XVII.LUCY AND COLIN

'There came a ghost to Margaret's door.'"

The extreme popularity of the poem is seen by the various parodies, one of which,Watty and Madge, is printed in Ramsay'sTeaTable Miscellany(vol. iii.). It commences—

"'Twas at the shining mid-day hour,"

and each succeeding verse is parodied in the same manner. Vincent Browne imitated the original in Latin verse, and a German version was published asWilhelm und Gretchen.Mallet was a native of Crieff in Perthshire, and is believed to have been born in the year 1702. He was sometime tutor to the Montrose family, through whose influence he was introduced into public life. He changed his name from Malloch to Mallet when he settled in London, and in 1742 he was appointed Under Secretary to the Prince of Wales. He died on the 21st of April, 1765. Mallet is a writer little cared for now, but he can hardly be said to be neglected, for in 1857 Mr. Frederick Dinsdale published an illustrated edition of his Ballads and Songs, chiefly made up of copious notes onWilliam and MargaretandEdwin and Emma.]

and each succeeding verse is parodied in the same manner. Vincent Browne imitated the original in Latin verse, and a German version was published asWilhelm und Gretchen.

Mallet was a native of Crieff in Perthshire, and is believed to have been born in the year 1702. He was sometime tutor to the Montrose family, through whose influence he was introduced into public life. He changed his name from Malloch to Mallet when he settled in London, and in 1742 he was appointed Under Secretary to the Prince of Wales. He died on the 21st of April, 1765. Mallet is a writer little cared for now, but he can hardly be said to be neglected, for in 1857 Mr. Frederick Dinsdale published an illustrated edition of his Ballads and Songs, chiefly made up of copious notes onWilliam and MargaretandEdwin and Emma.]

'Twas at the silent solemn hour,When night and morning meet;In glided Margaret's grimly ghost,And stood at William's feet.Her face was like an April morn,5Clad in a wintry cloud:And clay-cold was her lily hand,That held her sable shrowd.So shall the fairest face appear,When youth and years are flown:10Such is the robe that kings must wear,When death has reft their crown.Her bloom was like the springing flower,That sips the silver dew;The rose was budded in her cheek,15Just opening to the view.But love had, like the canker worm,Consum'd her early prime:The rose grew pale, and left her cheek;She dy'd before her time.20"Awake!" she cry'd, "thy true love calls,Come from her midnight grave;Now let thy pity hear the maid,Thy love refus'd to save."This is the dark and dreary hour,25When injur'd ghosts complain;Now yawning graves give up their dead,To haunt the faithless swain."Bethink thee, William, of thy fault,Thy pledge, and broken oath:30And give me back my maiden vow,And give me back my troth."Why did you promise love to me,And not that promise keep?Why did you swear mine eyes were bright,35Yet leave those eyes to weep?"How could you say my face was fair,And yet that face forsake?How could you win my virgin heart,Yet leave that heart to break?40"Why did you say my lip was sweet,And made the scarlet pale?And why did I, young witless maid,Believe the flattering tale?"That face, alas! no more is fair;45These lips no longer red:Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death,And every charm is fled."The hungry worm my sister is;This winding-sheet I wear:50And cold and weary lasts our night,Till that last morn appear."But hark! the cock has warn'd me hence!A long and last adieu!Come see, false man, how low she lies,55Who dy'd for love of you."The lark sung loud; the morning smil'd,With beams of rosy red:Pale William shook in ev'ry limb,And raving left his bed.60He hyed him to the fatal place,Where Margaret's body lay;And stretch'd him on the grass-green turf,That wrapt her breathless clay:And thrice he call'd on Margaret's name,65And thrice he wept full sore:Then laid his cheek to her cold grave,And word spake never more.

'Twas at the silent solemn hour,When night and morning meet;In glided Margaret's grimly ghost,And stood at William's feet.

Her face was like an April morn,5Clad in a wintry cloud:And clay-cold was her lily hand,That held her sable shrowd.

So shall the fairest face appear,When youth and years are flown:10Such is the robe that kings must wear,When death has reft their crown.

Her bloom was like the springing flower,That sips the silver dew;The rose was budded in her cheek,15Just opening to the view.

But love had, like the canker worm,Consum'd her early prime:The rose grew pale, and left her cheek;She dy'd before her time.20

"Awake!" she cry'd, "thy true love calls,Come from her midnight grave;Now let thy pity hear the maid,Thy love refus'd to save.

"This is the dark and dreary hour,25When injur'd ghosts complain;Now yawning graves give up their dead,To haunt the faithless swain.

"Bethink thee, William, of thy fault,Thy pledge, and broken oath:30And give me back my maiden vow,And give me back my troth.

"Why did you promise love to me,And not that promise keep?Why did you swear mine eyes were bright,35Yet leave those eyes to weep?

"How could you say my face was fair,And yet that face forsake?How could you win my virgin heart,Yet leave that heart to break?40

"Why did you say my lip was sweet,And made the scarlet pale?And why did I, young witless maid,Believe the flattering tale?

"That face, alas! no more is fair;45These lips no longer red:Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death,And every charm is fled.

"The hungry worm my sister is;This winding-sheet I wear:50And cold and weary lasts our night,Till that last morn appear.

"But hark! the cock has warn'd me hence!A long and last adieu!Come see, false man, how low she lies,55Who dy'd for love of you."

The lark sung loud; the morning smil'd,With beams of rosy red:Pale William shook in ev'ry limb,And raving left his bed.60

He hyed him to the fatal place,Where Margaret's body lay;And stretch'd him on the grass-green turf,That wrapt her breathless clay:

And thrice he call'd on Margaret's name,65And thrice he wept full sore:Then laid his cheek to her cold grave,And word spake never more.

Waswritten by Thomas Tickell, Esq. the celebrated friend of Mr. Addison, and editor of his works. He was son of a clergyman in the north of England, had his education at Queen's college, Oxon, was under secretary to Mr. Addison and Mr. Craggs, when successively secretaries ofstate; and was lastly (in June, 1724) appointed secretary to the Lords Justices in Ireland, which place he held till his death in 1740.[453]He acquired Mr. Addison's patronage by a poem in praise of the opera ofRosamond, written while he was at the University.

It is a tradition in Ireland, that the song was written at Castletown, in the county of Kildare, at the request of the then Mrs. Conolly—probably on some event recent in that neighbourhood.

[Gray calledLucy and Colin"the prettiest" ballad in the world, although he was not partial to Tickell's other poems.

The fine old melody given by Dr. Rimbault for this ballad is taken from "The Merry Musician; or a Cure for the Spleen; being a collection of the most diverting Songs and pleasant Ballads set to Musick," 1716.]

Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair,Bright Lucy was the grace;Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid streamReflect so fair a face.Till luckless love, and pining care5Impair'd her rosy hue,Her coral lip, and damask cheek,And eyes of glossy blue.Oh! have you seen a lily pale,When beating rains descend?10So droop'd the slow-consuming maid;Her life now near its end.By Lucy warn'd, of flattering swainsTake heed, ye easy fair:Of vengeance due to broken vows,15Ye perjured swains, beware.Three times, all in the dead of night,A bell was heard to ring;And at her window, shrieking thrice,The raven flap'd his wing.20Too well the love-lorn maiden knewThat solemn boding sound;And thus, in dying words, bespokeThe virgins weeping round."I hear a voice, you cannot hear,25Which says I must not stay:I see a hand, you cannot see,Which beckons me away."By a false heart, and broken vows,In early youth I die.30Am I to blame, because his brideIs thrice as rich as I?"Ah Colin! give not her thy vows;Vows due to me alone:Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kiss,35Nor think him all thy own."To-morrow in the church to wed,Impatient, both prepare;But know, fond maid, and know, false man,That Lucy will be there,40"Then, bear my corse; ye comrades, bear,The bridegroom blithe to meet;He in his wedding-trim so gay,I in my winding-sheet."She spoke, she dy'd;—her corse was borne,45The bridegroom blithe to meet;He in his wedding-trim so gay,She in her winding-sheet.Then what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts?How were those nuptials kept?50The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead,And all the village wept.Confusion, shame, remorse, despairAt once his bosom swell:The damps of death bedew'd his brow,55He shook, he groan'd, he fell.From the vain bride (ah bride no more!)The varying crimson fled,When, stretch'd before her rival's corse,She saw her husband dead.60Then to his Lucy's new-made grave,Convey'd by trembling swains,One mould with her, beneath one sod,For ever now remains.Oft at their grave the constant hind65And plighted maid are seen;With garlands gay, and true-love knotsThey deck the sacred green.But, swain forsworn, whoe'er thou art,This hallow'd spot forbear;70Remember Colin's dreadful fate,And fear to meet him there.

Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair,Bright Lucy was the grace;Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid streamReflect so fair a face.

Till luckless love, and pining care5Impair'd her rosy hue,Her coral lip, and damask cheek,And eyes of glossy blue.

Oh! have you seen a lily pale,When beating rains descend?10So droop'd the slow-consuming maid;Her life now near its end.

By Lucy warn'd, of flattering swainsTake heed, ye easy fair:Of vengeance due to broken vows,15Ye perjured swains, beware.

Three times, all in the dead of night,A bell was heard to ring;And at her window, shrieking thrice,The raven flap'd his wing.20

Too well the love-lorn maiden knewThat solemn boding sound;And thus, in dying words, bespokeThe virgins weeping round.

"I hear a voice, you cannot hear,25Which says I must not stay:I see a hand, you cannot see,Which beckons me away.

"By a false heart, and broken vows,In early youth I die.30Am I to blame, because his brideIs thrice as rich as I?

"Ah Colin! give not her thy vows;Vows due to me alone:Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kiss,35Nor think him all thy own.

"To-morrow in the church to wed,Impatient, both prepare;But know, fond maid, and know, false man,That Lucy will be there,40

"Then, bear my corse; ye comrades, bear,The bridegroom blithe to meet;He in his wedding-trim so gay,I in my winding-sheet."

She spoke, she dy'd;—her corse was borne,45The bridegroom blithe to meet;He in his wedding-trim so gay,She in her winding-sheet.

Then what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts?How were those nuptials kept?50The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead,And all the village wept.

Confusion, shame, remorse, despairAt once his bosom swell:The damps of death bedew'd his brow,55He shook, he groan'd, he fell.

From the vain bride (ah bride no more!)The varying crimson fled,When, stretch'd before her rival's corse,She saw her husband dead.60

Then to his Lucy's new-made grave,Convey'd by trembling swains,One mould with her, beneath one sod,For ever now remains.

Oft at their grave the constant hind65And plighted maid are seen;With garlands gay, and true-love knotsThey deck the sacred green.

But, swain forsworn, whoe'er thou art,This hallow'd spot forbear;70Remember Colin's dreadful fate,And fear to meet him there.

FOOTNOTES:[453]Born 1686.

[453]Born 1686.

AS REVISED AND ALTERED BY A MODERN HAND.

Mr. Warton, in his ingeniousObservations on Spenser, has given his opinion, that the fiction of theBoy andthe Mantleis taken from an old French piece intitledLe court mantel, quoted by M. de St. Palaye in his curiousMémoires sur l'ancienne Chevalerie, Paris, 1759, 2 tom. 12mo., who tells us the story resembles that of Ariosto's inchanted cup. 'Tis possible our English poet may have taken the hint of this subject from that old French romance, but he does not appear to have copied it in the manner of execution; to which (if onemay judge from the specimen given in theMémoires) that of the ballad does not bear the least resemblance. After all, 'tis most likely that all the old stories concerning K. Arthur are originally of British growth, and that what the French and other southern nations have of this kind, were at first exported from this island. SeeMémoires de l'Acad. des Inscrip.tom. xx. p. 352.

(Since this volume was printed off, theFabliaux ou Contes, 1781, 5 tom. 12mo., ofM. le Grand, have come to hand: and in tom. i. p. 54, he hath printed a modern version of the old taleLe CourtMantel, under a new titleLe Manteau maltaillé; which contains the story of this ballad much enlarged, so far as regards theMantle; but without any mention of theKnife, or theHorn.)

[See book i. No. 1, for the original of this ballad.]

In Carleile dwelt king Arthur,A prince of passing might;And there maintain'd his table round,Beset with many a knight.And there he kept his Christmas5With mirth and princely cheare,When, lo! a straunge and cunning boyBefore him did appeare.A kirtle and a mantleThis boy had him upon,10With brooches, rings, and owches[454]Full daintily bedone.He had a sarke[455]of silkAbout his middle meet;And thus, with seemly curtesy,15He did king Arthur greet."God speed thee, brave king Arthur,Thus feasting in thy bowre.And Guenever thy goodly queen,That fair and peerlesse flowre.20"Ye gallant lords, and lordings,I wish you all take heed,Lest, what ye deem a blooming roseShould prove a cankred weed."Then straitway from his bosome25A little wand he drew;And with it eke a mantleOf wondrous shepe, and hew."Now have thou here, king Arthur,Have this here of mee,30And give unto thy comely queen,All-shapen as you see."No wife it shall become,That once hath been to blame."Then every knight in Arthur's court35Slye glaunced at his dame.And first came lady Guenever,The mantle she must trye.This dame, she was new-fangled,And of a roving eye.40When she had tane the mantle,And all was with it cladde,From top to toe it shiver'd down,As tho' with sheers beshradde.One while it was too long,45Another while too short,And wrinkled on her shouldersIn most unseemly sort.Now green, now red it seemed,Then all of sable hue.50"Beshrew me, quoth king Arthur,I think thou beest not true."Down she threw the mantle,Ne longer would not stay;But storming like a fury,55To her chamber flung away.She curst the whoreson weaver,That had the mantle wrought:And doubly curst the froward impe,Who thither had it brought.60"I had rather live in desartsBeneath the green-wood tree:Than here, base king, among thy groomes,The sport of them and thee."Sir Kay call'd forth his lady,65And bade her to come near:"Yet dame, if thou be guilty,I pray thee now forbear."This lady, pertly gigling,With forward step came on,70And boldly to the little boyWith fearless face is gone.When she had tane the mantle,With purpose for to wear:It shrunk up to her shoulder,75And left her b**side bare.Then every merry knight,That was in Arthur's court,Gib'd, and laught, and flouted,To see that pleasant sport.80Down she threw the mantle,No longer bold or gay,But with a face all pale and wan,To her chamber slunk away.Then forth came an old knight,85A pattering o'er his creed;And proffer'd to the little boyFive nobles to his meed;"And all the time of ChristmassPlumb-porridge shall be thine,90If thou wilt let my lady fairWithin the mantle shine."A saint his lady seemed,With step demure, and slow,And gravely to the mantle95With mincing pace doth goe,When she the same had taken,That was so fine and thin,It shrivell'd all about her,And show'd her dainty skin.100Ah! little didHERmincing,OrHISlong prayers bestead;She had no more hung on her,Than a tassel and a thread.Down she threwe the mantle,105With terror and dismay,And, with a face of scarlet,To her chamber hyed away.Sir Cradock call'd his lady,And bade her to come neare;110"Come win this mantle, lady,And do me credit here."Come win this mantle, lady,For now it shall be thine,If thou hast never done amiss,115Sith first I made thee mine."The lady gently blushing,With modest grace came on,And now to trye this wondrous charmCourageously is gone.120When she had tane the mantle,And put it on her backe,About the hem it seemedTo wrinkle and to cracke."Lye still, shee cried, O mantle!125And shame me not for nought,I'll freely own whate'er amiss,Or blameful I have wrought."Once I kist Sir CradockeBeneathe the green wood tree:130Once I kist Sir Cradocke's mouthBefore he married me."When thus she had her shriven,And her worst fault had told,The mantle soon became her135Right comely as it shold.Most rich and fair of colour,Like gold it glittering shone:And much the knights in Arthur's courtAdmir'd her every one.140Then towards king Arthur's tableThe boy he turn'd his eye:Where stood a boar's-head garnishedWith bayes and rosemarye.When thrice he o'er the boar's head145His little wand had drawne,Quoth he, "There's never a cuckold's knife,Can carve this head of brawne."Then some their whittles rubbedOn whetstone, and on hone:150Some threwe them under the table,And swore that they had none.Sir Cradock had a little knifeOf steel and iron made;And in an instant thro' the skull155He thrust the shining blade.He thrust the shining bladeFull easily and fast:And every knight in Arthur's courtA morsel had to taste.160The boy brought forth a horne,All golden was the rim:Said he, "No cuckolde ever canSet mouth unto the brim."No cuckold can this little horne165Lift fairly to his head;But or on this, or that side,He shall the liquor shed."Some shed it on their shoulder,Some shed it on their thigh;170And hee that could not hit his mouth,Was sure to hit his eye.Thus he, that was a cuckold,Was known of every man:But Cradock lifted easily,175And wan the golden can.Thus boar's head, horn and mantleWere this fair couple's meed:And all such constant lovers,God send them well to speed.180Then down in rage came Guenever,And thus could spightful say,"Sir Cradock's wife most wrongfullyHath borne the prize away."See yonder shameless woman,185That makes herselfe so clean:Yet from her pillow takenThrice five gallants have been."Priests, clarkes, and wedded menHave her lewd pillow prest:190Yet she the wondrous prize forsoothMust beare from all the rest."Then bespake the little boy,Who had the same in hold:"Chastize thy wife, king Arthur,195Of speech she is too bold:"Of speech she is too bold,Of carriage all too free;Sir king, she hath within thy hallA cuckold made of thee.200"All frolick light and wantonShe hath her carriage borne:And given thee for a kingly crownTo wear a cuckold's horne."

In Carleile dwelt king Arthur,A prince of passing might;And there maintain'd his table round,Beset with many a knight.

And there he kept his Christmas5With mirth and princely cheare,When, lo! a straunge and cunning boyBefore him did appeare.

A kirtle and a mantleThis boy had him upon,10With brooches, rings, and owches[454]Full daintily bedone.

He had a sarke[455]of silkAbout his middle meet;And thus, with seemly curtesy,15He did king Arthur greet.

"God speed thee, brave king Arthur,Thus feasting in thy bowre.And Guenever thy goodly queen,That fair and peerlesse flowre.20

"Ye gallant lords, and lordings,I wish you all take heed,Lest, what ye deem a blooming roseShould prove a cankred weed."

Then straitway from his bosome25A little wand he drew;And with it eke a mantleOf wondrous shepe, and hew.

"Now have thou here, king Arthur,Have this here of mee,30And give unto thy comely queen,All-shapen as you see.

"No wife it shall become,That once hath been to blame."Then every knight in Arthur's court35Slye glaunced at his dame.

And first came lady Guenever,The mantle she must trye.This dame, she was new-fangled,And of a roving eye.40

When she had tane the mantle,And all was with it cladde,From top to toe it shiver'd down,As tho' with sheers beshradde.

One while it was too long,45Another while too short,And wrinkled on her shouldersIn most unseemly sort.

Now green, now red it seemed,Then all of sable hue.50"Beshrew me, quoth king Arthur,I think thou beest not true."

Down she threw the mantle,Ne longer would not stay;But storming like a fury,55To her chamber flung away.

She curst the whoreson weaver,That had the mantle wrought:And doubly curst the froward impe,Who thither had it brought.60

"I had rather live in desartsBeneath the green-wood tree:Than here, base king, among thy groomes,The sport of them and thee."

Sir Kay call'd forth his lady,65And bade her to come near:"Yet dame, if thou be guilty,I pray thee now forbear."

This lady, pertly gigling,With forward step came on,70And boldly to the little boyWith fearless face is gone.

When she had tane the mantle,With purpose for to wear:It shrunk up to her shoulder,75And left her b**side bare.

Then every merry knight,That was in Arthur's court,Gib'd, and laught, and flouted,To see that pleasant sport.80

Down she threw the mantle,No longer bold or gay,But with a face all pale and wan,To her chamber slunk away.

Then forth came an old knight,85A pattering o'er his creed;And proffer'd to the little boyFive nobles to his meed;

"And all the time of ChristmassPlumb-porridge shall be thine,90If thou wilt let my lady fairWithin the mantle shine."

A saint his lady seemed,With step demure, and slow,And gravely to the mantle95With mincing pace doth goe,

When she the same had taken,That was so fine and thin,It shrivell'd all about her,And show'd her dainty skin.100

Ah! little didHERmincing,OrHISlong prayers bestead;She had no more hung on her,Than a tassel and a thread.

Down she threwe the mantle,105With terror and dismay,And, with a face of scarlet,To her chamber hyed away.

Sir Cradock call'd his lady,And bade her to come neare;110"Come win this mantle, lady,And do me credit here.

"Come win this mantle, lady,For now it shall be thine,If thou hast never done amiss,115Sith first I made thee mine."

The lady gently blushing,With modest grace came on,And now to trye this wondrous charmCourageously is gone.120

When she had tane the mantle,And put it on her backe,About the hem it seemedTo wrinkle and to cracke.

"Lye still, shee cried, O mantle!125And shame me not for nought,I'll freely own whate'er amiss,Or blameful I have wrought.

"Once I kist Sir CradockeBeneathe the green wood tree:130Once I kist Sir Cradocke's mouthBefore he married me."

When thus she had her shriven,And her worst fault had told,The mantle soon became her135Right comely as it shold.

Most rich and fair of colour,Like gold it glittering shone:And much the knights in Arthur's courtAdmir'd her every one.140

Then towards king Arthur's tableThe boy he turn'd his eye:Where stood a boar's-head garnishedWith bayes and rosemarye.

When thrice he o'er the boar's head145His little wand had drawne,Quoth he, "There's never a cuckold's knife,Can carve this head of brawne."

Then some their whittles rubbedOn whetstone, and on hone:150Some threwe them under the table,And swore that they had none.

Sir Cradock had a little knifeOf steel and iron made;And in an instant thro' the skull155He thrust the shining blade.

He thrust the shining bladeFull easily and fast:And every knight in Arthur's courtA morsel had to taste.160

The boy brought forth a horne,All golden was the rim:Said he, "No cuckolde ever canSet mouth unto the brim.

"No cuckold can this little horne165Lift fairly to his head;But or on this, or that side,He shall the liquor shed."

Some shed it on their shoulder,Some shed it on their thigh;170And hee that could not hit his mouth,Was sure to hit his eye.

Thus he, that was a cuckold,Was known of every man:But Cradock lifted easily,175And wan the golden can.

Thus boar's head, horn and mantleWere this fair couple's meed:And all such constant lovers,God send them well to speed.180

Then down in rage came Guenever,And thus could spightful say,"Sir Cradock's wife most wrongfullyHath borne the prize away.

"See yonder shameless woman,185That makes herselfe so clean:Yet from her pillow takenThrice five gallants have been.

"Priests, clarkes, and wedded menHave her lewd pillow prest:190Yet she the wondrous prize forsoothMust beare from all the rest."

Then bespake the little boy,Who had the same in hold:"Chastize thy wife, king Arthur,195Of speech she is too bold:

"Of speech she is too bold,Of carriage all too free;Sir king, she hath within thy hallA cuckold made of thee.200

"All frolick light and wantonShe hath her carriage borne:And given thee for a kingly crownTo wear a cuckold's horne."

⁂

⁂ The Rev. Evan Evans, editor of the specimens ofWelshPoetry, 4to. affirmed that theBoy and the Mantleis taken from what is related in some of the old Welsh MSS. of Tegan Earfron, one of King Arthur's mistresses. She is said to have possessed a mantle that would not fit any immodest or incontinent woman;this, (which, the old writers say, was reckoned among the curiosities of Britain) is frequently alluded to by the old Welsh Bards.Carleile, so often mentioned in the ballads of K. Arthur, the editor once thought might probably be a corruption ofCaer-leon, an ancient British city on the river Uske, in Monmouthshire, which was one of the places of K. Arthur's chief residence; but he is now convinced, that it is no other thanCarlisle, in Cumberland; the old English minstrels, being most of them northern men, naturally represented the hero of romance as residing in the north: And many of the places mentioned in the old ballads are still to be found there: AsTearne-Wadling, &c.Near Penrith is still seen a large circle, surrounded by a mound of earth, which retains the name of Arthur's Round Table.[For a full statement of the claims of the "North" to be considered as the home of King Arthur, see J. S. Stuart Glennie's Essay onArthurian Localities, in the edition of the Prose Romance ofMerlin, published by the Early English Text Society.]

Carleile, so often mentioned in the ballads of K. Arthur, the editor once thought might probably be a corruption ofCaer-leon, an ancient British city on the river Uske, in Monmouthshire, which was one of the places of K. Arthur's chief residence; but he is now convinced, that it is no other thanCarlisle, in Cumberland; the old English minstrels, being most of them northern men, naturally represented the hero of romance as residing in the north: And many of the places mentioned in the old ballads are still to be found there: AsTearne-Wadling, &c.

Near Penrith is still seen a large circle, surrounded by a mound of earth, which retains the name of Arthur's Round Table.

[For a full statement of the claims of the "North" to be considered as the home of King Arthur, see J. S. Stuart Glennie's Essay onArthurian Localities, in the edition of the Prose Romance ofMerlin, published by the Early English Text Society.]

FOOTNOTES:[454][bosses or buttons of gold.][455][shirt.]

[454][bosses or buttons of gold.]

[455][shirt.]

Thesecond poem in this volume, intitledThe Marriageof Sir Gawaine, having been offered to the reader with large conjectural supplements and corrections, the old fragment itself is here literally and exactly printed from the editor's folio MS. with all its defects, inaccuracies, and errata; that such austere antiquaries, as complain that the ancient copies have not been always rigidly adhered to, may see how unfit for publication many of the pieces would have been, if all the blunders, corruptions, and nonsense of illiterate reciters and transcribers had been superstitiously retained, without some attempt to correct and emend them.

This ballad had most unfortunately suffered by having half of every leaf in this part of the MS. torn away; and, as about ninestanzas generally occur in the half page now remaining, it is concluded, that the other half contained nearly the same number of stanzas.

[The following poem is printed in Hales' and Furnivall's edition of the MS., vol. i. p. 105.]

Kinge Arthur liues in merry Carleile,& seemely is to see,& there he hath wthhim Queene Genevr,ytbride soe bright of blee.And there he hath wthhim Queene Genever,ytbride soe bright in bower,& all his barons about him stoodeytwere both stiffe & stowre.The K. kept a royall Christmasseof mirth & great honor,& when....

Kinge Arthur liues in merry Carleile,& seemely is to see,& there he hath wthhim Queene Genevr,ytbride soe bright of blee.

And there he hath wthhim Queene Genever,ytbride soe bright in bower,& all his barons about him stoodeytwere both stiffe & stowre.

The K. kept a royall Christmasseof mirth & great honor,& when....

[About Nine Stanzas wanting.]

And bring me word what thing it isyta woman most desire.this shalbe thy ransome, Arthur, he sayesfor Ile haue noe other hier.K. Arthur then held vp his handaccording thene as was the law;he tooke his leaue of the baron there,& homward can he draw.And when he came to Merry Carlile,to his chamber he is gone,& ther came to him his Cozen SrGawaineas he did make his mone.And there came to him his Cozen SrGawaineytwas a curteous knight,why sigh you soe sore vnckle Arthur, he saidor who hath done thee vnright.O peace, o peace, thou gentle Gawaine,ytfaire may thee beffall,for if thou knew my sighing soe deepe,thou wold not meruaile att all;ffor when I came to tearne wadling,a bold barron there I fand,wtha great club vpon his backe,standing stiffe & strong;And he asked me wether I wold fight,or from him I shold be gone,o[r] else I must him a ransome pay& soe dep't him from.To fight wthhim I saw noe cause,me thought it was not meet,ffor he was stiffe & strong wthall,his strokes were nothing sweete.Therfor this is my ransome, GawaineI ought to him to payI must come againe, as I am sworne,vpon the Newyeers day.And I must bring him word what thing it is

And bring me word what thing it isyta woman most desire.this shalbe thy ransome, Arthur, he sayesfor Ile haue noe other hier.

K. Arthur then held vp his handaccording thene as was the law;he tooke his leaue of the baron there,& homward can he draw.

And when he came to Merry Carlile,to his chamber he is gone,& ther came to him his Cozen SrGawaineas he did make his mone.

And there came to him his Cozen SrGawaineytwas a curteous knight,why sigh you soe sore vnckle Arthur, he saidor who hath done thee vnright.

O peace, o peace, thou gentle Gawaine,ytfaire may thee beffall,for if thou knew my sighing soe deepe,thou wold not meruaile att all;

ffor when I came to tearne wadling,a bold barron there I fand,wtha great club vpon his backe,standing stiffe & strong;

And he asked me wether I wold fight,or from him I shold be gone,o[r] else I must him a ransome pay& soe dep't him from.

To fight wthhim I saw noe cause,me thought it was not meet,ffor he was stiffe & strong wthall,his strokes were nothing sweete.

Therfor this is my ransome, GawaineI ought to him to payI must come againe, as I am sworne,vpon the Newyeers day.

And I must bring him word what thing it is

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Then king Arthur drest him for to rydein one soe rich arraytoward the foresaid Tearne wadling,ythe might keepe his day.And as he rode over a more,hee see a lady where shee satebetwixt an oke & a greene hollen[457]:she was cladd in red scarlett.Then there as shold have stood her mouth,then there was sett her eyethe other was in her forhead fastthe way that she might see.Her nose was crooked & turnd outward,her mouth stood foule a wry;a worse formed lady then shee was,neuer man saw wthhis eye.To halch[458]vpon him, k. Arthurthis lady was full fainebut k. Arthur had forgott his lessonwhat he shold say againeWhat knight art thou, the lady sayd,that wilt not speake to me?of me be thou nothing dismaydtho I be vgly to see;for I haue halched you curteouslye,& you will not me againe,yett I may happen Srknight, shee saidto ease thee of thy paine.Giue thou ease me, lady, he saidor helpe me any thing,thou shalt haue gentle Gawaine, my cozen& marry him wtha ring.Why, if I helpe thee not, thou noble k. Arthurof thy owne hearts desiringe,of gentle Gawaine....

Then king Arthur drest him for to rydein one soe rich arraytoward the foresaid Tearne wadling,ythe might keepe his day.

And as he rode over a more,hee see a lady where shee satebetwixt an oke & a greene hollen[457]:she was cladd in red scarlett.

Then there as shold have stood her mouth,then there was sett her eyethe other was in her forhead fastthe way that she might see.

Her nose was crooked & turnd outward,her mouth stood foule a wry;a worse formed lady then shee was,neuer man saw wthhis eye.

To halch[458]vpon him, k. Arthurthis lady was full fainebut k. Arthur had forgott his lessonwhat he shold say againe

What knight art thou, the lady sayd,that wilt not speake to me?of me be thou nothing dismaydtho I be vgly to see;

for I haue halched you curteouslye,& you will not me againe,yett I may happen Srknight, shee saidto ease thee of thy paine.

Giue thou ease me, lady, he saidor helpe me any thing,thou shalt haue gentle Gawaine, my cozen& marry him wtha ring.

Why, if I helpe thee not, thou noble k. Arthurof thy owne hearts desiringe,of gentle Gawaine....

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And when he came to the tearne wadlingthe baron there cold he fimde[459]wtha great weapon on his backe,standing stiffe & strongeAnd then he tooke k. Arthur's letters in his hands& away he cold them fling,& then he puld out a good browne sword,& cryd himselfe a k.And he sayd, I haue thee & thy land, Arthurto doe as it pleaseth me,for this is not thy ransome sure,therfore yeeld thee to mee.And then bespoke him noble Arthur,& bad him hold his hands,& give me leave to speake my mindin defence of all my land.He said as I came over a More,I see a lady where shee satebetweene an oke & a green hollen;shee was clad in red scarlett;And she says a woman will haue her will,& this is all her cheefe desire:doe me right as thou art a baron of sckill,this is thy ransome & and all thy hyer.He sayes an early vengeance light on her,she walkes on yonder more;it was my sister that told thee this& she is a misshappen hore.But heer Ile make mine avow[460]to godto do her an euill turne,for an euer I may thate fowle theefe get,in a fyer I will her burne.

And when he came to the tearne wadlingthe baron there cold he fimde[459]wtha great weapon on his backe,standing stiffe & stronge

And then he tooke k. Arthur's letters in his hands& away he cold them fling,& then he puld out a good browne sword,& cryd himselfe a k.

And he sayd, I haue thee & thy land, Arthurto doe as it pleaseth me,for this is not thy ransome sure,therfore yeeld thee to mee.

And then bespoke him noble Arthur,& bad him hold his hands,& give me leave to speake my mindin defence of all my land.

He said as I came over a More,I see a lady where shee satebetweene an oke & a green hollen;shee was clad in red scarlett;

And she says a woman will haue her will,& this is all her cheefe desire:doe me right as thou art a baron of sckill,this is thy ransome & and all thy hyer.

He sayes an early vengeance light on her,she walkes on yonder more;it was my sister that told thee this& she is a misshappen hore.

But heer Ile make mine avow[460]to godto do her an euill turne,for an euer I may thate fowle theefe get,in a fyer I will her burne.

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Sir Lancelott & SrSteven boldthey rode wththem that day,and the formost of the companythere rode the steward Kay,Soe did SrBanier & SrBoreSrGarrett wththem soe gay,soe did SrTristeram ytgentle kt,to the forrest fresh & gayAnd when he came to the greene forrestvnderneath a greene holly treetheir sate that lady in red scarletytvnseemly was to see.SrKay beheld this Ladys face,& looked vppon her smire[461]whosoeuer kisses this lady, he sayesof his kisse he standes in feare.Sir Kay beheld the lady againe,& looked vpon her snout,whosoeuer kisses this lady, he saies,of his kisse he stands in doubt.Peace coz. Kay, then said SrGawaineamend thee of thy life;for there is a knight amongst us allytmust marry her to his wife.What, wedd her to wiffe, then said SrKay,in the diuells name anon,gett me a wiffe where ere I may,for I had rather be slaine.Then soome tooke vp their hawkes in hast& some tooke vp their hounds,& some sware they wold not marry herfor Citty nor for towne.And then be spake him noble k. Arthur,& sware there by this day,for a litle foule sight and misliking

Sir Lancelott & SrSteven boldthey rode wththem that day,and the formost of the companythere rode the steward Kay,

Soe did SrBanier & SrBoreSrGarrett wththem soe gay,soe did SrTristeram ytgentle kt,to the forrest fresh & gay

And when he came to the greene forrestvnderneath a greene holly treetheir sate that lady in red scarletytvnseemly was to see.

SrKay beheld this Ladys face,& looked vppon her smire[461]whosoeuer kisses this lady, he sayesof his kisse he standes in feare.

Sir Kay beheld the lady againe,& looked vpon her snout,whosoeuer kisses this lady, he saies,of his kisse he stands in doubt.

Peace coz. Kay, then said SrGawaineamend thee of thy life;for there is a knight amongst us allytmust marry her to his wife.

What, wedd her to wiffe, then said SrKay,in the diuells name anon,gett me a wiffe where ere I may,for I had rather be slaine.

Then soome tooke vp their hawkes in hast& some tooke vp their hounds,& some sware they wold not marry herfor Citty nor for towne.

And then be spake him noble k. Arthur,& sware there by this day,for a litle foule sight and misliking

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