'LIBRARY
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BallaDS anD Romances.
EDITED BY
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AND
FREDERICK J. FURNIVALL, M.A.
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LONDON :
N. TRUBNER & CO., GO PATERNOSTER ROW.
1868.
PREFACE
TO
THE THIRD VOLUME.
Of this third volume the Historical Ballads are the principal
feature. Though the Robiu Hood set are continued by Adam
Bell, and Young e Cloudeslee, the Arthur set by The Carle off
Carlile, the Romances and Romance-poems by Sir Degree and
Sir Cawline, yet the Historical Ballads far outweigh these in
number and importance. Starting at King Edgar, they take
us down through William the Conquerour, The Drowning of
Henery the I his Children, Edward the Third, the Seege of
Roune (1418-19), Proud where the Spencers, the Murthering
of Edward the Fourth his Sonnes, The Rose of Englande, Sir
John Butler, Bosivorth Feilde, Ladye Bessiye, 'Sir Andrew
Bartton (1511), the Wininge of Cales (1596), The Spanish
Ladies Love, to A Prophecye of James I.'s time, 1620 a.d.,
written some twenty years before the MS. was copied.
More Songs also appear in this volume than in either of the
previous ones, and include the beautiful Nut-Brown Mayde
(though in a poor text), Baloive (in which Mr. Chappell and
Dr. Rimbault have helped us), and a spirited hawking song, A
Cauilere. But the piece of chief merit is undoubtedly the fine
alliterative poem in two fitts, now for the first time printed, Death
& Liffe. The best authority on English alliterative poetry, the
vi TREFACE TO THE THIltD VOLUME.
Rev. Walter W. Skeat, has been good enough both to ' introduct '
and comment on the poem for us, and also to write us an Essay
on Alliterative Metre, which we commend to the study of our
readers.
Of the other Introductions, Mr. Hales has written all, except
those to Sir John Butler (which is by Dr. Robson), jEneas &.
Dido (by Mr. W. Chappell), and the following by Mr. Furnivall :
In olde Times paste, Thomas of Potte, The Pore Man & the
Kinge, Noiv the Springe is come, Carle off Carlile, A Cauilere,
Sir Andrew Bartton, Kinge Humber, Seege off Roune. For
the slightness of several of the Introductions we hope that our
readers will accept the excuse of other pressing engagements,
which have kept back the volume since Nov. 11, 1867, when
the text was all finished, and the MS. returned to its owners.
We again return thanks to Messrs. Skeat, Dyce and Chappell,
to Mr. G. E. Adams (Rouge Dragon), Doctors Robson and
Rinibault, and to Mr. Alfred Tennyson for a letter on the origin
of the legend of Godiva.
February 29, 1868.
Vll
CONTENTS
OF
THE THIRD VOLUME.
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY, BY THE REV. W. W. SKEA1
XO^ES
SIR CAWLINE
SIR DEGREE
DEATH AND LIFFE
ADAM BELL, CLEME OF THE
CLOUGH, AND WILLIAM OF
CLOCDESLEE
YOIW'GE CLOUDESLEE .
IN OLD TIMES PASTE
DARKESOME CELL
MARKE MORE FOOLE .
THOMAS OF POTTE
WILLIAM THE CONQUEROUR
THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I HIS CHILDREN
MIKTHERING OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES
THE FALL OF PRINCES
THE NUTT-BROWNE MAYD .
THE ROSE OF ENGLANDE .
THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE
SIR JOHN BUTLER
WILL STEWAR1 AND JOHN .
NOW THE SPRINGE IS COME
HOSwrilUH FEJLDE
PAGE
xi
xli
1
16
49
76
102
119
123
127
135
151
156
162
168
174
187
195
205
215
230
233
Vlll
CONTENTS OF THE THIRD VOLUME.
TINEAS AND DIDO
THE SQDIER
O NOBLE FESTUS
CARLE OFF CARLILE
HERO AND LEANDER
CRESSUS .
SONGS OF SHEPARDES
THE LAUINIAN SHORE
COME MY DAINTY DOXEYS
TO OXFFORDE ..
LADTE BESSIYE .
ARE WOMEN FAIRE ? .
A CAUILERE
A rROP[H]ECYE
MAUDLINE
COME, PRETTY WANTON
HEE IS A FOOLE
LULLA, LULLA!
A LOUER OFF LATE .
GREAT OR PROUDE .
THE SPANISH LADIES LOVE
SIR ANDREW BARTTON
PATIENT GRISSELL
SCROOPE AND BROWNE
KINGE HUMBER
IN THE DAYES OF OLDE
AMINTAS .
WININGE OF CALES .
EDWARD THE THIRD
AS YEE CAME FROM THE HOLYE
LEOFFRICUS (OR GODIVA)
PROUDE WHERE THE SPENCERS
KINGE EDGAR .
CHRISTOPHER WHITE .
QUEBNB DIDO .
\uih\SO AND (iANSELO
LAND
PAGE
260
263
269
275
295
301
303
308
313
315
319
364
366
371
374
385
386
387
389
391
393
399
421
431
435
441
450
453
457
465
473
478
485
494
499
507
CONTENTS OF THE THIRD VOLUME.
IX
BALOWE .
GENTLE HEARD SMAN
I AM
CORIDON .
SEEGE OFF ROUNE
SUCH A LOVER AM I
APPENDED .
GLOSSARY TO THE THREE VOLUMES
INDEX TO THE THREE VOLUMES
PAGE
515
524
529
530
532
542
544
547
573
XI
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
By the Rev. W. W. SKEAT
{Editor of " Piers Plowman.")
Nothing has more tended to obscure the rules and laws of
English prosody, than the absurd and mischievously false
terminology that has been made use of in discussing it. Whilst
it is pretty clear that it is based on quite a different system
from the Latin and Greek metres — on an accentual, that is, not
on a temporal system — we have attempted to explain its peculi-
arities by terms borrowed from the Latin and Greek, such as
trochees, dactyls, &c, and we make perpetual use of the words
long and short. The truth is, the whole terminology of English
prosody, if it is not to be misleading and fruitful in all kinds of
errors, has yet to be invented. Instead of short and long, I
think the terms soft and loud might be employed with great
advantage. Dr. Guest 1 shows clearly enough that " an increase
of loudness is the only thing essential to our English accent,"
in opposition to the theory of Mitford, that it consists rather in
sharpness of tone, though the two are often found together.
Whichever view, however, is the more correct, this at least is
certain, that, whereas the words long and short are almost sure
to mislead, the words loud and soft will by no means do so in
an equal degree ; and I shall therefore henceforth employ these
terms only. I define a loud syllable as that whereon an accent
falls, a soft syllable as an unaccented one. In German, the
terms heaving and sinking (hebung und senkung) have some-
1 Guest, Hist. Eng. Rhythms, vol. i. p. 77.
xii AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
times been employed to denote this raising and sinking of the
voice. 1
It were much to be wished that we had some genuine English
terms to supply the place of the trochee, the iambus, the dactyl,
and the anapaest. A trochee means a long syllable succeeded
by a short one ; but an English trochee is something quite
different, viz., a loud syllable followed by a soft one, and it may
even happen that the loud syllable is as rapid as the other, as
for instance in the words Egypt or impact, which have so
puzzled some writers, that they have, in despair, named them
spondees ! Were it allowable to give new names, they should
be given on the principle of representing the things meant by
help of the accents on the very names themselves. Thus a loud
syllable followed by a soft one might be called (not a trochee,
but) a Tonic ; a soft one, succeeded by a loud one, might be
called a Return ; a loud one, followed by two soft ones, might be
named (not a dactyl, but) a Dominant ; and, finally, instead
of anapaest, we might use some such term as Arabesque or
Solitaire, until a better one can be thought of ; for single words
thus accented are rare in English, the nearest approach to them
being exhibited by such words as refugee,cavalier, and serenade ;
and none of these even are free from a slight accent on the
first syllable. I feel convinced that until some such new terms
are invented, writers upon English metre will continue to say
one thing, and to mean another. I shall therefore introduce
hereafter the terms above defined, merely to save all miscon-
ception and a good deal of tedious explanation.
The Anglo-Saxon and Early English alliterative poems are,
for the most part, closely related in their structure to the
Icelandic measure called Fornyr'Salag. Their versification,
however, is often less regular, and in the poems of the four-
1 Dr. Latham, in his English Gram- way, viz., by employing algebraical
mar, gets out of the difficulty another .symbols.
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. Xlll
teenth and fifteenth centuries especially we meet with several
infringements even of the most important and cardinal rules of it
In what follows, therefore, I hope I may be understood as
speaking with reference to the Anglo-Saxon and Early English
poems only, and with reference rather to Early English than to
Anglo-Saxon ; for many remarks that are perfectly true and
important as regards these contravene the rules of Icelandic
prosody, and relate to licences that, regarded from that point of
view, would seem almost intolerable.
The principal rules of alliteration, such as we actually find
them to be from a careful survey of Early English literature,
may be very briefly stated.
Supposing the poem to be divided into short lines, 1 as e.g.
in Thorpe's editions of Csedmon and Beowulf, the following
canons will be found to hold, at least in those lines which are
of the strictest type :
1. The complete verse, or alliterative couplet, consists of
two lines, each containing two loud syllables, coupled together
by the use of alliteration.
2. The initial letters which are common to two or more of
these loud syllables are called the rime-letters. Each couplet
should, if possible, have three of these, of which tivo belong to
the first line, and are called the sub-letters ; and one, which is
called the chief-letter, to the second line.
3. The chief-letter should begin the first of the two loud
syllables in the second line. If the couplet contain only tivo
rime-letters, it is because one of the sab-letters is dropped.
4. If the chief-letter be a consonant, the sub-letters should
be the same consonant, or a consonant having the same sound.
If a vowel, it is sufficient that the sub-letters be vowels. They
need not be the same, and in practice are generally different.
1 In "Death andLiffe" and " Scotitsh answer i" the short line* of Beowulf,
ffeilde," the sections of each long line #
XIV AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
We sometimes meet with a combination of consonants, such
as sp, st, and the like, taking the place of a rime-letter. In this
case the other rime-letters often, but not always, present the same
combination, though the recurrence of the first letter only of
the combination is sometimes deemed sufficient.
These rules may be exemplified by the following examples,
in which the feet consist either of a loud syllable standing alone
(which I shall call a Tone), of a loud syllable and one soft
syllable (which I shall call a Tonic as above explained), or of a
loud syllable followed by two soft syllables, i.e. of a Dominant ;
from which it appears that the one thing essential to a foot is
its loud syllable.
(1) swi<5e gesSelige ; very happy ;
synna ne ciibon ; sins they knew not.
{Ccedmon, ed. Thorpe, p. 2. 1. 12.)
(2) hkm & foah-setl home and a high seat
Aeofena rices. of heaven's kingdom.
(C&dmon, p. 3, 1. 9.)
(3) e<5el-sta8olas the native settlements
eft gesette. might again establish.
(C&dmon, p. 6, 1. 25.)
In example (1), the rules are all fulfilled : the initial letters
of sivifte and scelige are the sub-letters ; that of synna is the
chief-letter. In example (2), the first foot of the first line has
but two syllables. In example (3), the vowel e is the rime-
letter, and there is but one sub-letter. These rules alone will
not, however, carry us very far on our way. One most impor-
tant modification of the verse may be thus explained.
Lines do not always begin with a loud syllable, but often one
or two, and sometimes (in Early English especially) even three
soft syllables precede it. These syllables are necessary to the
sense, but not to the scansion of the line. SThis complement,
which I shall call the catch, answers to the Icelandic malfylling.
The use of it is a very necessary license, and lines in which it
occurs are more common than those without it. No special
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. XV
stress should, in reading or reciting, be laid upon the syllables
of which the catch consists. The following are examples of its
use :
dome & dugefce of sway and dignity
&) rfreame benam. and joy deprived them.
(Ccedmon, p. 4, 1. 19.)
geond-)/blen/yro filled throughout with fire
&)/aer-cyle. and cold intense.
(Ccedmon, p. 3, 1. 29.)
ge-^remed ^rymme provoked bitterly,
<?rap on wrafce. he gripped in wrath.
(Ccedmon, p. 4, 1. 29.)
Here cfe, geond, <&, ge, are the catches. The third example
shows us the combination gr used as a rime-letter. I add a few
examples from Early English.
In) cuntinaunce of clothinge,
gweinteliche degyset ;
To) ^reyere and to ^enaunce
^litten heom monye ;
Bote in a) ilfayes morwnyngo
on) il/aluerne hulles,
Me bi-i/el a/erly,
A) /eyrie me thouhte ;
I) sftimberde in A sZepyng,
hit) sownede so murie.
(Piers Plowman, ed. Skeat, A. prol. 1. 24, 25, 5, 6, 10.)
I have said, in rule 2, that rime-letters are the initial letters
of certain loud syllables. In a large number of instances, the
rime-letters arc made to begin words also, such words being
chosen as commence with loud syllables, as in —
wereda wuldor-eining
wordum herigen ; (Ccedmon, 1. 3.)
Worchinge and wondringo
as the) world asketh; (Piers PL A. prol. 19.)
This is undoubtedly the best arrangement, but it cannot always
be followed ; when it is not, care should be taken that the
XVI AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
initial syllable of the word is as soft and rapid as possible, as in
gescdige and bifalle in the lines
swi8e gesaelige
synna ne cii}>on ; (Ccedm. ed. Thorpe, p. 2. 1. 12.)
Mony) ferlyes han bifalle
in a) fewe 3eres. (P. PL A. prol. 62.)
Indeed, these can hardly be considered as exceptions ; for ge~
and hi- are mere prefixes, and it is with the syllables succeeding
them that the words themselves truly begin.
The more this rule is departed from, the more risk is there
of the true rhythm of the line being unperceived.
Occasional instances may be found where rime-letters begin
soft syllables, of which I shall adduce instances ; this, however,
is decidedly bad, the fundamental principle of alliterative verse
being this, that alliteration and heavy stress should always go
together.
The second line of the couplet is nearly always the more
regular. Sometimes, but rarely, it contains three loud syllables.
In the first line, however, the occurrence of three loud syllables
is by no means uncommon. Examples :
Ayhtlic Aeofen-timber ; the joyous heavenly-frame ;
Aolmas chelde — the waters parted (he).
(Ccedmon, p. 9, 1. 23.)
/Begre/VeoJjo-beawas, fair kindly thews,
/red eallum leof — the Lord dear to all.
(Ccedmon, p. 5, 1. 29.)
Now is) ilfeede \>o il/ayden i-nomen, •
and no) mo of hem alle. (Piers Plowman, A. iii. 1.)
Another variation, not uncommon in Old English, is that each
line of the couplet is alliterated by itself, independently of the
other line. Examples :
For) James \>e ^entel
Wnd hit in his Aook
what )>is) il/ountein be-;«ench
and \>\s) rZerke dklo.
(Piers Plowman, A. i. 1.09, 1 ; see also iii. 93, vii. 57, 69.)
AN ESSAY" ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. xvii
t
The following licences are also taken :
(a) The chief-letter falls on the second loud syllable of the
line ; as in
Vn-)£uynde to heore k\m
and to) alle cristene; (P. PL A. i. 166.)
(b) Sometimes there are two rime-letters in the second line,
and one in the first, which is the converse of the usual arrange-
ment.
An example is furnished by the line —
tyle he had syluer
for his) sawes and his selynge. (P. PL A. ii. 112.)
(c) The chief-letter is sometimes omitted, which is certainly
a great blemish, and such lines of course occur but rarely.
Examples are :
I wol) worschupe \>er-wi\>
treiithe in my lyue. (P. PL A. vii. 94.)
And) beere heor brks on \>i Mc
to Caleys to sulle. (P. PL A. iii. 189.)
(d) Eime-letters sometimes begin soft syllables, even when
the soft syllable occurs in the initial catch. An obvious instance
is afforded by the line —
In G7a-)morgan with gibe
thare) ^//adchipe was evere. {Morte Arthure, 1. 59.)
(e) By a very bold licence, the chief-letter even occurs in the
initial catch of the second line. This, according to all the rules
of Icelandic prosody, involves an absurd contradiction ; but
there are not only some, but rather numerous instances of this
in Old English, and I add several examples in order that the
point may become more obvious. I could add many more.
And) nidob as Ich ev scide
in) profitable werkes. (P. PL A. i. 120.)
ber to) wonen with M»rong
cvhil) god is in heuene. (P. PL A. ii. 74.)
vol. in. a
XV111 AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
yit I) ^>reye J?e, quod j>hv$,
p&v) eharite, 31!* bou conne. (P. PI. A. vii. 240.)
God) jiuej> Aim his blessyng
)>at Ais) lyflode so swynkeb. (P. P/. A. vii. 239.)
where it should be noted that his is not without a slight em-
phasis on it, notwithstanding its position. In William and the
Werwolf this licence is rather common, and I may instance
lines 2836, 3000, 3113, 3133, 3137, 3467, 3614, 3984 as oc-
curring to me after a very slight search. One instance may
suffice ; the rest are quite as decisive :
&),/airest of alle/ason
/or) eny riche holde. (Werwolf, 2836.)
(/) Occasionally no alliteration is apparent at all. I fail to
discover any in the line,
whi tat) reniaunce fel
on) Saul and his children. (P. PL A. iii. 245.)
3^et this line is undoubtedly genuine, as appears by a collation
of MSS. See also Werwolf, 1. 5035.
In fact, a continual and oft-repeated perusal of thousands of
alliterative verses has convinced me that our old poets con-
sidered such licences quite allowable, provided that the swing
of the line was well kept up by the regular recurrence of loud
syllables. A line wholly without alliteration was quite admis-
sible as a variation, and is not to be rejected as spurious. If
however two or three irregular lines occur close together, they
may then be regarded as probably not genuine. When, for
instance, we meet with
/erne his /awe | at is so lelo,
&) s#e teche it furfrer, (P. PL ii. 31,)
and, only three lines below, come upon
when) ke6 was me fro
I) lokod and byA&de,
it is not surprising to find that these lines rest on the authority
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE TOETRY. XIX
of one MS. only, and are in all probability an interpolation. In
the same way I was first enabled to suspect the spuriousness of
1. 817-821 in Pierce the Ploughmans Crede, which lines are, in
fact, omitted in both the existing MSS. But occasional licences,
even when most bold, are scarcely to be regretted. They give
freedom to the poet, and relief to the reader, who in old times
was often a listener.
It appears further, from rules 2 and 3, that the second line
should contain but one rime-letter. The point aimed at was no
doubt this, viz., that in order to give the greater force and stress
to the syllable containing the chief-letter, it is desirable that
the second loud syllable in the second line of the couplet should
not begin with a rime-letter. Hence couplets with four rime-
letters are by no means good. Yet there are several instances
in Piers Plowman, as
In a) somer sesun
whon) softo was the sonne. (P. PL A. prol. 1.)
That I) was in a wildernesse
artiste I neuer where. (P. PL A. prol. 12.)
There is, however, no such objection to four rime-letters, if the
first three can be got into the first line of the couplet. The
following lines are very effective: —
With) r/eop r/ich and devk
and) r/mlful of siht. (P. PL A. prol. 16.)
â– Faire/loiiros/or to/6ccho
that he hi)-/6re him seyc. (Will, and Werwolf, 1. 26.)
<S%athylle &6ttlande by skylle
he) sZystys [read skyftys] as hym lykys. (Mortc Arthure, 1 32.)
As regards the number of rime-letters in a couplet, three has
generally been considered as the standard, regular, and most
pleasing and effective number; but it is not always easy to be
attained to, and hence couplets with only two are common
enough. I think it would be well worth inquiry as to whether
or not the frequent occurrence of only two rime-letters in an
a 2
XX AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
Anglo-Saxon couplet is a mark of antiquity. I imagine it will
be found to be so, 1 for it would appear that their system of
verse was but a rough one at first, and was elaborated in course
of time. It is tolerably certain, on the other hand, that the
frequent introduction of a fourth rime-letter in Early English
poems is a mark of lateness of date, as is curiously shown by
the alterations made in the Lincoln's Inn MS. of Piers Ploiv-
man, where the lines
Wende I) wydene in this world
wondres to here —
Vndur a) brod banke
bi a) Bourne syde —
I sauh a) Tour on a Toft
tritely I-maket —
have been improved (?) by altering the words here, syde, and
I-maket, into ivayte, brymme, and ytymbred respectively. 2
With regard to the complement or catch, Kask says : 3 —
" The chief-letter does not necessarily stand first in the second
line, but is often preceded by one or more short words, yet not
by such as require the tone or emphasis in reading. These
short precursory words which, though independent of the struc-
ture of the verse, are necessary to the completion of the sense,
constitute what may be called the complement, which, in
arranging verses that are transcribed continuously, we must
be careful not to confound with the verse itself, lest the allitera-
tion, the structure of the verse, and even the sense, be thereby
destroyed." This statement Br. Guest tries to hold up to
ridicule in strong terms, 4 but I take it to be perfectly sound
and correct as regards the main point at which Eask is aiming,
though requiring some limitation, for though the catch may
consist of " one or more words," it is rarely of more than two
1 Such, I find, is also Dr. Guost's s Rask's Anglo-Sa.ron Grammar, trans-
opinion ; Guest's Hist. Eng. Rhythms, lated by Thorpe, 1830, p. 136.
vol. i.p. 141. * Guest, Hist. Eng. lihythms, vol. ii.
2 See Piers Plowman, Text A, ed. p. C.
Skeat, p. xxii.
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. Xxi
syllables. The catch, as Dr. Guest points out, is not absolutely
toneless ; yet it is clear that the accented syllables which occur
in it have a comparatively lighter tone, a slighter stress, than
those in the body of the verse ; they do not attain, in fact, to
the same strength of accent as those syllables possess which
have accent and metrical ictus both, and to which special force
is lent by the use of rime-letters. Even in modern English
verse, all accents are far from being equal, much depending on
the position of words, so that we may even to some extent alter
the accent on a word by merely shifting its place. Thus if we
alter
Larger e6nstellations burning, mellow moons and happy skies,
into —
Constellations burning larger, mellow moons and happy skie-s,
we give a very different effect to the words larger and constel-
lations ; whilst in both cases the accent on mellow is com-
paratively slight. Whilst allowing to the catch, when of two
or three syllables, a slight accent, we neglect it, in scansion, as
compared with the heavier ones that follow.
In further illustration of the statement, that special stress is
given to syllables by the use of rime-letters, I may draw atten-
tion to the fact that this is true in poetry that is by no
means professedly alliterative. It was not by chance that
Shakespeare wrote —
Full fathom five thy father lies ; — -
Though thou the waters warp;
and the like ; or that Gray wrote —
Ruin seize thee, ruthless king ; —
"Weave the warp and weave the woof,
The winding sheet of Edward's race ;
or that Pope chose the words —
Puffs, powders, patches, bibles, billets-doux ;
Xxii AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
where the absurd contrast between "bibles" and "billets-doux"
is much heightened by the fact that they begin with the same
letter. It may be said that alliteration draws attention rather
to the words themselves than to their initial syllables, but in
English it comes to much the same thing, owing to our habit
of throwing back the accent, and in English poetry, accent and
alliteration go together ; or if not, the alliteration fails to strike
the ear, and has but little effect. Hardly any alliterative
effect is produced by the repetition of the w in EdivarcVs in the
above line from Gray. This is why the licence of beginning a
soft syllable with a rime-letter is over-bold and almost ruinous.
See Hyde Clarke's English Grammar, pp. 13 7-145. l
All Anglo-Saxon poetry is alliterative, and very nearly all of
it alliterative only, without any addition of rime whatever.
This is by no means the casein Icelandic; their poets delighted
in adding various complexities, such as full-rimes, half -rimes,
line-rimes, and assonances. Space would fail me to discuss
these here, nor is it necessary perhaps to do more than point,
out the very few examples of rime which are to* be found in
Anglo-Saxon.
There are some instances of full-rime in Csedmon, but they
occur in words close together, and in the same short line, as in
the lines "gleam and dream,'' "wide and side,''' &c. ; they
are found also in other poems, as "frodne and godne " in the
" Traveller's Song," " loenne and samne " in " Alfred's Metres,
&c. : see Guest, vol. i. p. 126, &c. There are also half -rimes,
as in " sar and sorge," "his boda freoeZan," &c. The most
curious example is in the Eiming Poem in the Exeter MS.,
1 Compare — Nein ! Seufzen nor und Stiihncn unci
rvcfj\bs rd t' wto. t6v re vovv rd r v/x^aT' schcucr Sklavensehritt.
el (Sophocles, (Ed. Col. 37].) (Uhland, Des Scmqcrs Find.)
Ncu patri;e validas in viscera vertite But minds of mortall men are muchell
Tires. (Virgil, Mn. vi. 833.) niard
II pietoso pastor pianse al suo pianto. And niov'd amissc with massy mucks
(Tasso, G. L. vii. 16.) unmeet regard.
. . . . aie Saite noch Gesang, (Spencer, /•'. Q. iii. 10. 31.)
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. XX111
which is written in rime throughout, the alliteration being
mostly preserved at the same time, as in
wic ofer wongum,
wennan gongum ;
lisse mid longum,
leoma getongum.
{Codex Exoniensis, ed. Thorpe, p. 353.)
See also the most extraordinary lines in the same poem (p.
354), beginning
flail mah fliteb,
flan mon hwiteS,
where there is indeed abundant proof that the Anglo-Saxons
were acquainted with rime in its modern sense.
Other examples occur in the "Phoenix" (p. 198 of the same
vol.) in the oft-quoted lines
ne) forstes fn£est
ne) fyres bl££st,
ne) h^egles hryre
ne) hrimes dryre.
Of another curious example I shall speak presently.
The following notation may perhaps prove useful for marking
the scansion of Anglo-Saxon and Early English alliterative
poems. If we denote a Tone by T, a Tonic by t, a Dominant
by d, and a catch by a line ( — ), it is easy to represent the
scansion of Csedmon, to the extent of any number of lines, by
putting a comma at the end of a line, and the mark | at the
end of a couplet. The poem begins thus :
Us is) rilit micel Tor us it is very right
baet we) rodera wi'ard That we the heaven's Warden,
wereda wuldor-cining The Glory- King of hosts,
wordum herigen, With (our) words should praise,
mddum lufien; With (our) minds should love;
he is) mdegna spt'd, He is of powers the Speed,
heafod ealra The Head of all
heah-gesceafta.' High-created (ones).
1 The accents merely mark stress ; I system of accents which regulates (ho
am obliged hero to ignore the usual length of the vowels.
Xxiv AN E;?SAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
The scansion is as follows :
— T t, — d T | d t t, t d | t d, — t T | 1 1, 1 1 | .
I have no space here to discuss CEedmon's " longer rhythms."
I cannot see that they present any difficulty. The lines have
more feet in them, and that is all. Commonly, these lines have
four feet, whereas the more usual length is just half this, or of
two feet.
With some slight modifications, the same method is applicable
to the scansion of all other existing English poems that are
written in alliterative verse. It will be found upon comparison
that the one striking and chief point of difference between
Anglo-Saxon poems, as Cajdmon's, and Early English poems, as
Piers Plowman, is this, that whereas Caedmon's poem abounds
in tonics, and has the tonic foot as its base and foundation (the
dominant being merely a variation of it), Piers Plowman is the
exact contrary, and its base is the dominant foot, for which the
tonic is occasionally employed. Beyond this there is very little
difference, excepting that in the later poems there is, as might
be expected,- a freer and more frequent use of initial catches.
There has been much discussion as to whether alliterative
poems should be printed in couplets of short lines, or in long
lines comprising two sections. It is more a matter of con-
venience of typography than anything else ; but if there be a
choice, it is better to print the later (Old English) poems in
long lines, as they are invariably so written in MSS., and it
may be allowable to print the earlier (Anglo-Saxon) poems in
short lines, because, though written as prose in the MSS.,
metrical dots occur very frequently (though seldom regularly),
which are often not separated from each other by more than
the length of a half-line. 1 Even these, however, are sometimes
1 Such, at least, has been the usual from the usual method of printing
practice with respect to Anglo-Saxon Icelandic ponns. But it should be
poems, the idea probably being taken noted that when such a poem as Piers
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. XXV
printed in long lines, and I believe this to be the least con-
fusing ; for nearly all those who have adopted short lines have
forgotten to set back the second line of the couplet (as should
always be done), and then the eye of the reader cannot detect
how the lines pal)- off.
In printing the later poems in long lines, the two parts of the
couplet (which is now but one line) become sections, as before
explained, and the pause which was formerly made at the end
of the first [short] line becomes the middle pause, marked in
the Scotish Feilde by a colon, and in Death and Liffe by an
inverted full-stop. This pause was always made, there can be
no doubt, in reciting such poems aloud, and in some manuscripts
is carefully marked throughout by a dot, though others omit it.
It is very essential to the harmony of the verse, and is worth
retaining, as it greatly assists the reader. It should be noted,
also, that the second section of the verse is almost always the
most carefully and smoothly written, and very rarely contains
more than two feet, on which account it is often shorter than
the first section. The greatest stress of all generally falls on
the first loud syllable of this section (i. e. on the one com-
mencing with the chief-letter) which is just what it should do.
This stress is heightened in many instances by the introduction
of a very short catch at the beginning of the second section,
consisting of one soft and rapid syllable.
That this is the usual rule appears from the following
analyses of the catches beginning the second sections in the 109
lines of the Prologue to Piers Plowman:
Second sections without catches, 28.
With a one-syllable catch, 67.
With a catch of two syllables, 12.
Plowman is written as prose (as in MS. lias not boon an utter and an unnecessary
Digby 102), there is the same marking mistake, adopted rather because it hap-
off into half-lines, and it may be (pies- pened to be convenient than because any
tioned whether the printing in half-lines good reason could be given for it.
XXVI
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
With a catch of three syllables, 2 ; though there may be
doubt about these ; I refer to the lines,
and —
That) Ponl precheth of hem '
I dar not) pr6ouen Were (1. 38) ;
That heore) Pariseh hath ben pore
seththe the) Pestilence tyme (1. 81).
The
In 1. 104, the catch seems to contain the chief-letter.
line is —
Cookes and heore knaues
cryen) hote pies, hote.
It should be observed further that the catch in the second
section is very frequently modified by the way in which the
first section terminates. If this ends in a Tone, a catch of one
or two syllables is required for smoothness, to make up, as it
were, a Tonic or a Dominant ; if it ends in a Tonic, the catch
should have but one syllable ; if it ends in a Dominant, the
catch should be dispensed with. 2
The earliest alliterative poem after the Conquest is, perhaps,
Layamon's Brut. In this poem, of which there are two copies
that often do not agree as to the readings, rimes are continually
found mixed up with the alliteration, without any preparation or
warning to the reader, and the scansion of it has consequently
caused some perplexity. To be sure of the right scansion, I
think that most heed should be paid to such passages as stand
the same in both MSS., and I fancy that instances may be
1 him is here emphatic ; see the
context.
2 Modern poets learn this rule by the
ear. Thus, in Lord Lyron's lines —
Know ye the laud where the cypress and
myrtle
Are) emblems of deeds that are done
in their clime ;
Where the) rage of the vulture, the love
of the turtle,
Now) melt into softness, now madden
to crime,
the words myrtle and turtle are succeeded
by a catch of one syllable ; but clime by
one of two syllables. Let the reader
change Are into Arc as, and Where tin'
into The, and see how he likes it then ;
the former of these changes is by no
means pleasing. See this worked out in
Edgar A. Poe's essay on The Rationale
of Verse, which, though very mail to-
wards the conclusion, contains some
good hints.
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. XXV'll
detected in which the rime was superadded as an after-thought,
either by the scribe or by the poet himself. The following lines
occur at p. 165 of vol. i. of Sir F. Maddeu's edition, in the
second column :
Ho was) wis and war
he) welde thes riche
al) hit hine louede
that) liucde on londe,
which lines are clearly alliterative. But in the first column,
i.e. in the other MS. copy, the first couplet is altered to —
he wes wis he wes heir
he welde that riche hcer ;
where the word hcer (here) is clearly inserted to make a rime,
though neither the sense nor the rhythm require it. The
variations between the two copies render it dangerous to theorize
on the rhythm, though we may feel tolerably confident about
the readings as far as the sense and the language are concerned.
But it seems worth remark that there is an Anglo-Saxon poem
of 20 couplets to be found in the Saxon Chronicle — the one to
which I said I should have to refer again — which presents the
same kind of mixture of alliteration and rime as is found in
Layamon. It is on the death of iElfred, the son of JEthelred,
and is entered in the Chronicle under the date 1036. 1 One
couplet is clearly rime —
siime hi man bende
siime hi man blende ;
whilst another is a fair alliterative specimen,
that hi hlission
blithe mid Criste.
Most of the lines are still less regular, but this poem ex-
hibits, I believe, the nearest approach to Layamon's rhythm
that is to be found in Anglo-Saxon, and it is on this account
that it seems worth while to mention it.
1 Grcin, Angehachsische Bibl/'othek, vol. i. p. 357. See A.-S. Chron., ed. Thorpe,
p. 294.
XXV111 AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
I now give a list of all the poems I have as yet met with
that have been written as alliterative, yet without rime, since
the Conquest. It is a very short one, but many of the poems
are of great length, most of them are of importance, and they
all possess considerable energy and vigour.
The oft-quoted statement of Chaucer, in the prologue to the
" Persones Tale," that alliterative metre was not familiar to a
southern man, deserves notice. The best examples of the
metre are to be found in poems written in the northern and
ivestem dialects. The example which seems to contain most
southern forms is the " Ploughmans Crede," which must, how-
ever, have been written after Chaucer's remark was made.
1. Layamon's Brut, about a.d. 1200. The author was a
native of Ernley on Severn. There are two texts (MSS. Cotton ;
Calig. A. ix., and Otho, C. xiii.). Both of these were edited by
SirF. Madden for the Society of Antiquaries, in 1847, in 3 vols.
8vo. (Here, however, a considerable admixture of rime is
occasionally found. It should be compared with the "Bestiary "
from MS. Arundel 292, printed in Reliquice Antiquce, vol. i.
p. 208.)
2. Seinte Marherete, about a.d. 1200. See MSS. Keg. 17.
A. xxvii., and Bodl. 34. This poem, as edited by Mr. Cockayne,
was reissued by the E. E. T. S. (Early English Text Society) in
1866. The metre is tolerablv regular.
3. William of Palerne, translated from the French by one
William, at the request of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Here-
ford, then residing at Gloucester, about A. d. 1360. The MS. is
in King's College, Cambridge, No. 13. It was printed by Sir
F. Madden for the Roxburghe Club, 1832, 4to ; and I am now
preparing a reprint of this edition for the E. E. T. S.
4. Alexander (A) ; a fragment originally written at about
the same date, preserved in the Bodleian Library (MS. Greaves,
60), now being edited by myself for the E. E. T. S. in William
of Palerne. (Sir F. Madden conjectures it to have been written
AX ESSAY OX ALLITERATIVE POETRY. XXIX
by the author of No. 3. A comparison of the language of the
poems, latety made by myself, confirms this supposition.)
5. The Vision of William concerning Piers the Plowman,
together with Vita de Bowel, Dobet, and Dobest, by William
Langland, said to be a native of Cleobury Mortimer in Shrop-
shire. Of this there are three texts at least. A. About A. d,
1362; MS. Vernon in the Bodleian, printed by Skeat for the
E. E. T. S. (1867, 8vo), and collated with MS. Harl. 875 and
several others. B. About 1366-67; first printed by Crowley
in 1550, 4to. An excellent MS. in Trin. Coll. Camb., marked
B. 15. 17, was printed by T. Wright (1842, 2 vols. 12 mo).
There are several other MSS., such as Laud 581, &c. Bb. A
text slightly altered from B, and found in MS. Bodley 814,
MS. Additional 10574, and MS. Cotton Calig. A. xi. Never
printed. C. A little later than B. MS. Phillips 8231, printed
by Whitaker (1813, 4to) ; and in several other MSS. ; as, e. g.
MS. Vesp. B. xvi.
6. Pierce the Ploughmans Crede, about a. d. 1394; first
printed by R. Wolfe (1553, 4to), and reprinted from his edition
by Crowley, Whitaker, and T. Wright. MSS. still exist ; one
in Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 3. 15, and another in MS. Bibl. Reg.
18. B. xvii. These are more correct than R. Wolfe's printed
copy, and the former has been lately printed by myself for the
E. E. T. S. (1867, 8vo). The author is evidently the same as
the author of the Ploivman's Tale, which is inserted in some
editions of Chaucer.
7. The Deposition of Richard II. (a. d. 1399). A fragment
only is known, existing in MS. Camb. Univ. Lib. LI. 4. 14 ;
printed by T. Wright for the Camden Society (1838, 4to), and
reprinted in Political Poems by the same editor. This is the
only other poem that Can be attributed to William Langland,
and I think it quite probable that he wrote it. Mr. Wright,
however, thinks differently, and the question requires much
careful investigation.
XXX AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE TOETRT.
8. Two poems, one on Cleanness, and a second on Patience,
(MS. Cotton, Nero, A. x.), printed by K. Morris for the E.E.T.S.
(1864, 8vo). The dialect is West-Midland, and Mr. Morris
supposes it to be Lancashire. The MS. can scarcely be older
than a. d. 1400.
9. The Destruction of Jerusalem, called by Warton (History
of English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 105 ; 1840) The Warres of the
Jeives. MS. Cotton, Calig. A. ii. ; MS. Camb. Univ. Lib. Mm.
5. 14 ; and elsewhere. To be edited for the Early English Text
Society.
10. Morte Arthure; about a.d. 1440. MS. in the Thornton
volume at Lincoln, printed by Halliwell (1848, 8vo), and re-
printed by Eev. G. G. Perry for the E. E. T. S. (1865, 8vo). The
scribe was archdeacon of Bedford in the church of Lincoln,
though a native of Yorkshire.
11. Alexander (B and C). There are two fragments, one
(C) preserved in MS. Ashmole 44 and MS. Dublin D. 4. 12, the
other (B) in MS. Bodley 2464. Both were printed by Steven-
son for the Eoxburghe Club (1849, 4to). The fragment C has
traces of a northern dialect, and is about a.d. 1450. But the
other is much older (probably before 1400), and its language
approaches that of fragment A (No. 4), though I hardly think
they belong to the same poem.
12. The Destruction of Troy, translated from Guido de
Colonna ; an edition is now being prepared for the E. E. T. S.,
to be published in 1868. The dialect is certainly of a Northern
tendency. The MS. is in the Hunterian museum at Glasgow,
numbered S. 4. 14. I have observed a line in it (1. 1248)
which almost entirely coincides with 1. 4212 in the Morte
Arthure, and other indications show some connection between
the two. Either they are by the same author, or one is imi-
tated from the other. The Morte Arthure seems superior to
the Troy poem, which makes the former supposition doubtful ;
but this point will no doubt be settled when the edition of the
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE TOETRY. XXxi
latter poem which is now being prepared for the E. E. T. S.
shall have been printed.
13. A poem of 146 lines, beginning —
Crist crowned king, that on Cros diciest ;
of which 27 lines are quoted by Bishop Percy (Rcl. v. ii. p. 312;
from 5th ed.) a small 4to. MS. in private hands. It is a pity
he did not quote the remaining 119 lines at the same time. He
conjectures it to be of the reign of Henry V.
14. Chevelerc Assigns, or the Knight of the Swan ; temp.
Henry VI. ; eel. Utterson (Koxburghe Club), 1820. A short
poem of 370 lines, contained in MS. Cotton Calig. A. ii., the
same, be it observed, as contains a copy of No. 9. The editor
draws attention to its having a few rimed endings, but the
author clearly did not regard them as essential. The following
list comprises all of them: where, there (12, 13); lene, tweyne
(28, 29); were, there (31, 32): swycle, leyde (158, 159); faste,
caste (166, 167); siuanes, cheynes (198, 199, and again at 350,
351); were, mysfare (237, 238); myskarrye,marye (260, 261).
There are also several assonances, such as wenden, lenger (302,
303). The following is a specimen to show the effect of the
superadded rime :
And it) wexedde in my honde
&) welled e so faste,
That I) toke the other fyue,
&) fro the fyer caste.
It is a faulty specimen of verse, upon the whole ; the alliter-
ation is not always well kept up, and many of the lines halt, as
does the fourth line of these here quoted ; unless, indeed, we
alter the whole system of accents, putting three Tonics in every
line, not counting the catches.
15. A fragment of a poem, not in very regular rhythm, about
Thomas Becket, beginning —
Thomas takes thejuelle, & .Ihesn thankos.
It is printed in the Appendix to Lancelot da Lac, ed. Steven-
son (Mai t land Club), 1839.
XXX11 AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
In the same Appendix is another short poem in this rhythm,
not very regular. It begins with the line —
When Rome is removyde into Inglande.
Of another poem we find the first line in the preface :
Quhen the koke in the northe halows his nest.
All three poems are from MS. Univ. Lib. Camb. Kk. 1. 5. the
same MS. that contains Lancelot of the Laik in Lowland Scotch.
16. The Tua Mary it Women and the Wedo ; by William
Dnnbar, about a. d. 1500; see Dunbar's works, ed. D. Laing,
vol. i. p. 61. Conybeare quotes from this in his Illustrations
of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. Ixxii. ; and shows how the author
sometimes kept up the same rime-letter throughout two couplets,
as in the following:
Silver SHouris down SHook
as the) SHeen cristal,
and) birdis SHouted in the SHaw
with their) SHrill notis ;
the) Golden Glittering GLeam
so) GLaddened their heartis,
they) made a GLorious GLee
among the) GReen boiighis.
17. Death and Life ; printed in the present work, probably
by the author of No. 18.
18. Scotish Feilde; printed in the present work, vol. i.
p. 199, written about a. d. 1513, by one of the family of the
Leghs of Baguleigh in Cheshire.
19. Ancient Scottisli Prophecies, reprinted by the Bannatyne
Club, 1833 ; some of them having been printed by Waldegrave,
1603. The alliteration is often imperfect, though some are
perfectly according to rule, and may be cited as among the
latest English specimens of this kind of verse.
Vpon) London Law
a)-16ne as I lay : —
Striueling thai st ra it place
a) strength of that lande: —
{ o
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETKY. XXX1U
Then a) chiftaine vnchosen
shal) choose for himselfe,
And) ride through the Kealme
and) Boy shal be called. (See pp. 26, 31, 35.)
20. I may add that the "Keply of Friar Daw Topias " and
"Jack Upland" (see Wright's Political Poems, vol. ii. pp. 16-
114) are more or less alliterative, and without rime.
21. There is yet at least one more poem, of which a fragment
exists in the Vernon MS. fol. 403, and which must be older
than a. d. 1400. I hardly know what it is (though it makes
mention of the baptism of Vespasian) ; but I have already called
attention to it in my " Piers Plowman," text A., p. xvii.
note.
22. See also two scraps printed in Reliqukv Antiquce, vol. i.
pp. 84, 240.
It was, in my opinion, a mere mistake, a superfluous exertion
of human ingenuity, when rimes were regularly superadded
to the alliteration, and the lines arranged in regular stanzas.
Yet some of these gallant efforts possess great merit; I
have no space for more than the names of some of the more
important. 1
1. Songs on King Edward's wars, by Laurence Minot,
about a. d. 1352, in a northern dialect. They are not all
founded on a basis of Dominants, and therefore not all of the
type now under consideration.
2. Sir Gawayne and the Grene Knijjb, about a.d. 1530,
ed. Sir F. Madden, 1839; re-ed. Morris (Early English Text
Society), 1864.
3. Golagros and Gaivayne ; and
4. Awntyrs of Arthure ; in the same vol. as Sir. F. Madden's
Gaivayne.
1 Here, again, I am speaking of of writing such poems in English is
English poetry, in which the addition very great, whence many of the speci-
of rime to alliteration makes tho poet's mens are rather short. A like objection
work a dance in fetters. The difficulty does not apply to Icelandic poetry.
VOL. III. I)
XXxiv AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY.
5. " Susanna and the Elders, or the Pistill of Susan ; " see
Select Remains of Scottish Poetry, by D. Laing, 1822.
6. Tail of Raul Coilzear ; see the same work.
7. " Saint John the Evangelist," printed in Religious Piece*,
ed. Perry (Early English Text Society), 1867.
8. The Bake of the Howlat, by Sir K. de Holande, about A. J>.
1455. Printed by Pinkerton, 1792; and for the Bannatyne
Club, 1823.
9. The prologue to book viii. of Gawain Douglas's trans-
lation of the JEneid.
10. See also three poems in the Reliq. Antiq. at p. 291 of
vol. i., and pp. 7 and 19 of vol. ii. ; and a fourth in Guest's
Eng. Rhythms, vol. ii. p. 298.
In the above poems the longer lines are of the standard
length, and have the true swing. Poems (such as those of
William Audelay) in which alliteration abounds, but which are
not of the true type, are very numerous.
These are all that I have noticed, though I dare say these
lists are not altogether complete.
It may be interesting to observe that the alliterative rhythm
is suitable for all Teutonic and Scandinavian languages. Ex-
amples from some old German dialects will be found in
Conybeare's Illustrations, at p. Ii. It is also the rhythm of the
Heliand, an Old-Saxon poem of about a.d. 840. The best
examples, both ancient and modern, are to be found in Ice-
landic, in which language they are all-abundant at the present
day.
I have before remarked that, in Anglo-Saxon, the prevalent
foot is a Tonic, but in Old English the prevalent one is a
Dominant. Something of this change may be observed in
canto xxi. of Tegner's Frithiofs Saga, written in Swedish in
1825 ; and doubtless any one writing in this metre in modern
English would have to do the same, or would find it convenient
to do so at the very least. Our older poems remind one of the
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETRY. XXXV
ringing of hammer-blows on an anvil, or the regular tramp of an
army on the march ; our later ones have often the rapidity and
impetuosity of a charge of cavalry, and a sound as of the
galloping of horses. One special characteristic belongs equally
to both, that it was evidently considered a beauty (and rightly
so) to make every line, if possible, end with a Tonic, and not
with a Tone or a Dominant. By forgetting to pronounce his
final e's, a modern reader is very apt to lose something of this
effect ; yet an analysis of the 109 lines in the prologue to the
earliest version of Piers Plowman gives the following results :
Lines ending in a Tone, 7.
Lines ending in a Dominant, 1.
Lines about which there may be doubt, 21.
Lines certainly ending in a Tonic, 80.
That is, 73 per cent, at the very lowest computation, which
is quite enough to give a very decided character to the verse.
This is the place to mention also an empirical rule, which is
the result of my own observation. In verses beginning with
such a common formula as " He saide," or " And saide," and
the like, these words sometiynes form no part of the verse what-
ever, not even belonging to the initial catch. We may well
suppose that they were uttered in a lower tone by the reciter,
who immediately after raised his voice to the loud pitch which
he had to maintain in recitation, and proceeded to give the
words of the speech which such a phrase introduced.
The same rule holds good for the words " quoth he,"
"quoth I," &c, even in the middle of a line. This accounts
for the greater length of lines wherein such phrases occur. I
may instance the following :
"And seide — â–
Hedde I) loue of the kyng,
luite woldc I recche." (Piers Plowman, A. iv. 51.)
b 2
XXXvi AN ESSAY ON ALLITEUATIVE POETRY*.
" Woltou) wedde this wommon — quod the kyng —
gif) I' wol assente ? " (Piers PI. A. iii. 113.)
I) was not wont to worche— quod a wastour —
git) wol I not higinne. (Piers PL A. vii. lo3.)
& sayd —
0) loiielye liffe,
cease thou such wordes: (Death § Liffe, 258.)
The usefulness of the rule consists in this : that the examples
of it are rather numerous, especially in Piers Ploivman.
Alliterative verse is well deserving of careful study and at-
tention. Although not altogether confined to " Gothic poetry"
— for it has been "employed by the Finlanders, and by several
Oriental nations" — it is a special characteristic of it. 1 It is the
prevailing measure in Icelandic and Anglo-Saxon, and appears
in the Old Saxon of the Heliand, as well as in the song
of " Hildibrant and Hadubrant," and in the " Wessobrunn
Prayer." 2 It has been employed by poets during some
fifteen hundred years, and is employed still. Considering it as
an English rhythm, we may fairly say that, at any rate when
unfettered by rime, it is of a bold and vigorous character, and
is marked also, in the later poems, by considerable rapidity.
This characteristic, viz. of vigour, has been very generally con-
ceded to it, but it has not often been credited with other
merits which it possesses in quite an equal degree, when em-
ployed by a skilful writer. It has much versatility, and is as
suitable for descriptions of scenery and for pathetic utterances
as it is for vivid pictures of battle-scenes or even for theological
disquisitions. See Mr. Perry's preface to Morte Arthure, p. xi.
Owing to a loss of many very convenient words of Anglo-Saxon
origin, it would be found much more difficult to compose in it at
the present day than formerly, besides the additional difficulty
arising from a want of familiarity with it ; for though the ear of a
1 Marsh, Lectures on English, 1st so- 2 Bosworth 's Anglo-Saxon Dictionary,
lies, p. . r ;;')i). pp. cxxiv, cxxvi.
AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETKT. XXXV11
modern Englishman can perceive alliteration, it is not trained to
perceive it at once, as readily as it does rimed endings. But the
metre is in itself a good one, and might still be employed by us
with effect if skilfully adapted to suitable subject-matter. The
same not overwise energy that has been bestowed upon the
attempt to naturalize hexameters, would have revived this metre
long ago, and the gain would have been greater. The verses
quoted above from Dunbar, though they are more loosely and
irregularly written than they should be, are quite sufficient to
show that something may be made of it, though I have nowhere
seen any example of it in modern English except in a few lines
of my own, some of which are quoted in tbe preface to Text A.
of Piers Plowman.
There is yet one more point too important to be disregarded.
It has often been remarked that the metre of Milton has so
influenced English writers that many a passage in modern
English prose presents a succession of nearly perfect blank
verses. There are several such in Dickens's Old Curiosity
Shop. Now this suggests that alliterative verse may have
influenced Old English prose in like manner. This is a point
which has hardly ever been considered ; but it might throw
much light on the rhythm of such prose writings. The suc-
cession of dominants would introduce a remarkable rapidity,
very different from the measured cadence, which is due to on
imitation of Milton. There is an undoubted instance of the
kind in one of Dan Jon Gaytrigg's sermons, in Religious
Pieces in Prose and Verse (ed. Perry, Early English Text
Society). There the cadence is so evident that the scribe has
in many places written it as verse, and I can safely repeat what
I have once before said, that it affords an example of " the
regular alliterative verse, perfect as regards accent, imperfect
as regards alliteration ; in fact, the very kind of metre into
which the old Piers Plowman metre would naturally dege-
XXXvill AN ESSAY ON ALLITERATIVE POETKT.
nerate." l It contains several perfect lines, alliteration and all,
such as,
Welthe oi' wandreth, whethire so betyde,
Mr. Perry has remarked that he does not see his way to
bringfino; the whole of the sermon into this form. But I am
clear that I see mine, and I coidd easily show that, with a little
close attention, very nearly the whole piece can be marked off
into well-defined lines from one end to the other, though it
occupies over thirteen pages. What makes me sure that this is
no mere fancy, is that a similar attempt to mark off other prose
pieces in the same volume failed signally. I could not find a
single true line in a whole page of it, whilst in a page of the
Sermon I found forty. Be this as it may, the hint is, I am
sure, well worth attention.
A good example of this rhythmical prose, founded on
alliterative verse at its base, appears even in Anglo-Saxon
times. The prologue to the A.-S. version of " St. Basil's Advice
to a Spiritual Son," was marked as verse by Hickes ; but its
latest editor, Mr. Norman, remarks that "although not in verse,
it (like some of the Homilies, as for instance that of St. Cuth-
bert, &c.) may be said to be a sort of alliterative prose." I
should add that the prologue is not the only part of it to which
the remark applies. I propose for it the name of Semi-
alliterative Rhythmical Prose, for it is marked rather by the
want of alliteration than by its presence, the rhythm and length
of the lines being at the same time well preserved. Or it may
be termed, with almost equal fitness, Imperfect Alliterative
Verse, as it is open to any one to call it bad verse instead of good
prose. I think that good prose is the fairer title of the two.
For the help of the student who wishes to see more of this
subject, or to form judgments about it for himself, I subjoin
the following references :
s>
1 Religious Pieces, ed. Perry, p. vi. of Preface.
AN ESSAY ON ALLITEUATIVE TOETRY. XXXIX
Guest, History of English Rhythms, vol. i. p. 142, &c.
Eask, Anglo-Saxon Grammar, tr. by Thorpe, 1830, p. 135.
Conybeare, Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. xxxvi.,&c.
Marsh, Lectures on English, 1st series, p. 546.
Craik, Hist. Eng. Literature, i. 243.
Whitaker, Preface to Piers Plowman.
Professor Morley, English Writers, i. 264.
Yercj, Reliques, ii. 298, 5th ed. 1
Vernon, Anglo-Saxon Guide, p. 135.
Warton's History of English Poetry, vol. ii.
Hyde Clarke's English Grammar, p. 137.
I may also refer him to further remarks of my own, at the
end of Mr. Perry's edition of Morte Arihure, and in my edition
of Piers Plowman, Text A. preface p. xxx. ; also to my essay
on the versification of Chaucer, at the end of the preface to the
Aldine edition, as edited by Mr. Eichard Morris (Bell and Daldy,
1865). On the more general subject of English metre, see Guest's
English Rhythms ; a Treatise on Versification, by E. W. Evans ;
and the excellent essay by W. Mitford, called An Inquiry into
the Principles of Harmony in Language, and of the Me-
chanism of Verse, 2nd ed. 1804.
1 The reader must be warned against in the alliterative metre." This is
three extraordinary misstatements in indeed a curious craze, for the allitera-
this essay, following close upon one tive metre is founded on Dominants,
another near the end of it. These are the Alexandrine on Returns. Percy
(1) that Kobert of Gloucester wrote in gives some examples, and the metre
anapaestic verse, whereas he wrote in which he selects for murdering is the
the long Alexandrine verse, containing Fnnch one, as the reader may easily
(when perfect) six Returns; (2) that the judge for himself, M'hen he finds that
French alone have retained this old the line
Gothic metre [the twelve-syllabled Le sOcces fat tofijoflrs | On enfant dC 1'aSdace
Alexandrine] for their serious poems, .
whereas we may be sure that Michael is marked by him as it is marked here.
Drayton, the author of the Polyolbion, and is supposed to consist of four
meant his poem seriously; and (3) Anap^sts! Yet one more blunder to
that the cadence of Piers Plowman be laid at the door ot the " Anapaests !
"so exactly resembles tho French Would that we were well rid of tlum,
Alexandrine, that I believe no peculiar- and that tho " longs " and " shorts were
ities of their versification can be pro- buried beside them !
duccd which cannot be exactly matched
xli
NOTES.
p. xxviii., Allit. Essay, Chaucer's lines are :
But trusteth wel, I am a suthern man,
I can not geste, rim, raw., ruf, by letter.
v. iii. p. 202, 1. 42-3, ed. Morris,
p. 16, 1. 1, 2. Sir Degree. The Affleck MS. of this Bomance is not complete.
It wants both beginning and ending, and a few other lines. Some of its
deficiencies were supplied by Mr. Laing from the Cambridge University MS.,
which contains the first 602 lines of the romance. The Affleck MS. starts
with
Knijt
Ferli fele wolde fonde
And sechen aventouris, bi ni3te and dai,
How jhe mi3te here strengthe asai ;
So did a Kny3t Sire Degarree,
Ich wille 3011 telle wat man was he.
and ends with —
" Certes, Sire, (he saide,) nai ;
Ac 3if hit your wille were,
To mi Moder we wende i-fere,
For sche is in gret mourning."
" Blethelich, (quath he,) bi Heuene King."
From line 1070 to line 1115 — the end — is printed by Mr. Laing in the
Abbot sford Club Sir Degarre (as he gives notice) from a black-letter
edition (Copland's).
The Bomance has been printed five times in editions known to us, not
four only as stated in p. 16, 1. 6, for the edition printed by John Kynge,
mentioned on p. 18 below, is noticed by Mr. Laing in these words: 'Among
Seidell's books in that [the Bodleian] Library, there is a copy of the
edition printed at London by John King, in the year 1560, 4to, 16 loaves
(Dibdin's Typographical Antiquities, vol. iv. p. 338)." Further, Mr. Laing
mentions that "the late learned Archdeacon Todd, in his ' Illustrations of
Gowrr and Chaucer,' 1 has described a fragment on two leaves containing
160 lines of this Bomance, as forming part of a Manuscript supposed to be
of the Fourteenth Century, now tho property of the Earl of Ellesmere ; but
the volume, at present, is unfortunately not accessible."
Mr. Laing also states that tho Wynkyn de Worde 4to is in 18 leaves,
and is described in Dibdin's Typ. Ant. ii. 376 ; that the mutilated Douce
transcript, apparently made from W. de Worde's edition, is dated 1564 ;
1 Tage 107, Lend. 1810, 8vo and 4to.
xlii NOTES.
and that Uttorson reprinted Copland's edition (probably about 1545)
■which is in the Garrick collection in the British Museum. — F.
p. 56, 1. 11, " noe truse can be taken," i.e. no truce, no peace can be made : —
" Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tybalt deaf to peace."
Shakespeare's Borneo §■Juliet, iii. 1.
" With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce."
Shakespeare's King John, iii. 1. — Dyce.
The linking of treasure with truse makes me hold still that the two are like
in kind, aud that my note is right. — F.
p. 135, Thomas of Potte. Ritsotf printed another version in his Ancient Songs,
1790, p. 248, from a large white letter sheet, published May 29, 1657;
among the King's pamphlets in the Museum. Its title is "The Two
Constant Lovers in Scotland ; or, a Pattern of True Love: expressed in this
ensuing Dialogue, between an Earls daughter in Scotland, and a poor
Serving-man ; she refusing to marry the Lord Fenix, which her Father
would force her to take. ; but clave to her first love Tomey o' the Pots.
To a pleasant new tune." A slightly different version of the present
Ballad was printed in 1677, for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke,
and reprinted by Ritson in his Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry, 1791,
with collations. Utterson had an undated edition printed by A. P. for
F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright. From this, collated with the 1677 ed.,
Mr. Hazlitt printed the Ballad in his Early Popular Poetry, ii. 251, with
the heading, " The Lovers Quarrel or Cupids Triumph. Being the Pleasant
History of fair Rosamond of Scotland. This may be sung to the tune of
Floras Farewel." Ritson printed a different version of the tale in his
Ancient Songs, 1790. See other bibliographical details in Halliwell's
Notices of Popular English Histories, No. 15, p. 17, 18, and Hazlitt's Early
Popular Poetry, ii. 251-2. Compare the opinions of the deceased wife of
The Knight of la- Tour Landry, ab. 1370 (p. 178-9, E. E. Text Soc. 1868)
against her daughters marrying men of a lower degree than themselves:
"I wylle not that they haue or take ony plesaunce of them that ben of lower
estate or degrez than they be of ; that is to wete, that no woman vnwedded
shalle not sette her loue vpon no man of lower or lesse degree than she is of. .
These whiche louen suche folke, done ageynste theyre worship and honoure. .
I, theyr modyr, charge and deffende them that they take no playsaunce, ne
that in no wyse sette theyr loue to none of lower degree then they be come
of. . . Also they whiche putto and sette theyr loue on thre maner of folke,
that is to wete, wedded men, prestes, and monkes, and as to seruauntes
and folk of noughte, these maner of wymmen whiche take to theyr pera-
mours and loue suche folke, I hold them of none extyme ne valewe, but
that they be more gretter harlottes than they that ben dayly at the bordell.
For many wymmen of the world done that synne of lechery but only for
nede and pouerte, or els by cause they haue ben deceyued of hit by false
counceylle of bawdes. But alle gentylle women whiche haue ynough to lyue
on, the whiche make theyre peramours or louers suche maner of folke as
before is sayd, it is by the grete ease wherin they be, and by the brennynge
lecheryc of theyr bodyos. For they knowe wel that, after the lawo of theyr
maryage, they may not haue for theyr lordes, ne to be theyr husbondes, men
of the chircho ne other of no valewe. This loue is not for to recouere ony
worship, but alio dishonour and shame." — F.
p. 151. Thorne (Twysden's X Scriptores, c. 1786) is the earliest authority for
the story told in this ballad. He brings his chronicle down to the end
of the fourteenth century, but professes to base it on Sprot, who had
written down to 1232, and whose work seems to have perished, though
there is a spurious chronicle, called Sprott's.
NOTES. xliii
I. Thorne points to Kent as the only county where the old English
custom still prevailed. He probably alludes to the law of gavelkind or
socage tenure, by which all the children shared equally. This was stipulated
for by the citizens of London {Liber Albus, ed. liiley, ii. pp. 246, 247, 504),
and undoubtedly prevailed in other parts of England besides Kent, but
gradually died out before the growing use of primogeniture. Elton says
{Tenures of Kent, p. 50) that the boJy of Kentish usages as we now possess
them was formally allowed in the 21st year of Edward I., also "The
Kentish usage was not a mere partition as it has come to be in our time, but
it was curiously mingled with a custom of borough English."
As early as Glanville's time (lib. vii. cap. 3, v. 6) socage lands only went
to the daughters, failing sons. But this, I think, was an innovation. See
Coote on A Neglected Fact in English History, p. 57, and the authorities he
cites.
II. Fitz-Stephen says ( Vita S. Thorns, p. 230), that by the custom of
Kent, a man condemned for contempt of court pays a customary fine of 40j>\
instead of 100s. as in London. This he ascribes to the burdens arising from
its exposed position.
III. There is a legal distich, which I, as a Kentish man, remember, but
cannot give a reference for, " The traitor to the bough, and his son to the
plough," implying that in cases of felony the lands of the felon did not
escheat to the crown.
IV. On the other hand, the claims of the county of Kent to be exempt
from making presentments of Englishry was disallowed in 6 Edward II.
and 7 Edward III. Yearbooks of Edward L, 30 and 31, ed. Horwood, p. xl.
— C. H. Pearson.
p. 151, 1. 4 ; p. 153, 1. 35 ; p. 155, 1. 83, 94. The Consuetudines Cantite or
Customs of Kent, are given in the Record Commission Statutes, i. 223-5.
1. that all the Bodies of Kentishmen be free, as well as the other free Bodies
of England.
2. they do not choose the King's Escheator.
3. they may give and sell lands without license asked of their Lords.
4. they may plead by Writ of the King, or Pleint, for the obtaining of their right,
as well of their Lords as of other Men.
5. they ought not to come to the common Summonee of the Eire, but only by
the Borsholder and four Men of the Borough.
6. if attainted of Felony, they lose their goods only, and their heirs shall take
their lands ; whereupon it is said in Kentish ' the Father to the Boughe, and the
Sonne to the Plough.'
7. a Felon's Wife is dowable out of his lands, and the King shall not have the
lands for a year, or wast them.
8. a mau's lands are shared between all his sons, the messuage going to the
youngot.
9. a dead man's goods shall be parted in 3 parts, 1 to pay his debts, 1 for his
children equally, the third for the widow.
10. an infant heir is taken charge of, not by the lord, but by his next of blood
to whom the inheritance cannot descend.
11. t he heir is married, not by the lord, but by his own friends.
12. the heir comes of age at 15 years.
13. the widow has £ her husband's land for dower while she is chaste, and
the widower A his wife's.
&c. &c. — F.
p. 174. The Nuttbrownc Maid. " 1558-9. John Kynge ys fyned for that he did
xliv KOTES.
prynt the nutbrowne mayde w'out lycense, ij* vj d ." Collier's Registers, i. 16.
See the note there.
p. 177, 1. 1, notes, for i tshalle read it skedle.
p. 301, Crcssus. See the " curious ballad " on " Troylus & Cressyd," from MS. Ash-
mole, 48, fol. 120, in The Marriage of Wit $ Wisdom, (Shaksp. Soc.) p. 102.
p. 374. Maudline. This ballad should have been divided into 4-line verses. It is
printed also in Early Ballads, ed. E. Bell, 1856, p. 217.— F.
p. 402. 1. 17. See Henry's answer, August 12, 5th year of his reign, in Harl.
MS. 787, leaf 58.— F.
p. 466, last line, p. 470, 1. 10. See the "Articles of Enquiry for the Monastery
of Walsingham," in Harl. MS. 791, leaf 27.— F.
p. 473. There are several charters or grants by Godiva and Leofricus in Kemble's
Codex Diplomaticus. — F.
p. 499, QuceneDido. 1564-5. A ballett intituled the Wanderynge prynce. [No doubt
the ballad printed by Percy (Keliques, iii. 244), under the title of " Queen
Dido," and which Ritson, in closer adherence to the old printed copies,
calls, "The Wandering Prince of Troy." See Ancient Songs, ii. 141, edit.
1 829.] Collier's Extracts.— F.
p. 541, The Egerton MS. gives the name of the writer (and not the copier,
seemingly), of the Sege of Bone, thus :
Thys processe made Johffn page,
Alle in raffe, 1 and not in ryme,
By cause of space he hadde no tyme;
But whenne thys werre ys at A nende,
And he haue lyffe and space, he wylle hit a-mende,
They that haue hyrde thys redynge,
To hys blysse he tham brynge
That for vs dyde vppon a tree
Say Amen for Charyte, Amen !
Explicit \> e sege of Bone. — F.
1 Raff= refuse, a confused heap, a jumble. Here it means in lines jumbled together: see
Raffle in Wedgwood. Byrne would mean regular verses with properly rimed endings.— Skeat.
Bishop i&erc^s jfolto 0i%>.
35alXati5> anfi 3iio matters.
dX«c
^r Cafolfne: 1
" This old romantic tale," says Percy, in his Introduction to the
Sir Cauline of the Reliques. "was preserved in the Editor's folio
MS., but in so very defective and mutilated a condition (not
from any chasm in the MS., but from great omission in the
transcript, probably copied from the faulty recitation of some
illiterate minstrel), and the whole appeared so far short of the
perfection it seemed to deserve, that the Editor was tempted to
add several stanzas in the first part, and still more in the second,
to connect and complete the story in the manner which appeared
to him most interesting and affecting."
The First Part of the Bishop's version concludes with the
triumphant return of Sir Cauline from his encounter with the
Eldridge Knight, and the acceptance of his love by the King's
daughter. It comprises the first 129 lines of the MS. copy ; it
consists of 189 lines. The Second Part has only one feature in
common with the latter stanzas of the MS. copy, viz., the fight
with the Giant. All its other incidents — the stolen interviews
of the lovers, their interruption by the King, Sir Cauline's
1 A strange romantic old song -very which, will account fur its being so cor-
<!< tcftive & obscure. N.J5. This socines rupted.— I',
to have been originally a Scotch Song:
VOL. III. D
2 SIR CAWLINE.
banishment, his reappearance in disguise, his death, her death —
are the Bishop's own production. Altogether, the MS. copy
contains 201 lines; that in the Reliques 392. These additional
stanzas show, indeed, an extensive acquaintance with old balladry,
and a considerable talent of imitation. Percy could write such
mimicries with a fatal facility, " stans pede in uno." Of his
capacity in this respect there is no better instance than his
Sir Cauline. For our part we prefer the Folio copy, with all its
roughness and imperfections, to the Bishop's revision, with all
its cleverness. Ever so few gold-grains are more precious than
heaps of tinsel. If one touch of nature makes the whole world
kin, one touch of affectation mars and dissolves that universal
kinsmanship. Percy's version abounds in affectations. The
general sense of unreality that pervades his interpolations and
additions reaches its climax in the concluding passage of his
Second Part, where Sir Cauline, wounded to his death in his
fight with the Soldan, is recognised by his lady.
It is my life, my lord, she sayes,
And shriekte and swound awaye.
Sir Cauline juste lifto up his eyes
When he heard his ladye crye,
ladye, I am thine enrae true love,
For thee I wisht to dye.
Thon giving her one partinge looke,
He closed his eyes in death e,
Ere Christabelle, that ladye milde,
Begane to drawe her breathe.
But when she found her comelye knightc
Indeed was dead and gone,
Shoe layde her pale cold cheeke to his,
And thus she made her moane.
staye, my deare and onlye lord,
For mee thy faithfullo feero ;
Tis nint (hat I shold followe thee,
Who hast bought my lovo soe deare.
SIR CAWLINE. 3
Then fayntinge in a dcadlye swoune,
And with a deepe-fette sigho,
That bursto her gentle hearte in twayne,
Fayre Christabelle did dye.
As Mr. Furnivall in his original Proposal for the publication of
the Folio said, " With a true instinct Professor Child remarked
in his Ballads (ed. 1861, vol. iii. p. 172), "It is difficult to
believe that this charming romance had so traffic and so senti-
mental a conclusion."
However, the Bishop understood and served his generation.
The story of the fight with the Eldridge Knight is told in the
Scotch ballad of King Malcolm and Sir Colvin, given by
Buchan in his Ballads of the North of Scotland (copied by
Professor Child). But there can be little doubt that this is one
of that collector's many fabrications.
lESUS : lord mickle of might, 1
that dyed ffor vs on the roode
to maintaine vs in all our right,
4 that loues 2 true English blood.
ffor by 3 a K.night I say my song, r]1 sing you
was bold & ffull hardye ;
Sir Robert Briuse wold fforth to ffiaht
8 in-to Ireland ouer the sea ;
& in that land dwells a kino: T . ,
o sin Irish
which ouer all does beare the bell, knight,
& with him there dwelled a curteous Knight,
12 men call him S/r Cawline. SirCawline,
1 For the first four stanfcas Percy has The fcinge had a ladye to his daughter,
in the Beliquea these two : In fashyon she hath no peere;
The First Part. Al11 ' princely wightes thai Ladye wooed
In Ireland, ferr over the sea, To be tho 3' r wedded feerc.— F.
There dwelleth a bonnye kinge ; • love. — P.
And with him a yong and comlye knighte, 3 of.— P.
Men call him syr Cauline.
SIR CAWLINE.
who loved a
king's lovely
daughter,
16
And lie hath a Ladye to his daughter,
of ffashyon shee hath noe peere ;
K.mgMa & lordes they woed her both,
trusted to haue beene her peere. 1
[page 3G9]
but durst not
disclose his
love,
Sir Cawline loues her best of one, 2
but nothing durst hee say
to discreeue 3 his councell to noe man,
20 but deerlye loued this niayd. 4
and had at
last to take
to his bed,
till itt beffell vpon a day, 5
great dill 6 to him was dight ;
the maydens loue remoued his mind,
24 to care bed went the Knight ;
and declares
he should
die.
28
& one while he spread his armes him ffroe,
7 & cryed soe pittyouslye
" ffor the maydens loue that I haue most minde,
this day may comfort mee,
or else ere noone 8 I shalbe dead ! 9 "
thus can Sir Cawline say.
Just bed ire
dinner,
the King
asks for him,
when our parish masse that itt 10 was done,
32 & our u king was bowne to dine,
he sayes, " where is Sir Cawline
that was wont to serue me with ale & wine ? 12 "
1 perhaps fere. — P. peere is equal,
mate, match. — F.
2 All, or any. — P. loveth her host of
all.— Bel.
3 discreeve, discribe, discover. Chauc.
forte, diskevere. — P. He discreeve. —
Bel.
4 he lovde this may. — Bel.
5 on a daye it so beffell. — Bel.
grief. A.-S. deol, deceit, trouble ? — F.
7 For the next five lines Z?< /. lias three :
One while he sprcd them nj T o :
Ami aye ! but I winne that ladyes love,
For dole now I imm dye.
8 Only half the second n in the MS.
— F.
9 This was the usual resource of love-
sick knights. Compare Sir Generides,
p. 1237, and Will Stewart below. — F.
10 And whan our parish-masso. — Bel.
" Our.- Bel.
'- That is wont to serve I he wyne. — Bel.
SIR CAWLINE.
but then answered a curteous Knight
36 ffast wringinge his hands, 1
" Sir Cawlines sicke, & like to be dead
without and a good leedginge. 2 "
and is told
that he's
very ill.
" ffeitch yee 3 downe my daughter deere,
40 shee is a Leeche ffull nine 4 ;
I, and take you doe 5 & the baken bread,
and eene 6 on 7 the wine soe red, 8
& looke no day[n]tinesse ffor him to deare,
44 for ffull loth I wold him teene. 9 "
The King
sends his
daughter to
cure Sir
Cawline.
48
this Ladye is gone to his chamber, 10
her maydens ffollowing Nye,
" well," shee sayth, "how doth my Lord ? "
" sicke ! " againe saith hee. 11
She goes to
him,
asks how
he is,
" I, but rise vp wightlye, man, for shame !
neuer lye soe cowardlye here 12 !
itt 13 is told in my ffathers hall,
52 ffor my loue you will dye. 14 "
and tells him
not to lie
there like a
coward.
" itt is ffor yowr Loue, ffayre Ladye, 15
that all this dill I drye.
ffor if you wold comfort me w/th a Kisse, 16
He says he's
in love wit
her;
if she'll kiss
1 fas! Ins bands wringing. — P.
2 I : to Leche i.s to heal, tun'.
Lye. — P. Leedginge is from the Vv.
allegt r, to aeswagt , mil igate, allay, solace.
1 raw. This stanza is in Bel. :
Then aunswerde him a courteous knighte,
A nd fast his handes gan wringe :
Syr ( lauline is sicke, and like to dye
Withoul a good leechinge. — F.
3 Fetche me.- Eel.
4 Cp. I spaine in Eger $• Grime,
vol. i. p. 362-3, p. 393.— F.
4 Goe take him doughe. — Eel. An
odd misreading of Percy's. The & is
redundanl (as ii so often is), ami doe is
the auxiliary verb. — F.
6 ? MS. edne.— F.
7 And serve him with.— ],', /.
8 the red wine.— P.
9 Lothe I were him to tine.— Eel.
10 Fair Christ al.ellu to his chaumber
goes. — Hi I.
11 thou fayr ladye. — Bel.
12 here i/(/r,/d\;\a in AW.]. — P. ? here
soe cowardlye lye. — F.
13 For it.— Bel.
" You dye for loue of mee. — Eel.
15 Fayre ladye, it is for your love. —
Eel.
10 Compare Sir Generides again, p. 238.
SIR CAWLINE.
him he'll get
up.
But he can't
be her peer
unless he'll
watch all
night by
Eldridge
Hill,
and fight the
Eldridge
King.
This. Sir
Cawline
undertakes,
5G then were I brought ffrom bale to blisse;
noe x longer here 2 wold I lye."
3 " alas ! soe well you know, Sir knight,
I cannott bee jour peere."
60 " ffor some deeds of armes ffaine wold I doe
to be jour Bacheeleere. 4 "
" vpon Elclrige hill there growes 5 a thorne
vpon the mores brodiuge G ;
04 & wold you, 7 Sir Knight, wake there all night
to day of the other 8 Morninge 9 ?
"nor the Eldrige K:ing that is 10 mickle of Might
will examine you beforne ;
68 & there was neuer man that bare his liffe away
since the day that I was borne. 11 "
"but I will ffor yowr sake, ffaire Ladye,
walke on the bents [soe] 12 browne, 13
72 & He either bring you a ready e token
or He neuer come to you againe. 14 "
Again, when Sir Generides is expecting
death :
The flesh wasted fro the boon,
He was so feble he might not goon,
In him was noon hope of life : (p. 30-i-\
his love, Clarionas, comes to kiss him,
and at once
So glad he was of hir comyng,
Of his enel he felt no-thing ;
He kist and dipt with al his. might,
And kept hir in his armes al that night.
(p. 308.)— F.
' ? MS. now.— F. 2 No lenger.— Rt 1.
3 For the next stanza Rel. lias :
Syr knighte, my father is a hinge,
I am his onlye heire ;
Alas! and well yon knowe, syr knighte,
I never can he youro fere.
() ladye, thou art a kinges daughter,
\iiil I am not thv peere,
Bui let nir doe some deedes of armes
To be your bacheleere.
Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe,
My bacheleere to bee,
(But ever and aye my heart wold rue,
Giff harm shold happe to thee,)
4 knight.— P. 5 groweth.— I?'. I.
6 brode, to prick. G.D.— P. ? breadth,
cp. 1. 76.— F. ' dare ye.— Rel.
8 Untill the fayre.— Rel.
9 id est, till Day of the next Morning.
10 knighte, so.— Rel.
11 And never man bare life awaye,
But he did him scath and seorne.
-Rel. 12 Cp. 1. 81.— F.
1:1 Thai knighte he is a foul paynim,
Ami Large of limb and bone;
And but if heaven may bo thy speede
Thy life it is but gone
Nowe on the Eldridgo hilles He
walke,
For thy sake, faire ladle. — Rel.
" never more you see. — Rel.
SIR CAWLINE.
but this Ladye is gone to her Chamber, 1
her Maydens ffollowing bright ;
70 & Str Cawlins gone to the mores soe broad, 2
ffor to wake there all night.
vnto midnight they 3 Moone did rise,
he walked vp and downe,
80 & a lightsome bugle then 4 heard he blow
ouer the bents soe browne.
saies hee, " and if cryance 5 come vntill 6 my hart,
I am ffarr ffrom any good towne 7 ; "
84 & he spyed ene a litle him by, 8
a ffuryous King 9 & a 10 ffell,
& a n ladye bright his brydle led,
that seemly e itt was to see 12 ;
88 & soe fast hee called vpon 13 Sir Cawline,
" Oh man, I redd thee fflye !
ffor if cryance come vntill H thy hart,
I am a-feard least l5 thou mun dye."
92 he sayes, " [no] cryance comes to 16 my hart,
nor ifaith I ffeare not thee 17 ;
ffor because 18 thou minged l9 not christ before,
Thee lesse me dreadeth thee." [page 370]
and goes to
the moor.
At midnight
a bugle
blows ;
he sees a
furious king,
who warns
him that
if he's craven
he'll die.
1 The ladye is gone to her owne
chaumbere. — Bel.
2 Syr Cauline lope from care-bed
soone,
And to the Eldridge bills is gone. —
Bel. Two bad lines for one good one.
— F.
3 that the. Bel.
* Then a Lightsome bugle. — Bel.
5 MS. cryamce. Fear, Old Vv. criente,
crainte. — F. ^,
6 Quoth hee, If cryance come till. —
Bel.
' My life it is but gone. — Bel. 1st ed. ;
printed right in the 2nd, with a note:
" This line is restored from the folio MS.''
â– â– V.
8 And soone he spyde on the mores
so broad. — Bel.
9 knight : vide infra. — P.
111 witjit and. -Bel.
u A.— Bel.
12 Clad in a fayre kyrtell.— Bel.
" on- Bel.
11 Km- 1ml if cryanco come till. — Bel.
15 I weene but.— Bel.
1(1 He savtb, 'No' cryanco comes till.
— Bel.
17 in faith, 1 wyll not flee. — Bel.
18 For, cause. — Bel.
19 id est, mentionedst. — P.
8
SIR CAWLINE.
Cawline
charges the
King.
Their spears
break ;
they fight
with swords.
96 but Sir Cawline he shooke a speare,
the Kmg was bold, and abode 1 ,
& the timber these 2 Children bore 2
soe soone in sunder slode, 3
100 if or they tooke & 4 2 good swords,
& they Layden on good Loade. 5
Cawline cuts
off the
King's right
hand.
but the Elridge ~Kincj 6 was mickle of might,
& stiffly to the ground did stand ; 7
104 but S/r Cawline with an aukeward 8 stroke
he brought him ffrom his hand, 9
I, & fflying ouer his head soe hye, 10
ffell downe of y l that Lay land :
His Queen
begshini to
spare
her Lord,
108 ,2 & his lady stood a litle thereby,
ffast ringing her hands :
"for they maydens loue that you haue most meed,
smyte you my Lord no more,
I The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his
steed ;
Syr Cauline bold abode :
Then cither shooke his trustye
gpeare. — Bel.
" bare. — Bel. s yode. — Bel.
4 " & " is often redundant : compare
line 120.— Dyee.
5 Then tooke they out theyr two good
swordes,
And layden on full faste,
Till helme and hawberke, mail and
sheelde,
They all were well-nye brast. — Bel.
6 The Eldridge kuight.— Bel.
7 And stiffe in stower did stande. —
Bel.
8 a backward. — Bel.
9 smote off his right hand. — Bel.
10 That Sonne he with paine and laeke
of bloud.— Bel.
II on.- Bel.
'-' For the next two stanzas /iV.has six :
Then up Byr Cauline lift his brande
All over his head so hye:
Ami lure I sweare by the holy roode,
Nimr, caytiffe, thou shall dye.
Then up and came that ladye brighte,
Faste wringing of her hande :
For the maydens love, that most you
love,
Withold that deadlye brande.
For the maydens love, that most you
love,
Now smyte no more I praye ;
And aye whatever thou wilt, my lord,
He shall thy hests obaye.
Now sweare to mee, thou Eldridge
knighte,
And here on this lay-land,
That thou wilt believe on Christ his laye,
And therto plight thy hand :
And that thou never on Eldridge come
To sporte, gamon, or playi :
Ami that thou here give up thy armes
Until thy dying d.iye.
The Eldridge knighte gave up his armes
With many a sorrowfulle si^he;
And sware to obey syr Caulines hest,
Till the tyme that he shold dye
SIR CAWLINE.
112 " & lieest neuer come vpon Eldrige [hill]
him to sport, garaon, or play,
& to ineete noe man of middle l earth,
& that hues 2 on christs his lay. 3 "
116 but he then vp, and that Eldryge 'King 4
sett him in his sadle againe, 5
& that Eldryge King G & his Ladye
to then- castle are they gone. 7
120 8 & liee tooke then vp & that Eldryge sword
as hard as any fflynt,
and he'll
never fij, r lit
Christian
again.
The King
and Queen
ride off.
Cawline
takes up
his sword,
1 ? MS. tnildle; or middle, with the
left stroke of the first d dotted for i. On
" middle earth " see note 4 , p. 92, vol. i.
— F.
2 leeves, i.e. believes. — P.
3 lay, i. e. law. — P.
4 And he then up and the Eldridge
knighte. — Eel.
5 anone. — JRel.
6 And the Eldridge knighte. — Bel.
1 gane. — Dyce.
8 Henceforth Percy has it all his own
way, except in three stanzas. For the
next six stanzas he has these thirty-six :
Then he tooke up the bloudy hand,
That was so large of bone,
And on it he founde five ringes of gold
Of knightes that had be slone.
Then be tooke up the Eldridge sworde,
As hard as any flint;
And be tooke off those ringes five,
As brighl as lyre and brent.
Eome then pricked syr ('.-inline
As light as leafe on tree :
I-wys he neither stinl ne blanne,
Till be his ladye see.
Then downe be knelt upon his I
Before I bal lady gay :
l ) ladye, I have I. in on the Eldridge hills ;
These 1 nkeiis I bring away.
Now welcome, welcome, syr Cauline,
Thrice welcome unto mee,
For now I perceive thou art a true
knighte,
Of valour bolde and free.
ladye, I am thy own true knighte,
Thy hests for to obaye :
And mought I hope to winne thy love ! —
Ne more his tonge colde saye.
The ladye blushed scarlette redde,
And fette a gentill sighe :
Alas ! syr knight how may this bee,
For my degree's soe highe ?
But sith thou hast hight, thou comely
youth,
To be my batchilere,
He promise if thee I may not wedde
I will have none other fere.
Then shee held forthe her lilly-white
hand
Towards that knighte so free :
He gave to it one gentill kisse,
His heart was brought from balo to
blisse,
The teares sterte from his ee.
Put keep my counsayl, syr Cauline,
Ne let no man it knowe ;
Fui' and ever my lather sholde it ken,
I wot he wolde us sloe.
r, ana i ! i , 1 1 daye forthe that ladye faj re
Lovde syr Cauline the knighte:
From that daye forthe he onlyjoyde
\\ han slice was in his sight.
Yea and oftentimes they mette
Within a fay re arboure,
Where they in hive and sweet daliaunce
Past niaiiye a pleasaun! boure.
10
SIR CAWLINE.
rings and
hand,
and grives
them to
his love.
124
& soe he did those ringes 5,
harder then flyer, and brent.
ffirst he presented to the K.ings daughter
they hand, & then they sword.
Part the Second.
Everye -white will have its blacke,
And everye sweete its sowre :
This founde the ladye Christabelle
In an untimely howre.
For so it befelle as syr Cauline
Was with that ladye faire,
The kinge her father walked forthe
To take the evenyng aire :
And into the arbonre as he went
To rest his wearye feet,
He found his daughter and syr Cauline
There sette in daliaunce sweet.
The kinge hee sterted forthe, I-wys,
And an angrye man was hee :
Nowe, tray toure, thou shalt hange or drawe,
And rewe shall thy ladle.
Then forthe syr Cauline he was ledde,
And throwne in dungeon deepe :
And the ladye into a towre so hye,
There left to wayle and weepe.
The queene she was syr Caulines friend,
And to the kinge sayd shee :
I praye you save syr Caulines life,
And let him banisht bee.
Now, dame, that traitor shal be sent
Across the salt sea fome :
But here I will make thee a band,
If ever he come within this land,
A foule deathe is his doome.
All woe-begone was that gentil knight
To parte from his ladye ;
And many a time he sighed sore,
And cast a wistfulle eye :
Faire Christabelle, from thee to parte,
Farre lever had I dye.
Faire Christabelle, that ladye bright,
Was had fortlio of the towro ;
But ever slice droopeth in her minde,
As nipt by an ungentle winde
Doth some faire lillye flowre.
And ever shee doth lament and weepe
To tint her lover soe :
Syr Cauline, thou little think'st on mee,
But I will still be true.
Manye a kinge, and manye a duke,
And lords of high degree,
Did sue to that fayre ladye of love ;
But never shee wolde them nee.
When manye a day was past and gone,
Ne comforte she colde flnde,
The kynge proclaimed a tourneament,
The * cheere his daughters mind :
And there came lords, and there came
knights,
Fro manye a farre countrye,
To break a spere for theyr ladyes love
Before that faire ladye.
And many a ladye there was sette
In purple and in palle :
But faire Christabelle soe woe-begone
Was the fayrest of them all.
Then manye a knighte was mickle of
might
Before his ladye gaye ;
But a strangor wight, whom no man
knewe,
He wan the prize eche daye.
His acton it was all of blacke,
His hewberke, and his sheelde,
Ne noe man wist whence he did come,
Ne noe man knewe where he did gone,
Whan they came out the feelde.
And now three days were prostlye past
In feates of chivalrye,
When lo upon the fourth morninge
A sorrowfullc sight they see.
A hugye giaunt stiffe and starke,
All foule of limbe and lore ;
Two goggling eyen like fire farden,
A mouthe from care to eare.
Before him came a dwarffe full lowe,
That waited on his knee,
* To. 2nd edition.— F.
SIR CAWLINE.
11
" but a serrett l buffett you baue him giuen,
the King & the crowne ! " shee sayd.
128 "I, but 34 2 stripes
cornen beside the rood." 3
& a Gyant that was both stiffe [&] strong,
he lope now them amonge,
132 & vpon his squier 4 5 heads he bare,
vnmackley 5 made was hee.
& he dranke then on the Kings wine,
& hee put the cup in his sleeue ;
136 & all the trembled & were wan
ffor feare he shold them greeffe. 6
"He tell thee mine Arrand, King" he sayes,
" mine errand what I doe heere ;
] 40 ffor I will bren thy temples hye,
or He haue thy daughter deere ;
in, or else vpon, yond more soe brood
thou shalt ffmd mee a ppeare. 7 '
144 the King he turned him round about,
(Lord, in his heart he 8 was woe !),
But he has
more to do.
A five-
headed giant
leaps in,
drinks the
King's wine,
and demands
his
daughter.
The King's
in a great
fright,
says, " is there noe Knight of the 9 round table and asks
this matter will vndergoe ? £? ht for
° him,
And at his backe five heads he hare,
All wan and pale of blee.
Sir, quoth the dwarfiv, and louted lowe,
Behold that hend Soldain !
Behold these heads I beare with me!
They are kings which he hath slain.
The Eldridge knight is his own couslne,
Whom a knight of thine hath Bhent :
And hee is come to avenge his wrong,
And to thee, all thy knightes among,
Defiance here hath sent.
But yette he will appease his wrath
Thy daughters love to winne:
And but thou yeeldehim that fayremayd,
Thy halls and towers must brenne.
Thy head, syr king, must goo with nice ;
Or else thy daughter deere ;
Or else within these lists soe broad
Thou must finde him a peere.
1 ? closed fist. Serre, to join closely.
Halliwell. Fr. serrer, to close . . force or
presse neere together ; to locke, shut or
put up. Cotgrave. If a king's daughter
might talk slang, "a sliutting'-up blow"
would just do here. — F.
* Read " four and thirty."— F.
3 Somo very great omission here. — P.
1 swire, neck. Percy turns the
" squieri' into a dwarf, with five dead
kings' heads at his back. But the Bishop
knew what swire meant. — F.
5 unmacMey, uneven, unequal, mis-
shapen. Makly is even, equal. G. D.
— P. ° groove. — P.
7 MS. appoare. — F. a peere. — P.
8 And in his heart. — AW.
9 Is there never a knighte of mj.—Rel.
12
SIR CAWLINE.
and have his
lands
and
daughter.
148 J " I, & hee sliall haue my broad Lauds,
& keepe them well his hue ;
I, aud soe hee shall my daughter deere,
to be his weded wiffe."
1 Percy composes again :
Is there never a knighte amongst yee all
Will fight for my daughter and mee ?
AVhoever will fight yon grimme soldan,
Eight fair his meede shall bee.
For hee shall have my broad lay-lands,
And of my crowne be heyre ;
And he shall winne faire Christabelle
To be his wedded fere.
But every knighte of his round table
Did stand both still and pale ;
For whenever they lookt on the grim
soldan,
It made their hearts to quail.
All woe-begone was that fayre ladye,
When she sawe no helpe was nye :
She cast her thought on her owne true-
love,
And the teares gusht from her eye.
Up then sterte the stranger knighte,
Sayd, Ladye, be not affrayd :
He fight for thee with this grimme
soldan,
Thoughe he be unmacklye made.
And if thou wilt lend me the Eldridge
sworde,
That lyeth within thy bowre,
I truste in Christe for to slay this fiende
Thoughe he bo stiff in stowre.
Goe fetch him downe the Eldridge
sworde,
The kinge he cryde, with speede :
Nowe heaven assist thee, courteous
knighte ;
My daughter is thy meede.
The p- vaunt he stepped into the lists,
And sayd, A wave, awaye :
I sweare, as I am the hend soldan,
Thou leltest mo hero all daye.
Then forthe the stranger knight hocamo
In his blacke armoure dight:
The ladye sighed a gentle sighe,
" That this were my true knighte ! "
And nowe the gyaunt and knighte be
mett
Within the lists soe broad ;
And now with swordes soe sharpe of
Steele,
They gan to lay on load.
The soldan strucke the knighte a stroke,
That made him reele asyde ;
Then woe-begone was that fayre ladye,
And thrice she deeply sighde.
The soldan strucke a second stroke,
That made the bloude to flowe :
All pale and wan was that ladye fayre,
And thrice she wept for woe.
The soldan strucke a third fell stroke,
Which brought the knighte on his
knee:
Sad sorrow pierced that ladyes heart,
And she shriekt loud shreikings three.
The knighte he leapt upon his feete,
All recklesse of the pain:
Quoth hee, But heaven be now my speede,
Or else I sliall be slaine.
He grasped his sworde with mayne and
mighte,
And spying a secrette part,
He drave it into the soldan's syde,
And pierced him to the heart.
Then all the people gave a shoute,
Whan they sawe the soldan falle :
The ladye wept, and thanked Christ,
That had reskewed her from thrall.
And nowe (lie kinge with all his barons
Hose uppe from offe his scale,
And downe he stepped inlu I he listes
That curt eons knighte to greete.
Bui he for payne and lacke of bluude
Was fallen into a swounde,
SIR CAWLINE.
152 & then stood vp Sir Cawline
his owne errand ffor to say :
" ifaith, 1 I wold to god, Sir," sayd St'r Cawline,
" that Soldan I will assay.
156 " goe, ffeitch me downe my Eldrige sword,
ffor I woone itt att [a] ffray."
" but away, away ! " sayd the hend Soldan,
" thou tarryest niee here all day ! "
1G0 but the hend Soldan & Sir Cawline
the Sought a summers day :
now has hee slaine that hend Soldan,
& brought his 5 heads away.
13
Sir Cawline
agrees to
fight the
Giant.
He does so,
and slays
him.
1 G4 & the 'King has betaken him his broade lands
& all his venison. 2
" but take you too & jour Lands [soe] broad,
& brooke 3 them well jour liffe,
1G8 ffor you promised mee jour daughter deere
to be my weded wiffe."
The King
gives
Cawline
all his lands,
but Cawline
asks for his
daughter,
And there all walteringe in his gore,
Laye lifelesse on the grounde.
Come downe, come downe, my daughter
dc-.in ,
Thou art a leeche of skille ;
Farre Lever bad 1 lose halfe my landes,
Than thi.s good knighte sholde spille.
Downe then steppeth that fayre ladye,
To helpe him if she maye;
But whin she did his beavere raise,
It is my life, my lord, she sayes,
And shriekte and swound awaye.
Sir Cauline juste Lifte up bis eyes
When be beard his ladye crye,
ladye, I am thine owne true love.
For thee J wisht to dyo.
Tin ii giving luf one partingo looke,
Ho dosed his eyes in deathe,
Ere Christahelle, that ladye milde,
Begane to drawe her breathe.
But when she found her comelye knighte
Indeed was dead and gone,
Shoe layde her pale cold cheeke to his,
And thus she made her moane.
O staye, my deare and onlye lord,
For mee thy faithfulle feere;
Ti meet thai I shold followe time,
Wlio hast bought my love soe deare.
Then fayntinge in a deadlye swoune,
And with a deepe-fette sighe,
That burste her gentle hearte in frwayne,
Fayre Christabelle did dye.
1 In faith. — P.
2 all for his warryson, i.e. reward.
—P.
3 broke, i.e. enjoy. — P.
14
SIR CAWLINE.
and the
King
promises her
to him
at once.
" now by my ffaith," then sayes our "King,
" ffor that wee will not striffe ;
172 ffor thou shalt haue my daughter dere
to be thy weded wiffe."
[page 371]
Cawline
goes into a
garden to
pray,
where a
steward
the other morninge Sir Cawline rose
by the dawning of the day,
176 & vntill a garden did he goe
his Mattins ffor to say ;
& that Lespyed a ffalse steward —
a shames death that he might dye !-
lets a lion
out on him
â– weaponless.
180 & he lett a lyon out of a bande,
Sir Cawline ffor to teare ;
& he had noe wepon him vpon,
nor noe wepon did weare.
He thrusts
hiscloakinto
the lion's
mouth
till its heart
bursts.
184 but hee tooke then his Mantle of greene,
into the Lyons mouth itt thrust ;
he held the Lyon soe sore to the wall
till the Lyons hart did burst. 1
A watchman
cries, " Sir
Cawline's
slain."
His love
swoons,
188 & the watchmen cryed vpon the walls
& sayd, " Sir Cawlines slaine !
and w/th a beast is not ffull litle,
a Lyon of Mickle mayne."
192 then the 'Kings daughter shee ffell downe,
" for peerlesse is my payne ! "
but Sir
Cawline
says " I am
here,"
" peace, my Lady ! " sayes S/r Cawline,
" I haue bought thy loue ffull deere.
106 peace, my Lady ! " sayes S/r Cawline,
" peace, Lady, ffor I am heere ! "
1 brast.— P.
SIR CAWLINE.
15
200
then lie clid marry this Kmga daughter
wi'th gold & siluer bright,
& 15 sonnes this Ladye beere
to Sir Cawline the Knight. 1
marries her
and they
have 15 sons.
ffins.
1 N.B. I ventured to make great addi-
tions to this Fragment ; of which. I have
given notice to the Reader, in my I s .' Vol.
of Reliques &e. — P. The" notice " con-
sists of Percy's " it was necessary to
supply several stanzas in the first part,
& still more in the second, to connect &
complete the story " ; inverted commas
to a but and No ; his * * * at the end ;
and two notes that he has altered — slode,
1. 99, to yode, and aukewctrd, 1. 104, to
backward. — P.
Between the first and second parts,
Percy put in his second edition the
following note :
*** In this conclusion of the First
Paet, and at the beginning of the Second,
the reader will observe a resemblance to
the story of Sigismunda and Guiscard,
as told by Boccace and Dryden: See
the latter's Description of the Lovers
meeting in the Cave, and those beautiful
lines, which contain a reflection so like
this of our poet, " everye white, &c. viz.
" But as extremes are short of ill and
good,
And tides at highest mark regorge
their flood ;
So Fate, that could no more improve
their joy.
Took a malicious pleasure to destroy.
Tancred, who fondly loved, &c."
16
[In five Parts.— P.]
There are extant two complete MS. copies of this romance — one
in the Auchinleck MS., one here at last printed from the Folio.
Besides these, there are imperfect MS. copies, one in the Public
Library of Cambridge (Ff. ii. 38), containing some 602 lines,
one in the Douce Collection (MS. Selden, c. 39), containing
some 352 lines in all. The romance has been four times printed
— by Wynkyn de Worde, by Copland, in Mr. Utterson's Early
Popular Poetry, and more recently for the Abbotsford Club.
Of all these copies, the earliest and the most perfect is that
treasured in the Auchinleck MS., printed for the Abbotsford
Club. Next in merit, so far as it goes, is the Cambridge copy.
This opens as follows :
{From Camb. Univ. MS. Ff. ii. 38, fol. 257 b.)
Lystenyb, lordynges gente & fro,
y wyll yow tell of sir degare.
knyjtes \>at were some tyme in lande,
Far bey wolde J>em-selfe fande
To seke auenturs nyght & day,
How \>at bey my3t )>er strenkyth assay.
So dud a knyght sir degare,
I scliall yow telle what man was he.
In bretayne be lasso ber was a kyngo,
Of grete power in all thynge ;
Styffeste in armowr vndur schylde,
And moost doghtyest to fy3t in fylde ;
For ther was none verament
That my3t in warre nor in twrnament,
Nodur in Iustyng for no thynge,
Hym owte of hys sadull brynge,
Nor owt of hys sterop brynge hys foto ;
[fol. 258] So stronge he was of boone & blode.
There was an unique copy of Wynkyn de Worde's edition sold
at Heber's sale. Probably the edition issued by Copland circ.
SIR DEGREE.
17
1545, of which a copy is preserved in the British Museum,
differed but slightly from that of the earlier printer. From one
of these printed editions the Douce fragments would seem to
have been transcribed ; from one of these the following version,
viciously executed, as indeed are generally the Percy folio ver-
sions. The correspondence of the three copies will be sufficiently
illustrated by comparing the following two extracts together, and
with verses 381-92 of the Folio version :
{From Copland's Edition.)
Syr Degore stode in a studye than
And thought he was a doughtie man
And I am in my yonge bloud
And I haue horse and armure good
And as I trowe a full good steedo
I wyll assaye if I may spede
And I may beare the kinge downe
I maye be a man of great renownc
And if that he me fel can
There knoweth no body what I am
Death or lyfe what so betide
I wyll once against hym ryde
Thus in the citie hys ynne he takes
And resteth him and merye makes.
QFrom Donee's MS. 261, fol. 8.)
Syr Degore stode in study than
And thought ho was a doughtye man
And I am in my younge bloode
And I haue horse and armure good
And as I trowc a full good steede
I wyll assaye yf that I may spede
1 Donee's MS. note in MS. 261 :
" This MS. was purchased by some
bookseller at the sale of the Fairfax
library at Leeds Castle, in 1831.
"The MS. from which the metrical
romance of l!<il>cr! ///<â– /Jrril was printed
by J. Herbert, in 1798 was certainly
written by the person who wrote the
present MS., and illuminated with tlio
same kind of rude drawings. He was
probably a. collector of met rical romances
liko the transcriber of Bishop Percy's
VOL. III.
celebrated MS., which was written al
the time of Charles II. ; and there may
be other volumes of the like nature as
the present existing in obscure Libra-
ries, and ei'eii made up by the present.
bran criber.
•• Qy. what became of the MS. of Robert
the Devil, which was successively in the
possession of Mr. Eawlinson, Horace
Walpole, Mr. Edwards of Pall Mall,
Mr. Egerton, Mr. Allen, Mr. Caulfield,
an 1 â– MEasterre Samuelle Irelande'?"
18 SIR DEGREE.
And yf I maye beare the Kinge downo
I maye be a man of greate renown e
And yf that he me fall canne
There knoweth no bodye what I am
Death or lyfe what me betyde
I wyll ones agaynste hym ryde
Thus in the cyttye hys ynne he takes
And rested hym and myrry makes
(So vpon a daye the Kinge he mette
He kneled downe and fayre hym grette
He sayde Syr Kinge of muche myght
My lorde bathe sent me to youe right
To warne youe howe yt shalbe
My lorde will come and iuste with the
)
The Auchinleck MS. narrates this same " study : ' in this
wi^e :
{From Abbotsford Club Copy.)
Sire Degarre thous thencbe gan,
" Ieb am a staleworht man ;
And of min owen Ich baue a stede,
Swerd, & spere, & riehe wede ;
And }if Ich felle the Kyng adoun,
Euere Ich baue wonnen renoun.
And thei that he me harte sore,
No man wot wer Ich was bore ;
Whether doth other lif me bitide
A3en the King Ich wille ride."
In the cite his in he taketh,
And resteth him & meri maketh.
No doubt many other copies, of various degrees of inferiority,
were once in circulation. In the Eegisters of the Stationers'
Company (see Mr. Collier's Extracts) occurs this entry :
Recevyd of John Kynge for his lycense for pryntinge of these
copyes Lucas Vrialis, nyce wanton, impatiens poverte, the proud
wyves pater noster, the Squyre of Low deggre, Syr deggre ; graunted
the X of June 1560. ij s .
A sketch of the romance from Copland's edition is given by
Ellis in his Early English Metrical Romances, with all the
ponderous facetiousness that characterises that work.
SIR DEGREE. 19
The romance is certainly older than the middle of the four-
teenth century, for that is the date at which the Auchinleck MS.
was written. Warton (who gives a most inaccurate analysis of
.t, which is transcribed by the editor of the Abbotsford Club
edition) conjectures that it may belong to the same century as
the Squire of Loiv Degree and Sir Guy — that is, according to
him, the thirteenth.
For the name, says the Auchinleck MS. :
DegSre nowt elles ne is
But thing that not never whar is
the thing that negth forlorn al so
For thi the schild he nemmede thous tho.
The romance is, in our opinion, of more than ordinary merit.
It possesses the singular charm of brevity and conciseness ; does
not impair or destroy its power by the endless diffuseness and
prolixity which are the besetting disfigurements of that branch
of literature to which it belongs. How often in romances does
what bids fair to be a mighty river spread out vaguely into a
marsh ! what should grow into .a stately tree, end in a weak wild
wanton luxuriance ! This so common fault at least is avoided
in this romance of Sir Degore. But there are other than nega-
tive merits. There is, indeed, no considerable novelty about
the incidents introduced; a jealous father, a clandestine child-
delivery, a fight between son and father (here between son and
grandfather too), an unconsummated marriage between son and
mother — these are persons and situations that were never wearied
of by that simple audience for whose ears romances were designed.
The romance-writer's business was rather to re-dispose these
than to cancel and supersede them. This work of rearrange-
ment is well performed in the present case. The old figures are
skilfully re-dressed and introduced ; fresh lights are thrown upon
their faces, fresh vigour is infused through their limbs.
c 2
20
SIR DEGREE.
[The First Part.]
[How Sir Degree's Father ravished a Princess, and begat him ; and how he was
brought up by a Hermit.]
I'll tell yon a
talc of Sir
Degree.
An English
king,
feared in
fight,
has a
beautiful
daughter.
She is wooed
by well-born
suitors,
LoRDINGS, & you will hold you still,
a gentle tale I will you tell,
all of knights of this countrye
4 the w7«'ch haue trauelled beyond the sea,
as did a knight called Sir Degree,
one of the best was ffound him before. 1
that 2 time in England dwelled a King,
8 a stout man in manners and all thinge,
both in Armour and on the sheeld 3
he was much doubted in battell & in ffeild.
there was noe man in verament
12 that lusted with him in turnament
that out of bis stirropps might stirr his ffoote,
he was soe strong without doubt.
the King had no more Children but one,
16 a daughter white as whales bone 4 ;
that mayd hee loued as his liffe ;
her mother was dead, the Queene his wiffe ;
in trauell of Chyld shee dyed, alas !
20 & when this mayd of age was,
Kings sonnes her wooed then,
Emperoures, Dukes, & other men,
for to haue had her in Marryage
24 for loue of her great heritage.
1 then found was hee : sic leg 7 ; 1 metri
gratia, but as Degree is occasionally
written Degore, Pt. 2, 1. 303 [Pt. 3,
1. 483] it may perhaps have been so
here. — P. The old edition reprinted by
Utterson calls the hero "Sir Degore"
throughout. — Skeat (who gives the va-
rious readings here).
2 what.— P.
3 in Shield.— P.
4 when first taken mil of the lish ii is
very white. — P. Strange that Percy
should have supposed, as our earliest
writers did, that the ivory of those days
was made from the bones of the whale !
It was, in fact, made from the teeth of
the walrus. The simile in the toxt is
frequently found in much later poets; e.g.
To show his teeth as ivkitc as whale' s-
bone.
Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost, v. 2.
Dyce.
SIR DEGREE.
21
but then they Kmg he made answer,
" that neu«s/- man hee shold wedd her
wt'th-out hee might with stont Iustiuge
28 the King out of his sadle bringe,
to make him loose his stirropps too.
many one assayd, & cold not doe ;
but euery yeere, as right itt wold,
32 a great ffeast the King did hold
vpon his Queenes 1 mourning day,
the which was buryed in an abbey.
soe vpon a day the King wold ryde
3G vnto an abbey there besyde,
to a dirges & masses 2 both,
the pore to ffeed, & the naked to cloth.
his owne daughter shee with him rode,
40 & in the fforrest shee still abode,
& sayd, ' downe shee must light,
better her clothes to amend right.'
a- downe they be light all three
44 her damsells, & soe did shee.
a ffull long stond 3 they there abode
till all they men away rode.
They gatt vp, & after they wold, [page 372]
48 but they cold not they right way hold ;
the wood was roughe & thicke I- wis,
& they tooke their way all amisse.
they rode south, they rode west,
52 vnto the thicke of that fforrest,
& vnto a bane 4 the came att Last.
then varryed they wonderous ffast, 5
but none can
win her
by unhorsing
tin' King in a
joust.
On the
anniversary
of bis wife's
death,
the King
rides to an
Abbey near
to hear Mass
and give
alms.
His daughter
and her
maids
dismount in
the forest,
and then
cannot find
their way
out.
They stop at
a glade,
1 Three strokes for the u. — F.
2 MS. masques ; but see 1. 124, 12
— F.
To do diriges and masses botho.— I'll.
To do dyryges & masses botbe. — Ff.
(Cambr. MS. Ff. ii. 38.)
3 space of time. — P.
* perhaps Laue. see Part 5, line 58.
—P.
5 And into a lando they came at the
laste,
Then weried they wonder fasto. — Utt.
In-to a launde they are comen
And bane ryght well vndwnomen.
— Ff.
00
SIR DEGREE.
and all lie on
the grass,
save the
King's
daughter,
who wanders
off,
loses her
way,
and fears
she shall be
torn by wild
beasts.
But then she
sees a hand-
some knight,
who tells her
that
he has long
loved her,
and Bhe
ffor the wist amisse they had gone,
56 & downe the light euery one.
the wheather was hott affore none ;
the wist not what was best ffor to haue done,
hut layd them downe vpon the greene.
60 some of them ffell on sleepe, as I weene,
& thus they fell on sleepe euerye one
sauing the 'Kings daughter alone,
& shee went fforth to gather mowers
64 & to heare the song of the small ffowles.
soe long shee did fforth passe
till that shee wist not where itt was.
then can shee cry wonderous sore,
68 shee weeped & wrange her hands thore, 1
& sayes, " alacke that I was borne !
her in 2 this fforrest I am fforlorne,
& wilde beasts will me rende
72 or 3 any man may mee ffind ! "
tliey way to her damsells shee wold haue came,
but shee wist not how to come. 4
then shee was ware of a Ioyfull sight :
76 a-fore her there stood a ffayre Knight
tli at was wellfauored of ffoote & hand;
there [was] not such a one in all the Land ;
& by the rich clothing that hee had on,
80 hee seemed to be a gentleman. 5
soe stout a man then was hee,
he sayes, " Madam, god yee see !
be yee dread arright of nought ;
84 I haue noe armour with me brought,
but I haue loued you this many a yeere,
& now that I haue ffound you here
1 I here— P.
,J MS. herin.— F.
8 before. I'.
4 The waye to her damosels shewolde
haue numc. — I'm.
To lmr maydenys sche vrolde anone,
But sche wyste not whych wey to
goon.— Fi'.
5 gentlemon. — P.
ylR DEGREE.
23
you shall bee my Leim»an ere I goo,
88 whether itt turnes to wayle or woe. 1 '
but then no more adoe cold shee,
but wept and cryed, and cold not fflee.
anon he began her to behold,
92 & he did with her whatsoeuer hee wold,
& there hee bereft her of her maydenhead. 2
& right before her the Knight stoode :
& hee sayes, " Madam gentle & ffree,
96 now with child, Madam, I doe thinke you bee,
& well I wott hee will be a knaue 3 ;
therfore my good sword he shall haue,
my sword heere vpon my hand,
loo therewith the Last I did kill a Gyant,
& I brake the poynt of itt in his head,
& here in the fforrest I haue him Layd. 4
take itt vp now, dame, fFor itt is heere ;
104 thou speakes not with, mee this many a yeere ;
yett peraduenture they time may come
that I may speake with my owne sonne,
& by this sword I may him ken."
108 hee kist his loue, & went then ;
the knight passed as hee come,
all weeping the Ladye the sword vp nume, 5
& shee went fforth sore weeping,
112 & there shee ffound her mayds sleeping,
shee hid the sword as well as slice might,
& called them vp anon-right,
& tooke 6 their horsses euerye one,
116 & began to ryde fforth anon.
then they were ware att the Last,
many a Knight came pricking ffast ;
must now
yield to him.
He then
ravishes her,
tells her
he has
begotten
a boy on her,
and leaves
liis sword
with liiT Eor
the boy
so that he
may here-
after know
him by it.
He then goes
away.
The Princess
takes his
sword,
returns to
(u C maids,
and they ride
till they
meet her
Father's
knight .
1 weale or woe. — P.
2 maydenhood. — P.
: ' A hoy, a male child. So in Chauc.
-P.
1 ? MS. Lqydor Lqgd.— F. layd.— P.
And in the felde I it Leued. — Utt.
I brake the poynt in his hedd,
Where-of y wot ]>at he was dedd,
-Ff.
5 nume, nomc, took ; Sax. niman, to
take.— P.
'■They took.— P.
24
SIR DEGREE.
who lead
them to the
abbey.
After service
all ride
home, and
are merry.
The Princess
glows big,
and \veeps>
oi'tcn.
Her maiden
asks her why
she weeps.
She
confesses
that she is
with child ;
and if it's
known,
her father
will be
accused
of incest.
Her maiden
Si-.y.-t she*ll
manage itall
secretly.
ffroHi they 'K.ing they were sent
120 to witt w7i/ch way his daughter went.
they brought them into the right way,
& rodden ffayre vnto the Abbey,
there was done service and all thinge,
124 with many a Masse, with ricb offeringe ;
& when these masses were all done,
& come to passe the hye noone,
the "King to his pallace did ryde,
] 28 And much people by his syde,
& after, euery man was glad & blythe.
this Ladye swooned many a sithe, 1
& euer her belly waxed more & more ;
132 shee weeped & wrang her hands ffull sore,
soe vpon a day shee can sore weepe,
& a mayd of hers tooke good heede 2
& said, " Madam, ffor S' Chary tye,
136 why weepe yee soe sore ? tell itt mee ! "
" mayden, if I shold tell itt before,
if thou shold mee beraye 3 I were but Lore ;
ffor euer I haue beene meeke & mild,
1 40 & trulye now I am with chyld ;
& if any man itt vnder-yeede,
men wold tell in euerye steade 4
that mine owne ffather of mee itt wan,
144 ffor I neuer loued any other man.
& if my ffather he might know itt,
such sorrow his hart wold gett
that hee wold neuer merry bee,
145 ffor all his loue is Layde on mee."
" O gentle Lady, greeue itt nougbt ;
stilly itt shall bee fforth brought ;
there shall none know itt certainlye,
152 truly, Madam, but you and I."
[page 373]
1 time.— P.
- perhaps, keep.— P.
■bewray. — P.
1 place. -P.
SIR DEGREE.
2.5
the time was come that sliee was vnbound,
& deliuered whole and sound.
a ffayre man Chylde there was borne :
156 glad of itt was the Lady fforlorne.
this mayd serued her att her will,
& layd the Child in a cradle,
& wrapped him in clothes anon,
ICO & was ready till haue gone.
then was this Child to with mother hold ' ;
shee gaue itt 20V in gold,
and 10" in siluer alsoe ;
1G4 vnder his head shee can itt doe ;
& much itt is that a Child behoues. 2
with itt shee giues a payre of gloues,
& bade the child wed no whTe in Lande
168 without those gloues wold on her hand ;
& then the gloues wold serue no where,
sauing the mother that did him beare.
a letter with the Child put shee,
172 with the gloues alsoe perdye :
then was itt in the Letter writt,
whosoeuer itt found, shold itt witt, —
' ffor gods loue, if any good man
176 This litle Child ffind can,
gett him to be Christened of the preists hand,
& helpe him ffor to line on Land
w/th this siluer that is heare,
180 till the time that hee may armoure beare ;
& helpe him with his owne good,
ffor hee is come of a gentle blood.'
& when that they had all this downe, 3
184 the Mayd shee tooke her way right soone :
The Princess
gives birth
to a boy,
who is put in
a cradle
with 30i.
under his
head,
a pair
of gloves,
(the boy is to
marry no
girl unless
they'll
tit her,)
and a letter
asking the
finder
to have the
boy
christened,
and bring
him up till
he can fight.
Then the
maiden
carries the
1 to its— hold, i.e. held.— P.
Yi t was the childe vnto tho mother
hold.— Utt.
3yt hys modur can hym boholde
And toko iiij powndo of golde. — Ff.
2 is of use to. — P.
3 perhaps done. — P.
26
SIR DEGREE.
boy and
cradle
to a
hermit's
door,
anil leaves
them there.
Next
morning
the hermit
finds the
boy,
thanks
Christ,
christens the
child
Sir Degree
(t. i. almost
lost),
with this Child in the cradle, and all thinge,
shee stale away in an eueninge,
& went her way, & wist not where,
188 through thicke and thinn, & through bryar. 1
then shee was readylye ware anon
of an hermitage made in stone,
a holy man that there was wooninge, 2
192 & thither shee went without Leasinge.
& when shee came to the hermitts dore,
shee sett the cradle there before,
& turned againe anon-right,
196 & came againe the same night.
the hermitt wakened in the morrow,
& eke his knaue 3 alsoe.
the Hermitt sayd, " Lore?, I crye thee mercye !
200 methinke I heare a younge chyld crye."
this holy man his dore vndid,
& ffound the Child in that stead.
there he lift vp the sheete anon,
204 & looked on the litle groome 4 ;
then held he vp his right hand, 5
& thanked Iesus christ in that stond, 6
& bare the child into the Chappell.
208 ffor ioy of him hee wronge the bell,
And layd vp the gloues & the treasure, [page 374]
& christened the child with much honor,
& in the worshipp of the holy Triny tye
212 he called the childs name Sir Degree ;
ffor Degree, to vnderstand I- wis,
a thing that almost lost itt is ;
as a thing; that was almost lost aaroe, 7
216 therfore he called his name soe.
1 briere. — P. Pronounced brere
Levins, col. 209, 1. 15.— F.
2 dwelling. — P.
3 servant-boy. — P.
4 puer, famulus. Jun. — P. grome
Utt. grome. — Ff.
see 5 honde.— P.
6 There is a tag at the end like an s.
—F.
7 gone, past. — P. A Dcgarer would
no doubt be formed from a Low-Latin
devagari, as degaster from devastate. — F.
SIR DEGREE.
27
the Hermitt he was a holy man of liffe,
& he had a sister which was a wiffc,
& sent this child to her full raue l
220 w/th much mono by his knaue,
& bade that shee shold take good heede
the litle child to Nourish & ffeede.
this htle Chyld Degree,
224 vnto the Cytye borne was hee.
the goodman & the wiffe in fifere
kept the child as itt their owne were
till the time 10° 2 winters were come & spent ;
225 then*to the hermitt they him sent,
the hermitt longed him to see ;
then was [he] a ffayre child & a ffree,
& he taus-ht this child of clarkes Lore
232 other 10 winters without more ;
& when hee was of 20 yeere,
hee was a man of great power, 3
a staleworth 4 man in euerye worke,
236 & of his time a well good clarke. 5
then he tooke [him] his fflorence & his gloues
that he had kept ffrom [him] in his house, 6
& gaue him his owne letter to reade.
240 hee looked there-in the same steade 7 ;
"hermitt," hee sayd, " ffor St. Charytye,
was this letter made by 8 mee ? "
and sends
him to his
sister
to be suckled.
She brings
the boy up
till he is 10
years old,
and then
sends him
back to the
hermit,
who teaches
him till he's
20,
then gives
him his
mother's
money,
gloves, and
letter,
1 rathe [in pencil] P. C— P. rathe
(=raue). — Utt. soon. — Ff. and grome
for knaue in 1. 220. - ten.— P.
3 powere. — P. ' stout. — P.
5 And of his tyine,* a well good cderkc.
—Utt.
And also of hys tyme, a godo clerko.
~Ff.
fi IIo toko hym hys tresure and hys
gloffe
That he had token to hys be-hoffe.
— Ff.
lit. has no Mm in 1. 237, hut has it in
1. 238.— Skeat.
7 IIo loked therin the same stede.f
—Utt.
And he behelde all that dede. — Ff.
s about, concerning. — F. Same in
Utt. as in Percy. Was Jjys lettur wretyn
for me ? — Ff. — Skoat.
* " of hys time ''=/<>?• his time, /or his day. — Skeat.
t "the same stede" = thereupon ; lit. at the same place, = Fr. sur le champ. — Skeat.
28
SIR DEGREE.
and tells him
how he
found
him.
Degree
thanks the
hermit,
"I, Sir," liee sayes, "by him that mee deeme shall,
244 thus I you. Sound ; " and told him all.
he sett him on his knees ffull blythe,
& thanked the hermitt often sythe ;
& he gaue the hermitt halfe of the golde ;
248 & the remnant vp did hee ffoulde.
and says he'll
search out
his father,
armed only
with a good
oak sapling.
Degree sets
off through a
forest,
[The Second Part.]
[How Degree kills a Dragon, and prepares to fight a King.]
^Then sayes Degree, " I will not blinne l
till I haue ffound my ffather or some of my
kinne. 1 "
" to seeke thy kinne 1 thou mayst not endure
2': parte. <t without horsse or good armour. 2 "
then sayd Degree, " by St. Iohn,
horsse nor harnesse He haue none,
but a good bitter 3 in my hand,
256 Lmine enemyes therewith to withstand,
A full good sapline of an oke ;
& home 4 therewith 1st sett a str[o]ke, —
haue hee neuer soe good armour him on,
260 or be hee neuer soe tall a man, 5 —
I shall him ffell to the ground
with this same batt in that stond."
the Child kissed the hermitt thoe, 6
264 & alsoe tooke his leaue to goe.
fforth went Degree, the sooth to say,
throughout a fforrest halfe a day ;
he heard noe man, nor saw none,
268 till itt passed the hye noone ;
MS. me for nno. — F.
armoure.
8 A.-S. bitd, beetle.— F,
4 on whom. The o of stroke in this
lino is eaten out by ink.— F.
mon.
-P.
6 then.— P.
SIR DEGREE.
29
then heard hee great stroakes ffall
that made great noyse wi'thall.
fFull soone lie thought that thing to see,
272 to witt what the stroakes might bee.
there was an Erie stout & gay
was come thither that same day
to hunt ffor a deere or a doe,
276 but his hounds were gone him ffroe.
& there was a Dragon ffeirce and grim,
fFull of flyer & alsoe of venim,
wt'th a wyde throate, & tushes great,
280 vpon the Erie can he beate ;
& as a Lyon were his ffeete ;
his tayle was long & ffull vnmeete ;
betweene his head & his tayle
28 1 22 flbote without ffayle.
his belly was like a whole tunn,
itt shone ffull bright againe the l ssunn.
His eyen as bright as any glasse, [page 375]
288 his scales as hard as anye 2 brasse ;
& therto hee was necked like a horsse,
& bare his head vpp with great ffbrce ;
hee was to looke on, as I you tell,
292 as thoe hee had beene a fleende of hell ;
many man hee had shent, 3
& many a horsse hee had rent ;
& to this Erie hard battell he began,
296 but hee defended him like a man,
& boldlyc stroke on him With his sword 4 ;
but of his stroakes he was not affeard,
ffor his skin was as hard as anye stone,
300 where-ffore hee cold him noe harme done.
& when the Erie degree see,
he sayd " hclpe, ffor Charytye ! "
and at noon
hears a
noise of
blows.
He finds a
grim dragon
24 feet long,
looking like
a fiend of
hell,
attacking nn
Earl.
The Earl
calls on
Degree to
help him,
1 There is a tag to the c. — F.
1 ( Ine stroke too 6 w in the MS.
3 int. al. marred, spoiled, &e. — P.
I'. * swerde. — P.
30
SIR DEGREE.
and Degree
knocks the
dragon
down.
But it
recovers,
and cuts
Degree
down.
For which
Degree
smashes the
dragon's
brains out.
The Earl
asks Degree
to his palace,
knights him,
and offers
hi in half his
land
tli en answered Sir Degore,
304 " gladlye ! " he sayes, and god before. 1
when the dragon of Degree had a sight,
hee left the Erie, & came to him right,
then the Child that was soe younge
308 tooke his staffe that was soe stronge,
& smote the dragon on the crowne
that in the wood hee ffell downe.
the dragon recouered anon-right,
312 & hitt the Child with such might
with his tayle in that tyde,
that hee ffell downe vpon his side,
then degree 2 recouered anon-right,
316 & defended him with much might ;
with his staffe that was soe longe
he broke of him ffoote and bone
that itt was wonder ffor to see.
320 hee was soe tanghe 3 hee might not dye,
yett hee hitt 4 him on the croAvne soe hye
that hee made his braines ont fLye. 5
then the Erie was glad & blythe,
324 & thanked Degree often sithe, 6
& he prayed him hee wold with him ryde
vnto the pallace there beside ;
& there he made him a ~K.night,
328 & made him good cheere that night ;
rents, tresnre, & halfe of his Land
hee wold hane seized 7 into his hand,
1 God before (Utt. ; Ff. omits it.— Sk.)
i.e. God going before, God giving his
aid. Compare, —
" for, God before,
We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's
door."
Shakespeare's I Inn*)/ V. i. 2.
"Yet, God before, tell him we will
come, on." — find. iii. o.
1 <pioto these passages to show that
this expression, which was very common
in our earliest poetry, continued long in
use. — Dyce.
* ? MS. dregree.— F.
3 toughe. — P.
1 smote. — Utt.
. 3 And on the hed ho hym hatrid,
That hys hedd all-to-clatride. — Ff.
,! times. — P.
7 put into possession. Jun. — P.
SIR DEGREE.
31
& alsoe Lis daughter to be his wiffe,
332 & all his lands after his liffe.
& then Sir Degree thanked him hartilye,
and prayed him, " of his curtesye
to lett his women affore him come,
336 wiues, mayds, more and some,
& alsoe jour daughter eke ;
& if my gloues be ffor them meete,
or will vpon of any of their hands,
340 then wold I be ffaine ' to take my 2 Lands ;
& if my gloues will not doe soe,
I will take my leaue and goe."
all the women were out brought
344 that thereabout might be sought,
& all assayd the gloues then,
but they were ffitt for no woman.
Sir Degree tooke his gloues thoe,
348 & alsoe tooke his leaue to goe.
the Erie hee was a ~Lord of gentle blood,
hee gaue Sir Degree a steede ffull good,
& therto gaue him good armour 3
352 which was ffairc and sure,
& alsoe a page his man to bee,
& a hackney to ryde on trulye.
then fforth went Sir Degree, the sooth to say,
356 many a mile vpon a summers day.
soe vpon a day much people he mett ;
he houed * still, & ffayre them grett ;
he asked tin- squier what fcydinge,
360 & wence came all those people rydinge.
the squier answered verament,
he sayd, " they came fl'rom the pro-lament.
& when they powlaiment was most planere,"
364 the King lett cry both farr & nere
and his
daughter.
Degree asks
to see all his
womankind :
if his gloves
fit any one,
he'll wed
her;
if not, he'll
go away.
The gloves
fit none of
the women,
so Degree
takes leave
of them.
The Earl
gives him
a steed,
armour,
and a page
mounted.
They start,
and meet
a crowd
coming from
tin 1 Parlia-
ment
of a King
who has
1 glad.— P. '-' your. I'.
3 1'. lias added an e ;ii the end in the
.MS, F.
4 halted, stood.— F.
full.
32
SIR DEGREE.
promised his
lands and
daughter
to any
knight
who'll joust
with him.
No one has
been able to
do it,
for the King
has broken
their necks
or backs,
or speared
or killed
them.
Degree
resolves to
try the King,
meets him,
and saysho'll
joust with
him.
The King is
»/l;. -I.
' If any man durst be soe bold
As with, the King lust wold, [pagc37«j
he shold haue his daughter in marryage,
368 & all his lands & his herytage.'
itt is a land good and ffayre,
& the king thereto hath no hey re.
certaine no man dare grant thereto ;
372 many a man assay d, & might not doe,
for there is no man that rides to him
but hee beates them with stroakes grim ;
of some hee breakes the necke anon ;
376 of some he brakes backe and bone ;
some through the bodye hee glyds ;
& some to the death hee smites.
vnto him may a man doe nothinge,
380 such a grace euer hath our Kinge."
Sir Degree stood in a study then,
& thought hee was a mighty man,
" & I am in my younge blood ;
384 & I haue horsse & armour goode,
& as I trow I haue a good steede ;
I will assay if I can speede ;
& if I can beare that King downe,
388 I shalbe a man of great renowne ;
& if hee mee Sell can,
there knowes no body who I am."
thus in the Citye his inne he takes ;
392 he rested him, & merry makes.
soe on a day the King hee mett,
he kneeled downe, & faire him grett,
& sayd, " my Lor<i, thou King of much might !
396 my Lord hath sent mee to thee right
to warne you how itt must bee :
my Jjord will come & flight with yec ;
to lust with thee my Lord hath nomm. 1 "
400 the King sayd, " lice shalbe welcome,
1 nomm, i.e. taken ; undertaken ; or taken upon him. —P.
SIR DEGREE.
33
be hee rZnight or Barrowne,
Erie, duke, or Clmrle l in towne :
theres no man He 2 fforsake ;
404 who all may winn, all let him take."
soe on the Morrow the day was sett,
the "King aduised much the bett,
but there was not any liuing man
408 that Sir Degree trusted vpon ;
but to the church that day went hee
to heare a Masse to the trinitye ;
& to the ffather hee offered a ffloren,
412 & to the sonne another ffine ;
the 3? to the holy ghost hee offered ;
the preist in his masse ffor him hee prayed.
& when the Masses were done,
416 vnto his inne hee went ffull soone,
where hee did arme him well indeed
in rich armor good att need,
his good steed he began to stryde ;
420 he tooke his speare, & fforth gan ryde.
his man tooke another spere,
and after his "Master did itt beare :
thus in the ffeild Sir Degree abode then,
424 & the Kmg came with many men.
Next
morning
Degree
goes to Mass,
then arms
himself,
mounts,
and rides
into the field,
where the
King meets
him.
a slave, a vassal. See Chauc. — P.
2 there is
I will.— P.
TOL. III.
34
SIR DEGREE.
The lookers-
on
have never
seen so fair a
man
as Degree.
The King
breaks his
spear on
Degree
without
moving him,
and says
he is a man.
They charge
again,
and the King
nearly
unhorses
Degree,
who gets
angry.
3? parte. «<
432
436
440
444
448
452
[The Third Part.]
[How Degree throws the King, and marries his own Mother.]
Many came thither readylye
ffor to see their iusting tralye ;
& all that euer in the ffeild were,
they sayd & did sweare
that ' ere that time the neuer see
soe ffayre a man with their eye
as was that younge Knight Sir Degree ; '
.but no man wist ffrom wence came * hee.
They rode together att the last
vpon their good steeds ffull ffast :
to dashe him downe he had meant,
& in his sheild sett snch a dint 2
that his good speare all to-brast ;
but Sir Degree was strong, & sate fast.
then sayd the King, " alas, alas !
this is a wonderffull case.
there was neuer man that I might hitt
that might euer my stroake sitt !
this is a man ffor the nones 3 !
he is a man of great bones ! "
they rode together then with great randome, 4
& he had thought to haue smitten the child downe,
& he hitt Sir Degree soone anon
Right vpon the brest bone,
that his horsse was reared on hye,
& Sir Degree he was ffallen nye,
& yett Sir Degree his course out yode,
& waxed angrye in his moode ;
he sayd, " alacke ! I haue mist yett,
and hee hath mee twyse hitt ;
[page 377]
1 cane MS.— F.
2 perhaps dent, impression, mark.
-P.
3 made on purpose for this adventure.
-P.
4 precipitation, see Jun. — P.
SIR DEGREE.
35
by god I will aduise better,
456 I will not long be his debtor ! "
then they rode together with much might,
& in their shields their speres pight l ;
& in their sheelds their speres all to-broke 2
460 vnto their hands with that stroke.
& then the Kmg began to speake,
" giue me a speare that will not breake,
& he anon shall be smitten downe
464 If hee were as strong as Sampson.
& if hee bee the devill of hell,
I shall him downe ffell ;
& if his necke will not in too,
468 his backe shall, ere I doe goe."
the Kmg tooke a spere stiffe & strong,
& Sir Degree another strong & longe,
& stoutlye to the Kmg hee smitt.
472 [The 3 ] Kmg ffayled ; Sir Degree him hitt,
he made the Kings horsse turne vp his ffeete,
& soe S^r Degree him beate.
then there was much noyse & crye ;
476 the King was sore ashamed welnye,
& well I wott his daughter was sorrye,
ffor then shee wist that shee must marrye
vntill a man of a strange countrye
430 the which, before shee neuer see,
& to lead her Hue with such a one
that shee neuer wist from whence hee came. 4
the King sayd then to S/r Degore,
484 " come hither, my ffayre sonne, me before,
ffor if thou were as a gentle a man
as thou art seeming to looke vpon, .-
& if thou coldest witt & reason doe
488 as thou art doughtye man too,
They charge
again,
and shiver
their spears.
The King
calls for a
fresh one :
he'll break
Degree's
neck or
back.
But Degree
upsets him
and his
horse too.
The King's
daughter is
sorry
that she'll
have to
marry a
stranger.
The King
calls Degree,
1 struck, Gl. Chaucer. — P.
2 There is a blotted letter in the MS.
with an r over it. — F.
3 The.— P.
u 2
(•(line.
36
SIB DEGREE.
pires him
hi?
daughter,
and makes
him heir of
his lauds.
Degree
marries
the
daughter,
(no: trying
â– 'ves
on her),
and she's his
own
mother !
But neither
knows this.
After noon
they are
put to bed
solemnly,
and then
Degree
I wold thinke my Lands well besett
if itt were 5 times bett l ;
ffor -words spoken I must 2 needs bold.
492 afore mj Barrons that beene soe bold,
I take tbee my daugbter by tbe band,
& I cease 3 tbee into my Land
to be my beyre after mee,
496 in Ioy and blisse ffor to bee."
great ordinance tben tbere was wrougbt,
& to tbe cbnrcb dore tbey were brougbt,
4 & there were wedd in verament
500 vnto tbe holy Sacrament.
& looke what ffolly hapened there !
that he shold marry his owne mother, 5
the wh ich had borne him of her syde !
504 & bee knew nothing that tyde 6 ;
shee knew nothing of his kinne,
nor yett shee knew nothing of him,
but both together ordayned to bed,
508 yet pe/-aduenture they might be sibb. 7
this did Sir Degree the bold,
hee weded her to haue & hold,
itt passed on the hye time of noone,
512 & the day was almost done ;
to bed were brought hee and shee
with great myrth and solempnytyc.
So- Degree stood & behold tben,
516 & thought on the hermitt, the holy man,
that hee shold neuer [wed] ffor-tliy
neither wydow nor Ladye
1 better, larger. — F.
2 There are six strokes for mu in the
MS.— F.
ssession. — P.
4 The Cambridge MS. 1'f. ii. 38 is in-
complete, and ends here -with
And were w.-ddyd to-gedor rerament
vndur holy saerame:
lo ! what fortun and lalaunce
Be-fallyth many a man porow chau^ce,
And comyp forbe in-to vncowpe lede,
And takvth a -«-yfe. — Skeat.
P. has added c at the end in the MS.
-r.
Cp. the same incident in Eglamore,
vol. ii. p. 380, 1. 1065.— F.
7 kin, relations. — P.
SIR DEGREE.
37
wali-out shee might the gloues doe
520 lightlye on her hands towe.
" alacke ! " then saves S<r Degree,
" the time that euer I borne sliold bee ! "
& sayd anon with heauy eheere,
524 " rather then all my Kingdome heere
that is now ceazed into my hands, 1
That [I were fayre out of this lande." 2 ] [page 37S]
the King these words hard thoe,
52s & sayes, "my sonne, why sayst thou soe ?
is there ought against thv will
either done or sayd, that dov thee ill,
or any man that hath misdoone ?
532 tell mee, & itt shall be amended soone."
" no, Lord," sayes degree then,
"but for this marryage 3 done has beene.
I will not with no woman meddle,
536 neither wiffe, widdow, nor damsell,
without shee may these gloues doe
Lightly vpon her hands tow."
& when they Lady can that heere,
540 anon shee changed all her eheere,
for shee knew that the gloues longed to her,
& sayes, " giue me the gloues, fayre Str."
shee tooke the gloues in that steede,
544 & lightly vpon her hands them did.
then shee fell downe & began to cry ;
says, (i Lord god, I aske thee mercy !
I am the mother that did you bra re,
548 & you are mine owne sonne deere ! "
Sir Degree tooke her vp thoe
ffull lightly in his armes towe,
thinks of
bis gloves,
and laments
reless-
The King
asks what
the matter
is.
Degree Baya
he can lie
with no
woman
whom his
gloves will
not fit.
His wife
asks for
the gloves,
i hem
on,
and tells
Degree
she Is his
mother.
They rejoice
' Here follow a leaf and three quarters a The tag to the a, which 1 read e
in a different handwriting. — F. here, and in lines 555, 567, 568, may
'-' BIS. cut away. — F. not be mean! for one; but marryag
That nowe is seased into my hande would look ugly. — F.
That I were fayre out of this lande! — Utt.
38
SIR DEGREE.
ami kiss.
Then she
tells her
father
that Degree
is her son,
and how he
was begotten
on her.
Degree asks
her where
his father
is.
She can't
tell him.
but she
gives him
his father's
pointless
sword.
Degree
declares
that he'll
Not sleep
till he finds
is
father.
then either of other were ffull blythe, 1
552 & kissed together many a sithe.
the King of them had much marueile,
& at the noyse without fayle,
& was abashed of their weepinge.
556 " daughter ! what meanes this tiling ? "
" father," shee sayd, " will you itt heere ?
you wend that I a may den were,
no, truly, ffather, I am none !
560 for itt is 20 winters a-gone.
this is my sonne, god doth know,
& by these gloues see itt, Lowe ! "
shee told him altogether there
564 how hee was begotten of her.
& then bespake S?'r Degree,
" sweet mother ! " sayd hee,
" where is my fathers wooninge, 2
568 or when heard you of him any tydinge ? "
" sonne, 3 " shee sayd, " by heauen Kmye
I can tell you of 1dm noe tydinge.
but when thy father from me went,
572 a poyntles sword he me Lent,
& hee charged me to keepe itt then
till that time thow wert a man."
shee feicth 4 the sword anon tho,
& S/r degree itt out drew :
Long & broad itt was, pardye ;
there was not such a one in that country.
" now truly," sayes Degree then,
" hee that weelded itt was a man !
but if god of heauen hee may 5 keepe,
night nor day I will not sleepe
till that time I may my father see,
584 in Christcndome if that hee bee."
576
580
1 blifce, lsetus, Sax.
2 dwelling.— P.
:t ? MS. sound.— F.
4 Hero again is the cth for Ich noticed
bi fore, vol. i. p. 23, 1. 73, &c. &c.— F.
5 her nice. — P.
SIR DEGREE.
39
4' 1 parte <
592
596
600
604
608
Degree
makes
ready to
start,
and will
take only
his own
man with
him.
[The Fourth Part.]
[How Sir Degree sets out in search of his Father, falls in love, and undertakes to
fight a Giant.]
"He made [liim merry that ilk night,] l [page 379]
& on the morrow when itt was day light
hee went to the Chirch to heare a masse,
& made him ready for to passe.
the King sayd, " my next kinne, 2
I will giue thee ~Knights w/th thee to winne. 3 "
" Gramercy, Lo;v7," sayes Degree then,
." but wi'th me shall goe no other man
But my knaue that may take heede
of my armour & of my steede."
hee leapt on his horsse, the sooth 4 to say,
& forthe he rode on his Iourney.
many a mile & many a way
hee rode forth on his palfrey,
& euermor 5 hee rode west
vntil hee came to [a] 6 forrest.
there wild beasts came him by,
& Fowles song therto merrely.
they rode soe Long that itt grew to night ;
they sun went downe, & fayled light,
soone after the found a castell cleere, —
a Lady truly dwelled there, —
a fayre Castle of lime & stone,
but other towne there was none.
Sir Degree sayd to his knaue that tyde,
" wee will to yonder castle ryde,
& all night abyde will wee,
& aske Lodging ffor Charity."
They ride
westward,
and one
night
come to a
castle,
whore
Degree
resolves
612
to ask for
lodging.
1 p[rinted] c[opy]. — P. MS. pared pugnare, superare, lucrari, Bens'? Voc.
away. — F. -P.
2 The MS. lias one stroke too many.
— F.
3 A.S. winnan, lahorare, contendere,
4 Truth.— P.
6 ever anon. — P.
8 a.— P.
40
SIR DEGREE.
They ride
in,
and stable
their horses,
but can find
no one
about,
only a fire.
Degree sits
down on the
dais,
and soon
3 girls in
knicker-
bockers
come in
from
hunting,
but will not
speak to
him.
Then comes
a dwarf
four feet
high,
1 went.— P.
8 Bease, the upper
where tho high table
the bridge itt was undrawen thoe,
they gates they stood open alsoe.
into they castle they can speede,
616 but first they stabled vp their steede,
& the sett vp their hackney.
enonghe they found of corne & hay.
they yode l about & began to call
620 both in the court & in the hall ;
but neither for loue nor awe,
liuinge man they none sawe ;
but in the middst of the hall floore
624 they found a fayre fyer in that hower.
his man sayes, " leaue Sir,
1 haue wonder who hath made this flyer ? "
" but if hee come againe to night,
628 I will him tarry, as I am true 'knight"
hee sett him downe vpon the desse, 2
& hee made him well att ease.
soone after hee was ware of one
632 that into the dore gan to come :
3 maydens flayre & flree
were trussed vp aboue the knee ;
2 of them bowes did beare,
636 & other towe charged were
with, venison that was soe good.
then S*x Degree vp stoode,
& blessed them anon-wright.
640 but they spake not to the Knight,
But into a chamber they be gone, [page 379, col. 2]
& they shut they dore ffull soone. 3
anon then after that withall
644 a dwarffe came into the hall :
4 foote was they lenght of him ;
his visage was both great & grim ;
8 Only one stroke for the n in the MS.
Part of the Hall : — F.
stood. — P.
SIR DEGREE.
41
the hayre that on liis head was,
648 looked as yellowe as any glasse ;
with milke white Lace & goodly hlee,
ffull stoutly then Looked hee ;
hee ware a sercote ' of greene,
652 with hlanchmere 2 itt was ffringed, I weene ;
hee was well cladd & well dight,
his shoes were crooked as a Knight ;
& hee was large of ffoote & hand
656 as any man within the Land.
Sir degree looked on him thoe,
& to him renerence he did doe ;
but he to him wold not speake 3 a word,
660 but made him ready to lay the bord.
he Layd on clothe, & sett on bread,
alsoe wine white and red ;
torches in the hall 4 hee did light,
664 & all things to supper he did dight.
anon then with great Honor
there came a Lac??/ forth of her bower,
& with her shee had mayds 15
668 r;7iat were some in red, & some in greene.
Si'r degree ffollowed anon-right,
but they spake not to the "Knight ;
they yode 5 & washed euery one ;
672 & then to super wold shee gone,
that ffayre Lady that was soc bright.
att middest of the messe shee sate downe right,
& of euery side her maydens 5,
676 ffayre & goodlye [as any were] 6 aliue. 7
yellow -
haired,
green -
coated,
shoe-
crooked.
He too
won't say a
word to
Degree, but
lays the
table
for supper.
Then comes
a lady
with fifteen
maids,
who also
won't speak
to Degree.
The lady
and
her maidens
sit down to
supper.
1 Sur-coat. — P.
2 ? a kind of fur. — F.
3 nold speake, sic leg'! 1 — P.
4 The Sloane .MS. l>okc of Curtasye
us wax candles to the sitting- and
bed-moms, Candles of Paris (whatever
they were) to the hall al supper time.
In chainb«r no ly3t bez-shalh be brent,
Pot of wax Jjer-to, yf 30 take tent.
In halle at soper schalle caldelfl (so)
brenne
of parys, )>< r-in Jwt alle mew kenne.
Babees Boke &c. p. 327, 1. 833-6.
s went. — P.
G & goodlye as any were. p. c. — P.
7 On the back of pago 379, column 2 1 ? ,
42
SIR DEGREE.
Degree sits
down too,
and takes
out his
knife,
but can
hardly cat
anything for
looking at
the beautiful
lady.
After supper
the lady goes
to her bed-
room ,
and Degree
follows her.
She plays
the harp,
1 " By god," then sayes S*'r Degree,
" I liaue you blessed, & you not mee ;
but you seeme dumbe. by St. Iobn
680 I will make you speake & I can ! "
Sir Degree cold of curtesye ;
he went & sett him before the Ladye.
& when hee had taken his seate,
684 hee tooke his kniffe & cut his meate. 2
null litle att [supper] eates hee,
soe much hee beholds this Mayden ffree ;
hee thought shee were the fayrest Ladye
688 that euer before hee did see.
& when that they had supped all,
the dwarffe brought watter into the hall ;
the yode & washed euery one, 3
692 & then to Chamber wold shee gone.
" now trulye," sayes Degree, " & after I will
to looke on this Ladye all my ffill."
soe vpon the stayres the way hee nome, 4
696 & soone into the Chamber hee come,
the Lady that was ffayre and bright,
vpon her bed shee sate downe right,
& harped notes sweete and nine.
700 her mayds Billed a peece 5 of wine ;
[page 380]
are written, in a Inter hand, the follow-
ing lines : —
I promised Silvia to he true,
nay out of zeale I swore it tooe ;
& that She might beleivc mo more,
gave her in writeing what I swore. —
nor vowes nor oathes can lovers hind ;
Soe long as pleased, soe long are kindc. —
it was on a leafe : the wind hut blew ;
away both leafe & promise flew.
[a space, and then] I tell thee Char-
miorn. — F.
1 Qere tho ordinary handwriting of
the MS. begins again. — F.
2 Kemenilicr that forks were a luxury
not then introduced. Assume thai I tegree
had washed his hands, and then he'd
have fulfilled the requirements of Trac-
tus Urbanitatis :
To be mete when bou art sette,
Fayre & honestly thow ete hyt:
Fyrst loke b«t by handes be elene,
And brtt by knyf be sharpe & kene,
And cutte by breed & alle by mote
Ryjth euen as bou doste hit ete.
Babees Boke &c. p. 14, 1. 39-44.
8 See the laying of the sum ape, or towel
for the lord to wash with, described in
Russell, p. 132 of Babees Boke &c, and
the washing at p. 323.— F.
■' nome, took. — P.
5 cup. See " Ffor to serve a Lord" in
Babees Boke, and Ladye Bessiye. — F.
SIR DEGREE.
43
& then S/r Degree sett him downe
ffor to heare the harpe sound ;
& through the notes of the harp shrill
704 he layd him downe and slept his mil.
that ffaire Lady that ilke night
shee bade couer the gentle Knight ;
& rich clothes on him they cast,
708 & shee went to another bed att Last.
& soe on the morrow when itt was day,
the Lady rose, the sooth to say,
& into the chamber they way can take.
712 shee sayd, "S/r Knight, arise and wake !
& then shee sayd all in game,
"you are worthy e ffor to haue blame !
ffor like a beast all night you did sleepe ;
71 G & of my mayds you tooke no keepe."
& then bespake S/r Degree,
" mercy, madam, & fforgiue mee !
the notes that thy harpe itt made, 1
720 or else the good wine that I had.
but tell me now, my Ladye hcnd, 2
ere I out of this chamber wend, 3
who is Lord in this Lande,
724 or who holds this castle in his hand,
& whether you be mayd or wiffe,
& in what manner you lead your liffe,
& why you [have] soe 4 manye women
728 alone with-out 5 any men."
" S/r," slice sayd, " I wold you tell
& if you wold amend itt well,
my ffather was a bold Barron,
732 & holden Lord ouer tower & towne,
& hee had neuer child but mee,
& I am heyre hecre in this countrye ;
plays Degree
to sleep,
and has him
covered with
rich clothes.
In the
morning
she wakes
him
and
reproaches
him for his
rudeness.
Degree begs
her pardon,
and asks
her
whether
she's
married,
and why she
has no men
there.
She says
tli at she is
her father's
heiress,
1 of tliy harpe it made, i.e. caused it,
Sc. my sleepiness. — P.
2 hend, gentle. Gl. Chau. — P.
3 wend, go. — P.
4 you | have] so. p. c.
5 wiihouten. — P.
44
SIR DEGREE.
and has had
many
suitors,
but a giant
who wants
her
has killed
'ein all.
She swoons,
and on her
recovery,
Degree
declares he'll
help her.
She promises
him her
lands
and herself
to do what
he will with.
Degree is
glad
of the
chance of
winning her.
The giant
approaches,
and the
drawbridge
is drawn up.
& there liath woed [me] many a TLwight
736 & many a Squier well clight ' ;
but there then woones there beside
a stout Gyant, & hee is ffull of pryde,
& hee hath me desired long and yore 2 ;
740 & him to loue I can neuer more ;
& hee hath slaine my men eche one,
all sauing my sorry dwarffe alone."
as shee stood talking, shee fell to the ground
744 & swooned there in that stond.
& then her Damsells about her come
& comfort her, & her vp nome. 3
the Ladye wakened, & looked on Sir Degree.
748 " O Leaue Dame ! " then sayes hee,
" be not adread while I am here ;
ffor I will helpe thee to my power. 4 ' :
"Sir," shee sayes, " all my Lands
752 I doe itt ceaze into jour hands,
& all my goods I will thee giue,
& alsoe my body while I doe Hue, 5
& ffor to bee att yowr owne will
756 earlye, late, lowde, and still,
yea and jour Leman ffor to bee,
to wreake 6 mee vpon my enemye."
then was S/r Degree ffaine 7 to ffight
7 GO to defend this Ladye in her wright,
& ffor to sloe the other Knight
& winne the Ladye that was soe bright.
& as the stood talking in ffeere, 8
764 her damsells came with a heauy chcere,
& bade " draw the bridge hastilye ;
for yonder comes jour enemye ;
w/thout you itt draw soone, anon
768 hee will destroye vs euerye one.''
[page 381]
1 drek'd, dressed.— P.
8 bofore, formerly. — P.
3 nome, took. — P.
4 P. has added an c at the end.
-F.
5 Tins line is partly pared away-
6 revenge. — P.
7 glad.— P.
8 together. — P.
SIR DEGREE.
45
[The Fifth Part.]
5 a . parte<
776
780
784
'88
;:»j.
796
[How Sir Degree kills the Giant, fights and finds his Father, and marries his Love. |
"Sir Degree hee start vp anon Degree
& thought to make him readye soone,
& out of a window liee him see ;
then to his horsse ffull soone did hye.
soe stout a man as hee was one,
in armor say l shee neuer none.
then Sir Degree rode fforth aniaine rides forth.
ffor to ryde this Gyant againe :
The smote together hard in soothe The giant
. charges him,
that Sir Degrees horsse backe brake in 2. and breaks
his horse's
" thou hast," say es Sir Degree, "slaine my goodsteede, back in two.
but I hope Isl quitt well thy meede !
to sloe thy steed nought I will,
but flight w/th thee all my flill."
then they ffoughten on ffoote in ffeere
w/th hard strokes vpon helmetts Cleere.
the Gyant hee gaue Sir Degree
huge strokes that were great plentye,
and Sir Degree did him alsoe
till his kelmett & basenett 2 were burst in 2.
the Gyant hee was agreeued sore
because he had of his blood ffbrlore, 3
& such a stroke he gaue Sir Degree thoc
that to the ground he made him goe.
Sir Degree recouered anon-right,
& such a stroke hee gaue that Knight,
& vpon the crowne soe hee itt sett,
I hut througe his holme and basenett
Then they
fight
on foot,
giving one
another
huge
strokes.
The giant
fells Degree ;
hill lie
recovers
himself,
SOU
he made his sword to goe through his head,
& then the gyant ffell downe dead.
this Ladye lay in her castle,
& shee saw the whole battell,
and kills
the giant.
The lady is
as glad as
' saw. — P.
' 2 head-piece. — P.
» lost.— P.
46
SIR DEGREE.
the birds of
daylight,
thanks
Degree,
kisses liim
100 times,
gives him all
her lands
and goods
and herself.
Degree
says he must
first seek
adventures
for a year ;
then he'll
come to her.
He rides
westward
till a knight
in rich
armour
rides up to
him
& shee was glad to see that sight
as euer the bird was of daylight.
then Sir Degree came into the hall,
804 & against him came the damsell,
& shee thanked him ffor his good deed,
& into her chamber shee did him lead,
& vnarmed him anon thoe,
808 & kist a 100 times and moe,
& sayd, " Sir, now all my Lands
I doe ceaze into thy hands,
& all my goods I doe thee gine,
812 & my bodye the whilest I Hue,
& ffor to bee att jour owne will
ear lye, late, lowd, and still."
he sayd, " Madam, godamercye
8 1 6 ffor all the ffavour yon hane granted mee !
but I must into ffarr countiyee,
more aduentures ffor to see
vntill this 12 monthes be agoe, 1
820 & then I will come you toe."
hee betooke her to the heauen Kmg.
the Lady wept att their departinge.
hee leaped on his horsse, the soothe to say,
824 & rode fforth on his Iourney ;
& euermore he rode west
till a Lane he ffound in a fforrest,
& there came to him [pricking a] Knight 2
828 That well was armed, & on his horsse dight [page 3Si>]
in armour that wold well endure,
with ffine gold and rich azure,
& 3 bores heads where thcrin,
832 the w7w'ch were of gold fline ; —
itt might well bee his owne, soones ffcll, 3
ffor once hee woone them in battcll ; —
1 gone, past. — P.
2 MS. cut away.— F. pricking a K\ —P.
3 sa?is faile, without fail. Sec 1.841.
-F.
SIR DEGREE.
47
& he sayd, " villaine ! what doest thou here
836 within my fforrest to sloe my deere ? "
Si'r Degree answered him w<'th words meeke,
& sayes, " of thy deere I take noe keepe,
but I am an aduenturous 'Knight,
840 & I am goinge to seeke warr & flight."
his ffather answered & sayd sans ffell,
" if thou be come flbr to seeke battell,
buske 1 thee shortlye in a stonde,
844 flbr thy fiellow thou hast flbunde."
then looke what ffolly happened that tyde !
the sonne againe the ffather did ryde,
& neither knew of other right ;
848 & thus they began to flight.
they smote together soe hard in soothe
that their horsses bacckes brake bothe ;
& then they ffbught on ffoote in fere
852 with hard strokes vpon helmetts cleere.
& this his ffather amarueyled was
of his sword that was poyntles,
& sayd to him anon-right,
856 " abyde awhile, thou gentle Knight !
where was thou borne, in what Land ? "
" St'r," hee sayd, " in England.
a Kings daughter is my mother ;
860 but I cannott tell who is my ffather.
" what is thy name ? " then sayes hee.
" Sir, my name is Degree.'"
" St'r Degree, thou art right welcome !
864 ffbr well I know thou art my sonne.
by that sword I know thee heere ;
the poynt is in my poteuere. 2 "
hee tooke the poynt & sett itt tooe, 3
868 & they accorded both tooe. 4
and asks
him why he's
come to kill
his deer.
Degree says
he doesn't
want his
deer,
but to fight.
The knight
tells him
to make
ready,
and they
fight
fiercely
till the
knight
sees that
Degree's
sword is
pointless,
and asks him
where he was
born.
"In
England.
But I know
not my
father.''
" Welcome,
my son!
I know \ on
by your
Bword."
Be I'ns the
point on to
it,
1 prepare. — P.
2 A pocket or pouch.
Sec Boy $
Mantle, vol. ii. p. 305, 1. 21.— F.
■? MS. looc.--F. to.— P. •' tho.
-P.
48
SIR DEGREE.
and father
and son are
reconciled.
They go
together
to England.
Degree's
mother
recognises
his father,
and they are
married.
Degree
marries his
own love ;
and so his
troubles
are over.
soe long they haue spoken together,
both the sonne and the ffather,
that they haue both accorded att one,
872 the ffather & the sonne alone,
then went fforth Sir Degree
with his owne ffather trulye.
vntill they niight England see,
576 they drew thither as they wold bee ;
& when they to the ISLmgB palace were come,
they were welcome w^'th all and some.
& there they Ladye spyed them ouer a Avail,
880 & to them shee began to call,
& shee sayd, " my deere sonne, S/r Degree,
thon hast thy ffather brought with thee ! "
" now thankes be to god ! " sayd the Kinge,
884 " ffor now I know with-out leasinge
who is Degrees ffather indeede."
the Ladye swooned in that steade.
then shee & her sonne were parted in twaine,
888 ffor hee & shee were to nye of kinne ;
& then this ~Knight wedded that ffayre Ladye
before all the Lords in that conntrye.
& then went fforth S/r degree,
892 & soe did the Kmg & all his meanye ;
vnto the castle the roden in ffere —
w/th a companye right ffayre —
where dwelled this l Ladye bright
896 w7wch before he wan in ffight.
& there Sir Degree marryed that gay Ladye
before all the nobles in that countrye.
& thus came the Knight out of his care.
900 god grant vs all well to ffare I
ililis.
1 that.— P.
[" Iaa May Morning " and " The Turke vn Tmien" printed in L. & Hum.
Songs, p. 7A-79, follow here, and take wp p. 383 of the MS.]
49
2 This poem, which is certainly one of the finest in the Folio
Manuscript, is now printed for the first time, and, as it would
appear at present, from the only copy of it in existence. From
its allegorical nature, it contains no historical allusions to assist
us in discovering its date or its author, and the only way left is
to examine the internal evidence. From this, however, it is plain
that the author wrote the poem in imitation of Langland's
Vision of Piers Plowman ; and a comparison of the two throws
considerable light upon its construction and its language. The
author seems most indebted to the later passus of Piers PIoav-
man, and I should infer from the line,
& bade them barre bigglye • Belzebub his gates, 3 (1. 390)
and from other indications, that the particular text of Piers
Plowman which he knew best was the latest one. And since
the latter part of this latest text was very likely not written
much before 1380, we may be tolerably certain at the outset
that the date of " Death and Liffe " is, at any rate, later than this.
Again, if we compare k ' Death and Liffe " with one of the latest
pieces of alliterative verse known, viz., the " Scotish ffeilde " (see
vol. i. p. 1 99 of the present work), we see a remarkable similarity
1 2 fitts. Two of these short Lines are Langland's Vision of whom this poem is
properly but one.— P. The Anglo-Saxon imitated. Ami as tin- stop helps tho
alliterative poems are usually written as reader by marking the pause in each Line,
prose with frequenl dots, and printed il has been carried on through the lines
commonly in short lines; the Early Eng- which are written lung in the MS. and
li h ones in long lines. The lines of the without pause-marks. — F.
present poem in the Folio MS. are written -This Introduction is by the Rev.
short to I. 87 of the text. They are hero W. W. Skeat K.
printed long, with an inverted full Btop 'â– ' See Whitaker's edition of Piers Plovi-
ai the break between them, after Mr. »ia»,p. 354. The passage about "barre
Bkeat's plan in his Piers Plowman, from we |>e jatos" is not in Wright's edition.
VOL. III. E
50 DEATH AND LIFFE.
in the style, diction, and rhythm of these two poems. I have little
doubt but that the same man was the author of both. There is,
in both, the same free use of the words leeds, frekes; bearnes,
segges, as equivalent to men; the same choice of peculiar words,
such as iveld (to rule over), to keyre to (to turn towards), to ding
(to strike), even down to the occurrence in both of the unusual
word nay, as equivalent to ne, i.e. nor. Where we find in
" Death and Liffe,"
the red rayling roses â– the riches of flowers (1. 24),
we find the corresponding line in " Scotish ffeilde," viz.
rayled full of red roses • and riches enowe (1. 26).
So too, the line in " Death and Liffe,"
a bright tmrnisht blade â– all bloody leronen (1. 172),
is explained by
till all bis bright armour â– was all blovdye bercnen (1. 31 of S. F.).
We may even venture, with confidence, to correct one poem by
help of the other. Thus, in S. F. 1. 337,
many squires full swiftly â– were snapped to the death,
it is certain, no less from the Lyme MS. than from the alliteration,
that squires and snapped should be swires and swapped. And
we find the word sweeres, accordingly, in D. & L. 1. 54. As
another instance, take D. & L. 1. 407 :
he cast a light on the Land â– as beanies on the sunn.
Here on is obviously an error for of; and it at once occurred to
me that beanies is an error for leames, the older form, and the
only one that agrees with the alliteration. This conjecture is
changed to certainty by observing S. F. 1. 309 :
with leames full light â– all the land over.
Once more, we find, in D. & L. 1. 185,
botli enuye & anger â– in their yerne weeds.
DEATH AND LIFFE. 51
If we consider yerne to mean eager (cf. 1. 250), we get no
particular sense, and destroy the alliteration ; but if we take it to
mean iron, we are right both ways. That this is correct, is
rendered probable by a similar expression in S. F. 1. 363, viz.,
" in their Steele weeds," which is not dubious at all.
It may be observed, too, that the two poems are very nearly of
the same length, and are both similarly divided into two pails.
I shall show presently that the author of " Death and Liffe " was
familiar with "Piers Plowman," and it is equally certain that the
author of " Scotish ffeilde " w 7 as so too. Compare S. F. 1. 106,
& profor him a present ' all of pure gold,
with the original line as it stands in " Piers Plowman,"
And profrede Pees a present • al of pure golde.
(P. PI. ed. Wright, p. 70 ; or ed. Skeat, p. 47.)
Percy himself seems to have been in two minds about this poem.
In one place he says, that " for aught that appears, [it] may have
been written as early [as], if not before, the time of Langland ; " !
and in another place he says, of the " Scotish ffeilde," and with
reference to " Death and Liffe," that " from a similitude of style,
[it] seems to have been written by the same Author." 2 The
former opinion is out of the question ; the latter is, I think, as
good as proved to be correct. Percy further says : " The subject
of this piece is a vision, wherein the poet sees a contest for
superiority between 'our lady Dame Life,' and the * ugly fiend
Dame Death;' who, with their several attributes and concomi-
tants, are personified in a fine vein of allegoric painting." 3 It
is, indeed, written with great boldness and vigour, and with no
small skill. Life is represented as beautiful, loving, cheering
and blessing all things with her gracious and happy presence,
whilst, on the other hand, and in perfect contrast, Death is
1 Ri liqu is, rol. ii. p. '■'•o:i (.5ili ed.) sent work.
- See vol. i. p. 199, note, of the | re- ;1 Reliques, rol. ii. p. 304.
]â– : '1
52 DEATH AND LIFFE.
repulsive, terrifying, unsparing, with sorrow and sickness in her
train.
The picture of Lady Life as she comes " ever laughing for love,"
is the happiest piece of description in the Folio. All nature
" sways to her as she moves, and circles her with music : "
. . as shee came by the bankes â– the boughes cche one
they lowted to that Ladye â– & layd forth their branches ;
blossomes & burgens â– breathed full sweete,
fflowers fflourished in the frith â– where shee fforth stepedd,
cf- the grass that was gray ' greened beliue ;
breme birds on the boughos â– busilye did singe,
§■all the wild in the wood • whilye the ioyed. (1. G9-75.)
The dispute between the Ladies turns upon the real meaning
of the death of Christ. Death boasts of the fall of Adam and of
the thousands she has slain, and how she had pierced the heart
of our Lord himself. But, at the mention of His hallowed name,
Life rises up to reply victoriously, and to reprove unanswerably.
She reminds Death of Christ's resurrection, of His triumph over
all the powers of hell, of the impotence of her boasting, and of
her everlasting defeat and condemnation. The poet has a
glimpse of the glories of the general resurrection, and awakes
renewed in hope and comforted at heart with the indwelling
desire of the blessings of bliss everlasting.
I now proceed, finally, to show to what extent the poet was
indebted to his older and greater brother-artist, William Langland,
from whom no one need be ashamed to borrow. His obligations
are such as detract very little from his originality and genius,
but they are instructive to the reader, and therefore it is worth
while to point them out. I refer to Wright's edition of " Piers
Plowman," citing by the page as being most convenient.
A few similarities of expression may be first noticed.
(1) till that itt neighed mire noone (1. 137).
Cf. And it neghed neigh the noon (P. PI. p. 42t5).
(2) how didest thou lust atl [erusalem â– with Iesu my lord (1. 3G8).
Cf. Andjusten with Jhesus (P. PL p. 374) ; and again,
And who sliolde juste in Jerusalem (P. PI. p. 370).
DEATH AND LIFFE. 53
3. It is said of Lady Life,
& yett beffore thou wast borne - shee bred in thy hart (1. 128).
So, of Lady Anima, who is also Lady Life,
And in the herte is hir boom â– and bir mooste reste. (P. PI. p. 162.)
4. The expression "care thou noe more " (1. 131) occurs* in a
different poem altogether, viz. in Pierce the Ploughmans Crede
(1. 131, ed. Skeat, 1867); but the expression " to ken kindlye,"
in the former half of the same line, is from P. PI. p. 20.
5. In I. 119, pray sed should be prayed. Cf.
Thanne I courbed on my knees â– and cried bire 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 be shal fordo â– and adoun brynge
Al that lyveth and loketh â– in londe and in watre.
Lif seith that he lieth â– and leieth his lif to wedde,
That for al that Deeth kan do â– withinne thre daies
To walke and fecche fro the fend â– Piers fruyt the Plowman,
And legge it ther bym liketh â– and Lucifer bynde,
And for-bete and adoun brynge â– bale deeth for evere.
mors, ero mors tua, &c. (P. PI. p. 371.)
Again,
Lif and Deeth in this derknesse - hir oon fordooth hir oother.
Shall no wight wito witterly • who shal have the maistrie
Er Sonday aboute sonne risyng. (P. PI. p. 373.)
The idea of beholding all in a vision is common enough, as in
Chaucer's House of Fame and the Eomaunt of the Eose ; but
there are points in the present poem which are obviously adopted
from Langland, and from no one else. Thus the poet wanders
through a frith full of flowers (1. 22) :
I seigh lloures in tho frytb â– and hir faire colours. (P. PI. p. 224.)
He wanders by the river-side, and falls asleep (1. 26-3G) :
1 was wery forwandred ' and wente me to reste
Under a brood bank â– by a bournes side ;
And as 1 lay and lenede â– and lokod on the wains,
I slonibrcd into a slepyng • it sweyed so murye. (P. PI. p. 1.)
54 DEATH AND LIFFE.
Or, as Langland says on another occasion,
Blisse of the brickies â– broughte me a-slepe. (P. PL p. 155.)
Next, he imagines himself on a great mountain (1. 40) :
On a mountaigne that myddel-erthe â– higlite, as me though te. (P. PI. p. 221.)
Line - 49 he adopts from Langland, almost without alteration :
Me bifel a ferly â– of fairye, me thoghte. (P. PI. p. 1.)
He sees in his vision an innumerable host of people (1. 50-56) :
A fair feeld ful of folk ' fond I ther bitwene
Of alle manere of men • the meene and the riche. (P. PI. p. 2.)
In particular, he observes a lovely lady (1. 60) :
A lovely lady of leere â– in lynnen yclothed,
Cam doun from a castel • and called me faire. (P. PI. p. 15.)
She is in gorgeous attire, like a second lady described by Lang-
land :
And was war of a womman â– worthiHche y-elothed,
Purfiled with pelure â– the fyneste upon erthe,
Yeorouned 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.3 evidently Langland's Lady Anima, with her attendants
Sir Se-wel, Sir Sey-wel, Sir Here-wel, &:c. (P. PI. p. 160.) After
this, however, the poet's mind again reverts to Langland's Lady
Hollchirche, who says of herself:
I underfeng thee first " and the feith taughte. (P. PI. p. 19.)
Life offers to instruct him, but he is rather afraid of her, just
as Langland is of Eolichirche. But just then, a noise is heard
"in a nooke of the north;" i.e. in the quarter where Lucifer
dwells; cf. ponam peclem in aquilone, quoted in P. PI. p. 22,
or, as it stands in Whitaker's edition, at p. IS,
Lord, why wolde he tho â– thulke wrechede Lucifer
Lepen on a lofte â– in tho northe syde ?
The earth trembles at the approach of Death (1. 147):
The wal waggede and clecf • and al the world qnavcd. (P. PI. p. liTIL)
DEATH AND LIFFE. 55
Death appears, terrible and resistless, described by Langland
with astonishing vigour in the lines :
Deeth cam dryvynge after â– and al to duste passhed
Kynges and knyghtes â– kayscrs and popes. 1
Lered and lewed • he leet no man stonde
That he hitte evene " that overc stired after.
Manye a lovely lady and lemmans of knyghtes
Swowned and swelted â– for sorwe of hise dyntes. (P. PI. 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 2 (or gleam) shines around :
Tho while this light and this leme â– shal Lucifer ablende. (P. PI. p. 377.)
whilst a loud voice is heard, commanding Lucifer to unbar the
gates :
A vois loude in that light â– to Lucifer crieth,
Prynces of this place â– unpynneth and unlouketh. (P. PI. p. 385.)
And with that breeth belle brak â– 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 with
them to Paradise :
and tho that oure Lorde lovede â– 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 â– and right with that I wakede. (P. PI. p. 395.)
I have only to add that the poem known by the title of "The
1 Two more forcible lines are seldom 2 I have before shown that leames is
to be mel with. the true reading in 1. 407.
56
DEATH AND LIFFE.
Harrowing of Hell " has been edited by Mr. Collier and by
Mr. Halliwell ; that another version of it is to be found in " The
Parliament of Devils " (see " 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 (xospel of Mcodemus, for which see Cowper's recently
published translation of these Gospels.
[The First Part.]
!j HEIST, christen king â– that on the crosse tholed, 1
hadd 2 paines & passyons * to deffend our soules,
giue vs grace on the ground ' the 3 greatlye to serve
for that royall red blood â– that rami ffrom thy side,
& take 4 away of thy winne 5 word â– as the world asketh, 6
that is richer of 7 renowne ' rents or others,
for boldnesse of body â– nor blythenesse of hart,
and learning 8 coninge of Clearkes • ne cost vpon earth ;
but all wasteth away â– & worthes 8 to nought.
when death driueth att the doore 9 â– with his darts
keene,
then noe truse 10 can be taken ' noe treasure on earth,
but all Lordshipps be lost â– & the liffe both,
if thou haue pleased the prince ' that paradice weldeth, 1 l
there is noe bearne 12 borne " that may thy blisse recon ;
but if thou haue wrongffiilly wrought â– & will not
amend,
thou shalt byterlye bye 13 " or else the booke ffayleth.
Christ,
give us
gi-ace to
serve thee,
for all
strength
must come
to nought
when we
die.
12
The good go
to bliss,
the wrong
doers to
woe.
1G
1 qu. tholedst, i.e. suffered. Jun. — P.
2 qu. had. lest— P.
3 thee.— P.
4 i.e. & to take &e. in proportion (or
in Ihf same measure) as the World asks
other things. — P.
5 winne. A.S. vrinlic, jucundua ; wii n,
amicus. Lvc P.
Cp. Vis. of P. PL, Prol. : werchynge
& wandrynge ■as the world asketh. —
Skeat.
• Qu. or.— P.
8 turns or becomes, S. wrorjian, esse,
Fieri. Lye. worth, to wax, to become.
Gloss, to G. J).— P.
9 ? MS. doere.— F.
10 trusse, package. — F.
11 i.e. governeth. Juni. — P.
'- i.e. child, human creature: man &c.
Sec (law". Doug 9 , passim. — P.
13 InjiDi, Sax., habitare. possidere. — P.
abye, A.-S. abicgan. Cp. " Shal abien it
bittre. â– or the book lieth." P. PI. ed.
Wright, p. 68. Skeat.
DEATH AND LIFFE.
57
May God
bring us into
bliss !
were fflowers were r walked
through
a wood full
of flowers,
therfore begin in god â– to great en onr workes,
& in his naythffull sonne ' that ffreelye him followeth
in hope of the holy ghost ' that yeeld shall neuer.
20 god that is gracyous ' & gouerne vs all,
hringe vs into hlisse " that brought vs out of ball l !
thus ffared I through a ffryth 2
manye,
bright bowes in the banke ' breathed ffull sweete,
24 the red rayling 3 roses * the riches 4 of fflowers,
land 5 broad on their bankes ' w/th their bright Leaues,
& a riuer that was rich " runn ouer the greene
w/th still starring streames â– that streamed ffull bright.
28 over the glittering ground " as I there 6 glodo, 7
niethought itt Lenghtened my liffe
bankes.
then among the fayre flowers ' I settled me to sitt
vnder a huge hawthorne * that hore was of blossomes ;
32 I bent my backe to the bole 8 ' & blenched 9 to the
streames.
thus prest I on apace " vnder the greene hawthorne.
ffor breme 10 of the birds ' & breath of the fflowers,
& what for waching & wakinge ' & wandering about,
3G in my seate where I sate " I sayed a sleepe,
lying lvlgclnng on the ground " list n all my seluen,
< l< m i " • dreames and dright 12 " droue mee to hart,
methought walking that I was ' in a wood stronge,
40 vpon a great Mountains ' where Mores 13 were large,
with a
river
running
through,
to looke On the and the
sight
seemed to
lengthen
my life.
I sat down,
and the
birds' soug
sent me to
sleep,
and I
dreamed
that I
walked on a
mountain
[page 885]
1 bale, sorrow, misery. — P.
2 frith olira sylvani Nota vit. Ita Jul.
Burns devenerat. [?MS. | "Wherever you
fan, by frith or by fell," i.e. quocunque
Iter feceris, sive per sylvam, sive per
Campiim. Gloss, ad G. I). So Mmi^las
JEn. 6. 793, regnata per arva, "rang
(reign'd) baith be fryth & fald." And in
Prol. to Lib. 13. In frith or feilde.— P.
* Cp. "The roso rayleth hir rode."
Morris's Specimens, glossed "rayle, to
deck, ornament; rayleth, puts on (as a
garment). A.-S. hragel, a garmenl ;
whence aight-raii." Bui see railinge,
1. 376 below.— F.
' richest.— P.
5 ? leaned, or layd, as in 1. 63. — F.
6 It there, qu.— P.
7 i.e. glided, glade, Scot, apud G.
Douglas, est, went, passed, swiftly.
Gloss, ad G. Doxxglas. — P.
8 i.e. the body or trunk. — P.
9 shrunk, started, leaned towards. — P.
Cf. blink.— Skeat.
10 A. y. bremman, fremere: celebrare.
—P.
11 ? for lift, left, left alone.— Sk.
12 gnat, noble, fine, A.-S. driht. — Sk.
13 more, Mons, borealibuB Anglis. A.S.
mor, Minis. L[ye]. — P. Moors. — Skeat.
58
DEATH AND LIFFE.
whence I
saw-
all the world
in its wealth.
And on the
South I saw
a crowd of
knights,
princes,
dukes,
earls, and
squires.
On the
East I saw
a lovely
lady
that I might see on euerye side â– 17 miles,
both of woods & wasts * & walled townes,
comelye castles & Cleare ' with caruen towers,
44 parkes and Pallaces * & pastures ffull many,
all the world full of welth â– vuulye x to behold.
I sett me downe softlye ' and sayd these words :
" I will not here out of Kythe 2 ' before I know more."
48 & I way ted 3 me about ' wonders to know,
& 1 4 fiayrlye beffell • soe fayre me bethought
I saw on the south syde * a seemelye sight,
of comelye Knights full keene " & knights 5 ffull
noble,
52 Princes in the presse ' proudlye attyred,
D akes that were dough tye â– & many deere Erles,
Sweeres G & swaynes ' that swarmed ffull thicke ;
there was neither hill nor holtc 7 * nor haunt there
beside,
56 but itt was planted ffull of people ' the plaine and the
roughe.
there ouer that oste 8 ' Estward I looked
into a boolish 9 banke " the brightest of other,
that shimered 10 and shone " as the sheere n heauen
GO throughe the light of a Ladye • that longed l2 therin.
shee came cheereiug ffull comlye • with companye 13
noble,
vpon cleare clothes ' were all of cleare gold,
1 forte., wmlue,[.e. pleasantly, jucuncle.
Lye. — P. ? vievvlye. — F.
2 Kythe, knowledge. — P. region, A.-S.
cy%. — Skeat.
3 Old l ; ronch gaiter, to spy about. — -
Sk.
4 it, query. -P. " Mc bifel a ferly •
of fairye me thoghte." Vis. of P. PL, Pro-
logue. — Skeal .
■' Kings, Qu. — P.
6 forti squires. — P. Yes, often used
in AUit. Poems, ed. Morris &c. — F.
7 holt, a wood, a rough Place, &c.
Lye. h â– '/is, Scot., are hills, higher
grounds, or rather Woods & forrests
(so). Gloss, to G. P.— P.
8 hoste. — P.
9 Perhaps " tumid, swelling, rounded."
Thus bole in 1. 32, from Old English
bolne, to swell; see Partenay, s.v. bolned.
Cf. "The flax was boiled," Bible.— Sk.
10 idem etc glimmered, Chauc. A.S.
scymrian, to shine, glitter. L. — P.
" sheer, pure, char. Johns. — P.
12 lodged, longed. Qu. — P. Abode,
dwelt, A. -Sax. It ngian : lodged is quite
wrong. See 1. 136. — Sk.
IS Only half the n in the MS.— F.
DEATH AND LIFFE.
59
layd brode vpon the bent ' ' with, brawders 2 ffull richc,
04 before that ffayre 3 on the ffeeld â– where shee fforth
passed,
shee was brighter of her blee 4 ' then was the bright
sonn,
her rudd 5 redder then the rose â– that on the rise 6
hangeth,
meekely smiling with her moutli " & merry in her
lookes,
63 euer laughine for loue ' as shee like wold.
& as shee came by the bankes " the bougb.es eche one
they lowted 7 to that Ladye ' & layd forth their branches,
blossomes & burgens 8 ' breathed ffull sweete,
72 mowers flourished in the frith * where shee fforth
stepedd,
& the grasse that was gray " greened beliue ;
breme birds on the boughes ' busilye did singe,
& all the wild in the wood " winlye the ioyed.
76 Kmgrs kneeled on their knees ' knowing that Ladye,
& all the princes in the presse â– & the proud dukes,
Barrens & bachelours 9 ' all they bowed ffull lowe ;
all p/ofrereth her to please ' the pore and the riche.
80 slue welcometh them ffull winlye " with words ffull
hend, [page 386]
both barnes 10 & birds â– beastcs & fowlcs.
then thai lowly Ladye u â– on Land where shee standeth,
brighter
than the
sun,
redder than
the rose,
laughing
for love.
The boughs
bowed to
her,
the blossoms
breathed
sweet,
the grey
grass turned
green,
the wild
beasts were
glad,
kings
kneeled to
her,
the nobles
bowed,
and all
proffered to
please her.
She wel-
comed them
all.
1 In nt. where rushes grow — the field.
Gloss, ad G. Doug^ Declivity, [n Scotch
it signifies a field. See Gloss. P. layd
brode spread out, i.e. her train lay on
the ground. Cf. I. 25. Sk.
- i.e. embroideries.— P.
3 i.e. Fair thing, Fair Creature, v.
I. 150.— P.
4 complexion ; S. bleoh, color. — P.
5 ruilil. complexion. Jim. — P. A.-S.
rttdu, rudd i sic.
6 rises, Scot., are bulrushes, flags, ulva.
or it maj signify shrubs, bushes. < Muss.
ad <i. I*, rise, Chaucero est virga, sur-
culus, a shoot, sprig, &c. : e.g. "As
white as is tho blossom on the Rise."
Mi. G. 216: "As white us Lillie or
Rose on the rise." It. It. 1015. Jun.
— P. Ger. reis, a twig. Skeat.
7 A.S. hlutan, incurvare &c. .Tun. — P.
s burgen, burgeon, the same as bud.
Jun.— P.
;| i.e Knights. Thus in "King Richard
F''s Song (Qu. printed in Eor. Walpole's
royl Authors. St. (!. U bachaliers qi son
legiere sain doubtless means Knights.
See also many other places in this col-
li .t i' m. I'. See Gloss, to Lkik- h>t. Sk.
"' i.e. children, human creatures. — P.
11 lovely Lady. Vid. Lin. 258.— P.
60
DEATH AND LIFFE.
She was
clad
in green
her dress
cut low to
show her
breasts
and her
beautiful
neck.
A crown
was on her
head, and a
sceptre in
her hand.
Her suite
were,
Comfort,
Hope,
Love,
Courtesy,
and Honour
her steward.
that was comelye cladd ' in kirtle & Mantle
84 of goodlyest greene â– that euer groome l ware,
for the kind 2 of that cloth * can noe clarke tell ;
& shee the most gracyous groome ' that on the ground
longed ;
of her druryes 3 to deeme * to dull be my Avitts,
85 & the price of her [perrie 4 ] â– can no P[erson] 5 tell ;
& the colour 6 of her kirtle ' was caruen ffull lowe,
that her hlisfull breastes " bearnes might 7 behold,
with, a naked necke ' that neighed 8 her till,
92 that gaue light on the Land â– as beames of the sunn,
all the Kmgs christened â– with their cleere gold
might not buy that ilke broche 9 ' that buckeled her
mantle,
& the crowne on her head ' was caruen in heauen,
96 w/th a scepter sett in her hand â– of selcoth 10 gemmes :
thus louelye to looke vpon â– on Land shee abydeth.
merry were the Meanye u " of men that shee had,
bly th bearnes of blee ' bright as the sunn :
100 Sir Comfort, that Knight ' when the court dineth,
S/r Hope & S/r Hind " yee 12 sturdy e beene both,
Sir Liffe & S/r Likinge â– & Sir Loue alsoe,
Sir Cunninge 13 & S/r Curtesye ' that curteous were of
deeds,
104 & Sir Honor ouer all " vnder her seluen.
a stout man & a staleworth 14 â– her steward I-wisse.
1 groome, puer, famulus, also a young
man, see Johnson, from Fairfax: "in-
treat this groom & silly Maid." — here it
is used equivalent to homo, m. & f. — P.
2 Qu. kind : if knid, perhaps from
knitt.—P.
3 Drurie, chaueero denotat amicitiam,
amorem. Lye. Scot, gifts, presents,
love-tokens. Gloss, ad G. D. — P.
4 In this line a word is missing. It
is surely the word jierric, precious stones,
never missed in describing ladies: see
P. VI. ed. Wright, p. 511, note to 1. 901.
— Skeal.
5 Person. — P.
6 Qu. Collar, or y e Part round the
neck. See Johnson. — P.
' nnight MS.-F.
8 neighed them till. Qu. — P.
9 i.e. an ornament, jewel, clasp.
—P.
10 i.e. rarus. Lye. — P.
11 familia, multitude. Lye. — P.
12 that or who. Qu.— P.
1:1 One stroke too few in the MS.-
" i.e. fortis, stout, lusty, strong.
—P.
Jun.
-F.
Lye.
DEATH AND LIFFE.
01
sb.ee had Ladyes of loue " longed her about :
Dame mirth, & Dame Meekenes ' & Dame Mercy the
hynd, 1
108 dallyance & disport â– 2 damsells ffull sweete,
with all beawtye [&] blisse â– bearnes to behold,
there was minstrelsye made ' in full many a wise, —
who-soe had craft or cuninge " kindlye to showe, —
112 both of 2 birds & beastes ' & bearnes in the leaues ;
& ffishes of the fflood â– ffaine 3 of her were ;
birds made merrye with, their mouth ' as they in mind
cold,
tho 4 I was moued with that mirth â– that maruell mee
thought ;
116 what woman that was " that all the world lowted,
I thought speedylye to spye ' speede if I might,
then I kered 5 to a knight â– Sir Comfort the good, 6
kneeling low on my knees â– curteouslye him praysed.
120 I willed him of his worshipp â– to witt 7 me the sooth 8
of yonder h&dye of loue ' & of her royall meanye.
hee cherished me cheerlye â– by cheeke & by chin,
& sayd, "ccrtes my sonne â– the sooth thou shalt
knowe.
124 this is my Lady dame Line " that leadeth vs all,
slice is worthy & wise * the welder of Ioye,
greatlye gouerneth the ground ' & the greene grasse,
Bhee hath ffostered & fled thee â– sith thou was ffirst
borne,
128 &yettbeffore thou wast borne ' shee bred in thy hart,
thou art welcome, I-wisse ' vnto my winn Ladye.
If tlii.i i wilt wonders witt ' fcare not to ffraine, 9
Her ladies
were,
Mirth,
Mercy,
and Disport;
and about
her was
song of men,
of birds
and beasts.
I longed to
know who
this lady
was.
I knelt to
Sir Comfort
and asked
him to tell
me.
He said,
" She is
Lady Life,
who has
kept you
from your
birth.
Ymi are
well nine to
her."
1 Hine, villicus, A.S. hine, serrus,
domesticus. Lye. perhaps hend. — P.
Certainly hynd, hend, gentle. Skeat.
'-' of, delend. P. of=by, and is re-
quired by the verb made in I. 110. — Sk.
;| faine, hilar is, glad. Lye.- P.
4 i.e. then. P.
6 here, A.S. Cerran, cyrran, vertere.
I,Vr. I'.
■prayed, (hi.— I'. Lines 117-19 are
written as fcnir in the MS. — F.
7 witt, scire, hie est, facere notum. — P.
See ken, I. L31.- 1'.
8 sooth, varus, Veritas. Jun. I'.
!l frayne, interrogare. Jun. to ask,
desire. Gloss. G. D.— P.
62
DEATH AND LIFFE.
blowing a
burly blast,
and an
ugly ghost
appeared,
with a gold
crown,
136
I thought
I would be
hers for
ever,
and our
joy lasted
till an hour
after noon.
But by two 140
a horn \vn~-,
heard from
the North,
& I shall kindlye thee ken T ' cave thou noe more."
132 then I was fearfull enoughe • & ffaythfrullye thought
' that I shold long with, dame liffe â– & loue her for euer,
there shall no man vpon mold " my mind from her take
for all the glitteringe gold ' vnder the god of heanen.'
thus in liking this lininge * the Longed 2 the more
till that itt neighed neere noone ' & one hower after
there was rydinge & revell " that ronge in the hankes
all the world was full woe ' winne to 3 behold,
or itt turned from 12 • till 2 of the clocke,
much of this melody e " was maymed & marde:
In a nooke of the north â– there was a noyse hard,
as itt had beene a home ' the highest of others,
w/th the biggest bere 4 ' that euer bearne wist ;
& the burlyest 5 blast â– that euer blowne was,
throughe the rattlinge rout * runge ouer the ffeelds.
the ground g'ogled 6 for greeffe " of that grim dame ;
I went nere out of my witt ' for wayling care ;
yett I bode on the bent * & boldly e looked,
once againe into the north â– mine eye then I cast.
I there saw a sight â– was sorrowfull to behold.
152 one of the A^glyest 7 ghosts ' that on the earth gone,
there was no man of this sight ' but hee was affrayd,
soe grislye & great ' & grim to behold.
& a quintfull 8 queene 9 â– came quakinge before,
wi'thacarued crowneonher head â– all of pure gold, [p.387]
& shee the ffoulcst ffreake 10 ' that formed was euer
144
148
156
1 ken, scire, perspicere, wtelligrre. Jim.
here it signifies (transitively) to shew,
make known, inform. See Witt, ver. 1-0.
—P.
2 abode. MS. Longer. — F.
3 Avinn, Woe to. Qu. — P. The word
woe is the difficulty : may it be A.-S. wo,
wok, in the original sense of bent, in-
clined? Or rather, it's put for wo\d'\e =
mad. Wi tine is joy, pleasure. — Sk.
* here, fremere, fremitus, rearing,
raging noise. Lye. — P.
5 burly, great of stature or size, bulky,
corpulent. Johns. — P.
6 joggled, wagged, shook. — Sk.
7 most fright-causing. — F.
9 quaintfnl, quaint, neat, exact, nice,
having a petty elegance. X.ih Qi'aint
is in Spencer quailed, depressed. John-
son. — P.
9 Sc. Pride, compare this with Line
183.— P.
10 freke, homo, a hunr.n creature.
Lye.-P.
DEATH AND LIFFE.
G3
both of bide & bew ' & bcarc l alsoe.
sbee was naked as my nayle ' botb aboue & belowe,
160 sbee was lapped about ' in Linenn breecbcs.
a more fearffull face " no freake migbt behold ;
for sbee was long, & leane â– & lodlye 2 to see ;
there was noe man on the mold " soe mightye of
strengbt,
164 but a looke of that Lady " & his lilfe passed.
his 3 eyes farden 4 as the fyer â– that in the furnace
burnes ;
they were hollow in her head â– with, full beauye
browes;
her cheekes were leane ' with lipps full side, 5
168 with a maruelous mouth • full of long tushes,
& the nebb 6 of her nose * to her navell hanged,
& her lere 7 like tlr% lead • that latelye was beaten,
sbee bare in her right hand â– & 8 vnrid 9 weapon,
172 a bright burnisbt blade ' all bloody beronen, 10
& in the left hand " like the legg of a grype, 11
with the talents that were touchinge ' & teenfull 12
enoughe.
w/'th that sbee burnisbt vp her brand ' & bradd 13 out
her geere ;
17G & I for feare of that freake ' ffell in a swond.
had not Sir Comfort come ' & my care stinted,
I had bcenc slainc with that sight â– of that sorrowfull
bin lye.
and naked.
I Tor face
was fearful
to see.
Death was
in her look.
Her eyes
flamed like
fire.
Her nose
hung down
to her
navel.
In her right
hand was a
bloody
sword,
in her left
a vulture's
talons.
I swooned,
but Sir
Comfort
1 hair. P.
- Lodly or ledlye, [si. leidur. Tin-pis
sordidus, A.1. leid, abominabilis. M' Lye
MS. P. Loathly, Cf. 1. 303.— Sk.
a Her. -P.
4 i.e. fared, passed, went, were— p.
5 side, longus, prolixus. Lye. — P.
8 nebbe, rostrum, AS. vultus, item
is. Jun. — P.
; Lere, l.\ re, < !aro. Lye. Item, com-
ion, G loss, ad G. D, P.
s an, V.
1 unricl, perhaps the same as tint
in G. Doug! ; rude, hideous, horrible.
Gloss, ad G. P.— P. The root seems to
be the A.-S. r&SeoT kri%e, cruel, tin-re.
The prefix may be the A.-S. an- or on-.
— Sk.
10 Forti beronen or berunen, vid. p.
3G7, St. is [of MS.]. P. be-jun, run
over witli.— Sk.
" i.e. Griffin.— P.
'- teen, est injuria, vexatho. Jun. Sor-
row, grief. Johnson. — P.
1:1 braid, brade, vet. expergrfaccre, au-
ft rre, ednc re. Lye. —P.
64
DEATH AND LIFFE.
reassured
me,
told me she
was Death,
with Pride,
her suite,
Envy,
Wrath,
Mischief,
Sorrow,
and all who
loathed
their life.
She stept
on the
grass,
and the
trees
trembled,
the leaves
dropt.
the fish
were still.
She hied to
the happy
crowd.
and slew
kings,
princes,
dukes,
180
184
188
192
196
200
204
then he lowtecl to me low â– & learned rne well,
sayd, " be thon not abashed â– but abyde there a while ;
here may thou sitt & see " selcothes l ffull manye.
yonder damsell is death " that dresseth her to smyte.
loe, pryde passeth before ' & the price beareth,
many sorrowffull souldiers ' following her fast after :
both enuye & anger ' in their yerne 2 weeds,
morninge & mone ' Sir Mis[c]heefe his ffere, 3
Sorrow & sicknesse ' & sikinge in hart ;
all ///at were lothinge of their liffe * were lent 4 to her
court,
when shee draweth vp her darts ' & dresseth her to
smite,
there is no groome vnder god ' may garr her to stint,
then I blushed 6 to that bearne â– & balefullye looked :
he 6 stepped forth barefooted â– on the bents browne,
the greene grasse in her gate
shee grindeth all to
powder, 7
trees tremble for ffeare ' & tipen 8 to the ground,
leaues lighten downe lowe ' & leauen their might,
fowles faylen to fflce " when 9 the heard wapen,
& the flashes in the fflood â– ff'aylen to swimme 10
fibr dread of dame death â– that dolefully e threates.
with that shee hyeth to the hill â– & the heai'd ffindeth :
in the roughest of the rout ' shee reacheth forth darts,
there shee fell att the first fflappe â– 1500
of comelyes Queenes with crowne * & K.i/nga full noble,
proud princes in the presse ' prestlye n slice quellethe ;
of dukes that were doughtyc • shee dang out the
braynes ;
' i.e. rarities, vid. L. 96. — P.
2 yerne, promptus, cupidus. L. — P.
3 fere, socvus, vet. ang. L. — P.
* led.— P. Qu. MS. letit, or a t crossed
through for the first stroke of an n. — F.
lent is short for loujid; thus were lent =
abode, dwelt. Sec lent iu Halliwell,
- Sk,
5 vide Lin. 389.— P.
6 she.— P.
7 Compare this passage with the beau-
tiful bit about Life, lines 69-75. — F.
8 tip, leviter tangere. L. — P.
9 wan. Query. — P.
10 MS. swimne. — F.
11 prest, paratus, statim. Lye. — P.
DEATH AND LIFFE.
()0
merry maydens on the mold ' shee mightilye killetke ;
there might no weapon them warrant " nor no walled
towne.
yonnge children in their craddle " they dolefullye dyen ;
208 shee spareth fl'or no specyaltye â– but spilleth the
gainest l ;
the more woe shee workcth â– more mighty e shee
seemeth.
when my Lady dame liffe â– looked on her deeds,
& saw how dolefullye " shee dunge 2 downe her people,
212 slice cast vp a crye â– to the hye Kmg of heauen ;
& he hearkneth itt hendlye ' in his hye throne,
hee called on countenance " & hade his course take,
" ryde thou to the reschew ' of yonder wrought 3
Ladye.
216 hee was bowne 4 att his bidd ' & bradd 5 on his way.
t/nit wight, 6 as the wind ' that wappeth" in the skye,
he ran out of the rainebow 8 ' through the ragged
clowds,
& light on the Land â– where the Lords [lay] slaine.
220 & vnto dolefull death â– he dresses him to speake ;
sayth : "thou wrathefull Queene ' that euer woe worketh,
cease of thy sorrow " thy soueraigine com?»andeth,
& let thy burnished blade " on the bent rest,
224 that my Lady dame liffe ' her likinge may haue."
then death glowed & gran ' for gryme 9 of her talke, 10
merry
maids,
and babies
too.
Life then
cried to
God,
and He sent
Countenance
to her rescue.
Countenance
rushes down
like the
wind,
and bids
Death
cease her
slaughter,
that Life
might have
her way.
Loath '
1 gain,t] • wngain, (aukward,
clumsy) i.e. clever: bandy, ready, dex-
trous. Johnson. — P. '-' dang. — P.
3 wrought, Scot, wraik, to vex; Sax.
â– i, exulare ; wreccan persequi, ulcisci ;
wrecca, miser, exul. Wrought perhaps is
the sain, with the Scotch wrachit, i.e.
wretched. — P.
4 bown, paratus. L. — P.
5 vid. 176 rer. P.
8 wight, swift) nimble. Johnson. P.
' wappeth, A.s. wappian, Fluctuare,
[wapean, triijlmi, tn \\aver, MosworthJ,
i> waxeth, see Saxon, written so
in folio 106 "Saxon Harold," also ver.
248 of this song. — P. See Waft in "Wedg-
wood. Wappe is used in Maleore s
Arthur of the lapping of the waves in
tlie liil about Arthur's death, and Sir
Bedevere. — Sk.
H The W is made over a y in the M.S.
V.
9 Query foregrim, i.e. very grim: furc
in composition sometimes strengthens
the meaning, e.g. fore done, fore shame,
fore slow. See Johnson on these, gryme
is foulness, dirtiness, impurity. — P. A.-S.
grim, fury, rage; grymetan, to rage. — F.
10 looked fiercely and grinned for rage
at Countenance's talk. — P.
VOL. in.
66
DEATH AND LIFFE.
earthed her
sword.
Life kisses
Counten-
ance,
and then
rebukes
Death:
" Devil's
daughter,
[page 388]
why kill'st
thou man,
and grass,
and trees,
God's handi-
work ?
He blest
them,
bade them
increase and
multiply,
but shee did as shee dained l ' durst sliee noe other ;
shee pight the poynt of her sword ' in the plaine earth,
228 & with a looke full layetk 2 â– shee looked on the hills,
then my Lady dame Liffe ' shee looketk full gay,
kyreth 3 to countenance * & him comelye thankes,
kissed kindlye that ~K.night â– then carped 4 shee no
more,
232 but vnto dolefull death • shee dresseth her to speake,
sayth : " thou woefull wretch ' weaknesse of care,
bold birth 5 full of bale ' bringer of sorrowe,
dame daughter of the devill ' death is thy name ;
236 but if thy fare be thy 6 fairer ' the feend haue thy soule.
couldest thou any cause fund " thou Kaitiffe wretch,
That neither reason nor wright 7 • may raigne w/th
thy name ?
why kills thou the body â– that neuer care rought 8 ?
240 the grasse nor the greene trees ' greeued thee neuer,
but come fibrth in their kinds ' christyans to helpe,
with all beawtye & blisse ' that barne 9 might devise,
but of my meanye thou marreth ' marveild I haue
244 how thou dare doe them to death • eche day soe manye,
& the handy worke of him â– that heaueu weldeth !
how keepeth thou his comandements ' thou kaytiffe
retch !
wheras banely 10 hee them blessed " & biddeth them
thriue.
248 waxe fforth in the Avord ' & worth u vnto manye,
1 ordained, bade. — Sk. The context
wants the meaning — " was told to." — F.
- kith, loath, A.S. la* ; O. E. laid ; in-
visus, molestus, odiosus, fastidiuni creans.
Jun.— P.
3 Kereth, ver. 118, qnem vide. — P.
A.S. eyrrun, to turn. — F.
' to carp, to talk. Scottish. Lin. 361,
Gloss, to Etamsays Evergreen. Here it
seems used forcomplained. Carpit, .spoke,
talked, complained. Gloss, to G. Doug 8 .
—P.
5 Birth, hulk. . . burthen. Gloss, ad
G. Doug.— P. 6 the.— Sk.
' right. — P. 8 wrought. — Sk.
MS. harme. The alliteration re-
quires h ; and h is continually miswritten
for h. It should be barne = bearne (1. 265).
— Sk.
10 hand)/, perhaps readily, from bane,
p. 363, St. 28.— P. Bane, kind, courteous,
friendly. Northern. This is Kennett's
explanation of the word in MS. Langd,
1033. JIalliwell. — F.
11 worth, esse, fieri, A.S. worthan. Lye.
—P.
DEATH AND L1FFE.
67
& thou lett them of their leake 1 ' w/th thy lidder 2
turnes !
but w/th wondering 3 & with woe " thou waiteth them
full yorne, 4
& as a theefe in a rout â– thou throngeth them 5 to death,
252 that neither nature, nor I ' ffor none of thy deeds
may bring vp our bearnes â– their bale thee betyde !
but if thou 6 blinn 7 of that bine ' thou buy must full
deere ;
they may wary 8 the weeke " that euer thou wast
fformed."
256 then death dolefullye â– drew vp her browes,
armed her to answer â– & vpright shee standeth,
& sayd : " o, louelye liff'e * cease thou such wordes !
thou payneth thee with pratinge ' to pray me to cease.
260 itt is reason & right ' that I may rent take
thus to kill of the kind ' both 'Kings & dukes,
Loyall Ladds & liuelye " of ilke sort some ;
all shall drye 9 with the dints " that I deale with my
hands.
264 I wold haue kept the cormnandement ' of the hye Kmg
of heauen,
but the bearne itt brake ' that thou bred vp ffirst
when Adam & Eue l0 ' of the earth were shapen,
& were put into Paradice ' to play w/th their selues,
268 & were brought into blisse ' bidd if the u wold.
he warned 12 them nothing in the world â– but a wretched
branche
and tliou
puttest
them to
death.
Stop, or
you'll suffer
for it 1"
Death
answers
" It is right
that I
should kill
some,
for the
first man
broke God's
commands
in Paradise,
1 Irak, vid. lin. 301.— P. A.-S. lac,
play, sport. — F.
2 lidder, slow, sluggish, lazy. Gloss.
ad G. D. ; or perhaps as the Sax. ItSer,
i.e. mains, Bordidus, servilis. — P. A.-S.
li/&rc, lyier, bud, wicked. Bosworth. —
P.
8 Only half of the last n is in the MS.
— F.
* greedy, vid. L. 18.5. — P. eagerly.
A.-S. georne.- F. waiteth is used for
waitest; this agrees with tholcd for
thok <dst in 1. 1.— Sk. 5 MS. then.— F.
i.e. unless thou. — P.
7 blinn, vet. A. cessare, desinere, dcsis-
tere. Lye.— P. ? bine.— F.
8 wary, Chauc. est detestari, execrari,
vid. Junius. — P.
9 ilrie, dricn, tolerare, pati. Sax. drco-
yin. Lye. dre, to suffer, endure. Gloss,
ad G. I), dye, qu.— P.
10 There is a tag at the end like an r
in tho MS.— F.
" bide if they.— P. I2 forbade.— Sk.
F 2
68
DEATH AISD LIFFE.
when Eve
plucked the
apple.
Then I,
Death, gript
my sword,
and hit
Adam and
Eve and
their off-
spring.
Leave me,
Life I I hate
thee and thy
servants,
and have no
pleasure in
their mirth.
My gladdest
game is to
hew at thy
joys."
of the ffayutyest ffruit â– that euer in ffrith grew;
yett his bidding they brake ' as the booke recordeth.
272 when Eue ffell to the ffruite ' wc'th fnngars white,
& plucked them of the plant â– & poysoned them both,
I was fFaine of that ffray â– my ffawchyon I gryped,
& delt Adam such a dint ' that hee dolue euer after.
276 Eue & her ofspring â– I hitt them, I hope,
for all the musters l that they made " I mett wt'th them
once.
therfore, liffe, thou me leaue ' I loue thee but a litle ;
I hate thee & thy houshold - & thy hyndes 2 all !
280 mee gladdeth not of their glee " nor of their gay lookes;
att thy dallyance & thy disport ' noe dayntye 3 I haue ;
thy ffayre liffe & thy ffairenesse ' ffeareth 4 me but litle ;
thy blisse is my bale " breuelye 5 of others,
284 there is no game vnder heauen â– soe gladlye I wishe
as to haue a slapp wt'th my ffawchyon â– att thy fayre
state."
[The Second Part.]
Life rejoins :
"Thy sword
shall never
bite me ;
but when
men
are joyful
with wife
and child,
r Then liffe on the land â– Ladylike shee speakes,
sayth : " these words thou hast wasted ' wayte 6
thou no other ;
2 ffitt <( shall thy bitter brand neuer " on my body byte.
I am grounded in god â– & grow for euermore ;
but to these men of the mold â– marvell me thinketh
in whatt hole of thy hart " thou thy wrath keepeth :
202 where ioy & gentlenesse â– are ioyned 7 together
betweene bis wight 8 & his wiffe â– & his winne 9 children.
1 musters
— F
Qu. — P. devices, tricks.
- servants. — F.
:i daintye, &e. I have no scruple, cere*
Sec Johnson, Ad Verb
3 d . sense.
mony. See Johnson, Ad \
— P. daintye, delight.— F.
* fear — frighten. So in Shakespeare:
' Warwick was a bug, that feared us
all.'— S.
5 bremely, Vid. p. 246, St. 19, vid. p.
388, lin. 360.— P. ? briefly.— F.
G Q,u. vato, Scot. i.e. wott. — P.
7 The i has an accent on it as if for c.
— F. 8 a wight. — P. " pleasant. — F.
DEATH AND LIFFE.
69
& when ffaith & ffellowshipp • are ffastened ffor aye,
loue & charitye â– which, our lord likethe,
296 then thou waletb. l them with wracke • & wratkeffully
beginneth ;
vncurteouslyo thou cometh " vnknowne of them all,
& lacheth 2 away the land â– that the hord holdeth,
or woryes his wiffe ' or waits 3 downe his children.
300 mikle woe thus thou waketh â– where mirth was before,
this is a deed of the devill • death, thou vsest ;
but if thou leaue not thy lake 4 " & learne thee a better,
thou wilt lach 5 att the last â– a lothelich 6 name."
304 " doe away, damsell," quoth death â– " I dread thee
nought !
of my losse 7 that I losse 8 â– lay thou noe thought ;
thou prouet mee full prestlye ' of many proper thinge ;
I haue not all kinds soe ill â– as thou me vpbraydest ;
308 where I wend on my way â– the world will depart,
bearnes wold be ouer bold " bales ffor to want,
the 7 sinnes for to serue * & sett them full euer,
& giue no glory ynto god â– that sendeth vs all grace.
312 if the dint of my dart ' deared 9 them neuer,
to lett them worke all their will ' itt were litle Ioy.
shold I for their fayrnesse ' their ffoolishnes allowe,
my liffe (giue thou me leaue) ' noe Leed 10 vpon earth
316 but I shall master his might • mauger his cheekes
as a Conquerour keene ' biggest of other,
to deale dolefull dints ' & doe as my list;
for I fayled neuer in fight â– hut I the ffeild wan
thou
destroyed t
their lands
or loved
ones :
a deed of the
devil."
Death
answers :
"I am not so
guilty as
you, Life,
would make
me.
Prevent
men from
sinning,
and subdue
them all.
Never have
I failed
in tib'ht.
1 to wale, eligere, forte hie transitive
pro 'to make to wail.' — P. waleth =
afflictest. A.-S. tva/an, to afflict, rex.
- 8k.
- lach, latche. To bake, catch, Bnatch.
A.-S. Iteccan, c prehendere, rapere.
I'rry iii Chauc! — P.
* A.-S. westtan, to roll, tumble. F.
4 lake, Ludere. Lye. — I'.
â– A..-S. lesccan, gelacean, to take, catch,
seize. (See note 2 .) — F.
6 i.e. loathsome. — P.
' praise, fame. — F.
8 lose.— P.
9 Dere, Chauc est leedere, nocere. Lye.
—P.
10 Leed, leid, a Person (Scottish),
Gloss, to Ramsay's Evergreen, hid, a
man, from teod, Sax. Homo. Gloss, ad
(i. I). —P.
70
DEATH AND LIFFE.
I killed
Adam,
Methuselah,
Joseph,
Abraham,
Saul,
Jonathan,
David,
Solomon,
Alexander,
Arthur,
Hector,
Lancelot,
Gallaway,
and all the
knights of
the Round
Table.
I jousted
with Jesus,
320 si tli the ffirst ffroake â– that formed was euer,
& will not leaue till the last bee â– on the beere layd.
but sitt sadlye, 1 thy liffe 2 " & 3 soothe thou shalt know.
If euer any man vpon mold " any mirth had,
324 that leaped away with thee, liffe " & laughed me to
scorne,
but I dang them with my dints â– vnto the derffe 4
earthe.
both Adam & Eue • & Abell, I killed ;
Moyses & Methasula * & the meeke Aronn [page 3S9]
328 Iosua & Ioseph * & Iacob the smoothe,
Abraham & Isace * & Esau the roughe ;
Samuell, 5 for all his ffingers ' I slew with my hands,
& Ionathan, his gentle sonne * in Gilboa hills ;
332 david dyed on the dints ' that I delt oft,
soe did Salomon his sonne â– that was sage holden,
& Alexander alsoe " to whom all the world lowted ;
in the middest of his mirth ' I made him to bow ;
336 the hye honor that he had â– helped him but litle ;
when I swang him on the swire 6 " to swelt 7 him
behoued.
Arthur of England â– & Hector the keene,
both Lancelott & leonades â– with other leeds manye,
340 & Gallaway the good Kmght " & Gawaine the hynde, 8
& all the rowte I rent â– ffrom the round table :
was none soe hardye nor soe hye " soe holy nor soe
wicked,
but I burst them with my brand ' & brought them
assunder.
344 how shold any wight weene ' to winn me on ground ?
haue not I lusted gentlye * with Iesu of heauen ?
1 seriously, composed, still. — P.
2 Thou Life.— P.
3 the.— P.
4 See pag. 116, St. 39.— P. fierce,
cruel. — F.
3 Saul. lege.—?.
6 swire, swira, swir-ban, collum, cervix.
—P.
7 Swelt, S. sweltan, obixe, languescere.
Swelt, to be choaked, suffocated, die.
Gloss, ad G. D.— P.
8 heude, as in 1. 107.- Sk.
DEATH AND LIFFE. 71
he was frayd of my mice * in ffreshest of time.
yett I knocked him on the crosse ' & carued l throughe and pierced
his heart."
his hart."
348 & with that shee cast of her crowne ' & kneeled downe At Christ's
. name all
lOWe kneel.
when shee minned 2 the name ' of that noble prince ;
soe did liffe vpon land ' & her leeds all
both of heauen and of earth â– & of hell ffeends,
352 all tbey lowted downe lowe ' their Jjord to honor.
then liffe kneeled on her knees ' with her crowne in Life
her hand,
& looketh vp a long while ' towards the hye heauen ;
shee riseth vpp rudlye 3 ' & dresseth her to speake,
356 shee calleth to ber companye ' & biddeth them 4 come then can*
her company
neere, to her,
both ~K.ings and Queenes " & comelye dukes:
" woi'ke wiselye by jour witts ' my words to heare
that I speake ffor jour speed " & spare itt noe longer." 5
360 then shee tumeth to them ' & talketh these words, ? ( n J* sa y s 'â–
" Death, thy
shee sayth 6 : " dame death, of thy deeds ' now is thy witl f\- e
doome shapen T^iL.
through thy wittles words ' that thou hast carped,
w7n'ch thou makest with thy mouth â– & mightylye
avowes. 7
364 tbou hast blowen thy blast ' breemlye 8 abroade J h01 J hasfc
J J boasted
how hast thou wasted this world ' sith wights were ^dersof
first,
euer murthercd & marde ' thou makes thy avant. 9
of one point lett vs proue ' or 10 wee part in sunder :
1 carve, secare, incidere, sculpcre. Jun. 5 The next two pages are borrowed
See also Johnson : Sense 6 , . h — P. from P. PI. Passus xviii. — Sk.
- mil/, i, mini/, to mention. Vid. Iun. 6 On these introductory words, see Mr.
Lye. — P. The alliteration and sense Skeat's Kssay on Allit. Metre. — F.
both show it should be nemned. nem is 7 avewest. — P.
iniswrittcn miii. — Sk. * forte breemlye, breme, est atro.r,
3 rude, is stiff, strong. It. forcible, ferox ; A. -Sax. hreman, f rem ere. Lye.
vehement, apwd G. Douglas.— P. ? for 'vid. p. 216, St. 19, 388, 1. 283.— P. MS.
radlye, A.-Sax. radlice, quickly, speedily. breenlye or breitlye. — F.
— F. 1 thenn MS.— F. ° boast.— Sk. ' '» ere.— Sk,
I J,
PKATTf AM) LIFFE.
of jousting
with Jesus.
But he
conqui rc-.l
then.
Thou didst
beat and
buffet him,
and wound
him on the
cross
with a spear.
But the
glory of his
( iu.liicad
drove thee
into Hell,
where thou
toldest
368 how didest thou lust att Ierusalem ' with Iesumy lord,
where thou deemed his deat[h] " in one dayes time ?
there was thou shamed, & shent 1 ' & stripped ffbr aye !
when thou saw the Kmg come ' w/th the crosse on his
shoulder ;
372 on the top of Caluarye ' thou earnest him against ;
like a traytour vntrew ' treason thou thought ;
thou layd vpon my leege lord ' lotheliche hands,
sithen beate him on his body â– & buffetted him rightlye,
376 till the railinge 2 red blood " ran from his s[i]des,
sith rent him on the rood " w/th ffull red wounds.
to all the woes that him wasted â– I wott not ffew,
tho deemedst to haue 3 beene dead â– & dressed for
euer.
380 but, death, how didst thou then ' w/th all thy derffe 4
words,
when thou prickedst att his pappe ' w/th the poynt of
a speare,
& touched the tabernackle ' of his trew hart
where my bower was bigged 5 â– to abyde for euer?
384 when the glory of his godhead â– glented 6 in thy face,
then was thou feard of this fare ' in thy false hart ;
then thou hyed into hell hole ' to hyde thee beliue ;
thy fawchon flew out of thy fist ' soe fast thou thee
hyed;
388 thou durst not blushe 7 once backe â– for better.or worsse
but drew thee downe ffull â– in that deepe hell,
& bade them barre bigglye 8 • Belzebub his gates,
then the told 9 them tydands â– that teened them sore,
1 shend, akent, confundere dedecorare.
Lye. P.
2 railing, rails, apnd G. Dougl is,
springe, gushes forth, runs, iEn. xi. 724,
( 'rix.r \ l 'visa labuntur aibatht re plumes,
which is thus rendered "al the blu.de ha-
boundantly ftirtli ralis" and — the "licht
downis up to the skyis glydis." rayled
is ased by Chaucer in this Sense. — P.
' J liim lo have. P,
* Vid. P. 116 [of MS.]— P.
5 big, Scotis est condeiv, sedificare.
Lye.— P.
6 to glent, to glance. Urry. In Chauc^
" Her eyin glent aside." Tr. & Cres. —
P.
' so we say "at first blush." See
Johnson. — P.
8 biggly, i.e. mightily. — P.
9 thou 't oldest. -P.
DKATTI AND I.IFFE.
/.}
392 how that King came ' to kithen ' his strenght,
& how shee had beaten thee on thy bent " & thy brand
taken,
with euerlasting lifie " that longed 2 him till.
then the sorrow was ffull sore â– att Sathans hart ;
396 hee threw ffeends in the ffycr ' many Sell thousands ;
&, death, thou dange itt on â– whilest thou dree 3 might ;
for ffalte of thy ffawchyon " thou fought with, thy hand.
host this neuer of thy red deeds â– thou ravished bitche !
400 thou may shrinke for shame ' when the sooth heares.
then I leapt to my lord â– that caught me vpp soone,
& all wounded as hee was â– with, weapon in hand
he fastened foote vpon earth â– & ffollowed thee fifast
404 till he came to the caue â– that cursed was holden.
he abode before Barathron â– that bearne, while he
liked,
that was euer merke as midnight " with mour[n]inge
& sorrowe ;
he cast a light on the Land • as beames on 4 the sunn.
403 then cryed that King • with a cleere steuen, 5
" pull open jour ports ' you princes within !
here shall come in the King ' crowned with ioy,
which is the hyest burne 6 ' in battell to smite."
412 there was ffleringe 7 of ffeends • throughe the fyer
gaynest, 7
hundreds hurled on heapes â– in holes about ;
the broad gates, all of brasse " brake all in sunder,
& the Kmg with his crosse " came in before.
4lf. he leapt vnto Lucifer â– that Lord himselfe,
then he went to the tower ' where chaynes were manye,
how Christ's
everlasting
Life had
beaten thee.
Eoast not,
then, beaten
bitch !
For Christ
followed
thee to Hell,
and bade its
princes open
its gates
and receive
their King.
The gates
burst
asunder.
Christ bound
Lucifer,
1 Kytlio, to appear, Item, to make
appear, to show, ab A.S. cySan, nan-arc,
osb adere, cyie notitia, cy%ere martyr,
testis. Gloss, ad G-. Doug. — P.
- belonged. Sk.
3 dree, Qu. P. rfree=endure, hold
out. A. -Sax. dreogan. This is from
Goth. <lriiigmi = serve a^ a soldier, fight,
the very sense here, viz. to hold out in
fighting. — Sk.
1 of. — P. Should he lemes of. bcame
is a stupid alteration for leme, and de-
stroys the chief-letter. Sk.
1 voice, sound. Lye. — P.
Qu. barne. —P.
7 ? flcinge. gaynest = quickest. — Sk.
74
DEATH AND LIFFE.
& bound liini soc biglye " that hee for bale rored.
death, tliou daredst l that day " & durst not be seene
420 fibr all the glitering gold " vnder god himseluen.
Then to the tower hee went * where chanes are many ;
hee tooke Adam & Eue â– out of the old world,
Abraham & Isacc • & all that hee wold,
424 david, & danyell ' & many deare bearnes
that were put into prison â– & pained ffull long.
he betooke me the treasure * that neuer shall haue end,
that neuer danger of death ' shold me deere after.
428 then wee wenten fforth â– winlye 2 together,
& Left the dungeon of devills " & thee, death, in the
middest.
& now thou prickes ffor pride â– praising thy seluen !
therfore bee not abashed â– my barnes soe deere,
432 of her ffauchyon soe ffeirce ' nor of her ffell words,
shee hath noe might, nay no meane ' no more you to
greeue,
nor on jour comelye corsses ' to clapp once her hands.
I shall looke you ffull liuelye ' & latche ffull well,
436 & keere 3 yee ffurther of this kithe 4 â– aboue the cleare
skyes.
If yee [loue] well 5 the Ladye " that light in 6 the mayden,
& be christened with creame 7 * & in jouy creede
beleeue,
haue no doubt 8 of yonder death â– my deare children ;
and fear not 440 for yonder [death] is damned ' with devills to dwell,
where is wondering, & woe ' & wayling ffor sorrow,
death was damned that day " Daring ffull still,
shee hath no might, nay no maine 9 ' to meddle with
yonder ost,
[page 390]
rescued
Adam and
Eve,
Abraham,
Daniel, and
many more.
He freed me
from death,
and we went
forth
together,
leaving thee,
Death, in the
dungeon of
devils.
My children,
fear not then
Death's
sword.
I shall lead
you up to
Heaven.
Love Mary,
be chris-
tened,
she cannot
meddle with
everlasting
Life."
1 deredst. — P. This daring, 1. 442, is
Chaucer's dare, said of a hare that lies
and dares. See Morris, Specimens, p. 436,
note to Werwolf, 1. 15. — Skeat.
- A.-S. wynlice, joyously. — F.
3 turn?— Sk.
4 A.-S. cifi, a region ; cy%%e, a home,
Dative country. — F.
'•" ye serve well, or love. Qu. — P.
6 hight is. Qu— P.
7 chreame, Gr. XP'CA" 1 - gallice ehresme,
oleum sacratum quo in Baplâ„¢ utebantur.
Lye.— P.
8 fear.— Sk.
9 maine, S. mepyi, rohur, vis. Nescio
an Might respiciat animi, Main, vim
corporis. Lye. — P.
DEATH AND LIFFE.
75
444 against euerlasting liffe ' that Ladye soe true."
then my Lady dame liffe ' with Lookes soe gay,
that was comelye cladd â– with christall x and Mantle,
all the dead on the ground â– doughtilye 2 shee rayseth
448 fairer by 2 ffold â– then they before were.
with that sheehyeth ouer the hills â– with hundreds ffull
manye. 3
I -wold haue ffollowed on that faire 4 â– but no further I
might ;
what with wandering 5 & with woe â– I waked beliue.
452 thus fared I throw a ffrith â– in a ffresh time,
where I sayd a sleepe ' in a slade greene ;
there dreamed I the dreame * vrhick dread all be-
frighted.
but hee that rent all was 6 on the rood ' riche 7 itt him-
seluen,
456 & bring ts to his blisse ' with blessings enowe !
therto Iesu of Ierusalem ' grant vs thy grace,
& saue there our howse â– holy for euer ! Amen !
ffillS.
Then Life
raised the
dead,
and hied
away with
hundreds.
I tried to
follow,
but awoke.
Such was
my dream.
May Christ
fulfil it,
and bring us
to His bliss!
1 kyrtle Query, petticoat. Lat. En-
combomata. Jun. — P. A word like
plicor follows in the MS., but is not
in Junius. — F.
2 dcughty, strenuus, impavidus, ani-
■mosus. Jun. — P.
8 Only half the n in the MS.— F.
4 fair thing, Scil* —P.
6 Only one stroke for the second n in
the MS.— F.
6 was cdl rent, Qu. — P. all is de trop.
— Sk.
' ? rule, control. A.-S. ricsian. Or
riche = rithe, rihte, set right.- -Sk.
76
Sfoam : 33dl : CItme of tfte Clause] 8c
OTi'Utam : off Cloufctsrtee x 1
The version here given of this well-known ballad differs very
slightly from that printed by Copland circ. 1550, reprinted (with
some alterations from the Folio) in the Reliques, and again by
Ritson in his Pieces of Popular Poetry.
The ballad is no doubt far older than the oldest copy extant.
Dunbar (who died circ. 1530) makes mention of one of its three
famous heroes. A fragment of an edition older than that pub-
lished by Copland has been recovered by Mr. Payne Collier.
It's merry to
hunt in the
green forest.
[The First Part.]
[How ' Cloudeslee is tane and damned to death.']
MERRYE : itt was in the greene fforrest
amonge the leaues greene,
wheras men hunt East & west
4 with bowes & arrowes keene,
And I'll tell
you of 3
northern
yeomen,
to raise the deere out of their den ;
such sights has oft beene seene,
as by 3 yeomen of the north countrye,
8 by them itt is I meane.
Adam Bell,
Clym of the
Cloughe,
and William
Clovvdcslee,
the one of them hight Adam Bell,
another Clymm of the Cloughe,
the 3? was yvilliam of Clowdeslee,
12 an archer good enoughe.
1 In 3 Parts. N.B. This is in print in Old Black Letter. Some corrections may
be had from this. — P.
ADAM liELL, ETC.
77
16
they were outlawed for venison,
these yeomen eueryeche one ;
they swore then 1 brethren on a clay
to English wood for to gone.
now lithe 2 & listen, gentlemen
that of mirth loueth to heare !
2 of them were single men,
20 the o a . had a weded ffere. 3
outlawed for
taking
will/am was the weded man ;
4 much more then was his care,
hee sayd to his brethren vpon a day,
24 to Carleile hee wold fare,
William is
married,
and says
he 11 go to
Carlisle
there to speake wt'th faire Allice his wiffe
and his children three.
" by my truth," said Adam Bell,
28 " not by the councell of mee ;
to see his
wife and
children.
Adam
warns him
" for if wee 5 goe to Carlile, Brother,
& from this wylde wood wende,
If that the Iustice doe you take,
32 yowr liffe is att an end."
" If that I come not to Morrow, brother,
by prime 6 to you againe,
trust you then that I am tane
36 or else that I am slaine."
that he'll
be taken.
hee tookc his leaue of his brethren 2,
& to Carlile hee is gone ;
there he knocked att his owne windowe
40 shortly e and anon.
William
goes to his
home,
knocks for
1 them. Beliques (collated only now
and then). — F.
2 lithe, attend, hearken, listen. Lye.
—P.
3 fere, companion. Iun. — P.
4 One stroke too many in the MS.— F.
â– s ye. -IM.
6 MS. priiie F.
78
his wife,
ami tells her
to let him in.
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
"where be you, ffayre Allice ? " he sayd,
" my wiffe, and children three ?
lightlye lett in thy owne husband,
44 William of Clowdeslee."
She says
the place
is watched.
" alas ! " then sayd ffaire Allice,
and sighed verry sore,
" This place hath beene beset for you
48 this halfe a yeere & more."
[page 391]
" Let me in,
and give me
food."
" now am I heere," said Clowdeslee,
" I wold that in I were ;
now ffeitch vis 1 meate & drinke enoughe,
52 & lett vs make good cheere."
she does so. shee ffeitcht him meate & drinke plentye,
like a true weded wiffe ;
& pleased him with that shee had,
56 whom shee loued as her liffe.
An old
woman
kept 7 years
by William's
charity
there lay an old wiffe in the place,
a litle before 2 the ffyer,
â– which wilh'am had found of charytye
60 more then seauen yeere.
goes to
the Justice,
and tells him
Clowdeslee
is at home.
vp shee rose, & forth shee goes, —
Euill mote shee speede therfore ! — â–
for shee had sett 3 no ffoote on ground
64 not 7 yeere before.
shee went into the Iustice hall
as ffast as shee cold hye :
" this night," shee sayd, " is come to towne
68 William of Clowdeslee."
1 ? MS. for vus, or vs, us. — F.
* besyde. — Bel.
3 One stroke too many in the MS. — F.
76
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
therof the Iustice was full faine, 1
soe was the Sherriffe alsoe ;
" thou shalt not trauell hither, dame, for nought ;
M thy meede thou shalt haue ere thou goe."
they gaue to her a right good gowne, —
of Scarlett itt was, as I heard saine, 2 —
shee tooke the gift, & home shee went,
& couched her downe againe.
79
He is glad,
and gives her
a scarlet
gown.
they raysed the towne of Merry Carlilc
in all they hast they can,
& came thronging to wtlKams house
80 as fast as they might gone ;
Then he
raises
the town,
there they besett the good yeaman
about on euerye syde.
william heard great noyse of the flfolkes
84 that thitherward fast hyed.
and
surrounds
William's
house.
Alice opened a backe windowe,
& looked all about :
shoe was ware of the Iustice & Sherr[i]ffe both,
& with them 3 a ffull great rout.
William's
wife Alice
sees them,
" A llice, 4 treason ! " then cryed Allice,
" Euer woe may thou bee !
goe into my chamber, sweet husband," shee sayd,
92 " Sweete William of Clowdeslee."
he tooke his sword & his buckeler,
his bow, & his children 3 ;
he went into the strongest chamber,
96
where he thought the surest to bee.
and sends
William into
her room.
1 glad.— P.
2 Of scarlate, and ofgraine, — Eel.
3 One stroke too many in the MS. — F.
1 Alas.— Bel.
80
ADAM UELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
She seizes
a poleaxe.
William
shouts the
Justice on
the breast,
but it is
armoured.
The Justice
calls on him
to yield,
and orders
the house
to be fired.
His men fire
it.
William lets
his wife and
children out
of a window,
and prays
t lie Justice
to spare
them.
ffayre Allice, like a louer true,
tooke a Pollaxe in her hand ;
said, "liee shall dye that cometh in
100 this dore, while I may stand."
Cloudeslye bent a right good bow
that was of a trustye tree ;
he sniote the Iustice on the brest
104 that his arrowe burst in 3.
" gods curse on his heart," sayd william,
" this day thy cote did on !
if itt had beene no better then mine,
108 itt had beene neere the bone."
" yeelde thee, Cloudeslee," said the Iustice,
" & the bow & arrowes thee froe."
"gods cursse on his hart," sayd faire Allice,
112 " that my husband councell[e]th soe ! "
"sett {Bre on the house," said the shirriffe,
" sith itt will nt»e better bee ;
& burne wee there william," he sayth,
116 " his wiffe & his Children 3."
the ffyred the house in many a place,
the ffyer ffledd on hye ! :
" alas ! " then said ffayre Allice,
120 "I see here wee shall dye."
will/am opened a backe windowe
that was in his chamber hye ;
& there with sheetes he did let downe
124 his wiffe and children 3.
"haue you here my treasure," said William,
" my wiffe & Children 3 ;
for gods loue doe them noe hareme,
128 but wrcake you all on mee ! "
And burnt the old woman and her Scarlett gowne, 1 hope. — F.
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
81
132
"Will/am sliott soe wonderous well
Till his arrowes were all agoe,
& ffire soe ffast about him ffell
that his bow string burnt in towe.
[page 392]
He shoots
on,
the sparkles brent & fell vpon
good william of Clowdcslee ;
but then was hee a wofull man, & sayd
" this is a cowards death to me !
but the fire
gains on
him,
" leever had I," said will/rtm,
" w/th my sword in the rout to runn,
then here amonge my enemyes wood l
140 soe cruellye to burne."
and he
resolves
to cut his
way
through his
foes.
he tooke his sword & his buckeler then,
& amongst them all hee ran :
where the people thickest were,
144 he smote downe many a man ;
there might no man abide his stroakes,
soe ffeircleye on them hee rann.
then the threw windowes & dores att him,
148 & then the tooke that yeoman.
He rushes
out,
and kills
many,
but is taken,
152
there they bound him hand & ffoote,
& in a deepe dungeon 2 him cast.
"now Clowdeslee," sayd the Justice,
" thou shalt be hanged in hast."
and east into
a dungeon.
"one vow shall I make,'' sayd the Shirriffe,
"a paire of new gallowi s shall I fibr thee make ; 3 \[\
& all the gates of Carlile shalbe slmtt ;
156 there shall aoe man come in theratt.
The SherifE
promises
in a
pair of new
gallows.
1 i.e furious. — P.
- < )nc Btroke too few for i n in the MS.
3 A payr of now gallowes, sayd the
sherife,
Now shall I for the make. Eel.
VOL. in.
82
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
" there shall not helpe yett Clym of the Cloughh,
nor yett Adam Bell,
tho they came with a 100*? men,
160 nor all the devills in hell."
Next
morning
Carlisle
gates are
shut,
and the new
gallows set
up.
A little boy
(who is
Clowdeslee's
swineherd)
sees them,
Erlye in the morninge ' the Iustice arose ;
to the gates ffast can hee gone,
& commanded to shutt close
164 lightlye euery-eche one.
then went hee to the markett place
as ffast as hee cold hye ;
there he new a paire of gallowes he sett vpp 2
168 hard by the pillorye.
a litle boy stood them amonge,
& asked what meant that gallow tree,
the said, "to hang a good yeoman
172 called william of Clowdeslee."
176
the litle boy was towne swinarde,
& kept ffaire Allice swine ;
full oft hee had seene will/am in the wood,
& giuen him there to dine.
runs to the
wood,
and tells
Clowdeslee's
mates of his
danger.
he went out att a crevis of the wall ;
lightlye to the wood hee runn ;
there mett hee with these wightye yeomen
180 shortlye & anon :
" alas ! " then said the litle boy,
"you tarry here all too longe ;
Cloudeslee is tane, & damned to death,
184 and readye to be hanged. 3 "
Only half the second n in the MS. —P. A payre of new gallows there he
"* • set up. — 7iV.
2 a new paire of gallowes he set up.
up.
3 hung. — P.
188
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
"Alas," then sayd good Adam Bell,
" that euer wee saw this day !
he had better haue tariyed with vs,
soe oft as wee did him pray.
83
Adam Bell
laments
Clowdeslee's
fate,
"bee might haue dwelt in greene fforrest
vnder the shaddoowes 1 greene,
& kept both him & vs att rest,
1 92 out of all trouble and teene. 2 "
Adam bent a right good bowe ;
a great hart soone bee bad slaine :
" take that, child," bee said, "to thy dinner,
196 & bring me mine arrowe againe."
shoots a hart
for the boy,
" now goe wee hence," said these iollye 3 yeomen,
" tarry wee no longer here ;
wee shall him borrow, by gods grace,
200 tho wee buy itt ffull deere."
to Carlile went these bold 4 yeomen,
all in a mor[n]inge of may.
here is a ffitt of Clowdeslee ;
204 another is flbr to say.
and then
goes with
Cliin to
Carlisle.
1 Bhadowes. — Bel. shadowes skeene. —
Printed Copy, in Bel.
2 i.e. vexation. Jun. — P.
3 wightye.— Bel. * good,— Bel.
a '_'
84
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
They find
Carlisle
gates shut.
[The Second Part.]
[How Clowdeslee is rescued by Adam Bell and Clim of the Cloughe.]
And when they came [to *] merry Carlile
all in a morning tyde,
they found the gates shutt them vnto
round about on euerye syde.
208
2? parte.
212
"Alas," then said good Adam Bell,
" that euer wee were made men !
these gates be shutt soe wonderous ffast
that we may not come therin."
Clim
proposes
" Let's say
we are the
King's
messengers."
then spake Clim of the Cloughe :
" with a wile wee will vs in bringe
Lett vs say wee be messengers
216 straight come ffrom our Kinge."
[page 393]
Adam said, " I haue a Letter well [written 2 ;]
now lett vs wiselye marke 3 ;
wee will say wee haue the Kings seale ;
220 I hold the porter no clarke."
Adam beats
at the
gates,
then Adam Bell beate att the gates
with strokes hard and stronge.
the Porter marueiled who was theratt,
224 & to the gates hee thronge.
and Clim
says they're
the King's
messengers.
" who be there," said the Porter,
" that makes all this knockino-e 4 ? "
"we be 2 messengers," Quoth Clim of the Cloughe,
228 " be come right ffrom our Kinge."
1 to.— P.
2 written. — Bel.
3 werke. — Bel.
4 dinne. — Bel.
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
85
232
"wee haue a letter," said Adam Bell,
" to the Iustice wee must itt bringe ;
let vs in our message to doe,
that wee were againe to the Kinge."
" here cometh none in," said the pointer,
" by him that dyed on a tree,
till that ffalse theefe be hanged,
236 called will/am of Cloudeslee."
The Porter
at first
refuses to
let them in,
then spake good l Clim of the Clough,
& swore by Marye flfree,
" if that wee stand long without,
240 like a theefe hanged thou shalt bee.
" Loe ! here wee haue the "Kings seale !
what. Lurden, 2 art thou woode ? ''
the Porter [weend 3 ] itt had beene soe,
244 & lightlye did off his hoode.
" welcome is my hords seale ! " he said ;
" for that you shall come in."
he opened the gates shortlye :
248 an euill opening ffor him !
" Now are wee in," said Adam Bell,
" wheroff wee are right ffaine ;
but christ hee knowes assuredlye 4
252 how wee shall gett out againe."
" had wee the Keyes," sayd Clim of the Cloughe,
" right well then shold wee speede ;
then might wee come out well enouge
256 when wee see time & neode."
but they
show him
the King's
seal,
and then ho
lets them
in.
To make
sure of
getting out,
1 the good yeman. — Bel.
■a heavy stupid fellow. L. — P.
3 thought. — P. went. — Eel. i.e. weened,
mote ib.
* knowes, that harrowed hell. — Eel.
86
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF TIIE CLOUGHE,
they wring
the Porter's
neck, and
take his
keys away.
260
the called the Porter to conncell,
& wrang his necke in towe ;
& cast him in a deepe du[n]geon,
& tooke his keycs him ffroe.
" noAv am I Porter," sayd Adam Bell;
" see, brother, the Keyes haue wee here ;
the worst Porter in merry Carlile
264 that came l this 100? yeere.
Then they " n0 w we e will our bowes bend,
into the towne will wee goe,
ffor to delitier onr deere Brother
268 that lyeth in care & woe."
bend their
bows,
and go to
the market-
place,
then they ben[t] their good ewe bowes,
& looked their strings were round 2 :
the Markett place in merry Carlile
272 they besett in that stonde. 3
& as they looked them beside,
a paire of new gallowes there they see,
& the Instice with a qnest 4 of Squiers
276 that indged willmm hanged to bee.
where
Clowdeslee
is bound,
and has a
rope round
his neck.
& Clowdeslee lay ready there in 5 a Cart,
ffast bonnd both ffoote and hand ;
& a strong rope about his necke,
280 all readye ffor to hange.
1 The have had.— Eel.
2 qu. sound. — P. So Aseham says,
" The stringe. must be rounde." Toxoph.
p. 149, Ed. 1761. A precept not very
intelligible now. P.'s note in h'/liqucs, i.
142. A string not round would of course
spoil the shooting. — F.
3 stound, signum, Momentum, liora,
spatium, tempus. Lye. — P.
4 quest, search ; searchers collectively
■— also an impanel'd Jury. See Johnson.
—P.
* MS. therein.— F.
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
87
284
the Iustice called to him a Ladcl :
Clowdeslee clothes hee shold haue,
to take the measure of that yeoman,
therafter to make his graue.
The Justice
sends a lad
to measure
him for his
grave,
" I haue seene as great Marveill," said Cloudeslee,
" as betweene ' this and prime 2 ;
he that maketh a graue flfor mee,
288 himselfe may lye therin."
"thou speukest proudlye," said the Iustice;
" I will thee hang with my hand."
ffull well hard this his brethren towe
292 there still as they did stand.
and
threatens to
hang
Clowdeslee
himself.
then Cloudeslee cast his eye aside,
& saw his tow brethren
att a corner of the Markett place
296 ready the Iustice to slaine.
" I see comfort," said Cloudeslee,
" yett hope I well to ffare ;
If I might haue my hands att will,
300 right litle wold I care."
[page 394]
Clowdeslee
says he'd
care little
if he could
get his
hands free.
then spake good Adam Bell
to Clim of the Cloughe soe ffree,
" brother, see you marke the Iustice well
304 loe, yonder you may him see ! "
Adam tells
Clim to
shoot the
Justice,
" att the shirriffe shoote I will
stronglye with an arrow kecne ;
a better shoote in merry Carlilo
308 this 7 yeere was not seene."
while he
shoots tho
Sheriff.
Only half the w in tho MS.— F.
2 prime, the first Part of the day.
Dawn, morning. Johnson. — P.
88
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
They both
shoot ;
and Sheriff
and Justice
they loosed their arrowes both att once ;
of no man had they dread ;
the one hitt the shirr[i]ffe, the other the Iustice,
312 that both their sides can bleede.
get their
death -
wounds.
all men voyded that them stoode nye
when the Instice ffell to the ground,
& the shirriffe nye him by :
316 either had his deathes wound.
They loose
Clowdeslee.
all they citizens ffast gan fflye,
they durst no longer abyde.
there lightlye they losed Clowdeslee.
320 where hee with ropes lay tyde.
He seizes an
axe and
smites men
down.
william start to an officer of the towne,
his axe out of his hand hee wrunge ;
on eche side he smote them clowne,
324 hee thought hee tarryed all to longe.
willmm said to his brethren towe,
" this day lett vs liue and dye ;
If euer you haue need as I haue now,
328 the same shall you ffind by mee."
Adam and
Clim shoot
on
332
they shott soe well that tyde,
for their stringes were of silke sure,
that the kept the streetes on euery side ;
that battell long did endure.
and kill
many,
they fought together like brethren true,
like hardy men and bold ;
many a man to the ground they threw,
336 & made many a hart cold. 1
1 And many ;t heart made cold. — P. and Bet.
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
89
but when their arrowes were all gone,
men pressed to them ffull ffast ;
they drew their swords then anon,
340 & their bowes fFrom them cast.
till their
arrows fail.
Then they
draw their
swords,
they went lightlye on their way
With swords & buckelers round
by that itt was niidd l of the day,
344 the made many a wound.
and by noon
kill many
men.
there was many an outhorne 2 in Carlile was blowne, The horns
are blown,
& the bells backward did ringe ; and beUs
rung back-
many a woman said " alas ! " wards.
348 & many their hands did ringe.
the Maior of Carleile fforth come was,
& with him a ffull great route ;
these yeomen dread him ffull sore,
352 for of their Hues they stoode in great doubt.
The Mayor
comes down
with a
force
the Maior came armed a ffull great pace,
w*th a Pollaxe in his hande ;
many a strong man with him was,
356 there in thai stowre 3 to stand.
of strong
men,
360
they maior smote att Cloudeslee with his bill,
liis buckeler brast in 2 ;
ffull many a yeaman with great euill,
" alas, treason ! " the crycd ffull woe 4 :
"keepe well the gates," ffast they bade,
" that these trayters thereout not goe."
cnts
Clowdeslee's
buckler in
two,
and orders
the spates
to be kept
fast.
1 middle, middst. — P.
2 Out-horne. An outlaw (!). Ilalli-
F, Read a nouthorne, a,
neat's horn. Nowt cattle, Wright's
(ilnss.— Skeat.
3 fight, conflict. Lye. — P.
4 Alas ! they crycd for wo. — Rcl.
90
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
But the
three get
safely out.
Adam
throws back
the keys,
and tells
the people
to appoint a
new Porter.
but all ffor naught was that they wrought,
364 ffor soe fast they were downe Laycl,
till they all 3 that soe mauffully ffought
were gotten out att a brayde. 1
"haue here jour keyes ! " said Adam Bell,
368 " mine office here I fforsake ;
If you doe by my Councell,
a new Porter doe you make."
he threw their keyes att their heads,
372 & bad them euill 2 to thriue,
& all that letteth any good yeoman
to come & comfort his wiffe.
The three
go to the
trysting
tree,
find fresh
bows and
arrows,
and eat and
drink well.
thus be the good yeomen gone to the wood :
376 as lightly e as leaue on lynde 3
they laugh & be merry in their wood 4 ;
there enemyes were ffarr behind.
when they came to merry greenwood,
380 vnder the trustye tree,
there they ffound bowes ffull good,
And arrowes great plentye. [page 395]
" soe god me help ! " sayd Adam Bell
384 & Clim of the Cloughe soe ffree,
" I wold wee were in Merry Carlile
before that ffaire Meanye."
the sate downe & made goode cheere,
388 & eate & dranke ffull well.
a 2 d ffitt of the wightye yeomen :
another I will you tell.
1 Qu. all ahraide, i.e. abroad. North
Country dialect: abroad, /oris, c^ abroad,
Scot, braid, lotus, quod a Sax. brad, al.
breider. Jun. — P. "att a brayde "is
suddenly. — F.
2 No i in the MS.— F.
3 Linden Tree. Lye. A Lime Tree.
Gloss, to G. Doug.— P.
4 A manifest mistake for " mood,"
which the other copies have. — Dyce.
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
91
[The Third Part.]
[How the three Outlaws are pardoned by the King, and shoot before him.]
392
As they sate in English woode
vnder the greenwoode tree,
they thought they hard a woman weepe,
but her they cold not see.
3"! parte. <J
396
sore then sighed ffaire Allice,
& said, " alas that euer I saw this day !
ffor [nowe x ] is my dere husband slaine ;
alas, and wellaway !
They hear a
woman
lamenting
that her
husband is
slain.
" Might I haue spoken with his deare brethren,
400 or with either of them twaine,
to show them what him befell,
my hart were out of paine."
Cloudeslee walked a litle aside ;
404 hee looked vnder the greenewood lynde
hee was ware of his wiffe & Children 3
ffull woe in hart and minde.
Clowdeslee
finds that
she is his
wife, with
his three
children.
" welcome wiffe," then said will/«m,
408 " vnder the trustye tree !
I had wend yesterday, by sweet S* Iohn,
thou sh oldest me neuer had see."
He welcomes
them,
" now well is mo," she said, " /hut } r ce be here !
412 my hart is out of woe."
" dame," he said, "be merry & gladd,
& thanke my bretheren towe."
and tells his
wife to
thank his
mates.
nowe. — Bel.
92
" Don't talk
of that,"
says Adam:
" let's shoot
our supper."
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
" lierof to speake," said Adam Bell,
416 " I-wis itt is noe boote ;
the meate that wee must supp witk-all,
itt runeth yett ffast on ffoote."
Each of the
three shoots
a fat hart,
then went they downe into the Lawnde, 1
420 these Noblemen all 3 ;
eche of them slew a hart of greece, 2
they best that they cold see.
and
Clowdeslee
gives the
best to his
wife.
" haue here the best, Allice my wiffe,"
424 saith william of Cloudeslee,
"because yee soe boldlye stood by mee
when I was slaine Bull nye."
They sup
and are
merry.
Clowdeslee
says " We'll
go to the
King for
pardon."
then they went to supper
428 with such meate as they hadd,
& thanked god ffor their ffortune :
they were both merry and glad.
& when they had supped well,
432 certaine, without any lease,
Cloudeslee said, " wee will to our King,
to gett vs a Charter of peace ;
" Allice shalbe att our soiourninge
4.36 att a nnnnerye heere besyde ;
my 2 sonnes shall with her goe,
& there they shall abyde.
"My Eldest sonne shall goe with mee,
440 for him I haue noe care,
& hee shall bring you word againe
how that wee doe ffare."
1 Qu. Lawne. — P. a launde. — Rcl.
A clear space in a forest. — F.
Fr. graissc, fat. — F,
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
93
thus be these good yeomen to London gone
444 as ffast as they might hye,
till they came to the Kinge palace
where they wold needs bee.
They then
goto
Loudon,
but when they came to the "Kings court
448 & to the pallace gate,
of no man wold they aske leaue,
but boldlye went in theratt.
walk
straight
into the
they proceeded p?*esentlye into the hall,
452 of no man they had dread ;
the Porter came after, & did them call,
& w/th them gan to chyde.
King's hall,
the vsher said, " yeomen, what wold you haue ?
456 I pray you tell to mee ;
you might make officers shent l :
good sirrs, ffrom whence bee yee ? "
" Sir, wee be outlawes of the fforrest,
4G0 certes without any Lease ;
& hither wee be come to the King,
to gett vs a Charter of peace."
& when they came before the Kinge,
464 as ill was the law of the land
they kneeled downe w/thout lettinge,
& eche held vpp his hande.
i bey sayd : " hord, wee beseechc yee sure
468 I Imt yee will grant vs grace !
for wee haue slaine jour ffatt fallow deere
in 2 many a sundrye place."
tell the
Usher who
they are,
kneel to the
King,
and ask his
pardon for
killing his
deer.
1 For no! keeping them out. Seethe
itities of Prince Edward's Porters, a. d.
1474, in Household Ordinances, p. *30.
ind of Henry VIIL's Porters, ibid.p. 239.
Also Boke of Curtasye, 1. 3C1-78, Babecs
Book&c, p. 310— F.
- im in .MS.— F.
94
The King
asks their
names.
They tell
him.
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
" whatt be jour names ? " then sayd the Kmg ;
472 " anon that you tell mee."
They sayd, "Adam Bell, Clim 1 of the Clough, [page 39G]
and william of Cloudeslee."
He swears
he'll hang
them all,
and orders
their arrest.
"be yee those theenes," then said our Ki[ng],
476 " that men haue told to me ?
here I make a vow to god,
you shall bee hanged all 3.
" yee shalbe dead without mercye,
480 as I am ~King of this land ! "
he commanded his officer[s] euery one
ffast on them to lay hand.
there they tooke these good yeomen
484 & arrested them all 3.
"soe may I thriue," said Adam Bell,
" this game liketh not mee.
They pray
him to let
them go
with the
weapons
they
brought.
" but, good Lord, wee beseeche you now
488 that yee will grant vs grace,
in soe much as wee doe to you come,
or else that wee may from you passe 2
" with, such weapons as wee haue heere
492 till wee be out of yowr place ;
& iff wee Hue this 100? yeere,
of you wee will aske noe grace."
The King
refuses:
they shall
be hanged.
The Queen
intercedes
for them,
"yee speake proudlye," said the Kmg ;
496 " yee shall be hanged all 3."
" that were great pittye," sayd the Queene,
" if any grace might bee.
1 MS. Cliim.— F.
2 Insomuch as frele to you we comen,
As frele fro you to passo. — Iiel.
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
95
" my Lord!, when I came ffirst into this Land
500 to be your weded wiffe,
[you said] the ffirst boone that I wold aske,
you wold grant me belyue.
and asks the
King for the
boon he
promised
her.
" & I asked yee neuer none till now ;
504 therefore, good hord, grant itt mee."
" now aske itt, Madam," said the King,
" & granted itt shalbe."
He says it
shall be
granted.
"then, good my Lore?, I you beseeche,
508 these yeomen grant yee mee."
" Maddam, 1 yee might haue asked a boone
that shold haue beene worth them all 3.
"Then give
me these
yeomen."
" you might haue asked towers & townes,
512 Parkes & ffoi'rests plentye."
" none soe pleasant to my pay, 2 " shee sayd,
"nor none 3 soe leefe 4 to mee."
" Madam, sith itt is yo«r desire,
516 jour askinge granted shalbe ;
but I had leever haue giuen you
good Markett townes three."
the Queene was a glad woman,
520 & said, " Lord, god a mercye !
I dare vndertakc fibr them
that true men the}' shalbee.
" I will,
though I'd
rather have
given you
3 market
towns."
The Queen
" but, good hord, speake some merrye word,
524 thai some comfort they might see."
:t I grant you grace," then said the Kmg,
•■washe ffellowes, & to meate goe yee."
then gets the
King to
order her
men food.
1 .MS. Maddan.— P.
1 rid. Page 363, St. 23 [of MS.; in the
'2ml Pari i if John de Reeve]. — P.
3 nore in MS. — F.
1 leefe, dear, beloved. Johns" — P.
96
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF TTIE CLOUGHE,
Soon come
messengers
they had not sitten but a while,
528 certaine without Leasinge, 1
there came 2 messengers out of the North
with letters to our kinge.
from
Carlisle.
The King
aslcs after
bis Justice
and Sheriff.
" They've
been slain
& when they came before the King
532 the kneeled downe vpon their knee,
& said, " jour officers greete you well
of Carlile in the North cuntrye."
" how flfareth my Iustice ? " sayd the King,
536 " and my Sherriffe alsoe ? "
" Sir, they be slaine, without leasinge,
& many an officer moe."
by Adam,
Clim, and
Clowdeslee. :
" who hath them slaine ? " then said the King
540 " anon that you tell mee."
" Adam Bell, Clim of the Cloughe,
& william of Cloudeslee."
"alas ! ffor wrath, 2 " then sayd our King,
544 " my hart is wonderous sore ;
I had rather then a 1000 1 /
I had knowen this before,
" If I'd
known this
before, I'd
have hung
them."
" ffor I haue granted them grace,
548 & thai fforthinketh 3 mee ;
but had I knowen all this before,
they had beene hangd all 3."
The King
then reads
of the 300
men slain
by the 3
outlaws,
the King hee opened the letter anon,
552 himselfe he read itt thoe,
& there found how these outlawes bad slaine
300 men and moe :
j.e. Lying. Jun. — P.
- rewth.— Bel.
repents. — F.
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
97
" ffirst the Iustice & the Sheriffe,
556 & the Maior of Carlile towne, —
of all the Constables and catcpoules,
Aliue were left but one.
(the Mayor,
Catchpolls,
lpage 397]
" the Baliffes & the Beadeles both,
560 & the Sargeaunt of the law,
& 40 fforresters of the ffee,
these outlawes haue the slawe,"
Beadles,
Serjeant
of Law,
and 40
foresters,)
" & broke his parkes, & slaine his deere,
564 of all they Coice 2 the best ;
soe pe?illous outlawes as they were,
walked not by East nor west."
and his deer
killed.
when the Kmg this Letter had read,
568 in hart he sighed sore,
"take vp the tables, 3 " then sayd hee,
"ffor I can eate no more."
the ~King then called his best archers
572 to the butts with him to goe,
" to see 4 these ffellowes shoot," said hee,
" that in the north haue wrought this woe."
the "Kings archers busket 5 them blythe,
576 soe did the Queenes alsoe,
soe did these 3 weightye yeomen,
they thought w/th them to goe.
there 2"° or 3*f they shott about
580 for to assay their hand ;
there was no shoote these yeomen shott
that any pricke G might stand.
and can eat
no more.
But he
calls his
archers
to shoot
against
the 3
outlaws.
' slain.— P.
2 Qu. chose. — P.
3 They were laid on trestles.- F.
' I w.vll Be.— Bel.
5 busked; Scot, busk it, dress'd, decked
VOL. III.
(a Fr. busc, a busk that weomen (so)
wear). Gloss, ad G. Doug' see P. 364,
St. 36, Pag. 246, St, 26.— P.
6 ? here the wooden pin in the centre
of tli c target. — F.
98
ADAM BELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGIIE,
Clowdeslee
says the
butts arc too
wide.
then spake william of Cloudeslee,
584 "by him that ffor me dyed,
I hold him not a good archer
that shooteth att butts soe wyde."
" wheratt ? " said the Kinge,
588 " I pray you tell to mee."
" att such a butt, Sir," hee said,
"as men vse in my countrye."
He sets
2 hazel
sticks at 400
paces,
william went into the ffeild,
592 & his 2 brethren with him ;
there they sett vp 2 hassell rodds
400 paces betweene.
shoots, and
splits one
in two.
Then he
proposes to
tie his son
to a stake,
" I hold him an archer," said Cloudeslee,
596 " that yonder wand cleeueth in towe."
"heere is none such," said the "King,
"for no man can soe doe."
"I shall assay," sayd Cloudeslee,
600 " or that I ffurther goe."
Cloudeslee with a bearing l arrow
claue the wand in towe.
"thou art the best archer," said our King,
604 " fforsooth that euer I see."
" & yett ffor jour loue," said william,
" I will doe more mastery e :
" I haue a sonne is 7 yeere old,
608 hee is to me ffull deere ;
I will tye him to a stake —
all shall see him that bee here, —
1 ? moaning of bearing. Strutt says,
" I rathor think the poet meant an arrow
shot ' compass,' for the pricke or wand
was a 'mark of compass,' that is, the
arrow in its flight formed the segment of
a circle." Sports, p. 65, ed. Hone. As
all arrows do that, this can be no ex-
planation of either "mark of compass"
(on which see my note on " pricks " in
The Babccs Book, cfc.) or " bearing." — F.
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
99
" & lay an apple vpon his head,
612 & goe sixe score paces hini ffroe,
& I my selfe with a broad arrrowe
shall cleaue the apple in towe."
and splil an
apple on his
head at 120
paces.
"now hast thee," said the Kinge ;
616 " by him that dyed on a tree,
but if thou dost not as thou has sayd,
hanged shalt thou bee !
" & thou touch his head or gowne
620 in sight that men may see,
by all the Saints ^/i<zt bee in heauen,
I shall you hang all 3: ! "
The King
agrees ;
but if
Clowdeslee
fails, he's tc
be hanged,
and Adam
and Clim
too.
" that I haue promised," said william,
624 " that I will neuer flbrsa\e : "
& there euen before the 'King,
in the earth he droue a stake,
& bound thereto his eldest sonne,
628 & bade him stand still thereatt,
& turned the childes'flace him fl'roe
because hee should not start.
Clowdeslee
ties his boy
to a stake,
an apple vpon his head he sett,
632 & then his bow he bent ;
sixe score paces they were mcaten, 1
& thither Cloudcslee went.
puts an
apple on hia
head,
there he drew out a ffaire broad arrow,-
636 his bowe 2 was great and long, —
he sett that arrowe in his bowe
that was both stifle & stronge ;
Bets an
arrow in
his bow,
1 meted, i.e. measured. — P.
2 There is a tag at the end like a. — F,
100
ADAM DELL, CLIME OF THE CLOUGHE,
he prayed the people that were there
640 That they wold still stand, 1
" ffor hee that shooteth ffor such a wager
had need of a steedye hand."
[page 398]
much people prayed for Cloudeslee,
644 that his liffe saued might bee ;
& when hee made him readye to shoote,
there was many a weepinge eye.
and cleaves
the apple in
two.
The King
thus Cloudeslye claue the aple in 2,
648 as many a man might see :
" now god fforffbidd, 2 " then said the Km*/,
" that thou sholdest shoote att mee !
gives him
8d. a day,
and makes
him his
bowbearer.
" I gaue 3 thee 8 pence a day,
652 & my bow shalt thow beare,
& ouer all the north cuntrye
I make thee CheefFe ryder."
The Queen
gives him
13d. a day,
makes him a
gentleman,
puts his son
in her wine-
cellar,
" & He giue thee 13? a day," said the Queene,
656 "by god and by my ffay !
come ffeich thy payment when thou wilt,
no man shall say thee nay.
" willi am, I make thee a gentleman,
660 of Cloathinge and of ffee ;
& thy 2 bretheren, yeomen of my chamber,
for they are louely 4 to see.
" jour sonne, ffor hee is tendar of age,
664 of my winesellar he shalbe ;
& when hee comes to mans estate,
better prefferred shall hee bee.
1 The same injunction is often heard
at, firing-points now. — F.
2 Over Gods forbode.— Eel.
8 give. — P.
4 so semely. — Rel.
AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEE.
101
" & wilh'am, bring me yo»r wiffe," said the Queene,
668 " I long her sore to see ;
shee shall bee my cheefe gentlewoman l
to gouerne my nnrserye."
the yeomen thanked them full curteouslye,
672 & sayd, " to some Bishopp wee will wend ;
of all the sinns that wee haue done,
to be assoyled 2 att his hand."
and promises
to set his
wife
over her
nursery.
Tin three
go to a
Bishop
to be
shriven,
soe forth be gone these good yeomen
676 as ffast as they can hye,
& after came & liued with, the K.mg f
& dyed good yeomen all 3.
and then
live
and die well.
Thus endeth the liffe of these good yeomen,
680 god send them eternall blisse !
& all that with, a hand-bow shooteth,
that of heauen they may neuer misse ! IlirilS.
God send
them and all
bowmen
bliss 1
MS. gentlewonnan. — F.
2 i.e. absolved, Assoile, absolvere,
liberare. Lye. — P.
102
As the Cyclic poets adopted the lesser Homeric heroes as the
centres of new epics, as the Eomancists in process of time cele-
hrated other members of the Round Table besides its great
founder, as the ballad-writers sung of Much and Scarlett as well
as of Robin Hood, so here one who appears as a minor character
in the great poem of " Adam Bell, Gym of the Clough, and
William of Cloudeslee," has a poem devoted to his special honour.
The piece was printed in 1605 by James Roberts, along with
his reprint of Copland's edition of the greater poem of which
this is a parasite. With this the Folio copy has been collated.
Listen, my
Northern
lads,
to the brave
deeds
of voung
William
Clowdeslee,
who loved a
bonny lass.
12
10
JjISTE : northeren Ladds, to blyther things
then yett were brought to light,
performed by our Countrymen
in many 2 a ffray and flight,
of Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough,
and william of Clowdeslee, 3
who were in flavor with the Kinge
flbr all their miserye.
younge william of the wine-sellar, 4
when yeoman hee was made,
gan fibllowe then his Sathers stepps,
hee loued a bonny mayde.
" gods crosse ! " quoth. wilhVrm, " if I misse,
& may not of her speede,
lie make 1000 northerne 5 hartes 6
flbr verry woe to bleede.
1 List Northcrno Laddes to blither
things.— E.
2 miekle. — R.
3 Cloudisly.— R.
4 Pec the last poem, 1. 664, p. 100.—?.
5 Only half of the second n in the MS.
-F.
6 a thousand Northen hearts. — R.
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
103
gone is lice l a wooinge now,
our Ladye -will 2 him guide ;
to merry mansfeild, will, 3 I trow,
20 a time hee will abyde.
" Soone dop 4 the dore, ffaire Sislye bright, 5
I come with all the hast ;
I am come a wooinge to 6 thee for loue,
24 heere am I come att Last."
" I know you not," q?(otk Sisely 7 tho,
" from whence that yee be come 8 ;
my loue you may not haue, I trow,
28 I vow by this ffaire 9 sonne. 10
" ffor why, my loue is ffixt so sure
vpon another wight ;
I sweare by sweet Ann, He neuer
32 abuse him out of sight !
" this night I hope to see my loue
in all his pryde and glee ;
If there were thousands, none but him [page 399]
36 my hart wold ioye to see."
lie goes
courting
to Mansfield,
and tells fair
Sisely to
open the
door.
Sisely says
she can't
love him,
as her love
is fixed on
another,
whom she
hopes to see
to-night.
40
" gods cursse vppon [him,] n " younge will/am sayd, Young
Clowdeslee
before me that hath sped ! curses him,
a ffoule ill on the carryon nursse
that ffirst did binde his head ! "
gan wilKom tho for to prepare
a medcine ffor the chaffe 12 ;
" his liffc," quoth, hee, " ffull hard may ffare ;
44 bees best to keepe alaffe."
and resolves
to kill her
lover.
1 he is.— R. 2 well.— E.
3 where. — R.
4 dope, i.e. do open. — P.
5 Some dop the dore fuire Cicelie
bright.— R.
• to omitted.— R. ' Cicelie.— R.
8 MS. become. — F. bee come. — R.
9 ffaure with a dot over tho u in the
MS.— F.
10 sun.— P. " him.— R.
12 ? for chujTc, a term of reproach.
Halliwell. See Lord en, 1. 71. — F. medi-
cino for that chaffe. — R.
104
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
He draws
his sword,
48
he drew then out his bright browne sword,
which was soe bright and keene ;
a stonter man & hardyer
neere handled sword, I weene.
and by way
of trying it,
" browne tempered Sword & worthye l blade,
vnto thy master showe,
if thou 2 to tryall thou be put,
52 how thou canst 3 byde a blowe."
cuts in two
an oak
56 inches
round,
younge Will/'om to an oke gan hye
which, was in compasse round
well 56 4 inches nye,
& ffeld itt to the ground.
wishing it
was Ms rival.
" soe mote he ffare," quoth, wilh'am tho,
" that ffor her loue hath Layde
which I haue loued, & neere did know
60 him sutor till that mayde.
He longs
for his
father,
" & now, deere ffather stout & stronge,
william of Cloudeslee,
how happy were thy troubled sonne
64 if here I might 5 thee see,
Adam,
and Clim,
as they'd
fight 1000
men.
" & thy 2 6 brethren Adam Bell
& Clim of the Cloughe ;
against a 1000 men & more
68 wee 4 wold bee enoughe.
}\c calls on
Siscly's lover
to conic on,
72
" growne itt is null 4 a clocke,
& night will come beliue ;
Come on, thou Lorden, sisleys 7 loue !
this night I must 8 thee shriue.
1 strong, and worthy. — E.
2 that.— P. now.— E.
3 canst thou. — E.
* Read "six and fifty."— F. six and
fifty.— E.
6 mot.— E.
7 Lurden Cisleis. — E.
8 must I.— R.
" too.— E.
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE. 105
" prepare thee strong, thou ffowle black calfe ! !
what ere thou be, I weene
He giue thy coxcombe sayke 2 a girde 3
76 in mansfeiild as was neuer 4 seene."
will/«m a young ffawne had slaine and takes
J ° a fawn
in 5 sherwood merry fforrest ;
a ffairer ffawne ffor mans meate 6
80 in sherwood was neuer drest.
hee hyed then till a northeren Lasse 7 to an old
woman
not halfe a mile him ffroe, 8
he said, " dop the dore, 9 thou good ould nursse,
84 that in to thee I goe ;
" I ffaint With being in the woods 10 ;
loe, heere I haue a kidd
which. I haue slaine ffor thee & mee n ;
88 come, dresse itt then, I bidd ; to cook for
him.
" ffeitch bread and other lolly ffare,
Avhereof thou hast some store ;
a blyther guest this 100 yeere
92 came neuer heere before."
the good old naunt 12 gan lryc apace The old
CI ft 1 1 1 C
to lett young William in ; lets him in,
" a happy nursse," quoth william then,
96 " as can be lightlye seene.
1 fow black Caufe. — R. ' Mansfield as neuer was. — It.
2 In what district is sayke used for s MS. im. — F. 8 ymeat. — It.
such ? Jn Somersetshire, jitch is the 7 Northcrne lasse. — R.
word, llalliwcll, ]>. xxvii., xxviii. In H lie fro. — R.
Lancashire, sick (K. xxiii.), but at Bury !l dop dore. — R. I0 wood.— R.
Hitch {Hi.) ; and in ( iloiuvstershiru cilch " slo for thee and I. — R.
(II. xviii.) n Nant. R.
3 a gird. — R.
106
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
and he
promises
her a reward
100
" wend till that house hard by," q?foth hee,
" thats made of lime and stone,
where is a Lasse, ffaire Cis," hey ! said, 2
" I loue her as my owne.
if she'll fetch
Sisely to
him.
" If thou canst ffeitch her vnto me
that wee may merry bee,
I make a vowe, in the fforrest
104 of deere thou shalt haue fFee."
She under-
takes
to bring
Sisely,
"rest then, ffaire Sir," the woman said,
" I sweare by good S' Iohn
I will bring to you that same maid
108 ffull quicklye and anon."
" meane [time], 3 " qwotk William, " He be Cooke,
to see the ffawne well drest 4 : "
a stouter Cooke did neuer come
1 12 within the ffaire fforrest.
and hies off
to her,
thicke 5 blyth old lasse had witt enoughe 6
ffor to declare his mind ;
soe ffast shee hyed, & neere did stay,
116 but left william behinde,
while
William
cooks the
fawn.
where wilh'am like a nimble cooke
is dressing of the ffare,
& ffor this damsell doth hee looke,
120 "I wold that shee weer heere ! "
[page 400]
» [insert] he.— P. The MS. is Cishey,
for Cis he, or, moro probably, CisJcy. — F.
2 Cisse hee said. — E.
3 meane time. — P. meane time. — E.
* I drest.— li.
5 ? the district of thicke for that. In
Dorsetshire thik is used. See Ilalli-
well's Gloss, p. xvi., and Barnes's Glos-
sary. Thickeo, this, Devon, and thicca
cloud, p. xr. Halliwell. Thick, the one
that, that which, Somersetshire. Thee's
know thick us da meanne, tha da call 'm
wold Boss {it>. p. xxvii. col. 1). — F.
6 enow. — E.
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
107
"god speed, blyth Cisley l ! " q?toth that old Lasse.
" god dild 2 yee," qwoth Cisley, " againe ;
how doe yee, naunt lone 3 ? " sliee said,
124 " tell me itt, I am ffaine."
the good old woman 4 said " weele shee was,
& comen an arrand to 5 you ;
for you must to my cottage gone
1 28 ffull quickley, 6 I tell you true,
" where wee ffull merry meane to bee
all with my elder Ladd."
when Cisley hard of itt, trulye
132 shee was exceeding gladd.
" gods cursse light on me," q?roth Cisley tho,
" if wtth you that 7 I doe not bye !
I neuer ioyed more, fforsoothe,
136 then in yowr Companye."
happy the good wiffe thought her selfe
that of her purpose shee had sped, 8
& home wi'th Sisley shee is came, 9
140 soe lightly e they did tread l0 ;
& coming in, here wilh'am soone
had made readye his ffare ;
the good old wiffe did wonder much
144 soe soone as shee came there.
The old
dame
tells Sisely
she must
come and
make merry
in her
cottage.
Sisely gladly
agrees to go,
and into the
cottage they
walk.
William has
his venison
ready,
Cisley to wilhVn» now is gone, 11
god send her Mickle glee,
yett was shee in a maze, god wott,
148 when shee saw itt was hee.
and Sisely
with him.
i Cisse.— R.
7 yield it. — F. requite, speed : "Well,
God dild you ! " says Ophelia. Hamlet,
act iv. sc. 5. — Dyce.
3 done you Nant Iono. — R.
• lone.— R.
s till.— R. 6 q-iick.— R.
7 that omitted.— R.
8 that her purpose he had of sped. — R.
9 she doth come. — R.
10 did they read. — R.
11 come. — R.
108
YOUNGE CLOUDE.SLEE.
But she says
she'd never
have come if
she'd known
he was there.
William
prays her to
stop and eat
his kid ;
and his
loving words
win her
heart.
Meantime
Sisely's
lover,
a noble-
minded
man,
"had I beene ware, good Sir," sliee said,
" of that itt bad beene you,
I wold bane stayd att borne in sooth,
152 I tell yon verry true."
"faire Cisley," said then 1 wilb'rnn Kind,
" misdeeme thee not of mee ;
I sent not ffor thee to that 2 end
156 to doe the iniurye.
" sitt downe that wee may talke awhile,
& eate all of the best,
the ffattest kidd that euer was slaine
160 in merry Sherwood fforrest. 3 "
bis louinge 4 Avords wan Cisley then
With him to keepe 5 a while ;
but in the meane time Cisleys loue
164 of her was tho beguile.
a stout & sturdy man bee was
of qualitye & kind,
& knowen 6 through all the north cuntrye
168 to beare a noble minde.
comes to her
cottage ;
but she is
lied.
"but," quoth. 7 willmm, " doe I care ?
if that bee meane to weare,
first lett 8 him winne, 9 else neuer shall
172 he haue the mayd, I sweare."
ffull softly e is her loue[r] 10 come,
and knocked att the dore :
but tho u he mist Cisleys companye, 12
176 wher-att bee stampt and 13 swore.
1 then said. — It.
2 to the.— R.
8 Sir-wood Forrest. — It.
4 Only half the n in the MS.— F.
6 to keepe with him.— R.
c knowne. — R.
7 Jint what quoth.— R.
8 There appears to he some letter
between the e and t in the MS. — F. let.
— R.
! ' wime in tho MS. — F.
10 loner.— R. " i.e. then.— P.
12 roome. — R.
13 Only half the n in the MS.— F.
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
109
180
"a misclieeffe on his heart," qwoth hee,
" that hath allured this ' mayd
to bee with him in company ! "
he cared not what hee sayd,
He curses
her beguiler,
hee was soe 2 with anger moued,
he sware a well great othe,
" deere shold hee pay if I him knew,
184 fforsooth & by my trothe ! "
gone hee is to ffind her out,
not knowing where shee is ;
still wandering in the weary wood
188 his true loue he doth misse.
and swears
he shall pay
for her if
he finds him.
willAim purchased 3 hath the game
which, hee doth meane to hold,
" come, rescew her and if you can,
192 and dare to be soe bold ! "
But William
means to
keep her.
Att lenght when hee had wandred long [page 401 ] At last
the lover
about the iiorrest side, 4
a Candle lio-lit a ffurloner of 5
o o
196 Hull quickley hee espyed.
then to the house hee hyed him ffast,
where quicklye hee gan hcare
the voice of his owne true loue 6
200 a makinge bonny chcere.
hears
Sisclj '.-,
voice.
then gan he say to Cisley tho,
" Cisley, come away !
I haue beene wandring thee to Hind
204 since shutting in of day."
He calls her
to come to
him.
1 the.- I.'.
2 yso. — B.
3 pui\'h;ist. — R.
* wide. — R.
6 off— R.
8 ownu deere truo loue.
-R,
110
YOUJSGE CLOUDESLEE.
William
asks who
dares do this.
208
" who calls ffaire Cisley l ? " qnoth. wilh'am tlio, 2
" what carle dares be soe bold,
once to aduenture to her to speake
who [I] haue in my hold 3 ? "
The lover
threatens
him.
" List thee, ffaire Sir," qwoth Cisley s lone,
" lett quickelye her ffrom yon part :
ffor all your Lordlye words, Tie sweare 4
212 He hane her, or lie make yon 5 smart ! "
William says
he'll
young William to his bright browne sword
gan qnickelye then to take :
" because thou soe doest challenge me,
216 He make thy kingdome quake.
fight for his
love.
" betake thee to thy weapon stronge,
ffaire time I giue to thee ;
& ffor my loue as well as thine
220 a combatt flight will I."
" neuer lett sunn," q?(oth Cisley s lone,
" shine more vpon my head,
If I doe flrye, by heauen aboue,
224 wert thou a gyant bredd ! "
He takes his
sword,
and the fight
begins.
It lasts two
hours,
to Bilbo blade got wilh'am tho
that was both stifle and stronge 6 :
a stout battell then they Sought,
228 weer neere 2 7 houres longe ;
where many a greiuous wound was giuen 8
to eche on either part,
till both the champyons then were droue
almost quite out of hart.
1 Cisse.— E.
2 then.— E.
8 whom I haue now in hold. — R.
4 I swoare. — It.
5 or make you. — R.
6 and buckler stiffo. — R.
7 well mo two. — R.
8 giue. — R.
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
Ill
23G
jDittyous moane fFaire Cisley made,
that all the fForrest rouge ;
the greiuous shrikes made such a noysc,
shee had soe shrill a tounge.
att last came in the keepers 3
with bowes and arrowes keene,
where they lett flye among these 2,
240 a 100? 1 as I weene.
Siscly
moaning
and
shrieking
all the
while.
Then three
keepers
come to stop
them,
will/am strong & stout 2 in hart,
when he had them espyed,
sett on courage ffor his part,
244 among the thickest hee hyed.
but William
the cheefe ranger of the woods
att mrst did william smite,
where att one blow he smote his head
248 ffrom of his shoulders quite.
cuts off tho
chief-
ranger's
head,
& being in soe ffuryous teene,
about him then hee Laid,
he slew immedyatlye the wight
252 was sutor to the mayde.
and then
kills Sisely's
lover.
great moane was then 3 made ;
the like was ncuer hard,
which made the people all around
256 to crye, they were soe ffeard.
The people
make great
moan,
" arme, arme ! " the cuntryc cryed,
" for gods loue quicklyc hye ! "
neuer was such a slaughter seene
2G0 in all the north countrye.
and raise tl.e
Cuiintry.
1 an hundred.— It.
stout and strong. — R.
3 then. — Jt.
112
YOLWGE CLOUDESLEE.
William kills
the other two
keepers,
wilKani still, tho * wounded sore,
continued still his 2 flight
till he had slaine them all 4
264 that verry winters 3 night.
all the contrye then was raysed,
the traitor ffor to take
that ffor the loue of Cisley ffaire
268 had all the slaughter make.
and then
hies
to a cave
with Sisely.
to the woods hyed william tho, — â–
itt was the best 4 of all his play,-
where in a eaue with Cisley ffaire
272 hee liued many a day.
Procla-
mation is
made to take
William.
proclamation then was sent [ pa g e 402]
the cuntrye all arounde,
' the ~Lord of Mansfeild shold hee bee
276 that ffirst the traytor ffounde.'
His father,
Adam, and
Clim,
to 5 the court these tydings came,
where all men doth 6 bewayle
the young & lustye Wilh'am
280 w//;'ch soe had made them quaile.
hyed vp william of Cloudeslee 7
& lustye Adam Bell,
& ffamous Clim of the Cloughc,
284 w/u'ch 3 did them 8 excell :
go to the
King,
and ask
mercy for
William's
son.
to the 'King they hyed them ffiast,
ffull quicklye & anon,
" mercye, I pray," qwoth old wilk'am,
288 " ffor william my sonne ! "
1 Will still though.— E.
2 in his. — II. ■' winter. — E.
* twas best.— R. 5 Till.— R.
6 did.— R.
7 Hied vp thon "William, Cloudosley.
— R. 8 then did. -R.
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
113
" no mercye, traitors ! " quoth the ~King,
" you shall be hanged all 4 ! l
vnder my nose this plott yee haue 2 laid,
292 to bring to passe before."
" Insooth," bespake then Adam Bell,
" ill signe jour grace hath seene
of any such commotyon
296 since with you wee haue beene.
The Kins,'
says he'll
hang all four
of them.
Adam then
says
" If then wee can no mercye haue,
but leese both liffe and goods,
of yowr good grace wee take our leaue,
300 & hye vs to the woods."
" arme, arme," then quoth the K.mg,
" my merry men euer-eche one, 3
ffull ffast againe these rebells nowe *
304 [that] 5 vnto the woods are gone ! "
" O, woe is vs ! what shall wee doe,
or which way shall wee worke,
to hunt them fforth out of the woods,
308 soe traiterouslye there that lurke ?
"list you," quoth a counsellor graue,
a wise man he seemed,
" the craued the TSLing his pardon ffree
312 vnto them to haue deemed."
they'll take
to the woods.
The King
orders his
men to arm
and pursue
the rebels.
The men
don't like the
job.
A counsellor
advises that
the rebels ba
pardoned.
" gods fforbott 6 ! " quoth the Kmg,
" I neuer itt will doe !
for they shall hang, eche mothers sonne,
316 I tell you verry true ! 7 "
The King
swears
he'll hang
them,
1 hang'd shall yeo be all fouro. — R.
* haue you. — R.
a euery chone. — R.
* now.— R. 5 that omitted .— R.
s forebode, Praceptum. Chauc. Goddea
VOL. III.
forebode to breke, dei prceceptum violare.
Lye. — P. Seo vol. i. p. 18, note '. "prick
him godsforbod." Hoywood's /â– .'/</-
grammes, 236. — F. forbod. — R.
7 fairo sir I tell you true. — R.
114
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
and sends
50,000 men
after them,
some of
whom go to
the woods.
But Adam
and Clim go
on killing
the King's
deer.
Then the
King
says,
" they are
fine fellows.
50000 men were charged
after them ffor to take ;
some of them sett in sundrye townes,
320 in companyes l did waite ;
to the woods gan some to goe,
in hope to ffincl them out ;
& them perforce they thaught to take,
324 if that they might ffind them out.
to they woods still they 2 came,
dispatched still they were,
w7«'ch made ffull many a trembling hart 3
323 & many a man in ffeare.
still the outlawes Adam Bell
& Clim of the Cloughe
made lolly cheere with venison,
332 stronge drinke & wine enoughe.
" Crist mee blesse ! " then said our King,
" such men were neuer knowne ;
they are they 4 stoutest harted men
336 that manhood euer shone 5 !
Make out
their
pardon,
" come, my secretary good,
& cause 6 to be declared
a generall pardon to them all,
340 -which neuer shalbe discared.
and give
them good
store
if they'll
come and
live with
me."
" liuings plenty they shall haue 7
of gold & eke of ffee,
If they did 8 as they did before,
344 come Hue in court with mee."
1 compamyee in the MS. — F.
2 still as they.— R.
8 heart.— R.
4 the.— R.
5 showne. — R.
* MS. caused. — F. cause. — P.
7 Liuing plenty shall they haue. — R.
B they will do.— P. they will.— R.
YOCNGE CLOUDESLEE.
115
348
soddenlye went fforth the newes
declared by trumpetts sound,
wherof these 3 were well advised
in cane as they were in ground.
The three
hear of this,
"but list you, Sirs," quoth, willmm younge, but young
" I dare not trust the Kinge ; r page 40 .3] doubtethe
itt is some ffeitch is in bis head,
352 wherby to bring vs in.
"nay, stay wee heere, or ffirst lett mee
a messenger bee sent
vnto the Court, where I may know
356 his maiestyes entent."
and asks
that he may
go to
court and
see him.
this pleased Adam Bell,
" soe wee may Hue in peace,
wee are att his most bye commando,
360 & neuer will we cease ;
Adam
agree?,
" but if that still wee shall be vrged,
& called by traitors x name,
& threated hanging for euery thing,
364 his hiprnesse is too blame.
3C8
" neare 2 had his grace subiects more true 3
& sturdyer then wee,
"which are att his hjgnesse will,
god send him well to bee ! "
saying that
the King
never had
better
subjects
than
themselves.
soe to the court is young willwmi gone
to parley with tbc Kinge,
where 4 all men to the Kings presence
372 did striue for to him brin^e. 5
Young
William
goes to the
King,
1 traitrous. — R.
s ne'er.— P.
3 moro subjects true. li.
* Which,— It.
6 him for to bring.
-R.
IK)
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
kneels to
him,
376
when hee before the K.mg was come,
he kneeled clowne ffull lowe ;
he showed qiiicklye to the Kinge
what duty they did owe.
and soon
wins him
over.
in such delightffull order blythe,
the ~King was quicklye woon l
to comfort them in their request,
330 as hee before had done.
The King
asks him
to stay the
night at
court,
" ffeitch bread & drinke," then said his grace,
" & rueate all of the best ;
& stay all night heere att the court,
384 & soundlye take thy rest."
and gives
him his seal
in token of
pardon.
" gramercy 2 to yo^tr grace," said will :
"for pardon granted, I see."
" for signe thereof, heere take my seale,
388 & for more certaintye."
" gods cursse vpon me," said will/am,
" for my part if I meane
Euer againe to stirr vp striffe !
392 itt neuer shalbe seene."
The Lords
and Ladies
welcome
him,
the Nobles all to Wilh'om came,
he were soe stout & trim,
& all the Ladyes for verry ioy
396 did come to welcome him.
and tell him
to bring
Sisely to
court.
" ffaire Cisley now I haue to wiffe,
in ffeild I haue her woone. 3 "
"bring her, for gods lone," said the 4 all,
400 " welcome shee shall bee soone. 5 "
<vonru .— R.
2 (ininiriviis. — K.
3 wonne. — R.
* they.— R.
1 full welcome shall she be. — R.
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
117
404
forth againe "went williawra backe,
to woode that hee did hye,
& to his ffather there hee shewed
the King his pardon ffree.
He goes
back,
and shows
his father
the King's
pardon.
" health to his grace," said Adam Bell,
" I begg itt on my knee."
the like said Clim of the Cloughe
408 & wilh'am of Cloudeslee.
to the court they all prepare
as ffast as * they can hye,
where gracyouslye they were receined
412 with mirth and merry glee.
Cisley ffaire is gone 2 alone
vpon a gelding ffayre ;
a properer 3 damsell neuer came
416 in any courtly e ayre.
" welcome, Cisley ! " sayd the Queene,
" & Lady I thee make,
to waite vpon my owne person
420 in all my cheefe estate. 4 "
soe quicklye -was the 5 matter done
which, was soe hardlye doubted,
I/mi all contentions after that
424 from court were quicklye rooted. 6
fauorable was the kinee,
for good 7 they did him ffind ;
They neuer after ffought againe 8 [page km]
428 to vex his royall minde.
Then all of
them
come to
court,
with Sisely
on a good
gelding.
The Queen
welcomes
her and
makes her a
Lady in
Waiting.
And so all
the trouble
is happily
settled,
1 etien as fast as. — R.
2 wend.— II.
3 proprer.— R.
* chiefc-I state- Et.
5 this. — R.
' row ted. — J\.
7 so good. — R.
s The neuer after sought againo. — R.
118
YOUNGE CLOUDESLEE.
and our
heroes
never after
troubled the
King.
432
long time 1 they liued in court
soe neere vnto the Kinge,
that neuer after attempted - was
offred ffor any thinge.
May God
prevent men
rebelling
god aboue, giue all men grace,
in quiett ffor to Hue,
& not rebelliouslye abroad
436 their princes ffor to greeue !
in hope of
getting
pardon,
let not the hope of pardon moue
a subiect to attempt
his soueraignes anger, or his loue,
440 ffrom him for to exempt ;
and make
all serve God
and the
King.
but that all men may ready e bee
With all their maine and might
to serue the lord, & loue the Kinge,
444 in honor day and night.
ffinis.
1 MS. tine. — F. Long time they. — E.
2 ? read " attempt there was." — Skeat.
was attempt. — E.
[This is headed throughout, The second part, of Adam Bell. The first part has no
such heading ; but lias this title, Adam Bell, dim of the Clough, and William
Cloudesle. Land. 1G05. 9 leaves. Eegister A, C 2. Part II., 7 leaves. Eegister
A 2, B4.
There are two copies in Bodley. 4° C. 39, Art, Seld. ; 'Ma-lone, 299.— G. Parker.]
[ " Come Wanton Wenches,'''' printed in Lo. & Hum. Songs,
2>. 80-1, follows here in the MS. p. 404.]
119
fox oftie x times? paste : x
What can one say on the moral of this song, better than " read
Mr. Tennyson's Golden Year'"' ? " The Old Time sure was best"
is a cry that has been dinned into Englishmen's ears for many a
century ; and though lately the loud-voiced satisfaction of the
comfortable classes and their orators was inclined to substitute
for the old cry " The present time sure is best," yet now that
a certainty of greater consideration in legislation for the poor
and weak, the ignorant and needy, is at hand, now that the
trustees of power are to be more quickly answerable to the sub-
jects of their trust for the fulfilment of it, many would willingly
in their cowardly qualms cry for old times of corruption again.
When will men have faith and its cheer, and work onwards for
England's future, instead of moaning and raving, and trying to
drag their country back ?
Still, the present poem is no Niagara and After, but a kind
of Young-England regret for the chivalry, the merry outlaw green-
wood life, the songs and dances, bows and hunts of an earlier time,
the pillars of pleasure seen without the intervening spaces of sad-
ness at the end of the arcade of English life — to use Mr. Herbert
Spencer's figure — while the spaces near are painfully plain.
Merry England is to the writer — a hunting man, witness lines
38 to 41— merry no longer ; and the cause of the decay of all the
olden pleasures is that put forward by so many of our early writers,
Pride, and, in the writer's time, miserliness in other things
to maintain it. With Conscience (ii. 189, 1. 126,) he could say,
"you must banish pride, and then all England were blest."
' An ( )l,l Song in Praise of Archery.— P. mid I lie good old times.— P.
120 IN OLDE TIMES PASTE.
This is a change from Kobert of Brunne's time in 1303, when
Envy — which I suppose to include social grumbling and dis-
content, then more than justifiable — was the Englishman's special
sin :
And Englys men namely
Are burghe kynde of herte by.
A forbyseyn ys tolde bys,
Seyde on Frenshe men and on Englys ;
Frenche men synne yn lechery,
And Englys men yn enuye.
Handlyng Synne, p. 131, 1. 4154-5.
Let us hope that the writer of the present piece had no more
ground for his complaint than the authors of similar ones have
now. The " fine old English Grentle-man " has never ceased from
the land, though his gentle-ness has been shown in forms varying
with the ages as they have passed on.
Of the poem itself we know no other copy. — F.
in merry IN : old times past when merry men [page 405]
old days
lived did merry makers ' make,
no man did greater matters then
Lancelot 4 then Lancelott of Dulake.
du Lake,
Robin Hood, good Robin hood 3 was liui[n]ge then,
which now is quite fforgott,
Ma y d & soe was ffaire Mayd Marryan,
Marry an, J •> '
8 a pretty wench, god wott.
raowtoiee* willi'am of Cloudeslee did dwell
amongst the buckes & does,
ciim of the Clim of the Cloughe & Adam Bell
Clough, and . . .
Adam Beii. 12 killed venison with their bowes.
J hv i oll y throuffhe the wood these Iollye bowmen went,
bowmen ° ^ '
huntc,1 > both ouer hill & dale, & dale & dale,
vp & downe, vpp & downe,
1 6 through many a parke & pale :U:$:
1 ? MS. makers may be altered to in the MS.— F.
matters.— F. 3 Thero is a tag to the d. — F.
8 The first two lines are written as one
IN OLDE TIMES PASTE.
121
The Maydens on the holydayes
did countrey carrolls singe,
& some did passe the time away
20 with dancinge flbr the ringc.
yea 20 groates was mony then
wold make men make good cheere,
& 20 nobles gentlemen
24 might hue on all the yeere.
William of Cloudeslee did dwell, &c.
the maidens
sang carols
and danced,
20 groats
would make
a feast,
Then were there playes att whitsonty de, l
& sommer games about ;
then ffreind wi'th ffreind wold goe & ryde
28 to driue the sommer out ;
& after merry somrner time,
then winter time came in ;
then were as merry matters done
32 when Christmas did begin. 2
William, &c.
and summer
games were
played.
Winter was
merry
at Christmas
too.
Then did they chant itt merrilye
w/th hunting in the wood,
wherin they hound[s] mad such a crye
3G as did the hearers good ;
the hunters with their hunting homes
did cause the woods to ringe :
to see them pricke amongst the thornes,
40 itt weere pastime ffor a kinge.
William, &c.
Then was it
merry too in
woods
with cry of
hounds
and hunteis'
horns.
Sir Lancelott dulake, a-dew !
thou was a worthy Knight ;
& eke maid Marryan sure & trew,
44 good Robin Hoods delight.
But now !
farewell
Lancelot
and Marian,
1 Soo Strutt and "Brand on the Whit-
son-ales &c. Strutt quotes Sir Brvis:
Iu soiuor at Whitsontyde,
When kni^htos most on horsebacke
ride, &c. — F.
2 MS. begim.— P.
122
Clowdeslee,
Clim and
Adam.
The world
changed.
Pleasure
tinned to
spite.
48
52
IN OLDE TIMES PASTE.
will/am of Cloudeslee, ffarewell,
with thy companyons old,
Clim of the Clough, & Adam Bell,
three bowemen braue & bold ! l
for now the world is altered quite,
as itt had neuer beene ;
for plesure now is turned to spite ;
the like was neuer seene.
Men are
misers ;
the rich
don't hunt,
men don't
shoot.
Sure, the
old time
was best.
May God
send us
good bow-
men again !
More sparinge for a pennye nowe
then then was for a pound ;
rich men, alas, they know not how
56 to keepe ne hawke nor hound,
all merriments are quite fforgott,
& bowes are laid aside ;
all is to litle now, god wott,
CO to maintaine wordlye pryde.
where I began, there will I end,
the old time sure was best ;
vnless that misers quicklye mend,
64 old mirth may take his rest.
pray wee then good bowmen may rise,
as hath beene here to-ffore,
to-ffore, to-ffore,
68 to maintaine, to Maintaine,
& make our mirth the more,
the more, the more. ffillis.
1 Should " William, &c," be repeated
here, and the next, four lines belong to
the next stanza? Or are four lines
wanting after 1. 52, and the last two
stanzas in reality one of sixteen lines,
counting the repeats to-ffore, the more
with the lines preceding them? — Skeat.
123
JDailtfstome Cell: 1 r^^]
This song was printed by Percy in bis Reliques, ii. 343, with
Bishop Corbet's " Noble Ffestus," from the Folio, p. 447, and
four other mad songs to make up half a dozen "selected out of
a much larger quantity." Percy says : " It is worth attention that
the English have more songs and ballads on the subject of mad-
ness than any of their neighbours. Whether it is that we are
more liable to this calamity than other nations, or whether our
native gloominess hath peculiarly recommended subjects of this
cast to our writers, the fact is incontestible, as any one may be
satisfied, who will compare the printed collections of French,
Italian Songs, &c. with those in our language." Mr. Payne Collier
considers that the madness was shammed, and that the cause of
it was the desire of the idle and dissolute beggars — who swarmed
DO
over the country on the dissolution of the monasteries — to excite
their hearers' pity and get alms. They were called Bedlam
Beggars , and are mentioned by Edgar in " King Lear " :
The country gives mc proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Stick in their nurab'd and mortify'd bare arms
pricks, noils, sprigs of rosemary;
And, with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pi liin ! . shi , p-cotes, and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayer,
Inforce their charity.
In Dekker's Bell/mam of London, 1616, till the different species of
;ars are enumerated. Amongst the rest are mentioned Tom of
Bedlam's band of mad caps, otherwise called Poor Tom's floek of wild
. . and those wild geese, or hair brains, are called Abraham men.
An Abraham man is afterwards described in this manner: " Of all
1 Thai common old song of Mad-tom. Collated with a copy in a 12° collection of
Bongs printed by Boreman, 17 ; jo. 1'.
124 DARKESOME CELL.
the mad rascals (that are of this wing), the Abraham man is the
most fantastick. The fellow (quoth this old Lady of the Lake unto
me), that sate half naked (at table to-day) from the girdle upward,
is the best Abraham man that ever came to my house, and the
notablest villain : he swears he hath been in Bedlam, and will talk
frantickly of purpose : you see pins stuck in sundry places of his
naked flesh, especially in his arms, which pain he gladly puts himself
to (being indeed no torment at all, his skin is either so dead with
some foul disease, or so hardened with weather, only to make you
believe he is out of his wits) : he calls himself by the name of Poor
Tom, and coming near anybody, cries out, Poor Tom is a cold. . . .
(Mr. Payne Collier's note to Dodsley's Collection of Old Plays, ii. 4,
quoted in Chappell's Popular Music, i. 334-5.)
Mr. Chappell prints the tune of the song, which is to be
played majestically, but cannot settle who is the author of it:
certainly not Purcell or Henry Lawes ; possibly Lawes's master,
John Cooper, called " Cuperario " after his visit to Italy. Mr.
Chappell continues :
There is an equal uncertainty about the authorship of the words.
In Walton's Angler, 1653, Piscator says, " I'll promise you I'll sing a
song that was lately made at my request by Mr. William Basse, one
that made the choice songs of The Hunter in his career, and Tom of
Bedlam, and many others of note." There are, however, so many
Toms of Bedlam, that it is impossible to determine from this passage
to which of them Isaak Walton refers. — F.
From hell ^ FORTH : ffrom my sadd & darksome 1 cell,
JfomJback ffrom 2 the deepe abisse of hell,
madd Tom is come into 3 the world againe
4 to see if hee can ease 4 his distempered braine.
ffeare & dispayre pursue 5 my soule !
Se FnSea harke how the angry ffuryes howle !
Pluto laughes, proserepine 6 is gladd
8 to see poore naked Tom of Bedlam madd.
1 dark and dismal.— P. 5 Fears and cares oppress &c— P.
2 Or from.— P. There is a flourish like an s to the e of
3 to view. — P. '' cure. — P. pursue. — F. G & Proserp™-. — P.
DARKESOME CELL.
125
12
16
20
24
through woods ' I wander night and day
to seeke 2 my stragling sences ;
In an angrye mood I ffound out time 3
with his Pentarchye 4 of tenses.
when mee he spyes, away hce fflyes ;
time 5 will stay ffor no man ;
In vaine with cryes hee rends 6 the skyes,
pitty 7 is not common.
Cold & comfortlesse I lye. 8
helpe, 9 oh helpe ! or else I dye.
harke ! I heerc Appolloes teeme,
the Carman 'gins to whistle ;
Chast Dyana bends her browe, 10
11 the bore begins to bristle.
Come, vulcan, with tooles & with takells, 12
& knocke of my troublesome shakells !
bid Charles make ready his waine
to ffeitch my fiiue sences
13
againe.
he wanders
about,
seeking his
senses.
He lies
comfortless.
Last night I heard the dogstar barke,
28 Mars mett venus in the darke ;
Limping vulcan heates 14 an Iron barr,
& ffuxyouslye runs 15 att the god of warr.
Mars with his weapons 16 layd about,
32 but vulcans temples had 17 they gout,
ifor his broad homes did hang soe in I8 his light
that hee cold not see to aime arright. 19
Vulcan
knocks off
his
shackles !
He hears the
dogstar
bark ;
he sees
Vulcan and
Mars fight,
1 the world. —P.
* find.— P.
8 I met old Time.— P.
1 pentateuch. — P.
5 Fur time. — P.
6 I rend, qu. — P. I rent. — Bel.
7 Tor pity. — P.
• I be.— P.
■Help, help&c— P.
"' bowe.— P.
" And.— P.
12 tackle, qu. — P.
13 Cp. "Bless thy five wits." King Lear,
iii. 4.— Dyce. To bring me my senses &c.
—P.
'•* heat.— P. het.— Bel.
15 made. — P. IS weapon. — P.
17 limping V: had got. — P.
1H his broad horns did so hang in. — P.
19 aim bis blows aright. — P.
126
DARKESOME CELL.
ami
Bacchus
burst with
Mercurye, the nimble post of keauen,
36 stayd to see this quarrell. 1
gorreld-bellyed Bacchus, gyant-like
bestryds a strong beere barrell :
drinking
beer.
Poor Tom is
very dry.
Give him
drink.
to me he dranke, [I did him thanke,
40 but I cold gett noe Cyder ;
hee dranke] 2 whole butts till hee burst his gutts ;
but mine were neere the wyder.
poore naked Tom is verry 3 clrye ;
44 a litle drinke, if or charity e !
He hears
Action's
hounds.
hearke ! I heare Acteons hounds. 4
the huntsmen woopp and hallowe ;
Bingwood, Boyster, 5 Bowman, Iowler,
48 all the chase doe ffollowe.
The man in
the moon
wants a cup
of sack.
the man in the moone drinkes Clarrett,
eates pouthered 6 beeffe, turnipp & Carrett
7 a cup of old Maligo 8 sacke
52 will ffire the bush att his backe.
ffinis.
1 Stood still ... the q 1 . —P.
2 The words included in these
brackets are omitted in the printed
copies. — P.
3 Pore torn is very. — P.
4 home. — lv !.
5 Rock-wood, Jowler, Bowman. — P.
6 salted. See Babees Book Index. — f
7 hut.— P.
8 of nialaga. — P.
12\
iHarfte more ffoole:
More here is probably a corruption of Morio (a word con-
nected with the Greek ficopos), " homo," says Facciolati, " qui
naturali stoliditate et stultitia risum excitat." " Quidam," says
Augustine in his 26th epistle, "tantge sunt fatuitatis ut non
multum a pecoribus differant; quos moriones vulgo vocant."
^Vith. regard to its use here of the cap-and-belled fool of the
sixteenth century, compare the following epigram of Martial
(viii. 13) :
Morio dictus erat ; viginti millibus emi ;
Redde mihi nummos, Gargiliane ; sapit.
which may be roughly rendered :
I bought Tom Fool for twenty thousand pence.
Return my money, dealer ; he has sense.
The court of the Tudors, or the first Stuarts, in whose time
probably the following piece was written, was seldom without its
Fool. From Will Somers to Archie Armstrong the succession is
continuous. Who was the individual whose acuteness is here
celebrated, we cannot precisely state.
We have not seen any other copy of the piece.
10 : passe the time there as l 1 went,
a history there I chanced 2 to reede ;
when as Salamon raigned K/7/7, When
Solomon
4 he did many a worthie deede, was King
1 whereas.— P. * MS. changed. — F.
128
MARKE MORE FOOLE.
it was
felony not
to restore to
the owner
goods found.
& many statutes hee caused to be made ;
& this was one l amongst the rest plaine, 2
" itt was ffelomy to any one that found ought was
lost,
& wold not restore itt to the owner againe."
A merchant
lost his
purse with
100/. in it,
and offered
20/. for its
restoration.
Soe then there was a rich Merchant,
as be rode to a markett towne,
itt was his chance to lose his pursse ;
12 he said there was in itt a 100\'.
a proclamation he caused to be made,
" whosoeuer cold find the same againe,
sbold giue itt him againe without all doubt,
16 & bee shold have ffor 20" his paine."
A poor man
finds the
purse,
but doesn't
understand
the gold.
Soe then there was a silly poore man [page 407 ]
bad 2 sheepes pells vpon his backe to sell,
& going to the Markett towne
20 hee ffound the pursse, & liked itt well ;
hee tooke itt vp into his hand,
& needs see what was in it hee wold ;
but the same he cold not vnderstand ;
24 ffor why, there was nothing in it but gold.
The mer-
chant
accuses him
of finding
the purse.
He says he
has it, and
will restore
it for the -201.
The rich man hee pursued him soone, 3
"thou horeson villaine," quoth he then,
" I thinke itt is thou that has found my pursse,
28 & wilt thou not giue itt me againe ? "
" good Sir," sayd hee, " I ffound such a pursse ;
the truth ffull soone itt shall be knowne ;
you shall haue itt againe, its neuer the worse,
32 but pay me my safteye 4 that is mine owne."
1 MS. ome.— F.
2 among them plain. — P.
3 eftsoon. — P.
* I don't find this word elsewhere in
the same sense. — P.
MAEKE MORE FOOLE.
129
he had 120?.
in his purse,
" Let me see wliats in the pursse," said the Merchant; The mer-
chant says
" Found thou a 100 1 . 1 and no more ?
thou horeson villaine ! thou hast paid thy-selfe ;
36 for in my pursse was ffull sixe score.
itts best my pursse to me thou restore,
or before the Kim/ thou shalt be brought." andhe'ii
, take the
"I warrant," umith lice, "when I come the Kvnq poor man
^ before the
before, King.
40 heele not reward me againe with nought."
Then they Ledd him towards the Kinge,
& as they led him on the way,
& there mett him a gallant Kmght,
44 & with him was his Ladye gay.
With tugging & lugging this pore man,
his lether sekins J began to cracke ;
the gelding was wanton they Ladye rode on,
48 & threw her downe beside his backe.
On their
road to the
King,
a knight
and his lady
meet them.
The poor
man's sheep-
skins crack,
the lady's
gelding
throws her
Then to the earth shee gott a thawacke ;
no hurt in the world the pore man did meane ;
to the ground hee cast the Ladye there ;
52 on a stubb shee dang out one of her eyen.
the Knight wold needs vpon 2 him haue beene.
" nay," sayd the Merchant, " I pray you, Sir,
stay ;
I haue a actyon against him alreadye ;
56 he slialbe 3 brought to the King, & hangd this
day."
Then they Ledd him towards the Kmg,
but the poreman liked not their Leading well ;
& coming neere to the sea side,
6(> be thought to bo drowned or saue him selfe.
on to a stub,
and puts out
one of her
eyes.
The knight
wants to
punish the
poor man.
He is afraid,
and to save
ins. — P.
2 Cp. our "I'll be down upon you."
VOL. III.
3 There is a b followed by a letter
1 'lotted out, after be. — F.
130
MAItKE MORE FOOLE.
himself
leaps into
the sea,
that is, on
two fisher-
men,
and breaks
one's neck.
64
& as hee lope into the sea,
no harme to no man he did wott,
but there hee light vpon 2 ffisher-men ;
w-ith the leape he broke one of their neckes in a
boate.
The other
wants to be
down on the
poor man
for this.
They go
before the
King.
The mer-
chant says
he lost a
purse
of 120?.
and the
poor man
won't give
it up except
for 20?.
The knight
says the man
made his
lady lose one
of her eyes.
And the
fisher
says the
man broke
his brother's
neck.
The other wold needs vpon him haue beene.
" nay," said the Merchant, " I pray thee now stay ;
we haue 2 actyons against him alreadye ;
68 he shalbe carry ed to the 'King & hangd this day."
then they Led him bound before the King,
where he sate in a gallerye gay.
"my Leege," said the Marchant, " wee haue brought
such a villane
72 as came not before you this many a day.
" ffor itt was my chance to loose my pursse,
& in itt there was ffull sixe score * ;
& now the villaine will not giue itt me againe
76 except that hee had 20'.' more."
" I kut 2 I have a worsse mache then that," sayd the
Knight,
" for I know not what the villaine did meane ;
he caused my gelding to cast my Ladye ;
80 on a stubb shee hath dang out one of her eyen."
" But I Lave the worst match of all," sayd the ffisher,
" ffor I may sighe & say god wott :
hee lope att mee & my brother vpon the seas ;
84 with the leape he hath broken my brothers neck
in a bote."
the King hee turned him round about,
being well aduised of euery thinge :
Qwoth he, "neuer since I can remember,
88 came 3 such matterrs since I was Kinge. 3 "
' pounds six score. — P.
2 ? MS. hut. Cut, say. Hall.— F.
3 before a king. — P.
MARKE MORE FOOLE. 131
Then Marke More, ffoole, beinge by, Marke, the
fool «isks
"how now, Brother Solomon ?" then q?(.oth hee, soiomonto
let him
" gine yon will not giue iudgment of these 3 matters, judge these
CtlUSGS.
92 I pray you returne them * ore to mee."
"with all my hart," quoth. Salomon to him, Solomon
agrees
" take you the iudgment of them as yett ; gladly.
ffor neuer came matters me before,
96 /I 'it ffainer of I wold be quitt."
"Well," q^oth Marke, "wee haue these 3 men [ P age408]
heere,
& euery one hath put vp a bill ; g Marke
, , i • j i i calls on the
but, pore man, come hitlier to me, p00 r man
100 lets heare what tale thou canst tell for thy selfe." answers,
"why, my Lore?," qwoth hee, "as touching this He says
"Themer-
Mercnant, chant
as he rode to a markett towne
itt was his chance to loose his pursse ; lost his woi.
purse,
104 he said there was in itt a 100"
" A proclamatyon he caused to be made, and offered
' whosoeuer cold find the same againe plaine,
shold giue itt him againe without all doubt,
108 & hee shold haue 20 1 ' ffor his paine.' 20/. reward
& itt was my chance to fiind that pursse, i°found it,
& gladlye to him I wold itt restore ; offer it him,
but now hee wold reward mee with nothinge,
112 but Challengheth 2 in his pursse 20V more." and he asks
me for 201.
" Hast thou any wittnesse of that ? " said my hord
Marke ;
" I pray thee, fellow, tell me round."
" yes, my Lord, heres his owne man His own
m 1 Ti is
116 thai c;iiryed the Message ffrom towne to towne." witness!"
1 you turn them. — P. 2 The heth in the MS. appears crossed out. — F.
k2
132
MARKE MORE FOOLE.
The mer-
chant's man
says that's
true.
" Then,"
said Marke,
" the poor
man shall
keep this
purse,
and you
shall follow
him till you
find
another."
the man was called before thern all,
& said itt was a 100" plaine,
& that his master wold giue 20V
120 to any wold giue him his pursse againe.
"I had fforgotten 20! 1 ," said the Merchant,
" gine me leaue ffor my selfe to say."
"nay," said Marke, "thou Chalengeth 1 more then
thine owne ;
124 therfore with the pore fell owe the pursse shall
stay.
& this shall bee my iudgment straight :
thou shalt ffollow eche day by the heeles playne
till thou haue ffound such another pursse with him,
128 & then keepe itt thy selfe, & neere giue itt him
againe.
" I'd sooner
give him 20/.
than do
that," says
the mer-
chant.
" Pay the
money then,
and go."
" As to the
knight,"
says the
poor man,
" he and the
merchant
made
my skins
rattle,
" Marry, ouer gods fforbott," said the Merchant,
" that euer soe badd shold be my share !
how shokl I ffind a 100'; of him
132 that hath not a 100 pence to loose 2 ?
rather He giue him 20 1 . 1 more,
& with that hee hath, lett him stay." 3
" Marry, render vs downe the money," said Marke,
136 " soe may thou chance goe quietlye away."
" ifellow ! how hinderedst thou the Knight ?
thou must make him amends here, I meane ;
itts against Law & right ;
140 his Ladye, shee hath lost one of her eyen."
" why, my hord, as they ledd me towards the King,
for ffeare lest I shold loose my trattle, 4
these lether skins you see mee bringe,
144 with tugging and lugging began to rattle."
1 Fr. chalanger, to claime, challenge, — P.
make title vnto. Cotgrave. — F. * For trattle, Halliwoll gives to prattle
2 spare. — P. or talk idly : for trattlis, the clung of
* And what he hath let with him stay. sheep, hares, &c, — F.
MARKE MORE FOOLE.
133
i * » The gelding was wanton the Lady rode vpon,-
no hurt in the world, nry Lord, I did meane, —
to the ground he cast that Ladye there,
148 & on a stub shee dang out one of her eyen."
" ffellow," quoth Marke, " hast 2 thy wiffe 2 eyes ?
I pray thee," quoth hee, " tell me then."
" yes, my Lore?, a good honest pore woman,
152 that for her liuinge takes great paine."
frightened
the lady's
horse,
and he threw
her on a
stub."
" Has your
wife two
eyes ? "
" Yes."
" Why then, this shalbe my iudgment straight,
tho thou perhapps may thinke itt strange :
thy wiffe with 2 eyes, his Ladye hath but one,
156 as thou hast drest her, with him thoust change."
" marry ouer gods flforbott," then sayd the Knight,
" that euer soe badd shold be my shame ;
I had rather giue him a 100'*
160 then to be trobled with his dunish 3 dame."
" Then the
knight
shall change
wives."
" I'd sooner
give him
100?." says
the knight.
" Pay down
your money
and go."
IC„s
" Marry ! tender vs downe the mony," said Marke,
" soe may thou be gone within a while."
but the ffisher ffor feare he shold have beene called, The fisher-
man is
he ran away a quarter of a mile. alarmed,
J l and runs off,
" I pray you call him againe," qwoth Marke,
" giffe hee bee within sight ;
for neuer came matter me before,
but euerye man shold hauc his right."
but is called
back,
They called the ffisher backe againe :
"bow now, fellow ? why didst not stay ? "
"my Lo/v/," quoth hee, " I hauc a great way home, and makes
& fiaine I wold be gone my way."
excuses
' (Margined note by the writer of the
M8). This verse Bhold come in att
this * mark aboue [which is where it
now is — F.]
- hath.— P.
3 ? dunny, deaf, stupid. Halliwell. — F.
134
MARKE MORE FOOLE.
" As to the
fisherman,"
says the poor
man,
" to save
myself, I
leapt into
the sea,
but came on
his brother,
and broke
his neck."
" Then,"
says Marke,
" this
fisherman
shall put his
boat in the
same spot,
and jump on
you."
" but, ffellow, how hinderedst thou this ffisher ?
I pray thee," quoth. Marke, "to vs tell."
"my hord, as I came neere the sea syde,
176 I thought either to be drowned or saue my selfe.
" And as I lope into the sea, —
no harnie to no mann I did wott, —
there I light vpon this ffishers brother ;
180 w-ith a leape I broke his necke in a boate."
"ffisher," quoth Marke, " knowest thou where the
boate stood ?
thoust sett her againe in the selfe same steade,
& thoust leape att him as he did att thy brother,
184 & soe thou may quitt thy brothers cleede. 1 "
li And break
my neck, or
be drowned,"
says the
fisherman :
"I'd rather
give him
20/."
" Pay down
the money,
and go
then."
The poor
man takes
all the
money, and
say b he
doesn't care
how often
he's brought
before the
King.
The other
three say
they'll never
come again
while
Marke's
there.
" Marry, gods fforbott," then sayd the ffisher [page 409]
" that euer soe badd shold be my lucke !
If I leape att him as he did att my brother,
188 1st either be drowned or breake my necke ;
rather He giue him 2 Of :
& I wold, my Lord, I had neere come hither."
" Marry, tender vs downe the money," said Marke,
192 "& you shalbe packinge all 3 together."
The pore man he was well content,
& verry well pleased of euerye thinge ;
he sayd he wold neere take great care
196 how oft hee came before the Kinge.
these other 3 cold neuer agree,
but euery one ffell out with other,
& sayd they wold neere come more to the Kmgr
200 while hee was in companye with marke his
brother.
1 d.ad.— P. death.— F.
135
Though men in early days made the ballads as well as the laws
of the nation, they were more just to women in the one than
the other. Against the Marquis lifting Grisilde from her father's
cottage to his own throne, they set the Lady's love for her Squyer
of Lowe Degree, and against King Cophetua, Lord Arundel's
fair heiress with her Thomas Potts. If " Lady Clara Vere de
Vere " had been written centuries ago, we may be sure that some
male predecessor of Elizabeth Barrett Browning would have
answered it with " A Poet's Wooing," suited to the time. In-
deed, we may go further, and say, that as minstrels sang more for
knights, who held the purse, than ladies fair, the stooping of a
high-born heiress to a fighting lord of lowly birth was a more
frequent topic in old ballads and romances than the taking by a
noble of a lowborn bride. Serving-man might be squire, squire
be knight, and knight an earl : to any and all, the highest lady
in the land was a possible prize, were a strong right hand and a
stout heart the possession of him who dared to try for her. And
in the present ballad the writer has boldly faced the bathos, if
any there were, in name as well as in fact, for he has married
Lord Arundel's daughter to Thomas Potts.
In the middle of the sixteenth century Hewe Eodes counsels
his Wayting-Servant :
For your promoeyon resort to such as ye may lake avauwtage,
Ami tylme« for rewardes, to gentylwomew for marriage.
Se your >y be imlyfferent, amonge womeD that be fayre,
I t. 11 i hem storyes of lone, and so to you they wyll repayre;
Suche pastymes somtymi doth many men auaunce
In ua\ ofmaryage, and your good Dame it wylenhaunce:
and no doubt in earlier days good-looking young serving-men
1 Shewing how be won Lord Arundel's Vol. i. p. 189, 12° iutitled The Lover's
Daughter from Lord Phoenix, being only Quarrel or CupicPs Triumph, — P.
a serving Man. Jn Pepys' Merrim?,
136 THOMAS OP POTTE.
had an eye to their mistresses' hands and fortunes, besides being
honestly, desperately in love with them. We have seen, in The
Lord of Leame (i. 190-8), how the young shepherd-boy was
taken by the Duke of France's daughter into her service, and
how she fell in love with him, and married him ; we know how
in William of Palerne (or William and the Werwolf) the
Emperor's daughter Melior loves, and must love, her gens et tres
biax young serving-man, though he is only a cowherd's foundling,
and though she tries to school her heart, saying :
what ? fy ! schold i a fundeling ' for his fairenesse tak ?
nay, my wille wol nou3t a-sent â– to my wicked hert.
wel kud kinges & kaysers â– krauen me i-now ;
I nel leie mi loue so low â– now at J>is time;
desparaged were i disgisili â– 311 i dede in bis wise ;
I wol breke out fram bat barot ' & blame my hert.
and with the immense advantage that continual access to a young
mistress's presence gave a man when kettle and other drums had
not been invented to bring suitors, and tournaments and feasts
came rarely, we may well believe that Thomas Pottses did some-
times secure their ladies, notwithstanding " the great gulf fixed
between churl and noble " on which Mr. Hales has remarked in
Glasgerion, vol. i. p. 248. We can hardly suppose the subject a
popular one among highborn dames ; and without the fact's actual
happening, I doubt whether it would have been chosen for a
ballad theme. Grant that it did occasionally happen, and then
the balladist would not refuse to sing the constancy of a love that
glorified all on whom it shone — as well a Thomas Potts as a
banished Earl. Anything less like a hero coming to fight for his
love it would be difficult to conceive than the canny Potts as he
rode from his Scotch home on his old dock-tailed white horse.
This is how he chose his charger, when offered his master's best :
theres an old horsse, — for him you doe giffe I be out of my saddle cast,
not care, — they beene soe wild thcyle neuer be
this day wold sett my Lady ffree, tane againe.
that is a white, with a cutt tayle, lett me haue age sober & wise ;
ffull 16 yeeres of age is heo. . . itt is a purrt of wisdome, you know
Master, those [better young'] horsses ittplaine;
beene wild and wicked, if I bo out of my sadlo cast ,
& litle they can skill of the old traine ; heele either stand .still or turne againe.
THOMAS OF POTTE.
137
Still, though Potts is unhorsed and wounded, and has to rely
on his white steed's wisdom, Potts has pluck, and gives Lord
Phenix so much of fighting that he wants no more. And his
Lordship, being convinced that Lady Eozamond prefers Potts to
him, generously promises her that she shall have her Potts, and
if her father will not endow them, he will :
Up send ffor thy father, the. Lord of Arrundale,
& marry ed together I will you see.
giffe hee will [not] maintains you well,
both gold and Land you shall haue from me.
Need we say that the Lady, his true-love, turns Thomas a Pott's
name into "The Lord of Arrundale," and exhorts all her maids
& Ladyes of England, faire & ffree,
looke you neuer change jour old louo for no new,
nor neuer change for no pouertye. — F.
12
16
20
ALL : you Lords of Scottland ffaire,
& ladyes alsoe bright of blee ;
there is a ladye amongst them all,
of her report you shall heare of me.
of her bewtye shee is soe bright,
& of her colour soe bright of blee ;
shee is daughter to the Lord Arrndell,
his heyre apparraut ffor to bee.
" Ee see that bryde," ~Lord Phenix sayes,
" tltnt is a Ladye of bye degree,
& iff I like her countenance well,
the heyre of all my Land sheest bee."
to that Ladye ffayre Lord Phenix came,
& to that Like-some dame said hee,
" now god thee saue, my Ladye ffaire !
the heyre of all my Land thost bee."
"Leaue of jour suite," the Ladye sayd,
" you are a Lord of honor ffree,
you may gett Ladyes enowe att home,
& I haue ;i lone in mine ownc countrye.
Lords and
Ladies of
Scotland,
I'll tell you
of a fair
Lad}',
Lord
Arundel's
heir.
Lord Phenix
offers to
marry her.
She tells
him that
she lias a
lover,
138
THOMAS OF POTTE.
a serving-
man,
Thomas a
Pott.
Lord Phenix
says he
has 40?. to
Thomas's 3?.
" I haue a loner true of mine l owne,
a servinge man of a small degree ;
he is the ffirst lone that ener I had,
24 & the last that hee shalbee :
Thomas a Pott, itt is his name."
" gine Thomas a Pott then he his name,
I wott I ken him soe readilye ;
28 I can spend 40'.' by weeke,
& hee cannott spend pounds 3."
The Lady
says she'll
stick to
Thomas.
" god giue you good of yo«r gold," said the Ladye,
" and alsoe, Sir, of jour ffee !
32 hee was the ffirst loue that euer I had,
& the Last, Sir, shall hee hee."
Lord Phenix
tells her
father,
and he says
she shan't
have his
land
unless she
marries
Lord
Phenix.
So she is
forced to be
his bride.
With that Lord Phenix was sore amoued ;
vnto her ffather then went hee ;
36 hee told her ffather how itt was proued,
how that his daughters mind was sett.
" thou art my daughter," the Erie of Arrndell said,
" the heyre of all my Land to bee ;
40 thoust be bryde to the Lord Phenix,
daughter, giue thoule be heyre to mee."
for lacke of her loue this Ladye must Lose,
her foolish wooing lay all aside ;
44 the day is appoynted, 2 & ffreinds are agreede,
shee is fforcte to be the hord Phenix bryde.
But she
means
to beguile
him.
with that the Lady began to muse —
a greeued woman, god wott, was shee —
48 how shee might hord Phenix beguile,
& scape vnmarryed ffrom him that day.
1 MS. nine.— F.
2 There is a mark like an undottcd
in the MS. before they. — F.
THOMAS OF POTTE.
139
52
shee called to her her litle ffoote page ;
to Iacke her boy, soe tenderlye
sayes, " come thou hither, thou litle ffoote page,
for indeed I dare trust none but thee.
She tells her
page, Jack,
" to Strawberry castle, boy, thou must goe,
to Thomas Pott there as hee can bee,
50 & giue him here this Letter ffaire,
& on guilford greene bidd him meete me.
" looke thou marke his contenance well,
& his colour tell to mee ;
60 & hye thee ffast, and come againe,
& 40 shillings I will giue thee.
to take a
letter to
Thomas,
" for if he blush in his fface,
then in his hart heese * sorry bee.
64 Then lett my ffather say what hee will,
for false to Potts He neuer bee.
[page 410]
and if he
blushes,
then he'll
be sorry,
and she'll be
true to him ;
" & giue hee smile then wt'th his mouth,
then in his heart heele merry be ;
68 then may hee gett him a loue where-euer he can,
for small of his companye my part shalbe."
if he smiles,
then she'll
give him up.
then one while that the boy hee went,
another while, god wott, rann hee ;
72 & when hee came to strawberry castle,
there Thomas Potts hee see ;
The boy
goes to
Thomas,
76
then he gaue him this letter ffaire.
& when he began then for to reade,
tiny 2 boy had told him by word of mouth
' his loue must be the Lord Phenix bryde.
gives him
the letter,
and tells
him his
love must
marry Lord
Phenix.
1 beese, i.e. he will be, or must be. — P.
'-' the.— P.
140
THOMAS OF POTTE.
Thomas
blushes,
weeps,
cannot read
the letter,
80
with that, Thomas a Pott began to blushe
the teares trickeled in his eye :
" indeed this letter I cannot 1 reede,
nor neuer a word to see or spye ;
but bids the
boy tell his
Lady
" I pray thee, boy, to me thonle be trew,
& heers 5 marke I will gine thee ;
84 & all these words thou must pursue,
& tell thy Lady this ffroni mee :
that Lord
Phenix
shall not
marry her ;
" tell her by ffaith & troth shee is mine owne,
by some part of promise, & soe itts be found,
88 hord Phenix shall neuer marry her by night nor day
without he can winn her with his hand.
he'll lose his
life to stop
it.
" on Gilford greene I will her meete,
& bidd that Ladye ffor mee pray ;
92 for there He Loose my liffe soe sweete
or else the wedding I will stay."
The boy goes
back.
The Lady
meets him,
then backe againe the boy he went
as ffast againe as he cold hye.
96 the Ladye mett him 5 mile on the way :
" why hast thou stayd soe long ? " saies shee.
100
" boy," said the Ladye, " thou art but younge ;
to please my mind thoule mocke and scorne ;
I will not beleeue thee on word of mouth
vnlesse on this booke thou wilt be sworne."
and he tells
her
how Thomas
cried.
104
" marry, by this booke," the boy can say,
" as Christ himselfe be true to mee,
Thomas Pott cold not his letter reade
for teares trickling in his eye."
1 MS. camot.— F.
108
THOMAS OF POTTE.
" if this be true," the Ladye sayd,
" thou Bonny boy, thou tells to mee,
40? I did thee promise,
but heeres 10" He giue itt thee.
" all my maids," the Lady sayd,
" that this day doe waite on mee,
112 wee will ffall downe vpon our knees,
for Thomas Pott now pray will wee.
" if his ffortune be now ffor to winn, 1
wee will pray to christ in Trinytye ;
116 lie make him the mower of all his kinn,
ffor they 2 ~Lord of Arrundale he shalbe."
now lett vs leaue talking of this Ladye faire,
in her prayer good where shee can bee ;
120 & He tell you hou Thomas Pott
for ayd to his LorcZ & master came hee.
& when hee came Loro" Iockye before,
he kneeled him low downe on his knee ;
124 saies, " thou art welcome Thomas Pott !
thou art allwayes full of thy curtesye.
" has thou slaine any of thy ffellowes,
or hast thou wrought me some villanye ? "
128 " S/r, none of my ffellowes I haue slaine,
nor I haue wrought you noe villanye ;
" but I haue a loue in Scottland ffaire,
I doubt I must lose her through pouertye ; 3
132 if you will not beleeue me by word of mouth,
behold the letter shee writt vnto mee."
141
The Lady
gives him
10?.,
says she and
her maids
will pray for
Thomas,
and she'll
make him
Lord
Arundel.
Thomas
goes to his
Lord,
Jockye,
n ii*l trllsliim
that he is
like to
lose his lovo
through his
poverty.
' MS. wim.- F.
2 the.— P.
3 The next stanza 1ml one is written
in the MS. between lines 131, 132, but
marked bya bracket, and by Percy, to go
in its proper place. — F.
142
THOMAS OF POTTE.
Lord Jockye
says
" Tou shan't
lose her :
you shall
have
gold and
silver,
136
when ~Lord Iockye looked the letter vpon,
the tender words in itt cold bee :
" Thomas Pott, take thon no care,
thoust nener loose her throughe pouertye.
" thou shalt have 40 1 . 1 a weeke,
in gold & siluer thou shalt rowe, 1
140 & Harbye towne I will thee all owe
as longe as thou dost meane to wooe
40 men,
and 40 horse,
and I'll go
with you."
" thou shalt haue 40'? e of thy ffellowes ffaire,
& 40 horsse to goe with thee,
144 & 40 speares of the best I haue,
& I my-selfe in thy companye. 2 "
Thomas
declines the
offer.
"I thanke you, Master," sayd Thomas Pott,
" neither man nor boy shall goe with niee ;
148 I wold not ffor a 1000V [page4ii]
take one man in my companye."
Lord Jockye
advises him
152
" why then, god be with thee, Thomas Pott !
thou art well knowen & proued for a man ;
Looke thou shedd no guiltlesse bloode,
nor neuer confound no gentlman ;
to fix a place
to fight his
rival,
and he'll
provide for
him.
Thomas goes
to
Lord Phenix
and Lady
Eosamond,
" but looke thou take with him some truce,
apoint a place of lybertye ;
156 lett him provide as well as hee cann,
& as well provided thou shalt bee."
& when Thomas Pott came to Gilford greene,
& walked there a litle beside,
160 then was hee ware of the Lord Phenix,
& with him Ladye Rozamund his bryde.
1 row, i.e. roll. Soo Gloss, ad G.
Douglas. So Page 21-20. Thretty lang
twelf monthis rowing over, i.e. rolling
over. — P.
2 Only half the n in the MS.— F.
THOMAS OF POTTE.
143
164
away by the bryde rode Thomas of Pott,
but noe word to her tliat he did say ;
but when he came ~Lord Phenix before,
he gaue him the right time of the day.
" thou art welcome, Thorn as a Potts !
thou serving man, welcome to mee !
168 how ffares they Lord & Master att home,
& all the Ladyes in thy cuntrye ? "
and gives
Lord Phenix
the time
o' day.
Lord riienix
asks
how
Thomas's
master is.
" Sir, my LorcZ & my Master is in verry good health ; "Very well
I wott I ken itt soe readylye.
172 I pray you, will you ryde to one outsyde, 1
a word or towe to talke with mee."
"you are a Nobleman," sayd Thomas a Potts,
" yee are a borne Lore? in Scottland ffree ;
176 you may gett Ladyes enowe att home ;
you shall neuer take my loue ffrom mee ! "
" away, away, thou Thomas a Potts !
thou seruing man, stand thou a- side !
180 I wott theres not a serving man this day,
I know, can hinder mee of my bryde."
But let me
have a word
with you.
You are a
Lord,
and can get
ladies at
home.
You shan't
have my
love.
" If I be but a seruing man," sayd Thomas,
" & you are a Lord of honor ffree,
184 a speare or 2 lie w/th you runn,
before lie loose her thus cowardlye."
I'll fight you
for her."
"on Gilford fn-cene," liorcl Yhenix saies, "lie thee Lord Phenix
° accepts the
meete ;
neither man nor boy shall come hither w/th mee."
188 " & as I am a man," said Thomas a Pott,
" He haue as ffew in my companye."
fight ;
' i.e. on uiie side : the expression is still used in Northamptonshire. — P.
144
TnOMAS OF POTTE.
and the
wedding is
put off.
Rosamond
is glad,
192
With that the wedding-day was stayd,
the bryde went vnmarryed home againe
then to her maydens ffast shee loughe,
& in her hart shee was ffull ffaine.
and says
she'll
pray for
Thomas,
and if he
wins,
will make
him Lord
Arundel.
" but all my mayds," they Ladye sayd,
" that this day doe waite on mee,
196 wee will ffall downe againe vpon our knees,
for Thomas a Potts now pray will wee.
" if his ffortune be ffor to winn, —
weele pray to Christ in Trynitye, —
200 He make him the mower of all his kinn,
for the Lore? of Arrundale he shalbe."
[The Second Part.]
Thomas goes
home again,
and falls
sick.
204
2'\ parte <
208
"now let vs leaue talking of this Lady fayre,
in her prayers good where shee can bee ;
He tell you the troth how Thomas a Potts
for aide to his Lord againe came l hee.
& when he came to strawberry castle,
to try ffor his Ladye he had but one weeke ;
alacke, ffor sorrow hee cannott fforbeare,
for 4 clayes then he ffell sicke.
Lord Jockye
asks whether
he has got his
love.
with that his Lore? & Master to him came,
sayes, " I pray thee, Thomas, tell mee without all
doubt,
212 whether hast thou gotten the bonny Ladye,
or thou man 2 gange the Ladye w/thoute."
1 MS. cane.— F.
2 maun, i.e. must. — P.
THOMAS OV rOTTE.
145
" marry, master, yett that matter is vntryde ;
within 2 dayes tryed itt must bee.
216 he is a Lord!, & I am but a seruing man :
I doubt I must loose her through pouertyc."
"why, Thomas a Pott, take thou no care ;
tboust neuer loose her through pouertye ;
" That'll be
settled in
tWO day 3,
and T shall
lose her from
poverty."
"No,
Thomas,
220 " thou shalt hauc halfe my Land a yeere,
& that will raise thee many a pound ;
before thou shalt loose thy bonny ladye,
thou shalt drop angells with him to the ground. 1
224 " & thou shalt haue 40 of thy ffellowes fi'aire,
& 40 horsses to goe with thee,
& 40 speres of the best I haue,
& I my-selfe in thy companye."
228 " I thanke you, Master," sayd Thomas a Potts,
"but of one thinge, Sir, I wold be ffaine ;
If I shold loose my bonny 2 Ladye,
how shall I increase yowr goods againe ? "
I'll lend you
half
my land,
and 40 men
and horses,
and go with,
you myself,
•232 " why, if thou winn thy Lady ffaire,
thou maye well fforth for to pay mee ;
if thou loose thy Lady, thou hast losse enoughe ;
not one penny I will aske thee."
236 " Master, you haue 'â– ><> horsses in one hold, [page412]
you keepe them ranke and royallye ;
theres an old horsse, — for him you doe not care, —
this day wold sett my Lady ffiree,
240 " that is a white, with a cutt fcayle,
Hull 16 yceres of age is hee ;
giffe you wold lend me thai old horsse,
then I shold gett her easilye."
and never
ask for a
return if you
lose."
"If you'll
lend nie your
old docked
horse, that's
all 1 want."
1 Cp. BessieoffBedna.il, vol ii. p. 284, 1. 104-24.— F.
VOL. III. L
MS. bomy.— F.
146
THOMAS OF POTTE.
" Don't be
foolish,
Thomas ;
have a
better
horse."
244 "thou takes a ffoolish part," the honl lockye saycl,
" & a ffoolish part thou takes on thee ;
thou shalt haue a better the[n] euer he was,
that 40" cost more nor bee."
" None of
your wild
animals for
me ; 1 want
248 " Master, those horsses beene wild and wicked,
& litle they can skill of the old traine ;
giffe I he out of my saddle cast,
they beene soe wild theyle neuer be tane againe.
a sober one,
that if I'm
thrown will
stand still."
252 " lett me haue age sober & wise ;
itt is a part of wisdome, you know itt plaine ;
if I be out of my sadle cast,
heele either stand still or turne aQ-aine."
" Take the
old horse
then, and
100 men."
256 " thou shalt haue that horsse with all my hart,
& my cote plate of siluer ffree,
& a 100? men att thy backe
for to fight if neede shalbee."
" No," says
Thomas,
" neither
man nor boy,
260 " I thauke you, Master," said Thomas a Potts,
" neither man nor boy shall goe with mee.
as you are a Lord off honor borne,
let none of my ffellowes know this of mee ;
keep 'em all
back."
At Gilford
Green
Thomas finds
Lord Phenix
and men,
264 " ffor if they wott of my goinge,
I wott behind me they will not bee ;
without you keepe them vnder a locke,
vppon that green e I shall them see."
268 & when Thomas came to Gilford greene
& walked there some houres 3 ;
then was he ware of the Jjord Phenix,
and 4 men in his companye.
272 "you haue broken jour vow," sayd Thomas a Pott,
" yoitv vowe that you made vnto mee;
you said you wold come jour selfe alone,
& you haue brought more then 2 or o."
THOMAS OF POTTK.
147
276
280
''these are nay waiting men," Lord Phenix sayd,
" that euery day doe waite on mee ;
giffe any of these shold art vs stirr,
my speare sliold runn throwe his bodye."
" He runn noe race," said Thomas Potts,
" till that this othe heere made may bee :
1 if the one of vs be slaine,
the other fforgiuen that hee may bee.' '
init they are
only his
waiting
men,
284
and he vows
"He make a vow," Lord Phenix sayes,
" my men shall beare wittnesse with thee,
giffe thou slay mee att this time,
neuer the worsse beloued in Scottland thou shalt Thomas
bee."
they shall
not hurt
288 then they turned their horsses round about,
to run ! the race more egarlye.
Lord Phenix he was stiffe & stout,
he has runn Thomas quite thorrow the thye,
292 & beere Thomas out of his saddle ffaire ;
vpon the ground there did hee lye.
he saies, " for my liffe I doe not care,
but ffor the loue of my Ladye.
296 '• but shall I lose my Ladye ffaire ?
I thought shee shold haue beene my wiffe ;
I pray thee, Lord Phenix, ryde not away,
for with thee I will loose my Liffe."
300 then a Thomas a Potts was a seruing man,
he was alsoe a Phisityan good ;
he clapt his hand vpon his wound ;
svith some kind of words he stauncht the blood. 3
Theycharge,
and Lord
Phenix
runs Thomas
through the
thigh, and
grounds
him.
Thomas says
he'llfight on.
He
staunches
his wound,
1 MS. rum. !•'.
- Though.— P.
3 The notes to Brand's Popular Anti-
quities, ii. 167, ed. 1841, give (from the
Athenian Oracle, i. 158) this charm to
Htop bleeding at the nose and ;ill other
haemorrhages :
In the blood of Adam, Sin was taken,
In the blond of Christ it was all to-
shaken.
And by the same blood I do thee charge,
That tile blood of [Thomas Potts] rim no
longer at large. — F.
L 2
148
THOMAS OF POTTE.
charges Lord
Phenix,
runs him
through the
«rm,
304 then into his sadle againe hee leepe,
the blood in his body began to warme ;
he mist hord Phenix bodye there,
but he run him quite throw thebrawne of the arrne,
unhorses
him,
and says
" fight on,
or give up
my Lady."
Lord Phenix
says he can't
fight,
308 & he bore him quite out of his saddle ffaire,
vpon the ground there did he lye ;
he said, " I pray thee, hord Phenix, rise & flight,
or else yeeld this Ladye sweete to mee."
312 "to ffight with thee,"q-woth Phenix, "I cannott stand;
nor ffor to flight, I cannott, sure ;
thou hast run me through the brawne of the arme ;
noe longer of thy spere I cannott endure,
and he'll give
up the Lady.
316 " thoust haue that Ladye with all my hart,
sith itt was like neuer better to proue ;
nor neuer a noble man this day
that will seeke to take a pore mans loue."
[page 413]
Then
Thomas
320 " Why then, be of good cheere," saies Thomas Pott,
" indeed, your bucher He neuer bee,
for lie come & stanche jour bloode,
giff any thankes youle giue to mee."
staunches
Lord
Phenix's
wound,
and offers
him another
chance :
324 as he was stanching 1 the Phenix blood,
these words Thomas a Pott cann to him proue, 2
" He neuer take a Ladye of you thus,
but here He giue you another choice :
to let
Rosamond
stand
between
them and
take which
she likes.
328 " heere is a lane of 2 miles longe ;
att either end sett wee will bee ;
the Ladye shall sitt vs between e,
& soe will wee sett this Ladye ffree."
1 MS. stamching. — F.
praie.
-F.
THOMAS OF POTTE.
149
332 " if thoule doe soe," Lord Phenix sayes,
" Thomas a Pott, as tliou dost tell mee ;
whether I gett lier or goe without her,
heeres 40'.' lie giue itt tliee."
336 & when the Ladye there can stand,
a womans mind that day to proue ;
" now, by my ffaith," said this Ladye ffaire,
"this day Thomas a Pott shall haue his owne loue."
340 toward Thomas a Pott the Lady sliee went,
to leape behind him hastilye ;
" nay, abyde a while," sayd hord Phenix,
" ffor better yett proned thou shalt bee :
344 " thou shalt stay heere w/th all thy maids, —
in number wtth thee thou hast but 3, —
Thomas a Pott & lie goe beyond yonder wall,
there the one of vs shall dye."
348 & when they came beyond the wall,
the one wold not the other nye ;
Lord* Phenix he had giuen his word
with Thomas a Pott neuer to flight.
352 " giue me a Choice," hord Phenix sayes,
" Thomas a Pott, I doe pray thee ;
lett mee goe to yonder Ladye ffaire
to see whether shee be true to thee."
356 & when hee came that Ladye too,
vnto that likcsome dame sayd hee,
" now god thee saue, thou Ladye ffaire,
the heyre of all my Land thoust bee !
360 " ffor this Thomas a Potts I haue Blaine.
lie hath more then deadlye wounds 2 or 3 ;
thou art mine ownc Ladye," he sayd,
" & marryed together wee will bee."
Lord Phenix
accepts this
and gives
Thomas 40/.
Rosamond
chooses
Thomas,
and is going
to him,
when Lord
Phenix tells
her to stop,
while
Thomas
and he fight
to the death.
TTe asks
Thomas
to let him
prove her.
He goes to
her, tells her
he has killed
Thouuis,
and she is
now his.
150
THOMAS OF POTTE.
Rosamond
says she'll
have him
hanged,
and then
swoons.
Lord Phenix
undeceives
her, says
Thomas is
alive.
and shall
marry her.
Lord
Arundel
consents too.
So Maids
and Ladies
all, don't
change an
old love
for a new
or a rich one.
Thomas a
Pott shall
be Lord
Arundel.
364 the Ladye said, " if Thomas a Potts this day thou
haue slaine,
thou hast slaine a better man than euer was thee ;
& He sell all the state of my Lande,
but thoust be hanged on a gallow tree."
368 with, that they Lady shee ffell in a soone,
a greeued woman, I wott, was shee :
Lore? Phenix hee was readye there,
tooke her in his armes most hastilye ;
372 " hord, sweete, 1 & stand on thy ffeete !
this day Thomas a Pott aliue can bee ;
He send ffor thy father, the Loro" of Arrundale,
& marryed together I will you see.
376 giffe hee will you 2 main tain e you well,
both gold and Land you shall haue from me."
" He see that wedding," my hord of Arrundale said,
" of my daughters loue that is soe ffaire ;
380 & sith itt will no better be,
of all my Land Thomas a Pott shall be my heyre."
" now all my maids," the Ladye said,
" & Ladyes of England, faire & ffree,
384 looke you neuer change yo«r old loue for no new,
nor neuer change for no pouertye ;
" ffor I had a louer true of mine owne, 3
a seruing man of a small degree ;
388 ffrom Thomas a Pott He turne his name,
& the hord of Arrundale hee shall bee."
(finis.
1 ( ) Lady sweete. — Dyce.
2 fur not. V.
3 MS. owme.-l'.
151
TOfllfam tl)f ConqtieromV
The copy of this ballad in Strange Histories, 1607, and Chappell's
Popular Music,i. 94, is entitled "The valiant courage and policy
of the Kentishmen with long tails whereby they kept their
ancient laws and customs which William the Conquerour sought
to take from them — to the tune of Rogero." " It was written by
Deloney the ballading silk-weaver," who died in or before 1600.
Evans, who prints this ballad from another copy ( The Garland of
Delight) extracts the following account of the event which gave
rise to it, from The Lives of the three Norman Kings of England,
by Sir John Heyward, 4to, 1613, p. 97: "Further, by the counsel
of Stigand, Archbishop of Canterbury, and of Eglesine, Abbot of
St. Augustine's (who at that time were the chief governors of
Kent), as the King was riding towards Dover, at Swanscombe,
two miles from Gravesend, the Kentishmen came towards him
armed, and bearing: boughs in their hands as if it had been a
moving wood : they enclosed him upon the sudden, and with a
firm countenance, but words well tempered with modesty and
respect, they demanded of him the use of their ancient liberties
and laws : that in other matters they would yield obedience unto
him : that without this they desired not to live. The king was
content to strike sail to the storm, and to give them a vain satis-
faction for the present ; knowing right well that the general
customs and laws of the residue of the realm would in short
1 This seems modern by it's elegance. The Garland of Delight. Eyans prints
The story of the Kentish-Men's pre- this ballad from the latter, but the for-
Berving their liberties, 1066 Anno. Col- mer is a better authority. As Percy
lat'il with a Copy in Popys's Collection says 'Strange Histories or Garland,'
of Penny MerrimV, Vol. 3. p. 39. B. L. both here and inhisfirst note to the next
In y t Strange Histi ries or Garland of poem, 1 think he may have seen some
Delight. To the Tune of Rogero.- P. copy made up of the two Garlands.
Strange Historiesie a dill' rent book from W. C.
152
WILLIAM THE C0NQUER0UR.
time overflow these particular places. So pledges being given
on both sides, they conducted him to Rochester, and yielded up
the county of Kent and the castle of Dover into his power."
(Chappell, Pop. Mus.i. 94.)
When
William
conquered
England,
he was
crowned by
the Arch-
bishop of
York ;
punished his
opponents,
WHEN william duke of normandye [page4U]
with glitering l speare & sheild
had entered into 2 ffaire England,
4 & told 3 his ffoes in ffeild,
vpon christmas day, in soleme 4 sort,
then was hee crowned heere
by Albert, Archbishopp of yorke,
8 & many a noble peere.
which being done, he changed quite
the customes of England,''
& punished 6 such as daylye sought
12 his statutes to w/thstand.
and subdued
London,
but Kent
withstood
him.
& many cytyes hee subdued,
ffaire London with the rest,
but 7 then Kent did still withstand his power, 8
16 & did his lawes detest.
He went to
Dover to
destroy the
castle,
20
to douer then he tooke the 9 way,
the castle downe for 10 to flinge
which Aueragus had * ! builded there,
the noble Brittaine 12 Kino-e.
hut theArch-
bishop of
Canterbury,
the Abbot of
St. Austin's,
24
but when 13 the braue Archbishopp bold
of Canterbury knew,
the Abbott of S) Austines eke,
with all their gallant crew,
1 glistering. — P.
2 There's a w seemingly before the/.
F.
1 solemn.- I'.
3 foil'd.— P.
5 of this Land.— P.
6 punisht. — P.
8 force. — P.
10 Del.— P.
is British.— P.
7 del.— P.
9 his.— P.
" del.- P.
13 which when.
WILLIAM THE CONQUEROUR.
153
the l sett themselues in order 2 bright,
these mischeefes to preuent,
w/th all the yeomen braue & bold
28 that Avere in ffruitfull Kent.
and the
Kent Lsb
yeomen
att Canterbury they did 3 meete
A'pon one certaine day,
4 with sword, with sheild, with bill, with bow,
32 to stopp 5 the conquerours Avay.
met at
Canterbury,
" 6 let vs not liue like bondmen pore
to ffrenchmen in their pryde,
but lett vs 7 keepe our ancyent lybertyes,
36 what chance soeuer tyde 8 !
and resolved
" & rather lett vs 9 dye in bloody ffeild,
with manly courage prest,
then to endure the seruile yoke
40 Av/a'ch wee thus much 10 detest ! "
rot to
submit.
thus did the Kentish Commons crye
vnto their leaders still,
& then they marched 1 1 in AA'arlike sort,
44 & stood att SAA T ansco 12 hill.
They
marched to
Swanscomb
Hill,
& ATider a Avood 13 they hidd themselues,
vnder tin \ shadow greene,
wherby H to gett them vantage good
48 of all their ffoes vnseene. 15
hid in a
wood ,
they.— P.
armour. — P.
did they.— P.
sword & speur .
Ami Stopt.— P.
yeild like.— P.
del.— P.
so e'er betyde.—
del.— P.
& how.— P.
p.
10 so much. — P.
11 Ami so march! forth. — P.
'- Swanscomb. — P.
13 There in the woods. — P.
' Therby.— P.
'â– '' .And for y e conqt 8 coming there
They privily laid wait,
Ami therby suddenly appal'd
his lofty high conceit. — P.
154
WILLIAM THE 00NQULI50UR.
ami on
William's
approach
inarched out,
each carry-
ing a bough.
& when ' the spyed his approchc
in place where they did stand,
they marched fforth to liemm him in ;
52 eche man tooke - a boAv in his hande.
William sees
a wood
moving
towards
him,
3 before, behind, & on eche syde
as hee did cast his eyes, 4
he espyed these woods 5 in sober pace
56 approach to him ffhll nye.
and quakes
for fear.
The shape of men he cold not see,
the bowes did hyde them soe ;
& how 6 his hart did quake for feare
60 to see a fforrest goe !
The Kentish
men hem
him in,
draw their
swords,
throw down
their boughs,
but when the Kentish men had thus
enclosed the Conquerour round,
then suddenly they drew their swords,
64 & threw their bouges to ground ;
sound a
charge,
and deploy.
their banners they displayed 7 in sight,
their trumpetts sounded 8 a charge,
the rattling drummes strike vp alarme, 9
68 their troopes streitch fforth to the Large, 10
William is
aghast,
11 wheratt this dreadfull Conquerour
theratt was sore agazed, 12
& most in perill when he thought 13
72 all prills had beene past.
For when as they did. — P.
del. tooke. — P.
Percy marks to come in here :
So that up to the conquerors sight
Amazed as he stood
They soem'd to he a walking grove
Or else a moving wood. — 1\
eye.— P.
spyed the wood with, — P.
6 now with fear did quake. — P.
7 display.— P.
8 sounde. — P.
9 Their .... alarms. — P.
10 out at large. — P.
11 The conqf with all his train
Were hereat sore aghast. — P.
12 aghast or agast. — P.
18 they thought.— P.
WILLIAM tiii: COXOrKROI'tt.
155
1 therfore vnto the Kentishmen
an Embassadoure he sent,
to know they 2 cause they tooke in band
7G these warres, to what entent. 1
and send-
to ask what
the Kc-uti-.lt
men want.
80
to whom they made this short reply, "Our
liberties,
"ffor liberty weele ffip/ht, 3 and King
And to enioy King Edwards the Confessors 4 Lawes [page 41s]
w7</ch wee doe hold arrisht. 5 " law?."
"why 6 then," said the dreadfull Conquerour,
"you shall haue what you will ;
jour liberty es, yoiir ancyent customes, 7
84 soe that you wilbe still ;
William
agrees to
" & eche thing else which you will craue
with reason att my hands,
soe that you will acknowledge me
88 cheefe "King of ffaire England."
give them
all they ask,
the Kentishmen therevpon agreed, 8
& layd all 9 their armes asyde ;
& by this meanes King Edwards lawes
92 doe still in kent 10 abyde.
and the
Kentish men
lay down
their arms.
96
& in no place in England else
such customes n doe remaine,
as they by their manlike ,2 policye
did of duke william gaine.
ffinis.
Thus Kent
alone keeps
its old
customs.
1-1 Unto the Kentishmen he sent
The cause to understand
For \vh?t intent & for what cause
They took this war in hand.— P.
2 the.— P. :| we fight.— P.
1 del.— P.
' our right. — P.
u del. why. -P.
7 Yowr ancient customs & your laws.
— P. See note at the end of the volume.
- F.
H agreed thereon. — P.
■' delend all— P.
10 In Kent doo still.— P.
" t hose Customs. — P.
12 Which they by manly. — P.
156
CIk t ffiurinnfttg of Setters t&e t i : ftte Cln'Itirm : l
"This," says Percy, "as well as the foregoing, is an excellent
ballad." To us it seems the song of a very pedestrian Muse.
The subject is excellent. It is preserved also in Strange
Histories.
When
Henry I. had
subdued the
French,
W HEN : as royall Kmg 2 henery the ffirst
had ffoyled his ffoes in ffrance,
& spent the pl[e]asant springe
4 his honors 3 to adnance.
he came
back to
England,
then into England he returned 4
wrth flame & victorye,
what t[i]me the suhiects of this Land
8 receiued him ioyfullye.
but left his
children in
France, —
but att his home returne,
his children left hee still
in ifrance, ffor to soiourne
12 to purchase learned skill.
Duke
William,
Lord
Kichard,
Duke william with his brother dere,
~Lord Richard was his name,
who was the Erie of Chester then,
16 w[ho] 5 thirsted after flame ;
1 a.d. 1120. To the tune of The
Ladies Daughter. This, as well as the
foregoing, is an excellent ballad. Collated
with a copy in Strange Histories or The
Garland of Delight, 12"?°, Canto 3 d , B.
L., in Pepys Collection of Penny Mer-
rim**, vol. 3. p. 14— P.
2 After our royl king. — P.
3 honour. — P.
4 Into fair England he return'd.
5 and thirsted.— P.
THE DROWNING OF IIENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN.
157
20
the ~Kivgs ffaire daughter eke,
the Lady Many bright,
with diners noble peeres,
& many a Lardy Knight ;
Lady
Mary,—
with peers
and knights.
all these he left l together there,
in pleasure 2 and delight,
when that our ~King to England came
24 after the bloody e flight.
but when ffaire fflora had
drawen fforth her treasure drye,
then winter sadd and cold 3
28 with hoarye head drew niee. 4
When
summer was
over,
and winter
came on,
then these princes all with one assent 5
prepared all things meete
to passe the seas into 6 fl'aire England,
32 whose sight to them was sweete.
the princes
" to England lett vs hye,"
this euerye one did say,
" ffor Christamas draweth nye ;
36 no longer lett vs stay,
wanted to
spend
Christmas in
England,
but let vs 7 spend the Merry Christamas time 8
in game and pleasant sort, 1 '
where Lady pleasure doth attend
40 w/th many a princely sport."
and enjoy
themselves.
1 were left. — P.
2 pleasures. — P.
s cold and sad. — P.
* nigh.— P.
5 Those princes all.
cons[ent], — P.
•> for.— P.
» \Ict vs] del.— P.
8 MS. tine.— F.
u within our Father's court.
158 THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN.
They set sail, to seas ' these princes went,
full ffraught 2 with mirth & ioy ;
but all their merryment 3
44 returned to greet 4 anoye.
but the
Bailors got
drunk,
for the say lor s & the shipmen, 5
throughe ffoule excesse of wine,
they were soe amazed that 6 on the sea
48 they showed themselues like swine.
no one could
steer,
and the ship
went at
random.
The princes
weep
and fear,
but at last
see England
the sterne 7 no man cold guide,
the ~M.aster sleeping Lay,
the saylors all beSyde
52 went reeling euerye way,
soe that the shipp att randome rode
vpon the ffbminge filoode,
wherby in pcrill of their hues
56 these princes 8 alway stoode,
which, caused distilling 9 teares
from their faire eyes to ffall,
their harts were filled w/th ffeare, 10
60 No Ioy u they had att all, [page4i6]
the wished themselues vpon the land
1000 times and more ;
then att they last 12 they come in sight
64 of Englands pleasant shore.
1 To sea.— P.
That y telle an evel lype,
Mori that cloth him into shypc
Whil the weder is wod ;
For, he ho come to the depe.
He may wrynge hard ant wepe,
Ant be of drery mod.
' Ofte rap reweth ; '
Quoth Hendyng.
Religuice Antigua, i. 115. — F,
- Kulfill'd.— P.
3 this their merrim^ — P.
4 did turn, to dear. — P.
5 The sailors .... Shipmen all. — P.
were so disguis'd that. — P.
7 A.-S. steor-ern, the steering-place,
the stern. — F.
s The princes. — P.
9 which made distilling. — P.
10 fears.— P.
no
helpe.— P,
'- And at the last.— P
THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN.
159
then euery one began
to turne these siges ' to smiles,
their coulours 2 pale and wan
68 a cheerfull looke Exiles.
and smile.
the princelye Lords most louihglye
their Ladycs doe embrace ;
3 " In england," quoth they "wee shalbe
72 within a litle space." 3
Lords
embrace
their ladies,
"take comforts to jour selues,"
thus euerye one did say,
" & be no more dismay d ;
76 behold the Land att Last ! " 4
aud all take
comfort.
5 but as they did thus cheerfullye
their comfort to attaine,
then soddainlye vpon a rocke
80 the shipp itt burst in twayne. 5
But at that
moment
the ship
strikes, and
breaks in
two.
w/th that a greiuous scrike G
among them there was made,
& euery one did seeke
84 on something to be stayd.
Every one
seeks a
support,
but all in vaine ! such helpe the lacke. 7
the shipp soe soone did sinke
Unit in the seas 8 they were constrained
88 to take their latest drinke.
but all are
whelmed,
1 their sighes.- P.
2 colour P.
3 — s For now in England shall we be
Quoth thoy in little space.— P.
4 then they said
Behold the Land at last
Then l.o &e.
The worst is gone & past. — P.
s—5 -\yhji,. fi lrv ( [j,i this joyful hope
With comfort entertains
The goodly ship upon a rock
In sunder hurst in twaine. — P.
,; shriek.— P.
7 they sought. —P.
8 sea.- P.
160
THE DROWNING OF HENERY THE I. HIS CHILDREN.
notwith-
standing
their efforts,
92
there might you see the Lords
and Ladyes ffor to lye
amidst the salt sea ffome,
w/th many a greiuous crye
still laboured for their Hues l defence
with streched armes abroad,
& lifting vpp their Lilly hands
96 for helpe w/th one accordd.
except Buke
Richard,
who gets
into the
cockboat ;
but he turns
to rescue his
sister,
but as good ffortune wold,
the sweete young duke did gett
into the Cockebotte then,
100 where safelye he did sitt.
but when he heard his si[s]ter 2 crye,
the Kings faire daughter deere,
he turned his boate to take her in
104 whose death did draw soe neere ;
others crowd
into the
boat,
and all arc
drowned.
but while he turned his boate
to take his sister in, 3
the rest such shifft did make
108 in seas as they did swimn,
for to 4 the boate a number gott,
soe many att the Last, 5
that the boate & all thai was 6 theiin
112 was drowned & ouer cast.
of Lords & gentlemen,
& ladyes ffaire of fface,
not one escaped then ;
116 this was 7 a heauinesse !
1 labouring .... life's. — P.]
2 sister.— P.
â– he strove to take
His sweet yoting sister in. — P.
4 That to.— P.
4 as at the last.— P.
6 The boat .... were.
7 Which was.— P.
THE DROWNING OF IIENEIIY THE I. HIS CHILDREN.
161
CO t5 i e and ten l were drowned in all,
not one escaped death,
but one pore bucher, who had swoome
1 20 himselfe quite out of breath.
w7Mch was 2 most heauy newes
vnto our comlye Kinge ;
all mirth hee did refuse, 3
124 this word when he did 4 bringe,
70 perish.
One, a
butcher,
alone
escapes.
The King is
sad at the
news,
and refuses
all mirth.
128
where by 5 this meanes no child wee 6 had
his Kingdome to succeede.
7 his sisters sonne was crowned K.inge,
as wee may plainly reede. 7
ffinis.
No child
succeeds him
but his
nephew.
1 Thre Score & ten.— P.
2 This was.— P.
3 Who did all mirth refuse. — P.
4 they did.— P.
5 For.— P.
6 he.— P.
"Whereby his sister's Son was king,
As you shall plainly read. — P.
VOL. III.
162
iWurtfirn'ntj: of Oftitoarti tin ffottrtl; I) is stottnt** 1
Tins ballad differs very slightly from that published in the 1659
edition of The Crown Garland of Golden Roses (reprinted by
the Percy Society, ed. Mr. Chappell), and reprinted from that
work in Evans' Old Ballads, iii. 38. The piece is there intituled
" An excellent soug* made of the successors of King Edward the
Fourth, to the tune of man in desperation." It contains
three stanzas more than the present version, one after v. 8, one
after v. 28, one after v. 126. Else the differences are merely
verbal.
The ballad is evidently the production of a professional hand.
It tells its story in a business-like manner, with no great ex-
citement either of the imagination or the feelings. Pegasus here
appears as a sort of cab-horse. His driver awaited on his " stand "
any call that might be made for him. Poor Pegasus, well broken
to harness, jogged steadily away in the required direction, when
the call came, — to the Tower, it might be, or to Bosworth Field,
or to Swanscombe. His pace seldom varied. His caracolling
and flying days were past and gone. He did his work in a
sober plodding style, not without an occasional thought of the
" feed " that might reward his efforts.
There is another ballad on this same subject — and of no
greater merit — in the 1612 edition of the Croivn Garland, also
reprinted by Evans.
" The greater proportion of the ballads are historical," says
Mr. Chappell in his Preface to the Percy Society reprint of
1 This is but of moderate excellence, Song on this Subject, but very different
tho' written so late as James the l'.'s from this, in the printed Collection, 12 m .°,
Time. See Stan" 31,32. There is a Vol. ii. p. 100.— P.
3IUKT1IE1UNG OF EDWAKL) THE FOUKTH HIS SONNES.
163
the 1612 edition, "and from early times down to the end of the
seventeenth century the common people knew history chiefly
from ballads. Aubrey mentions that his nurse could repeat the
History of England from the Conquest down to the time of
Charles I. in ballads." Could any nurses of the present day
perform such a feat ?
WHEN : as the King of England dyed,
Edward the fourth by name,
he left 2 sonnes of tender yeeres
4 for to succeed the same.
When
Edward IT.
died
he left two
young sous.
then Richard, duke of Glouster,
desiring Kingly sway,
desired l by treason how to make
8 his brothers sonnes away.
Glo'ster and
Buckingham
plot to kill
them,
betwixt them they Layd downe their plott, 2
& straight together went
to Stony Stratford, where they mett
12 the 'King incontinent.
[page 417]
and meet the
young King
at Stony
Stratford.
the sweete young King did entertaine
his vnckle Louinglye, 3
not thinkinge of their 4 vile intent,
16 nor of their 6 trecherye.
& then the duke of Buek[i]ngham,
to sett abroach this thinge,
he began a quarrcll for the noncte
20 w'tli them that kept the Kinge.
Buckingham
P.
1 contrived. — V.
* Then he & Buckingham did plot. —
3 Lines 13, 11 are written before 1. 11
in the MS., but are marked at the sido
witli a bracket. — F.
1 Ins.- P.
* his.— P.
m 2
1G4
MERTHERING, OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES.
arrests Lord
Gray,
Lord Rivers,
24
& then they did arrest Lord Gray,
the Brother to the Queene ;
her other brother, the hord Riuers,
in durance as they had beene.
and Sir T.
Vaughau,
the King's
friends,
Sir Thomas Vaughan then Likewise x
did there and then 2 arrest ;
soe was the ~King of all his ffreinds
28 suddenly dispossest.
and has
tliilli put to
death.
in breeffe, these Noblemen were sent
to Pontfracte Castle soone,
where the, [in] 3 short time afterwards,
32 to death was eche man doone.
Glo'ster and
Buckingham
take the
King to
London,
then forth they brought they K.mg alone,
towards London with great speed,
vsing their perswasions full ffalselye 4
36 not to Mislike that deede.
and lodge
him in the
Bishop's
Palace.
Glo'ster
names
himself
Protector,
& when to London that they came,
ffor him they had prepared
the Bishopps pallace ffor the nonet,
40 but saflye vnder guard.
& then duke RiCHartZ takes vpon him
the keeping of the King,
naming himselfe Jjord protectore,
44 his wished ends to bringe ;
and the
Cardinal
48
desiring 5 how then 6 in his mind
to gett the other brothers too,
the w7«ch the Cardinall vndertooke
ffull Cuningly to doo.
in liko wise. — P.
They then and there. — P.
in.— P.
4 their false persuasions. — P.
5 Devizing. — P.
contriving, Mien how. — P.
MURTHERING OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES.
165
52
& then the Cardinall in great Last
vnto the Queene doth come ;
vsing his perswasions ffull fl'alselye,
then he gott her other sonne.
persuades
the Queen to
give up ber
other son.
then they hoth in ffull great hast
vnto the tower were sent,
where they liued but short space,
56 ffor death did them prevent.
G-lo'slerputs
them both in
the Tower,
then Duke RiCHarc?, hauing ffound this meanes
to worke these 2 princes death,
procured one of Iames Tirrelt.s hired men '
60 ffull soone to stopp their breath :
and hires
two men,
lames Dighton & Miles fforrest both,
these 2 vile wicked men, 2
these 2 were made the instruments
64 to worke this murder then.
Dighton and
Forrest,
these princes being asleepe in bedd,
lyinge arnie in arme,
not thinking of their vile entents
68 nor thinking any harme,
who, when
the princes
are asleep in
bed,
these villaincs, in the ffetherbedd
did wrapp them up in hast,
& with the clothes soe smothered them
till liffe and breath was past.
smother
I 111 •! II
with the
feather-bed.
& then they both were buryed,
where no man yet! doth know.
but marke hew god, in his iudgment iust,
did liis l-i'jht reuengmenl showe !
But God
t nki'-;
vengeance
for this.
1 -jiie s^ James. — 1*.
these vilo it m I wicked men. — P.
166
MURTHERING OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES.
Buckingham
is beheaded.
Richard
for betwixt those Dukes within short space
such a discord there was bredd,
as Buckingham to please the Km*/
80 was fforcet to loose his head.
& then Richard in his Kinglye seate
no ease nor rest cold ffind,
the murthering of his nephews did
84 so sore molest his minde.
never sleeps,
is always in
fear of his
life,
and at last
Richmond
88
he neuer cold haue quiett sleepe,
his liffe itt stood in ffeare,
his hand was on his dagger straight,
that no man might come him neere.
but att the Last Erie Richmond came
with such a puissant band,
that this ffalse King [he] was inforced
92 in his defence to stande.
[page 418]
fifrhts him
at Uos worth,
and he is
Elain,
and set
naked and
mangled on
a horse.
96
then meeting him att Bosworth ffelld, 1
they fought with harts full faine;
yett ffor shedding of these princes blood,
god caused King Richyut? to be slaine.
& being dead, vpon a horsse
all naked he was borne,
his fflesh [all 2 ] cutt & mangled,
100 his haire all rent and torne.
Richmond is
crowned
Henry VII.,
is succeeded
by Henry
VIII.,
& then Erie Richmond worthelye,
ffor this his deede of ffame,
of England hee was crowned Kmg,
104 Henery the 7* by name,
of whom most royall lines did springe,
that ffamous King of might,
Henery the 8" 1 , our 3 noble deeds
108 our chronicles doc well recyte.
1 See Bosworth Feilde below. — F.
all cut.— P.
3 whose. — P.
MUIITIIEKING OF EDWARD THE FOURTH HIS SONNES.
167
112
when that hee dyed, liee left liis Land & crowne
to Edward his sweete sonne,
whose gracyous raigne all England may rue
his time soe soone is come.
he by
Ed war 1 VI.,
& then his Sister Marye came,
next princesse of this Laud ;
but in her time blind ignorance
116 against gods truth did stand,
he by Mary
120
w7i /eh caused many a mans blood,
to be shedd in ruefull case ;
then god did England once regard, 1
& turned all these stormes to grace.
(who killed
the
martyrs),
ffor then the other sister came,
Elizabeth our Late Queene,
& shoe released her peoples harts
124 ffrom greeffe & eirrou[r]s 2 cleane.
she by
Elizabeth,
our late
Queen,
& then the 3 mightye lames did come,
of king Henerj/s royall race ;
whose happy dayes our hord preserue,
128 grant him Long time & space !
ffinis.
and she by
.Tames I.,
whom God
preserve !
1 E island ouce more (mj<1 1 1 i • 1 regard.
- errours. — P.
3 MS. die [blollnlj the.— F.
168
€l)t : ;fali : of : prfitttD*:] 1
The transitoriness of the glory of this life was a thing that our
early writers were much impressed with, a theme on which they
often wrote.
a, ! man hab mtmde
bat of }>is lif \>er commit ende :
of erbe and axen z is ure kunde,
and in-to duste we schullib wende :
was the burden of many a sermon and song. As one of the
former preaches (Phil. Soc. Trans. 1858, Pt. ii. p. 2) to its non-
washing hearers of former days, why should men be proud or
expect to live ?
Man ! of H schuldres and of Jn side
}>ou mi3to hunti luse and flee !
of such a park i ne hold no pride ;
be dere nis naii3te bat bou mi3te sle.
What is the "gentil man " but a sack stuffed full of dirt and
dung that stinketh loathly and is black? When once the soul
is out of his body, a viler carrion is there none. And,
bei} man bo rich of lond and lede,
and holdib festis ofte and lome,
hit nis no doute he sal be dede,
to 3elde recning at be dome.
Worldly weal comes and goes, is but deceit, dirt, guile, and
vanity ; man's life is but a shadow ; now he is, and now he is not.
Death spares none. Beware then of " helle pine/'
Why, asks another, 3
Win is bis worlde biloucd bat fals is & veyn ?
Its power passes away like a brittle pot that is fresh and gay. It
1 N.B. This songshowM seem to have z ashes. — F.
been wrote soon after fko Death of 8 Hymns to the Virgin and Christ,
Henry 8. Vid. St. ult.— P. E. E. T. Soc, p. 86, 1867.— F.
THE FALL OF PRINCES. 169
is full of sin, false in its business, false in its pleasures : unstable
as water, it cannot excel :
It is rabir to bileoue the wageringe wijnde
ban \>e chaungeable world bat makij> men so blinde.
Solomon, Sampson, Absalom, Duke Jonatas, Caasar, the Eich
Man of the Gospels, Tullius, Aristotle :
Where ben beso worbi bat were hoere to-forn ?
Bobe kingis & bischopis? her power is al lorn.
Lydgate translated his Falles of Princes from Boccaccio to
point the same moral, and few Early English religious poems can
be found without it, " J?at worldli blis is but a ]nng of vanite."
(Hymns to Virgin, p. 81, 1. 85-6.) The writer of the present
poem preaches a like sermon, that life is short and none can
resist Death's mace. If all the heroes of the world could not do
so, how can we ? They have died, and we must all follow them as
fast as we may. But the name of his last hero sounds odd to
our ears, though it justifies the impression that Mr. Fronde says
the king made on his contemporaries : he was evidently to them
the " Solomon in all his glory " of his age :
if wisdom or manhood by any meanes cold
haue saned a mans liffe to endure for ever,
then King llenery the 8'. h soe noble and soe bold,
out of this wyde world he wold haue passed neuer.
Though the climax is to us an anti-climax, it is useful as a sign
of the times.
T
1HE : hyc god most gracyous, his l goodcnesse alone, God, after
thou hast 2 made vpon the earth, beast, bird and tree, bcalsts'birds,
Angells in heauen, & ministers to thy throne,
the sun & the moone, the Elcinrnl it skye. angels,
sun, :mtl
att Last thou made [man] of 3 noblest degree, moon,
niter thine owne likenesse, such was thy grace. made man.
Lawde wee him fcherffore, for happy wee bee ;
But heere wee beene sure to Hue but a space.
1 whose.— P. '-' Hath.— P. 3 madest man of.— P.
170
THE FALL OF P1UNCES.
But where
are Adam
and Eve ?
Dead. And
we can live
but a space.
Where are
David,
Samson,
Hercules,
and Duke
Joshua ?
Their glorj's
gone,
a id we don't
live here
long.
Where are
Alexander,
Nebuchad-
nezzar,
Augustus,
Hannibal ?
[page 419]
All dead, and
we must
follow them.
Where are
Hector,
Rowland,
and Oliver ?
Where is Adam our mrot progenitor,
of 1 bewtye & of coning, & 2 neuer had no peere ?
& Eue his companion, that most oryent ffigure ?
12 he "King, & shee Queene, ouer all this world in ffere ;
yet through their great ffalls soone changed we all our
cheer [e,]
that all their posterytye shold ffollow their trace ;
death hath them deuoured, this matter is clere ;
1G but 3 heere wee beene sure to hue but a space.
Where is "King David the doughtye, that Golyas oner-
came ?
or duke Iosua the gentle, of him what shold I tell ?
or Samson that ruled the Lyon like a lambe ?
20 or Hercules that quelled the porter of hell ?
where is duke Iosua that euer bare the bell ?
their pompe & their glory is nowe very basse. 4
lett this be a mirrour alwayes in our sight,
24 that heere we beene sure to Hue but a space.
Wliere is Alexander the mightye, that conquered this
world wide,
& gouerne att 5 one day as himselfe did luste ?
or Nabuchondozer, that prince proud of price 6 ?
28 or Augustus, with his power to them was full lust 7 ?
where is Haniball the hardy, threw all in the duste,
and brought all roome 8 into a sorry stay ?
All these be dead and gone, and after them wee must, 9
32 and wee must all ffollow as fast as wee may.
Where is Hector of Troy, that one of the 9 worthies was ?
& worthy sure he was soe for to bee ;
or Rowland & Oliuer, as itt came to passe, 10
.36 in number they were doughtye men all 3,
' for.— P.
8 that.— P.
1 base.
s govern' d it. — P.
'• full of pride. — P.
that. — P. ' that was with his power full (right)
just.— P.
s Rome. — P.
" go a ft or thorn we must. — P.
10 MS. paste.— F.
THE FALL OF PRINCES. 171
but yett with death they cold not agree
in this world to haue no Longer space,
death, all their e-lory from them he did ring, 1 Dead, as we
' ° J chilli soon
40 & wee must all follow them in a short space. be.
Where is Godfrey of Bullen, that Troian soe stout ? where are
. Godfrey,
or Mithydrates, where is hee r Mitiuidates,
or Iulyus Machabeus that went not about ?
44 or Guy of warwicke, as doughtye as hee ? Gny of
where is Huon 2 of Burdeaux, where is hee ? Huon of '
these cold not refuse death with his mace 3 ;
therfor marke my sayings all you that 4 heere bee, Dead, and we
48 for heere wee beene sure to liue but a space. here long.
Where is Iason the doughtye that woone the fleece of where arc
Jason,
gold,
or Acctollen 5 that was called the scorge of god, Attila>
or Phebus, the wisest man vpon the mould ? rhebus,
52 or Acchilles that was called the Troians rodd ? Achilles,
where is Kdnia Herod the herlott, was 6 worsse then and King
J Herod?
madcl, 7
for w/th his owne Kinsmen himselfe he did deface ?
Loe ! heere you may see, flbr all this noble 8 blood, We can live
here but a
50 that here we beene sure to liue but a space. space.
where is the Emperour that the bold clarke was Where ai
called (J ?
the Sarasins doe remember him, & shall doe for
eucr 10 ;
or Iulyus Caesar, with " head balde, Julius
go that brought Roome & the Romans to a sorry stay ? BBar '
1 wring did he. P. 7 wood. — P.
- Sir Huon.— I*. H hye.— P.
3 ? MS. mate, altered to mar.-. -F. " Was it Charlemagne (I. 77)? IK
' MS. thai vou. — F. encouraged learning. — T. Wright.
1 Antiochua.- P. lu aye.— P.
who was.— P. " with his.— P.
172
and Nero ?
Dead,
as we soon
shall be.
64
THE FALL OF PRINCES.
where is Nero- the cruell, that ruled soe many a day ?
these cold not refuse death with his mace ;
therfore marke my saying, all you that heere bee, 1
for wee beene sure to liue but a space.
Where are
Pyrrhus,
Dulcina,
Sir Volen,
Troylus,
Tarn bur-
lain ?
Remember
that we
must die.
Where is Pironius, 2 the proud enemy to Roome ?
or dulcina the terror, or Cicill the Kinge 3 ?
or Sir Yolen, was called the hardy Troian ?
68 or Troylus of Troy that loued well to springe ?
where is Tamberlaine that ouercame the Turke [in
fight],"
that all the world did bring in dread & in doubt of
his deuilish face ?
lett this be a mirrour allwayes in our sight,
72 that heere wee beene sure to liue but a space.
Where are
Arthur,
Tristram,
Gawaine,
Lancelot,
Charle-
magne 1
Dead too,
and we
cannot
live long.
Where is King Arthur the venturer, with his Knights
bold ? 5
or Sir Tristeram, that treasure of curtesy e ?
or Sir Gaw r aine the good, with, his helmett made of
gold ?
76 or Sir Lancelott dulake, a Knight of Chiualrye ?
where is King Charlemaine 6 of ffrance, from them
wold 7 neuer fflee ?
yett these cold not refuse death with his mace,
heere you may see, ffor all the hye degree,
80 that here [we 8 ] beene sure to liue but alitle 9 space.
1 hear may. — P. See Dr. Robson's
note below on leune, 1. 72 of Sir John
Butter. — F.
2 Pyrrhus. — P. I can't find Dulcina
and Volen. — F.
3 ? Robert of Sicily :
Yn Cysylle was a nobulle kynge,
Fayre and stronge, and some dele 3ynge . .
The kynge was calde kynge Roberd,
Never man in hys tyme wyste hymaferde.
HalliweU's Nuga Poetica, p. 49.
According to Froissart (translated) he
■• was a great astronomyre, and full of
great science"; and in 1529 a play,
" Kynge Eobart of Cicylye," was per-
formed at the High Cross at Chester, ib.
p. 71.— F.
4 in fight.— P.
5 The latter half of each of lines 73-7
is written in the MS. as the first half of
the line succeeding it. — F.
6 Only two strokes and the dot of the
i in the MS. for in. — F.
' Who would.— P. MS. is right.
Compare 1. 85 in the next stanza. — F.
8 wee.— P. D short.— P.
THE FALL OF FRINCES.
173
Where is ~King Richard!, was called Cwer de Lyon ?
or Saladine the good Sarazen, where is hee ?
or Edward the 3? that wan Gasconie & Gaines ' ?
84 or King Henery the 5 t . h , a prince of Chiuahye ?
where is duke Charles of Burgundye, froni them did
neuer flee ?
yett these cold not refuse death w/'th his mace ;
wherfor marke my saying, all you that here bee,
88 that here wee beene sure to Hue but a space.
Where are
Cour-de-
Lion,
Saladin,
Edward III.,
Henry V.,
Duke
Charles?
All dead.
Take heed,
then,
we shall soon
die too.
ffor if wisdome or manhood by any meanes cold
haue saued a mans liffe to endure for euer,
then King Henery the 8' h soe noble and soe bold,
92 out of this wyde world he wold haue 2 passed neuer.
but death, where he comes, all things doth disseuer ;
where- euer he aproches, he will take place,
good JjovcI ! bring vs to thy blisse, there to remaine
for euer ;
96 ffor heere we be sure to Hue but a space.
ffinis.
If manhood
could have
saved a man,
Henry VIII.
would not
have died.
But death
takes all.
God, bring us
to thy bliss !
Here we can
live not
long.
1 Guisnes. Gasconie may be Gascoine. — F.
2 Oue stroke only for u in the MS. — F.
174
Cftr mitt brotone mapti l
Tins is but a torn and tattered copy of one of the most exquisite
pieces of late Mediaeval poetry.
The oldest copy extant is that inserted by Arnold in his
Chronicle, the first edition of which appeared at Antwerp in
1502. The poem was even then, we may infer, considered old
and precious for its antiquity.
See General Introduction to Vol. II. Part I. and Introduction
to A Jigge; also Hazlitt's Early Popular Poetry, ii. 271.
l
Men com . 2 RlGHT & noe wronge, these men amonge, [pi gc420]
plam thllt ' as [on] women doe Complaiue,
affirming this, what a thing itt is
4 of a labour spent in vaine
[To love them well ; for never a dele a
They love a man agayne ;]
win towm y for lctt a man doe what he can
a woman's g ^^ ffayor tQ obtaine?
1 Prior's Poems, Vol. I. p. 160. This Copy, and several of them transpos'd.
is a very imperfect and mutilated Copy. —P. The copy below is from Richard
That printed by Prior is very correct. Hill's MS., ab. 1500-30 a.d.— F.
There are 40 or 50 lines left out of this
THE NUTBROWN MAYBE.
[From the Balliol MS. 354, marked Arch. P. 1. 6.]
1 for late a maw do what he can,
2 Be it right, or wronge, Thes [leaf -'106] ther favowre to attayn,
men a-monge yet, yf a newe to them pursue,
on wymen do cowplayn ; ther ferste trew lover than
affermyng this, how that it is labowreth for now-ght ; for from her
a labowiv spent in vayn thowght
to lovo them wellc ; for neuer a dele a i 1( , j s a banysshed man.
they love a man a-gayn :
THE NUTT BROWNE MAY1).
175
& if a new to them persue,
the ffirst true louer then
he labours for nought, — fur from his thought, —
12 for he is a banished man.
when a new
lover comes
ilic old '
is turned off.
1 And I say not nay, — but as you said,
itt is both written and sayd, —
but womens ffaith, who soe sayth,
16 [is] right vtterly decayde ;
yett neuertheles, right good wittnesse
in this cause may be Layd :
that they 2 Loue true, & doe continue,
20 reccords the nutt-browne 3 maide :
ifor when her loue came her to proue,
he come to make his moane ; a
b he sayd, " alas ! thus stands the case,
24 I am a banished maun.
But though
some say
that
â– wo'T.en's
faith is
decayed,
yet the
Nut-brown
Maid's love
continued
true.
Her lover
came to
prove her ;
said : "I am
a banished
man.
1 I say not nay, but that alle day
it is both wreten & said
that woman's feyth, Is, as who seyth,
alle vtturly decayde ;
But neuer*7«elesse, Right good witnes
In this ease myght be layde,
that they love trew, & contenewe,
Recorde the Nutbrown mayde,
which, whan her love cam her to prove,
to her to make his mone,"
wolde not departe ; for in her hart
she loved but hym alone.
Than betwen us let us disevsse
what was alle the maner
Bel wen them two : we wille also
telle alle the payn in fore
that she was in. Now I begyn,
s.i that ye me answerc;
wherfor, alb' ye that present be,
I pr«y you, geve an ere.
I am the knyght ; I com by nyght,
as secrete as I can ;
b saying, " alas ! thus stondith the eaas,
I am a banysshed man."
PTJELLA.*
And I yowr wille for to fulfille
In this wille not Refuse ;
trustyng to shew, In wordis fewe
that men have an ylle use
(To ther own shame) wymon to blame,
and cavselesse them accuse :
therfor to you I answere now,
alle wymen to excuse, —
Myn own hart derc, v,hh you what
chere ?
I p> Y( y y° u > ^Ue me a-- non ;
ffor, in my mynd, of alle mankynd
I love but you alon.
- MS. they that.— F.
3 MS. browme. — F.
* Tuella anil Squyre arc at the right sides of the MS.— F.
176
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
I've done a
deed for
which I
must die,
or flee
like an
outlaw
to the woods.
I'm a
banished
man.''
1 " ffor itt standeth soe that a deede is doe
wherby great liarrne may growe ;
my destynye is ffor to dye
28 a sliameffull death, I trowe,
or else ffor to ffiee ; the one must bee.
none other reed I know
but to withdraw my-selfe Like an outlawe,
32 & betake me to my bowe.
& therfore, adew, my owne hart trew,
they best way that I can
is that I to the greenwood goe,
36 my selfe a banished man."
The Maid
laments the
shortness of
her bliss.
But she'll
not part
from her
love.
2 " Alas ! " shee said, " what is all this worlds blisse ?
itt changeth as doth the Moone.
the summers day in the Lusty may
40 is darke before the noone.
I heare you say ffarwell. nay ! nay !
wee will not depart soe soone.
but why say you soe, or whither will you goe ?
44 alas ! what haue you done ?
SQUYEE.
1 It stondith so ; a dede is* doo
wherof gret harme shalle grow :
My destynye ys for to dye
A shamfullc deth, I trow ;
Or elk's to flee : the on mvste be.
Non other way I know,
But to wrtMraw as an owtlawe [leaf 211]
And take me to my bow.
wherfor, a-dewe, Myn own hart trew!
Non other rede I can :
ffor I mvste to The gren-wode go,
alon, a banysshed man.
PUELLA.
2 lorde ! what is this worlds blis,
that changith as the mone?
the somers day In lusty may
Is darke beffore the none.
I here you say, ffarewelle : nay, nay !
we departe not so sone.
why say ye so ? whether wille ye go ?
alas ! what hauo ye done ?
alle my welfare To sorow & care
shuld chauwge, yf ye were gon ;
ffor, in my mynde, of alle mankynd
I love but you alon.
* MS. it.— F.
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
177
for all my welfare into sorrow & care
wold come if that you were gone ;
for in my mind, of all mankind
48 I loue but you alone."
She loves but
him alone.
1 " I can but beleeue this wold you greeue,
& somewbatt you soe straine ; a
Her lover
tellu her
SQUYKE.
1 1 can bcleve, i tshaJle you greve,
and sumwhat you dystreyne ; *
but, afterward, yo«r paynes hardo
wit/'in a day or twayn
shalle sone aslake ; & ye shalle take
Conforte to you a-gayn.
why shuld you owght? for, to
thowght,
yowr labowrc were in Tayn.
and thus I doo ; and pray you to,
as hartely as I can ;
ffor I mvste to the gren-wode go,
alon, a banysshed man.
8
PI* ELLA.
Now, sith that ye haue shewed to me
the secrete of yo?<r mynde,
I shalle be playn to you a-gayn,
lyke as yo shalle me fynde.
sith it is so, that ye willc go,
I will^' not bide behynde,
slialb- it ncuer be said, the nvtbrown
mayd
was to her< Lot i vnkynde.
make miii Redy, for so am I,
aHe-thowgh it were anon ;
ffor, in [my | mynd, of alle mankynd
1 loue but you a-lon.
9
SQTTVl'K.
Yet I ymi Rede to take tro. â– . I hede
what men will' thynke & say :
.f oldc. hit shalh 1 <â– told,
t hat j i li.' i-iiii a-way,
your wanten wille tor to fulfills,
in grenwode you t < > play ;
ami ihn\ ye myght for your d< Lite
No lengar make delay,
rather than yo shuld thus for mo
be called a mysse woman,
vol. in. N
yet wold I to The grenwode go,
alon, a banysshed man.
10
PUELLA. [leaf 211 b]
Thowgh it be songe of oldo & yonge,
that I shuld be to blame,
take Thers be the charge, That speke so large
In hurtyng of my name :
ffor I willc prove, That feythfulle love
hit is deuyoyed of shame ;
In yowr distresse and hevynesse,
To parte wit A you, the same :
to shewe alle tho that do not so,
trew lovers ar they non ;
ffor, in my mynd, of alle mankynd
I love but you alon.
ll
SQUYRE.
I cownsaille you, Remembre how,
hit is no maydyns lawe,
No-thyng to dowte, but to renne owt
to wodo with an owtlawe.
ffor ye mvste thcr, In your hond here
a bowe Eedy to drawe,
&, as a theff, thus mvst ye levc,
Ever In drede & awe ;
wherby to you Grit harm myght grow :
yet hade I lover than,
that I | had] to The grenwod go,
alon, a banysshed man.
p.'
PIKI.LA.
I say not nay, but as ye say,
3 t is no maydyns lore ;
but love may make Mo to for-sakc,
as I haue savd beffore,
i- ci no fote, To hunte & shote
to get us mete in store ;
fior so that 1 yo/n- company
may haue, I askc no more :
178
Til", NUTT BKOWNE MAYD.
of the hard-
ships she'd
have to
undergo
with him,
and sa\'s
he'll go alone
to the
greenwood.
She answers
that as she's
shared his
joy, she'll
share his
woe.
a the thorny e wayes, the deepe valleys,
52 the liaile, ffrost, snow, & raine ;
ffor dry & weete, ffor cold & heate,
wee must Lye on the plaine ;
no other house [be] vs aboue,
56 but a bush or a brake twaine.
my hart sweet, this ill dyett,
I know itt will make thee to looke wan ;
therfore will I to the greenwoode goe,
CO my selfe, a banished man."
6
1 Shee sayes, " with you I haue been partener,
with you in Ioy' and blisse ;
I will take alsoe part of yowr woe,
64 endure, as reason itt is ;
ffrom which to parte, it makyth myharte
as colde as any ston ;
for, in my mynde, of allc mawkyud
I love but you alone.
13
SQUYBE.
ffor an owtlawe This is the lawe,
that men hym take and bynde,
witAowt pite, hangid to be,
& waver â– with the wynde.
yf I had nede, (as God for-bede !)
what socowrs cowld ye fynde ?
fforsoth, I trow, ye and your bowe
ffor fere wold draw behynde.
and no mervayle : ffor littille avayle
were in yo?«r cownsellc than :
wherfor I wille to the grenwod go,
alon, a banysshed man.
14
PCELLA.
Right wellc know ye, that wymen bo
but feble for to fight;
No womawhede it is in-dede
to be bolde as a knyght :
yet, in suche fere yf that ye were
with ennemyes day or nyght,
I wold witAstond, with bow in honde,
To belpeyou with my myght, [leaf 212]
and you to save ; as wymen hare
from ilctli | men] many one:
for, in my mynd, of allc mawkynd
I love but you alon.
15
[SQUYRE.]
Yet take good hede ; for curr I dredo
that ye cowld not sustcyn
" the thorny wayes, the depe valeyes,
the snowe, the froste, the Rayn,
the colde, the hete : for drye & wete
we mvste logge on the playn ;
&, vs above, none other Roffe
but a brake, bushe, or twayn :
which sone shuld greve you, I beleve ;
& ye wold gladly than
that I had to the grenwode goo,
a-lon, a banysshed man.
16
PUEIXA.
1 Sith I haue here ben partynere
with you yoye & blisse,
I mvste also parte of yowr woo
Endure, as Reason is :
yet am 1 sure of on pleasure;
&, shortly, it is this :
lh,i\, wliri' ye be, mo semeth, parde,
I cowld not fare a-mysse.
withowt more speche 1 you beseche
that we were shortly gon ;
For, in my mynd, of allc mankynd
I love but you alon.
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
179
but I sliold be sure of one pleasure,
that is shortlye this,
wheresoeuer you be, that I you see,
68 I cold not flare amisse.
from home to depart will make my hart
as cold as any stone ;
ffbr in my mind, of all mankind
72 I loue but you alone."
At any rate
she shall
see him,
ami she loves
him alone.
we shall have
no meat,
no sheets.
1 " But you must consider, sweet bart, when you " But think >
come thither
and haue List to dine,
there is no meate that wee can gett,
76 neither ale, beere, nor wine,
nor sheetes cleane to lye betweene,
made neither of threed nor twinn, [pagc42i]
Nor noe other house but leaues & brouse,
80 to couer yo?<r head and mine. 2
my hart sweet, this ill dyett,
I know will make thee to Looke wan ;
therfore will I to the greenwood goe
84 my selfe, a banished man."
It'll make
you wan.
I'll go to the
woods by
myself."
8
3 " But among wild deere," shee said, " such an "oh. you'll
shoot deer
archer for us ;
as men say that you bee,
[SQTJYRE.]
' Iff ye go thyder, ye mvsl consider,
whan ye have luste to dyne,
i 1m- i- shall* no mete be for to gete,
Nether bere, ale, ne wyne ;
nc Bhetes clen, to lay betwen,
Made of threde and twyne ;
non other bows, but Levis ^v bowes,
tn ( lover yowr hede & myne ;
loo in\ ii hart Bwete, this ill' dyetl
sliuhl make you pah and wan ;
wherfor I wille to tho grenwod go,
a-lon, a banysshed man.
2 nine in MS.— F.
18
[PTJEIXA.]
'â– ' Anioii^re tliv wihle ilere, .suehc an archer?,
as men say t/«/i ye be,
may nut lay \\r of good vytaylk*,
wher is si i gret plente :
ix w&ter clere of the Rirere
shallr lie fullc swete to me ;
180
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
I'll drink
water
and provide
a bed,
for I love
but you
alone.*'
you sliold not ffaile ffor good vittaile
88 where is such great plentye ;
the water cleere within the riuer
shold be full sweete to me ;
I cold endure well, I am sure, a
92 in health as you may see ;
& a bedd or 2, before I goe,
I will prouide anon ;
ffor in my minde, 1 aboue all mankind
9G I loue but you alone."
"Ah, but
there's worse
to do.
You must
cut your
hair,
shorten your
frock,
and start
with me
before
daylight,
for I'm a
banished
man."
2 " Nay Loue, thore you must doe more :
If you will goe w/th mee,
you must shorten yo?tr haire aboue yowr eare,
100 & yo?<r kirtle 3 aboue your knee,
ffor to Av/thstand, with bow in hand,
your enemyes, if neede bee ;
ffor this same night, before it be day-light,
104 to the woods that I will mee ;
& if you will all this ffulfill,
doe itt as shortlye as you can,
or else I must to the greenwood goe
108 my selfe, a banished man."
with which in helo* I shalle Eight welle a
Endure, as ye shalle see ;
and, or we go, a bedde or two
I can p?'ovide anon ;
ffor, in my mynde, of alle mawkynd
I love but you alone.
1 ninde in MS.†” F.
19
SQTJYRE. [leaf 2126]
2 Loo yet, boffore, ye mvst do more,
yf ye wille goo -with me :
as, cute yo?/r here vp by yo«r ere,
your kyrtyll by yowr knee ;
with bow in honde, for to w/t//stonde
yo?a* enymyes, yf nede be :
& this same nyght, beffore day-light,
to wode-warde wille I flee,
yff that ye wille alle this fulfille,
do it as shortly as ye can ;
Els wille I to the grenwode go,
alone, a banysshed man.
3 Kyrtle is not upper petticoat, but our
modern gown, a waist and petticoat. A
kyrtle and mantle completed a woman's
dress. Crit. Ecv. Jan. 1795, p. 49. —
F.
* Health.— F.
TUB NUT! BRJWNE MA.YD.
181
10
1 " Euea now," shee saies, "He doe more ffor you
then belongs to woman-hood.' 2 ;
He shorten my haire, a bow to beare,
112 to shoote in time of neede.
my owne deare mother ! aboue all other
of you I haue much dread ;
but yett, adew ! I must insue ;
116 a such ffortune does me lead,
therefore make you ready now
as ffast as euer you can ; b
ffor in my mind, of all mankind
120 I loue but you alone."
" I'll go
with yoa at
once.
Dear mother,
adieu !
My love,
make ready !
I love but
you alone."
11
3 " Nde, not soe, you shall not goe !
ffor He tell you now as why :
your habitt 4 itt is to be light,
124 my loue, I will espye ;
for likwise as you say to me,
Likewise you shall ffmd, c
itt is told of old, ' soone hott, soone cold,
1 28 and soe is a woman ; '
therfore will I to the greenwood goe
my selfe, a banished man."
"No, you
shall not go.
Women
change soon.
I'll go to the
woods
alone."
20
PTJELLA.
1 1 shalle as now do more for you
than longith to womanhede;
to shorte myn here, a bowe to bere,
to shote in tyme of node.
i) my Bwete moder, beffore alle oder
for you I have moste drede :
but now, adewe! 1 mvsl ensue,
a wher fortune doth me 1
all* this make ye: Now Lai va flee ;
the day corometb fast ypon ; b
flbr, in my mynd, of alle mankynde
1 love bul you a-lon.
'-' kced wanted, to rhyme with m
— Dyce.
21
SQUYBK.
'Nay, nay, not so ; ye shalle not go,
& I Eshallfl telle you whye,
yowr appel ite is to be light
of love, 1 well'' espye :
for, Like as ye haue said to me,
In likewyse hardely c
ye wolde answers who-so-euer it were,
In way of Companye.
It is said of olde, Soil whof, sono colde ;
i\: so is a womare.
ffor I mvste to the grenwode goo,
alone, a banysshed man.
* appetite. — P.
182
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
" You shall
have no
cause to say
that of me.
Haven't I, a
baron's
daughter,
loved you,
a poor
squire ?
And I'll die
with you,
I love but
you alone."
12
" Giff yon take heed, you doe not need
132 soe ffarr to speake by mee ;
ffor I liaue prayed, & long I haue sayd,
before I loued pardye ;
& [though] that you [know] of anceytrye
136 a Barrons daughter I bee,
& you haue proued how [I] haue loued b
a squier 2 of a Low degree,
& shall doe, whatsoeuer doth beffall,
140 to die wi'th him anon ;
& in my mind, of all mankind
I loue but you alone."
'• What! I,
an outlaw,
mate with a
baron's
daughter !
God forbid !
You'll
reproach me
with having
betrayed
you.
Let me go
alone."
13
3 " A Barrons child to be beguiled !
144 that were a cursed deede.
& to become fFellow with an outlaw !
alimightye god fforbidd !
itt were better the pore Squier
148 himselfe to the fforrest yeede,
then you shold say another day,
' by my accursed deede
you were betraid.' therefore, good maide,
152 the best way that I can,
is, lett me vnto the fforrest goe
my selfe, a banished man."
22
PUELLA.
1 yf yc take hede, it is no necle
such worch's to say to me ;
ffor ofte ye prayd, and long assayed,
Or I you loved, parde :
& thowgh that I of avncetrye a
a barons dowghter be,
yet haue ye proved how I ye loved, b
a squyre of lowe degre ;
and ever shalle, what -so befalle;
in dye therefor a-non ;
ffor, in my mynd, of alle marakynd
I love but you a-lon.
1 The MS. has four strokes for ui.—F.
23
[squyre.]
3 A barons child to be begiled !
It were a cursed dede !
To be felowe with an owtlarwe !
almyghty god forbede !
yet better were, the poro squyer
alon to foroste yede,
than ye shuld say aa-other day,
that, by my cursed Eede,
ye were betrayde : Wherefor, good mayd,
the best Eede that I can, [leaf 218]
ys, that I to the grenwod go,
alon, a banysshed man.
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
183
14
" Let this out-ffall, I neuer shall
156 of that thing you vpbraid ;
but if you goe & leaue me soe,
then I am quite betraid.
Remember how that itt is, a
160 you are not as you said :
you are vnkind to leaue behind
your loue, the nutt-browne maid,
trust me, trulye I must dye
164 as soone as you are gone ;
for in my mind, of all mankind
I loue but you alone."
" Whatever
happens,
I'll never
upbraid you,
except you
leave me.
[page 422]
I am your
love, and
must die if
you go.
1 love but
you alone.'
15
2 " Why, but if 3-ou went, you wold repent;
168 for in the fforrest now
I haue prouided me of a maid
whom I loue better then you ;
& ffairer then euer you Avere,
172 I dare this well auowe.
betw[i]xt you both I shold be wroth b
w/'th eche other, as I trowe ;
itt is my ease to Hue [in] peace ;
170 soe will I if I cann ;
ffor I will to the greenwood goe
my selfe, a banished man."
" But you'd
repent if you
did come ;
for I've got
the<'e a
prettier
maid, whom
I love better
than you:
I'll go to the
woods
alone."
24
I PI ELLA.]
What-ever befalle, I neuer Bhalle
of this thyng you o"wt-brayde;
Bui j f ye go, & Leve mi
tb;i-/ haue ye me betrayde.
Remembn you welle, hois tha\ ye dele
for, yf ye be as ye said,
ye were vnkynd, to leve me behynd,
yoitr love, the Nutbrown mayde.
Tru te I me | truly, tha\ 1 shall* dye
sonc after ye be pun ;
ffor, in nw invinl. of all mankynd
I love bul you alon.
25
SQUYRE.
- If that you went, ye shuld Repent ;
for in the foreste uowe
I have purveyde me of a mayde,
whom I love more than you ;
an-olher mure fayre, thaw euer ye were,
I dare ii welle avowe ;
and of you both, Eche willche wroth"
With other, as 1 troWO.
It were myn eas to leve in peas ;
so will' I, yf I can ;
wherefor I wills to the grenwod goo,
alon, a banysshed man.
184
THE NUTT BIIOWJNE MAYD.
" Never
mind,
though you
have a
paramour,
I still am
yours.
I'll be soft
and kind to
her,
and be your
second love,
when you
want one.
I love vou
alone."
1G
1 " Why, tlio in the wood I vnderstood
180 that you had a paramoure,
yett all that right nought reruoues my thought,
for still I will be yours,
shee shold me fund both soft & kind,
184 & curteous euery houre ;
gladd jour will for to ffulfill ; a
comand me to my power.
& if you haue a 100 more,
188 of them I wold be one ;
for in my mind, of all mankind
I loue but you alone."
" Dear, true
love !
Be glad,
believe not
what I have
said!
I am Lord
Westmore-
land's son,
and not
17
2 " My owne deere loue ! I see and proue
192 that you be kind and true !
in maid & wiffe, in all my liffe
the best that euer I knew !
Be merry & glad, be no more sa[d],
196 the case is altered now ;
b be not dismaid [at] what I haue said
to you since I begann.
thus you haue woone the Erie of Westmoreland sone, c
200 & not a banished man."
26
[mayd.]
1 Thowgh in the wode 1 vndcrstode
ye had a paraniowre,
alle this may nowght remove my thowgh t,
hut that I wille he yo«r :
& she shade me fynd softe and kynd,
& Ourteys euery owre ;
Glad to fulfills alle that she wille,"
Comaund mo to my powere :
ffor had ye, loo ! an hundreth mo,
yel wnkle I be that on ;
ffor, in my mynd, of alle marakynd
I love but you a-lon.
27
[SQUYRE.]
2 Myn own dere love ! I so thee prove
thut ye he kynde & trewe ;
of mayde & wyf, In alle my lyff,
the best that ever I knew.
Be mery and glade ; be no more sade ;
The case is chawnged newe ;
for it were Kcwth, that for your trcwth, b
that ye shuld have cawse to Rewe,
be not dysmayde, what-so-euer I aaid
to you, whan I be-gan ;
I wille not to the grenwodo go ; c
I am no banysshed man.
THE 1SUTT BKOWNE MAYD.
185
18
1 " These ty dings to me are gladder," slice saies,
" then tho I were a Queene,
If I were sure itt wold endure ;
204 but itt is often seene
men will break promise [tho] the speake
words vpon the plaine.
you shape some wyle, me to beguile,
208 & steale ffrom me, I weene ;
then were the case worsse then euer itt was,
& I were woe-begon ;
for in my mind, of all mankinde
212 I loue but you alone."
19
2 " You shall not neede soe fiar to dreed,
ffor I will not disparishe 3
[you, (God defend !) sith you descend
216 of so gret a linage ;]
for Westmoreland, as I vnderstand,
itt is my owne heritage ;
I will thee bring in With a ringe ;
220 in way of Marryage
I will you take, and Ladye make,
as shortly e as euer I cann.
a banished
man."
"I'm gladder
than if I
were Queen.
But are not
you beguil-
ing me ?
If you leave
me
I am lost ;
for I love
but you
alone."
" No, truly,
Westmore-
land is mine.
I'll wed you
as soon as I
can.
28
MAYD. [leaf 2186]
1 Thes tydyingis be more gladder to me,
than tn be made a quene,
yf I were sure they shuld endure:
but it. is often seen,
whew men will'' breke promyso, thoy
Bpeke
the wordw on the splene.*
ye shape Bom wyle me to begile,
& stele from me, 1 wene:
than were the caas wors thaw it was,
iV 1 more woo-be-gon :
ffor, In my mynd, of alL marakynd
1 love but you alon.
29
SQT'YRE.
- Ye shallr- not mile further to drede ;
I willff not disparage f
you, (god defendo!) Sith ye descende
of so grel a lynage.
Now vuderstond; to Westmorelond,
which is niyn herytage,
1 wille you bryng; oc wiih a rynge
by way of maryage
I wille you take, & lady make,
;i^ sin irt ly as I can :
Than baue ye wonne an erles sonne,
ec not a banysshed man.
• i in a Midden.— B. licll.
t disparage. Arnoldo. — F.
186
THE NUTT BROWNE MAYD.
I'm not a
banisbed
man."
thus haue you woone the Erie of westmorelands
sonne, 1
224 and not a banished man."
So yon fee
women are
true.
Let not men
reprove
them.
Men want
their love ;
but I shall
love God
alone.
20
2 Heere you may see that women bee
of loue meeke, kind, and stable,
lett neuer men reproue them then,
228 nor call them varyable, a
but rather pray to god that they
to men may be comfortable,
that haue proued such as they loucd,
232 iff they be charitable.
but men wold that women shold
be kind to them eche one,
yett I had rather, god to obay,
236 & serue but him alone. 3
ffinis.
1 sonme in MS.— F.
30
[author.]
2 Here may ye see, that wome» be
In lore, meke, kynd, & stable ;
latt never ma» Reprove them than,
yf they be Charytable,"
but Rather pray god that we may
to them be confortable;
God siiMtyme provith, such as he lovith,
yf they be * charytable.
for sith mew wold that womc« shuld
be meke to them echoue ;
moche more awght they to god obey,
and seme but hym alon.
Explicit, quod Richard Hillc.
here endith the nutbrown mayd.
This last stanza is not in Prior's
Edition.— P.
3 From the concluding Words of this
last stanza it should seem that the Aut lior
wus a woman. — P.
* MS. be be.-F.
187
€\)t : rode of (Englanne : l
[page 423]
Thomas. Come hither, fiddler ;
What ballads are you seen in best ? Be short, Sir.
Fiddler, Under your mastership's correction, I can sing
" The Duke of Norfolk," or " The merry ballad
Of Diverus and Lazarus," " The Rose of England "
" In Crete when Dedimus first began,"
" Jonas his Crying-out against Coventry."
Thorn. Excellent !
Rare matters all !
Fid. "Maudlin the Merchant's Daughter,"
" The Devil and ye Dainty Dames."
Thorn. Rare still!
Fid. " The landing of the Spaniards at Bow,
With the bloody battle of Mile End."
Thorn. All excellent !
Monsieur Thomas, act iii. sc. 3.
Tins is one of the many pieces that compose the Bosworth Field
and Stanley cycle. It relates in an allegorical manner how
the Earl of Richmond returned to claim his right, and how he
claimed it. There is some little confusion in this as in most
other allegories ; for indeed, to speak the language of parables
coherently and with consistence is a matter of no ordinary diffi-
culty. Nor is the allegorical treatment always maintained ; the
Rose suddenly becomes Earl Richmond. The piece is charac-
terised by a certain vigour and earnestness. The writer gives
himself up to his subject ; he feels that that is great and grand.
No doubt he was some Lancashire or Cheshire man, a vehement
admirer of the Stanleys. Percy says that the song was written
in "Henry 8" |, s lifetime." From the last stanzas it would
' An allegorical i the Landing bury, written in Henry 8".'' s lifetime.
& Victory of King llenry 7'.". with the KB. This m>h- is quoted in Beaum".'
brave Conduct of the BaiUff of Shwsws- Mons. Tho*. p. 397. — 1*.
188 THE KO.SE OF ENGLANDE.
seem to have been written earlier — we should suspect before
the execution of Sir William Stanley in 1495. But the present
copy is, we may be sure, much modernised.
Vv. 57-90. — This incident is told, with additions, in " Dr.
Taylor's MS." quoted apud Phillips' History and Antiquity of
Shrewsbury.
Thys yeare [runs the MS.] in the monthe of August 1485, Henry
Earle of Rychemoonde came out of Bryttane towards England wyth a
small companye & landyd at Mylford Haven in Wales nygh Pembrooke
the 7th daye of August, having help Inoughe in England & so niarcbyng
forward being stayed at no place untyll he came to the towne of
Shrosberie, where the gates were shutt egainst by him, & the
pullys let downe : so the Earle's messengers came to the gate to say
the Welsh gate, commandynge them to open the gates to theyre right
Kynge, and Maister Myttoon made answere being head bayley, & a
stoute royste gentilman sayinge that he knew no kynge, but only Kynge
Richard, whose lyfFetenants he & hys fellows were ; & before he
should enter there, he should goe oner hys belly : meaninge thereby
that he would be slayne to the grounde, and so to roon over hym
before he cntird, and that he protestyd vehemently e uppon the Ofcke
he had tacken.
So the sayd Erie returnyd wyth hys companye backe agayne to a
vylledge callyd Forton, 3 Myles and a halfe from Shrosberie, where
he lay that night, & in the mornynge followynge there came Em-
bassadors to speake with the Baylyff, requesting to passe quyetlye,
and that the Erie theyre master dyd not meane to hurt the towne
nor none therein, but to go to trye hys right, & that he promysed
further that he would save his othe & hym & hys fellows harmless ;
uppon thys they entered, and the sayd Mytton laye alonge the
grounde, & hys belly uppwardes, & soe the sayd Erl stepped over him
& saved hys othe ; and so passing forthe & marching forwarde he
came to Bosworth, whar the Battel was fought betwyxt hym & Kynge
Richard, in which Kynge Richard was slayne.
The difficulty in which the poor mayor found himself placed
was of course of no rare occurrence in a period when the occu-
pancy of the throne was perpetually disturbed. It was of so
common occurrence, that a statute was passed in the eleventh
THE ROSE OF ENfil.ANDE.
189
year of Henry the Seventh's reign declaring that " subjects are
bounden to serve their prince and sovereign lord for the time
being in his wars for the defence of him and his land against
every rebellion, power and might reared against him," and
proceeding to enact that no person for the same " true service of
allegiance " shall be " convict or attaint of high treason nor of
other offences for that cause." The answer which the distressed
official here makes is pretty much the same with that made by
Herod under somewhat similar circumstances — made by him to
Octavius after the fall of Antony, whose firm friend the Idumsean
prince had been. (See Jos. Ant. xv. vi. 6 ; Bell. Jud. I. xx. 1.)
Vv. 107, 108. — Compare in Theocritus' account of the combat
between Amycus and Pollux (ed. Ahrens):
ei/6a ttoAvs ffcpifft fx6\6os iira^oixivoLOiv irvx^T},
birn&Ttpos Kara vwja Ad/3cu (J>dos 7/eAioio •
Utpiri fxtya 5' avSpa irapijAvdes, & TloAvSevKes,
f3d\A€TO 8' aKTivftrfftv aivav 'A/j.vkoio irpoaaiirov.
THROUGHOUT : a garden greene & gay,
a seernlye sight itt was to see
how fflowers did flourish fresh and gay,
4 & hirds doe sing Melodiouslye
In a gay-
garden,
grew gay
flowers.
in the midst of a garden there sprange ' a tree
which tree was of a mickle price,
& then' \ ppon sprang the rose soe redd,
8 the goodlyest that euer sprange on rise. 2
and in the
midsl was
a rose sored,
(Edward V.)
this rose was ffaire, ffresh to behold,
springing with many a royall Lance;
a crowned King, vv/th ;i crowne of gold
12 oner England, IreLand, and of ffrance.
the King of
England,
Ireland,
and France.
this garden sprang. — P.
2 bough. — F.
190
THE ROSE OF ENGLANDE.
A Boar
(Richard
III.)
came in and
trampled
it down,
then came in a beast men call a bore, 1
& lie rooted tins garden vpp and downe, 2
by the seede of the rose he sett noe store,
10 but afterwards itt wore the crowne.
and buried
its branches.
hee tooke the branches of this rose away, 3
and all in sunder did them teare ;
& he buryed them vnder a clodd of clay,
20 swore they shold neue> - 4 bloome nor beare.
But an Eagle
(Lord
Derby)
bore the
branch
to its nest at
Latham.
then came in an Egle gleaming gay,
of all ffaire birds well worth the best ;
he took the branche of the rose away,
24 & bore itt to Latham 5 to his nest.
but now is this rose out of England exiled,
this certaine truth I will not Laine G ;
but if itt please you to sitt a while,
28 lie tell you how the rose came in againe.
And the Rose
(Henry
TIL)
came in
agrain at
Milford,
att Milford hauen he entered in 7 ;
to claime his right, was his delight ;
he brought the blew bore in with him,
32 to encounter with the bore soe white. 8
1 Cf. the stanza quoted in Mrs. Mark-
ham :
" The Cat, the Eat, and Lovell the dog
Buled all England under the Hog."
This poem, -written by Win. Col-
lingborne, is quoted in Larwood's His-
tory of Signboards, p. 116, where it says
Richard III.'s cognisance was a boar,
passant, argent. Blue Boar = Earl of
Oxford. See Hist. Signb., p. 116. —
Skeat. The Earls of Oxford and Pcm-
broke were two of the chief commanders
in Henry VII. 's army. The deeds of the
latter (Jasper Tudor, Ear] of Pembroke,
afterwards Duke of Bedford), and cf the
famous Sir Win. Brandon, the Standard
Bearer, do not appear to be commemo-
rated in this poem. — G. E. Adams.
2 And there he rooted up and down.
—P.
3 clean away. — P.
4 and .... ne'er. — P.
5 See " Bosworth ffeilde," 1. 347.— F.
6 conceal. — P.
7 See " Scotish ffeikle," 1. 8, vol. i.
p. 212 ; "Bosworth ffeilde," 1. 60, below ;
" Ladye Bessiye," below, 1. 809.— F.
8 The blue boar was borne by the
Earl of Oxford, who is named in line 71.
Richard III.'s cognisance was a boar
passant, argent. — Skeat.
THE ROSE OF ENGLANDE.
191
36
the[n] ! a messenger the rose did send
to the Egles nest, & bidd him hye ;
" to my gather 2 the old Egle I doe [me] comend, 3
his aide. and helpe I craue 4 speedylye."
and sent to
ask
the old
Eagle to
help him
saies, " I desire my father att my 5 cominge
of men and 6 mony att my need,
& alsoe my mother of her deer blessing,
40 then better then I hope to speede."
with men
and money.
& when the messenger came before 7 thold Egle,
he kneeled him downe vpon his knee,
saith, " well greeteth you my Lo«Z the rose,
44 he hath sent you greetings here by me.
The Itose's
messenger
tells the old
Eagle.
" safe ffrom the seas Christ hath him 8 sent,
now he is entered England within."
" let vs thanke god," the old Egle did say,
48 " he shall be the mower of all his kine !
He thanks
God,
" wend away, messenger, with might and maine ;
itts hard to know who a man may trust ; —
I hope the rose shall fflourish againe,
& haue all things att Ids owne lust."
and wishes
the Rose God
speed.
56
then S/'r Rice ap Thomas drawes wales with him :
u worthy sight ilt was to see,
bow the welchmen rose wholy with him,
& Bhogged 9 him to Shvewsburye.
1 tho, or Hun.— P.
- Bend up- tho lone of tho Lo/yZ
Stanley!
lie marryed my mother, a Lady
bright.
Bosworthffeilde, 1. 69-60, below.— F.
3 we commend. I'.
The Welsh-
men caxrj
the llote
to
Shrewsbury,
1 Iiis aid I must crave.— P.
5 I desire of my Father at my. — P.
8 Botl in &.-P.
7 there.— P.
Apparently altered from "mim" in
31 S. P.
9 moved. See vol. i. p. 218, note *. —
F.
192
THE ROSE OF ENGLANDE.
where
Master
Mitton is
bailiff.
GO
Att that time was baylye in ' Shrewsburye
one Master Mitton 2 in the towne.
the gates were strong, & he mad them ffast,
& the portcullis he lett downe ;
Mitton
declares no
one shall
enter,
& throug a garrett of the walls,
ouer severne these words said hee,
" att these gates no man enter shall."
64 but he kept him out a night & a day. 3
but on
getting
orders
from Sir
William
Stanley,
lets in the
Red Rose,
who stops
Lord Oxford
killing him.
these words Mitton did 4 Erie Richmond tell ;
I am sure the Chronicles of this will not Lye ;
but when le^res came 5 from S/r William Stanley of
the holt castle,
68 then the gates were opened presentlye.
then entred this towne the noble Lord
the Erie Richmond, the 6 rose soe redd,
the Erie of Oxford with a sword
72 wold haue smitt of the bailiffes head.
" but hold jouv hand," saies Erie Richmond,
" ffor his loue that dyed vpon a tree !
ffor if wee begin to head 7 so soone, [page 424]
76 in England wee shall beare no degree."
Richmond
asks Mitton
why he
opposed
him?
" Because
Richard is
my king."
" what offence haue I made thee, " sayd Erie
Richmonde,
"that thou Kept me out of my towne? "
" I know no King," sayd Mitton then,
80 " but Richard now that weares the crowne."
1 of.— P.
2 Maister Mitton. — P.
3 be kept out by night or clay. — P.
The man misses the whole point of the
story: the Mayor said, 1 have sworn that
no one shall enter this town except over
mil /.in///; on which Henry proposed that
he should lie down and let him step over
him ; which ho did. — Skeat.
4 lie did.— P.
5 cane in MS. — F.
u that.— P.
7 A.-S. hcafdian, to behead. — F.
THE ROSE OF ENGLAND!'..
193
84
" why, what wilt thou say,*' said Erie Richmonde,
" when I haue put King Richard dowue ?"
" why, then He be as time to you, my Lord,
after the time that I am sworne."
" But when
I put
Richard
down V"
"Why then
I'll bo true
to you."
" were itt not great pitty," sayd l Erie Richmond,
" that such a man as this shold dye ? "
such Loyall service by him done,
88 the cronickles of this will not Lye. 2
" thou shalt not be harmed in any case."
he p«rdone[d] him presentlye.
they stayd not past a night & a day, 3
92 but towards newpoit 4 did they hye.
So Mitton
is pardoned.
96
but 5 [at] Attherston these .Lords did meete ;
a worthy sight itt was to see,
how Erie Richmond tooke his hatt in his hand,
Cheshire and
Lancashire
& said, " Cheshire & Lancashire, welcome to me." p""*
. ' the Rose.
but now is a bird 6 of the Egle taken 7 ;
ffrom the white bore he cannot fflee.
therfore the old Egle 8 makes great moane,
loo & prayes to god most certainly :
but the
young Eagle
is taken,
and the old
one prays
(lod
" stedfast god, verament," he did say —
" 3 persons in one god in Trinytyc !
saue my sonnc, the young Kgle, this day
104 ffrom all liaise craft & trechcrye ! "
to save his
son.
1 t ho, or Richmond said. —P.
- will tl.it Live. P.
: ' In the wyle cop, Shrewsbury, is an
old house, lately a tinman's shop (and,
perhaps, it is so still) where either
Henry VII. or Richard III. is said to
have lodged not Long before the battle of
Bos worth. Skeat.
1 Newport in Shropshire. — P.
'• Wu. \i, or perhaps about. I'.
Lord Strange, the eldest son of Lord
Stanley. G-. E. A.
; tane. P.
8 Lord Stanley, afterwards made Earl
of Derby, (i. E. A.
VOL. III.
194
THE ROSE OF ENGLANDE.
The blue
Boar (Lord
Oxford)
leads the
van ;
10S
tlien the blew bore 1 the vanward had :
he was both wany and wise of Avitt ;
the right hand of them he tooke,
the sunn & wind of them to gett.
the Eagle,
Talbot,
Unicorn,
then the Egle ffollowed fast vpon his pray ;
w/th 2 sore dints he did them smyte.
the Talbott 3 he bitt wonderous sore,
1 1 -2 soe well the vnicorne 4 did him quite.
Hart's head,
ivhite-and-
red -jackets,
fight,
& then came in the harts head 5 ;
a worthy sight itt was to see,
they Iaeketts that were of white & redd,
116 how they Laid about them lustilye.
and win the
day.
The white
Boar
(Richard
III.) is slain.
120
but now is the ffeirce ffeeld fought en & ended,
& the white bore there Lyeth slaine ;
& the young. Egle is presented,
& come to 6 his nest againe.
The garden
flourishes.
but now this garden fflourishes ffreshly & gay,
w/th {fragrant mowers comely of hew;
& gardners itt doth maintaine ;
124 I hope they will proue lust & true.
Our King is
the Rose.
God love
him !
our King, he is the rose soe redd,
that now does fflourish ffresh and gay,
Confound his ffoes, LortZ, wee beseeche,
128 & loue his grace both night & day !
ffinis.
1 The badge of John, Earl of Oxford.
— G. E. Adams.
2 And with.— P.
3 The Talbot was the badge of the
family of Talbot. Karls of Shrewsbury.
The person referred to is doubtless Sir
Gilbert Talbot of Grafton (uncle of the
4th Earl, then a minor), who commanded
the right wing of Henry's army. — G.E.A.
4 The unicorn's head was the crest of
Sir John Savage of Sock Savage, CO.
Chester, one of Henry's principal com-
manders at Bosworth. — G. E. A.
5 Probably alluding to those in the
ainis of Sir Win. Stanley (the brother to
Lord Stanley), who had the rearguard. —
G. E. A.
6 unto.— P.
19)
€in pott man & tin Hinge:
Tins is a Kent version of the ballad which Martin Parker issued
as a Northumberland one in 1640, with the title " The King and
a poore Northerne Man. Shewing how a poore Northumber-
land man, a tenant to the King, being wronged by a Lawyer
(his neighbour), went to the King himself to make knowne his
grievances. Full of simple mirth and merry plaine jests." The
Percy Society reprinted this in 1841, Mr. Collier editing; and
Mr. Hazlitt reprinted it in 1866 in his Early Popular Poetry,
vol. iv. p. 290. The Folio ballad differs from Parker's, not only
in place, but in some of the incidents, and much in the wording.
Its existence (coupled with that of the King & Northern Man,
printed by W. 0[nley] noticed by Mr. Collier,) confirms the sug-
gestion of that editor, which Mr. Hazlitt states thus : " The strict
claim of Martin Parker to the original authorship of this produc-
tioD maybe open to question. Perhaps he merely modernized
what he found already in print, but too antique to please the
delicate palates of the customers for such articles in his day, and
upon the strength <>f this attached his initials, which, as will be
seen, occur at the conclusion of the tract." The second edition
of it was in 1673, black letter, eleven leaves; and there is a copy
of it in the British Museum. (Hazlitt.)
Lawyers have always been reckoned poor men's foes. And the
reason is not far to seek. As a gamekeeper said to a solicitor I
know, who had grumbled at the dogs out shooting, and then got
regularly hooked up by some brambles, " We call them 'ere
lawyers down here, we do. When they once gets hold of 'ee,
they don't let 'ee go without takin' a bit out of 'ee." The
o -i
196 THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE.
profession lias not the credit of working at law for nothing,
whatever it may do at Early English, &c. &c. Langland says
in his Vision (p. 5, 1. 849, Vernon Text, ed. Skeat) :
bcr houeJ> an Hundret â– in Houues of selk,
Seriauns hit semeb â– to semen atte Barre;
Pleden for pons â– and pouHcles be lawe,
Not for lone of vr lord • vn-loseb heore lippes ones.
bow mihtest beter metew be Myst â– on Maluerne hulles,
ben geten a Mom of heore Moub â– til moneyo weore scheweil.
The rehels under Wat Tyler " killed such judges and lawyers
as fell into their hands" (Macfarlane, iv. 183); and the Scotch
proverbs — " Law licks up a','' " Nae plea is the best plea," " Law's
costly; tak a pint and gree," &c. (Hislop, p. 308) — bear witness
to the general modern feeling on the subject.
The punishment of a rapacious lawyer has always been a
popular theme, and the present ballad tells how a poor man who
dwelled in Kent paid out the lawyer who tried to fleece him.
He went to his king — the popular remedy for men alone, as
ballads and stories show; the popular remedy for crowds, as Wat
Tyler's rebellion shows — and begged to be let off the forfeiture
of his lease that his felling five of his landlord's, the king's, ash
trees to build his house with had worked, and of which forfeiture
the lawyer wanted to take advantage. Needless to say that the
king forgives his Kentish man, — a worthy descendant of those
who stood up against William the Conqueror for their lights, — -
and, to punish the lawyer in a way that all may understand, bids
the poor man,
untill hee haue paid thee a 100'A
thoust tye him to a tree that hee cannott .start.
This the poor man threatens to do ; but the lawyer pays down his
money, and the ballad concludes :
God send all Lawyers thus well served !
then may pore ffarmers liuo in rest.
The poem also gives rise to another set of scenes like those we
THE TORE MAN AND THE KINGE. 197
have seen in the Kinge and Miller and John de Reeve, on the
countryman's coming- to court. To those who "coude their
curtesye," and were full of the fhmkeyish respect of persons that
characterises courtiers, it must have heen a joke to see a proud
porter rapped on the crown hy the country clown, a nobleman
offered fourpence for an introduction to the king, and the dread
incarnation of majesty himself told that he was a very poor-
looking fellow for a sovereign, and his grand feast only —
. twatling dishes soe small :
zounds ! a blacke pudding is better then all !
(vol. i. p. 156.)
On the general subject Mr. Hales's Introduction to the King
and Miller, vol. i. pp. 147—8, should be consulted. — F.
ITT : was a pore man, he dwelled in Kent, a poor man
holds laud of
he payd our King 5 â– of rent ; the King.
& there is a lawyer dwelt him by, A lawyer
c« yc lio li*m
4 a itault in his [lease, 1 ] god wott ! he hath ffound, forfeited his
Igjisg bv
" & all was for flailing of 5 ashe trees cutting five
to build me a house of my owue good ground.
ash trees.
" I bidd him lett me & my ground alone 2 ; He offers the
t • ip •-» i -it lawyer 40*.
8 to cease Ins selie, it no was wulinge,
& pike no vantages out of his :! lease;
& hee seemed a good ffellow, I wold giue him -l^ 4 " Jjg*
[" 40° nor 401 1
12 wold not agree this lawer and mee,
without I wold giue him of my farme -ground, The lawyer
demands
& stand to his good Curtesye. 5 ] someofhis
1 lease.— P. Sec line 9.— F. » my.— F.
-' MS. alomo, him is fom with thee ' Read 40 shilliuge. — Skeat.
dotted. — i*'. i These are lines 147- <5() below. — F,
198
THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE.
He then
offers
5 marks ;
" lie l said, " nay, by his fay, that hee wold not doe,
16 ffor wiffe and children wold make madd warke,
but & he wold lett him and his ground alone,
he seemed a good ffellow, he wold giue him 5 marke." 2
but the
lawyer
refuses that
too.
So the poor
man resolves
to go to the
King.
" he said, " nay by his flay, that wold he not doe,
20 ffor 5 good ash trees that he fi'ell."
" then He doe as neighbors haue put me in head,
He make a submission to the King my-selfe."
by [that] he had gone a dayes iourney,
24 one of his neighbors he did spye,
" Neibor ! how ffar haue I to our King ? [page 425]
I am going towards him as ffast as I can hye."
" alas ! to-day," said his neighbour,
28 itts ffor you I make all this mone.
you may talke of that time enoughe
by that tenn daies Iourney you haue gone."
He gets to
London,
oversleeps
himself,
but when he came to London street,
32 for an host house he did call.
he Lay soe longe othe tother morninge a-sleepe,
that the court was remoued to winsor hall.
and is told
he must go
on to
Windsor ;
" arrise, my guest, you haue great neede ;
36 you haue Lyen too long euen by a great while ;
the court is Remoued to winsor this morning ;
hee is ffurther to seeke by 20 mile.
" alacke to-day ! " qtioth. the poore man,
40 " I thinke your King att me gott witt ;
had he knowen of my cominge,
I thinke he wold haue tarryed yett."
1 The poor man speaks of himsolf in miscopied for the /of lino 154. — F.
the third person ; or else lie and hee are 2 MS. narke. — F.
THE TUUE MAN AND THli KINGE.
199
" lie ffoled not for you," then said his host,
44 " but hye you to Windsor as fast as you may ;
& all your costs & jouv charges,
haue you no doubt but the Kmg will pay.'"
the King
will pay hi. 5
expenses.
he hath gotten a gray russett gowne on his backe,
48 & a hood well buckeled vnder his chin,
& a longe stafFe vpon his necke,
& he is to Windsor to our Kingc.
soe when hee came to windsor hall,
52 the gates were shutt as he there stood ;
he knocket and poled with, a great Long stafFe :
the porter had thought hee had beene woode.
So he goes to
Windsor
Hall,
knocks at
the gates,
he knocket againe with might & maine,
56 sais, " hey hoe ! is our K.mg within ? "
with that he proffered a great reward,
a single penny, to lett him come in.
" I thanke you, Sir," quoth, the porter then,
60 " the reward is soe great I cannott say nay ;
there is a noble-man standing by,
hirst He goe heare what hee will say."
the nobleman then came to the gates,
64 & asked him what his busines might bee :
"nay, soft," quoth the ffellow, " I tell thee not yett,
before I doe the K///y himselfe sec ;
itt Avas told me ere I came ffrom home,
68 that gentlemens hounds eaten arrands by the way,
& pore curr doggs may eatc mine ' ;
therfore I meane my owne arrands 2 to say."
"but & thou come in," saies the Porter then,
72 " thy bumble staffc behind wee must stay."
and offers
the porter a
penny to let
hiin in.
The porter
fetches a
nobleman,
who asks
the man
what his
business is.
"I'll tell the
Kingnn Belf.
Messengers
often
swallow
their
errands."
" Leave your
staff, then."
1 MS. nine.— F.
2 MS. arrand, with a tag to the d. — F.
200
THE POKE MAN AND THE K.INGE.
"No, I
shan't ;
the court
bankrupts
may rob
me."
The poor
man is led
to a noble-
man,
whom he
first takes
for the King,
and then
offers -id. to
biing him to
the King.
The noble-
man says
he'll ask the
King ;
does so ;
" beshrow the, Lyar," then said the pore man,
" then may thou terme me a foole, or a worsse ;
I know not what bankrouts bee about our 'King,
76 for lacke of mony wold take my pursse."
" hold him backe," then said the noble-man,
" & more of his speech wee will haue soone ;
He see how hee can answer the matter
80 as soone as the match att bowles is done."
the porter tooke the pore man by the hand,
& ledd him before the noble-man :
he kneeled downe vpon his knees,
84 & these words to him sayd then :
" & you be Sir 'King,'''' then said the pore man,
" you are the goodly est ffellow that euer I see ;
you haue soe many I[i]ngles Iangles about yee,
88 I neuer see man weare but yee."
" I am not the King" the Nobleman said,
" although I weare now a proud cote."
" & you be not King, & youle bring me to him,
ffor youv reward He giue you a groat."
92
96
100
" I thanke you, Sir," saith the Noble-man,
" jour reward is soe great, I cannott say nay ;
He hirst goe know our Km^s pleasure ;
till I come againe, be sure that you stay."
" here is such a staring," said the pore man,
" I thinke the King is better heere then in our
country e ;
I cold haue gone to ffarmost nooke in the house,
Neither Ladd nor man to haue troubled mee." [ pag e 4-2G]
the noble-man went before our Kinge,
soe well hee knew his curtesye,
" there is one of the rankest clownes att yo«r gates
104 that euer Englishman did see.
THE TOllE MAN AND THE KINGE.
201
" he calles them knaues your hignes keepe,
with-all hee calls them somewhatt worsse,
he dare uot come in w/thout a longe stafFe,
108 hees ffeard lest some bankrout shold pike his pursse.
" lett him come in," then said our King,
" lett him come in, and his staffe too ;
weele see how he can answer eueiy matter
112 now the match att bowles is done. 1 "
the Noble-man tooke the pore man by the hand,
& led him through chambers and gallery es hye :
" what does our K.mg with soe many empty houses,
116 & garres them not ffilled with corne and hay ? "
& as they went through one alley,
the nobleman soone the "King did spye ;
" yond is the King," the noble-man sayd,
120 " looke thee, good Bellow, yond hee goes by ! "
"belike hee is some vnthrifft," said the pore man,
" & he hath made some of his clothes away."
" now hold thy tounge," said the Nobleman,
124 " & take good heed what thou dost say."
the weather itt was exceeding hott,
& our JLmg hath Laid some of his clothes away ;
and the
King
answers " let
him come
in."
The pooi-
man
ask? why
the King
doesn't
fill his
empty
rooms with
corn and
hay,
and on being
shown
the King,
won't
believe it is
he,
& when the noble-man came before our K.huj,
128 soe well hee knew his curtesie,
the pore man ffollowed after him,
gaue a nodd with his head, & a becke w/tli his
knee :
"& if you be the king," then said the pore man,
152 " as I can hardly thinke you bee,
this goodly ffellow that brought mu hither,
seemes liker to be a "King then yee."
and tells
him the
nobleman
Looks mors
like a king
than he
doi .
Joo. — Dyce.
202
TJIE PORE MAN AND THE KINUE.
But the
King saj s lie
is king,
and the poor
man tells
him how
the lawyer,
because he
has cut
down 5 ash
trees,
wants to
make him
forfeit his
lease,
" I am tlie K.mg, & the 'King indeede ;
136 lett me thy matter vnderstand."
then the pore man ffell downe on his knees :
" I am jour tennant on jour owne good Land,
" & there is a Lawyer dwells me by,
140 a ffault in my lease, god wott, hee hath found,
& all is for ffelling of 5 ashe trees
to build me a house in my owne good ground.
" I bade him lett me & my ground alone,
1 44 & cease himselfe, if that hee was willing,
& pike no vantage out of my Lease ;
he seemed a good ffellow, I wold giue him 40 1 ? -
" 40* nor 401'
148 wold not agree this lawer and mee, 1
unless he'll without I wold giue him of my farme ground,
some of his & stand to his good curtesye.
land.
" I said, ' nay, by fay, that wold I not doe ;
152 ffor wiffe & children wold make madd warke ;
& hee wold lett me & my ground alone,
he seemed a good ffellow, I wold giue him 5 marke.' '
"Have yon
your lease V '
says the
King.
" Here it is
if you can
read it."
" What if I
can't ? "
" My boy of
13 can."
" but hast thou thy Lease eene thee vppon,
156 or canst thou shew to mee thy deede ? '
he pulled itt fforth of his bosome,
& saies, " heere my Leege, if you cann reeade."
" what if I cannott ? " then sayes our King,
160 " good ffellow, to mee what hast thou to say ? "
" I haue a boy att home, but 13 yeere old,
will reede itt as ffale gast as young by the way.'
Lines 1 17 and 118 arc written as ono in the MS. — F.
THE POKE MAN AND THE KINGE.
203
" I can neuer gett these knotts Loose," then said our
â– JLing ;
164 hee gaue itt a gentleman stood liim hard by.
" thats a proud horsse," then said the pore man,
" that will not carry his owne prouentye ;
" & yee paid me 5* rent as I doe yee,
168 I wold not be to proud to loose a knott ;
but giuet me againe, & He loose itt for ye,
soe that in my rent youle bate mee a groate."
an l old man tooke this Lease in his hande,
172 & the "Kings maiesty stoode soe,
" He warrant thee, pore man, & thy ground,
if 2 thou had ffallen 5 ashes more. 3 "
" Alas to-day ! " then said the pore man,
176 " now hold jour tonge, 4 & trouble not mee ;
hee that troubles me this day with, this matter,
Cares neither for jour warrantts, you, nor mee."
" He make thee attachment, ffoole," hee sayes, [page 427]
180 " that all that sees itt shall take thy port,
vntill hee haue paid thee a 100 h
thoust tye him to a tree that hee cannott start."
" I thanke you, Sir," said the poreman then :
184 " about this Matter, sith you haue beene willingc,
& seemed to doe the best you canri,
with all my heart He giue you a shillinge."
" a plaugc on thy knaues hart ! " then said our Kmg,
188 " this mony on my skin 5 Lyes soe cold."
he fflang itt into the Kings Bossome,
because in his hand he wold itt not hold.
" I can't
read it,"
says the
Kiug.
" More
shamo to
you," says
the poor
man ;
" I'll read it
for you if
you'll let me
off Ad. rent !"
The King
tell? him
he'll war-
rant him his
ground.
"Warrant!
the lawyer
don't care
for you or
your war-
rants."
" Well
then," says
the King,
"tie the
lawyer up to
a tree till he
pays you
100/."
"Thank
you, that'll
do,
and I'll give
you 1»."
which he
throws into
the King's
bosom.
1 the— F.
- i.e. even if.—
3 moe. — Dyce.
Skc;tt.
* Another letter blotched with e follow;
in the MS.— F.
* MS. skim.— F.
204
The King
gives him
100/.
THE PORE MAN AND THE KINGE.
the K.mg called his tresurer,
192 saies " count nie downe a 100 1 ' —
since lie hath, spent mony by the way, —
to bring him home to his owne good ground."
when the 100'/ was counted,
196 to receiue itt the pore man was willing :
"if I had thought you had had soe much siluer &
gold,
you shold not haue had my good shilling."
When the
poor man
comes
home,
the lawyer
asks him
where he
has been.
the Lawyer came to welcome him
200 when hee came home vppon a Sunday :
" where haue you beene, Neihbor ? " hee sayes,
" methinkes you haue beene long away."
'• To the
King,
" I haue beene att the ~King" the poore man said.
204 " & what the deuill didest thou doe there ?
cold not our neihbors haue agreede vs,
but thou must goe soe ffarr ffrom heere ? '
" there cold no neighbors haue agreed thee & me,
who's told 208 nor halfe soe well haue pleased my hart ;
up e tniyou° U vntill thou haue payd mee a 100 U ,
l'oo/. 1 " 6 He tye thee to a tree, thou cannott start."
The lawyer
pays the
money.
when the 100" was counted,
212 to receiue itt the poreman was most willing ;
& for the paines in the Law hee had taken,
hee wold not giue him againe one shilling."
May God
serve all
lawyers so,
and let us
live in
peace
god send all Lawyers thus well serued !
216 then ' may pore ffarmers Hue in rest. 2
god blesse & sane our noble Kinge,
& send vs all to Hue in peace !
flinis.
MS. them.— F.
ease.-
-Dycc.
205
Mx : loinx Sutler *
In a u Booke of Survey of the Baronye of Warintori in the
countie of Lancaster, Parcell of the possessions of the Eight
Honorable Bobert Erie of Leicester, baron of Denbigh," as taken
ou the 19th of April in the twenty-ninth year of "our Soverein
Queen Ladye Elizabeth. " (1587) we find the following description
of Bewsey Hall :
The Mannerhowse of Bewsey is situate on the west side of the
Town and Lordship of Warrington, and is a mile distant from
Warrington Town, and is the South East side of Bewsey Park. The
house is environed with a fair mote, over which is a strong draw-
bridge. The house is large, but the one half of it being of very old
building, is gone to decay, that is to say, the Hall, the Old Buttery,
the Pantry, Cellars, Kitchen, Dayhouse and Brewhouse, which can
not be sufficiently repaired again without the charge of 100/. The
other half is of new building and not decayed, being one great cham-
ber, four other chambers or buildings, a kitchen, a buttery, and also
three chambers and a parlour of the old building are in good repair.
There is also an old chapel, but much decayed. The seat of the
manorhouse with the garden and all the rest of the grounds within
the mote containeth 3 roods 20 perches. . . .
The park is three measured miles about ; almost the one half of
it is full of little tall oaks, but not underwood. It is indifferent well
paled about. There is in it little above six score deer of all sorts; the
soil of the park is very barren.
The park and demesne lands together contained 304 acres
large measure = 644 statute.
The family of Botyller, Boteler, and many other variations of
spelling, becoming Butler in the reign of Henry VII"., was seated
at Warrington in the time of Henry III. A William Butler
was then in ward to Earl Ferrars, and sometime about 12B)
206 SIK IOHN BUTLER.
bought the manor of Burton wood from Eobert de Ferrariis. 1
Here be built Bewsey Hall, and thereafter took the style of
Butler of Bewsey instead of Butler of Warrington.
It is not intended to go into the family history of the Butlers*
As lords of various manors held in cajpite, they had to lead their
retainers in the Welsh and Scotch wars ; and Froissart has a
characteristic narrative of the rescue of John Butler of Bewsey
by Sir Walter Manny in the French campaign in 1342. 2 This
seems to have been the prosperous time of the family. A priory
of Hermit Friars of St. Angustin in Warrington was probably
founded by them towards the close of the thirteenth century.
The chancel of the parish church dates about 1360. Sir John
Butler rebuilt Warrington Bridge, which had been washed away
by floods, 1364. Pie seems also to have founded the Butler
Chantry in the church. 3 His grandson, another Sir John, died
about 1432, leaving a son a year old, and a widow Isabella,
whose petition to Parliament may be seen in the Kotuli Parlia-
mentorum. 4
Seven years after her husband's death she was forcibly carried
away from Bewsey Hall by one William Poole, gent, of Liverpool,
" in her kirtle and smok " to Birkenhead — another petition says
the wild parts of Wales — and there compelled to enter into a
forced marriage. What the end of it was we are not told, but
her son John grew up and married, first Anne Savile, and secondly
Margaret Stanley, sister of the first Lord Stanley, and widow of
Sir Thomas Troutbeck. Here we come into much entanglement.
Some accounts make Lady Margaret the wife of Troutbeck after
her marriage with Lord Grey. Sir John Butler had two sons
— William by Anne Savile, and Thomas by Margaret Stanley.
William died about the time of his coming of age, and Thomas
finally succeeded as heir in the year 1482. Sir John died in
1462, and he seems to have been the hero of the ballad, of the
1 Gent. Mag. Dec. L863, p, 755. 3 Lancashire Chantries. (CTieth. Sec),
Froissart, vol. ii. p. 9, cap. 86. p. 67. 4 Rot. Pari. iv. 497-8.
2
SIR IOII.N BUTLER. 207
traditions of the neighbourhood, and of the narrative of Dods-
worth.
The Old Church, as it is al\va} 7 s called by the inhabitants, the
High Church of Warrington as named in the ancient charters,
seems even then to have lost the name of the saint to whom it
was dedicated — St. Elphin — in Domesday Book. It has been re-
built within the last few years, and consisted then (1860) of a nave,
north and south transepts (private chapels), chancel and central
tower. The chancel and tower arches were good decorated work
of about 1360. The north transept was the chapel connected
with Bewsey Hall, and had the name of the owners — the Athertons.
In the sixteenth century it was the Butler Chapel or Chantry.
It contained in the centre a magnificent altar tomb, apparently of
the time of Edward IV., which still exists. 1 The lord and lady
are recumbent, life-size, he in armour, and the sides of the tomb
are ornamented with statuettes in relief of various saints, but
there is no inscription, nor any appearance of there ever having
been one. In an arch in the north wall of the chapel was a
monument, in black marble, of a recumbent female ; and to the
east of this, in the position usually ascribed to the founder, was a
cinquefoiled arch which held a stone coffin, the contents of which
had disappeared before the chapel was pulled down. This chapel,
except the cinquefoiled arch, was of late perpendicular work, and
most likely built by the widow of Sir Thomas Butler 1520-30.
The name of the Butlers had vanished from their resting place,
but the memory of the lord and lady and their unfortunate end
was handed down from generation to generation in connection
with this monument, no doubt receiving additions or suffering
mutilation according to circumstances.
The tale, as generally told, was that certain of the lord's
enemies bribed his steward, and that the faithless servant placed
1 The whole of the chapel has been preserved: the only part of the old pile
pulled down, but the tombs have been Left is the chancel.
208 SIR IOIIN BUTLER.
a light at a window over the hall door, to give notice to the
assassins, who crossed the mote and found the door open. They
made their way to the lord's chamber, and were met and opposed
l>y a negro servant, who fell in defence of his master, whose
murder soon followed. The heir, a baby, was carried by the
nurse in her apron, covered with chips, out of the house, under
the pretence that she was going to light a fire. Two large dark
patches on the oaken floors, one in a narrow passage leading to
the lord's room, the other within the room, near the door, were
left as evidence to all following time, and it was said that every
room on that floor, the second, was more or less stained with
blood.
A new servant had always to get accustomed to the visits of
an apparition, a rattling of chains along the narrow lobby, and
three raps at the bedroom door at midnight, till use made the
tiling pass as a matter of course. The traitor steward was pro-
mised great exaltation, and they hanged him on an oak as they
came awa} 7 through the park. A tree pointed out as the in-
felix arbor was cut down some forty years ago. 1
Such was the tale sixty years ago. It had, perhaps, been
modified by being introduced as an episode in a poem published
with Dodsworth's account in 1796, the first effort of the author
of the interminable epic Alfred — Mr. John Fitchett. Pennant,
who travelled after the middle of last centuiy, heard that both
the lord and lady were slain ; and a century before that, Roger
Dodsworth had taken the pains to put in writing what he had
heard, and his narrative is still in the Bodleian Library.
Dodsworth's account is as follows: — When King Henry VII.
came to Latham, the Earl of Derby sent to Sir John Butler, who
was his brother-in-law, to desire him to wear his cloth for a
1 This tree was certainly not so old as made its appearance when trouble or
the time of Elizabeth. As an attendant change was impending; it is said to
spirit (on the domain however, more than have been seen within the present cen-
its lords) was a white rabbit, which tury.
SIR JOHN BUTLER. 209
time — a request which the Lady Butler answered with great
disdain. This gave rise to great malice on the part of the Earl,
which was increased hy various other matters, till, with the
assistance of Sir Piers Legh and William Savage, they corrupted
his servants and murdered him in his bed. His lady, who was
in Iiondon, dreamed that night that Bewsey Hall swam with blood.
She indicted twenty men for the murder; but after marrying
Lord Gfrey, he made her suit void. Upon which she left him
and came back into Lancashire, and said, ' If my lord will not
help me, that I may have my will of mine enemies, yet my body
shall be buried by him,' and caused a tomb of alabaster to be
made, where she lyeth upon the right hand of her husband Sir
John Butler. The faithful servant was the chamberlain named
Holcroft, and the traitor was his brother ; the porter at the hall,
whom the assassins hanged in the park.
Dodsworth's tale, no doubt, represents the tradition as it
existed in the middle of the seventeenth century, but it is alto-
gether at variance with facts. During the whole of the reign of
Henry VII. the lord of Bewsey was Sir Thomas Butler, who suc-
ceeded (as already stated) to the estate in 1482, and died in 1522.
He certainly went quietly to his rest, after providing amply for the
foundation of a grammar school in Warrington. His father, Sir
John, according to the Inquisitio Post Mortem still extant in
the Bodleian Library, died in 1463, leaving besides Thomas,
who succeeded, a brother William, ten or twelve years older.
They were wards to the king, and the younger one is said to
have been of the Stanley blood ; in fact, there are documents
still in existence showing the interest Lord Stanley and his son
Lord Strange took in the latter just before the battle of Bosworth
Field. 1 But not a tittle of evidence has turned up to show that
there was any murder at all. The record of the outrage on the
previous Lady Butler is given in the Kotuu Parliame.ntoru.u,
1 Unit. Mag. Sqt. 1: 03.
VOL. III. I'
210 SIR IOHN BUTLER.
but every thing connected with the murder of the last Sir John
seems to have vanished like Macbeth's witches. There had
certainly been bad blood between the Leghs and Butlers for
some generations, which continued for two or three generations
after ; and this Sir Piers Legh of the tale is said to have been
compelled to build a church at Dishley, near Lyme, to expiate
the sruilt he had incurred in the bloodshed. His monumental
brass, where he is represented as wearing a priest's robes over
his armour, is still to be seen in Win wick Church ; and as he died
in 1-527, aged 65, he could only have been an infant at the date
of Butler's death. It seems out of the question to connect Lord
Stanley, Butler's brother-in-law, with it ; and nothing is known
about William Savage. As to the blood-marks, that portion of
Bewsey Hall is not older than the sixteenth century, and was most
likely the part described in the " Surveye " as having been then
newly built, so that we meet only with phantom evidence, which
we can neither grasp nor realise.
Whether the Lord Grey was of Codnor, of Groby, or de
Ferrariis is uncertain; and it is doubtful whether Lady Margaret
Butler was the widow of Troutbeck when she married Sir John,
or whether, as another account states, she married Troutbeck for
her third husband.
We believe no other copy of this ballad is known. It is in a
fragmentary state, and no doubt a good deal of it is wanting ; the
language too has been modernised ; but the peculiar account of
Lady Butler's absence from home, and " her good brother John,"
clearly the first Stanley of Alderley, would lead to the supposition
that it was written soon after the murder, by one who was ac-
quainted with the family, and before L.ord Stanley was made
Earl of Derby. The introduction of Ellen Butler as Sir John's
daughter, may have been a mistake, or put, euphonioi gratia,
for the real name Alice, who would have been fourteen or fifteen
at the time. Sir John is represented as nephew to Stanley,
which must have been incorrect ; it may, however, be from the
SIR IOHX BUTLER.
211
ballad-maker's confusion of ideas, as Lady Butler afterwards calls
Stanley her brother.
The end of the Butlers was sad enough, but we have no space
for it here. Descendants in the female line are still in existence,
and a keen genealogist might trace them to our own time ; but
their place knows them no more, the very name is forgotten, and
when the fine altar tomb was opened some years ago, a very few
mouldering bones and the fragment of a heavy two-handed
sword were all that it contained.
The knight was dust,
His good sword rust,
His soul is with the saints we trust.
(J. ROBSON.)
1)LTT word is come to warrington,
& Busye hall is laid about ;
S/r Iohn Butler and his merry men
4 stand in ffull great donbt.
Busye Hall
is sur-
rounded,
and Sir J.
Butler in
danger.
when they came to Busye hall
itt was the merke ! midnight,
and all the bridges were vp draw en,
and neuer a candle Light.
At midnight
his takers
come :
12
there they made them one good boate,
all of one good Bull skinn ;
WiUlniii Sauage was one of the ffirst
that euer came itt within.
on a bull-
skin boat
hoe sayled ore his merrymen
by 2 and 2 together,
& said itt was as good a bote
16 as ere was made of lether.
cross over
the moat.
1 merke, dark; MS. may be merle. — F.
p2
212
SIR IOHN BUTLER.
Ellen Butler
rouses her
father.
His uncle
Stanley is
there.
20
" waken you, waken you, deare ffather !
god waken you within !
for lieere is jour vnckle standlye
come your kail w/tkin."
No money
will save
him.
" if that be true, Ellen Butler,
tkese tydings you tell mee,
a 100 V in good redd gold
24 tkis nigkt will not borrow mee."
Ellen comes
down to the
hall.
then ! came downe Ellen Butler
& into ker ffatkers kail,
& tken came downe Ellen Butler,
28 & skee was laced in pall.
" Where is
your
father? "
" Gone to
London,
I swear."
" wkere is thy ffather, Ellen Butler ?
haue done, and tell itt mee."
" my ffather is now to London ridden,
32 as Christ shall haue paH of mee."
" No, he is
not;
we must
have him."
" Now nay, Now nay, Ellen Butler,
ffor soe itt must not bee ;
ffor ere I goe fforth of this hall,
36 yowr ffather I must see."
[page 428]
They search, the sought that ball then vp and downe 2
theras Iohn Butler Lay 2 ;
the sought that hall then vp and downe
40 theras Iohn Butler Lay ;
find him,
44
ffaire him ffall, litle Holcrofft !
soe Merrilyc he kept tke dore,
till that kis kead ffrom his skoulders
came tumbling downe tke ffloore.
1 MS. them.— F. in the MS., but they are marked with a.
2 These two lines only of the four are bracket and bis. — F.
SIR IOHN BUTLER.
213
" yeeld thee, yeelde thee, Iohn Butler !
yeelde thee now to mee ! "
" I will yeelde me to rny vnckle Stanlye,
48 & neere to fFalse Peeter Lee."
and summon
him to yield.
" a preist, a preist," saies Ellen Butler,
" to housle and to shriue !
a preist, a preist," sais Ellen Butler,
5:* " while that my father is a man aliue ! "
"A priest to
shrive my
father," says
Ellen.
then bespake him will/Vim Sauage, —
a shames death may hee dye ! —
sayes, " he shall haue no other preist
56 but my bright sword and mee."
" No priest
but my
sword," says
Savage.
the Ladye Butler is to London rydden,
shee had better haue beene att home,
shee might haue beggd her owne marryed LorcZ
60 att her good Brother Iohn.
Lady Butler
is in
London.
& as shee lay in leeue London,
& as shee lay in her bedd,
shee dreamed her owne marryed LorcZ
64 was swiminnge in blood soe red.
She dreams
that her
lord swims
in blood,
shee called vp her merry men all
long ere itt was day,
saies, " wee must ryde to Busye hall
68 w/th all speed that wee may."
calls up her
men
and rides
homeward.
shee mett w/th 3 Kendall men
were ryding by the way :
" tydings, tydings, Kendall men,
72 I pray you tell itt mee ! "
She moot s
Kendal men,
and asks
tidings.
214
SIR IOIIN BUTLER.
" John
Butler is
slain."
She turns
back to
London,
and prays
the King
to kill her
lord's three
slayers.
" What ! 3
for 1 ?
No. Do you
niarrv Lord
Gray."
" heauy tydings, deare Madam !
ffrom you wee will not Learie, 1
tlie worthyest K.niyht in merry England,
76 Iohn Butler, Lord ! liee is slaine ! ' :
" ffarewell, ffarwell, Iolm Butler !
ffor tliee I must neuer see.
fFarewell, ffarwell, Busiye hall !
SO for thee I will neuer come nye."
Now Ladye Butler is to London againe,
in all the speed might bee ;
& when shee came before her prince,
84 shee kneeled low downe on her knee :
" a boone, a boone, my Leege ! " shee sayes,
" ffor gods lone grant itt mee ! "
" what is thy boone, Lady Butler 2 ?
88 or what wold thou haue of mee 2 ? "
" what is thy boone, Lady Butler?
or what wold thou haue of mee ?
" that ffalse Peeres of Lee, & my brother Stanley,
02 & william Sauage, and all, may dye."
" come you hither, Lady Butler,
come you ower this stone ;
wold you haue 3 men ffor to dye,
9G all ffor the losse off one ?
" come you hither, Lady Butler,
with all the speed you may ;
if thou wilt come to London, LacZ// Butler,
100 thou shalt goe home Lady Gray."
ffinis.
1 O. N. leina, to conceal. — F. Leone How far south it extends I don't know,
is a Cheshire pronunciation for layne, con- but about Frodsham it is very peculiar,
ceal. This provincialism occurs in tho — Dr. Robson.
previous stanza, where way rhymes to vice, 2 These two lines are bracketed, and
and elsewhere in the ballad (1. 83-8). marked Us in the MS. — F.
215
mm i £>trtoart & M)in
We know of no other copy of this capital ballad.
The scene is in North Britain. The subject is the winning of
the Earl of Mar's daughter by William Stuart of Adlatts Park
(wherever that may be) — the winning, but not the wooing. The
wooing is done by his brother John. It requires much tact and
dexterity, and in this respect, though not in age, John has the
advantage-
William he is the elder brother,
But John he is the wiser man.
William generally takes to his bed — -
— into care-bed leaps he (see w. 9, 188)
when his passion runs high, or any scheme for crowning it with
its object's possession fails. John sets forth to "propose" and
" arrange" in his behalf. This giving of wit and importance to
the younger brother is perhaps a Norse element. Such a com-
pensation for the disadvantages of juniority, so to speak, is very
commonly made in the Norse tales, (see e.g. Dasent's Popular
Tales from the Norse).
The incidental pictures and allusions to manners and customs
are highly interesting; as to the kiss of courtesy (v. 139), to
football matches (v. 105), to the beating of daughters (v. 171),
to the Dole day (v. 262), the Beggar's dress and equipment
(v. 241 etseq., vv. 312, 313).
Football matches had not unfrequently, as here, a second
object — not often, perhaps, so pacific a one as here. "The war-
like convocations [of the borderers]," says Scott, "were frequently
disguised under pretence of meetings for the purpose of spoil.
216
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
The game of football in particular, which was anciently and
still continues to be a favourite border sport, was the means of
collecting together large bodies of moss-troopers previous to any-
military exploit. When Sir Robert Carey was warden of the
East Marches, the knowledge that there was a great match at
football at Kelso, to be frequented by the principal Scotch
riders, was sufficient to excite his vigilance and his apprehension.
Previous also to the murder of Sir John Carmichael, it appeared
at the trial of the perpetrators that they had assisted at a grand
football meeting where the crime was concerted."
Alas! my
love won't
love me I
I sing of
Will Slew-art
and John.
Will takes
to his bed
for love of
the Earl of
[page 429]
Mar*s
daughter.
John asks
him what ho
mourns for ;
Void
or a girl ?
ADLATTS : parke is wyde and broad,
& grasse growes greene in our countrye ;
eche man can gett the lone of his Ladye,
4 but alas, I can gett none of mine !
itts by 2 men I sing my song,
their names is william Stewart and Iohn :
wilKom he is the Elder brother,
8 but Iohn hee is the wiser man. 1
but willmm he is in carebed Layd,
& for the lone of a ffaire Ladye ;
If he haue not the loue of the Erie of Mars daughter,
12 in ffaith ffor loue that he must dye.
then Iohn was sorry ffor his brother,
to see him lye and languish soe :
" what doe you mourne for, brother ? " he saies,
1G "I pray you tell to me jour woe.
" doe [you 2 ] mourne for gold, brother ? " he saies,
" or doe you mourne ffor ffee ?
or doc von mourne for a like-sonic Ladye
20 you ncuor saw her with your eye?"
num. F
you.
WILL STEWART AND IOHX.
217
24
"I doe not mourne for gold," lie saies,
" nor I doe not mourne for any ffee ;
but I doe mourne for a likesome Ladye,
I neere blinke on her w/th mine eye."
"A beautiful
lady." .
" but â– when haruest is gotten, my decre brother,-
all this is true that I tell thee, —
gentlemen, they loue hunting well,
28 & giue wight men their cloth & ffee ;
" Well, after
harvest,
when allow-
ances are
given out,
" then He goe a wooing ffor thy sake
in all the speed that 1 can gone,
& for to see this Likesome Ladye,
32 & hope to send thee good tydings home."
I'll go
wooing for
you, Will,
and hope to
send you
good news."
Iohn Stewart is gone a wooing for his brother
soe ffarr into ffaire Scottland,
& left his brother in mikle ffeare
3C vntill he heard the good tydand. 1
So John
goes
& when he came to the Erie of Mars his house,
soe well he could his curtesye,
& when he came before the Erie,
40 he kneeled Low downe vpon his knee.
" rise vp, rise vp, Iohn Steward !
rise vp, now, I doe bidd thee ;
how doth thy ffather, Iohn Stewart,
44 & all the Lords in his country e ? "
to the Earl
of Mar,
kneels down
to him.
" & itt please you, my Jjord, my ffather is dead,
my brother & I cannott agree,
my brother & I am ffallen att discoid,
48 & I am come to craue a service of thee."
and says,
" M> father's
dead; my
brother and
1 can't
agree ; take
me into your
service."
i.e. tidings. — P.
~ '
' '■-■!•
I- •-.,•• .-f-
. .^_ -r _ - — " _a~
- : - , _j*
Till 5
II ■£
— _. _
:
: . _
:^v- '. Doe *r —
- _ .. .
i v~ ~~r - .
i
:
â– : "
.„.--
_ - : - '
-. - - -. -- - m
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
219
•• lie is a Lord now borne by birth,
& an Erie ati'ter his fl'ather doth dye ;
his haire is yellow, his eyes beene gray ;
80 all this is true that I tell yee.
"he is ffine in the middle, & small in the wast,
& pleasant in a womans eye ;
it more nor this, he dyes for your Louo,
84 Therfore, Lady, show some pittye." [page430]
that hia
r, an
Earl,
yellow-
iiaircd,
grey-eyed,
small-
vaisted.
is dying for
her love.
" If this be soe," then saies the Lady,
" If this be true that thou tells mee,
by my ffaith then, Iohn Stewart,
88 I can loue him hartilye.
" bidd him meete me att S' Patr[i]ekes Church
on Sunday after S' Andrews day ;
the fflower of Scottland will be there,
& then begins our summers play.
" & bidd him briug w<'th him a 100 gunners,
& rawnke l ryders lctt them bee,
it lett fchem bee of the rankest ryders
or, that be to he Sound in that country
She say
she can love
him,
and he is to
meet her
at their
Summer
Games,
with H I
gunners,
" they 3 best & worst, & all in Like,
bidd him cloth them in one Liuerye ;
& ffbr his men, green (j is the 1"
100 &. greene now lctt their liueryes bee;
clad iill in
green,
132 [of ' Line
from 527, I. 298 of
rolume] where it is ranke ryders.
. ] >
, and in the plural n
, rink up & down ; di
eirenmire, from Belg. nncken, flectere.
] Pag. I .'5 7, L 15 : The fiut< mennis
. 'I he I.' men.
L38. 18, 32, I end, The
end of the Com-,'. So Pag. 193. 52,
Solisque viae is rendered The Sonnys
renke, M. 6. 796. So Mn. 7. 802,
queril ih r. lekia hie renk, Nil. rank
nder is still us, â– I in Leicestershire, &
Hignifii - .i I.' en eager rider, one thai dol b
pare horse-flesh. P.
to be made over an rl,
],. ill of which is left. — F.
1 the. P.
220
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
himself in
scarlet,
104
" & clothe hiinselfe in scarlett redd,
thai is soe seemlye ffor to see ;
ffor scarlett is a ffaire Coulonr,
& pleasant allwayes in a womans eye.
and then
win
most of the
Iti games.
" he must play sixteene games att ball
against the men of this countrye,
& if he winn the greater part
108 then I shall [Love] l him more tenderlye."
John writes
all this to
his brother
Will.
Will leaps
out of bed,
what the Lady said, Iohn Stewart writt,
& to Argyle Castle sent it hee ;
& 2 [when] Willie steward saw the letter,
112 fforth of care-bed then Lope hee.
musters his
223 men,
hee mustered together his merry men all,
hee mustered them soe louelilye,
hee thought hee had had scarson halfe a ] GO'. 1
116 then had hee 11 score and three.
chooses the
100 best,
clothes them
in green,
he chose fforth a 100 of the best
that were to be ffound in that countrye,
he cladd them all in one Coulour,
120 & greene I- wis their liueryes bee.
himself in
scarlet,
he cladd himselfe in scarlett redd,
that is soe seemelye ffor to see ;-
ffor scarlett is a ffaire coulor,
124 & seemlye in a womans eye ; —
and goes to
St. Patrick's
Church.
& then towards Patrioke Church he went
with all his men in braue array,
to gett a sight, if he might,
128 & speake with his Lady gay.
1 Love is written in the MS. by a later
liaiul between then and /. -F.
2 When.— P.
"WILL STEWART AND IOILN.
221
when they came to Patrickes churche,
shee kneeled downe by her mother trulye :
" Mother, if itt please you to giue me leane,
132 the Stewarts horsse ffaine wold I see."
" He giue you leaue, my deere daughter,
& I and my maide will goe wt'th yee : "
the Lady had rather haue gone her selfe,
136 then haue had her mothers companye.
His Lady
asks
her mother
to let her go
and see
the Stewarts.
when they came before Willie Steward,
soe well hee cold his curtesye,
" I wold kisse your daughter, Ladye," he said,
140 " & if yottr will that soe itt bee."
the Ladyes mother was content
to doe a straunger that curtesye ;
& when willie had gotten a kisse,
144
I- wis shee might haue teemed him 3. 1
When they
pee Will,
he asks for a
kiss from the
daughter.
She agrees,
and Will
takes it.
16 games were plaid that day there, —
this is the truth as I doe say, —
willie stewart & his merry men,
148 the carryed 12 of them away.
& when they games that they were done,
& all they ffolkes away were gone
but the Erie of Marrs & William Stewart,
152 & the Erie wold needs haue Wilh'am home.
lie plays 16
games,
and wins 12
of them.
The Earl of
Mar asks
him home.
& when they came vnto the Erles howse,
they walked to a garden greenc ;
ffor to confferr of their bussines,
156 into the garden they be gone. 2
1 deemed it 3.— P. given him 3: row or team: teamian, to produce, pro-
teem, to pour out ; to unload a cart; to pagate. Bosworth. — F.
cause, contrive. Halliwell. A..-S.te&m, a I weene [added by] — P.
issue, offspring, anything following in ;i
222
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
[page 431]
Will asks
him for his
daughter.
"God
forbid,"
says the
Earl;
"I'd sooner
hang you
or burn
you.
Go to your
room, girl,
in the
devil's name,
or I'll beat
you."
Will says
he'd better
not,
160
" I loue jour daughter, " saies william stewart,
" but I cannott tell whether she loueth mee."
" Marry, god defend," saies the Erie of March,
" that euer soe that itt shold bee !
" I had rather a gallowes there was made,
& hange thee ffor my daughters sake ;
I had rather a ffyer were made att a stake,
1 64 & burne thee ffor my daughters sake !
" to chamber, to chamber, gay Ladye," he saies,
" in the deuills name now I bidd thee !
& thou gett thee not to the Chamber soone
168 He beate thee before the Stewarts eye."
& then bespake wilh'am stewart,
. these were the words said hee,
" if thou beate thy daughter for my sake,
172 thoust beate a 1001 men and mee. 1 '
and John
rebukes him
for his
discourtesy.
176
then bespake Iohn stewart, —
Jjord ! an angry man was hee, —
" O Churl e, if thou wouldest not haue macht with
my brother,
thou might 2 haue answerd him curteouslye."
The Earl
threatens
John with
loss of
180
service.
" Hang your
service,"
says John ;
"I hold to
my brother."
184
l
MS. nee
" hold thy peace, Iohn Stewart,
& chamber thy words now, I bidd thee ;
if thou chamber not thy words soone,
thoust loose a good service ; soe shalt thou doc me."
"Marry! hang them that cares," saies Iohn Stewart,
"either ffor thy service or ffor thee !
services can I haue enoughc,
but brethren wee must cucr bee."
— F. 2 Two strokes for the i in the MS. -F.
WILL STEWART AND IOIIN.
223
188
â– wVliam Stewart & his brother Iohn,
to Argyle Castle gon they bee ;
& when willye came to Argyle Castle,
into carebedd then lope hee.
Tlie brothers
go back to
Argvle
Castle,
and Will
takes to his
bed again.
A Parlaiment att Edenborrow was made,
the King & his Nobles all mett there ;
the sent ffor wilKeww stewart & Iohn,
192 to come amongst l the other peeres.
A parlia-
ment
is held at
Edin-
burgh.
Will and
John go,
their clothing was of scarlett redd,
that was soe seemelye ffor to see ;
blacke hatts, white ffeathers plewed 2 with gold,
196 & sett all on their heads trnlye.
gaily clad.
their stockings were of twisted silke,
with garters ffringed about with gold,
their shoes were of the Cordevine, 3
200 & all was comelye to behold.
& when they came to Edenborrowe,
they called ffor Iohn Steward & Willie :
I answer in A 4 Lorc?s roome," saies will Stewart,
204 " but an Erie I hope to bee."
Will is
called, and
answers as
a Lord.
208
" come downe, come downe," saies the Lort? of Mars, The Earl of
" I knew not what was thy degree."
Mai says ho
didn't know
his rank
" churle, if I might not haue macht with, thy before.
daughter,
itt had not beene long of my degree.
1 The MS. has four strokes for the m.
— F.
2 Perhaps pleitcd, ph'tcd, i.e. plaited
or plated. — P. Fr. plier, to plait, plie,
bend, tunic, wrie. Cotgrave. — F.
' Cordovine, i.e. Cordwane, Spanish,
or Cordovan Leather, from Cordova, in
Spain. Johns. — P.
* MS. L.— F.
224
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
Will answers
that he's the
King's
nephew, and
fit to match
with the
Earl's
daughter.
" my ffather, liee is the Kwig his brother,
& then the K.ing is vnckle to me ;
Churle, if I might not haue macht with, thy
daughter,
212 itt had not beene long of my degree."
The King
says he'll
216
" hold jour peace," then sayd the ~Kmg,
" Cozen william, I doe bidd thee ;
infaith, Cozen wilh'am, he loues you the worsse
because you are a-kinn to mee.
make Will
an Earl,
John a Lord,
"He make thee an Erie with a siluer wan.de,
& adde more honors still to thee ;
thy brother Ihon shall be a Lord
220 of the best att home in his countrye.
and their
brother
Christopher
a Knight.
" thy brother Kester l shalbe a 'Knight,
lands & liuings I will him giue,
& still hee shall Hue in Court with mee,
224 & He maintaine him whilest he doth Hue."
& when the parlaiment was done,
& all the ffolkes away w T ere gone,
willye stewart & Iohn his brother,
228 to Argyle Castle they be gone.
Will and
John go
home,
and Will
falls love-
sick again.
but when they came to Argyle Castle
That was soe flfarr in that Countrye, 2
he thought soe much then of his lone,
232 that into carebedd then lope hee.
[page iS-2]
John
promises to
go wooing
once more
for him,
Iohn Stewart did see his brother soe ill :
Jjord ! in his heart that hee was woe ;
" I will goe wooing for thy sake
23G againe yonder gay Ladye to.
1 cp. Kester Norton, vol. ii. p. 212,
1. 61.— F.
2 Perhaps West Country, but it is
North Country below. — P.
WILL STEWAltT AND IOHN.
225
240
" lie cloth my sclfe in strange array,
in a beggars liabbitt I will goe,
that when I come before the Erie of March
my clothing strange he shall not knowe."
clad as a
beggar,
Iohn hee gott on a clouted cloake,
soe meete 1 & low then by his knee,
with 4 garters vpon one Legg,
244 2 aboue, & towe below trulye.
with four
garters on
one leg.
" but if thou be a beggar, brother,
thou art a beggar that is vnknowne ;
ffor thou art one of the stoutest beggars
248 that euer I saw since I was borne.
Will
" heere, geeue 2 the Lady this gay gold ringe,
a token to her that well is knowne ;
& if shee but aduise itt well,
252 sheele know some time itt was her owne."
gives him]
a gold ring
to show to
his lady luve.
" stay, by my ffaith, I goe not yett,"
Iohn steward he can replye ;
" lie haue my bottle null of beere,
256 the best that is in thy buttery e ;
"lie haue my sachell ffilld full of meate,
I am sure, brother, will doe noe harme ;
ffor, before I come to the Erie of Marrs his house,
260 my Lipps, I am sure, they wilbe warme."
& when he came to the Erie of Marrs house,
by chance itt was of the dole day ;
but Iohn cold ffind no place to stand
264 vntill he came to the Ladye gaye.
John fills his
bottle with
beer, *
his satchel
with meat,
and foes to
the Uarl of
Mar's on
Distribution
Day.
John gets
near the
lady,
1 A.-S. 'micle and mate' greal and Gloss, to Piers Plowman's Crede. — F.
small: Guthlao, 1. 24, ed. (in in. Skeat's - here give. — P.
Mil,. III. Q
226
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
268
but many a beggar be tbrew downe,
and made tbem all with weeping say,
"he is the devill, bee is no beggar,
that is come fforth of some strange countrye ! "
and after the
doles are
given,
& now the dole that itt is delte,
& all the beggars be gon away
sauing Iohn Stewart, that seemed a beggar,
272 & the Ladye that was soe gay.
tells her
who he is.
" Lady," sais Iohn, " I am no beggar,
as by my clothes you may thinke that I bee ;
I am yo?(r servant, Iohn stewart,
276 & I am sent a messenger to thee."
She asks " but if thou be Iohn stewart,
as I doe thinke that thou bee,
avayle 1 thy capp, avayle thy hoode,
280 & I will stand & speake to thee.
how Will is.
"Ill, through
you."
She weeps,
and says
she'll meet
Will at
Martirjgs-
dale In three
days.
" how doth thy brother, Iohn stewart,
& all the Lords in his countrye ? "
" ffye vpon thee, wicked woman !
284 my brother he doth the worsse ffor thee."
With that the teares stood in her eyes ;
. lord ! shee wept soe tenderlye ;
sais, " ligg the blame vnto my ffather ;
lays the
blame on her 288 I pray you, Iohn steward, Lay itt not to mee
father,
"contend me to my owne true loue
that liues soe farr in the North countrye,
& bidd him meete me att Martingsdale
292 ffullye w[i]thin these dayes 3.
' pull down, from Fr. a vat. — F.
WILL STEWART AND IOIIN.
227
296
" hang tliem," sais the Lady gay,
" that letts their 1 ffather witting bee !
lie proue a Ladye ffull of loue,
& be there by the sunn be a quarter highe.
" & bidd hini bring with him a 100? gunners, 2
& ranke riders lett them bee,
lett them be of the rankest ryders 3
300 that be to be ffound in that Countrye.
" Let him
bring 100
gunners
with him,
" the best & worse, & all in like,
bidd him clothe them in one liuerye ;
& for his men, greene is the best,
304 And greene now lett their Lyueryes bee ; fpage 433]
clad all in
green,
" & cloth himselfe in Scarlett Redd,
that is soe seemelye for to see ;
for scarlett is a ffaire Coulor,
308 & pleasant in a womans eye."
while he's in
scarlet."
what they Lady sayd, Iohn steward writt,
to Argyle Castle sent itt hee ;
his bagg & his dish, & showing borne,
312 vnto 3 beggars he gaue them all 3.
John sends
this message
to Will.
& when willie stewart saw the Letter,
fforth of carebed then Lope hee ;
he thought himselfe as lustye & sound
316 as any man in that countrye.
he mustered together his menymen all,
he mustered them soe louinglye ;
he thought he had had scarce halfe a 100,i,"
320 then had hee 11 score and three.
Will jumps
out of bed,
musters his
l".':; men,
1 my. — F. ili'' other for the s of this word in the
- »/'in place of nn in the MS.— F. MS.— F.
3 Two or three Letters appear one over
ft 2
22*
WILL STEWART AND IOHN.
chooses the
100 best,
and posts to
Martings-
dale.
There his
love
meets him,
324
lie chose fforth a 100 d of the best
that were to be found in that companye,
& presentlye they tooke their horsse,
& to martingsdale posted hee.
& when he came to Martingsdale,
he found his loue staying there trulye,
for shee was a Lady true of loue,
328 & was there by sunn was a qwarter highe.
kisses him
and John,
shee kisst wilKam stewart & his brother Iohn,
soe did shee part of his merry men :
" if the Churle, thy ffather, hee were here,
332 he shold not haue thee backe againe."
marries him,
goes home
with him,
they sent ffor preist, they sent ffor Clarke,
& they were marryed there with speede ;
William tooke the Lady home * with him,
336 & they liued together long time indeed.
and is soon
great with
child.
John goes
to the Earl
of Mar.
& in 12 monthe soe they wrought,
the Lady shee was great with childe;
the sent Iohn stewart to the Erie off Marre
340 to come & chr[i]sten the barne soe milde.
The Earl
hopes Will
has married
his
daughter.
"And if this be soe," sayes the Erie of Marre,
" Iohn stewart, as thou tells mee ;
I hope in god you haue marryed my daughter,
344 & put her bodye to honestye."
No, he
hasn't, says
John,
and he'll send
her home to
you.
348
" Nay, by my ffaith," then saies Iohn stewart,
" ffor euer alas that shall not bee ;
ffor now wee haue put her body to shame,
thoust haue her againe hame to thee."
// instead of m in the MS. — F.
WILL STEWA15T AND IOIIN.
229
352
" I had rather make thee Erie of Marre,
& marry my daughter vnto thee ;
for by my ffaith," sais the Erie of Man-,
"her marryage is marrd in our countrye."
" I'd rattier
you marry
her then,
and I'll
make you
Earl o'f
Mar."
"if this be soe," then sais Iohn stewart,
" a marryage soone that thou shalt see ;
ffor my brother william, my ffathers heyre,
356 shall marry thy daughter before thine eye."
"No, Will
'11 marry
her."
they sent ffor preist, the sent ffor Clarke,
& marryed there they were with speed ;
& william stewart is Erie of Marr,
360 & his ffather-in-Law dwells with him indeed.
So Will does,
and is Earl
of Mar.
ffinis.
230
^oto tlK Springe fe romr
This ballad is in the Koxburghe Collection, vol. i. p. 200, entitled
"A Lover's desire for his best beloved ; or, Come away, come away,
and do not stay. To an excellent new Court tune.'''' Having
been printed by the assigns of Thomas Symcocke, the Koxburghe
copy of the ballad must be of the reign of James I., says
Mr. Chappell, who prints the tune of it on pages 464-5 of his
Popular Music, vol. ii. "The rhythm of the first part of the
tune is peculiar, from its alternate phrases of two and three bars,
but still not unsatisfactory to the ear." The date assigned to the
ballad by Mr. Chappell, he confirms by the fact that Christinas' 8
Lamentation — a piece like in character to our In olde times
•paste — is to be sung to the tune of Now the Spring is come,
and was itself written during the latter part of the reign of
Elizabeth, or that of James I., as the } T ellow starch then in
vogue is mentioned in it.
It needs almost an effort now to realise how great the change
must have been from the winter of Early and Middle England —
with their ill-built and chimneyless houses, their scarcity of fuel
and seldom-changed food, their wretched roads, — to the glad
light green of spring, its sun, its song of birds, and all its
heavenly brightness. The impression which the spring made
on Chaucer is seen often in his works, and was, I believe, a
deeper one than the season has made on any subsequent poet.
But still to all poets and men the time has been, and is, one of
joy ; to all lovers one specially of love. Nature's current then
sets that way : why should not her loveliest work go with it ?
"Fairest faire, then turn to thy love ! " sings our song-writer.
"Who of us does not hope that she did ? — F.
NOW THE SrRINGE IS COME.
231
now spring s
come, turn
to thy love !
JN O W" the spring is come, turne to thy loue, to thy loue, Dearest
to thy loue, to thy loue, without delay !
where the mowers spring, & birds doe singe
their sweete tunes : jj : Jf : doe not stay !
where I shall mil thy lapp w/th mowers,
& couer thee wrth shady bowers.
Come away, Come awaye, Come away !
Come away, & doe not stay !
12
Shall I languish still for 1 thy loue,
still ffor thy loue : jj : }f : w/thout releffe ?
shall my ffaith soe well aproued
now dispayre : j : fl : with my greeffe ?
where shall vertue then be ffound
but where bewtye doth abound ? Come away ! &c.
[page 434] Let me not
languish.
Leave ine
not to
despair !
mora heere hath made a bedd ffor my loue,
1 6 ffor my loue : ft : }{ : of roses redd.
Phebus beames to stay are bent,
ffor to yeeld : jf : ff : my loue content,
& the pleasant Eglantine
20 m[i]xt 2 with a 1000 mowers fine. Come away ! &c.
Here is a bed
for thee
of roses
and
eglantine.
24
Hearke ! the Nightingale 3 doth singe
ffor my loue : &c : the woods doe ringe.
Pan, to please my loue, allwayes
pipethe there : &c : his round* â– Lives.
& the pleasant rushye brookes,
& euery mower, for my loue lookes. Come away ! &c.
The nightin-
gale sings for
tin e.
Bewtyes Queen with all her traine
28 * doth attend : &c : my loue vpon the plaine ;
Venus waits
for thee,
1 Shall I si ill Langwtsh for.— P,
- mixt. — P.
3 Mightingale in the .MS.
1 attends. — P.
232
NOW THE SrillNGE IS COME.
the Muses
play for thee;
32
trippinge Satyres clancinge moue
delight : &c : my bewtyous loue
the muses nine, with mnsicke sweete
doe all attend, my loue to meete. Come away ! &c.
then turn to
thy love !
ffairest ffaire ! then turne to thy loue,
to thy loue : &c : that looues thee best !
lett sweete pittye moue ! grant loue for loue
36 like the doue : &c : let our loue for euer rest !
crowne my desires we'th a 1000'? ioyes !
Come away! thy loue reuiues, thy hate destroyes. Come away! &c.
ffin[is].
233
£o$iuortI) ffriltrc* 1
Tins is one of many pieces celebrating that great event which
gave the land rest from its generation-long succession wars.
The following version of the song was produced, as the last
line shows, in the reign of James I. Bat the original compo-
sition may well belong to an earlier period. There is a certain
air of greater antiquity about many passages of it. Alliterative
•verses abound, as vv. 47, 48, 55, 147, 148, 175, 176, 199, 211,
212, 214, 218, &c. &c.
The passage relating the narrow escape from execution of
Lord Strange occurs also in Lady Bessy. Perhaps the earliest
account of that peril is given by the continuer of the Croyland
Chronicle in the following words
Denique crescentibus indies rnmoribus
quod Regis rebeiles adventum suum in
Angliam maturant & accelerant; Rex
a hi em dubius in quo portu applicare in-
tending, id enim per nullos exploratores
sibi certitudinaliter afferri potuit; se
transfert versus Aquilonem, parum ante
fi'stum I'i nhcisfcs; relicto domino de
Lovell Camerario suo prope Suthamp-
toniam, ul classem suam ibi diligenter
instruat, ut omnes porlus illanim par-
tium fida observet custodia, ut ipsos
hostes si inibi applicare curarent, coadu-
natis viribus omnium circum ineolen-
tium, debellare non pr:etermitterct.
Perditis illic sub hac non necessaria
politia victualibus & pecuniis ***...
quo Rex tot expensas faceretur, unde
non falleret sequivocationem vocabuli
portus illius, qui a multis pro eonim
descensu describebatnr. Aiunt aliqui
esse portum in partibus Suthamptonice
ap])i'liatum Mi'/ordiam, sicut est in
Wallia. Et quia nonnulli quasi essent
prophetieo spiritu praditi, praedixerunt
homines istus in portu de MUford appul-
suros, consueveruntque prophetise liu-
jusmodj non in fatnosiori sed in alio
ssepissime ejusdem noniinis loco suam
sortiri effectum: Praeterea visus est Rex
tot propugnacula in ilia Australi parte
Regni hoc tempore constituisse. Sed
1 written in ///e Time ul' .lame,- ]*:', see
lasl Line. Either the Author of this &
of the Sung in Page 464 [of the MS.
Ladyc Bessiye, p. 321 below] is the same,
or one of them has copied almost ver-
batim fro/« ihe other. Sec Page 441
ec s.<|" s Tlna-e is a sung of latter date
on this Subject in the, printed Collection
12".'" Vol. ;) ; ! p. 47, N. G.— P.
234
BOSWOItTII FEILDE.
frustra. Illi enim primo die Augusti in
nominatissimo illo portu Milford juxta
Pembrochiam prospero statu, nulla in-
vcnta resistentia, applicuerunt.
Gavisus estRex,audito eorum adventu,
seu saltern gaudere dissimulavit, scribens
ubique, jam sibi diem venisse desidera-
tum, quo de tam exili comitiva facile
triumphaturus, s\ibjectos a modo indubi-
tatse pacis benefieiis recomfortet. Interea
mandata terribilia multiplicibus literis
ad omnes Regni comitatus dirigit, ne
ulli hominum, eorum saltern quotquot ad
aliquas in Eegno hsereditates nati sunt,
bellnm futurum detractent, cum ea in-
terminatione, quod quicunque post ob-
tentam victoriam inveniretur in aliqua
parte Regni, ei in campo prsesentialiter
non abstitisse, nihil aliud speraturi sunt,
quam bona omnia, possessiones, & vitam
amittere.
Parum ante istorum hominum appul-
sum, Thomas de Stanley, senescallus hos-
pitii Regis, accepta licentia, ut in patriam
suam Lancastrian, domum & familiam
suam, unde diu aberat visnrus, transiret,
non aliter ullam ibi moram trahere per-
mittebatur, nisi filium suum primogeni-
tum, Georgimn dominum Lcstrangc, Not-
ingkamiam ad Regem loco suo transmit-
teret; quod & fecit. Deinde hominibus
istis, ut pra;fertur, apud Milfordiam
Walliee appulsis, facientibusque iter
suum per aspera & indirecta partium
Borealium illius Provincial ;ubiJri/fcZ»»fs
Stanley frater ejusdem Domini Senescalli,
utpote Camerarius de Northwales, singu-
lariter praesidebat : niisit Rex ad dictum
dominum de Stanley, ut omni postposita
mora, sese Regis conspectui apud Koting-
hamiam pra-sentaret. Timuit enim Rex
id quod accidit, ne mater dicti Comitis
Richmund'ue, quam dictus domiuus de
Stanley habuit in uxorem, maritum ad
partes filii tuendas induceret. Ille autem
mirabili .... pestem sudatorium
qua laborabat allegans, venire non potuit.
Filius autem ejus qui clanculum a Rego
discessum paraverat, discoopertus ab
insidiis capitur, conjurationem suam &
patrui sui WUUel/mi Stanley supradicti,
simul & Johannis Savage Militutn, ad
partes Comitis Richmundies defensandas,
a peril, misericordiam postulat, promittit-
que patreni suum cum omni potent ia in
Regis auxilium quam citissime adventu-
ruin. Et super hoc, periculum in quo
erat, simul cum desiderio hujusmodi
praestandi auxilii, literis suis patri do-
nunciat.
Interim dictis duobus aliis Militibus
pro proditoribus Regis apud Coventriam
& alibi publice denunciatis, festinanti-
busque inimicis, ac dirigentibus vias
suas die ac nocte recte in faciem Kegis :
opus erat omnem exercitum, licet non-
dum integro congregatum, a Notinghamia
dimittere, venireque ad Leicest riant.
Ibique compertus est numerus hominum
pugnatorum ex parte Regis major quam
antea visus est unquam in Anglia pro
una parte. Die autem Dominico ante
festum Bartholomew Apostoli, Rex max-
ima pompa diadema portans in capite,
cum Duce Norfolchia? Johanne de Howard,
ac Henrico Percy Comite Northnrnbrice,
ceterisque magnificis Dominis, Militibus,
& armigeris, populariumque multitudine
infinita, opidum Leicestrense egressus,
satis per intercursores edoctus, ubi hostes
sequenii nocte de verisimili manere role-
bant, ad octo miliaria ab eo opido dis-
tantia, juxta Abbathiam de MirivaU.
castra metatus est.
Majores autem exercitus adversantis
hi erant: imprimis Henricus Comes do
Richmond, quem illi suum Regem Hen-
ricum septimum appellabant ; Johannes
Vere Comes Oxoniee, Johannes Wellys
dominus de Wellys, avunculus Regis
Henrici septimi, Thomas dominus de
Stanley & Willielmus frater ejus, Ed-
wardus Widevyll frater Elizabeth Reginse,
valentissimus miles, Johannes Cheyne,
Johannes Savage, Robertus Willoughby,
Willielmus Berkeley, Jacobus Blunt,
Thomas Arundell, Richardus Egecombe,
Edwardus Ponyngs, Richardus Gilford,
& alii plures, tam ante hanc turbat ion-
em, quam in isto ingressu belli, militari
online insigniti. De Ecclesiasticis vero
affuerant consiliarii, qui simile exilium
perpessi sunt, venei^abilis Pater Petrua
Episcopus Exoniensis, flos militia? patriae
sua?, Magister Robertas Moreton Cleriru.s
Rotulorum Cancellaria?, Crystoferus Urs-
wyJc, & Johannes Fox, quorum alter Elee-
mosynarii alter Secretarii offieiutn postea
consccutus est, cum aliis multis.
Mane die I/wrus, illucescente aurora,
cum nou essent Capellani de parte Regis
Richardi parati ad celebrandum, neque
ji ntaculum ullum paratum, quod Regis
tabescentem animum refocillaret ; illeque,
BOSWOItTII FEILDE.
235
ut asseritur, ea nocte terrenda sorania
quasi multitudine daemonum circunlatus
esset, viderat, sicut de mane testatus
est ; faciem uti semper attenuatam, time
magis discoloratam & mortiferam prae
se tulit, affirmans quod hujus hodierni
belli exitus, utrivis parti victoria con-
cessa fuerit, Eegnum Angl'ue penitus
distruet : & expressit ruenteni suam
earn fore, ut si ille victor evadit, omnes
fautores adversae partis confundat : idque
ipsum idem praedicebat, adversarium
suum super benevolos suae partis execu-
turum, si victoria illi succedat. Deiiique
ingre[die]utibus moderato passu Principe
& militibus partis adversae super exer-
citum Regis ; mandavit ille ut praedictus
dominus L strange illico decapitaretur.
Illi autem quibus hoc officium datum
est, videntes ancipitem rem nimis, ma-
jorisque ponderis quam uuius hominis
extermiuium in manibus esse, differentes
crudele Regis mandatum exequi dimi-
serunt hominem suo arbitrio, & ad in-
teriora belli reversi sunt.
Iuita igitur acerrima pugna inter am-
bas partes, Comes Richmundue eum mili-
tibus suis directe super Regem Richard-
um processit : Comes autem Oxonice,
major post eum in tota ipsa societate,
valentissimus miles, in cam alani ubi
Dux Norfolchia eonstitutus erat, magno
tain Gallicorum quam Anglicorum conii-
tatu stipatus tetendit. Iu eo vero loco
ubi Comes NorthumbricB cum satis decenti
ingentique militia stabat, nihil adversi
neque datis neque susceptis belli ictibus
cernebatur. Ad postremum, gloriosa
Dicto [sic] Comiti Richmundue, jam soli
Regi victoria, una cum pretiosissima Co-
rona quam Rex Richardus ante gestavit
in capito, ccelitus data est. Nun inter
pugnaudum, & non in fuga, dictus Iwx
Richardus multis letalibus vulneribua
ictus, quasi Princeps animosus & auden-
tissimus in campo occubuit. Deinde
ptaefato Duco Norfolchue, Richardo Ral-
clyff Milite, Roberto Brakenbury Milite,
Constabulario Turris Londoniarum Jo-
hanncm [sic] Kendall Secretario, Roberto
Percy Milite, Controrotulatore hospitii
Regii, ac Waltero Beveercux Domino de
Ferreis, & multis, maximo Borealibus,
in quibus Rex Richardus adeo confitebat,
[sic] ante ullas consertas manus fugam
ineuntibus : nullae partes dignae sive habi-
les remanserunt, in quas gloriosus victor
Hcnricus Septimus alicujus pugnae ex-
perientiam denuo renovaret. Pace igitur
ex hoc bello uni verso Regno concessit,
inventa [sic] inter alios mortuos corpore
dicto Richardi Regis, . . . Multasque
alias contumelias illatas, ipsoque non
satis humaniter propter funem in collum
adjectum usque ad Leicestriam deportato ;
novus Rex Corona tarn insigniter con-
quaesita decoratus Leicestriam vadit.
Dumque haec ita se haberent, multi
nobiles atque alii in captivitatem redacti
sunt. Atque in primis Hcnricus Comes
NorthumbricB, Thomas de Howard Comes
Surrei, primo genitus dicti defuncti Ducis
Norfolchice: captus est etiam Willvdmus
Catesby, qui inter omnes consiliarios
defuncti jam Regis praeminebat ; cujus
caput apud Leicestriam pro xiltima re-
muneratione tam excellentis officii sui
abscisum est. Duo autem valecti par-
tium occiduarum Regni, pater & filius
sub Brecher vocabulo appellat i , qui post
finitum praelium ad victorum manus de-
venerant, laqueo suspensi sunt. Et cum
neque auditum, neque lectioni aut me-
moriae commendatum est, aliquos alios
post recessum a bello, similibus suppli-
ciis deputatos ; sed Principem hunc no-
vum in omnes suam clementiam impart-
isse ; ccepit laudari ab omnibus, tanquam
Angelas do ccelo missus, per quern Deus
dignaretur visitare plebt-m suam, & libe-
rare earn do malis quibus hactenus af-
flicta est supra modum. — Historia Croy-
landensis Continuatio; Gale, Rerum An-
glicarum Scriptores, torn. i. p. o72-575.
vJOD : that shopc both sea and Land,
& ffoi* all ci'caturcs dyed out tree,
sauu & kocpe the realme of England
4 to liuo in pcaco & tranquillity e !
May Christ
keep
England in
peace !
236
BOSWORTH FEILDE.
We have
cause
to welcome
Henry VII.
Whothought
England
would have
changed
so soon ?
We know
that Henry
VI. was
martyred.
Let us thank
God for
Henry VII.
King
Edward
served Jesus.
St. George, to vs a slieild thou bee !
ffor we haue cause to pray, both old & younge,
wt'th a stedfast hart ffull devatlye,
8 & say, " welcome Henery, right- wise ' Kmg\ "
welcome right- wise K.ing, & Ioy royall,
he that is grounded with grace !
welcome the ffortune that hath befall,
12 w/«'ch hath beene seene in many a place !
who wend 2 that England as itt was,
soe suddenlye changed shold haue beene ?
therfore lett vs thanke god of his grac e,
16 & say " welcome Henery, right- wise King ! "
how had wee need to remember, & to our minds
call
how England is transported miraculouslye
to see the great Mischeefe that hath befall
20 sith the Martyrdome of the holy Kmg Henery !
how many lords haue beene deemed to dye,
young innocents that neuer did sinn !
therfore lett vs thanke god hartilye,
24 & say " welcome Henery, right- wise JLmg ! "
some time a E»j raigned in this land,
that was Edward of hye ffelicytyo;
he was dowted & dread, as I vnderstand,
28 through all the nations in Christentye ;
he serued Iesus ffull heartilye :
these examples may be taken by him
w/t/ch hath prt'uailed him 3 with royaltyc
32 to weare the crowne & be our King.
' rightwise, i.e. righteous. — P. A.-S.
rihlrjs. —I 1 '.
- wen'd, ween'd. — P.
3 ? him superfluous, see 1. 39. — F,
BOSWORTII FEILDE.
237
for with tounge I haue heard it told,
when Henery was in a ffar cuntrye,
that 3 times he was bought & sold
36 throughe the might of gold & ffee.
Henry VII.
he serued Iesus ffull hartylye :
this example may be said by him
which, preuailed right royallye
40 to weare the crowne and be our YL'uuj
[page 435] did so too.
they banished him ouer the mood, He was
J banished
ouer the mood & streames gray ;
yett his right in England was good,
44 as herafter know you may.
there was hee banished ouer the ffloode,
& into a strange Land they can him x bring ;
that time Raigned Richard with royaltye, w ^ n . 1T _
& J * ' Richard ill.
48 he ware the crowne & was our Kinge. was king.
that was well seene att streames stray;
att Milford hauen, when he did appeare
with all his Lords in royall array,
52 he said to them that with, him weare :
But he
landed
at Milford
Haven,
" into England I am entred heare,
my heritage is this Land within ;
they shall me boldly e bring & beare,
5G & loose my liffe, but He be King.
" Iesus that dyed on good ffryday,
& Marry mild thats Hull of might,
send me the loue of the LonZ Stanley !
60 he marryed my mother, a Lady bright ; 2
and claimed
his heritage,
to be king.
He prayed
for the
help of
Lord Stanley
1 MS. hin.— F.
2 Lord Stanley (afterwards Earl of
Derby) had marriod as his second wife
the Countess of Richmond, mother of
Henry VII. She was his wife as early
as 1173, if not earlier.- Gr. E. Adams.
238
BOSWORTII FEILDE.
64
" that is long sith I saw lier with sight ;
I trust in Iesu wee shall meete with winne, 1
& I shall maintaine her honor right
ouer all England when I am Kinge.
and his
brother Sir
William,
68
" had I the Lone of that Lord in rich array
that hath proned his manhood soe well att
need,
& his brother S;'r Wilh'am, the good Stanley ; —
a better Knight neuer vmstrode 2 steede !
that noble
knight.
72
" that hath beene seene in mickle dreed :
much was the worshipp that happened him ;
a more nobler Knight att neede
came neuer to maintaine Kinge."
But we'll
talk of
Richard III.
now leaue wee Heneet, this prince royall,
& talke of Richard in his dignitye,
of the great misfortune did him befall :
76 the causer of his owne death was hee.
Wicked
counsellors
ruined him.
wicked councell drew Richard neere,
of them that had the prince 3 in their guiding 4 ;
nor wicked councell doth mickle deere, 5
80 that bringeth downe both Emperour & King.
He con-
demned
to death
Lord
Stanley
who won
Berwick for
him
the hord Stanley bothe sterne & stout, —
he might be called mower of mowers, — man G
dye.
that was well seene without doubt
84 att Barwicke walls with towers hye ;
1 A.-S. win, pleasure. — F.
2 bestrode. — P. mi-, um-, means
' round.' — F.
3 Only half the n in the MS.— F.
4 Four strokes for ui in the MS. — F.
* A.-S. dor, dam, destruction, injury.
— F.
maun, i.e. must. — P.
BOSTVORTII FEILDE.
239
when all the Lords of England let itt bee,
that castle wigktlye can hee whin,
was there euer Lord in England, ffare or nere, 1
88 that did such iorney 2 to his Kinge ?
when no
other Lord
could.
then Richard bade a messenger to ffare
soe ffare 5 into the west countrye
to comfort his knights, sqniers lesse & more,
92 & to set good rule amongst his comintye.
then wicked councell drew Rich [ard] neere :
these were they 4 words they said to him,
"wee thinke yee worke vnwittylye
96 in England, & 5 yee will continue Kdng.
His bad
counsellors
" ffor why, the horcl Stanley is lent 6 in this Land,
the Lord Strange, & the Chamber laine 7 ; these 3
they may show vpon a day a band
100 such as may noe Lorde in Christentye.
told him
Lord Stanley
and others
were too
strong,
" lett some of them vnder jouv bondage bee,
if any worshipp you thinke to winn ;
or else short while continue shall yee
104 In England to he our Kinge."
he must put
them down.'
then they made out messengers with maine & might s <>
" ° messengers
soe ffarr into the west countrye ; ale sent
to the hord Stanley that noble Knight
1G8 they kneeled downe vpon their knee
to Lord
Stanley
1 far or nere, or perhaps neie. — P.
2 A clay's work. — Dyce. Cp. Fr.
Bonne louvwve fait qui air fol se delivre.
Pro. he docs an excellent day's work
that rids himselfe of a foole. Colgrave.
— 1<\
3 far.— P.
4 the.— P.
5 an, if. — F.
6 lend, to dwell, remain, tarry. —
Halliwell.— F.
7 John de Vero, Earl of Oxford, Lord
Chamberlain. — (x. E. A.
240
BOSWORTH FEILDE.
and bid him
come to the
King.
112
& said, " 'Richard that raignes with royaltye,
Emperour of England this day within,
hee longeth you sore, my Lord, to see ;
you must come & speake with our Kinge."
He sets off,
but falls
sick at Man-
chester,
then they Lord husked l him vpon a day
To ryde to King Richard with royaltye, [P a s e 436 1
& hee ffell sicke att Manchester hy the way :
116 as the will of god is, all things must hee.
and sends on
Lord
Strange
to know
Richard's
will.
the Lord strange then called [he] him nee ;
these were the words hee said to him :
" In goodlye hast now ryde must yee
120 to witt the will of Richard, our Kinge."
Lord
Strange
kneels to
Richard,
who
welcomes
him with
kind words
then this Lord bowned ? bini ffull right
to ryde to Kmo Richard hastilye.
when hee came before his souerraigine in sight,
124 he kneeled downe vpon his knee.
" welcome Lord strange, & kinsman nye ! "
these were the words he said to him :
" was ther eeuer any Baron in England of ancetrye 3
128
shold be soe welcome to his Kinge ? "
but fro ward,
heart,
alas that euer he cold soe say,
soe ffroward a hart as hee had vnder !
that was well seene after vpon a day ;
132 itt cast him & his crowne assunder,
& brought his body into bale & blunder,
these wicked words he cold begin ;
thus ffalshood endeth in shame & wonder,
136 whether itt be with Emperour or King.
1 Ltiskrd, i.e. dressed. — P.
'-' 1 i.-ui.i (1. i.e. ] )( jand.- I.
3 ancestry. — P.
liO.sWOKTH FEILDE.
241
of itt heere is no more to say,
but shortly e to ward comanded was liee.
new messengers were made w/thout delay
140 soe ffarr into the west country e
to the hord stnnley soe wise & witty e :
these were the words the sayd to him,
"you must raise those that vnder you bee,
14 4 & all the power that you may bringe ;
and caste
liim into
prison.
Other
messengers
come to
Lord
Stanley,
and say,
"Raise all
your men ;
for
148
" yonder cometh Richmond over the mood
w/th many allyants ' out of ffarr countrye,
bold men of bone and blood ;
the crowne of England chalengeth hee.
"you must raise those that vnder you bee,
& all the power that yee may bringe,
or else the hord strange you must neuer see,
152 which, is in danger of our Kmg."
Richmond is
coming
to claim the
crown ;
or you'll
never see
Lord
Strange
again."
156
In a studye this hord can stand, Lord Stanley
& said, " deere Iesus ! how may this bee? says,
I draw wittenes to him that shope 2 both sea &
land,
that I neuer delt wt'th noe trecherye.
" Richard is a man that hath no mercye ;
hee wold mee & mine into bondage bringe ;
therfore cleane against him will I bee,
160 of all England though hee bee King."
"Richard has
no mercy.
I am
against,
him."
164
then another messenger he did appearc
to wilh'rtm Stanley, that noble Kmght,
Richard"s
messenger
asks Sir
& saith, " 'Richard that weareth the crowne soe Stanley
cleare,
& in his Empire raigneth right,
i.e.
allyants, aliens. — P.
i.e. shaped. — P.
VuL. 111.
It
242
BOSWORTII FEILDE.
to help the
King.
"What!
when he
keeps
my nephew
in hold.
He shall
repent it
sore!
168
" willeth you to bring your power to helpe him to
flight;
ffor all his trust itt is you in."
then answered that gentle Knight,
" I haue great marueill of jour King ;
"he keepeth the [r ] e my nephew, my brothers hey re ; —
a truer knight is not in christentye ; —
that, Richard shall repent flull sore, 1
172 ffor any thing that I can see.
Let him arm
and fight,
and flee or
die.
By Mary and
Christ
I'll make
him
a meal !
" bidd him array him with royal tye
& all the power that hee may bringe ;
ffor hee shall either flight, or fflee,
176 or loose his liffe, if hee bee Kinge.
" I make mine avow to Marye, that may,
& to her sonne that dyed on tree,
I will make him such a breakefast vpon a day
180 as neuer made Knight any King in Cristentye !
Tell him
to fight and
flee or die ! "
184
" tell thou King Richard these words ffrom mee
ffor all the power that he may bringe,
in the ffeild he shall either flight, or fflee,
or loose his liffe or hee be Kinge."
The
messenger
tells Richard
how all the
country
rebel at Lord
then this messenger north hee went
to carry to King RichanZ with royalty e,
& saith, " in yonder country e I haue beenc sent,
188 soe greeued men are not in Christentye
Strange's
imprison-
ment.
He must
fight, or flee,
or die.
" ffor loue of the Lore? strange that in bale doth bee."
these were the words hee sayd to him :
" you must either flight or fflee,
192 or loose your liffe, if you bee Kinge."
1 sair (i.e. sore). — Dycc.
BOSWORTII FEILDE.
243
196
att that King- Richard smiled small,
& sware, " by Iesu ffull of might,
when they are assembled wtth their powers all,
I wold I had the great turke against me to flight,
Richard
swears that,
v» hoever
opposes,
Tpage 437]
" or Prester Iolm in his armor bright,
the Sowdan of Surrey 1 with them to bringe !
yett wrth manhood & with might
200 in England I shold continue Kmg.
he'll still
be king,
" I sweare by Iesu that dyed on a tree,
& by his mother that mayden blythe,
firom the towne of Lancaster to Shrewsburye,
204 'Knight nor squier He leaue none aliue.
he'll leave no
Lancashire
squire alive.
" I shall kindle their cares rifle,
& giue their Lands to my Knights keene ;
many a man shall repent the while
208 that euer they rose against their King.
" ffrom the holy-head to S' davids Land,
where now be towers & castles hye,
I shall make partes & plaine ffeilds to stand,
212 flrythes ffaire, & Sbrrests ffree.
and will lay
waste Wales,
" Ladyes, ' well-away ! ' shall crye ;
widdowes shall weepe, & their hands wringc ;
many a man shall repent that day
216 that euer they rose against their Kinge."
make
widows
weep,
and rebels
rue.
then he made out messengers with maine & might
throughout England ffarr & neerc, 2
to Duke, Erie, Barron, & Knight,
220 & to eucry man in his degree.
He sends
all over
England
for his
nobles,
1 Syria. — Robson,
- noc.
u 2
244
BOSWOIITII FEILDE.
and they
come to
serve their
King:
the Duke of
Norfolk,
the Earls of
Kent,
Shrewsbury,
Lincoln,
North-
umberland,
Westmore-
land :
Lords
Zouch,
Maltravers,
Arundel,
Wells,
Grey of
Codnor,
Bowes,
Audley,
Berkeley,
Ferrers of
Chartley,
Ferrers of
Groby,
Fitzhugh,
Bcrope of
Upsal,
Scro])e of
Bolton,
Daores,
you neuer heard tell of such a companye
att sowte, seege, 1 nor noe gatheringe :
part of their names heere shall yee
224 that came that day to serue their King.
thither came the duke of Norffolke vpon a clay,
& the Erie of Surrey that was his heyre ;
the Erie of Kent was not away,
228 the Erie of Shrewsbury breme 2 as beare.
the Erie of Lincolne 3 wold not spare,
the Erie of Northumberland ready bowne,
the Erie of Westmoreland great othes sware,
all they said Richard shold Keepe his crowne.
232
236
240
244
248
theres was my liord Zouch, sad att assay 4
my ~Lord Mattrevis, 5 a noble 'Knight ;
young Arrundell dight him vpon a day,
the ~Lord wells, both wise and wight ;
the Lore? Gray Cotner 6 in his armour bright,
the Lore? Bowes made him bowne,
the Lou? Audley was ffeirce to ffight,
& all said 'Richard shold keepe his crowne.
there was my Lore? Bartley, sterne on a steede,
the Lore? fferryes of chartlye, the Lore? fferryes of
Strobe,
the Lore? Bartley noble att neede,
chamberlaine of England that day was hee.
the Lore? ffittz Hugh, & his cozen nye,
the Lore? Scroope of vpsall, the Lore? scroope of
Bolton;
the Lore? Dacres raised all the North cuntrye ;
& all said Richard shold keepe his crowne.
1 assault, siege. — F.
'-' MS. brenne. I''.
' .MS. Lincolme. — F.
1 stedfasl in trial. — F.
5 Maltrevers. — P.
,; i.e. Lord Grey of Codnor. — P.
BOSWORTH FEILDE.
24.5
252
There was many nobles mustered to Sight :
the Lord Audley & the Lord Lumley,
the Lore? Gray-stocke ' in his armour bright,
he brought with him a noble companye,
he sware by Iesus that dyed on a tree,
' that his enemyes shold be beaten downe ;
he was not [in] England, ffarr nor neere,
256 that shold lett 2 Richard to weare his crowne.'
there was Sir Iohn Spencer, a noble Knight,
Sir Rapk hare-bottle 3 in rich array,
Sir william ward, alwayes that was wight,
200 Sir Archeobald, the good Rydley ;
Sir Nicholas Moberly was not away,
nor yett Sir Robert of Clotten,
alsoe Sir Oliuer, the hend horsley ;
264 all said Richard shold keepe his crowne.
Lumley,
Greystocke ;
Sirs J.
Spencer,
W. Ward,
N. Moberly,
R. Clutton,
O. Horsley,
there was Sir Henery Percy, 4 sterne on steede, h. Percy,
Sir Roger Bowmer in bis companye,
Sir RichartZ Manners, noble att neede, R- Manners,
268 Soe was Sir Henery the hend Hatteley ; [page 438]
Sir Robert Conway in companye,
Sir Raphe Smyth & Sir Roger Akerston,
& Sir William, his cozen nye ;
272 & all sayd Richard shold keepe his crowne.
There was a noble Knight, Sir Iohn the Gray,
& Sir Thomas of Mountgomerye ;
Sir Rodger Sanfort was not away ;
276 ffrom London came Sir Robert Brakenburye ;
R. Conway,
W. Aker-
ston,
Jn. Gray,
R. Sanfort,
1 Ralph, Lord Greystock, who died in
1487, without male issue, when the
barony became united with thatof Dacre.
— G. E. Adams.
2 hinder. — Itobson.
3 Ilarbottle.— P.
4 S/r Henry Percy. — P.
246
II. Bowdrye,
R. Robbye,
M. Con-
stable,
W. Conyers,
M. Wardley,
R. Rosse,
R. Sturley,
G. Clyfton,
T. North,
H. Stafford,
R. Ryder,
J. Hunting-
ton.
R. Swayley,
W. Staple-
ton.
BOSWORTII FEILDE.
280
S/r Henery Bowdrye was not away,
nor yett S/r 'Richard the good Chorlton ;
S/r Raphe Robbye made him yare ;
all said RichanZ wold keepe his crowne.
there was S/r Marmaduke Constable, a noble ~K.>iiyht,
of K.ing Richards councell hee was nye ;
S/r william Conyous, 1 allwayes that was wight,
284 S/r Robert Thribald w/th his meanye ;
soe was S/r Martine of the wardley,
& S/r Richard the good Hortton,
& S/r Richard Rosse sware smartly e
288 that Kmg RicharcZ shold keepe his crowne.
There was S/r Robert, the sterne Sturley ;
S/r Iohn of Melton, thither Came hee,
Sir Caruis Clyfton 2 in rich array,
292 S/r Henery Perpoint in his degree,
Sir Thomas North w/th royaltye,
& alsoe S/r Iohn of Babington,
S/r Humphrey Stafford sware certainelye
296 that ~ELmg Richard shold keepe his crowne.
there was S/r Robert Ryder, a man of might,
S/r Robert Vtridge in his dignity e ;
S/r Iohn Huntington was ffeirce to ffight,
300 soe was S/r Iohn willmarley.
S/r Robert Swayley with royalltye,
& alsoe S/r Bryan of stableton, 3
& S/r william his cozen nye,
304 & all said Richard shold keepe his crowne.
1 Conyers. — P.
2 SirG-ervase Clyfton.— P.
Sir Bryan Stapleton. — P.
308
BOSWORTII FEILDE.
Tliere was Sir Richard Ratcliffe, a noble "Knight,
of King Richards councell was kee ;
S/r William his brother was ffeirce to flight,
& S/r Thomas, they were brethren 3.
247
R. Ratcliffe,
W. Ratcliffe,
& S/r Richard the Mallinere,
& S/r Iohn the good Hortton,
& S/r Thomas the good Mallynere,
312 & all said Rich[ard] shold keepe his crowne.
There was S/r Raphe Dacres out of the North,
& S/r Christopher the Moresby e l ;
S/r William Musgreaue was stiffe to stand,
316 soe was S/r Alexander ffawne in his dignity e.
R. Mal-
linere,
T. Mally-
nere,
R. Dacres,
W. Mns-
grave, 
