NOTES.

CANTO I.

NOTE A.

'As when the Champion of the Lake
Enters Morgana's fated house,
Or in the Chapel Perilous,

Despising spells and demons' force,

Holds converse with the unburied corse.'-P. 9.

THE Romance of the Morte Arthur contains a sort of abridgment of the most celebrated adventures of the Round Table; and, being written in comparatively modern language, gives the general reader an excellent idea of what romances of chivalry actually were. It has also the merit of being written in pure old English; and many of the wild adventures which it contains are told with a simplicity bordering upon the sublime. Several of these are referred to in the text; and I would have illustrated them by more full extracts, but as this curious work is about to be republished, I confine myself to the tale of the Chapel Perilous, and of the quest of Sir Launcelot after the Sangreall.

'Right so Sir Launcelot departed; and when he came to the Chapell Perilous, he alighted downe, and tied his horse to a little gate. And as soon as he was within the churchyard, he saw, on the front of the chapell, many faire rich shields turned upside downe, and many of the shields Sir Launcelot had seene knights have before; with that he saw stand by him thirtie great knights, more, by a yard, than any man that ever he had seene, and all those grinned and gnashed at Sir Launcelot; and when he saw their countenance, hee dread them sore, and so put his shield afore him, and took his sword in his hand, ready to doe battaile; and they were all armed in black harneis, ready, with their shields and swords drawen. And when Sir Launcelot would have gone through them, they scattered on every side of him, and gave him the way; and therewith he waxed all bold, and entered into the chapell, and then he saw no light but a dimme lampe burning, and then was hee ware of a corps covered with a cloath of silke; then Sir Launcelot stooped downe, and cut a piece of that cloath away, and then it fared under him as the earth had quaked a little, whereof hee was afeared, and then he saw a faire sword lye by the dead knight, and that he gat in his hand, and hied him out of the

chappell. As soon as he was in the chappell-yerd, all the knights spoke to him with a grimly voice, and said, "Knight Sir Launcelot, lay that sword from thee, or else thou shalt die." "Whether I live or die," said Sir Launcelot, "with no great words get yee it againe, therefore fight for it and yee list." Therewith he passed through them; and, beyond the chappell-yerd, there met him a faire damosel, and said, "Sir Launcelot, leave that sword behind thee, or thou wilt die for it." "I will not leave it," said Sir Launcelot, "for no threats." "No," said she, "and ye did leave that sword, Queene Guenever should you never see." "Then were I foole and I would leave this sword," said Sir Launcelot. "Now, gentle knight," said the damosel, "I require thee to kiss me once.' 99 66 "Nay," said Sir Launcelot, "that God forbid!" "Well, Sir," said she, "and thou haddest kissed me, thy life daies had been done; but now, alas!" said she, "I have lost all my labour; for I ordeined this chappell for thy sake, and for Sir Gawaine: and once I had Sir Gawaine within it; and at that time he fought with that knight which there lieth dead in yonder chappell, Sir Gilbert the bastard, and at that time hee smote off Sir Gilbert the bastard's left hand. And so, Sir Launcelot, now I tell thee, that I have loved thee this seaven yeare; but there may no woman have thy love but Queene Guenever; but sithen I may not rejoyce thee to have thy body alive, I had hopt no more joy in this world but to have had thy dead body; and I would have balmed it and served, and so have kept it my life daies, and daily I should have clipped thee, and kissed thee, in the despite of Queene Guenever." "Yee say well," said Sir Launcelot, "Jesus preserve me from your subtill craft!" And therewith he took his horse, and departed from her.'

NOTE B.

'A sinful man, and unconfessed,

He took the Sangreal's holy quest,

And, slumbering, saw the vision high,

He might not view with waking eye.'-P. 9.

One day, when Arthur was holding a high feast with his Knights of the Round Table, the Sangreal, or vessel out of which the last passover was eaten, a precious relic, which had long remained concealed from human eyes, because of the sins of the land, suddenly appeared to him and all his chivalry. The consequence of this vision was, that all the knights took on them a solemn vow to seek the Sangreal. But, alas! it could only be revealed to a knight at once accomplished in earthly chivalry, and pure and guiltless of evil conversation. All Sir Launcelot's noble accomplishments were therefore rendered vain by his guilty intrigue with Queen Guenever, or Ganore; and in this holy quest he encountered only such disgraceful disasters as that which follows:

But Sir Launcelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wild forest, and held no path, but as wild adventure led him; and at the last, he came unto a stone crosse, which departed two wayes, in wast land; and by the crosse was a stone that was of marble; but it was so darke, that Sir Launcelot might not well know what it was. Then Sir Launcelot looked by him, and saw an old chappell, and there he wend to have found people. And so Sir Launcelot tied his horse to a tree, and there hee put off his shield, and hung it upon a tree, and then he went unto the chappell doore, and found it wasted and broken.

And within he found a faire altar, full richly arrayed with cloth of silk, and there stood a faire candlesticke, which bears six great candles, and the candlesticke was of silver. And when Sir Launcelot saw this light, hee had a great will for to enter into the chappell, but hee could find no place where he might enter. Then was he passing heavie and dismaied. Then he returned, and came againe to his horse, and tooke off his saddle and his bridle, and let him pasture, and unlaced his helme, and ungirded his sword, and laide him downe to sleepe upon his shield before the crosse.

'And so hee fell on sleepe, and halfe waking and halfe sleeping, he saw come by him two palfryes, both faire and white, the which beare a litter, therein lying a sicke knight. And when he was nigh the crosse, he there abode still. All this Sir Launcelot saw and beheld, for he sleept not verily, and he heard him say, "Oh sweete Lord, when shall this sorrow leave me, and when shall the holy vessell come by me, where through I shall be blessed? for I have endured thus long, for little trespasse." And thus a great while complained the knight, and allwaies Sir Launcelot heard it. With that Sir Launcelot saw the candlesticke, with the fire tapers, come before the crosse ; but he could see no body that brought it. Also there came a table of silver, and the holy vessell of the Sangreal, the which Sir Launcelot had seene before that time in king Petchour's house. And therwithall the sicke knight set him upright, and held up both his hands, and said, "Faire sweete Lord, which is here within the holy vessell, take heede to mee, that I may bee hole of this great malady." And therewith upon his hands, and upon his knees, he went so nigh, that he touched the holy vessell, and kissed it: And anone he was hole; and then he said, "Lord God, I thank thee, for I am healed of this malady." So when the holy vessell had been there a great while, it went into the chappell againe with the candlesticke and the light, so that Sir Launcelot wist not where it became, for he was overtaken with sinne, that he had no power to rise against the holy vessell, wherefore afterward many men said of him shame. But he tooke repentance afterward. Then the sicke knight dressed him upright, and kissed the crosse. Then anon his squire brought him his armes, and asked his lord how he did. "Certainly," said hee, "I thanke God, right heartily, for through the holy vessell I am healed: But I have right great mervaile of this sleeping knight, which hath had neither grace nor power to awake during the time that this holy vessell hath beene here present." "I dare it right well say," said the squire, "that this same knight is defouled with some manner of deadly sinne, whereof he was never confessed." "By my faith," said the knight, "whatsoever he be, he is unhappie; for, as I deeme, hee is of the fellowship of the Round Table, the which is entred into the quest of the Sancgreall." "Sir," said the squire, "here I have brought you all your armes, save your helme and your sword; and therefore, by mine assent, now may ye take this knight's helme and his sword," and so he did. And when he was cleane armed, he tooke Sir Launcelot's horse, for he was better than his owne, and so they departed from the crosse.

Then anon Sir Launcelot awaked, and set himselfe upright, and he thought him what he had there seene, and whether it were dreames or not; right so he heard a voice that said, "Sir Launcelot, more hardy then is the stone, and more bitter then is the wood, and more naked and bare then is the liefe of the fig-tree, therefore go thou from hence, and withdraw thee from this holy place;"

and when Sir Launcelot heard this, hee was passing heavy, and wit not what to doe. And so he departed sore weeping, and cursed the time that he was borne ; for then he deemed never to have had more worship; for the words went unto his heart, till that he knew wherefore that hee was so called.'

NOTE C.

'And Dryden, in immortal strain,
Had raised the Table Round again,

But that a ribald King and Court

Bade him toil on, to make them sport;
Demanded for their niggard pay,

Fit for their souls, a looser lay,

Licentious satire, song, and play.'-P. 10.

Dryden's melancholy account of his projected Epic Poem, blasted by the selfish and sordid parsimony of his patrons, is contained in an 'Essay on Satire,' addressed to the Earl of Dorset, and prefixed to the Translation of Juvenal. After mentioning a plan of supplying machinery from the guardian angels of kingdoms, mentioned in the book of Daniel, he adds :

'Thus, my lord, I have, as briefly as I could, given your lordship, and by you the world, a rude draught of what I have been long labouring in my imagination, and what I had intended to have put in practice (though far unable for the attempt of such a poem), and to have left the stage, to which my genius never much inclined me, for a work which would have taken up my life in the performance of it. This, too, I had intended chiefly for the honour of my native country, to which a poet is particularly obliged. Of two subjects, both relating to it, I was doubtful whether I should choose that of King Arthur conquering the Saxons, which, being farther distant in time, gives the greater scope to my invention; or that of Edward the Black Prince, in subduing Spain, and restoring it to the lawful prince, though a great tyrant, Don Pedro the Cruel; which, for the compass of time, including only the expedition of one year, for the greatness of the action, and its answerable event, for the magnanimity of the English hero, opposed to the ingratitude of the person whom he restored, and for the many beautiful episodes which I had interwoven with the principal design, together with the characters of the chiefest English persons (wherein, after Virgil and Spenser, I would have taken occasion to represent my living friends and patrons of the noblest families, and also shadowed the events of future ages in the succession of our imperial line)—with these helps, and those of the machines which I have mentioned, I might perhaps have done as well as some of my predecessors, or at least chalked out a way for others to amend my errors in a like design; but being encouraged only with fair words by King Charles II., my little salary ill paid, and no prospect of a future subsistance, I was then discouraged in the beginning of my attempt; and now age has overtaken me, and want, a more insufferable evil, through the change of the times, has wholly disabled me.'

NOTE D.

'Of Ascapart, and Bevis bold.'-P. 11.

The History of Bevis of Hampton' is abridged by my friend Mr George

Ellis, with that liveliness which extracts amusement even out of the most rude and unpromising of our old tales of chivalry. Ascapart, a most important personage in the romance, is thus described in an extract :

This geaunt was mighty and strong,
And full thirty foot was long.

He was bristled like a sow;

A foot he had between each brow;

His lips were great, and hung aside;

His eyen were hollow; his mouth was wide;

Lothly he was to look on than,

And liker a devil than a man.

His staff was a young oak,

Hard and heavy was his stroke.'

Specimens of Metrical Romances, vol. ii. p. 136.

I am happy to say, that the memory of Sir Bevis is still fragrant in his town of Southampton; the gate of which is sentinelled by the effigies of that doughty knight-errant, and his gigantic associate.

NOTE E.

Day set on Norham's castled steep,

And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep.'-P. 11.

The ruinous castle of Norham, anciently called Ubbanford, is situated on the southern bank of the Tweed, about six miles above Berwick, and where that river is still the boundary between England and Scotland. The extent of its ruins, as well as its historical importance, shows it to have been a place of magnificence as well as strength. Edward I. resided there when he was created umpire of the dispute concerning the Scottish succession. It was repeatedly taken and retaken during the wars between England and Scotland; and, indeed, scarce any happened in which it had not a principal share. Norham Castle is situated on a steep bank, which overhangs the river. The repeated sieges which the castle had sustained, rendered frequent repairs necessary. In 1164 it was almost rebuilt by Hugh Pudsey, bishop of Durham, who added a huge keep, or donjon; notwithstanding which, King Henry II., in 1174, took the castle from the bishop, and committed the keeping of it to William de Neville. After this period it seems to have been chiefly garrisoned by the king, and considered as a royal fortress. The Greys of Chillinghame Castle were frequently the castellans, or captains of the garrison: Yet, as the castle was situated in the patrimony of St Cuthbert, the property was in the see of Durham till the Reformation. After that period, it passed through various hands. At the union of the crowns, it was in the possession of Sir Robert Carey (afterwards Earl of Monmouth), for his own life, and that of two of his sons. After King James's accession, Carey sold Norham Castle to George Home, Earl of Dunbar, for £6000.-See his curious Memoirs, published by Mr Constable of Edinburgh.

According to Mr Pinkerton, there is, in the British Museum, Cal. B. 6. 216, a curious memoir of the Dacres, on the state of Norham Castle in 1522, not long after the battle of Flodden. The inner ward, or keep, is represented as impregnable: The provisions are three great vats of salt eels, forty-four kine,