou shalt haue a better the[n] euer he was, 
tJiat 40'.' cost more nor hee." 

" None of 
your wild 
animals for 
me ; I want 

248 " Master, those horsses beene wild and wicked, 
& litle they can skill of the old traine ; 
gifFe I be out of my saddle cast, 

they beene soe wild theyle neuer be tane againe. 

a sober one, 

that if I'm 
thrown will 
stand still." 

252 " lett me haue age sober & wise ; 

itt is a part of wisdome, jou know itt jilaine ; 
if I be out of my sadle cast, 

heele either stand still or turne ao-aine." 

" Take the 
old horse 
then, and 

100 men." 

256 "thou shalt haue that horsse wtth all my hart, 
& my cote plate of siluer ffree, 
& a 100!* men att thy backe 
for to fight if neede shalbee." 

" No," says 
" neither 
man nor boy. 

260 " I tliauke you, M(w/e/-," said Thomas a Potts, 
" neither man nor boy shall goe with. mee. 
as you are a Lord off" honor borne, 

let none of my ff'ellowes know this of mee ; 

keep 'em all 

264 " ffbr if they wott of my goinge, 

I wott behind me they will not bee ; 
without you keepe them vndor a locke, 
vpj)on that greene I shall them see." 

At Gilford 

Thomas finds 
Lord Phenix 
and men, 

268 & when Tho«ms came to Gilford greene 
& walked there some houres 3 ; 
then was he ware of the Lor(? Phenix, 
and 4 men in his company e. 

272 "you haue broken your vow," sayd Thoinas a Pott, 
" joitv vowe that you made vnto mee ; 
you said you wold come joav selfe alone, 
& you haue brought moi'c tlieii - or o." 






" tliese are my waiting men," Lord Plienix sayd, 
" that eueiy day doe waite on mee ; 

gifle any of these shold att vs stirr, 

my speare sliold ruun tliroAve his bodye." 

" He rnnn uoe race," said Tho/zuzs Potts, 
" till that this otlie heere made may bee : 

' if the one of vs be slaine, 

the other ftbrgineu that hee may bee.' " 

Imt ihey are 
only his 

and he vows 

*' He make a vow," Lord Pheuix saye.s, 

"my men shall beare wittnesse w/th thee, 
giffe thou slay mee att this time, 

neuer the ^^'orsse beloncd in Scottland thou slialt Thomas, 

they shall 
not hurt 

288 then they turned their horsses round about, 
to run 1 the race more egarlye. 
Lo/-(? Phenix he Avas stifFe & stout, 

he has runn Thomas quite thorrow the thye, 

292 & beere Tho/»fl.s out of his saddle ffaire ; 
vpon the ground there did hee lye. 
lie sales, " 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 wall loose my Liffe." 


and Lord 
runs Thomas 

through the 
thigh, and 

Thomas says 

he'll fight on. 

300 then '^ Thomas a Potts was a seruing man, 
he was alsoe a Phisityan good. ; 
he clapt his hand vpon his wound ; staunches 

w/tli some kind of words he staunclit the blood.' 

' M.S. rum.— F. 

' Though.— P. 

' The notes to Brand's Popular Anli- 
(pdtics, ii. 167, cd. 1841, give (from the 
Athenian Oracle, i. ir)8) this ch:irm to 
stop bleeding at llic nose and all other 
liwmorrhages : 

In the blood of Adam, Sin was taken, 
In liie blood of Christ it was all to- 
And by the same blood I do thee charge, 
That the blood of [Thomas Potts] run no 
longer at large. — F. 

L 2 



charges Lord 

runs him 
through the 


304 then into his sadle againe hee leepe, 

the blood in his body began to warme ; 
he mist hord Phenix bodye there, 

bvit he run him quite throw thebrawne of the arme, 


and says 
" fight on, 
or give up 
my Lady." 

Lord Phenix 
says he can't 

308 & he bore him quite out of his saddle ifaire, 
vpon the ground there did he lye ; 
he said, " I pray thee, hord Phenix, rise & ffight, 
or else yeeld this Ladye sweete to mee." 

312 "to ffight with thee,"q;<oth Phenix, "I cannott stand; 
nor ffor to ffight, 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 w/th all my hart, 
sith itt was like neuer better to proue ; 
nor neuer a noble man this day 

thai will seeke to take a pore mans loue." 

[page 413] 

320 " Why then, be of good cheere," sales Thoinas Pott, 
" indeed, your bucher He neuer bee, 
for lie come & stanche jouv bloode, 
giff" any tliankes youle giue to mee." 

and offei's 
him another 
chance : 

324 as he was stanching ^ the Phenix blood, 

these words Thomas a Pott cann to him proue, '^ 
" He neuer take a Ladye of you thus, 
but here He giue you another choice : 

to let 
them and 
take which 
she likfs. 

328 " heere is a lane of 2 miles longc ; 
att either end sett wee will bee ; 
the Ladye shall sitt vs betweene, 

& soc will wee sett this Ladye ffree." 

' MS. btumching.— F. 

or praic. 






" if tlioule doe soe," Lor J Phenlx sayes, 
" Tho»ias a Pott, as thou dost toll mee ; 

whether I gett her or goe w/thout her, 
heeres 40'.' He giue itt thee." 

Lord Phonix 
accepts this 

and gives 
Thomas 40/. 


& when the Ladye there can stand, 

a womans mind that day to proue ; 
" now, by my ifaith," said this Ladye ffaire, chooses 

"this day Thomas a Pott shall haue his owne loue." Thomas, 

toward Tho7»as a Pott the Lady shee went, 

to leape behind him hastilye ; 
" nay, abyde a while," sayd hord Phenix, 

" ffor better yett proued thou shalt bee : 

344 " thou shalt stay heere with all thy maids, — 
in number with thee thou hast but 3, — 
Thomas a Pott & He 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 ; 
Ijorcl Phenix he had giuen his word 
With Tho Hias a Pott neuer to ffight, 

352 " giue me a Choice," hord Phenix sayes, 
" Tho»irts a Pott, I doe pray thee ; 
lett mee goe to yonder Ladye ffaire 
to see whether shec be true to thee." 

356 & when hee came that Ladye too, 

vnto that likesome dame sayd hee, 
" now god thee saue, thou Ladye ffaire. 
the lieyre of all my Land thoust bee ! 

360 " ffor this Thomas a Potts I haue slaine; 

he hath more then deadlye wounds 2 or 3 ; 
thou art mine owne Ladye," he sayd, 
" & marrycd together wee Avill bee." 

and is going 
to him, 

when Lord 
Phenix tells 

her to stop, 

and he fight 
to the death. 

He asks 

to let him 
prove her. 

He goes to 
her, tells her 

he has killed 

and she is 
now his. 



says she'll 

have him 

and then 

Lord Phenix 

her, says 
Thomas is 

and shall 
marry her. 


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 

3G4 the Laclye said, " if TllOJ/^^s■ a Potts this day thou 
haue slaine, 
thou hast slaine a better man than euer was thee ; 
& lie sell all the state of my Lande, 

but thoust be handed on o. o-allow tree." 

368 with that they Lady shee ffell in a soone, 
a greened woman, I wott, was shee : 
Lort? Phenix hee was readye there, 
tooke her in his armes most hastilye ; 

372 " LojT?, sweete/ & stand on thy ffeete ! 

this day Thoinas a Pott aliue can bee ; 
He send ffor thy father, the Jjord of Arrundale, 

& marryed together I will you see. 
376 giffe hee "will you ^ maintaine you well, 

both gold and Land you shall haue from me." 

" He see thai wedding," my LortZ of Arrundale said, 
" of my daughters loue tliai 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 & fifree, 
384 looke you neuer change yo?(r old loue for no new, 
nor neuer change for no pouertye ; 

" ffor I had a loner true of mine owne,^ 
a serning man of a small degree ; 
388 flfrom Tho;ua.s a Pott He turne his name, 

& the Lo7-f? of Arrundale hee shall bee." 

' O Lady sweete. — Uvce. 

* for not .— F, 

^ MS. owme.— F. 


SiSailliam tl)f ConqufromV 

The cop}' of this ballad in Stranc/e 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 Bogero.'' " It was written by 
Deloney the ballading silk-weaver," who died in or before 1600. 
Evans, who prints this ballad from another copy (2Vie 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 Grravesend, the Kentishmen came towards him 
armed, and bearins 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 

' This seems modfrn liy it's elegance. The. Garland of Bclujht. ICvans prints 

The story of the Kentish-Men's pre- this ballad from tlio latter, but the for- 

serving their liberties, 1()6() Anno. Col- mar is a better autliority. As Perey 

lat^d witii a Copy in Popys's Collocticu says ' Hirangc Hlshtrks or Garland' 

of Penny Merrini^", Vol. 3. p. 3'J. P. L. both here and in his first note to the next 

In if Strange Ihaturics or Garland of poem, I ttiink he may have si^en some 

Delight. To the Tune of Rogero. — P. copy made np of the two Garland^. - 

Stra>ige Hisforie.t is a different book from W. C. 



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. 3Ius. i. 94.) 


he was 
crowned by 
the Ai-ch- 
biihop of 
York ; 

punished his 

When william duke of normandye [page4i4] 

with glitering ^ speare & sheild 
had entered into ^ ffaire England, 
4 & told 3 his ffoes in ffeild, 

vpon Christmas day, in soleme '* sort, 

then was hee crowned lieere 
by Albert, Archbislioj)p of yorke, 
8 & many a noble peere. 

wAi'ch being done, he changed quite 

the customes of England,'' 
& punished '^ such as daylye sought 
1-2 his statutes to w/thstand. 

and subdued 

but Kent 

& many cytyes hee subdued, 

ffaire London With the rest, 
but '^ then Kent did still w/thstand his power,^ 
16 & did his lawes detest. 

He went to 
Dover to 
destroy the 

to doner then he tooke the ^ way, 
the castle downe for ^^ to flinge 
which Aueragus had '^ builded there, 
20 the noble Brittaine ^^ Kino-e. 

bisliop of 

the Abbot of 
St. Austin's, 

but when '^ the braue Archbishopp bold 

of Canterbury knew, 
the Abbott of S' Austines eke, 
24 w/th all their gallant crew, 

■ glistering.— P. « punislit. — P. ' del. — P. 

^ There's a w seemiiiglv before llic /. " fori'o. — P. ^ his. — P. 

-F. ' foiVd.— P. '0 Del.— P. " del.- P. 

* solemn.— P. * of this Lund.— P. '- British.- P. '^ whioh when.— P. 



the 1 sett tliemselues in order ^ bright, 

these mischeefes to preueut, 
with all the yeomen braue & bold 
28 that were in ftruitfull Kent. 

and tlio 

att Canterbury they did ^ meete 

vpon one certaine daj', 
"* With sword, With sheild, w/th bill, w/th bow, 
32 to stopp ^ the conquerours way. 

met at 

" ^ let vs not line like bondmen pore 

to fFrenchmen in their pryde, 
but lett vs^ keepe our ancyent lybertyes, 
36 what chance soeuer tyde ** ! 

and resolved 

" & rather lett vs ^ dye in bloody ffeild, 

with manly courage prest, 

then to endure the seruile yoke 

40 w/iich wee thus much ^^ detest ! " 

not to 

thus did the Kentish Com7iions crye 

vnto their leaders still, 
& then they marched '^ in warlike sort, 
44 & stood att swansco '^ hill. 


marched to 

& vTider a wood ^^ they hidd tliemselues, 

vnder they shadow grecne, 
wherby '^ to gett them vantage good 
48 of all their ffoes vnseene.^^ 

hid in a 

' they.— P. 

- armour. — P. 

3 did they.— P. 

* sword & .spe.'ir . . . 

'- And Stopt.-^P. 

" yeild like.— P. 

' del.— P. 

" so e'er betyde. — P. 

» did.— P. 

& Low.— P. 

'* so much. — P. 
" And so marcht forth. — P. 
'- Swauscomb.— P. 
" There in the woods. — P. 
■' Thcrby.— P. 
'* And fur y"^ conq^^ coming thoro 

They privily laid wait, 
And thcrby suddenly appal'd 

his lofty high conceit. — P. 



and on 



marched out, 
each carry- 
ing a bough. 

& ^vllen ' the spyed his approche 
ill place where tliey did stand, 
they marched fforth to hemm him in ; 
52 eche man tooke ^ a bow in his hande. 

William sees 
a wood 

"^ before, behind, & on echo syde 

as hee did cast his eyes,* 
he espyed these woods ^ in sober pace 
56 approach to him fFnll nye. 

and quakes 
for fear. 

The shape of men he cold not see, 

the boAves did hyde them soe ; 
& how ^ his hart did quake for feare 
60 to see a fForrest o-oe ! 

The Kentish 
men hem 
him in, 
draw their 
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 

and deplo)'. 

their banners they displayed ' in sight, 

their trumpetts sounded * a charge, 

the rattling drummes strike vp alarme,^ 

68 their troopes streitch fforth to the Large,'" 

William is 


" wheratt this dreadfull Conquerour 

theratt was sore agazed,'^ 
& most in perill when he thought '^ 
72 all psrills had beene past. 

For when as they did. — P. 
del. iooke. — P. 

Percy marks to come in here : 
So that up to the conqiifroTS sight 

Amazed as he stood 
Tliey seeni'il to be a walking grove 
Or else a moving wood. — P. 
eye.— P. 
spyed the wood w/th. — P. 

^ now with fear did quake. — P. 

' display.— P. 

" sounde. — P. 

^ Their .... alarms. — P. 
'" out at large. — P. 
" The conqr with all his train 

Were hereat sore agliast. — , 
'^ aghast or agast. — P. 
" tliey thought.— P. 



^ therfore vnto the Kentislimeu 

an Embassadoure lie sent, 
to know they ^ cause they tooke in hand 

these warres, to what entent.' 

to nsk wliat 
the Kentisti 
men want. 

to whom they made this short reply, 

"ffor liberty weele iiight,^ 
And to enioy K/»;7 Edwards the Confessors "• Lawes 
80 w/u'eh Avee doe hold arrio-ht.-^ " 

and King 

[page 41-'.] 

"why'' then," said the dreadfull Conqneronr, 

"you shall haue what you Avill ; 
jouv libertyes, jour ancyent custonies,^ 
84 soe that you wilbe still ; 

agi-ees to 

" & eche thing else w7t/ch you will crane 

With reason att my hands, 
soe that you Avill acknowledge me 

cheefe l^ing of ffaire England." 

give them 
all the}' ask, 

the Kentishmen therevpon agreed, ** 

& layd all ^ their arraes asyde ; 
& by this meanes Edwards lawes 
92 doe still in kcnt '" abyde. 

and the 
Kentish men 
lay down 
their arms. 


& in no place in England else 
such customes " doe remaine, 

as the}^ by their manlike '^ policye 
did of duke william s^aine. 


Thus Kent 
alone keeps 
its old 

'-' Unto the Keutishmon he sent 
The Ciuise to understand 
For whet intent & for what cause 
They took this war in hand. — P. 
2 tlie.— P. ■' we tight. 

* deh— P. 
■'■ onr right. — I'. 
" del. v^/i//. — P. 

' Youv ancient customs & your law.s. 
—P. See note at the end of the volume. 
" agreed tlioreon. — P. 
» delend a/l.—'P. 
"• In Kent doe still.— P. 
" those Customs. — P. 
'- "\V///ph they by manly. — P. 


" 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 


Henry I. had 
subdued the 

W HEN : as royall 'King ^ lieneiy the ffirst 

had ffoyled his ffoes in ffrance, 
& spent the pl[e]asant spi'inge 
4 his honors ^ to adnance. 

he came 
back to 

then into England he returned'* 

wi'th Same & victorye, 
what t[i]me the suhiects of this Land 

receiued him ioyfullye. 

but left his 
children in 
France, — 

but att his home returne, 

his children left hee still 
in ffrance, fibr to soiourne 
12 to purchase learned skill. 


Duke william with his brother dere, 

LorcZ Richard was his name, 
who was the Erie of Chester then, 
16 w^[ho] ^ thirsted after ffame ; 

' A.D. 1120. To the tune of T/ie 
Ladies Baughtir. This, as well as the 
foregoing, is an excellent ballad. Collated 
with a copy in Strange Histories or The 
Garland of Vdight, 12"?», Canto 3''.,B. 
L., in Popys CoUoctzon of Penny Mer- 

rim'!, vol. 3. p. 14. — P. 
'^ After our royl king. — P. 
^ honour. — P. 

■* Into fair England he return'd. 
'" and thirsted. — P. 



the K/»^s ffaire daughter eke, 

the Lady Marry bright, 
w/th diuers noble peeres, 
20 & many a hardy Knight ; 

Mary, — 

with peers 
and knights. 

all these he left ' together there, 

in pleasure ^ and delight, 
when that our Km^ to England came 
24 after the bloodye ffight. 

but when ffaire fflora had 

drawen fforth her treasure dryc, 
then winter sadd and cold ^ 
28 with hoarye head drew niee.* 


summer was 

and wnter 
came on, 

then these princes all with one assent ■' 

prepared all things meete 
to passe the seas into ^ ffaire England, 
32 whose sight to them was sweete. 

the princea 

" to England lett vs hye," 
this euerye one did say, 
" ffor Christamaa draweth nye ; 
36 no longer lett vs stay. 


Christmas in 

but let vs "^ spend the Merry Christauias time 

in game and pleasant sort,'' 
where Lady pleasure doth attend 
40 w/th many a princely sport." 

and enjoy 

' wcro left. — P. 

^ pleasures. — P. 

' cold and sad. — P. 

* nigh.— P. 

* Those princes all. . . cous[ent]. — P. 

« for.— P. 

' [let ivs] del.— P. 

8 MS. tine.— F. 

" within our Father's court. — P. 


They set sail, to seas ' these princes went, 

full fir aught ^ w/th mirth & ioy ; 
but all their merryment ^ 
44 returned to greet '' anoye. 

but tlio 
sailors got 

foi- the saylors & the shipmen,-^ 

throughe fFoule excesse of wine, 
they were soe amazed thai ^ on the sea 
48 they showed themselues like swine. 

no one could 

and the ship 
went at 

The princes 

and fear, 

but at last 
see England 

the sterne ^ no man cold guide, 

the Master sleeping Lay, 
the saylors all beSyde 
52 went reeling euerye way, 

soe thai the shipp att randome rode 

vpon the ff'oniinge ffloode, 
wherby in pcrill of their lines 
56 these princes ^ alway stoode, 

w/; /ch caused distilling ^ teares 
from their faire eyes to ffall, 
their harts were filled w/th ffeare,^° 
60 N'o Ioy ' ' they had att all, 

the wished themselues vpon the land 

1000 times and more ; 
then att they last ^"^ they come in sight 
64 of Englands pleasant shore. 

[page 416] 

' To sea.— P. 

That y telle an evel lype, 
Mon that doth him into shypo 

AVhil the woder is wod ; 
T"()r, Le ho conic to the depo. 
He may wryngc hard ant wepe, 

Ant be of drery mod. 
' Ofto rap reweth ; ' 

Quoth Ilendyng. 
B''Viqui(P Antiqiue, i. 115. — ^1". 
■' J'ulfiU'd.— P. 

' this their merrim^ — P. 

* did turn, to dear. — P. 

' The sailfvrs .... Shipmen all. — P. 

" were so disguis'd that. — P. 

' A.-S. steor-ern, the steering-place, 
the stern. — F. 

' The princes. — P. 

" w/u'ch made distilling. — P. 
•" fears.— P. 
" no helpe.- — P. 
'■^ And at the last.— P. 



then eueiy one began 

to turne these sigcs ' to smiles, 
their coulours ^ pale and wan 
68 a cheerfull looke Exiles. 

and smile. 

the })rincelye Lords most louinglje 

their Ladyes doe embrace ; 
^ " In england," q?roth they " wee shalbe 
r2 within a litle space." ^ 

their ladies, 

" take comforts to yo»r seines," 

thus euerye one did say, 
" & be no more dismay d ; 
76 behold the Land att Last ! " * 

and all take 

■^ btit as they did thus cheerfuUye 

their comfort to attaine, 

then soddainlye vpon a rocke 

80 the shipp itt burst in twayne.^ 

But at that 

the ship 
strikes, and 
breaks in 

w/th that a greiuous scrike** 

among them there was made, 
& euery one did seeke 
84 on something to be stayd. 

Every one 
seeks a 

but all in vaine ! such helpe the lackc.'' 
the shipp soe soone did sinke 

that in the seas ^ they wei'e constrained 
to take their latest drinke. 

but all are 

' their sighcs.- P. 

* coloiu" P. 

'— ' For now in Engbind shall wo he 
Quoth they in httlc space. — P. 

■• then they said 
Behold the Land at last 

Then he &e. 
Tlio worst is gone & past. — P. 

^— ^ While they did this joyful h(ip( 
With comfort entertaiao 
The goodly sliip upon a rock 
In sunder hurst in twainc. — P, 
« shrielv.— P. 
' they sought. — P. 
» sea.— P. 




there miglit you see the Lords 
and Ladyes fFor to lye 

amidst the salt sea ffome, 
w/th many a greiuons crye 

their efforts, 

except Duke 
who gets 
into the 
cockboat ; 

still laboured for their lines ' defence 

^viih streched armes abroad, 
& lifting vpp their Lilly hands 
96 for helpe w/th one accordd. 

but as good fibrtnne wold, 

the sweete young duke did gett 

into the Cockebotte then, 
where safelye he did sitt. 


but when he heard his si[s]ter2 crye, 

the 'Kings faire daughter deere, 
he turned his boate to take her in 

but he turns 
to rescue his 

Bister, 104 whose death did draw soe neere ; 

others crowd 
into the 

and all arc 

but while he turned his boate 

to take his sister in,^ 
the rest such shifFfc did make 
108 in seas as they did swimn, 

for to ^ the boate a number gott, 

soe raany att the Last,^ 
that the boate & all that was '^ theiln 
112 was drowned & oner cast. 

of Lords & gentlemen, 

& ladyes ffaire of fface, 
not one escaped then ; 
116 this was^ a heauinesse ! 

' labouring .... life's. — P. j 
2 .si.ster.— P. 
* lio strove to take 
His sweet young sister in. — P 

* That to.— P. 

* as at the last. — P. 

" The boat .... were. — P, 
' Which was.— P. 



60^1^ and ten ' were drowned in all, 

not one escaped death 
but one pore bucher, who had swoome 
120 himselfe quite out of breath. 

which was ^ most lieauy newes 

vnto our comlye Kinge ; 
all mirth hee did refuse,^ 
124 this word when he did * bringe, 

70 perish. 

One, a 

The King is 
sad at the 

and refuses 
all mirth. 

where by ^ this meanes no child wee '' had 

his Elingdonie to succeede, 
^ his sisters sonne was crowned 'Kings, 
128 as wee may plainly reede.^ 


No child 
but his 

' Thre Score & ten.— P. 

' This was.— P. 

^ Who did all mirth refuse. — P. 

< they did.— P. 

* For.— P. 
6 he.— P. 
'"' Whereby his sister's Son was king 
As you shall plainly read.— P. 



ilurtDmng: of Ctiliiarb tin ffotirti) \n^ 53onnt«?/ 

This ballad differs very slightly from that published in the 1659 
edition of The Croivn Garland of Golden Roses (reprinted by 
the Percy Society, ed. Mr. Chappell), and reprinted from that 
work in Evans' Old Ballads, iii. 38. The piece is there intituled 
"An excellent song made of the successors of King Edward the 
Fourth, to the tune of 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 

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 

' This is but of moderate excellence, Song on this Suhjoct, hut very different 
tho' written so hite as Jumos the I'.'s from this, in the printed Collection, 12 '".", 
Time. See Sinn". 31, 32. There is a Vol. ii. p. 100.— P. 



the 1612 edition, "and from early times down to the end of tlie 
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. 


Edward IV. 

he left two 
young sons. 

then 'Richard, duke of Glouster, 

desiring Kingly sway, 
desired ^ by treason how to make 

his brothers sonnes away. 

Glo'ster and 

plot to kill 

betwixt them they Layd downe their plott,^ 

& straight together went 
to Stony Stratford, where they mett 
12 the King incontinent. 

[page 417] 

and meet the 
young King 
at Stony 

the sweete young King did entertalne 

his vnckle Louinglye,^ 
not thinkinge of their "* vile intent, 
16 nor of their ^ trccherye. 

& then the duke of Buck[i]ngham, 

to sett abroach this thinge, 
he begau a quarrell for the noncte 
20 with them that kept the Kinge. 


' contrived. — P. 

■^ Tlii'ii ho & Buckingham did plot. — 

' liincs i;{, 11 arc wi-illtii Infurc 1. 11 

in iho MS., but are marked at the sido 
with a bracket. — F. 
' Ins.— i'. 

* his.— r. 



aiTests Lord 

Lord Rivers, 


& then tliey did arrest Lord Gray, 
the Brother to the Queene ; 

lier other brother, the hord Riuers, 
in durance as they had beene. 

and Sir T. 

tlio King's 

Sir Thomas Vaughan then Likewise * 

did there and then ^ arrest ; 
soe was the 'King of all his ffreinds 
28 suddenly dispossest. 

and has 
them i^ut to 

in breelFe, these Noblemen were sent 

to Pontfracte Castle scone, 
where the, [in] ^ short time afterwards, 
32 to death was eche man doone. 

Glo'ster and 
take the 
King to 

then forth they brought they King alone, 

towards London with great speed, 
vsing their perswasions full ffalselye * 
36 not to Mislike that deede. 

and lodge 
him in the 


and the 

& when to London that they came, 

ffor him they had p?'epared 
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 ; 

desiring ^ how then ^ in his mind 
to gett the other brothers too, 
the which the Cardinall vndertooke 
48 ffull Cuningly to doo. 

' in liko wise. — P. 

* They then and there. — P. 

« in.— P. 

* their false persuasions. — P. 

* Devizing. — P. 
contriving, then how. — P. 




& then tlio Carclinall in great Last 
vnto the Queene doth come ; 

vsing his pe/'swasions ffull flalselyc, 
then he "'ott her other sonue. 

the Queen to 
give up her 
other sou. 

then they both in ffull great hast 

vnto the tower were sent, 
where they lined but short space, 
56 ffor death did them, prevent. 

them both in 
the Tower, 

then Duke 'RiCB.ard, hauing ffound this meanes 

to worke these 2 princes death, 
p?-ocured one of Iames Tirrelt.s hired men • 
60 ffull soone to stopp their breath : 

and Ijires 
two men, 

lames Dighton & Miles fforrest both, 

these 2 vile wicked men,^ 
these 2 were made the instruments 
64 to worke this murder then. 

Dighton and 

these princes being asleepe in bcdd, 

lyinge arme in arme, 
not thinking of their vile entents 
68 nor thinking any harnie. 

who, when 
the princes 
are asleep in 

these villaines, in the ffetherbedd 
did wrapp them up in hast, 

& w/th the clothes soe smothered them 
till liffe and breath was past. 

witli the 


& then they both were burycd, 
where no man yett doth know. 

but mai-ke how god, in his iudgment iust, 
did Ill's riijlit reueiiLrment showe ! 

But Uod 
for this. 

' -jiie Sr Jam 

tlu'sc vilo ami wicked moii. — P. 



is beheatled. 

never sleeps, 
is always in 
fear of his 

and at la?t 

fiffhts him 
at Bosworth, 

and he is 

and set 
naked and 
mangled on 
a horse. 

Richmond is 

Henry VII., 

for betwixt those Dukes witliin short space 

such a discord there was bredd, 
as Buckingham to please the 'King 
80 was fforcct 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. 

he neuer cold haue quiett sleepe, 

his liffe itt stood in flfeare, 
his hand vras on his dagger straight, 
88 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. 

then meeting him att Bosworth ffelld,' 

they fought w/th harts full faine ; 
yett ffor shedding of these princes blood, 
96 god caused King Hicnard to be slaine. 

& being dead, vpon a horsse 

all naked he was borne, 
his fflesh [all ^] cutt & mangled, 
100 his haire all rent and tonie. 

& then Erie Richmond worthelye, 

ffor this his deede of ffame, 
of England hee was crowned K/7/7, 
104 Henery the 7'^ by name, 

[page 418] 

is snccecded 
liy Henry 



of whom most royall lines did springe, 
///at ffamous King of might, 

Henery the 8"', our ^ noble deeds 
our chronicles doe well recyte. 

Sec Bosworth Fcihle below. — F. 

all cut.— P. 

■' wliosc. — P. 



Avlien tliai liee dyed, liee left liis Laud & crowiio 

to Edward his sweete sonue, 
Avliose gracyous raigne all England may rue 
112 liis time soe soone is come. 

lie bv 
Edward VT., 

& then his Sister Marye came, 
next princesse of this Land ; 
but in her time blind ignorance 
IIG against gods truth did stand, 

he by Mary 

w/a'ch caused many a mans blood, 

to be sliedd in ruefull case ; 
tlien god did England once regard,^ 
120 & turned all these stormes to orace. 

(who killed 



ffor then the other sister came, 

Elizabeth our Late Queene, 
& shee released her peoples harts 
1:24 ffrom grecfFe & eirrou[r]s ^ cleane. 

she by 
our late 

& then the ^ mightye lames did come, 

of king Hener//*" royall race ; 
Avhosc happy daycs our horO p/-(3scruc, 
128 grant him Long time & space ! 


and she by 
James I., 
whom God 
preserve ! 

' England once more (lo'l di'l rr;^'.ii''l. 

- orroiirs. — P. 

« MS. die [blotted] the— F. 


€\)t : fall X ot : prmte[s;:]' 

The transit oriness of the glory of this life was a thing tliat our 

early writers were much impressed with, a theme on which they 

often wrote. 

a ! man hab munde 
)>at of }>is lif Jjer commijj ende : 
of er]>e and axen ^ is iire kunde, 
and in-to duste we schullit> 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 J^i scliuldrcs and of J^i side 
Jjou mi3te hunti luse and flee ! 
of such a park i ne hold no pride ; 
i>e dere nis nau3te l^at l^ou 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, 

\>ei^ man bo rich of lond and lede, 
and holdij? festis ofte and lome, 
hit nis no donte he sal be dede, 
to 3elde recning at i>e 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,^ 

Whi is ]>js worlde biloued hat fals is & veyn ? 

Its power passes away like a brittle pot that is fresh and gay. It 

' N.B. This song sho^fM seem to have ^ ashes. — F. 

been wrote soon after the Death of ' Hi/mns to the Virgin and Christ, 

Henr^ 8. Vid. St. iilt.— P. E. E. T. Soc, p. 86, 1867.— F. 


is full of sin, false in its business, false in its pleasures : unstable 
as water, it cannot excel : 

It is rat>ir to bileeue the wageringc wijnde 

jran \>e chaungeable world )3at niakij> men so blinde. 

Solomon, Sampson, Absalom, Duke Jonatas, CiEsar, the Rich 

Man of the Grospels, Tullius, Aristotle : 

Where ben fiese wor)?! J^at were heere to-forn ? 
BoJ'e 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 ]?ing of vanite." 
[Hymns to Virgin, p. 81, 1. 85-6.) The writer of the present 
poem preaches a like sermon, that life is short and none can 
resist 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. Froude says 
the king made on his contemporaries : he was evidently to them 
the " Solomon in all his glory " of his age : 

if wisdom or manhood by any meanes cold 

haue sailed a mans lifFe to endure for ever, 
then King Henery the 8'^ soe noble and soe bold, 

out of this wyde world he wold haue passed neucr. 

Though the climax is to us an anti-climax, it is useful as a sign 
of the times. 

iHE : hyc god most gracyous, his ' goodenesse alone, God, after 

thou hast 2 made vpon the earth, beast, bird and tree, beSts'biids, 
Angells in heaueii, & ministers to thy throne, 

the sun & the moonc, the Element & skyc. angels, 

att Last thou made [man] of ^ noblest degree, moon, 

after thine owne likenesse, such was thy grace. made man. 
Lawde wee him therrtbre, for hap[)y wee bee ; 

But heere wee beene sure to Hue but a space. 

' whose.— P. •■' llalli. — P. 3 jimJcst man of.— P. 



But whore 
are Adam 

and Eve ? 

Dead. And 
we can live 
but a space. 

Where are 


and Duke 

Joshua ? 

Their glorj's 


a id we don't 

live here 


Where are 



[page 419] 

All dead, and 
we must 
follow them. 

Where are 

and Oliver ? 

Where is Adam our ffirst progenitor, 

of 1 bewt je & of cuning, & ^ neuer had no peere ? 
& Eue his companyon, that most oryent ffigui-e ? 
12 he Tsjing, & shee Qneene, ouer all this world in ffere ; 
yet through theu' great fFalls soone changed we all our 
thai all their posterytye shold fibllow their trace ; 
death hath them deuoured, this matter is clere ; 
IG but ^ heere wee beene sure to liuc but a space. 

Where is 'King David the doughtye, that Golyas ouer- 
came ? 

or duke losua the gentle, of him what shold I tell ? 
or Samson that ruled the Lyon like a lambe ? 

or Hercules that quelled the porter of hell ? 
where is duke losua that euer bare the bell ? 

their pompe & their glory is nowe very basse.* 
lett this be a mirrour alwayes in our sight, 

that heere we beene sure to line but a space. 

Where is Alexander the mighty e, that conquered this 
world wide, 

& gouerne att ^ one day as himselfe did luste ? 
or [NTabuchondozer, tJiat prince pi'oud of price ^ ? 

or Augustus, w/tli his power to them was full lust ^ ? 
where is Haniball the hardy, threw all in the duste, 

and brought all roome ^ into a sorry stay ? 
All these be dead and gone, and after them wee must,^ 

and w^ee must all fi'olloAv as fast as wee may. 

Where is Hector of Troy, that one of the 9 Avorthics was ? 

& w^orthy sure he was soe for to bee ; 
or Rowland & Oliuer, as itt came to passe, '^ 
."36 in number they were doughtye men all 3, 





' for. — P. - tluit. — P. ' tliat was with his power full (righl) 

» that.— P. just.— P. 

■• base. s Komc— P. 

* govern'd it.— P. » go after thoiii wo must. — P. 

« full of pride.— P. '» MS. paste.— F. 


but yctt With death they cokl not agree 

in this world to haue no Longer space, 
death, all their glory from them he did ring/ Dead, as we 

' ° •' shall soon 

40 & wee must all follow them in a short space. be. 

Where is Grodfrey of Bullcn, that Troian soe stout ? where are 


or Mithydrates, where is hee ? Mithridates, 
or lulyus Machabeus that went not about ? 

44 or Guy of warwicke, as doughtye as hee ? cmy of 

where is Huon ^ of Burdeaux, where is hee ? Huon of ' 

T --, „ in Mil- 1 Bordeaux? 

these cold not refuse death w(tn his mace •* ; 
therfor niarke my sayings all you thaf^ heere bee, Dead, and wc 

48 for heere wee beene sure to hue but a space. iiere loug. 

Where is lason the doughtye that woone the fleece of where arc 



or Acctollen ^ that was called the scorge of god, ^ttiia, 

or Phebus, the wisest man vpon the mould ? Phebus, 

52 or Acchilles that was called the Troians rodd ? Aciiiiies, 

where is Kiiiq Herod the herlott, was ^ worsse then and King 

■^ Herod y 

for With his owne Kinsmen himselfe he did deface ? 
Loe ! heere you may see, flfor all this noble ^ blood, Wc can live 

here but a 

that here we beene sure to hue but a space. space. 



where is the Empcrour that the bold clarke was wiierearc 
called '-^ ? 
the Sarasins doe remember him, & shall doe for 
euer '^ ; 
or lulyus Cassar, with '• head balde, juiius 

that brought lloomc & the Romans to a sorry stay ? '^'*'' 

' wring did ho. — P. ^ wood. — P. 

- Sir Huon.— P. " hye.— P. 

3 ? MS. mjite, a/fcrcd to luacc— F. » Was it Charlemagne (1. 77) ? He 

* MS. that you. — F. encouraged learning. — T. Wriglit. 
' Antiochu-i.— P. '" aye. — P. 

* who was. — P. " with his. — P. 



and Nero ? 


as we soon 

shall be. 


wliere is Nero the cruell, thai ruled soe many a day ? 

these cold not refuse death Avith his mace ; 
therfore marke my saying, all you tliai heere bee,' 

for wee beene sure to liue but a space. 

Whore are 



Sir Volen, 



that we 
must die. 

Where is Pironius,^ the proud enemy to Roome ? 

or dulcina the terror, or Cicill the Kinge ^ ? 
or S/r Volen, was called the hardy Troian ? 
68 or Troylus of Troy thai loued well to springe ? 

where is Tamberlaine thai ouej'came the Turke [in 
thai all the world did bring in di'ead & in doubt of 
his deuilish face ? 
lett this be a mirrour allwayes in our sight, 
72 tliai heere wee beene sure to liue but a space. 

Where are 



magne ? 

Dead too, 
and we 
live long. 

Where is 'K^'ing Arthur the venturer, w/th his Knighis 
bold ? 5 
or Sir Tristeram, thai treasure of curtesye ? 
or Sir GaAvaino the good, w/th his helmctt made of 
gold ? 
76 or Sir Lancelott dulake, a 'Knighi of Chiualrye ? 
where is 'King Charlemaine^ of ffrance, from them 
wold "^ neuer fflee ? 
yett these cold not refuse death w/tli his mace, 
heere you may see, ffor all the hye degree, 
80 thai here [we ^] beene sure to liue but alitle ^ space. 

' hear may. — P. See Dr. Robson's 
note below on leane, 1. 72 of Sir John 

* Pyrrhus. — P. I can't find Dulcina 
and Volen. — F. 

3 ? Eobert of Sicily : 
Yn Cysylle was a nobullc kynge, 
Fayre and strongo, and some dele 3ynge . . 
Tiie kynge was calde kynge Koberd, 
Never man in hys tyme wyste hj'maferdc. 

HalliweWs Nnf/^e Puet/cce, p. 49. 
According to Froissart (translated) In; 
" was a great astrouomyri', and full of 

great science " ; and in 1529 a play, 
" Kynge Robart of Cieylye," was per- 
formed at the High Cross at Chester, ib. 
p. 71.— F. 

^ in fight.— P. 

^ The latter half of each of lines 73-7 
is written in the MS. as the first half of 
the line succeeding it. — F. 

" Only two strokes and the dot of the 
?■ in tlie MS. for in.—F. 

' Wlio would.— P. MS. is right. 
Com]iar(^ 1. 8.5 in tlie next stanzM. — F. 

** wee.— P. " short.— P. 



Where is K-Ing Ricliarc?, was called Cwer de Lyon ? 

or Saladine the good Sarazen, wliere is liee ? 
or Edward the 3"? that wan Gasconie & Gaines ' ? 
84 or 'King Henery the 5 "', a prince of Chiualrye ? 

where is duke Charles of Burgundye, from them did 
neney flee ? 
yett these cold not refuse death wi'th his mace ; 
wherfor marke my saying, all you that here bee, 
88 that here wee beene sure to Hue but a space. 

Wbcro are 
Edward III. 

Henry V., 

Charles ? 

All dead. 

Take heed, 


we shall soon 

die too. 

ffor if wisdome or manhood by any meanes cold 

haue saued a mans liffe to endure for euer, 
then Khig Henery the 8*"^ soe noble and soe bold, 
92 out of this wyde world he wold haue ^ passed neuer. 
but death, where he comes, all things doth disseuer ; 

where- euer he aproches, he will take place, 
good hord ! bring vs to thy blisse, there to remaine 
for euer ; 
9C ifor heere we be sure to Hue but a space. 


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 

' Guisnes. Gasconie map be Gascoinc. 
* One stroke only for m in the MS. — F. 


Cfte mitt broUuit mnyli ' 

This is but a torn and tattered copy of one of the most exquisite 
pieces of late Mediseval 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. 

Men com- 


llIGHT & noe wronge, these men amonge, [iiigo420] 
plain that, ^^ ^^^j ^.qj^^^^ ^qq CcmplaiTie, 

affirming this, what a thing itt is 
4 of a labour spent in vaine 

[To love them well ; for never a dele ^ 
They love a man agayne ;] 
^l°iu to wiii'^ for Ictt a man doe what he can 

8 their fiavor to obtaine, 

a woman s 

' Prioi>'s Poems, Vol. I. p. 160. This Copy, and several of them transpos'd. 

is a very imperfect and mutilated Copy. —P. The copy helow 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 


[From the Balliol MS. 354, marked Arch. P. 1. 6.] 

1 for late a ma« do Mhat he can, 

* Be it right, or wronge, Thes [leaf 210&] ther favowre to attayn, 

men a-monge yet, yf a newe to them pursue, 

on wymen do co?Hplayn ; ther ferste trew lover than 

afferniyng this, how that it is labowreth for nowght ; for irom her 

a labowrf spent in vayn thowght 

to lovo them wellc ; for ncucr a dele » he is a banysshed man. 
they love a man a-gayu : 




& if a new to thorn prrsno, 

the ffirst true loiicr then 
he labours for nought,— fur from his thought,— 

for he is a banished man. 

wlion a now 
loviT COlllCS 
the oil! one 
is turned off. 




' And I say not nay, — but as you said, 

itt is both -written and sayd, — 
but womens flfaith, who soe sayth, 

[is] right vtterly decayde ; 
yett neuertheles, right good wittncsse 

in this cause may be Layd : 
that they ^ Lone true, & doe continue, 

reccords the nutt-browne ^ maide : 
ITor when her loue came her to prouc, 

he come to make his moane ; '^ 
^ he sayd, " alas ! thus stands the case, 

I am a banished maun. 

But though 
some say 

faith is 

yet the 
Maid's love 

Her lover 
came to 
prove her ; 

said : " I am 
a banished 

' I say not nay, but that alle day 

it is both wreten & said 
that woman's feyth, Is, as who soyth, 

alle vtturly decayde ; 
But neu(T//«elcsse, Right good witues 

In this case myght be layde, 
that they love trew, & contenewe, 

Rocorde the Nutbrown niayde, 
■which, whaH 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 discvsse 

•what was alk' tho maner 
Betwen them two : we wiUc also 

telle alle the payn in fere 
that she was in. Now I begyn, 

so that ye me answere; 
■whcrfor, alle ye that present be, 

I pr«y you, geve an ere. 

I am the knyght ; I com by nyglit, 

as secrete as I can ; 
•• saying, " alas ! thus stondith the caas, 

I am a banysshed man." 



And I yo!<r wille for to fulfille 

In this wille not Refuse ; 
trustyng to shew. In word/s fewe 

tJiat men have an ylle use 
(To thcr own shame) wymen to blame, 

and cavselesse them accuse : 
therfor to you I answere now, 

alle wymen to excuse,— 
JVIyn own hart dere, wil/« you wliat 
chero ? 

I pr«y yovi, telle mo a-non ; 
ifor, in my mynd, of alle mankynd 

1 lovo but you alon. 

2 MS. they that.— F. 
s MS. browmc.— F. 

♦ ruclla and S(i\iyre arc at the right sides of the ^IS.— P. 



I've clone a 
deed for 
■which I 

or flee 

like an 

to the woods. 
I'm a 




' " ffor itt stall deth soe thai a decde is doc 

•wherby great harme may growe ; 
my destynye is ffor to dye 

a death, I trowe, 
or else ffor to fflee ; tlie one must bee. 

none other reed I know 
but to Withdraw my-selfe Like an outlawe, 

& betake me to my bowe. 
& therfore, adew, my owne hart trew, 

they best way tliai I can 
is thai I to the greenwood goe, 

my selfe a banished man." 

The Maid 
laments the 
shortness of 
her bliss. 

But she'll 
not part 
from her 

2 " Alas ! " shee said, " what is all this worlds blisse ? 
itt changeth as doth the Moone. 
the sumiHcrs day in the Lusty may 
40 is darke before the noone. 

I heare you say ffarwell. nay ! nay ! 

wee will not depai-t soe soone. 
but why say you soe, or whither will you goe ? 
44 alas ! what haiie you done ? 

' It stondith so ; a dede is* doo 

wherof gret harme shalle grow : 
My destynye ys for to dyo 

A shamfulle deth, I trow ; 
Or ellzs to flee : the on mvste be. 

Non other way I know, 
But to -Withdraw as an owtlawo [leaf 211] 

And take me to my bow. 
wlicrfor, a-dewo, Myn own hart trew ! 

Non other rede I can : 
ffor I mvste to The gren-wode go, 

alon, a banysshed man. 

■^ O lorde ! what is this world«5 blis, 

that changith as the raone? 
the somers day In lusty may 

Is darke befFore the none. 
I here you say, flFarewelle : nay, nay ! 

we departe not so sone. 
why say ye so ? vfheth^r wille ye go ? 

abas ! what haue ye done ? 
allc my welfare To sorow & care 

shuld chauMge, yf ye wore gon ; 
ffor, in my mynde, of allc mankyud 

I love but you alon. 

MS. it.— F. 



for all my welfare into sorrow & care 
wold eonie if tltai you were gone ; 
for in my mind, of all mankind 
48 I loue but you alone." 

She loves but 
him alone. 

I can but beleeue this wold you grceue, 
& somewhatt you soe straine ; ^ 

Her lover 
tells her 


' I can beleve, i Ishalle you greve, 

and su??cwliat you dystreyne ; " 
but, afterward, jouv paynes harde 

■Wit/an a day or twayn 
sh.allc sone aslukc ; & ye slialle take 

Conforte to you a-gayn. 
why shuld you owght? for, to take 

yowr laijowrc \rere in vayn. 
and thus I doo ; and p?'ay you to, 

as hartely as I can ; 
ifor I mrste to th(t gren-wodo go, 

alon, a banysshed man. 


Now, sith that yc haue shewed to me 

the secrete of yoz(r mynde, 
I shalle be plaj-n to you a-gayn, 

l)-ke as yo shalle me fynde. 
sith it is so, that ye willc go, 

I w'illc not bide bchyndc, 
shalle it neucr be said, the nvtbrown 

was to here love vnkynde. 
make you Rody, for so am I, 

alle-thowgh it were anon ; 
ffor, in [my] mynd, of alk- mankynd 

I louc but you a-lon. 


Yet I j'ou Rede to take good hede 

what me« viWXc thynke & say : 
of yong, of olde, liit sliallc be told, 

tliat ye be gon a-way, 
yoj<r wanten willr for to fulfills, 

in grenwodc you to play; 
and that yc myght for yo«r delite 

No lengar make delay, 
rather thaw ye shuld thus for nie 

be called a niyste woiiian, 


yet wold I to The grenwode go, 
alon, a banysshed man. 

PUELLA. [leaf 211^1 

Thowgh it lie songe of olde & yonge, 

that I shuld be to blame, 
Thers be tho charge, That speke so large 

In hurtyng of my name : 
ffor I willf prove. That feythfullc love 

hit is deuyoyed of shame ; 
In yoz<r distresse and hevynesse. 

To parte wit/* you, the same : 
to sbewe alle tho that do not so, 

trew lovers ar they non ; 
ffor, in my mynd, of alle mankynd 

I love but you alon. 


I cownsaillc you, Reme?;«bre how, 

hit is no maydyns lawe, 
No-thyng to dowte, but to renne owt 

to wode with an owtlawe. 
ifor ye mvsto iher, In yoifr hond bero 

a bowo Redy to drawe, 
&, as a thcff, thus mvst ye leve. 

Ever In drede & awe ; 
wherby to you Gret harm myght grow : 

yet hade I lever than, 
that I [had] to The grenwod go, 

alon, a banysshed num. 


I say not na}', but as yo say, 

yt is no maydyns lore; 
but love may make 3Ie to for-sake, 

as I haue sayd beffore, 
to on foto, To hunte & shote 

to get us mete in store ; 
ffor so that I yowr company 

may haue, I aske no more: 



of the hnnl- 

have to 
with him, 

and says 
he'll go alone 
to the 

She answers 
that as she's 
shared his 
joy, she'll 
share his 





^ tlic tliornye Avayes, tlie clecpe valleys, 

the liaile, ffrost, snow, & raine ; 
ffor dry & weete, fFor cold & lieate, 

wee must Lye on the plaine ; 
no other house [be] vs aboue, 

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, 

my selfe, a banished man." 


• Shee sayes, " wt'th you I haue been p«i-tencr. 
w/th you in loy' and blisse ; 
I will take alsoe paH of jouv woe, 
endure, as reason itt is ; 

ffrom whifli to parte, it makytli myharte 

as colde as any ston ; 
for, in my myncle, of allc mawkynd 

I love but you alone. 


ffor an owtlawe This is the lawo, 

that men hym take and bynde, 
■v/ithovrt 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 mervaylo : ffor littille avayle 

were in your cownselle than : 
wherfor I wille to the grenwod go, 

alon, a banysshed man. 


Right wellc know ye, that wymoH bo 

but feble for to fight ; 
No woma?;hede it is in-dede 

to be bold 8 as a knyght : 
yet, in suche fere yf that ye were 

with ennemyes day or nyght, 
I wold w(t//stond, with bow in honde, 

To helpc you with my myght, [leaf 21'2] 
and you to save ; as wymoi liavc 

from duth [men] many one : 

for, in my mynd, of all^; nia?;kynd 
I love but you alon. 



Yet take good hede ; for cwr?- I dredo 

that ye cowld not susteyn 
" the thorny wayes, the dope A'aleyes, 

the snowe, the froste, tlie Kayn, 
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 belcve ; 

& ye wold gladly than 
that I had to the grenwode goo, 

a-lon, a banysshed man. 



' Sith I haue here ben partynore 

v,ith you yoyo & blisse, 
I mvstc also parte of yo«r woo 

Elndui'e, as Reason is : 
yet am 1 sure of on pleasure ; 

&, shortly, it is this : 
that, wlier ye be, me scmeth, p(7;-dc, 

I coAvld not fare a-mysso. 
W(t/;owt more spcche I you beseche 

tliat wc were sliortly gon ; 
for. in my myiul, of allt' mankynd 

1 love but you alon. 



but 1 sliokl be sure of one pleasure, At any rate 

she shall 

thai is shortlye tliis, see Wm, 

wlieresoeuer you be, tliai I you see, 
68 I cold not ffare amisse. 

from home to depa/'t will make my hart 

as cold as any stone ; 
ffor in my mind, of all mankind 

72 I loue but you alone." anclsheloves 

him alone. 

''But think, 

It'll make 
jou wan. 


' " But you must consider, sweet hart, when you 
come thither 
and havie List to dine, 

,1 . J j7 J. j-i we shall have 

there is no meate titat w^ee can gett, ^o meat, 

76 neither ale, beere, nor w^ine, 

nor sheetes cleane to lye betweene, "^ sheets. 

made neither of threed nor twinn, [page 42i] 
Nor noe other house but leaues & brouse, 
80 to couer your head and mine.^ 
my hart sweet, this ill dyett, 

I know will make thee to Looke wan ; 
therfore will I to the greenwood goe I'u go to the 

woods by 

84 my selfe, a banished man." myself." 

^ " But among w'ild deere," shee said, " such an "Oh.j-ou'u 

shoot deer 

archer for us ; 

as men say tliat you bee, 

17 whcrfor I willc to the gren'^-od go, 
[sQUYUE.] a-lon, a banysshed man. 

' Iff ye go thydci-, ye co>,sider, 2 ^j ^^ j^ MS.— F. 

wlian ye have luste to dyne, 
tlior shalle no mete bo for to geto, 18 

Nether here, ale, ne wyno ; [vuki.i.a.] 

no shotes elen, to hiy hetwen, ' Amonge the wildo dere, suche an arcl 

Made of threde and twyne ; as men say ('Artt ye he, 

noil otlier hows, hut levis & howes, may not fayHc of good vytayllf, 

to Cover yo(n- lu(h' & iiiyne ; wlior is .so gret plente : 

h)o, niyn hart swi te, this ilh' dyett & wat^r ek're of tha Rivere 

shukl make you pah' and wan ; siiallc lie fullr swetc to nie ; 




I'll drink 

and provide 
a bed. 

for I love 
but you 



you sliold not fFaile ffor good vittaile 

■\vliere is such gi'eat plentye ; 
tlie water cleere w/tliin the riuer 

shold be full sweete to me ; 
I cold endure well, I am sure,* 

in health as you may see ; 
& a bedd or 2, before I goe, 

I will prouide anon ; 
fFor in my mindc,' aboue all mankind 

I loue but you alone." 

"Ah, but 
there's worse 
to do. 

You must 
cut your 

shorten your 

and start 
with me 

for I'm a 


^ " Nay Loue, thore you m.ust doe more : 
If you will goe w^th mee, 
you must shorten yowr haire aboue yo?(r eare, 
100 & yoMr kirtle ^ aboue jouv knee, 
ffor to Withstand, witb bow in hand, 

JOUV enemyes, if neede bee ; 
ffor this same nigbt, before it be day-light, 
104 to the woods tliai I will fflee ; 
& 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." 

Vfiih which in hele* I shallc Eight wellf" " 

Endure, as ye shalle see ; 
and, or we go, a bedde or two 

I can provide anon ; 
ffor, in my mynde, of alle mawkynd 

I love but you alone. 

• ninde in MS.— F. 

SQUYRE. [leaf 212i] 

* Loo yet, bofforc, ye mvst do more, 

yf yo willc goo wit// mo : 
as, cute yo?/r here vp by youv ero, 
■yoKV kyrtyll by yowr knee ; 

w/t/; 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 fulfiUe, 

do it as shortly as ye can ; 
Els wille I to the grenwode go, 

alone, a banysshed man. 

^ Kyrtle is not upper petticoat, but our 
modern gown, a waist and petticoat. A 
kyrtle and mantle completed a woman's 
dress. Crit. Eev. Jan. 1795, p. 49. — 

* Health.— F. 




• " E;iea now," shea saies, " He doe more ffor you 
tlien belonj^s to woinan-lioocr^ ; 
He shorten my liaire, a bow to beare, 
112 to slioote in time of ueede. 

my owne deare mother ! aboue all other 

of you I haue much dread ; 
but yett, adew ! I must insue ; 
116 '^ such IFortune does me lead, 
therefore m.ak;e you ready now 

as ffast as euer you can ; ^ 
ffor in my mind, of all mankind 
120 I loue but you alone." 

" I'll go 
with j'oa at 

Dear mother, 
adieu ! 

My love, 
make ready ! 

I love but 
you alone." 


3 " 'Noe, not soe, you shall not goe ! 

ffor He tell you now as why : 
your habitf* itt is to be light, 
124 my loue, I will espye ; 

for Hkwise as you say to me. 

Likewise you shall ffind,° 
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. 

change soon. 

I'll go to tae 




' I shalle as now do more for you 

than longith to womanhede ; 
to sliorte niyn here, a bowo lo bore, 

to shote in tyme of nc<lo. 
my swcto nioder, boiforo alle odcr 

for you I have moste drede : 
but now, adowo ! I nivst c■n:^ue, 

• whor fortune doth nie ledc. 
alle this make ye: Now lat vs Hce ; 

fho day co/wincth vpon ; '' 
ffor, in my mynd, of allc niaiikyndo 

1 love but you a-lon. 

- //rrd wanted, to rhyme with ttcide. 
— Uyce. 


'Nay, nay, not so ; ye shallc not go, 

& I shallc telle you whye, 
jour appetite is to be light 

of love, I welle espye : 
for, like as ye liaue said to mo, 

In likewysc hardely "= 
yc wolile answcrc who-so-ouer it were, 

In way of Companye. 
It is said of olde, Hon whot, sono coldc 

& so is a \voma». 
ffor I mvsto to the grenwode goo, 

alone, a banysshed man. 

* appetite. — P. 



" You shall 
have no 
cause to say 
that of me. 

Haven't T, a 
loved you, 
a poir 
squire ? 

And I'll die 
with you, 

1 love but 
you alone." 


" GiiF you 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 ; 
& [thougb] thai you [know] of anceytrye 
136 a Barrens daughter I bee, 

& you haue proued how [I] haue loued ^ 

a squier^ of a Low degree, 
& shall doe, whatsoeuer doth beffall, 
140 to die With him anon ; 

& in my mind, of all mankind 
I loue but you alone." 

"What! I, 
an outlaw, 
mate with a 
daughter ! 

God forbid ! 


reproach me 
with having 

Let me go 

^ " A Barrons child to be beguiled ! 
144 that were a cursed deede. 

& to become fifellow 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 thai I can, 

is, lett me vnto the iForrest goe 
my selfe, a banished man." 


' yf ye take hede, it is no nede 

such wordjs to say to me ; 
iFor ofte ye prayd, and long assayed, 

Or I you loved, parde : 
& thowgh that I of avncetrye * 

a barons dowgliter be, 
yet haue ye p;-ovod how I ye loved,'' 

a sf^uyro of lowe degro ; 
and ever shallr, what-so befallc ; 

to dye tliorcfor a-non ; 
ffor, in my mynd, of alle niawkynd 

I love but you a-lon. 

* The MS. hus four strokes for uL- 


^ A barons child to be begiled ! 

It were a cursed dede ! 
To be felowe with an owtlawe! 

almyghty god forltedc ! 
yet better were, the pore sqiiyer 

alon to foreste yede, 
than ye shuld say an-ofhcr day, 

that, liy my curst'd Rede, 
ye were betrayde : AVherefor, good mayd, 

tlie best Ecde thai I can, [jeaf 213] 
ys, thai I to the grenwod go, 

alon, a banysslied man. 




" Let this out-fFall, I neuer sliall 
156 of thai tiling you vpbraid ; 

but if you goe & leaue me soe, 

then I am quite betraid. 
Remember how that itt is,* 
1 60 you are not as you said : 

you are vnkind to leaue behind 

youv 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." 

[page 422] 

" \VTiatever 
I'll never 
upbraid you, 

except you 
leave me. 

I am your 
love, and 
must die i£ 
you go. 

I love but 
you alone." 


2 " Why, but if you 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 were, 
172 I dare this well auowo. 

betw[i]xt you both I sliold be wroth ^ 

W('th eche other, as I trowe ; 
itt is my ease to Hue [in] peace ; 
176 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 gob 
tlie''e a 
maid, whom 
I love better 
than j'ou: 

I'll go to the 




What-cvcr LoftiUr, I iieiirr shallc 

of tliis tliyiif; )-{)U o-vvt-l)r;iydf ; 
But yf yii go, t*c li've nic .so, 

tbaw luiuo y(; me lietraydc. 
Ecmcwibrc you wellc, how thai yc dilc ; " 

for, yf yo bo as ye said, 
ye were viikyiid, to love iiic lieliyiid, 

yo«r love, the. Nutbrown niaydo. 
Truste [nie] truly, (hut 1 t^liallc dye 

soiic uftcr ye be ffon ; 
Hop, \n my niynd, of all miuikyud 

I luve but you ulon. 



2 If that you went, ye shuld Repent ; 

for in thi' foreste nowo 
I liave purveydc hk^ of a niaydc, 

whom I love more than you ; 
i\n-()ther more fayre, tha« eucr ye were, 

I <lare it wells avowe ; 
and of 3'ou lioth, Kcho wille bo wroth '' 

vfiih other, as I trowe. 
It wore myn eas to love in peas ; 

.so willr I, yf I ean ; 
wherefor I wilh' lo the greuwod goo, 

alon, a banysshed num. 



" Never 
though you 
have a 
I still am 

I'll be soft 
and kind to 

and be your 
second love, 
wlien you 
want one. 
I love vou 


• " Why, tlio in the wood I vnderstood 
180 that you had a paramoure, 

yett all thai right nought remoues my thought, 

for still I will be yours, 
shee shold me ffind both soft & kind, 
184 & curteous euery houre ; 

gladd jouY will for to ffulfiU ; * 

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 

Be glad, 

believe not 
what I have 

I am Lord 
land's son, 
and not 

2 " ]\[y owne deere loue ! I see and prouo 
192 tliai you be kind and true ! 
in maid & wiffe, in all my liffe 

the best thai euer I knew ! 
Be merry & glad, be no more sa[d], 
196 the case is altered now ; 

^ be not dismaid [at] what I haue said 

to you since I begann. 
thus you haue woone the Erie of Westmoreland sone,'' 
200 & not a banished man." 


' Thowgli in tlia wode i vndej-stode 

yo had a paramo wre, 
allc this may nowght remeve my thowght, 

but that I wille lie yoKr : 
& she shalle me fynd softe and kynd, 

& Ourteys eucz-y owre ; 
Glad to fulfille allc that she wille," 

Comaund mo to my powers : 
flfor had yc, loo ! an huiidretli mo, 

yot woldo I be that on ; 
flfor, m my mynd, of allc mawkynd 

1 love but you a-lon. 



* Myn o-\vn dere love ! I se thee, prcvo 

that ye be kyude & trewe ; 
of mayde & wyf, In allc my lyff, 

the best that ever I knew. 
Be mery and glade ; be no more sade ; 

The case is chawngod newe ; 
for it were Rowth, that for yoin* trowth," 

that ye shuld have cawse to Kewo. 
be not dysniayde, what-so-cucr I said 

to you, whan I be-gan ; 
I willc not to the grenwodo go ; " 

I am no banysshed man. 



1 "These tydings to me are gladder," sliee saies, 

" then tho I were a Queene, 
If I were sure itt wold eudare ; 
204 but itt is often seene 

men will break p/'omise [the] 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." 

- " You shall not neede soe fi'ar to dreed, 

ffor I will not disparishe ^ 
[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 ringc ; 
220 in way of Marryage 

I will you take, and Ladye make, 
as shortlye as euer I cann. 

a banished 

"I'm gladder 
than if I 
were Queen. 

But are not 
you beguil- 
ing me y 

If you leave 


I am lost ; 

for I love 

but you 

" No, truly, 

land is mine. 

I'll wed you 

as soon as I 

MAYD. [leafl'lW] 

' Thes tydyingis be more gladder to me, 

than to bo made a quene, 
yf I were sure they shuld eudure : 

but it it) often seen, 
yrhon nmn wille broke promyso, they 

the word/s on the splene.* 
ye shape som wyle me to begile, 

& stele from me, 1 wene : 
than were i/u; caas wors tha« it was, 

& I more woo-be-gou : 
ffor. In my mynd, of allc mawkynd 

1 love but you alun. 


■^ Ye shalk not node further to dredo ; 

I wille not disparage f 
you, (god defende !) Sith ye descende 

of so gret a lynago. 
Now vnde/'stond; to Woslmorelond, 

whicli is niyu herytago, 
I wille you bryng ; & with a rynge 

by way of maryago 
I wille you take, & lady make, 

as shortly as I can : 
Tiian haue ye woiine an erles soune, 

& not a banysshed man. 

• On asuaJeu.— U. UiU. 

t dispanigo. AruuklL'. — i\ 



I'm not a 


thus hauo you woono the Eric of wostmorelands 
and not a banished man." 

So you fee 

women are 


Let not men 



Men want 
their love ; 

but I shall 
love God 


2 Heere you may see thai women bee 

of loue meeke, kind, and stable, 
lett neuer men reproue them then, 
228 nor call them varyable,* 

but rather pray to god thai they 

to men may be comfortable, 
thai haue proued such as they loued, 
232 iff they be charitable. 

but men wold thai women shold 

be kind to them eche one, 
yett I had rather, god to obay, 
2.36 & seruc but him alone."* 

' sonme in MS.— F. 

* Here may ye see, that women be 

In lore, mcke, kynd, & stable ; 
latt never man Reprere them thau, 

yf they be Charytable," 
but Jiathcr Tpray god that we may 

to them be confortable; 
God su?;(tyme provith, such as he lovith, 

yf they be * charytable. 


for sith men wold that women shuld 

be meke to them echoue ; 
moche more awght they to god obey, 

and scrue but hym alon. 

Explicit, quod R\chard Hille, 
here endith the nutbrown mayd. 

This last stanza is not in Prior's 
Edition. — P. 

^ From the concluding Words of tliis 
hist stanza it should seem t/iut the Author 
wtis a vroman. — P. 

* MS. be be.— P, 

€\)t : rode of dJnglantie:' [p»e«^23] 

Thomas. Come hitlier, 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. 

This is one of the many pieces that compose the Boswortli 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 liis 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 Song on the Lmding bm-y, written in Henry 8"."'' lifetime. 
& Victory of King Jlenry 7'.'', witii the K'.B. This song is quoted in Beimni'.' 

hrave Conduct of the Uaillil" of yhvcws- Monti. Tho". p. 397.-1'. 


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 

Thys yeare [runs the MS.] in the monthe of August 1485, Henry 
Earle of Ryehemoonde came out of Bryttane towards England wyth a 
small companye & landyd at My Iford Haven in Wales nygh Pcmbrooke 
the 7th daye of August, having help Inoughe in England & so marchyng 
forward being stayed at no place untyll he came to the towne of 
Shrosberie, where the gates were shutt egainst by him, & the 
pullys let downe : so the Earle's messengers came to the gate to say 
the Welsh gate, commandynge them to open the gates to theyre right 
Kynge, and Maister Myttoon made answere being head bayley, & a 
stoute royste gentilman sayinge that he knew no kynge, but only Kynge 
Richard, whose lyffetenants he & hys fellows were ; & before he 
should enter there, he should goe ouer hys belly : meaninge thereby 
that he would be slayne to the grounde, and so to roon over hym 
before he cntird, and that he protestyd vehemently e uppon the Ofche 
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 to^^^^e 
nor none therein, biit to go to trye hys right, & that he promysed 
further that he w^ould 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 Lys othe ; and so passing forthe & marching forwarde he 
came to Bosworth, whar the Battel was fought betwyxt hym & Ky age 
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 
connuon occuirencej that a statute was passed in the eleventh 



year of Henry the iSeventL's reigu declaring tliat " 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 Anton}^, 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): 

efOa TToKvs (r<pt(n fx6x6os iirei''oiaiv irvx^T), 
bir-niTipos Kara vwTa Kafioi. (paos r;eAioio • 
jSpiT; i-L^ya 5' avBpa ■Kap-i]Xv6is, & XloAvSevKes, 
/3oAA€T0 S' a.KTLVi(Tcnv airav 'A/xvkoio npoauirov. 

ThEOUGHOUT : a garden greene & gay, 

a seemlye sight itt was to see 
how fflowers did flourish fresh and gay, 
4 & birds doe sing Melodiouslye 

In a gay 

grew gay 

in the midst of a garden there sprange ' a tree 

w/(/ch tree was of a mickle price, 
& there A^pon sprang tlie rose soc redd, 
8 the goodlyest tJiat euer sprange on rise.^ 

and in the 
midst was 
arose sored, 
(Edward V.) 

this rose was ffaire, ffresh to behold, 

springing wt'th many a royall Lance ; 
a crowned King, w/th a crowne of gold 
12 ouer England, IreLand, and of ffrance. 

tlie King of 
and France. 

' tliis garden sprang. — P. 

■^ bough. — F. 



A T?oar 



came in and 


it down, 

then came in a beast men call a bore,' 

& he rooted this garden vpp and downe,^ 
by the seede of the rose he sett noe store, 
IC but afterwards itt wore the crowne. 

and buried 
its branches. 

hee tooke the branches of this rose away,^ 

and all in sunder did them teare ; 
& he buryed them vnder a clodd of clay, 
20 swore they shold neuer * bloome nor beare. 

But an Eagle 



bore the 


to its nest at 


then came in an Egle gleaming gay, 

of all ffaii^e birds well worth the best ; 
he took the branche of the rose away, 
24 & bore itt to Latham ^ to his nest. 

but now is this rose out of England exiled, 

this certaine truth I will not I.aine ^ ; 
but if itt please you to sitt a wliile, 
28 He tell you how the rose came in againe. 

ATid the Rose 
came in 
a{?aiu at 

att Milford hauen he entered in ^ ; 

to claime his right, was his delight ; 
he brought the blew bore in W(*th him, 
32 to encounter w/tli the bore soc whitc.^ 

' Cf. the stanza quoted in Mrs. Mark- 
ham : 
" The Cat, the Eat, and Lovell the dog 

Ruled all England imder the Hog." 
This poem, written by Wm. Col- 
lingborue, is quoted in Lai'wood's His- 
tory of Signboards, p. 116, where it says 
Ilichard III.'s cognisance was a hoar, 
pas.sant, argent. Blue Boar = Earl of 
Oxford. See Hist. Signb., p. 116. — 
Skeat. The Earls of Oxford and Pem- 
broke were two of the chief couiniander.s 
in Henry VII.'s army. The deeds of the 
latter (Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, 
afterwards Duke of ]5edford), and cf the 
famous Sir Wm. Brandon, flic Standard 

Bearer, do not appear to be commemo- 
rated in this poem. — Gr. E. Adams. 

- And there he rooted up and down. 

^ clean awa3\ — P. 

* and .... ne'er. — P. 

' See " Bosworth ffeilde," 1. 347.— F. 

* conceal. — P. 

' See " Scotish flfeilde," 1. 8, vol. i. 
p. 212 ; "Bosworth ffeilde," 1. 50, below; 
" Ladye Bessiye," below, 1. 809.— F. 

*• The blue boar wa.s borne by the 
Earl of Oxford, who is named in line 71. 
Eichard lll.'s cognisance was a boar 
passant, argent. — Skcat. 




tlie[n] ' a messenger the rose did send 

to the Egles nest, & bidd him hye ; 
" to my flfather ^ the old Egle I doe [me] comend,^ 

his aide, and helpe I eraue'' speedy lye." 

and sent to 

the olil 
Eagle to 
help him 

saics, " I desire my father att my ^ cominge 

of men and ^ 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^ thold Egle, 

he kneeled him downe vpon his knee, 
saith, " well greeteth you my Jjord the rose, 
44 he hath sent you greetings here by me. 

The Rose's 
tells the old 

" safe ffrom the seas Christ hath him ^ sent, 

now he is entered England w/thin." 
" let vs thanke god," the old Egle did say, 
48 "he shall be the fflower of all his kine ! 

He thanks 

" 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 thinsrs att Ms owne lust." 

and wishes 
the Kose God 


then S/r Rice ap Thomas drawes wales w/th him 

a worthy sight itt was to see, 
how the welchmen rose wholy w/th him, 

& shogged ^ him to Shi'ewsburye. 

The "Welsh- 
men carry 
the Rote 

' tl)0, or then.— P. 

* send nie the loue of tlio Lo/v^ 

Stanley ! 
he niiirryeil my nii^tlicr, a Lady 
Bosworthffcildc, 1. o9-G(), below.— F. 

• v>v coninunil. — T. 

* his aid I naist crave— P. 

* I desire of my l-'atlier at my. — P. 
« Both men &. - P. 

' there. -P. 

* Apparently altered from "mini" in 
]M,S.- P. 

" moved. See vol. i. p. '218, note ^. — 



Mitton is 


Att tliai time was bay lye in' SlirewRbuiye 
one Master Mitton'^ in the towne. 

the gates were strong, & he mad them ffast, 
& the portcullis he lett downe ; 

declares no 
one shall 

& throng a garrett of the walls, 

oner severne these words said hee, 
" att these gates no man enter shall." 
64 but he kept him out a night & a day.^ 

but on 



from Sir 



lets in the 
Ked Rose, 

who stops 
Lord Oxford 
killing him. 


these w^ords Mitton did '^ Erie Richmond tell ; 

I am sure the Chronicles of this will not Lye ; 
but when leifres cam.e ^ from S/r William Stanley of 
the holt castle, 

then the gates were opened presentlye. 

then entred this towne the noble Lord 

the Erie Richmond, the '' rose soe redd, 
the Erie of Oxford with a sword 
72 wold haue smitt of the bailiffes head. 

" but hold jour hand," saies Erie Richmond, 

" ffor his loue that dyed vpon a tree ! 
fFor if wee begin to head ^ so soone, [page 424] 

76 in England wee shall beare no degree." 


asks Mitton 
■why he 

" Because 
Richard is 
my king." 

" what offence haue I made thee, " sayd Erie 
"//iftt thou Kept me out of my towne? " 
" I know no King," sayd Mitton then, 
80 " but Richarc^ now that weares the crowne." 

' of.— P. 

2 Maistpr Mitton.— P. 

' be kept out by night oi' clay. — P. 
Tho man misses the whole point of the 
story : the Mayor said, I have sworn tliat 
no one sliall enter this town exeeyit over 
my hody: on which Henry proposed that 

he should lie down and let him step over 
him ; which ho did. — Skeat. 

< he did.— P. 

* cane in MS. — F. 

^ tliat.— P. 

' A.-S. hcufdiaii, to behead. — F. 




" why, wliat wilt tliou say," said Erie Richmonde, 
" when I liaue put King Richard downe ?" 

" why, then He be as time to you, my Lord, 
after the time that I am sworne." 

" But wlion 
I put 
down ? " 

" Why then 
I'll be true 
to you." 

"were itt not great pitty," sayd ' Erie Riclrmond, 
" that such a man as this shold dye ? " 

such Loyall service by him done, 
the cronickles of this will not I^ye.^ 

" thou shalt not be harmed in any case." 

he pardone[d] him presentlye. 
they stayd not past a night & a day,^ 
92 but towards newport ■* did they hye. 

So Mitton 
is pardoned. 


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 

& said, " Cheshire & Lancashire, welcome to me." p*''!^ 

. ' ' the Rose, 

but now is a bird ^ of the Egle taken^ ; 
ffrom the white bore he cannot fflee. 
therfore the old Egle ^ makes great moano, 
100 & i^rayes to god most certainly : 

but the 
young Eagle 
is taken, 

and the old 
one prays 

" stedfast god, verament," he .did say — 

" 3 pc/'Sons in one god in Trinytyc ! 
saue my sonne, the young Egle, this day 
104 ffrom all ffalse craft & trecherye ! " 

to pave Ilia 

' tlip, or Kichmond said. —P. 

'' will not belye.— T. 

^ In the wyle cop, Shrews! Jury, is an 
olil houso, lately a tiuiimn's sliop (and, 
perhaps, it is so still) wlierc cither 
Hoirtj VII. or Ukh<(r(l III. is said to 
have lodt^cd not loiif^ lief'orc the liallic oi 
I'osworth. — Skcat. 

* Newport in Sliropshiro. — P, 

•'' Qu. At, or perhaps aliout. — P. 

" Lord Strange, tlie eldest son ul' Lord 
Stanh^y.— a. E. A. 

' tane.— P. 

** Lord Stanley, afterwards niado Karl 
of Derby.— G. E. A. 




The blue 
Boar (Lord 
leads the 
van ; 


then the blew bore ' the vanward had : 
he was both warry and wise of Avitt ; 

the right hand of them he tooke, 
the sunn & wind of them to gett. 

the Eagle, 


then the Egle fibllowed fast vpon his pray ; 

with 2 sore dints he did them smyte. 
the Talbott^ he bitt wonderous sore, 
112 soe well the vnicorne ■* did him quite. 

Hart's head. 

red -jackets, 


& then came in the harts head ^ ; 

a worthy sight itt was to see, 
they lacketts that were of white & redd, 
116 how they Laid about them lustilye. 

and win the 


The white 



III.) is slain. 

but now is the ffeirce ffeeld foughten & ended, 

& the white bore there Lyeth slaine ; 
& the young. Egle is preserued, 
120 & come to ^ his nest againe. 

The garden 

but now this garden fflourishes fireshly & gay, 

With ffragrant fflowers comely of hew; 
& garduers itt doth maintainc ; 
124 I hope they will proue lust & true. 

Our King is 
the Rof^e. 

God love 

our ^ing, he is the rose soe redd, 

that now does fflourish ffresh and gay. 
Confound his fibes, Jjord, wee beseeche, 
128 & loue his grace both night & day ! 


' The badge of John, Earl of Oxford. 
— G. E. Adams. 

2 And with.— P. 

' The Talbot was the badge of the 
family of Talbot, Earls of Shrewsbury. 
The person referred to is doubtless Sir 
Gilbert Talhnt of Grafton (uncle of the 
4th Earl, then a minor), who commandi^d 
the right wing of Henry's army. — G. E.A. 

'' The unicorn's head was the crest of 
8ir John Savage of Eock Savage, co. 
Chester, one of Henry's principal com- 
manders at Bosworth. — G. E. A. 

^ Probably alluding to those in the 
arms of Sir Wm. Stanley (the brother to 
Lord Stanley), who had the rearguard. — 
G. E. A. 

* unto. — P. 


€i)t pore man $c tin ^mge: 

This is a Kent version of the ballad which ]\Iartin Parker issued 
as a Northumberland one in 16-iO, with the title " The King and 
a jpoove 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 & Nortliern 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 jNIartin Parker to the original authorship of this produc- 
tion may be open to question. Perhaps he merely modernized 
what he found already in print, but too antique to jjlease the 
delicate palates of the customers for such articles in his day, and 
upon the strength of this attached his initials, which, as will be 
seen, occiu* 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 
legularly hooked up by some brambles, " We call them 'ere 
Itiirycrt^ down here, we do. Wlien they once gets hold of 'ee, 
tlicy don't let 'ee go witJMtut tiikin' a bit out of 'eo." Tlie 

o 2 


profession has not the credit of working at law for notliino-, 
whatever it may do at Early English, &e. &c. Langland says 
in his Vinion (p. 5, 1. 849, Vernon Text, ed. Skeat) : 

Jjer houe]? an Hundret • in Houues of selk, 

Seriauns hit seme}? • to semen atte Barre ; 

Pleden for pons • and poii«des }>e lawe, 

Not for lone of rr lord • vn-losej? heore lippes ones. 

Jjow mihtest beter mete« )>e Myst * on Maluerne hiilles, 

ben geten a Mom of heore MoiiJ> • til nioneyo weore schewed. 

The rebels nnder Wat Tyler " killed snch judges and lawyers 
as fell into their hands" {llacfarlane, iv. 183); and the Scotch 
proveibs — " Law licks np a','' " Nae plea is the best plea," " Law's 
costly; tak a pint and gree," &c. {HislojJ, p. 308)— bear witness 
to the general modern feeling on the subject. 

The punishment of a rapacious lawyer has always been a 

popular theme, and the present ballad tells how a poor man who 

dwelled in Kent paid out the lawyer who tried to fleece him. 

He went to his king — the popular remedy for men alone, as 

ballads and stories show ; the popular remedy for crowds, as Wat 

Tyler's rebellion shows — and begged to be let off the forfeiture 

of his lease that his felling five of his landlord's, the king's, ash 

trees to build his house with had worked, and of which forfeiture 

the lawyer wanted to take advantage. Needless to say that the 

king forgives his Kentish man, — a worthy descendant of those 

who stood up against William the Conqueror for their rights, — 

and, to punish the lawyer in a way that all may understand, bids 

the jDoor man, 

untill hee haue paid thee a lOO'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 


have seen in the Kinge and Miller and John de Reeve, on the 
countrymau*8 coming- to court. To those who "coude their 
curtesye," and were full of the flunkeyish respect of persons that 
characterises courtiers, it must have been a joke to see a proud 
porter rapped on the crown by the country clown, a nobleman 
offered fourpence for an introduction to the kiug, 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 Kiwj 
and Miller, vol. i. pp. 147-8, should be consulted. — F. 

ITT : was a pore man, he dwelled iu Kent, a poor man 

holds land of 

he payd our Kmg 5 • of rent ; the King. 

& there is a lawyer dwelt him by, A lawyer 

4 a ffault in his [lease,'] god wott ! he hath ffoiind, forfeited his 

IgQiSG bv 

" & all was for fFallino- of 5 ashe trees cutting five 

to build ine a house of my owne good ground. 

ash trees. 

" I bldd him lett me & my ground alone ^ ; He offers the 

8 to cease his selfe, if he was willinge, 
& pike no vantages out of his ^ lease ; 

& hee seemed a good ffellow, I wold ginc him -lO""" \"}n^ 

[" 40» nor 40'/ 
la wold not agree this lawer and mee, 

w/thout I wold glue him of my farme crround, The lawyer 

"^ demands 

& stand to his f^ood curtesye. •''1 some of his 

*= '' -' land. 

' lease.— p. Sec line 9.— F. » my.— F. 

- MS. aloniu. him is hem with the c ' Head 40 sl)illinge. — Skeat. 

dultml. — F. ' Tlicso aro lines 147- 50 below. — F. 



He then 
5 marks ; 

" he ' said, " nay, by liis foy, that hee wold not doe, 
16 fFor wifi'e and cliildren wold make madd warke, 
but & he wold lett him and his ground alone, 

he seemed a good ffellow, he wold giue him 6 marke." ^ 

" he said, " nay by his ffay, that wold he not doe, 
20 ffor 5 good ash trees thai he jffell." 
So the poor " then He doe as neighbors haue put me in head, 

to go to the He make a submission to the 'King my-selfe." 

but the 
refuses that 

by [that] he had gone a dayes iourney, 
24 one of his neighbors he did spye, 

" ISTeibor ! how fi'ar haue I to our King ? [page -125] 

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 dales Iourney you haue gone." 

He gets to 


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 ! " qnoth the poore man, 
40 " I tliinke yoHr 'King att me gott witt ; 
had he knowen of my cominge, 

I thinke he wold haue tarry ed yett." 

' The poor man speaks of himself in 
the third person ; or else he and fwe arc 

miseopiod for Iho / of line 151. 
^ MS. narke.— F. 



" he fFoled not for you," then said his host, 
44 "but hye you to Windsor as fast as you may ; 
& all jour costs & yo?(r charges, 

haue you no doubt but the JLiug Avill pay.'* 

the King 
will pay his 

he hath gotten a gray russett go"ttTie on his backe, 
48 & a hood well buckeled vnder his chin, 
& a longe stafTe vpon his necke, 
& he is to Windsor to our Kinge. 

soe when hee came to windsor hall, 
52 the gates were shutt as he there stood ; 

he knocket and poled w/th a great Long stafFe : 
the porter had thought hee had beene woode. 

So he goes to 



knocks at 
the gates, 

he knocket againe with, might & maine, 
56 sais, " hey hoe ! is our J^iiig w/'thin ? " 
w/th that he proffered a great reward, 
a single penny, to lett him come in. 

" I thanke you, S/r," quoth, the porter then, 
60 " the reward is soe great I cannott say nay ; 
there is a noble-man standing by, 

fBrst He goe hcare what hee will say." 

the nobleman then came to the gates, 
64 & asked him what his busines might bee : 

" nay, soft," q«oth the ffellow, " I tell thee not yett, 
before I doe the 'Khig himselfe sec ; 

itt was told me ere I came ffrom home, 
68 that gentlemens hounds eaten arrands 1)y tlie way, 

& pore curr doggs may eatc mine ' ; 

therfore I meane my ovme arrands ^ to say." 

" but & thou come in," saies the Porter then, 
72 " thy bumlile staff'o behind wee must stay." 

and offers 
the porter a 
penny to let 
him in. 

The porter 

fetches a 

who asks 
the man 
what his 
business is. 

"I'll tell the 
King myself. 






" Leave your 
staff, then." 

MS. nine.— F. 

* MS. arrand, with a tag to the (/. — F. 



"No, I 
shan't ; 

the court 
may rob 

Tlie i)Oor 
man is led 
to a noble- 

wlioiti lie 
first takes 
for the King, 

" beslirow the, Ljar," then said the pore man, 

" then may thou terme me a foole, or a worsse ; 
I know not what bankrouts bee about our, 
76 for lacke of mony wold take my pursse." 

" hold him backo," then said the noble-man, 

" & more of his speech wee will haue soone ; 
lie see how hee can a-nswer the matter 
80 as soone as the naatch att bowles is done." 

the porter tooke the pore man by the hand, 

& ledd him before the noble-man : 
he kneeled downe vpon his knees, 
84 & these words to him sayd then : 

" & you be S/r King,'^ then said the pore man, 

" you are the goodly est ffelloAV tJiat euer I see ; 
you haue soe many I[i]ngles langles about yee, 
88 I neuer see man weare but yee." 

" I am not the K.iiig," the Nobleman said, 
" although I weare now a proud cote." 
" & you be not, & youle bring me to him, 
92 ffor yo?fr reward He giue you a groat." 

"I thanke you, Sir," saith the Noble-man, 

" your reward is soe great, I cannott say nay ; 
He ffirst goe know our KingB pleasure ; 
96 till I come againe, be sure iJiai you stay." 

" here is such a staring," said the pore man, 

" I thinke the 'King is better heere then in our 
countrye ; 
I cold havie gone to ff'armost nooke in the house, 
1 00 Neither Ladd nor man to haue troubled mcc. ' ' [page 4-20] 

the noble-man went before our Kinge, 
does so ; goe well hee knew his curtesye, 

" there is one of the rankest clownes att yonr gates 
104 Ihai euer Enu'lishnuiu did see. 

and then 
offers 4d. to 
bi'ing him to 
the King. 

The noble- 
man says 
he'll ask the 



" he calles them knaues jour hignes keepe, 

with-all hee calls them somewhatt worsse, 
he dare not come in w/thout a longe staffe, 
108 hees ffeard lest some baukront shokl pike his pursse." 

" lett him come in," then said om- King, 
" lett him come in, and his stafFo too ; 
weele see how he can answer euery matter 
1 12 now the match att bowles is done.^ " 

the Noble-man tooke the pore man by the hand, 

& led him through chambers and gallerjes hye : 
" what does our 'King with soe many empty houses, 
116 & garres them not ffilled w/th corne and hay ? " 

& as they went through one alley, 

the nobleman soone the did spye ; 
" yond is the Km^," the noble-man sayd, 
120 "looke thee, good ffellow, 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 Is-iiKj hath Laid some of his clothes away ; 

and the 

answers " let 
liim come 

The poor 

ask^: why 
the King 
fill his 
rooms with 
corn and 

and on being 
the King, 

believe it is 

& when the noble-man came before our K/)/v/, 
128 soe well hee knew his curtesie, 
the pore man ffollowed after him, 

gaue a nodd wt'th his head, & a becke wtth his 
knee : 

" & if you be the king," then said the pore man, 
152 " as I can hai'dly thinke yoa bee, 

this goodly fi'ellow iliat brought me hithei', 
seemes liker to be a K-iiuj then yee." 

and tells 
him the 
looks more 
like a king 
lliaii he 

' duo. — iJ^'co. 



But the 
Kins **iiys be 
is king, 

and the ix>oi' 
man tells 
him how 
the lawyer, 

because he 
has cut 
down 5 ash 

wants to 
make him 
forfeit his 

" I am the K/v/r/, & tlie 'King indeede ; 
136 lett me tliy matter vnder stand." 

tlien the pore raan ffell downe on his knees : 
" I am jour tennant on jonr owne good Land, 

" & there is a Lawyer dwells me by, 
140 a ffault in ray 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, 
144 & cease himselfe, if tJiat hee Avas willing, 
& pike no vantage out of my Lease ; 

lie seemed a good ffellow, I wold giue him 40:" 

" 40^ nor 401' 
148 w^old not agree this lawer and mee,^ 
unless he'll w/thout I wold giue him of my farme ground, 

some of his & stand to his good curtesye. 


" I said, ' nay, by fay, thai 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 niarkc. 

"Have you 
your lease V " 
paj's the 

" Here it is 
if you can 
read it." 

" Wliat if I 
can't 'i " 

" 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, 

& sales, " heere my Leege, if you cann rceade." 

" what if I cannott ? " then sayes our King, 
IGO " 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.' 

LiiU'a 147 and 148 arc written as one iu the MS. — F. 



" I can nenar gett these knotts Loose," tlien said our 
■^Ing ; 
164 liee gaue itt a gentleman stood him hard by. 
" tliais a proud horsse," then said the pore man, 
" tluit will not carry his owne p/vvuentye ; 

" & yee paid me 5^ rent as I doe yce, 
168 I wold not be to proud to loose a knott ; 
but giuet me againe, & He loose itt for ye, 
see thai in my rent youle bate mee a groate." 

" 1 can't 
read it," 
saj-s the 

" More 
shame to 
you," says 
the poor 
man : 

" I'll read it 
for you if 
you'll let me 
off 4c/. rent 1" 

an ^ old man tooke this Lease in his hande, 
172 & the Ki»^s maiesty stoode soe, 

" He warrant thee, pore man, & thy ground, 
if 2 thou had fFallen 5 ashes more.^ " 

" Alas to-day ! " then said the pore man, 
176 " now hold jour tonge,'* & trouble not mee ; 
hee tliai troubles me this day with this matter. 
Cares neither for joav warrantts, you, nor mee." 

The King 
tells him 
he'll war- 
rant him his 

* ' AV arrant ! 
the lawyer 
don't care 
for you or 
your war- 




" He make thee attachment, ffoole," hee sayes, [page 4-27] ""Weii 

then," says 

" that all that sees itt shall take thy part. the King, 

*' ^ "tie the 

lawyer up to 
a tree till he 

■vTitill hee haue paid thee a 100'^ 

thoust tye him to a tree that hee cannott start." 

" I thanke you, S/r," said the poreman then : 

" about this Matter, sith you haue beene willinge, 

& seemed to doe the best you cann, 

With all my heart Ho giue you a shillinge." 

" a plaugc on thy knaues hart ! " then said our Ki'z/y, 
" this mony on my skin ^ Lyes soc cold." 

he fflang itt into the K-ings Bossome, 

because in his hand he wold itt not hold. 

pays you 


vou, that'll 

and I'll give 
you 1»-." 

which he 
throws into 
the King's 

' the.— F. 

^ i.e. oven if. — Skeat. 

' moc. — Dyco. 

* A n<itlur letter blotcln-dM-itlirfu! low: 
in tlic i\lS.— F. 
^ MS. skim.— F. 


The King 
gives him 
100/. 192 


the K.m(j called liis tresurer, 

sales " count me downe a 100^' — 
since lie liath s^oeiit niony by the way, — 

to briiip- him home to his owne ":ood OToand." 

when the 100'.' was counted, 
196 to receiue itt the pore man was willing : 

" if I had thought you had had soe much siluer & 
you shold not haue had my good shilling." 

the Lawyer came to welcome him 
200 when hee came home vppon a Sunday : 

" where haue you beene, Neihbor ? " hee sayes, 

When the 
poor man 
the lawyer 
asks him 

imTbeeu! " Diethiiikes you haue beene long away." 

" To the 

" I haue beene att the K/vir/," the poore man said. 
204 " & what the deuill didest thou doe there ? 
cold not our neihbors haue agreede vs, 

but thou must sfoe soe ffarr iFrom heere ? " 

" there cold no neighbors haue agreed thee & me, 
who's told 208 nor halfe soe well haue pleased my hart ; 
uptiiiyou°" vntill thou haue payd mee a lOO", 

100/."^ He tye thee to a tree, thou cannott start." 

The lawyer wheii the 100" was Counted, 

pays the . . ^ .,,. 

money. 212 to receiuc itt the poreman was most willing ; 

& for the paines in the Law hee had taken, 
hee wold not "'iue him ag-aine one shillino-." 

and let us 
live in 

god send all Lawyers thus well serued 

May God 

lawyers so, 216 then ^ may pore ffarmers line in rest.^ 

god blesse & saue our noble Kinge, 
& send vs all to line in peace ! 


' MS. tiuii).— r. 

* ease. — Dycc. 


In a '' l^ooke of Survey of the Baroiiye of Warinton in the 
countie of Lancaster, Parcell of the possessions of the Eiglit 
Honorable Eobert Erie of Leicester, baron of Denbigh," as talceu 
on the 19th of April in the twenty-ninth year of *'our Soverein 
Queen Ladye Elizabeth " (1587) we find the following description 
of Bewsey Hall : 

The Mannei^howse 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 Pai-k. 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 lOOZ. 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 SO-t 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 l^arl hY'irars, and sometime about 1240 

206 8in lOIIN SUTLER. 

bought the manor of Burtonwood from Eol)ert de Ferrariis.' 
Here he built Bewsey Hall, aud thereafter took the style of 
Butler of Bewsey instead of Butler of Warrington. 

It is not intended to go into the family history of the Butlers. 
As lords of various manors held in capite, they had to lead their 
retainers in the Welsh and Scotch wars ; and Froissart has a 
characteristic narrative of the rescue of John Butler of Bewsey 
by Sir Walter Manny in the French campaign in 1342.^ This 
seems to have been the prosperous time of the family. A priory 
of Hermit Friars of St. Augustin in Warrington was probably 
founded by them towards the close of the thirteenth century. 
The chancel of the parish church dates about 1360. Sir John 
Butler rebuilt Warrington Bridge, which had been washed away 
by floods, 13G4. He seems also to have founded the Butler 
Chantry in the church.^ 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 Eotuli Parlia- 

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 w^as we are not told, but 
her son John grew up and married, first Anne Savile, aud 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 Jolm died in 
1462, and he seems to have been the hero of the ballad, of the 

' Gent. Mag. Doc. 1863, y. 7;")."). " Lanca.shirf Cliantries. {CJ/c//i. S<c.), 

2 Froissart, vol. ii. p. 9, (mji. SO. p. 07. •• Eot. Pari. iv. 497-8. 


traditions of the neighbourhood, and of the narrative of Dods- 

The Old Church, as it is always called by the inhabitants, the 
High Church of Warrington as named in the ancient charters, 
seems even then to have lost the name of the saint to whom it 
was dedicated — St. Elphin — in Domesday Book. It has been re- 
built within the last few years, and consisted then ( 18G0) 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.^ The lokd 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, \vas a 
cinquofoiled 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. 
Tlie name of the Butlers had vanished from their resting place, 
l)ut 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 faitlik'ss servant placed 

' Tlio whole of tlu' clia]i(l lias lieon preserved: the only part of the old pile 
jiuHed down. Imt the toinlis liavt' been left is tiie ehaiicel. 


a lio-lit fit a Aviiulow over tlie hall door, to (^We notice to the 
assassins, who crossed the mote and found the door open. They 
made their way to the lord's chamber, and were met and opposed 
by a negro servant, who fell in defence of his master, whose 
murder soon followed. The heir, a haby, 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 

A new servant had always to get accustomed to the visits of 
an apparition, a rattling of chains along the narrow lobby, and 
three raps at the bedroom door at midnight, till use made the 
thing pass as a matter of course. The traitor steward was pro- 
mised great exaltation, and they hanged him on an oak as they 
came awa}^ through the park. A tree pointed out as the iti- 
felix arbor was cut down some forty years ago.' 

Such was the tale sixty years ago. It had, perhaps, been 
modified by being introduced as an episode in a poem published 
with Dodsworth's account in 1796, the first effort of the author 
of the interminable epic Alfred — Mr. John Fitchett. Pennant, 
who travelled after the middle of last century, heard that both 
the lord and lady were slain ; and a century before that, Roger 
Dodsworth had taken the pains to put in writing what he had 
heard, and his narrative is still in the Bodleian Library. 

Dodsworth's account is as follows: — When King Henry VII. 
came to Latham, the Earl of Derby sent to Sir John I'utler, who 
was his brother-in-law, to desire him to wear his cloth for a 

' This tree was certainly not so old as made its appearance when troiiLle or 

tlie time of Elizabeth. As an attendant ciiange was impending; it is said to 

spirit (on the domain however, more than have been seen within the present een- 

its lords) was a white rabbit, which tury. 


time — a request which the Lady Butler answered with g-reat 
disdain. This gave rise to great malice on the part of the Earl, 
which was increased by various other matters, till, with the 
assistance of Sir Piers Legh and William Savage, they corrupted 
his servants and murdered him in his bed. His lady, who was 
in London, dreamed that night that Bewse}' Hall swam with blood. 
She indicted twenty men for the murder ; but after marrying 
Lord Grey, he made her suit void. Upon which she left him 
and came back into Lancashire, and said, ' If my lord will not 
lielp 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 Tnquisitio 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 
liord Strange took in the latter just before the battle of Bosw^orth 
l^'ield.^ But not a tittle of evidence has turned up to show that 
there was any murder at all. The record of the outrage on the 
previous Lady Butler is given in the RoTULi ParliAmentoru.m, 

' Gent. Mag. St'it. 1:63. 
VOL. HI. p 


but every thing connected with the murder of the hist Sir John 
seems to have vanished like Macbeth's witches. There had 
certainly been bad blood between the Leghs and Butlers for 
some generations, which continued for two or three generations 
after ; and this Sir Piers Legh of the tale is said to have been 
compelled to build a church at Dishley, near Lyme, to expiate 
the guilt he had incurred in the bloodshed. His monumental 
brass, where he is represented as wearing a priest's robes over 
his armour, is still to be seen in Winwick Church ; and as he died 
in 1527, aged 65, he could only have been an infant at the date 
of Butler's death. It seems out of the question to connect Lord 
Stanley, Butler's brother-in-law, with it; and nothing is known 
about William Savage. As to the blood-marks, that portion of 
Bewsey Hall is not older than the sixteenth century, and was most 
likely the part described in the " Surveye " as having been then 
newly built, so that we meet only with phantom evidence, which 
we can neither grasp nor realise. 

Whether the Lord Grey was of Codnor, of Groby, or de 
Ferrariis is uncertain; and it is doubtful whether Lady Margaret 
Butler was the widow of Troutbeck when she married Sir John, 
or whether, as anotlier 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 Lord 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 



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. EoBSON.) 

JjUT word is come to warrington, 

& Busye liall is laid about ; 
S/r lolm Bvitler and his merry men 
4 stand in ffull great doubt. 

Busye Hall 
is sur- 
roiindpcl , 
rind Sir J. 
Butler in 

when they came to Busye hall 
itt was the merke ' midnight, 

and all the bridges were vp drawen, 
and neuer a candle Lio'ht. 

At midnight 
his takers 
come ; 

there they made them one good boatc, 

all of one good Bull skinn; 
'WilUavi Sauage Avas one of the ffirst 
12 that euer came itt wi'thin. 

on a hull- 
skin boat 

hee sayled ore his menymen 

by 2 and 2 together, 
& said itt was as good a bote 
16 as ere was made of letlier. 

crofs over 
the moat. 

' merke, (hu-k ; MS. may bo merle. — F. 
p 2 



Ellen Butler 
rouses her 

His uncle 
Stanley is 

" waken you, Avaken you, deare ffatlier ! 

god waken you w/tliin ! 
for lieere is yo«r vnckle standlye 
20 come yonr hall w<thin." 

No money 
will save 

"i£that be true, Ellen Butlei^, 
these tydings you tell mee, 
a 100 V in good redd gold 
24 this night will not borrow mee." 

Ellen comes 
down to the 

then ^ came downe Ellen Butler 

& into her ffathers hall, 
& then came downe Ellen Butler, 
28 & shee was laced in pall. 

" Where is 
father? " 

" Gone to 
I swear." 

" where is thy ffather, Ellen Butler ? 

haue done, and tell itt mee." 
" my ffather is now to London ridden, 
32 as Christ shall haue paj-t of mee." 

" No, he is 

■we must 
have him." 

" Now nay, ISTow nay, Ellen Butler, 

ffor soe itt must not bee ; 
ffor ere I goe ffbrth of this hall, 
36 yowr ffather I must see." 

[page 428] 

They search, the sought that hall then vp and downe ^ 

theras lohn Butler Lay "^ ; 
the sought that hall then vp and downe 
40 theras lohn Butler Lay ; 

ffaire him ffall, litle Holcrofft ! 
find iiiui, soe Merrilye he kept the dore, 

till that his head ffrom his shoulders 
44 came tumbling downe the ffloore. 

' MS. them.— F. 

* These two lines only of f he four are 

in the MS., hut they are marked witli a 
bracket and bis. — F. 




" yeeld thee, yeelde thee, lohn Butler ! 

yeelde thee now to mee ! " 
" I will yeelde me to my vnckle Stanlye, 

& neere to ffalse Peeter Lee." 

and summon 
liim to yield. 

" a preist, a preist," sales Ellen Butler, 

" to housle and to shriue ! 
a preist, a preist," sais Ellen Butler, 
52 " while that my father is a man aliue 

" A priest to 
shrive my 
father," says 

then bespake him wilh'am 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 

the Ladye Butler is to London rydden, 
shee had better haue beene att home, 
shee might haue beggd her o\\Tie marryed LortZ 
60 att her cood Brother lohn. 

Lady Butler 
is in 

& as shee lay in leeue London, 

& as shee lay in her bedd, 
shee dreamed her owne marryed hord 
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 rydc to Busye hall 
68 W(th all speed that wee may." 

calls up her 

and rides 

shee mett w/th 3 Kendall men 

were ryding by the way : 
" ty dings, tydings, Kendall men, 
72 I pray you tell itt mee ! " 

She meets 
Kendal men. 

and asks 



" John 
Butler is 

She turns 
back to 

and prays 
the King 

to kill her 
lord's throe 

" What ! 3 
for 1? 

No. Do you 
marry Lord 

" lieauy tydings, deare Madam ! 

firoin you wee wdll not Leane,' 
the worthyest K.nigJit in merry England, 
7G lolm Butler, Lord ! liee is slaine ! " 

" ffarewell, fFarwell, lolin 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, 

" ffbr gods lone grant itt mee ! " 
" what is thy boone, Lady Butler ^ ? 
88 or what wold thou haue of mee ^ ? " 

** what is thy boone, Lady Butler? 
or what wold thou haue of mee ? 
" tliat ffalse Peeres of Lee, & my brother Stanley, 
92 & will/'a?» Sauage, and all, may dye." 

" come you hither. Lady Butler, 

come you ower this stone ; 
wold you haue 3 men fibr to dye, 
96 all ffor the losso off one ? 

" come you hither, Lady Butler, 

with all the speed you may ; 
if thou wilt come to London, Lari// Butler, 
100 thou shalt goe home Lady Gray." 


' 0. N. leina, to conceal. — F. Leave 
is a Chcsliiropronnnciiition for layne, con- 
ceal. This provincialism occurs in the 
previous stanza, where ?<y/3^ rhymes Xomcc, 
and elsewhere in the ballad (1. 83-8). 

IIow far south it extends I don't know, 
but about Frodsliam it is very peculiar. 
— Dr. Eobson. 

■•' These two lines are bracketed, and 
marked bis in the MS.— F. 


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 Lrother, 
But John he is the wiser man. 

William generally takes to his bed — 

— into care-bed leaps he (see vv. 9, 188) 

when his passion runs high, or any scheme for crowning it with 
its object's possession fails. John sets forth to "propose" and 
"arrange" in his behalf. This giving of wit and importance to 
the younger brother is perhaps a Norse element. Such a 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. 1.39), 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 unfrecjuently, 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 tie purpose of sport. 



The game of football in particular, wLich 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 Eobert 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 meetincf where the crime was concerted." 

Alas ! my 
love won't 
love me I 

I sing of 
Will Siewfirt 
and John. 

Will takes 
to his bed 
for love of 
the Earl of 

[page 4-i9] 

John asks 
him what he 
mourns for ; 


or a girl ? 

ADLATTS : parks is wyde and broad, 
& grasse growes greene in our countrye ; 
eche man can gett the loiie 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 lohn : 
will/ftHi he is the Elder brother, 
8 but lohn hee is the wiser man.' 

but william lie is in carebed Layd, 

& for the loue of a ffaire Ladye ; 
If he haue not the loue of the Erie of Mars daughter, 

in ffaith ifor loue that he must dye. 




then lohn ^vas sorry ffor his brother, 

to see him lye and languish soe : 
" what doe you mourne for, brother ? " he saies, 

" I pray you toll to me jqhv woe. 

" doe [you ^] mourne for gold, brother ? " he saies, 

" or doe you mourne fibr ffce ? 
or doe you mourne for a like-some Ladye 

you neuer saw her w/th yoHr eye ? " 


-' you.— P. 




"I doe not mourne for gold," lie sales, 
" nor I doe not mourne for any ffee ; 

but I doe mourne for a likesome Ladye, 
I neere blinke on lier ■\v/tli mine eye." 

" AbeautUul 
lady." . 

" but -Nvlien liarucst is gotten, my deere bi-otlier,- 

all this is true tltai I tell thee, — 
gentlemen, they loue hunting well, 
28 & giue wight men their cloth & ffee ; 

" Well, after 

when allow- 
ances are 
given out, 

" then He goe a wooing ffor thy sake 

in all the speed thai 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." 

lohn Stewart is gone a wooing for his brother 

soe ffarr into ffaire Scottland, 
& left his brother in mikle ffeare 
3C vntill he heard tbe good tydand.' 

So John 

& when he came to the Erie of Mars his house, 

soe well he could his cui-tesye, 
& when he came before the Erie, 
40 he kneeled Low downe vpon liis knee. 

" rise vp, rise vp, lohn Steward ! 

rise vp, now, I doe bidd thee ; 
how doth thy ffather, lohn Stewart, 
44 & all the Lords in his countrye ? " 

to the Earl 
of Mar, 

kneels down 
to him. 

" & itt please you, my Lort/, my ffather is dead, 

my brother & I cannott agree, 
my brother & I am ffallen att discord, 
48 & I am come to craue a service of thee." 

and snj-s, 
" My father's 
dead; my 
lirothcr and 
1 can't 
agree ; take 
me into your 

' i.e. tiilings.— P, 

•*• if « 'ftimnr "¥ilfc jamer x atiuar iifflBt. 

•iign^ TnuT -ftnT inr wrraiT jasmi ~n7 iE 3ies _ 

fi '.liiiH- 'iMcr -jitirn: iiggtagy 'n«^wB"s& twmw- "^ 

111 ~- ~ — 

JS. X: - _ . _^ - _ : L. . 

■^ 3iin JIT m* laiiifi '^ ■_ -_ :_ T^-it^ * . ar". 

~~w!titsi. -q^i^^" uaK. dWn ausir iue it??- 

"5 ^ 




"he is a 'Lord now borne hj birth, 
& an Erie aflter his flather doth dye ; 

his haire is yellow, his eyes beene gray ; 
all this is true that I teU yee. 

that his 
brother, an 


"he is ffine in the middle, & small in the wast, 

& pleasant in a womans eye ; 
& more nor this, he dyes for your Loue, 

84 Therfore, Lady, show some pittyo." 

[page 430] 


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, lohn Stewart, 
88 I can loue him hartilye. 

" bidd him meete me att S' Patr[i]clves Church 

on Sunday after S- Andrews day ; 
the fflower of Scottland will be thei*e, 
92 & then begins our summers play. 

" & bidd him bring w<th him a 100 gunners, 

& rawnke ^ ryders lett them bee, 
& lett them bee of the rankest ryders 
90 that be to be ffound in that couutrye.^ 

She say 

she can love 

and he is to 
meet her 

at their 

with 100 

" they ' best & worst, & all in Like, 

bidd him cloth them in one Liueryc ; 
& ffor his men, greene is the best, 
100 & greene now lett their liueryes bee ; 

olail all ill 

' See Pagft 432 [of the M.S.], 6'.'' Lino 
from <Ae bottom, [page 227, 1. 298 of 
this volume] where it is rdnkt ryders. 
limk is use<l by 0;iw? Douglas for a, 
Il;wc, a Course, jind in the plural renkin, 
Whence to rink up & down ; diseurrere, 
circumire, from lielg. nnrken, flectere. 
Thus I'a^. I.'i7, I. I'O: The futxmennis 
rcnkis, is. The Races of the footmen. 
Pag. 138. 18, 32. The rcnku end, Tlio 

end of the Course. So Pag. 193. 52, 
Soiisquo vias is rcndor'd The Sonnvs 
rvnkf, M. 6. 790. So Ain. 7. H(l2, 
querit iter, sekis his rcnk. N.15. nink 
rider is still uai-d in Leicestershire, & 
signifies a keen eager rider, one that doth 
not spare horse-flesh. ^P. 

'^ 'I he t seems to lie made over an r/, 
pari of whieh is left. — F. 

■' the.- P. 



himself in 


" & clothe himselfe in scarlett redd, 
iliat is SOS seemlye fFor to see ; 

fFor Scarlett is a fFaire Coulour, 

& pleasant allwayes in a womans eye. 

and tlien 

most of the 
16 games. 

" he must play sixteene games att ball 

against the men of this countrye, 
& if he winn the greater port 
108 then I shall [Love] ^ him more tenderlye." 

John writes 
all tliis to 
his brother 

Will leaps 
out of bed, 

what the Lady said, lohn Stewart writt, 

& to Argyle Castle sent it hee ; 
& ^ [when] Willie steward saw the letter, 
112 ffbrth of care-bed then Lope hee. 

hee mustered together his merry men all, 

hee mustered them soe louelilye, 
hee thought hee had had scarson halfe a 1 00'.' 
116 then had hee 11 score and three. 

chooses the 
100 best, 

clothes them 
in green, 

he chose flForth a 100 of the best 

tliai were to be ffound in that countrye, 
he cladd them all in one Coulour, 
120 & greene I- wis their liueryes bee. 

himself in 

he cladd himselfe in scarlett redd, 
thai is soe seemelye ffor to see ;- 
ffor scarlett is a ffaire coulor, 
124 & seemlye in a womans eye ; — 

and goes to 
St. I'atrick's 

& then towards Patricke Church he went 

with all his men in braue array, 
to gett a sight, if he might, 
128 & speake w/th his Lady gay. 

' Love is wi'iltcn in the MS. Ly a later 
liaiid between then and /. — F. 

2 Wlien.— P. 



Avhen they came to Patrickes cliurclie, 

shee kneeled downe by her mother trulye : 
" Mother, if itt please you to giue me leaue, 
L32 the Stewarts horsse ffaine wold I see." 

" He giue you leaue, my deere daughter, 

& I and my maide will goe w/th yee : " 
the Lady had rather haue gone her selfe, 
136 then haue had her mothers companye. 

His Lady 


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 yo?(r daughter, Ladye," he said, 
140 " & if yo?(r will that soe itt bee." 

the Ladyes mother was content 

to doe a straunger thai curtesye ; 
& when willie had gotten a kisse, 
144 I- wis shee mio-ht haue teemed him 3.' 

^Vhen they 
see Will, 
he a«ks for a 
kiss from the 

She agrees, 

and Will 
takes it. 

16 games were plaid thai 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 thai they were done, 

& all they ffblkcs away were gone 
but the Erie of Marrs & Will/rt h; Stewart, 
152 & the Erie wold needs haue WilhVn/i home. 

He plays 16 

and wins 12 
of them. 

The Earl of 
Mar asks 
him home. 

& when they came vnto the Erles howse, 

they walked to a garden greene ; 
fFor to conflferr of their bussines, 
156 into the garden they be gone.^ 

' deemed it 3.— P. given him 3: 
teem, to pour out ; to unload a cart ; to 
cause, contrive. Halliwell. A.-S. team, 
issue, offspring, anything following in a 

row or team : tcaniian, to produce, pro- 
pagate. Bosworth. — ]*'. 
■•^ I weenc [added by]— P. 

2 '2 9 


[page 431] 
Will asks 
him for his 

says the 
Earl ; 

"I'd sooner 
hang you 

or burn 

Go to yonr 
room, girl, 
in the 
devil's name, 

or I'll beat 

" I loue jour daugliter," saies william stewart, 

" but I cannott tell whether she louetli mee." 
" Marry, god defend," saies the Erie of March, 
160 " that euer soe that itt shold bee ! 

" I had rather a gallowes there was made, 

& hange thee fibr my daughters sake ; 
I had rather a ffyer were made att a stake, 
164 & burne thee ffor my daughters sake ! 

" to chamber, to chamber, gay Ladye," he saies, 

" in the deuills name now I bidd thee ! 
& thou gett thee not to the Chamber soone 
168 He beate thee before the Stewarts eye." 

Will says 
he'd better 

& then bespake wilh'am stewart, 
. these were the words said hee, 
" if thou beate thy daughter for my sake, 
thoust beate a 1001 men and mee.^ " 

and John 
rebukes him 
for his 


then bespake lohn stewart, — 

Lort? ! an angry man was hee, — 
" Churle, if thou wonkiest not haue macht w/th 
my brother, 

thou might ^ haue answerd him cu^rteouslye." 

The Earl 
John with 

loss of 

" Hang your 
tays John ; 

" I hold to 
my brother." 

" hold thy peace, lohn Stewart, 

& chamber thy words now, I bidd thee ; 
if thou chamber not thy words soone, 
180 thoust loose a good service ; soe shalt thou doe me." 

"Marry! hang them </i«t cares," saies lohn Stewart, 

"either ffbr thy service or ffor thee ! 
services can I haue enoughe, 
184 but brethren wee must euer bee." 

' MS. noc— F. 

* Two strokes for the i in the MS. -F, 



y^'illiam Stewart & liis brother lolm, 
to Argyle Castle gon they bee ; 

& -when willye came to Argyle Castle, 
into carebedd then lope hee. 

The brothers 
go back to 
and Will 
takes to his 
bed again. 

A Parlaiment att Edenborrow wns made, 
the 'King & his Nobles all mett there ; 
the sent ffor will/«j» stewart & lohn, 
192 to come amongst ^ the other peeres. 

A parlia- 
is held at 
Will and 
John go. 

their clothing was of scarlett redd, 
that was soe seemelye fFor to see ; 
blacke hatts, white ffeatliers plewed ^ wtth gold, 
I'JG & sett all on their heads trulye. 

gaily clad. 

their stockings were of twisted silke, 

With garters ffringed about with, gold, 
their shoes w^ere of the Cordevine,^ 
200 & all was comelye to behold. 

& when they came to Edenborrowe, 

they called fibr lohn Steward & Willie : 
I answer in A* hords roome," sales will Stewart, 
204 " but an Erie I hope to bee." 

Will is 
called, and 
answers as 
a Lord. 


" come downe, come downe," sales the hord of Mars, The Eari of 

Mar says ho 

" I knew not what was thy degree." didn't know 

•' ° _ his rank 

" churle, if I might not haue macht w/th thy before. 
itt had not beene long of my degree. 

' The MS. has four strokes for the m. 

- Perhaps plaited, pleted, i.e. plaited 
r plated. — P. Fr. plicr, to phiit, plic, 
end, turne, wrie. Cotgrave. — F. 

' Cordevino, i.e. Cordwane, Spanish, 
or Cordovan Leather, from Cordova, in 
Spain. .Johns. — P. 

* MS. L.— F. 



Will answers 
that he's tlie 
nephew, and 
fit to match 
with the 


" my fFather, liee is the K.tng liis brother, 

& then the 'King is vnckle to me ; 
Churle, if I might not haue macht with, thy 

itt had not beene long of my degree." 

The King 
says he'll 

" hold yoHr peace," then sayd the King, 

" Cozen william, I doe bidd thee ; 
infaith. Cozen william, he loues you the worsse 
216 because you are a-kinn to mee. 

make Will 
an Earl, 

"He make thee an Erie w/th a siluer wande, 

& adde more honors still to thee ; 
thy brother Ihon shall be a Lord 
220 of the best att home in his countiye. 

and their 
a Kniglit. 

" thy brother Kester ' shalbe a Knight, 

lands & linings I will him giue, 
& still hee shall Hue in Court with, mee, 
224 & He maintaine him whilest he doth liue." 

& when the parlaiment was done, 

& all the ffolkes away were gone, 
willye Stewart & lohn his brother, 
228 to Argyle Castle they be gone. 

Will and 
John go 

and Will 
falls love- 
sick again. 

but when they came to Argyle Castle 

That was soe ffarr in that Countryc,^ 
he thought soe much then of his lone, 
232 that into carebedd then lope hee. 

[page -132] 


promises to 
go wooing 
once more 
for him, 

lohn Stewart did see his brother soe ill : 
Lor J ! in his heart that hee was woe ; 
" I will goe wooing for thy sake 
23G againe yonder gay Ladye to. 

' cp. Kester Norton, vol. ii. p. 21 '2, 
1. 61.— F. 

^ Perhaps West Country, but it is 
North Country below. — P. 




" lie cloth my sclfc in strange array, 
in a beggars liabbitt I will goe, 

thai when I come before the Erie of March 
my clothing strange he shall not knowe." 

clad as a 

lohn hee gott on a clouted cloake, 

soe meete ^ & 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 thai is vnknowne ; 
ffor thou art one of the stoutest beggars 
248 that euer I saw since I was borne. 

" heere, geeue ^ 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 love. 

" stay, by my ffaith, I goe not yett,' 

lohn steward he can replye ; 
" lie haue my bottle ffull of beere, 
256 the best that is in thy butterye ; 

John fills his 
bottle with 
beer, * 

" He haue my sachell Mid full of meate, 

I am sure, brother, will doe noe hamie ; 
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 lohn cold ffind no place to stand 

264 vntill he came to the Ladye gaye. 

his Fatchel 
with meat, 

and goes to 
the Earl of 
Mar's on 

John gets 
near the 

' A.-S. ' mii-le and mcBfe' groat and Gloss, to Piers Plowman's Crede.— F. 
small: Gutlilac, 1.24, cd. Grein. Skeat's - here give.— P. 





but many a beggar he tbrew downe, 
and made them all with weeping say, 

" he is the devill, hee is no beggar, 

tlmi is come fForth of some strange countryc ! 

and after the 
doles are 

& now the dole thai itt is delte, 

& all the beggars be gon away 
sailing lohn Stewart, thai seemed a beggar, 
272 & the Ladye thai was soe gay. 

tells lier 

■nho he is. 

"Lady," sais lohn, "I am no beggar, 

as by my clothes you may thinke thai I bee ; 
I am yo«r servant, lohn stewart, 
276 & I am sent a messenger to thee." 

She asks " but if thou be lohn stewart, 

as I doe thinke thai thou bee, 
avayle^ thy capp, avayle thy hoode, 
280 & I will stand & speake to thee. 

how Will is. 

" 111, through 


" how doth thy brother, lohn stewart, 
& all the Lorc?s in his countrye ? " 

" ffye vpon thee, wicked woman ! 

my brother he doth the worsse ffor thee." 

Slie weeps, 

lays the 
blame on her 

and says 
she'll meet 

Will at 
dalo in three 


With thai the teares stood in her eyes ; 

lord ! shee wept soe tenderlye ; 
sais, " ligg the blame vnto my ffather ; 

1 pray you, lohn siewart, Lay itt not to mee ! 

"comend me to my owne truC loue 

iliai lines soe farr in the North countrye, 
& bidd him meete me att Martingsdale 
292 IFullye w[i]thin these dayes 3. 

' pull down, from Fr. a val. — F. 




" hang tliem," sais the Lady gay, 

" thai letts their ^ fFather witting bee ! 

lie prone a Ladye ffull of loue, 

& be there by the sunn be a quarter highe. 

" & bidd him bring with him a lOOf gunners,^ 

& ranke riders lett them bee, 
lett them be of the rankest ryders ^ 
300 thai be to be fFound in thai Countrye. 

" Let him 
bring lOU 
witli 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 ; [page 433] 

clad all in 

*' & cloth himselfe in scarlett Redd, 

thai is soe seemelye for to see ; 
for Scarlett is a ffaire Coulor, 
308 & pleasant in a womans eye." 

while he's iu 

what they Lady sayd, lohn steward writt, 

to Argyle Castle sent itt hee ; 
his bagg & his dish, & showing home, 
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 thai countrye, 

he mustered together his merry men all, 

he mustered them soe louinglye ; 
he thought he had had scarce halfe a lOO.i," 
320 then had hee 11 score and three. 

Will jumps 
out of bed, 

mnstei-s his 
'iTi men, 

' my.— F. 

* m in place of nn in the MS.^ — F. 

' Two or throe letters appeHrono oA'er 

the other for the s of this word in the 
MS.— F. 

ii 2 



chooses the 
100 best, 

and posts to 



There his 
meets liim , 


lie chose ffortli a 100*^ of tlie best 

that were to be found in thai 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, 

shea kisst will/«m stewart & his brother lohn, 

soe did shee part of his merry men : 
" if the Churle, thy ffather, hee were here, 
332 he shold not haue thee backe ag^aine." 

marries him, 

goes home 
with him, 

they sent ffor preist, they sent ffor Clarke, 
& they were marry ed there with speede ; 
Wiiliam tooke the Lady home ^ with him, 
336 & they lined together long time indeed. 

and is soon 
great with 

John goes 
to the Earl 
of Mar. 

& in 12 monthe soe they wrought, 

the Lady shee was great with childe ; 
the sent lohn stewart to the Erie oiF Marre 
340 to come & chr[i]sten the barne soe milde. 

The Earl 
hopes Will 
has married 

"And if this be soe," sayes the Erie of Marre, 

" lohn stewart, as thou tells mee ; 
I hope in god you haue marryed my daughter, 
344 & put her bodye to honestye." 

No, he 
hasn't, says 

" Nay, by my ffaith," then sales lohn stewart, 

" ffor euer alas that shall not bee ; 
ffor now wee haue put her body to shame, 

and he'll send 
her home to 

you. 348 thoust haue her ag-aine hame to thee." 

' n instead of m in tlie MS. — F. 




" I liad rather make tliee Erie of Marre, 
& marry my daugliter vnto tliec ; 

for by my ffaitli," sais tlie Erie of Marr, 
"lier marryage is marrd in our countrye." 

" I'd ratlu>r 
you marry 
her thon, 
and I'll 
make vou 
Earl oif 

" if tliis be soe," then sais lohn stewart, 

" a marryage soone that thou shalt see ; 
ffor my brother william, my ffathcrs heyre, 
356 shall marry thy daughter before thine eye." 

"No, Will 
'11 marry 

they sent ffor preist, the sent ffor Clarke, 

& marryed there they were w/th speed ; 
& william stewart is Erie of Marr, 
360 & his ffather-in-Law dwells w/th him indeed. 

So Will does, 
and is Earl 
of Mar. 



^otu tl)t Springe i^ tomt 

This ballad is in the Eoxburghe Collection, vol. i. p. 200, entitled 
"A Lover's desire for his best beloved ; or, Come away, come away, 
and do not stay. To aii excellent new Court tune.'''' Having 
been printed by the assigns of Thomas Symcocke, the Eoxburghe 
copy of the ballad must be of the reign of James I., sa3"s 
Mr. Chappell, who prints the tune of it on pages 464-5 of his 
Popular' Music, vol. ii. " The rhythm of the first part of the 
tune is peculiar, from its alternate phrases of two and three bars, 
but still not unsatisfactory to the ear." The date assigned to the 
ballad by Mr. Chappell, he confirms by the fact that Christmas' s 
Lamentation — a piece like in charactei- to our In olde times 
paste — is to be sung to the tune of Noiu the Spring is come, 
and was itself written during the latter part of the reign of 
Elizabeth, or that of James I., as the yellow starcli 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. 

^'ow THE sriiLNGE is c )Mi!:. 


now spring s 
come, turn 
to thy love ! 

ri W the spring is come, tui*ne to thy loue, to tliy loue, Dearest 

to thy loue, to thy loue, without delay ! 
where the fflowers spring, & birds doe singe 

their sweete tunes : jj : Jt : doe not stay ! 
where I shall ffiU thy lapp w/th fflowers, 
& couer thee wrth shady bowers. 

Come away, Come awaye, Comc away ! 

Come away, & doe not stay ! 


Shall I languish still for' thy loue, 

still fFor thy loue : z '■ U '• w/thout releflfe ? 

shall my ffaith soe well aproued 
now dispayre : t ■ U ■ w/th my greeffe ? 

where shall vertue then be ffound 

but where bewtye doth abound ? Come away ! &g 

[page 434] Let me not 


Leave ine 

not to 
despair ! 



Here is a bed 
for tliee 

of roses 

fflora heere hath made a bedd ffor my loue, 

fFor my loue : Ji : Jf : of roses redd. 

Phebus beames to stay are bent, 

ffor to yeeld : u '■ U '• niy loue content, 

& the pleasant Eglantine eglantine 

m[i]xt 2 With a 1000 fflowers fine. Come away ! &c. 


Hearke ! the Nightingale ^ doth singe 

ffor my loue : &c : the woods doe ringe. 

Pan, to please my loue, allwayes 

pipethe there : &c : his roundelayes. 

& the pleasant rushye brookes, 

&euery fflower, for my loue lookes. Come away ! &c. 

The nightin- 
gale sings for 

Bewtyes Queen w.'th all her traine 
28 * doth attend : &l; : my loue vpon the plaine ; 

Venus waits 
for thee, 

' ShiiU I still lang;«(sli for. 
- luixl.— P. 


' Miglitingale in the MS.— F. 
' iittends. — P. 



the Muses 
play for thee; 


trippinge Satyres dancinge moue 

delight : &c : my bewtyous loue 

the muses nine, "w^'tll mnsicke sweete 

doe all attend, my loue to meete. Come away ! &c. 

then turn to 
thy love ! 

Come awaj"! 

ffairest ffaire ! then tuinie to thy lone, 

to thy lone : &c : thai loones thee best ! 
lett sweete pittye moue ! grant lone for lone 
36 like the done : &c : let onr lone for ener rest ! 
crowne my desires w/th a 1000'? ioyes ! 
thy lone reuines, thy hate destroyes. Come away! &c. 



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. But 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 folio wiuo; words : — 

Deniqiie crescentibus indies rumoribus 
quod Regis rebeiles adventum suum in 
Angliarii maturant & accelerant; Rex 
autena dabius in quo portu applieare in- 
tonduut, id enim per nullos exploratorcs 
sibi certitudinaliter affcn-i potuit; se 
transfert versus Aquilonem, parum ante 
festuTn Pcntecostcg: relicto doTuino de 
LoveU Camerario suo prope Snthamp- 
toniam, ut classem suam ibi diligenter 
instruat, ut omnes portus illarum par- 
tium fida obsen-et custodia, ut ipsos 
hostcs si inibi applieare curaront, coadu- 
natis viribus omnium circum incolen- 
tium, debellare non prsetermitterct. 
Perditis illic sub hac non necessaria 

politia victualibus & pecuniis ***... 
quo Rex tot expensas fticeretur, unde 
non falleret sequivocationera vocabuli 
portus illius, qiii a multis pro eorum 
descensu describebatur. Aiunt aliqui 
esse portum in partibus Suthnmpfonice 
appellatum Milfordiam, sieut est in 
WuHia. Et quia nonnulli quasi assent 
proplietico spiritu prai'diti, prpedixerunt 
homines istos in portu de Milford appul- 
suros, consueveruntque proplietiiB hu- 
jusmodi non in famosiori sed in alio 
saepissime ejusdem nominis loco suum 
sortiri eff'cctum : Prpeterea visus est Rex 
tot propugnacula in ilia Australi parte 
Regni hoc tempore constituisse. Sed 

' written in tin' Time of James 1'.', see 
last line. Either the Autlior of this & 
of the Song in Page 461 [of the M.S. 
Lo(h/c BiSsii/c, p. 321 lieiow] is t/w same, 
or one of them has copied almost ver- 

batim fvom the other. Sec Vagc 441 
& scq'.'"' There is a song of hitter date 
on this Sulijcct in t/fo printed Collection 
12".'° Vol. 3'.' p. 47, N. C— P. 



frustra. lUi enini primo die Aiigusti in 
norainatissinio illo portu Milford juxta 
Fembrochiam prospero statu, nulla in- 
veiita resistentia, appliciienmt. 

Gavisus est Kex, audi to eorum adventu, 
sen saltern gaudere dissimulavit, scribens 
iibique, jam sibi diem renisse desidera- 
tum, quo de tam exili comitiva facile 
triumphatuiiis, siibjectos a modo indubi- 
tatse pacis beneficiis recomfortet. Interea 
mandata terribilia multiplicibus literis 
ad omnes Eegni eomitatus dirigit, ne 
ulli hominum, eorum saltern quotquot ad 
aliquas in Eegno hsereditates nati sunt, 
bellum futuruni 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 

Parum ante istorum hominum appul- 
siim, Thomas de Stanley, senescallus lios- 
pitii Regis, accepta liccntia, ut in patriam 
suam Lancastrice, domum & familiam 
suam, unde diu aberat visnrus, transiret, 
non aliter uUam ibi moram trahere per- 
mittebatur, nisi filium suum primogeni- 
tum, Georglum dotninum Lestravge, Not- 
inghamiam ad Regem loco suo transmit- 
teret; quod & fecit. Deinde hominil)US 
istis, ut prsefertur, apud Milfvrdiam 
Wallia appiUsis, facientibusque iter 
suum per aspera & indirecta partium 
Borealium illius Provincire ; ubi Willielmus 
Stanley frater ejusdem Domini Senescalli, 
utpote Camerarius de Nurthwales, singu- 
lariter prsesidebat : niisit Rex ad dictum 
dominum de Stanley, ut omni postposita 
mora, sese Regis conspectui apud Nofing- 
hamiam prsesentaret. Timuit enim Rex 
id quod accidit, ne mater dicti Comitis 
liichinundke, quam dictus dominus de 
Stanley habuit in uxorem, maritum ad 
partes filii tuendas induceret. Ille autom 
mirabili .... pestem sudatoriam 
qua laborabat allegans, venire non potuit. 
Pilius autem ejus qui clanculum a Rege 
diseessum paraverat, discoopertus ab 
insidiis capitur, conjurationem suam & 
patrui sui Willielmi Stanley supradicti, 
simul & Johannis Savage Militum, ad 
partes Comitis Eichinundia defcnsandas, 
aperit, misericordiam postulat, promittit- 
que patrcm suum cum omni potent ia in 
Regis anxiiium quam citissiiiie advcntu- 
rum. Et super hoc, p(;riculum in quo 

erat, simul cum desiderio hujusmodi 
praestandi auxilii, literis suis patri de- 

Interim dictis duobus aliis Militibus 
pro proditoribus Regis apud Coventriam 
& alibi publice denunciatis, festinanti- 
busque inimicis, ac dirigentibiis vias 
suas die ac nocte recte in faciem Regis : 
opus erat omnem exercitum, licet non- 
dum integro congregatum, a Notlnghamia 
dimittere, venireqiie ad Leicestriam. 
Ibique compertus est numerus hominum 
pugnatorum ex parte Regis major quam 
antea visus est unquam in Anglia pro 
una parte. Die autem Dominico ante 
festvim BarthoJornei Apostoli, Rex max- 
ima pompa diadema portans in capita, 
ciun Duce NorfolchicB Johanne de Howard, 
ac Henrico Percy Comite Northninhriee, 
ceterisque magnificis Dominis, Militibus, 
& armigeris, populariumque multitudine 
infinita, opidum Leicestrense egressus, 
satis per intercursores edoctus, ubi hostes _ 
sequent! nocte de verisimili manere vole- 
bant, ad octo miliaria ab eo opido dis- 
tantia, juxta Abbathiam de Mirivall. 
castra metatus est. 

Majores autem exercitus adversantis 
hi erant: imprimis Henricus Comes do 
Bichmond, quem illi suum Regem Hcn- 
ric'um septimum appelhibant ; JoJurnacs 
Fere Comes Oxonice, Johannes Wellys 
domimis de Wellys, avunculus Regis 
Henrici septimi, Thomas dominus de 
Stanley & Willielmus frater ejus, Ed- 
wardus Widcvyll ivAtcv Elisabeth Reginae, 
valentissimus miles, Johannes Chryne, 
Johannes Savage, Bobertvs Wllloughby, 
Willielmus Berkeley, Jacobus Blunt, 
Thomas Arunddl, liichardus Egecombc, 
Edwardus Ponyngs, liichardus Gilford, 
& alii plures, tam ante banc turbation- 
em, quam in isto ingressu belli, militari 
ordine insiguiti. De Ecclesiasticis vero 
affuerant consiliarii, qui simile exilium 
perpessi sunt, venerabilis Pater Peirus 
Episcopus Exonicnsis, flos militiiB patriae 
suae, Magister Robertus Moreton Clericus 
Rotulonim Cancellarise, Orystofenis Urs- 
wyk, ^ Johannes Fox, quoinim alter Elee- 
mosynarii alter Secretarii officium postea 
consecutus est, cum aliis multis. 

Mane die Luncp, illucescento aurora, 
cum non (assent Capelhini de parte Regis 
Kichurdi parati ad celeljrandum, neque 
jcntaculum uUum paratuni, quod Regis 
taboscentem aninium rcfocillaret ; illuque, 



ut asseritur, ea nocte toi-renda somnia 
quasi multitiidiiie daeiuonum circunvlatus 
esset, viderat, sicut de mane testatus 
est ; facieni uti semper atteiiuatam, tunc 
magis discoloratani & mortifcram prte 
se tulit, affirmans quod hujus hodierni 
belli exitus, utrivis parti victoria con- 
cessa fuerit, Regnum Anglke penitus 
distruet : & expressit mentem suam 
earn fore, ut si ille victor evadit, omnes 
fautores adversse partis confnndat : idque 
ipsum idem prajdicebat, adversarium 
suum super benevolos sufe partis execu- 
tiirum, si victoria illi succedat. Denique 
ingre[die]utibus moderato passu Principe 
& militibus partis adversae super exer- 
citum Regis ; mandavit ille ut prsedictus 
dominus L'strange illico decapitaretur. 
Illi auteni quibus hoc officium datum 
est, videntes ancipitem rem nimis, ma- 
jorisque ponderis quam unius hominis 
exterminium in manibus esse, differentes 
crudele Regis mandatum exequi dimi- 
serunt hominera suo arbitrio, & ad in- 
teriora belli reversi sunt. 

Inita igitur acerrima pngna inter am- 
l)as partes. Comes Richniiindue cum mili- 
tibus suis directe super Regeni liicliard- 
u/ii processit : Comes autem Oxonke, 
major post eum in tota ipsa societate, 
valentissimus miles, in earn alam ubi 
Dux Norfolchi(B constitutus erat, magno 
tarn GnUicoriim quam Anglicornm comi- 
tatu stipatus totendit. In eo vero loco 
ubi Comes NorthumbricB cum satis decenti 
ingentique militia stabat, nihil adversi 
neque datis neque susceptis belli ictibus 
cernebatur. Ad postremum, gloriosa 
Dicto [sic-] Comiti liichmundke, jam soli 
Regi victoria, una cum pretiosissima Co- 
rona quam Rex Richardiis ante gestavit 
in capitc, coelitus data est. Nam inter 
pugnandum, & non in fuga, dictus Rex 
Eichardus multis letalibus vulneribus 
ictus, quasi Princeps animosus & auden- 
tissimus in campo occubuit. Deindo 
praefato Dnco Norfolchice, Richardo Rat- 

clyff Milite, Roberto Brakenhiiry Milite, 
Constabulario Turris Londoniarum Jo- 
himiiem \sk'^ Kendall Secretario, Roberto 
Percy Milite, Controrotulatore hospitii 
Regii, ac Waltero Deveercux Domino de 
Ferrcis, & multis, maximo Borealibus, 
in quibus Rex Richardiis adeo confitebat, 
\_sic] ante uUas consertas manus fugara 
iueuntibus : nuUae partes digure sive habi- 
les remanserunt, in quas gloriosus victor 
Hc7irki(s Septimus alicujus pugnfe ex- 
perientiam denuo renovaret. Pace igitur 
ex hoc bello universe Regno concessa, 
inventa [sic] inter alios mortuos corporo 
dicto Rkhardi Regis, . . . Multasque 
alias contiunelias illatas, ipsoque non 
satis humaniter propter funem in collum 
adjectum usque ad Lekestriam deportato ; 
novus Rex Corona tam insigniter con- 
quaesita decoratus Lcicestriam vadit. 
Dumque hsec itii se haberent, multi 
nobiles atque alii in captivitatem redact! 
sunt. Atque in primis Henrkus Comes 
Northiimbrke, Thomas de Hoioard Comes 
Siirrei, primo genitus dicti defnnctl Ducis 
Norfolchke: captus est etiam Wdlkhnus 
Catesby, qui inter omnes consiliarios 
defuncti jam Regis praeminebat ; cujus 
caput apud Lekestrkim pro ultima re- 
muneratione tarn excellentis officii sui 
abscisum est. Duo autem valecti par- 
tium occiduarum Regui, pater & filius 
sub ^rec/«fr vocabulo appellati, qui post 
finitum prselium ad victorum manus de- 
venerant, laquco suspensi sunt. Et cum 
neque auditum, neque lectioni aut me- 
morise commendatum est, aliquos alios 
post recessum a bello, similibus suppli- 
ciis deputatos ; sed Principem hunc no- 
vum in omnes suam clementiam impart- 
isse ; coepit laudari ab omnibus, tanquam 
Angelas do coelo missus, per quem Dens 
dignaretur visitare plebem suam, & libe- 
rare earn do malls quibus liaetcnus af- 
flicta est supra modum. — Historue Croy- 
landensis Continuatio ; Gd\c, Rcrii))i An- 
glkarum Scriptores, tom. i. p. o72-o75. 

UOD : thai shopc both sea and Land, 

& ffor all ci'catures dyed ont tree, 
sane & kecpc the rcalme of England 
4 to Hue in peace & tranrpiillitye ! 

May Chi'ist 


Kn^laiul ill 
peacu ! 



We have 

to welcome 
Henry VII. 

would have 
so soon ? 

that Henry 
VI. was 

Let us thank 
God for 
Henry VII. 


served Jesus. 

St. George, to vs a slieild tliou bee ! 

ffor we haue cause to pray, botli old & younge, 
with a stedfast hart fFull devatlye, 
8 & say, " welcome Henbrt, right- wise ^ 'Kingl " 

welcome right- wise E^iiig, & loy royall, 

he that is grounded With grace ! 
welcome the fFortune that hath befall, 
12 which hath beene seene in many a place ! 

who wend ^ that England as itt was, 

soe suddenlye changed shold haue beene ? 
therfore lett vs thanke god of his grace, 
16 & say " welcome Henery, right- wise K.iug ! " 

how had wee need to remember, & to our minds 
how England is transported miraculouslye 
to see the great Mischeefe that hath befall 
20 sith the Martyrdome of the holy 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 T^ing ! " 

some time a ^ing raigned in this land, 

that was Edward of hye IFelicytye; 
he was dowted & dread, as I vnderstand, 
28 through all the nations in Christentye; 

he serued lesus ifull heartilye : 

these examples may be taken by him 
w7a"ch hath prcuailed him"^ w/th royaltyc 
32 to weare the crowne & be our King. 

' rinjlitwise, i.e. riglitcous. — P. A. -8. 
rihtwis. — i\ 

- wen'd, woen'd. — P. 

^ ? him superfluous, see 1. 39. — F. 




for w/tli tounge I haue heard it told, 
when Henery was in a ffar cuntrye, 

thai 3 times he was bought & sold 
throughe the might of gold & ffee. 

Henry VII. 

he serued lesus fiiill hartylye : 

this example may be said by him 
■which preuailed right royallye 
40 to weare the crowne and be our ^ing 

[page 435] did so too. 

they banished him oner the fflood, 
ouer the fflood & streames gray ; 
yett his right in England was good, 
44 as herafter know you. may. 

He was 


there was hee banished ouer the ffloode, 

& into a strange Land they can him ^ bring ; 
that time Raigned Richard w^'th royaltye, 
48 he ware the crowne & was our Kinge, 


Eichard ] II. 
was king. 

that was well scene att streames stray; 

att Milford hauen, when he did appeare 
w/th all his Lords in royall array, 
52 he said to them that wi'th him weare : 

But he 
at Milford 

" into England I am entred heare, 

my heritage is this Land w/thin ; 
they shall me boldlye bring & beare, 
56 & loose my lifFe, but He be King. 

and claimed 

his heritage, 

to be king. 

" lesus that dyed on good ffryday, 

& Marry mild thats ff'ull of might, 

send me the loue of the LorfZ Stanley ! 

60 he marry ed my mother, a Lady bright ; ^ 

He prayed 
for the 
help of 

Lord Stanley 

' MS. hin.— F. 

* Lord Stanley (afterwards Karl of 
Derby) had married as liis second wife 

the Countess of Richmond, mother of 
Henry VII. She was his wife as early 
as 1473, if not earlier.— 0. K. Adams. 




" tliai is long sith I saw lier w^'tli sight ; 

I trust in lesn wee shall meete w/th winne,' 
& I shall niaintaino her honor right 

ouer all England when I am Kinge. 

and his 
brother Sir 


" had I the Lone of thai Lord in rich array 

thai hath proned his manhood soe well att 

& his brother Sir Wilh'am, the good Stanley; — 
a better ^nighi neuer vmstrode ^ steede ! 

that noble 

" thai hath beene seene in mickle dreed : 

much was the worshipp thai happened him ; 
a more nobler ^nighi att neede 
72 came neuer to maintaine Kinge." 

But we'll 
talk of 
Richard III. 

BOW 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. 

ruined him. 

wicked councell drew 'Richard neere, 

of them thai had the prince^ in their guiding'*; 
ffor wicked councell doth mickle deere,^ 
80 tliai bringeth downe both Emperour & K«;y/. 

He con- 
to death 
who won 
Berwick for 

the Lorc^ Stanley bothe stcrne & stout, — 

he might be called fflower of fflowers, — man*' 
thai was well seene without doubt 
84 att Barwicke walls wtth towers hye ; 

' A.-S. win, pleasure. — F. 
' bestrode. — P. vm-, van-, i 
' round.'- — F. 
» Only half tlic n in llie MS.— F, 


Four strokes for id in the MS. — F. 
A.-S. dar, darn, destruction, injury. 

maun, i.e. miist. — P. 



when all the Lon?s of England let itt bee, 
thai castle wightlje can hee wiun, 

was there euer Lord in England, ffare or nere,^ 
tliai did such iorney ^ to his Kingc ? 

when no 
otliev Lord 

then Richard bade a messenger to ffare 

soe ffare ' into the west countrye 
to comfort his knights, squiers lesse & more, 
92 & to set good rule amongst his comintye. 

then wicked councell drew Rich [ard] neere : 

these Avere they "* words they said to him, 
"wee thinke yee worke vnwittylye 
96 in England, & ^ yee will continue 'King. 

His bad 

told him 
Lord Stanley 

the Lord Strange, & the Chamberlaine ^ ; these 3 ^"'^ °"iers 

o ' ' -were too 


" ffor why, the Jjord Stanley is lent ^ in this Land, 

the hord Strange, & the Chamb 
they may show vpon a day a band 

100 such as may noe Lorde in Christentye. 

" 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 be our Kinge." 

he must put 
them down.' 


then they made out messengers with mainc & mi<?ht So 

'' ° ° messengers 

soe ffarr into the west countrye ; aie sent 

to the hord Stanley tJiat noble Knight to Lord 


they kneeled downe vpon their knee 

' far or nere, or perliaps neie.— P. 

^ A day's work. — Dyce. Cp. Fr. 
Bonne iournee fait qui dc fol se delivre. 
Pro. he does an excellent day's work 
that rids himselfe of a foole, Cotgi-ave. 
— F. 

» far.— P. 

* the.— P. 

* uu, if.— F. 

* lend, to dwell, remain, tarry. — 
Halliwoll.— F. 

' John (le Vere, Earl of Oxford, Lord 
Chamberlain. — Gr. E. A. 



and bid him 

come to the 

He sets off, 

& said, " RicliarJ thai raignes with royaltye, 

Emperour of England this day w/thin, 
hee longeth you sore, my Loi'd, to see ; 
112 you must come & speake with our Kinge." 

then they Lord busked ^ him vpon a day 

To ryde to Kw^ Richarc^ with royaltye, 
& hee Sell sicke att Manchester by the way 

[page 436] 

but falls 

Chester, *°" 116 as the wiU of god is, all things must bee 

and sends on 



to know 



the Jjord 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 Avill of Richard, our Kinge." 


kneels to 


him with 
kind words 

then this honl bowned ^ him ffuU right 

to ryde to K:mg Richard hastilye. 
when hee came before his souerraigine in sight, 
124 he kneeled downe vpou his knee. 

" welcome hord strange, & kinsman nye ! " 

these were the words he said to him : 
" was ther eeuer any Baron in England of ancetrye^ 
128 shold be soe welcome to his Kinge ? " 

but froward, 

alas that evier he cold soe say, 

soe ffroward a hart as hee had vnder ! 
that was well scene after vpon a day ; 
132 itt cast him & his crowne assunder. 

& brought his body into bale & blunder, 

these wicked words he cold begin ; 
thus fialshood endeth in shame & wonder, 
136 Avhether itt be with Emperour or King. 

' busked, i.e. dressed. — P. 
'^ Lo\Micd, i.e. ptjfiifd .— F. 

ancestry. — P. 

B0!^^V01iTlI FEILDE. 


of itt heere is no more to say, 

bat shortly e to ward comanded was liee. 
new messengers were made without delay 
140 soe ffarr into the west countrye 

to the Jjonl Stanley soe wise & wittye : 

these were the words the sayd to him, 
" you must raise those that vnder you bee, 
144 & all the power that you may bringe ; 

and casts 
bini into 
come to 

and say, 

"Raise all 
your men ; 

" yonder cometh Richmond over the fflood 

w/th many allyants ' out of ffarr countrye, 
bold men of bone and blood ; 
148 the crowne of England chalengeth hee. 

" you must raise those that vnder you bee, 

& all the power that yee may bringe, 
or else the Jjord strange you must neuer see, 
152 which, is in danger of our King.'" 

Richmond is 

to claim the 
crown ; 

or you'll 

never see 


In a studye this hord can stand, 

& said, " deere lesus ! how may this bee? 

I draw wittenes to him tJiai, shope ^ both sea & 
tJtat I neuer delt w/th noe trecherye. 

Lord Stanley 

" Richard is a man tha.t hath no mercy e ; 

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 




then another messenger he did appeare 
to willmm Stanley, that noble Knight, 

asks Sir 
7 7 1 1 William 

& saith, " Richa/'rt that weareth the crowne soe Stanley 

& in his Empire raigncth right, 

i.e. allyanlis, ;iliciis. — P. 

-i.e. sliapcd. — P. 

VOL. 111. 



to help the 

■when he 

my nephew 
in hold. 

He shall 
repent it 

" willetli you to bring jour power to helpe liim to 
fFor all his trust itt is you in." 
then answered that gentle K.)iiijht, 
168 "I liaue great marueill of jour 'King ; 

"lie keepeththe[r]e my nephew, my brothers heyre; — ■ 

a truer knight is not in christentye ; — 
that, Richard shall repent flfull sore,^ 
172 fFor any thing that I can see. 

Let him arm 

and fight, 

and flee or 

By Jlary and 

I'll make 
a meal ! 

"bidd him array him wtth royalty e 

& all the power that hee may bringe ; 
fFor hee shall either ffight, or fflee, 
176 or loose his lifFe, if hee bee Kinge, 

" I make mine avow to Marye, that may, 

& to her Sonne ^//«t dyed on tree, 
I will make him such a breakefast vpon a day 
180 as neuer made Kniyht any 'King in Cristentye ! 

Tell him 

to fight and 
flee or die ! " 


" tell thou King Richard these words fFrom mee 
fFor all the power that he may bringe, 

in the fFeild he shall either ffight, or ffiee, 
or loose his lifFo or hee be Kinfje." 


tells Richard 

how all the 
reLn-'l at Lord 

then this messenger fForth hee went 

to carry to King Richa/-(Z with, royal tye, 
& saith, " in yonder country e I haue beene sent, 
188 soe greened men are not in Christentye 


He must 

fight, or flee, 

or die. ^•''^' 

" fFor loue of the Jjord strange that in bale doth bee." 
these were the words hee sayd to him : 

"you must either ffight or fflee, 

or loose your lifFe, if you bee Kinge." 

' sair (i.e. sore). — Dyce. 




atfc that King Ricliard smiled small, 

& sware, " hy lesu ffull of might, 
Avhen they are assembled w/th their powers all, 

I wold I had the great turke against me to ffight. 

swears that, 
\\ hoever 
Tpage 1:17] 

" or Prester lohn in his armor bright, 

the Sowdan of Surrey ' with them to bringe ! 
yett with manhood & with might 
200 in England I shold continue ILinrj. 

he'll still 
be king, 

" I sweare by lesu that dyed on a tree, 
& by his mother thai mayden blythe, 
ffrom the towne of Lancaster to Shrewsburye, 
204 K-nif/ht nor squier He leaue none aline. 

he'll leave no 
squire alive. 

" I shall kindle their cares rifFe, 

& glue their Lands to my 'Knights keene ; 
many a man shall repent the while 
208 that ener they rose against their King. 

" ffrom the holy-head to S' davids Land, 

where now be towers & castles hye, 
I shall make parkes & plaine ffeilds to stand, 
212 ffrythes ffairc, & fforrests ffree. 

and will lay 
waste Wales, 

" Ladyes, ' well-away ! ' shall crye ; 

widdowes shall weepe, & their hands wringe ; 
many a man shall repent that day 
216 that euer they rose against their Kinge." 




and rebels 

then he made out messengers w/'th maine & might 

throughout England ifarr & neere,^ 
to Duke, Erie, Barron, & Knight, 
220 & to eucry man in his degree. 

He sends 
all over 
for his 

' Syria. — Rubson. 




and they 
come to 
sprvfi tlieir 

the Duke of 
the Earls of 




land : 





Grey of 



Ferrers of 

Ferrers of 

you ncuer heard tell of sncli a companye 
att sowte, seege/ nor noe gatlieringe : 
p«rt of tlieir names lieere shall yee 
224 thai came tliai clay to serue their 'King. 

thither came the duke of Norffolke vpon a day, 

& the Erie of Surrey iliat was his heyre ; 
the Erie of Kent was not away, 
228 the Erie of Shrewshiiry hreme ^ as beare. 

the Erie of Lincolne ^ wold not spare, 

the Erie of ISTorthumherland ready bowne, 
the Erie of Westmoreland great othes sware, 
232 all they said 'Richard shold Keepe his crowne. 

theres was my Jjord Zouch, sad att assay ■* 

my Lor(/ Mattrevis,'' a noble 'Knight ; 

young Ai-rundell dight him vpon a day, 

236 the 'Lord wells, both wise and wight ; 

the ~Lord Gi-ay Cotner ^ in his armour bright, 

the 'Lord Bowes made him bowne, 
the Lord Audley was ffeirce to ffight, 
240 & all said 'Richard shold keepe his crowne. 

there was my Lord Bartley, sterne on a steede, 
the Lord fierryes of chartlye, the Lord flferryes of 
the Lord Bai'tley noble att neede, 
244 chamberlaine of England that day was hee. 


Scrope of 
Scrope of 

the Lord ffittz Hugh, & his cozen nyc, 

the Lord Scroope of vpsall, the Lord scroojie of 
Bolton ; 
the Lord Dacres raised all the North cuntrye ; 
248 & all said Richard shold keepe his crowne. 

' assault, sicgp. — F. 
* M.S. brcnne. "F. 
^ MS. Liiicolmo. — F. 

■• stedfast in trinl. — F. 

* Maltrcvers. — P. 

"i.e. Lord Grey of Codnor. — P. 




There was many nobles mustered to ffiglit : 
tlie Lor(7 Audley & the honJ Luraley, 

the Lo/-(? Graj-stockc ' in his armour bright, 
he brought with him a noble companye, 

he sware by lesus tltat dyed on a tree, 

' that his enemyes shold be beaten downe ; 
he was not [in] England, fiarr nor neere, 
25G ///((t shold lett^ Richard to weare his crowne.' 

Greystocke ; 

there was S/r lohn Spencer, a noble Knight, 

Sir Raph hare-bottle ^ in rich array, 
S/r william ward, alwayes that was wight, 
260 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 Richflrf? shold keepe his crowne. 

Sirs J. 

W. Waxd, 

N. Moberly, 
R. Glutton, 
O. Horsley, 

there was Sir Henery Percy,'* sterne on steede, h. Percy, 

Sir Roger Bowmer in his companye, 
Si'r RicharcZ Manners, noble att neede, R- Manners, 

2G8 Soe was Sir Henery the hend Hatteley ; [page 438] 

Si'r 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 lohn the Gray, 

& Sir Thomas of Mountgomerye ; 
Sir Rodger Sanfort was not away ; 
276 ffrom London came Sir Robert Brakenburye ; 

E. Conway, 

W. Aker- 

Jn. Gray, 

R. Sanfort, 

' Ralph, Lord Greystock, who died in 
1487, without male issue, when the 
barony became united with that of Dacre. 
— G. E. Adams. 

^ hinder. — Robson. 

> Harbottle.— P. 

* S/r Henry Percy.— P. 



R. Robbj-e, 


Sir Henery Bowdrye was not away, 

Bor yett S/r 'Richard the good Chorlton ; 

S/r Raphe Rohbye made him yare ; 

all said Hichard wold keepe his crowiie. 

M. Con- 

W. Conyers, 

there was S/r Marmaduke Constable, a noble 'Kn'ujhi, 

of 'K.incj Richards councell hee was nye ; 
S/r wilHam Conyous,^ allwayes iliai was wight, 
284 Sir Robert Thribald w/th his meanye ; 

M. Wardlo}', 

R. Rosse, 

soe was Sir Martine of the wardley, 
& Si'r Richard the good Hortton, 
& S/r Richarc^ Rosse sware smartlye 
288 thai 'King RichartZ shold keepe his crowne. 

R, Sturley, 

G. Clyfton, 

There was S^r Robert, the sterne Sturley ; 

Sir lohn of Melton, thither Came hee, 
Sir Graruis Clyfton ^ in rich array, 
292 Sir Henery Perpoint in his degree, 

T. North, 

H. Stafford, 

Sir Thomas North with royalty e, 
& alsoe Sir lohn of Babington, 
S/r Humphrey Stafford sware certainelye 
296 that 'King Richftyci shold keepe his crowne. 

R. Ryder, 

J. Hunting- 

there was S/r Robert Ryder, a man of might, 

S/r Robej-t Vtridge in his dignity e ; 
S/r lohn Huntington was ffeirce to ffight, 
300 soe was S/r lohn willmarley. 

R. Swayley, 

"W. Staple- 

S/r Robert Swayley w/th royalltye, 

& alsoe S/r Bryan of stableton,^ 
& S/r mlliam his cozen nye, 
304 & all said Richard shold keepe his crowne. 

Conyers. — P. 

Sir Gervase Clyfton. 

fSir Erj'iin Stapleton. — P. 



Tliere was S/r Rich<irc? Ratcliflfe, a noble 'Knight, 
of King Ricliarcls councell was liee ; 

Sir William liis brother was ffeirce to ffigbt, 
& Si'r Thomas, they were brethren 3. 


R. Ratcliffe, 
W. Ratcliffe, 

& Sir Richrt/vi the Mallinere, 

& S/r lohn the good Hortton, 
& Sir Thomas the good Mallynere, 
312 & all said Rich[ai'd] shold keepe his crowne. 

R. Mal- 

T. Mally- 

There was Sir Raphe Dacres out of the North, 

& Sir Christopher the Moresbje ' ; 
Sir Wilham Musgreaue was stiffe to stand, 
316 soe was Sir Alexander ffawne in his dignitye. 

R. Dacres, 

W. Mus- 

G. Murken- 

S('r George MurkenfFeild behind wold not bee, 

nor yett Sir Thomas the doughtye Bronghton ; 
Sir Christo-pher Owen made him readye, c. Owen, 

320 & all sayd Rich[ard] shold weare his crowne. 

there was S/r walliam Tempest out of the vale, 

& Sir RicharcZ his cozen nye ; 
Sir Raph Ashton, hee made not ffaile, 
324 S/r Tho7»«s Maclefeild^ in Companye, 

Sir Richard ward behind wold not bee, 

nor yett S/r Robert of Middle ton ; 
S/r lohn Coleburne sware eertainelye 
328 that King Richard shold kcepc his crowne, 

there was S/r lohn Neviill ^ of bloud soe hye, 

S/r lohn Hurlstean ■* in rich arraye, 
S/r Rodger Heme behind wold not bee, 
332 S/r lames Harrington, sad att assay. 

' perhaps Thorosby.- -P. Perhaps 
ncjt. — Adams. 

■' Kir Thomas Macklcsfifld.— P. 

« NeA-illc— P. 

" ? MS. Ilurfslean.- 

W. Tempest, 

R. Ashton, 

R. Ward, 

J. Cole- 

J. Neville, 

R, Ilerno, 

J. Harring- 



R. HaiTiiig- 

All swear 
shall reign. 

2 sliireg 
fight for 






Sir Robert his brother was not away, 
nor jett S/r Thomas of Pilkinton ; 
& all these, great othes sware they 
33G that ILliuj Richart? shold keepe his crowne. 

had wee not need to lesu to pray, 

tliai made the world, the day & night, 
to keepe vs out of bale and woe ? 
340 2 shires against all England to fRght, 

& maintaine Henery that came ffor his right, 

& in the realme of England was ready bowne ! 
ffreinds, & yee will hearken me right, [page 439] 

344 I shall tell you how Henery gott his crowne. 

the LorcZ Stanley sterne and stout, 

thai euer hath beene wise and wittye, 
ffrom Latham Castle w/thouten doubt 
348 vppon a munday bowned hee 

and marches 

Sir Wm. 

marches to 


with the 
flower of 
Cheshire ; 

With 'Knights & squiers in companye. 

they had their banners in the sunn glitteringe ; 
they were as ifeirce as fiawcon to fflye, 
352 to maintaine Henery that was their 

then this LojyZ 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. 

S^r wilHam Stanley wise and wight, 

ffrom the castle of Holt with holts hye 
to the Nantwich hee rydeth straight, 
3C0 & tooke his men wages of gold and ffeo. 

all the north wales ffor the most partye, 

the fflower of Cheshire, w/th him hee did bringe ; 
better men were not [in] christentye 
364 that euer came to maintaine their 'King. 



Erly vpon Twesday att Morne 

S/r Avilliam Stanley, tliai Noble Knit/ht, 
remoued ffrom l^aiitwiclie to the to\^aie of stone,- 
368 by tlien was Henery come to Stafford straight, - 

thence to 

be Longed sore to see bim in sigbt, 

& straight to Stafford towne is gone,* 
& kneeled do^^Tie anon-right, 
372 & by the hand be bath bim tane : 

from whence 
he goes to 
meet Henrv, 

bee said, " I am ffull glad of thee ; " 

& these were the words be said to bim : 
" through the belpe of my hord thy ffatber,^ & thee, 
376 I trust in Eno-land to continue Kinase." 

wlio is full 
glad of him. 


then he bent that noble prince by the band, 

& said, " welcome my soue/Taigne K/im Henery ! He exhorts 


chalenge thy Herytage & thy Land, to claim his 

that thine owne is, & thine shall bee. crown, 

" be Eger to ffight, & lothe to fiBee ! 

let manhood be bredd thy brest w/tbin ! 
& remember another day who doth ffor thee, 
384 of all England when thou art Kinge." 

be eager to 

and, when 
he wins, 
to remember 
his friends. 

after, there was noc more to say, 

but leaue of the prince he bath taken,^ 
& came againe by light of the day 
388 to the btle prettye towne of stone. 

Then Sir 

to Stone. 

Early vpon Satuixlay att morne, 

to Licbffeild they remoue, both old & younge.'* 
att woosley bridge them beforne, 
392 there had they a sigbt of our Kinge. 

On Saturday 

he marches 
to Lichfield 

' r/ane (i.e. gone). — Dyee. 
- This should be " /brother" : Thomas, 
Lord Stanley, the father of Sir William, 

and the then (148;")) Lord Stanley, having 
died in 1458. — Adams. 

^ tane. — P. ■* yhicje. — Dyee. 



with a 

and rides 
tlirougli the 

Then he 

that Lord 

is about to 



& to Licliefeild tliey ridden rigbt, 

With answerable army came royallye : 
to nomber tlie companye that was with the K»/j//<t, 
396 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 thai was on heneryes pa?-te, our Kinge. 

throughout Lichefeild rydeth the Knight, 

on the other side there tarryed hee ; 
a messenger came to him straight, 
404 & kneeled do"\vne vpon his knee, 

& saith, " the hord Stanley is his enemy nye, 

that are but a litle way ffrom him ; 
they will ffight w/thin these houres 3 
408 With RicharcZ that is Enoflands King^e." 

He passes 
on to 

and joins 



On Sunday 
they set 
their battle 
in array, 




'■Hhat 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 beo, 

With trumpetts & tabours tempered with him : 
itt was a comelye sight to see 
416 as euer was to maintaine Kinge. [page440] 

All that night there tarryed they, 

& vpon the Sunday gods service did see. 
toward the iFeild they did them array ; 
420 the vawward the Jjord Stanley tooke hee. 

Sir William Stanley the rerward wold bee, 

& his Sonne Sir Edward with a wiugc. 
the did remaine in their array 
424 to waite the coming: of Richajr? Kinc 



then tliey Looked to a fForrest sjde, 

they hard trumpetts & taboiu's tempered on hye : 
they thought 'King Richa7'cZ had comen there, 
428 & itt was the Noble prince, K(»^ Heneryb. 

But Henry 
first comes, 

oner a riuer then rydeth hee ; 

he brake the ray, & rode to him : 
itt was a comelye sight to see 
432 the meeting of our Ijord & Kinge. — 

(comely it 
was to see 
the meeting) 

then in their host there did ffall affray 

. a litle time before the night ; — 
you neuer saAV men soe soone in their array 
436 w/th ffell weapons ffeirce ffor to ffight. — 

vpon a kcene courser that was Avight, 

other Lor(Zs with him hee cold bringe ; 
thus in array came ryding straight, 
440 Henery of England, our noble Kinge. 

on a swift 

our noble 

he lowted low & tooke his hatt in his hand, 

& thanked the states ^ and cominaltye : 
" to quitt ^ you all I vnderstand ; 
444 I trust in lesu tJtat 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 yec, 
448 that euer was betweene 'King and King. 

He thanked 

the lords 
and com- 
and said he 
hoped to re- 
quite them. 


Kinn Henery desired tlie vaAvard right he asked to 

•' '^ , . lead tlie 

of the LorcZ Stanley that was both wise & wittye; van. 
& hee hath granted him in sight, 
452 & saith " but small is jour companye." 

' nobles. — F. 

(juitr, i.e. rcqiiito. — P. 




Stanley gave 
it him, 
with 4 good 


4 of the N'oble Kuiyhts tlien called hee ; 

tlieir names to you then shall I minge ; 
he bade array them w/th their chiualrye, 

& o-oe to the vaward with our Kinge: 

Tunstaii, S/r Robe/'t Tunsall, a Noble Knight, 

& come of royall anceytree ; 
Savage, St'r lohn Savage, wise & wight, 

Perschaii, 460 Sir Hugh Persall ; there was 3 : 



Sir Humphrey Stanley the 4*!" did bee, 
that proued noble in euerye thinge ; 
they did assay them w/th their chiualrye, 
464 & went to the vaward \v/tli our kinge. 

has two 

the Lore? Stanley both sterne and stout, 

2 battells that day had hee 
of hardye men, wi'thouten doubt 
468 better were not in christentye. 

Sir Wm. 

has the 

Sir william, wise and worthye, 

was hindmust att the outsettinge ; 
men said that day that dyd him see, 
472 hee came betime ^ vnto our ^ing. 

He sees 
host : 

five miles 
of men, 

then he remoued vnto a mountaine full hye, 

& looked into a dale ffull dread ; 
5 miles compasse, no ground they see, 
476 ifor armed men & trapped steeds. 

in four 

thejT armor glittered as any gleed ^ ; 

in 4 strong battells they cold fforth bring ; 
they seemed noble men att need 
480 as euer came to maintaine [a] 'King. 

' MS. betinc— F. 

^ burning coal. — Dyce. 



tlic duke of Norfolke ^ avanted ^ his banner ^ bright, Norfolk 

soe did the younge Erie of Shrewsburye, 
to the sun & wind right speedylye dight, 
soe did OxfFord, thai Erie, in companye. 

to tell the array itt were hard ffor me, 

& they Noble power that they did bring. 
And of the ordinance ^ heere shall yee, 
488 tlmi had tliat day Richard our Kinge. 

[page 441] Their 


they had 7 scores Sarpendines "'' w/thout dout, 

thai were locked & Chained vppon a row, 
as many bombards '• thai were stout ; 
492 like blasts of thunder they did blow. 

10000 Morespikes ^ wtth-all, 

& harquebusyers, throwlye can the thringe 
to make many a noble man to ffall 
496 thai was on Henerys part, our kinge. 

140 ser- 



and harqne- 

^ K-ing Richard looked on the mountaines hye, 

& sayd, " I see the banner of the Jjorcl Stanley 
he said, " ffeitch hither the Juord Strange to mee. 

500 ffor doubtlesse hee shall dye this day ; 

Richard sees 

" I make mine avow to Marye, thai may, 

thai all the gold this Land within 
shall not saue his liflfe this day, 
504 in England iff I be Kinge ! " 

shall die. 

' Norfolk was on the side of Richard. 
Shrewsbur?/, a minor, pi'ohably with his 
nnclo Sii' Grilbert Talbot, was on the side 
of Henry. Oxford was a chief com- 
mander of Henry's side. — Adams. 

^ availed, or perhaps avanced. — P. 
advanced, raised. — Dyce. 

3 MS. bamcr.— F. 

'' Fr. Artillcric, f., ArtiUerio, Ordnance. 
Cotgrave. — F. 

^ a kind of cannon. Halliwell. l"r. 

Serpentine, the Artillerie called a Ser- 
pentine or Basiliskoe. Cotfjjrave. — F. 

" See Florio, ed. 1611, pp. 100, 112, 
127. Halliwell. Yv.Bomharde. A Bnm- 

bard, or mnrthering peece. Cotgrave. 


' a largo pike. Halliwell. — F. 

* A. -8. \>riHgan =to rush. -F. 

" Vide Pag. 478. St. 236, & .sequent' 
[Tlie 6'h Part of Ladyc Bcs.^i//r, below.] 



Strange Is 
brought out ; 


then they brought the LonZ Strange into his sight 
he said, " fFor thy death make thee readye." 

then answered tliat noble 'Knight, 

& said, " I crye god & the world mercy e ! 

Christ to 
that he never 
was a 

" & lesus, I draw wittnespe to thee 

thai all the world fFroni woe did winn, 
since the time thai I borne did bee, 
512 was I neuer traitor to my Kinge." 

He sends a 
to his 

a gentleman then called hee, — 

men said Latham was his name, — 
" & euer thou come into my countiye, 
516 greete well my gentlemen eche one; 

and jeonien, " my yeomen Large of blood and bone, 

sometimes we had mirth att our meetinge ; 
they had a M.aster, & now they haue none, 
520 ffor heere I must be martyred w/th the Kinge. 

a ring to his 

there he tooke a ring of his ffingar right, 

& to thai squier raught itt hee, 
& said, "beare this to my Lady bright, 
524 for shee may thinke itt longe or shee may ' sec : 

and hopes 

they all may 
meet in 

" yett att doomes day meete shall wee, — 

I trust in lesu tliai all this world shall winn- 
In the celestyall heauen vpon hye 
528 in presence of a Noble 'King. 

If Henry 

his son is to 
be taken 
abroad ; 

" & the ffeild be lost vpon our partye, — 

as I trust in god itt shall not bee, — 
take my eldest sonuc thai is my hcyrc, 
532 & filee into some ffarr countrye. 





" yett the cliild a man may bee, — 
liee is comen of a Loyc?s kiim, — 

another day to reuenge mee 

of Richard of England, if he be KZ/iy." 

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 tinie about this to be. 
see yee not the vawai-ds begining to flight ? 
540 when yee haue the ffather, the vnckle, all 3, 


that the vans 
arc ligliting, 

" looke what death you will haue them to dye ; 

att your will you may them deeme." 
through these ffortunate words eskaped hee 
.544 out of thfe danger of Hichard the Kinge. 

waits to 


the Stanleys; 

and Strange 



then the partyes countred ^ together egerlye. 

when the vawards began to ffight, 
King Henery ffought soe manflfullye, 
548 soe did Oxford, that Erie soe wight ; 

Henry fights 

Sir lohn Sauage, /A(6t hardy Knight, 

deathes dints he delt that day 
wi'th. many a white hood in fight, 
552 that sad men were att assay. 

and so do 

Sa' Gilbert Talbott was not away, 

but stoutly stirred him in that ffight 
with, noble men att assay 
55G he caused his enemyes lowe to light. 


Sir Hugh Persall, with sheild & speare 

ffuU doughty lye that day did hee ; 
he bare him doughtyc in this warr, 
560 as a man of great degree. 

and Pearsall. 

.V. fncouuttTcd. — P. 



Eichard has 
40,003 men. 


'King 'Richard did in liis army stand, 
he was n[u]rabred to 40000 and 3 

of hardy men of hart and hand, 

that vnder his banner there did bee. 

Sir William 


attacks him. 

Arrows fly, 
guns shoot: 

men begin to 


take to their 

and his men 



A knight 
Eichard to 

Sir WilHam Stanley wise & Avorthie [page 442] 

remembred the brea[k]flFast ' he hett to him ; 
downs att a backe then cometh hee, 
568 & shortlye sett vpon the Kinge. 

then they conntred together sad & sore ; 
arcliers they lett sharpe arrowes fflee, 
they shott guns^ both ffell & ffarr, 
572 bowes of vewe^ bended did bee, 

springalls * spedd them speedylye, 

harquebnsiers pelletts throughly did thringe ; 
soe many a banner began to swee ^ 
576 that Avas on RichrtctZs p«)'tye, their King, 

then our archers lett their shooting bee, 

With ioyned weapons were growden ^ ifiill right, 
brands rang on basenetts hje, 
580 battell-axes ffast on helmes did light. 

there dj^ed many a doughtye Knight, 
there vnder fFoot can the thringe ; 
thus they ffought w/th maine & might 
584 that was on Henekyes part, our King. 

then to King Richard there came a Knight,'^ 

& said, " I hold itt time ffor to fflee ; 
ffor yonder Stanleys dints they be soe wight, 
588 against them no man may dree. 

' See line 179, page 242.— F. * swpe, qn. pcrliaps flee— P. sway 

^ M.S. gums.— F. ^ yewe.— P. (& fall).— P. 

* Springal, an ancient military engine ° ? grownden. — P. 
for castingstones and arrows. Halliwcll. ' Vide Pag. 479, St. 255 [of MS., last 
F. part of Lad^c Bcsdyc], et sequcntes. — P. 




" lieere is thy liorsse att thy hand readye ; 

another day thou may thy worshipp win, 
& ffor to raigne vfith. royal tyc, 

to weare the crowne, and be our K/»r/." 

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 soc hyc ! battle-axe 

ami crown : 

ho will die a 

596 of England this day I will dye ! 

" one ffoote will I neuer fflee 

whilest the breath is my brest w/thin ! " 
as he said, soe did itt bee ; 
600 if hec lost his liffe, if he were King. 

and never 

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 I^orffolke that day the slowe. 

is slain ; 

Norfolk too, 

the LorfZ fferrers & many other moe, Lord 

'' Ferrers, 

boldlye on bere they can them bringe ; 
many a noble 'Knight in his hart Avas throwe, 
608 that lost his liffe with Richard the King. 

there was slaine Sir Jiichard Ratcliffe, a noble sir Richard 


of King Richards councell was ffull nyc ; 
Sir william Conyas,' allwayes that was wight, 
& Sir Robert of Brakenburye. 

a Knight there dyed that was ffull doughtye, 

that was Sir Richard the good Chorlton ; 
that day there dyed hee 
G)G With Richard of England iJiat ware the crowne. 

Sir William 

and Sir 


Conyirs. — P. 



Sir William 

was killed, 


amongst all other ILnigJiis, remember 
which, were hardy, & therto wight : 

S/r william Brandon was one of those, Heneryes Standard he kept on height. 

& vanted itt with manhood & might 

vntill With dints hee was dr[i]uen dowiie, 
& dyed like an ancyent ILnight, 
624 With Henery of England that ware the crowne. 

and also 
Sir P. 


Sir Perciuall Thriball, the other hight, 

& noble K.night, & in his hart was true ; 
King Richards standard hee kept vpright 
628 vntill both his leggs were he wen him froe ; 

to the ground he wold neuer lett itt goe, 

whilest the breath his brest was w/thin ; 
yett men pray ffor the K.nights 2 
632 that ener was soe true to their Kins:. 

Henry is 



and Lord 

then they moned to a mountaine on height, 

With a lowde voice they cryed hing Hene.iy ; 
the crowne of gold that was bright, 
636 to the Jjord Stanley deliuered itt bee. 

hands the 
crown of 
England to 

anon to King Henery deliucred itt hee, 

the crowne that was soe deliuered to him, 
& said, " methinke ye are best worthye 
640 to weare the crowne and be our King." 

They ride to 

Then they rode to Leister that night [page 4i3j 

with our noble prince K-ing Heneeye ; 
they brought Ki?i^ Hichard thither with might 
64 ■! as naked as he borne niiu'ht bee, 



& iu Newarke • Laid was liee, 

tliai nmny a one might looke on him. 

thus fFortunes raignes most maruelouslyc 
both w/th Emporoiu" & w/th king. 


and lay 
body in 



now this doubtfull day is bronght to an end, 
lesu now on their soules haiie raercye ! 

& hee [that] dyed this world to amend, 
saue Stanleys blood, where- soeuer they bee, 

to remaine as Lorr/s w/th royal tye 

when truth & conscyence shall spread & spring, 
& thai they bee of councell nye 

to lames ^ of England thai is our 'King ! 


Jcsu have 
mercy on 
their souls, 

and pave 
as Lords 
truth shall 
spread ! 

' A place in Leicester so called. — P. 
^ This Poem was certainly written 
before the time of K/?;g James, but some 

transcriber applied the Prayer to the 
reigning Prince. — P. 

s 2 


This sou^- is to be found among- " The Ayres that tvere suncj and 
played at Brouyhatn 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. George Mason and Mr. John Earsden. Printed 
l)y Thomas Snodham, 1618." They were reprinted by John 
Stafford Smith in Miisica Antiqua ; and in the preface to tliat 
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." Tiic 
verse here referred to begins " Dido wept." 

D'Urfey reprinted the song, with this third verse, in Pills to 
2'jurge Melancholy, yo\. 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 
Avliole 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 Farliainent of 
Threadbare Foets, 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 — - 

Wliere were they, Clora, when you fell in love 

With the old footman for singing Queen Dido ? 

In C'larh'S IF.'s reign, Sir Robert Howard (speaking of hini- 
' lu praise of Inconstancy. — P. 



self) said : " In my 3'ounger 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, suug 
that way, was some ornament to the pen of Virgil." {Poertis and 
Essays, 8vo, 1673.) 

"The most excellent History of The Duchess of Suffolk's 
Calamity," printed in 1G07, was sung to the tune of Queen Dido. 
Several more are quoted in Popular Music of the Olden Tirae, 
vol. i. pp. 371-2.— W.C. 

UlDO : was a Carthage Queene, 

& loued a Troian Ku/r/7/t, 
[that] "wandering,^ many a costs had seene, 

& raanj a bloody flight, 
as they on hunting [rode,^] a shower 
drone them in a foiling liower, 

downe to a darkesome Cane, 
wheras ^neas wi'th his chamies 
locket Queene didon in his amies, 

& had what hee wold craue. 

Dido loved 

and in a cavo 

he locked Ijer 
in his ai'HiR. 




Dido Hymens rites fiforgett,^ 

lier loue was winged with hast ; 
her honor shee regarded not, 

but in her brest him placet, 
but when their loues were new begun, 
louo sent downe his winged sonne 

to fFright Aeneas sleepe, 
who bade him l^y the breake of day 
fFroni Quee7te dido steals away, 

which made her wayle and Avccpe. 

But Jove 

ordered liiin 

' MS. wondcriiifT. — F. who w.uul? — P. 

^ wcnl. — P. rode, in ihe otlur cujiy. — W. C. 

' f(jrK0t.- P. 



and Dido 


.apneas did 
no wrong, as 
he was 
forced to go. 

Learn lords, 
to be 

r.iid get new 



dido wept, but wliat of this ? 

the gods wold haue itt see ; 
Aeneas nothing did amisse, 

fFor he was fForcte to goe. 
Learne, Lordings, Learne \ no ffaith to keepe 
w<^th jour loues, but lett them weepe; 

itts ffolly to be true ; 
And lett this story serue jour turne, 
& lett 20 didoes burne, 

soe you gett dalye ^ new. 


' thmi in the oilier copy, — W, C. 

daily.— P. 

[" As it heffell on a Day,'''' printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, ])■ 82, fuUows 
here in the MS. p. 444.] 


This is a much abridged and somewliat mutilated version of the 
charming and most popular old romance, The Squyr of Lowe 
Degre,"^ reprinted by Eitson from Copland's edition, in his Ancient 
English Metrical Romances ; reprinted again more accurately 
by Mr. Hazlitt in his Early Popular Poetry ; liberally quoted 
from by Warton in his History of English Poetry. The " Squyr 
of Lowe Degree," as Mr. Hazlitt (ii. 22) points out, " was licensed 
to John Kyng on the 10th of June, 1560, with several other 
articles ; but no impression by King has hitherto come to light." 
The following may possibly be a copy of King's edition. 

With one part of the story — the tender care with which the 
supposed remains of her lover are preserved by the king's 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 tbe crowne, 
against the & against the ffee : 
in England tarry no longer durst hee, 
ffor hee was vexed beyond the ffome ^ 
into the K.mgs Land of Hungarye. 
he was no sooner beyond the ffbme, 
but into a service he was done ; 

' A poor imperfect Old Ballad. Of 
very moderaU' excfllence : yet curious. 
This ia a mutilated incorrect copy of tlio 
ancient Komanco intitlod 77/c Squire of 
Low Dcfjree. (So I once thot, but upon 
Comparing them I find them, very difFo- 
rcnt.) This seems to differ from tho 
printed Romance of the Squier of Low 

An English 
offended his 

and had to 
flee to 

There lie 
took service 

Degree about as nmcli as tliat of Sir 
Lambwell in pag. 60 [of MS., vol. i. 
p. 142 of print] does from that of Sir 
Launfal, & probably for the same Rea- 
son — vid. supra, p. 60. — P. 

- Or Vndo your door c: 1132 lines. — F. 

' Sea, qu.— P. 




the King's 


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 
his want of 

and birth 
that he 
might win 
his Latly. 

She heard 









and asked 

whom he 

sucli a service lie cold liim gett, 

lie sei'ued the Kings daiigiiter in her seate ; 

such a service he was put in, 

he serued the K.mgs daughter Mviih. bread & wine ; 

he serued this Lady att table and Chesse 

till hee had woone her loue to his.' 

he was made vsher of the hall, 

the setter of the LorcZs both great & small.^ 

the Squier was soe curterous & kind,^ 

Euery man loued him & was his ffreind. 

& alwaies when the Squier was woe, 

into his arbour he wold goe ; 

the maple trees were ffaire & round, 

the ffilbert hangs downe to the ground, 

the lay iangles them amonge, 

the marttin song many a ifaire songe, 

the sparrow spread vpon her spray, 

the throstle song both night and day, 

the swallow swooped too and flfroe : 

the squii^es 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 iFee, 

mai^ry 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, 

& heard the Sqiiier still mourning ; 

shee pulled fforth a pin of luorye, 

like the sun itt shone by and by ; 

shee opened the Casement of a glasse, 

shee saw the squier well where hee was, 

" Squier," shee sayes, " ffor whose sake 

is tltat mourning that thou dost make ? " 

' Compjiro Thomas of Potte, p. 136 aLove. — F. 
2 See Kusscll's Bokc of Nurture, 1. 1001.— F. 

lionil, i. 0. gentle. — P. 



" Ladye," he sayes, " as I doe see, [page 445] 

44 of my mourniuge I dare not tell yee, 

ffor you wold complaine vnto our K/v/r/, 

& 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 hauc, 

another ffashion you must itt craue, 

ffor you must to the ffeild, & ffight, 
52 & di-esse you like & other mse Knight ^ ; 

& euer the fformost I hold you ffirst, 

& euer my ffather hold you next, 

& hee will take such ffavor to yee, 
56 soone marryed together wee shalbee." 

"Lady," he sales, " iliai 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 ffec, 

strenght of men & royaltye." 

shee went to a Chest of luorye, 
64 & ffeitcht out a 100'! and 3 : 

" Squier," shee sales, " put this in good Lore ; 

when this is done, come ffeitch thee more." 

slice had no sooner these words all said, 
68 but men about her chamber her ffather had Laid : 

" open yowr doore, my Lady alone, 

heere is twenty, I am but one." 

" I will neuer my dore vndoe 
72 ffor noe man thai comes me to, 

nor I will neuer my dore vnsteake "^ 

vntill I heare my ffather speake." 

then they tooke the Squier alone, 
76 & put him into a chamber of ffrom ^ ; 


and told him 

that if he 
would have 
her love, 

ho must 
fight and 
like a 

and then 
they could be 

" But I have 
no armour." 

The Lady 


him 103?. 

and promises 
him more. 

The King's 

■wlio have 
lain in wait. 

take the 
Squire, put 
him in 

' Anothcr-guesse Knir/Itt ; qu. — P, 
* i. c. unfiiston, open. — P. 

^ licr from, qu. — P. ? frame; 
ffrane, 1. 153.— F. 




set a corpse 

at her 



and mangle 
his face. 

The Lady- 
gets up, 

opens her 
door, and the 
corpse falls 
on the floor. 

She thinks 

her Squire is 

She says she 
will bury his 

embalm his 


and keep it 

at her bed's 


till it can be 
kept no 
longer : 

then she'll 
bury it, and 
say her daily 
prayers on 

Also she'll 

nothing but 








& to the gallow tree tliey be gone, 

& ffeitched dowtie a hanged man. 

the Leaned him to her chamber dore, 

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 ; 

the Lady rose vpp by and by 

naked as eue?- shee was borne, 

sauing a mantle her beforne ; 

shee opened the chamber dore, 

the dead man ffell vpon the fflore. 

" alacke," shee saith, " & woe is aye ! 

something to Long that I haue Lay, 

alacke," shee sais, " that euer I was borne ! 

Sqnier, now thy liife dayes are fforlorne ! 

I will take thy ffingars & thy fflax,' 

I will throwe them well in virgins wax ; 

I will thy bowells out drawe, 

& bury them in christyan graue ; 

I will wrapp thee in a wrapp ^ of lead, 

& reare thee att my beds head. 

Squier," shee sayes, " in powder thoust Lye ; 

longer kept thou cannott bee ; 

I will chest thee in a chest of stree, 

& spice thee well yvith. spicerye, 

<% bury thee vnder a marble stone, 

& eueiy day say my praiers thee vpon, 

& euery day, whiles I am woman aliue, 

for thy sake gett masses flB.ue. 

through the praying ^ of our Lady alone, 

saued may be the soule of the hanged man. 

Squier," shee sais, " now ffor thy sake 

I will neuer weare no clothing but blacke. 

' X.-?>. fcax, \\iuv of the lioad.- 
^ Wrapper. — P. 

s Only half the n in the MS.— F, 





Squier," sliee sais, " lie neuer lookc att other thing, 

nor neiici" wcare mantle nor ringe." 

her iFather stood vnder an easing ^ bore, 

& heard his daughter mourning euer more ; 

" daughter," he sais, " iFor Avhose sake 

is that sorrow thai still thou makes ? " 

" ifather," shee sais, " as I doe see, 

itt is ffor no man in Christentye. 

ffather," shee sayes, "as I doe thriue, [page44G] 

120 itt is ffor noe man this day ahue ; 

ffor yesterday I lost my kniffe ; 

much rather had I haue lost my liffe ! " 

" 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 

tJiat [can] smith you^ such a one." 

"daughter," hee sais, "to-morrow I will a hunting 
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, 

but all this will not comfort mee." 

" daughter," he sais, " thou shalt sitt att thy meate, 

& see the ffishes in the ffiloud leape." 

" ffather," shee sais, " godamercy, 

but all this will not comfort mee." 

" thy shcetes they shall be of they Lawnc, 

.thy blanketts of the (fine ffustyan." 

" ffathe[r,] " shee sais, &c.". 

" & to thy bed I will thee bring, 

many torchcrs ffaire burninge." 

" ffather," shee sais, &c. 




Her father 

asks whom 
she's sorrow- 
ing for. 

" No man 


I've lost my 


" I'll get 
blade for 

Come and 
see me hunt 

"That won't 



" I'll give 
you some 

sheets and 

' Easing, i. e. Eves of a house. — P. 
? Building with eaves. lior, bore, a 
place used for slicltcr, especially hy 
smaller animals. Sir Tristrem. Easin- 

fiang, a course of sheaves projecting a 
little at the easin, to keep the rain from 
getting in. Jamieson. — F. 
'■^ that can smithe you, &c. — P. 



shall play to 
you, and 

pepper and 
burn for 

Why are 
you so 

I have your 
lover I " 

He brings 
the Squire to 

she swoons, 

but recovers 
when kissed. 

She marries 
the Squire. 
Kings come 
to her 

The feast 
lasts 34 days, 

and the 
lovers live 
over 30 








" If tliou cannott sleepe, nor rest take, 

tliou slialt liaue Minstrells w/th thee to wake.^ " 

" ffather," sliee sais, &c. 

" pepcr & Cloues shall be burninge, 

iliat 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.^ 
when shee looked the Squier vpon, 
in a dead swoone shee ffell anon, 
throng 3 kissing of thai worthye wight, 
vprisse thai Lady bright. 

" ffather," shee sayes, " how might you for sinu 
haue kept vs 2 loners in twin ? " 
"daughter," he said, " I did ffor no other thingc 
but thought to haue marryed thee to a KiiKj." 
to her Marriage came Kings out of Spaine, 
& Kings out of Almaigne, 
& Kings out of ISTormandye, 
att this Ladyes wedding ffor to bee. 
a long month and dayes 3, 
soe long lasted this Mangerye.* 
30 winters and some deale moe, 
soe longe lined these Loners too. lliniS. 

' A.-S. waccan, to watch. — F. 
2 as white as ivory. — F. 

3 ffor is marked out for tkroug. — F. 
* Mangeryo, i. e. eatiug, feasling. — P. 

[" Blame not a Woman," printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, j). 84',fn]hnvs 
here in the MS. p. 446.] 


(9 i^oijlc fffstui^ : ' 

[page 447] 

This piece is, as Percy mentions, " printed in a Collection of 
Songs called the Eump, 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, 
" abont 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,]" sa3^s 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, 
\Yhich, when it becomes an oak, Grod alone knows what will be 
the fruit thereof.' " John Gifford, Ezekiel Culverwell, Jeremiah 
Burroughs, Stephen Marshall, Thomas Shephard, Nathaniel 
Ward, Samuel Crooke, John Cotton, Thomas Hooker, John 
Yates, John Stoughton, all well-known Puritan divines, were 
members of Mildmay's College. 

V. 47. Richard Grreenham 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 

' Printed in a Collection of sonpjs N. B. The Various Readings below are 
called the Eiunp, p. 237, a.d. 16G2. from the printed Copy. — V. 


was so remarkably ardent in his preaching, that at the conclusion 
of the service his perspiration was so great that his shirt was 
iisuall}^ 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," 
*'A short direction for the comfort of afflicted consciences," 
" Eules for an afflicted miiide concerning several temptations," &c. 
V. 49. William Perkins (1558-1602), too, was of Cambridge, 
a fellow of Christ's College, and afterwards preacher at St. 
Andrew's Church. He was both a Boanerges and a Barnabas, 
according to Brook. " Mr. Perkins' sermons were all law and all 
gospel . . . He used to apply the terrors of the law so directly 
to the consciences of his hearers, that their hearts would often 
iSink under the convictions ; and he used to pronounce the word 
damn with so pecidiar an emphasis that it left a doleful echo in 
their ears a long time after." " As for his books," says Fuller in 


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 controlc, 
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 rcsplendantly did shine 
Abroad and eke at home ; for "s Preaching rare 
And leaimed writings, almost past compare ; 
Which were so high estecm'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 Elica, 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 Catechisme to them which cannot read ; for by the 
pointing of the finger the}' may sensibly 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 Reprobation," " A calling not effectual," " No 
calling," " Ignorance and vanitie of mind," " the hardening of the 
heart," " a reprobate sense," " Greedines in sinne," " Fulnes of 
sinne." A bold analysis of perdition this — an audacious piece of 



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 

I was trained 


I was bound 
like a 
and lashed. 



Am : I mad, noble fFestus, 

when zeale & godlye knowledge 
put me in hope to deale with, the Pope 
as well as the best in the Colledge ? 
Boldlye I preacht " war ' & cross war a surplus, 

miters, copes, & rochetts ! 
come heare me pray 9 times a day, 
8 & ffill yoi^r head with crochetts." 

In the house of pure Emanuell ^ 

I had my cducatyon, 
till my ffreinds did surmise I dazlcd my eyes 

With the light of reuelation. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 

The bound me like [a] ^ bedlam, 

& lash[t] '' my 4 poore quai'ters. 
while this does endure,^ fiaith makes me sure 

to be one of ffox his Martyres. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 

These iniuryes I sufferd 

Wi'tli Antich[r]ists perswasion. 
lett loose my chaine ! neither Roome nor Spainc 
20 can Withstand my strong inuasyon. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 

' hate a Cross, liate, &e., or ware a 
Cross &c. i. 0. beware, &c. — P. 

* Emanuel College, Cambridge, was 

originally a seminary of Puritans.^ 
W. C. 
' a.— P. * t.— P. * thus I indure.— P. 




I assailed the seauen-liild Cittye 

where I niett the great redd dragon ; 

I kept liim aloofFe with the armor > prooffo 
thonghe now I haue neuer a ragg on. 
Boldlye I preacht &e. 

At Romo I 
I'onght the 
red dragon. 


With a ffiery sword and Targett, 
twice ffought I with this monster ; 

but the sonnes of pryde my zealc doe derydc, 
& all my deeds misconster. 
Boldly I preacht &c. 

with a sword 
and target. 


I vnhorset the here of Babell 
with, the Launce of Inspiration ; 

I made her stinke, & spill the "^ drinke 
in the Cupp of abbominatyon. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 

I unhorsed 
the whore of 


3 flTrom the beast with 10 homes, Lord blesse vs, 

I haue plucket of 3 allreadye ; 
if theyle Lett me alone, He leaue him none ; 

but they say I am to heady e. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 

I pulled out 
three of the 
beast's ten 


I saw 2 in the visyon, 

With a fflying booke betwcene them. 
I haue beene in dispairo 5 times in a yeere, 

& beene cured by reading Greenham.* 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 

I've l>ceii 
from despair 

' [insert] of. -P. 

^ her.— P. 

» This Stanza is not in tho printed 
Copy.— P. 

* The Works of Richard Grrevham, 
Minister and Preacher of (he Word of 


God. Lone]. 1599, 4to. Greenham was 
a puritan divino of considoniblc talents 
and popuhirity. His works consist of 
sermons, treatises, and a commentary on 
Psahn cxix. Lowndes. — F. 



Perkins has 

made me fear 
my dam- 


I haue read in ^ Perkins table ^ 

tlie blacke Line of clamnatyon ; 
these crooked vaines long stucke •"' in my braincs, 

that I ffeared my reprobtxci'on. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 


In the holy tounge of Cannan 
I placed my Cheefest tresure, 

till I hurt my ffoot w/'th an hebrew roote 
that I bled beyond all measure. 
Boldlye I preacht &c. 

I've told the 



he favoured 


I was ^ before the Archbisho2ope 

& all the hye Comiss3ron ; 
I gane him no grace, but told him to his fFace 

that he ffauoured superstition. 

Boldlye I preacht &c. ffillis. 

' observed in. — P. 

^ Perkins, William, The Works. 
Lond., 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, learninc, extensive know- 
ledge of the Scriptures, and strong Cal- 
vinistic argumentation. Lowndes.^F. 

^ so stuck. — P. 

* appear'd. — P. 

[" Watt, tvhere art tho?'^ printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, jj. 121, 
follows here in the 3£S. j'- 447-8.] 


Cade off tniliU't 

Tins poem was printed from the Folio by Sir F. Madden in 
the Appendix to his 8>jr Gaivayne for the Bannatyne CIulj, 
pp. 256-74. Some of his readings of tlie 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 Syi'e Gawene and 
the Carle of Carelyle in the Porkington MS. No. 10, " written in 
the reign of Edward IV./' printed by him (Sir F. Madden) in 
the Appendix to his Syr 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 iSyre Gavjene 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 TJce Grene Knigld (vol. ii. p. 58) in our 
Folio as settling the " question of the genuineness and antiquity 
of the romance-poems (as distinguished from the longer and 
better-known romances) in this celebrated MS." — that is, that 
the Folio poems are not abstracts made of the old romances in tlie 
seventeenth century, but retellings or adaptations of abstracts 
made in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. " The orioinal 
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 VEpee, 
printed in INIeon's liecneil, tome i. p. 127, 8vo, 1823, and pre- 
viously analysed by Le Grand." 

' A ciu-icnib .Sony of the Miirriiige of Sir Gawane, one of Khr^ Arthur's Knight.-^.— P. 

T 2 


Like the other Gawaine stories in the Folio, this one takes us 
into weirdland, the region where necroniancers have been at work, 
where Kelts loved specially to range. And, as in The Turks and 
Goivin and TJie Marriage of Sir Gaivaine, the counter charm 
which undoes the fiendly work is Gawaine's courtesy. Though 
lie was not held worthy of the highest honours in Arthiu'-stor}^, 
though he kept not the state of the virgin three who alone 
achieved the Quest of the Holy Graal ' — 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^ 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 ciirtcoiis 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 

' " Gamvains, Gauwain ! mult a lone s'eii ala, car nous aiiies lo lieu ordi do 

tans qne tu fus chiualers, ot onques uotre pechie, et quant il s'en ala il vous 

puis ne seruis ton crcatour, se peu non : dist, ' chiualer plain do pouro foi et de 

tu ios mais si vieus arbros qu'iln'aen toi poure creanehe, chos iij. choses vous 

no fuello no fruit, car tu pensos quo nos- faillent: carite, abstinenclie, et uerites, 

tro sires en eust la moulo et rescoi-clio, et pour che n'en jjoes auenir as auen- 

puis quo li anemis en a eu la flour et lo turos del saint graal.'" Q/tcs/c, p. 133, 

fruit." Nasciens to Gawaiii, Qiics//', ed. I'\ J. l-'. for Roxb. Club, 1864.— F. 
p. 144. Again: " et quant il vi)us vit, .si '^ Others consistently run him down. 



whose presence words of wrath and thoughts of evil cease, the 
remembrance even of whose smile wins ns from bitterness and 
frloom ? — F. 




Listen : to me a lltle stond, 

yec shall heare of one thai was sober & sound : 

hce was meeke as maid in bower, 

stifle & strong in euery stoure; 

cartes wtthoutcn flUblc 

he was one of the round table; 

the K.nights name was S/r Gawalnc, 

that much worshipp wan in Brittaine. 

the He of Brittaine called is 

both England & Scottland I-wis ; 

wales is an angle to that He, 

where Kinj Arthur soiorned a while ' ; 

w/th him 24 Knights told, 

besids Barrons & dukes bold. 

the King to his Bishopp gan say, 

" wee will have a Masse to-day, [page 449] 

Bishopp Bodwim ^ shall itt done : 

after, to the fiairest ^ wee will gone, 

ifor now itts grass time of the yeere, 

Barrons bold shall breake the decre. 

fi'aine thcroif was S/r Marrockc,'* 

soe was S/r Kay, the Knight stout ; 

I'll toll yon 

stayed a 
while in 

and Olio day 
saiil h(!'il 
liear 51 ass, 

and then go 

was glad. 

Kay too, 

' At Cardyfo soiorned I'c kyiigc a 
Nvhyllc. I'orkington M.S.— F. 

- that IJisliop Sir Bodwine. Tur/ce cj- 
Gowin, 1. 154, vol. i. p. 96. On this 
Bodwin or Bawdowyn in The Grcne 
Kny-^t, Sir F. Madden says that he 
"occurs nowhoro in the larly French 
metrical and prose romances; and his 
name seems to have been substituted 
by the English or Scctish poets in the 
14tl\ century, for that of Bishop Bricc 
or Dubricius. There was an Archbishop 
of Canterbury named Baldwin, who iiuld 
the See from 1181 to 1191. from whom 
tlir nnnic m:iv iiavc bem taken. Hiir 

Gawajjnc, p. 312. — F. 

^ forrest. — Pork. 

' Mewreke. — Pork. Marrakc in The 
Aumti/rs of Arthure, 1. G4 1 . Ilo " appears 
to bo the same as ' Sir Man-ok, the good 
knyghte, tliat was bitra^'ed with his wyf, 
for she made him seuen yero a werwoU',' 
in Malory's Mortc d'Arthur, voL ii. 
p. 385 ; and on a similar story is founded 
the Lai de Bisclaveret of Marie, ed. 
Koquefort, tome i. p. 179." — Madden's 
Si/r Gaxcijave, p. 335. Marrocki' is also 
the name of the giant in K</li(iuor(', vol. ii. 
p. 349, ]. 2'M), and of tlic false steward in 
Sir 'I'ritimiirc, vol. ii. ji. H'2, I. 51. — F. 







Lott, tlie 






and Iro 


ffaine was S/r Laucelott Dulake, 
24 soe was Str Perciuall,' I vndertake ; 

ffaine was Sir Ewaine ^ 

& Sir Lott of Lotliaine,^ 

soe was the knight of armes greene,'' 
28 & alsoe Sir Gawaine the sheene. 

Sir Gawaine was steward in Ai-thurs hall, 

hee was the curteons 'Knight amongst them alh 

Ki7i^ Arthur & his Cozen Mordred,^ 
S2 & other K)ii^/its Withouten Lett, 

Sir Lybins Disconyus ' was there 

w{th proud archers lesse & more, 

Blanch ffaire ^ & Sir Ironside,^ 
36 & many K.nighis iltai day can ijdo. 

' The nephew of king PcscLeor, [or 
king Pelles, the Eich Fisher,] guardian of 
the Hangreal, whose adventures occupy 
a quarto volume, printed in 1530. 
Madden's Byr Gawayne, p. 345. See 
Mr. Halliwell's edition of the verse ab- 
stract of the French romance in The 
Thornton Bomances. — F. 

^ See Caxton's Maleore, vol. i. p. 231. 
— F. 

' See Caxton's MaJeore, vol. i. p. 55, &c. 
— F. He was the father of Grawayne, 
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 Rheged, according to 
the AVelsh 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 Miter 
mit dim Lewen, 8vo, Berlin, 1827 ; Von 
der Hagen's Griindriss zur Geschichtc 
der Dcutuchen Poesie, 8vo, Berlin, 1812, 
p. 118; Hit son's Metrical liomances, 
vol. i., and Notes, vol. iii., 8vo, 1'02; 
and Lady C. Guest's Mahinogion, part i., 
8vo, 1838. He must not be confounded 
(as Ritson has done him) with Twain 

VAvoidtre, a base son of Urien by his 
seneschal's wife, who was killed by 
Gawayne without knowing him, Eoman 
de Lancelot, iii. f. cxvii. There are 
also others of the same name mentioned 
in the Bo7nan de Merlin, i., f. ccviii *, 
and in the Boman d'Erec et d'Enide. 
Cf. Arthour and Merlin, p. 306, 4to, 
1838. Madden, p. 312-13.— F. 

■* Ironside's son, see 1. 37-40. I know 
nothing [of him] as one of Arthur's 
knights. Madden, p. 346.— F. 

* most courteous Knight of all. — P. 

" Arthur's son by his sister, King 
Lot's wife. — F. 

" Gawaine's bastard. See vol. ii. 
p. 416, 1. 8 ; p. 418, 1. 80.— F. 

^ Blancheles. Porkn. MS. " But as no 
knight of that name occiu-s. in all proba- 
bility we should read Brajidelgs," says 
Sir F. Madden, who gives an abstract of 
the French Romance about him at p. 349 
of Syr Gawayne. See Caxton's Maleore, 
vol i. p. 230, ' syre Braundyles.' — F. 

^ Syre Ironsyde that was called the 
noble kny3te of the reed laundes, that 
Syre Gareth [Ijrother of Gawayne] 
wonne for the loue of dame I^yones. 
Maleore, vol. ii. p. 384. The narrative 
of the combat may be read in vol. i. 
p. 211. Madden's A/;- Gav'ayne,i>. 347. 






& Ironside, as I weeno, 
gate ^ the Knight of armour grcene — 
certes as I vnderstand — 
of a ffaire Lady of blaiinch Land.^ 
hee cold more of lionor in warr 
then all the KnIgJds tfiat w/th Arthur weare : 
burninof drasrons he slew in Land, 
& wilde beasts, as I vnderstand ; 
wilde beares he slew that stond ; 
a hardyer Knight was neuer ffound ; 
he was called in his dayes 
one of King Arthurs ffellowes. 
why was hee called Ironsyde ? 
fFor, euer armed wold he ryde ; 
hee wold allwais arms beare, 

ffor Gyants & hee were euer att warr, 

dapple coulour ^ was his steede, 

his armour and his other weede. 

Azure of gold he bare, 

w/th a Griffon lesse or more, 

& a difference of a Molatt * 

he bare in his crest Allgate.''' 

where- soeuer he went, East nor west, 

he neuer fforsooke man nor beast. 

beagles, keenely away the ran, 

the King ffollowed affter wi'tli many a man. 

they ^ gray hounds out of the Leashe, 
f,4 they drew downe the deere of grasse.'^ 

ffine ^ tents in the ffeild were sett, 

a merrj' sort there were mett 



wbo was 
better than 
any of 
knights, an 

got his 

because he 
went always 

to fight 

Beagles ran, 

pulled down 
the deer, 

' i. e. begat. — P. 

^ The Seigneur de la Blamiche Jmnle 
is noticed as one of Arthur's kiiiglits, in 
the Boman de Fcrcevcd, f. Ixxi. Cf. f. 
clxxi ''. See in regard to this territory a 
note of M. Michel on Tristan, vol. ii. 
p. 173. Madden's f^yr Gavay7)e, p. 348. 
— F. 

' Dapple colour'd. — P. The steed's 
name was Fabcle-hondo. Madden's Sijr 
iiavaync, p. 189, 1. 79.— F. 

■* i. e. a nmllot. — P. 

' The second / is over the q in the MS. 
— F. 

« the.— P. ' greace.— P. fat.— F. 

* or ffine.- F. 




and by noon 
100 harts 
were killed. 


Kay, and 

lose their 
way in 

following a 
red deer. 

proposes to 

and stay all 
night in the 

Kay Pays 
he'll lodge 
in some- 
No one 
dare stop 

The Bishop 

The Carle of 
Carlisle will: 






of comely knigJits of kind, 

vppon the bent there can they lead,' 

& by noone of the same day 

a lOO*? harts on the ground the ^ Lay. 

then S/r Gawaine & Sir Kay, 

& Bishopp Bodwin, as'I heard say, 

after a redd deere ^ the rode 

into a flforrest wyde & brodo. 

a thicke mist ffell them among, 

that caused ^ them all to goe wrongre : 

great moane made then S/r Kay 

iJicit they shold loose the hart tJiai day ; 

that red hart wold not dwell. 

hearken what aduentures them beffell : 

fFuU sore the were adread 

ere the any Lodginge had ; 

then spake Sir Gawaine, 

" 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, 

& 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, 

ffor I will lodge whersoere ^ I come ; 

for there dare no man warne me,^ • 

of whatt estate soeuer hee bee." 

" yes," said the Bishopp, " that wott I well ; 

here dwelleth a Carle in a Castele, 

the Carle of Carlile is his name, 

I know itt well by St. lame ; 

[page 4o0] 

' lead. — Madden. 
2 delend.— P. 

^ rayne-derc, and revne-derc, 1. 79. — 

* Only half tlio u in tlic MS.— F. 

ca i sod . — Madden . 

* wherfurro, Maddcn's text : wlurso- 
over ?, his note. — F. 

" wcrn hit me. — Pork. 



was there neuer man yett soe bold 
100 thai durst lodge wttliin his hold ; 

but, & if hee scape ' wtth his liffe away, 

hee ruleth him well, I you say." ^ 

then said Kay, " all in ffere,^ 
104 to goe thither is my desire ; 

fFor & the Carle be neuer soe bolde, 

I thinke to lodge w/thin his hold. 

ffor if he iangle & make itt •* stout, 
108 I shall beate the Carle all about, 

& I shall make his bigging bare, 

& doe to him mickle Care ; 

& I shall beate [him,] as I thinke, 
112 till he both sweate and stinke." 

then said the Bishopp, " so mote I ffare, 

att his bidding I wilbe yare." 

Gawaine said " lett be thy bostlye ffare,-'' 
116 fi"or thou dost euer waken care. 

if thou scape ^ wrth thy liffe away, 

thou ruleth thee well, I dare say." 

then said Kay, " thai 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 ^ drinke." 
124 " thai is contrary," said Gawaine, " as I thinke ; 

but if any ffaire speeche will he gaine, 

wee shall make him Lord within his owne ^ ; 

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 

tells Kay 
not to brag ; 

they'll try 
fair sjjecch 
first ; 

if that's no 
Kay may 


' Btaye. — Maclden. 

* It schall be bette, as I hardo say, 
And 3cfe he go wtt lyfe away. — 

Porkington MS. 

^ i. e. together. Perlmps all on fire. 

* him.— P. 

' Compare vol. i. |i. 'J I, I. 'J.")-oii. 

Kay was tlio braggart of Arthur's court. 
— F. 

" Madden reads tlie MS. stape, and 
corrects it to scape. — F. 

' him ?. — Madden. 

" aine (in pencil). — P. Pork, has tlio 
t;ilk 1. 104-30 somewhat differently.— 



They rule to 
the Earl's 


ami tells the 

that they 
arc tired out 
with hunt- 

and ask his 
lord for a 


the Porter, 

but he 



asks him 

and the 
gives his 








then said the Bishopp, " that sontoth ' mee ; 

thither lett vs ryde all three." 

when they came to the carles gate, 

a hammer they ffound hanging tlieratt : 

Gawaine lient the hammer in his hand, 

& curteouslye on the gates dange. 

ifortli came the Porter w/'th still fFare, 

saying, " Avho is soe bold to-knocke there ? " 

Grawaine answered him curteouslye 

"man," hee said, " that is I.^ 

wee be 2 knights of Arthurs inn, 

& a Bishopp, no moe to min ^ ; 

wee haue rydden all day in the fForrest still 

till horsse & man beene like to spill ; 

fFor Arthurs sake, tJiat is our Kinge, 

wee desire my hord of a nights Lodginge, 

& harbarrow'' till the day att Morne, 

that wee may scape''' away w/thout scorne." 

^Then spake the crabbed 'Knight Sir Kay: 

" Porter, our errand I reede the say,'^ 

or else the Castle gate wee shall break e, 

& the Keyes thereof to Arthur take." 

the Porter sayd with words throe, ^ 

" theres no man aliue that dares doe soe ! 

of ^ a 100** such as thou his death had sworne, 

yett he wold ryde on hunting to morne. '^ " 

then answered Gawain that Avas curteous aye, 

" Porter, our errand I pray thee say." 

"yes," said the Porter, "w/thouten ffayle 

I shall say yo?(r errand ffull well." 

' Madden reads tiiitdh. — F. 

2 " It am I " is the earlier phrase.- — F. 

^ min, ming, i. e. mention, vide v. 162. 

— r. 

* Madden reads harhorrovo. — F. 

* Madden again reads sta'pc, and 
correets to scajir. — F. 

" Pork, puts in tlio Porter's answer. 

warning them that his lord " can no 
cortessye," and that they will not escape 
without a "wellony." — F. 

' thou say or thee (to) say.^ — P. 

8 tho, i. c. then.— P. A.S'. Vra, bold. — 

» If.— P. 

'" lo-morrow. — P. 






as soone as the Porter the Carle see, 

liee kneeled downe vpon his knee : 

"Yonder beene 2 K.iu'ijJds of Arthurs m/ [page4.M] 

& a Bishopp, no more to niyn ; 

they hane roden all day in the fforrest still, 

that horsse [&] man ^ is like to spill ; 

they desire you fFor Arthirs sake, their K/v/g, 

to gi*ant them one nights Lodginge, 

& herberrow till the day att Morne 

that they may scape ^ away without scorne." 

"noe thing greeues^ me," sayd the Carle w/thout 

" but that they ^ T^niijhts stand soe long w/thout." 
with, that they ° Porter opened the gates wyde, 
& the K-nights rode in that tyde. 
their steeds into the stable are tane, 
the K.nights into the hall are gone ^ : 
heere the Carle sate in his chaire on hye, 
w/th his legg cast ouer the other knee ; 
his mouth was wyde, & his beard was gray, 
his lockes on his shoulders lay ; 
betweene his browes, certaine 
itt was large there a spann, 
with 2 great eyen brening as ffyer. 
Lord ! bee was a Lodlye syer ^ ! 
ouer his sholders he bare^ a bread 
1 84 3 taylors yards, as clarkes doe reade ; 
his ffingars were like to teddar stakes, ''' 
& his hands like breads that wiues may bake ; 

message to 
the Carle. 




The Carle 
regrets that 
they have 
been kept so 
long wait- 

Gawaine &c. 
ride in, 

go to the 
hall, and 
see the 

a loathly 

with fingers 
like stakes 

and han<ls 
like leaves. 

' inne. — P. 

* liorsf & man. — P. 

' Madden af.'ain reads slapc, ami 
corrects to scape. — F. 

* Half the u left out in tlie MS.— F. 

* the.— P. 
« the.— P. 

' gane. — P. 

" a lodlye sire, i. e. filthy, p. 387.— P. 

" bore. — Madden. 

'" 'I'iii' stakes l)y •w/;/ch the hair lines 
are I'asten'd to tin: ground that ai'e tied 
to the horses' feet when they graze in 
open fields.— P. Madden reads tixlder. 
— F. 



salutes him 


and the 
them for 
Bake, though 
Arthur aud 

he have long 
been foes. 

They go to 
the tables, 

and see 4 

a bear, 
a boar, 
a bull, 
and a lion. 








50 Cubitts • he was in height ; 

hord, he was a Lothesome wight ! 

when iSi'r Gawaine that carle see, 

he halched ^ liim fFull curteouslye, 

& saith, " carle of Carlile,^ god saue thee 

as thou sitteth in thy prosperitye ! " 

the carle said, " as christ * me saue,^ 

yee shall be welcome fFor Arthurs sake. 

^ yet is itt not my paH to doe soe, 

fFor Arthur hath beene euer my fFoe ; 

he hath beaten my l^nigMs, & done them bale, 

^ & send them wounded to my owne hall. 

yett the truth to tell I will not Leane,^ 

I haue quitt him the same againe." 

" that is a kind of a knaue ^," said Kay, " w/thout 

soe to reuile a Noble King." 
Gawaine heard, & made answere, 
" Kay, thou sayst more then meete weerc." 
with that they went ffurther into the hall, 
where bords were spredd, & couered w/th pall ; 
& 4 welpes of great Ire 
they fFound Lying by the ffire. 
there was a beare that did rome,'*^ 
& a bore that did whett his tushes '^ ffomc, 
alsoe a bull that did rore, 
& a Lyon that did both gape & rore ; 
the Lyon did both gape and gren. 
" peace, whelpes ! " said the carle then : 

' ix. taylloris 3erdi5. — Pork. 

'' i. p. saluted. — P. Miidden reads the 
MS. haltlcd, and corrects it to halscd. 
Halche is 0. N. heilsa, Dan. hilsa, to 
salute, to cry hail to. Wedgwood. — F. 

' " Callilo, MS.," says Madden.— F. 

■■ Madden reads cheif, and puts " Crist ? " 
in his note. — F. 

^ perliaps take. — P. 

« y' et in MS.— F. 

' sent.— P. 

8 vid. p. 367, St. 45 [of MS.].— P. 
See Dr. Robson's note in Sir John Buthr 
above. Madden says "leave, MS." — F. 

« A c follows in the MS.— F. 

'" Cp. the berc to raniy. Pork. — F. 
'■ tusks. — Madden. — F. 










ffor that word that they carle ' did speakc, 

the 4 whelpes vnder they bord ^ did crecpe. 

downe came a Lady flFaire & fFree, 

& sett her on the carles knee ; 

one whiles shcc harped, another whiles song, 

both of Paramours & louingc amonge. 

" well were that man," said Gawaine, " that ere were 

that might Lye w«th that Lady till day att morne." 
" that were great shame," said the carle ffree, 
" that thou sholdest doe me such villanye."^ 
" Sir," said Gawaine, "I sayd nought." 
" no, man," said the carle ; " more thou thought." 
Then start Kay to the fflore, 
& said hee wold see how his palfrey ffore.^ 
both corne & hay he ffound Lyand, 
& the carles palfrey by his steed did stand. 
Kay tooke the carles palfrey by the necke, 
& soone hee tlu-ust him out att the hecke^ : 
thus Kay put the carles fible out, 
& on his backe he sett a clout, 
then the carle himselfe hee stood there by, 
and sayd, " this buflTett, man, thou shalt abuy.** " 
The carle raught Kay svich a rapp [page 4V2] 

that backward he ffell fQatt ; 
had itt not beene ffor a ffeald ^ of straw. 
Kayes backe had gone in 2.* 
then said Kay, " & thow were without thy hold, 
Man ! this buffett shold bo deere sold." 
" what," sayd the carle, " dost thou menace me ? 

A fair lady 
seats herself 
on the 
Carle's knee, 


says her 
will be a 
happy man. 

The Carle 



Kay goes to 
the stable, 

finds the 
palfi-ey next 
to his, 

turns it out. 

and gives it 
a clout. 

knocks Kiiy 




and he tells 

' the Carle— P. 

» tho horci— P. 

' Pork, suljstitutcs a scene of the 
knights drinking, for tliis one of the 
lady; but (h'seribes tlio Carlo's wife at, 
supper-time, p. 197 <'( Maihleu's Sijr 
(iawaynv.— F. 

■' i. 0. fared, p?-(y<. iiiusildL — P. 
* i. 0. Cratch, verb. Scot. Dr. Graing'', 

" abye. — P. IMaddcn roads aht/. — F. 
' i. e. a truss of straw. Dr. Graing''. — 

" t\va.--P. 



that if he 
says any 
he'll get 

Then the 
Bishop goes 
to look at 
his palfrey. 

He finds the 



and turns it 

with a cut, 

to go to the 

The Carle 

knocks the 
Bishop over, 

he cares 
nothing for 
mitre or 










I swere by all soules sicci'lye ' ! 

Man ! I swere ffurtlier tliore,^ 

if I heere any malice more,^ 

ffor this one word that thou hast spoken 

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 becue ? " 

" to Looke my palffrey, as I weene.'* " 

then said the Bishopp, " itt fFalleth mo 

that my palfrey I must see." 

both corne & hay he ffound Lyand, 

& 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, 

& 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 : 

" man ! this buffett thou shalt abuy.''' " 

he hitt the Bishopp vpon the crowne, 

thai his miter & he ffell downe. 

"Mercy ! " said the Bishopp, " I am a clarkc ! 

somewhatt I can of chr[i]sts werke." 

he saith, " by the Clergye I sett nothmg, 

nor yett by thy Miter nor by thy ringe. 

It ffitteth a clarke to be curteous & ffrec, 

by the conning *• of his clergy." 

Av/th thai the Bishopp went into the hall, 

& Sir Gawaine to him can call, 

' Madden reads sikerli/c- F. 
2 tho.— P. 
' moe. — P. 

' al.s I woon, i.(\ I also tliinko, in- 
tend. Sid viJ. in^'ra '276. — P. As is 

thus, like.— F. 

* abay, MS. says Madden. — F. 

" MS. coming. — F, cunning or cou- 
ninjr.— P. 




saith, " brother Bishopp where haue you beeiie ? " 

"to looke my palfrey, as I weene." 

then sayd Sir Gawaiue, " itt fFalleth mec 

that my palfreye I must needs see." 

corne & hay he ffound enoughe Lyand, 
2>iO & the carles ffole by his did stand. 

the carles ffole had beeuc fforth in the raine ; 

therof S/r Gawaine was not ffaine ; 

hee toohe his mantle that was of greene, 

& couered the ffole, as I weene ; 

sayth, " stand vp, ffole, & eate thy meate ; 

thy Master payeth ffor all that wee heere gett." 

they carle ' himselfe stood thereby, 

& thanked him of his curtesye ; 

they carle ^ tooke Gawaine by the hand, 

& both together in they hall they wend. 

the carles called ffor a bowle of wine, 

& soone they settled them to dine ; 

70 bowles 3 in that bowle were, — 

he was not weake that did itt beare, — 

then they •* carle sett itt to his Chin, 

& said, " to you I will begin ! " 

15 gallons he dranke that tyde, 

& raught to his men on euery side. 

then they '' carle said to them anon, 

" Sirrs, to supper gett you gone ! " 

Gawaine answered the carle then, 

" Sir, att yoztr bidding we will be ben.*' " 

" if you be bayne att my bidding, 
304 you honor me without Leasinge." 

they washed all, & went to meate, 

& dranke the wine that was soo sweete. 






goes to soo 
his palfrey. 

He finds 
the Carlo's 
foal by it, 

wet with 
covers the 
foal with his 

and tells it 
to eat away. 

The Carlo 

takes him in, 

calls for a 
bowl of 

and drinks 
1 5 gallons 
at one 

Then tlicy 
nil liavu 

Tlic Carle— P. 
The Carlo.— r. 
gallons?— Madden. Ordinary bowls. --F. 

* the— P. 

= the.— r. 

« bailie.— r. 



After it, the 
Carle tells 
Gawaine to 
take a spear 

and to mark 
him in his 

takes the 

charges at 
the Carle 

(who dodges 
his head,) 

runs the 


into the wall, 

and breaks it 


Then the 


Gawaine to 
his wife's 








tlie carle said to Gawaine anon, 

"a long speare see thou take in tliy Land,' 

att the buttrye dore take thou thy race, 

& marks me well in middest the face. 

"a ! " thought •-' Sir Kay, " that that were I ! 

then his buffett he shold deere abuy.^ " 

" well," qitoththe carle, "when thou wilt, thou may,'' 

when thou wilt thy strength assay." — 

"well S/r," said Kay, " I said nought." 

"Noe," said the carle, "but more thou [pageioij] 

then Gawaine was ffull glad of that, 
& a long spere in his hand he gatt ; 
att the butteiy dore ^ he tooke his race, 
& marked the carle in the middst the ffacc. 
the carle saw S/r Gawaine come in ire, 
& cast his head vnder his speare, 
Gawaine raught the wall such a rapp, 
the fi'yer flSew out, & the speare brake ; 
he stroke a fFoote into the wall of stone, 
a bolder Barron was there neuer none. 
" soft," said the carle, "thow was to radd.^ " 
" I did but, S;'r, as you me bade." 
" if thou had hitt me as thou had ment, 
thou had raught me a ffell dint.'^ " 
they carle tooke Gawaine by the hand, 
& both into a Chamber they wend ; 
a ffull ffaire bed there was spred, 
the carles wiffe therin was laid : 

' hond.— P. 

2 All! thought.— P. 

' MS. aluy. Madden reads a huy. — 
F. abuy or abye. — P. 

'' then thou (yee) may. — P. 

' Madden roads the MS. doe.—Y. 

* furious, 0. Fr. roide. — Skeat. lioide, 
rough, fierce, violent. — Cotgrave. A.S. 
hr(Ed, swift, quick, rush. — F. 

' Pork. MS. puts Gawaine's supper after 
this, and brings the Carle's daughter in 
to harp and sing to thorn. She is prettily 
described, has the gold-wire hair so much 
admired in early times, and 

Owyrc allc ]>o hallc gauMC sche lemo 
As hit were a sonwc-beme. 

Madden's 8i/r Gaxvaync, p. 199. — F. 











the carles said, "Gawaitio, of curtesye 

gett into this bedd ^\ith this ffaire Ladj^e. 

kisse thou her 3-'' before mine eye ; 

looke thou doe no other villanye." 

the carle opened the shcetes wyde ; 

Gawaine gott in by the Laydes syde ; 

Gawaine ouer her ' put his arme ; 

With that his fflesh began to Avarme : 

Gawaine had thought to haue made in fiare,^ 

" hold," quoth, the carle, "man, stopp there ^ ! 

itt were great shame," quoth they carle, "for nic 

that thou sholdest doc me such villanye ; 

but arise vp, Gawaine, & goe With me, 

I shall bring thee to a fiairer Lady then euer was 

they "* carle tooke Gawaine by the hand ; ^ 

both into another Chamber they wend ; 

a ffaire bedd there found they spred, 
and the Carles daughter therin Laid : 

saith, " Gawaine, now for thy curtesye 

gett thee to bedd to this ffaire Lady." 

the carle opened the sheetes wj^de, 

S/r Gawaine gott in by the Ladyes side. 

Gawaine put his arme ouer that sweet thing ; 

•' sleepe, daughter," sais the carle, " on my blessing." 

they carle turned his backe & wont his way, 

& lockt the dore w/th a siluer Kaye. 

on the other morning *> when the carles rose, 

vnto his daughters chamber he goes : 

" rise vp, Sir Gawaine, & goe w/th mec, 

a maruelous sight I shall Ictt thee see." 

they carle tooke him by the hand, 

& both into another chamlicr thoy wend, 

and bids him 
net in and 
kiss her, 

but do 



does so, 

and thiidvs 
to do morn, 

but the 
Carle stops 

and takes 
him to bis 
bed, and 
tells him 

to get into it. 

does so. 

and the 

Carle goes 


locking the 




he calls 

' he. — Miiddon. 

- free, q.— Pencil note. 

3 MS. thee.— F. 

• the— P, 

'" Pork. MS. makes tho C.irle send his 
daufilitor to Gawaino, ib. p. 201. — P. 
" In the next m. — P. 

ViiL. 111. 



and shows 


bloorly shirts 

and 1501) 
dead men's 

slain by him, 
the Carle. 

wants to 
take leave, 

but the Carle 
makes him 
stop to 

After it 
he shows 

a Kword, 

and begs 
him to cut 
liis (the 
Carle's) head 



the Carlo 
says he'll 
cut his head 
off if he 
don't do it. 

So Gawaine 
cuts the 
head off, 
and ho 








& there tliey found many ' a bloody serkc 

which were wrought with curyons wei'ke : 

1500 dead mens bones ^ 

they found v}3on a rooke ^ att once. 

"alacke!" quoth Sir Gawaine, " what hauc becne 

saith, " I & my welpes haue slaine all there." 
then Sir Gawaine cui'teous and kind,'* 
he tooke his leaue away to wend, 
& thanked they carle & the Ladyes there, 
right as they worthy were, 
"nay," said the carle, "wee will first dine, 
& then thou shalt goe with blessing mine."'' " 
after dinner, the sooth to say, 
the carle tooke Gawaine to a Chamber gay 
where wei-e hangingc swords towe ^ ; 
the Carle soone tooke one of tho, 
& sayd to the ILnight tlien, 
" Gawaine, as thou art a man, 
take this sword & stryke of my head." 
" Nay," said Gawaine, " I had rather be dead ; 
ffor I had rather suffer pine & woe 
or euer I wold tliat deede doe." 
the carle sayd to Sir Gawaine, 
" looke thou doe as I thee saine, 
& therof be not adread ; 
but shortly smite of my head, 
ffor if thou wilt not doe itt tyte, 
ffor-ssooth thy head I will of smyto." 
To the carle said Sir Gawaine, [page 454] 

" Str, yowr bidding shall be done : " 
he stroke the head the body ffroe, 
& he stood vp a man thoe 

' One stroke too few in tho MS. — F. 
2 a bones, IMS.— Madden. I tliink tlic 
a is meant to bo blotched out. — F. 
^ i. 0. a ruck, a heap. — P. 

* liond, q. — Pencil note. 
■' Only half the m in the MS. Madden 
reads mine too. — F. 
** rowc. — Maclden. 











of the height of S/r Gawaine, 

the certaine soothe "w/thoiiten Laine. 

the carle sayd, " Gawaine, god blese thee, 

ffor thou hast deliuered mee ! 

fifrom all ffalse witchcrafft ^ 

I am deliuerd ^ att the Last ; 

by Nigromance thus was I shapen 

till a 'KnigJit of the round table ^ 

had With a sword smitten * of my head, 

if he had grace to doe that deede. 

itt is 40 winters agoe 

since I was transformed soe ; 

since then, none Lodged Av/thin this wooun,^ 

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. 

Christ grant thee of his mercy e ! 

he til at the world made, reward thee this ! 

ffor all my bale thou hast turned to blisse. 

now will I leaue that Lawe ; 

there shall no man ffor me '^ be slawe, 

& I purpose ffor their sake 

a chantrey in this place to make, 

& 5 preists to sing ffor aye 

vntill itt be doomes day. 

& Gawaine, for the loue of thee 

euery one shall bee welcome to me." 

Sir Gawaine & the young Lady clcre, 

the Bishopp weded ^ them in ffere ; 

stands up a 
proper man. 

and thanks 
for deliver- 
ing him 
from the 

that 40 years 
ago trans- 
formed him, 
so to be till 
a Knight of 
the Round 
Table should 
cut his head 

reward you! 

I'll kill no 

but every- 
body shall 
be welcome 
to me. 
The Bishop 
Gawaine and 

' ? witchcraffls cast. Cast is the regu- 
lar -word for a magical contrivance, and 
the line? iH too short as it stanfls. 

- Madden oniils the d.—'F. 

'■' 1 would read : 

liy Nigroniancc thus was I Imund, 

till a Knight of the table round. — Skoat. 

■' M.S. snitton.— F. 

^ Madden reads worn, and notes 
tvnonc ? — F. 

' i. e. thro' mo. — P. 

' wedded. — Madden. 

V 2 



the Carle's 

The Carle 
gives Kay a 

lady a white 

Then he bids 
go to Arthur 

and ask him 

to dine witli 
him next 

goes singing 
with his 

and tells 

Kay gives 

the Carle's 
Arthur and 
his company 
ride off, 

tlie carle gaue him ' for liis wedding 
a staffe, miter,^ & a ringe. 
he gaue Sir Kay, that angry 'KnlyJd, 
402 a blood red steede, & a wight. 

he gaiie his daughter, the sooth to say, 
an ambling white palfrey, 
the ffairest hee was on the mold ; 
4.36 her palfrey was charged w/th gold ; 
shee was soe gorgeous & soe gay, 
no man cold tell her array. 
the carle comiizanded Sir Gawaine to wend^ 
440 & " say vnto Ai"thur our King, 
& pray him that hee wold — 
ffor his lone that ludas 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 yo?(r message doe." 
then they rode singing by the way 
448 w/th the Ladye that was gay ; 

they were as glad of that Lady bright 
as euer was ffowle of the day-Lyght. 
they told Km^ Arthur where they had bceno, 
452 & Avhat aduentures they had seene. 

" I thanke god," sayd the 'King, " cozen Kay, 
that thou didst on line * -part away." 
" Marry," sayd S/r Kay againe, 
456 " of my liffe ^ I may be ffaine. 

flEbr his loue that was in Bethlem borao, 
you must dine w/th the carle to-morne." 
in the dawning of the day the rode ^ ; 
':60 a merryer meeting Avas neuer made. 

1 Sc. tlio bishop.— r. 
^ a stuff, !i miter, &c. — P. 
' wend rimes al,«o with bri/ir/r, 1. 498. 
■ Skeat. 

i.e. alive. — P. part = dopart.- 
lifte, MS., says Madden.— F. 
rade. qu. — P. 











when tliey together were mett, 

itt was a good thing, I you hett ; 

the trumpetts plaid att the gate, 

With trumpetts ^ of siluer theratt ^ ; 

there [was] all manner of Minstrelsye, 

harpe, Gyttorne,^ and sowtrye. 

into the hall the King was ifett,* 

& royallye in seat was sett. 

by then the dinner was readj^e dight, 

tables were couered ^ all on height ; 

then to Avash they wold not blinn, 

& the fFeast they can beg-inn. 

there they were mached arright, 

euery Lady against a Knight ; 

And Minstrells sate in windowes ffaire, [page 455] 

& playd on their instruments cleere ; 

" Minstrells ifor worshipp att euery messe 

iFull Lowd they cry Largnesse ^ ! " 

the carle bade the 'Eiing " doe gladly e, 

fFor heere yee gett great curtesy e." 

the King said " by Saint Michaell 

this dinner Liketh me ffall well." 

he dubd the carle a K-uiglit anon, 

he gaue him the county of carlile soono, 

& made him Erie of all tJud Land,^ 

& after, 'Knight of the table round. 

the King said, " Knight, I tell thee, 

CARLILE * shall thy name bee." 

when the dinner was all done, 

euery Knight tooke his leaue soone, 

are received 
at the 

with sounri 
of trumpet, 


gittern, and 
psaltery ; 

tables are 

and the feast 

playing the 

Arthur likes 
his dinner. 

knights the 
Carle, gives 
him Carlisle, 

makes him 
an Earl, and 
a Knight of 
the Round 
Table, and 
him Carli<lo. 

After dinner 
the guests 

' trunnpetts MS.— F. 

- tluTott, MS., says Madden. — F. 

^ gjttonu', I^IS., says INIaddcu. — F. 

♦ 1ms full, MS., says Madden.— F. 

^ covered. — p. Pork, has a bettor de- 
scription of the room and dinner, 1. C0;3- 
24,— F. 

* Largesse. — P. 

' Loud.— P. 

" No kniglit of this name occnrs in 
the Freucli romances of tliu Kound Talile, 
nor in the Moric cTArlhurc of Maloi-}-. 
Miiddon's Syr G., p. 348.— F. 



go home. 
May God 

bring our 
souls to 
heaven ! 




to wend forward soberlye 

home into tlieir owne country e.^ 

he thai made vs all with his hand, 

both the sea and the Land, 

grant vs all fFor his sake 

this fFalse world to fForsake, 

& ont of this world when wee shall wend, 

to heauens blisse our soules bringe ! 

god grant ys grace itt may soe bee ! 

Amen, say all, ffor Charitye ! 


■ The Porkington MS. makes the 
Carle (according to his promise, 1. 422-3 
above), foiiud "A ryehe Abbey . . in the 

towne of mciy Carleyle 
J>rtt lie liad slayno." — F. 

for the men 

[" Off all the Seaes," printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, j7. 85, folhnus here 
in the MS. p. 455.] 


I)f ro : vS: : trnntrrr : ^ 

Quid juvonis, magnum cui versat in ossibus ignom 
Durus amor? Nempe abruptis turbata procellis 
Nocte natat caeca serus frota ; quom super ingens 
Porta tonat ccoli et scopulis illisa reclamant 
^quora ; nee miseri possunt revocaro parentes, 
Nee moritura super crudeli funere virgo. 

Virg. Gcorg. iii. 258-63. 

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 l)y 
Musseus : 

ejVe, 6ea, Kfivpiwv itnyidprvpa Xv^vov ipurwv, 
Ka\ vvx'-'^v TTKwrrjpa Qa\affaoTr6pwv vixevaioov, 
Kal ydpiov dx^^^^VTa rhv ovk tSev &(p6iTos 'Huis, 
Kol ^rjffThy KofA^vSov Sirri jd/xos 6yvvxos"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 Gorman by Stolberg, 
Passow &c. ; into French by Marot; into Italian 1)y Bernardo 
Tasso, Bettoni &c. (see Smith's Biog. Did. &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 Jjisliop remarks, " tollerahly regular." 
It cannot indeed lay claim to any plenary ins[)iralioii ; it is 

' A I'otiii toll, nibl.) («o) regular.-^ 1'. 



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 Gomi- 
'plaint of Scotland, to Rosalind's mocking revision of it in As 
You Like It: " Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, 
tliough 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 were 
two lovers, 

whose storv 
I'll tell yoii. 

low : fFamous louers once there was, 

wliome fame liatli quite fforgott, 
who liued long most constantlye 

wz'thout all eniiious blott. 
sliee was most ffaire, & hee most true, 
w/w'ch caused that thai did ensue : ffa : la 
whose story I doe meane to write, 
and title itt trueloues delight : f a : la : la : 


Leander and 


Tlie Helles- 

Leander was this young mans name, rpngo 4'if.] 

right noble by discent, 
& hero, shee, whose bewtyes rare 
12 might giue Loue great content, 

hee att Abydos kept his court, 
shee att cestos liued in sport, fa : la : la. 
a riuer great did part these twainc, — 
If. w///ch caused them oft, poore soules, coinplaiuo 
fa : la : la : — 



Euen Hellespont, -whose current streamc 

like lightning swift did glyde ; 
acenrsed riuer thai 2 liarts 

20 soe fiaithfull must ^ devyde ! 

And more, w7;/'cli did angment tlieir woe, 
the parents Avere eche others fFoc, fa : la : la : 
soe thai no shipp durst him conuay 

24 vnto the place Avherc his Hero Lay, ffa : la : la : 

Long time these loners did complaine 
the Misse of their desires, 

not knowing how the ^ might obtains 
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 ^ night 
when all things silent were, 

wold young Leander take his fflight 
30 throug[h] Hellespont soe cleere ; 

wher att ^ the shore Hero wold bee 

to welcome him most Louinglye, fa : la : 

& soe Leander wold conuay 
40 vnto the Chamber where shoe Lay, fa : la : 

Thus many dayes the did enioye 
the fruite of their delight, 

for he oft to his Hero came, 
44 & backe againe same night ; 

And shee for to encourage him 

through Hellespont more boldlye swim,'^' fa : la : 

In her tap •• tower a lampe did place, 
48 wherby he might behold her liace, fa : la : 

and tlieiv 
parents wcra 

For a long 
time the 
lovers could 
not meet. 

At last, 


across the 

and Hero 
took him 

To help him 

she used to 
put a lamp 
in her tower, 

M.S. unust. — F. 

they.— P. 

MS. darkosone. — 1"'. 

' MS. wluTiUt.— F. 
'• ? MS. siiirin.— F. 
" high : taper, qu. — P. 

t(.p.— F 



and sit by it, 

praying for 
her love. 



And by this lampe wold Hero sitt, 

still pi'ay[i]ng for lier loue, 
thai the rough watters vnto him 

might not offensiue prone : 
" be mild," quoth, shee, " while he doth swim, 
& that I hane well welcomed him, fa : [la :] 
& then euer rage & rorc amaine, 
that he may neuer goe hence againe, fa : la : 

came with 
its storms, 

but these did 
not stop 



Now boisterous winter hasted on, 

when winds & watters rage ; 
yett cold itt not the LustfFull hart 

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, 
his manly armes in flfloods to proue fa : la : 

Ho leapt into 
the Helles- 

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 w7i/ch hee afiected soe ; 

but winds & wanes did him withstand 

soe that he cold attaine no Land, fa : la : la 

ffor his loues lampe [he] looked about ; 

72 ffaire Hero slept, & itt was out. fa : la : la : 

His body 
was cast 



Then all in vaine Leander strouc 

till armes cold doe no more ; 
for naked, he, depriued of liffe, 

was cast vpon the shore. 
had the Lampe still stayed in, 
Leander liueles had not beene : f a : la : la : 
w/ti'ch being gone, he knew no ground, 
because tliick darkuesso did ubouiul. fa : la 



When Hero fFaii'e awaket ffrom sleepc, ipngei.JTj 

& saw her lampe was gone, 

hei' sences all benunied were, 
8-t & shee like to a stone. 

O ! ffrom her eyes, then perles more Clecre, fa : la : she wept, 

pyoceeded many a dolefall teare, 

perswading ^ that the angry flood 
88 had drunke Leanders guiltlesse bloode, fa : la : 

Hero awoke 
niul found 
her lamp 






Then to the topp of highest tower 

faire hero did ascend, 
to see how the winds did w^'th the wanes 

for mastershipp contend, 
& on the sand shee did espye 
a naked bodye linelesse lye, fa : la : 
& lookeing more vpont, shee knew 
itt was Leanders bloudlye hew. f a : la : 

She saw his 
corpse on the 



Then did shee teare her golden hairo, 

& in her greeue thns sayd, 
" accui'sed riuer ! that art still 

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, 
thou hast made me a mourner too ! fa : la : la : 

Slio tore her 

cursed tlie 



" But though thou didst attach my louc, 

& tookest him ffor thy owne, 
that hec was only es ^ Heroes deere, 

hencforth itt shall be knowne." 
then ffrom the tower faire Hero ffell, 
whose woefuU death I sighe to tell, fa : la : 
and on his body there did dye 
that loued her most tenderlyc, fa : la : 

and fell 
from her 

on Lcander' 
body, and 

' perswadcd. — Skeat. 

? fur indij hU, or onlijc witJiout llii^ a. — F. 


Thus endeth both they ^ liffe & lone 

in prime ^ of their young yeeres, 
since whose untimely ffuneralls 
lie no such true loue appeares. 
vntill more constant loue arise, 
their names I will imupetelasze,^ fa : la : 

May true 

lovers now & heauen rffrantl such as liaue * true ffViends, 

have better '-° -* ' 

''"''s' 120 as ffaithffull harts, but better ends ! fUuis. 

' their.— P. 2 jvis. prine.— F. 

^ qu. MS. — F. himpettelaze, corruptly ^Yritt':'Il for immortalize. — P. 
" * grant sucli. — P. 


Boccaccio, Chaucer, and Shakespeare have all taken in liand 
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 Creseida.^ " 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 w^as 
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 ^ had well 
been tryed" licensed to Purfoote in 1565, and again in 1581,^ 
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 • 

whom Troylus did loue ! 
the 'Kn'ujhi was kind, & slice Avas coy, couui not 

. , win Crossid, 

4 no words nor worthes ' cold mouo, till 

_,. , . Ill- Pandarus 

till Pindaurus * soc playd his prn-t hdped lum. 

Hint the K?//^//t obiainod lier Iiart, 

' It sli'.' Lo Crcssidc, sec Chaucrr & dAWcr. Jicg. Sl(i.Com2i.\tA.\.\>.\'l\. — F. 
Shakespcar.— P. •■• Collier, vol. ii. p. 1 IG.— F. 

* Wartoii's correction of "throtcs." * worth. — P. '•' Paiiiltirub. — P. 



tlic Ladyes rose destroyes : 
[Tliey] lield sweet warr a winters niglit 
till tlie enuyous day gaue Hglat ; 

■wJdch darkness ' loners ioyes. 

Wlicn tlie 
Trojans lost, 





Cresses ^ lone lones mother ^ crest, 

fforctold her in a dreame 
how Grecyans ^ won, how Troians Lost. 

fFalse loue ffleetes w^'th the streams : 
Shea sweets ffaces, vallyant flights, 
who put downe the Troian knights, 

downe might their Ladyes put. 
dioncd ^ thought her noe mayd, 
yctt loues debt was richely paid, 

the seas the poorest cutt. 

So lasses, 

that one love 
cloys ; 

change it 

like your 
and take the 



Lasses, learne some witt by this ! 

though Ladyes truth proffesse, 
no signe remaines of vnseen kisse 

vnlesss a ffoole conflPesse, 
■what pleased to-day, to-morrow cloyes; 
loy growes dull thai still enioyes ; 

change loue, for loues sweet sake, 
now hopes pleased ^ w/th pleasure strange ; 
then chang loue, with garments change, 
& still the better take. 


' darkens. — P. 

2 Cressidc's. — P. 

' Luve's-mothcr. — P. 

* Grecians. — P. 

* Diomede. — P. 

" new hopes plcivsc.- 



^Ottcysi : of ,i^f)f parties;.' [p«go 4.^^] 

Tjiis song is in Westminster Drollery, Part II. 1672, p. 64, under 
the title of "The hunting of the Grods." After two long 
searches through the JNluseum Catalogues, only Part I. of that 
work, dated 1671, could be found. Recourse was therefore had 
to jNIr. 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. Furnivall to collate the Folio proof with it. We thank 
him for his courtesy, and wish his example was followed by all 
noble and gentle owners of rare books and MSS. in England. 
But, alas, among the fair flock of collectors is more than one 
black sheep. 

This piece, as Percy notes, occurs also in the Collection of 
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 ]\Ir. Lilly ; but this has now been 
put aside in favour of the collation with the earlier Drollery 
copy. In the O.B. copy which Mr. Brock used, the order of the 
stanzas differs from that of the Folio and ^Yesilninster Drollery ; 
the first four and the last coincide, but the others vary thus : — 

In Ihc priiilcd Collccliuu of old IJalladb 12"'" vi.l. 3. \yd'^. 198, N. 3(i.— P. 


Stanza 5 of MS. and W.D. is nt 
,. 7 „ 

mza 9 of O.B. 

9 „ „ 7 „ 

The gods, ennuyes, tired of lying beside their nectar, sick of 
their " securum sevum," envious of the sports of men, resolve on 
a sort of divine " meet." They have a day with the harriers. 
The shepherds wonder what this strange venery means. 

The piece illustrates the passionate attachment with which 
hare-hunting was regarded in the old pre-foxchasing days.' Jt 
was an attachment of long standing. In the Squire of Loio 
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 lioundc ; 
Farewell markes and many a pounde ; 
Farewell hiintynge at the hare ; 
Farewell liarte and hynde for evormaro. 

There are other copies, as Mr. Chappell points out, in Wit and 

Drollery (1682), Pills to purge Melancholy (1707), and Dryden's 

Miscellany Poems. 

Songs of OONGS : of shepards,'^ rnsticall roundelayes 


fFramed on^ fiancyes,^ whistled on reeds, 
songs ■* to solace young Nimphes vpon liolydayes, 
worthy * ^^^ ^^ ^ unwortliy ffor wonderflFull deeds. 

*° *®'^ Phebus Aeminius ^ or worthy Cylen[i]us,'' 

his lofty Genius ® may seem to declare 
In verse better coyncd, or verse ^ more refined, 
how the J, ]jQ^y states '" diuined '' once hunted '^ the hare. 

Gods liuntcu 
the hare. 

' See pages 320-1 of ChappoU's Poj«<- ^ Ingenious. — W.D. ingenious. — P. 

lar Music. — F. ' winged Cylenius. — AV.l). witty Cyl- 

* Westminster BroUery inserts 'and.' Icnius. — P. " MS. ccnius. — F. 

— F. 3 Forni'd of.— W.D. '■> And voice.— W.D. '» stars.— P. 

' Sung.— W.D. " devin'd.- W.D. divine.— W. Chap- 

i too.— W.D. too.— P. prll. 1-' the huntiug.— P. 





Starres inamoured wt'tli pastimes Olimpicall, 

stares & planetts thai bewtiffall slio^vne, 
wold noe longer tJiat eartlilye men only shall ' 

swim in pleasures, & they but looke on. 
Round about horned Lucina the ^ swarmed, 

& her informed how minded they were, 
Eche god & goddesse, to take humane bodyes, 

as Lords & Ladyes, to flbllow tlie hare. 

The stars 
and pi 1171 els 

told tho 
that they 
meant to 

human forin, 
and liunt the 

chast dyana aplauded the motyon, 

w/th •* pale p/oserpiua sate in her place, 
Lights ■* the welkin & gouemes the Ocean 
20 whilest ^ shee conducted her nephews in chase, 
& by her example^ her ffavour'' to trample 

tlie cold & ample * earth, leaueth the '-' ay re, 
Neptune the Avatter, the wind "* liber pater, 
24 & Mars the slaughter, to ffollow the hare. 


and Mars 
join in the 



Light young ^' Cupid, horsset '^ vpon Pegasus, withCupid, 

borrowed of Muses w/'th Kisses and prayers ; 
strong Alcydes vpon cloudy e Caucasus Aicides, 

mounts a Centaure thai proudlye him beares ; 
Postylyon of the skye, light heeld '^ Mercurye, Mercury, 

makes ^* his courser ffly as fflight as the ''^ ayre ; 
yellow Appollo the Kenell doth ffollow, Apoiio, 

w/th '^ whoope and hallow after the hare. 

Hymen vshers the Ladyes : Astrea 

the '^ iust tooke hands with Minerua the bold, 


' f^houH.— P. 

- tlicy.— W.I), thcv.— r. 

■•> And.— W.I). And.— r. 

* Wliich li^'hts.— P. 

» wliile.— W.D. 

" and, qu. — P. 

' l<'allicr.— W.D. 

" Thr Kartli old & ample.^P. 

•• Uavc. -W.D. kavc th.y tlir 

VOL. lir. 

- I' 

'" Wine— W.D. wine— P. 
" god.- W.D. 
''■' was bors'd. — W.D. 
'» footed.— P. 
" niaketh: Conj.— P. 
'^ flv Fleet as tho.— W.D. 
the— P. 

'" and. -W.D. 
'■ tliat, qu.— P. 








Ceres the browne with the ' bi'ight Cythei'[e]a,^ 
Thetis ^ the wanton, Bellona the old/ 

shame-ffast ^ Aurora, with suttle Pandora, 
& May ^ With fflora did company ^ beare ; 

luno ^ was stated too hye to be mated, 

but,^ ^^ shee hated not hunting the hare. 






drowned Narssissus ffrom his Metamorphisis 

raised with ^' Eccho, new manhoode did take ; 
snoring Somnus vpstarted in cinaris,^^ 

that this ^3 1000** yeeres i^ was not awake, 
to see clubfFooted old Mulciber booted, 

& Pan pj-omoted on Aeolus ^^ mare ; 
proud Colons ^^ pouted, proud ''' Aeolus •** shouted 

& Momus fflowted, but ffollowed the hare. 

The liouTicls 
give tongue, 
the hunters 
sound their 


told our 
fancies about 
the hunt : 



deepe Melampus & cuning Ignobytes,'^ 

Nappy,^° & tigre, & harpye, the s[k]yes ^^ 
rends with ^^ roring, whilest hunter like ^'^ Hercules 

sounds they ^'' plcntifFull home to their cryes. 
^■' [Till with varieties To solace their Pieties 

The wary Deities Repos'd them where] 
wee shepards weare seated, the whilest ^^ wee repeated 

what wee conceited of their hunting the hare. 



' W.D. omits the 
2 Cytherea.— P. 
=■ With Thetis.— W.D. 
* doth hold. Sic Icgerim. — P. 
^ Shamefac't.— W.D. 
« Maya.— P. May.— W.D. 
' MS. campany. — F. 
s But Juno.— P. » Altho'. 

>» yot.— AV.D. 

■' Rowzed by.— P. Eais'd by.— W.D 
'■ Cimmeris. — P. Cineris. — W D. 
" The whicli. — P. 
'* thousand year. — W.D. 
'5 Chirons.— W.D. 
'» Pallas.— P. Faunus.--W.D. 
" and.— W.D. 
'* and iI']ohis. — P. 

'" fortunate L?elaps. — P. lehnobatcs 

2» Jowler.— P. Nape.— W.D. 
-' Harper, the skies. — P. 
2- Pent with.— W.D. 
^^ huntsman-like. — W.D. 
2' Winds the.— W.D. 
25 Percy inserts here from OldljaUads: 
Till with varieties 
To solace their deities, 
Their weary Pieties 
refreshed were. 
W.D. has the variations of the text 
above, and the two lines arc printed iis 
fonr. — F. 

'-° And 1hcro.— W.D. Line 53 is 
written as two lines in the MS. — F. 

f^ONGs OK ,siiErAitT>::s. 






yooung Amyntas supposed, the gods came to breathe, Amyntas 

told his, 

after some battell, themselues on the ground; 
Thirsis thought they starres * came to dwell herebeneath, Thj-rsis his, 

& flat herafter they ^ Avorld. wold goe round ; 
Corydon aged, w/th Phillis engaged, 

Avas much inraged w/th iealous dispayre, 
but fFeare "• rewarded,* & he was pcrswaded, 

when I thus aplauded their hunting the hare : 

anil I told 

" starrest but sbadowes where,^ states* were but sorrow, 

that ^ noe '" motyon, nor that no delight '' ; 
loyes are louyall, delight is the Marrow 

of lifFe, & action the apple '^ of light '■* ; 
pleasure d[e]pends vpon no other ends,'* 

but''^ ffreely lends to eche vertue a share; 
only is mesure "^ the lewell of treasuix; "■ ; 

of pleasure the treasure is '** hunting the hare." 

fibwre " broad bowles to the Olimpicall rector 

fhat'^^ Troy borne ^' Egle does bring 22 on his knee ! 
loiie to Pheobus Carrouses in nector. 

And he to Hermes, & Hermes to mee, [iwse -i:,nj 

whei'e-wi'th infused, I pipet ^^ & I mused 

in verse '^^ vnused, this sport ^^ to declare. 
O ^ that the rouse of loue, round a-s his spheero may 

lielth to all that loue hunting the hare 1 

in 11 is. 

" stars arc 
ETods no 
delight ; 

the treasure 
of pleasure 
is hunting 
the hare," 

It has 
inspired me 
to write 
health U> nli 
who love 
the harei 

' battels.-- W.D. - tlio stars.— W.D. 
3 t ho.— W.I). ■• fury WHS faded.— P. 
* fnrv vaded.— W.D. 
« Sta'rrs.— W.D. 

' wen-, — W.D. worn: Jov.'<. — P. 
« Htatc— W.D. » Had they.— W.D. 
'" thoy witliout — P. 
" these wanting Y)p\k/hi. — P. 
'- axle.— W.D. '» axle of might.- P. 
" friends.— W.D. '^ And yet,— W.D. 

'" As measures. — W.D. 
' ' pleasures. — AV.D. 

Alone is pleasure 

The measure of treasure. — P. 
"* treasures of.— W.D 
'" Three.— W.D. " His.— W.D. 

-' Boy presents. — P. 
-'- ho brings. — W.D. 
-^ I pip'd. — W.D. ■-' songs. 
" thoir sports.— P. -« And. 


[The follmnnc) jv'ece.<^, printed in Lo. and Hum. Songs, jrp 87-101 
folloio hrre in the MS, (pp. 459-63) : " Loner.'^ hm[ril-e alarum,'' " i 
freinrh of wine;' "Onay,Onay, not yrft;' '' I canvot bee confevtej;' 
'' Lilhmvhrim," '^he S<'a-rrahl,;' '' Last night T thought "^ 


" 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 Eichard Jackson, all copied prior to 
the year 1631, and including many unpublished pieces by a 
variety of celebrated poets. One of the most curious is a song 
in five seven-line stanzas thus headed : ' Shakespeare's Eime 
which he made at the Mytrein Fleete Streete.' It begins, ' PVom 
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. Eimbault gives an interesting version from a MS. collection 
of songs formerly in possession of J. S. Smith, editor of Musica 

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' ye lack ? 
What d' ye buy ? 
For here it is to be sold. 

' One stanza of this is in Wilson's Checrefull Ayrcs (1600) p. '6. — F. 


I have beauty, honour, grace, 
Virtue, favour, time, and space, 
And what else thou wouldst request, 
K'en the thing thou likest best. 

First, let mo have but a touch of tliy gold. 
Then come too, lad, 
Thou shalt have 
"What thy lust never gave. 
For here it is to bo sold. 

Though thy gentry be but young, 
As the flower that this day sprung. 
And thy father thee before 
Never arms nor scutcheon bore. 

First let me have but a catch of tliy 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 base 
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, lie points out, to l)e found in 
Playford's Select Ayres and Dialogues (1659), Dr. Wilson's 
Gheerefull Ayres and Ballads (1660), in Playford's Cai!c/i that 
Catch (7a7i (1667). The first stanza is given as "set" by Dr. 
Wilson in Playford's Musical Companion (1673). 

A remarkable writer in the Athenceum, quoted by Dr. Rini- 
bault, says the "rime is a merely clumsy adaptation from Een's 
interesting epigram ' Inviting a Friend to Supper.' " This 
gentleman had certainly not read botli poems. 


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, Rank, 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 knighthodd 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 cliaractcr ; 
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 uncrowded. 

Viucant divitise, sacro ne cedat honori, 

Nuper in banc urbem pedibus qui venerat ulbis; 

Quandoquidem inter nos sanctissima divitiaruni 

Majestas, etsi funosta pecunia templo 

Nondum habitas, nuUas nummorum 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. I. Compare, in D'Urfey's Pills to purge Melancholy, 

A gentle breeze from the Lavinian shore 
Was gliding o'or 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 ? The " Gneculus 


esuriens " whom Juvenal described with such sarcasm, as ready 
to turn his hand to anything and everything, to turn 

Grammaticus, rhetor, geometres, pictor, aliptes, 
Augur, scliojnoliates, medicus, magus, 

was but a type of what his ow^n countryman became in hxter 

ITR0]\I the rich ' Laiiinian shore i come from 


I yo«r markett ^ come to store, 
muse not you I soe farr ^ dwell, 
4 [&] hither * come my warres to sell ; ^ t°je^ii "y 

Such is they ^ Sacred hunger of gold, 
come '^ to my packe ! will you buy ^ what you ^ Buy what 

you lack! 

lacke : '« 
Avhat you lacke, ^* 
heare shall you baue '^ to be sold. , 

8 you -svbose fFortune young denyes '^ You unsuc- 

, . cessful 

grace m yo?(r belouecl '* eyes ; loveis, 

thou thy loues, vowes, or deserts ^^ 
nought p/'cuaile in womans harts ; 
12 soe be yowr palmes anointed wi'tli gold "' bring me 

come to me then ! wben, gentlemen, will you buy ? '^ 

loue, loue, is heere to be sold. ^i'"' I'H soU 

you love. 

3^ou, Avhose birth obscure & base You base- 

born nieu 
16 rankes you w/th ignoble ^* race ; 

' faire. — Wilson's Ayres. " what d'yo buy. — W.A. 

- Markets.— AV.A. " for here it is.— W.A. 

' though so farr I. — W.A. " you, whom Fortune's Wrong tleiiios. 

* and hitlier.-P. —P. 

' and my wares come hero to sell. '^ beloved's. — P. 

— W.A. " For all your loves, vows, &c. — P. 

* the. — P. '" Unless their palms be (I w**. rtaul). 
' then come. — W.A. — P. 

* while I crj\ — W.A. " " Come to me then, 

" d'ye. — W.A. will you buy Gout". 

"• What you laekr is licro to be sold. " Gcn*love &c.— P. 

—P. "* of ignoble.— P. 



wlio arc 

bring me 

and I'll sell 
you a place. 



fathers had 
no arms, 

bring mo 

and I'll sell 




defieient in 
body or 

bring me 
gold, and 
I'll sell you 
fame and 

hope, ambityon, layer strines 

ffor jour seines & ffor yo?fr wiues ; 

well then, supply tliy deflects w/tli thy gold ; 
'JO come for thy race, care not thon for a place, for a 
for a place is heare to be sold. 

Thongh thy gentry be as younge 
as the fflower that this day spronge, 
24 thongh thy ffather thee before 
neuer sheild nor scuchyon bore : 

canst ffind in thy [heart] ' for to part w/th tliy 
gold ? 
come to me, lad, thon shalt haue Avhat thy dad 
neuer had : 
28 heeres Heraldrye to be sold. 

Hath blind ffortnne hurt thy flame, 
or vnkind natnre hurt thy fiframe ? 
hart,^ nor mind, nor body, prwtes, 
32 sti'ong ^ pi'oportion, or deserts ? 

well then supply thy defects w/th thy gold ; 
come to me then ! buy thy fame ; come * againc ! 
buy thy frame ; 
fibr both are heare to be sold. 

But you 


golil you 

I can sell 
you neither 
wit nor 



But dull chapemen, they dispise 
my rich flairings to be wise ; 
they whose humors ^ still doth ^ scorne 
truth,^ and trickes & toyes adorne ; 

If you doe come w/th Millyons of gold, 
Seeke ffurther yet in my stall ; 
there is witt none att all, 

nor honesty, to be sold. 


' in thy heart. — P. 
"- Hast.— P. 
^ strength. — P. 

* MR. cono. — F. come. — P. 

'■• MS. hunors.— F. 

" do. — P. " those whom. — P. 


Come my 55aintp tiovt))*?*^ 

[page 4C4] 

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 waiiton, but there is nothing in its origin to convey 
that meaning, even if with him we derived it from dlligo . . . 
To make up a match with my eldest daughter, my wife's 
dilling, whom she longs to call madam.' Eastw. Hoe. 0. PI. iv. 

\jOME : my dainty doxeys, my dills, my dcares ! 

we liaue neitlier house nor land, 
yet neuer want good cheers ; 
4 Avoe take no care far candle, rents ; 

wee sleepe, we snort, we snore, in tents. 

Then rouse betime, & steale our dinners ; 

our store is neuer taken w/tliout pigg or bacon, 
8 & tliats good meate ffor sinners. 

Att wakes & ffaires we cozen 
poore cuntry folkes by the dozen ; 
if one haue money, he disbursses, 
12 while some tell fortune, some ^ picke pnrsscs. 

Come my 
dears ! 
Tho' we've 
no houses 

we live in 


Go and steal 
our dinners ! 

Cheat tlie 
at fairs. 

' A Gypsy's Song.— P. 

MS. sone.— F. 



For practice, 
steal boots, 

smocks, or 
anything ! 


rather then Hue out of vse, 
steals hose or garters, bootes or shoocs, 
boots, guilcled spurres wt'th inghng ^ rowells, 
shirts or smockes, napkins or towells. 

Come and 
live with us, 
all who love 
their ease ! 
Gipsies get 
drunk when 
they please, 

come line w/th vs, come line with vs, 

all you flu it loue yo^tr eases! 
he thats a Gipsey, may be drunke & tipsey 
20 att what houre he pleases ! 

and steal. 

wee laugh, wee quafFe, wee rore, we shuffle, 
wee filch, wee steale, wee drab, wee sckuffle ! 


' perhaps jingliuj^. — P. 


Co : (i^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 jil'dj- 
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 everj^ 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 Nicliols in his Prof/resses of James I. 
(i. 530-59) from Ilarl. 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 s<|ui]): c </. 


as to V. 9 : "they presented to his Majesty," he says, " a Grreek 
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, 6L a pair," &e, 

Anthony a Wood in his Annals, under 1614, speaking of the 
King's visit to Cambridge in that year, says (apiid Nichols 1. c. 
oiote) : " 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 kniglits. 

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 Eooms 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 lO : Oxford the King is gone 

gone to 

Oxford w/th all his pompous sjraco, 

to see the 

sights- to vew the sights & see the learning 

4 of thai ffiimons i)laco, 



where clownes of the towne — 
clothed in their scarlett gownes — 
giiue the 'King such a thing 
8 as passes all imageninge ; 

a paire of gloues, to testifye their loncs 
■which, to the K-iiuj they bore. 

And tlie 
clowns have 
given him 

a pair of 
glovea : 

They gaue him a payre of gloues 
12 of stifie & strong staggs lether ; 

I say, a payre of hunting gloues 
to keepe out wind and wheather. 

Some relate they gaue him plate, 
16 & a purse stufft full 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 ? 

gloves ; 

not plate 
and monoy, 
as some say. 



Next to christs- church was he brought, 

a place of Mickle ffame, 
where the warden him receiued, — 

I haue forgott his name. — 
heere they all went to the hall, 
tag & rag, great and small ; 
the bells did ring, the boyes did singe, 
& all did crye, " god saue the Kinge ! 

& grant hira grace to run a race 

w/th pleasure in Royston downcs ! " 

At Christ- 

they took 
him to the 

The hall was liougc w/th verses thicke, 
.'52 a goodlye sight to see, 

ffor euery one was willed to make 
verses in his degree. 

to their trade some had made 
30 verses called ascelpiado. 

which was 
hung all 
over with 


of all kinds, lierc might you find, of euerye Kind, 

verses ffitting to yo?(r minde : 
hexameters, lierc an examiter,^ tliere a pentamitcr, 

&c. 40 saphickes,^ & seasens^ too. llinis. 

' hexamef. — P. (the ■well-known verses, called also chol- 

* .Sapphickes. — P. iai7ib'c^). — Dyce. 

'■' Beyond all doubt an error for sca~ons 


?Catipe : Bes^^iye/ 

Inerat ibi ab imgiiiculis Doi timor et fservitium adrairabile ; in parentes vero 
mira observantia ; erga fratres et sorores amor ferme incredibilis ; in paupercs 
Christique ministros reverenda ae singidaris aifectio. — Bernard Andreas. 

Tavo 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 tlie 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 j\lr. 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 morlernised than the 
copy in Mr. Bateman's IMS. 

But we see no reason to doubt that the main ground-work of 
the poem was laiil early in the sixteenth century, or still earlier, 

' In f) P;irts. Coritaining a long Ai-- wlioreas our copy in the Folio dates from 

count of the bringing in of Hen?-// 7".' and a King's reign — no doubt James l."s, — 
all the steps previous to it, down lo the sauc & keepo our eomolye Klngc. 

battle of liosworth. — P. (To prevent the repetition of an objec- 

This is a later copy of the Ladi/c. t ion already made, I add that the epithet 

Bessie in M.S. Ilarl. 367, fol. 89, printed 'comelye' was probably applied to J;imes 

by Mr. Halliwell for the Percy Society because it was in the text, h;iving been 

in 1847, at p. 43-79 of Tlie mosf pleasant used for Elizabetii.) 
SoiKj of Ladji Bessji. The Harleian Cp. for st. 118, p. 18 1. Tiie IfMrleian 

copy is doubtless of Elizabeth's reign, — copy is not divided into parts. The eol- 

ab. IfiOO Mr. Halliwell saj's — as in its lation of it here is from Mr. HalliwelTs 

S''' line, and its last line but one, it Iims text. — F. 
save and kepe our comlyo qireene. 


by one who himself took part, as he professes, in the exciting 
transactions that are narrated — by Humphrey Erereton, 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 
exiant 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 gonth^ l''<ly cruel 
words dei'isive of lior fdlcn enemv. 



Tlicy 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 skying 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 Breieton. Probably no one but Brereton would 
have described so carefully Brereton's movements, the main 
interests of the piece centring around the Earl of Eichmond, 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 I.] 

[How the Princess Elizabeth persuades Lord Derby to help her and her 
lover Kichmond.] 

vJOD : that is most of might, God s 

& borne was of a maiden ffree, 
saue & keepe our comelye Kinge ^ 
4 & all 2 the pore cominaltye ! 


for wheras K.hig Rich(f)-(7, I vnd[e]rstand, 

had not raigned yeeres three, 
But the best duke in all the Land [page ur,] 

he caused to be headed ^ att Salsburye. 

that time the Stanleys w/thout doubt 
were dread oner England ffarr & nccre,'' 

next 'King Richard, fhdi was soc stout, 
of any hord in England Ire.'' 

the King 
and the 
Commons ! 

In Richard 
lll.'s time 

the Stanleys 
were tlio 
lords in 
England ; 

' tjueene. — ITarl. 
* also. — Ilarl. 

* A.-S. heafdkm, to head, behead. — F. 

* nee.— Ilarl. ^ free.— Uarl. 

VOL. ni. 



and when 
Lady Bessyo 


there was a Lady faire on mold, 
the Bame of her was litle Bessye ; 

shee was young, shee was not old, 
but of the age ^ of one and twentye ; 

was staying 
in London 
with Lord 

shee cold write, & shee cold reede, 

well shee cold worke by prophesyc ; 
shee soiorrned in the Cittye of London 
20 that time with the Erie of Darbye. 

she com- 
plained to 
him against 
her nncle, 
Bichard : 

"He drowned 
my brothers 

vpon a time, as I you tell, 

there was noe more but the Erie & shee ; 
shee made complaint of ^ Richard the ^ing, 
24 that was her vnckle of blood soe nye : 

" helpe, ffather Stanley, I doe you pray ! 

for of K-ing Richard \\Token I wold ^ bee. 
he did my brethren to the death on a day 
28 in their bedd where they did lye ; 

in a pipe of 


and wanted 
to put away 
his Queen 
and lie with 

You too may 
meet with 
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 Avilbee * ! 
BcKiNGAM, that duke of England, 
36 was as great w/th 'King RicharcZ as now arc yce. 

" the crowne of England there tooke hee, — 

forsooth. Lore?, this is no lye, — 
& crowned King 'Richard of England fi-ee, 
40 that after beheaded him att Salsbuiye. 

' j'eares. — ITarl. 
^ one. — Ilarl. 

will I.— ILirl. 

destroy will hee. — Hurl. 


" lielpe, fatlier Stanley, I you pray ! 

for on that traitor wroken wold I bee ; * 
& lielpe Erie Richmond, ihat Prince soe ' gay, 
41 that is exiled ouer the sea ! 

"for & he were 'King, I shold be Queene ; 

I doe him loue, & neuer him see. 
thinke on Edward, my father, that late was King, 
48 vpon his deathe-bed where he did lye : 

" of a litlo child he put mo to thee, 

for to g'oucrnc and to guide ^ ; 
into yo?(r keeping hee put mee, 
52 & left me a booke of prophecye ^; — 

" I haue itt in keeping in this citye ; — 

he knew that yee might make me a Queene, 
father, if thy will itt be ; 

for Richa rt? is no righteous Kinge, 




" nor v]3on no woman borne was hoe ; 

the royall blood of all this land, 
'Richard my vnkle will destroye 

as he did the Duke of Buckingham, 


Help, too, 

who is 

I love him. 
Think how 
uiy father, 

Edward, on 
his death- 
bod, left me 

to your care. 

as he knew 
that you 
could make 
me Queen. 

Richard will 
destroy all 
the royal 

"Who'* was as great w/thKnir/RichanZ as now are yee. 

for when he was duke of Gloster, 
he slow good King Henerye He slew 

in the Tower of London as he lay there. 

King Henry 
in the 

' Harl. omits soe. — F. 

■■^ For gye = giiiclo. — D^to. 

' See " Tlic most pleasant Song of 
Ltuly Epssy," edited from i\Ir. Batenian's 
MS. by Mr. Ilalliwell for the Percy So- 
ciety, p. 4. King BUvard speaks to liis 
little Bessy set in a window : 
" Here is a book of Reason ; keep it well. 
As yuu will have the love of me ; 

Neither to any creature do it tell, 
Nor let no livcing lord it see, 

K.\cept it be to the Lord Stanley, 

The ■which I love full heartiley : 
All the matter to him show you may. 

For ho and his thy help must bo ; 
As soon as the truth to him is shown. 

Unto your words he will agree ; 
For their shall never son of my body 
be gotten 

That shall be crowned after mo, 
But you shall be queen and wear the 

So dot h oxprcsse I he prophccyc.' ' — F. 

' which. — Ilarl. 



your brother 
Sir William 

can bring 
500 men, 

your son 

1000 men, 

your son 
300 men. 

your nephew 
Sir J. 
1500 men, 

" Sir ^vi\[iava Stanley, thy brother deere 

in the hol[t]e ' where he doth '[jc, 
he may make 500 fightinge men ^ 
68 by the marryagc of his faire Ladye.^ 

"your Sonne George, the liord Strange, 

in Latham where he doth lye, 
he may make a ] 000 ^ fEghting men in ffcrc, 
72 & giue them wages for monthes three. 

" Edward Stanley that is thy sonne,^ 

300 men may bring to thee, 
thy Sonne lames, that young preist, 
76 warden of Manchester was made lately e. 

" S/r lohn 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 ^ giue ; 

" he giueth the pikes " on his banner bright ; 

vpon a feild backed was neuer ^ hee. ^v^S'^ 466] 

Sir Gilbert Talbott, a man of might, 
84 in ShefTeild castle where he doth lye, 

" Hele make a lOOO'l men ^ of might, 

& giue them wages ifor monthes three. 
& thy selfe a 1000 Eagle flfitt lo to fEght, 
88 that is a goodlye sight to see ; 

" for thou & thine witliouten pine 
may Bring Richemond ouer the sea ; 

for & he were, I should be Queene ; 
ffather Stanley, remember bee ! " 


1000 men (?) 

1000 men : 

You and 
yours can 
and then 
he'll be 
King, and I 

' holte.— Harl. holto, viJ. St. 50, &c., 
passim. — P. 

* ten thowsand fighting men in fore. 
— Ilarl. 

'•> llarl. transposes linos G8 and 72. — F. 

' niako fyvo thowsand. — Ilarl. 

^ camo, cju. — P. sonne. — Harl. 


•^ doc— Harl. 

' pickes. — Ilarl. 

* neiier backed was. — Ilarl. 

° He may make ton thowsand. — Harl. 
'" ten thowsand eigle feeto. — Harl. 
Tlio Stanley liadge was an eagle's foot. 
See vol. i. p. 223, note ". — F. 



then answered the Earle againo ; 

tliese were the words lie sayd to Besste : 
" & K-incj Richard doe know this thing,! 
96 wee were vndone, both thou and I ; 

"In a ffire you - must brcnn, 

my Hffe & my lands are ^ lost from niee ; 
therfore these words be in vaine : 
100 leauc & doe away, good Bessye ! " 

" fiather Stanley ! is there no grace ? 

noe Queene of England thai I must bee ? 
then Bessye stoode studying ^ in thai place 
104 With teares trickling fFrom her eyen : 

" Now I know I must neuer be Queene ! 

all this, man, is longe of ^ thee ! 
but think e on the dreadffull day 
108 when the great doame itt shalbe, 

" when righteousnesse on the rainbowe shall sitt, 
& deeme ^ he shall both thee and mee, 

& all ffalshood away shall fflitt 
when all truth shall by him bee ! 




" I care not whether I hange or drowne, 
soe tliai my soule saued may bee ; 

make good answer as thou may, 

ffor all this, man, is longe of ^ thee." 

With tliai shee tooke her head grace * downe, 

& threw itt downe ^ vpon the ground, 
both '° pearles & many a precyous stone 
tliai were better then a 1000 i^ pound. 

Lord Derby 
that if 
loicw of this 

he'd burn 
her, and 
kill hiui. 

She must 

" Is there no 
grace ? 
Am I never 
to be 
Queen ? 

Stanley ! 
Think on 
the day of 

when Christ 
shall judge 

Care not for 
so that you 
can answer 
God ! " 

dashes lier 
on the 

' then.— Harl. ^ thou.— Harl. 

' liind is. — Harl. 

■• styding.— Ilarl. 

'•' on. — llarl. 

" And all dcnie. — Harl. 

' on. — Harl. Cp. Cotgravo's '^ A ioij 
ii'a pas toiu. Tboii vert HO liiudtra lice . . 
it, was not lonr/ <//" thee— !•'. 

8 perhaps geare.— P. gere.— Harl. 
Yet "grace" may have been intended, as 
in the description of a peasant : 
" Her bon grace was of wended straw." 
— W.C. 

" did it throwe. — Harl. ^ 

'" with.— Harl. 

" theri fowertvc- Harl. 



tears licr 


licr ffaxe ^ that was as wMte as silkc, 
sliortly downe shee did itt rent ; 

With her hands as white as any milke, 
her ffaire ffaxe thus hath shee ^ spilt • 

wrings her 

and bids 
Lord Derby 

her Lands together can shec wringe, 

& With teai^es shoe Avipes her eye ; 

" welladay, Bessye ! " can shee sing, 

128 & parted With the Erie of darbye. 

He turns 

" ff are- well, man ! now am I gone ! 

itt shall be long ere thou me see ! " 
the Erie stood still as any stone, 
132 & all blarked^ was his blee. 


sa}'s " Stay, 
Bessie ! 


when he heard Bessye make such mone, 

the teares fell downe from his eye, 
" abyde, Bessye ! wee part not soe soone ! 
136 heere is none now ^ but thee and I ; 

I fear 

" ffeild hath eyen, & wood hath eares, 

you cannott tell who standeth vs by ; 
but wend forth, Bessye, to thy Bower, 
140 & looke you. doe as 1 bidd yee ^ : 

but at 9 
I'll be in 
your bower 

" put away thy maydens bright, 
thai noe person doth vs see ^ ; 
for att nine of the clocke w/thin this night, 
144 in thy bower will I be wi'tli thee ; 

' faxc, hair, A.-S.fcax, idem. — P. 
2 lit'.— Harl. 

^ ? fiplcnt (cf. splinter). — Uyce. 
♦ Meneked.-Harl. lilanked— lii.s blee, 
vide infra, Page 470 [of MH. 1. 412 here] : 

i. c. his Complexion turned pale. — P, 
^ I wone here is noe moe. — Ilarl. 
6 the.— Ilarl. 
' th(>rc with us bee. — Ilarl. 




" then of this matter wee will talke ^ more, 
when there is no moe but you ^ and I ; 

A charcole [fire] ^ att my desu-e, 
iliat no smoke come in our eye ; "* 

and talk 
more with 

Have a 
charcoal fire 
that won't 

" Peeces ^ of wine many a one, 

& diners 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 ^ was therby ; 

She goes 

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 & diners spices lay ^ therby. 

gets ready 
a charcoal 

and spices. 

Pen, Inke, & paper, shee ^ wanted none, 
& ^ hadd all things there flfull readye, 
& sett her selfe vpon a stone 
164 without ^'^ any companye. 

[page 4G7] pen and 

shee tooke a booke in her hande, 

& 1 ^ did read of prophecye, 
how shee shold bee Queene of ^^ England, 
1G8 but many a guiltelesse man first must dye ; 

and reads 
her book of 

* carpe. — Harl. 

* thou. — Harl. 

' fire, vide infra. — P. 

* With no cliimney in the room, the 
wood smoke would make their eyes 
smart. See Pref. to Bahccs Hook, p. Ixiv. 
— F. 

^ cup.s. See ' a peece of wine,' p. 333, 

1. 3()f) below, and 1. 159; also Bahccs 
Book, p. 325, 1. 792.— F. 

" mayden was tliere nye. — Harl. 
' dyvers spiees did lye. — Harl. 
* there. — Harl. 
" shee. — Harl. 
'" withouten. — Harl. 
" and there. — Harl. '■' in. — Harl. 



till Lord 
Derby comes 
at y lit 


& as shee read ffurtlier,' shee wept. 

with ^ that came the Erie of Darbye ; 
att nine of the clocke att ^ night 

to hessyes bower Cometh hee. 

She bar? her 

shee barred the dore aboue and vnder, 
that no man shold come them nye ^ ; 
shoe sett him on [a] seate [soe] * 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,^ "blend in, ffather, & drinke to me." 
the fire was hott, the spice itt bote, 
ISO the wine itt wrought ^ wonderfFullye. 

and he 
her what- 
ever she 

She wants 
only her 

then kind ^ in heat, god wott, 

then weeped the noble ^ Erie of Darbye : 
" aske now, Bessye then,i° what thou wilt, 
184 & thy boone granted itt ^^ shalbce." 

" Nothing," said Bessye, " I wold haue, 

neither of gold nor yett of fiee, 
but ffaire Erie Richmond, soe god me sane, 
188 that hath lyen soe long beyond the sea." 

Lord Derby 
says he'd 
gi-ant her 
request if ho 
had a clerk 
he could 
trust to 
write for 


" Alas, Bessye! that '^ noble Lord 

& thy boone, fforsooth, grant wold I thee ; 

but there is no clarke that I dare '^ trust 
this night to wi'ite fibr thee and mee, 

' faster. — Harl. 

* And with. — Harl. 
' within the. — Harl. 
■• nee. — Harl. 

° a seate soe. — Harl, 

• Said.— Harl. 

' wroiighte. — Harl. 

8 full kynde.— Harl. 
' Maxcd the oulde. — Harl. 
'« Harl. omits ihen.—F. 
" And nowe thy bouno grannted.- 

'- said that.— P. said that.— Harl. 
'^ doe. — Harl. 




" because our matter is soe liyc, 
lest any man wold vs bewray." 

Besste said, " ffather, itt shall not needc : 
I am a clarke fFull good, I say." 

Bessje sas's 
she'll be 

sliee drew a pape?' 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. 


" ffather Stanley, now let me sec, 
ffor euery word write shall I." 
" Bessye, make a letter to the Holt 
204 there ^ 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 Avont to Lye ; 

Lord Derby 
dictates a 
letter to Sir 

telling him 
to come to 

" & lett his fface be towards the benchc,^ 

lest any man shold him espye ; 
& by the 3''. day of May 
212 that ho come and speake with mee. 

by May 3. 

" Com7)iend me to my sonne George, 

the Jjord strange, where he doth lye, 
& bidd him bring 7 sadd yeomen ; 
2 1 all in greene clothes lett them bee, 

He dictates 
letter to his 
son George, 
bidding him 
also come 

" & lett himselfe be in the same suite, 
& change ■* his Inn in euery towne, 
& lett his backe be flfroe the bcnche, 
220 Lest any man shold him knowne ; 

' wrytc full.— Harl. 
* whereas. — Harl. 

' ? moaning. — F. 
* i.'iianii<j;iii'r. — Harl. 


by May 3. 

Another to 
his son 

bidding him 
to come by 


Another to 
Sir J. 

Savage and 

them to 
come by 
May 3. 

Lord Derby 
seals the 



"& by the 81 day of May 

bidd him come & speake w/tli mee. 
Commend me to Edward my sonne, 

the warden ' & hee togetherr bee, 

"& bidd them bring 7 sadd yeomen, 

& all in gTeene lett them bee, 
changing their Inn in euery towne 
228 where before ^ they were wont to Lye ; 

" lett their backes be fFrom the bench, 

lest any man shold them see ; 
& by the S". day of ]\Iay 
232 bidd them come & speake w/th mee. 

Comend me to Sir lolin Sauage 

& Sir Gilbert Talbott in the north cuntrye, 
& [let] either of them [bring] ^ 7 sad yeomen, 
236 and all in greene lett them bee, 

" Changing their Inn in euery towne 

before where they were wont to bee ; 
& by the 3'^. day of May 
240 lett "* them come & speake -with, me." 

Bessye writeth, the Lord he sealeth ; 

" ffather Stanley, what will yee more ? " 
" alas ! " sayd thai royall Lord, 
244 " all our worke is ^ fforlore ! 

[page 48G] 

but then he 
has no 
that lie can 

" fTor there is noe messenger thaf^ wee may trust 

to bring the tydings to the north cuntrye, 
^ lest any man shold vs betraye, 
248 ^ because our matter is soc hye." 

' See line 76 above. — F. 
* Before where. — Harl. 
^ bjd them bryngo eyther of them. 

' byd.— Harl. * yt is.— Harl. 

* \vhom. — Hiirh 

' The Folio transposes these two lines. 
Harl. lias ihcm as here printed. — F. 




" Humplirey Bretton,i " said litle Bessye, 
" lie liatli beene true to my father & mee, 

liee shall haue the writting ^ in hand, 
& bring them into the North cuntrye. 

Bessye saj-s 
will take 
the letters. 

" goo to thy bedd, ffather, & sleepe, 

& I shall worke ^ ffor thee & mee, 
to-Morrow by rising of the sunn 
256 Humphrey Bretton shall be w;'th thee." 

shee brought the Jjord to "* his bedd, 

all that night where he shold Lye ; 
& Bessye worketh ^ all the night ; 
260 there came no sleepe in her eye. 

She takes 
Lord Derby 
to bed, 

[Part II.] ' 

[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, 
vp riseth Bessye in that stower, 

to Humphrey Bretton gone is shee "^ ; 

but when shee came to Humphreys bower. 

mid at day- 

goes to 


With a small voice called shee. 

Humphrey answered that Lady bright, 
& saith, "lady, who are yee 

that calleth on me ere^ itt be light ? " 

and calls 

He asks who 
it is. 


" I am ' Edwards daughter, 

the countesse cleere, young Bessye : 
in all the hast thou ^ can, 

thou must come speake AVith the Erie of Darbye." 

" King 
Lady Cicero, 
come to 
Lord Derby." 

' Breerton. — Harl. & so tlirougliout. 

* writynges. — Harl. 
' wake. — Harl. 

* unto. — Harl. 

" waketh. — Harl. 

' The 2'! P'! Query.— P. 

' she ys. — Harl. 

8 yc-r.— Harl. » that thou.— Harl. 



goes with 

to Lord 

who gives 
him the 6 


promises to 
reward him 
when she's 

p.nd tells 
him to avoid 

Humphrey cast vpon [him] ' a gowne, 

a paire of shppers on ^ his ffeete. 
for[th] of [his] Chamber ^ then he came, 
276 & wenf* With thai Lady sweet. 

shee brought him to the bed side 

where they Jjord lay in bed to sleepe. 
when they ^ Erie did Humj)hrey see, 
280 full tenderlye can hee ^ weepe, 

& said, "my loue, my trust, my liffe, my Land, 

all this, Humphrey, doth Lye iu thee ! 
thou may make, & thou may marr, 
284 thou may vndoe Bessye & mee ! 

" take sixe letters in thy hand,'' 

& bring them into the north countrye ; 
they be written on they ^ backside, 
288 where they letterrs deliuered shokP bee." 

he recciued the letterrs sixe ; 

into the west wend '° wold hee. 
then meeteth him that Ladye bright, 
292 she said, "abide, Humphray, & speakc w/th mce. 

" a poore reward I shall thee giue, 

itt shall be but pounds three ; 
if I be Queene, & may line, 

better rewarded shalt thou bee. 



" A litle witt god hath sent mce : 
when thou rydest into the west, 

I pray thee take no companye 
but such as shall be of the best. 

' him. — Harl. 

* upon. — Harl. 

3 forth of his ChamL':— P. 
his chamber. — Harl. 

* went forthe. — Harl. 
*> the.— Harl. 

* then can. — Harl. 

' MS. hamcl.— F. thyno hande.— 
forthe of Harl. 

« the.— Harl. 
^ leA'ercd shall.- — Harl. 
'"> wyndc.— Harl. 




" sitt not too long drinking tliy ' wine, 
lest in heat ^ thou be too merrrje ; 

such words you ^ may cast out then, 

to-morrow * iforthought^ itt '' may bee.' 

and not sit 
too loiiR 
over his 

Humphray of ^ Besste recemed noble[s] nine ** ; 

Av/th 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 ^ way. 

when Sir william Stanley did him see, 

he said to him wt'th words free, 
" Humphrey Brettom, what maketh thce'° hcere, 
312 that hither dost ryde soe hastily e ? 

She gives 

him nine 


and a cup of 


and he rides 

Sir W. 

"How [farcth] ^^ tJiat Lore?, my brother deai'c, who asks 

That lately was made the Erie of darby, Iv^so -tfio] Lord Derby, 
is he dead without letting, 
31G or With JLing Richard his counsell ^^ is hee? 

" Or he be suspected without '^ lett, 

or taken into the tower so hye, 
London gates shall tremble & quake 
320 but my brother borrowed shall bee ! 

" tell me, Humphrey, w/thouten lett, 
that rydest hither '' soe hastilye." 
" breake that letter," ^^ said Humphrey tlicn 
324 " behold then, and you shall see." •** 

the.— Harl. 

liarto. — ILirl. 

tlioii. — Ilarl. 

the other morrowe. — Harl. 

for thought. — P. repented of. — F. 

Harl. omits itt. — F. 

at.— -Harl. 

ree'? nobles nine. — P. nowbles. — 

If ho is pnt 

in the Tower, 



shall tremble 

for it. 

h;inds him 
the Earl's 


•■> the.— Harl. 
'» thou.--Harl. 

" fareth.— Harl. How cloth that.— P. 
'- what consayte. — Harl. 
'^ withouton. — Harl. 
" hither rydeth.— Harl. 
'■■ breake letter.— Harl. 
'" IJeliuuIdo, sir, and yec may see. — 
Harl. ^ 



Sir William 
bites his 




when tlie K.niijht Looked the Letter ' on, 

he stood still in a studdiinge : 

fiiiswer to Humphrey gane he none, 

328 but still hee gnew ^ on his staffe end. 

he plucket the letter in peeces three, 
into the water he cold itt fflinge ^ : 
"haue heere, Humphrey," said the ^nir/M, 
3.^2 " I will 2:iue thee a 100 shillino'e : 

tells him to 
go to sleep, 

and he'll lend 
him a fresh 

rests two 

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 horsse 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, " & slccpc 
340 well the space of houres three ; 

" a fPresh horsse I thee behett, 

shall bring [thee] through the north countrye." 
■* Humphray slept but howers 2, 
344 but on his lourney well thought hee ; 

a ffresh horsse was brought to him 

to bring him through the west countrye. 
he tooke his leaue at the 'Knight, 
348 & straight to Latham rydeth hee, 

& att 9 of Clocke in ^ the night, 

att Latham gates ^ knocketh hee. 
the Porter ariseth '^ anon-right, 
352 & answerd " Humpliray w^'th words ffrce, 

' tlie latter looked. — Harl. 
2 gneve. — Harl. gnawed. — F. 
^ slyngo. — Hiirl. 

' The Folio ■vvronply transposos linps 
343 & 347, 344 & 348. Harl. has thi.m 

right, as printed here. — F. 

* At nyno of the clocke within. 
« yates.— Harl. 
' rysetli. — Harl. 
^ answercth. — Harl, 



" In good fFaitli, itt is to Late 

to call on me this time of the night." 
" I pray the, porter, open the gate, 
356 & lett me in anon-right ; 

" with the hord strange I must speakc, 
from his ffather, the Erie of Darbye." 
the porter opened vj) the gates, lets him in, 

360 & in came his horsse and hee. 

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 and takes 

- n X 7 1 X ^"" *" Lord 

wlieras the Lord strange L/ay. strange in 


the Lord he mused m that tyde, 
368 & sayd, " Humphrey, what hast thou to say ? 

" how ffareth my ffather, that noble Lord ? 

in all England he hath no peere.^ " 
Humphrey tooke a letter in his hand, Humphrey 

gives liim 

372 & said, " behold & yee may see.^ " his letter, 

when they hord strange looked the letter vpon, 
the teares trickled downe his eye ; 

he sayd, " wee must vnder a cloudc,* 
376 for wee may ^ neuer trusted bee ; 

wee may sigh " & make great moanc ; - 
this world is not as itt shold bee. 

' downc unto. — Hurl. ' cloddc. — Karl. 

'•^ no pcere hath he (to rhyme with * niuste. — Harl. 

•hat follows). — Dycc. " siko. — Harl. 

' here. — Harl. 



and he 

to keep his 

" comend me to my father dcere, 
380 his daylye blessing he wold ' giue m.e ; 
for & I Hue another yeere, 

this appontment keepe will I." 

rides on 
to Man- 

sees Sir 
Stanley and 
Ids brother, 



he receined gold of my Lor*? Strange, 
& straight to Manchester rydeth hee ; 

And when hee came to Manchester, 

Itt was prime of the day ; [page 4<o 

he was ware of the warden & Edward Stanley, 
together their Mattins fifor to say. 

then "^ one brother said to the other, 
"behold, brother, & yon may see, 
heere cometh Humphrey Bretton, 
392 some hastye tydings^ bringheth hee." 

and gives 
them their 

They rejoice. 

he betooke them either a letter,* 
& bidd them looke & behold ; 
& read they did these lei^errs readylye,^ 
39G & vp they lope, & laught aloude. 

shall bo 

And saith,^ " ffaire ffall ouv ffather thai noble Lord ! 

to stirre and rise beginneth hee ; 
Buckinghams blood shall be roken,^ 
400 thai was beheaded ^ att Salsburye. 

and Bessy's 

love brought 
over the sea. 

" ffaire ffall the Countesse, the 'K.ings daughter, 

thai good ^ Councell giue cold slice ; 
wee trust in god ffull "^ of might 
404 to bring: her Lord ouer the sea ! 

' wolde.— Harl. ^ The— Harl. « said.— Harl. 

" tliyth.indes. — Harl. ' wroken. — Harl. 

* Ho tooke cyther a k'Ltor in their " luadod. — Harl. 

handos. — Harl. » (such. — Harl. 

^ radlyc— Harl. '<• t^oo full.— Harl. 

rcvwigi'd.— F. 



" baue heere, Humpliray, of eitlaer 40' ; 

better rewarded shall tliou bee." 
be tooke the gold att tbeir band ; 
408 to ' Sa- lobn Sauage rydetli bee, 

& bee tooke bim a letter in ^ band, 

bade 3 bini "bebold, read, and see." 
&^ when tbe K/i/V/Z^t the Letter badd, 
412 all blanked-'' was bis blee : 

" woniens witt is wonder to beare ! 

my vnckle is turned by yo«r ^ Bessye ! 
& wetber itt turne to weale or woe,^ 
416 att my vnckles biddinge will I bee.® 

" baue beere, Humpbrey, 40'. : 

better rewarded may tbou bee ! 
to Sheffeld Castle Looke tbou ryde 
420 in all tbe bast that may bee." 

ffortb tben rydetb tliai gentle K.iii(jhi ; 

Sa- Gilbert Talbott ffindetb ^ bee ; 
bee tooke bim a letter in bis band, 
424 & bidd bim, " readc & yee may '^ see." 

wben Sir Gilbert Talbott tbe letivG looked on, 

a loude laugbter laugbed bee : 
" ffaire flfall that Lord of bye ^ ' renown e ! 
428 to rise and stirr '^ beginnetb bee ! 

" ffaire ffall Bessye, that Countesse cleere, 

that sucb councell giuetb trulye ! 
Comcnd me to my nepbew deare, 
432 tbe young Eric of Sbrewsbyrye, 

goes then to 
Sir Jolin 

and he 
swears to 
his uncle. 

Sir Gilbert 
letter is not 

and he vows 

' and to. — Hurl. 

^ in his. — Harl. 

' and bad. — Harl. 

■* Harl. has nu cj-. — F. 

* then all blencked. — Ilarl. 

" you. — Harl. 


' wayle. — Harl. 

" I will.— Harl. 

" then fyndeth. — Harl. 
'" he mighte. — Harl. 
" richo. — Harl. 
'- stirrc and nowc. —Harl. 



that he'll 
set Lord 
Strange free, 

to England, 

" bidcl liim neuer dread for no death, 

In London Towre if hee hee ; 
I shall make London tremble & quake 
436 but my nephew bon^owed shalbee ! 

*' Comend me to tJiat Countesse cleere, 
''Ki7ig Edwards daughter, young Bessye ; 

tell her, I trust in god that hath no peerc 
to brina: her lone oner the sea. 



" Comend me to that Jjord wtthout ^ dread 
that latelye was made Erie ^ of darbye ; 

& 3 euery haire of my head 
for a man counted might bee, 

and live and 
die with 
Lord Derby. 

rides back to 

and finds 
Lord Derby 
with King 

" With that Jjord withouten dread, 

with him will I line 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 ^ings daughter,^ yoimg Bessye, 
452 'King Edwards daughter forssooth is sliee, 

" In all this Land shee hath no peere." 
he ^ taketh his leaue att the K.night, 
& straight to London rydeth hee. 
456 & when he came to London right 

•■ 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,^] [page 47i] 

withouten. — Harl. 
the Earlc— Harl. 
and. — Harl. 
to the Cowntas. — Harl. 

f' thus ho.— Harl. 

« The 3"? Parte. Query.— P. 

' seen. — P, 



lie gaue him a priuye twinke ' with his eye. Derby 

1 T7- • IT winks 

then Humphrey came before the Kmg soe tlrec, at him, 
& downe he ffalleth \^on his knee. 
464 " welcome, Humphray ! " said the Erie of Darbyc : 

" where hast thou beene, Humphray ? " said the Erie, and asks 

where he 1 

" ffor I haue mist thee weekes three. been. 






" I haue beene in the west, my Jjord, 
where I was borne and bredd trul^'e, 

" ffor to sport me & to play 

amonge my ffreinds ffarr & nye." 
"tell me, Humphrey," said the Eric, 

" how ffareth all ^ that Countrye ? 
3 tell me, Humphray, I thee pray, 

how ffareth King Richards Comunaltye ? " 

" of all Country es, I dare well say, 
they beene the fflower * of archerye, 

ffor they will be trusty with their bowcs, 
for ^ they ^vill flight & neuer fflce." 

when KiiKj JHchard heard Humphray soe say, 

in his hart hee was ffuU merry e ; 
hee ^ w/th his Cappe that was soe deere 

thanked him ' ffull ourteouslye, 
& said, " ffather Stanley, thou art to mee necre,^ 

you are cheeffe of yo?/-r Comynaltye, 

" halfe of England shalbe thine, 

& equally devided betAveene thee & mcc ; 
I am thine, & thou art mine, 
488 & for ^ 2 ffullowes will wee bee. 

" Amnsitig 
among my 

" How arc 
there ? " 

" They are 
the flower 
of archery, 
will fight, 
and never 

is glad, 

and promises 

Lord Derby 



' twynckc. — Iliirl Uio Ijjise of twin- 
kle.— ¥. 

* all in. — Harl. 

' The Folio wrongly puts lines 473-4 
after line 478. Tln'ir position is altered 
here on the nntliorily of the Hni'leiiin 
MS.— F. 

* checfo.-^IIarl. 

» And —Harl. 

° Hurl, transfers J/e to the next line. 
- 1'. 

' that hmlo.— H. 

" locrc : for nacrf, with half the n left 
cut.— F. " soe.— Harl. 




for no one ia 
like him. 


" I sweare by Marry, maid ' mild, 
I know none sucli vnder the skye ! 

whilest I am ^ & wears tlie Crowne, 
I Avill be clieeffe of the poore ^ Comynalfcye. 

And he, 
Richard, will 
never tax 
the com- 

" tax nay mise "* I will make none, 
in noe Cuntry ifarr nor neare ^ ; 
fFor if by their goods I shold jDlucke them downe, 
49G for me they will ffaight ^ fFull fifainteouslye. 

who are hi3 



" There is no riches to me soe rich 

as is the pore Comynaltye." "^ 
when they had ended all their speechc, 
500 they tooke their leaue fFull gladlye, 

The King 
leaves them, 

and they go 
to Bessye's 

& to his Bower the King is gone. 

then the Erie and^ Humphrey Bretton, 
to Bessyes bower they ^ went anon, 
.504 & ifound Bessye there alone. 

She kisses 

when Bessye did see Humphrey anon, 
anon ^^ shee kissed him times three, 
saith, " Humphray Bretton, welcome home ! 
508 how hast thou spedd in the west Cuntry e ? " 

and prays 
him to 
tell her his 

Into a parler they went anon, 

there was no more but hee & shee : 
" Humphray, tell mee or hence I " gone, 
512 some ty dings '^ out of the west Countrye 

' mayden. — Harl. ^ be. — Harl. 

' llarl. has no poore. — F. 

' Taske ne myse. — Harl. Tax ne 
levies qu. — P. For mise, expeuce, dis- 
bursement, money layed out, or the 
laying out of money. Cotgrave. — F. 

* nye. — Dyee. 

* fight, qu. — P. woulde fyghte. — 

' These sentiments may show who the 
Ballad- writer's audience were, and that he 

looked to please them rather than engage 
their sympathy on Richmond's side. 
Had his words represented the King's 
real feelings, no doubt Richard would 
have kept his crown. — F. 

8 MS. of.— F. and.— P. and.- Harl. 
" there has been altered into thei/ in 
the MS.— F. 

'" Hurl, omits Anon. — F. 

" I hence. — ^Harl. 

'■■= tythaudos.— Harl. 



" If I shold send fFor yonder Prince 
to come oner fFor the Lone of mee, 
raid niurtliered amongst ' his fFoes to bee, 
516 alas, that were ffuU great pittye ! 

" fforsooth, that sight I wold not see 

for all the gold in Christentye ! 
tell me, Humphray, I thee pray, 
520 how hast 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 ^ had, 

524 & what rewards hee had trulye : 

" By the third day of May, Bessye," he sayd, 

" 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 

tells her 

that on 
May 3 
her friends 
will be in 
and she shall 
be Queen. 

[Part III.] 

[lli)\v Lord Derby's friends come to London ; and how the Princess Elizabeth 
sends Humphrey Bretton to her lover, Kichmond.] 

thus they prouided in ^ the winter time 

their councell to ■* keepe all three, 
the Erie wrought by pj-ophecye, Lord Derby 

532 he wold not abyde in London trulye,'^ [page 472] 

but in the suburbs without the Cittye 

an old Inn Chosen hath hee, 
& drew an Eagle "^ vpon the entrye 
536 that the wcsterne men might know where to Lye.'' 

to an old Inn 
in the 

1 by.— Harl. ' lie of tliem—Harl. 

3 for.— Ilarl. * for to. — Ilarl. 

' The Earle woiilde not in London 


for whye — he wrouglite by jirophesvo. 


« Tlio Eagle's foot was the Badge of 
tlio Stanleys. Percy in vol. i. p. 223, 
note 1'.— F". 

' myghte yt see. — Harl. A curious 
I'lstance of ancient Hospitality. — P. 



and thither 
on May 3 

Sir William 


Humphrey stood in a liye tower, 
& looked into tlie west Conntrye ; 

Sir William Stanley & 7 in greene 
came straight ryding * to the Citye. 

when he was ware of the Eagle di-awne, 

he drew himselfe wonderous nye, 
& bade his men goe into the towne, 
544 & dranke ^ the wine and make merry e. 



Into the Inn where the Eagle did bee, 

fforsooth shortlye is hee gone. 
Humphray Looked into the west, 
548 & saw the hord strange & 7 come 

ryding in greene into the Cittye. 

when hee was ware of the Eagle ' drawen, 
he drew himselfe wonderous nye, 
552 & bade his men goe into the towne, 

"* & spare no cost, & where they come 

& ^ drinke the wine & make good cheere ; 
& hee himselfe drew ffull nye 
556 into the Inn where his ffather Lay. 

Sir Edwanl 
Stanley, and 
his brother, 

Humphrey looked more into the west ; 

Six-teene ^ in greene did hee see, 
the warden & Sir Edward Stanley 
560 came ryding both in companye. 

' ryding streight into. — Harl. 
2 drynke. — Harl. 
" oulde eigle. — Harl. 
* This stanza is in the Harl. MS. 
And drynke the wyne and make 
good chearo, 
and whereever tlipy coiuc, noe 
c'oste to sparo. 

then to the inno where his fatlier 
he drewe hymselfe wundorous 
neare. — F. 
» to.— F. 

" The form of the x changes here, 
and in 1. 582, &c. to the modern one. 




there as the Eagle was drawen, 
the gentlemeu drew itt nye, 

& hade their men goe into the towne, 
& drinke the wine & make merrye ; 

& went into the same Inn 

there where their ffather Lay.* 
yett Humphray beholdeth into the west, 
568 & looked towards the North country e ; 


he was ware of Sir lohn sauage & Sir Gylbert 

came ryding both in companye. 
when they where ware of the Eagle drawen, 

then they drew themselues fFuU ^ nye, 

Sir John 
Savage, and 
Sir Gilbert 

& bade their men goe into the towne, 
& drinke the ynne & make merry ; 
& yode ^ themselues into the inne ■* 
576 where the Erie and Bessye Lay.* 

when all the Jjords together mett, 

among them all was litle Bessye ; 
with goodlye words shee them grett,'"' 
580 & said, " Lords, will yee doe ffor mee ? 

them all. 

" what, will yee releeue yonder Prince 

that is exiled beyond the sea ? " 

the Erie of Darbye came fforth then ; 

584 these be ^ they words he said to Bessye 

Lord Derby 
says he'll 

' where the carle their father lee. — 

* wunderous. — Harl. 

' yode, i.e. went. — P. yende. — Ilarl. 

* MS. inme, — F. 

^ lee. — Harl. Forti rythmi gratia. 
Where lay the Earl & Ifiy Bessye.— P. 

" i. e. greeted. — P. can them greet<^. 

' were. — Harl. 



give her 40?. 

and 20,000 


" ffoiirty Pound will I send, 
Bessje, ffor the lone of tliee ; 

& 20000 Eagle ffeette,i 

a queene of England to make thee." 

Sir William 

Sir "William Stanley came fforth then ; 

these were the words hee sayd to Bessye 
" remember, Bessye, another time,^ 
592 who doth the best now ffor thee. 

10,000 men. 

She shall be 
Queen, or 
he will die. 

" 10000 Cotes thai beene red, 

in an howers warning ready shalbee. 
In England thou shall be a queene, 
596 or else doubtelesse I will dye." 

Sir John 
will give 


S/r lohn Sauage came fforth then ; 

these were the words he said to Bessye : 
" 1000 marke ^ ffor thy sake 
coo I will send thy loue beyond the sea." 

the Lord strange Came fforth then ; [pngo 473] 

these were the words he said to Bessye : 
" a litle mony & ffew men 
G04 will bring thy loue ouer the sea ; 

advises that 
they keep 
their money 
at home. 

" Lett vs keepe our gold att home 

for to wage our company e. 
if wee itt send ouer the sea,"* 
608 wee put our gold in leopardye." 


Edward Stanley came forth then ; 

these were the words he sayd to Bessye 
" remember, Bessye, another time, 
612 he tliai doth now ^ best ffor thee ; 

> ? MS. ffeelte.— F. feete.— Harl. 
perhaps feete. — P. Lord Derby's own 
Badge. — F. 

■•* MS. tume.— F. 

' ten thousand nuirkes. — Harl. 

'' foiuno. — Hfirl. 

'" nowe dotho. — Harl. 




" ffor there is no ' power that I liaue, 

nor no gold to giue tliee ; 
■\Tider 2 my ffiitliers banner will I bee ^ 

either fFor to Hue or dye." 

he has 
men nor 
but he'll 
fight for 

Bessye came fForth before the Lo7v7s all, 

& vpon her knees then ffalleth shee ; 
" 10000 pound I will send 
C20 to my louc ouer ■* the sea. 

She thanks 
them all. 

She'll send 

" who shall be our messenger ^ 

to bring the ^ gold ouer the sea ? 
Humphrey Bretton," said Bessye ^ ; 
624 " I know none soe good as hee." 




fi'om taking 

" alas ! " sayd Humphrey, " I dare not take in hand He tries to 

to carry the gold ouer the sea ; 
they Galley shipps beene ^ soe stronge, 
G2S they will me neigh wonderous nighe, 

" they will me robb, they will me drowne, 

they will take they ^ gold fFrom mee." 
"hold thy peace, Humphrey," sayd litle Bessye, 
032 " thou shalt itt carry without ^^ leopardye; 

but she tells 
him to be 
quiet ; he 
shall take it 

" thou shalt haue no baskett nor no male ; 

no buchett '^ nor sacke-cloth i^ shall goe with thee ; 
three Mules tJiat be stifFe & stronge, 

loded with gold shall they bee ; 
w^'th saddles side'^ skirted, I doe thee tell, 

wherin the gold sowed i** slialbe. 

in the saddle- 
flaps of 
three mules. 

nowc noe. — Harl. 

but vxndor. — Harl. 

fyghte.— Harl. 

even to my love beyoiifle. 

messenger then. — Harl. 

our. — Harl. 

litill Bes.sie. — Harl. 

« the bo.— Harl. 

» the. Harl. "> out of.— Harl. 

" Budget.— P. bothed.— Halliwell. 
-Harl. for boched (t. i. budget). — Harl. 

'■* clothe saeke. — Harl. 
'^ wide, or long. — F. 
'* sewed. —Harl. 



" if any man sayes, ' who ^ is the shipp 
640 tliai sayleth iforth vpon the sea ?' 
Say itt is the Lore? Liles ; 

in England & ffrannce welbeloued is hee.' 

Lord Derby then came fforthe the Erie of Darbye ; 

C44 these were the words he sayd to Bessye ; 
^^^^'^^ lie said : "Bkssye, thou art to blame 

to poynt any shipp vpon the sea ! 

has a ship 
in which 
shall go : 
no alien will 

" I haue a good shipp of my owne 
648 shall carry Hurafhrey & my mules three ; 
an Eagle shalbe drawen vpon the top mast,^ 
that the out allyants ^ may itt see. 

touch the 


" there is no ffreake in all ffrance 
052 that shipp that dare come nye.* 
if any man aske whose is the shipp, 
say 'itt is the Erie ^ of Darbyes.' " 


sails from 
Hippon with 
the money, 



HvMjjhrey tooke the Mules three ; 

into the west wind taketh hee ; 
att Hippon ^ withouten doubt 

there shipping taketh hee ; 
with a fifaire ^ wind & a Coole 

thus he sayleth vpon the sea 

■ whoes. — Harl. 
^ maste toppe. — Harl. 
^ out-alliens.— P. the Italyants.— 

* that the eigle clarre once come nee. 

* Earles. — Harl. 

6 Hyrpon.— Harl. ' softe.— Harl. 



[Part IV.] 

[How Humphrey Brettun takes nioncy from the Priucoss Elizabeth to Richmond ; 
and who are on Richmond's side.] 

rTo BiGEKAM ' abbey, Avliere the English Vrlnce and reaches 


I was. 

4'. parte J ^q porter was an EngKshman, 
well he knew HuMp^rej/ Breitton, 
664 L & ffast to him can he ^ gone. 

Hamphrey knocked att the gate priuilye, 

& these words he spake surelyc, 
" I pray thee, Porter, open the gate 
6GS & receiue me & my^ mules thiee, 

I shall thee giue withouten lett [page 474] 

ready "* gold to thy meede.^ " 

Richmond is. 

He knocks 
at the gate ; 

" I will none of thy gold," the Porter said, 
672 " nor yett, Jlmij^hrey, none of thy ffee ; 
but I will open the gates wyde, 
& receiue thy mules and thee,^ 

" ffor a Cheshire man borne am I, 
676 ffrom the Malpas^ but miles three." 
the porter opened the gates soone, 
& receiued him & the Mules three ; 

the best wine readilyc ^ then 
680 to Umiphrej/ Bretton giueth hee. 

" alas ! " sayd Humphrey, " how shall I doe ? 
for I am stead ^ in a strange countrye ; 

the porter 

is a Cheshire 

and lets him 

' Begeram. — Harl. 

'■* gan he. — P. Read ' gone he can.' — 

* and.— Harl. 

* red. — Harl. 

* Read ' fee.' — Dyce. 

" the and thy mules three. — Harl. 

' A town in Cheshire. — F. 

* radlye. — Harl. 
» stad.— Harl. 



and filiows 

" the Prince of England ' I do not know ; 
684 before I did liim neuer see." 

" I shall thee teach," said the Porter then, 
" the Prince of England to know truly e. 



He may 
know the 
Earl by his 
long pale 

and a wart 
above his 



"loe, where he shooteth att the butts, 
& with him are Lorc?s three ; 

he weareth a gowne of veluett blacke, 
& itt is coted aboue his knee ; 

with long visage & pale ; 

therby the Prince know may yee ; 

" a priuye wart, wi'thouten lett, 

^ a litle aboue the chin ; 
his face h[i]s white, the wart is red, 
C9G therby you ^ may him ken." 


goes to 

now ifrom the Porter is he gone ; 

with him hee tooke the Mules 3 
to Erie Richmand he went anon 
700 where the other Lorc7s bee.* 

and gives 
liim Hessyo's 
her money, 

when ^ he came before the Prince, 

lowlye hee kneeled vpon his knee ; 
he deliue^-ed ^ the le^^e thai Bessye sent, 
704 & soe he did the mules three, 

and her 


kisses the 

[&] a rich i^ing w(th a stone. 

there the prince glad was hee ; 
he tooke the ring att Unmjihreij then, 
708 & kissed itt times 3. 

' Thero is a tag at the end of this word 
in the M.S. like an s.—F. 
2 he hathe.— Harl. 
' full well yee.— Harl. 

* dyd bee. — Harl. 
° And when. — Harl. 
" And delivered hyni. 




HvMjjhrey kneeled still as any stone, 

assuredlye as I tell to thee ^ ; 
Hviijyhreij of the Prince word gatt none, 
712 therfore^ in his hart hee was not merrye. 

HuMp^vey standeth vpp then anon ; 

to the prince these words said hee, 
" why standeth ^ thou soe still in this stead, 
716 & no answer does ■* giue mee ? 

" I am come ffrom the Stanleys bold, of England to make thee, 

& a ffaire Lady to thy ffere,^ 

there is none such in Christentye ; 



" shee is Countesse,*^ a Kings daughter, 
the name of her is ^ Bessye, 

a louelye Lady to looke vpon, 

& well shee can worke by profecye. 

" I may be called a lewd ^ messenger, 
for answer of thee I can gett none ; 
I may sayle hence with a heauy heart ; 
728 what shall I say when I come home ^ ?" 

the prince tooke the hord Lisle, 

& the Erie of Oxford was him by '^ ; 
they hord fferres wold him not beguile ; 
732 to •' councell the goeth all 3. 

when they had theif councell tane, 

to HuMj:>/ire^ Bretton turneth hee, 
" answer, HuiMp/ire^, I can giue none 
736 for '2 the space of weekes 3. 

but does not 
speak to 

who there- 
gets up, 

tells him he 
comes from 
the Stanleys 
to make him 
King and 
^ive him a 

> tell thee.— Harl. 

2 i. e. on that account. —P. 

^ standest. — Ilarl. 

* thou doest. — Harl. 
" fere.— P. 

* a cowntsis. — Harl. 

it is. — Harl. 
lowte. — Harl. 
liowme. — Harl . 
nee. — Harl. 
to a. — Harl. 
not for. — Har\ 


answer is he 
to give 
them ? 

consults his 

and says 
he can give 
no answer 
for three 



He ripa up 
the mules' 



" when 3 weekes are come & gone, 
Then an ansAver I will ' giue thee." 

the mnles into a stable are tane ; 
the saddle skirtts then rippeth hee ; 

[page 4":)] 

takes out the 

therin he ffindeth gold great plentye 

for to wage a companje.^ 
he caused the houshold io make him cheare ; 
744 " in ^ my stead lett him bee." 

and goes to 


to bfty arms. 

Erly in the morning, as soone as itt was day,^ 

With him he tooke the Lords three, 
& straight to paris he tooke the way, 
"48 there armes to make readye.^ 

He asks the 
King of 
France for 
and ships. 

to the K-lng of ffrance wendeth hee,^ 

of men and mony he doth him pray, 
^ that he wold please to Lend him shipps, 
752 & ffor to bring him oner the sea : "^ 

" the Stanleys stout ffor me haue sent, 

'King of England ffor to make mee, 
& if euer I weare the crowne, 
756 well quitt the Kdng of ffrance shalbe." 

The King 


then answereth the "King of ffrance, 

& shortlye answereth,^ "by St. lolin, 
^ no shipps to bring him ouer the seas, 
760 men nor money bringeth he none ! " '■' 

' sliall.— Harl. 

2 Only half the n in the MS.— F. 

' And saith iu.— Harl. 

* Yerlyo on the other mornyng As- 
sonno as yt was brpake of dayn. — Havl. 

* A herotte of armrs thoy road^'n 
made. — Harl. 

^ then wyndoth. — Harl. 
'~' And shippes to brynge hym over 
the soae. — Harl. 

^ swearoth shortlye. — Harl. 
"-" men nor money gettoth ho none, 
nor shippes to brynge hym over tho 
foame. — Harl. 



thus the Prince his answer hath tane. 

both the Prince & Lords gay ' 
to BiGGERAM abbey rydeth hee, 
7G4 wheras^ Hmip/ire?/ Bretton Lay. 

" haue heere 'Kvuphrey a 100 ^ markcs ; 

better rewarded shalt thou bee ; 
comend me to Bessye, that Countesse cleere,- 
768 & yett I did neuer her see, — 

" I trust in god shee shall be nay Queene, 

for her I will trauell the sea. 
comend me to my ffather Stanley, — 
772 my owne mother marryed hath hee, — 

rides back 


gives him 
100 marks. 

and bids him 
tell Bessye 

he will coiiie 
to her : 

" bring him here a loue le^^re, 

& another to litle Bessye ; 
tell her I trust in the Jjord of might 
776 that my Queene shee shalbee. 

" Comend me to S^'r william. Stanley, 

that noble Knight in the west countrye ; 
tell him, about Micchallmasse 
780 I trust in god in England to bee. 

" att Mylford hauen I will come in, 

With all the power that I can bringe ; ■* 
the ffirst towne that I may mn '^ 
784 shalbe the toAvne of shrewsburye. 

" pray Sir william, that noble KnigJit, 

that night that hee ^ wold looke on mce. 
comend me to Sir Gilbert Talbott that is soe wight ; 
788 he lyeth still in the north cuntrye." 

tell Sir 



that about 
he will land 

at Milford 

and take 


and tho English Lordes gayt-. — Hurl 
there as. — Hurl, 
thousand. — Harl. 

* powers I brynge with mo. — Ilarl. 

* niyn. — Harl. 

" nyghto he. — Harl. 



will none of 
gold : 
he is his. 


" I will none of thy gold, Sir Prince, 

nor yett none ' of thy ffee ; 
if euery haire of my head were a man, 

With yon, Sa- Prince, that they shold ^ bee. 


returns to 
Lord Derby, 

thus Uvujyhreij his leaue hath tane, 

& fforth hee sayleth vpon the seas ; 
straight to London can he ryde, 
79G there as the Erie and Bess3"e Lyes. 

who then 



he tooke them either a lettre in hand, 

& bade them reade ^ and see. 
the Erie tooke leaue of Richard the Kimj, 
800 & into the west rydeth hee. 

Bessye at 

& leaueth Bessye att Leicecster, 

& bade her lye there in * priuitye : 
" ffor if K/hy/ RicharcZ knew thee there, 
804 in a ffyer brent must thou bee." 

He sends 

Strange to 


side are 
Sir William 
with 10,000 
men : 

straight to Latham is he gone, 

Where the Lord strange he did ^ Lye, [page 476] 
& sent the Jjord strange to London 
808 to keepe ILing Richard ^ companye. 

then to'' Str william Stanley, wiih'^ 10000 cotes 

in an howers warning readye to bee : 
they were all as red as ** blood, 
812 there, they harts head ^ is sett full hye. 

I wyll non. — Hiu'l. 

thf", sir prynce, slioulde tlioy.- 

looke, rt'ade. — Harl. 

lyo in. — Ilarl. 

Strange dyd. — Harl. 

kcepe Ilichard. — Karl. 

i\o then to, or witli, i7i Ilarl. - 

* were read as any. — Harl. 

Hai'l. ^ Tho Stanley arms (Lancashire and 

Earl of Derby) are, argent, on a bend 
azure, three buc/is' hrculft eabossed or. 
l?eiTy'.s Eiicyc. Herald. The red cutcs 
must have been woni by the Stanley 

-F. followers. — F. 




S/r Gilbert Talbott, 10000 doggs i 
in an howers warning readye to be. 

Sir lolm Sauage, 1500 white lioods,^ 
ffor they will flight & neuer flBee. 

Sir Gilbert 
Talbot, with 
10,00U ; 

Sir John 
Savage, with 

Sir Edward Stanley, 300 men ; 

there were no better in Christentye. 
Rice •'' apthomas, a Ts.iiiijht of wales, 
820 800 ■* spere-men brought hee. 

Sir Edward 




ap Thomas, 

with 800. 

[Part v.] 

[How Richmond lands in England, and marches to Bosworth.] 

S/r William Stanley, att the holt hee lyes, 

& looked ouer his head soe hye ; 
" w/i/ch way standeth the wind ? " ^ he sayes ; 
824 " if there be "^ any man can tell mee." 

Sir William 
Stanley says 

5.' parte ^ 

""" The wind itt standeth south west," 

soe ' sayd a K.night that stood him ^ by. 
" this night, yonder royall prince, 
into England entreth hee." 

he called thai ^ gentleman that stood him by, 
his name was Rowland Warburton, 
he bade him goe to Shrewsbuiye that night, 
832 & bade them lett that prince in come. 

lands ill 
Engcland to- 

lie sends 




to order 


to be 


' dogges. — Harl. A talljot is a kind 
of mastiff. Different Ijranchcs of tlio 
Talbot family liavo a talbot for their 
crest, or 3 IkjiukIs for their arms. — F. 

* Thi- Savage arms are lions. The 
white hoods must have boon worn by the 
retainers. — F. 

' Sir Ryse ap. — Ilarl. 


* cightc thousand. — Harl. 

* Avheri' standeth the wyndo then. 

" is there. — Harl. 
' sec. — Harl. 

* hum in the MS. — F, 
" a.— Harl. 



throws the 
oi'clers into 
the town, 

and the 
gates are 


summons his 
Percy, with 

30,000 men ; 


Bishop of 
Sir William 
Scroope and 

with 20,000 
men each ; 

and Sir 

by that ' Hoyvland came to Shrewsbury e 

the portcullis was letten downe ; 
the called the Prince in fFull great scorne, 
836 & said " in England he shold weare no crowne." 

Howland bethought him of a wile, 
& tyed the writtings to a stone ; 
he threw the writtings ouer the wall, 
840 & bade the baliffes looke them vpon. 

then they opened the gates wj^de,^ 

& mctt the Prince with pi'ocessyon ^ ; 
he wold not abyde in shrewsburye that night, 
844 for 'Kiuij Richrt-nZ heard of his cominge, 

& called his hords of great renowne.'* 
hord ^ Pearcye came to him '^ then, 
& on his knees he kneeled him downe 
848 ^ & sayd, " my leege, I haue 30000 ffighting men." 

the Duke of Norffolke came to the 'King, 

& downe he kneeleth on ^ bis knee ; 
the Ei4e of Surrey came with him, 
852 they were both in companye. 

the Bishopp 'of Durham was not away. 

Sir william Bawmer stood him by, 
the hord scroope ^ & the Erie of Kent 
856 they were botli'^ in companye : 

'^ " & wee haue either 20000 men 

^1 ffor to keepe the crowne with thee." 
the good Sir william Harrington 
860 said they '^ wold fBght & neucr fflee. 

' then that.— Ilarl. 

^ on everio syde. — Harl. 

^ processioning. Sic Icgerim rytlimi 
gratia. — P. procession. — Harl. 

* of rcnowno. — Harl. 

* the Lordp. — Harl. 

" scil. to Kinn; Kichard.— P. 

' saitlie. — Harl. 
" Tipon. — Harl. 

3 Scroope.— Harl. '» all.— Harl. 

" Harl. puts those liaos before lino 
853, and lines 855, 856 after thcni, also 
before lino 853. — F. 
'■^ he.— Harl. 




'King Ricliard made a messenger, 
& send into the west countrye, 

" bidd the Erie of Derbye make him readye 
& bring 20000 men vnto mee, 

The King 

scuds to 

Lord Derby, 
he must 
bring 20,000 

" or the Lore? strangcs ' head I shall him send ; 

for doubtlesse hee ^ shall dye. 
w/thoiit hee come to me soonc,^ 
868 his owne sonne hee shall neue/- sec." 

or Lord 
shall die. 

then another Herald can appcare : 

" to S/r william Stanley tJnd noble I\.niijJii, 
bidd him bring 10000 men, 
872 or to * death he shalbe dight." 

Sir William 

must bring 
10,000, or 

then answered that doughtye 'Knighb, 

& answered the herald ^ w/thout lettinge : 
[" Say, on Bosworthe feilde I wyll hym meetc "^J 
876 On nmnday earlye in the morninge. [page 477] 

Sir William 

" such a breakeffast I him hett '' 
as ncuer subiect did to ^ King-e ! " 


the mcssen2:er is home gone 
880 to tell King Richard this tydand.^ 

defies the 

the King '° together his hands can ding, 

& say[d], " the LonZ Strange •' shall dye ! " 
hee bade, " put him into ^^ the tower, 
884 ffor '^ I will him ncue;' see." 

orders Lord 


to the Tower. 

' Strange. — Harl. 

^ nowo that he. — ILirl. 

* full soniif. — ITarl. 

* to tlu'.^llarl. 

'' spake to llio iieryoUc. — Hiirl. 

* MS. pared away; liiu^ Bupplicd from 
Ilarl.— F. 

' hett, i.e. promise. — P. 

" did knyshte to noc. — Harl. 
" tydinge, sic leqcrim Uythmi gratia. 
— P. tythinge. — Harl. 
'» Then Eiehard.— Harl. 
"MS. Stanley; but Strange, 1. 961, &c. 
— 1'\ SI range. — Harl. 
'-' had putt hym in. — Harl, 
'■' for bure. — Harl. 




now leaue wee Hichard & his hords 

thai were prest all • with pryde, 
& talke wee of the Stanleys bold ^ 

that broii2;ht in the Prince of ^ the other side. 

Eiciimoiid Now is Richmond to Stafford come, 

& S/r william Stanley to litle stone, 
the Prince had Icuer then any gold 
892 Si'r william Stanley to looke vppon. 

sends to Sir 
Stanley at 

a messenger was readye made, 

thai night to stone rydeth hee ; 
Sir william rydeth to Stafford towne, 
896 w*th him a small companye. 

They meet 
at Stafford, 

kisses him. 

when the K.nighi to Stafford came, 
thai Richmond might him see, 
he tooke him in his armes then, 
900 & kissed him times three : 

and Stanley 



*' the welfare of thy body •* comforteth mc more 

then all the gold in christen tye ! ' ' 
then answered thai royall 'Kmighi ; 
904 to the Prince thus speaketh hee : 

he'll make 
him King or 

and Lady 
Bossye shall 
he his wife. 


^ " in England thou sLalt Aveare the crowne, 

or else doubtlesse I will dye. 
a ffaire Lady thou shalt fifind to thy ffere, 

as any " is in christentye, 
a K/»r/s daughter, a countesse clere ; 

yea, shee is both wise & wittye. 

' all full.— Harl. 
2 blood.— Harl. 

' Lroughto the pryncc on.^ — Harl. 
' MS. my.— F. thy.— Harl. thy 
body, sic legerim. — P. 

* Harl. inserts here : 
Remember, man, bothe daye and nyglite, 

whoo nowo doeth the moste for thee. 
— F. 

" is any. — Harl. 



" I must goe to stone, my soueraiginc, 
912 ffor to comfort my men tliis night." 

the Prince tooke him by the hand, 
& sayd, "ffarwell, gentle 'K.nigM ! " ^ 

now is word comen to Sir wiUiam. Stanley 
916 Early on the Sunday ^ morninge, 

that the Erie of Darby, his brother deere, 
had giuen battell to Hichard the Kinge. 

Sir William 
hears that 

Lord Derby- 
has fo\ight 

"that wold I not," said Sir william, 
920 " for all the gold in christentye, 
except I were wrth him there, 
att the Battell ffor to bee.^ " 

then straight to Lichefeild can he ryde 
924 in all the hast thai might bee. 
& when they came to the towne, 
they all cryed " King Heneey ! " 

He hastens 
to Lichfield, 

then straight to Bosworth wold he ryde 
928 in all the hast that might bee. 

when they '^ came to Bosworth ffeild, 

there they ^ mett wi'th a royall companye.^ 

and then 
Bosworth ; 

■ A line is dra-vm here by Percy, as if 
to mark the beginning of Part VI. — F. 
2 vpon Sundayo in the. — Harl. 

^ at that battell mysclfc. — Ilarl. 

' and when he. — llarl. 

* he. — llarl. " arniyc. — lla 



[Part VI.] 

[How Richmond fights and wins the I'attle of Bosworth Field, and marries the 
Princess lilizabeth, Lady Bessy. 

Lord Derby, 

Sir J. 



6" Parte 


Tlie Erie of Darbye he was there, 

& 20000 stoorle hhn by; 
S/r John Savage, his sisters sone, 
he was his nephew of blood, soe nye, 
Lhe had 1500 ffighting men ; 
there was no better in christentye. 


and Bice ap 

Sir william Stanley, that noble knight, 

10000 red Cotes had i hee. 
Sir Rice ap Thomas, he was there 
940 w/th a 1000 2 speres mightye of tree. 

asks Lord 
Derby to let 

lead the van. 

Erie Richmond came to the Erie of Darbye, 

& downe he kneeleth vpon his knee ; 
he sayd,^ " ffather Stanley, I you ^ pray, 
944 the vawward you will ^ giue to me ; 

Lord Derby 

" for I come for my right ; 

flfuU ffaine waged wold I bee." 
" stand vp," hee sayd, " my sonne deere, 
948 thou hast thy mothers blessing by mee ; 

and puts 
Sir W. 
with him. 

" the vanward, sonne, I will thee giue ; 

ffor why, by me thou wilt [ordered be ^], 
Sir William Stanley, my brother deere, [page 478] 

952 in that battell he shalbee ; 

' that day had. — Harl. On the ' red 
cotes,' see 1. 809.— F. 

'^ with ten thowsand. — Harl. 

' Theto is a tag at the end of this word 
in the MS. like an s. — F. 

* lhe.— Harl. 

^ voward thou woiilde. — Harl. 
® MS. pared away.— F. ordered be. — 




S/r loTin Sauage, that liatli no peeve, 

liee shall be a winge to thee ; 
S/r Rice ap Thomas shall breake the ^vray, 

ffor he will fl&ght & neuer fflee ; 
& I my selfe will houer ^ on this hill, 

that ffaire battell ffor to see." 

Savage is to 

lead one 


aiul nice ap 


is to break 




King Richard [houed 2] on the mountaines, 
9fiu & was ware of the banner of the hord ^ Stanley, 
he said, " ffeitch hither the hord strange to me 
ffor doubtlesse hee shall dye this day." 

" to the death, hord, make thee bowne ! 
964 ffor by Mary, that mild mayde,* 

thou shalt dye ffor thy vnckles sake ! 
his name is william stanleye." 

Richard sees 
tlio Stanley 

and bids 
prepare to 

" if I shold dye," sayd the hord Strange, 
968 " as god fforbidd itt soe shold bee ! 
alas ffor my Lady att homo, 

itt shold be long ere shee mee see ! 



laments for 
his wife. 

" but wee shall meete att domesday, 
972 when the great dome itt shalbee." 
he called a gentleman of Lancashire, 
his name was Latham trulye. 

& [a] ring 5 beside his fiingar he tooke, 
976 & cast itt to the ^ gentleman, 

& bade him " bring itt to Lancashire, 
to my Ladye tJiat is att home; 

He sends her 
his ring, 

' hove. — Iliirl. 

' hoved. — llarl. looked mountV high. 
See Piig. 4-11 [of MS.], St. 63. N.B. 
Many of tho follow^? Stanzas are nearly 
the same with those in Pag. 141 [of MS. 

1. 497-548 of Bosworth Feilde, p. 253-5. 
above] q. vide. — P. 

' boulde. — Harl. 

■' mayo. — Dyce. 

' a ryngo.—" Harl. » that.— ILirl. 



that after- 

he may 
his father's 

Sir William 
asks Richard 
to wait till 
the other 

are taken, 

BO that all 
may be 


" att lier table sliee may sitt ; 
9S0 ere shea see lier LorJ, itt may be Longe. 
I liaue no ffoot to scutt or * fflytt, 

I must be ^Martyred ^ vfiih tyrant stronge. 

and tells her, 

if his uncle 

loses, 984 

to take his 
son over the 


" if itt ffortune my vnckle to lose tlie fFeild — 

as god defend itt sliold soc bee ! — 
pray lier to take my eldest Sonne 

& exile liim ouer the sea ; 

" be raay come in another time ; 

by fFeild, firrith,^ tower or towne, 
wreake hee may his ffathers death 

vpon K-ing Jiichard •* that weares the cro-mic." 

a 'Knighi to the King did appeare, 
992 good^ Sir william Harrington ; 

sales, " lett him haue his liife a while 

till wee ^ haue the ffather, the vnckle, & the sonne. 

" wee shall haue them soone on the ffeild, 
996 the ffather, the vnckle, the sonne,^ all 3 ; 
then may you deeme them with jour mouth, 
what Kind of death tJtat they shall dye." 

but a blocke on the ground was cast, 
1000 thervpon the hords head was Layde ; 
an axe ^ ouer his head can stand, 
& out of passyon^ itt was brayd.^*' 

he saith, " there is no other boote 
1004 but that the '^ hord needs must dye." 
Harrington heard itt, & ^^ was ffull woe 
when itt Avoid no better bee : 

' feeto to schunte nor. — Harl. scittt 
is the Laso of scuttle, move bustlingly. 

'^ murdcrfd. — Harl. 

3 fryfrh— Harl. 

■* oil Eichard of England. — Harl. 

* the gude. — Harl. 

" ye. — Harl. 

' the sonu and the uncle. 

* a sawe. — Harl. 

^ fasliion. — Harl. 

>» ? nourished about.— F. 

" thou.— Harl. 

12 harto yt.— Harl. 




lie saith, "our ray breaketh on euery sydc 
1008 wee put our ifolke ^ in ieopardye." 
tlien tliey tooke x]} the Lo/vi on line ; 
'King RichanZ did him neuer see. 

then he ^ blew vp bewgles of brasse, 
1012 the shott ^ of guns were soe ffree 
that [made] many wiues cry ■* alas, 
& many children ^ ffatherlesse. 

bnt his 
line is 

and Richard 
goes to fight. 

Rice ^ ap Thomas w/th the blacke gowne/ 
1016 shortly e he brake ^ the ray : 
with 30000 fighting men 

the Jjord Percy went his way. 

Percy and 
30,000 men 
leave him. 

the Duke of ISTorfolke would haue ffled : 
1020 With 20000 in ^ his companye 
he went vp to ^"^ a wind- mill, 
& stood vpon a hill soe hye, 


there he mett Sir lohn Savage, a valyant ^' K-niyht ; is slain by 

Sir John 

1024 With him a worthy companye : Savage, 

to the death the duke was dight, 

& his Sonne, prisoner taken was hee. ani his son 

' *■ taken. 

then they ^^ horcl dakers began to fflee, 
1028 soe did many ^^ others morc.^'' 

when king RicharcZ that sight did sec, 
[Then his heart '^ was fifuU w]oe : '^ 

Lord Dacres 
and others 

> feilde.— Harl. 

' they.— Harl. 

' schottcs. — Ilarl. 

* mado many wyves to. — Ilarl. 

* niony a childe. — liarl. 
« Sir Kyso.— Ilarl. 

' crowc. — Ilarl. ? his badgc- 

" made lia.sto to brcakc. — Ilarl. 

» of.— Ilarl. 


"» unto.— Harl. 
" royall.— Harl. 
'2 the.— Harl. 

'3 Only half the n in tho MS.— F. 
'* moe. — P. other moe.^ — Harl. 
'^ in liis harto he. — Harl. 
'" Copied in by Percy. The lino is 
nearly pared away in the MS.— F. 




pravs them 

to stay hl3-J 

and die with 


'* I ] rny yon, my nicr, Lc not away, 
ffor like a man ffrce ^ will I dye ! 

ffor I had leuer dye this day, 

the[n] 2 -vv/th the Stanleys taken bee ! " 

[page 479] 

says they 

a 'K.niglit to 'K.'mg Richard can say,^ 
1036 good ^ Str william of harrington, 

he saith, " wee are like all heere 
to the death soone to be done ; — 

can't resist 
the Stanleys, 

Richard had 
better flee. 

" 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 ; 

" jouv horsse is ready att jouv hand, 
1044 another day you may jouv ^ worshipp win, 
22 & to raigne wt'th royaltye, 

& wears jouv *> crowne & be onr K-ing.^' 

But Richard " giuc '^ me my battell axe in my hand, 

swears he'll on a t n i i 

die King 104S & sctt my crowne on ** my head so hye ! 

ffor by him tJuct made both sunn & moone, 

K:ing of England this day I wilP dye ! " 

besides '■? his head the hewed the crowne, 
1052 & dange on him as they were wood ; 
the stroke his Basnett to his head 

vntill his braines came out w/th blood. 

the carry ed him naked vnto ^^ Leicester, 
1056 & buckeled his haire vnder his chin. 
Bessy e mett him with ^^ merry cheere ; 
these were they words shee sayd to him : 

His crown 
is hewed off 

and his 
dashed into 
his head, 

and he is 
carried to 

' here. — Harl. 
2 then.— Harl. 

» Vid. Pag. 442, St. 74 & sequentes 
[of MS. ; p. 'irjG, 1. 585 here].— P. 
' yt was glide. — Harl. 
'' yee mayo. — Harl. ^ the.— Harl. 

' He said, give. — Harl. 

* Sett the crowne of England upon. 

" will I.— Harl. 
'» Bosydc— Harl. 
" into.— Harl. '^ with a.— Harl. 



" liow likest tliou tliey slaying of my Ijicilircn 
twaine ? " ' 
1060 sliee spake these words to liim alo-wdc^ : 
" now are wee wroken vppon tliec lieere ! 
welcome, gentle vnckle, home ! " 

taunts his 

Lord Derby. 

great solace itt was to see, 
10G4 I tell you, masters, w/thout lett, 
Avhen they red rose of Mickle price 
& our Besste^ were mett. 

The Red 
Rose and 
White meet. 

a Bishopp them marryed with, a ringe, 
10G8 they * 2 bloods of hye renowne. 
Bessye sayd, "now may wee sing, 
wee tow bloods are made all one." 

and are 

the Erie of Darbye he was there, 
1072 & S^'r william Stanley a man of might ; 
vpon their heads they sett the crowne 
in presence of many a worthy wight. 

Lord Derby 
and Sir 
crown them. 

then came hee ^ vnder a cloud, 
1076 that sometime in England was ffull high ^ 

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 ''] mayden fFree, 
saue & keepe our comelye ® 
& 9 the poorc cominaltye ! 


our King 
and tl:e 

' tho slcaying of my brethren dore.— 

* alon. — Ilarl. 

^ yoiigo Ik's.sio togeder. — Karl. 

* tlie.— Harl. 

» Sir William Stanley. Scol.812.— F. 

" MS. hight. Read f/it/h, prononnced 
fuc. — Dyco. 
' a.— Harl. 
* queeuo. — Harl. 
" and also.— Harl. 


9ivt iDomtn ffairt*' 

IS lU 

**A VERY imperfect copy of this song," notes Percy, 
Pepys' Merriments, vol. ii. p. 330." 

It is a handful of woman-abusing commonplaces, true enough 
perhaps of such specimens of tlie 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 ffau'e to see too. 
"are women sweete ? " yea, passing [sweets 2] tliey 

be too ; 
most flfaire & sweete to tliem that only loue them ; 
chast & discreet to all saue those that proue them. 

not wise, 

but so witty, 
they beguile 

" 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,^ 
8 that be yon neare soe wise, they will beguile ye. 

not fools, 
but fond, 

and never 
stable ; 

not devils, 

but very 
like them ; 


" are women ffooles ? " not fFooles, but fibndlings 

" can women ffound ^ be fFathfull vnto any ? " 
when snow-white swans doe turne to colour sable, 
then women ffond ^ will both be ffirme & stable. 

" Are women Saints ? " no saints, nor yett no diuells. 
" are women good ? " not good, but nccdfull cuills ; 
soe Angell-like, that diuells I doe not doubt them ; 
16 soe needfFull cuills, that fFew can Hue W('th-out them. 

' a satire on Womon. A very im- 
perfect Copy of this Song is in Pepys 
Merrini'.', vol. 2, p. 330.— P. 

' swoct. — P. 

— F. 

wilyo. — P. 

Throe strokes only for vn in the MS. 

found. — F. 


"Are women proud?" I! passing proud, & praise ^ Proud they 


" are women kind ? " I ! wonderous kind, &- please and kind 

when they 
them, like to be ; 

or soe imperyous,^ no man can endure them, 
20 or soe kind-harted, any may procure them. ffinis. often too 


' praishiffe was first -writton in the hand. — F. ^ an't, if it. — F. 

MS., but the viffc has been crossed out, ^ MSv imperious. — F. 

and an e writton above it by a Liter 

I" I Dreamed my Loue," printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 102, 
follows here in the MS. ]Jcige 480.] 


The author of The Treaty se of Ffjsshynr/e 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- 
portes 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 "Salamou 
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 laboiyous, for the hunter must 
always renne and folowe his houndes : traueyllynge and swetynge full 
sore. He blowyth till his lyppes blyster. And whan he wenytli it 
be an hare, full oft it is an hegge hogge. Thus he chasyth, and wote 
not what. He comyth home at euyn, rajai-beten, pryckyd, and his 
clothes torne, wete-shode, all myry, Some hounde lost, some surbat.^ 
Suche greues and many other hapyth vnto the hunter, whyche, for 
dyspleysaunce of them y* loue it, I dare not reporte. Thus truly me 
semyth that this is not the beste dysporte and game of the sayd foure. 
The dysporte and game of hawkynge is laboryous and noyouse also, 
as me semyth. For often the fawkener leseth his hawkes as the 
hunter his houwdes. Thenne is bis 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 rewardc.^ whan 
he wold haue her for to flee : theune avoII she bathe. Avitli mys- 
fedynge she shall haue the Fronse ^ : the Rye : the Cray : and many 

' A Curious Old Song in praise of nioutli. Sco " Modicyno for tlic Frounce" 

Falconry. — P. in Iicliquice Antiqucc, i. 29i, 297. The 

^ . . surhotcd or riven of their skin. lii/c is a sore in the nostrils, ih. i. 294; 

Topsoll, p. 689, in Ilalliwell. — F. the Cray a disease of the 'fondement,' 

' look. ih. i. 295. ( The Booke of Haxvkyng, aftt r 

* The I'ronso is a sore in a hawk's Prince Edwarde,Ky)ig of Englavdc.^—Y. 


other syknosscs that brynge them to the Sowse.^ Thus by proufF this 
is not the beste dysporte and game of the sayd foure. The dysporte 
and game of fowlynge me semyth moost symple. For in the wynter 
season the fowler spedyth not but in the moost hardest and coldest 
weder : whyche is greuous. For whan he wolde goo to his gynnes 
he maye not for colde. Many a gynne and many a snare he makyth. 
Yet soryly dooth he fare. At morn tyde in the dewe he is weete 
shode unto his taylle. Many other suche I cowde tell : but drede of 
magre ^ makith me for to leue. Thus me semyth that huntynige and 
hawkynge and also fowlynge ben so laborous and greuous that none 
of thepn maye perfourme nor bi very meane that enduce a man to a 
mery spyryte : whyche is cause of his long lyfe acordynge unto y^ 
sayd parable of Salamon : ^ Dowteles then«e folowyth it that it must 
nodes be the dysporte of fysshynge with an angle. For all other 
manere of fysshyng is also laboi'ous and greuous : often makyugc 
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 boke : of whyche he may haue store plentee 
of his owne makynge, as this symple treatysc shall teche hym. So 
thenne his losse is not greuous. and other greyflTes may he not haue, 
sauynge bu.t yf ony fisshe breke away after that he is take on the hoke, 
or elles that he catcbe nought : whyche ben not greuous. For yf he 
fay lie of one he maye not fajdle of a nother, yf he dooth as this 
treatyse techyth, but yf there be uoiight in the water. And yet atte 
the leest he 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 hercth the melodyous armony of fowles. He seeth the yonge 
swanncs : 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 well 
vse the game of anglynge : ho must ryse erly, whiche tliyng is prouffyt- 
able to man in this wyse. That is to wyte : moost to the hccle 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 

' ? doatli. ' Dead as :i fowl :it,' 278). ' To Inipo or scaze greedily upon, 

i.e. !it the stroke of another Lird de- to sv//-c doiuu^ ah;a hauko.' Florio, p. 48, 

seending violently ou it. So explaiudl cd. Kill. Jlaliiwell.— F. 
by Mr. Dyce {Beaumont 4' Fletcher, vii. ^ Tr. vtu'yri; illwilL— F. 


gooclys. For it shall make liym ryclie. As the olde englysshe pro- 
uerbe saytli in this wyse. ^ who soo "woll ryse erly shall be holy 
helthy and zely.' ^ 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 longer to endure. 

Now this is all very well for a quiet man with no devil in him ; 
but Crecy and Agin court 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 ^e hom Faucuns • \>e Foules to quelle, 
For i>e\ comen in-to my croft • And Croppen my Whete. 
(William's Vision of Piers Plowman, Pass. vii. p. 76, 1. 34-5, ed. Skeat.) 

There are many men whom, more or less, Tennyson's " Sailor- 
boy " represents, even in their sports : 

My mother clings about my neck, 

My sisters clamour " stay for shame ! " 
My father raves of death and wreck : 

They are all to blame ; they are all to blame. ] 

God help me ! Save I take my part 

Of danger on the roaring sea, 
A devil rises in my heart. 

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 

' A.-Sax. S(elig, happy, lucky, blessed, prosperous. Bosworth. — F. 


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, ^^^lat matters the chance of a fall, 
when you feel your 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. 

OOIVIE : in their traine, & some in their gaine, some doiight 

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 loued in their mistresse sight ; 

Some loue the chace, & som.e loue the race others in 

hunting the 

of the hare & of the fFearlFull deere ; hare ; 

but the brauest delight is the flEawcon in her ffligh[t], buttiie 


8 when shee stoopes w^th a cauileere. flight beats 


flfor shee will moue iust like a done ; 

when once her game shee doth flBnd, 
shee clipps itt amaine, shee strikes itt a plane, she flies at 

her game 

12 but seemes ^ to outstripp the wind. like the 

wind ; 

shee fflycth att once her niarke lumpc ^ vpon, she soars 

& mounteth the wc[l]kin "* cleere ; 
then right shee stoopes, when the ffalkncr hoe whoopes, 
16 triumphing in her cauileere. 

' their time. — P. Ami bi-iiip; him ii(»ipc, wlicii ho may 

* MS. scenes. — F. Cassin find 

* lie set her on my selfc, a while, to Soliciting his wife. — 0/J/r/lo, Actus Se- 

draw the Moor apart, cundus, Scena Secunda. — F. 

* welkin. — P. 

VOL. III. n B 



and makes 
the clouds 
her quaiTy. 

She stoops, 



In a moments space sliee will better place * 

as tkougli sliee did disdains to carrye ^ ; 
the earth is soe ^ neere, shee mounteth the sphere, 

& maketh the clouds her quarrey,'' 
till the ifawkner quite now hath Lost her sight, 

& her bells no longer can heare ; 
then listening ^ to a starr, he espyes her affarr, 

come stooping with a cauileere. 

and her 

thorn and 
wood to 
meet her 


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,^ through woods, is his way. 

he fforceth not ^ to sweat, though breathles with heat, 

but w^th a resounding Cheare 
he reacheth fforth his throte, & whoopeth fforth his 
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 yeeld ; 

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 

triumphing in her Cauileere. 


' pace, or her place. — P. 

^ tarry. — P. 

8 too.— P. 

< ? MS. qurwey.— P. 

* lessonB or less? query. — P. 

* Lin. 4. perhaps stubhs, i. e. short 

stumps of cut underwood, tho' sfiidds 
signify Posts. See Pag. 407, St. 7 [of 
MS.]— P. 

' doesn't mind : cp. ' no force,' it's no 
matter, of no consequence. — F. 


The hero of this strange piece is obviously James I. The earlier 
verses are, no doubt, prophecies founded on fact — prophecies 
after the event — as indeed is not unfrequently the case v/ith 
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 

mt 2 



successes achieved in the Occident, is to fight that great final 
battle in the valley of Jehoshaphat. 

The news that reached England towards the end of the year 
1620 must have sadly disappointed the poor visionary. This 
once hopeful monarch proved but a traitor to the Good Cause. 
Perhaps he was the one who was to be vanquished — not to 
vanquish — at Armageddon. 

A prince 
from the 
North shall 

called J. S., 

find good 

and couch as 
a lion. 

He calls a 
and at once 
breaks it up. 
roused by 
foreign foes, 
he draws his 

and punishes 




A : Prince out of the north shall come, 

K-ing borne, named babe ; his brest vpon, 

a Lyon rampant strong to see, 

and 1 1 S ^ Icclippedd bee : 

borne in a conntry rude & stonye,^ 

yett hee couragyous, wise, & holy ; 

att best of strengbt, his ffortunes best 

he shall receiue, & tlierin rest, 

coach as a Lyon in the den, 

& lye in peace soe long till men 

shall wonder, & all christendome 

tbinko the time long, both all and some. 

Att Last he calls a Parlaiment, 

& breakes itt straight in discontent ; -^ 

& shortly then shall roused bee 

by enemyes beyond the sea. 

but when in wrath he drawes his sword,* 

woe that the sleeping Lyon stured ! 

£for ere he sheath the same againe, 

he puts his foes to mickle paine. 

[page 481] 

' James Stuart. The I before J. S. may 
be a c : the two letters are often exactly 
alike.— F. 

« Scotland.— F. 

' James's second Pai'liament, 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. 

^ ? referring to the 4000 volunteers 
whom he sent to defend the Palatinate 
in 1G20.— F. 










& vallyant actes he shall then doe, 

great Alexanders ffame outgoe : 

he passeth seas, & fi'ame doth wiun, 

& many princes ioyne vfith him, 

& chuse him ffor their gouernor, 

& crowne him wcstcrne Emperour ; ' 

after a Avhile he shal be-girt 

that cittye ancyent and great 

which, vpon 7 hills scituate, 

till hee her all haue ruinate. 

then shall a iFoe ffrom east appeare, 

the brinkes of one great riuer neere ; 

this Lyon rampant him shall meete ; 

& iff on this side hee shall ffight, 

the day is Lost : but hee shall crosse 

this riuer great, & being past, 

shall in the strenght of his great god, 

into his ffoes discouraging rode, 

causing him thence take his fflight, 

of Easterne Kwi^/s succour to seekee ; 

during which time he is in owne ^ 

of East & west crowned Emperowne. 

then shall the ffoe in ffury burne, 

& ffrom the East in hast return e — 

With aid of K.ings & princes great — 

to the valley of lehosaphatt : 

then shall hee meete the Lyon stronge, 

who in a battcll ffeirce & longe 

shall ffoyle his ffoe. then crucll death 

shall take away liis aged breath. ffinis. 




and being 




Then he 

shall besiege 


meet his 
eastern foe, 

and rout 

But the 
foe shall 

and be 

again, in the 
valley of 
Then the 
shall die. 

' James I. was proclaimed Ly the new 
title of " King of Great Britain, Franco, 
and Ireland," on Oct. 24, 1604; but ou 

his medals lie assumed the title of 
Imperator. — F. 
^ ? ono. — F. 


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 

is loved by i 

but her 

[The first Fitt.] 

IjEHOLD : tlic touchstone of true loue, 

Maudlin, the Merchants daughter of Bristow ^ towne, 
whose ffirme aflfection nought ^ cold moue ! 

this ^ ffauor bearcs the louely browne. 
a gallant youth was dwelling by, 

yvhich long time ^ had borne this Lady great good 
will ; 
shee loued him most ffaithffully, 

but all her ffreinds wi'thstoode itt still. 

' In i//o printed Co]lcct«m of Old 
Ballads, 12'V», vol. 3, p. 201. N. 37.— P. 
In two Fitts. — P. 

- r>risto].^O.B. 

* Ilor.— O.B. 

^ O.B. omits time. — 1' 

3 nothing.— O.B. 


tlie young man now p(??-cciuing well oppose the 

he cold not gett nor winn ^ the fauor of her ffreiuds, 
the fforce of sorrow to expell, 
12 to ^ vew strange countryes hee intends ; Sohe 

_ resolves to 

& now to lake his last ff'arwell go and see 


of his true loue & ^ constant Maudlin, countries, 

With, sweet musicke,^ that did excell, ^""^ , ^. 

' ' serenades his 

16 he playes vnder her windowe then : }°X^ '^^^°^® 

^ J ^ going. 

" farwell," quoth, he, "my owne true Loue ! 

" ffarwell," qiwth he, " the cheefFest tres[ure of my 
Heart] ^ 
Throughc fFortunes *" spite, ihat ffalse did proue, [page 482] 
20 I am. inforcet ffrom thee to pa?'te 

into the Land of Italye ^ : in Italy 

'' _ he'll spend 

there will I waite & weary out my dayes ^ in woe. '"^ days in 
seing my true loue is kept ffrom mee, 
24 I hold my liffe a mortall ffoe. 

therfore, ffaire Bristow towne, now adew ! ^ and forsake 

' _ _ Bristol 

for Padua shalbe my habitation now for Padua. 

although my loue doth Lodge ^° in thee, 
28 to welcome [whom] ^^ alone my heart I yow." 
With trickling ^^ teares this did hee singe ; 

w/th ^3 sighes & sobbs discendinge from his hart full He sighs and 
he said, when hee his hands did winnge, and wrings 

his hands, 

32 " ffarwell, sweet loue, ffor euer-more ! " ai«i bids his 

love fare- 

ffaire Maudline from a window hye ^^'^'i'- 

beholding ^^ her true loue wi'th Musickc where he 

' vnm in the MS. O.B. omits nor ' fair Italy. — O.B. 

winn.—F. « Life.— O.B. 

'■' And. — O.B. " Fair Bristol Town therefore adieu. 

» his fair and.— O.B. —O.B. 

* Musick sweet.— O.B. '» rest.— O.B. 

* MS. pared away: the . . heart read " whom. — O.B. 
hy the help of, or supplied from Old " tiekling.^ — O.B. 
Ballads, whieh omits qno/h he. — F. " O.B. omits with. — F. 

* ? IVIS. pared away. — F. '* See. — O.B. 



She dares not 
answer him, 

but weeps 
all night, 


and TOWS 
she'll give 
np her 
and follow 
her love. 

She gets up 

and finds a 



waiting to 
see her 

him into 
a parlour, 







but not a word sliee durst ' replye, 

fi'earing her parents angry naoode. 
in teares sliee spends tliis ^ woefull night, 

wishing her^ (though naked) w/th her ffaitlifuU 
shee blames her ffriends & ffortunes spight 

that wrought their ^ Loue such Luckless end ; 
& in her hart shee made a vowe, 

cleane to fForsake her country & her kinsfolkes ^ all, 
& ffor to ffollow her true loue 

to bide what ^ chance thai might befFall. 
the night is gone & the day is come, 

& in the morning verry early shee did rise ; 
shee getts her downe to the ^ Lower roome, 

where sundry seamen shee espyes, 
A gallant Masfe/- amongst them all, — 

the master of a gallant * shipp was hee, — 
which there stood ^ waiting in the hall 

to speake w;'th her ffather, if itt might bee. 
shee kindly takes him by the hand ; 

"good Si'r," she said,"^ "wold yee speake with any 
heere ? " 
q?ioth hee, " fFaire mayd, therfore I '^ stand." 

" then, gentle Sir, I pray you come ^^ neere 
Into a pleasant parlour by." 

With ^^ hand in hand shee brings the seaman all alone ; 
sighing to him most pyteouslye, 

shee thus to him did make her moane ; 

' did.— O.B. 

2 spent that.— O.B. 

3 herself.— O.B. The ' naked ' alludes 
to the early custom of sleeping naked, 
occasionally mentioned in romances. The 
authority of early illuminated MSS. is 
also cited for it ; but as kings and queens 
in bed are almost always drawn with 
tlieir crowns on, and lying flat on their 
backs, one does not feel compelled to 
accept the illuminators' authority for the 

nakedness any more than the crowns, 
— F. * her.— O.B. 

* ? MS. kinifolkes.— F. To forsake 
lior Country and Kindred. — O.B. 

" abide all.— O.B. ' into a.— O.B. 

* a great and goodly. — O.B. 
s AVho there was.— O.B. 

'" said she.— O.B. 
" and therefore I do. — O.B. 
'- I pray draw. — O.B. 
" O.B. omits tvUk. — F. 










shee falls vpon her tender ^ knee, 

"good S('r," sliee said, "now i>itty yea a womans 
& proue a ffaithffull freiud to mee, 

that I to you my greeffe may show ! " 
" sith you repose jour trust," hee sayd, 

" to me that am vnkno^vne,3 & eke a stranger heere, 
be you assured, proper "* maid, 

most ffaithfull still I will appeare." 
" I haue a brother," then quoth, shee, 

" whom as my liffe I ^ ffauor tenderlye. 
In Padua, alas ! is hee ; 

fFull sicke, god wott, & like to dye ; 
& ^ ffaine I wold my brother see, 

but that my father will not yeeld to let me goe. 
tlierfore, good Sir, bee good^ to mee, 

& vnto me this ffauor show, 
some shippboyes garments bring to me, 

that I disguised may goe away ffrom hence ^ vn- 
& vnto sea He goe wtth thee 

if thus much ffreindshipp may ^ be showne." 
" ffaire mayd," q-woth hee, " take heere my hand ; 

I will ffulfill eche thing that you now doe '"^ desire, 
& sett ^^ you saffe in that same Land, 

& in tliat place where ^^ you require ! " 
shee gaue him '^ then a tender kisse, 

& saith, "yo?(r servant, gallant Master, will I bee,'** 
& proue yoitr ffaith-full ffreind ffor this, 

sweet Master, fforgett ''' not mee ! " 

falls on her 
knees to 
jjraj's him 

to hear her 

and then 
tells him 
that her 
brother is 
(lying in 

and her 
father won't 
let her go to 

" Bring 
me some 
clot hes, 

and let mc 
go with 

The seaman 

promises to 
do all she 

She kisses 
hiiu and says 

she'll be liis 

* bended.— O.B. 

* (said she) pity a Woman's Woe. — 

' In me unknown. — O.B. 
■■ most liciiutcous. — O.B. 

* I love and.— O.B. 

« Full.— O.B. ' kind.— O.B. 

* O.B. omits aim ji from hence. — F. 

" Favour might. — O.B. 

'" O.B. omits now doc F. 

" sec.— O.B. 
i^" tile Pkee that.— O.B, 
" to him.— O.B. 

" said, Youi- Servant, Master, I will 
Lo.— O.B. 
'* then forget.— O.B. 



He brings 
her the boy's 
She puts 
them on, 

and goes 
with him 
before her 

" Tliis youth 
is going 

The mother, 
not knowing 

gives her 20 
crowns to 
tend home 
news of 



[page 483] 

Her mother 
comes in, 

saying their 1 00 
daughter is 

"That vile 
wretch has 
enticed her : 

we shaU find 

him in 






this done, as they had both decreede,' 

soone after, earlye before the ^ breake of day, 
he brings her garments then w^'th speed, 

wherin shee doth her-selfe ' array. 
& ere her ffather did arise, 

shee meetes her Master walkeing ^ in the hall ; 
shee did attend on him likwise 

enen vntill ^ her ffather did him call, 
bnt ere ^ the Marchant made an end 

Of all the matter to the M.aster he cold saye,'^ 
his wiffe came weeping in with speed, 

saying, " our daughter is gone away ! " 
the marchant, much ® amazed in minde, 

" yonder vile wretch inticed away my child ^ ! " 
but well I ^^ wott I shall him ffind 

att Padua or in Italy e." ^^ 
With thai bespake the 'M.aster braue : 

" worshippffull M.aster,^'^ thither goes this pretty 
youth, ^^ 
& any thing thai you wold haue,^"* 

he will perfforme itt,'^ & write the truth." 
" sweete youth," qwoth shee,^*' " if itt be soe, 

beare me a le^^re to the Enghsh Marchants ^^ there, 
& gold on thee I will bestoAve ; 

my daughters welfare I doe ffeare." 
her mother takes '^ her by the hand : 

"faire youth," q«oth shee, " if ^^ thou dost my 
daughter see, 
leitt me therof soone ^° vnderstand, 

& there is 20 crowncs ffor thee." 

* agreed.^ — O.B. 

2 after that by.— O.B. 

^ Therein herself she did. — O.B. 

* as he walked.— O.B. 
'^ Until— O.B. 

« But here.— O.B. 

' Of those his weighty Matters all 
that Day.— O.B. 
" then.- O.B. 
■^ intie'd my Child away. — O.B. 

'« I well.— O.B. 

" In Italy at Padna. — 

'2 Merchant.— O.B. 

" tliis Yoxith.- O.B. 

" crave. — O.B.' 

'^ perform. — O.B. 

"= he.— O.B. 

" the English.— O.B. 

'■' Youtli, if o'er. — O.B 

2» soon thereof.- O.B. 


'8 took.— O.B. 


thus, through the daughters strange disgniise, 

the mother kncAV not when shee spake vnto licr 
chikl ; 
& ^ after her master straight shee hyes, and Maudlin 

1120 taking her leauo w/th countenance myld. 

thus to the sea fFaire ^ Maudlin is gone goes to sea 

with her 

With her gentle master, god send them a merry master. 
A^dnd ! 
where ^ wee a while must leaue them alone,'* 
124 till you the second fitt^ doe ffind. 

[The Second Fitt.] 

r " welcome, sweet Maudlin, ffrom the sea Maudlin and 

I _ _ her master 

J where bitter stormes & tempests doe rise ^ ! ^^^a m 
'' I the pleasant bankes of Italye 

128 l^ wee ^ may behold wi'th morttall eyes." 

thankes, gentle laaster," then qtioth.^ shee. She thanks 

"^a ffaithffull ffreind in all sorrowes hast thou ''^ kindness, 
beene ! 
if ffortune once doe smile on mee, 
1.32 my thankfFuU hart shall then ^^ be seene. 
blest be the hand that ffeeds my loue, 

blest be the place wheras his person '^ doth abydc ! 
nor '3 tryall will I sticke to proue and says 

•' _ ^ she'll 

1.3G wherby my good will '^ may be tryde. 

now will I walke with ioyffull hart walk about 

1 T ir T 1 . till she tiiids 

to vew the towne wheras my darling '•' doth remamc, 
& seeke him out in euery pa H 
140 vntill I doe his sight attaine." ^'^ her love. 

' Then. — O.B. * There is a tag like an s at tlic end of 

^ sweet. — O.B. this word — F. 

' ? MS. when. The n (or rr) is '" 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.— O.B. " No.— O.B. 

5 Part.— 0.15. " true Love.— O.B, 

^ arise. — O.B. " wherein he. — O.B. 

' You.— O.B. " said.— O.B. '" Until his Sight I do oUain.— O.B. 



The Master 
says he'll 

see her safe 
to Padua. 

At last she 



and finds 
her lover 
to death 
unless he'll 
turn Papist. 


walks under 
the prison 

and hears 
her lover 
bid farewell 
to England, 









*' & I," q?fotli hee, "will not fforsate 

Sweete Maudlin in her sorrowes vp & downe ; 
in wealtli & woe, thy part He take, 

& bring thee saffe to Padua towne." 
& after manj weary stepps 

In Padua the arriued safFely ^ att the Last : 
for verry ioy her harte itt leapes, 

shee thinkes not on her pe?ills ^ past, 
condemned hee was to dye, alas, 

except he wold flProm his religion turne ; 
but rather then hee wold goe to ^ masse, 

in flB.ery fflames he vowed to burne. 
now doth Maudhn weepe and waile, 

her ioy changed to weeping,** sorrow, greeffe & 
care ; 
but nothing can ^ her plaints preuaile, 

ffor death alone must be his share, 
shee walked vnder the prison walls 

where her true louedoth lye& languish" in distresse; 
most ^ woeflPallye for ffood hee calls 

when hungar did his hart oppresse ; 
he sighes, & sobbs, & makes great moane ; 

" farwell," he said, " sweete England, novv^ for eu- 
ermore ! 
& all my flfreinds tliat haue me knowne 

In Bristow towne with health ^ and store ! 
but most of all, ffarwell," q^oth hee, 

" my owne true loue,'*^ sweet Mnudlin, Avhom I left 
behind ! 
for neuer more I shall see thee.'^ 

woe to thy ffather Most vnkind ! 

O.B. omits saffcly. — F. 
Sorrows.- — O.B. 
would to. — O.B. 
O.B. omits weeping. — F. 
For nothing could. — O.B. 
Love did languish. — O.B. 

' Then.— O.B. 

* Fiirewcl, Swcot-hcart, he cry'd. — 

» Wealth.— O.B. 
'" O.B. omits true louc. — F. 
" thou wilt me see. — O.B. 









how well were I if tliou were ' here, 

with, thy ffairehantls to close vp both these^ wi'etched 
eyes ! 
my torments easye wold appeare ; 

My soule w/th ioy shall ^ scale the skyes." [page 484] 
when 'Maudlin hard her louers moane, 

her eyes with teares, her hart with sorrow, feild.'' 
to speake with him noe meanes was knowne,^ 

such greenous doorae on him did passe.^ 
then cast shee of ^ her Ladds attyre ; 

a maydens weede vpon her backe shee^ seemlye sett ; 
to ^ the iudges house shee did enquire, 

& there shee did a service gett. 
shee did her duty there soe well, 

& eke soe prudently shee did her-selfe '^ behaue, 
with her in Loue her Master fFell, 

his servants ffavor he doth craue : 
"Mauf?^i7«," qttoth hee, "my harts delight, 

to whome my hart in affectyon is tyed,'^ 
breed not my death through thy despite ! 

a ifaithfFull ffreind I wilbe ^^ tryed ; 
grant me thy loue, ffaire mayd," qtioth. hee, 

" & att my hands '^ desire what tho[u] canst d[e]- 
& I will grant itt vnto thee, 

wherby thy creditt may arrise." 
"I haue [a] '•'' brother, Sir," shee sayd, 

" fFor his religion is now '** condcmpncd to dye ; 
in Lothesome prison is he '^ Laid, 

opprest with care '** and misery. 


but cannot 
speak to her 

She dresses 
again as a 

takes service 
in the 

and he falls 
in love with 

and promises 
her what- 
ever she asks 

She asks for 
the life of 
her brother, 
in prison foV 
his belief. 

' I wore if thou wert. — O.B. 
^ close my. — O.B. 
' would.— O.B. 

* Heart soon filled was. — O.B. 
s found.— O.B. 

• did on him pass. — O.B. 
' she put off.— O.B. 

" Her Miiidcn- weeds upon her. 
» At.— O.B. 


'" so well herself she did. — O.B. 
" my Soul is so inelin'd. — O.B. 
'2 thou shalt me.— O.B. 
'' And tlien.— O.B. 
'< ? MS. diuise.— F. 
" The a is written above the line in a 
later liand.— F. 

'" O.B. omits JiouK — F. 

" he is.— O.B. '« Grief.— O.B. 



" He must 
recant or 
die ! " 

" Then let 
an English 
friar I 
know be 
sent to 

The jiidce 
dresses up 
the seaman 
as a fi-iar, 
and sends 
him with a 
letter to her 

Her lover 
charges her 

to leave 
Italy, as 
death awaits 
her there. 








grant you ^ my brothers [life]," ^ slice sayd, 

*' to you my lifFe ^ & liking I will giue." 
" thai may not be," q?totli liee, " faire mayd ; 

"except lie turne, he cannott Hue." 
" an English fFryer there is," shee said, 

" of learning great, & of a passing pure ■* Hffe ; 
lett him to my brother be sent, 

& hee will soone ifinish'^ the strifie." 
her 'Master granting ^ her request, 

the Marriner in ffryers weed ^ shee did array, 
& to her loue that lay distrest 

shee doth a letter straight ** conuay. 
when he had read those gentle lines, 

his heauy hart was rauished with ^ ioye ; 
where now shee was,^*^ ffull well hee knew. 

the flFryer 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 sliold straight depart the Land ; 
" here is no place for her," hee sayd, 

" but death & danger of her harmless ^' liffe ; 
& testing death, '2 I was betrayd, 

but ^^ ffearfull fl&ames must end our strifTc, 
for ere I will my faith deny, 

& swearo to '"* ffollow my selfc damned Anii- 


I will '^ yeeld my body for to dye, 
& '^ liue in lieauen with the liyest." 

' mc— O.B. 

2 Life.— O.B. 

^ And now to you my Love. — O.B. 

■* passing pure of. — O.B. 

* finish soon. — O.B. 
" granted. — O.B. 

7 Woods.— O.B. 

* did a Letter soon. — O.B. 

" His Heart was ravisliVl with plea- 
sant. — O.B. 

'« is.— O.B. 

" ]>at woful Death and Danger of her. 

'■•i Professing Truth.— O.B. 

'3 And.— O.B. 

>^ MS. to to.— F. 

"' And swoar myself to follow damned 
Atheist.— O.B. 

'« I'll.— O.B. 

" To.— O.B. 


"0 Sir," the gcntlo £fryer sayd, Tiio seaman 

. urRcs him 

" for jour sweet lone reccant, & sane your "wicked to recant. 
liffe." 1 
" a ^Yoeffull match," quoth, hoc, " is made, H'^ refuses. 

228 where chr[i]st is left to Avin "^ a wiife." 

when shee had wrought ■* all meanes shee might 

to saue her fFreind, & that shee saw itt ■* wold not bee, 
then of the iudge shee claimed her right Then 

232 to [dye] ^ the death as well as hee. resolves to 

■, T (• ^^ die with 

when no perswassyon wold ° preuaile, him, 

nor change her mind in any thing that shee had ^ 
shee was w/th him condemned to dye, 
236 and for them both one Fire was made,^ anri both 

& ^ arme in arme most loyfiFullye stake with 

these loners twaine vnto the ffyer they "^ did goe. 
the marriner most ffaith-flfullye 
240 was likwise '^ pav-tner of their woe : 

but when the Judges vnderstood But the 

the ffaith-ffuli ffreindshipp that^'^ did in them re- '^^^''^^^ 
they saued their lines, & afterward pardon tiicm 

and M-nd 

244 to England sent them home '^ againe. tii"" i>ome 

" , ° to Ejigland. 

Now was their sorrow turned to Toy, 

And fTaithffull louers had now ^* their harts desire ; [page 4S5] 
their paines soc well they did imploy, 
248 god '^ granted that they did require ; 

& when they were '^ to England come. They pet 

& in merry Bristowe arriued att the Last, liristoi! 

' Consent thereto, antl end the strife. was made. — O.B, 

— O.B. " Yea.— O.B. 

■^ gain.— O.B. '" O.B. omits fJiet/.—F. 

3 u.s'd.— O.B. " Two strokes for the first i.—F. 

* To save his Life yot all.— O.B. '- O.B. omits fhat.—F. 

* dye.— O.B. '' back.— O.B. 
« could.— O.B. " have.— O.B. 

' thing she.— O.B. '* The d lias a tag to it.— F. 

» MS. comdemned to dye. one Fire '" did. — O.B. 




father dead, 
her mother 
joyfiil to see 

and they 
are married 
at once, 
the seaman 
giving her 




great loy there was to all & some 

thai lieard tlie clanger tliey had past, 
lier fFather, hee was dead, god wott, 

& eke her mother was ioyfull of ^ her sight ; 
their wishes shee denyed not, 

but weded them with harts delight, 
her gentle Master shee ^ desired 

to be her ffather, & att Church to giue her then. 
itt was ffulffilled as shee required, 

vnto ^ the ioy of all good men. ffinis. 

' at.— O.B. 

2 he.— O.B. 

3 To.— O.B. 


Come pretty tunntom 

A LOVER praying for pity, would fain know the reason of his idoFs 
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. 


Lome : pretty wanton, tell me why 

thou canst not loue as well as I ? 

sett thee downne, sett thee downe, sett thee downe, 

and tlioM shalt see 
Avhy thus vnkind thou art to me. 

My dearest sweet, be not soe Coy, 
for thou alone art all my Toy. 
sett thee downe &c. 
thai itt is hye time to pittye mee. 

O gentle loue ! be not yett gone ; 
leaue me not heere distrest alone ! 
sett thee downe &c. 
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, 
16 lett but thy gentle eai^es attend. 

If thou doe stopp those gentle cares, 
Looke but vjjon these cruell teares 
w/u'ch doe fforce me still to crye 
20 ' pittye me, sweet, or else I dye ! ' ffillis. 


Tell me why 
you won't 
love me. 

You alone 
are my joy. 

Go not yet ; 

look on me 
once more 1 

Pity mo, or 


lee i£J a ffoolle:^ 

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," " The Shepherd's Kesolution," 

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 

JilEE : is a fFoole thai baselje dallyes 

where eclie peasant mates wrth him. 
shall I haunt the thronged valleys, 

haninge noble hills to climbe ? 
no ! no ! tliose clowncs be scared wi'th ffrownes 

shall neuer my affectyon ^ gayne ! 
& snch as you, ffond fFooles, adew, 

tliai ^ seeke to captiue me in vaine ! 

Give me one 
daren't gaze 

who needs 
effort to win. 



I doe scorne to vow a dutye 

where eche lustfull Ladd may woe. 
giue me those whose seemlye * bewtye, 

bussards dare not gazt ^ vnto. 
shee itt is affords my blisse 

ffor whome I will reffuse no payne ; 
& such as you, fond fooles, adew, 

thai seeke to captiue mc in vaine ! 


' Printed in the Reliques, iii. 253, ^ estccme. — Bel. 

( 1st ed.), with the title of " The Aspiring * sun-like. — liel. 

Shepherd." — i\ ' gaze. — P. 

' Ye.—L\l. 


iCuIIa : tulla: 

A LOVER here, parting from the object of his affections, would lull 
to sleep all doubts of his truth and constancy. He is going 
away ; but let her put a calm unruffled faith in him. The 
verses are but commonplace. 

JjY : constraint if I depart, — 

sing lullabee, — 
I leaue w/th [thee] behind, my constant hart, 
placed w/th thine, there lett itt rest 
till itt by death be disposest, 

sing lulla lullabee ! lone, Hue loyall till I dye. 

If forced to 

I leave my 
heart with 


doe not any wayes distrust — 

sing lullabye — 
that I shall proue inconstant or vniust.^ 
though banishment a while I ti^y, 
yett shall affectyon neuer dye. 

[sing lulla &c. (a line pared aivay here)'\ 

Never doubt 



K by absence I be fforcet — 

sing lullabee — 
a litle while to be deuorcet 
ffrom thcc whose brest can testifyc 
where my subiects hart doth Tiye, 

Lulla &c. 

[page 480] 


absent from 

' One Btrokc too many in tho MS. — F. 
c c 2 


I crave only constancye is all I craue 

to me. 

thy . 1 11 1 

constancy 20 Sing luliabee 

peiformed by tliee, my wisli I liaue ; 
If I to thee vnconstant proue, 
lett death, my liffe fFrom earth remoue. 
24 LuUa &c. 



91 louei* off ^tiU : ' 

Here a lover asserts and proclaims his independence. He has 
loved, and been rejected ; and here he makes up his mind to 
bear his rejection well. He gives the lady up. Let who will, 
win her ; he will not. 

A LOUER of late was I, I was lately 

. in love 

fFor Cupid wold haue itt see, 
the boy that hath neuer an eye, 

as euery man doth know. 
I sighed, and sobbed, and cryed alas 
fifor her that langht & called me asse, ^& called me with a girl, 

and she 
assee, called me an 


& called me asse .'. for her that &c.^ 


Then knew not I what to doe 

when I see itt was ^ vaine 
a lady soe coy to wooe, 

& ■* gaue me the asse soe plaine. 
yett would [I] her asse that I should bee,* 
soe shee would helpc & beare with mee, **& beare &c. 

soe shoe &c.^ 

If she'd have 
had nifi, I'd 
like to have 
been her ass. 

And I were as faine ^ as shee, 
16 & shee were as kind® as I, 

what payre cold haue mad[e] ^ as wee 

If we could 
I'd have 
loved her. 

' Printed in tlie licliques, iii. 176 
(1st ed.).— F. 

^-■^ Omitted in Bel.—¥. 
^ saw it was all in. — licl, 
* Who.— Bel. 

' Yet would I her asse frcelvo boc- 
Bel. ^ 

«-" Omitted in Bd.—F. 
' An' I were as faire. — JRel. 
' Or slieo were as fond. — Rd. 
' made. — P. 



soe prettye a sumpathye ? 
I was as kind ' as shee was ffaire, 
20 but for all this wee cold not paire ; ^ we cold &c. 
wee cold not paire but fFor all &c.^ 

But as she 
won't have 

■why, let her 
scorn away. 
I'm myself 

Paire w*tli ber that will, ffor mee ! 

with ber I will neuer paire 
24 thai cuninglj can be coy, 

for being a litle fi'aire. 
the Asse lie leaue to ber disdane, 
& now I am, my selfe againe. ^ my selfe &c. 

& BOW I am my selfe againe.^ ffinis. 


• (ond.— Bel. 

'-2 Omitted in Eel.—F. 

3-3 Omitted in Eel.—F. 

[" Panders come away" printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, y. 104, folloivs 
here in the MS. p. 486-7.] 


6rtat or f routin 

Here again a lover protests bis independence. He will not be 
derided by anybody, however great she may be. He will act 
like a rational beincf. 

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 ^ not dispaire ! 

ere to-morrow lie prouide mee 

one as great,^ 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 


And yett strongly will I proue her 
whome I meane to haue indeede. 

if shee constant proue, lie loue her ; 
& if iFalse, lie not prococde. 

ought from mee, that may constraine ' 

my mind & reason to be Lwaine ! 

But before 
taking her, 
I'll prove 

Eead lie. — Djce. 
good. — P. 

' Away from mo ! what may constrain. 
Query. — P. Ouglit = out, interj.—V. 



No one 
should stand 

Any pirl 
can be 
matched by 
some o.her. 


]Man by reason shold be guided, 
& not loue where bees disdaind ; 

If that once he be deryded, 
others loue rnay be obtained. 

hold you not one mayd soe rare ; 

theres none that Hues without compare. 


\_Ttvo verses of "J. Dainty DucJce," printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, 
p. 108, follow here ; and the next leaf of the MS., contamiwj the 
beginning of " The Spanish Lady,'^ has been torn out.^ 


Prof. Child, in his English and Scottish Ballads, prints his copy 
of this ballad " from the Garland of Good Will, as reprinted by 
the Percy Society, xxx. 125. Other copies, slightly different, in 
A Collection of Old Ballads, ii. 191, and in Percy's, ii. 

"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 ^ are maintained to be still in possession of the famil}^, 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.^ See the Times newspaper of April 30 and jNLiy 1, 
1846 (the latter article cited in Notes and Queries, ix. 573), and 

' Percy heads this "Fragniewt of the of his dosecHclant, Captain Birch. lUing- 

Spanish Lady." — F. In the printed Col- worth's Topoynt-phical account of Scamp- 

lection of Old BaUads 12";" Vol. 2. pag. ton, with anecdotes of tJie family of Bolles. 

192. — P. That portrait is now in the possession of 

^ The necklace is still extant in the Captain Bircli's successor, Thomas Bos- 
possession of a menilior of my family, vilo Bosvile, lisq., of llavensfiold Park, 
and in the house whence I write (Cold- Yorkshire, my brother, and may be seen 
rey, Hants). Charles Lee, in 27<£ 2'i»efs, by any one. C\vAY\cs^P6,ih. supra. Dr. 
May I, 1846. — F. Rimbault has reprinted Mr. Lee's letter 

' The portrait is still in the possession in his Musical Ulusl rat ions, p. 23-4. — F. 


the Quarterly Revieiv, Sept. 1846, Art. iii. The literary merits 
of the ballad are also considered iu the Edinburgh Revieiu of 
April, 1846. 

" Shenstone has essayed, in his Moral Tale of Love andlionour, 
to bring out ' the Spanish Ladye and her Knif/ht 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. Eimbault 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 Popidar 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 Roxhurghe 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. 

TJ>e Spanish Ladys Love. 

Will you hear a Spanish Lady, 
• how she woo'd an English Man ; 

Garments gay as rich may be, 

Ledeckt ' with jewels, had she on ; 
Of a comely countenance 

and grace was she ; 
Both by birth and Parentage 

of high degree. 

As his prisoner there he kept her, 

in his hands her life did lye ; 
CupicVs Bands did tye them faster, 

by the liking of an Eye : 

' Deck'd.— O.B. 


In his courteous company 

■was all her joy : 
To favoiir 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,' 

full woe is mo, 
let me still sustain this kind 


Gallant captain, take some pitty 

on a woman in distress, 
Leare 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 ^ with thee. 

How should'st thou, fair Lady, love me, 

whom thou know'st thy Country hate,' 
Thy fair words make * me suspect thee : 

Serpents lye where flowers grow. 
AH the harm I think on thee, 

most courteous Knight, 
God grant upon my Head the same 

may fully light * ; 

Blessed bo the time and season 
that thou ^ came on Spanish ground ; 

If our flPoes you may '^ be termed, 

gentle ffoes wee haue you fibund ; You've won 

° •' my city and 

With our cittye ^ you liaue woon our harts echo one ; Ji'■';'■^'^"0: 

•' •' Taki> back 

then to jouY Country beare away thai ^ is jouv owne." ^^itii you 

' most mild.— O.B. • you.— O.B. 

* Remains. — O.B. ' Ifyou may our Foes. — Eox. andO.B. 
« Country's Foe.— O.B. « City.— O.B. 

* speech makes. — O.B. " what.— O.B. 

* light.— O.B. 



" Nay, Lady, 
stay in 
you'll fincl 
plenty of 

" Rest you still, most gallant Ladye ! 

rest you still, & weepe noe more ! 
of fFaire Louers there is ' plenty ; 

Spaine dotli yeelde a^ wonderous store." 
" Spanyards ffraught -vvitli ielousye wee often ^ ffind, 
but Englishmen through all the world are counted 

No. I 
love you 
aloue ; 

let me serve 
you night 
and day. 



" Leaue me not vnto a Spanyard, 

you alone inioy ** my hart ; 
I am lonely, young, and tender ; 

lone likwise is ■'' my desert, 
still to serue ^ thee day & night, my mind is prest ; 
the wifie of euery Englishman is counted blest." 

"As a 
soldier I 
can't take 

Then I'll be 
your page. 


" Itt wold be a shame, fFaire Ladye, 

ffor to beare a woman hence ; 
English souldiers neuer carry 

any such without offence." 
" I will quickly e change my selfe, if itt be soe, 
& like a page He ffollow thee whersoere ^ Thou goe." 

" I've no 
money to 
keep you 

My jewels 
and money 
are yours. 



" I haue neither gold nor siluer 

to maintaine thee in this case, 
& to trauell is great charges, 

as 3'ou know, in euery place." 
" My chaines and lewells euery one shalbe thy owne, 
& eke 500'.' ^ in gold that Lyes vnknowne." 

" The sea is 
full of 

" On the seas are many dangers; 
many stormes doe there ari-ise, 

■ you have. — O.B. 

* you.— O.B. 

s oft do.— O.B. 

* Thou alone enjoy'st. — O.B. 

^ is likewise. — O.B. 

« save.— O.B. 

' Where-e'er.— O.B. 

* Ten thousand Pounds.- 




which. Avilbe to Ladyes di^eadffull, 
32 & fforce teares ffrom watterye eyes." 
" well in worth I will endure extremitj'e,^ 
for I cold find my ^ hart to lose my liff'e for thee." 

" ciirteous Ladye, leaue this ffancye.^ 
36 here comes all that bieakes * 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 thai liue in Spaine. 

" how happy is that woman 

that enioyes soe true a ffreind ! 
many dayes of ioy god send you ! * 
44 of my suite He ^ make an end. 

vpon ^ my knees I pajxlon craue for this * offence 
w/u"ch loue & true affectyon did ffirst comiuence. 




" comend me to thy Louely ladye ; 

bears to her a ^ Chaine of gold 
& ^"^ these braceletts ffor a token, 

greeuing that I was soe bold. 
all my ie wells in Like sort take ^' w^'th thee ; 
these ^^ are flitting ffor thy wiffe, & ^^ not fibr mee. 

" I will spend my dayes in prayer ; 

loue & all her '^ Lawes deffye ; 
in a nunery wdll I ''^ shrowd me, 

ffar ffrom other '^ companye ; 
but ere my prayers haue an end, be sure of this, 
to pray ffor thee & ffor thy Loue I will uott niisse. 

I would lose 
my life for 

" Cease your 
offers, Lady, 

I have a 
wife in 

and will bo 
true to her.' 


she ! 

I end my 


Give your 
lady my 

and jewels. 

I will seek 
refuge in 

and pray for 
you and 
your love. 

' Well in Troth I shall endure Ex- 
treamly. — 0.15. 
■' in.— O.B. 
' Folly.— O.B. 

• Lrcods.— O.B. 

* Many happy Days God lend her. — 

" I.— O.B. 

' On.— O.B. 
« my.— O.B. 
'■> this.— O.B. 
'» With.— O.B. 
' ' Take thou.— O.B. 
'- For they.— O.B. 
'3 But.— O.B. 
'» I will.— O.B. 




" Thus flarwell, most gallant captaine, 
60 & ffarwell ^ my harts content ! 
count not Spanish Ladyes wanton 
though to thee my loue ^ was bent. 
All joy to loy & true prosperitye be still ^ with thee ! " 

64 "the Like fFall euer to'* thy share, most fFaire Ladye ! " 

• Farewel too.— O.B. » Ecmain.— O.B. 

2 Mind.— O.B. * fall unto.— O.B. 



^^ ^^lutirfU) Bnrttcin : ' 

This ballad is on an event of considerable historical importance, 

on one, if not the first, of the causes that led to the war between 

James IV. of Scotland and Henry VIII. of England, and which 

ended in the death of James at Flodden Field. Henry's motive 

in desiring to have Andrew Barton and his ships captured cannot 

be put down to the cause to which the prejudiced John Lesley, 

Bishop of Koss, attributes his interference in the Low Countries 

{Historie of Scotland, a. b. 1436-1561, Bannatyne Club, 1830, 

p. 83). 

"Here is to be considered and weile noted, the first niotione 
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 half 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,^ and after a preliminary sail in her by 
the King — 

' 111 the printed CoUectwn of Old ing ; yet a few stanzas may l)o bettci- 

Ballads 1727, Vol. I. p. 159, N. xx. given from the other.— P. 
Very different from the printed balbid : - James was a gri'at shiiilmiMcr : see 

but containing sonic things there want- Mr. Gairdner's Preface to his Letters and 


" wes schortlie thaireftir send furth agane to the seas with 
sundre vailyeant gentill men into her ag-anis the Holanderis, 
quha had takiuand spollyeit divers Scotis ships, and crewallyhad 
murdrest and cassin ourburd the merchauntis and passingeris 
being thairintill ; bet 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^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 tliese 
Richard III. and Henry VII., vol. ii. volumes. 


Sir Edward Howard. After encountering a great deal of foul 
weather, Sir Thomas came up with tlie 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 Kiver 
Thames (Aug. 2, loll). 

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 Surr}^ 
past furth at the King of Inglandis command, with certane of his 
best schippis ; and the said Andro being in his vayage sayling 
towart Scotland, haveand onelie bot one schipe and ane barke, 
thay sett apoun at the Downis, and at the first entre did make 
signe imto 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 Londoun, and keipit 
thair as presonaris in the bischop of York hous, and eftir wes 
send hame in Scotland. Quhen that the knalege herof come to 
the King, he send incontynent ane harald to the Kinge of Yng- 
land with lettres requiring dress for the slauchter of Andro 
Bartane, with the schippis to be randerit agane, utherwayis it 
myclit be ane occasioun to break the leage antl peace contractit 
betuix thame.' To the quhilk it wes ansuerit be the King of 
Ligland, that the slauchter being ane pirat, as he allegit, suld 
be na break to the peace ; yit nochttheles he suld cans com- 
missionaris meit upoun the bordoiwis, ([^ihair thay suld treat 
npoun that and all uther enormities betuix the tua realmes." — 
Ilistorie of Scotland, p. 82-83. 

Accordingly, says Lesley, p. 87, in A. n. 1513 

' ScG tlie rcmonstranco sliortly ab- out rirs as to James's repeated complaints 

stracted,antlroferred to, in Prof. Jlrewcr's to the Kinf? of Denmark about Barton's 

Calendar, feuqj. Henry VIII. ; also tlio slaughter, &e. — F. 

VOL. ni. D D 



"The commissioners of baith the realmes, as wes appoiiitit 
be Doctor West, meit on the bordouris in the moneth of Junij, 
qiihair the wrangs done unto Scotland mony wayis, speciallie of 
the sUxuchter 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 liad 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, 


properly speaking-, the first ship in the English nav}-. Jjefure 
this period, when the prince wanted a fleet, he had no other 
expedient but hiring ships from the merchants.' Hume.'" 

The present ballad was printed by Percy in his Reliques, 
vol. ii. p. 180, with some deficiencies (as he calls them), supplied 
from a black-letter copy, in the Pepys collection, of the " 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 Andreiu Barton, a Pirate and Rover on the 
Seas. The Professor says : 

" This copy of Sir Andreiu Barton .is to be found in Old 
Ballads (1723) vol. i. 159, Eitson's Ancient Songs ii. 204, 
Moore's Pictorial Book of Ancient Ballad Poetry, p. 256, and 
Early Naval Ballads of England, Percy Society, vol. ii. p. 4, 
with only exceedingly trifling variations. We have followed the 
last, where the ballad is given from a black-letter copy in the 
British Museum, 'printed by and for W. 0., and sold by the 
booksellers.' "— F. 

[Part I.] 

As : itt Leffell in M[i]dsunier time 

when burds singe sweetlye on eucry tree, 
oiu^ noble K('//r/, Henery the 8".',^ To Henry 

4 oner the riuer of Thames past hec. 

' For the ul)Ovc tliree simple and natu- Scot. Ballads, \\\. 56). The roniaiiiiiig 

ral lines, Percy actually substituted in four lines of Percy's first stanza, given 

his lieliqws the four following, from the without any of his inverted commas to 

printed copy in the Popys collection: mark them as altered from his MS., are: 

When Flora with her fragrant flowers King Henrye rode to take the ayre, 
Eedeckt the earth so trim and gaye. Over the river of Thames past hee ; 

And Neptune with his daintye showers '\^^lf■n 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- ^'"'""■ 

ducfiou to this Eallad, "We would fain After this, it may Le well to eai-ry the 

Ijelieve that nothing except a defect in collation I'ight through, though it in- 

tho manuscript could liave reconciled the volves waste of time, los.s of monej-, and 

Kishop to adopting the four lines with vexation of spirit. — F. 

which the ballad now begins" {Evgl.and 

D D 2 



out riding, 
came SO 

liec was no sooner oner tlie riiier, 
downe in a fforrest to take the ayre, 

but 80 merchants of London cittyo 

came kneeling before 'King Henery there ; 

and com- 
plain that 
they daren't 
sail on the 

for fear of a 
pirate who 
robs them. 

a proud 


" O yee are welcome, rich merchants, 

[Good saylors, welcome unto me^ ! "] 
they swore ^ by the rood the were saylers good, [page 49i] 
12 but rich merchants they cold not bee ; 

" to ffrance nor fflanders dare ^ we nott passe, 
nor Burdeaux ■* voyage wee dare not ffare,^ 
& ail ifor a fifalse robber *" that lyes on the seas, 
16 & robb ^ vs of our merchants ware." 

'King Henert was stout, & he turned him abovit,* 
& swore by the Lord that was mickle of might, 
" I thought he had not beene in the world throughout,^ 
20 that durst haue wrought ^^ England such vnright." 
but euer they ^' sighed, and said — alas ! — 

vnto '^ King Harry this answere ^^ aguine ^* 
" he is a proud Scott that will '^ robb vs all ^"^ 
24 if wee were 20 shipps ^^ and hee but one.'^ " 

Heury asks 

his Lords, 
" who'll 
fetch that 
traitor to 

The King looket ouer his left shoulder, 

amongst his Lords & Barrens soe ffree '^ 
" haue I neuer hord ^^ in all my realme 
28 will ffeitch yond traitor vnto mee ? " 

> From the Bdiqucs. 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. 

■- MS. pared away, but read by Percy. 
— F. 

' dare we pass. — P. and Eel. 

■* & to Bourdeaux. — P. 

* dare we fare. — P. and ElI. 

* a rover. — Rcl. 

" s added by P.— F. Who robbs.— i?c^. 

* frownd, and turned him rounde. — 

" Ed. omits throughout. — F. 

'" us.— P. 

" Tlie merchants. — Ed. 

•- And to.— P. 

'^ thus answered. — P. 

^* And tluis they did theiro answer 
frame. — Eel. 

'■^ would.— P. 

'" tliat robbes on the seas. — Eel. 

" AVere we 20 ships.— P. 

'* AndSir Andrewo Barton ishi.s name. 

'" And an angryc looke then looked 
hee. — Eel. 

2" a Lord.— P. 




"yes, fJiat dare I ! " saycs my Lort? Chareles Howard,' "i,"says 
neere to the wheras ^ liee did stand ^ ; Howard, 

"If that jour gro,ce wiin giue me leaue, 
my selfe wilbe the only man." 

" ^ thou shalt haue GOO ^ men," saith our ^ing, 

" & chuse them out of my realme soe fFree ; 
besids Marriners and boyes,'^ 
36 to guide ® the great shipp on the sea." 

" He goe speake "With S/r Andrew," sais Charles, my 
Lore? 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. ^ " 

" I'll bring 
you Sir An- 
drew Barton 

and his 



the flBrst of all my hord did call,^° 

a noble gunner hee was one ' ' ; 
this man was 60 '^ yeeres and ten, 

& Peeter '^ Simon was his name. 
" Peeter," sais hee. " I must sayle to the sea 

to seeke out an enemy e ; god be my speed ! i'* " 
before all others I haue chosen thee ; 

of a lOO'l guncrs thoust be my head.'^ " 

chooses an 
old gunner, 

Peter Simon , 

' lord Howard sayes. — Eel. 

■■' where. — P. 

' Yea, that dare I with heart and 
hand. — Bel. 

•* it please your Grace to. — P.O., P., 
and Bel. 

* This stanza Percy alters to : 
Thou art but yong ; the king replyed : 

Yond Scott hath numbred nuuiye a 
" Trust me, my liege, He make him quail, 

Or before my prince I will never 
Then bowemcn and gunners thou shalt 

And chuse th(»mover my realme so free ; 
Eosidcs good mariners, and shipp-boyes, 

To guide tlio great shipp on the sea. 

—Bel. ii. 181. 

6 a hundred.— P.C., P. 
' good sailors and ship boys. — P.O., P. 
* a, ccL ed. — P. 
® appear. — P. 

'" The first man, that Lord Howard 
chose.— iPc^. 

" the ablest gunner in all the Eealm. 
— P.O., P. Was the ablest gunner in 
all tlie rea'me. — Bel. 

'^ three-score. — P. Though ho was 
threescore. — Bel. 
'' Good Vetcr.— Bel. 
'* Peter, sayd he, I must to the sea, 
To bring home a traytor live or dead. 

'* to be the Head.— P. to be head.— 



who can 
shoot close 
to his niai'k. 

Then he 
chooses a 



who can hit 
witliin a 
breadth ; 

and to sea 
he goes. 

He soon 
a ship, 

"my Lore?," sais liee, "if you ^ Lane clioscn nice 

of a 100'! giinners to be the head, 
hange me att ^ yo?tr maine-mast tree 
52 if I misse my marke past 3 pence bread. -^ " 
The next of all my Jjord he did call,* 

a noble bowman heo Avas one '^ ; 
In yorekeshire was this ^ gentleman borne, 
5G & william Horsley was his name. 

" Horsley," sayes ^ hee, " I must sayle to the sea ^ 

to seeke out an enemye ; god be my speede ^ I 
before all others I haue chosen thee ; 

of a 100 bowemen thoust be my head.'° " 
" My Lore?," sais hee, " if you ^^ haue chosen mee 

of a 100'! bowemen to be they head,^^ 
hang me att joiir mainemast tree '^ 

if I misse my marke past 12"! ^^ bread." 

Wi'th pikes, and gunnes, & bowemen bold, 
this '^ ISToble Howard is gone to the sea 
on the day before Midsummer euen,'" 
68 & out att ''^ Thames mouth sayled they.'^ 
They had not sayled dayes 3 '^ 

vpon their Journey ^° they ^^ tooke in hand, 
but there they ^^ mett with a Noble shipp, 
72 & stoutely made itt both stay ^^ & stand. 



' If yon, my lord.—Iiel. 

- Then hung me np on. — Rd. 

^ i.e. breadth. — P. marke one shilling 
Lread'th. — licL 

* My lord then chose a Loweman rare. 

^ A bowman who had gained fame. — 
P. Whoso active hands had gained fame ! 
From the pr. copy. — lid. 

^ he was a. — Bd. 

' A letter blotted out before the a in 
the MS.— F. snyd.—Iiel. 

" must with speede. — Ed. 

" Go seeke a traytor on the sea. — liel. 
'" And now of a hundred bowemen 
To be the licad I have c-hoscn thoe. 
—Rd. to be 1]ic luY/d.-P. 

" If you, quoth hee. — Rd. 

'^ to be head. — Rd. 

'^ On your maine-mast He hanged bee. 

" A shilling. — P. If I miss twelve- 
score one penny bread'th. — Rel. 

'* The— Rd. 

'° With a valyant heart and a pleasant 
cheare. — ReL 

" Out at.— Rel. 

'8 he.— Rel. 

'" and days he scant had sayled three. 

-" the Voyage. — P. and Rd. 

2' he.—Rd. 

" hc.—Rel. 

-^ itt sUxy.-Rel. 





"thou must tell me thy name," sais Charlcf, my • anda?ksit3 
Lord Haward, 

" or who thou art, or fFrora whence thoa came,^ 
yea, &^ where thy clwellhig is, 

to whom & where thy shipp does belong.* " 
" My name," sayes hee, " is Henery Hunt,^ 

wiih a pure ^ hart & a penitent mind ; 
I and my shipp they doe '' belong 

vnto the 'New castle * that stands vpon tine." 

who he is. 

" Henry 

of New- 

" Now thou must tell me,^ Harry Hunt, [page 402] 

as thou hast sayled by day & ^^ by night, 
hast thou not heard of a stout robber ^^ ? 
84 men calls ^^ him S/r Andrew Bartton, Knight." 
but ^3 euer he sighed, & sayd, " alas ! 

'* ffull well, my ^^ Lorf?, I know tluit wight ! 
he robd mo of my merchants ware, 
88 & I was his prisoner but yesternight. 

and Andrew 

" as I was sayling vppon the sea, 

& ^'^ Burdeaux voyage as I did ''^ ffai'C, 
he Clasped me to his Ai'chborde ^* 
92 & robd me of all my merchants ware ; 

robbed me 
last night." 

' MS. ny.— F. 
^ come. — P. 
^ and shewe me. — Eel. 
* Wherto thy Ship belongs & whom. 
— P. And wliither Loiiud, and whence 
thou came. — lid. 

^ is Henryo Ilunt, quoth hoe. — Bel. 
" poor, heavy. — P. heavye . . carefuU. 

' do Loth. — P. and Bel. 
8 To the Newcastle.— i?c/. 
" Hast thou not heard, now. — Bel. 
'» or.— P. and Bel. 

" Of a Scottish rover on the seas. — 
'■' ciiU.— Bel. 
'^ Tlian.— ^e^. 

'^ With a grieved mind, and well away ! 
But over-well I knowe tliat wight, 
I was his prisoner vesterday. — Bel. 

'^ IMS. ny.— F. ' 

'" A.— Bel. 

" voyage for to. — Bel. 

'8 ship, or side of a ship : see 1. 278, 
" oucr tlie hatcli-bord cast into the sea." 
A.-S. earc-bord, Ark's-board, tlio ark. 
" l>a?t earcc-hord heold heofona frea," 
the Lord of Heaven held the ark. 
Cu'dmon, p. 84, 1. 26. ed. Thorpe. See 
also Genesis cf- E.vodus, 1. 576: 

Soxc hundred ger noo was hold 

Quan he dode him in 4o arche-wold. 
and Mr. Morris's note, p. 123. — F. 




& I am a man both poore ^ & bai'e,^ 

& eiieiy man will liaue his owne ^ of me, 

& I am bound towards London to ffai-e/ 
to complain e to my Prince Henerye.-^ " 


'• Show me 
Barton , 
and I'll give 
you Is. for 
every penny 
you've lo=t. " 

Hunt tries 
to di'^suade 
him from 



" tJiat shall not need," sais my hord Haward *• ; 

if thou canst lett me this robber ^ see, 
ffor euery peny he hath taken ® thee ffroe, 

thou shalt be rewarded a shilling," q-woth hee.^ 
" Now god flfore-fend," sales Henery Hunt,^" 

" my hord, you shold worke ^^ soe ffarr amisse ! 
god keepe you out of thai Traitors hands ! 

for you wott flFall litle ^^ what a man liee is. 

" hee is brasse w/'thin, & Steele without, 

& beanes hee beares in ^^ his Topcastle '■* stronge ; 
^^ his shipp hath ordinance cleane round about ; 
108 besids, my Lon7, hee is verry well mand ; 
he hath a pinnace is ''' deerlye dight, 

8aini Andrews crosse, that ^^ is his guide ; 
his pinnace beares '^ 9 score men & more,'^ 
and 30 guns, jjo besids 15 ^'' camions on euery side.^^ 

who has a 
ned pinnace 

' There is a tag at the end like an s in 
the MS.— F. 

■- And raickle debts, God wot, I owe. 

« his own.— P., P.C, and Ed. 

* And I am nowc to London bonnde. 

' Of our gracious King to beg a boon. 
— P., P.Candi^e^. 

* You shall not need, lord Howard 
sayes. — Rel. 

' Lett me but once that robber. — Eel. 

* penny tane. — Eel. 

" It shall be doubled shillings three. 
'" the merchnnt sayes. — Eel. 
" That you shold seek.— Eel. 
'2 little you wot.— P. Full litle yo 

wott.— 7?c/. 

'^ beams. — P. With beames on. — Eel. 
The MS. has beanes or beaues again in 
1. 116, 208, 220.— F. 

'^ Top-castles. Ledgings surrounding 
the mast-head. Halliwell. — F. 

'^ And thirtye pieces of ordinance 
He carries on each side alonge. — 

With 1 8 pieces of ordinance 
He carries on each side along. Pr. 

'" And ho hath a pinnace. — Eel. 

" \it.— Ed. 

'8 beareth.— P. and Ed. 

'" Eel. omits ^' moe. — F. 

■"> And fifteen.— P. and Eel. 

'-' on each side. — P. and Eel. 





" if you were 20 ^ sliippes, & he bnt one, 

either in charke-bord ^ or in hall,^ 
he wold ouercome joa ■* eucrje one, 

& if ^ his beanes they doe downe flail." 
" this is cold comfort," sais my Lord Ha ward,'' 

" to Wellcome a stranger thus to ^ the sea ; 
He ^ bring him & his shipp to shore, 

or else into ^ Scottland hee shall carry e mee." 


he'll beat 
or Barton 
shall him. 



" then you must gett a noble gunner, my Juord, 

thai can sett well w/th his eye 
& sinke his pinnace into '° the sea, 

& soone then ouercome will hee bee.^' 
& when that you haue done this,'^ 

if you chance Sir Andrew for to bord,*^ 
lett no man to his Topcastle goe ; 

& I will giue you a glasse, my Lordj^"* 

Hunt advises 
him first to 

and then 
board him, 
avoiding the 

" & then you need to fferae ^^ no Scott, 

whether you sayle by day or by night ; 
& to-morrow by 7 of the clocke, By 7 next 

'' day he shall 

132 you shall meete with. Sir Andrew Bartton, K.ninht. n'^R* 

•^ . '' Barton, 

And seyen 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, 

Wliether you sayle by day or night ; 
And to-morrowe, I swearo, by nine of the 

Yo\i shall see Sir Androwc Barton 

The Second Paut. 

The merchant sett my lorde a glasse 

8oe well apparent in his sigjit. 
And on the morrowe, by nine of the clocke, 

He shewd him Sir Andrewe Barton 
His hatchboi'do it was ' gilt ' with gold, 

Soe decrly dight it dazzled the ee, 
Nowe by my faith, lord llowardo says, 

This is a gallant sight to see. 
—lid. ii. 185-6. '■' feare.— F. 

* Were you 20.— P. and Bel. 
'' ? same as archebord, 1. 91. — F. 
' I sweare by kirke, and bower, and 

hall.— Eel. 

* orecome them. — Bel. 

* If once. — Bel. 

* Bel. omits Howard. — F. 
' stranger on. — Bd. 
8 Yett 1\q.—BcI. 
s Ot to.— Bd. 

'» in.— Bd. 

" he'll Ijo. — P. Or else he ne'er ore- 
come will be. — Bd. 

'- thing [added by P.] 

" And if you chance his shipp to borde, 
This counsel I must givo withall. 

" To strive to let his beames downe 
fall. — Bd. Percy's next two stanzas, 
altered seemingly from the printed copy, 
take in the next three stanzas of the 
Folio : 




but he must 
lend Hunt 
six guns. 


I was his prisoner but yester niglit, 

& he hath taken mee sworne ^ ; " quoth, hee, 
" I trust my L[ord] god will me fForgiue 
136 & if thai oath then ^ broken bee. 

"you must lend me sixe peeces, my 'Lord,'" quoth hee, 

" into my shipp to sayle the sea, 
& to-morrow by 9 of the clocke 

jotcr honour againe then will I see.^ " 
And the hache-bord where S/r Andrew Lay, 

is bached with gold deerlye dight : 
" now by my filiith," sais Charles, my LonZ Haward, 

" then yonder Scott is a worthye wight ! 



orders his 
flags to be 
taken in, 
and a white 
wand put 

They sail by 
taking no 
notice of 




2'! parte < 

[Part II.] 

" Take in yowr ancyents & jottr standards,'' 

yea that no man shall ^ them see, 
& put me fforth a white willow wand, 
148 (_ as Merchants vse to ^ sayle the sea." 

But they stirred neither top nor mast, 

but S/r Andrew they passed by.'' 
" whatt English are yonder," said S/r Andrew,^ 
152 " that can so litle curtesye ? 

^ " I hauo 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. 

' made me swear. — P. 
^ now. — P. 

* Again your hon^ I will see. — P. 
■• ancyents, standards eke. — Rcl. 

* [insert] now. — P. So close that no 
man may. — Bel. 

« that.— i?c/. 

' Stoutly they past Sir Andrew hy. 

' he sayd. — Bel. 

® Now by the roode, three yeares and 

I have been admirall over the sea ; 
And never an English nor Portingall 
Without my leave can passe this 
Then called he forth his stout pin- 
nace ; 
" Fetch back yond pedlars nowe 
to mee ; 
I sweare by the masse, yon English 
Shall all hang at my niaine-mast 
tree."— 7?^'/. ii. ISfi. 



But now yonder pedlers, they are past, 

Av/u'ch is no litle greffe to me : [page 493] 

fFeicli them backe," sayes S/r Andrew Bartton, 
160 "they shall all hang att my maine-mast tree." 

w/th thai they pinnace itt shott of, 

thai my Lore? Haward might itt well ken,^ 
itt strokes downe my Lords fibremast,^ 
164 & killed 14 of my ~Lord his' men. 

" come hither, Simon ! " sayes my Lore? Haward,'* 

" looke thai thy words be true thou sayd ^ ; 
He hang thee att my maine-mast tree ^ 
168 if thou misse thy marke past 12') bread. '^ " 

Simon Avas old, but his hart itt ^ was bold, 

hee tooke downe a peece, & layd itt ffull lowe ^ ; 
he put in chaine yeards 9,''^ 
172 besids^' other great shott lesse and more.'^ 
w/th thai hee lett his gun shott goe '^ ; 

soe well hee settled itt w/th his eye,''* 
the ffirst sight thai S/r Andrew sawe, 
176 hee see '•'' his pinnace sunke '** in the sea. 

when '^ hee saw his pinace sunke, 

Lord ! in his hart hee was not well '^ : 
" cutt '^ my ropes ! itt is time to be gon ! 
180 He goe ffeitch ^° yond ^' pedlers backe my selfe ^^ ! " 

and ho ilo- 
claros lio'U 
hang tliom, 

and sends 
out his 
pinnace to 
take tliem. 

But old 
aims low, 

and with hig 
chain shot 

sinks the 

Barton sails 
to fetch 

> well it ken.— P. Full well Lord 
Howard might it ken. — lid. 

■ For it strake downe his fore-mast 
tree. — IM. 

^ of his. — Rel. 

* Eel. omits Howard. — F. 

* word doe stand in stead. — Bel. 

^ For at my maine-mast thou shalt 
hang. — Rd. 

' twelve score one penny brmd.— 
P.C., P. one shilling bread'th. — liel. 

8 Ilel. omits itt.—Y. 

" His ordinance ho laid right lowe. 
— Bii. 'Aim low' is the regular rule. 
— F. 

'» full 9 yards long.— P. and Ud. 

" with.— /&/. 

'- moo. — P. and Bel. 

'•' And he lett goe his great guanos 
shott. — Bel. 

'^ ee.—Bel. 

'^ saw. — P. He sawe. — Bel. 

'" MS. sumke. — F. sunke i'. — 7?^/. 

" and when. — Bel. 

"* Lord, how his heart with rage did 
swell. — Jid. 

''■• No we cutt. — Bel. 

2» Ho ictch.—Bd. 

-' MS. yomd.— F. 

''- mys(>l. — P. and Bel. 



Old Simon's 

puts iu 
phot, and 
kills 60 of 

Barton too, 

and kills 80 
more men. 


■\vlien my Jjord Haward ' saw Sir Andrew loose, 

lord ! in Hs liart that liee ^ was ffaine : 
" strike on yo?(r drummes, spread out yo»r ancycnts ! ^ 
184 sound out yo?a' trumpetts ■* ! sound out amaine ! " 

" ffiglit on, my men ! " sais S/r Andrew Bartton ^ ; 

"weate, Lowsoeuer this geere will sway, 
itt is my honl Adm[i]rall of England 
188 is come to seeke mee on tlie sea." 

^ Simon had a sonne, w/th 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.*' 




7 Harry Hunt came in att the other syde, 

& att Sir Andrew hee shott then, 
he droue downe his flPormost tree, 

& killed 80 ^ more of Sir Andirwes men. 
" I haue done a good tui'ne," sayes Harry Hunt, 

" Sir Andrew is not our Isjivgs ffreind ; 
he hoped to haue vndone me yesternight, 

but I hope I haue quitt him well in the end." 

" Euer alas ! " sayd Sir Andrew Barton,^ 

" what shold a man either ^^ thinke or say ? 
yonder ffalse theeffe is my strongest Enemye, 
204 who was my prisoner but yesterday. 

' Bel. omits Howard.- — F. 
^ how he. — P. Within his heart. 

^ your Ancients spread. — P. 

Nowe spread your aneyents, strike up 

drummes. — Bel. 
*' Sound all your trumpetts. — Bel. 
* Sir Andrew says. — P. and Bef. 
""'* Simon had a sonne, who shott riglit 
That did Sir Andrcwe mickle scare ; 
In att his decko he gave a shott, 
Killed threescore of his men of 
Bel. ii. 188, (altered from printed copy. 

' Of the next stanza and a half Percy 
makes one, taking two lines from the 
Polio, and the rest (altered) from the 
printed copy : 
Then Henrye Hunt with rigour hott 

Came bravely on the other side, 
Soor.e he drove downe his fore-mast tree, 

And killed fourscore men beside. 
Nowe, out alas ! Sir Andrew cryed, 

What nuiy a man now thinke, or say? 
Yonder merchant theefe, that pierceth 

He was my prisoner yesterday. 

** tifty. — P.C., P. foiu'scoro men be- 
side. — Bel. 

'•> &•: Andr sayd.— P. '" now.— P. 








come hither to me, thou Gourden ' good, 

& be thou 2 readye att my call, 
& I will giue thee 300'.'3 

if thou wilt lett my bcanes * downe ffall." 

^ With that hee swarned ^ the mainc-mast tree, 

soe did he itt ^ with might and maine : 
HoRSELEY^ W(th a bearing 5 arrow 

stroke the Gourden ^'^ through the braine. 
And he ffell into ^^ the haches againe, 

& sore of this wound that he ^^ did bleed, 
then word went throug Sir Andrews men, 

that they Gourden ^-^ hee was dead. 

"come hither to me, Iames Hambliton,'* — 

thou art my sisters sonne, I haue no more,''^- 
I will giue [thee] GOO'.' ^^ 

if thou will lett my beanes downe ffall. '^ " 
With /7iat hee swarned the mainc-mast tree, 

soe did hee itt w/tli might and maine ^^ : 
Horseley with an- other ^^ broad Arrow 

strake the yeaman -"^ through the braine. 

find offers 

.300/. to 
climb the 
mast and let 
tlie beams 

He climbs 

but Horseley 
sboots bim 
through the 

Barton then 
offers his 
nci)liew (iOO/. 
to climb up. 

He climbs, 

but Ilorsoloy 
shoots him 

' Gordon. — P. and Eel. 
'^ That aye wast.— 7?e^. 
' I will give thee three hundred 
markes. — liel. 
■* beams. — P. 

* For the next four lines, Percy, 
without notice, takes (and alters) the 
printed copy : 

Lord Howard hee then calld in haste, 
" Horseley see thou be true in stead; 

For thou shalt at the maine-mast hang. 
If thou misse twelvescore one penny 
bread'tli.— i?e;. ii. 188. 

* swarmed, i.e. climbed, a word still 
used in Sliropsliire [? all over England. 
— F.] in tills sense. — P. Then Gordon 
swarvd. — Rcl. MS. may be swarucd. — F. 

' lie swarved it. — Eel. 
8 But Horseley.— 7?e/. 
" Seeyl(/rt»ji/e/^cj-c.,p. 98,1. 601. The 
iearwY/ arrow was a broad one, 1.223 below. 

I suspect the word means only well- 
feathered for far shooting, like a ' good 
carrying cartridge.' — F. 

'» Gordon.— P. and Eel. 

" downe to. — Eel. 

'- sore his deadlye wounde. — Eel. 

" Gordon.— P. How that the Gordon. 

'* Hamilton.— P. Hanibilton.— /iW. 

'* mo. — P. my only sisters sonne. — 

'" thee six himdred po;iwds. — P. 

" wilt to my Top-castle go. Printed 
If thou wilt let my bcames downe fall, 

Six hundred noliles thou hast wonne. 

"* He swarved it with nimble art. — 

'" But Horseley with a. — Ed. 

'■"' yt'oman. — P. Pierced tlie Hambil- 
ton thorough the heart. — Ed. 



calls for his 
armour ; 

climb to the 



He puts on 
his armour. 





^ that ^ liee ffell downe to the haclies againe ^ : 

sore of his wound that * hee did bleed, 
itt is verry true, as the welchman sayd, 

couetousness getts no gaine.'^ 
hut when hee saw his sisters sonne ^ slaine, 

hord ! in his heart hee was not weU. 
" goe fFeitch me downe '^ mj armour of proue,^ 

ffor I will to the topcastle my-selfe.^ 

" goe '*' ffeitch me downe my armour of prooife, [pageioi] 

for itt is guilded '^ w/th gold soe cleere. 
god be With my brother, lohn of Bartton ! 

amongst ^^ the Portingalls hee did itt weare.'^ " 
but when hee had his '^ armour of prooffe, 

^^ & on his body hee had itt on, 
euery man that looked att him 

sayd, " gunn nor arrow hee neede feare none ! " 

" come hither, Horsley ! " sayes my hord Haward,'*' 
" & looke ^'' yowr shaft that itt goe right ; 

shoot a good shoote in the time '^ of need, 

& ffor thy shooting '^ thoust be made a 'Knitjht.'" 

" He doe my best," sayes 2*' Horslay then, 
" jour honor shall see befibre I goe ^^ ; 

' I'or the next six lines the Bellques 
have : 
And downe he fell upon the deck, 

That with his blood did strcanie 
amaino : 
Then every Scott cryed, "Well-away! 

Alas a comely e youth is slaine ! 
All woe-tifgone was Sir Andrew then, 

With griefe and rage his he;irt did 
swell.— F. 

» And.— P. 

» MS. agaimo.— E. * then.— P. 

* Covetousness brings nothing home. 
Ray: ed. Bohn, p. 81. — F. 

" nephew. — P. 

' forth. — AW. " proof. — P. and Jicl. 

" top-mast mysel. — P. topcastle niy- 

'» MS. pared away.— F. 
'■ gilt.— P. That gilded is.— Rd. 
'- Against. — Bel. 
" ware. — P. hee it ware. — licl. 
' ' on this. — Eel. 

'^ Percy has a bit of his own for the 
next three lines : 

He was a gallant sight to see. 
Ah ! ncre didst thou meet with living 

My decre brother, could cope with 

thee.—jRel. ii. 190. 

'" my lord. — Bel. 

'• looke to.— Bel. 

'* in time. — Bel. 

'" it.— P. it thou shalt.~7iW. 

"" quoth. — Bel. 

-' sec, with might and m;iinc. — Bel. 






if I shold be hanged att yo?tr mainemast, ' 
I haiie in my shipp but arrowes tow.^ " 

3 but att Sir Andrew liee sliott tlien ; 

hee made sure •* to hitt bis markc ; 
vnder the spole ^ of his right arme 

hee smote S/r Andrew quite throw the hart, 
yett ffrom the tree hee wold not start, 

but hee chnged to itt w/th might & maine. 
vnder the coller then of his lacke,^ 

he stroke Sir Andrew thorrow the braiae. 

" ffight on my men," sayes Sir Andrew Bartton,^ 

" I am * hurt, but I am ^ not slaine ; 
He lay mee ^'^ downe & bleed a- while, 

& then lie rise & ffight againe.'^ 
ffight on my men," sayes Sir Andrew Bartton,'^ 

" these English doggs they bite soe lowe ; •' 
'^ ffight on ffiar Scottland & Saint Andrew 

till '^ you heare my whistle bio we ! " 

but Avhen the cold not heare his whistle blow, 

sayes Harry Hunt, " He lay ray head 
you may bord yonder noble shipp, my LorcZ, 
268 for I know Sir Andrew hee is dead." ^^ 



has only two 
arrows left : 

with one he 
through the 

and with the 

through the 

Barton tells 
his men 

to fight on 


they hear his 


Ko whistle 

' But if I wero hanged at your maine- 
mast tree. — Rd. 

^ I liave now left but arrowes twaino. 

^ For this stanza Percy has the fallow- 
ing^, altered from the printed copy: 
Sir .\ndrew he did swarve tlie tree, 

AVitli right good will he swarved then: 
Upon his breast did Horseley hitt, 

But the arrow bounded back agen. 
Then Ilorselye spyed a privy e place 

With a perfect eye in a secret! e part; 
Under the spolo of his right armo 

He smote Sir Andrew to the heart. 

■' right [sure].— P. 

* Fr. espaule, a shoulder. — Cotgrave. 

" leather tunic over the armour. See 
Fairholt, on Jacket. — F. 

' Sir And'*; says.— P. Sir Andrew 
saj'es. — JieJ. 

» a little I'm hurt.— Pi-. Copy, P., and 

' but yett.— 7?e/. i» btit lye.— i?c/. 

" Only half the n in the MS.— F. 
'* Sir And'.'' says. — P. Sir Andrew 
sayes. — lid. 
'^ and never flincho before the foe. — Eel. 
'* But stand fast by St. Andri^w's Cross. 
—P. Copy, P., and Ed. with A>!d for 
2iHf.—¥. '■' Until.— P. 

'° They never heard his whistle blow. 
Which made their hearts waxo 
sore adread: 
Then Horseley sayd,.\board, my l.u'd, 
I'or well I wottSir Andrew's dead. 
E I. (altered from printed copy). — F. 



Howard and 





w/tli thai they borded this ' noble shipp, 
soe did they itt ^ wtth might & maine ; 

tlie fFound 18 score Scotts aliue,^ 

bcsids the rest "vvere maimed & ^ slaiue. 

Howard cuts 
off Barton's 

has his 
body thrown 



My Jjord ^ Haward tooke a sword in his hand,*^ 

& smote'' of ^ S^'r Andrews head. 
the Scotts stood by, did weepe & mourne, 

but neuer a word durst speake or say.^ 
he caused his body to be taken downe,'" 

& ouer the hatch-bord cast '' into the sea, 
& about his middle 300 crownes : 

" wheresoeuer thou lands, itt '^ will bury thee." 

and sails to 

^3 With his head they sayled into England againe 
With right good will, & fforce & meanye,'^ 

' they boarded then [his]. — P. and 

2 They boarded \t.—Rd. 

' Eighteen score Scotts alive they 
found. — Ed. 

* The rest were either maimd or. — Ed. 

* Lord. — Ed. " in hand. — Eel. 
' [insert] ther.— P. 

^ And off he smote. — Ed. 
" they spake or said. — P. 
I must ha' left England many a daye, 

If thou wert alive as thou art dead. — 
Ed. (from printed copy, altered.) — F. 
'" to be cast. — i?c/. 
" Ed. omits cf- and cast. — F. 
'- "Wherever thou land this. — Eel. 
'■' 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 niickle joy and triumphing 

Into Thames mouth he came againe. 
Lord Howard then a letter wrote, 

And sealed it with scale and ring: 
" Such a noble prize have I brought to 
your grace, 
As never did subject to a king. 

Sir Andrewes shipp I bring with nice ; 
A Ijraver sliipp was never nt)ne : 

Nowe hath your grace two shipps of 

Before in England was l)ut one." 
King Henryes grace with royall cheere, 

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, 

Fidl many a fadom in tiie 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 Horsdey, lleni'y 

And Peter Simon, and liis Sonne." 

To Henry Hunt, the king then sayd, 

In lii'ti of what was from thee tano, 
A noble a day thou shalt have, 

With Sir Andrewes jewels and his 
And Horseley thou shalt be a knight, 

And lands and livings shalt have 
store ; 
Howard shall be earl Snrrye higlit. 

As Howards erst have beenc before. 
—Eel. ii. 192-3. 

" main. — P. 



& the day befFore Newyeercs euen 
284 & into Thames mouth againe they came.' 

My Jjord Haward wrote to Kiufj Heneryes gi^acc, 

with, all the newes hee cold him bring : 
" such a newyeeres gifft I haue ^ brou ght to jonv 
288 as neuer did subiect to any^ King. 

wliicli he 
reaches on 
writes to 
Henry VI TT. 
that he hii^; a 
grand new- 
year's gift 
for him. 



"ffor Merchandyes & Manhood, 

the like is nott to be jBTound ; 
the sight of these wold doe you good, 

fFor you haue not the Like in yo?(r English ground." 
but when hee heard tell that they were come, 

full royally hee welcomed them home : 
S/r Andrews shipp was the Kjings Newyeeres guilTt ; 

a brauer shipp you neuer saw none. 

Henry is 
delighted to 
find that it's 



Now hath our King Sir Andrews shipp 

besett with pearles and precyous stones ; 
Now hath England 2 shipps of warr, 

2 shipps of warr, before but one. 
"who holpe to this ? " sayes King Henerte, 

" that I may reward him ffor his paino.'* " 
" Harry Hunt & Peeter Simon, 

William Horseleay, & I the same." 

all over 
The King 
has now two 
ships of war. 

He gives 



" Harry Hunt shall haue his whistle & chaine, [page 4a-)] jewels &c. 

& all his lewells, whatsoeuer they bee, 

& other rich giffts that I will not name, 

308 for his good service he hath done ^mee. 

Horslay, riffht thoust be a Km^iht ; makes 

' ° .^ ' Horseley a 

Lands & linings thou shalt haue store. knight, 

° Howard 

Howard shalbe Erie of Nottingham, S'"'! "^ 

° ' Notting- 

312 & soe was neuer Haward before. '^'""' 

they e.imo again.— P. 

a nol)!p prize have I. — licl. 

a. — lid. 

* MS. paime.— F. 

* [insert] to.— P. 


E E 



and gives 
Simon and 
his son 


The Queen 

to see 


The King 
wishes he 
alive again, 

and sends 
his men 
baclc to 

" Now Peeter Simon, tliou art old, 

I will maintaine tliee & tliy Sonne, 
thou shalt haue 5001' all in gold 
316 ffor the good service thai thou hast done.^ " 
then 'Kiing Henerte shiffted his roome ; 
in came the Queene & ladyes bright ; 
other arrands they had none 
320 but to see Str Andrew Bartton, KnigJd. 

but when they see his deadly fface, 

his eyes were ^ hollow in his head, 
" I wold giue a 100'.'," sais 'King Henerye, 
324 " the •* man were aliue as hee is dead ! 

yett ffor the manfuU pa^-t thai hee hath playd "* 

both heere & ^ beyond the sea ^ 
his men shall haue halfe a crowne^ a day 
328 to bring them to my brother 'King Iamye.* " ffinis. 

' And the men shall have five h\indred 
For the good service they have done. — 
Bd. ; which has for the next four lines : 
Then in came the queene with ladyes 
To see Sir Andrewe Barton knight : 
They weend that hee were brought on 
And thought to have seen a gallant 

^ soe. — Ed. 

3 This.— i?e;. 

■* part he playd. — Rd. 

* [insert] eke. — P. 

* Wliich fought soe well with heart 
and hand. — Bd. 

' twelvepence. — Bd. 

* Till they come to my brother king's 
high land. — Ed. Oh, this restless itch 
of alteration ! — F. 


<( Pity the sorrows of a lover " is the gist of this piece. The 
swain protests that he is scorched with the flame of love, and 
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. 



Like : to the sillye Siluan 

bui^nt by the ffire he liked, 
I scor[c]lied am with, cupidds fiyery fBamc, 

wherin I became ' delighted, 
grant then, o grant, my desire to allay, 

lest that I ruined bee ; 

& godd[e]sse like, saue mee ! 

[By] Loue ^ my lifFe I maiutaine ; 
death by hatred I gaine : 

you ■'' the Murthresse, if slaine I bee. 

Then hand in hand lett pittye 
AVtth bewtyo March intwincd ■* ; 

harmonious pairc, if sec linked they wore, 
how delightffull in thee combined ! 

fi'aircst of all that the sun doth survay, 
Ictt gracyousucsso take place ; 

' ]\IS. bccanc— F. 
■^ ])y your Love. — P. 

you are. — P. 
outwined. — P. 

Vm scoi'ched 
with Cupid's 
flame ! 

Then, love, 

Let Pity join 
with tliy 

E K 2 



Be not too 

pity me ! 


O be not to coye ' ! 

Thou art an Angell, if a ffreind ; 

if an enemye, a ffeend. 
then to pittye concliscend, I pray ! 

Love yonr 
lover again. 

Grant me 


now the time 
is so fit. 



ffaine wold I thai mj desires 

on her might haue refflectyon. 
Lone loued againe ; itt is my only ^ aime 

to be answered with true aftectyon. 
Loue is attended with many a plesuro 

to thee vnknowene as yett. 

mee ^ to those "* loyes admitte ! 

crowne me with those loues rights, 
with those precyous delights, 
whiles the time that vs invites if itts ffitte.^ 


' too coye. — P. 

° it is my only. — P. 

3 MS. meete.— F. 

* mee then to those. — P. 
^ that invites us is so fit. — P. 


|3atitut evi^^tU : ' 

This is a later version of the story which seems to have been 
first told in English Ly 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 Kut Bvoivn 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 

' In the printed Collection of Old ib. — F. vid. Boccacc Chaucer {pencil 
Ballads, 1727, Vol 3. p. 202.— P. "To note). 
the tuno of 2Tie Bride's Good-morrow <^c." 


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 ? 
Griselda 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 

She 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 
Kogers" "for pryntinge of a ballett intituled the souuge of 
pacyente Gressell unto hyr make." 


The poem given by Percy ia the Reliques, called The Patient 
Countess, an extract from Warner^s A lb ion's England, re-presents 
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 /jbSfiylrLjafjios sive 
Conjugium ; which has been agreeably modernized by the late 
Mr. Spence in his little Miscellaneous Publication intitled 
'Moralities &c. by Sir Harry Beaumont, 1753, 8vo. pag. 42.'" 
" 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 Griselda. 

Griselda became a proverb of patience. Scarcely has the 
patience of Job been more widely heard of than hers. Butler 
{Hudihras, part i. cant, ii.) speaks of 

Words far bitterer than wormwood, 
That would in Job or Grizel stir mood. 

A : noble Marquesse, as lice did rydc on ' huntingc a Jtarquis 

, -, -, n- 11 o"t bunting 

hard by a florrest syde, 
a proper maid,'^ as shee did sitt a spinningc, 
4 his gentle eye cspydc. j'''.';!"' .., 

' a. — 0.1). ^ fair and comely IMaiden. — 




His heart is 
on fire, 

and he 
accosts the 


Most ffaire & louely, & of comely ' grace, was sliee, 

altliougli iu simple attii-e ; 
sliee sung fFull sweet ^ with pleasant voice melody ous- 

w/iicli sett the Lords hart on ffire, 
the more he looket, the more hee might ; 
bewtye bred ^ his harts delight ; 

& to this dainty "* damsell then [hee went.] ^ 
" God speed," quoth, hee, " thou fFamous fflower, [p. 49C] 
ffaire Mistress of this homely bower 

where louee & vertue Hues ^ with sweet content ! " 



The Marquis 

asks her 
name ; he 
means to 

marry her. 

" Grissell 
is my name. 
I'm quite 
unfit for 

He urges his 






With comely lesture & modest ^ behauiour 

shee bade ® him welcome ; then 
shee entertaind him in ffaithffull ffrendly man[ner] 

& all his gentlemen, 
the Noble Marquesse in his hart felt such a fflame, 

which sett his sences att striffe ; 
quoth hee, " ffaire mayd,^ show me soone what is thine ^^ 
[name ;] 

I meane to raake thee my wiffe." 
" Grissell is my name," quoth, shee, 
" ffarr vnffitt ffor jour degree : 

a silly may den, & of parents poore." 
" nay, Grissell ! thou art rich," he sayd ; 
" a virtiuos, ffaire, & comely e mayde ! 

grant me thy loue, & I will aske no more." 

she consents, Att Lenght shec Consented, & being both contented, 

they marry, they marryed were with speed. 

her country russett was changed to silke & veluett, 

she is clad 
in silk 

velvet, 32 as to her state agreed 

' a comoly. — O.B. 

* most, sweetly. — O.B. 
" was.— O.B. 

* O.B. omits dainty. — F. 

" Strait the Noble went.— O.B. 

« Dwells.- O.B. 
' O.B. omits ^72c.—F. 
s bids.— O.B. 
» Maiden.— F. 
'» thy name.— P. & O.B. 









& when thai sliee was trimly tyred in tlie same, 

her bewtye shined most bright, 
fiarr stainninge euery other braue & comelye ^ dam[e] 

thai did appears in her sight. ^ 
many enuyed her therfore, 
because shee was of parents poore, 

& twixt her LorcZ & 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 " (q?ioth they) "why doe you ^ 
wrong vs, 

thus baselye ffor to wedd, 
thai ^ might haue gotten an hono?tr«ble ^ Ladye 

into jouY princely bed ? 
who will not now jouv noble issue still ^ deryde, 

w/w'ch heerafter shall ^ be borne, 
thai are of blood soe base on ® the Mothers syde, 

the w7w"ch will bring them in scorne. 
put her therfore quite away ; 
take ^ to you a Ladye gay, 

wherby yottr Linage may renowned bee : " 
thus euery day the seemed to ^^ prate 
thai malHced ^* Grissells good estate, 

who tooke all this most mild & patyentlye.'^ 

and looks 
lovelier than 
anyone else. 

People envy 

call her 


reproach the 

with having 
married a 

his children 
will be 

He should 
put her 
awaj , 

and marry a 

takes it all 

when '^ the Marquesse see ^^ thai '■'' they were bent thus The Marquis 

against his ffaithfiull ^^ wiffe, 
who ^^ most dearly 0, tenderlye, & entirlye, 

loves her 
as his life, 

60 he loued ^^ as his liffe 

' Fair and Princely.— O.E. 

2 O.B. omits this Hue— F. 

3 didst thou.— O.B. 
< Who.— OB. 

s horn''.'.' in the MS.— F. 
® now. — O.B. 
' shall heruaftcT.— O.B. 
» baso Born by.— O.B. 
» And take.— O.B. 

but thinks 
to prove her, 

'» they did.— O.B. •' envy'd.- O.B. 
''•^ Who all this while Took it most 
patiently. — O.B. 

" When that.— O.B. 
" Did see.— O.B. 
'* O.B. omits that.—F. 
'» lawful.— O.B. 
" Wlioin he.— O.B. 
'" Beloved.— O.B. 



and seems 
that men 
may jjity 

She gives 
birth to 
a boy and 

A grand 



is held for 

six weeks, 

and then 
the Marquis 
sends a 
messenger to 
fetch the 
to be 








but says her 

lord must be 

obeyed. §4 

[page 497] 

She kisses 
her babes. 

Minding ^ in secrett for to prone ^ lier patjcnt liart, 

tlierby lier fFoes ^ to disgrace, 
thinking to play ■• a hard discurteons part 

thai men might pittye her case ; — 
great with child this ^ Ladye was ; 
& att lenght ^ itt came to passe, 

2 goodlye children att one birth shoe had, 
a Sonne & daughter god had sent, 
w7i/ch did their iiather "^ well content, 

& w/wch did make their mothers ^ hart full glad. 

Great loy & ^ ffeasting was att the ^^ childrcns christ- 

& princely triumph made. 
6 weekes together all nobles thai came thither 

were entertained, and stayd. 
& when thai all these plasant sporttings ^' quite were '^ 

the Marquesse a Messenger sent 
ffor his young daughter & his pretty smiling so[ne,] 

declaring his ffull entent, 
how thai they '^ babes must murdered bee, — 
for soe the Marquess did decree : 

" come,lett mehaue thy^^ children," then hee say[d]. 
wiith thai, ffaire Grissell wept ffull sore, 
shee wrong her hands, & sayd no more : 

"My ^^ gracyous LortZ must haue his will obayd." 

Shee tooke the babyes ^^ ffrom ^^ the nursing Ladyes 

betweene her tender armes ; 
shee often wishes with many sorrowffull kisses 

thai shee might helpe ^^ their harmes : 

' Meaning. — O.B. 

3 his Foes for.— O.B. 

■• show her. — O.B. 

* the.— O.B. 

« lit the last.— O.B. 

' Mother.— O.B. 

« Father's,— O.B. 

« try.— O.B. '» these.— O.B. 

" the pleasant Sporting. — O.B. 
'■^ was.— O.B. " How the.— O.B. 

'* The.— O.B. 
'» But my.— O.B. 
'« the Babes.— O.B. 
" Royal.— O.B. " Even from.— O.B. "* case.— O.B. 



" ffarwell, ffarwell 1000 times, my children deere ! 

neere ^ shall I see you againe ! 
tis long of me, your sad and -wofull mother hcere, 
92 for whose sake you ^ must be slaine. 
had I beene borne of royall race, 
you might haue lined in hapjiy case, 

but you must dye for my vnworthynesse ! 
96 come, messenger of death," sayd ^ shee, 
" take my despised * babes ffrom mee,^ 

& to theii' ffather my complaints expresse ! " 

Hee tooke the children ; vnto '^ his Noble Master 
100 he brought ^ them both ® with speed, 

who ^ secrett sent them vnto a noble Ladye 

to bee brought vp indeed, 
then to fiaire Grrissell with a heauy hart hee goes 
104 where shee sate my Idly e alone.'*' 

a pleasant gesture & a louelye looke shee showes, 

as if greeflfe '^ shee had neuer '^ knone. 
q^ioth hee, " my children now are slaine : 
108 what thinkes fFaire Grissell of the same ? 

sweet Grissell, now declare thy mind to mee." 
" sith you, m.y Jjord, are pleased with itt, 
poore Grissell thinkes the actyon '^ fitt. 
112 both I and mine att your comand wilbee." 

bills them 

tells them 
they're to 

because she's 
of low blood, 

and bids the 

repeat her 
plaints to 
her husband. 

He takes 


to the 


who sends 

them to a 

lady to be 

brought up, 

and then he 


to Grissell 


receives him 

says the 
children are 
slain ; 
what does 
she think of 
" If it 

pleases you, 
I think it 

" My Nobles '''murmure, fFaire Girssell, at thy honour, Thcnheteiis 

-r n 1 ''^l" tll'lt> to 

& i noe ioy Can haue please his 

. . nobles, she's 

till thou be banisht both ffrom my court & presence, to be sent 


116 as they vniustly craue. 

• Never.— O.B. 
« both.— O.B. 

s q^oth.— O.B. 

* dliirest.— O.B. 
5 to thee— O.B. 
« And to.- O.B. 
' bore.— O.B. 

« thonco.— O.B. 

« Who in.- O.B. 
'" all alouo.— O.B, 
" no Grief.— O.B. 
'- O.B. omits ncuer. — F. 
" tliis.— O.B. 
" One stroke too few in llio M.S.- 



in her plain 
grey frock, 

and be his 
wife no 

thou must be stript out of thy ' gai'mcuts all, 

& as thou earnest vnto ^ mee, 
in homely gray, instead of bisse ^ & purest pall, 
120 now all thy clothing must bee. 
My hady thou slialt * be no more, 
nor I thy LorcZ, w/«ch greeues me sore. 

the poorest liife raust now content thy mind ; 
1 24 a groate to thee I may ^ not giue 
to maintaine thee ^ while I liue '' : 

against my Grissell such great ffoes I ffind." 

The tears 
come to 
lier eyes, 
but she says 

takes off her 
velvet gown, 

puts on her 
russet one, 

kisses her 

Wlien gentle Grissell had hard this * wofull tydings, 
128 the teares stood in her eyes. 

she nothing ^ answered, no Avords of disconte[nt]- 
ment ^'^ 
did ifrom her lipps arrise ; 
her veluett gowne most pitteouslye shee slipped of,'^ 
132 her kirtle of silke with the same. 

her russett gowne was browght againe w/th many a 
scoffe : 
to here '^ them all,^^ her selfe shee did fframe. 
when shee was drcst in this array, 
136 and readye was ^* to part ^^ away, 

" god send long liue vnto my LorcZ ! " q?6oth shoe, 
"Let no Offence be ffound in this, 
to giue my LorcZ a parting kisse." 
140 With wattered ^^ eyes, " ffarwell, my dcare ! " q^oth 

» Of thy brave.— O.B. 

2 to.— O.B. 

' Eyssus, Lat. — Pencil note. 

* must.— O.B. 

» dare.— O.B. 

" Tlife to maintain. — O.B. 

' I do live.— O.B. 

» Did hear these.— O.B. 

" Nothing she.— O.B. 
'" Discontent.— O.B. 
Silk. — " patiently she stripped oiT. — O.B. 

'•- hear.— O.B. 
'» O.B. omits.— F. 
» for.— O.B. - 

'= pass.— O.B. 
'" watry.— O.B. 
" saidslic.-^O.B. 







ffrom statelye ' pallace, vnto lier ffathers cottage 

poore Grissell now ^ is gone. 
flfuU 15 winters sliee liued there contented ; 

no wrong shee thought vpon ; 
& att thai 3 time through all the Land the Speeches 

the ]\Iarqnesse shold niarryed bee 
vnto a Ladye great ■* of hye discent ; 

& to the same all pcw'tyes did ^ agree, 
the Marqnesse sent fFor Grissell ffaire 
the bryds bedchamber to prepare, 

that nothing therin shold ^ bee ffound awrye. 
the bryde was withe her brother come, 
w/w'ch was great loy to all & some : 

& ^ Grissell tooke all this most patyentlye. 
And in the Morning when thai * they shold be wedcd, 

her patyence now ^ was tryde : 
Gr[i]ssell was chargd, her-selfe in princely '° mauno«r 

ffor to attyre the bryde. 

and goes to 
hor father's 

There she 
stays 15 

and is then 
sent for 
to prepare 

new wife's 

[page 498] 

and dress her 
for her 

most willingly shee gaue consent vnto '^ the sam[e :] 
160 the bryde in her '^ brancry was drest, 

& pj'csentlye the noble Marquesse thither came 
with all his 'Lords att his request : 

" Grissell, I wold '^ aske of thee 
164 if thou wold to this match '■* agree ; 

methinkes thy lookes ai*e waxen '^ wonderous coy." 

with thai they all began to smile, 

& Grissell shee replyes '*' the while, 
168 *' god send Lo/-'i Marquesse many yeeres of loy ! " 

dresses the 
bride ; 

and then the 

aslcs her if 
she agrees to 
tlic match. 

She wishes 
liiin many 
happy years. 

' Princfly.— 0.15. 
2 she.— O.E. 
« this.— O.JJ. 

* Noblo Lady.— O.E. 

* O.B. omits did.—i\ 
« Migiit.— O.B. 

' But.— 0.15. 
« as.— O.B. 

» there.- O.B. 
"> fripiidly.— O.B. 
" to do.— O.B. 
" O.B. omits kcr.—F. 
" will.— 0.15. 

" If to this Match thou wilt. 
'^ waxed.— 0.1!. 
'" reply'd.- O.B. 




The Marquis 

steps to her 

and says, 
"You are 
my only 
britle : 
these are 

You who 
envied her, 
blush for 
shame 1 

Fame shall 





The Marquesse was moued to see his best beloucd 

thus patyent in distresso ; 
he stept vnto her, & by the hand he tooke her ; 
172 these words he did expresse : 

" thou art the * bryde, & all the brydes I nieane to 
haue ! 
these 2 thine owne children bee ! " — 
the youthfull [Lady] ^ on her knees did blessing craue ; 
176 her brother as willing ^ as shee ; — 
" & you that enuye her estate 
whom I haue made my louing "* mate, 

Now blush ffor shame, & honour vertuous liffe ! 
180 the chronicles of Lasting ffame 
shall eucj-more extoll the name 

of patyent Grrissell, my most patyent ■'' wiffe ! " 


' my.— O.B. 

- youthful Lady.— O.B. 

3 well.— O.B. 

chosen. — O.B. 
constant. — O.B. 


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 Ovros lttttos school. 

1N: Barwicke Low,' as late beffell, 

a great mishap happened therin 
wold peaine ^ a stonye hart to tell : 
4 the great discourse that did begin 

Betwixt 2 youthes of gentle blood, 
as they were walking all alone, 
they wrought their wills as they thought good, 
8 -which made their ffreinds to wailc & mone. 

a sail mishap 

between two 




The one hight Scroope, as I heard tell, 
the other browne, as I hard say : 

betwixt these 2 itt soe beffell, 

that hand to hand the rnadc allray. 

and Browne. 

? Bcnvick Low, a hill near TlorM'ick. — H. 

■' Qu. MS.— F. 



with not 
daring to 
fight him. 


Saitli Scroope to Browne, " what dost tliou meane 

to come all naked ^ thus to mee ? 
itt meaneth sure, by thy comj»ing, 

thou wilt not ffight, but rather fflee." 

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 

and fought 

They drew fforth their swords anon, 
they ffought together manifullye, 
they 2 bright blades in the sun shone,— 
24 Lord, itt was great loy to see ! — 

till Scroope 

hit Browne 
a cruel cut 
ill the leg, 

and called 
on him to 
would not ; 
they fought 
again ; 

and Browne 



They Laid on strokes tliai were soe strong, 

they ifought together manffuUye. 
att Lenght Scroope [pressed] ^ vnto Browne, 
28 [&] w/tli 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 iliai stroke bo[tc ;] 
32 Lorf^, itt pearced him cruelly ! 

They tooke their breath, & still they stoode : 

Qttoth Scroope, "thou Browne, yeelde thee to mee ! 
[on] w7;/ch, Browne waxing neere hand wood, 
36 together ffearfullye they cold fflee. 

They Lady came runinge apace : 

Browne cast vp his head & did her see ; 
w/th that hee cut Scroope in the fFace ; 
40 [the sword to the brain went through his ee.'*] 

' nakoil = unarmed. So nndus in 
" In raaxirao iiietu nudutti et caecum 
corpus ad hostes vortcre." — Sail. Jirtj. 107 
and elsewhere, and yvuvhs in Horn. 11. 
xvi., 81 5, ou5' vireueivei/ ndrptMiXoy yvfiviv 

nep iivr iv STji'jTTjTi, and elsewhere. — II. 

^ their.— P. 

•'' pressed.- — Dyce. 

* A line of the MS. is pared away. — F. 
Alas ! it was tlic more pittye. — P. 




" Out & alas ! " q?<i'tli this gay Ladje, 

" Browne ! why wouldest thou doe this deedc ? 

I loued him better then I loued thee ! " 
shee kist liis wounds as they did bleede. 

[page 499] Browne's 


She loved 
Scroope best. 

" Ladye," qiioth. Browne, " my owne thou art ! 

owr 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 greeueth mee ; 
but ffor his sake that heere is dead, 
52 taken soone that thou shalt bee." 

" I care not 
for that : 

you shall be 
taken up for 

" No, ISTo, No, Ladye ! " he sayes, 

" if that thou wilt thy troth deniye, 
yett ffor his sake that heei^e Lyes ' dead, 
56 taken will I neuer bee." 

Hee tooke the sword then by the blade, 

the lieauye 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 
says Browne, 

then runs 
through the 

The ffattall end of Scroope & Browne, 

of botlie their ffreinds Lamented was ; 
& eke the crye through Barwicke townc 
64 was " wellaway, & out alas ! " 

But of this Ladye, marke the end, 

that causer was of deadlye fuyde : 
a swouiiig trance god did her send 
68 that shee ffell dead vpon the ground. 

Tlio Lady 

falls down tt>o. 

VOL. 111. 

' MS. Lyed— F. 
F F 


learn to keep 
secrets ! 


You Ladyes all thai heere my song, 

& maidens all of Eche degree, 
see yea neue?- speake word wt'tli jouv tounge, 

but keepe itt till the day you dye. 

Toung men; 
seek for a 
true love : 

it's a rare 


And young men all thai heere my song, 
to seeke true loue doe you not spare ; 

tliougli PiRAMUs be eft ^ to find, 

yett Thisbye is a bird most rare. ffinis. 

' eath. — P. eft, qxiick, ready : Shakspere, in Halliwell. — F. 

['•' Now ffye on Dreames,'^ printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs, p. 109, 
follows here in the MS. p. 499.] 


Geoffkey of Monmouth tells us^ that after the Trojan war, 
^neas, 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 biggest and 
most detestable monster Goemagot. Brutus took the rest of the 
island, christened the whole of it Britain, after his own name, and 
built on the Thames the city of New Troy, afterwards called 
Kaer Lud and then London. After Brutus's death his three sons 
shared his kingdom — Locrin, the eldest, taking the middle of the 
island called Loegria, of which we hear so often in the Arthur 
romances ; Kamber, the second son, taking Kambria, or Wales ; 
and Albanact, the youngest, taking Albania, or Scotland. Locrin 

' A late version of tlie story told l>y lection of Old Ballads 1726, Vol. 2. p. 5. 

Geoffrey of Monmouth and his Welsh N.I. — P. 

translators, by Wace (i. Go-71), Laya- '^ Book i, Chapters iii-xviii. Book ii, 

mon (i. 91-106), IloLert of Gloucester Chapters i-v, A. Tiiompson's translation 

(i. 23-7), Robert of Brunne (Inner Temple revised by Giles (Bohn, 1S18) p. 91- 

MS. fol. 13) &c.— F. lu tho printed Col- 109.— F. 

V r 2 


was betrothed to Guendolsena, the daughter of Corineiis. Then 
Humber, king of the Huns, invaded Albania, and slew Albanact. 
Locrin and Kamber routed Humber near the river which now bears 
his name, and in which he was drowned. In one of Humber's 
ships Locrin found the lovely Estrildis, of beauty " hardly to be 
matched. No ivory or new-fallen snow, no lily could exceed the 
whiteness of her skin." For love of her, Locrin would have 
broken his troth to Corineus's daughter, but the giant-slayer 
shook his battle-axe at him, and he thereupon married Gruendolgena. 
But he kept Estrildis in "apartments underground," and begat 
on her a most beautiful daughter who was named Sabren. In 
process of time Corineus died, Locrin divorced Guendolsena, and 
advanced Estrildis to be queen. But " twenty thousand Cornish 
men would know the reason why," as a modern ballad sings of 
another event. They met Locrin near the river Sture ; he was 
killed by the shot of an arrow ; and G-uendolaena became queen. 
She had Estrildis and her daughter Sabren thrown into the river 
now called Severn after that daughter; Guendoh-pna 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. JNIadden shows in 
his note in Layamon iii. 313 (p. 440, note ^ 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 hmiian 
beings is again to the imagination, the life, of man. A light is on 
Greece and Judsea, on Norse-land and England too, when tlie 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 



were done, the sufiferings they sing were suffered. And tliough 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 (larken'd heart that beat no more, {In Memoriam, xix.) 

when we learnt that Tennyson's friend lay on Severn's bank, 
and that there from his ashes might be made 

The violet of his native land, {ib, xviii.) 

Though Greoffrey's stories be not true, let us not forget that we 
owe him a debt of fjratitude for them. 



When number 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 Lenglit hee ffound King Humber out. 

Att vantage great he mett him then, 
& AVith his hoast besett him. soe 

thai hee destroyed his warlike men, 
& HuMBERS power did ouerthrowe ; 

& Humber, w/tich ffor ffeare did fflye, 

leapt into a riuer desjDc/'attlye. 

And be[i]ng drowned in the deepc, 

& left a Ladye there a-liue, 
& ' sadlye did lament and weepe 

for ficarc they shold her lillc depriue ; 
but by her fface iliai was soe ffaire 
the King was caught in cupidds snare. 


Humber had 


and routed 
his army. 

and Humber 


Locrin fell 
in love with 
a Huuuish 
and secretly 

' who. — P. 



(to the 
sorrow of his 
by whom he 
had a sou) 

begat a 
daughter on 

then put 

(who took 
refuge in 

and crowned 
Estrilde his 






Hec tooke tlie Ladye to his loue, 
& secrettlye • did keepe her still ; 

soe that tliey Queene did quicklye prone 
tlie IS-ivg did beare lier small good ^ will ; 

although in wedlocke late begun, 

liee had by her a gallant sonne. 

Queene Guendoline was greened in m[i]nde 
to see the ^ing was altered soe ; 

att leng'ht the cause shee chanct to ffind, 
w7i/ch brought her to much bitter woe. 

ffor Estrilde was his ioy, god wott, 

by whom a daughter hee begott.^ 

The duke of cornewall being dead, 
the ffather of that gallant queene ■* ; 

the K.!rig by lust bemg ouer-ledd, 
his lav/fFuU wiffe hee cast of cleane, 

who w/th her deare and tender sonne 

for succour did to cornewall turne. 

Then Locrine crowned Estrild bright, 
& made of her his lawfull wiiTe ; 

w/th her w7i/ch was his harts delight, 
he thought to lead a pleasant liffe. 

thus Guendoline, as once ^ ffoi'lornc, 

was of her husband held in scorne. 

' Wace puts her into a deep cellar, 
and keeps her there seven years : 

Par iin, sou Lon familier, 

Fist a Londre faire un celier, 

Desos terre parfondement ; 

La fu Estril bien longement: 

Set ans la tint issi Locrin 

Celeenient el sostc^rin. — JJrut, i. 68-9. 

'^ There is a tag at the end in the MS. 
like an s. — F. 

^ I'ant i ala et con versa 
Qu' Eslril une fille enfanta. 
Abren ot nom, mult par fu cl^re 
Et plus bele qu' Estril sa mere 
Qui mult fu bfele et avenant. 
"Wace, liomans de Brut, i. 69, 1. 1435-9. 

(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 b^le ; 
Ne p^ust, ou nol liu trover 
Plus bele de li, ne sa per. 

* He was Corineus, the Trojan chief, 
"who slew the king of the giants, Gog- 
gamog, that was, men say, about four and 
twenty feet long. R. Glosicr, i. 22. It 
slioidd be remembered of England, that 
in those days " in this island wero 
giants ; no other people dwelt there." 
{Wace,\- 51).— F. 

* one, Al. Ed.— P. 



But when the cornish men did know 
44 the great abuse ^ shee did endure, 

wtth her a number great did goe, 
which shee by prayers did procure. 

in battell ^ then they marcht alonge 
48 for to redresse this greeuous wronge, 

The Cornish 
men resolve 
to avenge 


And neere a riuer called store ^ They attack 


the 'King w/th all his host shee mett, 
where both the armyes fought full sore, 

[but then the qu]eene the feild did gett ; ''^feat him, 
yett ere they did the conquest ga[i]ne, [pagesoi] 

the Kdng was with an arrow slaine. and kiii him. 



Then Gdendoline did take in hand — 
Yntill her sonne was come to age — 

the gouer[n]ment of all the Land ; 
& tJiai great fiury to aswage, 

shee did command he[r]^ souldiers wild 

to drowne both Estrill & her child. 



Estrilde and 
her girl to 
be drowned. 


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 

are cast into 
the river, 

' A stroke 'between the s and c in tlio 
MS.— F. abuse.— P. 

'^ column, niilitivry formation. — F. 
' La3amon's account (cd. Madden, i. 
104-5) is: 

MS. Cott. Calig. A. ix. 
& heo to gadero comew i 
vppen ane watore. 
})at watere hattc Stoure ! 
}:at feiht was swiSe st?<rne. 

inne Dorsete ! 
Locrin deaS (;olcde. 

MS. Cott. Otho, C. viii. 
and liii to gadero com en '. 
vppcn one watere. 
\>dt liatte Steure '. 
\};\t fiht was sw\]i>e sturno. 
ino Dorsete! 
Locrin doa)' t>olede. 
her al. id. — P. 



which has 
since been 





was drowned 




And euer since that runing streame 
wliei'in these Ladyes drowned were, 

is called Seueene tln-ouglie the realme, 
because that Sabrine dyed there. ^ 

thus 2 they that did to lewdnesse bend, 

were brous'ht vnto a wofull end. mniS. 

' La3amoii (ed. Madden i. 105) says: 

ta hehte heo [Gvendolfine] ane heste . . 

Jjat me sculde |>at ilke water '. 

\>eT Abren was adninken. 

clepien hit Aiiren ; 

for t>aune mseidene Abron. 

& for Locrines lufe '. 

\>e wes hire kine louerd. 

i>o het 360 one heste. 

i^at me solde }>at ilk water '. 

\>ar Abren was a-dronke. 

cleopie hit Auren '. 

for fan maide Abrew. 

On 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 I'ewe u ele fut jetee, 
Del nom Abren Avren apelee ; 
Avren, ke de Abren son nom prent, 
A Cr iste-cherche euraer Aescent. — f. 28' 

" It is very evident that by Auren or 
Avren the Twer Avon is intended, which, 
after being joined by the Stour, falls into 
the sea at Christchurch. 8o 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 whites, ' Jubet enim Es- 
trildem et filiam ejus Sabren prsecipitari 
in fluvium qui nunc Sahria dicitur. 
Unde contigit quod usque in hunc diem 
appellatum est flumen Britannica lingua 
Sabren [i/rtyrcw], quod per corruptionem 
nomiuis 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. 
Scuerne it hate for the child Sabren, 
For th* childe the name we ken. 

/. 13^ c. 1." 

Ebren is the name of one of the 
daughters of Ebroc. {Wace i. 76, 1. 
1596).— F. 
" MS. this.— F. 


hx tin IDai)t^ oi (BlUt*' 

CoriES 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 
Ritson'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 Bakl 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 w^as carried ofi" 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), lie again visited the French monarch, and after a 

' In iJie printed Collection of Old Prince was disastcrouly slain, and the 

Ballads 1727. Vol. i. p. 182. No. xxiii. aforesaid was afterwards mar- 

— P. There the long lines of our copy ried to a Forrester." To the tuno of 

are printed in two, and the Ballad is C'rwison Velvet. The Clarendon com- 

entitlcd " An Excellent Ballad of a mas in our text are for the heavy 

Prince of Etighinds Courtship to the commas of the MS., meant for mescal 

King of France's Daughter, and how the points or bars. — F. / ■ 


courtship of three montlis 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 Hes at Winchester. 
(Stevenson's Church Sistorians 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 ^thulwulf, then, lived two years after his return from Rome, 
during which, among many other useful jjursuits 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 yoimg widow was married 
by Ethelbert the son, who immediately succeeded him on the 

This incestuous connection (says Lingard) scandalised the people 
of Wessex ; their disapprobation was publicly and loudly expressed ; 
and the King, overawed by the remonstrances of the Bishop of 
Winchester, consented to a separation. , , . 

Judith, unwilling to remain in a country which had witnessed her 
disgrace, sold her lands, the dower she had received from Ethelwulf, 
and returned to the court of her father. Charles, who dared not 
trust the discretion of his daughter, ordered her to be confined within 
the walls of Senlis, but to be treated at the same time wdth 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 i-eseut- 


ment. The King prevailed on liis bishops to excommunicate Bald^vdn 
for having forcibly carried off a widow, but the Pope disapproved of 
the sentence, and at his entreaty Charles gave a reluctant consent to 
their marriage, though neither he nor Aixhbishop 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. Tlie marriage 
brought about in the latter part, and the reconciliation at last 
effected between the French King and his daughter, are historical 

The metre is notable. The piece was sung, as we have seen, 
to the tune of Crimson Velvet. Could it have given the name 
originally to that tune ? The Queen is described in v. iii, when 
she is awaiting the coming of the King her father, as " richly clad 
in fair crimson velvet." This tune, says Mr. Collier, in his Rox- 
hurghe 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 Pojpidar Music, ''is 'The lamentable 
complaint of Queen Mary, for the unkind departure of King- 
Philip, in whose absence slie 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 Yilnij a daughter had, bewtyous, bi'ight, & nFrcneii 

King liiid a 

louelye,^ lov^iy 


4 w7(/ch made her ffathcr glad, slice was his onlyc 

' plainly. -O.B. " fair ami comely. — O.B. 



■n-hom an 



and won. 

This made 
her father 


A prince of England came, whose deeds did merit 
fame ; 
he woed he[r] long, & loe, att last, 
looke^ -what he did reqn[i]re, shee granted his de- 
sire ; 
their harts in one were linked fFast: 
wA/ch when her ffather proued, hord ! how he was 
& tormented in his minde ! 
he sought pro^ to preuent them, and to discontent 
fortune crossed loners kind. 

and he 




The Lady 
packed up 
her jewels, 

and vent, 



to meet her 


in a forest. 

But while he 
was waiting 

robbed and 
stabbed him 



When these princes twaine, were thus debarred of^ 
through the Kings disdaine, w/a'ch their ioyes with- 
the JjSidye gott ^ vp close, her iewells & her treasure. 

hauing no remorse of state or royall bloode, 
in homelye poore array shee went ffrom court away 

to meete her ioy ^ & harts delight, 
who in a fforrest great, had taken vp his seate 

to Avayt her cominge in the night, 
but see ^ what sudden danger, to this princly stranger 

chanced, as he sate ^ alone : 
by outlawes hee was robbed, & with ponyards ^ 

mortally. 24 vttering many a dying grone. 

The Prin- 
cess, uncon- 

The princesse armed by him, and by true desire, 
wandr-ing all the night w/'thout dreat '** att all, 
still vnknowne shee past, in her strange attyre 
28 coming att the last, in the ^' Ecohes call, 

' from.— O.B. 

2 Look.— O.B. 

3 for.— O.B. 

* barr'd of.— O.B. 

5 lock'd.— O.B. 
« Love.— O.B. 
' lo.— O.B. 
8 set.— O.B. 

" a Poniard. — O.B. 
'» Dread.— O.B. 
II Within.— O.B. 





"you fFaire woods," qnoth. sliee, "honored may you thanks the 

wootis for 

bee ! 

harbouring my harts delight, 
w7^/ch doth compasse ' heere, my ioy & onlye deere, 

my trustye ffreind & comelye K.night. 
sweete, I come vnto thee, sweete, I come to woo thee, 

that thou maist not angrye bee. 
for my long delaying, & thy ^ curteous staying, 

amends fFor all He make to thee ^ ! " 

her love, 

and promises 

to make him 
amends for 
his waiting. 

Passing thus alone through the silent forrest, 

many greeuous grones,"* sounded in her eares,^ 
where shea heard a man to lament the sorest 
40 tJiat was euer seene,^ fforct by deadlye teares ^ : 
" ffarwell my deere," q?<oth hee, " whom I must ^ 
neue?' ^ see ! 
ffor why, my liffe is att an end ! 
through villanes cruelty e, lo ^^ ! heere for thee I dye '' ! 
44 to show I am a fFaith[f]ull ffreind, 

there '^ I lye a ^^ bleeding, while my thoughts are 
on thy ^^ rarest bewtye ffound. 
hard hap that may bee, litle knowes my Ladyc 
48 my harts blood Lyes on the ground ! " 

Then she 



a lover 


to his 



With, that he jraue a gronc, which ^° did burst in sunder '*» [i"i.?c "io-i] 

° ° ' and then 

all the tender strings of his bleedinge ''^ hart. 'lying- 

slice, which 1^ knew his voice, att his talc did wonder : she knows 

52 all her former ioy,''-* did to greeffe conuert. voice, 

' encompass. — O.B. 

* One stroke too many to the y. — F. 
' make thee. — O.B. 

■• Many a gi-ievoiis Groan. — O.B. 

* Ear.— O.B. 

' Chance that ever came. — O.B. 

' Strife.— O.B. 

8 sliall.— O.B. 

» MS. racurr.— F. 

"> MS. to.— F. 

" For thy sweet sake I clyo. 
Through Villians Cruelty. 
•■^ Here.— O.B. 
'» O.B. omits a.—F. 
" the.— O.B. 
'* that.— O.B. 
'" break asunder. — O.B. 
" gentle.- O.B. 
" who.— O.B. 
'" Joys.— O.B. 




runs to him, 

and fln'ls 
him dead. 





straiglit sliee ran to see, who this man shol[d] ^ lie 

that see like her loue did speake, 
& found, when as shee came, her lonely LorcZ lay 
all 2 smeared in blood w/uch liffe did breakc. 
when this deed shee spyed,^ Jjord, how sore shee 
cryed ! 
her sorrow cannott ■* counted bee. 
her eyes like fountaines runinge, while shee cryed out, 
" my darli[ng !] ^ 
wold god tliai I had dyed for thee ! " 

His pale lipps, alas, 20 times shee kissed, 

& his fface did waslie, w/th her trickling ^ teares, 
euery bleeding wound, her faire eyes ^ bedewed, 

wipinge of the blood, with her golden haires. 
"speake, faire* loue! " qwoth shee, "sjieake, faire ^ 
prince, to me ! 

one sweete word of comfort giue ! 
lifet vp thy fayre eyes, listen to my cryes ! 

thinke in what great greeffe I line ! " 
all in vaine shee sewed, all in vaine shee vewed,"' 

the princesse ^^ liffe was dead '^ and gone, 
there stood shee still mourning, vntill '^ the sunns ^* 

& bright day was coming on. 

" In this great ^^ distresse," q/foth this royall Ladye, 
" who can now expre[s], what Avill become of mc ? 

to my fiPathers court will I neuer '^ wander, 

but some service seeke where I may placed bee." 

and exclaims, 

Would God 
I had died 
for thee ! 

She kisses 

wipes the 
blood from 
him with 
her golden 
hair, and 
pra3's him 
for one word 
of comfort. 

Alas! in 

Slic mourns 

till the day 

and then 

not to 
return to 
but to seek 

' might.— O.B. 

2 O.B. omits All.—Y. 

^ Whieli when that she espycd. — O.B. 

^ could not.— O.B. 

^ 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. 

» my.— O.B. 
'" wooed.— O.B. 
" Prince's.— O.B. 
'« fled.— O.B. 
'3 Till.— O.B. 
»' sums in the MS. — F. 
'* returning:. — P. 
'' Never will I.— O.B. 

dear.— O.B. 

'« sad.— O.B. 


& ^ thus sliee made her mone, weeping all alone, • 

all in dread "^ and deadly e ffeare. 
A fforrester all in greene, most comely to be seene, a forester 

80 ranging the woods, ^ did ffind her there, 

round besett w/th sorrow, " maid,'* " q?wth [he,^] " god nccostis her. 
morrowe ! 
what hard hap hath brought you heere ? " 
" harder happ did neue;-. chance vnto ** maiden euer. shoteiis 

. ^ him 

84 heere lyes slaine my brother deere ! iicr brother 

■' "^ lies slain, 

" where might I be placed, gentle forster, tell mee, and asks 

where shall ^ I procure a service in my neede ? where she 

can got 

paines I will ^ not spare, but will doe my dutye ; taken into 
88 ease mee of my care, helpe my extreme neede ! " 

the fforrester all amazed, att ^ her bewtye gazed The forester 

till his hart was sett on ffire : fails in love 

with her, 

" if, ffaire mayd," q?ioth hee, " you will goe with mee, 
92 you shall haue yowr 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''* her louc he gains her 

° _ ' love, 

gained : 
9G thus did fortune ' ' his glory raise ; 

Thus \Tiknowen he macht, with a''^ 'Kinns fiaire . anri so 

marries a 

daughtefrl ; Km^s 

^ L J ' daughter. 

children 7 shee '^ had ere shee told the same.''* she bears 

hnn seven 

but when he vnderstood, shee was a royall princesse, 
100 by this meanes att last, hee shewed forth lusr '^ 
fame : 

and then 
tells him 
who bhe is. 

' Whilst.— O.B. . » Ou.— O.B. 

« In this deep.— O.B. '" length.— O.B. 

3 wood.— O.B. " So Fortune did.—O.B. 

* Fair Maid.— O.B. '^ the.— O.B. 

» quoth he.— P. & O.B. " he.— O.B. 

« to.— O.B. " to him was known.— O.B. 

' might.— O.B. '* ? M.S. thvr with Iho t blotched out. 

» will I.— O.B. — F. her.— O.B. 



He dtesses 
his children 
in cloth of 
gold on the 
left side, 
wool on tho 

The King 
of France 

to the forest 
to hunt, 

lie clothed his children then, not like to other men, 

in partye conlors strange to see ; 
the left ^ side, cloth of gold ; the right ^ side, now ^ 
104 of Avollen cloth still fframed hee. 

men heratt * did wonder, golden fame did thunder ^ 

tliis strange deede in euery place, 
the 'King of ffrance came thither, being pleasan[t] ^ 
108 in the "^ woods the harts ^ to chase. 

and the 
are placed in 
his way, 
with the 
mother in 
the father in 

The King 
asks him 
how he dares 
dress his 
wife and 
children so. 

" Because 
their mother 
is a prin- 




The children then^ did stand, as their father ^^ willed, 

where the royall King must of force come by, 
their mother richly clad, in faire crimson ^^ veluett, 

their ffather all in gray, comelye^^ to the eye. 
then the ^^ famous King, noting euery thinge, 

did aske "how hee durst be soe bold 
to let his wiffe to weare, & decke his children the[re,] 

in costly robes of cloth, of ^^ gold." 
the iforrester replyed,^^ & the cause descryed ; 

to '^ the King thus did hee ^^ say : 
" well may they by their mother, weare rich gold ^^ 
w/th other, 

being by birth a princesse '^ ^^J-^^ 

The King The King vpon these words, more heedfully beheld 

till a crimson blush his conceipt did crosse : 

Right.— 0.13. 

Left.— O.B. 

to.— O.B. 

thereat. — O.E. 

MS. thmdor.— F. 

The t is put on by a later haiid.- 

these.— O.B. 

Hart.— O.B. 

there.— O.B. 

Mother.— O.B. 

" MS. crinson. — F. 

'- Most comely. — O.B. 

'3 When this.— O.B. 

'« of Pearl and.— O.B. 

'•^ boldly rcply'd.— O.B. 

'" And to.— O.B. 

" he thus did.— O.B. 

I" Cloaths.— O.B. 

'» Only half the n in the MS.- 



" the more," q?(otli lice, " I looke ' on thy wiffe & 
124 [The more I call to mind the Daughter Avhom I 
"I am that child," q?ioth shee, falling on her knee ; 

" pardon mee, my soucraine leege ! " 
the perceiuing this, did his daughter ' kisse, 
128 &* ioyfull teares did stopp his speech. 

with his traine he turned, & with them ^ soioumed ; 

straight hee dubd her husband knight, 
then ^ made him Erie of fflanders, one of his clieefe 
com??ianders : 
132 thus was his sorrow" put to fihght, ffinis. 

says the 
must be 
Ills lost 

[page 503] 
She owns 
that she is. 

He kisses 

her husband, 
antl makes 
him Earl of 

• I look, quoth he— O.B. 
^ O.B. The line was pared off the 
folio by the binder. — F. 

^ His Daughter dear did. — O.B. 

« 'Till.— O.B. 

5 her.— O.B. 

« He.— O.B. 

' were their Sorrows. — O.B. 


r, G 


Amintas is here chided for his inconstancy by the unhappy 
victim of it, who, having said her say and moaned her moan, 
dies. The piece is but commonplace. The allusion to the 
name-cutting on the trees will remind the reader of Orlando's 
habit, so distasteful to Jacques. Both in the stanza that contains 
it and in the preceding one the poet closely imitates the pretty 
lines Ovid puts in poor forlorn CEnone'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, tantiim mea nomina crescunt. 

Crescite et in titulos surgite recta meos, 
Populus est, memini, fluviali eonsita ripa, 

Est in qua nostri litera scripta memor. 
Popule, viva precor, quae eonsita margine ripse 

Hoc in rugoso cortice carmen habes : 
Quum Paris Qilnone poterit spirare relicta, 

Ad fontem Xanthi versa recurret aqua.' 
Xanthe, retro propera, versseque recurrite lymphse, 

Sustinet CEnonen deseruisse Paris. 

One Tiot day, 

drove his 
flocks to 

Amintas, on a summers day 

to shunn Apolloes beames, 
went driuing of his fflockes away 

to tast some cooling streames. 
and through a fforrest as liee went, 

neere to a riuer side, 
a voice which from a groue Avas sent, 

invited him to abyde : 

An old Song not inelegant or unpoetical. — P. 











A voice well seeming ^ to bewrayc 

a discontented mind, 
ffor offtentimes I hard liim ^ say, 

10000 times, "vnkinde! " 
the remnant ^ of this ragged mone 

wold not escape my eare 
till euery sigh brought fForth a grone, 

& euery sobb a teare. 

But leaning her vnto her-selfc ; — 

in sorrowes, sighes, & mone, 
I heard a deadly discontent : 

these 2 brake fforth att one : 
" Amintas ! is my loue to thee 

of such ■* small account, 
that thou disdainest to looke on mee, 

& loue as thou was wont ? 

" How often ^ didest thou protest to me, 

' the heauens shold tume to naught, 
the sunn shold ffirst obscured bee, 

ere thou wold change thy thought ! ' 
but heauens, be you dissolued quite ! 

sunn, show thy fface no more ! 
ffor my Amintas, hee is lost, 

a ! woe •* is me therflfore ! 

" How oft didst thou ingraue o«r names, 

neere to the rocke of ^ Bay ? 
still wishing that our Loue shold haue 

no worse successe then they, 
but they in groues still happy prouc, 

& fflourish doe the still, 
whiles I [in ^] sorrow doe remaine, 

still wanting of my Avill. 


Oh unkind ! 

A girl 

broke forth 
" Amintas! 

Why dost 
thou disdain 

Amintas is 
lost to me. 

1 live In 
sorrow, and 
want my 

' MS. sccmimg. — F. 

» it.— P. 

* MS. rcnniint. — F. 

• [insert] a. — P. 

• oft clid'st, as in line 33. — Dyce. 

• Ah ! woe. — P. 
' on.— P. 

» in.— P. 

o ci 2 



False man, 

thou hast 
broken thy 

and left me 

to end my 
days in 



" ffalse, forsworno, & ffatlielesse man! 

disloyall in thy loue ! 
thou hast fforgott thy promises, 

and dost vnconstant prone. 
& thou hast [left '] me all alone 

in this woefull distresse, 
to end my dayes in heauinesse, 

yfhich. well thou misfht redresse." 

She breathed 
her last. 

and died for 



And then shee sate vpon the ground, 

her sorrowes to deplore ; 
but after this was neuer seene 

to sigh nor sobb noe more. 
And thus in loue as shee did Hue, 

soe ffor loue shee did dye ^ ; 
a ffairer creature neuer man 

beheld with, morttall eye. 

' left.— p. 

' Shee for her love did. — P. 


OTinino:e of Cakd/ 

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 Agiucourt 
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 war and immense magazines 
of provisions and naval stores ; the defences of Cadiz, the strongest 
fortress in his dominions, had been razed to the ground ; and the 

' An exffUciit <j1i1 LalliKl : on llie Under tlio Lord i\iliniiMl Ilowaixl, & 
■\Viniiiiig of Cadiz— on June 21".' loDO: Ivirl of Essex, General. — P. 



secret of his weakness at home had been revealed to the world, at the 
same time that the power of England had been raised in the eyes of the 
European nations. Even those who wished well to Spain, allotted the 
praise of moderation and humanity to the English commanders, who 
had suffered no blood to be wantonly spilt, no woman to be defiled, 
but had sent under an escort the nuns and females to the port of 
St. Mary, and had allowed them to carry away their jewels and 
wearing apparel." 

"The town of Cales," says Raleigh (^apud Cayley, i. 272) " was very 
rich in merchandise, in plate, and money; many rich prisoners given 
to the land commanders, so as that sort are very rich. Some had 
prisoners for 16,000 ducats, some for 20,000, some for 10,000, and 
beside gi'eat houses of merchandise." 

[page 504] 
The proud 
conquer us. 

-Long : the proud Spamyareds had van-ted to con- 
quer vs, 

threatning ^ our Country w/th ffyer & sorde, 
often preparing their nauy most sumptuos, 

wi"th as great plenty as spaine cold afforde : 
duba-dub, dub-a-dub ! thus strikes their drummes, 
tanta-ra, ra-ra ! the Englishmen comes ! 

But Howard 

and Essex 

To the seas presentlye went our Lord Admirall, 

with 'kniyJits ^ couragyous, & captaines flPull good ; 
The Erie of Essex, a prosperous generall, 

With him prepared to passe the salt ffloode. 
dub a dub &c. 

Bet sail from 

12 Att plimmouth speedilye, tooke they shipp valliantly 
brauer shipps neuer weere seene vnder sayle. 
With their ffayre colours spread, & streamers ore their 
now, bragging spauyards, take heede of yo?fr tayle ! 
16 dub &c. 

' Ono stroke too few in the JVIS. — F. 

■' Kiiiohts.— P. 


Vnto cales ' cuninglye came wee most speedylye, and 

anchoi'eil at 

"vvnere the K/nr/s nauye securely did ryde ; Cadiz, 

being ^^^ou tlieu" backes, pearcixig their butts of 
20 ere any spanyards our coming descryde. dub : &c. 

Great was the crying, runing & rydinge, The 


Av7i/ch att that season was made in that place ; hunied to 

and fro, 

the beacons were fFyered, as need then required ; and lighted 

24 to hj-de their great treasure they had litle space. beacons. 

There you mio-ht see theu" shipps, how they were fiired we fired 

•' * -^ -^ ' ■' their ships, 

& how their men drowned themselues in the sea ; drowned 

' their men, 

there might they here them ciye, wayle & weepe 
28 wlien they saw no shifFt to scape thence away. 

The great Sctint Phillipp, the pryde of the Spanyards, sank their 

was burnt to the bottom, & sunke in the sea. 
but the Saint Andrew & eke the Sa«it Matliew, and took 

' their St. 

32 wee tooke in flight manfullye, & brought them Andrew. 

The Erie of Essex most vallyant and hardy, Essex 

With horsemen & ffootmen marched toward the marched 

witli our 
towne. army to the 

the spanyards vfhich. saw them, were greatly affrighted, 
36 did fflye ffor their sauegard, & durst not come 

"Now," qituth the Noble Erie, "courage, my soul- 
diers all ! 
flight and be vallyant ! they ^ sjioyle you shall haue, 
& [be ^] well rewarded from they ^ great to the small ; 
40 but looke that women & Childxcn you saue." 

' So they culled Ciidiz iu (iueen * the. — P. ' bo. — P. 

Elizabeth's Time.— P. •• the.— P. 






we put our 
colours on 
their walls, 


The spanyards att thai siglit tlioiigli[t] iii vainc twas 
to fight, 

hunge vpp fflaggs of truce,' yeelded the towne. 
wee marcht in presentlye, decking the walls on hye 

w/th our English coulours, w7i/ch purchast renowne. 

their houses, 


Entring the houses then of the most richest men, 
ffor gold & treasure wee serched eche day : 

in some places wee did flfind pyes bakeing in the 
meate att the ffire rosting, & ffolkes ffled away. 

and took 
their fair 
satins and 


ffull of rich merchandize euery shop wee did see, 
damaskes, & sattins, & veluetts, flPall ffaire, 

wMch souldiers mesured out by the lenglit of their 
of all comodytyes eche one had a share. 

And when 


Thus cales was taken, & our braue generall 

marcht to the markett- place where hee did stand ; 
tbere many prisoners of good account were tooke, 
56 many craued mercy, & mercy they found.^ 

pa3' their 

we burnt 
their town 

and marcht 


When our braue general! saw they delayed time, 
& wold not ransome their towne, as they said; 

w/th their faire wainescotts, their presses & bedsteeds, 
their ioyned stooles & tables, a ffire were made. 

& when the towne burned all in a fflame, 

w/th ta-ra, tan-ta-ra, away wee came ! ffillis. 

[insert] &.— P. 

- fauu'd, Rhytlimi gratia. — P. 


ei5luartr tin tl)irtr/ 

Copies of this ballad occur in the Garland of Good Will, the Col- 
leciion of Old Ballads. In Hallivvell's Descriptive Notices of 
Popular English Histories, Percy Soc. 1848, No. 63 is " The 
Story of King Edtvard 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 Ixxvii. of Berners' Gronycle 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 
syth I entred into the castell, ther is a study co?«,e to my mynde, so 
that I can nat chuse but to muse, nor I can nat tell what shall fall 
therof, put it out of my hertc I can nat : a sir, quoth the lady, ye 
ought alwayes to make good chere, to confort therwith your peple : 
god hath ayded you so in your besynes, and hath g^nien you so great 
graces, that ye be the moste douted and honoured prince in all 
christeudome, and if the kyng of scottes haue done you any dyspyte 

' In the priiitud CoUcctit/n of Old Ballads 172G, Vul. 2, p. G8, N. xi.— P. 


or damage, ye may well amende it whan it shall please you, as ye 
haue done dyuerse tynies 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 tlie swete behauyng, the perfyt wysedom, the good 
gi-ace, 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 quarell ; certerely 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 disme?}z.bred : 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 wasslit, 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 thai day the kyng 
taryed ther, and wyst nat what to do : sojutyme he ymagined that 
honour and trouth defejided 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 cowtmende 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 cojiduct, 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. 



Not long afterwards, when the king hckl his Round TaLle 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 iine 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 S"? did Hue, that vallyant 

david of Scottland to rebell did then begin ; 

the towns of Barwicke suddenlye fFrom vs he woone, 

& burnt Newcastle to the ground : thus strife begun. 

to Rose-bury ^ 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 Salisbur3^]2 

In Edward 
III.'s time. 

David II. of 


burnt New- 

and besieged 

Salisbury in 



Braue S/r williavo. Montague rode then in post,^ 
who declared vnto the K/«^ the Scottishmens hoast ; 
who like a Lyon in a rage did straight- way prepare 
ffor to deliuer iJiat wocfull'* Lady from wofull care, 
but when the Scottishmen did heare say 
Edwrtn? our king was comen ^ tltai day, 

[page nnrj] 

News is 
brought to 
and he 
jiri'iiares to 
march north, 

on which 
the Scotch 
raise the 

' Roxbury.— O.B. 

^ O.B. The lino is pared away in tlio 
MS.— F. 

haste. — O.B. 
fair.— O.B. 
come. — O.B. 



siege and 
run away, 

so that the 

alone meets 

He falls iu 
love with 

She thanks 
him for 
her foes. 

the raised their seege, & ran away with speede/ 
soe that when he did thither come 
w/th warlike trumpett, fRfFe, & drum, 
20 none but a gallant Lady did him meete ^ ; 

who ^ when hee did with greedy eyes behold & see, 
her peereles bewtye straight"* inthralld^ his mai- 

estye ; 
& euer the longer thai he looked, the more hee might, 
for in her only bewty was his harts delight. 
& humbly then vpon her knee 
shee thankett his royall maiestye 
that he had driuen danger ffrom her gate. 
" Lady," qwoth he, " stand vp in peace, 
although my warr doe now increase." 
"Jjord, keepe," qiwth. shee, "all hurt ifrom jour 
estate ^ ! " 



Edward is 
sad for love 

of the 

and tells 
her he has 

She says, 
" Tell me 

and I'll 
right it." 

" Swear 
that," says 

Now is the 'King fFuU sad in soule ; & wott you "^ 
32 all * for the loue of the faire countesse ^ Salsbury. 
shee, litle knowing his cause of greefe, did come to see 
wherefore his highnesse sate alone soe heauilye : 
''I haue beene wronged, faire dame," quoth, hee, 
36 " since I came hither vnto thee." 

" no, god forbid, my souo-ainge ! " shee sayd ^^ ; 
" if I were worthy for to know 
the cause & ground of this yo?(r woe, 
40 itt *^ shold be helpet if itt did Lye in mee.'^ " 

" Sweare to performe to me thy words, thou Lady 


to thee the sori-ow of my hart I will bewray.'^ " 

* Fear.— O.B. 

'^ met he there. — O.B. 
^ whom. — O.B. 

* (lid.— O.B. 

* enthrall.— O.B. 

« State.— O.B. ' wots not. 


« And.— O.B. 

9 Countess Of.— O.B. 
>» said she.— O.B. 
" You.— O.B. 
'2 thy Word to mo.- O.B. 
" betray.— O.B. 





" I sweare by all the Saints in heanen I will," q?(otli she swears, 

" & lett my Lord liaue no mistrust at all in me." 
" Then take thy selfe asyde," he sayd ; 
q?foth hee/ "thy bewtye hath betrayd 
& wounded ^ a Isiing w/th thy bright shining eye 

if thou doe then some mercy show, 

thou shalt expell a princes woe ; 
soe shall I line, or else in sorrow dye." i shall die." 

and the 
King says, 
" You have 
me ; 

show me 
mercy, or 

" you haue you[r] wish, my soueraine liord, effect- 
ual lye : 
52 take all the loue ^ thai I may* gfiue yout maiestye." "i give 

J b J J you fill tiie 

" but in ^ thy bewtye all my woes ^ haue then* abode." ^"^'^ ^ ^'^^^ 
" take then ^ my bewtye from my face, my gracyous 

" didst thou not sweare to grant my mil ? " 
56 " all 8 thai I may, I will fulfill." 

" then ^ for my loue let thy ^^ ivae loue be scene." 
" my Lon7, yo?ir speech I might reproue ; 
you cannott giue to me yowr loue, 
60 ffor tliai alone ^^ belongs vnto yo?{r queene : 

" But grant 
my will, 

love me," 
says the 


" But I suppose yo?tr grace did this onlye to trye " You are 

whether a wanton tale might tempt Dame SALSBMr^/e; tempf me," 

Nor ^^ ffrom jouv selfe therfore, my lecge, my stcpps Saiisbm-y. 

" I go from 

doe stray, your t^mpt- 

1 1 T ''^S talk." 

but fro?3i yo?tr tempting wanton '■* tale I goe my way." 
" O turne againe, thou '^ Lady bright ! 
come vnto me, my hartes delight ! 

' For why.— O.B. 
« Wounding.— O.B. 
« Leave.— O.B. 

* can.— O.B. 

* on.— O.B. 

» Joys.— O.B. 
' then.- O.B. 

s O.B. omits «//.— F. 

" All then.— O.B. 

'» my.— O.B. 

" O.B. omit.s alone. — F. 

'■- Not.— O.B. 

'^ wanton tempting. — O.B. 

" my.— O.B. 







asks Edward 

why he is 

grieved. 72 


" I'll per- 
suade her to 
yield to 


meets his 

tells her the 
King is 

[page 506] 
dying for 
her love, 
and urges 
her to grant 

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 Jjord & souei-aine ^ soe greeued in mind ? " 
" because tliat I haue lost the thing I cannott find." 
" what thing is that, my gracyous Jjord, that ^ you 

haue lost ? " 
*' itt is my heart, w7«'ch is neare dead twixt ^ & 

*' curst be the ^ ffire, & ffrost too, 
that causeth •'' this jour hynesse woe ! " 
" O warwicke! thou dost wrong me wonderous^ sore. 

It is thy daughter, Noble Erie ; 

tJtat heauen-bright lampe, that peereles pearle, 
w/w'ch kills my hart ; yett I doe ^ her adore." 

" If that be all, my gracyous [Lord,] ^ that workes 
yottr greefe, 

I will perswade the scornefuU dame to yeelde releefe. 

neuer shall shee my daughter be if shee refuse ; 
84 the loue & fiauor of a king may her excuse." 

thus why lye ^ warwicke went his way,^*' 

& quite contrary he did say 

when as hee did the bewtyous countesse meete : 
88 "well mett, my daugheter deere,^' " quoth hee, 
" a message I must doe to thee : 

our royall 'King most kindlye [doth thee greete ; ] 

The 'King will dye vnlesse to him thou grant ^^ thy 
92 "to loue the King, my husbands louel shall'"' remoue." 



' Sovereign King.- 

2 Which.— O.B. 

3 Betwixt.— O.B. 

* that.— O.B. 

* caused. — O.B. 
' very. — O.B. 


' do I.— O.B. 

« King.— O.B. 
■•' wise. — O.B. 
'» away.— O.B. 
" then.— O.B. 

'- less thou to him Do grant, — O.B. 
'3 must.— O.B. 





" It is right charytye to louc, my daughter deere." 
"but not ^ true loue, soc ^ charytable to ^ appearc' 
" his greatnesse may beare out the blame.^ " 
" but his kingdome cannott buy out the shame.* " 
" he craues thy loue that may bereaue thy Hffe ; 
itt is my duty to urge thee this ^ ! " 
" but not my ^ honestye to yeeld, I- wis ; 
I meane to dye a true vnspotted wiflfe." 

true to her 

" Now hast thou spoken, my daughter dcere, as I 

wold hau[e] ; 
chastity beares a golden name vnto her ^ graue ; 
& when vnto'' thy wedded Ijord thouproues vntruc, 
104 then lett my bitter cursses still thy soule pursue, 
then wi'th a smiHng cheere goe thou, 
as right & reason doth allowe, 

yett show the 'Kintj thou bearest no strumpetts 
108 "I goe, deere fiather, with ^° a trice ; 

& with ^ ^ a sleight of ffine deuice 
He cause the 'King ^^ conffesse tJmt I am kind.'^ " 

approves her 

would curse 
her if she 
were untrue. 

She must 
show tlie 
King she's 
no strumpet. 

She sajs 
bring him 

" Heere comes the Lady of my lifFe ! " the 'King did 
112 "my ffather bidds me, soucraigne hord, jour will 
and I consent if you will grant one boone to nice." 
" I gi'ant itt thee, my Lady ffaire, what-erc itt bee ! " 
" my husband is aliue, you know ; 
116 flfirst lett mee kill him ere I goe. 

She tells 
that she'll 
yield to him 
if he'll let 
her kill her 

' no.— O.B. 2 O.B. omits soe.—F. 
' For to.— O.B. 

* Shame— O.B. 

* Blame.— O.B. 

* move this. — O.B. 
' thy.— O.B. 

8 the.— O.B. 

» to.— O.B. 

•« in.— O.B. 

" by.— O.B. 

'■- King to.- O.B. 

'^ conlVss I'm not unkind. -O.B. 



" But he is 
in France." 
" No, in my 


& att your connnande ffor euer will I bee ' ! " 
" thy Inisband now in ffrance doth rest." 
" noe, noe ! hee lyes within my brest ; 

& being see nye,^ hee will my fFalshoode see." 

and she tries 
to stab 

The King 
says she 

shan't do it. 

" Then I'll 

not lie with 


" No, live on 

in honour 

with your 


I'll trouble 

you no 


w/th tliai shee started ffrom the KrH//, & tooke her 

& desperattly shee thought to rydd her selfe of Hffe. 
the ^ing vpstarted ^ ffrom his chayro her hand to 
124 "0 noble ^ing, you haue broke your word w/th me 
this day." 
" thou shalt not doe this deed," quoih. hee, 
" then will I neuer '' lye with thee." 
" now liue thou ^ still, & lett me beare the blame ; 
128 liue thou ^ in honoitr & in ^ high estate 
with thy true Jjord & wedded mate ! 
I will neuer' attempt this suite againe." ffinis. 

* I will ever be 
2 MS. mye.— F. 

» he started.— O.B. 

* never will I. — O.B, 


« No ; then live.— O.B. 

* O.B. omits thou and in. — F. 

' never will. — O.B. 


^£J m rame from tin ?i?olL)e 

This piece occurs also in the Garland of Good Will, reprinted 
by the Percy Society ; from which reprint Prof. Child draws the 
version he gives in his collection. The copy given in the Reliques 
was communicated to the editor by the late Mr. Shenstone, aa 
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 kuowes 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 liow his true and 
untrue love may be known from many another one, learns that 
she has been met making for Walsingham ; and then, asked why 
she has deserted him, explains that, though she once loved him, 
she has lost her love now he waxes old, and generally, that a 

VOL. in. II n 


woman's love is ever capricious and veering ; whereas the 

genuine passion 

is a durable fii'e 
In the mind ever burning, 
Ever sick, never dead, never cold. 
From itself never turning. 

The Filr/rimage 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' Knight of the Burning PeStle, Act II. so. 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 i\^(?t^ Book of Tablature, 1596, 
&c. It is called 'Walsingham,' 'Hei-e 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 

' It is by no means certain that position of The Knight of (he Burning 
Eeaumont had 7iot a share in the com- Vestle. — Dyce. 



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 

Visio7i of Piers Ploughman says, 

Heremj-tes on a hepe with hooked staves 

Wenten to Walsingham, and her (their) wenches after. 

" Henry VII. having kept his Christmas of 1436-7 at Norwich, 
from thence went in manner of pilgrimage to Walsingham, where 
he visited Our Lady's Church, famous for miracles; and made 
his prayers and vows for help and deliverance ; and in the 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 l)eing laid in 

Burgundy, the following lines are given: 

King Kichard'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 Psahnes and Songs of 8ion, 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 tiie reign.s of Elizabeth and James, 1653, speaking of the 

Earl of Salisbury, says : 

Many a hornpipe he tuned to his Phillis, 

And sweetlj' sung Walsingham to 's Amaryllis. 

"In Don Quixote, translated by J. Phillips, 1688, p. 273, he 
R;iys : 'An infinite number of little birds, with painted wings of 
various colours hopping from branch to branch, all naturally 
sino-ing 'Walsingham' and whistling 'John come kiss me now.'" 

Perhaps the most interesting picture of this once popular resort 


of the people of all nations is drawn by Erasmus in his colloquy 
between Menedemus and Ogygius, entitled Peregrinatio lleli- 
(jionis enjo. Ogygius, it seems, had been missing for sometime, 
for some six months, and had been given out for dead. But at 
last, to the surprise of his friend and neighbour Menedemus, he 
turns up and accounts for his eclipse. " Visi," he says, " divum 
Jacobum Compostellanum, et hinc reversus Virginem Paratha- 
lassiam apud Anglos percelebrem ; quin potius banc 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 Parathalassise." 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. Num Apostoli, inquani ? Aiebat. Deinde 
contemplans magnitudinem articuli, qui gigantis videri potuerit : 
Oportuit, inquam, Petrum fuisse virum priegrandi corpore. Ad 
banc vocem e comitibus quidam in cachinnum solutus est ; id 
certe moleste tuli. Nam si is siluisset, sedituus nos nihil celasset 
reliquorum. Eum tamen utcunque placavimus, datis aliquot 
drachmis. Ante sediculam erat tectum, quod aiebat hiberno tem- 
pore, ciuTi nix obtexisset omnia, eo subito fuisse delatum e longi- 
quo. Sub eo tecto putei duo ad summum pleni; fontis venani 
aiunt esse, sacram divse Virgini ; liquor est mire frigidus, efficax 
medicando capitis stomachique doloribus. 

" Me. Si frigida medetur doloribus capitis et stomachi, po8thac 
et oleum extinsfuet incendium. 


" Og. Miraculum audis, o bone : alioqui (|uid esset niiraculi, si 
frigida sedaret sitim ? 

" Me. Et ista sane est una pars fabulae. 

" 0//. Affirmabant, eum fontem derepeute prosiliasse e terra 
jussu Sanctissimaj Yirginis. Ego cuncta diligenter circumspiciens 
rogabani quot essent anni quod ea domuucula fuisset eo depor- 
tata ; dixit aliquot secula. Alioqui parietes, inquam, non prge se 
ferimt aliquid vetustatis. Non repugnabat. Ne coluumse quidem 
liae ligneae : non negabat esse nuper positas et res ipsa loquebatur. 
Deinde ha3C, inquam, tecti culraea arundineaque materia videtiir 
esse recentior. Assent! ebatur. Ac ne trabes quidem hoe, inquam, 
transversa nee ipsa tigna quie culmos sustinent videntur ante 
multos annos posita. Annuebat. Atqui cum jam nulla cases 
pars superesset : Unde igitur constat, inquam, banc esse casulam 
illam e longinquo delatam ? 

" Me. Obsecro quomodo sese ab hoc nodo expediebat asdituus ? 
" Og. Scilicet incunctanter ille ostendit nobis pervetustam ursi 
pellem, tignis affixam, ac propemodum irrisit nostram tarditatera, 
qui ad tam manifestum argumentum non haberemus oculos. 
Itaque persuasi, et tarditatis culpam deprecati, vertimus nos ad 
coeleste lac Beatse Virginis." 

"Among other superstitions belonging to the place," says a 
writer in Chambers's Booh of Days, " was one that the Milky 
Way pointed directly to the home of the Virgin, in order to 
guide pilgrims on their road; hence it is called the "NValsinghani 
Way, which had its counterpart on earth in the broad way wliich 
led through Norfolk : at every town that it passed tli rough, 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 husl)and, 
when his hour came. In the second volume of the Reliques, 
Percy gives "a few extracts from the housoh(dd book of Henry 


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 
Ofiferynge 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 wrackcs of Walslngam 

AVliom should I chuse 
But the Queene of Walsingam, 

to be guide to my muso ? 
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 wohies 

While the sheephardes did sleep ! 
Bitter was it, oh ! to vewe 

the sacred vyne, 
Whiles the gardiners plaicd all close, 

rooted vp by the swine. 

Bitter, bitter, oh ! to beliould 

the grasse to growe 
Where the walles of Walsingawz 

so statly did sheue. 


Such were the workes of Walsinga//t 

while ishee did stand ! 
Such are the wrackes as now do shewe 

of that holy land ! 
Levell, Levell with the ground 

the towres doe lye, 

[Fol. 206] "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 Llowen. 
Oules do scrike wher the sweetest himnes 

lately weer songe ; 
Toades and serpentfs 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 ! 
' Earl of Arundel MS. ' among Bawlinson MSS. 

"As : yee came ffrom. tlie holy Land 

of walsingham, 
mett you not with my true loue Did you not 

1 J.1 o )) meet my 

4 by the way as you cam.e r love, as you 

" liow sliold I know jouv true loue,' 
thai haue mett many a one 

as I came flFrom the holy Land, 
8 thai haue come, thai haue gone ? " 

" Shee is neither white nor browne, she is fair as 

1 , ,11 ,r> • tlie heavens, 

but as the heauens naire ; 
there is none hathc their ^ fforme diuine 
12 on the earth or the ayi'c." 

' The MS. makes the verses of 8 linos.— F. ^ j^^j.^ Qu._p. 



but has left 
me here all 

because I 
am old. 

Love Is 

never fast, 
but fickle, 

lost -with a 

" No, true 
Love burns 
ever, turns 

" 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 loued me as her lifFe 
20 & called me lier owne." 

" what is the cause shee hath left thee alone, 

& a new way doth take, 
that sometime did loue thee as her selfe, 
24 & lier ioy did thee make ? " 

" I taue 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, 

& iforgetts 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 w^'th a world of dispayre, 
36 & lost wi'th a toye. 

such is the [fate of all man] ' kind, 

Or the word loue abused, [page so7] 

vnder w/w'ch 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 turniuo-e." inniS. 

' MS. pared and broken away. — F. ? read [way of woman]. — Skeat. 


?Lf offnrusi t ' 

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 VEstolre de Seint 
Edward le Rei ; Ailred's Vita Regis Ediuardi Confessoris ; 
Ingulph's (?) ///storirt Croylandensis (she vfixs "tunc foeminarum 
pulcherrima sic corde sanctissima "), the Mailros Chronicles, 
Hoveden's Anncdes (he says, " dei cultrix et sanctse Marise semper 
virginis amatrix devota nobilis comitissa Godiva"), 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 Warivichshire), is given 
by Brompton, who " flourished " about the close of the twelfth 
century : 

De dicta quoque Godiva Comitissa qua3 ecclesiam de Stoire sub 
proraontorio Lincolnice, et multas alias construxerat, legitur, quod 
dura ipsa Coventreiam a gravi servitute et importabili tolneto Hber- 
are affectasset, Leofriciim Comitem virum suum sollicitavit, ut sauctaa 
Trinitatis Dcique genitricis Maria) intuitu, villam a praedicta solvorct 
servitute. Prohibuit Comes ne de cetero rem sibi darapnosam inaniter 
postularet. Ilia nichilominus virum indesiuenter de petitione prae- 
missa exasperans, tale responsum ab eo demum extorsit. Asceude, 
inquit, cquum tuum, et nuda a villa) initio usque ad finera populo 
congregato cquites, et sic postulata cum redieris impetrabis. Tunc 
Godiva Deo dilecta equum nuda ascendens, ac capitis crines et tricas 
dissolvens, totum corpus praeter crura inde velavit. Itinere complete 
a nomine visa ad virum gaudcns est reversa, unde Leofriciis Coven- 
treiam a servitute et malis custuniis et exaction ibus liberavit, et cartam 

' In the printed Collection of Old Ballads 1726. Vol. 2. p. 34. N. v.— P. 


suam incle confectam sigilli sui munimine roboravit, de quo adhuc 
isti pauperes mevcatores ad villam accedentes plenarie sunt experti. 

Matthew of Westminster, some hundred years after the Abbot 
of Joreval, gives the following version : 

Haec autem comitissa religiose villain Conventrensem a gravi servi- 
tute ac turpi liberare affectans, stepins coraitem virurti suum magnis 
precibus rogavit, ut sanctae Trinitatis, sanctaeqne genetricis Dei 
intuitu, villain a prsedicta absolveret servitute. Cumque conies illam 
increparet, quod rem sibi damnosam inaniter postularet, proliibuit 
constanter, ne ipsuin super hac re de cetero conveniret. Ilia contrario, 
pertinacia muliebri ducta, virum indesinenter de petitione prsemissa 
exasperans, tale responsura extorsit ab eo. Ascende (inquit) equum 
tuuni nuda, et transi per mercatuni villse, ab initio usque ad finem, 
populo congregato, et cum redieris, quod postulas, impetrabis. Cui 
comitissa respondens, ait : Et si hoc facere voluero, licentiam mihi 
dabis ? Ad quam comes, Dabo, inquit. Tunc Godyva comitissa, 
Deo dilecta, die quadam, ut praedictum est, nuda equum ascendens, 
crines capitis et tricas dissolvens, corpus suum totum, pr^eter crura 
candidissima, inde vclavit, et itinere completo, a nemine visa, ad 
virum gaudens, hoc pro miraculo liabitum, reversa est. Comes vero 
Leofricus, Conventrensem a prsefata servitute liberans civitatem, 
chartam suam inde factam sigilli sui munimine roboravit. 

Higden, some half century afterwards, says briefly : 

Ad jugem quoque instantiam uxoris suae urbeni suam Coventrensem 
ab omni tolneto prjeterquam 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 centvu-y, 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." 



lu 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 

We find, indeed, in the reign of Henry I. that the good 
Queen Maude, " that's right well loved England through " 
( Hardy ngj, 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 ' noble Erie 

of Chester, as I read, 
did ffor the cittye of conentrye 
4 many a noble deede ; 

great priuiledges for the towns 

this noble-man did gett, 
of all things did make itt soe, 
8 that they tole ffree did sitt, 

saue onlye thai for horsses still 
they did some custome paie, 
w7i/ch was gi'eat charges to the towne 
12 flfull long & many a day. 

Earl of 

made the 
cit}" of 


except a 

wherfore. his AvifFe, Godiua^ ffaire, 

did of the Erie request 
that therfore ^ he wold make itt ffree 
IG as well as all the rest. 

This his wife 
asked liim 
to take off ; 

' thiit. — O.B. The first two linos arc written as one in tlie MS. — F 
■^ Godina.— O.B. ' thereof.— O.B. 



and finding 
him one day 
in a good 

him to 
remit the 

you do 
if I will ? ' 

& when the Lady long ' had sued, 

her purpose to obtaine, 
att last her noble LorcZ ^ shee tooke 
20 w/thiu 3 a pleasant vame, 

& vnto him vfith smiling cheere 

shee did fForthwith proceede, 
intreating greatly that hee wold 
24 performe that godlye ■* deede. 

" you moue me much, fFaire dame," ^ quoth, hee, 

" yowr suite I ffaine wold shunn ; 
but what wold ^ you performe & doe, 
28 to haue the ' matter done ? " 

" Anything 
in reason," 

ehe says. 

"Won if 
yon'U do 
what I 
ask you. 
I'll take oflE 
the tax." 

"why, any thing, my Lo/r?," q?toth shee, 

"you will Wi'th reason crane, 
I will performe itt w/th good will 
32 if I my wish may ^ hauc." 

" if thou wilt grant one^ thing," he said, 

" w/w'ch I shall now require ; 
soe 1^ soone as itt is fifinished, 
36 thou shalt haue thy desire." 

" I'll do it," 
she says. 

" Then strip, 

and ride 

through the 

"comi»and what you thinke good, my Lo)7? ; 

I will ther-to agree 
on that condityon, tJiat this ^^ towne 
40 in all things '^ may bee ffree." 

" if thou wilt stripp thy clothes '^ off, 

& heere wilt '■* lay them downe, 
& att noone-daye ^^ on horsbacke ryde, 
44 starke naked through the towne, 

' So when that she long Time. — O.B. 

2 Her Noble Lord at length.— O.B. 

3 When in.— O.B. 

* goodly.— O.B. = my Fair.— O.B. 

« will— O.B. ' this.— O.B. 

might.— O.B. 

9 the.— O.B. '« as.— O.B. 

" the.— O.B. '2 For ever.— O.B. 

"* but thy Cloaths.— O.B. 
" by me.— O.B. 

'* The MS. has a tag like s to the 
e. — F. Noon-day.— O.B. 



*' they slialbe free for euo-niore. 

if thou wilt not doe see, 
more lyberty then now tliey haue 
48 I nciier will bestowe." 

the Lady att this strange demand 

Avas much abashet in minde ; 
& yett fFor to fulfill this thing 
52 shee neuer a whitt repinde. 



is taken 

abac k , 

but does not 


wherfore to all the ' oflB.cers 

of all the towne ^ shee sent, 
that they, po'ceining her good will, 
56 w7//ch for their 3 weale was bent, 

and tells the 



that on the day that shee shold ryde, 

all persons through the towne 
shold keepe their houses, & shutt their dore,"* 
60 & clap their windowes downe, 

soe that no creature, younge nor ^ old,^ 

shold in the streete ^ bee seene 
till shee had ridden [all about] ^ 
64 Through all the Cittye cleane. [page sos] 

to order that 

when she 



all houses, 

doors, and 


shall be 


so that no 

one may see 


And when the day of ryding came, 

no person did her see, 
sauing her lord . after which, time 
as the towne was euer ffree. ffinis. 

She rides. 
The town is 

' unto all.— O.K. 

'■' Of Coveiitrv.— O.B. 

» the.— O.B.' 

* and Doors.— O.B. 

* or.— O.B. 

° There is a tag at the end like an s 
in tlie ISIS.— F. 
' 8treet.s.— O.B. 
8 all about, Throughout.— O.B. 

["^ Maijdm-heaile " and " Tom Tjonc/e," j^rinted in Lo. & Hum. 
Songs, 2>- in-lS,folloiv here in the MS. p. 508.] 


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 
w^hen 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 imusual in 
ballad-poetry. In other respects it can boast no great superiority 
over other liistorical 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 PVance and her husband ; she did not make her escape from 
the country with the aid of any such pretext as that preferred in 
the text. The letters written by the deserted Edward both to 
her and to his son who was with her, urging their return, are 
still extant (see Fcedera). The Pope persuaded Charles to 
dismiss his sister from his court. Then she found refuge at the 

' 111 Hl' printed Collcct/on of old Ballad.s 172(3. Vol. 2. p. J9. X? x.— P. 


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, 132G, those whose return Edward II. had so 
earnestly urged, landed at Orwell in Suffolk, armed. The nobles, 
who some five years before had been overthrown with Lancaster, 
now flocked from their hiding-places and their places of exile to 
support this frightful insurrection of wife and son. The King's 
brothers, his cousins, and many bishops, hastened to support it. 
London murdered the King's lieutenant, and supported it. The 
elder Despenser was seized at Bristol, the burghers there turning 
against him, and there executed as a traitor. His son was seized 
in Wales, carried to Hereford, and executed as a traitor there. 
The Earl of Arundel and others were beheaded. (See Knight's 
Popular History of England.) 

The ballad alludes but briefly to the end of the tragedy : 

Then Wtas 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 rang through its roof — 

Shrieks of an agonizing King ! 

r ROUD : were the Spencers, &, of coiidityons ' ill ; tho 
all England & the ' they ruled \\owan\\\- 

likwise •* att tneir will ; lot, 

' Condition, in Old Ballads, Z'i^ ed., all iMigland & the King they ruled 

ii. 62.— F. likwiso att their will ; 

^ likewise They ruled. — O.B. Each & many Lords 

couple of lines 2 and 3, 5 and 6, 19 and & noliles of this Land 

20, is written as one in the MS.— F. through their occasion lost their liu, s. 

The true arrangement is : & none durst them withstand. 

Proud were the Spencers, The first lino very short ; only two ac- 

& of condityons ill : cents at most; the second, third, and 

fourtii lines with three accents. -Skeat. 



and the 
cause of 
many nobles' 

They raised 

Edward and 
his Queen, 

so that she 
was forced 

to escape 
into France. 

The Fi ench 
King, her 
received lier 

gave her 
leave to 
raise men, 
promised her 

4 & many Lords & nobles of this ' Land 
through their occassion ^ lost their Hues, 
and none durst thera [withstand.] ^ 

& att the last they did increase great * greefFe 

betweene the [King and Isabel] ^ 
his queene and fFaithfull wiffe, [page 509] 

soe that her liffe shee dreaded wonderous sore, 
& cast wtth[in] ^ heer present thoughts 

some present helpe therfore. 






then shee requested,'^ w/th countenance graue & 

that shee to Tnomas Beccetts tombe 
might goe on pilgramage. 

then being ioyfull to haue that ® happy chance, 
her Sonne & shee tooke shipp w^'th speede, 

& sayled into ffrance ; 

& royally shee was receiued then 

by the K-ing & all the rest 
of the peeres & noblemen ; 

and vnto him att lenght ^ shee did expresse 
the cause of her arriuall there, 
her greeffe ^° & heauinesse. 

when as her brother her greefe did vnderstand, 

he gaue her leaue to gather men 
out of ^ ' his ffamous land, 

& made his ^^ promise to aide her euermore 
as offt as shee shold stand in Neede •' 

of gold & siluer store. 

' the.— O.B. 

8 the.— O.B. 

'■^ Occasions. — O.B. 

» last.— O.B. 

^ did them withstand. 


"• care.— O.B. 

* much.— O.B. 

" Througliout.— O.B. 

* IVTS. pared away. 

Supplied from 

>■- a.— O.B. 

Old Ballads.~¥. 

13 N written over st in the MS 

« within.— O.B. ' 

requests. — O.B. 

need.— O.B. 



but when indeed lie sliold pcrforme ^ the same, But he 

~, ,-, T . . afterwards 

32 he Avas as flari* ffrom doing itt broke 

his word, 

as when shee thither came, 

& did proclaime,'^ Avhile matters yett were grecne,'* and refused 
that none on paine of death shokl goe men enlist 

for her. 

3f) to aide the Enghsh queene. 


this alteration did greatly greene the Queene, 

that downe along her comely ffacc 
they * bitter tcares were seene. 

when shee p«rciued her ffreinds forsooke her soe, 
shee knew not, ffor her saftey, 

which way to turne or goe ; 

This grieved 
her greatly. 

but through good happ, att last shee tlienn decreede and she took 

44 to Seeke in ffruitfull GeRMANYE Germany, 

some succour in ^ this neede ; 

And to Sir lohn Henault** then went shee, 
who entertained this wofull queene 
48 w/th great solempnitye ; 

where Sir 



& With great sorrow to him shoe then com|)laiiied 

of all the greefe ^ & iniuryes 
w/(/ch shee of late sustained, 
52 soe thai with weeping shee dimnd her princly 
the sunn ^ therof did greatly greefe 
that noble curteous knight, 

who made an othe he wold her champyon bee, 
56 & in her quarrell spend his bloode, 
from Avi'ong to sett her ffree ; 

^wore to bo 

and fight lor 

' sho did require. — O.B. 
2 MS. proclaino.— F. 

* whilst matters wove so. — O.E. 

* The.— O.B. 
» to.— O.B. 


« Hainault.— O.B. 

' her Griffs.— O.B. 

* MS. sunn or smni : ? for sumni. w 
E. E. SUV1W, sin. — F. jfiume not to bo 
tliought of. — Dyce. cause. — O.B. 

I I 



with all his 

"& all my frcincls with wliom I may prciiailc 
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 


And in this promise, most faithfull he was found, 

& raany Jjorcls of great account 
Avas in this voyage bound. 

soe setting fforward with a goodlye trainc, 
att lenght through gods especiall grace 

into England they came. 

lords join 



Att Harwich then when they were come a-shore,' 

of English LorJs & Barrens bold 
there came to her great store, 

w/(ich did reioce the queenes afflicted hart, 
that English nobles ^ in such sort 

did come ^ to take her part. 

Edward II. 
hears of this, 

and flies. 


when as Edwarc? herof did vnderstand, 
how that the queene w/th such a power 

was entered on his Land, 

& how his nobles were gone to take her pa/-t, 

he ffled from London 2:)irsentlye ; 
then ■* w/th a heauye hart. 

with the 
to Bristol, 

leaving the 
Bishop of 
Exeter in 



And Av/th the Spencers, did vnto Bristowe ^ goe, 

[To fortify that gallant town,] ^ 
Greatt cost he did best[owe ;] [page5io] 

leauing behind, to goucrne London towne,^ 

[The stout Bishop of E.vcfei; 

Whose Pride Avas soon pull'd down. 

' were ashore. — O.E. 
- Lords.— O.B. 
3 Came for.— O.B. 
" Even.— O.B. 
» Unto Bristol did.— O.B. 
" MS. pared away. Line supplied 
from O.B.— F. 

' (N.B. There are upwards of 22 
stanzas Avanting : Avhich are all in t/io 
Printed Copy.) — P. and are hero printed, 
Avith the leads out, from the 2nd edition 
of Old Ballads, 1726, vol. ii. p. 62. 
Aljout half a page in the MS. is left 
Llank.— F. 




[The Mayor of Lovilon, with Citizens great Store, 
The Bishop and the Sj^encers both 

In Heart they did abhor ; 
Therefore they took him Avithout Fear or Dread, 
And at the Standard in Cheapaide 

They soon smote off his Head. 

whore the 


cut his 
head off, 



[Unto the Queen this Message then Ihey sent. 
The City of London was 

At her Conimandement : 
Wherefore the Queen, with all her Company, 
Did strait to Bristol march amain. 

Wherein the Kins: did lie : 

and tell 
Isabella the 
city is hers. 

She marches 
to Bristol, 

[Then she besieg'd the City round about, 
Threatning sharp and cruel Death, 
To those that were so stout ; 
ICO Wherefore the ToAvnsmen, their Children, and their 
Did yield the City to the Queen 
For Safe-guard of their Lives : 

besieges it, 

and it is 
yield ('il up 
to her. 



[Where was took, the Story plain doth tell, 
Sir Hufjli Spencer, and with him 

The Earl of Arundel. 
This Judgment just the Nobles did set down. 
They should be drawn and hanged both. 

In Sio'ht of Bristol Towti. 

and Lord 
Arundel are 
taken , 


[Then was King Edward in the Castle there. 
And Hugh Spencer still with him. 

In Dread and deadly Fear ; 
And being prepar'd from thence to Sail away. 
The Winds were found contrary. 

They were enforc'd to stay : 

the King 
and Spencer 



[But at last Sir J\ilin Beaumont, Knight, 
13id bring his sailing Ship to Shore, 

And so did stay their Flight : 
And so these Men were taken speedily, 
And brought as Prisoners to, the Queen, 

AVhicli did in Bristol lie. 

caught as 
they were 
escaping by 

[The Queen, by Counsel of the Lordsand Barons bold. The Qncen 
To Barkleij sent the King, 

There to be kept in hold : 
I 1 2 

the Kini. 



and has 
carried from 
town to 
town on a 

jade's back, 

124 And young Hugh Spencer, that did mucli 111 procure 
Was to the Marshal of the Host 
Sent nnto keeping sure. 

[And then the Queen to Hereford took her way, 

128 With all her warlike Company, 
Wliich late in Bristol lay : 
And here behold how Spencer was 
From Town to Town, even as the Queen 

132 To Hereford did pass ; 

[Upon a Jade, which they by chance had found. 
Young Spencer mounted was. 

With Legs and Hands fast bound : 
136 A Writing- Paper along as he did go, 
Upon his Head he had to wear. 

Which did his Treason show : 

men playing 
before him. 

Then at 

Spencer is 
hanged and 

[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, 

Wliile many People did rejoice 
144 To see his strange Disgrace. 

[When unto Hereford o-n!" Woble 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. 


Edward is 

and his son 





[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 JE)) gland, 

At Fifteen Years of Age.] ffillFis.l 


Tnis 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- 

There was in his time (says that chronicler) one Athelwold, a 
nobleman of celebrity, and one of his confidants ; him the king had 
commissioned to visit Elfrida, daughter of Orgar, Duke of 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 finding everything consonant to 
general estimation, he concealed his mission from her parents, and 
procured the damsel for himself. Returning to the king, he told a 
tale that made for his own purpose, that she was a girl of vulgar and 
commonplace appearance, and by no means worthy of such a 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 one nail with another, that is, returning him deceit for deceit, he 
showed the earl a fau' countenance, and, as in a sportive manner, 
appointed a day when he would visit this far-famed lady. Terrified 
almost to death -with this dreadful pleasantry, he hastened before to 
his wife, entreating that she would administer to his safety by attir- 
in"- herself as unbecomingly as possible ; then first disclosing the 
intention of such a proceeding. But 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. 
■Ror did events happen contrary to her design ; for he fell so desperately 
in love with her the moment he saw her, that, dissembling his in- 
di'i-nation, he sent for the earl into a wood at Warewelle, under 

' 111 tlio printed Collect wii 17'2G, Vol. 2, p. 2.5, N. iv.— P. 


pretence of liiinting, and ran liim throiigh with a javelin. Wlicn tlic 
illegitimate son of the niiirdered 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 Avhich 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 tp'annical deed against the 
father by royal solicitude for the son. In expiation of this crime, a 
monastery, which was biult on tbe spot by Elfrida, is inhabited by 
a large congregation of nuns. — Stevenson's Church Ilisiorians of 

Another accoimt is given by Brompton. He narrates how 
Athelwold, after securing, by his deception, the hand of Alfrida, 
as he calls her, persuaded the king to stand godfather to their 
first-born son, " 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 Athelwold out of the way, sending him to oppose the Danes 
in the North, and perhaps getting him killed on his way to his 
post — at all events he was killed on the way — and took Alfrida 
to his arms. In vain Dunstan, who seems to have been extremely 
free of the palace, entering the royal chamber the morning after 
the espousals, asked the king, " qnrenam ilia esset quae secum in 
lecto jacebat," and chafed at the answer " regina." Edgar married 

The story is told in the following ballad with some skill, but 
in a somewhat prosy manner. 

The form adopted is the favourite one of the old romances 
(revived by Scott in the Lay of the Last Minstrel); and the 
besetting blemish of the piece— prolixity — is also an imitation of 
the old romances. 

The sympathy of the account is all on the king's side. 

Thus lie which did tlio king doceivo 
Did by deceit this deatli receive, 



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. 




VVHEN as King Edgar did gouo-ne tins land,' 

& in the strenght of his yeeres did^ stand, 

such praise was spread of a gallant dame 

w7i/ch did through England carry great fame, 

& shea a Ladaye of noble ^ degree, 

the Erie of deuonshu'es daughter was 

the 'King, w/w'ch had latetly ^ buryed th.e queene, 

& a long ^ time a wydower had ^ beene, 

bearing the praise of this ^ gallant maid, 

vpon her bewtye his loue hee laid ; 

& in his sighes * he wold often say, 

" I will goe ^ send for that Lady gay ; 

yea, I will send for that ''^ Lady bright 

w7(/cli is my treasure and delight, 

whose bewty, like to Phebus beames, 

did'' glister '^ through all Christen realmes." 

then to himselfe he wold replyc, 

saing, " how fond a prince '^ am I, 

to cast my loue soe base and Lowe, 

& on '■* a girle I doe not know ! 

Kdng Edgar will his fancy frame 

to loue '^ some peereles princely dame. 

The widowed 
King Edgar 

hears of a 



the Earl of 



and sets his 
love on her. 
He often 
savs that 

send and 
fetch her, 

but then 
thinks how 
stupid he is 
to fall in 
love with a 
girl ho has 
never seen. 
He'll find and 
love some 

' O.B. adds : 

Adown, adoum, down, doum down: 
and after lino 2, 

Call him down a. — F. 
2 he did.— O.P.. 
' hifrh.-O.B. 

* who lately had.— -O.B. 

* not a long. Printed C. — P. 
long.— O.P>. 

« O.B. omits Jiad.—Y. 

' this Praise of a. — O.B. 

" mind. Printed C— P. 

" O.B. omits ffoe. — F. 
"> this.— O.B. 
" doth. Pr'.' Copy.— P. 
•- Doth glitter.— O.B. 
" Tlie MS. has only one stroke fov the 
;.— F. 
H Upon.— O.B. 

'■• have— O.B. 



with a good 
who is more 
Then he 
again, liow 
wrong it is 

to abuse his 



wlio is more 
lovely than 

So he decides 
on Estrild, 

and sends off 
a knight, 
Ethel wold, 

to her 
to look at 

and if he 
finds her 

then he's to 
propose to 
her, for 








tlio daugliter of some ^ royal! Kr^r/, 

tliai may a worthy'^ dowry briuge,^ 

whose maclieles bewty brought in place 

may Estrilds coulor cleane disgrace. 

but senceless man, what doe I meane, 

vpon a broken reede to leane ? 

& what fond ftiry doth ^ me moue 

thus to abuse my deorest loue, 

whose visage, gracet w/th heaucnlye hue, 

doth Hellexs honor quite subdue ? 

the glory of her bewtyous pride 

[Sweet Estrild's Favour doth deride] ^ 

Then pardon m[y unsejemely speech,'' 

deere loue & lady, I beseech ! 

& ^ I my thoughts hencforth will * frame 

to spread the honore of thy name." 

then vnto him he called a \i7iujht 

w/w'ch was most trusty in his sight, 

& vnto him thus did he '-^ say : 

" to Erie Orgarus *° goe thy way, 

& '^ aske for Esteilds ^^ comely dame, 

whose b[e]wty is soe for by ^^ fame ; 

& if thou '* find her comlye grace 

as fame hath ^^ spread in euery place, 

then tell her father shee shalbe 

my crowned queenc, if shee agree." 

[page 511] 

' a.— O.B. 
« dainty.— O.B. 
^ Betere were a rycho mon 
For te spouse a god womon 

Thath hue be sum del poro, 
Tlien to br3-nge into his hous 
a proud quenu ant daungerous, 

That is sum del horc. 
"Moni mon for londe wyvctli to 
Quotli Hendyng. 
licUqiiice Aniiquce i. llo. — F. 

■' or wliat did, Pr'.' C— P. & 0.15. 
* CB. M.S. pared away.- F. swccl 

Estrild's favour d(jth deride. — P. For 
the original Estrild, see p. 466-7 above. 
— F. 

* Then pardon my unseemly speech, 
Printed Copy. — P. 

' For.— O.B. 

* will henceforth. — O.B. 
» ho did.— O.B. 

•» Orgator, Printed Copy.— P. 

" Wliere.— O.B. 

'■" Estrild.— O.V>. 

" went so far for. — O.B. 

" v<m. 0.15. 

■' did.- 0.15. 



the 'knifjlit in message did proceedc, 
& into deuonsliire Aveiit ^ w/th specde ; 
but when he saw thai ^ Ladye bright, 
he was soc rauisht att her sight, 
thai nothing cold his passyon moue 
except he might obtainc her loue. 
& 3 day & night there while ^ he stayde, 
he courted still thai ^ peereles mayd ; 
& in his suite hee showed such skill, 
thai att the lenght woon'' her good will, 
fforgetting quite the duty tho 
w/(/ch hee vnto the kingc did owe. 
then coming home "VTito his grace, 
he told him w(th dissembling face 
thai those reporters were to blame 
thai soe aduanced thai ^ maidens name ; 
" for I assure jour grace," qiiotli^ hee, 
" shee is as other women bee ; 
her bewtye of such great report, 
no better then they ^ comiHon 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 hoyre, 
perliapps some LorcZ of hyc degree 
wold verry glad ^° her husband bee ; 
& '^ if yo?tr grace wold giue consent, 

76 I cold '2 my selfe be well content 
the damsell for my Avife to take, 
for lier great Lands & liuings sake." 
the 'K.inrj, whom thus he did deceiue, 

80 incontinent did giue him leaue ; 






Tho knight 

ami is so 
with Estrild, 

that ho 
courts hei' 
for himself, 

and wins her 

Then he 
goes back to 
Edgar, and 
tells him 

that Estrild 

is nothing 

one of the 

quite unfit 
for a King ; 

but as 
she'll have 
her father's 

he, Ethel- 
wold, would 
like to 
have her 
himself, for 
her lands. 


' O.E. omits wcui.—F. 

2 the.— 0.]?. 

3 For.— 0.15. 

* while there. — O.E. 

5 this.— O.E. " he gain'd. 


the.— O.B. 
said.— O.B. 
the.— O.B. 

fniii.— o.r.. 

Tlicn. O.B. 

12 would. - (). 



The knight 


and is made 
an Earl. 
Then the 
report of 
her beauty 

who sees 
how he's 

cheated ont 
of his love, 

but puts a 
good face on 


One day 

he as-ks 
Ethel wold 
how he'd 
receive him 
if he paid him 
a vis-it. 
sad at heart, 

" You'd be 

Before the 
Ki)ig comes, 






for on tliat poynt he did not stand, 

for why, he had no • need of land. 

then being glad, he went his way,^ 

& weded straight tliai^ Lady gay; 

the fiairest creature bearing liffe, 

had this ffalse 'knight to •* his wiffe ; 

& by that mach of high degree, 

an Erie soone after that was hee. 

ere hee long time had marry ed beene, 

many ^ had her l::ewtye seene ; 

her praise was spread both farr & neere, 

soe that they 'King ^ therof did heare, 

who then in hart did plainly proue 

he was betrayed of his lone. 

though therof^ he was vexed sore, 

yett seemed he not to gTeeue therfore, 

but kept his countenance good & kind, 

as though hee bore no grudg in minde. ' 

but on a day itt came to passe 

when as the full merry was, 

to Ethelwold in sport hee said 

" I muse what cheere there shold be made 

if to thy house I wold ^ resort 

a night or 2 for princely sport." 

heratt the Erie shewed contenance glad,^ 

though in his hart he was [full sad ;] '" 

And said,'^ " your grace s[hall welcome be]'^ [page 512] 

if soe yo^tr grace will honor mee." 

when ^' as the day apointed was, 

before the 'King shold ^* thither passe, 

' not.— O.B. 

* away. — O.B, 

3 tWs.— O.B. 

^ unto.— O.B. 

« That many.— O.B. 

" The King again. 

' therefore. — O B. 

» shoiild.— O.B. 

® One stroke too many in the MS. — F. 

'« full sad.— O.B. 

" Siiying.— O.B. 

'■^ shall weleoino be. — O.B. 

'^ Then.— O.B. 

" dill. 











the Erie before-liand did prepare 

the K.ings ^ coming to declare, 

& w/th a countenance passing grim 

he called his Lady vnto him, 

saing with sad & heauje cheere : 

" I pray yon, when the 'King comes heere, 

sweet Lady, as you tender mee, 

lett yoHr attire but homclye bee ; 

& washe not thou thy Angells face, 

but doe 2 thy bcwtye quite ^ disgrace ; 

therto thy gesture soc apply, 

itt may seeme lothsome to his ■* eye ; 

for if the King shold heere ^ behold 

thy gloiroous bewtye soe extold, 

then shold ^ my lifFe soone shortened bee 

ffor my desartt ^ & trecherye. 

when to thy ffather ffirst I came, 

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, 

did thinke of thee to make his queene. 

but when I had thy person found, 

thy bewty gaue me such a wound, 

no rest nor comfort cold I take 

till yo?(r ^ sweet louc my greffe did slake ; 

& thus,^ though duty charged me 

most flfaithfull to my liord to bee, 

yett loue vpon the other side 

bade ^° for my selfc I shold prouide. 

then for my sute & service knowne,^^ 

att lenthgt I woon you for my owne ; 


prays his 

when Eilgar 
does come, 
to dress 
not wash 
her face. 

and behave 
ingly ; 

for if the 
sees her 
beaut V, 
he'll kill her 

then tells 
his wife of 

to Edgar : 
how, scut to 
woo her 
for the King, 

he fell in 
love with 
her himself. 

and woo(-d 
anil won her. 

' King Ill's. 
- so.— O.B. 

- so. — \J.1>. 

» clean.— O.B. 
* the.— O.B. 
» there.— O.B. 

« sliall.— O.B. 

' Deserts.— O.B. 
« von.— O.B. 
» that.— O.B. 
•» Bid.— O.B. 
" .'<iio\vn.— O.B. 



But for their 



he prays her 
to disguise 

She answers 
Bmiliiigly ; 

but, as it 
would be a 
shame to 
mar God's 
she dresses 
herself out 
as bravely as 

and does all 
she can to 
please the 
He falls 
madly in 
love with 

she gives 
him ten 
sweet looks 
fur one; 

and next 

he kills her 









& for jour louo & ^ wedlocke spent, 

joiir choice you need no whitt repent. 

& sith ^ my greefFe I liaue exprest, 

sweet Lady, grant me my request." 

good words sliee gaue with smihng cheere ; 

musing att ^ that which shee did heeare ; 

& casting many things in mind, 

great fault herwith ^ shec seemed to find ; 

& ^ in her-selfe shee thought itt shame 

to make thai ffoule which, god did fiframe. 

most costly robes & "^ rich, therfore, 

in brauest sort that day shee wore, 

& did all things ^ that ere shee might 

to sett her bewtye forth to sight, 

& her best skill in euery thing 

shee shewed, to entertaine the JLitig, 

wherby ^ the soe snared was, 

that reason quite firom 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, 

for euery looke shee gaue him ten ; 

wherfor tlie pei'ceiued plaine 

his loue & lookes were not in vaine. 

vpon a time ^ itt chanced soe, 

the hee wold a hunting goe, 

& into HOKSWOOD did he ryde,**^ 

the Erie on horssbake by his side. 

& there ^^ the story telleth plaine, 

that with a shaft the Ei4e was slaine. 

& when that '^ hee had lost his liflfe, 

he ^^ tooke the Lady to his ^'^ wiffe ; 

' my Love in. — O.B. 

'^ Tlien siiico. — O.B. 

=• of.— O.B. * thorewith.— O.B. 

* But.— 0.1?. « full— O.B. 

' Doing all.— O.B. 

8 Wherefore.— O.B. " MS. tino.— F. 

'" And as they through a Wood did 
ride.— O.B. 
" For so.— O.B. 
'- So that when.— O.B. 
'■'' King Edgar. — F. 
" unto.— O.B. 





he marryed her, all shame ' to shunn, 
by whom he had bcg'ott ^ a sonne. 
thus hee ^\■J^ich^ did the 'Kincj deceiue, 
did by desart this * death receiue. 
then, to conclude & make an ende, 
be true & jBTaithffull to jouv ^ ffrcind ! 


marries her, 

and begets a 
son on her. 
So the 
lost his life. 

Moral : 

Cc true to 
your friend. 

' Who marry'd licr, all irarm.— O.B. » that.— O.B. * thy.— O.B. 

2 did beget.— O.B. ■• his.— O.B. 


We know of no other copy of this ballad. 

A wealthy merchant — a burgess of four towns, one of them 
Edinburgh — makes love to the sweetheart of Christopher White, 
during Christopher's banishment. She hesitates ; she has found 
Christopher White good company; she warns the man of business 
that, if she is false to her old love, she cannot be true to him. 
But he still urges his suit, and at last — 

The Lady she took ' his ' gold in her hand, 

The tears they fell fast from her eyes ; 
Says, ' Silver & gold makes my heart to turn. 

And makes me leave good company.' 

The honey-moon, and two or three other moons over, "the 
merchants are ordered to sea" to serve against Spain (see vv. 40, 
68). Such an employment of mercantile-navy was not unfrequent 
in the later middle ages, and if discontinued, may not have been 
forgotten at the time this ballad was written (see Pictures of 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 ho M'ere false to Christopher White, 
She would never be true to me. 


And so aptly follows the moral : 

All yoiing women, a warning take, 
A warning, look, you take by mo ; 

Look that you love your old loves best, 
For in faith they are best company. 


As I walked fforth one inorni[n]ge [page r,io] 

by one place thai pleased nice, 
Avlierin I lieard a wandering wiglit, 

sais, " clmstoplaer white is good conipanyc." 

I drew me neerc, & very neere, 

till I was as neere as neere cold bee ; 

loth I was her councell to discreemc/ 
because I wanted com2:)anye. 

I overheard 
a girl 
for Cbristo- 
plicr WhiCc. 

I drew elose 
to licr. 

" Say on, say on, thou well foire mayd, 

why makest thou ^ nioane soe heauilyc ? " 
sais, " all is fFor one wandering wight, 
12 is banished fforth of his owno countryo." 

" I am the burgesse of Edenburrow, 

soe am I more of townos 3, 
I haue money & gold great store, 
16 come, sweet wench, & ligg thy loue on nice." 

the merchant pulled forth a bagg of gold 

Av/«ch had hundreds 2 or three, 
sais, " euery day throughout the weeke 
20 He count 3 as much downc on thy knee." 

" Merchant, take thy gold againe, 
a good lining twill purchase thee ; 
if I be ffalse to ChristojiliGr white, 
24 Merchant, I cannott bo true to thee." 

and she said 
that Wlritc 

An Edin- 

burgpss tells 
her he has 
plenty of 
money ; will 
she love 
him ? He 
offers her 

and 200/. or 
tiOO/. a week. 

She answers 

that If she's 
false to 
she ean't bo 
true to him. 

' ? discrceuc. — F. 

- MS. thorn.— F. 

' M.S. comt.— F. 



He tells her 
whiit wealth 
ho has, 


sais, " I liaue lialls, soe liaue I bowers," 
sais, " I haue sliipps say ling on tlie sea ; 

I ame the burgess of Edenburrowe ; 

come, sweete wench, ligge thy loue on mee. 

and offei-s to 
marry her 
next clay. 

" Come on, come, thon well faire mayde ! 

of our matters lett vs goe thronghe, 
for to-morrowe He marry thee, 
32 & thy dwelling shalbe in Edenburrough.' 

The girl 

takes his 
and agrees 
to have him. 

The Lady shee tooke this gold in her hand, 
the teares the ffell ffast flTrom her eyes ' ; 
sais, " siluer & gold makes my hart to turne, 
36 & makes me leaue good company e." 

But soon 
after their 

all the 
have to go 
to sea. 

They had not beene marryed 

not oner monthes 2 or 3, 
but tydings came to Edenburrowe 
40 thai all the merchants must to the sea. 

On this, the 
wife sends a 
love letter, 
and 100/., to 

Then as this Lady sate in a deske, 

shee made a loue letter fiPull round ; 
she mad a Xettve to Christopher white, 
44 & in itt shee put a 1001' 

She lind the letter w/th gold soe red, 

& mony good store in itt was found, 
shee sent itt to Christopher Avhite 
48 that was soe ffar in the Scotts ground. 

and bids him 
cor::u tu 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. 





But clwistoi^lier came to leeue Loudon, 
& there lie kneeled lowly downe, 

& there liee begd his pardon then, 

of our noble 'King that ware the crowne. 

He goes 
first to 

and gets the 



But when he came to his true lories house, 
which was made both of lime and stone, 
shee tooke him by the lilly white hand, 
60 sais, " true lone, you ^ are welcome home ! 

Then he 
comes to his 
old love. 

" welcome, my honey ! welcome, my ioy ! 

welcome, my true lone, home to mee ! 
ffor thou art hee that will leng[t]hen my dayes, 
64 & I know thou art good companye. 




" Chr istojyhei; I am a merchants wiffe ; 

christop/ier, the more shall be yoHr galne ; 
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 ^ 
72 shall stu.[r]e thy stumpes, thou noble dame." 

him as much 
gold as 
he wants. 


" Althoug I be a marchants wiffe, 
. & g 
into Eng'land He ffoo w/th the.' 

[page 514] 

and declares 
that she'll 
elope with 

They packet vp both siluer & p[late,] 

siluer & gold soe great plentye ; 
& they be gon into litis England, 
80 & tlie marchant must them neuc/' see. 

So the}- pack 

up all the 



and are off to 


' MS. j-o"; — i'\ ofp. ol3; iuid tlic writinrj lias porif^liod, 

- MS. k'rtrr. — F. iind part of the paper is lu'okon away at 

^ The MS. is pared away at tlir boltom the top of p. 614. — F. 



When the 
comes back 
from sea, his 
tell him 
how his wife 


And when tlie merchants they came home, 
their wines to eche other can say, 

"heere hath beene good christophey white, 
& he hath tane thy wiffe away ; 

has run 
away with 

'■ They hane packett vp spoone & plate, 

silner & gold great plenty, 
& they be gon into litle England, 

& them aofaine thow mnst neuer see." 

" Well,'' 
says the 
" 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 monrne for that like-some Ladye 
92 that Christopher white hath tane ffrom mee. 

but she gave 
me fair 
notice, so I 

" Bnt one thing I mnst needs confesse, 

this lady shee did say to me, 
' if shee were ffalse to chTistojjher white, 
96 shee cold neuer be true to mee.' " 

Moral : 
love your old 
loves best ! 


All yonng [wo] men, a warning take ! 

a warning, looke, you take by mee ! 
looke tJiat you loue yo^r old loues best, 

for infaith they are best companye. 



(Bnttnt JBil50*' 

'^ " A BALLETT iutituled ' 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 
ThreadlavG Poets, 1G08. (Percy Soc. reprint, p. 44.) 

Franlc. — 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 

' This Song is in Print, and commonly nut in tlie first three (xlitions. 
intith'd " ^'^neas tho Wandering Prinee - Prom Cliappell's Popular Music, i. 

of Troy." — P. Printed in t lie fourth 370-1. The C]Uotation.s have been already 
edition of the Reliques, vol. iii. p. 240; given by him, p. 260-1. — F. 

K K 2 


lamentably loving, — to the tune of Queen Dido." At a later 
date, Sir Eobert Howard (speaking of himself) says: 

In my younger time I have been delighted with a ballad for its 
sake ; and 'twas ten to one but my muse and I had so set 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 

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 ^neas (the Wandering Prince's 
address at this time was " an isle in Grraecia " ) to inform him of 
the poor lady's decease, and how with her last breath she praj^ed 
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 fjxin 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 necessit}^, and professes himself content to die. His 
hour comes at once. 


And thus as one being in a trance, 

A multitude of ugly fiends 
About this woeful prince did dance ; 

Ho had no help of any fi-ionds. 
His body then they took away, 
And no man knew his d^nng day. 

So that even an inquest could not be held over him. 

In the jEneid 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 Phcenician in the region or quarter 

of those 

Qui sibi Ictum 
Insontes peperere manu, lucemque perosi 
Projecero 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 ^neas ardentem et torva tucntem 
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 corripiut sese, atque inimica refugit 
In ncmus umbriferum ; confux ubi pristiuus illi 
Rcspondut curis, sequatque Sichseus amorem. 
Nee minus ^neas, casu percussus iniquo. 
Prosequitur lacrimaus longc, et miseratur taintem. 

Ovid in the third book of his Fasti describes an appaiition of 

Dido, but it is revealed, not to -^neas, but to Dido's sister Anna, 

who is at the time the welcome guest of ^neas in Italy, to warn 

her of Lavinia's jealousy. 

Nox erat ; ante torum visa est adstare sororis 

Squalenti Dido sanguinoleuta comd, 
Et ' Fuge ne dubita, moestum fuge,' dicere, ' tectum.' 

The door creaked opportunely; and Anna, alarmed, escaped 
through the window, and finally threw herself into the river 




After the 
Trojan war, 

lands at 
Dido makes 
him a sump- 
tuoiis feast. 

and at it 

asks him to 
tell her the 
storj' of his 

This he does. 

Fo sweetly 
and patheti- 
cally that all 

and at last 
Dido is 
to ask him 
to stop. 

VV HEN ' Troy towne for ten yeeres warr 
"vv/thstood the greekes in manfull wise, 
yett did their foes encrease soe fiast, 
4 that to resist none ^ cold snffise ; 

wast ly ^ those wall[s] ^ thai were soe good, 
& come now growes where Troy towne stoode. 

^neas, wandring prince of Troy, 
8 when he fFor land long time had sought, 
att last arriued ^ w/th great ioy, 

to mighty carthage walls was bronght, 
where dido queene with s[u]mptuous feast 
12 did entertaine that wandering guest. 

And as in hall att meate the sate, 

the qneene, desirous newes to heare 
of thy vnhappy 10 yeeres warr, 
16 " declare to me, thou troian deere, 
thy ^ heauy hap, & chance soe bad, 
that thou, poore wandering prince, hast had." 

And then anon this comelye 'knight, 
w/th words demure, as he cold well, 

of his vnhappy ten yeeres warr 
soe true a tall ^ begun to tell, 

w/th words sooe sweete & sighes soe deepe, 

tlmt oft he made theru all to weepe ; 

And then a 1000 sighes he ffeiht,^ 

& euery sigh brought teares amaine, 
that where he sate, the place was wetfc 
28 as though he had scene those warrs againe ; 
soe that the Queene w/th ruth therfore 
said, " worthy prince, enough ! no more ! " 



' Although or albeit. — P. now added 
aftei' when liy P. — F. 
- nought. — P. 
s MS. wastly.— F. waste lie.— P. 

■* walls. — P. * Arriuing.^ — P. 

« The— P. ' tale.— P. 

* fot. olim pro feteht. vid. Bible. 
2 Sam. 9. 5. item 1 K5' 9. 28, &c.— P. 







all take 

sweet rest, 
save Dido, 

who cannot 

but always 
weeps and 


And then the darkesome niglit drew on, At night 

& twinkling starres on skye was ' spread,^ 
& 3 he his dolefull tale had told. 

euery "* one were layd in bedd, 
where they full sweetly tooke their rest, 
sane only didos boyling brest. 

This sillye woman neucr slept, 

but in her chamber all alone, 
as one vnhappye, alwayes wept. 

vnto the walls shee made her moane 
that she shold still desii^e in vaine 
the thing that slice cold not obtaine. 

And thus in greefFe shee spent the night 

[Till twinkling starres] ^ in skye were ffledd,** Tn the 


[And now bright Phebus mornling beames [page 5i5] she hears 

[Amidst they] clouds appeared redd. 
[Then tidings] came to her anon 
[How that the] Teoian shipps we[r]e gone.''^ 

^ And then the queene with bloody kniffe 

did armee, her hart as hard as stone ; 
yett something loth to loose her liiFe, 

in wofull wise shee made her mono ; 
then rowling on her carfull ^ bed, 
With sighes & sobbs these words shoe sayd : 

that the 
Trojan ships 
are gone. 

She seizes 
a knife ; 

but before 



' were. — P. 

2 the skye bespread. — P. 
' when. — P. •* then every. — P. 

* I'iired away in the MS. Tlie brack- 
eted parts of the next four lines are 
torn away. — F. 

8 Till twinkling starres in the .skye 

were tiled. — P. 
' And now bright Phebus morning 
Amids the clouds appeared red, 
Then tidings came to her anon 
How that the Trojan .Sliippw were 
gone. Qu. — P. 

^ And then the Queen with bloody 
Did arm her heart &c. 
Yet something «&;c. 
In woful wise &c. 
Then rowling on &e. 
AVith sighs &c.— P. 
" caro-fulJ, as in Piers Plowman's 
Credo : 

And al they songen o songo 
Tliat sorwe was to heren ; 
They cricden alle o cry, 
A karcfid note. — F. 



she laments 
her sad fate. 



" wretclied dido quecne ! " sliee said,' 
" I see thy end approchetli neere, 

ffor liee is gone away fFrom. thee 

■whom thou didst loue & hold soe dere. 

what, is he gone, & passed by ? 

hart, prepare thy selfe to dye ! 

Then she 
calls on 
and stabs 

" Though reason sais thou shouldest fforbeare, 

to 2 stay thy hand fiFrom bloudy stroke, 
yett ffancy sais thou shalt not ffeare '^ 
64 who ffettereth thee in cupids yoke. 

come death ! " q-itoth 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 * the same,^ 
which, shee sustaind in mournfull teene, 

^neas being shipt & gone, 
72 whose fflatery caused all her mone. 

Her funeral 
is costly, 

and her 

sisters and 
bewail her. 

Her sister 
a letter, 

Her ffunerall most costly made, 

& all things ffinisht mournefullye, 
her body £&ne in mold was laid, 
76 where itt consumed speedilye : 

her sisters teares her tombe bestrewde, 

he[r] ^ subiects greeife their kindnesse shewed. 

Then was -i^neas in an He 
80 in grecya, where he stayd long space, 

wheras her sister in short while 
writt to him in ^ his vile disgrace ; 

In speeches bitter to his mind 
84 shee told him plaine, he was vnkind : 

' sra'd shoe. — P. • 

■' And.— P. 

' bids thee not to fiar.— P. 

■• did [end].— P. 
* smart. — P. 
6 Her.— P. 




" ffalse liarted wretch," quoth, sliec, " thou, art 

& traitorously thou hast betraid 
\Tito thy lure a gentle hart 

w/i/ch vnto thee much welcome made, 
my sister deere, & carthage loy, 
whose ffolly bred her deere annoy. 

calling him 
a false- 



" Yett on her deathbed when shea lay, 

shee prayd for thy p/'osperitye, 
beseeching god that euery day 

might breed thy great fFelicitye. 
thus by thy meanes I lost a fireind : 
heauens send thee such an v[n]timely ^ end ! " 

saying that 
Dido prajed 
for his 

but her 
sister wishes 
him an un- 
timely end. 


When he these lines, fFull flfraught w/th gall, 
perused had, and wayed them right, 

his Losty ^ coTU'age then did ifall ; 
& straiglit appeared in his sight 

Queene didoes Ghost, both grim & pale, 

w/a'ch made this vallyant souldier for to quaile. 

>33neas, on 
reading this. 

is cast down ; 

and Dido's 





"^neas," quoth, this gastly ghost, 
" my whiole delight when I did line ! of all men I loued most, 
my fiancy & my will did giue ; 

ffor Entertainment I the gaue ; 

vnthankefuUy thou didst me grauc ; 

him for his 


" Therfore prepare thy fflitting soule 
to wander with me in the aire, 

where deadly grceffe 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 ^ ! " 


his soul to 
fly howling 
about the 
air with her. 

His death is 
at hand. 

' luitimc'ly. — P. 

" ? Lusty or Lofty.— F. 

thy life is done. — Child's Bctllads. 



^neas prays 
for a respite. 



" stay a wliile, tliou [lovely sprite !] ^ 

be not soe hasty to coniiay 
my soule into eternall night, 

where itt shall neere behold bright day ! 
O doe not ffrowne ! thy angry looke 
hath made my breath my liiFe fforsooke. 

[page 516] 

but all in 
vain ; 


" But woe is me ! all is in vaine, 
& booteles is my dismall crye ! 

time will not be recalled againe, 
nor thon surcease before I dye. 

O lett me Hue, & make amends 

to some of thy most deerest ffreinds ! 

and seeing 
she is 

he is content 
to die. 



" But seeing thou obdurate art, 
& 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 

what Lott to me thou wilt partake.^ " 

Ugly fiends 
around Mm, 

and carry ofE 
his body. 


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. ffinis. 

' stay a while thou gentle sprite, 
Be not so hasty to conuay. 
Query. — P. 

MS. pared away. — F. lovely sprite. — 

- to admit, to share : to extend parti- 
cipation. " So Spencer." see JolinsV — P. 


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.^ 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 OfficHs (III. 10), 
and by others elsewhere. 

iN Stately Roome sometime did dwell A Roman 

a man of worthy ^ ffam.e, gentleman 

who had a Sonne of ffeatures rare/ had a son, 

4 Alphonso called by ^ name. Aiphonso, 

when hee was growTie & come to age, 

his ffather thought itt best 

to send his sonnes ^ to Athens iFaire, whom ho 

8 where wisdomes Schoole did rest. Atiiens 

' In fI>o print/'d Collection of Old ikl- ^ Noble— O.B. 

lads, 1726, Vol. 2, p. 145.— P. ' seemly Shape— O.B. 

- See Kfftr and Grime, vol. i. p. 3.5.'), * was his. — O.B. 

1. 46, and note •*. " Son. — O.B. 



to learn 

where a 
took charge 
of him 
whose son, 

was so like 

that they 
were only 
known apart 
by their 

The j'ouths 
love one 


a beautiful 

He sent him vnto Athens towne,^ 

good letters for to learne ; 
a place to boord him with delight 
12 his fFreinds did well discerne ; 

a noble hniglit of Athens towne 

of him did take the charge, 
who had a sonne Ganselo cald, 
IC iust of his pitch and age. 

In stature & in person both, 

in ffauor, speech, and fface, 
in quahty & condityon el-ce,^ 

the greed in enery case ^ ; 
soe like they were in all respects, 

the one vnto the other, 
they were not knowne, but by their names, 

of ffather nor ^ of mother. 





And as in fiauor they were found 

alike in all respects, 
euen soe they did most deerly loue, 

as proued by good efiects. 
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 
Alplionso to 
go with him. 



vpon a time itt chanced soe, 

as ffancy did him moue, 
that hee wold visitt for delight 

his Lady and his loue ; 
& to his true and ffaithfull flTrcind 

he did declare the same, 
asking of him if hco wold see 

that tfaii'c & comely dame. 

' And when he was to Athens come. 

■-' Conditions. — O.B. 
••' Phice.— O.B. 






Alplionso did tlierto agree, 

& wttli Ganselo went 
to see the Lady whom ' hee loued, 

w/iich bred his disconteut : 
ffor when he cast his christall eyes 

vpon her angells ^ hue, 
the bewty of /7mt Lady bright 
[Did strait] ^ his hart subdue. 


and falls in 
love with 
the lady, 



[His gentle Heart so wounded ''] was 

wi'th that ffaire L[ady's'*] face 
that affterward hee daylye liued 

in sad & woefull case ; 
& of his greeffe he knew not how 

therof ^ to make an end, 
ifor that hee knew the Ladyes loue 

was yeelded to his ffreind. 

[page 517] 

and becomes 
very sad. 

as he knows 
she's his 



Thus being sore pcrplext in mind, 

vpon his bed hee lay 
like one which^ death & deepe dispaire 

had almost worne away, 
his ffreind Ganselo, that did see 

his greeffe and great distresse, 
att lenght requested ffor to know 

his cause of heauinesse. 

He takes to 
his bed. 

as one like 
to die. 

nsks the 

w/th much adoe att lenght he told 

the truth vnto his IJ'reind, 
who did release ^ his inward woe 
68 w/th comfort ® in the end : 

and on 
hearing it, 

which.- 0.15. 
Angel. — O.Ij. 
O.B. MS. jiiircd away. — F. 


Tlici'cforo.— O.E. 
wlioin. — O.n. 
relieve- C). J), 
to. -O.B. 



at once gives 
his love up 
to liis friend, 


" take courage then, deere freind ! " q^toth liee ; 

" thongli shee tlirougli loue be mine, 
my riglit I will resigne to tliee, 

the Lady shalbe thine. 

tells bim to 
put on his 

and marry 
the lady. 



" You know our fFauors ^ ai'e alike, 

our speech alike ^ likwise ; 
this day in mine apparrell then ^ 

you shall your selfe disguise, 
& unto church then shall you goe 

directly in my stead ; 
soe ^ though my ffreinds suppose tis I, 

you shall the Lady wedd." 

Kext day 
does man'y 

and is taken 
to her bed. 

Alphonso was fFull ^ well apayd ; 

& as they had decreed, 
he went next '' day, & weded plaine 
84 the ladye there indeed. 

But when the nuptyall feast was done, 

& Phebus light ^ was filed, 
the Lady for Ganselo tooke 
88 Alfonso ^ to her bed. 

But in the 

Alphonso is 
to Borne, 


deception is 
found out, 



That night they spent in pleasing sort,^ 

& when the day Avas come, 
a post ffor ffaire Alfonso came 

to fieitch him home to Roome. 
then was the matter plainly proued, 

Alfonso weded was, 
& [not '"] Ganselo, to tJiat dame ; 

which, brouorht great woe, alas ! 

' Favoiir.— O.B. 

« also.— O.B. 

s O.B. omits thai. 

* Lo.— O.B. 

* so.— O.B. 


« that.— O.B. 
' quite— O.B. 

* Part of a letter, or an 7% follows o in 
the MS. — F. Alphonso.— O.B. 

» pleasant Sport.- O.B. '° O.B. 





Alfonso being gone to Roome 

witli this his lady gay, 
Ganselos ffreinds & kinred all 

in such a rage did staye 
tJiat they depriued [hini^] of his welth 

his lands "^ & rich attire, 
& banisht him their country eke ^ 

in ragre & wrathefull Ire. 





seize his 



bauish him. 



With sad & pensiue thought,'* alas ! 

Ganselo wanderd then, 
who was constrained through want to begg 

releeffe of many men. 
In this distresse oft wold he say 

" to Roome I mean to goe, 
to seeke Alfonso, my deere ffreind, 

who will releeue my woe." 

He is forced 
to beg, 



To Roome when pore Ganselo came, 

& found Alfonsoes place, 
vfhich. was soe ffamous, huge, & faire, 

himselfe in such poore case, 
he was ashamed to shew himselfe 

in that his poore array, 
saying, " Alfonso knowes me well 

if he shold ^ come this Avay ; " 

goes to 
and finds 
jilace so 
prrand that 
he daren't 
go there. 

Avherfore ^ he staid within the street. 

Alfonso then came by, 
but heeded non^ Ganselo pore, 
124 his ffreind fhat stood soe nye ; 

So he stops 
passes by, 
taking no 
notice of 

' O.B. 

- Land.— O.B. 

' quite— O.B. 

< Thoughts.— O.B. 

^ would.— O.B. 
' Tluivfoiv.— O.B. 
« uot.— O.B. 



This grieves 
Ganselo, so 

which greened Ganselo to the liart 

q?wtli hee, " and is itt soe ? 
doth proud Alfonso now disdaine 
128 his freind in need ' to know ? " 

that he 
draws his 
knife to stab 
himself ; 
but, while 

falls asleep. 



In desperatt s[ort away he went] ^ 

into a barne hard by, 
& presently he drew his k[nifFe,] 

thinking therby to dye ; 
& bitterlye in sorrow there 

he did lament & weepe ; 
& being o?ferwayd with greelFe, 

he fi'ell full ^ fast asleepe. 

[page 618] 

A murderer 

takes up the 

thrusts it 
into a man 
he has 



while soundly there he sweetly slept, 

came in a murthering theetfe, 
which. ■* saw a naked kniffe lye by 

this man soe ffull of greeffe. 
the kniffe soe bright he tooke vp straight, 

& went away amain e, 
& thrust itt in a murthered man 

which hee beflfore had slaine ; 

and then 
puts it, all 
bloody, into 

Ganselo is 
found witli 
the knife. 



And aflFterward ■'' hee went with speedc, 

& put this bloody kniffe 
into his hand, that sleeping lay, 

to saue himselfe ffrom striffe. 
which done, in hast away ^ he ran ; 

& when thai serch was made, 
Ganselo with his bloody kniffe 

was fibr the murther stayde, 


Hare i'vW. 



' And.— O.B. 

^ afterwards. — O.B. 

" tiwiiy in hu.ste.— O.B. 





And brought befor the Magistrates,' 

who did confesse most plaine 
thai hee indeed with that same krdffe 

the murthered man had slaine.^ 
Alfonso sitting there as ^ iudge, 

& kno^ving Ganselos fface, 
to saue his fFreind, did say himselfe 

was guilty in thai case. 

and tried 
for the 
He confesses 
that he 

Alphonso is 
the judge ; 
and to save 



" None," qwoth Alfonso, "killed the man, 

my lords,"* but only I ; 
& therfore sett this poore man ffree, 

& lett me iustly dye." 
thus while for death these ffaith-flTull freiiids ^ 

in striuing did proceed, 
the man before the senate came 

w/a'ch ^ did the ffacte indeed, 

vows that 
he killed 
the man. 

Just then 
the real 



Who being moued w/th remorse 

their ffaith-flfuU '^ harts to see, 
did proue * before the judges plaine 

none did the deed ^ but hee. 
thus when the truth was plainly told, 

of all sids ioy was seene ; 
Alfonso did imbrace his freind 

■which, had soe wofull beeno. 

struck with 

his own 


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 hinds, iStc. 

' Magistrate. — O.B. 

* flain.— O.B. 

» with the. -O.B. 

* Lord.— O.B. 

» One stroke too few in tlie MS.— F. 


L L 

That.— O.B. 
friendly.— O.B. 
say.— O.B. 
Fact.— O.B. 


And the tlie murtlierrer lie ' ffor telling truth 

pardoned. was p«rdoned 2 att that time, 

who afterward lamented much 
184 this ^ foule & greiuous crime, lliniS. 

' O.B. omits ke.—F. ^ Had pardon.— O.B. » His.— O.B. 

l^^ All in a greene Meadowe,^'' jprinted in ho. & Hum. Songs, j7. 114, 
folloivs here in the MS. j:>. 518-19.] 


This exquisite song is given in the Reliques from the Folio, 
" corrected by ^ another [copy] in Allan Eamsay'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 2%e Northern Lass, or the Nest of 
Fools, printed in 1632, acted somewhat earlier,^ occurs a version 
of two stanzas found neither in our Folio nor Ramsaji's Tea- 
table Miscellany. They are no doubt an imitation of one of the 
MS. versions now printed, and which have an earlier cast than 
Brome's lines. 

Peace, wayward barne ! Oh ! cease thy moan ! 

Thy farre more wayward daddy's gone, 

And never will recalled be, 

By cryes of either thee or me ; 
For should wee cry 
Uutill we dye. 

Wee could not scant his cruelty. 
Ballow, ballow, &c. 

He needs might in himselfo foresee 
What thou successively mightst be ; 

' This Song is in Allan Eamsays * "compared with" 2nd and 3rd edi- 

CoUcction call'd the Tea-table Misccl- tions of tiie Reliques; "con-ected by" 

lany, printed at Glasgow, 17'")3, in 4 ^thed. : no notice of any comparison or 

Parts. It is there call'd Lady Anno con-ection in tlie 1st ed. — F. 
Bothwell's lament. — And consists of 13 ^ Eobert Chambers, in a note to his 

Stanzas. Of wA/ch only the 11' 2'\ 3'.' Scottish Bcdluds (ed. 1829, p. 118), says 

& 7'.'^ are the same with this : — In the that it is to bo found in The Northern 

printed copy: the 2^ & 3?, are put Lass, or the Nest of Fools, 1606. — "W.C. 

3'.' & 2'.' «fe the TV' comes in 4'.'', the in- ? a misprint for 1706. the date of the 

termcdiate being omitted: — after w/t/eh reprint of Brome's play ; we cannot find 

follow 8 other. Tile last St. of this is any notice of a book or play of this 

somethwg different from the Printed. — P. name in 1606. — F. 

L L 2 



And could hee then (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, hallow, &c. 

2. Our Folio version, out of the first stanza of which a 
couplet has disappeared. 

3, 4. In John Gramble's book, 1649 A.D., a musical MS. 
belonging to Dr. Eimbault, is the copy of Balowe given in the 
left-hand column below,^ which Dr. Eimbault has allowed us to 
transcribe. By its side, on the right, w^e put the copy from 
Elizabeth Rogers's Virginal Book, the Additional MS. 10,337, 
A.D. 1658, to which Mr. Chappell has called our attention. 

[John Gamble's MS. Book, 1649 a.d.] 

Ballowe, my babe, lye still and sleepe, 
it gi'ieves 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 filither did, 
to cozen maidens, god ffbrbid ! 
butt now I ffear ihat thou willt leer 
thy ffathers fflattringe hartt to bear, 
balow &c. 

[Addit. MS. 10,337, p. 6 from the end.] 

Baloo my boy lye still and sleepe,^ 
itt grieues me sore to see the weepe : 
Wouldst thoa bee quiet ist* be as glade. 
Thy morniuge, 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 

When he began to court my loue, 
and with his sugard words did moue 
His flattering face and feigned cheare, 
To mee that tyme did not appeare. 

' 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- 
Elizabetli to the middle of the last cen- 
tury, when it was apparently written 
(pp. 132) there are two Balowcs as they 
are styled, the first The Balow Allan, the 
second Bahncr's Balow ; tliis last, is that 
commonly called Lady Botli well'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 Eamsay's edition, and several stanzas 

of his own added ; a liberty he used much 
too often in printing Scotish poems." 

Pinkerton'sMS. (temp. Car. 1. 1 6lio-49) 
is now in the possession of Mr. David 
Laing, and ho has kindly compared it 
for us with Pinkerton's text. The latter 
he declares to be " utterly worthless. In 
the MS. the ballad Balnters Balow con- 
sists of six stanzas nearly verbatim with 
the text you have given from Gamble's 
MS., 1649." 

'•^ Stops, hyphens, &c., all in the MS. 

« I should.— F. 



{John Gamble's MS. Book, 1G19 a.d.] 

•when hee beegan to court my louc, 
with sugred words hee did niee move, 
his faineinge ' fface & iflattringe leares 
thatt unto me in time apearcs ; 
butt now I see that crcwelty 
cares ueitther fFor my babe nor mee, 
balow &c. 

I caunott chose, butt euer will 
boe loyall to thy ifather still ; 
his cuninge hath parlur'd- my hartt, 
thatt I can noe waics fFram him partt ; 
in well or woe, wher-eare hee goe, 
my hartt shall nere departt him fro. 

ffarewcU ! ffarewell the fflilsestt yoiith 
that euer kistt a womans mouth ! 
lett neuer maide ere after mee 
once trust unto thy creuelty ! 
fFor crewell thou, iff once shee bow, 
wiltt her abuse, thou carstt nott how. 
balow &c. 

[Addit. MS. 10,337,^. Gfrovi the end.] 

But now I see, that Cruell hee 
Cares nether for my boy, nor mee, 
Baloo baloo. 

But thou my darlinge sleepe a while, 
and when thou wakest sweetlye smile, 
yet smile not as thy father did 

To Cuseu mads, nay god for-bid 

But yett i feare that thou willt heare 
Thy fathers face and hart still bears 
Baloo //.- II: /// 

Now by my greifs I vow and sweare 
the and all others to forbeare 
rie neuer kisse nor Cull nor Clapp 
But lull my youngling in my lapp, 
Cease hart to moane, leaue of to groane, 
and sleepe securelye hart a-lone. 
Baloo //; //; //.• 

Now by my greifs I uow & sware, 
thee and all others to fforbeare ; 
ile neitlier kiss, nor cull, nor clapp, 
butt lull my younglinge in my lapp. 
bee still my hartt, leaue off to moane, 
and sleep secuerly all alone. 

balow &e. 

5. Watson's copy in his Comic and Serious Scots Poems, 
Pt. iii. 1 7 1 1 , p. 79. It is called " Lad}^ Anne Bothwell's Balo^o" 
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. 

' ? MS. fameingc— F. " ? for purloin'd.— F. ' So in MS.— F. 

518 BALOWE. 

7. The version in Evans's Old Ballads, 1810. 'The new 

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,^ as well as in Morley's Consort Lessons, 
printed in 1599. The words (see above) and tune are together 
in John Gamble's Music Book, a MS. in the possession of Dr. 
Eimbault, (date 1649,) and in Elizabeth Eogers'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 

' This highly interesting MS. ■which is 'Queen Maries Dump' (in whoso reign 

in the library of Trinity College, Dul)lin, it was probably coinniencod) stands first 

(D. I. 21) contains a large number of the in the book. ChappcU's Popular Music, 

popular tunes of the sixteenth century, . i. 86, note ''. — 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. 18i0, 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 Both well 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 we find the inducement supposed to have been 
offered by Lady Anne's lover : 

I was too credulous at the first 
To grant thee that a maiden durst, 
And in thy bravery thou didst vaunt 
That I no maintenance should want : [!] 
Thou swear thou lov'd, thy mind is moved. 
Which since no otherwise has proved. 

" Comment is imnecessary. Can any one believe that such 

520 BALOWE. 

lines were written by or for any lady of rank ? ' 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.^ 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 Ramsay'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 : 

• The verse is accordingly altered in Lament is composed out of that -which 

K. 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, '^ \%^\^''^ altogether different, which was 

To yield thee all a maiden durst. P^\^^'^ {f^ ^^ ^J' ^"^f- " i: ii a ^. 

Thou swore for ever trae to prove, ^ ' Other portions of the baUad have 

By faith unchanged, unchanged thy love ; }^^^ ^reated m the same way. Even the 

t/, -1 ii 1 i. ii 1 •' late Professor W. E. Aytoun, not content 

But, quick as thought, the change is a.^c -Livjico^ •',, ^ '■ „ j. ,, t 

wrought "^^^^^ ^'^^^^ changes as gm for 1 

Thy lo^'s'no more, thy promise noucht Tfjf' £« j:^'!!^!^,T"Li'f ^'Lf ^^ 

^alow, my boy, lie ^ifi and sleep ! -^i.^l^^S! H^l ^f:^',!^!£'Z::^ 

It grieves me sair to see thee wcip. 

Chambers says that his " copy of the 

It grieves me sair to see thee wcip. ^^^'f\ minds," into "With fairest hearts 

are falsest minds. — W.O. 

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 woe, 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 
ofLavfs 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 xdpvaKL [5'] iv SatdaXea afffJ-os re fxiu 
KiUTidflffd T€ Kiixva. 

Se'ifj.aTt fipiirev, ova a^iavTOiai irapeicus 
dixtpi T6 neptrei' fidWe (p'lKav X*V" 

elW T€ • 5 T6K0S, oTov ex<>> ir6vov ' 
av S' oi^Tws ya\aQ7]V(f 
arfjOei'^ Kvciicrffeis eV aTepwei 
Siiifxart ■)(aXKiO'y6iJ.(p(f vvktiXuixttu 
Kvaveci) re 5v6(pC{i radeis. 
AuaXeav 5' limpde nai/ 
KS/xav fiaduav TrapLOPTOs 
KV/UOTOS OVK a\f-^(is, 

ouS' ive/j-ov <pQ6yyoiv, 

Kiijxevos 61/ TTopcpvpeq. x^oJ/'Si, irpScruirov Ka\6v. 

el 5e Toi Seifhu t6 ye SeLpbv ?iv, 

Kai Kiv ifiwu (njudruv Aeirrbj/ virelx^^ oZas' 

' Mr. Robert Chambers's opinion, if it by no means agi-eealilo to reflect upon, 

beentitledto the name, maybe eom})arod: Ho, however, afterwards saw reason to 

"The editor at first thought of excluding change his resohition, in the fine moral 

the ballad alt(jgclher from his collection, strain which pervades the unfortunate 

as, although tlie poetry is exquisitely lady's lamentations." — F. 
beautiful, the subject is one which it is '^ Al. t' f)Topt, al. i^Ou, al. fxeiSti. 



k4\oix' €i<5e ^pe<pos, 
euSeTCt) Se txoptos, 
evS4ru &fx.eTpov Kaudu ' 
jueTa^iiuAia 8e Tts (paveir], 
Zed Trdrep, 4k crio. 

o Tt 5e 6apffa\fop enos ivxofiai 
TeKv6^i BIkuv, (TvyyvuOi /jloi. 

Ed. Sckneidewin. 

Baby, sleep ! 

Your father 
has \vrongecl 

When he 
courted me, 
I did not see 
his falseness. 

but now I do. 


X)ALOW my babe, lye still & sleepe ! 
itt greeues rae sore to see thee "weepe. 
balowe my boy, tby motbers ioy, 
tby ffatber breeds me great anoy. 

balow, la-low, la-la-la, ra-row, fa-la, la-la, 

la-la, la-la-la, la-low ! 

"WTien lie began to court my lone, 
& with his sugred words me moue, 
his ffaynings 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. 


don't smile 
like your 
father did. 



Lye still my darling, sleepe awhile, 
& when thon wakest thoule sweetly smile 
but smile not as thy father did, 
to cozen maids : nay, god forbid ! 
but yett I flPeare thou wilt goe neere, 
thy fathers hart & fface to beare. 
Ballow &c. 

But I ca