The ground besprinkled was with blood:
Tarquin began to yield;

For he gave backe for wearinesse,
And lowe did beare his shield.

This soone Sir Lancelot espyde,
He leapt upon him then,

He pull'd him downe upon his knee,
And rushing off his helm,

Forthwith he strucke his necke in two,
And, when he had soe done,

From prison threescore knights and four
Delivered everye one.

X. CORYDON'S FAREWELL TO PHILLIS

This is an attempt to paint a lover's irresolution, but so poorly executed, that it would not have been admitted into this collection, if it had not been quoted in Shakspeare's “Twelfth-Night," act ii. sc. 3. It is found in a little ancient miscellany, intitled, "The Golden Garland of Princely Delights," 12mo. black-letter.

In the same scene of the Twelfth-Night, Sir Toby sings a scrap of an old ballad, which is preserved in the Pepys Collection [vol. i. pp. 33, 496.]; but as it is not only a poor dull performance, but also very long, it will be sufficient here to give the first stanza:

If this song of "

Corydon," &c. has not more merit, it is at least an

evil of less magnitude.

FAREWELL, dear love; since thou wilt needs be gone,
Mine eyes do shew, my life is almost done.

Nay I will never die, so long as I can spie
There be many mo, though that she doe goe,
There be many mo, I fear not:
Why then let her goe, I care not.

Farewell, farewell; since this I find is true,
I will not spend more time in wooing you:

But I will seek elsewhere, if I may find love there:
Shall I bid her goe? what and if I doe?

Shall I bid her goe

and spare not?

O no, no, no, I dare not.

Ten thousand times farewell;-yet stay a while :-
Sweet, kiss me once; sweet kisses time beguile:
I have no power to move. How now am I in love?
Wilt thou needs be gone? Go then, all is one.
Wilt thou needs be gone? Oh, hie thee!
Nay stay, and do no more deny me.

Once more adieu, I see loath to depart
Bids oft adieu to her, that holds my heart.

But seeing I must lose thy love, which I did choose,
Goe thy way for me, since that may not be.
Goe thy ways for me. But whither?
Goe, oh, but where I may come thither.

What shall I doe? my love is now departed.

She is as fair, as she is cruel-hearted.

She would not be intreated, with prayers oft repeated,
If she come no more, shall I die therefore?

If she come no more, what care I?
Faith, let her goe, or come, or tarry.

XI. GERNUTUS, THE JEW OF VENICE

In the "Life of Pope Sixtus V, translated from the Italian of Greg. Leti by the Rev. Mr. Farneworth," folio, is a remarkable passage to the following effect:

"It was reported in Rome, that Drake had taken and plundered St. Domingo in Hispaniola, and carried off an immense booty. This account came in a private letter to Paul Secchi, a very considerable merchant in the city, who had large concerns in those parts, which he had insured. Upon receiving this news, he sent for the insurer Sampson Ceneda, a Jew, and acquainted him with it. The Jew, whose interest it was to have such a report thought false, gave many reasons why it could not possibly be true, and at last worked himself into such a passion, that he said, I'll lay you a pound of flesh it is a lie. Secchi, who was of a fiery hot temper, replied, I'll lay you a thousand crowns against a pound of your flesh that it is true. The Jew accepted the wager, and articles were immediately executed betwixt them, That, if Secchi won, he should himself cut the flesh with a sharp knife from whatever part of the Jew's body he pleased. The truth of the account was soon confirmed; and the Jew was almost distracted, when he was informed, that Secchi had solemnly swore he would compel him to an exact performance of his contract. A report of this transaction was

brought to the Pope, who sent for the parties, and, being informed of the whole affair, said, When contracts are made, it is but just they should be fulfilled, as this shall: Take a knife, therefore, Secchi, and cut a pound of flesh from any part you please of the Jew's body. We advise you, however, to be very careful; for, if you cut but a scruple more or less than your due, you shall certainly be hanged."

The Editor of that book is of opinion, that the scene between Shylock and Antonio in "the Merchant of Venice" is taken from this incident. But Mr. Warton, in his ingenious "Observations on the Faerie Queen,” vol. i. page 128, has referred it to the following ballad. Mr. Warton thinks this ballad was written before Shakspeare's play, as being not so circumstantial, and having more of the nakedness of an original. Besides, it differs from the play in many circumstances, which a mere copyist, such as we may suppose the ballad-maker to be, would hardly have given himself the trouble to alter. Indeed he expressly informs us, that he had his story from the Italian writers. See the "Connoisseur," vol. i. No. 16.

After all, one would be glad to know what authority Leti had for the foregoing fact, or at least for connecting it with the taking of St. Domingo by Drake; for this expedition did not happen till 1585, and it is very certain that a play of the JEWE, "representing the greedinesse of worldly chusers, and bloody minds of usurers," had been exhibited at the play-house called "the Bull" before the year 1579, being mentioned in Steph. Gosson's "Schoole of Abuse," which was printed in that year.

As for Shakspeare's "Merchant of Venice," the earliest edition known of it is in quarto, 1600; though it had been exhibited in the year 1598, being mentioned, together with eleven others of his plays, in Merse's "Wits Treasury," &c. 1598, 12mo. fol. 282. See Malone's Shaksp.

The following is printed from an ancient black-letter copy in the Pepys Collection," intitled, "A new Song, shewing the crueltie of Gernutus, a Jewe, who, lending to a merchant an hundred crowns, would have a pound of his fleshe, because he could not pay him at the time appointed. To the tune of Black and Yellow."

Or like a filthy heap of dung,

That lyeth in a whoard;
Which never can do any good,
Till it be spread abroad.

So fares it with the usurer,
He cannot sleep in rest,

For feare the thiefe will him pursue
To plucke him from his nest.

His heart doth thinke on many a wile,
How to deceive the poore;

His mouth is almost ful of mucke,
Yet still he gapes for more.

His wife must lend a shilling,

For every weeke a penny,

Yet bring a pledge, that is double worth,
If that you will have any.

And see, likewise, you keepe your day,

Or else you loose it all:
This was the living of the wife,
Her cow she did it call.

Within that citie dwelt that time
A marchant of great fame,
Which being distressed in his need,
Unto Gernutus came:

Desiring him to stand his friend

For twelve month and a day,

To lend to him an hundred crownes :
And he for it would pay

Whatsoever he would demand of him,

And pledges he should have.

No, (quoth the Jew with flearing lookes)

Sir, aske what you will have.

1 "Her cow," &c. seems to have suggested to Shakspeare Shylock's argument for usury taken from Jacob's management of Laban's sheep, act i. to which Antonio replies:

Was this inserted to make interest good?
Or are your gold and silver ewes and rams?
SHY. I cannot tell, I make it breed as fast.

But we will have a merry jeast,
For to be talked long:

You shall make me a bond, quoth he,
That shall be large and strong:

And this shall be the forfeyture;
Of your owne fleshe a pound.
you agree, make you the bond,
And here is a hundred crownes.

If

With right good will! the marchant says: And so the bond was made.

When twelve month and a day drew on
That backe it should be payd,

The marchants ships were all at sea,
And money came not in;
Which way to take, or what to doe
To thinke he doth begin :

And to Gernutus strait he comes
With cap and bended knee,
And sayde to him, Of curtesie
I pray you beare with mee.

My day is come, and I have not
The money for to pay :
And little good the forfeyture
Will doe you, I dare say.

With all my heart, Gernutus sayd,

Commaund it to

your minde :

In thinges of bigger weight than this
You shall me ready finde.

He goes his way; the day once past
Gernutus doth not slacke

To get a sergiant presently;

And clapt him on the backe: And layd him into prison strong, And sued his bond withall;

And when the judgement day was come, For judgement he did call.

The marchants friends came thither fast,
With many a weeping eye,

For other means they could not find,
But he that day must dye.