and was usually sung to the harp at Christmas dinners and brideales, as we learn from Puttenham's Art of Poetry, 4to. 1589.

This ancient romance is not wholly lost. An imperfect copy in black letter, " Imprynted at London for Wylliam Copland," in 34 sheets 4to. without date, is still preserved among Mr. Garrick's collection of old plays. Asa specimen of the poetry of this antique rhymer, take his description of the dragon mentioned in ver. 105 of the following ballad:

-"A messenger came to the king.
Syr king, he sayd, lysten me now,
For bad tydinges I bring you,
In Northumberlande there is no man,
But that they be slayne everychone:
For there dare no man route,

By twenty myle rounde aboute,

For doubt of a fowle dragon,
That sleath men and beastes downe.

He is blacke as any cole
Rugged as a rough fole;

His bodye from the navill upwarde
No man may it pierce it is so harde;
His neck is great as any summere;
He renneth as swifte as any distrere ;
Pawes he hath as a lyon:

All that he toucheth he sleath dead downe.
Great winges he hath to flight,
That is no man that bare him might.
There may no man fight him agayne,
But that he sleath him certayne:
For a fowler beast then is he,

Ywis of none never heard ye."

Sir William Dugdale is of opinion that the story of Guy is not wholly apocryphal, though he acknowledges the monks have sounded out his praises too hyperbolically. In particular, he gives the duel fought with the Danish champion as a real historical truth, and fixes the date of it in the year 926, ætat. Guy 67.

See his Warwickshire.

The following is written upon the same plan as ballad V. Book I. but which is the original, and which the copy, cannot be decided. This song is ancient, as may be inferred from the idiom preserved in the margin, ver. 94. 102: and was once popular, as appears from Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle, Act 2. sc. ult.

It is here published from an ancient MS copy in the Editor's old folio volume, collated with two printed ones, one of which is in black letter in the Pepys collection.

Was ever knight for ladyes sake
Soe tost in love, as I Sir Guy
For Phelis fayre, that lady bright
As ever man beheld with eye?

She gave me leave myself to try,

The valiant knight with sheeld and speare, Ere that her love shee wold grant me; Which made mee venture far and neare.

Then proved I a baron bold,

In deeds of armes the doughtyest knight That in those dayes in England was, With sworde and speare in fieild to fight.

Ver. 9, The proud Sir Guy, PC.

5

10

An English man I was by birthe:
In faith of Christ a christyan true :
The wicked laws of infidells

I sought by prowesse to subdue.
'Nine' hundred twenty yeere and odde
After our Saviour Christ his birth,
When King Athèlstone wore the crowne,
I lived heere upon the earth.

Sometime J was of Warwicke erle,
And, as I sayd, of very truth
A ladyes love did me constraine
To seeke strange ventures in my youth.

To win me fame by feates of armes

In strange and sundry heathen lands;

Where I atchieved for her sake

Right dangerous conquests with my hands.

For first I sayled to Normandye,

And there I stoutlye wan in fight
The emperours daughter of Almaine,
From manye a vallyant worthye knight.

Then passed I the seas to Greece
To helpe the emperour in his right;
Against the mightye souldans hoaste
Of puissant Persians for to fight.

Where I did slay of Sarazens,
And heathen pagans, manye a man;
And slew the souldans cozen deere,
Who had to name doughtye Coldràn.

Eskeldered a famous knight

To death likewise I did pursue :
And Elmayne King of Tyre alsoe,
Most terrible in fight to viewe.

I went into the souldans hoast,
Being thither on embassage sent,
And brought his head awaye with mee;
I having slaine him in his tent.

There was a dragon in that land
Most fiercely mett me by the waye
As hee a lyon did pursue,
Which I myself did alsoe slay.

221

15

20

25

30

35

40

45

50

85

I overcame him in the feild,
And slew him soone right valiantlye;
Wherebye this land I did redeeme
From Danish tribute utterlye.

And afterwards I offered upp

The use of weapons solemnlye At Winchester, whereas I fought, In sight of manye farr and nye.

But first,' neare Winsor, I did slaye A bore of passing might and strength; Whose like in England never was

For hugenesse both in bredth and length.

Some of his bones in Warwicke yett
Within the castle there doe lye :
One of his sheeld-bones to this day
Hangs in the citye of Coventrye.

On Dunsmore heath I alsoe slewe
A monstrous wyld and cruell beast,
Calld the Dun-cow of Dunsmore heath;
Which manye people had opprest.

Some of her bones in Warwicke yett
Still for a monument doe lye,
And there exposed to lookers viewe
As wondrous strange, they may expye.

90

The Editor found this Poem in his ancient folio manuscript among the old ballads; he was desirous, therefore, that it should still accompany them; and as it is not altogether devoid of merit, its insertion here will be pardoned.

Although this piece seems not imperfect, there is reason to believe that it is only a part of a much larger poem, which contained the whole history of Sir Guy: for, upon comparing it with the common story book 12mo, we find the latter to be nothing more than this poem reduced to prose which is only effected by now and then altering the rhyme, and throwing out some few of the poetical ornaments. The disguise is so slight, that it is an easy matter to pick complete stanzas in any page of that book.

Ver. 94, 102, doth lye, MS.

The author of this poem has shown some invention. Though he took the subject from the old romance quoted before, he has adorned it afresh, and made the story intirely his own.

Guy journeyes towards that sanctifyed ground,
Whereas the Jewes fayre citye sometime stood,
Wherein our Saviours sacred head was crownd,
And where for sinfull man he shed his blood:
To see the sepulcher was his intent,
The tombe that Joseph unto Jesus lent.

With tedious miles he tyred his wearye feet,
And passed desart places full of danger,
At last with a most woefull wight * did meet,

• Erle Jonas, mentioned in the foregoing ballad.

5

A man that unto sorrow was noe stranger: For he had fifteen sonnes, made captives all To slavish bondage, in extremest thrall.

A gyant called Amarant detaind them,

10

Whom noe man durst encounter for his strength: Who in a castle, which he held, had chaind them: 15 Guy questions, where? and understands at length The place not farr.-Lend me thy sword, quoth hee, Ile lend my manhood all thy sonnes to free.

With that he goes, and lays upon the dore,
Like one that sayes, I must, and will come in: 20
The gyant never was soe rowz'd before :

For noe such knocking at his gate had bin :
Soe takes his keyes, and clubb, and cometh out.
Staring with ireful countenance about.

Sirra, quoth hee, what business hast thou heere ? 25
Art come to feast the crowes about my walls?
Didst never heare, noe ransome can him cleere,
That in the compasse of my furye falls:
For making me to take a porters paines,

With this same clubb I will dash out thy braires. 30

Gyant, quoth Guy, y'are quarrelsome I see,

223

Villaine, quoth Amarant, Ile crush thee streight; Thy life shall pay thy daring toungs offence : This clubb, which is about some hundred weight, 75

Is deathes commission to dispatch thee hence: Dresse thee for ravens dyett I must needes; And breake thy bones, as they were made of reedes.

Incensed much by these bold pagan bostes,

Which worthye Guy cold ill endure to heare, 80 He hewes upon those bigg supporting postes, Which like two pillars did his body beare: Amarant for those wounds in choller growes And desperatelye att Guy his clubb he throwes:

Choller and you seem very neere of kin: Most dangerous at the clubb belike you bee; I have bin better armd, though nowe goe thin; But shew thy utmost hate, enlarge thy spight, Keene is my weapon, and shall doe me right.

35

Att last through thirst the gyant feeble grewe,
And sayd to Guy, As thou'rt of humane race, 50
Shew itt in this, give natures wants their dewe,
Let me but goe, and drinke in yonder place:
Thou canst not yeeld to 'me' a smaller thing,
Than to graunt life, thats given by the spring.

I graunt thee leave, quoth Guye, goe drink thy last,55
Go pledge the dragon, and the salvage bore*:
Succeed the tragedyes that they have past,

But never thinke to taste cold water more: Drinke deepe to death and unto him carouse : Bid him receive thee in his earthen house.

60

To understand that thirst constraines thee now;
For all the treasure, that the world containes,
One drop of water shall not coole thy vaines.

Releeve my foe! why, 'twere a madmans part: 115
Refresh an adversarye to my wrong!
If thou imagine this, a child thou art :
Noe, fellow, I have known the world too long
To be soe simple: now I know thy want,
A minutes space of breathing I'll not grant.

180

And with these words heaving aloft his clubb
Into the ayre, he swings the same about:
Then shakes his lockes, and doth his temples rubb,
And, like the Cyclops, in his pride doth strout:

Ver. 64, bulke, MS. and PCC. * Which Guy had slain before.

Sirra, sayes hee, I have you at a lift, Now you are come unto your latest shift.

12

Perish forever: with this stroke I send thee
A medicine, that will doe thy thirst much good;
Take noe more care for drinke before I end thee,
And then wee'll have carouses of thy blood; 130
Here's at thee with a butcher's downright blow,
To please my furye with thine overthrow.

135

Infernall, false, obdurate feend, said Guy,
That seemst a lump of crueltye from hell;
Ungratefull monster, since thou dost deny
The thing to mee wherin I used thee well:
With more revenge, than ere my sword did make,
On thy accursed head revenge lle take.

Thy gyants longitude shall shorter shrinke,
Except thy sun-scorcht skin be weapon proof:140
Farewell my thirst; I doe disdaine to drinke;
Streames keepe your waters to your owne behoof;
Or let wild beasts be welcome thereunto;
With those pearle drops I will not have to do.

For pittyes sake, use wronged women well: 190 Men easilye revenge the wrongs men do; But poore weake women have not strength thereto,

195

The good old man, even overjoyed with this,
Fell on the ground, and wold have kist Guys feete:
Father, quoth he, refraine soe base a kiss,
For age to honor youth I hold unmeete:
Ambitious pryde hath hurt mee all it can,
I goe to mortifie a sinfull man.

The foregoing poem on "Guy and Amarant has been discovered to be a fragment of "The famous historie of Guy earle of Warwicke, by Samuel Rowlands, London, printed by J. Bell, 1649," 4to. in xii cantos, beginning thus:

"When dreadful Mars in armour every day." Whether the edition in 1649 was the first is not known, but the author Sam. Rowlands was one of the minor poets who lived in the reigns of Queen Elizabeth and James I. and perhaps later. His other poems are chiefly of the religious kind, which makes it probable that the history of Guy was one of his earliest performances. There are extant of his (1.) "The betraying of Christ, Judas in dispaire, the seven words of our Saviour on the crosse, with other poems on the passion, &c. 1598, 4to. [Ames Typ. p. 428.]-(2) A Theatre of delightful Recreation. Lond. printed for A. Johnson, 1605," 4to. (Penes editor.) This is a book of poems on subjects chiefly taken from the Old Testament. (3.) "Memory of Christ's miracles, in verse. Lond. 1618, 4to." (4.) "Heaven's glory, earth's vanity, and hell's horror." Lend. 1638, 8vo. [These two in Bod. Cat.]

In the present edition the foregoing poem has been much improved hom the printed copy.

I have not been able to meet with a more ancient copy of this humorous old song, than that printed in the Tea-Table Miscellany, &c. which seems to have admitted some corruptions.

LATE in an evening forth I went
A little before the sun gade down,
And there I chanc't, by accident,

To light on a battle new begun:
A man and his wife wer fawn in a strife,
I canna weel tell ye how it began;
But aye she wail'd her wretched life,
Cryeng, Evir alake, mine auld goodman!

HE.

Why dost thou plein ? I thee maintein; For meal and mawt thou disna want

5

This seems to be the old song quoted in Fletcher's "Knight of the Burning Pestle," Acts 2d and 3d; although the six lines there preserved are somewhat different from those in the ballad, as it stands at present. The reader will not wonder at this, when he is informed that this is only given from a modern printed copy picked up on a stall. Its full title is, "Fair Margaret's Misfortunes; or Sweet William's frighful dreams on his wedding night, with the sudden death and burial of those noble lovers."The lines preserved in the play are this distich, "You are no love for me, Margaret, I am no love for you."

And the following stanza,

"When it was grown to dark midnight,
And all were fast asleep,
In came Margarets grimly ghost
And stood at Williams feet."