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PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 
 
 a laomance. 
 
 IN FOUR CANTOS. 
 
PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS, 
 
 ROMANCE, 
 
 IN FOUR CANTOS. 
 
 FREELY TRANSLATED 
 FROM 
 
 THE FRENCH OF M. LE GRAND; 
 
 WITH NOTES: 
 
 BT 
 
 WILLIAM STEWART ROSE. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 PRINTED FOa 
 
 LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, PATERNOSTER-ROW, 
 
 BY 
 JAMES BALLANTYNE AND CO. EDINBURGH. 
 
 I8O7. 
 
1207 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The romance of Partenopex, or rather an extract from it, 
 made its first appearance in the Bibliotheque des Romans, un- 
 der the title of Partetiuple de Blois, translated from a story in 
 Spanish prose. M. Le Grand has, however, successfully esta- 
 blished the French origin of this work.* His own translation 
 is made from a MS. poem, in the library of St Germain-des- 
 PrSs ; which he is at first inclined to consider as a produc- 
 tion of the ll2th century : he afterwards, reasoning from a 
 piece of internal evidence, revokes his first opinion, and, 
 with greater appearance of probability, ascribes it to the 
 13th. f 
 
 * Quel que soit cet ouvrage, says he,je le reclame au noni de ma patrie, II est 
 
 d elk, il lui appartietit ; et c'est pour en convahicre mes lectnirs, que de preference 
 
 fai choisi de la traduire. Je citerai le titre original qui nous Fassure. Que ceux 
 
 qui se Farrogent, produisent dans leur langue un manuscrit plus ancien ; et alorsje 
 
 me retracte. 
 
 t In an old romance, quoted by Warton, are the following lines (I quote 
 from memory) : 
 
 " I will rede you romans none, 
 
 " Ne of Partenope, ne of Ippomydon." 
 
 Warton supposes these to be mutilations of the names Parthenopaeus and 
 Hippomedon. Why not of Partenopex and Ippomydon, both heroes of 
 romance f 
 
 275 
 
Of its French origin little doubt will probably be enter- 
 tained by those conversant with the literature of the middle 
 ages. It is scarcely necessary, after the able essays on these 
 subjects, by Mr Ellis and others, to insist that all the ancient 
 romances were written in verse. Nor is this the only ground 
 on which M. Le Grand might vindicate the title of his coun- 
 try. The oldest verse which Spain can boast is that of the 
 Troubadours, whose works consist exclusively of metaphy- 
 sical disquisitions on love, and satires; and even this strain 
 of poetry, amongst the Spaniards, dates long posterior to 
 the period, which, arguing from the manners it reflects, and 
 the sentiments which it breathes, must have given birth to 
 
 PARTENOP^iX DE BlOIS. 
 
 If the author of this history has not produced so rich a 
 tissue of adventure as characterises some of the ancient ro- 
 mances, the web which he spins is, at least, less involved ; 
 and perhaps what is wanting in imagination is more than 
 compensated in the interest excited by the story, in the 
 unity of action, and the simplicity of its design. 
 
 I have retained a peculiarity in the French, which I 
 thought promised to give some little relief and animation 
 
 10 
 
Vll 
 
 to the narrative. The Trouveur is himself crost in love, and 
 whenever he touches a kindred chord, breaks forth into an 
 effusion upon his own melancholy condition. As there is, 
 however, a sameness in these, I have sought to diversify 
 them with some variety of sentiment; generally returning 
 to the supposed case of the poet, as a sort of key-note, 
 which uniformly serves to close these rhapsodies in the ori- 
 ginal. 
 
 I have been enabled to illustrate the following cantos by 
 engravings, from designs of Mr Richard Smirke. Of the 
 execution of these I shall say nothing ; but I may be justi- 
 fied in claiming for them one merit, which the world at 
 large is perhaps not so well qualified to appreciate as the 
 skill or abilities of the artist : — ^They exhibit a faithful picture 
 of the scenery and habits of the J 2th and 13th centuries, the 
 result of much industry and patient observation. 
 
PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 
 
 IN FOUR CANTOS. 
 
PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 Now lusty May drops sweets in every shower. 
 And broiders o'er the fields with grass and flower. 
 And woodlands wild with lark and throstle ring. 
 And ladies in their painted chambers sing. 
 
4 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i. 
 
 Blest with a heart at ease, and tuned to joy. 
 Shall I in listless sloth mine hours employ 1 
 No ; while all nature wakes to spritely mirth, 
 A story will I tell of mickle worth. 
 List, damsels bright in hower ! list, lordings gay 1 
 For pleasant is my tale,andwonderous sweet the lay. 
 
 In olden time, derived of Trojan strain, 
 Cleoner o'er the realm of France did reign. 
 Rich in a son, and nephew passing fair. 
 The count of Blois' and Anger s hopeful heir. 
 Scarce fifteen winters old ; this gentle child 
 Parte NOPE X, so runs the tale, was styled. 
 Nor famed alone for comeliness and grace. 
 But for a soul assorted with his face. 
 
 It chanced the king to Ardenne's wood did fare. 
 To rouse the bristly salvage from his laire : 
 Forced from the sheltering fern, the quarry bounds ; 
 With bugle and with shout the greenwood sounds ; 
 
r 
 
CANTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 5 
 
 Wide the loud thunder of the chase is spread. 
 And the ground rocks beneath the courser s tread. 
 Who but Partenopex exults? His dart 
 He launch'd, and pierced the monster to the heart ; 
 Then, blithe of mood, bestrode the prostrate beast. 
 And wound a joyful summons to the feast. 
 Quick trooping to the call, his hounds repair. 
 Throng round the prince, and spend their mouths 
 in air. 
 
 Yet bay'd the dogs, and yet the bugle rung. 
 When a fresh boar from forth the thicket sprung. 
 His speed what charm provoked, I know not well ; 
 But, govern'd by the same resistless spell. 
 The child regain'd his horse, and, smiting sore 
 Upon his bleeding flanks, was seen no more. 
 
 Him long the admiring king and peers expect ; 
 Then through the tangled brake their steps direct ; 
 
6 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i. 
 
 And to their lips the pealing horn apply. 
 In vain ; nor voice, nor bugle, made reply. 
 Forlorn they tarry till the fall of day, 
 Then homeward to the city wend their way ; 
 While scatter'd prickers, such the monarch's hest. 
 Through the long night protract their bootless 
 quest. ■' 
 
 Far prick'd the boy, nor slack'd his courser s pace 
 Nor wist that he was single in the chase. 
 Till day was well nigh spent ; then, heartless, laid 
 His limbs beneath an oak's embowering shade ; 
 Bent, with the morro^v's early dawn, once more 
 The forest's devious mazes to explore. 
 
 Roused by the lark, he strives to measure back 
 His homeward way ; but, weetless of the track. 
 Still by the same o'er-ruling spell misled. 
 Worse than afore the gentle valet sped. 
 
CAKTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 7 
 
 'Twas eve ; when from afar was heard tlie roar 
 Of hollow billows, bursting on the shore ; 
 And from those wilds forth issuing on the strand, 
 He view'd a bark fast anchor'd by the land. 
 Gay was the hull, and seemly to behold ; 
 The flag was sendal, purfled o'er with gold. 
 
 Scarce might he climb the deck, with toil fore- 
 done, 
 But in the shallop living wight was none. 
 While long and sore he mused, a gentle gale 
 Blew, rustling from the shore, and swell'd the sail. 
 Self-steer'd, o'er sparkling waves the vessel flew ; 
 The shore, receding, lessen'd from his view. 
 Wo was the boy ; the land might hope afford^ 
 To him who back'd a steed, and grasp'd a sword ; 
 Alone upon the deep, what power could friend. 
 What skill direct him, or what force defend ? 
 Wrapt in such phantasies, (the work of spell,)i 
 A balmy slumber on his eye-lids felL 
 
8 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i. 
 
 Waked by the noon-tide sun, he views a port. 
 So large, whole navies there might hold resort. 
 Here the trim bark her wonderous voyage ends ; 
 Stay'd by a silken rope, the child descends. 
 
 Fast by the margin of the tumbling flood, 
 Crown'd with embattled towers, a castle stood. 
 The marble walls a chequer d field display'd. 
 With stones of many-colour'd hues inlaid. 
 With that ('twas wrought of fayery) so dight. 
 The workmanship did pass the substance bright. 
 Flank'd with protecting towers, a league of ground 
 The far extending girt encompass'd round. 
 Within, trim garden, mead, and fruitful vale. 
 In gay confusion lay, and passing tale,— - 
 Fit ornaments to grace a rich domain ; 
 Huge gamers to bestow the golden grain ; 
 Tall mills, with crystal streams encircled round. 
 And villages, with rustic plenty crown'd. 
 
CANTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. .8 
 
 There, fading in the distance, woods were seen. 
 With gaily glittering spires, and battlements be- 
 tween. 
 
 Beneath the porch, in rich mosaic, blaze 
 The sun, and silver lamp that drinks his rays. 
 Here stood the symbol'd elements pourtray'd, 
 And nature all her secret springs display'd. 
 Here too was seen whate'er of earlier age, 
 Or later time, had graced the historic page ; 
 And storied loves of knights and courtly dames. 
 Pageants and triumphs, tournaments and games. 
 
 Here Moses made the signal, and the sea 
 Was whelm'd on Pharaoh's paynim chivalry. 
 Beyond, the waves stood heap'd on either hand, 
 And Israel's tribes pass'd dry-shod on the land ; 
 Before the van her damsels danced along. 
 With trump, with shout, with timbrel, and with song. 
 
 B 
 
10 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i. 
 
 Flores and maiden Blanchflower here were seen, 
 With trefoil and with true-love knot between. 
 
 Here to child Tristram, panting at his oar. 
 The drink of might the gentle Yseult bore ; 
 Shared in a luckless hour betwixt the twain ; 
 Brief pleasure, purchased with a world of pain 1 
 
 Stript of her robes, and to the stake ypight. 
 Here stood fair Guenever, in piteous plight. 
 Not yet the pile was lit ; with sainted mein, 
 A reverend hermit seem'd to shrive the queen ; 
 Rapt, as of life to come, and matter high. 
 And saving truths he spake, and pointed to the 
 
 sky. 
 But she, for grief and shame had smote her sore. 
 In sooth, did little mark his ghostly lore. 
 Around, sans casque, or shield, in gloomy sort. 
 Stood the bold barons of King Arthur s court ; 
 
CANTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 11 
 
 And many a lord, and many a lady gay, 
 Lamenting, wrung their hands, and seem'd to moan 
 the day. 
 
 The next compartment a new scene bewray'd ; 
 Here prick'd a knightly band from green-wood 
 
 shade : 
 Their gonfainouns all shining in the sun. 
 Full at the assistant troop they seem'd to run. 
 Who led those worthies true from bush and brake ? 
 Who but the prew Sir Launcelot du Lake ? 
 
 Spurring, and plucking up of steeds was there : 
 Bristle the serried spears, and faulchions glare. 
 The field well won, before him on his selle, 
 Clasp'd in one arm, he bore that bonnibelle. 
 Sweet paragons of truth and love, farewell ! 
 
 .Other and sadder scenes of cark and care, 
 Sprung from the same bad source, were painted fair : 
 
12 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i. 
 
 King Arthur's vengeful fury, Benwick's siege, 
 The strife unblest of vassal and of liege ; 
 The treason and the wiles of him, misborn 
 In incest, and of faith and knighthood lorn. 
 Sir Modred ; Arthur's dream, and Gauvain's ghost; 
 The parley, and the shock of either host ; 
 The sword into the river cast ; the hand 
 Thrust from the vraves, to catch the charmed brand; 
 The ominous barge, slov»r parting from the shore, 
 Yfraught with doleful damsels, weeping sore. 
 All these, and other scenes, were quaintly dight. 
 But to my tale I turn, and of the child indite. 
 
 He enter'd on a hall, where stood the board, 
 With savoury cates and costly viands stored. 
 Here, too, fresh cause of wonderment did rise : 
 Nor dulcimer, nor harp, nor rote he spies. 
 Nor varlet to array the meats, nor priest 
 To bless the board, nor guest to grace the feast ; 
 
CANTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 13 
 
 And much his mind misgave, some secret snare 
 Did lurk beneath a guise so strange and rare. 
 When, tho' no wight appear'd, fast by, a string 
 Was touch'd, and to the harp a voice 'gan sing : 
 
 " Child, of heart so faint, 
 " That dream' St, I know not what of ill, 
 " Peril there is none in sooth : 
 *' Hence with ill-advised restraint ! 
 " High the sparkling goblet fill. 
 " Sure it asks no reason quaint, 
 " Sure it matters little skill, 
 " All in colours plain to paint 
 " This simple truth : 
 
 " Thorough Nature's visage fair, 
 '^ Be't in water, land, or air, 
 " Good to ill doth aye succeed : 
 " After winter cometh spring, 
 
14 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i. 
 
 " Wanes the night, in sparkling weed, 
 " Morn up-springeth, in her stead. 
 " Thou shalt well approve this lede : 
 " Joy thou wot' St not of, shall bring 
 " That which, or I falsely read, 
 " Of sorrow past shall 'suage the sting." 
 
 Cheer' d by the song, ere yet he framed the wish, 
 Pass'd to his hand, in turn, each costly dish ; 
 And a fair cup of gold itself did fill. 
 And, oft exhausted, was replenish'd still. 
 Choice fruits and dainty conserves came the last ; 
 Claret and pigment crown' d the rich repast. 
 
 The costly banquet done, the sightless crew. 
 That served him at the board, with lights withdrew ; 
 Thence pass'd into a bow'r, where stood a bed, 
 With milk-white furs of Alexandria spread : 
 Beneath, a richly broider'd vallance hung ; 
 The pillows were of silk ; o'er all was flung 
 
CANTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 15 
 
 A rare-wrought coverlet of phoenix plumes, 
 Which breathed, as warm mth life, its rich per- 
 fumes. 
 Here the quaint elves the wondering child undrest, 
 And on the snow-white ermine laid to rest. 
 
 This done, the tapers sunk, slow creak'd the door. 
 And a soft foot-fall sounded on the floor. 
 Melior, in sooth, it was; the sovereign fay, 
 The wardress of that keep and garden gay. 
 She on the bed her dainty limbs down-laid. 
 Then started, and, as one affrighted, said : 
 
 *' Hence, whosoe'er! hence ! or my knights I call, 
 " And yield thee to their swords an helpless thrall." 
 
 She ended, — and in few the boy display'd. 
 How late he wander'd in the green-wood shade ; 
 From thence, by fairy sleight, to those fair realms 
 convey'd ; 
 
16 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i. 
 
 And added words that might her ire assuage, 
 And craved, for that one night, short harbourage. 
 
 Ill might the damsel boon uphold her cheer 
 Of counterfeited wrath, and tone severe. 
 Albe she nothing said, belike 'twas meant 
 Her silence should be construed for consent. 
 Then turning from the boy, it seem'd as she 
 Lay lapt at once in sweet tranquillity. 
 
 Certes, I cast not here to tell how soon. 
 Or pray'r, or force, obtain'd a sweeter boon. 
 Love, as 'tis said, by sufferance waxeth bold. — 
 Lordings, the rest is better guess'd than told. 
 
 • Yet, blest beyond his hope, the restless boy 
 Felt somewhat still was wanting to his joy : 
 It was in light to view the imagined charms 
 Of the sweet fairy, lock'd within his arms. 
 
CANTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 17 
 
 To him that damsel boon : — " Thy wish forego ; 
 " Sad fountain, if indulged, of shame and woe. 
 " Yet more ; thou here, until a spell be done, 
 " Unseen of living wight, must make thy won ; 
 *^ But not deprived of fitting pastimes, live ; 
 " Share whatsoever joys mine art can give. 
 " Say, do the crystal streams, or woods delight ? — 
 " Falcons and tiercelets I mew for flight. 
 " And at thy morrow's rising thou shalt find 
 *' A wonderous horn ; the fairy bugle wind ; 
 *' My hounds shall hear the call ; to merrier cry 
 " Did never shaggy holt, or hill reply. 
 " Melior, unseen, each new desire shall aid ; 
 ** Frame but the wish, and find that wish obey'd. 
 
 " More than thou know*st, Imaynot, dare not tell, 
 " Save this, that with our wedlock ends the spell. 
 *' Ere that, alas ! two years must pass away ; 
 " Save with a knight I may not plight my fay. 
 
18 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS, panto i, 
 
 " 111 would mine haughty feudatories bear 
 
 " A beardless squire should fill the regal chair. 
 
 " Know, far and wide extends^my proud domain ;^ 
 " Princes and dukes I number in my train, 
 " And haughty castellains, and barons bold, 
 " And monarch s, who their realms by homage hold. 
 " These ween'd me all too young to rule alone, 
 *' So will'd me choose a partner of my throne ; 
 " Some prince, — they reck'd not of his wealth, or 
 
 dower, 
 " So he were wise of rede, and stiff in stower. 
 " With this proviso, that their general voice 
 " Should ratify their youthful suzerain's choice. 
 " Thee then I chose ; for thee, by fairy lore, 
 '^ I wrought the wonderous chase, and roused the 
 
 boar, 
 *' Thatforced thee from thy train; for thee my sprites 
 *' Press'd this unfading garden of delights. 
 
CANTO 1. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 19 
 
 " But first I cast thy stedfast faith to prove, 
 " Nor grant the last and best reward of love, 
 *' Till, conscious of thy w^orth, with glad accord, 
 " Mine haughty vassals own'd thee for their lord. 
 "But thee, oh ! give me not to rue the hour, 
 *' The heedless elves conducted to my bow'r, 
 " Not such mine hest. What boots the rest to tell? 
 '* Ah, deem it not a crime to love too well !" 
 
 Much said the child in turn ; the sum was this : 
 To yield him to her will in bale, or bliss. 
 Love passing proof he swore ; and still, besure, 
 Did grace his speech vrith goodliest garniture ; 
 (For, as King Solomon hath whilom sung, 
 *Tis fulness of the heart informs the tongue ;) 
 But with long toil forespent, and travel past. 
 Lies lapt in dull forgetfulness at last. 
 Not so the damsel ; she, 'twixt fear and joy. 
 Kept watch and ward upon the sleeping boy ; 
 
flO PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i. 
 
 But, mindful of the charm, in tears withdrew, 
 Ere the first sun-beams glitter'd on the dew. 
 
 Awaked, Partenopex, sore wondering, deems 
 His blissful lot the sport of idle dreams ; 
 But, of the truth assured, with rapture view'd 
 The promised horn, with magic pow'r endued. 
 And store of kirtles and of garments gay. 
 The costly presents of his bounteous fay. 
 
 Then, done the noon-tide feast, his bugle slung. 
 Leapt on his steed, and prick'd the woods among : 
 He lent it breath, and, from the wilds around, 
 Yet echo did bemock the merry sound. 
 When, as his lady leman told before. 
 Round flock'd the lusty rousers of the boar ; 
 Each couple well- wrought chains of steel did hold. 
 Their necks were circled round with burning gold : 
 It seem'd as from one dam their blood they drew. 
 So match'd they were in shape, and all of sable hue. 
 
CANTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 21 
 
 The pastime to describe too long would hold. 
 And 'twere, beside, to tell a tale that's told. 
 Suffice, the quarry brought to ground, he blew 
 The prise, and to his dogs the carcase threw. 
 They, batten'd with the spoil, by some strange sleight 
 Of grammary, evanish'd clean from sight. 
 One only couple stay'd, as of accord. 
 To claim a closer quaintance of their lord. 
 And these the damsel gave, in hall, or bow'r. 
 To cheer by whiles the solitary hour ; 
 And taught their names; this Gage, and Gilmyn he; 
 Thus were the twain benempt in fayery. 
 
 So, spent in various solace, pass'd the day ; 
 At night his couch received the royal fay. 
 A parlous wit she had ; and could of lore. 
 And eke of ancient tales, a countless store. 
 And oft sage rules and precepts would she deal. 
 Such as might well his youthful bosom steel 
 
aa PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto u 
 
 'Gainst vicious lures 7 and still, her rede betwixt, 
 
 Ensamples of recorded virtue mixt. 
 
 Nor charm' d the damsel less, when, boon and gay, 
 
 More lightsome phantasy did bear the sway. 
 
 Tender or free, in smiles or sadness drest. 
 
 The reigning humour seem'd to grace her best. 
 
 And still, whate'er the theme, so soft, so clear. 
 
 Her gentle accents sounded on his ear. 
 
 That, of all gifts the lovely dame might boast. 
 
 Perchance this sweet perfection liked him most. 
 
 In this I blame him not : of every grace 
 That tricks my love, 'hove dainty form, or face. 
 That which doth most my captive soul rejoice, 
 Is the sweet music of her thrilling voice. 
 But worser plight is mine ; predoom'd, in vain 
 To chase a fleeting good that mocks my pain. 
 His mistress did prevent his every thought. 
 Mine flouts my love-sick phantasy to nought- 
 
(jANTo I. pAIiTENOP^X DE BLOIS. 83 
 
 If in his cup some bitter drops, were thrown. 
 My draught is brew'd with noxious drugs alone. 
 
 Yet he, — for perfect happiness is not, 
 
 Would now remember him of friends forgot. 
 This saw the dame, for love is eagle-eyed. 
 And, " Ween not, Child Partenopex," she cried^ 
 " To hide thy secret thoughts, nor think thy fay, 
 " When duty bids thee hence, would bar thy way. 
 *' Thy sire and king are dead ; and Northmen whelm 
 " Dire havoc upon Gaul's defenceless realm : 
 *' E'en now their battles are abroad ; they ford 
 " The Loire, and smite thy people with the sword. 
 But thou, when morn shall chase the shadows dark, 
 Go, get thee to the shore, and climb the barque : 
 ". Myself huge store of treasure will supply ; 
 " With this bold chiefs and bands adventurous buy; 
 " Knights and renowned squires enured to strife, 
 " Patient of toil, and prodigal of life, 
 
 (( 
 
 (( 
 
«4 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i, 
 
 " Then bid thy vassals to the tented plain ; 
 
 " Gird thy good sword, and give thy wrath the rein. 
 
 " But, duty's debt appaid, believe, thy fay 
 
 " Chides sore each moment of protracted stay." 
 
 She said; and, as she fear'd her cheer should shew 
 The secret of her ill dissembled woe, 
 E'en ere the child might miss her from his side. 
 Upstarted, and from forth the bow'r did glide. 
 Nor long, tho' wavering with contrarious thought. 
 And half repentant of the boon he sought, 
 Behind the County linger d ; forth he flung. 
 Ere the first bells for early matins rung. 
 
 He climbs the barge ; the vessel owns the breeze, 
 Snaps her light cords, and shoots athwart the seas. 
 Outstretch' d upon the deck, (so wrought the spell) 
 Again sweet slumber on his eye-lids fell ; 
 Nor waked the prince, till, with the second sun, 
 The gallant barque, her wonderous voyage run. 
 
CANTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 25 
 
 Moor'd by the viewless crew, securely rides. 
 Where the swift Loire thro' flowery meadows glides. 
 
 Roused by the joyful dogs, who bay'd the land. 
 Upstarts the child, and issues on the strand ; 
 And sees where, gilded by the western beam, 
 Blois' airy tow'rs in bright perspective gleam. 
 
 He scant had touch'd the shore, when to his sight, 
 Bow'd down with eld, appear d a stranger knight. 
 Of sumpter-nags he led a goodly train ; 
 Of each a liveried lacquey held the rein. 
 Before the boy that ancient louted low. 
 And in meet terms did thus his errand shew : 
 
 " Gentle Partenopex, thy royal fay 
 " Salutes thee with what loving cheer she may. 
 " By me she sends these rounceys stout, who bear 
 " Large sums of gold, the sinews of the war. 
 
£6 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i. 
 
 *^ Nor spare with niggard hand the shining store ; 
 " This countless treasure spent, she deals thee more. 
 " Observance of her hest all scores shall quite ; 
 "She wills no hand but hers should dub thee knight.'* 
 
 I pass how Blois from forth her straiten'd wall 
 Poured her bold burghers, at her prince's call ; 
 How France awaken' d, and what succours came, 
 Or 'ticed by fairy gold, or better fame ; 
 How singly thro' his foes he hew'd a lane, 
 Heap'd on each side with ramparts of the slain ; 
 The rest but closed the path their leader made. 
 And glean'd the worthless refuse of his blade. 
 His welcome, sports and pageants, I forbear. 
 And haste to feats of love, a more delightful care. 
 
 Amid the general joy, Blois' widow' d dame 
 Work'd with close art to quench the prince's flame. 
 She, — ^tho' from him she hid such fancy, — ween'd 
 The child a thrall to some enamour'd fiend ; 
 
CANTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 27 
 
 And, — for she thought a second love might best 
 Expel the fatal poison from his breast, — 
 Wrought on the youthful king, in wedlock's band, 
 To grace him with his blooming niece's hand ; 
 Herself she vow'd, by all controlling charms, 
 Should force the truant to that damsel's arms. 
 
 t 
 
 To her the wily dame, who well did scan 
 The maiden's thought, with sober cheer began : 
 
 " Damsel, my niece, parfay it moves my ruth, 
 *' Vain love should blight the promise of thy youth ; 
 " While he, by whom thy virgin heart is wrung, 
 " On a vile elf his base desires hath flung. 
 " Melior the phantom's name : with her he dwells, 
 " Lapt in imagined bliss, and limed by spells^. 
 " Yet" — (and she gave a fairy philtre, brew'd 
 With wonder-working herbs ; then thus pursued :) 
 " Yet may this drink of might absolve his shame, 
 " And kindle in his breast a purer flame." 
 
«8 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto i. 
 
 It chanced, the Count, (to make my story short) 
 Lit from his steed, foredone with woodland sport. 
 Him the boon damsel met, and fair besought 
 " He would assay the drink herself had wrought ; 
 " And ween'd that he should find that beverage 
 
 sweet 
 " A sovereign remedy for inward heat." 
 Rare wonder ! scantly might he sip the bowl, 
 Ere a strange frenzy fired his alter'd soul ; 
 He prints her burning cheeks with many a kiss, 
 Stiles her, his liege, his love, his sovereign bliss ! — 
 And, " Be these herbs," she cried, " twice, trebly 
 
 blest, 
 " That blot the accursed Melior from thy breast !" 
 She spake : and at the name, like one aghast. 
 He stared; the charm was broke, the witchery past. 
 
 He leaps upon his courser, plies the gore. 
 And flies as shame and sorrow dogg'd him sore. 
 
CANTO I. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 20 
 
 And now the stripling gain'd Loire's flowery side, 
 And saw the fairy ship at anchor ride ; 
 Breathless, he climbs the deck ; a favouring breeze 
 Springs, and the shallop darts across the seas. 
 
 END OF CANTO FIRST. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 In olden time, derived of Tryan strain. — P. 4. • 
 
 The pretence to a Trojan origin was made by both France and 
 Britain during the middle ages. In the original, the foundation of 
 the French monarchy is attributed to Marcomeris, a son of Hector, 
 brought from Troy by Anchises, on the destruction of that city, and 
 educated with iEneas. Arriving at manhood, he, according to the 
 romancer, traversed the Alps, and, settling in Gaul, laid the first 
 stone of that empire. In this account, Anchises is charged with ha- 
 ving betrayed his country to the Greeks. Here, as M. Le Grand 
 justly observes, the author has blundered between the father and the 
 son. It is said, that the reproach of having sold Troy to its ene- 
 mies was, previous to the time of Virgil, common to both Jineas 
 and Antenor; and the escape of these two leaders, if true, forms 
 some presumption in favour of the supposition. Others, says Le 
 Grand, give the founder of the French monarchy the name of Fran- 
 cus, from whom the inhabitants of that country, according to the 
 same authority, derive their denomination. Others pretend, that 
 Hector himself survived the ruin of his native city, and, with a 
 party of fugitive Trojans, formed an establishment in Gaul. 
 
 And wound ajoijiful summons to the feast. — P. 5. 
 The following extract from Erasmus's Praise of Folly, will shew 
 how long these qualifications continued to be admired. " Among 
 
St NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 " these, (he has been enumerating varieties of fools) are to be rank- 
 " ed such as take an immoderate delight in hunting, and think no 
 " music comparable to the sounding of horns, and yelping of beagles; 
 " and, were they to take physic, would no question think the most 
 " sovereign virtues to be in the album grcecum of a dog's ****. 
 " When they have run down their game, what strange pleasure they 
 " take in cutting of it up ! Cows and sheep may be slaughtered by 
 " common butchers, but what is killed in hunting must be broke up 
 " by none under a gentleman, who shall throw down his hat, fall 
 " devoutly on his knees, and, drawing out a slashing hanger, (for a 
 *' common knife is not good enough,) after several ceremonies, shall 
 " dissect all the parts as artificially as the best skilled anatomist ; 
 " while all that stand round shall look very intently, and seem to be 
 " mightily surprised with the novelty, though they have seen the 
 " same a hundred times before ; and he that can but dip his finger, 
 " and taste of the blood, shall think his own bettered by it. And 
 " though the constant feeding on such diet does but assimilate them 
 " to the nature of those beasts they eat of, yet they'll swear that ve- 
 " nison is meat for princes, and that their living upon it makes them 
 " as great as emperors." — Kennett's Translation. 
 
 The absurdity of attaching importance to such pursuits, the ex- 
 travagant length of time devoted to their acquirement, (namely, 
 seven years spent in the study of The mysteries of woods and rivers, 
 that is, hunting and hawking,) and the mist of pedantry and affecta- 
 tion in which these studies were involved, will appear less striking 
 on a general consideration of the habits and opinions of the middle 
 ages. It is observed by Mr Scott, in his Notes on Sir Tkistrem, 
 that, " in an age when knowledge was rare, there prevailed a natu- 
 " ral disposition to attach mystery to the most common trades, and 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 33 
 
 " even to the amusements of the period. Arts, but imperfectly 
 " known to the professors themselves, were rendered dark and im- 
 " penetrable to the uninitiated, by the introduction of minute forms, 
 " and the use of a peculiar phraseology. Shrouded by such disguises, 
 " ignorance itself assumed the language and port of mysterious 
 " knowledge, and the mystic orders of religion and of chivalry were 
 " imitated in the inferior associations of mechanics and fellow-crafts. 
 " It is therefore no wonder that the chase, the exclusive amusement, 
 " or rather the only pacific employment, of the great, should be 
 " decorated with an appropriate diction, and rendered solemn by an 
 " established code of regulations." 
 
 Nor are these sports only to be considered as the mere amusement 
 of a martial and unlettered nobility. The chase, till within a com- 
 paratively late period of society, was a concern of the most serious 
 importance, as it furnished the principal means of subsistence, pre- 
 vious to the improvement of agriculture. In a record, relating to 
 the expences of Edward III., a large sum is charged for the provi- 
 sioning several of his castles with salted venison; and the site of 
 monasteries had frequently a reference to this consideration. In the 
 romance of Melusme, the King of France makes a grant of ground 
 for a priory in the neighbourhood of a forest, and, at the same 
 time, gives the monks licence de prendre en la forest oyseaux et saU' 
 vagines, pour leurs vivre en leur hostel. — Histoire de Melusine. 
 
 Worse than afore the gentle valet sped. — P. 6. 
 
 The title of varlet, or valet, synonimous with that of Damoiseau in 
 French, and Knave in English, was given indifferently to the sons of 
 kings and great nobles, not yet knighted. In Villehardouin, the son 
 of the Emperor of the East is denominated Varlet de Constantinople ; 
 
 E 
 
84 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 and m the account of the house of Philip the Fair, the three chil- 
 dren of that monarch, as well as several other princes, are styled 
 varlets. Hence the prince, in a pack of cards, is by the French still 
 called Varkt, and by the English Knave. This term, as well as that 
 of squire, has two different significations. In the story of the Trots 
 Aveugles de Compiegne, the attendant of a clerk is sometimes called 
 valet, and sometimes ecuyer, the same name being applied to a ser- 
 vant and the son of a noble, or king. M. Le Grand is anxious to 
 derive the two senses, in which the latter word is used, from two 
 different sources ; supposing that, when given to a noble, it is deri- 
 ved from ecu, as bearing the shield ; and that, when applied to a more 
 ignoble state of servitude, it owes its origin to ecurie, as a servant 
 employed in the stable. — See Le Grand's Notes to the Fabliau of 
 Aucassin et Nicoktte, and the Trots Aveugles de Compiegne, Tom. iii. 
 
 Gay was the hull, and seemly to behold. — P. 7- 
 
 Such splendid barques are common in romance. In Richard Coeur 
 de Lyon, messengers of Henry II. meet at sea a vessel of this descripr- 
 tion: 
 
 Suche ne sawe they never none ; 
 For it was so gay begone. 
 Every nayle with gold ygrave ; 
 Of pure gold was his sclave ; 
 Her mast was of y very ; 
 Of samite her sayle wy tly ; 
 Her ropes al of whyte silke. 
 As whyte as ever was ony mylke. 
 The noble shyp was, wythout. 
 With clothes of gold spred about; 
 ' And her loft and her wyndlace 
 
 Al of gold depaynted wan. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST, 35 
 
 Self steer d, oer sparkling waves the vessel jftexc. — P. 7- 
 
 In the Morte Arthur is a fine wild adventure, which, in its com- 
 mencement, bears some resemblance to the present. King Arthur, 
 together with one of his knights, being separated from his suite, du- 
 ring a severe chase, perceives a beavitiful barque at anchor on a lake. 
 The monarch and his companion go on board, and are sumptuously 
 entertained. The parallel between the two stories ends here, for Ar- 
 thur, having fallen asleep, wakes prisoner in a dungeon. — Morte 
 Arthur, Part I. 
 
 The Lay of Gugemer is built on an incident precisely similar to 
 the present. 
 
 There is also an adventure of a similar nature in the romance of 
 Claris and Laris, where a ferry is served by a self-navigated boat. 
 But here the transport was conditional, and no disloyal persons 
 might attempt the passage, but paid the price of such temerity with 
 their lives. 
 
 Claris and Laris had been lovers during the lifetime of the lady's 
 husband, and the despairing knight was reduced by passion to the 
 last extremities. His mistress was, at this crisis, induced to try the 
 healing power of a single kiss ; a medicine which instantly restored 
 him to his former vigour. 
 
 The husband of Laris dying opportunely, she passed this ferry in 
 the enchanted barque, accompanied by Claris, in their passage to his 
 father's kingdom, where he was to receive the last reward of his fi- 
 delity. Having nearly accomplished the voyage, considered as an 
 incontrovertible test of virtue, she indulged in a strain of exultation, 
 which experience proved to have been ill-timed; for, scarcely had 
 she set foot upon the shore, when an invisible hand plunged her 
 
86 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 backwards into the water. Justice was satisfied with this immer- 
 sion, and she was dragged to land by her lover, who appears to have 
 been more amused by the adventure than should seem consistent 
 with the delicacy of a preux chevalier. 
 
 The fiction of these enchanted vessels is, together with many other 
 parts of romantic machinery, to be found both in Grecian and in 
 Celtic fable. In the eighth book of the Odyssey, Alcinous says to 
 Ulysses ; 
 
 " So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign'd 
 
 " In wonderous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind ; 
 
 " No helm secures their course, no pilot guides ; 
 
 " Like men intelligent, they plough the tides, 
 
 " Conscious of every coast, and every bay, 
 
 « That lies beneath the sun's all-seeing ray." 
 
 Pope's Translation of the Odj/ssey. 
 
 Mr Macpherson has also given an extract from an old Gaelic tale, 
 which is built upon a similar foundation : 
 
 " Sgeir, ^ an ancient druid, though his command extended over 
 " the elements, was dissatisfied with the narrow limits of his know- 
 " ledge, and panted for a sight of the Green Island of the West. " 
 " One day, as he sat meditating on a rock, a storm arose, and a 
 " cloud, under whose skirts the waters were troubled, rushed to- 
 " wards him. From its womb issued forth a boat, with her sails 
 " bent to the wind, and hung round with a thousand oars ; but it 
 
 ^ Sgeir signifies, in Gaelic, a rock in the sea. 
 
 b Termed Flath Innis, or Flailieas, that is, The Isle of Heroes ; the paradise of Celtic 
 mythology. The word is preserved in the Gaelic translation of the English liturgy, 
 where it stands for the Christian heaven. 
 
 / 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 37 
 
 " \vas unfurnished with mariners, itself seeming to live and move. 
 " An unusual terror seized upon the druid. He heard a voice, 
 " though he saw no human being : ' Arise, behold the boat of the 
 " heroes ! Arise, and see the green isle of those who have passed 
 " away.' 
 
 " Under the influence of a secret but irresistible force, he em- 
 " barked in the miraculous boat, and sailed, during seven days, in 
 " the bosom of the cloud. His ears (says the tale) were stunned 
 " with shrill voices ; the dull murmur of winds passed him on ei- 
 " ther side. He slept not, yet were not his eyes heavy. He eat 
 " not, yet was he not hungry. On the eighth day, the waves swell- 
 " ed into mountains ; the boat was rocked violently from side to 
 " side : The darkness thickened around him ; when a thousand voices 
 " at once exclaimed, ' The isle ! The isle !' The billows opened 
 " wide before him : The calm land of the departed rushed in light 
 " upon his eyes." 
 
 Very little reliance is to be placed in the Gaelic tales, as exhibit- 
 ing faithful pictures of original Celtic superstitions; but Mr Mac- 
 pherson has vouched the authenticity of this national legend by a 
 passage from Procopius. 
 
 With stones of many-coloured hues inlaid. — P. 8. 
 
 The description of this fairy building bears a great resemblance to 
 the Castle of Tintagel, the residence of King Mark of Cornwall. 
 The original describes these walls of Chedoire, as built de marbre 
 rouge et blanc, arrange par compartiment en echiquier. Those of Tin- 
 tagel were composed of bricks, alternately red and blue. In other 
 points, such as in being built near a capacious port, and commanding 
 rich meadows and forests full of game, these two buildings almost 
 
 4 
 
38 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 exactly corFespond. Vide in Scott's Sir Tristrem, Ellis's precis of 
 a French romance on the same subject, page 206. 
 
 This edifice of Tintagel was supposed to have been built by giants. 
 So the giant Beliagog, vanquished by Sir Tristrem, promises to build 
 him a hall. 
 
 Beliagogue in hight. 
 
 Nought lain. 
 An hall to make him bright^. 
 To Ysonde and Brengwain. 
 
 Sir Tristrem, Fytte Third. 
 
 The erection of wonderful castles and palaces is the constant work 
 of fairies and giants in romance. In addition to the castle of Che- 
 doire, see the account of the fortresses raised by Melusine in France, 
 and Morgue, the fay, in Britain, &c. This is also common to the 
 Orientals. The genii, who were styled, by the Persians, Peries and 
 Dives, were famous for their architectural skill. The pyramids of 
 Egypt have been ascribed to them ; and we are told of a strange 
 fortress, which they constructed in the remote mountains of Spain, 
 which presented the following inscription : 
 
 " It is no light task to disclose the portal of this asylum. The 
 " bolt, rash passenger, is not of iron, but the tooth of a furious dra- 
 " gon. Know thou, that no one can break this charm, till destiny 
 *' shall have consigned the key to his adventurous hand." 
 
 The Koran relates, that genii were employed by Solomon ijn the 
 erection of his magnificent temple. 
 
 The explanation of this belief is sufficiently obvious; but it is so 
 well expressed by Sir Joshua Reynolds, that I shall transcribe his 
 words : " The travellers into the East tell us," says he, " that when 
 ** the ignorant inhabitants of those countries are interrogated con* 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 39 
 
 " cerning the ruins of stately edifices yet remaining amongst them, 
 " the melancholy monuments of their former grandeur and long lost 
 " science, they always answer, that they were built by magicians. 
 " The untaught mind finds a vast gulph between its own powers and 
 " those works of complicated art, which it is utterly unable to fa- 
 " thom ; and it supposes, that such a void can only be passed by su- 
 " pernatural means." — Discourse VI. Vol. I. Reynolds' Wokks. 
 
 Beneath the porch, in rich mosaic, blaze 
 The sun, and silver lamp that drinks his rays. 
 Here stood the symhoVd elements pour tray d. — P. Q. 
 
 This mosaic was probably intended for purposes of necromancy, 
 as well as ornament. It is scarcely necessary to state, that judicial 
 astrology was considered, during the middle ages, as one of the ne- 
 cessary helps to magic. In a work entitled, Ars Magica, sive Ma- 
 gia Naturalis et Artificiosa, 8^c. Cap. II. De Sigillis Magicis, are the 
 following instructions for erecting certain astrological figures : 
 
 " Ad favorem regum et principum conciliandum morbosque calidos 
 " cordiales curandos, imago solis, in auro piiro, primd leonis Jacie, fa- 
 " bricetur. 
 
 " Ad bona et honores adipiscendos morbosque cerebri frigidos curan- 
 " dos, imaginem lunce conferre," 8^'c. * 
 
 Leo also, in his " History of Africa," gives an account of an as- 
 trological scheme, erected by the professors of natural magique in 
 Fez, and states, amongst other devices, such as the sun, the moon, 
 
 * To conciliate the favour of kings and princes, and to remedy hot diseases of the 
 heart, form, in pure gold, the image of the sun entering upon Leo ; that of the moon, for 
 the attainment of wealth and honours, and the cure of cold diseases of the braiu. 
 
40 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 the seven planets, &c. that about the circumference of the first 
 circle they " paynt the fower elements." — Leo's History of Africa^ 
 p. 149. 
 
 These were supposed to be possessed of peculiar virtues, and were 
 each symboled by three of the zodiacal signs. A minute description 
 of the properties and emblems of one will be sufficient : " Ignea 
 " tripUc'Uatis, id est arietis, leonis et sagitariijigura, sculpta lapide pre- 
 " tioso, omnibus frigidis cegritudinibus valere perhibetur, opitulariq.fe- 
 " bribus phlegmaticis, et ob planetarum, qui in illis signis tenent domi- 
 " nium, dignitatem, reddere dec et hominibus gratum, facundum, in- 
 " geniosum, honorumq. et dignitatum facile potiri valentem. Debet 
 " autem ita sculpi, ut in triangulo leo teneat cmium, aries in basi dex- 
 " tram, Sagittarius sinistram." "" In the same manner, earth was repre- 
 sented by Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn ; air by Gemini, Libra, and 
 Aquarius ; water by Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces. 
 
 Atid storied loves of knights and court ly dames. — P. 9. 
 
 In the romance of Emare, an emperor is presented with a cloth 
 
 curiously wrought. 
 
 In that on korner was made 
 Idoyne and Amadas, 
 
 With love that was so trewe : 
 
 •> The triple form of fire, that is, of Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius, represented in pre- 
 cious stone, is reported to be of avail in all cold ailments ; to be serviceable in phleg- 
 matic fevers; and, on account of the dignity of the planets who hold dominion in those 
 signs, to render one acceptable to God and man, well spoken, witty, and capable to the 
 enjoyment of honours and dignities. It ought, moreover, so to be pictured, that, in a 
 triangle, Leo may hold the top, Aries, upon the base, the right, Sagittarius the left. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 41 
 
 For they loveden hem with honour, 
 Pourtray'd they wer with trewe-love flour 
 Of stones bryght of hewe. 
 
 - In that other corner was dyght, 
 Trystram and Isowde so bryght. 
 That semely were to see, &c. &c. 
 
 Ritson's Metrical Romances, Vol. II. 
 
 So in the hall, before mentioned, which Beliagog built for Sir 
 Tristrem: 
 
 At his days, in the halle, 
 
 Swete Ysonde was wrought, 
 Hodain * and Pen Cru to call ; 
 
 The drink hou Brengwain brought ; 
 Marke yclad in palle. 
 
 And Meriadok, full of thought : 
 So liifliche weren thai alle, 
 
 Ymages semed it nought. 
 To abide ; 
 And Tristrem how he fought 
 With Beliagog unride. 
 
 The use of ornamental furniture, representing historical, romantic, 
 and Scriptural stories, was universal amongst the nobility of the 
 middle ages. " I will add a new proof," says Warton, in his History 
 of English Poetry, " of the reverence in which such stories were 
 " held, and of the famiharity with which they must have been 
 " known to our ancestors. These fables (romances) were not only 
 " perpetually repeated at their festivals, but were the constant ob- 
 
 » Hodain and Pen Cru, two dogs so called. 
 
4'2 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 " jects of their eyes. The very walls of their apartments were clo- 
 " thed with romantic histories." Then follows an account of suits 
 of arras, thus wrought, too tedious to describe. Sometimes the work, 
 which perhaps, as he observes, stood in much need of such illus- 
 tration, was explained by short sentences in rhyme ; Vol. I. p. 209. 
 He traces this custom to a very distant source : " I have before 
 " mentioned," he continues, " that the most valuable, and perhaps 
 " most ancient, work of this sort, now existing, is the entire series 
 " of Duke William's descent on England, preserved in the church of 
 " Bayeux, in Normandy, and intended as an ornament of the choir 
 " on high festivals. Bartholinus relates, that it was an art much 
 " cultivated among the ancient Icelanders, to weave the history of 
 " their giants and champions in tapestry," He then proceeds to ob- 
 serve, that this practice, prevalent also amongst the nations of clas- 
 sical antiquity, was common to the countries of China and Japan. 
 
 Fbres and maiden Blanch/lower here were seen, 
 With trefoil and with true-love, knot between. — P. 1 0. 
 The hero and heroine of a Spanish, or, more probably, an old 
 French romance: their portraits in tapestry are represented as ac- 
 companied with such device. The true-love knot, in this place, 
 as well from its being joined with the trefoil, as from a passage in 
 Chaucer, which has been explained by Stevens, appears to have been 
 an herb. He quotes from Gerard's Herbal: " Herba Paris, One 
 " berrie, or herb Tpuelove; at the very top whereof come forth fower 
 " leaves, directly set one against another, in manner of a Burgunnion- 
 " cross, or a true-love knot; for which cause, amongst the ancients, 
 " it hath been called Herbe True-love." 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 43 
 
 Here to child Tristram, ^c. — P. 10. , 
 
 The story of Tristram and Yseult is too well known to require a 
 comment. 
 
 Here stood fair Guenever, S^c. — P. 10. 
 
 Queen Guenever, sentenced to the stake for her loves with Sir 
 Launcelot, was rescued by that knight. This incident gave rise to 
 a severe and bloody war between the Suzerain and his vassal, during 
 which Sir Launcelot exhibited a degree of generous forbearance, 
 which might seem almost to atone for his past disloyalty. 
 
 At length Arthur is recalled from France, the scene of hostilities, 
 by news of an invasion of Britain, under the conduct of Modred, 
 who stood towards him in the double relation of nephew and son. 
 He is warned, by the ghost of Sir Gauvaine, in a dream, to delay 
 the battle till the arrival of Sir Launcelot, who, with unparalleled 
 gallantry, was hastening to his assistance. Under the impression 
 of this vision, he requests a conference with the enemy. A parley 
 is agreed upon, and a certain number of knights accompany their 
 respective princes to the place of rendezvous. Each, however, sus- 
 picious of the other, advises his troops, that a sword shewn on either 
 side is to be considered as a signal for the onset. One of the party, 
 stung by an adder, draws his sabre to destroy it. The armies in- 
 stantly join ; an almost universal slaughter ensues ; Modred is killed, 
 and Arthur desperately wounded. In this situation, he confides his 
 sword Excalibar to Sir Bediver, the butler, with directions to throw 
 it into a neighbouring river. After some evasions and delay, he 
 complies with this injunction, when a hand appears from the waters, 
 and, after brandishing it thrice, vanishes from view. Soon after- 
 
4* NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 ^va^ds arrives a barge full of weeping damsels, who carry King Ar- 
 thur from the land. From this time he is heard of no more. Sir 
 Bediver, however, gathers from the conversation of these damsels, 
 that it was Morgue, with some sister Fairies, who came to convey 
 the king to the isle of Avalon^ for the recovery of his healtli; but 
 that his tardiness in fulfilling Arthur's commission, apparently the 
 signal for their arrival, might frustrate those benevolent intentions. 
 
 Some affirm, that the king's body was found on the field of battle, 
 and afterwards royally interred; some, that he died in the isle of 
 Avalon; some, that he lives there still, and will hereafter reign over 
 Britain. 
 
 As for Queen Guenever, she departed this life, a most repentant 
 sinner ; as did her lover Sir Launcelot, who assumed the hermit's 
 frock. As he appears never to have changed the hair shirt which 
 he wore next his skin, from his first adoption of that garment to the 
 time of his decease, he may truly be said to have died en odeur de 
 sa'mtete. 
 
 Nor dulcimer, nor harp, nor rote he spies. — P. 12. / 
 
 These were necessary appendages to the tables of the great, whose 
 feasts were enlivened by the recitation of tales or romances, by lays 
 sung to musical instruments, and tricks of jugglery and legerdemain. 
 The nobility, in general, enjoyed these amusements only on solemn 
 festivals, or on the accidental arrival of a troop of minstrels or jug- 
 glers at their castles ; but kings and great princes, whose revenues 
 
 ^ Innis Avalon, is, in Welch, the Isle of Apples. Innis Ahliallan (pronounced in the 
 same manner) has, in Gaelic, a similar meaning. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 45 
 
 enabled them to purchase such a constant source of amusement, en- 
 tertained a troop of these men on permanent pay. 
 
 fast by, a string 
 
 fVas toucKd, Sgc. — P. 13. 
 
 Though this is not in the original, many points of resemblance be- 
 tween the romance, and the story from which the idea is borrowed, 
 will form the subject of some future note. ' 
 
 Claret and pigment crawrid the rich repast. — P. 14. 
 
 Claret was wine mixed with honey; and pigment, wine medicated 
 with both honey and spice. This was the 'vin du coucher, of which 
 we so often read in old memoirs and romances. 
 
 a bed, 
 
 With milk-white furs of Alexandria spread. — P. 14. 
 
 Furs, carpets, and precious stuffs, formed the stratum of beds du- 
 ring the middle ages. These, as well as all other articles, the pro- 
 duction, or manufacture of the East, were imported from Alexandria, 
 the entrepot between Europe and Asia previous to the discovery of 
 the Cape. In Paris, so late as the seventeenth century, it was the 
 practice to adorn the beds of the sick at the Hotel Dieu, on the feast 
 of the Assumption, with coverlets of fur. 
 
 It was customary with women of quality to leave their beds, with 
 all their accompanying ornaments, as knights did their horses and 
 arms, to the church in which they were buried. This usage was, 
 like many other practices, (so dangerous are precedents in piety,) 
 changed by the clergy into obligation and law. 
 
46 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 oer all wasjiung. 
 
 A rare-brought coverlet qf phoenix plumes. — Pp, 14. 15. 
 
 It seems probable that the feathers of the Bird of Paradise are here 
 meant by the romancer ; as Brown, in his Vulgar Errors, states, 
 that, even in his time, (the seventeenth century) their plumes passed 
 for those of the phoenix. These were imported, together with other 
 productions of the East, before mentioned, from Alexandria. The 
 use to which they are in this place applied, is but of a piece with 
 the general picture of exaggerated luxury and magnificence present- 
 ed to our view. 
 
 Various fowls have, in different countries, usurped the name and 
 honours of the phoenix, though they do not seem to have posses- 
 sed any of her marvellous properties. This bird was supposed to 
 be single in its species, to exhibit the most brilliant variety of 
 plumage, and to enjoy a life of miraculous duration, the lowest cal- 
 culations fixing it at a period of three hundred years. The term of 
 her existence drawing to a conclusion, she was said to construct a 
 funeral pile of aromatic woods and spices, to fire it with the motion 
 of her wings, and expire in the flame. From her ashes sprang a 
 worm, which was m time transformed into a bird, clothed with all 
 the beauty and fabulous properties of the jjarent. This idea, it has 
 been justly observed, was probably suggested by the metamorphosis 
 of the libella, or other insects of the same class. Different writers 
 have assigned Ethiopia, Arabia, and other Asiatic countries, as the 
 abode of this natural wonder. 
 
 According to Dr Brown, many learned men have conceived the 
 whole an ingenious allegory of the immortality of the soul. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 47 
 
 This bird was, amongst the Egyptians, a hieroglyphic of the sun. 
 For the various opinions that have been broached upon the subject, 
 «ts well by naturalists, philosophers and divines, See Brown's Vulgar 
 Errors. 
 
 Melior in sooth it was; the sovereign Jay. — P. 15. 
 
 The fays, in romance, are to be classed under two separate heads : 
 the first order was a sort of link between men and spirits ; as the 
 dryads and other earthly deities were, amongst the ancients, an in- 
 termediate race between men and gods. They possessed many qua- 
 lities in common with the nymphae sorores, such as beauty, gentle- 
 ness of disposition, a fondness for sequestered scenes, and, above all, 
 a love of mankind, not always perfectly disinterested. Such are the 
 Fairies in the lays of Lanval and Gru61an ; such are Pressine and Me- 
 kisina. These, though yielding to the dictates of passion, were ten- 
 der and constant in their attachments : the two latter, indeed, sanc- 
 tified their joys by a legitimate union with their lovers. Others, 
 again, like Morgue, were less delicate in their amours ; these sedu- 
 ced and imprisoned their admirers, and were the Circes of romance. 
 
 The supposition that the Fairies of Europe are derived from the 
 Peris of Persian fiction, seems to be placed almost beyond dispute, 
 by the resemblance between the generic name of this class (the Per- 
 sian letter P being, in the Arabic, changed into F,) and the particu- 
 , lar names borne by individuals, both in Eastern and Western fable. 
 Such are the Urgandas and Mergians of Oriental extraction, whose 
 names are recognized in the appellations of the Urganda and Mor- 
 gana of Europe. Vide Wharton's History of Ancient English Poet- 
 ry, 
 
48 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 Very contradictory opinions seem to have been entertained in 
 Europe respecting the state and powers of these creatures of fancy. 
 One while we are led to suppose them elevated infinitely above the 
 lot of mortality, and, at another, to consider their rank in existence 
 as not comparable to our own. In the lay of Lanval, we see his 
 fay eclipsing the splendour of a queen ; and, in the history of Me- 
 lusine, we find her mother, the Fairj- Pressine, enlarging upon the 
 advantage her daugbler enjoyed, in inheriting a mixture of mortal 
 blood, and in being the issue of a king. This apparent contradic- 
 tion perhaps arose from the opinion entertained by many, and quo- 
 ted from Paracelsus by Lewis in his history of Britain, viz. that 
 they were without souls. He moreover affirms, that when they 
 cohabit with the children of Adam, the children are of our blood, 
 and not of theirs. This opinion is, however, contradicted by the 
 most authentic histories of fayery, particularly that of Melusine, 
 herself a Fairy, whose children gave evident proofs of elfin blood, 
 though their mother was only half bred, and their father a mortal. 
 
 I should here also mention another point of resemblance between 
 the European and Asiatic Fairy. All these sons of Melusine were 
 distinguished, either by some personal deformity, or strange vio- 
 lence of temper. From the story of Pari, or, more properly. Pe- 
 ri Banou, " this appears to have been the case with the male descen- 
 dants and relatives of the Oriental Fairies. The singular portrait of 
 Banou's brother, his deformity and ferocity, are perhaps deeply im- 
 pressed on the memorj' of many of my readers. 
 
 ' Peri Banou, according to Herbelot, signifies a good Fairy. Benon, or Beni al Giun, 
 says this author, is another name for the good spirits who separated from the rebellious 
 crew by Eblis or Lucifer. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST, 49 
 
 The other class of Fairies, so frequent in romance, were nothing 
 Inore than women skilled in magic. This science, when founded on 
 astrology, and styled magia alba, was not generally considered un- 
 lawful, though many entertained and supported a contrary opinion. 
 This appears to have originated in a variety of causes. Some only 
 deprecated the exercise of the science, as a bold inquiry into futu- 
 rity, or assumption of power not naturally vested in man ; others 
 considered it as a mere cloak for darker practices, and thought that 
 the planets, 
 
 tho' these did pore 
 
 Their eyes out, could not tell them more 
 Than the oracle of sieve and shears. 
 That turns as certain as the spheres; 
 But, if the dev'l was of their council. 
 Much might be done. 
 
 A third class seems to have been, in after times, scandalized by the 
 looseness of religious principles, amongst the proficients in judi- 
 cial astrology, and from thence to have deduced conclusions very 
 unfavourable to the science they professed. This charge, for the 
 evidence of which see Sullt's Memoires, Book XII. &c., appears 
 to have been well founded, and is to be very simply explained. For, 
 as we have observed many, even in the present times, only reject 
 the light of revealed religion, in order to plunge into superstitions, 
 more gross than those of the most corrupt of the Christian churches, 
 so men were still more liable to these extremes before philosophy 
 had established a medium, which, though less offensive to reason, 
 has been equally mischievous in its effects. 
 
 Though, in romance, there are instances of knights dabbling in 
 magic, we shall generally find this science ascribed to clerks («'. e. 
 
5() NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 men of letters) and women. Perhaps a skill in fayery, so often as- 
 signed to ladies of distinction in the old romances, may be attributed 
 to their superior education. In the Mort d'Arthur, we find, that 
 Morgue, the fay, was " put to schole in a nonnery, where she leam- 
 " ed so much, that shee became a great clarke in nygromancy ;" and, 
 in the ballad of King Honor, his widow having, from motives of po- 
 licy, for a time exchanged children with the wife of Wise William, 
 says to that lady, 
 
 " And ye maun learn my gay goss hawk 
 
 " Right weel to breast a steed ; 
 " And I sail learn your turtle dow 
 
 " Right weel to write and read." 
 
 See Border Minstrelsy. 
 
 Thy msh forego ! — P. 17. 
 
 The reader will here perceive one of those traits to which I before 
 alluded. , 
 
 Falcons and tie?'cekfs I mexvforjlight. — P. 17. 
 
 Hawking, an amusement pursued with almost as much enthusiasm 
 as hunting during the middle ages, was continued throughout Eu- 
 rope, till it was superseded by the general use and improved manu- 
 facture of guns. From the tenth to the fourteenth century, we fre- 
 quently find hawks demanded and furnished as articles of tribute ; 
 and we have, in various stories of those times, evidence of the ex- 
 travagant degree of estimation in which these birds were held. They 
 were, indeed, considered as symbols of high estate, and, as such, 
 were constantly carried about by the nobility of both sexes. Bar- 
 clay, in his translation from Brandt, complains of the indecent usage 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 51 
 
 of bringing them into places appropriated to public worship ; a; prac- 
 tice which, in the case of some individuals, appears to have been re- 
 cognized as a right. The treasurer of the church of Auxerre enjoy- 
 ed the distinction of assisting at divine service, on solemn days, with 
 a falcon on his fist; and the lord of Sassai held the privilege of perch- 
 ing his upon the altar. Not only did the nobility of the middle 
 ages take these birds with them on journeys in time of peace, they 
 even carried them into battles ; and, as nothing was thought more 
 dishonourable to a man of rank than to give up his hawk, they, if 
 taken prisoners, frequently refused to resign them, even as the price 
 of liberty. 
 
 Falconry, from the situations in which it was usually pursued, 
 was, as has been before stated, styled the mystery of rivers, in oppo- 
 sition to hunting, which, for similar reasons, was denominated the 
 mystery of woods. It at first appears difficult to conceive, how an 
 amusement, which can, as it is now pursued, be only enjoyed in per- 
 fection in an open country, even by bold and expert horsemen, 
 could have been successfully exercised on such ground as the banks 
 of rivers usually afford. But the solution of this difficulty is to be 
 found in the peculiar flight of the heron, the most favourite bird of 
 chase ; who, instead of taking a horizontal direction, as is the case 
 with field birds, rises perpendicularly to a great height, on findino' 
 himself the object of pursuit; while his enemy, using equal efforts to 
 out-tower him, at length gains the advantage, swoops upon him 
 with prodigious force, and strikes him to the ground. The whole 
 of this contest, therefore, might be easily viewed without the spec- 
 tators moving far from the spot where the game was sprung. 
 
 Hawking, which seems most probably to have been of Eastern in- 
 vention, cannot, in Europe, be traced higher than the beginning of 
 the fourth century. 
 
52 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 And at thy morrofiv's rising thou shaltfind 
 A wonderous horn, Sgc. — P. 17. 
 
 Horns, endued with magic virtues, are common presents in ro 
 mance. In the history of Huon de Bouudeaux, Oberon, king of 
 Fayery, presents the hero with a bugle, one of whose virtues was to 
 inspire whosoever heard it with such extravagant mirth, that they 
 were utterly unable to repress the transports it occasioned. But it 
 had another more useful property : At the first note sounded in any 
 time of danger, his Elfin majesty arrived to the immediate succour 
 of him who blew it, at the head of an hundred thousand men. Its 
 virtues were, however, conditional ; and Huon was advertised, that 
 to recur to his horn but in the most imminent crisis of peril, or 
 to stain his conduct by any breach of loyalty, would be to forfeit 
 its powers, and subject himself to the uttermost distress. 
 
 Huon was in repeated disgrace with the Fairy king for an abuse of 
 his present ; but the good-natured monarch, conscious of the almost 
 irresistible temptation to which he had subjected him, did not can- 
 cel its powers, till provoked by a more serious offence, namely, a fla- 
 grant act of disloyalty. 
 
 This was unfortunately at a time when Huon most needed his as- 
 sistance. He had been sent, by Charlemagne, who covertly sought 
 his destruction, on an embassy to Gaudisse, a Paynim admiral. * 
 This legation was not likely to be received by that prince with 
 much complacency; inasmuch as the envoy, in addition to a de- 
 
 * Admiral, Emir. The word is compounded of emir, or amir, a " commander, or 
 " prince," and the article al, of; thus emir al omera, " commander of commanders." 
 Europeans, ignorant of the language, formerly joined the two words together; and hence 
 admiral, now used in a limited sense.— Herbelot's i)!c/Jo»a;y. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 53 
 
 mand of a thousand varlets, a thousand damsels, a thousand hawks, 
 a thousand vultures, and a thousand bears, a handful of the Paynim's 
 beard, and four of his jaw teeth, was directed to kiss his daughter, and 
 to cut off the head of the most distinguished of his barons. Huon 
 having penetrated into the Admiral's garden, in the prosecution of 
 this perilous enterprize, bethought him of his enchanted horn, which 
 he immediately sounded with all his might. But, alas, its principal 
 virtue was lost ! No Oberon arrived. Its mirth-inspiring quality, 
 however, remained ; for, at the first sound, says the tale, " LAdmi- 
 " ral Gaudisse, qui assis estoit au disner, se leva de la table; luy que le 
 " servoit de vin, et tous ceux que la dedans estoient, dames et damoyselles, 
 '^ pucelles, escuyers, et gargons, et soullards de cuisine vindrent au pa- 
 " lais ou estoit V Admiral, et Id, commencerent tous d danser et a chanter 
 " par une si grandejoye, que si a ceste heure Id on les eust veu, on ne se 
 "fust pen tenir de rire : et de tant plus fort coi-noit, de tant plus fort 
 " dansoient et chantoient" The Admiral, however, does not seem to 
 have relished dancing upon compulsion; for he, the instant a sus- 
 pension of the music allowed him breath, dispatched his barons, in 
 hostile array, against the unfortunate musician. — Histoire de Huon de 
 Bourdeaux. 
 
 The value of the horn, endued with fairy virtues, may be estima- 
 ted by the following quotation from an old work on magic. Amongst 
 other things, the author enumerates, " libram, gemmam, vet cornu 
 " magicum, quihus habit is, facile si quis vellet, se mundi monarcham in- 
 " stituerit."^ — Arbatelus de Magid apud Veteres. 
 
 * A book, jewel, or magic horn, by the possession of which, any one, who should 
 choose it, might render himself sovereign of the world. 
 
54 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 I wrought the tconderous chase, and roused the boar, 
 That forced thee from thy train, 8gc. — P. 18. 
 
 So, in the Metamorphosis of Picus, Circe decoys that prince into 
 her power, by means of a magic boar : 
 
 ■ fffigi^fn> nulla cum corpore, falsi 
 
 Fenxit apri, praterqtte oculos transcurrere regis 
 Jussit tt in, densum trabibus, nemus ire videri. 
 
 Ovid. Metamor. Lib. XIV. 
 
 The principal incident in an old Irish poem, entitled, Laoidh na 
 Sealga, or the Lay of the Chase, the original of which, with a poeti- 
 cal translation, is to be found in Miss Brooke's Reliqties of' Irish Poe- 
 try, very much resembles the beginning of this adventure. Fingal, 
 with two of his dogs, is alone engaged in the pursuit of a beautiful 
 doe, which leads him from Almhaim, in the province of Leinster, to 
 Siieve Guillin, or the mountain of Guillin, part of which is in Ulster, 
 and part in Armagh. Here he loses sight of the quarry, but, in its 
 lieu, discovers a beautiful damsel, weeping by the side of a lake. 
 This damsel, of course, turns out to be an enchantress ; but the re- 
 mainder of the story bears no affinity to the present. 
 
 The reader will also in this, as well as other parts of this adven- 
 ture, observe a great resemblance to one of the Persian tales ; but I 
 defer making any further remarks on this head to another place, 
 since the discussion must necessarily anticipate the catastrophe of 
 the romance. There is also another Oriental story, which bears a 
 strong likeness to the commencement of this adventure. A young 
 prince is seduced into the pursuit of a beautiful antelope. He stops 
 his horse, after a fruitless chase, under the walls of a ruined town. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 55 
 
 and perceives a beautiful girl weeping bitterly,. Here, as well as in 
 tbe Celtic fable, the resemblance ends. — Scott's Persian and Arabic 
 Tales. 
 
 Their necks were circled round xvith burning gold. — P. 20, 
 
 The pomp displayed by our ancestors in every thing that related 
 to the chase, manifested itself in the richness of the hoods with 
 which their hawks were veiled, and the precious metal which com- 
 posed the collars of their dogs. The latter piece of magnificence 
 may be traced to a very early period. In the Song of Thrym, that 
 Icelandic giant is thus described : 
 
 High on a mound, in lofty state, 
 
 Thrym, the king of the Thyrsi, sate : 
 
 For his dogs he was twisting collars of gold. 
 
 And trimming the manes of his coursers bold. 
 
 See Herbert's Specimens of Icelandic Poetry, SfC. 
 
 It seem'd as from one dam their blood they drexv ; 
 
 So matched they were in shape, and all of' sable hue. — P. 20. 
 
 From the description of these dogs, we must conclude, that they 
 were either familiar, or subordinate spirits, subjected to the Fay by 
 her skill in necromancy ; nor ought we hence to form any conclu- 
 sions unfavourable to the innocence of her art, as two of the seven 
 sciences into which lawful magic was divided, gave its professors the 
 dominion over familiar and elementary spirits: But of this more 
 hereafter. 
 
 The colour of black was sure to throw any dog under the suspi- 
 cion of being somewhat more than dog ; and, as the vulgar did not 
 understand the difference between good and evil spirits, or enter 
 
m NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 into the distinctions of lawful and unlawful magic, he was usually 
 considered " as little better than a lost monster." — " Simon Magus, 
 (says Haywood in his Hierarchy of Angek) " had a great blacke dog 
 " tyed in a chain, who, if any man came to speake with him whom 
 " he had no desire to see, was ready to devoure him." This vigilant 
 guardian of a philosopher s leisure is immediately afterwards deter- 
 mined to be a famiharized evil spirit. 
 
 Cornelius Agrippa was also much scandalized on account of a 
 black dog who had been long domesticated with him, and whom he 
 is said to have dismissed, in the article of death, with a memorable 
 malediction. Tlie animal being at the same time freed from a ma- 
 gic collar, immediately fled from his master's presence, and, leaping 
 into a river, (diflFerent authors assign different scenes for his exit) 
 disappeared beneath the stream. 
 
 The philosopher and his dog have, however, been fortunate enough 
 to find an advocate in ^Yierus, the friend and pupil of Agrippa, who 
 resolves the story into nothing more than that the said reputed con- 
 juror had a dog and a bitch, respectively known by the names of 
 Monsieur and Mademoiselle, of whom he was ridiculously fond. lie 
 denies the awful dismissal of one of these animals, &c. — Wierus, 
 Liber de Magis Itifamibus, Cap. V. 
 
 And these the damsel gave, in hall or baivr, 
 To cheer by xvhiles the solitary hour. — P. 21. 
 
 These dogs were perhaps not only given to her lover by the fay, 
 as companions during her absence, but as a necessary appendage of 
 princely establishment. As such, they ranked high amongst the pre- 
 sents oiFered to kings. The degree of estimation in which they were 
 held was of long continuance. It was a saying of Francis I., that the 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. .57 
 
 poorest gentleman of France might well receive his king, " s'il avoit 
 " d, lui montrer un beau cheval, un beau chien, et un belle femme!'' 
 
 In the Lay of Lanval, his fay, (and much stress is laid upon the 
 pomp of her equipage,) appears, preceded by a beagle. From this, 
 as well as a thousand other instances, and more particularly from 
 the custom of placing the effigies of a dog at the foot of the figure 
 in old sepulchral monuments, it is apparent that these animals were 
 considered, equally with falcons, as symbols of distinctioiL The 
 reason for both is obvious. The chase was the exclusive right and 
 amusement of the nobility : The emblems of the first, therefore, be- 
 came the favourite ensigns of the latter. 
 
 and could of hre. 
 
 And eke of ancient tales, a countless store. — P. 21. 
 
 This was, as it usually is amongst all unlettered people, consider- 
 ed a most desirable female accomplishment during the middle ages. 
 
 Northmen tiihelm 
 
 Dire havock upon Gaul's defenceless reahti. — P. 23. 
 The original makes this the last invasion of the Normans. 
 
 Myself huge store of treasure will supply; 
 PFith this bold chiefs and bands adventurous buy. 
 
 Then bid thy vassals to the tented plain. — Pp. 23. 24. 
 
 The mode of levying forces, like most other grand features of na- 
 tional policy, was, during the middle ages, founded on the same prin- 
 ciples, however varying in detail, in almost every state in Europe. 
 But as our business is at present with France, it will be necessary, 
 
 H 
 
58 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 more immediately, to consider the system of feudal service in that 
 kingdom ; the rise of those bands of adventurers alluded to in the 
 text; and, finally, the establishment of a more permanent force, 
 which superseded the former undisciplined levies, with difficulty 
 collected, with still greater difficulty held together, and oftentimes 
 more dangerous to the prince by whom they were. embodied, than 
 the enemy whom they were assembled to oppose. 
 
 During many ages, there existed nothing that bore any resem- 
 blance to a regular ai-my. At this time, all estates, whether the pro- 
 perty of laymen, or ecclesiastics, were bound to furnish a fixed con- 
 tingent of men for a certain period. This varied considerably in 
 diffi^rent fiefs of the same value and extent; appears to have been de- 
 termined on no established principle, and was, in truth, often deci- 
 ded by the relative strength of lord and vassal. The longest period 
 of military duty was, according to constitutional usage, only forty 
 days ; but Saint Louis compelled his feudatories to two months ser- 
 vice. This was doubled by Philip the Fair. Very severe piuiish- 
 ments were held out against defaulters ; and, in the thirteenth^cen- 
 tury, a refusal to join the royal standard was followed by a confis- 
 cation of the fief. 
 
 The mode of levying this force was as follows : On the monarch's 
 publishing his ban, his feudatories, in their turn, summoned and col- 
 lected their vassals ; whom they either sent under the command of 
 subordinate officers, or, if the constitution of their fief obliged them, 
 conducted in person to the field. The knights bannerets brought 
 the bachelors, squires, men at arms, and Serjeants. These formed 
 the cavalry. The counts and viscounts, on the other hand, led the 
 militia of the cities and towns ; and of these the infantry was prin- 
 cipally composed. The title of banneret was confined to no parti- 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 5[) 
 
 cular rank, but was given to great landholders, whether dukes, mar- 
 quisses, earls, or barons, who were able to conduct under their ban- 
 ner a certain number of gentlemen, their immediate tenants. The 
 bachelors (bas chevaliers) were the poorer knights, the squires, can- 
 didates for the order of knighthood, and the men at arms in the infe- 
 rior class of gentry. The term serjeant, (in Latin serviens) original- 
 ly signified one employed in the royal service, whether civil, milita- 
 ry, or domestic. It was also applied to esquires, and valets of great 
 lords. In the present instance, it seems to refer to those who were 
 obliged to serve on horseback in the royal armies, as possessors of 
 fiefs termed serjentries. — Ducange. 
 
 It was seldom that any very permanent advantage, whatever might 
 be its first impression, could be reaped by an army so levied and 
 composed. The constitution of this force was, however, in some 
 degree amended by Louis the Gross, who materially strengthened 
 the royal power, by taking from the nobles the charge of raising 
 the militia, and placing it in the hands of municipal officers. But 
 here ended the reform; for the king, finding it necessary to keep 
 measures Avith these newly established authorities, did not venture 
 to enlarge the constitutional period of service. 
 
 At length, towards the end of this century, the evil was again 
 partially remedied, under the reign of Philip Augustus, by the en- 
 rolment of troops of adventurers alluded to in the text, composed of 
 different nations, who, adopting warfare as a trade, offered their ser- 
 vices to the highest bidder. The produce of certain additional im- 
 posts laid upon the people, combined with a wise and economical 
 management of the royal revenues, enabled him to defray the charge 
 of these mercenary levies. 
 
60 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 But though much was gained by the establishment of a force, 
 whose services were more valuable, in as much as they were more 
 durable, and more dependent on the will of tlie sovereign than the 
 constitutional levy, this was by no means an effectual remedy to the 
 evils already noticed. These condottieri bore but a small proportion 
 to the other troops, and were, indeed, neither so effectively mounted 
 or armed as the feudal forces : For the mercenaries principally con- 
 sisted of light horse and infantry, whilst the heavy cavalry, by 
 whom the fortune of battles was, more especially amongst the 
 French, usually decided, remained constituted as before. Add to 
 this, that, though the services of these adventurers were to be insu- 
 red by pay, they were exorbitant in their demands; and the sol- 
 diery of which they were composed, the refuse of Europe, became 
 the scourge of the country under whose baimers they were enrolled. 
 
 A refinement on the system of Philip Augustus was introduced by 
 Philip the Fair, who purchased the aid of foreign troops from the so- 
 vereigns whom they served. But these also, as well as the /' bands 
 " adventurous," consisted entirely of infantry, or light horse. 
 
 Things remained in this state till the beginning of the fifteenth 
 century, when the knights bannerets, exhausted by the long and 
 bloody wars between France and England, declared to Charles VII., 
 that they were no longer able to furnish their customary contingent, 
 and, in consequence, demanded a remission of the military service of 
 their tenants. Charles accorded this petition, and, in their place, 
 erected a body of independent companies, " for the support of which 
 
 " In French, compngnies d'ordonnance. This has been applied, in modern French, to 
 free, or independent companies. I have therefore retained the corresponding idiom in 
 our own language. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 6l 
 
 he imposed a specific tax upon the people. Thus, to a raw and 
 undiscipHned levy, was suddenly substituted a permanent force, at 
 all times ready to strike, and equally well calculated to pursue the 
 advantage which their state of readiness had enabled them to at- 
 chieve; grafting on native valour the benefits of an habitual obe- 
 dience to their leaders, and implicit devotion to their monarch, 
 whom they naturally regarded as the fountain of honour and of 
 wealth. 
 
 Charles had also other, and not less pleasing, causes for self-con- 
 gratulation on the measures he had adopted. The barons could no 
 longer threaten and coerce their sovereign, under the pretence of as- 
 sembling their dependents for his defence; while the prince him- 
 self had a formidable force at his sole disposal, ready to repress their 
 insolence, or circumscribe their ambition. The disuse, also, of the 
 old constitutional force, destroyed all essential chivalric distinctions, 
 and speedily dissolved all " the various links and nice dependencies" 
 of the feudal system. Thus, that which the barons sought as a 
 grace, became, in reality, a death-blow to their power; so true is 
 the maxim, " that political innovations commonly produce many 
 effects besides those that are intended ; that the direct consequence 
 is often the least important; and that incidental, remote, and un- 
 thought of evils, or advantages, frequently exceed the good that is 
 designed, or the mischief that is foreseen." 
 
 Nevertheless, some traces of knight-service remained, for a great 
 length of time, in France. The ban, and ai-ri^re ban, though dis- 
 used, were not actually abolished. Vestiges of these, indeed, are 
 to be found even in modern times. The arrihe ban was convoqued 
 by Louis XIV., with what success is univerally known; and, in the 
 year 1755, the noblesse of the neighbouring provinces, on a British 
 
62 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 squadron taking possession of the isle of Aix, marched to defend the 
 coast from invasion. — Le Grand, &c. 
 
 By me she sends these roimceys stout, xvho bear 
 Large sums of gold, the sinews of the tear. — P. 25. 
 
 In the same manner, an ancient knight bears supplies to, and de- 
 frays the expences of, Sir Raymondin, husband to the Fairy Melusine, 
 by her direction. — Histoire de Melusine. 
 
 she falsely iveerid. 
 
 The child a thrall to some enamour' d fiend. — P. 26. 
 
 The belief in Incubus's and Succubas was extremely prevalent du- 
 ring the middle ages, and, indeed, long outlived that sera. These dse- 
 mons were supposed sometimes to offer themselves, under the dis- 
 guise of the night, and to depart without discovery ; and sometimes 
 to familiarize themselves with man or woman, for a length of time, 
 under some borrowed shape. Wierus attributes the first belief to an 
 obvious natural cause; (Wierus De Lamiis, Cap. XIII.); and the 
 veil of mystery under which intrigue is often pursued, will perhaps 
 resolve the second wonder. 
 
 The frequency of these misfortunes afforded a plausible pretence 
 to great ladies, for discouraging the marriage of their sons with la- 
 dies of doubtful birth and connections. In the History of Emare, 
 
 The old quene spakke wordes unhende. 
 And sayde, " Sone, thys ys a fende, 
 
 " In this wordy wede. 
 " As thou lovest my blessLnge, 
 " Make thou never this weddynge, 
 
 " Cryst hit de forbede !" 
 
 Ritson's Metrical Romances. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 63 
 
 This belief seems to have been prevalent in Greece. Burton, in his 
 Anatomy of Melancholy, tells the following story : He quotes 
 from Philostratus De Vita Apollonii, a Sophist, born at Athens ac- 
 cording to some, according to others at Lemnos, who went to Rome 
 in the reign of the Emperor Severus, and was entertained in the ser- 
 vice of his philosophic wife, Julia Severa. 
 
 " Menippus Lycius, a young man, twenty-five years of age, going 
 " betwixt Chencreas and Corinth, met a phantasm in the habit of a 
 " fair gentlewoman, which, taking him by the hand, carried him 
 " home to her house in the suburbs of Corinth ; and told him, she 
 " was a PhcEnician by birth, and, if he would tarry with her, he 
 " should hear her sing and play, and drink such wine as never any 
 " drank, and no man should molest him ; but she, being fair and 
 " lovely, would live and die with him that was fair and lovely to 
 " behold. 
 
 " The young man, a philosopher, otherwise staid and discreet, able 
 " to moderate his passions, though not this of love, tarried with her 
 "awhile, to his great content, and at last married her; to whose 
 " wedding, amongst other guests, came Appollonius, who, by some 
 " probable conjecture, found her out to be a serpent, a Lamia ; and 
 " that all her furniture was, like Tantalus's gold, described by Ho- 
 " mer, no substance, but mere illusion. When she saw herself des- 
 " cried, she wept, and desired Appollonius to be silent ; but he would 
 " not be moved ; and thereupon she, plate, house, and all that was 
 " in it, vanished in an instant. Many thousands took notice of this 
 " fact, for it was done in the midst of Greece." 
 
 Burton concludes a sort of summary of similar stories with the 
 following melancholy observation of Lipsius, which he seems to 
 think equally applicable to the times in which he wrote : " One 
 
Gi NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 " thing I will add, that I suppose that, in no age past, I know not 
 " by what destiny of this unhappy time, have there ever appeared, 
 " or shewed themselves, so many lecherous devils, satyrs, and genii, 
 " as in this of ours, as appears by the daily narrations and judicial 
 " sentences upon record." 
 
 and she gave a fairy -philtre, 8^x. — P. 27- 
 
 The effect of certain stimulating potions, as has been justly obser- 
 ved, evidently led to the superstitious belief in philtres and charms, 
 of power to create an irresistible and lasting attachment. This has 
 been a folly, not peculiar to the middle ages, but, till within the 
 two last centuries, more or less the growth of every age and every 
 clime. It is almost needless to say, that the celebrated loves of 
 Tristram and La Belle Yseult sprung from this unfortunate source. 
 Of such power was the boire amoreuse, of which they had participa- 
 ted, that the dog Hodain, who only licked the cup, partook of its 
 inebriating influence, and became as faithfully attached to the lovers 
 as they were unalterably devoted to one another. — Scott's Sir Tris- 
 trem,^.^93. 
 
 She spake, and at the name, like one aghast 
 
 He stared; the charm was broke, the witchery past. — P. 28. 
 
 There is certainly exquisite beauty in this incident. The name 
 of the beloved object alone is sufficient to recall the perverted affec- 
 tions, and triumph overall the mysterious energies of magic. 
 
 There is an incident of a similar nature in Tressan's Corps d'Ex- 
 traits, &c. Gerard de Nevers, having staked his domains against an- 
 other petty prince, on the fidelity of his mistress, is, through the false 
 testimony of his adversary, at once stript of his dominions, and driven 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 65 
 
 to an unwilling conviction of the falsehood of his love. After some 
 time, satisfied, through a singular accident, of the treachery of his 
 opponent, he wanders, a miserable outcast, in search of his slandered 
 lady. He is at length entertained in the service of a prince, whose 
 favour he had deserved by many heroic actions. Charmed by his va- 
 lour, his beauty, and his accomplishments, the daughter of his lord 
 becomes enamoured of him, and spares neither promises, nor prayers, 
 to persuade him to a requital of her flame. The knight, however, is 
 impregnable to her attacks, till his better sense is perverted by a 
 magic philtre. This, at once, sweeps away every trace of his former 
 passion, and kindles an immediate and irresistible desire for the love- 
 sick damsel. The lady takes advantage of this happy change ; and 
 the father, though not aware of a most material reason for hastening 
 the arrangement, is prevailed upon by his daughter to consent to 
 her immediate union with his vassal. 
 
 In the mean time, the count's innocent but abused mistress, after 
 undergoing every species of wretchedness and mortification, had 
 found a friend and protectress in the sister of a certain duke. It 
 happened one day, that, as the princess and her companion were 
 amusing themselves with comparing the merits of two birds, each 
 the favourite of its respective mistress, the princess enlarged much 
 on the superior beauty of her own, which was a gold-finch, over a 
 sky-lark, the fondling of her friend ; when the latter took a jewel- 
 ring from her finger, the token of Gerard's affection, and, casting it 
 over the lark's neck, declared she would render him more brilliant 
 than his gaudy rival. At that instant, the bird, escaping from her ' 
 grasp, flew away, and left the damsel inconsolable for her loss. 
 
 It happened sometime afterwards, that, as the count was hawkino- 
 at small birds, for presents to his new mistress, his merlin took the 
 
 I 
 
66 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 identical lark which had escaped from the hand of his first love. 
 The sight of the well-known jewel instantly dissipated all the delu- 
 sions of magic ; and he, awakening as from a dream, recommenced 
 his search. He at length discovers his mistress, in a situation, the 
 most afflicting to a lover, arraigned as the supposed murdress of her 
 friend. He speedily challenges her accuser, who, vanquished in the 
 lists, himself pleads guilty to the crime with which he had treache- 
 rously charged another. 
 
 That nothing might be wanting to the happiness of the lovers, the 
 count soon after conquers, in judicial combat, the first false accuser 
 of his lady, convicts him of his treason, and is re-established in his 
 hereditary domains. — Extraits du Corps des Romans, Tressan. 
 
 For an incident of a nature almost exactly similar, See Sir Tris- 
 
 TREM. 
 
 An adventure of the same kind also occurs in the Irish MS. ro- 
 mance of Farravla. 
 
PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
iL'iliiinu ^ %ii!iiiiiiiiii!iii^^ 
 
 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 What minstrel harps to king or baron bold. 
 Hath mantle for his meed, or marks of gold. 
 I nathless, who to other boon aspire, 
 And sing at damsel's bidding, for mine hire, 
 
70 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. , canto ii. 
 
 Not one sweet smile can win, or kind regard : 
 
 *Tis well, forsooth, love is its own reward ; 
 
 Since I none other guerdon hope to gain, 
 
 For all my waste of toil, and fruitless pain. 
 
 Of other mold was made that gentle may. 
 
 To whom the County pledged his ill-rememher'd fay. 
 
 Him late I left, consumed with bitter cark 
 And self-remorse, on board the wonderous barque. 
 Safe harbour'd, once again the spirits moor 
 Their fairy charge ; he springs upon the shore. 
 The nuptial bow'r he sought ; the nightly spell 
 Wrought as before, the dying tapers fell. 
 'Twas silence all ; and from each hope downcast. 
 He fear d his crime divulged, and sentence past ; 
 When, as it chanced of old, again the sound 
 Of a soft footfall echo'd on the ground ; 
 Again the fairy, fresh in youthful charms, 
 Sprang to the couch, and dipt him in her arms. 
 
•ANTO II. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 71 
 
 But soon the dame (for guilt is ill to hide 
 In generous breasts) his troubled cheer descried ; 
 And, with endearing sweetness, sought to know 
 The secret of his ill-dissembled woe. 
 Unpractised in deceit, the gentle youth 
 Strove not to varnish, or to wrest the truth. 
 
 " Child," cried the tender fay, " thy fault is 
 
 light. 
 Nor reck I of thy king, or mother's spite. 
 While, unperverted by their cruel art, 
 ' Yet turns to me thy fond, repentant heart." 
 
 ec 
 
 a 
 
 She ended ; and, in further sign of grace, 
 Seal'd his forgiveness with a fond embrace. 
 And quickly fled the night on gladsome wings ; 
 For, as an ancient rhymer quaintly sings. 
 Solace doth never wear so bright a cast. 
 As when its sweets succeed misliking past. 
 
7« PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto ii. 
 
 Yet, soon again a prey to secret grief. 
 He from his Melior's bounty pray'd relief. 
 " Would she once more her subject spirits charge, 
 " To waft to Gallia's coast the fairy barge, 
 " As he but sought to soothe his friends' alarms, 
 "No further lett should hold him from her arms." 
 
 He said ; and for a while, in mute distress. 
 The fairy paused ; then thus : — " Thy wish pos- 
 sess ; 
 *' I force not, I, thy stay ; yet, ah ! too well 
 " The fruits of this ill-omen'd quest I spell." 
 
 But he, now school'd by love, already taught 
 Tricks which that master teaches in a thought, 
 Closed her warm lips with many a balmy kiss, 
 Cleped her his light, his life, his only bliss ; 
 And, should he faulter, bade her know, that worth 
 And truth were past, and love was none on earth. 
 
CANTO II. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 75 
 
 Nought said the doleful damsel in reply ; 
 But, in the place of words, a deep-drawn sigh 
 Bespoke a deadly wound, beyond the reach 
 And salve of blandishment, or sugar'd speech. 
 
 'Tis certain, that the soul hath oft foretaste 
 Of matters, which beyond its ken are placed. 
 So mariners maintain, the yeasty seas 
 Will toss and tumble, as in strange disease, 
 While yet the rack doth neither come, nor go. 
 Big with strange mischief, ere the tempest blow. 
 Some haply might esteem such rare forethought 
 A painful privilege, too dearly bought. 
 Pardi, so should not I. Troth ! I for this 
 Should barter, in exchange, no present bliss. 
 With me the present hour's a blank ; I fare 
 Like one bewilder'd on some desert laire, 
 A prospect of unprofitable waste. 
 Within a cheerless horizon embraced. 
 
 K 
 
^!PBIJ- 
 
 74 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto ii. 
 
 Oh for a glimpse of what beyond is found ! 
 Oh for an eye to pierce that liquid bound ! 
 
 'Twas here the fay too well presaged ; and much 
 I grieve this portion of my tale to touch. 
 Again the barque by favouring wind was driven 
 To Gallia'^s coast : Short space to joy was given : 
 The revels past, again with surer aim 
 The countess wrought to quench the prince's flame. 
 
 For this, with lowly suit and prayer, she bends 
 A sage and holy prelate to her ends. 
 His homilies I cast not here to preach ; 
 111 should I treat what he so well did teach. 
 Suffice, that, overborne, the boy believed 
 Some demon had his better sense deceived ; 
 And from his mother, after holy shrift. 
 Received, with duteous cheer, a sovereign gift ; 
 Which well, she said, might serve his doubts to clear, 
 And prove or sooth, or false, the prelate's fear. 
 
CANTO n. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. t5 
 
 It was a lamp, ywrought by fairy sleight, 
 
 So framed that nought might quench the wonder- 
 
 ous light. 
 Well school'd the child departs ; again afloat, 
 On Loire's clear bosom rode the fairy boat. 
 He climbs the deck ; the vessel owns the breeze. 
 Snaps her light cords, and shoots athwart the seas. 
 
 Again his feet the fairy palace tread ; 
 Again with costly cates the board is spread. 
 Now half-repentant of his purposed deed. 
 Now trembling at the priest's remember'd rede, 
 He to the nuptial chamber wends his way. 
 And, couch'd within her bower, expects the fay. 
 
 Alas ! and she was witless, woe the while ! 
 Of the false child's premeditated guile. 
 He, while the damsel to his bosom grew, 
 Wray'd with his better hand the lamp to view. 
 
76 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto ii; 
 
 Struck with the beauties of a matchless face, 
 
 A masterpiece of loveliness and grace, 
 
 Back starts the boy, and, as he moves, the blaze 
 
 O'er her fair limbs and lovely figure plays. 
 
 Dishevell'd, all about her tresses hung, 
 
 And on each charm a softening shadow^ flung. 
 
 Meanwhile her eyes were closed, and not a streak 
 
 Of faint carnation tinged her faded cheek ; 
 
 But bitterly she sobb'd, and frequent rose 
 
 Her bosom, as convulsed with cruel throes. 
 
 He with one arm her body did embrace. 
 And gazed, in silent anguish, on her face ; 
 She hung upon that arm, like to a flower 
 Half cropt, or overcharged with summer shower : 
 Then loud he call'd upon her name, and press'd 
 The lifeless burden to his throbbing breast. 
 Long fruitless w^as his pain, till with a sigh 
 She heavily 'gan ope each drooping eye, 
 
To /.>. ^ p,i<u /tf 
 
 Smirke Jltrt-' ^M. 
 
 l.^iuLtt hj/'ii.rfitrf h Loiupitan.Uurst.lU*:': .{•Orine Feh'^a^i&oS. 
 
SANTO II. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 77 
 
 And, for a little season, strove for breath, 
 Then sunk again, entranced in seeming death. 
 
 Again the boy his frantic plaint renewed. 
 And to her lips of faded coral glued 
 His mouth, as he believed his kiss had might, 
 To breathe new life, or catch her fleeting sprite. 
 She starts upright ; and her distemper'd gaze 
 A thousand passions strange at once displays ; 
 Yet she within her breast that transport pent ; 
 As one to sterner pitch of sufi'erance bent : 
 So paused awhile ; then thus, with solemn air, 
 And features fixt in comfortless despair : 
 
 " Disloyal boy ! is this, thy foul misdeed, 
 " Love's recompence ? Is this my promised meed ? 
 ** Fool that I was, my fate I had foreknown, 
 " But that thy love I measured by mine own. 
 " Yet have thine utmost wish ! attend and know 
 " The story of my shame, my sum of woe i 
 
78 PAUTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto h. 
 
 " Sprung from imperial sires, whose high com- 
 mand 
 " Stretch'd o'er Constantinople's subject land, 
 *' That heritage, as thine, I view'd with pride, 
 ** The princely portioiTtrf a loving bride. 
 " This scene of all my pleasures and my pain 
 " Is one poor lordship of that large domain. 
 
 " It was my father's will, to see me versed 
 " In secret arts, in early wisdom nursed. 
 " His wish I well fulfill'd ; surpass'd in lore 
 " My masters, and unlock'd the hidden door 
 *' Of mystic knowledge ; every herb I knew 
 " Which sparkles to the sun, or drinks the dew. 
 " Wide was my sovereign skill in physic blown, 
 " And the sev'n sciences I made mine own. 
 *' Mine art, an I had list to loose my power, 
 " Had sped through summer skies the frozenshower; 
 Or strown amid the waste of wintry snows 
 The scented eglantine and blushing rose. 
 
 a 
 
 t( 
 
CANTO II. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 79 
 
 ** To this ; the spirits of air, earth, flood, and flame, 
 " Heard my high hests, and trembled at my name. 
 " Yet did I ne'er my fairy sleight employ, 
 " Save at my father's will, to work him joy ; 
 " Or when, enamour'd, I thy chase possess'd, 
 *' And for thy love this fairy garden dress'd. 
 " But thou" (and, as she spoke, her aching heart 
 Cast forth a deep-drawn sigh) " hast marr'd mine 
 
 art : — 
 " That art, which for thy sake I learn'd to prize, 
 " No more shall screen thee from my subjects' eyes. 
 " This truth thyself shalt witness to thy scathe, 
 " Like me a victim to thy broken faith. 
 " Who tend upon my rising, shall in you 
 " The spoiler of my virgin honour view." 
 
 Sore sobb'd the boy ; she answer d sigh for sigh. 
 So pass'd the night, till, in the farther sky. 
 First faintly peer'd the dawn of safiron hue, 
 And through the bower aglimmering twilight threw. 
 
00 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto ]i. 
 
 Then to her couch, as erst proclaim'd the fay. 
 Flock' d dames and damsels bright in rich array. 
 Ill may my verse depaint the strange surprize, 
 The rage that sparkled in those maidens' eyes; 
 And that, — the hardest to a wretch forlorn. 
 Nor yet inured to shame, — the freezing scorn 
 Of such, themselves by passion never tost. 
 Whose sleepy virtue little pain doth cost ; 
 And, though it never sw^erved, for love, nor hate. 
 Did never prompt a deed w^as good or great. 
 
 Behind the courtly band^ but not to blame. 
 To her dear Empress' bow'r Uraqua came. 
 Both the same w^omb to Grecian Milo bore. 
 By kindred blood conjoin'd, by friendship more. 
 To her her sister's loves from Ardenne's chase 
 Long since w^ere knovrn ; advised of her disgrace, 
 She came ; and at her beck the rest gave place. 
 Her looks in gentle tenderness w^ere drest ; 
 And first she clasp'd the mourner to her breast : 
 
CANTO u. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 81 
 
 Then, ere the dame might give her sorrows way, 
 Thus, kind, prevents the self-accusing fay. 
 
 " Knovr me, svs^eet sister, for thy loving friend, 
 " Who fain this ill w^ith counsel sage w^ould mend. 
 " Since to the v\^orld thy partial love is known, 
 " Call its fair object boldly to thy throne ; 
 "Nor let vain fears thy gentle bosom fill, 
 *' His worth shall bend thy vassals to thy will : 
 " And, for I surely ween his mother's art 
 " Alone seduced his unsuspecting heart, 
 " Well shall his future love the boon repay : 
 " My life upon his truth and spotless fay !" 
 
 " Ah ! sister mine," replied the royal dame, 
 " Plead not for yon base author of my shame. 
 " Hence let him speed, nor e'er again be found 
 " (Poor penance for his crime !) on Grecian ground. 
 *' Hence let him part !" she said, and call'd aloud. 
 And to her presence bade the attendant crowd. 
 
 L 
 
82 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto ii. 
 
 These, — for the sun had crim son' d o'er the skies, — 
 Now gazed upon the boy with alter'd eyes ; 
 And mark'd each youthful grace and manly limb, 
 Scarce shadow'd out before in twilight dim. 
 Beauty, howe'er the sex that truth gainsay, 
 Still o'er the female breast holds sovereign sway. 
 Each, from a judge a party-zealot grown. 
 Felt for the pair, and made the case their own. 
 But most (such is the way with woman-kind) 
 The county's trouble touch' d each gentle mind. 
 About the youth with ready zeal they press'd ; 
 ('Twas all they could) this bore his trews and vest ; 
 This, fringed with hunter's gear, the girdle pass'd 
 Around the stripling's slender waist, and last 
 About his neck the horn of ivory cast. 
 This was the horn, and these the weeds, he wore, 
 (Now faded, and with mildew rusted o'er) 
 When in good time he miss'd his woodland prey. 
 And, spell-directed, found the blooming fay. 
 
CANTO n. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 83 
 
 He speechless stood this while ; each sense was 
 
 lorn, 
 It seem'd, in grief, too mighty to be borne* 
 
 Uraque now late perceived the county's fate 
 Was fixt, the fay relentless in her hate. 
 Him from the bow'r with gentle force she drew. 
 And whisper'd hints of bliss, and hopes untrue. 
 Thence passing to the gates, they view'd a crowd 
 Of Melior's vassals, factious, fierce, and loud. 
 He wist not of his risque, or if at all. 
 Him might no scene of menaced death appal. 
 Not so the dame ; she, with superior grace, 
 Sign'd to the rebel lords to yield her place. 
 They, murmuring at her royal best, made way. 
 And stern retired, as frustrate of their prey. 
 
 Forth fared the prince and maid ; his gallant 
 steed, 
 Fresh from the stall, a lusty groom did lead. 
 
84 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto n. 
 
 Fast by the haven side a barque was moor'd ; 
 The county with his palfrey pass'd on board ; 
 And, for she trembled for her hapless charge, 
 Uraqua with the child would climb the barge. 
 
 Quick from the shore the ready sailors cast 
 The cables, and uprear the cornel mast. 
 The cordage cracks, and, as the breezes sweep. 
 Swiftly the shallop skims the briny deep. 
 
 Upon the poop the county took his stand, 
 And gazed, in silent anguish, on the land. 
 By slow degrees still lessening from his sight. 
 Till the dim scene was lost in shadowy night. 
 Then on the deck his fever'd limbs he strews. 
 Regardless of the cold and sickly dews. 
 Straightway, there is such heaviness in Avoe, 
 He slumber'd ; but cold comfort thence did grow ; 
 For fancy brought the past again to view, 
 With circumstance of sorrow, strange and new. 
 
CANTO II. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 83 
 
 Next, (for that mimic, as she still doth ply 
 Her random task with ever-roving eye. 
 Will often mar her web, then quickly piece. 
 With diverse dye, the party-colour'd fleece,) 
 He w^ith his lief on mossy bank did sit. 
 In converse sw^eet and interchange of wit ; 
 And it bethought him she, in amorous play, 
 His head upon her dainty lap did lay ; 
 While music from about and underneath. 
 Such as earth owes not, did around them breathe. 
 He waked, and noise was none, save of the tide. 
 Soft rippling, as the barque did onward glide. 
 And of the creaking yards, which grated slow. 
 With melancholy murmur to and fro. 
 
 I not misrate the measure of his woes. 
 Who from his love a cheerless outcast goes; 
 Yet him kind nature's varied sweets some deal. 
 From that his soul-consuming care may steal. 
 
86 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto ii. 
 
 The breeze, the bud, fresh-bursting into life. 
 The rivulet, with its pebbly banks at strife. 
 All, all, may to some sense, some charm convey. 
 And soothe awhile the wanderer on his way. 
 And when the garish lamp of day is out, 
 And the blue vault is set with stars about. 
 And pensive Philomel, that in the light 
 Sat mute, repeats her Salve to the night, 
 In rich and changeful descant, — though he borrow 
 Plaint of her plaint, and sorrow of her sorrow, 
 That vent of grief shall bring its own delight. 
 And soothe to softer tone his tortured sprite. 
 
 'Tis ill to choose betwixt ; yet sorer pain 
 Is his, who, love-lorn, plows the watery main, — 
 The discord of the mutinous waves and wind 
 Shall speak no comfort to his troubled mind : 
 But he, as he still views on every side 
 The world of tumbling waters, drear and wide. 
 
'*^.- 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 87 
 
 Shall needs lament, as one who cannot miss, 
 
 To think what gulph there is 'twixt him and bliss. 
 
 But to my tale ; a tedious space o'erpast, 
 The Grecian galley mounts the Seine at last. 
 The space 'twixt ship and shore the bridge be- 
 strides ; 
 O'er this a page the prince's palfrey guides. 
 Uraque herself, descending on the strand. 
 Embraced the child upon his native land ; 
 With tender cheer some words of comfort spoke. 
 Then from his circling arms, reluctant, broke. 
 The sailors, at her best, their grapnel weigh, 
 And dash with €qual strokes the scatter'd spray. 
 
 Wo was the child to hear the dame's command ; 
 But when he saw her vessel quit the land. 
 His heart within him died, chill damps o'erspread 
 His visage, and his vital spirits fled. 
 
88 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto ti. 
 
 Again with labouring pangs his breath he drew. 
 And on the parting galley fixt his view ; 
 Again such anguish seiz'd his troubled sprite. 
 That the dim prospect swam before his sight. 
 So frequent ebb'd and flow' d life's crimson stream ; 
 Till now the western sun's departing beam 
 Was lost beyond the hills, and evening sad 
 Had in her dusky mantle all things clad ; 
 Then, weak and weary, in his sell he clombe. 
 Well could his horse the way, and slowly journey'd 
 home. 
 
 And now a warning blast the watchman blew; 
 Nor wi«t he of his lord, how changed to view ! 
 Ah ! how unlike the gallant child, who late 
 Prick'd his keen courser through that leaguer'd 
 
 gate. 
 To witch the world with chivalry ! whose brand 
 Blazed like a beacon to his following band ; 
 
CANTO n. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 89 
 
 While oft the scatter d paynims look'd behind, 
 Listening the victor's voice upon the wind ; 
 Who cheer'd his troops to follow them that fled, 
 And heap'd Blois' ravaged fields with mighty dead. 
 
 Sore sigh'd the ward-gate as the bolts he drew. 
 And back the hoarse-resounding portals threw. 
 Onward the county fared, and came at last 
 To his fair castle, and the draw-bridge pass'd ; 
 Nor stay'd his steed, but prick'd into the hall ; 
 Well might his semblance strange the guests ap- 
 pal! 
 Admiring at his garb and haggard look. 
 Him from his sell the knights attendant took : 
 But when his lady mother forward press'd. 
 To clasp the long-lost treasure to her breast, — 
 
 " Hence, mother mine !" the frantic boy begun, 
 *' Hence ! once again I say. Some other son 
 
 M 
 
90 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto n. 
 
 " It now behoves thee seek ; for me — that name, 
 " Wreck'd by thy wily treason, I disclaim." 
 
 He said ; and sought his bow'r, to vent apart 
 The anguish which oppress'd his bursting heart. 
 Now grovelling on the ground his limbs he spread, 
 And call'd down heav'n's dire curses on his head ; 
 Now on his lady mother cast the blame ; 
 Now, wrought to phrenzy, on his sovereign dame 
 The license of his lawless speech had flung, 
 But truth and better reason tied his tongue. 
 
 Ah ! well was he that he forebore to blame t 
 Misfortune be his lot and worldly shame. 
 Nor, dying, let him taste of heavenly bliss, 
 Whoe'er of dame, or damsel speaks amiss ! 
 And sure no gentle clerk did ever vex 
 With foul discourtesy the sovereign sex. 
 Bat churl, or villain, of degenerate mind. 
 Brutal and base, the scandal of his kind. 
 
CANTO 11. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS, 91 
 
 Yet, lordings, if there live a losel, poor 
 In worth, though haply school'd in learned lore — 
 Hath he in word, or thought, the dames reviled ? 
 — To graceful learning though his tongue be filed. 
 Though poignant be his wit, and keen his rage, 
 Here, gallants, at his feet I cast my gage. 
 Your poet to the proof the carle defies. 
 And to his teeth maintains the recreant lies. 
 
 END OF CANTO SECOND. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 Hath mantle for his meed, — P. 69. 
 
 The present of a dress was, in unrefined periods of society in Eu- 
 rope, as well as in the East, a favourite and obvious mark of dis- 
 tinction, or of regard. It is still considered as such amongst the 
 Asiatics, and is to be recognized amongst the customs of the island- 
 ers of the South Seas, and the savages of America. 
 
 Solace doth never wear so bright a cast, 
 
 As when its sweets succeed misliking past. — P. 71. 
 
 Sweet is solas after mislykeing. 
 
 IWAIN AND GaWIN. 
 
 It was a lamp ywrought by fairy sleight; 
 
 So framed, that nought might quench its wonderous light. — P. 75. 
 
 The treatises on natural magic are full of directions for making in- 
 extinguishable torches and lamps. I select one: " Imple cannam 
 " pulvere sulphureo et pannicub minutissimo fractis ; deinde cerd quic- 
 " quid est investito, et incendito. Nulbflabello aut vento extinguetur.** 
 — Magia Naturalis, Artificiosa, &c. 
 
 As the wonders of every thing, which partakes of the marvellous, 
 are usually exaggerated, these lamps and torches, which were possi- 
 bly proof against wind and water, might, by a slight extension of 
 
94 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND, 
 
 credulity, be supposed equally capable of resisting the power of time ; 
 and hence, perhaps, the fiction of ever-burning lamps suspended in 
 sepulchres. 
 
 It was my father^ s zvill to see me versed 
 
 In secret arts, in early wisdom nursed. — P. 78. 
 
 I have before had occasion to remark, how frequently skill in the 
 occult sciences was attributed to the daughters of nobles and of 
 kings. The same persuasion, originating probably in the same 
 causes, appears to have prevailed in the East, In the story of the 
 Second Caknder, the Ladyof Beauty, only child of a great sultan, is 
 a most potent enchantress. The queen of a kingdom, in the story of 
 Prince Bedir of Persia, possesses the same science, and operates a 
 marvel exactly similar to one of those accomplished in the preceding 
 story. In the same tale, figures the redoubtable Labe, by birth a 
 queen, by profession a sorceress. These two characters are also uni- 
 ted in the cousin and wife of the King of the Black Isles. — Arabian 
 Nights. 
 
 every herb I knew 
 
 Which sparkles to the sun, or drinks the dew. — P. 78. 
 
 " Some of the ancients, and likewise diverse of the modem wri- 
 " ters, that have laboured in natural magic," says Lord Bacon, " have 
 " noted a sympathy between the sun, moon, and some principal 
 " stars, and certain herbs and plants; and so they have denomina- 
 " ted some herbs solar, and some lunar, and such like toys put in- 
 " to great words. It is manifest, that there are some flowers that 
 " have respect to the sun in two kinds, the one by opening and 
 " shutting, and the other by bowing and inclining the head : For 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. d5 
 
 " marygolds, tulips, pimpernel, and indeed most flowers, do open 
 " and spread their leaves abroad when the sun shineth serene and 
 " fair, and again (in some part) close them, or gather them inward, 
 " either towards night, or when the sky is overcast. Of this there 
 " needeth no such solemn reason be assigned, as to say, that they re- 
 " joice at the presence of the sun, and mourn the absence thereof; 
 " for it is nothing else but a little loading of the leaves, and swelling 
 " them at the bottom with the moisture of the air, whereas the dry 
 " air doth extend them ; and they make it a piece of the wonder, 
 " that garden-clover will hide the stalk when the sun sheweth bright, 
 " which is nothing but a fiill expansion of the leaves. For the bow- 
 " ing and inclining the head, it is found in the great flower of the 
 " sun, in marygolds, wart-wort, mallow-flowers, and others. The 
 " cause is somewhat more obscure than the former, but I take it to 
 " be no other, but that the part against which the sun beateth, wax* 
 " eth more faint and flaccid in the stalk, and is thereby less able to 
 " support the flower." — Natural History, Cent. 5. 
 
 The knowledge of botany, in general, ranked high amongst the 
 liberal sciences. Its estimation in the East is well known. In the 
 story of The King, his Son, his Concubine, and his Seven Viziers, the 
 young prince is sent to study under a certain sage. His education 
 completed, he sets off^ for his father's court, and is met on the road 
 by the grandees and servants of the realm, " who place before him 
 " a herb, that he may describe its genus and properties." — Scott's 
 Arabic Tales, &c. 
 
 Wide was my sovereign skill in physic blown. — P. 78. 
 
 Skill in medicine was a necessary accomplishment to Melior, as a 
 damsel of illustrious birth, one of whose most imperative duties was 
 
96 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 an attendance upon wounded knights, nor less so as a proficient in 
 magic : The cure of all distempers, in the space of seven days, either 
 by natural productions, characters, or by the instrumentality of the 
 superior spirits, ranking first amongst the seven greater secrets of this 
 art. It has been observed, that, " in days of ignorance, when first 
 " causes were entirely overlooked, and secondary frequently and wil- 
 " fully misrepresented, the vis medicatrix naturce, or that wonderful 
 " property of animated being, which enables it to conserve its own 
 " existence, to repel injurious stimuli, and to restore its diseased 
 " functions to the standard actions of health, contributed, perhaps, 
 " more than any other circumstance whatever, to inspire the belief 
 " in, and establish the reputation of, supernatural agency." The 
 same observation will, however, equally extend to other difficult 
 attainments ; and, in the East, this is still the easy solution of every 
 mystery in science or in art. 
 
 Even when the principles of science were more generally under- 
 stood, its more secret springs, were still attributed to the powerful 
 energies of magic ; and hence the confusion of ideas respecting the 
 communication of knowledge to men, partly through ordinary and 
 natural channels, and partly through occult intelligences and the in- 
 fluence of the stars, which gave rise to the supposed union between 
 medicine and judicial astrology. 
 
 When men had arrived at the point of at least disentangling their 
 ideas on these subjects, and were agreed to ascribe things directly, 
 either to natural, or preternatural agency, the term, magic, though 
 not necessarily implying commerce, either with spirits or the heaven- 
 ly bodies, still comprehended all liberal arts and intellectual accom- 
 pUshments. The divisions of the science were then as follows: Ma- 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 97' 
 
 gia tnathematica et phibsophica, magia dcemonaica, niagia prcestigia- 
 trix. 
 
 And the seven sciences I made mine omn. — P. 78. 
 
 The magic of the middle ages seems evidently to have been deri- 
 ved from the Orientals. This supposition is founded, as well upon 
 its connection with judicial astrology, as upon its divisions into Ma- 
 gia Alba et Nigra. The union between astrology and magic is ob- 
 servable in many of the Eastern tales which treat of preternatural 
 agency ; and, notwithstanding the more general belief, that the wi- 
 zards of Asia wrought their marvels through the aid of the earthly in- 
 telligences, or subjects of Eblis (Satan), it is clear, that others were 
 willing to ascribe their power to a purer source. Thus, in the story 
 of the Second Calender, a princess, in performing an enchantment, re- 
 peats verses out of the Koran. 
 
 In shewing that similar ideas, as I have before hinted, prevailed 
 in Europe, respecting the communication of marvellous powers 
 through two distinct mediums, the one good, the other evil, we 
 shall observe a singular agreement in some of the particulars, as avcU 
 as the general principles of the belief which prevailed on these mys- 
 terious subjects, in both quarters of the world. Unlawful magic 
 was, with us, supposed to be accomplished by express compact with 
 the children of darkness ; and the same bond of alliance is testified, 
 by the authorities to which I have antecedently referred, to have 
 been common between men and demons throughout the East. The 
 lawful species of magic was, on the other hand, ascribed, in Europe, 
 to a converse with seven spirits, deputed to the government of the 'world 
 by the Creator of all things, under his divine controul, and to be invoked 
 only through him, and in his name. We shall here, again, perceive 
 
 N 
 
96 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 somewhat of coincidence between the creeds of Europe and of Asia. 
 " The ancient Arabs," says Gibbon, in his Decline and Fall or 
 THE Roman Empire, " adored the seven gods, or angels, who directed 
 " the course of the seven planets, and shed their irresistible influence upon 
 *' the earth." A succeeding passage shews, that the most rational 
 amongst the people, before the introduction of Islamism, acknow- 
 ledged also the existence of one supreme God. " There is again a re- 
 semblance in the mode of performing an enchantment, in the name 
 of the Almighty. A queen and enchantress, in the Arabian Nights, 
 in order to restore Prince Beder of Persia, transformed into a bird, to 
 his natural shape, pronounces the following adjuration : " By virtue 
 " of these holy and mysterious words, which I have just pronoun- 
 " ced, and in the name of the Creator of heaven and earth, who raises 
 " the dead, and supports the universe, quit that form of a bird, and 
 " reassume that which thou hast received from thy Creator." 
 
 But to leave this short parallel, I shall proceed to give an outline 
 of the principles of this art, as delivered by the best authorities on 
 the subject. To the spirits, before mentioned, supposed to be the 
 vicegerents of the Most High, were subjected other inferior 
 
 Thrones, dominations, virtues, princedoms, pow'rs. 
 
 Tliey were believed to reside in the planets, to rejoice in distinguish- 
 ing characters or signs, and to be styled as follows : Aratron, Be- 
 THOR, Phaleg, Och, Hagith, Ophiel, and Phul. '' These seve- 
 
 * See Sale's Preliminary Dissertation. 
 
 '' These are Hebrew words, and proper names, apparently taken at random, and ha- 
 ving nothing characteristic. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 99 
 
 rally presided over matters supposed to be under the influence of 
 Saturn^, Jove, Mars, Sol, Vexus, Mercury, and Luna. '' Their 
 powers are thus defined : Each ruling spirit, with all his subordinate 
 authorities, acts sometimes according to the accustomed course of 
 nature, and sometimes according to his own pleasure, if not control- 
 led by the Creator of all things. Whatever he, in the course of 
 time, forms out of predisposed matter, he is able to effect instanta- 
 neously out of matter not predisposed. This is exemplified in Och, 
 who administers solar affairs. This spirit is a long time maturing 
 gold in the mountains ; he prepares it in less time by chemistry ; in 
 a moment by magic. 
 
 These spiritual intelligences were supposed lo preside over the 
 Seven Sciences alluded to in the text. 
 
 T. The first was the art of converting any animate or inanimate 
 substance into any other animate or inanimate substance. 
 
 II. The second was the secret of transmuting treasures into coals, 
 (carbo pro thesauro) and (what seems more desirable) coals into trea- 
 sures, 
 
 III. The third gave Familiars with a definite power. 
 
 IV. The fourth contained the knowledge of alchymy and medi- 
 cine. 
 
 V. The fifth conciliated the Pigmies ; certain hairy men, says my 
 text. 
 
 VI. The sixth rendered the proficient invisible, 
 
 VII. The seventh made the barren fruitful, and bestowed longe- 
 vity. 
 
 •> The Japanese suppose seven spirits, from whom they derive their origin. 
 
100 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 SiiVEN appears to have been the favourite cabahstic number: For 
 there were also supposed to be seveti operative powers, s&ven prepa- 
 ratory rules, seven divisions, seven laws, seven precepts, seven greater, 
 and seven lesser secrets of the art, and seven texts of Scripture which 
 referred to and acknowledged it. * 
 
 It may be remarked, that we read, in the Arabian Nights, of the 
 seventy rules of magic. 
 
 Though the principles, on which lawful magic was built, were thus 
 innocent, and though an exemplary life was deemed an indispen- 
 sible title to the prosecution of the science, and one of the principal 
 keys to the secrets and treasures which it contained, the writers on 
 this subject treat it as a study replete with difficulty and danger. 
 The third and fifth precepts of the art will best explain the nature 
 of these perils. 
 
 A true and inspired (divinm) magician, says the third, governs all 
 the creatures of God at his will ; for the (spiritual) rulers of the world 
 stand before him and perform his behests. But this is done through 
 the Disposer of all things, as the sun stood still at the bidding of Jo- 
 shua. To inferior magicians these send spirits, who obey them in 
 
 * There appears, indeed, to have been, amongst almost all the ancient nations, a predi- 
 lection in favour of seven, as a mysterious and significant number. The Jews, and from 
 them the ancient Persians, and modern Mahometans, have affected it. The Greeks, also, 
 in their seven liberal sciences, seven strings of the lyre, and seven pipes of the fistula, 
 seem to have considered it as sacred or symbolical. " Some modern writers have hence 
 " endeavoured to discover somewhat that is peculiar in this number ; and they have ob- 
 " served, that it is so combined of three and four, that the aggregate of the progressive 
 " numbers to seven, makes four times itself, and is thereby the director of time, accord- 
 " ing to the course of the two great luminaries, even as the moon finishes her course in 
 " four times seven da.ys."— Introduction to Philip Von Urahlenberg'a Description of Russia, 
 p. 84. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 101 
 
 predestined matters ; but they hear not the false magicians, or de- 
 lude them with demons, as God enjoineth, and cast them into peril. 
 
 According to the fifth, a true and inspired magician is he who is 
 called into the art from his mother's womb. All others are unfortu- 
 nate; and to these applies the. saying of John the Baptist: " No one 
 " can take any thing unto himself, unless it be given him from 
 " above." 
 
 This art was, according to Arbatel, communicated to man, some- 
 times even unsought, through a variety of channels ; often by spiri- 
 tual intelligences in dreams, and often in open intercourse, face to 
 face. This author gives directions for the erection of a figure or 
 scheme, by which the nature, rank, and duties of the spirit to be 
 invoked, may be ascertained. He then directs the magician to ad- 
 jure him in faith and constancy ; nor to doubt, but that he shall ob- 
 tain that which he seeketh from God, who is the father of all spirits. 
 To this, continues the same author, succeeds the characteristic mode, 
 that is, an invocation through the virtue of some character or sign, 
 peculiar to each preternatural intelligence in a planetary day and 
 hour. — Arbatel, De Magia. — Magia Naturalis, 8^c. 
 
 Mine art, an I had list to loose my power, 
 
 Had sped through summer skies thejrozen shmier ; 
 
 Or strffum amid the xvaste qf wintry snows 
 
 The scented eglantine and blushing rose. — P. 78. 
 
 The reputed magicians or jugglers of the middle ages appear to 
 have attained a marvellous degree of skill in this species of pres- 
 tige. We read of a vision of a garden, flourishing in fruit and 
 flowers, being shewn to the Emperor of Germany, during wintel", by 
 Cornelius Agrippa. His courtiers were allowed to apply their knives 
 
102 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 to the bunches of grapes, which hung in the most tempting luxu- 
 riance, but were strictly prohibited from severing the fruit till a gi- 
 ven signal from the necromancer. On this being exhibited, the fai- 
 ry scene vanished, and each of the German lords was seen grasping 
 his nose, in place of a bunch of grapes, with the fore-finger and 
 thumb of his left hand, the right holding the knife, in readiness to 
 cut. The story in Chaucer, of tricks of this nature perfoiined by a 
 clerk, has been quoted by Strutt, who supposes the magic lanthom 
 to have been the engine for working these apparent wonders. It 
 should seem, however, that our ancestors were altogether better 
 skilled in optical delusions than ourselves. 
 
 the spirits of air, earth, flood, and flame. 
 
 Heard my high hests, and trembled at my name, — P. 79. 
 
 The third, amongst the seven greater secrets of magic, enabled the 
 proficient in that science to hold the elementary spirits in subjec- 
 tion. 
 
 Yet did I neer my fairy skight employ. 
 
 Save at my father s will, to work him joy. — P. 79. 
 
 Here Melior probably alludes to the exhibitions which I have ob- 
 served upon in a preceding note. 
 
 The reluctance which she shews to the exercise of her art, does 
 not necessarily imply any doubt of its innocence, but is founded on 
 one of the most imperative precepts of magic. As we are enjoined, 
 in common life, to use the gifts of fortune with moderation, so was 
 it deemed incumbent, both on the professors of the occult sciences 
 and of alchymy, as well from moral scruples as prudential motives, 
 to observe equal temperance in the enjoyment of the powers these 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 103 
 
 sciences bestowed. All the works on lawful magic abound with 
 exhortations of this nature; and, in one, the proficient is recom- 
 mended to have particular consideration for the ease of the spirit 
 invoked who, the author observes, is very much dissatisfied at be- 
 ing detained above an hour. This rule does not, however, extend 
 to a familiar. 
 
 That art, which for thy sake I learn d to prize, 
 
 No more shall screen thee from my subjects'' eyes. — P. 79' 
 
 Two evils are the consequence of Partenopex's infringement of the 
 promise he had given, to forbear from any attempt to view his mys- 
 terious love, till their belle passion should be sanctioned by the 
 church. The first is, the destruction of Melior's fairy power; the 
 second, the separation of the lovers. The latter consequence of his 
 indiscretion is paralleled in many stories, both Eastern and Euro- 
 pean, and will form the subject of a subsequent note. The first in- 
 cident appears to be perfectly original, though the principle of the 
 fairy herself being severely punished, independently of the unhappi- 
 ness she shared in common with her guilty lover, is recognized in 
 the History of Melusine, between which and the present fable there 
 exists a singular, though confused resemblance. I give a short ac- 
 count of the story which forms the groundwork of that celebrated 
 romance. 
 
 The Fairy Pressine becomes enamoured of a king of Albany, (I 
 suppose Scotland) and espouses him, on the condition of his never 
 attempting to see her pendant sa gesine. She bears him three daugh- 
 ters at a birth ; the first named Melusine, the second Melior, and the 
 third Palatine. The king, forgetful of his compact, enters her 
 apartment during the period of her accouchement; and the fay, after 
 
104 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 reproaching him with his breach of promise, quits him for ever, and 
 retires with her daughters into the isle of Avalon. These, arriving 
 at years of discretion, are instructed in the disloyalty of their fa- 
 ther, which they secretly determine to revenge. In pursuance of this 
 resolution, they shut him up dans la haute Montagne de Notheebe- 
 lande, (probably Northumberland) where he expires, after a long cap- 
 tivity. Though Pressine either could not, or would not, release him, 
 she demeans herself, upon his death, with all the decorum befitting 
 a widow of romance. She builds him a magnificent tomb, and sta- 
 tions the largest giant, that was to be had, for its defence. Nor is 
 this all ; she deemed herself bound to avenge, as well as to honour 
 his memory, and thus passes sentence on the authors of his fate : 
 " Toy, Melusine, qui est la plus ancienne, et qui deusse estre la plus 
 " cognoissante, tout ce est venu par toy. Car je scay Men que ceste 
 " chartre a este donnhe par toy a ton pere ; et pour ceste cause, tu en 
 " seras la premiere punie; car nonobstant la verity du germe de ton 
 ^^ pere, toy et tes sceurs exist attrait avec soy, et eussiez en brief' estS 
 " dehors des mains de Fadventure des Jamphes fperhaps Nymphes) et 
 " de fakes, sans jamais y retourner ; desormais je te donne le don que tu 
 " seras touts les samedis serpent depuis le nombril en das ; mais si tu 
 " trouve homme qui te vieuUe prendre a espouse, et quil te promette que 
 '■^jamais le samedy ne te verra, ny le declarera a nulle personne, tu viu- 
 " ras ton cours naturel, et mourras comme femme naturelle ; et de toy 
 " viendra moult noble et vaillante lignee qui sera grande et de haulte 
 " p}'oUesse; et si d'aventure tu estois deceive de ton mary, tu retourner- 
 " as au tourment auquel tu estois paravant, et seras tousiours sans Jin, 
 ^'jusquez h ce que le tres-hault juge tiendra son grand jugement, et tu 
 " apparoistras par trois iours devant la forteresse, que tujeras, et que 
 " tu nommeras de ton nom, quand elk va muer de seigneur ; et aussi. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 105 
 
 *' quand un homme de ta lignee deura mourir. Et toy, Melior, je te 
 *' donne en la grande Armenie un beau et riche chasteau, ou tu garde- 
 " ras un Esprevier jusques a ce que le redempteur tiendra son grand 
 "Jugement; et tous chevaliers de noble lignee qui 1/ voudront aller veil- 
 " lev la surveille de la veille le vingtiesme tour de Juin, sans sommeiller, 
 " auront de toy un don de chose quon pent avoir corporellement, cest 
 " h sgavoir des choses terriennes, sans demander ton corps ou ton amour 
 "pour marriage, ou autrement ; et tous ceux qui le voudront demander, 
 " sans eux deporter, seront infortunez jusques d, la neuffiesme lignee, et 
 " seront dechassez de leurs prosperitez du tout en tout. Et toy, Pala- 
 " tim, — tu seras enclose dans la montagne de Guide d tout k thresor de 
 " ton pere, jusquez a ce quun chevalier viendra de nostre lignee, lequel 
 " aura tout le thresor, et sen servira pour ayder d la conqueste de la 
 " terre de permission et te delivrera de la." 
 
 My readers will probably agree with me in opinion, that this 
 story, or, at least, the tradition on which it is founded, was of an 
 earlier date than the Romance of Partenopex, towards the formation 
 of which it seems to have furnished some material hints. 
 
 Hence let him speed! nor e'er again be found 
 (Poor penance for his crime,) on Grecian ground. 
 Hence let him part ! P. 81. 
 
 This speech would, at first sight, lead to the belief, that the ba- 
 nishment of Partenopex was a voluntary act of Melior ; but the 
 declaration which she makes at their first interview, of this being 
 an unavoidable penalty of his crime should he attempt to see her, 
 proves the separation to have been as much a matter of neces- 
 sity as of choice. This breach of covenant, and consequent pun- 
 ishment too, is, as I have before observed, paralleled in many sto- 
 
 O 
 
106 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 ries of a similar description. We have a precedent in Pressine's 
 withdrawing herself from her husband, and in the separation of 
 Raymond and Melusine, from a similar cause, in a romance quo- 
 ted in the pi-eceding note. In the history of Huon de Bourdeaux, 
 we shall find also more than one instance to support, what I shall, 
 I think, be able to prove, by a variety of corresponding fables, to 
 have been a branch of almost general belief, namely, that when a 
 superior being received a mortal into favour, a test of obedience was 
 required, in the resistance of some species of temptation ; that the 
 temptation was usually not resisted, and that the penalty of such diso- 
 bedience was a temporary, or (what was more rare) eternal banishment , 
 from the presence of the protecting spiritual intelligence. With a 
 reference to this idea. See the Lays of Sir Lamwal and Sir Gruelan, 
 Way's Fabliaux. See also the story of the familiar spirit in Frois- 
 SART, &c. &c. &c. 
 
 In the story of one of the Three Calenders, in the Arabian 
 Nights, a prince is magnificently entertained by damsels in an 
 enchanted castle. He revels with his fair companions in every 
 species of enjoyment, and is successively admitted to their beds. 
 One thing only is prohibited to him ; this is, the opening of a 
 certain door. He is, however, unable to resist the workings of his 
 curiosity; he turns the forbidden key, and enters a stable, where 
 he finds a black horse, richly caparisoned. He springs into the 
 saddle, and strikes the animal with a switch, who, neighing horri- 
 bly, displays an immense pair of wings, which had before escaped 
 his observation, rises from the ground, and, after traversing an im- 
 mense tract of air, descends upon a terrace. He here shakes his ri- 
 der from the saddle, and, whisking out one of his eyes with a stroke 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 107 
 
 of his tail, leaves him to balance, at his leisure, the good and evil 
 which he has lately experienced. 
 
 There is a story, also, which bears a strong resemblance to this tale, 
 both in its commencement, which I do not quote, and the subsequent 
 events of which it treats, in Scott's Translations from the Arabic. 
 A young man, becoming master of a palace, unlocks a door opening 
 into a dark passage, which he spends three hours in traversing, and 
 at length arrives on the shore of the ocean. As he is about to return, 
 a large bird seizes him in her talons, ascends into the air, and, after 
 a long flight, drops him upon an uninhabited island. Having reco- 
 vered from the terror created by so unusual a mode of conveyance, 
 he looks about him, and at length perceives a distant sail. As it 
 approaches nearer, he discovers it to be a boat constructed of ivory, 
 ebony, and sandal, the oars of aloes wood, and the sails of silk, na- 
 vigated by beautiRil damsels, shining like moons. These transport 
 him in their barque to a country, governed by a beautiful queen, 
 whom he marries, and with whom he lives in all prosperity and ho- 
 nour. Here, however, is also a prohibited door. My readers will 
 anticipate the nature of the catastrophe. The new king enters it, 
 again finds himself in the gloomy passage, is again seized by the 
 most vigilant eagle, and deposited on the very spot from which he 
 had been originally conveyed. Here he lingers, for some time, in the 
 vain hope of a second transfer to the kingdom he had forfeited. At 
 length, during a restless slumber, he hears a voice exclaim, " Alas ! 
 " alas ! what is past cannot be recovered." He, from thenceforth, 
 abandons hope, and wears out the remainder of his life in tears and 
 lamentation. — Scott's Arabic and Persian Tales, p. 1 16". See a sto- 
 rj' of the same description in the Bahar Danush, or Tales of Ina- 
 tulla. 
 
m NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 A story in the Persian Tales is also built on a similar fiction, and 
 bears a stronger resemblance to the present romance than those I have 
 hitherto had occasion to quote. A king is engaged in the pursuit of a 
 beautiful hind, which he loses after a long and laborious chase. In 
 lieu of the quarry, he is surprised by the appearance of a brilliant 
 palace, to which he is welcomed by the Queen of the Genies. She 
 marries him ; but prescribes a singular, though very convenient, piece 
 of forbearance, as the bond of their alliance. This was, that her 
 conversation and actions, of whatsoever nature, should pass without 
 comment ; informing him, at the same time, that, according to the 
 law of Ginnistan, a breach of this agreement must be punished by 
 their eternal separation. Some actions of his wife, which appear 
 more than equivocal, provoke the king to violate his promise. This 
 is immediately followed by the departure of the queen. This story 
 diifers from the others in one essential particular. The king, after 
 a long term of misery and repentance, is restored to the embraces of 
 his fairy spouse. — Persian and Turkish Tales. * 
 
 * See a curious fable of Grecian mythology, in the fourth book of ApoUonius Rhodius. 
 I subjoin a close translation of the passage alluded to. I should here recal to the read- 
 er's recollection, that the cause of offence given to Cheristany, was her husband's out- 
 cry at her casting their child (as it afterwards turned out, for very wise purposes) into 
 the fire. 
 
 — — - What time his bed. 
 The young Achilles, cause of her mislike. 
 She • left offended : she at lone midnight. 
 With purifying flame, his body round 
 Did burn, nor less by day his tender limbs 
 'Nointed with juice ambrosial ; so the boy 
 Had lived immortal, and unharmed by age. 
 But he, t from bed forth leaping, when he view'd 
 
 • Thetu. t Pe^«>- 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. lOQ 
 
 The reader will have perceived more or less of resemblance, not 
 only in the outline, but even in some of the particular features of 
 most of these stories. We come now to the beautiful episode of Cu- 
 pid and Psyche, in the Metamorphoseon of Apuleius ; which, though 
 still more closely connected with Partenopex than any of the prece- 
 ding tales, is given last, as most favourable to the conclusion I shall 
 hereafter draw from this singular accumulation of analogous stories. 
 I shall collate all the points of similitude, for the information of 
 those who are only acquainted with the main incident of the fable. 
 Psyche is borne, on the wings of zephyr, to the palace of her divine 
 spouse. Partenopex is transported, in a self-navigated barque, be- 
 fore a favouring breeze, to the fairy mansion of Melior. In the ac- 
 count of this castle : " Sous I'auvent de la parte il offrait une mosdique," 
 &c. ; — and, in the description of Cupid's palace: " Enimvero pavi- 
 
 " MENTA IPSA, LAPIDE PllETIOSO C^SIM DIMINUTO, IN VARIA GE- 
 
 " NERA PiCTURiE DiscRiMiNANTUR." In the French romance: " Ce 
 " lieu (cest a dire Chedoire) renfermait dans sss murailles bois, mou- 
 " lins," (§fc. According to Apuleius: " Mox prolectante studio 
 
 " FULCHERRIMiE VISIONIS, MIRATUR (PsYCHE SCILICEt) SINGULA, 
 " ET ALTRINSECUS ^DIUM HORREA, SUBLIMI FABRICA PERFECTA, 
 
 " MAGNisQUE coNGESTA GAzis coNSPiciT." In the account, aJso, 
 
 His child so struggling in the fiame, sent forlh 
 (Ah ! senseless man,) a lamentable cry. 
 That heard, she to the ground her infant cast. 
 And likest to a wind or passing dream. 
 Forth flitted from the house, and to the sea 
 Betook her, nor to him returned more. 
 
 Argonauticon, Liber Quartas, line 867. 
 
 There is an incident of a similar nature in Homer's Hymn to Ceres. 
 
no NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 of the reception of Psyche and Partenopex, and the banquets with 
 which they are respectively entertained, there is the same singular 
 resemblance. The prince finds a feast ready prepared ; he wishes to 
 wash, as was the custom formerly before meals, and an invisible hand 
 pours out water for that purpose. Having performed his ablutions, 
 he places himself in the seat of honour : " Des quil est assis, un des 
 "plats vient se poser decant lui, puis un second, puis d'autres successive- 
 " ment, ^c. II en est de mkme des vins. Tout ce que Vunivers a de 
 " meilleur en ce genre lui est presente." Psyche, carried to Cupid's 
 palace, after the use of the bath, finds, like Partenopex, preparations 
 for a supper : " Viso statim pkoximo semirotundo suggestu 
 
 " PROPTER, INSTRUMENTUM CiENATORIUM RATA, REFECTUI SUO COM- 
 " MODUM, LIBENS ACCUMBIT; ET ILLICO VINI NECTAREI EDULIO- 
 " RUMQUE variorum FERCULA COPIOSA, NULLO SERVIENTS, SED 
 
 " tantum spiritu quodam impulsa subministrantur." The 
 reader will recollect the night adventure of Partenopex. In Apu- 
 leius: " Finitis voloptatibus, vespera suadente, concedit 
 " Psyche cubitum. Jamque provecta nocte, Clemens quidam 
 " SONUS aures ejus accidit. — Jamque aderat ignobilis mari- 
 " tus et uxorem sibi Psychen fecerat, et ante lucis exor- 
 " TUM propere discesserat." In the French romance, Melior 
 warns Partenopex, desirous of returning to his mother, and implo- 
 ring transport in the fairy barque, against the consequences of the 
 voyage, and the insinuations of his parent ; and denounces their eter- 
 nal separation, as I have before observed, as one of the penalties at- 
 tending the breach of her commandment, should he attempt to see 
 her. He answers with protestations of love and obedience, and she 
 consents. In the Latin story: " Tunc illa precibus, et dum se 
 " morituram comminatur, extorquet a marito, cupiTis an- 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. lU 
 
 " NUAT : Ut sorores videat, luctus mulceat, ora conferat. — 
 
 " SIC ILLE NQViE NUPTiE PRECIBUS VENIAM TRIBUIT. — Sed IDEN- 
 " TIDEM MONUIT AC S^PE TEHRUIT, NE QUANDO SORORUM PERNI- 
 " CIOSO CONSILIO SUASA, DE FORMA MARITI QUJERAT; NEVE SE 
 " SACRILEGA CURIOSITATE DE TANTO FORTUNARUM SUGGESTU PES- 
 " SUM DEJICIAT, NEC SUUM POSTEA CONTINGAT AMPLEXUM. GrA- 
 " TIAS EGIT MARITO. JaMQUE L^ETIOR ANIMO, ' SED PRIUS,' IN- 
 " QUIT, * CENTIES MORIAR, QUAM TUO ISTO DULCISSIMO CONNUBIO 
 " CAREAM. AmO ENIM, ET EFFLTCTlM TE, QUICUNQUE ES, DILIGO, 
 " ATQUE UT MEUM SPIRITUM, NEC IPSI CUPIDINl COMPARO. Sed 
 " ISTUD ETIAM PRECIBUS MEIS, ORO, LARGIRE, ET ILLI TUO FAMU- 
 " LO PRECIPE ZEPHYRO, SIMILI VECTURA, SORORES HIC MIHI SIS- 
 " TAT." 
 
 In both stories, the lovers are seduced into disobedience by the 
 false insinuations and advice of others ; Psyche by her sisters, Par- 
 tenopex by his mother. In both the conclusion is fortunate. Some- 
 what of resemblance may also, perhaps, be traced in the servitude of 
 Psyche, and the captivity of Partenopex, in Le Grand; an incident 
 which I did not think it necessary to preserve. * 
 
 The allegory veiled in the Latin fable, which seems, however, to 
 be of Oriental extraction, may afford a key to the various stories 
 which I have in this place assembled. I shall, therefore, first give 
 the observations of Bryant on this subject, and afterwards venture 
 some suggestions which have sprung from a consideration of the tale 
 in Apuleius, as well as a collation of the other stories to which it 
 
 * There is a very beautiful Gaelic tale, in which figure many of the leading incidents 
 of this story, tricked out with much additional circumstance and machinery. 
 
112 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 seems to have any striking degree of affinity. " The most pleasing 
 " emblem among the Egyptians, was exhibited under the character 
 " of Psuche, Vv^ii. This was, originally, no other than the Aurelia, 
 "or Butterfly; but, in after times, was represented as a lovely female 
 " child, with the beautiful wings of that insect. The Aurelia, af- 
 " ter its first stage as an eruca, or worm, lies, for a season, in a 
 " manner dead, and is inclosed in a sort of coffin. In this state of 
 " darkness it remains all the winter ; but, at the return of spring, it 
 " bursts its bonds, and comes out with new life, and in the most 
 " beautiful attire. The Egyptians thought this a very proper pic- 
 " ture of the soul of man, and of the immortality to which it aspi- 
 " red. But they made it more particularly an emblem of Osiris, 
 " who, having been confined in an ark or coffin, and in a state of 
 " death, at last quitted his prison, and enjoyed a renewal of life. 
 " This circumstance of the second birth is continually described un- 
 " der the character of Psuche ; and, as the whole was owing to di- 
 " vine love, of which Eros was an emblem, we find this person of- 
 " ten introduced as a concomitant of Psuche. They are generally 
 " described as accidentally meeting and enjoying a pleasing inter- 
 " view, which is attended with embraces and salutes, and every 
 " mark of reconciliation and favour." — Analysis of Ancient Mytholo- 
 gy, Vol. II. p. 388. 
 
 Such are the observations of a writer, to whom few will deny the 
 praise of learning and ingenuity, set off by the graces of a style at 
 once simple and elegant. But it does not seem to require much learn- 
 ing, or great ingenuity, to develope more of secret meaning in the 
 story of which he treats, than what he has suggested ; unless any con- 
 jecture of mine, on this point, may be considered as anticipated in the 
 vague allusion cloaked in the preceding paragraph of this solution. 
 
 6 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 113 
 
 The fable of Apuleius, then, appears to me to contain also the 
 story of the temptation of man, his transgression, fall, repentance, 
 death, and subsequent reception into the favour of the Godhead, all, 
 indeed, somewhat discoloured by poetic fiction. Psyche is admit- 
 ted to a union with Eros, or Cupid, but prohibited from attempting 
 to see him. She is induced, by the false suggestions of others, to in- 
 fringe the command. The loss of the fellowship of the Godhead is 
 the first penalty of her crime. She humbles herself, and repents, 
 suffers much misery, and is forced to descend to the shades below ; 
 but is at length restored to the love of Cupid, and gifted with im- 
 mortality. Is not every leading trait in the divine relation, before 
 referred to, figured in this beautiful allegory ? Compare, again, this 
 part of sacred history with the story in the Persian Tales, we shall 
 find a prohibition of a similar nature, a similar sort of transgression, 
 punishment, penitence, and final reconciliation. We shall also see, 
 with the occasional exception of the last incident, the same striking 
 points of resemblance in the other stories, of which I have before 
 given an analysis. * 
 
 they viavd a cratvd 
 
 Of Meliors vassals, factious, Jierce, and loud. — P. 83. 
 
 During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, great veneration 
 was undoubtedly paid to women ; but a deviation from strict pro- 
 priety of conduct seems to have been considered as a forfeiture of 
 the bond of allegiance and respect. That refined and factitious sys- 
 
 ' See a very singular tradition respecting the creation, the cause of the divine favour 
 being withdrawn from man, and the early ages of the world, among the Chepewyan In- 
 dians. — Mackenzie's Journal of a Voyage through the Nort/i-West Continent of America. 
 
114 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 tern of gallantry, which inculcated the doctrine of respect and ob- 
 servance as due to the feminine character in the abstract, was, in 
 practice, the growth of a later period of society. 
 
 The principle was, however, acknowledged, as will appear from a 
 future note. 
 
 And for she trembled for her hapless charge, 
 Uraqua zvith the child would climb the barge. — P. 84. 
 
 The conduct of Uraqua upon this occasion, as well as that of Me- 
 lior's damsels towards Partenopex, * is to be referred rather to ex- 
 treme simplicity, than to indelicacy of manners. Their assisting him 
 to dress, might be paralleled by many instances drawn from con- 
 temporary memoirs and romances. 
 
 though he borrazc 
 
 Plaint of her plaint, and sorrow of her sorrofw. — P. 86. 
 
 did borrow 
 
 Plaint of my plaint, and sorrow of my sorrow. 
 
 Drummond. 
 
 But sure no gentle clerk did ever vex, 
 fVithfoul discourtesy, the sovereigji ses, 
 But churl, or villain, of degenerate mind, 
 Brutal and base, the scandal of his kind. — P. 90. 
 
 This tirade against the calumniators of the sex, very much resem- 
 bles the commencement of the Fabliau of Constant du Hamel, transla- 
 
 * He must have been entirely without clothes, as both sexes slept naked during the 
 middle ages. This custom still prevails amongst the lower classes of the people in Italy, 
 and hence the vulgar English proverb oi going to ny naked bed. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 115 
 
 ted by M. Le Grand : " Je ne pardonne pas quon se moqm des dames. 
 " On doit toute sa vie les honorer et les servir et ne leur parler jamais 
 " que pour leur dire choses courtoises. Qui agit autrement est un vilr 
 " lainr 
 
 Clerk simply signified a man of letters ; hence one of our kings is 
 styled Henry Beauclerc. 
 
 Churl, or carle, and villain, were the lowest casts of society ; the 
 first holding land on condition of performing servile offices in hus- 
 bandry ; the last attached to the land as slaves : and hence, as Mr 
 Ellis observes, these denominations were used " to signify any thing 
 " of a character opposed to learning, courtesy, and knighthood." 
 
 In another Fabliau, the contrast between a knight, a clerk, and 
 a villain, is illustrated by an incident sufficiently gross. A third 
 by Rutebeuf, if not more delicate, has at least more humour. He 
 sets out by predicating, as an acknowledged truth, that villains can- 
 not be admitted into heaven ; he then proceeds to establish an ex- 
 tension of this system of exclusion by a very singular anecdote: 
 
 A devil chanced to be near a peasant at the point of death. He 
 conceived it impossible, that his soul should take its departure like 
 that of a better man ; so, reasoning from its base propensities, placed 
 his sac a chasse at the least worthy channel of escape, and patiently 
 waited the event. At this period, a happy crisis of flatulency re- 
 lieved the tortured rustic. The imp, who thought all safe, drew the 
 strings, and returned home well pleased with the produce of his 
 hunt. He had scarcely, however, opened his bag, in order to exhibit 
 its contents, when 
 
 '■ li pez sailli about. 
 
 " All hell is in indignation. The devils 
 
 " maudient I'ame au villain ; 
 
 " Chapitre tindrcnt lendemain. 
 
nff NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 " Et s'accordent d tel accort, 
 " Que jamais nus ame i^apport. 
 " 3ui de vilain sera issue : 
 " Ne pu£t estrt qu'elle ne pue," 
 
 The trouveur concludes by lamenting the fate of the unfortunate 
 villains, who, shut out from Paradise, have not even the alternative 
 of hell. 
 
 V 
 
PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
 In Blois' wide courts no barded coursers neigh. 
 Nor knights, in hall, at chess or tables play ; 
 Nor to the lute, nor sytole's lustier sound, 
 Link'd with gay dames in frolic measures bound ; 
 
120 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto hi. 
 
 For still what thing soe'er did smack of joy, 
 That wrought the love-lorn county sore annoy. 
 His hawks, that wont at quickest fowl to fly. 
 Moping and out of heart, are perch'd on high ; 
 The steeds are fat with ease, and stabled all, 
 And listless, gnaw the crib, and grind against the 
 stall. 
 
 Twelve months the boy, within his chamber 
 mew'd. 
 All intercourse of friend and kin eschew'd. 
 One only wight he saw, and him his page : 
 Of paynim king begat, in tender age 
 To Christenty he journey'd, there to gain 
 Such nurture as beseem'd his noble strain ; 
 In after time baptized with holy rite. 
 And by the count, his godsire, Aneel bight. 
 
 What food the county took, his hand did deal ; 
 But coarse, and scant in substance, was the meal. 
 
CANTO 111. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 121 
 
 His cheeks, that whilom bloom'd like roses new, 
 Were faded to the pale and ashy hue ; 
 And still he smote his breast, and, in that strife. 
 Would call on God to reave his wretched life. 
 
 Wide through the realm the doleful bruit is blown, 
 Till the sad tidings reach Cleoner's throne ; 
 And, for the monarch ween'd that words had might. 
 To charm away the woe which clogg'd his sprite, 
 Troop' d from each creek and corner many a clerk. 
 Well fraught with ancient saws and science dark. 
 So will'd the king. And now, sans pause or stay. 
 These comforters have talk'd a live-long day ; 
 Yet maugre of their rede and musty lore, 
 Wax'd the sad boy more wayward than before. 
 So fares it, when the leech's hand doth sound 
 And search the bottom of some fester'd wound ; 
 Still as the surgeon plays his painful part. 
 Though tender be his touch, though quaint his art. 
 Yet doth the rankling sore but more severely smart. 
 
 Q 
 
1«» PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto hi. 
 
 Thus, in sad wise, weeks, months, and seasons 
 
 roU'd ; 
 When he, the page, of whom before I told. 
 So spake his lord : " Listen, Sir Count, my lore ; 
 " Long have I kept this wholesome saw in store ; 
 " Not, 'tis confess'd, by self-experience bought, 
 " Yet one full worldly-wise the secret taught. 
 " He said : ^ The day may come when thou shalt 
 
 need, 
 
 " My child, this plain but salutary rede ; 
 
 " This,' quoth the senior, * for a truth receive, — 
 
 " There is that may the cure of love achieve ; 
 
 " Vicissitude of sports, of place, of clime. 
 
 " Though strong, the malady shall yield with time.' 
 
 " His recipe be thine ; if not the range 
 
 " Of various travel work a happier change, 
 
 " Prick thy good steed upon some gainful quest, 
 
 " Or pluck thy faulchion forth, for dame distrest. 
 
 " Do this, so keep me heaven, as I no more 
 
 " Will Mahound hence or Termagaunt adore !" 
 
 6 
 
CANTO in. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 123 
 
 Awhile the County ponder d ; then as bent 
 By what the page had profFer'd, spoke assent. 
 The sovereign office done, he bade to dight 
 Two steeds, well breathed, to bear them on their 
 flight. 
 
 Darkling they rode ; but, from the dawn of day 
 Till even-song, conceal' d in covert lay. 
 So still secure they journey*d, and at last, 
 In a fair hostel rest, the frontier past. 
 The varlet slept : The child, who from the first 
 Within his breast a further project nursed, 
 Pall'd not the fair occasion with delay. 
 But clombe upon his steed, and rode his way. 
 
 The page some time I leave, though he ere long 
 Perchance again may figure in the song. 
 Now turn we to the Count, who late bestrode 
 His horse, and to the holts of Ardenne rode. 
 
124 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. cakto hi. 
 
 'Twas ebbing light ; before him, on each side, 
 Stretch'd a huge waste of desert drear and wide. 
 There nothing throve was gladsome to the view ; 
 The wood was gnarry thorns, and stobbs of yew. 
 But past this champaign, far as eye could reach. 
 Rose a deep forest, black with shadowy beech ; 
 Within whose gloomy wilds were heard to bay 
 Fell pards and tigers, prowling for their prey ; 
 The screaming eagle clamour'd for her food. 
 And, hissing, from their dens forth swarm'd the ser- 
 pent brood. 
 
 He not for that, pardie, his way forewent ; 
 The scene and season with his wild intent 
 Right well did sort ; nor balk'd he at the last. 
 As cravens use, the fate he had forecast. 
 For far he had not fared these woods among, 
 Ere a gaunt tiger from the thicket sprung. 
 Stiff stood the frighted horse ; but in his sell 
 Fearless the rider sat, when (strange to tell) 
 
CANTO III. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 1«5 
 
 The sullen beast, with half-averted eye, 
 Glared fiercely on the child, and pass'd him by. 
 
 Then ween'd the boy, his courser might aiFray 
 The famish'd monster from his proffer'd prey. 
 So lighted down, and on a mossy bank, 
 O'ercanopied with trees, exhausted, sank. 
 But scantly had his hand the rein released. 
 Ere on the lighten'd palfrey leapt the beast. 
 And, couch'd upon his reeking shoulders, tore 
 The sinews, and assay'd his fangs in gore. 
 Loud shriek'd the horse, and, with a furious bound, 
 Launch'd forth, and shook the salvage to the ground; 
 And endlong fled through busket, brake, or lair, 
 And toss'd his head, and yerk'd his heels in air; 
 Till, twice two furlongs past, he, breathless, stood 
 On the broad margin of the briny flood. 
 There neigh'd so sharp and shrill, the rocks around 
 And winding shores rebellow'd to the sound. 
 
186 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto hi. 
 
 It chanced that time a galliot pass'd, which bore 
 A youthful princess to her native shore : 
 Safe from the shelves, an aged weight did guide 
 The damsel's pinnance through the roaring tide. 
 
 To her the sire ; "I w^ot, yon horse doth 'long 
 " To one, bewilder'd these waste woods among. 
 " Haste, let us land ; and timely be our aid, 
 " To snatch the wretch from yon disastrous shade! 
 " Nor fear the assay : I have a charm, of might 
 *' To freeze the lion's blood, or daze the lynx's sight." 
 
 He spoke ; and to the shore the pinnance sped ; 
 They moor, and through the mazy forest tread. 
 'Twas as the seer had said ; the salvage race, 
 Low cowering at the potent spell, gave place. 
 
 Meanwhile the senior mark'd where new-spilt gore 
 (Bad omen of their search,) had stain'd the shore; 
 
CANTO 111. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 127 
 
 This backward traced, now served their steps to lead 
 To where the County loosed his hapless steed. 
 Arrived, they saw, outstretch'd upon the lair, 
 A wight all woe-begone, o'ergrown with hair. 
 
 Uraqua first ; " For love of Jesus mild, 
 " Say whence ; and wherefore in this sylvan wild ? 
 " So may God mend whatever is amiss, 
 " And through my ministry restore thee bliss !" 
 
 To her in feeble tone the wretch replied, 
 And wish'd all joy, that was to him denied : 
 But will'd her, for his woes drew near an end, 
 To make not with those ills she might not mend. 
 
 He said and sobb'd aloud. To him the dame ; 
 " Since not my sex may fairer reverence claim, 
 " Nor win thee, as I fain would speed, to live, 
 " And take such solace meet as I can give. 
 
128 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto hi. 
 
 " Learn of what high estate, how greatly horn 
 ** Her, whose solicitude you rudely scorn ; 
 " Own sister to the dame, whose puissant sway 
 " The many-languaged trihes of Greece obey." 
 
 She ended : at that name chill dews o'erspread 
 His visage, and his vital spirits fled. 
 Strait to his face a menial bore his light, — 
 Loud shriek'd the damsel at that piteous sight ! 
 She in those features wan, though sore defaced, 
 The likeness of the lovelorn child retraced. 
 But the good sire, who felt life's pulses beat. 
 And the worn frame yet warm with genial heat. 
 Spoke the glad truth, and bade the attendants bear 
 The body to the neighbouring barque with care. 
 
 I will not tell what herbs that ancient dealt, 
 What characters, what sovereign charms he spelt : 
 Suffice, the boy, somedeal revived, they bore 
 A-shipboard, and then loosening from the shore. 
 
CANTO uu PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 129 
 
 Again o'erpast a tedious distance, land 
 Fast by a fortress on the Grecian strand. 
 
 Salence that fief was hight. There, for the dame 
 A maiden stay'd, Parseis was her name. 
 Back'd by her friendly aid, 'twas now, with art. 
 She cast her to complete the leech's part ; 
 To soothe those pangs his salves had fail'd to right, 
 And pour the balm of comfort on his sprite. 
 Letters, for this, she forged from her so dear. 
 The better the desponding boy to cheer ; 
 And pastimes quaint devised, which youth delight. 
 Chess, tables, and the crafty juggler's sleight. 
 The chase by day, and minstrelsy by night. 
 How well upon the Count such cordials wrought. 
 Lovers may guess, by like experience taught. 
 
 Haply this leech, while so she proved her skill. 
 Might catch some portion of her patient's ill. 
 
ISO PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto hi. 
 
 To waste with such a youth, aye side by side. 
 In fellowship of feast, noon's jocund tide ; 
 From the same dish to feed, from the same cup. 
 In sweet exchange, the rosy wine to sup ; 
 And still, when nature, prank'd in trim attire. 
 Through air and earth and flood breathes new desire. 
 And the small fowl, they cannot choose but sing, 
 Through lustyhood of heart, and joy of spring ; 
 With such a boy to sport in green-wood shade ! 
 — 'Twere perilous, in sooth, to coldest maid. 
 
 Yet might the damsel know not, all unskill'd 
 Of love, what flame within her bosom thrill'd ; 
 Or if she better wist, as is the way. 
 To cheat her conscience, feign'd some new delay, 
 Though oft that conscience bade from peril hie. 
 Fearful to stay, yet impotent to fly. 
 So pass'd three months ; and, in that little space, 
 Waxed the child in health and youthful grace ; 
 
CANTO m. ' , PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 131 
 
 His eyes again their wonted language speak, 
 And health's rich crimson mantled in his cheek. 
 
 And now, the boy besought Uraqua sore 
 (So, often had he made his suit before) 
 To plead his passion with the royal dame. 
 And further, as she might, his constant flame. 
 And, ever as he sued, with him combined. 
 Her voice to his the young Parseis join'd. 
 O'erborne the princess yields, and bids that may 
 With her to wend, the partner of her way. 
 
 'Tis said, the damsel well enforced the truth. 
 How solitude but ill accords with youth ; 
 And ween'd the love-lorn boy, in lone retreat. 
 Might haply pine for lack of converse sweet. 
 Yet all might nothing stead ; come weal or 
 
 woe, 
 Parforce she with the royal dame must go. 
 
132 iPARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto in. 
 
 Damsels, if ye sweet Uraque's truth mistrust, 
 Know this, the foul suspicion is unjust. 
 Too gentle, though perchance to passion prone,.. 
 To wreck another's bliss to work her own. 
 With honest zeal, though sore it irk'd her heart. 
 As best might serve the child, she cast her part. 
 So, after sweet salutes too long to tell, 
 But fitting sisters twain who loved so well, . 
 She plain'd in Melior's ear, with faltering breath, 
 Partenopex upon the verge of death. 
 Wo was the dame ; but quaintly feign'd a part. 
 Strange to the native temper of her heart. 
 
 * Her youth, her love might hold her well excused, 
 ' If once that boy her easy faith abused.' — 
 " His was the crime," she said, "the mickle blame 
 " Be mine, if he again my passion shame." 
 
 " 'Tis well," in brief, Uraqua made reply, 
 " Mine was a cunning tale thy truth to try ; 
 
CANTO III. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 133 
 
 " But sure such caution was bestow'd in vain ; 
 '' Mark now the truth, thy hate hath crazed his 
 brain." 
 
 She said : strange passion seized the moody fay, 
 And thrice, her wiles foregone, she swoon'd away. 
 But she, the sister, when her tale so wrought, 
 To wray the falsehood half-repentant thought : 
 Yet paused, for that she ween'd the dame might be 
 Thenceforth more harden'd in her cruelty. 
 
 There be who think, and haply guess aright. 
 With policy was mixt some little spite ; 
 Unpraised by me. God, when he made this ball, 
 Some blessing, or defence, conferr'd on all ; 
 Tusks on the boar who haunts the woodland brake, 
 Wings on the fowl, and venom on the snake. 
 Strength on the bull, and swiftness on the hare ; 
 But on sweet woman, as his worthier care, 
 
134 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto m. 
 
 A melting heart, alive to others* woe. 
 The last best gift his bounty could bestow. 
 
 'Tis this, fair as ye are, and fraught with grace, 
 'Tis this, more than a shape, more than a face, . 
 Than lovely limbs in nice proportion hung. 
 Or quickest wit that e'er inform'd the tongue ; 
 'Tis this, of every gift and grace ye boast, 
 'Tis this, your best perfection, likes me most. 
 And sure, who doth this matchless charm forego. 
 Who builds her joy, unblest, on others' woe ; 
 Or fails to deal the sovereign bliss she might, 
 — She certes against nature sins outright. 
 And has heaven's first commandment at despite. 
 
 But from these dames I turn, and, as before. 
 What sorts not with my humour hurry o'er. 
 Some here may think that I my subject wrong ; 
 Passion best suits, 'tis said, the poet's song ; . 
 
CANTO 111. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 135 
 
 And scenes of plaintive woe, when touch'd with art, 
 
 Speak the best language to the feeling heart. 
 
 Yet is it harder, gentles all, I wiss. 
 
 To touch the strings of grief than those of bliss. 
 
 Who strives at this, must well accord his measure ; 
 
 Sorrow indeed, chastised, is held a pleasure, 
 
 But, overstrain'd, the nicer sense offends. 
 
 And, like a broken spell, the sweet illusion ends. 
 
 Self too may mix in this conceit, and I, 
 Who in this glass my own sad fortune spy, 
 Fear, while of others' woes I make my moan. 
 To wake the sad remembrance of mine own. 
 But pass we this. Now will I backward tread. 
 And spin from where of late I snapt my thread. 
 
 I left where Uraque to a tale untrue 
 Of the child's ill her sister's credence drew. 
 He, sore aggrieved at her long delay. 
 Yet hoped fair tidings from that friendly may ; 
 
136 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto in. 
 
 And as one morn his wayward fancy led, 
 
 Hopeless of rest, upstarted from his bed ; 
 
 So back'd his horse ; when, borne on palfrey gray, 
 
 He view'd a page come posting on the way. 
 
 A messenger, succinct for better speed. 
 
 He seem'd, and often spurr'd his jaded steed. 
 
 Of Uraque's train, he news of high import 
 Bore, at her bidding, from the Grecian court. 
 How Melior's barons cast their liege to wed, 
 And sought a worthy partner of her bed. 
 He, was he king, or knight, who best should wield 
 The sword, or curtail axe in listed field, — 
 He, victor in the just, should have to wife 
 That gracious dame, the guerdon of the strife. 
 Ere that a troop of squires of gentle race 
 Would challenge at her hands fair knighthood's grace. 
 Hence, swiftly to Chedore his lady gay 
 Will'd him in borrow'd shape to wend his way. 
 
CANTO in. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 137 
 
 Hence was he task'd upon his steps to wait, 
 And furnish forth a train of princely state. 
 
 He, for their freight, hath found for gold and fee, 
 A gallant barque ; but they upon the sea 
 Three leagues had scantly sail'd, when, piping loud, 
 The hollow wind 'gan sing in either shroud. 
 And trooping from the south, with troubled cry, 
 A cloud of sea-fowl wheel' d about the sky. 
 Behind, the deafening tempest raved amain. 
 And in one ceaseless deluge drove the rain. 
 Cracks every cord ; mast, yard, and bowsprit 
 
 springs. 
 And the stunn'd vessel whirls in giddy rings ; 
 Now shoots an end, now broaching to, her side 
 Yields to the tempest, and admits the tide. 
 One doleful day and one more dismal night. 
 The weather-beaten galley drove outright ; 
 But with the second morning clear'd the sky. 
 And shew'd a friendly shore, and harbour nigh. 
 
 s 
 
138 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto hi. 
 
 Thither they steer, there ship their oars, and last 
 In the firm sand the crooked grapnel cast. 
 
 Here learn'd he that a town, which crown'd the 
 bay. 
 Scarce distant from Chedore two journeys lay. 
 The Count, for store of besants, bought a steed, 
 Was wighty and well-breath' d, and good at need ; 
 And for the page a nag, sans spur or rod. 
 Would amble as upon the winds he trod. 
 
 So riding, they o'ertake an errant knight. 
 
 Well horsed, and large of limb. Sir Gaudwin hight. 
 
 He nor of castle nor of land was lord ; ' 
 
 Houseless, he reap'd the harvest of the sword ; 
 
 And now, not more on fame than profit bent, 
 
 Rode with blithe heart unto the tournament. 
 
 For cowardice — he held it deadly sin ; 
 
 And sure his mind and bearing were akin. 
 
 The face an index to the soul within . 
 
 6 
 
CANTO HI, PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 139 
 
 It seem'd that he (such pomp his train bewray' d) 
 Had shaped a goodly fortune by his blade. 
 His knaves were, point device, in livery dight. 
 With sumpter-nags, and tents for shelter in the 
 night. 
 
 He, for he saw the boy was ill bested, 
 ProfFer'd fair harbourage of board and bed ; 
 And, 'mid their social cups, soon learn'd the scope 
 Of his mischances past, and present hope. 
 For wine unlocks the heart, and, sooth to say. 
 Quick friendship springs from fellowship of way. 
 
 It was the second noon, and, far before, 
 Rose to their view the ramparts of Chedore. 
 And now so nigh they came, that they might see 
 The walls and windows throng'd with bravery. 
 The sea was on the castle's further side. 
 And loud upon the shingle lash'd the tide ; 
 
140 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto in. 
 
 There gilded shallops rode, with silken sail, 
 With mariners, with shout of ' how and hail !' 
 Upon the spacious field, without the gates, 
 Camp'd feudatory lords and great estates. 
 Here lusty gallants prick'd across the plain ; 
 There bawling gamesters threw the merry main ; 
 Here their quaint art the shifting jugglers ply. 
 And there in frolic strife the jesters vie. 
 Still from the crowd a busy hum upwent. 
 Loud laughter, and the sound of merriment ; 
 Shrill minstrels pipe, and barded coursers neigh. 
 Drums thunder, trumpets flourish, ban-dogs bay. 
 
 Short space was given that gallant show to view. 
 Ere night upon the scene her curtain drew ; 
 Then to the castle (such Uraqua's best) 
 The County, with her page, his steps addressed. 
 Him the boon damsel to a distant tower 
 Led darkling, and lock'd fast in secret bower. 
 
CANTO in. PARTENOPEX DE BLQIS. 141 
 
 There he with beating heart the moments told. 
 Till down the sky the westering shadows roU'd. 
 Then, don'd the knightly helm, the ventail laced 
 And his young limbs in twisted mail incased, 
 O'erjoy'd, he mingles with the youthful band. 
 Suitors for knighthood at his Melior s hand. 
 
 She on a throne of ivory sate ; a vest, 
 Of cloth of scarlet, her light form compress'd : 
 From Heatheness was fetch'd the precious stuff; 
 With orfrays wrought the collar and the cuff; 
 Of ruby were the buttons, and the hasp. 
 Beneath her dainty chin the robe to clasp ; 
 Her arms, which lovely shew'd through finest smock. 
 Bracelets of pearl and diamond did inlock ; 
 And, o'er her snowy shoulders quaintly flung, 
 (This too was rough with gold,) a mantle hung : 
 Well lined it was with ermine white within. 
 And border d with the marten s chesnut skin. 
 
144 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto in. 
 
 Vet sure, beneath that pomp, her cheer confess'd 
 Some deep and inward sorrow, scarce supprest. 
 
 But for the child — so wrought upon his sprite 
 The vision of that damsel passing bright. 
 He, but for Uraque's care, who, close at hand. 
 Each motion of his eyes and gesture scann'd. 
 Had pierced the crowd, reckless of time and place, 
 And prostrate at her feet had sued for grace. 
 
 I, simple as I am, were she I prize, 
 And cheer above the apple of mine eyes — 
 Were she to motion me with look or hand, 
 — Did I in Mary's blessed bosom stand, — 
 Parfay for her I'd leave the saints above ; 
 So witching are her ways, so wonder sweet her 
 love. 
 
 Laugh'd dame and damsel gay, and page, to see 
 The boy so lost in amorous extacy ; 
 
CANTO 111. PAETENOPEX DE BLOIS. 14S 
 
 Laugh'd youthful knight and squire ; from tongue 
 
 to tongue 
 Was many a scornful jibe in whisper flung. 
 
 Not so the dame ; to 'scape his glances hot 
 And troubled guise — albe she knew him not — 
 She, stepping from her throne, first of that band, 
 Loos'd from his neck the broider'd belt and brand ; 
 And, while all lost and wilder'd was his sprite, 
 Begirt him with the sword, and dubb'd him knight. 
 Ah ! little wist that bonnibell, around 
 Whose cherish'd form the knightly steel she bound ; 
 Yet certes she let 'scape one piteous sigh, — 
 Or was it chance, or secret sympathy ! 
 
 END OF CANTO THIRD. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 no more 
 
 Will Mahound hence or Termagaunt adore. — P. 122. 
 
 " Termagaunt,'^ says Dr Percy, " is a name given in the old ro- 
 " mances to a god of the Saracens ; in which he is constantly linked 
 " with Mahound, or Mahomet." The origin of this name, which, 
 from the supposed character of the deity distinguished by it, after- 
 wards came to signify a violent or turbulent person, has not been 
 very satisfactorily traced. It is, however, very certain, that the 
 Saracens themselves knew nothing of him. But the ignorance of 
 foreign manners, which characterized our ancestors, and the gene- 
 rous contempt in which they held infidels of every description, pre- 
 vented them from making very nice observations on the creeds of 
 their unbelieving adversaries. 
 
 and to the holts of Ardenne rode. — P. 123. 
 
 Here we have again the forest of Ardenne, the favourite scene of 
 romantic adventure. "This tract of wood," says Sir William Temple, 
 " in Charlemaign's time, extended as high as Aix, and the rough 
 " country some miles beyond it ; and was commonly used by that 
 " emperor for his hunting. This appears by the antient records of 
 
146 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 " that city, which attribute the discovery, or at least the retrieving 
 " the knowledge of these hot baths, to the fortune of that prince, 
 " while he was hunting : For his horse, poching one of his legs into 
 " some hollow ground, made way for the smoking water to break 
 " out, and gave occasion for the emperor's building that city, and 
 " making it his usual seat, and the place of coronation for the fol- 
 " lowing emperors." 
 
 The name of Ardenne is derived from the British words, Ar, great, 
 and Denne, a forest. Hence our Arden, and Denny Walk, in the 
 New Forest, and probably the forest of Dean. Bullet's Memoire 
 sur la Langue Celtique. 
 
 when (strange to tell) 
 
 The sullen beast, with half-averted eye. 
 
 Glared fiercely on the child, and passed him by. — Pp. 124, 125. 
 
 Here we shall find somewhat of resemblance to another incident 
 in the tale of Apuleius. Psyche, distracted with grief at the loss 
 of Cupid, seeks the first opportunity of ending her woes by a vo- 
 luntary death. " Per proximi fiuminis marginem prxcipitem sese de- 
 " dit. Sed mitis Jluvius, in honorem Dei scilicet, qui et ipsas aquas 
 " urere consuevit, metuens sibi, confestim earn innoxio volumine super 
 " ripam Jlorentem herbis exposuit.'' — Apuleii Metamorphoseon, Li- 
 ber V. 
 
 / have a charm of might, 
 
 To freeze the lion's blood, or daze the lynx's sight. — P. 126. 
 
 In the fabliau of The Mule without a Bridle, translated by Mr Way, 
 the hoof of that animal has the power of repulsing all the monsters 
 
 6 
 
NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 147 
 
 of the forest. A belief in cliarms, which could subdue the rage of 
 wild beasts and noxious reptiles, seems to have been, and is indeed 
 at present, common to many different nations. Pliny, amongst 
 the Romans, recommends an unction of cock-broth, (such is the 
 singular correspondence between his senses,) as a certain preserva- 
 tive against the attacks of a lion. Leo, in his history of Africa, ex- 
 poses a still more singular secret, by which a woman may put this 
 'most delicate monster' to a discomfiture. I cannot give the words 
 of that explicit Moor: It is enough to say, that his recipe may, 
 literally speaking, be termed an appeal ad verecundiam. The reader 
 will also recollect the virtues of the signet of Solomon in the Persian 
 Tales, which preserves the Prince Seyf el Mouluk from certain fero- 
 cious animals resembling ants, but as large as tygers. Chardin ob- 
 serves, that he has seen jugglers suffer serpents to entwine themselves 
 about them, without sustaining any injury ; while the effect of the 
 bite of those reptiles upon animals exposed to their fury proved, 
 beyond a doubt, that they were not divested of the power of mis- 
 chief : and I might extract a curious passage from Grose's Travels, 
 in confirmation of the belief respecting the incantation of snakes, 
 recognised in classical writings, and more than once alluded to in 
 Scripture. 
 
 Those who have seen the discipline to which rats and bees have 
 been reduced, will probably not withhold their assent from these as- 
 sertions. Nor is the mode of taming vicious horses, lately practised 
 by an Irish smith, (a fact witnessed by persons of high rank and 
 reputation,) less marvellous. This man, at a race in Ireland, prof- 
 fered to reduce an animal to obedience, which had hitherto been 
 perfectly unmanageable. He was for a short time shut up with 
 
148 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD.. 
 
 him in a stable. What passed on the occasion is not known. The 
 result was, that the horse proved not only disciplined to all useful 
 purposes, but after receiving a whisper, (for it was thus he pretended 
 to convey his commands,) for the first time, performed a variety of 
 tricks, with the utmost readiness and docility. The man professed 
 his intention of communicating his secret; but he died suddenly, 
 and the wonder is yet unexplained. 
 
 From the same dish to feed, ^c. — P. 130. 
 
 A piece of gallantry frequent in the old fabliaux and romances. 
 See the story of The Hermit and the Provost, in Le Grand, &c. 
 &c. 
 
 The Count, for store of besants, ^c. — P. 138. 
 
 The besant, or bysant, was a gold coin issued by the Greek em- 
 perors, and said to have been so called from Byzantium, the ancient 
 name of Constantinople. D'Herbelot deduces its etymology from 
 the Arabian beizat-zer, (golden egg,) and says, that the Saracens 
 called by this name a Persian coin in the form of an egg, which 
 they introduced into circulation in Asia. The word frequently oc- 
 curs in the Fabliaux: ; and it appears from some of them, either that 
 the bysant was current in France, and introduced there by the cru- 
 sades, or that the name was indifferently applied to all sorts of gold 
 coin. From a passage in Joinville it appears, that the bysant was 
 valued in his time at about ten sous, M'hich were nearly equal to 
 ten livres of the present day. See Ellis's Notes to Way's Fu' 
 bliauj:. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 149 
 
 And now not more on fame than profit bent, 
 
 Rode with blithe heart unto the tournament. — P. 138. 
 
 A numerous class of poor knights derived their whole means of 
 subsistence from tournaments. In one of Barbasan's fabliaux we 
 have a bachelor of this description : 
 
 " II n'avoit ne vignes ne terres, 
 " En toumoiement, et en guerrea 
 " JEatoit trestouie son atendance. 
 " II savoit hien ferir de lance; 
 " Hardis estoit et combatans, 
 " En grans hesoingnes embatans : 
 " Mais li tomoi sont dtffendu. 
 " Tout a inangie et dispendu." 
 
 Vol. III. p. 9C. 
 
 " Field 01 vineyard had he not ; 
 
 " He by war his living got. 
 
 " He could justj and breast a steed, 
 
 " Stout of heart, and good at need. 
 
 " But his substance wras expended, 
 
 " And tilts and tourneys are defended." 
 
 The observation contained in the last line but one, probably al- 
 ludes to one of the many edicts of councils, by which tournaments 
 were prohibited. Pope Eugenius the Second, says the author of a 
 prefatory advertisement to the Histoire de Jehan de Saintrl, excom- 
 municated those who appeared at jousts, and interdicted them the 
 privilege of sepulture in holy ground. This sentence was frequently 
 
150 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 repeated, but never produced any permanent effect; the policy of 
 sovereigns, the gallantry and ambition of the richer, and the in-: 
 terest of the poorer classes of chivalry, all uniting to support these 
 schools of war against ecclesiastical censure. 
 
 There gilded shallops rode with silken sail. — P. 140. 
 
 The extravagant decoration of vessels was a piece of ostentatious 
 splendour not unfrequent in the middle ages. The progress of 
 luxury amongst nations is nearly uniform. It begins in those 
 amusements and pursuits, which are most peculiar to a barbarous 
 state of manners. Hence it is principally exhibited in the equi- 
 page of war, and of the chace. According to the growth of refine- 
 ment, it is afterwards displayed in modes more congenial to the 
 change of character which society has assumed. Mr Leyden, in his 
 Preliminary Dissertation to the Complaynte of Scotland, p. 115, has 
 collected some curious details upon the subject of ancient naval 
 magnificence. 
 
 With mariners icith shout of ' how and hailT — P. 140. 
 
 In the Morte Arthur : — "Whereas were many ships, and mariners' 
 " noyse with hale and haw .'" 
 
 " Takand their cours with mony a how and hail .'" 
 
 Ballad of Imposdbilites, MS. 
 
 With orjrays wrought the collar and the cuff. — P. 141. 
 
 The French word Orfroy, derived from the Latin word Aurifrigium, 
 seems, according to its composition, to have at first signified gold 
 embroidery, or fringe. It is, however, indifferently used for every 
 species of ornamental needle- work. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 151 
 
 Loosed from his neck the broiderd belt and brand. — P. 143. 
 
 The candidate for the order of knighthood appeared first at the 
 altar, his sword attached to his neck. The priest received and 
 blessed the weapon, which he returned to the novice, who afterwards 
 presented himself before the person who was to dub him, with the 
 weapon suspended as before. 
 
PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 
 
 CANTO FOURTH* 
 
^ 
 
PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 
 
 CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 The sun had clombe the sky, and drunk the dew, 
 When merrily to field the bugles blew ; 
 And trooping fast from camp or castle round, 
 (So swarm the mustering gnats with drowsy sound,) 
 
156 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto iv. 
 
 Rode paladins and dukes of princely mein, 
 And kings whose tissued housings iired the green ; 
 With bucklers wrought about with bone of Ind, 
 And banderols that rattled in the wind. 
 
 What knights of worship came were long to tell, 
 Grecian or Gaul, baptised or infidel. 
 Yet may I briefly touch their steeds of price, 
 And banners gay with many a rich device ; 
 How some the mace, and some the faulchion whirl, 
 Their reins encrusted o'er with shell and pearl ; 
 How music, various as the weeds they wore. 
 Blew, loud and long, the jolly troops before ; 
 How strove the trumpet with the clarion's song, 
 Sackbut with fife, the cymbal with the gong, — 
 Earth shook, and roll'd the rattling sounds along. 
 
 When, on a sudden, ceased the din of war, 
 And breathed a softer symphony from far. 
 
CANTO iv. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 157 
 
 Wide flew the castle gates, and pour'd amain 
 Gay palfrey'd dames and damsels o'er the plain ; 
 In sendal was the shining band array'd, 
 And at their head the merry minstrels play'd. 
 Foremost their Empress rode, upon a steed 
 Of Araby, bedeck'd with gorgeous weed. 
 He, pacing in his pride, so lightly trod. 
 His nimble hoofs did scantly print the sod. 
 Held by a jesse of silk and silver twist, 
 A tiercelin sate perk'd upon her fist. 
 Or were it skill, or rather careless hap, 
 Upon her head she wore nor hood nor cap. 
 To shrowd her crisped locks ; but only round 
 Her brows a golden coronal was bound ; 
 So that, all unconfined, her yellow hair 
 Stream'd with the wind, and wanton'd here and 
 there. 
 
 Forth to a tower she rode ; from thence her eye 
 The landscape round might measure far and nigh ; 
 
158 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto iv. 
 
 I* 
 
 There, with Parseis and Uraqua bland. 
 Amid six reverend elders took her stand ; 
 Six tributary kings, who had in trust 
 To name the glorious victor in the Just. 
 
 A bridge the listed field did well divide ; 
 Beneath, a river roll'd its crystal tide. 
 Here held a king, whose gay device reveal'd 
 The lilies, blazon'd on a golden shield. 
 With him Partenopex and Gaudwin rode. 
 Diverse their colours as their coursers show'd. 
 This furnish'd as beseem'd a virgin knight. 
 His horse, his shield, and surcoat lily white. 
 Sir Gaudwin back'd a bay in Murcia bred. 
 His weapon was an axe, his weeds were red. 
 
 Tower' d on the farther bank a Soldan grim. 
 
 Well thew'd he was, and wonder large of limb ; 
 
 With him the kings of Almayn and of Spain, 
 
 And lords of Tartary and Sericane. 
 
 6 
 
CANTO IV. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. J59 
 
 The rest betwixt themselves the just divide ; 
 Some w^ith the christen d king, more with the Sol- 
 dan ride. 
 
 Impatient for the charge, the coursers fleet 
 Champ on the bit, and thunder with their feet. 
 Now loud the clarions ring, and, east and west. 
 Forth spur the rival bands with staves in rest : 
 Then joustling on the bridge, their lances broke ; 
 And to the sky flew splinter, spark, and smoke. 
 
 There had the lilies been with odds o'erlaid. 
 But for the County, back'd by Gaudwin's aid. 
 He at the Soldan drove, and with a thrust 
 O'erturn'd the lordly Sarzin in the dust. 
 Then first beheld his Melior, bright as flower. 
 In balcony forth-built from lofty tower. 
 Fair o'er the dust and vapour show'd her form ; 
 So streams the day-star through some wintry storm. 
 
IGO PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto iv. 
 
 Thither he drove an end ; and, right and left. 
 Through the thick crowd a ready passage cleft ; 
 Then sheath'd his glittering faulchion, as he stay'd 
 His horse beneath the tower where stood the maid ; 
 And, with a deep-drawn sigh, — " Liege dame, 
 
 whom I, 
 " Pardi, did first unto my peril spy, 
 " Deign," — (and he raised his pensil as he spake) 
 " Deign, lady mine, this pledge of truth to take." 
 
 The damsel heard, and, bending from the stage, 
 ^ Reach'd, with a sober smile, the tender d gage. 
 
 Thus they; but 'mid the press, from man to man, 
 A murmur as of deep displeasure ran. 
 Such is the sovereign sex's boasted bliss ! 
 We construe whatsoe'er they do amiss. 
 Foul fall such evil thought ! and sure that deed 
 Nought save befitting courtesy did breed. 
 
CANTO IV. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. i6l 
 
 Yet this I freely own, had she but spelt 
 The knight, whose hand that precious favour dealt. 
 Perchance had she been safe from tell-tale voice. 
 Some sweeter boon had graced her maiden choice. 
 
 But this is random guess ; and so I glance 
 It o'er, and pass to what in sooth did chance. 
 Though not his Melior, of the stranger knight 
 Parseis and Uraqua guess'd aright : 
 And either, in her fellow's crimsoning hue. 
 Read, as she ween'd, her own conjecture true. 
 That saw the restless dame, whiles in her ear 
 Sounded the voice of him so passing dear; 
 And, for she caught some hope of better lot, 
 A glimpse of happiness she knew not what. 
 To 'say this phantasy by surer proof. 
 She sought the youthful pair who talk'd aloof. 
 
 Then thus : '' Uraqua, to thy blood unjust, 
 " That ever wrap'st thine heart in cold mistrust ! 
 
m PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto iv. 
 
 " Say, cruel, have I e'er, in word or thought, 
 " Fail'd in the love a friend or sister ought ? 
 " Then spare me not, thy secret grief allege, 
 " And, in sure trust of quittance, take my pledge." 
 She said, and from her hand of snowy hue. 
 Her glove, embroider'd round with silver, drew. 
 
 " Sweet sister mine," — Uraqua said, and pass'd 
 Her arms about her neck, and dipt her fast, 
 *' Sweet sister mine, take back thy profFer'd glove ; 
 " I tax thee not in sooth with lack of love." 
 Then wray'd from first to last her late deceit ; 
 But ween'd its end might sanctify the cheat. 
 
 Thus they; when good Sir Coursol rose and cried. 
 First of the associate kings for valour tried ; 
 " What ho, liege-lady mine ! if in thine eyes 
 " Or chivalry find worth, or bold emprize, 
 " Turn, and behold yon knight with lifted glaive, 
 " He who whilere to thee his pensil gave ; 
 
 10 
 
CANTO IV. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 168 
 
 " Scarce by thy favour graced, ere on his shield 
 " Burst the collected thunder of the field. 
 " Lo ! yonder, where the dust and where the din, 
 ^* He threads the triple crowd that hedged him in." 
 
 Now breathe the troops, and now at speed advance ; 
 These whirl the mace ; these couch the beamy lance. 
 Their lances brast, forth flew the sparkling steel. 
 And coursers rallied at the goring heel : 
 Not all ; for these at random scour the plain ; 
 Their lords afoot the doubtful strife maintain. 
 Here, one the bridge with biting faulchion keeps ; 
 And here, a frighted steed the breast-work leaps ; 
 Down hurtling from that arch's topmost span. 
 Deep in the torrent flounder horse and man : 
 Loud lelies mingle with the Christian cry, 
 Montjoy, St Denys ! Greece, and Victory ! 
 And tumult fills the plain, and clamour rends the 
 sky. 
 
1§4 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto iv. 
 
 But now 'twas even-song ; fast fell the dew ; 
 And shrill the bugles green to lodging blew. 
 
 Past was the motley crowd, and closed the night; 
 I not assay to paint the lovers' plight. 
 Let this suffice ; either from bed did leap, 
 Their blood all-fever'd, unrefresh'd by sleep, 
 As dawn'd the morn, the fatal cause must try, 
 And fear and hope be lost in certainty. 
 
 Yet hold I it not fitting, unexpress'd 
 To pass the pomp and order of the 'quest. 
 With close-compacted swards a ring was wrought. 
 There, where the knights of late in tourney fought. 
 In midst, all sheathed in mail, the worthies stood. 
 Voiced by the heralds first for hardihood. 
 Sir Gaudwin, Sir Partenopex, and he 
 The Soldan, and the King of Christenty. 
 There too the royal umpires sate, and there. 
 With the two partners of her amorous care. 
 
CANTO IV. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. l65 
 
 Adverse, the imperial Dame was throned high, 
 Trapp'd in the plenar pride of sovereignty. 
 Ranged in gradation round, tier upon tier. 
 Her feudatories rose, prince, prelate, peer. 
 The uttermost circumference shut out 
 The more ignoble herd, and rabble rout. 
 
 Nought saw Partenopex, amid the press. 
 Save her, who did his every thought possess. 
 Not so Sir Gaudwin ; he in Uraque's face 
 Spied out, as he divined, a livelier grace. 
 And sure, to give that bonnibell her due. 
 She taper was of form, and fair of hue ; 
 Yet might she not, in sober truth, compare 
 With her so passing sweet, so wondrous fair. 
 
 'Tis strange, 'tis passing strange, and yet 'tis well. 
 That not alone the dame is boon and bell. 
 But fair or foul, of rich or poor estate. 
 Simple or wise, need never lack for mate. 
 
166 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto iv. 
 
 Joy to the sex, to widow, maid, or dame ! 
 At this I much admire, but nothing blame. 
 Such want of better sense stands well with me ; 
 For, had men ears to hear, and eyes to see, 
 Then gallants all, knight, clerk, or squire would vye 
 With me, for my sweet lady's amity. 
 Yet out, alas ! it bodes me little boot, 
 That I stand single in a hopeless suit. — 
 But, harping on this string, I aye prolong. 
 And nought advance, the purpose of my song. 
 
 Now answer'd first each rival to his name , 
 Then pursuivants at arms made loud proclaim, 
 Whilere enjoin'd, that of the worthies four, 
 Prick'd from the medley by those judges hoar, 
 In favour of the child two waved dispute ; 
 So 'twixt the Count and Soldan lay the suit. 
 
 Right glad I pass the prosing council : seld 
 Profits the tedious eloquence of eld ; 
 
CANTO IV. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 167 
 
 But most it doth provoke mine honest rage. 
 That rank dishonesty should lurk in age. 
 Those doting kings, by fear or interest sway'd, 
 Against all right the worser cause upstay'd : 
 They spake, as much they fear'd the Soldan's power, 
 Rejected ; if espoused, how rich in dower ! 
 Then told how he his princely word had plight. 
 Upon the faith and honour of a knight. 
 He, wedded, would forego false Mahound's lay, 
 He and the swarthy tribes which own'd his sway — 
 Thus all, save good Sir Coursol ; only he, 
 Stampt in the mould of truth and chivalry. 
 For their false council check'd those elders sore ; 
 Then thus in brief exposed his better lore : 
 
 " So stint we farther brangle. From the dame 
 *^ Why hold we rights our stronger sex doth claim? 
 " To King, or Count, who best shall please her eye, 
 " Award we, sirs, the prize of empery !" 
 
168 PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto iv. 
 
 He ceased, the counsel pleased ; confest to view. 
 The Soldan strode in robes of sanguine hue ; 
 Of giant bulk his limbs, and stern his air. 
 And cluster'd round his brows his raven hair. 
 
 Next stood the County forth ; a rising blush, 
 (For worth misdoubts itself,) his cheek did flush. 
 Simple his garb, nor other weed he wore. 
 Save that which late beneath his arms he bore ; 
 Fair crimson trews, and shirt so white as milk, 
 Unwrought ; the collar was a net of silk. 
 Which match'd his hose in dye ; and from within. 
 Like alabaster, show'd his dainty skin, 
 Razed, maugre of the bath, in many a wail, 
 By the keen pressure of the griding mail. 
 A girdle did his slender waist infold ; 
 This too was crimson sendal, fringed with gold. 
 
 All wishes centre in Blois' youthful lord ; 
 All, shouting, to his arms the prize accord ; 
 
CANTO IV. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 169 
 
 Yet Melior for a while her head down hung, — 
 She, in good sooth, might fear to trust her tongue. 
 Then, -as slow-yielding to her people's choice. 
 As she but echo'd back the public voice, 
 (Such pretty shifts may well beseem the sex,) 
 Half sunk and half pronounced, * Partenopex/ 
 No more she could ; loud shouts the name repeat. 
 And the next moment saw him at her feet. 
 Then vanish'd cold reserve and maiden pride ; 
 Wrapt in themselves, lost to the world beside. 
 They, cheek to cheek fast laid, and lip to lip. 
 Stood close impaled in each others' clip ; 
 And, for words lack'd to speak their perfect bliss. 
 That want they well supplied with many a thrilling 
 kiss. 
 
 This told, it were unprofitable lore 
 To speak how chafed the Soldan long and sore ; 
 Or how, the County crown'd, what game and glee 
 Graced his high feast and rich solemnity : 
 
17<X PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. canto iv. 
 
 What gifts with lavish hand he dealt about. 
 What merrimake was there, what revel-rout ; 
 What yeomen at the butts with arrows shoot. 
 What minstrels blow the pipe, or touch the lute. 
 Or carol amorous descants, or rehearse 
 Legends of knightly lore in dittied verse. 
 
 Yet it were well to fill some gaps were left 
 In this my tale ; Ancel, who late, a weft. 
 Was thrown upon the world, in a young knight, 
 Who tourney'd with the lilies, sprang to light. 
 He found his guerdon in Parseis hand ; 
 Sir Gaudwin had to wife Uraqua bland. 
 And each, thrice happy in her proper lot. 
 Her short-lived fondness for the Count forgot. 
 
 To wind up all ; for him and his sweet mate. 
 
 Glad was their love, and glorious their estate ; 
 
 Loud-voiced by rumour through this middle earth, 
 
 For paragons of praise and matchless worth. 
 
 6 
 
CANTO IV. PARTENOPEX DE BLOIS. 171 
 
 So shines the mid-day sun, whose disk did swim, 
 At dawning, amid mist and shadows dim ; 
 And those dank vapours, as they clear away, 
 Prove but the promise of a brighter day. 
 
 Sirs all, here ends my lay; but should the maid. 
 For whom I have this pretty task assaid. 
 New toil enjoin ; though thankless be the pain. 
 Her bidding to gainsay I wot were vain : 
 For who would 'gainst the will of love abide, 
 He saileth in the teeth of wind and tide. 
 
 * 
 
 Now chance what may, for long, or for a spell, 
 Lordings, and dainty bonnibells, farewell ! 
 
 END OF CANTO FOURTH. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 ■ upon a steed 
 
 Of Ardby. P. 157- 
 
 Arabian horses were imported from Alexandria, for the purposes 
 of the chace or common riding. They were not of sufficient bone 
 or stature for tournaments and warfare. 
 
 take hack thy proffer" d glove. — P. 162. 
 
 This was a security for the performance of a promise, as well as a 
 gage of combat. Thus, in the MS. romance of Alisaunder, we 
 find one of Darius's officers giving his glove to that monarch as an 
 earnest of his achieving a signal success against the enemy. 
 
 Loud lelies mingle with the Christian cry, 
 Montjoy, St Denys, S^c. P. 163. 
 
 The Arabic lelies are nothing but a quick repetition of the cry of 
 " allah, illah, allah!" the Mahometan profession of faith. Mount- 
 joy, St Denys, or, by abbreviation, Montjoy, was the ancient cri de 
 guerre of the French. 
 
 He, wedded, would forego false Mahounis lay, 
 
 He and the swarthy tribes which awrid his sway, — P. 167. 
 
 There is little doubt but that a proposal of a similar nature (how- 
 ever extravagant the fact may appear) was made by Tammas Couli 
 Khan to Catharine, Empress of Russia. 
 
174 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 Razed, maugre of the bath, in many a wail, 
 
 By the keen pressure of the griding mail. — P. 168. 
 
 Frequent recourse was had to the warm bath, in order to restore 
 elasticity to the skin, chafed and indented by the mail armour. 
 
 Loud voiced by rumour through this middle earth. — P. 170. 
 
 Mid erd, or middle earth, is a common phrase in romance, pro- 
 bably referring to the central position of our globe, according to the 
 Ptolemaic system. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
THE 
 
 RED KING. 
 
 t 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The Romance o/*Partenopex de Blois was printed many 
 months ago. A delay on the part of the Engravers has been 
 the cause of its remaining thus long unpublished, I have yet 
 to learn whether a part of the interval, between its completion 
 and appearance, has been well employed in the composition of 
 the following Stanzas. 
 
THE 
 
 RED KING. 
 
 Ihe Red King lies in Malwood-Keep ; 
 To drive the deer o'er lawn and steep, 
 
 He's bown'd him with the morn. 
 His steeds are swift, his hounds are good ; 
 The like, in covert or high-wood. 
 
 Were never cheer'd with horn. 
 
180 THE RED KING. 
 
 And he hath hawks all fowl to take. 
 By field, by forest, or by lake : 
 
 Right royal is his geer. 
 Among his merry-men is not 
 A simple groom, but by the slot 
 
 Can track the stricken deer. 
 
 But hound and brach are kennell'd all. 
 His merry-men are fast in hall. 
 
 His hawks are on the perch : 
 For they have flown at high and low ; 
 And his good dogs have chased a doe 
 
 From Knowl to Brockenhurst church. 
 
 Red William's bow'r was closely barr'd. 
 His knights without kept watch and ward. 
 
 All clad in hunter's green ; 
 The horn about their necks was hung, 
 And at their sides the quiver swung. 
 
 With store of arrows keen. 
 
THE RED KING. 181 
 
 In baudricks of the grey wolf's hide. 
 Their faulchions strait and short were tied. 
 
 And mantles gay they wore ; 
 Sharp knives were in their girdles stuck, 
 Hafted with antler of the buck. 
 
 Or tusk of Denney boar. 
 
 The watchman on the castle top 
 Almost might hear an acorn drop. 
 
 It was so calm and still ; 
 Might hear the stags in Hocknell groan. 
 And catch, by fits, the distant moan 
 
 Of Kingsgarn's little rill. 
 
 Save when the rustling birches play'd. 
 In shifting hues of light and shade. 
 
 By some chance zephyr swept ; 
 Whiles riding over Lady-Cross, 
 On waste and woodland, moor and moss. 
 
 The silvery moon-shine slept. 
 
IM THE RED KING. 
 
 Then all again was hush'd and still. 
 All but the trickling of the rill. 
 
 When loud the king 'gan cry. 
 His knights without upstarted all. 
 And heard him on St Mary call. 
 
 Like one in misery. 
 
 And "Ho !" he cried, " ho ! bear a light, 
 *' And leave me not this live-long night, 
 
 " But while the time with talk." — 
 They roll'd them in their mantles round, 
 Then laid them lightly on the ground. 
 
 And carp'd of hound and hawk. 
 
 Yet little burden in their lore 
 (Whatso the song) the Red King bore j 
 
 Nor when they spake of fight. 
 Of siege and sally, knightly gest, 
 Rough pastimes which he loved the best^ 
 
 Kindled his heavy sprite. 
 
THE RED KING. 199 
 
 But now the mist hung thin and low. 
 Or drifted o'er the moor-land slow. 
 
 In many a curly wreath : 
 His whistle first the plover blew, 
 Then sharp and shrill the black-cock crew. 
 
 And flapp'd along the heath. 
 
 Thin amber clouds bespoke the prime ; 
 These changed to red ; and in less time 
 
 Than I can tell the story. 
 Through Dear-Leap's grove of aged oak. 
 And Langley's shadowy thickets, broke 
 
 The sun in all his glory. 
 
 And with a lusty roundelay. 
 
 The throstle welcom'd in the day ; 
 
 And, towering from the lair. 
 The sky-lark from his feathers flung 
 The dew-drops, mounting, as he sung 
 
 His matins in mid-air. . 
 
 2 a 
 
184 THE RED KING. 
 
 With lords and lemmans clad in pall, 
 Revell'd the Norman in his hall, 
 
 Till roof and tow'r did ring ; 
 Whenas a monk of orders black, 
 With scrip and wallet at his back, 
 
 Stood up before the king. 
 
 ** Sir king," he said aloud, " let be 
 " Thy wassel, wine, and minstrelsy, 
 
 " And list what I deliver : 
 " Better it were to watch and pray, 
 " To fast and sanctify this day, 
 
 " Than wend to wood or river. 
 
 " Last night I dreamt a dream ; behold ! 
 " I saw a church was fret with gold, 
 
 " With arras richly dight : 
 " There saw I altar, pall, and pix, 
 " Chalice, and font, and crucifix, 
 
 " And tapers burning bright. 
 
 # 
 
THE RED KING. 185 
 
 " You too I saw in little tide : 
 
 " You paced as overgrown with pride, 
 
 " Nor brook'd to doff your cap ; 
 ** And straitways as you enter'd in, 
 ** (Though wind was none) with heavy din, 
 
 " The great church-door did clap. 
 
 " — Who of Christ's body doth partake 
 " In love, and for his passion's sake, 
 
 " Thrice blessed is his meed ; 
 " But woe to him that eats the flesh 
 ** Of God, and crucifies afresh 
 
 " His Saviour in the deed ! — 
 
 ** I may not tell, I may not shew, 
 " The deadly sin I saw thee do. — 
 
 " — But He, whom thou didst scorn, — 
 " Lo ! waxing in his anger, He 
 " Did smite thee, like the scaithed tree. — 
 
 " Oh wo ! that thou wast born ! 
 
186 THE RED KING. 
 
 " I saw how from thy lips forth came 
 
 " As it were smoke and smoldering flame, 
 
 " Which scatter'd far and near ; 
 " And then the visions of the night 
 " Went upwards from before my sight, 
 
 " And I awoke in fear. 
 
 " And thus, O king, I read my dream : 
 " Thy faulty balance kicks the beam ; 
 
 " The cup of wrath stands high. 
 " That God, who did man's flesh inherit, 
 " That God, whom thou hast griev'd in spirit, 
 
 " Forewarns thee thou shalt die." 
 
 " Sirs," — quoth the king, in merry thought. 
 And mock'd the man of God to nought — 
 
 " Monk-like, he dreams for gain. 
 " Give him an hundred pence — But mark, 
 " Thou bode me better luck, sir clerk, *^ 
 
 " What time thou dream'st again. — - 
 
THE RED KING. 187 
 
 " Now, lordings mine, for hart or deer ! 
 " Ho ! merry huntsmen, call ' Arere /' 
 
 " And couple up your pack." 
 With spurs loud rang the castle hall ; 
 And yeomen good their coursers all 
 
 Untether'd from the rack. 
 
 The draught is made, the tale is told ; 
 They take their horns, those yeomen bold ; 
 
 And now they give them breath. 
 All blasts of venery they knew 
 For field or forest ; yet they blew 
 
 A tokening of the death ! 
 
 And they have slung their bugle-horns ; 
 Yet still in Sloden's haunted thorns 
 
 The pealing echo hung ; 
 Nor once, as wont, the coursers neigh*d. 
 Nor dogs in merry chorus bay'd. 
 
 What while the larum rung. 
 
188 THE RED KING. 
 
 And groom or gallant, for a space. 
 Each gazed upon his fellow's face, 
 
 Yet not a word they spake ; 
 Then each man clomb unto his steed. 
 And forth they rode, down hill and mead. 
 
 By busket and by brake. 
 
 It was a pleasure but to hear 
 
 The bridles ringing sharp and clear. 
 
 Amid the forest green ; 
 To hear the rattle of the sheaves. 
 And coursers rustling in the leaves. 
 
 With merry blasts between. 
 
 Foremost, amid his knights of pride. 
 The Red King paced, and at his side. 
 
 Sir Walter Tyrrel free : 
 For England's love he left his home, 
 And sail'd across the salt sea-foam, 
 
 From woods of Normandy. 
 
 / 
 
THE RED KING. 189 
 
 He bare his bow before the king. 
 And led two grey-hounds in a string, 
 
 With skins of snowy hue. 
 He was a ready man on horse ; 
 Was better none to hunt of force. 
 
 Or brace the sounding yew. 
 
 Now fast beside the path-way stood 
 A ruin'd village, shagg'd with wood, 
 
 A melancholy place ; 
 The ruthless Conqueror cast down 
 (Wo worth the deed !) that little town, 
 
 To lengthen out his chace. 
 
 Among the fragments of the church, 
 A raven there had found a perch, — 
 
 She flicker'd with her wing ; 
 She stirr'd not, she, for voice or shout. 
 She moved not for that revel-rout. 
 
 But croak'd upon the king. 
 
190 THE RED KING. 
 
 Here first the merry huntsmen loose 
 Lyme-dog and grey-hound from the noose ; 
 
 Crack sapling, gorse, and thorn : 
 Then each man's hand was to his quiver, 
 Then rang the woods as they would shiver. 
 
 With hound and bugle-horn. 
 
 Loud wax'd the merry cry, *' Avaunt !" 
 While shrouded close in woody haunt 
 
 The gallants take their stand ; 
 When lo ! a hart came bounding by ; 
 The king a grey goose-shaft let fly. 
 
 Then raised his bridle-hand. 
 
 So looking underneath the sun. 
 He saw the branching quarry run, 
 
 Unscaith'd, o'er bent and low ; 
 And ** ho !" he cried, " the game's afoot ! 
 " Ho ! in the fiend's name, TyiTel, shoot."- 
 
 Sir Walter drew his bow. 
 
THE RED KING. J91 
 
 He draws his bow with right good-will ; 
 The shaft, if it go true, must kill ;. 
 
 Back leaps the sounding string : 
 Miss'd of the deer the whistling reed ; 
 A nobler prey was doom'd to bleed, — 
 
 No less than England's king. 
 
 The random dart an oak-tree grazed, 
 (I said the king's left arm was raised,) 
 
 It smote him in that side : 
 Deep in the flesh the fork-head stood. 
 And, quivering, drank his heart's best blood. 
 
 Which well'd a crimson tide. 
 
 East, west, and north, his meiny fled, ' 
 The sad Sir Walter first, for dread r 
 
 So without pray'r, or host. 
 Without a priest his soul to speed. 
 Or friend to help him in his need. 
 
 He yielded up the ghost. 
 
 2 B 
 
19'i THE RED KING. 
 
 A Minestead churl, whose wonted trade 
 Was burning charcoal in the glade, 
 
 Outstretch'd amid the gorse 
 The monarch found ; and in his wain 
 He raised, and to St Swithin's fane 
 
 Convey'd the bleeding corse. 
 
 And still, so runs our forest creed. 
 Flourish the pious woodman's seed 
 
 Even in the self-same spot : 
 One horse and cart their little store. 
 Like their forefather's, neither more 
 
 Nor less the children's lot. 
 
 And still, in merry Lyndhurst-hall, 
 Red William's stirrup decks the wall ; 
 
 Who lists, the sight may see ; 
 And a fair stone, in green Malwood, 
 Informs the traveller where stood 
 
 The memorable tree. 
 
THE RED KING. 193 
 
 Thus in those fields the Red King died. 
 His father wasted in his pride ; 
 
 For it is God's command, — - 
 Who doth another's birth-right reave. 
 The curse unto his blood shall cleave — 
 
 — ^And God's own word shall stand. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 The Red King lies in Malwood-Keep. — P. 179- 
 
 The Red King, and Red William, names which applied equally to 
 the colour of his complexion and of his hair, are the denominations 
 by which William the Second is distinguished in the Chronicles. 
 
 Malwood Castle, seated upon an eminence, embosomed in wood, 
 at a small distance from the village of Minestead, in the New Fo- 
 rest, was the residence of this prince when he met with the accident 
 which terminated his life. No remains of it exist ; but the circum- 
 ference of a building is to be traced ; and it yet gives its name to the 
 walk in which it was situated. 
 
 Or tusk of Denny boar. — P. 181. 
 
 Denny is another and very extensive walk. I have observed 
 upon this word, which is Armoric-Celtic, in the Notes to Parteno- 
 pex ; but, on turning again to Bullet, I see that he makes Denn a 
 forest ; and Denny near a forest, from Denn, and /, near. 
 
 And heard him on St Mary call. — P. 1 82. 
 
 Idem rex pridie ante necem suam, vidit per somnum sese fleubotomite 
 ictu sanguinem emittere, et radium cruoris in caslum usque extentum, 
 lucem obnubilare et Dei interpellare claritatem. Rex autem, sanctd 
 Marid invocatd, etsomno excussus, lumen iriferri prcecepit, et cubicularios 
 a se discedere non permittens, residuum noctis insomne peregit. This 
 memorable invocation of the Virgin has not saved Rufus from the 
 
196 NOTES TO THE RED KING. 
 
 reproach of infidelity, and of a most undisguised contempt for the 
 supposed mediation of saints. 
 
 Of siege and sally, knightly gest. 
 
 Rough pastimes which he loved the best, &c. — P. 1 82. 
 
 He was doubtless of a very gallant spirit ; for the proofs of which, 
 see various anecdotes related by the old chroniclers. 
 
 and in less time 
 
 Than lean tell the story, &c. — P. 183. 
 See the description of a sun-rise in Gray's Letters. 
 
 JVith lords and lemmans clad in pall, &c. — P. 1 84. 
 
 " He was," says one of the monkish histories, " a most especiall 
 follower of lemmans," 
 
 Last night I dreamt a dream, Sec. — P. 184. 
 
 Monachus quidam transmarinus, qui, pro ecclesia sua negotiis, regis 
 curiam sequebatur, Roberto Jilio Hamonis, viro potenti et regi familiari 
 somnium retulit, quod node e&dem viderat, mirificum et horrendun;. 
 Vidit enim, per somnum, regem in quondam venire ecclesiam : Gestuque 
 supcrbo et insolenti, (ut solebat) ccepit despicere circumstantes : Ubi C7'u- 
 cifixum dentibus apprehendens, brachia illius corrosit, et crura pene de- 
 truncavit. Quod crucijixus cum diu tolerasset, regem demum dextro 
 pede ita depulit, ut caderet in pavimentum supinus ; et ex ore jacentis 
 tantam exirejlammam conspexit et ita diffusam, ut fumorum nebula, 
 quasi chaos magnum, usque ad sydera mlitaref. Hanc visionem cum 
 Robertus regi retulisset, cachinnos ingeminans, ait: " Monachus est, et 
 lucri causd monachiliter somniavit. Da ei centum solidos ne videatur 
 
NOTES TO THE RED KING. ig? 
 
 inaniter somniasse.'" — Matthew Paris. — He then proceeds to re- 
 count another dream of the king's the night before his death, with 
 little difference of circumstance from the vision of the monk. There 
 is also a similar story in Peter Langtoft : 
 
 " On a Thurday at nyght, at even he yode to reste ; 
 
 To hunte then he had tight in his New Foreste. 
 
 On slepe sone he felle ; the sueven before him ran ; 
 
 Ilim thouht in his chapelle he was withouten man. 
 
 Ne non he sau no herd, and he bihelde aboute ; 
 
 The dures were so sperd, he might in no stede out. 
 
 So grete hunger him cam, and mete had he none, 
 
 Ne he ne wist to wham that he mot mak his mone. 
 
 His hunger was so grete, he wend haf woxen wode j 
 
 Upon the rode he schete, and ete it als it stode. 
 
 When he had eten that, yit him hungred eft; 
 
 The Mariole ther scho sat, of hir no thing he left. 
 
 Whan he was turned and went out of that affray. 
 
 For a bishop he sent at morn whan it was day; 
 
 Sir Ode * of Wynchestere, so that bishop hight ; 
 
 He told him of alle the estere that him mette that nyght. 
 
 The bishop gan it rede : — ' God is he turned grj'm ; 
 
 ' Outher in word or dede has thou greved him. 
 
 ' Therfw all that thou may, to penance take thou space, 
 
 ' That never on Friday to wood thou go to chace : 
 
 ' The river salle thou forsake on Friday ilka dele, 
 
 • That penance I the take, sir kyng, thou kepe it wele." 
 
 This portentous vision of the monk, in which the king was repre- 
 sented gnawing the arms and biting off the legs of our Saviour cru- 
 cified, and devouring the Virgin, the circumstance of the flame, 
 smoke, &c. may perhaps have originated in an accident which took 
 place during his reign, and which is commemorated by Speed; who 
 
 ' Odo de Baieux, maternal uncle to Rufus. 
 
198 NOTES TO THE RED KING. 
 
 relates, that a flash of lightening pierced the steeple of the abbey 
 at Winscombe, cast down the crucifix, broke off the right leg, and 
 overthrew the image of the Virgin standing by, filling the church 
 with smoke. Possibly the hint of the king's dream, stated in 
 Matthew Paris, might be furnished by another extraordinary cir- 
 cumstance related by Speed : — " Most fearefuU was the wel of blood, 
 which for fifteene dales rose up out of the ground at Finchamstead, 
 near Abingdon, in Berkshire." *^ 
 
 Give him an hundred pence — Bui mark, 
 Thou bode me better luck, sir clerk. 
 
 What time thou dream' st again. — P. 1 86. 
 
 " lie is a right monke," said the king, " and to have a peece of 
 monie, he dreameth such things. Give him therefore an hundred 
 shillings, and bid him dream of better fortune to our person." — Ho- 
 
 LINSHED. ' 
 
 Ho! merry huntsmen, call ' Arere!' 
 And couple up your pack. — P. 1 87. 
 
 The cry of " Arere" (arriire) answered to our shooting phrase of 
 " to heel." 
 
 " The fyrst worde to the houndes that the hunter shall out pit. 
 
 Is at the kennel doore, when he openyth it ; 
 
 That all maye hym here, he shall saye, 'Arere .'' 
 
 For his houndes wolde come to hastely. 
 
 And when he hath cooplyd his houndes echoon," &c. 
 
 » This phenomenon, I believe, arises from the water being tinctured with some sort of 
 red earth. 
 
NOTES ON THE RED KING. 19!> 
 
 All French terms of chase were retained long after that language 
 was generally disused by the Anglo-Norman nobility. Some of these, 
 though somewhat metamorphosed, are yet to be found in our sport- 
 ing vocabulary. Such as So ho ! on viewing a hare sitting, originally 
 Ccl, ho ! and Iloicks, a term used to hounds in drawing a cover, a 
 corruption of the old word lUocques. 
 
 " Then saye, Illocques, Illocques," &c. 
 
 Lady Juliana Berners. 
 
 Of this description is Tally-ho, the original word being Taillis-hors ; 
 to express the quarry having broke cover. Gagner le taillis is still a 
 figurative and proverbial mode of speech. To this may be added 
 Tayho, appropriated to the stag-chase, the same with the French 
 Tdiaut, as written according to modern orthography. It is, as I 
 imagine, derived from Tai-hors ; Tai signifying a wet or swampy 
 place, (see Barbasans Vocabulary to his Fabliaux, Vol. II.) to which 
 this animal usually resorts when hard pressed by the hounds. This 
 action is so usual as to be expressed by a particular term, and is 
 called Soiling, in our hunting phraseology. 
 
 He bare his bmv before the king. 
 And led two grey-hounds in a string, 
 fVith skins of snowy hue. — P. I89. 
 
 According to Baker's Chronicle, Sir Walter Tyrrell was bow-bearer 
 to Rufus. The same tradition was once, as I have been informed, 
 current in the Forest. 
 
 The bow-bearer is, by the custom of the New Forest, to be pro- 
 vided with a brace of milk-white grey-hounds. He is obliged to pre- 
 
 2c 
 
200 NOTES ON THE RED KING. 
 
 sent the king with these on his first entrance within the boundaries;* 
 at which time, he is to offer him his bow with an arrow ; the 
 king is expected to shoot the arrow, and return the bow with his 
 purse. This was not observed when his present majesty entered 
 that country. It is his duty to attach any one for trespasses com- 
 mitted on the " vert and venison,'' or " green hue and hunting," 
 as they are, in the same love of alliteration, occasionally styled. 
 This he swears to perform in his oath of office, as well as " to be of 
 good behaviour towards his majesty's wild beasts." According to 
 the usage of the New Forest, he ranks next to the lord-warden, and 
 takes precedence of all other officers whatsoever. His salary is forty 
 shillings a-year, and he is entitled to one buck in the season. 
 
 I may be pardoned this detail, as successor in office to Sir Walter 
 Tvrrel. 
 
 The ruthless Conqueror cast down 
 (JVo worth the deed!) that little toxcn, 
 To lengthen out his chase. —V . 189. 
 
 M. Voltaire, the first, if I remember rightly, who professed disbe- 
 lief of the early history of the New Forest, founded his opinions as 
 well upon the apparent absurdity of the account, as the suspicious 
 nature of the evidence on which it rests. He certainly was not 
 aware, that Domesday-Book, the record of the Conqueror himself, 
 establishes the fact. As to the seeming extravagance of the mea- 
 sure, it must naturally appear unintelligible to one, little conversant 
 
 * An estate belonging to the Mills family, on the borders of the forest, is held by a 
 similar tenure. 
 
 5 
 
NOTES ON THE RED KING. «0l 
 
 with the manners of the times. Some of the inducements to it 
 have been incidentally noticed in another place ; the most especial, 
 the love of the chase, an amusement which, next to the pleasures of 
 sense, constitutes the chief enjoyment of a rude period of society. 
 To this may be added, the insurement of a large supply of fresh pro- 
 visions during the winter, and many rights and privileges, either 
 specified, or alluded to in the Charta de Foresta. As to the supposed 
 absurdity of the immediate creation of a forest, it arises from a mis- 
 conception of terms. " In libro rubro, in scaccario,'' says Manwood, 
 in his Treatise on Forest Law, it appeareth : " Non in quibuslibet locis 
 est foresta domini regis, sed in certis, videlicet, in sylvestribus locis."* 
 Making a forest, therefore, was a mere appropriation of a tract of 
 country by the crown. It appears, then, that William the Conque- 
 ror, finding a large portion of the south-western part of Hampshire 
 adapted to his views, seized upon the waste; in some instances con- 
 tented himself with stripping estates and manors of their unculti- 
 vated and wooded lands, and, in others, either insulated fertile spots, 
 or totally absorbed them, in the surrounding wilderness. 
 
 Mr Warner, in his " Topographical Remarks on the Soiith-JVestern 
 Parts of Hampshire," has taken pains to ascertain the amount of 
 damage which property suffered in this afforestation. He has, with 
 this view, extracted from Domes-day a table, containing two valua- 
 
 * It should seem, that sylvestribus locis must mean pure waste, or wooded country ; as it 
 is not to be supposed that any one could have made choice of hunting grounds where there 
 was not a certain mixture of coverts. This obvious consideration certainly prevailed iu 
 the creation of the New Forest, (before called Ytene or Ytc/ien'e, a name yet partially 
 preserved,) which, it is clear from Domes-day, contained a great proportion of wood- 
 land. 
 
202 NOTES ON THE RED KING. 
 
 tions and assessments of all the manors, &c. in any degree affected ; 
 the first made in the reign of Edward the Confessor, the second 
 the famous census, taken by the Conqueror at an £era subsequent 
 to the transaction in question. " It appears," says Mr Warner, 
 " that, in an extent of nearly ninety miles in circumference, one 
 hundred and eight places, manors, villages, or hamlets, suffered in 
 a greater or less degree : and that the aggregate of the partial or 
 entire loss was more than two-thirds of the original value." It will 
 be enough to give the sum of this table. Before the survey of the 
 Conqueror, these manors, &c. were estimated at 198^ hides, 56 
 yard-lands, 8 acres. 271 pounds, 2218 shillings. In the second 
 census, they are represented as consisting of 59 hides, 5S^ yard- 
 lands, 6j acres. The value is rated at 85 pounds, 964 shillings. 
 The amount of the loss occasioned by the afibrestation, therefore, 
 will be 1391^ hides, 2j yard-lands, l^^ acres; 186 pounds, 1254 shil- 
 lings. * ■ . 
 
 We come now to the demolition of villages, castles, churches, &c. 
 with M'hich William the First has been charged by our early histo- 
 rians. This part of history Mr Warner appears to discredit, reason- 
 ing from the non-existence of ruins, or other traces of such desola- 
 
 » " I confess myself," says Mr Warner, " obliged to that great and useful work, Mr 
 Cough's edition of Camd^in's Britannia, for the idea of this table, though the learned 
 editor will perceive I differ from him, both in arranging the particulars comprized in it, 
 and in certain other trifling circumstances." 
 
 Mr Warner observes, that the Saxon pound was three times the weight of ours. It 
 consisted of forty-eight shillings, each shilling equal to fifteen pence of our money. He 
 allows thirty acres for every yard-land. 
 
 I have not carried the shillings to the pounds, from an idea that there might prevail 
 «ome doubt as to the value of the first mentioned coin. 
 
NOTES ON THE RED KING. 203 
 
 tion ; a supposition which appears to have staggered even Dr Warton, 
 a writer much disposed to cling to the traditions of antiquity. 
 
 It should, however, seem impossible, but that the spoliation of the 
 Conqueror must have greatly depopulated the country, though it 
 may remain a question whether this was only a consequential effect of 
 the measure, or whether it actually made part of his system of de- 
 vastation. ^ I am myself strongly inclined to the latter opinion. For 
 first, the internal evidence of the falsehood of this point of history, 
 namely, the seeming extravagance of the proceeding altogether, is 
 
 *■ The demand for labour must have been extremely diminished by the throwing such 
 a quantity of land out of tillage; many valuable servitudes and rights of common, par- 
 ticularly pannage, or the feeding swine in the woods, appear to have been abrogated, 
 or at least restrained; and at a time when internal commerce, owing to the difficulty of 
 communication, was little cultivated, it is probable that severe distress might be occa- 
 sioned by a local scarcity of grain. What confirms this supposition, is a great rise ia 
 the value of the property which was untouched. In one instance, an estate lessened 
 one-half in extent, continued the same in value at the second census as at the first; 
 and in another, the worth of a half-hide of land was doubled. It may be objected to 
 my reasoning, founded on these data, that the present population of the New Forest 
 much exceeds the ordinari/ and legitimate means of subsistence, and has been for some 
 time most rapidly increasing ; but it is, in the present state of things, ridiculous to sup- 
 . pose, that the inhabitants of this tract would be more affected by a local scarcity of 
 grain, than the people of a county, fifty miles removed. The temporary emigration, to 
 which a considerable portion of them are subjected in pursuit of labour, might indeed 
 produce a more severe effect, were they not indemnified by many real, or usurped rights 
 upon the forest, which affords them both pasturage and fuel. To this great increase of 
 population, to the encroachments on the waste, which involve many indirect, but more 
 serious evils than the mere appropriation of the soil which is occupied, to the neglect of 
 all those wholesome limitations, by which the law had qualified the exercise of rights of 
 common, and (not the least) to the faulty mode of paying the keepers, whose principal 
 emoluments arose from what has been a grand source of destruction t© the wood, namely 
 the deer and rabbits, is to be traced that total want of succession in the New Forest, 
 which may truly be considered as a national evil. The last mischief which I have enu- 
 merated is now corrected. The keepers are prohibited cutting underwood as browse for 
 the deer, and have been indemnified for the destruction of the rabbits. 
 
£04 NOTES ON THE RED KING. 
 
 rebutted by the most satisfactory external testimony to the fact. 
 Nay, we not only have the authority of Domesday- Book, in proof of 
 this individual act of tyranny, we find from the Charta de Forestd, 
 before cited, and from Magna Charta, that such a monstrous exer- 
 cise of power was by no means infrequent. ' The first seeming 
 barrier to our belief thus removed, and the main fact of the de- 
 vastation incontestably established, it is not much to say, that the 
 verification of that part of a story which has been accurately sifted, 
 may naturally dispose us to place faith in that which either has not 
 been, or cannot, from the nature of circumstances, be, subjected to an 
 equally rigid examination. But what if I prove, notwithstanding 
 the assertions of former writers, that vestiges of ancient buildings 
 yet exist in the New Forest, and that it is difficult to assign any 
 cause for their demolition, but that of the tyranny of William ? The 
 establishment of the first assertion, and the concurrence of all pro- 
 babilities in favour of the last, must substantiate the general truth of 
 the story, however facts may have been warped, or exaggerated in 
 detail. 
 
 The idea that no vestiges of ancient buildings yet exist in the New 
 Forest, is utterly unfounded ; though the fact is certainly little known, 
 and almost confined to the small circle of keepers and ancient inha- 
 bitants. In many spots, though no ruins are visible above ground, 
 either the enceinte of erections is to be traced, by the elevation of 
 the earth, or fragments of building-materials have been discovered, 
 on turning up the surface. The names also of those places would 
 
 t In Magna Charta ; " Omnesforeste, que afforestate sunt tempore iiostro, statim deqffbrea- 
 tentur." — In another passage it speaks, " deforeslis deafforestandis vel remansurisforestis, 
 quas Henricus, pater nosier, vel Ricardus, frater noster, affbrestavemnt." 
 
NOTES ON THE RED KING. 205 
 
 almost, if other evidence were wanting, substantiate the general fact, 
 and even the nature of each individual edifice. As it may be a 
 temptation to some to prosecute further local researches, I subjoin a 
 list of the places in question. Castle Malwood I have already men- 
 tioned. There remain Castle-Hill, on the banks of Avon ; Lucas 
 Castle, in Broomey-Walk ; Thomsons Castle, which is, if I recollect 
 rightly, in Ashley-Walk ; the Castle in Burley, near which the foun- 
 dation of a church or chapel is said to have been formerly visible; 
 and Qiieeris-Bawer, in Rhinefield-Walk. In Ashurst-Walk also is a 
 spot called Church-Place, where a ridge of elevated earth incloses a 
 square of about forty feet, and a similar appearance is visible in 
 DennylVait ; though here the square is of somewhat smaller di- 
 mensions. Tradition also marks this as the site of a church. Not 
 far from this place, near where the old pound of Denny formerly 
 stood, are several elevations of soil. Digging in these spots, I found 
 very minute fragments of brick and mortar. I discovered the same 
 materials, in the same state of decay, in Denny-JVait and in Church- 
 Place. In the latter also were dug up fragments of a species of rock, 
 of which there is a great quantity at Burley, situated at the other 
 extremity of the forest, and which was probably used for a foundation, 
 chalk, and slate cut thin and bored with holes, like that now used for 
 the covering of buildings. The groom-keeper too informed me, that 
 a bunch of keys was some years since discovered there. The name of 
 Church-Moor, a bog close to No- Man's Walk, seems at least to ar- 
 gue the prevalence of a belief at some period or other, of such an 
 edifice having existed on this spot. But the nature of the soil ren- 
 ders a search for materials almost impracticable. On Peel-Hill also, 
 in Ashurst-Walk, I had some openings made in the ground consi- 
 dering the name, (which signifies a square tower,) and the appearance 
 
206 NOTES ON THE RED KING. 
 
 of the place, an eminence, flat on the top, with four sides sloping 
 regularly into planes, all inclined at the same angle to the horizon, as 
 a certain clue to further discoveries. I was in this instance, however, 
 disappointed, though a more extensive removal of the earth may 
 possibly be attended with better success. 
 
 The total rasure of these buildings, and the scanty remains of mate- 
 rials under the surface, appear at first a singular circumstance. But 
 it is to be observed, that the mansions, and even the churches of the 
 Anglo-Saxons, were built of the shghtest materials, frequently of 
 wood ; and that of all countries, a forest is the least favourable to the 
 preservation of ruins. As they are the property of the crown, neither 
 the pride nor interest of individuals is concerned in their preserva- 
 tion. They are a strong temptation to the lower classes of the com- 
 munity, nursed in habits of depredation upon the waste, while in no 
 instance is there greater facility of plunder. The " vert and veni- 
 son " are under the care of particular officers, who are responsible for 
 nothing beyond. These buildings were also situated in remote and 
 solitary places, little subject to observation, and perhaps unvisited, 
 but with the view of spoil, for weeks together. 
 
 This absence of remains of ruins above the surface need not, there- 
 fore, reasoning from all the instances which I have adduced, lead us 
 to despair of further discoveries, and these are perhaps yet designated 
 by the names of places. May we not consider the termination of 
 ham and ton, yet annexed to some wood-lands, as evidence of the 
 former existence of hamlets and towns ? * 
 
 » The names of two existing villages in the forest have this common termination. 
 Fritham, (Frith, a forest, Celt, and Sax., and ham, a hamlet, village, or town,) and WoO' 
 ton, (Wood-town.) 
 
NOTES ON THE RED KING. «or 
 
 But it is very probable also, that such an investigation, founded 
 upon a careful examination of the soil, might be successful even 
 where no similar index exists, as we have seen in two of the cases 
 recapitulated. " Such is the veneration for sylvan scenes in early 
 periods of society, that towns and villages, thus situated, usually pre- 
 serve the original name of the places in which they were built. 
 Thus, in the wilds of Kent, and other woodland districts, the names 
 of villages usually end in hurst, a wood, (Saxon,) while the preced- 
 ing division of the word, always compound, usually refers to its cha- 
 racter or properties. Thus, Midhurst in Sussex, Lyndhurst^ Lymc- 
 wood, and Brokenhurst, Broken-wood in the New Forest. Bram- 
 shaw," in the same district, may be added to this class. 
 
 Having shewn, I think, that a certain degree of depopulation must 
 either have made part, or at least have been a necessary consequence, 
 of the measures of the Conqueror; having stated actual traces of 
 many buildings long since demolished, and accounted for the scan- 
 tiness of the materials which are yet preserved ; and having explain- 
 ed with what prospect of success a further research may be prose- 
 cuted, it yet remains to determine, whether the destruction of the 
 edifices in question can be certainly adduced in support of the vera- 
 city of our ancient chronicles. 
 
 And first for the castles ; though their destruction might be attri- 
 buted to time, this would not account for their being disparked 
 
 » In Denny Wait, {Vact, wet, Saxon,) in the Walk of Denny, and near the old 
 Pound of Denny. 
 
 * Though Lyndhurst, in its primary sense, certainly signifies Lyme-wood, many au- 
 thorities might be cited to prove, that the acceptation of Lynd was usually much wider, 
 and that it stood for large trees in general. This appears to have been the case in the 
 present instance ; for the lyme is no where indigenous in the New Forest. 
 
 e I do not know the meaning of Brum. Shaw signifies coppice or underwood. 
 
 2 D 
 
«08 NOTES ON THE RED KING. 
 
 and insulated in the forest : and this circumstance I consider as 
 strongly corroborative of the truth of history ; for such edifices were 
 always surrounded with domains of greater or less extent; and the 
 non-existence or afforestation of these, if we set aside the cause to 
 which I am disposed to attribute it, can only be accounted for in 
 two ways, either by supposing that they were originally royal resi- 
 dences, or that they had lapsed by forfeiture to the crown. But 
 we know of no royal castle in the forest, with the exception of 
 Malwood; and it is not probable that so many buildings, within so 
 small a space, should have incurred this penalty. Nor would the 
 supposition solve the difficulty, with respect to other buildings and 
 to the supposed remains of churches, which I have before described. 
 
 I know but two instances of traces of ruins which cannot be com- 
 prized under the head of castles and churches. The first of these is 
 Queens-Bower. Here the name explains the nature of the edifice, 
 which is gone. I imagine this an erection subsequent to the Con- 
 quest ; the more so, as a large field, called Queens-Mead, yet inclosed, 
 Avas annexed to it. The vestiges of habitations near the old pound 
 at Denny, I should conjecture, composed a hamlet or village ; for the 
 destruction of which it will be difficult to account, but on the sup- 
 position of its forming one of those said to have been demolished. 
 
 For the churches ; they exactly correspond, in form and aspect, 
 with those of an Anglo-Saxon aera; * but as no one can suppose the 
 inhabitants of the Forest informed upon such a point of antiquarian 
 knowledge, their belief, founded on tradition, will tend to establish 
 
 * They are, as I before observed, square. In one of these, a line drawn through the 
 centre would point due east and west. In the other, the deviation is not greater than is 
 even commoa in many old churches yet existing. See Grose's Preface to his ArUiquU 
 ties. , 
 
 10 
 
NOTES ON THE RED KING. 409 
 
 the character which I should, on other grounds, assign to these edi- 
 fices. I ought, however, to remind the reader of a circumstance, 
 which he may think subversive of the opinion which I hazard ; I 
 mean the discovery of slate, certainly not in use till a much later 
 period, amongst the materials discovered in Church-Place. It is 
 not, however, uncommon to see the ruins of palaces and churches 
 pieced, or transformed by later additions. 
 
 " As ia those domes where Caesars once bore sway, 
 Defaced by time, and tottering in decay. 
 There in the ruin, heedless of the dead. 
 The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed. 
 And wondering man could want the larger pile, 
 £ixults and owns his cottage with a smile." 
 
 A pent-house, or inclined roof of slate, might, in the present case, 
 have been added to some part of the upright walls ; and (these 
 crumbling away, or thrown down, for the purpose of spoil,) be min- 
 gled with the materials of a remoter age. But more on this subject 
 in the succeeding note, which is immediately connected with the 
 present. 
 
 Among the fragments of the church. — P. 1 89. 
 
 The scene in which I have laid the death of Rufus is no poetical 
 fiction. " Walter Hennyngforde," says Grafton in his Chronicle, 
 " wryteth, that in the place where the king was slaine, had been a 
 church in old tyme, the which church, with other in his father's tyme, 
 was pulled downe and destroyed for the enlargyng of his said forest." 
 I certainly also recollect to have read, in some old writer, of the re- 
 mains of such a church existing in his time. Baker, in his Chroni« 
 cle, supposes, that this church or chapel was erected in consequence 
 
210 NOTES ON THE RED KING. 
 
 of the death of Rufus ; *■ but he is posterior in point of date, and his 
 authority on a matter of fact is, therefore, less vahd than that of 
 Hennyngforde. No vestiges of such a building are at present visi- 
 ble. 
 
 In excuse for all this circumstance, I must observe, that this can 
 hardly be considered as one of those " historical doubts," the solu- 
 tion of which involves nothing beyond the mere disentanglement 
 of an intricate knot. It may be considered as making one of a se- 
 ries of acts of tyranny, unvarnished with any plea which might 
 palliate or disguise its enormity, and, as such, forming a curious 
 feature in the history of manners. 
 
 JVhen lo! a hart came bounding by, &c. — P. 190. 
 
 A hart is, properly speaking, a stag in his sixth year; though it is 
 more commonly used to designate the male of the species in gene- 
 ral. The Lady Juliana Berners, treating of the manner of hunting 
 "bestys, whether they ben bestys of venery, or of chace, or rascall," 
 and also " shewing al termys convenyent, as well to the houndes as 
 to the beastys aforesaid," thus defines him in all his stages : 
 
 " And for to speke of the harte, yf ye woll it lere, "" 
 
 Ye shall hym a calfe call at the fyrste yere ; 
 
 The seconde yere a broket, so shall ye hym call ; 
 
 The thyrde yere a spayad, lernyth thus all ; 
 
 The fourth yere a stagge call hym by ony waye ; 
 
 The fyfth yere a grete stagge your dame bydde you say; 
 
 ^ Baker was perhaps unacquainted with Hennyngforde, and formed his conjecture 
 upon a practice more frequent in a later period than in the beginning of the twelfth 
 century ; I mean the custom of erecting a chapel on the spot where a distinguished per- 
 son had perished, and endowing it for the celebration of masses for the repose of his souL 
 
NOTES ON THE RED KING. «ll 
 
 The syxte yere call him an harte. 
 
 Doott so, my chylde, whyles ye ben in quarte." 
 
 Then raised his bridle-hand, &c. — P. I90. 
 This and the other circumstances of his death are closely copied 
 from the Chronicles, 
 
 Uo ! in the fiend's name, Tyrrel, shoot. — P. lyo. 
 
 Trahe, diabole ! was, according to Matthew Paris, the exclama- 
 tion of the king. The diabole is apparently a translation of the French 
 favourite apostrophe, " DiableJ" 
 
 and to St Swithin's fane 
 
 Convey' d the bleeding corse. — P. I92. 
 Winchester cathedral. 
 
 And still, so runs our Forest creed, 
 
 Flourish the pious woodman s seed, &c. — P. 192. 
 
 This man's name was Purkess. He is the ancestor of a very nu- 
 merous tribe. Of his lineal descendants it is reported, that, living 
 on the same spot, they have constantly been proprietors of a horse 
 and cart, but never attained to the possession of a team. A sup- 
 posed wheel of the cart, which conveyed the body of Rufus, wa& 
 some years since exhibited by this family. 
 
 And still, in merry Lyndhurst-hall, 
 Red William's stirrup decks the wall, &c. — P. 192. 
 A large rusted stirrup of coarse workmanship, and resembling in 
 form those used in the middle ages, is still preserved in the court- 
 hall at Lyndhurst. This stirrup, according to tradition, belonged 
 
212 NOTES ON THE RED KING. 
 
 to Rufus. It is yet the favourite ensign of the forest; and was for- 
 merly applied to a very singular purpose, namely, as a test for ascer- 
 taining what dogs should suffer expeditation. Those who could not 
 be drawn through the iron were subjected to this operation, in order 
 to incapacitate them from the pursuit of deer. It is thus described 
 by Manwood: — 
 
 " In the 31st canon of Canutus, the la wing of dogs is called 
 genuscissio, which was cutting or laming them in the hams,' and there- 
 fore the old foresters called it Hamling or Hoxing, and some called 
 it Hock-sinewing. 
 
 " King H. 2. was the first who cut off the claws of the forefeet of 
 mastiffs, and therefore he called it expeditatio, that is, by making 
 them unable to run expede, viz. from the hurt of the foot, by cutting 
 off three claws. Assis : fVoodstock, Artick 6. Serjeant Fleetwood 
 was of opinion, that 'tis called expeditatio, quasi ex pede statio, a.let or 
 stay to run, and caused by that hurt of the foot. But this seems to 
 be a jingle." 
 
 Our custom appears to have been a very severe local extension of 
 the forest law, which, according to the author cited above, confined 
 the operation of hamUng to mastiffs, (p. 1 12.) 
 
 The stirrup, suspended among smoked escutcheons of the royal 
 arms, and stag-antlers, makes a good addition to the forest ornaments 
 of the hall of judicature. The justice-seat and bar are of ancient and 
 Inassive oak ; an enormous bacon-rack, of the same age and materials, 
 surmounts the whole. The green habits of the judges and their oflScers 
 
 * I should rather imagine, from the name, that it must have been some injury inflicted 
 on the knee. 
 
NOTES ON THE RED KING. 213 
 
 assort well with the rest; and it is impossible to see a court held un- 
 der this sylvan pomp and circumstance, to view the mixed and oddly 
 accoutred rabble of people attached, to hear their defences, founded on 
 some wild notions of natural law, delivered in an uncouth jargon, 
 still considerably dashed with Anglo-Saxon, to observe the sangfroid 
 with which they hear the decision of their judges, and, not least, 
 to observe the prompt dispatch of justice, — it is impossible, I say, to 
 witness such a scene (as a spectator once observed to me) without 
 being transported in imagination back to the fourteenth century. 
 
 And a fair stone, in green Malwood, 
 Informs the traveller where stood 
 The memorable tree. — P. 192. 
 
 In a bottom in Castle- Mai wood Walk, near Stoney-Cross, is a 
 triangular stone, on the three sides of which are graved : 
 
 1. 
 
 "Here stood the oak-tree, on which an arrow, shot by Sir Walter 
 Tyrrel at a stag, glanced, and struck King William II., surnamed 
 Rufus, in the breast ; of which stroke he instantly died, on the 2d 
 of August 1100." 
 
 2. 
 
 " King William II. being thus slain, was laid on a cart, belong- 
 ing to one Purkess, and drawn from hence to Winchester, and bu- 
 ried in the cathedral church of that city." 
 
 3. 
 
 " That the spot, where an event so memorable happened, might 
 not hereafter be unknown, this stone was set up by John Lord De- 
 laware, who has seen the tree growing in this place." 
 
€14 NOTES ON THE RED KING. 
 
 An addition to this inscription, by the late Lord Delaware, notices 
 the present king's visit to the spot, &c. 
 
 John Lord Delaware had probably the authority of tradition for 
 his assertion respecting the tree. " They," says Mr Gilpin, in his 
 Remarks on Forest Scenery, " who think a tree insufficient to record 
 a fact of so ancient a date, may be reminded, that seven hundred 
 years (and it is no more since the death of Rufus) make no extraor- 
 dinary period in the age of an oak." 
 
 . Thus in those fields the Red King died, 
 His father zvasted in his pride; 
 
 For it is God's command, — 
 TVho doth another's birth-right reave, 
 The curse unto his blood shall cleave, — 
 
 — And God's awn word shall stand. — P. 193. 
 
 An extraordinary coincidence of circumstances strengthened the 
 universal belief in an immediate manifestation of the vindictive jus- 
 tice of Providence. ' 
 
 " The death of William Rufus," says Dr Milner, in his History of 
 Winchester, " happened in the year 1 100, and was considered, at 
 the time it happened, as a mark of the divine wrath against the fa- 
 mily of the Conqueror, and the person of his son Rufus, and has an 
 immediate relation with the history of this city. Being on a hunt- 
 ing party in the neighbouring forest, so famous for the devastations 
 and sacrileges which his father had committed in it, and also for the 
 fatal accidents which had there befallen a brother of his and a 
 nephew; if we may believe ancient historians, he received diffis- 
 rent intimations of the fate which awaited himself, at the same 
 place, which intimation had the eflfect upon him, of causing him to 
 
NOTES TO THE RED KING. 215 
 
 stay within doors, at the castle of Mallwood, where he then resided, 
 during the early part of the day on which the accident happened ; 
 but, being heated with wine at dinner, he began to ridicule the 
 warnings of the monk, who had come to caution him not to hunt 
 that day, and issued into the thickest part of the forest, where, ^t the 
 distance of half a mile from the said castle, having called upon his 
 bow-bearer, in a strain of impetuous profaneness, to shoot at a stag, 
 which he had missed, he received the arrow into his own bosom, 
 and died upon the spot. The next day the royal corpse was brought 
 to this city, defiled with blood and dirt, in no better vehicle than a 
 charcoal-maker's cart. Here, however, it was treated with proper 
 respect, and buried in the centre of the cathedral choir, many per- 
 sons looking on, says our historian, but few grieving. A proof of 
 the bad opinion which the people entertained of the deceased mo- 
 narch is, that they interpreted the fall of a certain tower in the 
 cathedral, which happened the following year, and covered his tomb 
 with its ruins, into a sign of the displeasure of heaven that he had 
 received Christian burial." 
 
 I have little to observe upon this passage, except that De Cour- 
 tois, or Courthose, (his christian name also is variously given,) a 
 natural son of the Conqueror, and the brother of Rufus, is believed 
 also to have met his fate in the New Forest. He was, according to 
 the Chronicles, killed by a pestilential blast, which crossed him while 
 hunting. The West Indian fever is said to be often embodied in 
 something like a fog or vapour; and those who have the misfortune 
 to find themselves within its sphere, seldom escape the malignant 
 influence. When this tract of country abounded more with swamp 
 and underwood, it might possibly be obnoxious to a similar evil. 
 For the other judgment on the descendants of the Conqueror; Graf- 
 
 2 E 
 
216 NOTES TO THE RED KING. 
 
 ton, in his Chronicle, affirms, " In the same forest, by a hke chance, 
 was slaine also a httle before, Richard, sonne unto Robert Duke of 
 Normandy, by a knight of his owne." Camden assigns him also 
 both a different name and catastrophe; " Henrie likewise, his grand 
 child, by Robert of Normandy," says that writer, " whiles he hotly 
 pursued his game in this chace, was hanged amongst the boughes, 
 and so died," &c. 
 
 The reader will be surprised to hear of the translation of the bones 
 of Rufus, after these supposed indications of the wrath of heaven, 
 " We have hitherto omitted," says Dr Milner, " to mention the 
 tomb of the last of our monarchs, who was interred in this ancient 
 mausoleum of royalty, viz. William Rufus, though this is one of the 
 most conspicuous objects in this part of the church, being situated 
 near the step, in the middle between the north and south doors of 
 the choir. It consists of English grey marble, being of form that is 
 dos d'ane", (the lid rising to a ridge in the middle, with both ends 
 sloped off triangularly, like the roof of a house,) " and is raised about 
 two feet above the ground. By whom, or on what occasion, his 
 bones were removed out of the tomb and enshrined, does not appear; 
 it is probable, however, that this was done by Bishop de Blois," 
 (Henry de Blois, brother to King Stephen, and Bishop of Wincheste7\) 
 " from a too partial respect for his uncle, when he paid that honor to 
 the remains of so many other more deserving personages. It may 
 be asked, why the tomb of Rufus was left to remain, after the bones 
 had been removed out of it ? The answer is, that this was the usual 
 practice on similar occasions. For we are to observe, the bones 
 only, and of these probably only the greater bones, were translated, 
 after they had been washed in wine and water. The other rem- 
 nants of mortality, with the clothes and ornaments, were usually 
 
NOTES TO THE RED KING. 217 
 
 left behind in the tombs. Hence we find the tombs of many saints, 
 or other illustrious personages, still remaining, after the bones had 
 been enshrined. In conformity with this account, we are informed, 
 that when the present royal tomb was violated by the rebels of the 
 last century, there was found in it the dust of the king, some pieces 
 of cloth embroidered with gold, a large gold ring, and a small silver 
 chalice." 
 
 " The third chest (these are ranged along the wall) contained 
 part of the remains of persons of verj- opposite stations and charac- 
 ters, the other part of them having been deposited in the correspond- 
 ing chest on the other side. These were the bones of Canute, the 
 great and good Danish king, and of his queen, the fair Maid of 
 Normandy, Emma, the special friend of this cathedral, of the tyran- 
 nical Rufus, of the good Bishop Alwyn, and of the simonaical pre- 
 lates Wina and Stigand. It appears that these remains, by some 
 means or other, had got so intermixed, from the time of De Blois, 
 that it was impossible to distinguish to whom they severally be- 
 longed. This circumstance alone can account for the manner of 
 their disposal by Bishop Fox, in these chests, as likewise for the 
 equal honour which is thereby paid to characters of very unequal 
 merits. The said chests having been, in part, violated by the rebels 
 in the great civil war, and part of the bones which they contained 
 having been taken out of them, and scattered about the church, 
 such of them as were recovered at the Restoration, were laid in the 
 two chests last mentioned." 
 
.• ♦ 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 Albe, although. 
 
 Bruit, noise, report. 
 Busket, {bosquet^ a thicket. 
 
 B. 
 
 Bale, evil, misfortune. 
 
 Banderol, the small flag at the end of 
 
 the lance. 
 Barded, a barded horse, a horse clothed 
 
 in defensive armour. 
 Benempt, named. 
 Bewray, to discover. 
 Bonnibelle, a flattering woman. Bonne 
 
 et belle. 
 Boon, gay, lively. 
 Bown, to prepare, to make ready. 
 Brack, a bitch-hound. 
 Brand, a sword. 
 Brangle, dispute. 
 
 Cark, trouble of mind, solicitude. 
 
 Carl, a churl. See Notes, p. 115. 
 
 Castellain, a lord of a castle. 
 
 Gates, provisions. 
 
 Cheer, air of the countenance, frame 
 of mind. ... 
 
 Child, a chivalric designation, answer- 
 ing to damoisel in French. It pro- 
 perly signifies a yoiing gentleman 
 not yet knighted. It is, however, 
 sometimes applied to a knight. 
 
 Christenty, Christendom. 
 
 Claret. See Notes to Canto First. 
 
 Clepe, to call, or name. 
 
 Clip, to embrace. 
 
 Clip, subs, an embrace. 
 
222 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Contrariom, opposite, repugnant to. 
 Could, (perf. can^ knew. 
 County, a count. 
 Craven, a coward. 
 
 hounds, in contradistinction to the 
 chasse a tirer, in which it was shot. 
 Foredone, fatigued, exhausted. 
 
 D. 
 
 G. 
 
 Daze, to dazzle. Garniture, ornament. 
 
 Dight, to prepare, dress, set in order. Gainsay, to deny, or controvert. 
 
 or arrange. 
 
 Dole, sorrow. Duil, Celtic, dolor, La- 
 tin. 
 
 Don, {do on,) put on. 
 
 Glaive, a sword. 
 
 Gonfainoun, the small flag worn at the 
 
 end of the lance. Gortfalone. 
 Grammary, magic. 
 Guerdon, reward. 
 
 Eld, old age. 
 Ensample, an example. 
 Eschew, to avoid. 
 Evanish, to vanish. 
 
 H. 
 
 Harbourage, lodging. 
 Hest, command. 
 Hight, called, named. 
 
 F. 
 
 Fay, a fairy. • - 
 
 Fay, faith. 
 
 Fay'iry, the art of fairery, also Fairy- 
 Land. 
 Force, to himt of force ; chasser d force, 
 
 I. 
 
 Jesse, orjesset, the string by which the 
 hawk was attached to the hand. 
 
 III. For guilt is ill to hide, for guilt 
 is difficult to hide. 
 
 to run down the quarry with the /owm^, a day's jomney. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 223 
 
 K. 
 
 M. 
 
 Keep, inner part of an ancient castle^ 
 
 occasionally used for the whole. 
 Kirtle, a sort of jacket. 
 Knave, in its general sense^ a servant. 
 
 L. 
 
 Lair, harbour of wild beasts, or rough 
 uncultivated ground. 
 
 Lai/, (according to Tyrwhitt,) a species 
 of serious narrative poetry, of a mo- 
 derate length, in a simple style, and 
 light metre. Lao^, Celtic. 
 
 Lay, law. 
 
 Lede, a rule. Approve this lede, prove 
 the truth of this rule. 
 
 Lelies, the Arabic war-cry. See Notes, 
 p. 173. 
 
 Leman, a mistress. 
 
 Lett, hindrance, impediment. 
 
 Lief, dear, beloved. 
 
 Liege, a sovereign, or lord, to whom 
 others were bound by feudal tenure. 
 
 Lordings, sirs, masters. 
 
 Lorn, lost, forsaken. Love-lorn, for- 
 saken of his love. 
 
 Losel, an infamous persion. 
 
 Lout, to bow. 
 
 Lusty, stout, vigorous, joyful. 
 
 Make, to meddle or interfere. 
 Maugre, in despite of. 
 May, a maid. 
 Meed, reward. 
 Meiny, attendansts. 
 Mickle, much, great. 
 Might. The drink of might, the drink 
 of power. 
 
 N. 
 
 Nathless, nevertheless. 
 
 O. 
 
 Owe, to own or possess. 
 Orfrays, embroidery. See Notes, p. 
 150. 
 
 Paragon, a pattern, a model. 
 Pardie, Par dieu. 
 Parfay (Parfoy), by my faith. 
 Parforce, of necessity. 
 Parlous, keen, facetious. 
 Pensil, vide Banderol. 
 
224 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Phantay, fancy. 
 
 Pigment. See Notes to Canto First. 
 
 Point device. Clad point device, clothed 
 
 exactly, or studiously. 
 Pranked, studiously adorned. 
 Prew, valiant, brave. 
 Prise, notes sounded at the taking of 
 
 the deer, Prise, French. 
 Purfted, embroidered. 
 
 Q. 
 
 Quaint, skilful, ingenious, subtle. 
 Quaintance, acquaintance. 
 Quarry, any thing chased. 
 Quest, search, search of adventure. 
 'Quest, inquest. 
 
 R. 
 
 Rack, small fleecy cloud. {Ranch, 
 
 smoke.) 
 Reck, to care, to heed. 
 Rede, advice. 
 Rote, conjectured to be a species of 
 
 hurdigurdy. 
 Rouncey, a horse of burden. 
 Ruth, pity. 
 
 S. 
 
 Sadness, sobriety, gravity. 
 
 Sarzin, Saracen. 
 
 'Sat/, for assay* 
 
 Scant, scantly, scarcely. 
 
 Scathe, loss, injury, damage. 
 
 Sell, a saddle. 
 
 Sendal, a species of thin silk. 
 
 Serried, closely compacted. 
 
 Shrift, confession. '^ 
 
 Shrive, to hear at confession. 
 
 Slot, the track or footsteps of the deer. 
 
 Sliocht, Celtic. 
 Solace, joy, satisfaction. Solas, joy, 
 
 Celtic, solatium, Latin. 
 Sore, (adverbially,) very much, intense- 
 
 Sprite, a spirit ; the spirit or soul. 
 
 Stiff, strong. 
 
 Stower, battle. 
 
 Suzerain, a feudal lord, possessing a 
 
 fief, under which other fiefs were 
 
 held. 
 
 . T. . 
 
 Tables, it should seem a game similar 
 
 to backgammon. 
 Tale. Passing tale, passing computation. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 225 
 
 ThraM, a captive, a slave. W. 
 
 Tiercelet, tiercelin, a species of falcon. 
 
 Trews, pantaloons or trowsers. Triu'ais, Wardress, warder, governor or lord of 
 
 Celtic. 
 limin, two. 
 
 The twain, the pair. 
 
 a castle. 
 Well, to flow. 
 Weft, a waft, or stray. 
 Wighty, strong. 
 Won, a dwellingt 
 Wray, to discover. 
 
 Y. 
 
 Vakt, a young prince or gentleman 
 not yet knighted. See Notes to Yerk, to kick. 
 Canto First. Ypight, fixt. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 ilfy great distance from the Press must be my excuse for the following Errata : 
 
 Page 48, line the 3d of the Note, for by, read of. 
 54, 6, for fenxit, read finxit. 
 
 120, 14, for aneel, read ancel. 
 
 18S, 10, for Dear-Leap, read Deer-Leap. 
 
 142, 12, for bosom, read presence. 
 
 173, last line, for Catharine, read Elizabeth. 
 
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