Thus endeth the lives of these good yemen:
God send them eternall blysse;
And all, that with a hand-bowe shoteth:
That of heven may never mysse. Amen.

II.

290

The Grave-digger's song in Hamlet, A. 5, is taken from three stanzas of the following poem, though greatly altered and disguised, as the same were corrupted by the ballad-singers of Shakespeare's time; or perhaps so designed by the poet himself, the better to suit the character of an illiterate clown. The original is preserved among Surrey's Poems, and is attributed to Lord Vaux, by George Gascoigne, who tells us, it 'was thought by some to be made upon his death-bed; ' a popular error which he laughs at. (See his Epist. to Yong Gent. prefixed to his Posies, 1575, 4to.) It is also ascribed to Lord Vaux in a manuscript copy preserved in the British Museum.1 This Lord was remarkable for his skill in drawing feigned manners, &c. for so I understand an ancient writer. 'The Lord Vaux his commendation lyeth chiefly in the facilitie of his meetre, and the aptnesse of his descriptions such as he taketh upon him to make, namely in sundry of his Songs, wherein he showeth the counterfait action very lively and pleasantly.' Arte of Eng. Poesie, 1589, p. 51. See another Song by this Poet in vol. II. No. VIII.

Ver. 6, be, PC. [printed copy in 1557.]—Ver. 10, Crowch perhaps should be Clouch, clutch, grasp.

Harl. MSS. num. 1703, § 25. The readings gathered from that copy are distinguished here by brackets. The text is printed from the 'Songs, &c. of the Earl of Surrey and others, 1557, 4to.'

And lusty [Youthe] awaye he leapes,
As there had bene none such.

My muse doth not delight

Me, as she did before:

My hand and pen are not in plight,
As they have bene of yore.

For Reason me denies,
[All] youthly idle rime;

And day by day to me she cries,
Leave off these toyes in tyme.'

The wrinkles in my brow,

15

20.

The furrowes in my face

Say Limping age will [lodge] him now,
Where youth must geve him place.'

The harbenger of death,

To me I se him ride,

The cough, the cold, the gasping breath,
Doth bid me to provide

A pikeax and a spade,

And eke a shrowding shete, A house of clay for to be made For such a guest most mete.

Me thinkes I heare the clarke,

That knoles the carefull knell;

And bids me leave my [wearye] warke,

Ere nature me compell.

25

309

35

Ver. 11, Life away she, PC.-Ver. 18, This, PC.-Ver. 23, So Ed. 1588; 'tis hedge in Ed. 1557, hath caught him, MS.-Ver. 30, wyndynge-sheete, MS.Ver. 34, bell, MS.-Ver. 35, wofull, PC.

My kepers knit the knot,

That youth doth laugh to scorne, Of me that [shall bee cleane] forgot, As I had [ne'er] bene borne.

* Thus must I, youth geve up,

Whose badge I long did weare: To them I yield the wanton cup, That better may it beare.

Lo, here the bared skull;

By whose balde signe I know, That stouping age away shall pull [What] youthful yeres did sow.

For Beautie with her band,.

These croked cares had wrought,
And shipped me into the land,
From whence I first was brought.

And ye that bide behinde,
Have ye none other trust:

III.

JEPHTHAH JUDGE OF ISRAEL.

In Shakespeare's Hamlet, A. II. the Hero of the Play takes occasion to banter Polonius with some scraps of an old Ballad, which has never appeared yet in any collection: for which reason, as it is but short, it will not perhaps be unacceptable to the Reader; who will also be diverted with the pleasant

Ver. 38, did, PC.-Ver. 39, clene shal be, PC.-Ver. 40, not, PC.-Ver. 45, bare-hedde, MS. and some, PCC.-Ver. 48, Which, PC. That, MS. What is conject.-Ver. 56, wast, PC.

absurdities of the composition. It was retrieved from utter oblivion by a lady, wno wrote it down from memory as she had formerly heard it sung by her father. I am indebted for it to the friendship of Mr Steevens.

It has been said, that the original Ballad, in black-letter, is among Anthony à Wood's Collections in the Ashmolean Museum. But, upon application lately made, the volume which contained this Song was missing, so that it can only now be given as in the former Edition.

The banter of Hamlet is as follows:

"Hamlet. "O Jeptha Judge of Israel,” what a treasure hadst thou? 'Polonius. What a treasure had he, my Lord?

'Ham. Why, "One faire daughter, and no more, The which he loved passing well."

'Polon. Still on my daughter.

'Ham. Am not I i' th' right, old Jeptha?

'Polon. If you call me Jeptha, my Lord, I have a daughter, that I love passing well.

'Ham. Nay, that follows not.

Polon. What follows then, my Lord?

Ham. Why" As by lot, God wot:" and then you know, "It came to passe, As most like it was.' "The first row of the pious chanson will shew you more.' Edit. 1793, Vol. XV. p. 133.

HAVE you not heard these many years ago,
Jeptha was judge of Israel?

He had one only daughter and no mo,

The which he loved passing well:

And, as by lott,

God wot,

It so came to pass,

As Gods will was,

5

That great wars there should be,

And none should be chosen chief but he.

10

And when he was appointed judge,

And chieftain of the company,

A solemn vow to God he made;
If he returned with victory,
At his return

To burn

The first live thing,

* * * * *

15

That should meet with him then,

Off his house, when he should return agen.

It came to pass, the wars was oer,

And he returned with victory;

His dear and only daughter first of all
Came to meet her father foremostly:.
And all the way

She did play

On tabret and pipe,

Full many a stripe,

With note so high,

For joy that her father is come so nigh.

But when he saw his daughter dear
Coming on most foremostly,

He wrung his hands and tore his hair,

And cryed out most piteously;

'Oh! it's thou,' said he,

But, dear father, grant me one request,

That I may go to the wilderness,