The gyaunt he stepped into the lists,
And sayd, Awaye, awaye:

I sweare, as I am the hend soldàn,
Thou lettest me here all daye.

5

Then forthe the stranger knight he came
In his blacke armoure dight:

135

And nowe the gyaunt and knighte be mett
Within the lists soe broad;

140

And now with swordes soe sharpe of steele,
They gan to lay on load.

The soldan strucke the knighte a stroke,
That made him reele asyde;

15

Then woe-begone was that fayre ladyè,
And thrice she deeply sighde.

145

20

[The 51] The soldan strucke a second stroke,
That made the bloude to flowe:

All pale and wan was that ladye fayre,
And thrice she wept for woe.

The soldan strucke a third fell stroke,

150

Which brought the knighte on his knee:

Sad sorrow pierced that ladyes heart,

And she shriekt loud shreikings (l. shriek.) three.

25

25

The knighte he leapt upon his feete,

155

All recklesse of the pain:

Quoth hee, But heaven be now my speede,

E 2 170

And nowe the kinge with all his barons
Rose uppe from offe his seate,

And downe he stepped intò the listes

That curteous knighte to greete.

[But 52] But he for payne and lacke of bloude
Was fallen intò a swounde,

And there all walteringe in his gore,
Laye lifelesse on the grounde.

175 Come downe, come downe, my daughter deare,
Thou art a leeche of skille;

180

185

Farre lever had I lose halfe my landes,
Than this good knighte sholde spille.
Downe then steppeth that fayre ladyè,
To helpe him if she maye;
But when she did his beavere raise,
It is my life, my lord, she sayes,
And shriekte and swound awaye.
Sir Cauline juste lifte up his eyes
When he heard his ladye crye,
O ladye, I am thine owne true love,
For thee I wisht to dye.

Then giving her one partinge looke,
He closed his eyes in deathe,

190 Ere Christabelle, that ladye milde,

195

Begane to drawe her breathe.

But when she found her comelye knighte

Indeed was dead and gone,

[Shee 53] Shee layde her pale cold cheeke to his,

And thus she made her moane.

O staye, my deare and onlye lord,

For mee thy faithfulle feere;
'Tis meet that I shold followe thee,
Who hast bought my love soe deare.

200 Then fayntinge in a deadlye swoune,
And with a deepe-fette sighe,

That burste her gentle hearte in twayne,
Fayre Christabelle did dye.

25

30

35

*

E 3

10

5

V.

EDWARD, EDWARD.

A SCOTTISH BALLAD,

From a MS. copy transmitted from Scotland.

QUHY dois zour brand sae drap wi' bluid,

Edward, Edward?

Quhy dois zour brand sae drap wi' bluid?
And quhy sae sad gang zee, O?

O, I hae killed my hauke sae guid,

Mither, mither:

[0, I 54] 0, I hae killed my hauke sae guid;
And I had nae mair bot hee, O.

Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid;
Edward, Edward.

Zour haukis bluid was nevir sae reid;
My deir son I tell thee, O.

O, I hae killed my reid-roan steid,
Mither, mither:

O, I hae killed my reid-roan steid,

That erst was sae fair and frie, O.
Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair,

Edward, Edward:

Zour steid was auld, and ze hae gat mair,
Sum other dule ze drie, O.

O, I hae killed my fadir deir,

Mither, Mither:

O, I hae killed my fadir deir

Alas! and wae is mee, O!

And quhatten penance wul ze drie for that?

Edward, Edward.

And quhatten penance will ze drie for that?
My deir son, now tell me, 0.

Ile set my feit in zonder boat,

Mither, mither:

35 [Ile 55] Ile set my feit in zonder boat,

And Ile fare ovir the sea, O.

And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha',

Edward, Edward?

5

10

15

20

25

30:

And quhat wul ze doe wi' zour towirs and zour ha',
That were sae fair to see, O?

Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa',

Mither, mither:

Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa',

For here nevir mair maun I bee, O.

And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife,
Edward, Edward?

And quhat wul ze leive to zour bairns and zour wife,
Quhan ze gang ovir the sea, O?

The warldis room, late them beg thrae life,

Mither, mither:

The warldis room,

let them beg thrae life,

50

For thame nevir mair wul I see, O.

And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir,
Edward, Edward:

And quhat wul ze leive to zour ain mither deir,
My deir son, now tell mee, O.

The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir,

Mither, mither:

55 [The 56] The curse of hell frae me sall ze beir, Sic counseils ze gave to me, O.

VI.

KING ESTMERE.

15

20

This old Romantic Legend, (which is preserved in the Edi- 25 tor's folio MS) bears marks of great antiquity, and perhaps ought to have taken place of any in this volume. It should seem to have been written while a great part of Spain was in the hands of the Saracens or Moors: whose empire there was not fully extinguished before the year 1491. The Ma- 30 hometans are spoken of in v. 49, &c. just in the same terms as in all other old romances. The author of the ancient Legend of SIR BEVIS represents his hero upon all occasions, breathing out defiance against

"Mahound and Termagaunte ;" And so full of zeal for his religion, as to return the following polite message to a Paynim king's fair daughter, who had

See at the end of this ballad, Note †††.

35

5

fallen in love with him, and sent two Saracen knights to invite him to her bower,

"I wyll not ones stirre off this grounde,
"To speake with an heathen hounde.
"Unchristen houndes, I rede you fle,
"Or I your harte bloud shall set".

Indeed they return the compliment by calling him elswhere "a christen hounde*."

[This 57] This was conformable to the real manners of the 10 barbarous ages: perhaps the same excuse will hardly serve our bard for the situations in which he has placed some of his royal personages. That a youthful monarch should take a journey into another kingdom to visit his mistress incog. was a piece of gallantry paralleled in our own Charles I. but 15 that king Adland should be found lolling or leaning at his gate (v. 35.) may be thought perchance a little out of character. And yet the great painter of manners, Homer, did not think it inconsistent with decorum to represent a king of the Taphians rearing himself at the gate of Ulysses to inquire for 20 that monarch, when he touched at Ithaca as he was taking a voyage with a ship's cargo of iron to dispose in traffic. So little ought we to judge of ancient manners by our own.

Before I conclude this article, I cannot help observing that the reader will see in this ballad, the character of the old 25 minstrels, (those successors of the bards) raised much higher than he has yet observed it (l. than he will elsewhere find it. corr.)||: here he will see one of them represented mounted on a fine horse, accompanied with an attendant to bear his harp after him, and to sing the poems of his composing. 30 Here he will see him mixing in the company of kings without ceremony: no mean proof of the great antiquity of this poem. The farther we carry our inquiries back, the greater respect we find paid to the professors of poetry and music among all the Celtic and Gothic nations. Their character was deemed 35 So sacred, that under its sanction our famous king Alfred made no scruple to enter the Danish camp, and found no difficulty to gain admittance to the king's headquarters*. † Sign. C. ij. b. *Sign. C. j. b.

40

Odyss. a. 105. See vol. 2. p. 163.

*Even so late as the time of Froissart, we find minstrels and heralds mentioned together, as those who might securely go into an enemy's country. Cap. cxl.