&W*' 
 
 V ..JA 
 
 Pij^r 
 
 -?v ;i -7/7* ^ 
 
 t' 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 It might naturally enough excite the surprise 
 of the intelligent reader, that in a professed re- 
 publication of popular poetry, nothing sltonld 
 occur upon a subject indisputably the most po- 
 pular of all the history of our renowned English 
 archer, ROBIN HOOD. Some apology is un- 
 doubtedly necessary on this head, as the omission 
 is by no means owing to ignorance or neglect. 
 In fact, the poems, ballads, an,d historical or 
 miscellaneous matter, in existence, relative to this 
 celebrated outlaw, are sufficient to furnish the 
 contents of even a couple of volumes considerably 
 bulkyer than the present ; and fully deserve to 
 appear in a separate publication, " unmix' d with 
 baser matter." 1 
 
 It would be no trifling gratification to the 
 editor of this little volume, and contribute m 
 some degree, he is persuaded, to the amusement 
 of even the literary part of the public, if the 
 present attempt should be productive of others of 
 a similar nature. Many of our old poems, which 
 would even now be of acknowledged excellence, 
 are scarcely known by name. Such, for instance, 
 are " The wife lapped in Morels skin, or The 
 taming of a shrew" 4< The high way to the spittle 
 house," " The schole house of women " " The un- 
 lucky firmentie" and some others; all or most of 
 which abound with a harmony, spirit, keenness, 
 and natural humour, little to be expected, perhaps, 
 in compositions of so remote a period, and which 
 
 1 Which they subsequently did. 
 
PREFACE. 9' 
 
 would by no means appear to have lost theii 
 relish. These pieces, indeed, are not only of 
 much greater length than, but of a very different 
 structure from, those in the following collection, 
 and evidently appear to have been written for the 
 press. The popularity of the two first is evinced 
 by their being mentioned by Laneham (or Lang- 
 ham), in his Letter signifying the Queenz entertain- 
 ment at Killingwoorth Castl, 1575. along with 
 several others, among which are some of those 
 here printed, as extant in the whimsical but 
 curious library of Captain Cox. a mason of 
 Coventry, who had " great oversight in matters ot 
 storie," and appears to have been a wonderful 
 admirer and collector of old poetry, romances, and 
 ballads. 
 
 It is not the editor's inclination to enter more at 
 large into the nature or merits of the poems he 
 has here collected. The originals have fallen in 
 his way on various occasions, and the pleasing 
 recollection of that happiest period of which most 
 of them were the familiar acquaintance, has in- 
 duced him to give them to the public wiih a 
 degree of elegance, fidelity and correctness, seldom 
 instanced in republications of greater importance. 1 
 Every poem is printed from the authority referee! 
 to, with no other intentional license than was 
 occasioned by the disuse of contractions, and a 
 regular systematical punctuation, or became neces- 
 
 1 The cuts in this edition are facsimiles o r those by 
 Bewick in the rare edition of 1791. 
 
[Collectanea atramatttaea.] 
 
 PIECES OF 
 ANCIENT POPULAR POETRY. 
 
Of this edition only 75 large-paper and 275 small-paper 
 copies are printed for subscribers. 
 
COLLECTANEA ADAMANT/EA.- V. 
 
 Ancient popular 
 
 PROM 
 
 AUTHENTIC MANUSCRIPTS 
 
 AND 
 
 OLD PRINTED COPIES. 
 
 tg 
 JOSEPH RITSON, 
 
 EDMUND GOLDSMID, F.R.H.S. 
 
 ADORNED WITH CUTS 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 PRIVATELY FEINTED. 
 
 EDINBURGH. 
 

 Maxell, Watson t & Vinev, United. London and Aylesbury. 
 
BNIVBRSITT 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 genius which has been successfully 
 exerted in contributing to the instruction 
 or amusement of society, in even the 
 rudest times, seems to have some claim upon its 
 gratitude for protection in more enlightened ones. 
 It is a superannuated domestic, whose passed 
 services entitle his old age to a comfortable 
 provision and retreat ; or rather, indeed, a 
 humble friend, whose attachment in adverse 
 circumstances demands the warm and grateful 
 acknowledgments of prosperity. The venerable 
 though nameless bards whom the generosity of 
 the public is now courted to rescue from oblivion 
 and obscurity, have been the favourites of the 
 people for ages, and could once boast a more 
 numerous train of applauding admirers than the 
 most celebrated of our modern poets. Their 
 compositions, it may be true, will have few charms 
 in the critical eye of a cultivated age ; but it 
 should always be remembered, that, without such 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 efforts, humble as they are, cultivation or refine- 
 ment would never exist, and barbarism and ignor- 
 ance be eternal. It is to an ENNIUS, perhaps, 
 that we are indebted for a VIRGIL, to such writers 
 as PEELE and GREENE, or others still more 
 obscure, that we owe the admirable dramas of our 
 divinest SHAKSPEARE ; and if we are ignorant 
 of the comparatively wretched attempts which 
 called forth the deservedly immortal powers of 
 HOMER or CHAUCER, it is by no means to be 
 infered that they were the earliest of poets, or 
 sprung into the world, as has been said of the 
 inimitable dramatist already mentioned, like 
 Minerva out -of the head of Jupiter, at full growth, 
 and mature. 
 
 Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona 
 Multi ; sed omnes illacrymabiles 
 Urgentur, ignotique longd 
 Nocte. 
 
 Any enquiry, it is presumed, after the authors 
 of these fugitive productions is at present im- 
 possible. It can only be conjectured that they 
 were written (or, more accurately speaking, 
 perhaps, imagined and committed to memory) 
 by men, who made it their profession to chant 
 or rehearse them, up and down the country, in 
 the trophyed hall or before the gloomy castle, 
 and at marriages, wakes and other festive meet- 
 ings, and who generally accompanyed their strains, 
 by no means ruder than the age kself, with the 
 tinkling of a harp, or sometimes, it is apprehended, 
 
PREFACE. 7 
 
 with the graces of a much humbler instrument. 
 It may, indeed, be conceived that they would now 
 and then be furnished with a superior performance 
 from the cloister or college ; as even the great sir 
 Thomas More has left us something of the same 
 kind l . But, however it was, they seem to have 
 been more attentive to temporary applause or 
 present emolument than to future fame, of which 
 they had possibly no idea, and, while they con- 
 signed their effusions to the casual protection of 
 an auditors memory, were totally indifferent 
 whether they were remembered or forgotten. The 
 consequence is that while we are indebted for 
 those which remain to accident and good fortune, 
 numbers have perished, not less, and possibly 
 even more, worthy of preservation. The reader 
 who wishes for further information concerning 
 this set of men may find his curiosity gratifyed by 
 consulting Dr. Percys very ingenious and elegant 
 *' Essay on the ancient English Minstrels," pre- 
 fixed to his " Reliques of ancient English Poetry" 
 and some " Observations " on the same character 
 in a collection of "Ancient Songs" published by 
 J. Johnson, in St. Pauls Church-yard 2 . 
 
 1 " A mery iest how a sergeaunt would learne to play 
 the frere. Written in hys youth (for his pastime)." Soe 
 his Workcs, 1557, and the " History of the English 
 language," prefixed to Dr. Johnsons Dictionary. 
 
 2 It is suspected, however, that the present copy of the 
 History of TOJU Thumb has been modernised by some 
 ballad-writer of Queen Elizabeths time ; very probably the 
 same Richard Johnson who afterward turned it into prose . 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 It might naturally enough excite the surprise 
 of the intelligent reader, that in a professed re- 
 publication of popular poetry, nothing should 
 occur upon a subject indisputably the most po- 
 pular of all the history of our renowned English 
 archer, ROBIN HOOD. Some apology is un- 
 doubtedly necessary on this head, as the omission 
 is by no means owing to ignorance or neglect. 
 In fact, the poems, ballads, an.d historical or 
 miscellaneous matter, in existence, relative to this 
 celebrated outlaw, are sufficient to furnish the 
 contents of even a couple of volumes considerably 
 bulkyer than the present ; and fully deserve to 
 appear in a separate publication, " unmix'd with 
 baser matter." 1 
 
 It would be no trifling gratification to the 
 editor of this little volume, and contribute m 
 some degree, he is persuaded, to the amusement 
 of even the literary part of the public, if the 
 present attempt should be productive of others of 
 a similar nature. Many of our old poems, which 
 would even now be of acknowledged excellence, 
 are scarcely known by name. Such, for instance, 
 are " The wife lapped in Morels skin, or The 
 taming of a shrew" f< The high way to the spittle 
 house" " The schole house of women" " The un- 
 lucky firmentiej' 1 and some others; all or most of 
 which abound with a harmony, spirit, keenness, 
 and natural humour, little to be expected, perhaps, 
 in compositions of so remote a period, and which 
 
 1 Which they subsequently did. 
 
PREFACE. 9' 
 
 would by no means appear to have lost theii 
 relish. These pieces, indeed, are not only of 
 much greater length than, but of a very different 
 structure from, those in the following collection, 
 and evidently appear to have been written for the 
 press. The popularity of the two first is evinced 
 by their being mentioned by Laneham (or Lang- 
 ham), in his Letter signifying the Queenz entertain- 
 ment at Killingwoorth Castl, 1575, along with 
 several others, among which are some of those 
 here printed, as extant in the whimsical but 
 curious library of Captain Cox. a mason of 
 Coventry, who had " great oversight in matters ot 
 storie," and appears to have been a wonderful 
 admirer and collector of old poetry, romances, and 
 ballads. 
 
 It is not the editor's inclination to enter more at 
 large into the nature or merits of the poems he 
 has here collected. The originals have faPen in 
 his way on various occasions, and the pleasing 
 recollection of that happiest period of which most 
 of them were the familiar acquaintance, has in- 
 duced him to give them to the public wiih a 
 degree of elegance, fidelity and correctness, seldom 
 instanced in republications of greater importance. 1 
 Every poem is printed from the authority referee! 
 to, with no other intentional license than was 
 occasioned by the disuse of contractions, and a 
 regular systematical punctuation, or became neces- 
 
 1 The cuts in this edition are facsimiles o f those by 
 Bewick in the rare edition of 1791. 
 
io PREFACE. 
 
 sary by the errors of the original, which are 
 generally, if not uniformly, noticed in the margin, 
 the emendation being at the same time distin- 
 guished in the text. Under these circumstances, 
 the impression is committed to the patronage of 
 the liberal and the candid, of those whom the 
 artificial refinements of modem taste have not 
 rendered totally insensible to the humble effusions 
 of unpolished nature, and the simplicity of old 
 times ; a description of readers, it is to be hoped, 
 sufficiently numerous to justify a wish that it may 
 never fall into the hands of any other. 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 ^. __ 
 
 ADAM BEL, CLYM OF THE CLOUGHE, AND 
 
 WYLLYAM OF CLOUDESLE . . .13 
 
 II. 
 
 A MERY GESTE OF THE FRERE AND THE 
 BOYE . : > . , . . 41 
 
 III. 
 THE KING AND THE BARKER ... 65 
 
ADAM BEL, 
 CLYM OF THE CLOUGHE, 
 
 AND 
 
 WYLLYAM OF CLOUDESLE. 
 
Tliis very ancient, curious, and popular per- 
 formance, apparently composed for the purpose of 
 being sung in public to the harp, is extant in an 
 old quarto, in black letter, without date, " Im- 
 printed at London in Lothburye by Wyllyam Cop- 
 land," and preserved among Mr* Carriers Old 
 Plays, now in the British Museum, whence it is 
 here given. This copy was made use of by Dr. 
 Percy, who has published the poem in his " Reliques 
 of Ancient English Poetry," * with some corrections 
 fortunately supplyed by another in his folio MS. 
 which may possibly account for the many different 
 readings between that publication and the present. 
 No early er edition than Copland's is known. It 
 was reprinted' in 1605 by James Roberts, along 
 with " The [second part" a very inferior and servile 
 production, of which there was, likewise, an edition 
 in 1616, with considerable variations. Both these 
 are in the Bodleian Library. 
 
 As there is no other memorial of these celebrated 
 archers than the following legend, to which all the 
 passages cited, from different authors, by the learned 
 editor already mentioned, are evident allusions, any 
 inquiry as to the time or reality of their existence 
 must be little else than the sport of imagination. 
 The passages refered to are, however, unquestion- 
 able proofs of the great popularity of the poem, 
 which in fact has gone through numberless editions ; 
 
 1 Volume I. p. 143. 
 
chiefly, it must be confessed, in the character of a 
 penny -history. 
 
 The " Englishe wood" mentioned in v. 16, &c. 
 is Englewood or Inglewood, an extensive forest in 
 Cumberland, which was sixteen miles in length, 
 and reached from Carlile to Penrith.* A similar 
 observation has been already made by Dr. Percy, 
 who adds, that " Engle or Ingle-wood signifies 
 wood for firing" But^vith submission to so gooa 
 a judge, it should rather seem, in the present in- 
 stance, to design a wood or forest in which extra- 
 ordinary fires were made on particular occasions ; 
 a conjecture which will appear the more plausi- 
 ble, when it is considered that the identical spot on 
 which Penrith beacon now stands, and where a 
 beacon has stood for ages, was formerly within the 
 limits of this very forest 2 ; and that Ingleborough, 
 one of "the highest hills between Scotland and 
 Trent," has obtained this name from the fires 
 anciently lighted in the beacon erected on its fiat 
 top, where the foundation is still visible. 
 
 " Clym of the C lough " is properly explained by 
 tJie above ingenious editor to mean Clem or Clement 
 of the Valley. " Clotidesle" of which the etymology 
 has not been hitherto attempted, may be thought to 
 signify a rocky pasture ; from clud, rupes, and 
 leag, pascuum. See Lye's Saxon Dictionary. 
 
 1 Edward the First, in hunting in this forest, is said 
 to have killed two hundred bucks in one day. See the 
 Additions to Cumberland, in Camdens Britannia, 1695. 
 
 2 Ibi. and Burns Cumberland, p. 396. 
 
MERY it was in grene forest, 
 Amonge the leues grene, 
 Wher that men walke east and west, 
 Wyth bowes and arrowes kene. 
 To ryse the deie out of theyr denne, 
 Such sightes hath ofte bene sene, 
 As by ' thre ' yemen of the north countrey, 
 By them it is I meane : 
 The one of them hight Adam Bel, 
 The other Clym of the Clough, ] 
 
 The thyrd was William of Cloudesly, 
 An archer good ynough. 
 They were outlawed for venyson, 
 
 V, 6. as hath. 
 
 V. 7. the. 
 
 V. 8. as I 
 2 
 
i8 ADAM BEL, ETC. 
 
 These yemen everechone ; 
 
 They swore them brethren upon a day, 1 5 
 
 To Englysshewood for to gone. 
 
 Now lith and lysten, gentylmen, 
 
 That of myrthes loveth to here : 
 
 Two of them were single men, 
 
 The third had a wedded fere ; 20 
 
 Wyllyam was the wedded man, 
 
 Muche more then was hys care, 
 
 He sayde to hys brethren upon a day, 
 
 To Caerlel he would fare. 
 
 For to speke with fayre Alse hys wife, 25 
 
 And with hys chyldren thre. 
 
 By my trouth, sayde Adam Bel, 
 
 Not by the counsell of me ; 
 
 For if ye go to Caerlel, brother, 
 
 And from thys wylde wode wende, 30 
 
 If the justice mai you take, 
 
 Your lyfe were at an ende. 
 
 If that I come not to morowe, brother, 
 
 By pryme to you agayne, 
 
 Truste not els but that I am take, 35 
 
 Or else that I am slayne. 
 
 He toke hys leaue of hys brethren two, 
 
 And to Caerlel he is gon, 
 
 There he knocked at hys owne windowe, 
 
 Shortlye and anone. 40 
 
 Where be you, fayre Alyce my wyfe ? 
 
 And my chyldren three ? 
 
 V. 1 8. And that. V. 41. your. 
 
ADAM BEL, ETC. 19 
 
 Lyghtly let in thyne owne husbande, 
 
 Wyllyam of Cloudesle. 
 
 Alas ! then sayde fayre Alyce, 45 
 
 And syghed wonderous sore, 
 
 Thys place hath ben besette for you, 
 
 Thys half yere and more. 
 
 Now am I here, sayde Cloudesle, 
 
 I would e that I in were ; 5 
 
 Now feche us meate and drynke ynoughe, 
 
 And let us make good chere. 
 
 She fetched hym meat and drynke plenty, 
 
 Lyke a true wedded wyfe, 
 
 And pleased hym wyth that she had, 55 
 
 Whome she loued as her lyfe. 
 
 There lay an old wyfe in that place, 
 
 A lytle besyde the fyre, 
 
 Whych Wyllyam had found of cherytye 
 
 More then seuen yere ; 60 
 
 Up she rose and walked full styll, 
 
 Euel mote she spede therefoore, 
 
 For she had not set no fote on ground 
 
 In seuen yere before. 
 
 She went vnto the justice hall, 65 
 
 As fast as she could hye ; 
 
 Thys nyght is come vnto this town 
 
 Wyllyam of Cloudesle. 
 
 Thereof the iustice was full fayne, 
 
 And so was the shirife also ; 70 
 
 Thou shalt not trauaile hether, dame, for nought, 
 
 Thy meed thou shalt haue or thou go. 
 
 V. 50. In woulde. V. 62. spende. V. 71. fore. 
 
 
>; ADAM BEL, ETC. 
 
 They gaue to her a ryght good goune, 
 
 Of scarlat it was as I heard ' sayne, ' 
 
 She toke the gyft and home she wente. 75 
 
 And couched her downe agayne. 
 
 They rysed the towne of mery Carlel, 
 
 In all the hast that they can, 
 
 And came thronging to Wyllyames house, 
 
 As fast as they myght gone. 80 
 
 Theyr they besette that good yeman, 
 
 Round about on euery syde, 
 
 Wyllyam heard e great noyse of folkes, 
 
 That heyther ward they hyed. 
 
 Alyce opened a * shot ' wyndow, 85 
 
 And loked all about, 
 
 She was ware of the justice and shirife bo the, 
 
 Wyth a full great route. 
 
 Alas ! treason ! cry'd Aleyce, 
 
 Euer wo may thou be ! 90 
 
 * Go' into my chambre, my husband, she sayd, 
 
 Swete Wyllyam of Cloudesle. 
 
 He toke hys sweard and hys bucler, 
 
 Hys bow and hy[s] chyldren thre, 
 
 And went into hys strongest chamber, 95 
 
 Where he thought surest to be. 
 
 Fayre Alice folowed him as a lover true, 
 
 With a pollaxe in her hande; 
 
 He shal be dead that here cometh in 
 
 Thys dore whyle I may stand. loo 
 
 V. 74. saye. Percy reads Of scarlate and of graine. 
 
 V. 85. shop. Percy reads back window. 
 
 V. 88. great full great. V. 91. Gy. 
 
ADAM BEL, ETC. 2 
 
 Cloudesle bent a wel good bovve, 
 
 That was of trusty tre, 
 
 He smot the justise on the brest, 
 
 That hys arrowe brest in thre. 
 
 Gods curse on his hartt, saide William, 105 
 
 Thys day thy cote dyd on, 
 
 If it had ben no better then myne, 
 
 It had gone nere thy bone. 
 
 Yelde the Cloudesle, sayd the justise, 
 
 And thy bo we and thy arrowes the fro. no 
 
 Gods curse on hys hart, sayde fair Alee, 
 
 That my husband councelleth so. 
 
 Set fyre on the house, saide the sherife, 
 
 Syth it wyll no better be, 
 
 And brenne we therin William, he saide, 1 1 5 
 
 Hys wyfe and chyldren thre. 
 
 They fyred the house in many a place, 
 
 The fyre flew vp on hye ; 
 
 Alas ! then cryed fayr Alice, 
 
 I se we here shall dy. 120 
 
 William openyd hys backe wyndow, 
 
 That was in hys chambre on hye, 
 
 And wyth shetes let hys wyfe downe, 
 
 And hys chyldren thre. 
 
 Have here my treasure, sayde William, 125 
 
 My wyfe and my chyldren thre, 
 
 For Christes loue do them no harme, 
 
 But wreke you all on me. 
 
 Wyllyam shot so wonderous well, 
 
 Tyll hys arrowes were all gon, 130 
 
 V. 122. was on 
 
2 ADAM BEL, ETC. 
 
 And the fyre so fast vpon hym fell, 
 
 That hys bowstryng brent in two. 
 
 The spercles brent and fell hym on, 
 
 Good Wyllyam of Cloudesle ! 
 
 But than wax he a wofull man, 135 
 
 And sayde, thys is a cowardes death to me, 
 
 Leuer I had, sayde Wyllyam, 
 
 With my sworde in the route to renne, 
 
 Then here among myne ennemyes wode, 
 
 Thus cruelly to bren. 140 
 
 He toke hys sweard and hys buckler, 
 
 And among them all he ran, 
 
 Where the people were most in prece, 
 
 He smot downe many a man. 
 
 There myght no man stand hys stroke, 145 
 
 So fersly on them he ran ; 
 
 Then they threw wyndowes and dores on him, 
 
 And so toke that good yeman. 
 
 There they hym bounde both hand and fote, 
 
 And in depe dongeon hym cast ; 150 
 
 Now, Cloudesle, sayd the hye justice, 
 
 Thou shalt be hanged in hast. 
 
 One vow shall I make, sayde the sherife. 
 
 A payre of new galowes shal I for the make, 
 
 And the gates of Caerlel shal be shutte, 155 
 
 There shall no man come in therat. 
 
 Then shall not helpe Clim of the Cloughe, 
 
 Nor yet shall Adam Bell, 
 
 Though they came with a thousand mo, 
 
 Nor all the deuels in hell. 160 
 
 Early in the mornyng the justice vprose, 
 
 To the gates first gan he gon, 
 
ADAM BEL, ETC. 23 
 
 And commaundede to be shut full cloce 
 
 Lightile everychone. 
 
 Then went he to the market place, 165 
 
 As fast as he coulde hye, 
 
 A payre of new gallous there dyd he vp set, 
 
 Besyde the pyllory. 
 
 A lytle boy stod them amonge, 
 
 And asked what meaned that gallow tre ; 1 70 
 
 They sayde, to hange a good yeaman, 
 
 Called Wyllyam of Cloudesle. 
 
 That lytle boye was the towne swyne heard, 
 
 And kept ' fayre ' Alyce swyne, 
 
 Oft he had scene Cloudesle in the wodde, 175 
 
 And geuen hym there to dyne. 
 
 He went out att a creues in the wall, 
 
 And lightly to the wood dyd gone, 
 
 There met he with these wight yonge men, 
 
 Shortly and anone. 1 80 
 
 Alas ! then sayde that lytle boye, 
 
 Ye tary here all to longe ; 
 
 Cloudesle is taken and dampned to death, 
 
 All readye for to honge. 
 
 Alas ! then sayde good Adam Bell, 185 
 
 That ever we see thys daye ! 
 
 He myght her with vs have dwelled, 
 
 So ofte as we dyd him praye ! 
 
 He myght have taryed in grene foreste, 
 
 Under the shadowes sheene, 190 
 
 And have kepte both hym and vs in reaste, 
 
 Out of trouble and teene ! 
 
 V\ 174. there. 
 
24 ADAM BEL, ETC. 
 
 Adam bent a ryght good bow, 
 
 A great hart sone had he slayne, 
 
 Take that, chylde, he sayde to thy dynner, 195 
 
 And bryng me myne arrowe agayne. 
 
 Now go we hence, sayed these wight yong men, 
 
 Tary we no lenger here ; 
 
 We shall hym borowe, by gods grace, 
 
 Though we bye it full dere. 200 
 
 To Caerlel went these good yemen, 
 
 On a mery mornyng of Maye. 
 
 Here is a fyt of Cloudesli, 
 
 And another is for to saye. 
 
 r 
 
 [THE SECOND FIT.] 
 
 AND when they came to mery Caerlell, 
 In a fayre mornyng tyde, 206 
 
 They founde the gates shut them vntyll, 
 Round about on euery syde. 
 Alas ! than sayd good Adam Bell, 
 That euer we were made men ! 210 
 
 These gates be shut so wonderous wel, 
 That we may not come here in. 
 Then spake him Clym of the Clough, 
 Wyth a wyle we wyl vs in bryng ; 
 Let vs saye we be messengers, 215 
 
 Streyght come nowe from our king. 
 
 V. 201. Cyerlel. 
 
ADAM BEL, ETC. 25 
 
 Adam said, I haue a letter written wel, 
 
 Now let us wysely werke, 
 
 We wyl saye we haue the kinges scales, 
 
 I holde the portter no clerke. 220 
 
 Then Adam Bell bete on the gate, 
 
 With strokes great and strong, 
 
 The porter herde such noyse therat, 
 
 And to the gate he throng. 
 
 Who is there nowe, sayde the porter, 225 
 
 That maketh all thys knocking ? 
 
 W r e be tow messengers, sayde dim of the Clough, 
 
 Be come ryght from our kyng. 
 
 We haue a letter, sayd Adam Bel, 
 
 To the justice we must it bryng ; 230 
 
 Let vs in our messag to do, 
 
 That we were agayne to our kyng. 
 
 Here commeth none in, sayd the porter, 
 
 By hym that dyed vpon a tre, 
 
 Tyll a false thefe be hanged, 235 
 
 Called Wyllyam of Cloudesle. 
 
 Then spake the good yeman Clym of the Clough. 
 
 And swore by Mary fre, 
 
 And if that we stande longe wythout, 
 
 Lyke a thefe hanged shalt thou be. 240 
 
 Lo here we haue the kynges scale ; 
 
 What ! lordeyne, art thou wode ? 
 
 The porter went it had ben so, 
 
 And lyghtly dyd of hys node. 
 
 Welcome be my lordes scale, he saide, 245 
 
 For that ye shall come in. 
 
 V. 230. me. 
 
26 ADAM BEL, ETC. 
 
 He opened the gate full shortlye, 
 
 An euyl openyng for him. 
 
 Now are we in, sayde Adam Bell. 
 
 Thereof we are full faine, 250 
 
 But Christ knowjs], that harowed hell, 
 
 How we shall com out agayne. 
 
 Had we the keys, said Clim of the Clough, 
 
 Ryght vvel then shoulde we spede ; 
 
 Then might we come out wel ynough, 255 
 
 When we se tyme and nede. 
 
 They called the porter to counsell, 
 
 And wrange hys necke in two, 
 
 And caste him in a depe dongeon, 
 
 And toke hys keys hym fro. 260 
 
 Now am I porter, sayde Adam Bel, 
 
 Se brother the keys haue we here, 
 
 The worst porter to merry Caerlel, 
 
 That ye had thys hundred yere : 
 
 And now wyll we our bowes bend, 265 
 
 Into the towne wyll we go, 
 
 For to delyuer our dere brother, 
 
 That lyueth in care and wo. 
 
 They bent theyr bowes, 
 
 And loked theyr stringes were round, 270 
 
 The market place in mery Caerlel, 
 
 They beset that stound ; 
 
 And as they loked them besyde, 
 
 A paire of new galowes ther thei see, 
 
 And the justice with a quest of squyers, 275 
 
 That had judged Cloudesle there hanged to be : 
 
 V. 254. shaulde. V. 275. they. 
 
ADAM BEL, ETC. 27 
 
 And Cloudesle hymselfe lay redy in a carte, 
 
 Fast both fote and hand, 
 
 And a stronge rop about hys necke, 
 
 All readye for to hange. 280 
 
 The justice called to him a ladde, 
 
 Cloudesle clothes should he haue, 
 
 To take the measure of that yeman, 
 
 And therafter to make hys graue. 
 
 I have seen as great a mearveile, said Cloudesli, 
 
 As betwyene thys and pryme, 
 
 He that maketh thys graue for me, 
 
 Himselfe may lye therin. 
 
 Thou speakest proudli, saide the justice, 
 
 I shall the hange with my hande : 290 
 
 Full wel herd hys brethren two, 
 
 There styll as they dyd stande. 
 
 Then Cloudesle cast hys eyen asyde, 
 
 And saw hys to brethren, 
 
 At a corner of the market place, 295 
 
 With theyr good bows bent in ther hand, 
 
 Redy the justice for to chaimce. 
 
 I se comfort, sayd Cloudesle, 
 
 Yet hope I well to fare ; 
 
 If I might haue my handes at wyll, 
 
 Ryght lytle wolde I care. 300 
 
 Then spake good Adam Bell, 
 
 To Clym of the Clough so free, 
 
 Brother, se ye marke the justyce wel, 
 
 Lo yonder ye may him see ; 
 
 V. 293. Claudesle. V. 294. brcthen. 
 
 V. 295. marked. V. 298. will. 
 
28 ADAM BEL, ETC. 
 
 And at the shyr[i]fe shote I wyll, 305 
 
 Strongly with arrowe kene, 
 
 A better shote in mery Caerlel 
 
 Thys seuen yere was not sene. 
 
 They lowsed ' their ' arrowes both at once, 
 
 Of no man had * they ' dread, 310 
 
 The one hyt the justice, the other the sheryfe, 
 
 That both theyr ' sides ' gan blede. 
 
 All men voyded that them stode nye, 
 
 When the justice fell downe to the ground e, 
 
 And the sherife fell nyghe hym by, 315 
 
 Eyther had his deathes wounde. 
 
 All the citezens fast gan flye, 
 
 They durst no longer abyde, 
 
 They lyghtly ' then ' loused Cloudesle, 
 
 Where he with ropes lay tyde. 320 
 
 Wyllyam sterte to an officer of the towne, 
 
 Hys axe out of hys hande he wronge, 
 
 On eche syde he smote them downe, 
 
 Hym thought he taryed all to long. 
 
 Wyllyam sayde to hys brethren two, 325 
 
 Thys daye let us lyue and dye, 
 
 If euer you have nede as I haue now, 
 
 The same shall you fynde by me. 
 
 They shot so well in that tyde, 
 
 For theyr stringes were of silke ful sure, 330 
 
 That they kept the stretes on euery * side ! ' 
 
 That batayle dyd longe endure. 
 
 The[y] fought together as brethren tru, 
 
 V. 309. thre. V. 312. sedes. V. 319. they, 
 
 V. 325. brethen. V. 331. sede. 
 
ADAM BEL, ETC. 29 
 
 Lyke hardy men and bolde, 
 
 Many a man to the ground they thrue, 335 
 
 And many a herte made colde. 
 
 But when their arrowes were all gon, 
 
 Men preced to them full fast, 
 
 They drew theyr swordes then anone, 
 
 And theyr bovves from them cast. 340 
 
 They went lyghtlye on theyr way, 
 
 Wyth swordes and buclers round, 
 
 By that it * was ' myd of the day, 
 
 They made mani a wound. 
 
 There was an out home in Caerlel blowen, 345 
 
 And the belles bacward did ryng ; 
 
 Many a woman sayd alas ! 
 
 And many theyr handes dyd wryng. 
 
 The may re of Caerlel forth com was, 
 
 And with hym a ful great route, 350 
 
 These yemen dred him full sore, 
 
 For of theyr lyues they stode in great doute. 
 
 The mayre came armed a full great pace, 
 
 With a pollaxe in hys hande, 
 
 Many a strong man wyth him was, 355 
 
 There in that stowre to stande. 
 
 The mayre smot at Cloudlesle with his bil, 
 
 Hys bucler he brust in two, 
 
 Full many a yeman with great euyll, 
 
 Alas ! treason ! they cryed for wo. 360 
 
 Kepe we the gates fast they bad, 
 
 That these traytours thereout not go. 
 
 But al for nought was that the[y] wrought, 
 
 V. 336. made many a herte. V. 343. mas. 
 
30 ADAM BEL, ETC. 
 
 For ' so ' fast they downe were layde, 
 
 Tyll they all thre, that so manfulli fought, 365 
 
 Were gotten without abraide. 
 
 Haue here your keys, sayd Adam Bel, 
 
 Myne off[i]ce I here forsake, 
 
 Yf you do by my councell, 
 
 A new porter do * ye ' make. 370 
 
 He threw theyr keys at theyr heads, 
 
 And bad them euell to thryue, 
 
 And all that letteth any good yeman 
 
 To come and comfort hys wyfe. 
 
 Thus be these good yemen gon to the wod, 375 
 
 And lyghtly as ' lefe ' on lynde, 
 
 The[y] lough an[d] be mery in theyr mode, 
 
 Theyr ennemyes were fer[r]e behynd. 
 
 When they came to Englyshe wode, 
 
 Under a trusty tre, 380 
 
 They found bowes full good, 
 
 And arrowes full great plentye. 
 
 So god me help, s[a]yd Adam Bell, 
 
 And Clym of the Clough so fre, 
 
 I would we were in mery Caerlel, 385 
 
 Before that fayre meyny. 
 
 They set them downe and made good chere, 
 
 And eate and drynke full well. 
 
 Here is a fet of these wyght yong men, 
 
 An other I wyll you tell. 390 
 
 V. 364* to. V. 368, 369. misplaced in the old edition, 
 y. 370. we. V. 376. left. 
 
ADAM BEL, ETC. 3* 
 
 [THE THIRD F!T.] 
 
 AS they sat in Englyshe wood 
 Under theyr trusty tre, 
 They thought they herd a woman wepe, 
 But her they mought not se. 
 Sore then syghed the fayre Alyce, 395 
 
 And sayde, alas ! that euer I sawe thys daye ! 
 For now is my dere husband slayne, 
 Alas ! and wel a way ! 
 
 Myght I have spoken wyth hys dere brethren, 
 Or with eyther of them twayne, 400 
 
 [To let them know what him befell] 
 My hart were put out of payne ! 
 Cloudesle walked a lytle besyde, 
 And loked vnder the grenewood linde, 
 He was ware of hys wife and chyldren thre, 405 
 Full wo in hart and mynde. 
 Welcome wife, then sayde Wyllyam, 
 Under ' this ' trusti tre ; 
 I had wende yesterday, by swete saynt John, 
 Thou shulde me never * have ' se. 410 
 
 Now well is me, she sayde, that ye be here, 
 My hart is out of wo. 
 Dame, he sayde, be mery and glad, 
 And thanke my brethren two. 
 
 V. 393. thaught. V. 399, 414. brethen. 
 
 V. 401. siipplyedfrom a modern edition. 
 V. 408. thus. V. oo, had. 
 
32 AD A At BEL, ETC. 
 
 Hereof to speake, sayd Adam Bell, 415 
 
 I wis it is no bote ; 
 
 The meat that we must supp withall 
 
 It runneth yet fast on fote. 
 
 Then went they clown into a launde, 
 
 These noble archares all thre, 420 
 
 Eche of them slew a hart of greece. 
 
 The best they could there se. 
 
 Haue here the best, Al[y]ce my wyfe, 
 
 Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudesle, 
 
 By cause ye so bouldly stod by me, 425 
 
 When I was slayne full nye. 
 
 Then went they to supper, 
 
 Wyth suche meat as they had, 
 
 And thanked god of ther fortune, 
 
 They were both mery and glad. 430 
 
 And when they had supped well, 
 
 Certayne without any leace, 
 
 Cloudesle sayd, we wyll to our kyng, 
 
 To get vs a charter of peace ; 
 
 Alee shal be at our soiournyng, 435 
 
 In a nunry here besycle, 
 
 My tow sonnes shall wyth her go, 
 
 And ther they shall abyde : 
 
 Myne eldest son shall go wyth me, 
 
 For hym haue I no care, 440 
 
 And he shall you breng worde agayn 
 
 How that we do fare. 
 
 Thus be these yemen to London gone, 
 
 As fast as they might hye, 
 
 V. 421. graece. V. 427. whent. 
 
ADAM BEL, ETC. 33 
 
 Tyll they came to the kynges pallace, 445 
 
 Where they woulde nedes be. 
 
 And whan they came to the kynges courte, 
 
 Unto the pallace gate, 
 
 Of no man wold they aske no leave, 
 
 But boldly went in therat ; 450 
 
 They preced prestly into the hall, 
 
 Of no man had they dreade, 
 
 The porter came after and dyd them call, 
 
 And with them began to chyde. 
 
 The ussher sayed, yemen, what wold ye haue ? 
 
 I pray you tell me ; 456 
 
 You myght thus make offycers shent : 
 
 Good syrs of whence be ye ? 
 
 Syr we be out lawes of the forest, 
 
 Certayne without any leace, 460 
 
 And hether we be come to our kyng, 
 
 To get vs a charter of peace. 
 
 And whan they came before the kyng, 
 
 As it was the lawe of the lande, 
 
 The[y] kneled downe without lettyng, 465 
 
 And eche helde vp his hand. 
 
 The[y] sayed, lord we beseche the here, 
 
 That ye wyll graunt vs grace, 
 
 For we haue slaine your fat falow dcr, 
 
 In many a sondry place. 47 
 
 What be your nam[e]s ? than said our king, 
 
 Anone that you tell me. 
 
 They sayd, Adam Bel, dim of the Clough, 
 
 And Wyllyam of Cloudesle. 
 
 Be ye those theues, then sayd our kyng, 475 
 
 That men haue tolde of to me ? 
 
34 ADAM BEL, ETC. 
 
 Here to god I make a vowe, 
 
 Ye shal be hanged al thre ; 
 
 Ye shal be dead without mercy, 
 
 As I am kynge of this lande. 480 
 
 He commanded his officers everichone 
 
 Fast on them to lay hand. 
 
 There they toke these good yemen, 
 
 And arested them all'thre. 
 
 So may I thryue, sayd Adam Bell, 485 
 
 Thys game lyketh not me. 
 
 But, good lorde, we beseche you now, 
 
 That you graunt vs grace, 
 
 Insomuche as we be to you comen, 
 
 Or els that we may fro you passe, 490 
 
 With suche weapons as we haue here, 
 
 Till we be out of your place ; 
 
 And yf we lyue this hundreth yere, 
 
 We wyll aske you no grace. 
 
 Ye speake proudly, sayd the kynge, 495 
 
 Ye shal be hanged all thre. 
 
 That were great pitye, then sayd the quene, 
 
 If any grace myght be. 
 
 My lorde, whan I came fyrst into this lande, 
 
 To be your wedded wyfe, 500 
 
 The fyrst bowne that I wold aske, 
 
 Ye would graunt it me belyfe ; 
 
 And I asked neuer none tyll now, 
 
 Therefore, good lorde, graunt it me. 
 
 Now aske it, madam, sayd the kynge, 505 
 
 And graunted shall it be. 
 
 Then, good my lord, I you beseche, 
 
 These yemen graunt ye me. 
 
ADAM BEL, ETC. J 
 
 Madame, ye myght have asked a bowne, 
 
 That shuld have ben worth them all three : 510 
 
 Ye myght have asked towres and townefs], 
 
 Parkes and forestes plenty. 
 
 None soe pleasaunt to mi pay, she said, 
 
 Nor none so lefe to me. 
 
 Madame, sith it is your desyre, 515 
 
 Your askyng graunted shal be ; 
 
 But I had leuer have geuen you 
 
 Good market townes thre. 
 
 The quene was a glad woman, 
 
 And sayd, lord, gramarcy, 520 
 
 I dare undertake for them 
 
 That true men shal they be. 
 
 But, good lord, speke som mery word, 
 
 That comfort they may se. 
 
 I graunt you grace, then said our king, 525 
 
 Wasshe, felos, and to meate go ye. 
 
 They had not setten but a whyle, 
 
 Certayne without lesynge, 
 
 There came messengers out of the north, 
 
 With letters to our kyng. 530 
 
 And whan the came before the kynge, 
 
 They kneled downe vpon theyr kne, 
 
 And sayd, lord, your offycers grete you wel, 
 
 Of Caerlel in the north cuntre. 
 
 How fare my justice, sayd the kyng, 535 
 
 And my sherife also ? 
 
 Syr, they be slayne, without leasynge, 
 
 And many an officer mo. 
 
 Who hath them slayne ? sayd the kyng, 
 
 Anone thou tell me. 540 
 
6 A-DAM BEL, E7C. 
 
 Adam Bel, and Clime of the Clough, 
 
 And Wyllyam of Cloudesle. 
 
 Alas ! for rewth ! then sayd our kynge, 
 
 My hart is wonderous sore, 
 
 I had leuer [th]an a thousand pound e, 545 
 
 I had knowne of thys before ; 
 
 For I have graunted them grace, 
 
 And that forthynketh me, 
 
 But had I knowne all thys before, 
 
 They had been hanged all thre. 550 
 
 The kyng opened the letter anone, 
 
 Hymselfe he red it thro, 
 
 And founde how these thre outlawes had slaine 
 
 Thre hundred men and mo ; 
 
 Fyrst the justice and the sheryfe, 555 
 
 And the mayre of Caerlel towne, 
 
 Of all the constables and catchipolles 
 
 Alyue were left not one ; 
 
 The baylyes and the bedyls both, 
 
 And the sergeauntes of the law, 560 
 
 And forty fosters of the fe, 
 
 These out! awes had yslaw ; 
 
 And broke his parks, and slaine his dere, 
 
 Ouer all they chose the best, 
 
 So perelous out lawes as they were, 565 
 
 Walked not by easte nor west. 
 
 When the kynge this letter had red, 
 
 In hys harte he syghed sore, 
 
 Take vp the table anone he bad, 
 
 For I may eate no more. 570 
 
 The kyng called hys best archars, 
 
 To the buttes wyth hym to go ; 
 
ADAM BL< ETC. 37 
 
 I wyll se these felowes shote, he sayd, 
 
 In the north haue wrought this wo. 
 
 The kynges bowmen buske them blyue, 575 
 
 And the queues archers also, 
 
 So dyd these thre wyght yemen, 
 
 With them they thought to go. 
 
 There twyse or thryse they shote about, 
 
 For to assay theyr hande, 580 
 
 There was no shote these yemen shot, 
 
 That any prycke myght them stand. 
 
 Then spake Wyllyam of Cloud esle, 
 
 By him that for me dyed, 
 
 I hold hym neuer no good archar 585 
 
 That shuteth at buttes so wyde. 
 
 Wherat ? then sayd our kyng, 
 
 I pray thee tell me. 
 
 At suche a but, syr, he sayd, 
 
 As men vse in my countree. 590 
 
 Wyllyam went into a fyeld, 
 
 And his to brethren with him, 
 
 There they set vp to hasell roddes, 
 
 Twenty score paces betwene. 
 
 I hold him an archar, said Cloudesle, 595 
 
 That yonder wande cleueth in two. 
 
 Here is none suche, sayd the kyng, 
 
 Nor none that can so do. 
 
 I shall assaye, syr, sayd Cloudesle, 
 
 Or that I farther go. 600 
 
 Cloudesly, with a bearyng arow, 
 
 Claue the wand in to. 
 
 V. 587. At what a butte now wold y shot. Reliques. 
 
3 8 ADAM BEL, ETC. 
 
 Thou art the best archer, then said the king, 
 
 Forsothe that euer I se. 
 
 And yet for your loue, sayd Wylliam, 605 
 
 I wyll do more maystry : 
 
 I haue a sonne is seuen yere olde, 
 
 He is to me full deare, 
 
 I wyll hynt tye to a stake, 
 
 All shall se that be here, 610 
 
 And lay an apele vpon hys head, 
 
 And go syxe score paces hym fro, 
 
 And I myselfe, with a brode arow* 
 
 Shall cleue the apple in two. 
 
 Now haste the, then sayd the kyng, 615 
 
 By that dyed on a tre, 
 
 But yf thou do not as thou * hast ' sayde, 
 
 Hanged shalt thou be. 
 
 And thou touche his head or gowne, 
 
 In syght that men may se, 620 
 
 By all the sayntes that be in heaven, 
 
 I shall hange you all thre. 
 
 That I haue promised, said William, 
 
 I wyl it neuer forsake, 
 
 And there euen before the kynge, 625 
 
 In the earth he droue a stake, 
 
 And bound therto his eldest sonne, 
 
 And bad hym stande styll therat, 
 
 And turned the childes face fro him, 
 
 Because he shuld not sterte ; 630 
 
 An apple vpon his head he set, 
 
 And then his bowe he bent, 
 
 V. 617. hest. 
 
ADAM BEL, ETC. 39 
 
 Syxe score paces they were out met, 
 
 And thether Cloudesle went ; 
 
 There he drew out a fayr brode arrowe, 635 
 
 Hys bowe was great and longe, 
 
 He set that arrowe in his bowe, 
 
 That was both styffe and stronge ; 
 
 He prayed the people that was there, 
 
 That they would styll stande, 640 
 
 For he that shooteth for such a wager, 
 
 Behoueth a stedfast hand. 
 
 Muche people prayed for Cloudesle, 
 
 That hys lyfe saued myght be, 
 
 And whan he made hym redy to shote, 645 
 
 There was many a weping eye. 
 
 Thus Cloudesle clefte the apple in two, 
 
 That many a man myght se ; l 
 
 Ouer gods forbode, sayde the kinge, 
 
 That thou shote at me ! 650 
 
 I geve the xviii. pence a day, 
 
 And my bowe shalt thou beare, 
 
 And ouer all the north countre, 
 
 I make the chyfe rydere. 
 
 And I geve the xvii. pence a day, said the quene, 
 
 By god and by my fay, 656 
 
 Come feche thy payment when thou wylt, 
 
 No man shall say the nay. 
 
 Wyllyam, I make the a gentelman, 
 
 V. 648, Percy, instead of this line, reads 
 His sonne he did not nee. 
 
 1 The legend of William Tel! in an English garb. 
 
40 ADAM BEL, ETC. 
 
 Of clothyng and offe, 660 
 
 And tin two brethren yemen of my chambre, 
 
 For they are so semely to se ; 
 
 Your sonne, for he is tendre of age, 
 
 Of my wyne seller shall he be, 
 
 And whan he commeth to mannes estate, 665 
 
 Better auaunced shall he be. 
 
 And, Wylliam, bring me your wife, said the quene, 
 
 Me longeth her sore to se, 
 
 She shal be my chefe gentelwoman, 
 
 To gouerne my nursery. 670 
 
 The yemen thanketh them full curteously, 
 
 And sayde, to some bysshop wyl we wend, 
 
 Of all the synnes that we have done 
 
 To be assoyld at his hand. 
 
 So forth be gone these good yemen, 675 
 
 As fast as they myght hye, 
 
 And after came and dwelled wyth the kynge, 
 
 And dyed good men all thre. 
 
 Thus endeth the liues of these good yemen, 
 
 God send them eternall blysse ! 680 
 
 And all that with hande bo we shoteth, 
 
 That of heauen may neuer mysse ! 
 
A 
 
 MERY GESTE 
 
 OP 
 
 THE FRERE AND THE BOYE. 
 
This well-known tale is furnished, in its present 
 dress, by a copy in the public library of the univer- 
 sity of Cambridge, " Enprynted at London in Flete 
 strete at the sygne of the sonne by Wynkyn de 
 Worde;" compared with a later edition in the 
 Bodleian library ', " Imprinted at London at the 
 long shop adioyning vnto Saint Mildreds Church 
 in the Pultrie by Edwarde Aide ; " both in quarto 
 and black letter, and of singular rarity, no dupli- 
 cate of either being known to exist* There is, in- 
 deed, a very old, though at the same time a most 
 vulgar and corrupted copy extant in the first of 
 those libraries (MSS. More, Ee. 4. 35.) under the 
 title of " The Cheylde and hes step-dame" of which, 
 besides that almost every line exhibits a various 
 reading, the concluding stanzas are entirely dif- 
 ferent, and have, on that account, been thought 
 worth preserving. But the most ancient copy of all 
 would probably have been one in the Cotton library, 
 if the volume which contained it had not unfortu- 
 nately perished, with many things of greater im- 
 portance, in the dreadful fire which happened in 
 that noble repository, anno 1731. Vide Smiths 
 Catalogue, Vitellius D. XII. 
 
 1 There was once a. copy of one or other of the above 
 editions, or some different impression^ with divers other 
 curious pieces ; in the printed library of Anthony a Wood 
 (No. 66) ; but the article, with others of the like nature, 
 appears to have been clandestinely taken out. 
 
From the mention made in v. 429 of the city of 
 " Orlyauncc," and the character of the " Offycyal" 
 it may be conjectured that this poem is of French 
 extraction ; and, indeed, it is not at all improbable 
 that the original is extant in some collection of old 
 Fabliaux. A punishment similar to that of the 
 good wife in this story appears to have been inflicted 
 on the widow of a St. Gengulph.for presuming to 
 question the reality of her husbands miracles. See 
 Heyivoods History of Women, p. 196. 
 
 The cut prefixed is an exact copy of one in the 
 title of the most ancient edition, which, the present 
 editor has a melancholy pleasure in reflecting, was 
 traced for this purpose by his learned, ingenioiis> 
 and valuable friend^ the late John Baynes esquire. 
 

GOD that dyed for vs all, 
 And dranke both eysell and gall, 
 Brynge vs out of bale, 
 And gyue them good lyfe and longe 
 That lysteneth to my songe, 
 Or tendeth to my tale. 
 There dwelled an husbonde in my countre 
 That had wyues thre, 
 By processe of tyme, 
 By the fyrst wyfe a sone he had, 
 That was a good sturdy ladde, 
 And an happy hyne. 
 His fader loued hym wele, 
 So dyde his moder neuer a dele, 
 
 IO 
 
46 THE FRERE 
 
 I tell you as I thinke ; 15 
 
 All she thought was lost, by the rode, 
 
 That dyde the lytell boye ony good, 
 
 Other mete or drynke. 
 
 And yet y wys it was but badde, 
 
 And therof not halfe ynough he had, 20 
 
 But euermore of the worste : 
 
 Therfore euyll mote she fare, 
 
 For euer she dyde the lytell boye care, 
 
 As ferforth as she dorste. 
 
 The good wyfe to her husbonde gan saye, 25 
 
 I wolde ye wolde put this boye awaye, 
 
 And that ryght soone in haste ; 
 
 Truly he is a cursed ladde, 
 
 I wolde some other man hym had, 
 
 That wolde hym better chaste. 30 
 
 Then sayd the good man agayne, 
 
 Dame, I shall do the sayne, 
 
 He is but tender of age ; 
 
 He shall abyde with me this yere, 
 
 Tyll he be more strongere, 35 
 
 For to wynne better wage. 
 
 We haue a man, a stoute freke, 
 
 That in the felde kepeth our nete, 
 
 Slepynge all the daye, 
 
 He shall come home, so god me shelde, 40 
 
 And the boye shall into the felde, 
 
 To kepe our beestes yf he may. 
 
 Than sayd the wyfe, verament, 
 
 Therto soone I assent, 
 
 For that me thynketh moost nedy. 45 
 
 On the morowe whan it was daye, 
 
AND THE BO YE, 47 
 
 The lytell boye wente on his waye, 
 
 To the felde full redy ; 
 
 Of no man he had no care, 
 
 But wing, hey howe, awaye the mare, 1 5 
 
 And made ioye ynough ; 
 
 Forth he wente, truly to sayne, 
 
 Tyll he came to the playne, 
 
 Hys dyner forth he drough : 
 
 Whan he sawe it was but bad, 55 
 
 Ful lytell lust therto he had, 
 
 But put it vp agayne ; 
 
 Therfore he was not to wyte, 
 
 He sayd he wolde etc but lyte, 
 
 Tyll nyght that he home came, 60 
 
 And as the boye sate on a hyll, 
 
 An olde man came hym tyll, 
 
 Walkynge by the waye ; 
 
 Sone, he sayde, god the se, 
 
 Syr, welcome mote ye be, 65 
 
 The lytell boye gan saye. 
 
 The olde man sayd, I am an hongred sore, 
 
 Hast thou ony mete in store, 
 
 That thou mayst gyue me ? 
 
 The chyld sayd, so god me saue, 7 
 
 To such vytayle as I haue 
 
 Welcome shall ye be, 
 
 1 This seems to have been the beginning or title of some 
 old ballad. May sir es Jyll of Brentford takes notice of it 
 in her " Testament." ^to. b. I. 
 
 " Ah syrra, mary a way the mare." 
 V. 60. came home. De W. 
 
48 THE FRERE 
 
 Therof the olde man was gladde, 
 
 The boye drewe forth suche as he hue!, 
 
 And sayd, do gladly. 75 
 
 The olde man was easy to please, 
 
 He etc and made hym well at ease, 
 
 And sayd, sone, gramercy. 
 
 Sone, thou haste gyuen mete to me, 
 
 I shall the gyue thynges thre, 80 
 
 Thou shalt them neuer forgete. 
 
 Than sayd the boye, as I trowe, 
 
 It is best that I haue a bowe, 
 
 Byrdesfor to 'shete.' 
 
 A bowe, sone, I shall the gyue, 85 
 
 That shall last the all thy lyue, 
 
 And euer a lyke mete, 
 
 Shote therin whan thou good thynke, 
 
 For yf thou shote and wynke, 
 
 The prycke thow shake hytte. 90 
 
 Whan he the bowe in honde felte, 
 
 And the boltes vnder his belte, 
 
 Lowde than he lough ; 
 
 He sayd, now had I a pype, 
 
 Though it were neuer so lyte, 95 
 
 Than were I gladde ynough. 
 
 A pype, sone, thou shalte haue also, 
 
 In true musyke it shall go, 
 
 I put thee out of doubt ; 
 
 All that may the pype here 100 
 
 Shall not themselfe stere, 
 
 V. 84. shote. De W. shoote. A. 
 V. 99. I do the well to wyte. De W. 
 
AND THE BOYE. 49 
 
 But laugh and lepe aboute. 
 
 What shall the thyrde be? 
 
 For I wyll gyue the gyftes three, 
 
 As I haue sayd before. 105 
 
 The lytell boye on hyrn lough, 
 
 And sayd, syr, I haue ynough, 
 
 I wyll desyre no more. 
 
 The olde man sayd, my trouth I ptyght, 
 
 Thou shalte haue that I the hyght ; no 
 
 Say on now and let me se. 
 
 Than sayd the boye anone, 
 
 I haue a stepdame at home, 
 
 She is a shrewe to me : 
 
 Whan my fader gyueth me mete, 1 1 5 
 
 She wolde theron that I were cheke, 
 
 And stareth me in the face ; 
 
 Whan she loketh on me so, 
 
 I wolde she sholde let a rappe go, 
 
 That it myght rynge ouer all the place. 120 
 
 Than sayd the olde man tho, 
 
 Whan she loketh on the so 
 
 She shall begyn to blowe ; 
 
 All that euer it may here 
 
 Shall not themselfe stere, 125 
 
 But laugh on a rowe. 
 
 Farewell, quod the olde man, 
 
 God kepe the, sayd the chylde than, 
 
 I take my leue at the ; 
 
 God, that moost best may, 130 
 
 Kepe the bothe nyght and day. 
 
 V. 105. to the before. Idem. 
 
 4 
 
50 THE FRERE 
 
 Gramercy, sone, sayd he. 
 
 Than drewe it towarde the nyght, 
 
 lacke hym hyed home full ryght, 
 
 It was his ordynaunce ; 135 
 
 He toke his pype and began to blowe, 
 
 All his beestes on a rowe, 
 
 Aboute hym they can daunce. 
 
 Thus wente he pypynge thrugh the towne, 
 
 His beestes hym folowed by the sowne, 140 
 
 Into his faders close ; 
 
 He wente and put them vp echone, 
 
 Home ward e he wente anone, 
 
 Into his faders hall he gose. 
 
 His fader at his souper sat, 145 
 
 Lytell lacke espyed well that, 
 
 And sayd to hym anone, 
 
 Fader, I haue kepte your nete, 
 
 I praye you gyue me some mete, 
 
 I am an hongred, by Saynt Ihone : 150 
 
 I have sytten metelesse 
 
 All this daye kepynge your beestes, 
 
 My dyner feble it was. 
 
 His fader toke a capons wynge, 
 
 And at the boye he gan it flynge, 155 
 
 And badde hym etc apace. 
 
 That greued his stepmoders herte sore, 
 
 As I tolde you before, 
 
 She stared hym in the face, 
 
 With that she let go a blaste, 1 60 
 
 That they in the hall were agaste, 
 
 It range ouer all the place. 
 
 All they laughed and had good game, 
 
AND THE BO YE. 51 
 
 The wyfe waxed red for shame, 
 
 She wolde that she had ben gone. 165 
 
 Quod the boye, well I wote, 
 
 That gonne was well shote, 
 
 As it had ben a stone. 
 
 Cursedly she loked on hym tho, 
 
 Another blaste she let go, 170 
 
 She was almoost rente. 
 
 Quod the boye, wyll ye se 
 
 How my dame letteth pellettes fle, 
 
 In fayth or euer she stynte ? 
 
 The boye sayde vnto his dame, 175 
 
 Tempre thy bombe, he sayd, for shame : 
 
 She was full of sorowe. 
 
 Dame, sayd the good man. go thy waye, 
 
 For I swere to the by my faye, 
 
 Thy gere is not to borowe. 180 
 
 Afterwarde as ye shall here, 
 
 To the hous there came a frere, 
 
 To lye there all nyght ; 
 
 The wyfe loued him as a saynt, 
 
 And to hym made her complaynt, 185 
 
 And tolde hym all aryght : 
 
 Wee haue a boye within ywys, 
 
 A shrewe for the nones he is, 
 
 He dooth me moche care ; 
 
 I dare not loke hym vpon, 190 
 
 I am ashamed, by Saynt lohn, 
 
 To tell you how I fare : 
 
 V. 1 3 6. So A. and MS. all omitted in De IV. 
 
52 THE FRERE 
 
 I praye you mete the boy tomorowe, 
 
 Bete hym well and gyue hym sorowe, 
 
 And make the boye lame. 195 
 
 Quod the frere, I shall hym bete. 
 
 Quod the wyfe, do not forgete, 
 
 He dooth me moche shame : 
 
 I trowe the boye be some wytche. 
 
 Quod the frere, I shall hym teche, 200 
 
 Haue thou no care ; 
 
 I shall hym teche yf I may. 
 
 Quod the wyfe, I the praye, 
 
 Do hym not spare. 
 
 On the morowe the boye arose, 205 
 
 Into the felde soone he gose, 
 
 His beestes for to dryue ; 
 
 The frere ranne out at the gate, 
 
 He was a ferde leest he came to late, 
 
 He ranne fast and blyue. 2IO 
 
 Whan he came vpon the londe, 
 
 Lytell lacke there he fonde, 
 
 Dryuynge his beestes all alone ; 
 
 Boye, he sayd, god gyue the shame, 
 
 What hast thou done to thy dame? 215 
 
 Tell thou me anone : 
 
 But yf thou canst excuse the well, 
 
 By my trouth bete the I wyll, 
 
 I wyll no lenger abyde. 
 
 Quod the boye, what eyleth the ? 22O 
 
 My dame fareth as well as ye, 
 
 What nedeth ye to chyde ? 
 
 V. 211. So A. and MS. a londe. De W. 
 
AND THE BO YE. 53 
 
 Quod the boye, wyll ye wete 
 
 How I can a byrde shete, 
 
 And other thynge withall ? 225 
 
 Syr, he sayd, though I be lyte, 
 
 Yonder byrde wyll I smyte, 
 
 And gyue her the I shall. 
 
 There sate a byrcle vpon a brere, 
 
 Shote on boy, quod the frere, 230 
 
 For that me lysteth to se. 
 
 He hytte the byrde on the heed, 
 
 That she fell downe deed, 
 
 No ferder myght she flee. 
 
 The frere to the busshe wcnte, 235 
 
 Vp the byrde for to hente, 
 
 He thought it best for to done. 
 
 lacke toke his pype and began to blovve. 
 
 Then the frere, as I trowe, 
 
 Began to daunce soone ; 240 
 
 As soone as he the pype herd, 
 
 Lyke a wood man he fared, 
 
 He lepte and daunced aboute ; 
 
 The breres scratched hym in the face, 
 
 And in many an other place, 245 
 
 That the blode brast out ; 
 
 And tare his clothes by and by, 
 
 His cope and his scapelary, 
 
 And all his other wede. 
 
 He daunced amonge thornes thycke, 250 
 
 In many places they dyde hym prycke, 
 
 That fast gan he blede. 
 
 lacke pyped and laughed amonge, 
 
 The frere amonge the thornes was thronge, 
 
54 THE FRERE 
 
 He hopped wunders hye ; 255 
 
 At the last he held vp his honde, 
 
 And sayd I haue daunced so longe, 
 
 That I am lyke to dye ; 
 
 Gentyll lacke, holde thy pype styll, 
 
 And my trouth I plyght the tyll, 260 
 
 I will do the no woo. 
 
 lacke sayd, in that tide, 
 
 Frere skyppe out on the ferder syde, 
 
 Lyghtly that thou were goo. 
 
 The frere out of the busshe wente, 265 
 
 All to ragged and to rente, 
 
 And torne on euery syde ; 
 
 Unnethes on hym he had one cloute, 
 
 His bely for to wrappe aboute ; 
 
 His harneys for to hyde. 270 
 
 The breres had hym scratched so in the face, 
 
 And [in] many an other place, 
 
 He was all to bledde with blode ; 
 
 All that myght the frere se, 
 
 Were fayne awaye to flee, 275 
 
 They wende he had ben wode. 
 
 Whan he came to his hoost, 
 
 Of his iourney he made no boost, 
 
 His clothes were rente all ; 
 
 Moche sorowe in his herte he had, 280 
 
 And euery man hym dradde, 
 
 Whan he came in to the hall. 
 
 A hoppyd wonderley hey ; 
 
 The boy seyde, and lowhc with all, 
 
 Thes ys a sport reyall. 
 
 For a lord to se. MS. More. 
 
AND THE BO YE. 55 
 
 The wyfe sayd, where hast thou bene ? 
 
 In an euyll place I wene, 
 
 Me thynketh by thyn araye. 285 
 
 Dame, I haue ben with thy sone, 
 
 The deuyll of hell hym ouercome, 
 
 For no man elles may. 
 
 With that came in the good man, 290 
 
 The wife sayd to hym than, 
 
 Here is a foule araye ; 
 
 Thy sone that is the lefe and uere, 
 
 Hath almoost slayne this holy frere, 
 
 Alas ! and welawaye ! 295 
 
 The good man sayd. bcncdicite! 
 
 What hath the boye done freie to the? 
 
 Tell me without lette. 
 
 The frere sayd, the deuyll hym spede, 
 
 He hath made me daunce. maugre my hede, 
 
 Amonge the thornes, hey go bette. 1 301 
 
 The good man sayd to hym tho, 
 
 Haddest thou lost thy lyfe so, 
 
 It had ben grete synne. 
 
 The frere sayd, by our lady, 305 
 
 The pype went so meryly, 
 
 That I coude neuer blynne. 
 
 Whan it drewe towarde the nyght, 
 
 The boye came home full ryght, 
 
 As he was wont to do ; 310 
 
 Whan he came into the hall, 
 
 1 TJte name, it is probable^ of some old dance. To 
 "dance hey %o mad" is still a common expression in the 
 
56 THE FRERE 
 
 Soone his fader gan hym call, 
 
 And badde hym to come hym to. 
 
 Boye, he sayd, tell me here, 
 
 What hast thou done to the frere? 315 
 
 Tell me without lesynge. 
 
 Fader, he sayd, by my faye, 
 
 I dyde nought elles, as I you saye, 
 
 But pyped him a sprynge. 
 
 That pype, sayd his fader, wolde I here. 320 
 
 Mary, god forbede ! sayd the frere ; 
 
 His handes he dyde wrynge. 
 
 Yes, sayd the good man, by goddes grace. 
 
 Then, sayd the frere, out alas ! 
 
 And made grete mournynge. 325 
 
 For the loue of god, quod the frere, 
 
 If ye wyll that pype here, 
 
 Bynde me to a post ; 
 
 For I knowe none other rede, 
 
 And I daunce I am but deed, 330 
 
 Well I wote my lyfe is lost. 
 
 Stronge ropes they toke in honde, 
 
 The frere to the poste they bonde, 
 
 In the myddle of the halle ; 
 
 All that at the souper sat 335 
 
 Laughed and had good game therat, 
 
 And said the frere wolde not fall. 
 
 Than sayd the good man, 
 
 Pype sonne, as thou can, 
 
 V. 312. His fader dyde hym soone call. De W. 
 
 V. 327. that he pype. De W. 
 
 V. 339. Pype on good sone. Idem. 
 
AND THE BOYE. 57 
 
 Hardely whan thou wylle. 340 
 
 Fader, he sayd, so mote I the, 
 
 Haue ye shall ynough of gle, 
 
 Tyll ye bydde me be styll, 
 
 As soon as lacke the pype hent, 
 
 All that there were verament, 345 
 
 Began to daunce and lepe ; 
 
 Whan they gan the pype here, 
 
 They myght not themselfe stere, 
 
 But hurled on an hepe. 
 
 The good man was in no dyspayre, 350 
 
 But lyghtly lepte out of his chayre, 
 
 All with a good chere ; 
 
 Some lepte ouer the stocke, 
 
 Some stombled at the blocke, 
 
 And some fell flatte in the fyre. 355 
 
 The good man had grete game, 
 
 How they daunced all in same ; 
 
 The good wyfe after gan steppe, 
 
 Euermore she kest her eye at lacke, 
 
 And fast her tayle began to cracke, 360 
 
 Lowder than they coude speke. 
 
 The frere hymselfe was almoost lost, 
 
 For knockynge his heed ayenst the post, 
 
 He had none other grace ; 
 
 The rope rubbed hym vnder the chynne, 365 
 
 That the blode downe dyde rynne, 
 
 In many a dyuers place. 
 
 lacke ranne into the strete, 
 
 After hym fast dyde they lepe, 
 
 V. 361. Lowde. De W. 
 
58 THE FRERE 
 
 Truly they coude not stynte ; 370 
 
 They wente out at the dore so thycke, 
 
 That eche man fell on others necke, 
 
 So pretely out they wente. 
 
 Neyghbours that were fast by, 
 
 Herde the pype go so meryly, 375 
 
 They ranne into the gate ; 
 
 Some lepte oner the hatche, 
 
 They had no time to drawe the latche, 
 
 They wende they had come to late. 
 
 Some laye in theyr bedde, 380 
 
 And helde vp theyr hede, 
 
 Anone they were waked ; 
 
 Some sterte in the waye, 
 
 Truly as I you saye, 
 
 Stark bely naked. 385 
 
 By that they were gadred aboute, 
 
 I wys there was a grete route, 
 
 Dauncynge in the strete ; 
 
 Some were lame and myght not go, 
 
 But yet ywys they daunced to, 390 
 
 On handes and on fete. 
 
 The boye sayd, now wyll I rest. 
 
 Quod the good man, I holde it best, 
 
 With a mery chere ; 
 
 Sease, sone, whan thou wylte, 395 
 
 In fayth this is the meryest fytte 
 
 That I herde this seuen yere. 
 
 They daunced all in same, 
 
 Some laughed and had good game, 
 
 V. 392. They. W. 
 
AND THE BO YE. 59 
 
 And some had many a fall. 400 
 
 Thou cursed boye, quod the frere, 
 
 Here I somon the that thou appere 
 
 Before the offycyall ; 
 
 Loke thou be there on Frydaye, 
 
 I wyll the mete and I may, 405 
 
 For to ordeyne the sorowe. 
 
 The boye sayd, by god auowe, 
 
 Frere, I am as redy as thou, 
 
 And Frydaye were to morowe. 
 
 Frydaye came as ye may here, 410 
 
 lackes stepdame and the frere 
 
 Togeder there they mette ; 
 
 Folke gadered a grete pase, 
 
 To here euery mannes case, 
 
 The ofTycyall was sette. 415 
 
 There was moche to do, 
 
 Maters more than one or two, 
 
 Both with preest and clerke ; 
 
 Some had testamentes for to preue, 
 
 And fayre women, by your leue, 420 
 
 That had strokes in the derke. 
 
 Euery man put forth his case, 
 
 Then came forth frere Top; as, 
 
 And lackes stepdame also ; 
 
 Syr offycyall, sayd he, 425 
 
 I haue brought a boye to thee, 
 
 Which hath wrought me moche wo ; 
 
 He is a grete nygromancere, 
 
 V. 402, 403. Y som* the aflfor the comserey. MS. 
 V. 423. Than cam soret capias. MS. 
 
60 THE FRERE 
 
 In all Orlyaunce is not his pere, 
 
 As by my trouth I trowe. 430 
 
 He is a wytche, quod the wyfe : 
 
 Than, as I shall tell you blythe, 
 
 Lowde coude she blowe. 
 
 Some laughed without fayle, 
 
 Some sayd, dame, tempre thy tayle, 435 
 
 Ye wreste it all amysse. 
 
 Dame, quod the offycyall, 
 
 Tel forth on thy tale, 
 
 Lette not for this. 
 
 The wyfe was afrayed of an other cracke, 440 
 
 That no worde more she spacke, 
 
 She durst not for drede. 
 
 The frere sayd, so mote I the, 
 
 Knaue. this is long of the 
 
 That euyl mote thou spede. 445 
 
 The frere sayd, syr offycyall, 
 
 The boye wyll combre vs all, 
 
 But yf ye may him chaste ; 
 
 Syr, he hath a pype truly, 
 
 Wyll make you daunce and lepe on hye, 450 
 
 Tyll your herte braste. 
 
 The offycyall sayd, so mot I the, 
 
 That pype wolde I fayne se, 
 
 V. 432. blyue. A. 
 V. 453, That pype well y se, 
 &>c. He seyde, boy, hes het her? 
 Ye seer, be mey ffay, 
 Anon pype ws a lay, 
 And make vs all cher. 
 The offeciall the pype hent, 
 And blow tell his brow hen bent, 
 
AND THE BO YE. 61 
 
 And knowe what myrth that he can make. 
 
 Mary, god forbede, than sayd the frere, 455 
 
 That he sholde pype here, 
 
 Afore that I hens the waye take. 
 
 Pype on, lacke, sayd the offycyall, 
 
 I wyll here now how thou canst playe. 
 
 lacke blewe vp, the sothe to saye, 460 
 
 And made them soone to daunce all. 
 
 The offycyall lepte ouer the deske, 
 
 And daunced aboute wonder faste, 
 
 Tyll bothe his shynnes he all to brest, 
 
 Bot therof cam no gle ; 
 
 The offeciall seyde, this ys nowth, 
 
 Be god that me der bowthe, 
 
 Het ys not worthe a sclo. 
 
 Be mey fay, qod the freyr, 
 
 The boy can make het pype cler, 
 
 Y bescro hem for hes mede. 
 
 The offeciall bad the boy a say. 
 
 Nay, qod the freyr, er that a way, 
 
 For that y for bede. 
 
 Pype on, qod the offeciall, and not spar. 
 
 The freyr began to star, 
 
 Jake hes pype hent, 
 
 As sone as Gake began to blow, 
 
 All they lepyd on a rowe, 
 
 And ronde abowt they went. 
 
 The offeciall had so gret hast, 
 
 That boyt hes schenys brast, 
 
 A pon a blokys hende. 
 
 The clerkys to dans they hem sped, 
 
 And som all ther eynke sched, 
 
 And som ther bekes rent, 
 
 And som cast ther boky[s] at the wall, 
 
 And som ouer ther felowys can fall, 
 
 So weytley they lepyd. 
 
 Ther was withowt let, 
 
62 THE FRERE 
 
 Hym thought it was not of the best, 465 
 
 Than cryed he vnto the chylde, 
 
 To pype no more within this place, 
 
 But to holde styll for goddes grace, 
 
 And for the loue of Mary mylde. 
 
 Than sayd lacke to them echone, 470 
 
 If ye wolde me graunte with herte fre, 
 
 That he shall do me no vylany, 
 
 But hens to departe euen as I come. 
 
 Therto they answered all anone, 
 
 And promysed him anone ryght, 475 
 
 They stombylled on a hepe, 
 They dansed all a bowthe, 
 And yever the freyr creyd owt, 
 Y may no lengger dans for soyt, 
 Y hiffe lost halffe mey cod war, 
 When y dansed yn the thornes. 
 Som to crey they began, 
 Mey boke ys all to toren ; 
 Som creyd withowt let, 
 And som bad hoo ; 
 Som seyde het was a god game^ 
 And som seyde they wer lame, 
 Y may no leynger skeppe ; 
 Som dansed so long, 
 Tell they helde owt the townge, 
 And a nethe meyt hepe. 
 The ofieciall began to star, 
 And seyde, hafe for they heyr, 
 Stent of they lay, 
 And boldeley haske of me, 
 "What thou welt hafe for thy glej 
 Y schall the redey pay. 
 Then to stend Jake began, 
 The offeciall was a werey man, 
 Mey trowet y pleyt y the, 
 Thes was a god gle, 
 
AND THE BO YE. 63 
 
 In his quarell for to fyght, 
 
 And deiende hym from his fone, 
 
 Thus they departed in that tyde, 
 
 The offycyall and the sompnere, 
 
 His stepdame and the frere, 
 
 With great ioye and moche pryde. 480 
 
 And seyde the worst that euer they se, 
 
 For het was er neyth. 
 
 Then bespake the offeciall, 
 
 And leytley Gake can call, 
 
 Hes pype he hem hent, 
 
 And gaffe hem xx s. 
 
 And euer mor hes blesyng, 
 
 For that merey set. 
 
 When Gake had that money hent, 
 
 Anon homard he went, 
 
 Glad therof was he ; 
 
 He waxed a wordeley marchande, 
 
 A man of gret degre. 
 
 Hes stepdame, y dar say, 
 
 Dorst neuer after that day, 
 
 Nat wonley ones desplese. 
 
 They lowyd togedyr all thre, 
 
 Hes father, hes stepdame and he, 
 
 Affter yn gret eys. 
 
 And that they ded, soyt to say, 
 
 Tho hewyn they tooke the way, 
 
 Withowtyn eney mes. 
 
 Now god that dyed for os all, 
 
 And dranke aysell and gall, 
 
 Bryng them all to they bles, 
 
 That beleuet on the name Jhc. 
 
THE KING 
 
 THE BARKER. 
 
The following equally rude and ancient piece is 
 given from the manuscript volume in the public 
 library, Cambridge, already described. It is the 
 undoubted original of tl the merry, pleasant, and 
 delectable history between K. Edward the fourth 
 and a tanner of Tamworth" reprinted by Dr. 
 Percy ; who ought, perhaps, to have informed his 
 readers that the old copies contain a great many 
 stanzas which he has, not injudiciously, suppressed. 
 
 Dantre is Daventry (vulgarly pronounced Dain- 
 try), in Warwickshire. 
 
 The writer of the manuscript should seem to 
 have been some provincial rustic. In one place of 
 the volume he enters the following saw, which 
 appeared worth preserving, for the sake of its singu- 
 larity. 
 
 Ther ys leythe reythe and meythe, 
 Meythe ouerset reythe for the defawte of leythe, 
 Bot and reythe methe com to leythe, 
 Scholder neuer meythe ouerset reythe. 
 
WELL yow her a god horde to make yow 
 'alllawhe?' 
 
 How het fell apon a tyme, or eney man het know, 
 The kyng rod a hontyng as that tyme was, 
 For to hont a der y trow hes hope was. 
 As he rode he houertoke yn the \vey 5 
 
 A tannar of Dantre yn a queynte a raye ; 
 Blake kow heydys sat he apon, 
 The hornys heyng besyde, 
 The kyng low and had god game, 
 To se the tannar reyde. IO 
 
 Howr kyng bad hes men abeyde, 
 And he welde sper of hem the wey ; 
 
 V. i. lawhe all. 
 
68 THE KING AND 
 
 Yffe y may her eney new tythyng 
 
 Y schall het to yow saye. 
 
 Howr kyng prekyd, and seyde, ser, god and saffe. 15 
 
 The tannar seyde, well mot yow ffar. 
 
 God felow, seyde * howr ' kyng, off on thyng y the 
 
 pray, 
 
 To Dray ton Baset well y reyde, wyche ys the wey? 
 That can y tell the fro hens that y stonde. 
 When thow comest to the galow tre torne vpon the 
 
 lyft honde. 20 
 
 Gramercy, felow, seyde owr kyng, withowtyn eney 
 
 'wone,' 
 
 I schall prey they lord Baset thanke the sone. 
 God felow, seyde owr kyng, reyde thou with me, 
 Tell y com to Drayton Baset, now y het se. 
 Nay be ' mey feyt ' seyde the barker thoo, 25 
 Thow may sey y wer a fole and y dyd so ; 
 I hast yn mey wey as well as thow hast yn theyne, 
 Reyde forthe and seke they wey, thi hors ys better 
 
 nar meyne. 
 
 The tannar seyde, what maner man ar ye ? 
 A preker abowt, seyd the kyng, yn maney a centre. 30 
 Than spake the thanner, foil scredely ayen, 
 Y had a brother vowsed the same 
 Tull he cowde never the. 
 Than * howr ' kyng smotley gan smeyle, 
 Y prey the felow reyde with me a meyle. 35 
 What devell, quod the tannar, art thou owt off they 
 
 wet? 
 
 V. 13. now. V. i/.yowr. 
 
 V. 21. woyt. J^. 25. raeyt, V, 34. yowr. 
 
THE BARKER. 69 
 
 Y most horn to mey deyner, for I am fastyng yet. 
 Good felow, seyde owr kyng, car the not for no 
 
 mete, 
 Thou schalt haffe mete ynow to neyzt, and yeffe 
 
 thou welt ette. 
 
 The tanner toke gret skorne of hem, 40 
 
 And swar be creyst ys pyne, 
 Y trow y hafe mor money in mey pors 
 Nar thow hast yn theyne : 
 Wenest thow y well be owt on neyzt? nay, and 
 
 god be for, 
 
 Was y neuer owt a neyt sen y was bor. 45 
 
 The tanner lokyd a bake tho, 
 The heydes began to fall, 
 He was war of the keyngs men, 
 Wher they cam reydyng all. 
 
 Thes ys a theffe, thowt the tanner, 50 
 
 Y prey to god geffe hem car, 
 He well haffe mey hors, 
 Mey heydes, and all mey chaffar. 
 For feleyschepe, seyde the tannar, 
 Yet wel y reyde with the ; 55 
 
 Y not war y methe with the afterward 
 Thow mast do as meche for me. 
 God a mar[sey], seyde owr kyng, withowt eny 
 
 wone, 
 
 Y schall prey the lord Baset to thanke the sone. 
 Owr keyng seyde, what new tydyng herest as thou 
 
 ryd? 60 
 
 I wolde fayne wet for thow reydest weyde. 
 
 y. 60. now. 
 
70 THE KING AND 
 
 Y know now teytheyng, the thanner seyde, kerhe 
 
 and thou schalt here, 
 
 Off al the chaffar that y know kovv heydys beyt der. 
 Owr keyng seyde. on theyng, as mey loffe y the prey, 
 What herest seybe the lord Basetynthes con trey? 65 
 I know hem not, seyde the tanner, with hem y hafe 
 
 lytyll to don, 
 Wolde he neuer bey of me clot lether to clowt ' his 
 
 schoyn.' 
 Howr kyng seyde, y loffe the well, of on thyng y 
 
 the praye, 
 Thow hast harde hes servants speke, what welde 
 
 they saye ? 
 
 Ye for god, seyde the tanner, that tell y can, 70 
 Thay sey thay leke hem well, for he ys a god man. 
 Thos they reyd together talkyng, for soyt y yow 
 
 tell, 
 
 Tull he met the lord Baset, on kneys downe they fell. 
 Alas, the thanner thowt, the kyng ylone thes be, 
 Y schall be hongyd. well y wot, at men may me se. 75 
 He had no meynde of hes hode, nor cape ner adell, 
 Al for drede off hes leyffe he wende to halfe ler. 
 The thanner wolde astole awey, 
 Whyle he began to speke, 
 
 Howr kyng had yever an ey on hem, 80 
 
 That he meyt not skape. 
 God felow, with me thow most abeyde, seyd owr 
 
 For thow and y most an hontyng reyde. 
 
 V. 67. with schoys. 
 
THE DARKER. 71 
 
 Whan they com to Kyngchasmeche game they saye. 
 Howr kyng seyde, felow what schall y do, my hors 
 
 ys so hey ? 85 
 
 God felow, lend thow me theyne, and hafe her 
 
 meyne. 
 Tho the tannar leyt done, and cast a downe hes 
 
 heydys ; 
 Howr kyng was yn hes sadell, no leyngger he 
 
 beydes. 
 Alas, theyn the thanner thowt, he well reyde away 
 
 with mey hors, 
 
 Y well after to get hem and y may. 90 
 
 He welde not leffe hes heydys beheynde for 
 
 notheyng, 
 He cast them yn the kyngs schadyll, that was a 
 
 neys seyte ; 
 
 Tho he sat aboffe them, as y ouw saye, 
 He prekyd fast after hem and fond the redey wey. 
 The hors lokyd abowt hem, and sey on euery 
 
 seyde 95 
 
 The kow homes blake and wheyte ; 
 The hors went he had bor the deuell on hes bake ; 
 The hors prekyd as he was wode, 
 Het mestoret to spor hem not ; 
 The barker cleynt on hem fast, 100 
 
 He was for a ferde for to fall, 
 The kyng lowhe, and was glad to folow the chas, 
 ' Yette' he was agast lest the tanner welde ber hem 
 
 downe. 
 
 V. 103. Yeffe. 
 
72 THE KING AND 
 
 The hors sped hem sweythyli, he sped hem wonder- 
 ley fast, 
 
 Ayen a bow of a noke the thanneres had he barst, 105 
 With a stombellyng as he rode the thanner downe 
 
 he cast ; 
 The kyng lowhe, and had god game, and seyde 
 
 thou reydyst to fast. 
 The kyng lowhe, and had god game, and swar be 
 
 sent John, 
 
 Seche another horsman say y neuer none. 
 Owr kyng lowhe, and had god bord, and swar be 
 
 sent 'Jame,' no 
 
 Y most nedyst lawhe and thow wer mey dame. 
 Y be scro the same son, seyde the barker tho, 
 That seche a bord welde haffe to se hes dame so 
 
 wo. 
 When ' ther ' hontyng was ydo, they changyd hors 
 
 agen, 
 Tho the barker had hes howyn, theyrof he was 
 
 'fayne.' 115 
 
 Godamarsey, seyd our kyng, of they serueyse to 
 
 daye, 
 Yeffe thow hafe awt to do with me, or owt to 
 
 saye, 
 They frende schall y yeffor be, be god that vs bet 
 
 on. 
 Godamarsey, seyde the barker tho, thow semyst a 
 
 felow god, 
 Yeffe y met the yn Dantre thou schalt dreynke be 
 
 [the] rode. 120 
 
 ^' IIO Jane. V. 114. her. V. 115. of fayne. 
 
THE BARKER. 73 
 
 Be mey feyt, seyde owr kyng, or els wer y to 
 
 blame ; 
 Yeff y met the yn Lecheffelde thou schalt hafe the 
 
 same. 
 
 Thus they rod talkyng togeder to Drayton hall, 
 Tho the barker toke hes leffe of the lordes all. 
 Owr kyng comand the barker yn that tyde, 125 
 A C. s. 1 yn hes pors to mend hes kow heydys. 
 Ther owr kyng and the barker partyd feyr a twyn 
 God that set yn heffen so hey breyng os owt of sen ! 
 
 1 i e ioo shillings. 
 
Haztll, Watson, & Viney, Limited, London and Avtesbutv. 
 
[Collectanea 
 
 PIECES OF 
 ANCIENT POPULAR POETRY. 
 
Of this edition only 75 large-paper and 275 small-paper 
 copies are printed for subscribers. 
 
COLLECTANEA ADAMANTdEA VI, 
 
 Ancient popular 
 
 FROM 
 
 AUTHENTIC MANUSCRIPTS 
 
 AND 
 
 OLD PRINTED COPIES. 
 
 OKrttetr tg 
 JOSEPH RITSON, 
 
 EDMUND GOLDSMID, F.R.H.S. 
 
 ADORNED WITH CUTS, 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED. 
 
 EDINBURGH. 
 
 1884. 
 
Hazell, Watson, & Jitney, Limited, London and Aylesbury, 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. II. 
 
 i. 
 
 Page 
 
 HOW A MERCHANDE DYD HIS WYFE BE- 
 TRAY ' I 
 
 II. 
 HOW THE WISE MAN TAUGHT HIS SON . 13 
 
 III. 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF TOM THUMBE . 23 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE LOVERS' QUARREL : OR, CUPID'S 
 
 TRIUMPH ...... 42 
 
 GLOSSARY . . . / . . -63 
 
HOW A MERCHANDE DYD 
 HYS WYFE BETRAY. 
 
The story of this ancient poem seems to have 
 appeared in all possible shapes. It is contained in 
 a tract intitled "Penny-wise, pound-foolish; or 
 a Bristow diamond, set in two rings, and both 
 cracked. Profitable for married men, pleasant for 
 young men, and a rare example for all good 
 women" London, 1631. 4/0. b.l. and is well 
 known, at least in the North, by the old ballad 
 called "The Pennyivorth of Wit" It likeivise 
 appears, from Langham^s Letter, 1575, to have 
 been then in print, under the title of ' * The Chap- 
 man of a Pennyworth of Wit ;" though no edition 
 of that age is now known to exist. The following copy 
 is from a transcript made by the late Mr. Baynes 
 from one of Bp. Morels manuscripts in the public 
 library at Cambridge (Ff. 2. 38, or 690), written 
 apparently about the reign of Edivard the fourth 
 or Richard the third ; carefully but unnecessarily 
 examined ivith the original. The poem itself how- 
 ever is indisputably of a greater age, and seems 
 from the language and orthography to be of Scotish, 
 or at least of North coimtry extraction. The frag- 
 ment of a somewhat different copy, in the same 
 dialect, is contained in a MS. of Henry the bths 
 time in the British Museum (Bib. Har. 5396). 
 // has evidently been designed to be sung to the 
 harp. 
 
LYSTENYTH, lordyngys, y you pray, 
 How a merchand dyd hys wyfe betray, 
 Bothe be day and be nyght, 
 Yf ye wyll herkyn aryght. 
 Thys songe ys of a merchand of thys cuntre. 5 
 That had a wyfe feyre and free ; 
 The marchand had a full gode wyfe, 
 Sche louyd hym trewly as hur lyfe, 
 What that euyr he to hur sayde, 
 Euyr sche helde hur wele apayde : 10 
 
 The marchand, that was so gay, 
 By another woman he lay ; 
 
HOW A MERCHANDE DYD 
 
 He boght hur gownys of grete pryce, 
 
 Furryd with menyvere and with gryse, 
 
 To hur hedd ryall atyre, 1 5 
 
 As any lady myght desyre ; 
 
 Hys wyfe, that was so trewe as ston, 
 
 He wolde ware no thyng vpon : 
 
 That was foly be my fay, 
 
 That fayrenes schulde tru loue betray. 20 
 
 So hyt happenyd, as he wolde, 
 
 The marchand ouer the see he schulde ; 
 
 To hys leman ys he gon, 
 
 Leue at hur for to tane ; 
 
 With clyppyng and with kyssyng swete, 25 
 
 When they schulde parte bothe dyd they wepe. 
 
 Tyll hys wyfe ys he gon, 
 
 Leue at her then hath he tan ; 
 
 Dame, he seyde, be goddys are, 
 
 Haste any money thou woldyst ware ? 30 
 
 Whan y come bezonde the see 
 
 That y myzt the bye some ryche drewre . 
 
 Syr, sche seyde, as Cryst me saue, 
 
 Ye haue all that euyr y haue ; 
 
 Ye schall haue a peny here, 35 
 
 As ye ar my trewe fere, 
 
 Bye ye me a penyworth of wytt, 
 
 And in youre hert kepe wele hyt. 
 
 Styll stode the merchand tho, 
 
 Lothe he was the peny to forgoo, 40 
 
 Certen sothe, as y yow say, 
 
 He put hyt in hys puree and yede hys way. 
 
 A full gode wynde god hath hym sende, 
 
 Yn Fraunce hyt can hym brynge ; 
 
HYS WYFE BETRAY. 
 
 A full gode schypp arrayed he 45 
 
 Wyth marchaundyce and spy cere. 
 
 Certen sothe, or he wolde reste, 
 
 He boght hys lemman of the beste, 
 
 He boght hur bedys, brochys and ryngys, 
 
 Nowchys of golde, and many feyre thyngys ; 
 
 He boght hur perry to hur hedd, 51 
 
 Of safurs and of rubyes redd ; 
 
 Hys wyfe, that was so trew as ston, 
 
 He wolde ware nothyng vpon : 
 
 That was foly be my fay, 55 
 
 That fayrenes schulde trew loue betray. 
 
 When he had boght all that he wolde, 
 
 The marchand ouyr the see he schulde. 
 
 The marchandys man to hys mayster dyd speke, 
 
 Oure dameys peny let vs not forgete. 60 
 
 The marchand swore, be seynt Anne, 
 
 Zyt was that a lewde bargan, 
 
 To bye owre dame a penyworth of wytt, 
 
 In all Fraunce y can not fynde hyt. 
 
 'An' olde man in the halle stode, 65 
 
 The marchandys speche he undurzode ; 
 
 The olde man to the marchand can say, 
 
 A worde of counsell y yow pray, 
 
 And y schall selle yow a penyworth of wyt, 
 
 Yf ye take gode hede to hyt : 70 
 
 Tell me marchand, be thy lyfe, 
 
 Whethyr haste thou a leman or a wyfe ? 
 
 Syr, y haue bothe, as haue y reste, 
 
 But my paramour loue I beste. 
 
 V. 65. And. 
 
6 HOW A MERCHANDE DYD 
 
 Then seyde the olde man, withowten were, 75 
 
 Do now as y teche the here ; 
 
 When thou comyst ouyr the salte fome, 
 
 Olde clothys then do the vpon, 
 
 To thy lemman that thou goo, 
 
 And telle hur of all thy woo ; 80 
 
 Syke sore, do as y the say, 
 
 And telle hur all thy gode ys loste away, 
 
 Thy schyp ys drownyd in the fom, 
 
 And all thy god ys loste the from ; 
 
 When thou haste tolde hur soo, 85 
 
 Then to thy weddyd wyfe thou go ; 
 
 Whedyr helpyth the bettur yn thy nede, 
 
 Dwelle with hur, as Cryste the spede. 
 
 The marchand seyde, wele must thou fare, 
 
 Have here thy peny, y haue my ware. 90 
 
 When he come ouer the salte fome, 
 
 Olde clothys he dyd hym vpon, 
 
 Hys lemman lokyd forthe and on hym see, 
 
 And seyde to hur maydyn, how lykyth the ? 
 
 My love ys comyn fro beyonde the see, 95 
 
 Come hedur, and see hym wyth thyn eye. 
 
 The maydyn seyde, be my fay, 
 
 He ys yn a febull array. 
 
 Go down, maydyn, in to the halle, 
 
 Yf thou mete the marchand wythalle, 100 
 
 And yf he spyrre aftyr me, 
 
 Say, thou sawe me wyth non eye ; 
 
 Yf he wyll algatys wytt, 
 
 Say in my chaumbyr y lye sore syke, 
 
 V.V. 79, 80. These two lines are in the MS. inserted 
 after the four following. 
 
HYS WYFE BETRAY. 7 
 
 Out of hyt y may not wynne, 105 
 
 To speke wyth none ende of my kynne, 
 
 Nother wyth hym nor wyth none other, 
 
 Thowe he were myn own brother. 
 
 Alias ! seyde the maydyn, why sey ye soo ? 
 
 Thynke how he helpyed yow owt of moche wo. 
 
 Fyrst when ye mett, wyth owt lesynge, in 
 
 Youre gode was not worthe xx s. , 
 
 Now hyt ys worthe cccc pownde, 
 
 Of golde and syluyr that ys rounde ; 
 
 Gode ys but a lante lone, 115 
 
 Some tyme men haue hyt, and some tyme none ; 
 
 Thogh all hys gode be gon hym froo, 
 
 Neuyr forsake hym in hys woo. 
 
 Go downe, maydyn, as y bydd the, 
 
 Thou schalt no lenger ellys dwelle wyth me. 
 
 The maydyn wente in to the halle, 121 
 
 There sche met the marchand wythall. 
 
 Where ys my lemman ? where ys sche ? 
 
 Why wyll sche not come speke wyth me ? 
 
 Syr, y do the wele to wytt, 125 
 
 Yn hyr chaumbyr sche lyeth full syke, 
 
 Out of hyt sche may not wynne, 
 
 To speke wyth non ende of hur kynne, 
 
 Nother wyth yow nor wyth non other, 
 
 Thowe ye were hur owne brother. 130 
 
 Maydyn, to my lemman that thou go, 
 
 And telle hur my gode ys loste me fro, 
 
 My schyp ys drpwnyd in the fom, 
 
 And all my gode ys loste me from ; 
 
 A gentylman have y slawe, 135 
 
 Y dar not abyde the londys la we : 
 
8 HOW A MERCHANDE DYD 
 
 Pray hur, as sche louyth me dere, 
 
 As y have ben to hur a trewe fere, 
 
 To kepe me preuy in hur chaumbyr, 
 
 That the kyngys bay lyes take me neuyr. 140 
 
 Into the chaumbyr the maydyn ys goon, 
 
 Thys tale sche told hur dame anone. 
 
 In to the halle, maydyn, wynde thou downe, 
 
 And bydd hym owt of my halle to goon, 
 
 Or y schall send in to the towne, 145 
 
 And make the kyngys baylyes to come ; 
 
 Y swere, be god of grete renown, 
 
 Y wyll neuyr harbur the kyngys feloun. 
 
 The maydyn wente in to the halle, 
 
 And thus sche tolde the merchand alle ; 150 
 
 The marchand sawe none other spede, 
 
 He toke hys leve and forthe he yede. 
 
 Lystenyth, lordyngys, curtes and hende, 
 
 For zyt ys the better fytt behynde. 
 
 r 
 
 [THE SECOND FIT.] 
 
 T YSTENYTH, lordyngys, great and small : 
 
 J ^ The marchand ys now to hys own halle ; 
 
 Of hys comyng hys wyfe was fayne, 
 
 Anone sche come hym agayne. 
 
 Husbonde, sche seyde, welcome ye be, 
 
 How haue ye farde beyonde the see? 160 
 
 Dame, he seyde, be goddys are, 
 
 All full febyll hath be my fare ; 
 
 All the gode that euer was thyn and myn 
 
 Hyt ys loste be seynt Martyn ; 
 
HYS WYFE BETRAY. 4 
 
 In a storme y was bestadde, 165 
 
 Was y neuyr halfe so sore adrad, 
 
 Y thanke hyt god, for so y may, 
 
 That euyr y skapyd on lyve away ; 
 
 My schyp ys drownyd in the fom, 
 
 And all my gode ys loste me from ; 170 
 
 A gentylman haue y slawe, 
 
 I may not abyde the londys lawe ; 
 
 I pray the, as thou louest me dere, 
 
 As thou art my trewe weddyd fere, 
 
 In thy chaumber thou woldest kepe me dern. 
 
 Syr, sche seyde, no man schall me warne : 176 
 
 Be stylle, husbonde, sygh not so sore, 
 
 He that hathe thy gode may sende the more ; 
 
 Thovve all thy gode be fro the goo, 
 
 I wyll neuyr forsake the in thy woo ; 1 80 
 
 Y schall go to the kyng and to the quene, 
 
 And knele before them on my kneen, 
 
 There to knele and neuyr to cese, 
 
 Tyl of the kyng y haue getyn thy pees : 
 
 I can bake, brewe, carde and spynne, 185 
 
 My maydenys and y can sylvyr wynne, 
 
 Euyr whyll y am thy wyfe, 
 
 To maynten the a trewe mannys lyfe. 
 
 Certen sothe, as y yow say, 
 
 All nyght be hys wyfe he lay, 190 
 
 On the morne, or he forthe yede, 
 
 He kaste on hym a ryall wede, 
 
 And bestrode a full gode stede, 
 
 And to hys lemmans hows he yede. 
 
 Hys lemman lokyd forthe and on hym see, 195 
 
 As he come rydyng ouyr the lee, 
 
o HOW A MERCHANDE DYD 
 
 Sche put on hur a garment of palle, 
 
 And mett the marchand in the halle, 
 
 Twyes or thryes, or euyr he wyste, 
 
 Trewly sche had hym kyste. 200 
 
 Syr, sche seyde, be seynt John, 
 
 Ye were neuyr halfe so welcome home. 
 
 Sche was a schrewe, as haue y hele, 
 
 There sche currayed fauell well. 
 
 Dame, he seyde, be seynt John, 205 
 
 Zyt ar not we at oon ; 
 
 Hyt was tolde me beyonde the see, 
 
 Thou haste another leman then me, 
 
 All the gode that was thyn and myne, 
 
 Thou haste geuyn hym, be seynt Martyn. 210 
 
 Syr, as Cryste bryng me fro bale, 
 
 Sche lyeth falsely that tolde the that tale ; 
 
 Hyt was thy wyfe, that olde trate, 
 
 That neuyr gode worde by me spake ; 
 
 Were sche dedd (god lene hyt wolde !) 215 
 
 Of the haue all my wylle y schulde ; 
 
 Erly, late, lowde and stylle, 
 
 Of the schulde y haue all my wylle : 
 
 Ye schall see, so muste y the, 
 
 That sche lyeth falsely on me. 220 
 
 Sche leyde a canvas on the flore, 
 
 Longe and large, styffe and store, 
 
 Sche leyde theron, wythowten lyte, 
 
 Fyfty schetys waschen whyte, 
 
 Pecys of syluyr, masers of golde ; 225 
 
 The marchancl stode hyt to be holde : 
 
 He put hyt in a wyde sakk, 
 
 And leyde hyt on the hors bakk ; 
 
HIS WYFE BETRAY. i 
 
 He bad hys chylde go belyue, 
 
 And lede thys home to my wyue. 230 
 
 The chylde on hys way ys gon, 
 
 The marchande come aftyr anon ; 
 
 He caste the pakk downe in the flore, 
 
 Longe and large, styf and store, 
 
 As hyt lay on the grounde, 235 
 
 Hyt was wele worthe cccc pownde : 
 
 They on dedyn the mouth aryght, 
 
 There they sawe a ryall syght. 
 
 Syr, sayde hys wyfe, be the rode, 
 
 Where had ye all thys ryall gode ? 240 
 
 Dame, he seyde, be goddys are, 
 
 Here ys thy penyworth of ware ; 
 
 Yf thou thynke hyt not wele besett, 
 
 Gyf hyt another can be ware hytt bett ; 
 
 All thys wyth thy peny boght y, 245 
 
 And therfore y gyf hyt the frely ; 
 
 Do wyth all what so euyr ye lyste, 
 
 I wyll neuyr aske yow accowntys, be Cryste. 
 
 The marchandys wyfe to hym can say, 
 
 Why come ye home in so febull array ? 250 
 
 Then seyde the marchand, sone ageyn, 
 
 Wyfe, for to assay the in certeyn ; 
 
 For at my lemman was y before, 
 
 And sche by me sett lytyll store, 
 
 And sche louyd bettyr my gode then me, 255 
 
 And so wyfe dydd neuyr ye. 
 
 To tell hys wyfe then he began, 
 
 All that gode he had takyn fro hys lemman ; 
 
 And all was becawse of thy peny, 
 
 Therfore y gyf hyt the frely ; 260 
 
12 HOW A MERCHANDE DVD, ETC. 
 
 And y gyf god a vowe thys howre, 
 
 Y wyll neuyr more have paramowre, 
 
 But the, myn own derlyng and wyfe, 
 
 Wyth the wyll y lede my lyfe. 
 
 Thus the marchandys care be gan to kele, 265 
 
 He lefte hys folye euery dele, 
 
 And leuyd in clennefse and honeste ; 
 
 Y pray god that so do we. 
 
 God that ys of grete renowne, 
 
 Saue all the gode folke of thys towne : 270 
 
 Jesu, as thou art heuyn kynge, 
 
 To the blys of heuyn owre soules brynge. 
 
HOW THE WISE MAN TAUGHT 
 HIS SON. 
 
This little moral piece, which, for the time 
 wherein it was written, is not inelegant, is given 
 from a manuscript collection in the Harlcian 
 library in the British Museum (No. 1596), com- 
 piled in the reign of King Henry the sixth. It is 
 not supposed to have been before printed, nor has 
 any other copy of it been met with in manuscript ; 
 there is however a striking coincidence of idea in 
 Mr. Gilbert Coopers beautiful elegy intitled "A 
 father's advice to his son," as well as in the old 
 song of " It's good to be merry and wise ;" which 
 the more curious reader may consult at his leisure. 
 
LYSTENYTH all, and ze well here 
 How the wyse man taght hys son ; 
 Take gode tent to thys matere, 
 And fond to lere yf the con. 
 Thys song be zonge men was begon, 
 To make hem tyrsty and stedfast ; 
 But zarn that is oft tyme yll sponne, 
 Euyll hyt comys out at the last. 
 
 A wyse man had a fayre chyld, 
 
 Was well of fyftene zere age, 
 That was bothe meke and mykle, 
 
 Fayre of body and uesage ; 
 Gentyll of kynde and of corage, 
 
 For he schulde be hys fadur eyre ; 
 
16 HOW THE WISE MAN 
 
 Hys fadur thus, yn hys langage, 15 
 
 * Taght ' hys sone bothe weyll and fayre : 
 
 And sayd, son, kepe thys word yn hart, 
 
 And thenke theron * tyll ' thou be ded ; 
 Zeyr day thy furst weke, 
 
 Loke thys be don yn ylke stede : 20 
 
 Furst se thye god yn forme of brede, * 
 
 And serue hym ' well ' for hys godenes. 
 And afturward, sone, by my rede, 
 
 Go do thy worldys besynes. 
 
 Forst, worschyp thy god on a day, 25 
 
 And, sone, thys schall thou haue to ( mede/ 
 Skyll fully what thou pray, 
 
 He wyll the graunt with outyn drede, 
 And send the al that thou hast nede, 
 
 As * far ' as meser longyyth to strech, 30 
 This lyfe in mesur that thou lede, 
 
 And of the remlant thou ne rech. 
 
 And, sone, thy tong thou kepe also, 
 
 And be not tale wyse be no way, 
 Thyn owen tonge may be thy fo, 35 
 
 Therfor beware, sone, j the pray, 
 Where and when, son, thou schalt say, 
 
 And be whom thou spekyst oght ; 
 For thou may speke a word to day 
 
 That seuen zere thens may be forthozt. 40 
 
 V. 1 6. That. V. 1 8. thyll. V. 22. wyll. 
 
 V. 26. mad. V. 30. for. 
 
 * i. e. go to mass. 
 
TAUGHT HIS SON. 17 
 
 Therefore, sone, be ware be tyme, 
 
 Desyre no offys for to bere, 
 For of thy neyborys mawgref, 
 
 Thou most hem bothe dysplese and dere, 
 Or ellys thy self thou must * forswere,' 45 
 
 And do not as thyn offys wolde, 
 And gete the mawgrefe here and there, 
 
 More then thank a thousand fold. 
 
 And, sone, yf thou wylt lyf at ese, 
 
 And warme among thy neyburs syt, 5 
 Lat newefangylnes the plese 
 
 Oftyn to remewe nor to flyt, 
 For and thou do thou wantys wyt, 
 
 For folys they remewe al to wyde ; 
 And also, sone, an euyl * sygne' ys hyt, 55 
 
 A mon that can no wher abyde. 
 
 And, sone, of syche thyng j the warne, 
 
 And on my blyssyng take gode hede, 
 Thou vse neuer the tauerne ; 
 
 And also dysyng j the forbede : 60 
 
 For thyse two thyngys, with outyn drede, 
 
 And comon women, as j leue, 
 Maks zong men euyle to spede, 
 
 And * falle ' yn danger and yn myschefe. 
 
 And, sone, the more gode thou hast, 65 
 
 The rather bere the meke and lowe ; 
 
 Lagh not mych for that ys wast, 
 For folys ben by laghing * knowe.' 
 
 V. 45. for swete. ^-55- sagne. 
 
 K. 64. fulle. V. 68. knone. 
 
i8 HOW THE WISE MAN 
 
 And, sone, quyte wele that thou owe, 
 
 So that thou be of detts clere ; 70 
 
 And thus, my lefe chylde, as j 'trowe,' 
 Thou mest the kepe fro davngere. 
 
 And loke thou wake not to longe, 
 
 Ne vse not rere soperys to late ; 
 For, were thy complexion neuyr so strong, 75 
 
 Wyth surfet thou mayst fordo that. 
 Of late walkyng oftyn debate, 
 
 On nyztys for to syt and drynke ; 
 Yf thou wylt rule thyn aftate, 
 
 Betyme go to bed and wynke. 80 
 
 And, sone, as far furth as thou may, 
 
 On non enquest that thou come, 
 Nor no fals wytnesse bere away, 
 
 Of no manys mater, all ne sum : 
 For better the were be defe and dowm, 85 
 
 Then for to be on eny enquest, 
 That aftyr myzt be vndurnome, 
 
 A trewe man had hys quarel lest. 
 
 And, sone, yf thou wylt haue a wyfe, 
 
 Take hur for no couetyse, 9P 
 
 But loke, sone, sche be the lefe, 
 
 Thou wyfe bywayt and wele awyse, 
 That sche be gode, honest, and wyse, 
 
 Thof sche be pore take thou no hede, 
 For sche ' serial' do the more seruys, 95 
 
 Then schall a ryche with owtyn drede. 
 
 V. 71. trewe. V. 95- schalt. 
 
TAUGHT HIS SON. 19 
 
 For better it is in rest and pes, 
 
 A mes of potage and no more, 
 Than for to haue a thousand mes, 
 
 With gret dysese and angyr sore. 100 
 
 Therfore, sone. thynk on thys lore, 
 
 Yf thou wylt haue a vvyfe with ese, 
 By hur gode set thou no store, 
 
 Thoffe sche wolde the bothe feffe and sesse. 
 
 And yf thy wyfe be meke and gode, 105 
 
 And serue the wele and ' plesantly,' 
 Loke that thou be not so wode, 
 
 To charge hur then to owtragely ; 
 But then fare with hur esely, 
 
 And cherysch hur for hur gode dede, 1 10 
 For thyng ouerdon vnskylfully, 
 
 Makys wrath to grow where ys no nede. 
 
 I wyl neyther glos ne ' paynt,' 
 
 But waran the on anodyr syde, 
 Yf thy wyfe come to make pleynt, 115 
 
 On thy seruandys on any syde, 
 Be nott to hasty them to chyde, 
 
 Nor wreth the or thou wytt the sothe, 
 For wemen yn wrethe they can not hyde, 
 
 But sone they reyse a smokei rofe. 120 
 
 Nor, sone, be not jelows, j the pray, 
 For, and thou falle in jelosye, 
 
 V. 1 06. plesantyl. K 113. praynt. 
 
 V. 1 1 8. The MS. reads wreth the not, but the word 
 not is inserted by a different, tho^lgh very ancient, hand, 
 which has corrected the poem in other places ; and is 
 certainly redundant and improper. 
 
o HOW THE WISE MAN 
 
 Let not thy wyfe wyt in no way, 
 
 For thou may do no more foly ; 
 For, and thy wyfe may onys aspye 125 
 
 That thou any thyng hur mystryst, 
 In dyspyte of thy fantesy, 
 
 To do the wors ys all hur lyst. 
 
 Therfore, sone, j byd the 
 
 Wyrche with thy wyfe as reson ys, 130 
 Thof sche be seruant in degre, 
 
 In som degre she felaw ys. 
 Laddys that ar bundyn, so haue j blys, 
 
 That can not rewle theyr wyves aryzt, 
 That makys wemen, so haue j blys, 135 
 
 To do oftyn wrong yn plyzt. 
 
 Nor, sone, bete nott thy wyfe j rede, 
 
 For ther yn may no help ' rise,' 
 Betyng may not stond yn stede, 
 
 But rather make hur ' the to despyse :' 140 
 Wyth louys awe, sone, thy wyfe chastyse, 
 
 And let fayre wordys be thy zerde ; 
 Louys awe ys the best gyse, 
 
 My sone, to make thy wyfe aferde. 
 
 Nor, sone, thy wyfe thou schalt not chyde, 
 Nor calle hur by no vyleus name, 146 
 
 For sche that schal ly be thy syde, 
 To calle hur fowle yt ys thy schame ; 
 
 V 135. The latter half of this line seems repeated 
 by mistake. 
 
 V. 138. be. V. 140. to despyse the. 
 
TAUGHT HIS SON. 2: 
 
 Whan thou thyne owen wyfe wyl dyffame, 
 Wele may anothyr man do so : 150 
 
 Sort and fayre men make tame 
 Herte and buk and wylde roo. 
 
 And, sone, thou pay ryzt wele thy tythe *, 
 
 And pore men of thy gode thou dele ; 
 And loke, sone, be thy lyfe, 155 
 
 Thou gete thy sowle here sum hele. 
 Thys werld hyt turnys euyn as a whele, 
 
 All day be day hyt wyl enpayre, 
 And so, sone, thys worldys wele, 
 
 Hyt faryth but as a chery fare. 160 
 
 For all that euyr man doth here, 
 
 Wyth besynesse and trauell bothe, 
 All ys wythowtyn were, 
 
 For oure mete, drynk, and clothe ; 
 More getys he not, wythowtyn othe, 165 
 
 Kyng or prynce whether that he be, 
 Be hym lefe, or be hym loth, 
 
 A pore man has as mych as he. 
 
 And many a man here gadrys gode 
 
 All hys lyfe dayes for othyr men, 1 70 
 
 That he may not by the rode, 
 
 Hym self onys ete of an henne ; 
 But be he doluyn yn hys den, 
 
 Anothyr schal come at hys last ende, 
 Schal hatie hys wyf and catel then, 175 
 
 That he has gadred another schal spende. 
 
 * The author, from this and other admonitions, is 
 supposed to have been a parson. 
 
22 HO W THE WISE MAN, ETC. 
 
 Therfor, sone, be my counseyle, 
 
 More then ynogh thou neuyr covayt, 
 
 Thou ne wost wan deth wyl the assayle, 
 Thys werld ys but the fendys bayte. 1 80 
 
 For deth ys, sone, as I trowe, 
 
 The most thyng that certyn ys, 
 And non so vncerteyn for to knowe, 
 
 As ys the tyme of deth y wys ; 
 And therfore so thou thynk on thys, 185 
 
 And al that j haue seyd beforn : 
 And Ihesu ' bryng' vs to hys blys, 
 
 That for us weryd the crowne of thorn. 
 
 y. 1 80. The latter part of this stanza seems to be 
 wanting. 
 
 V. 187. brynd. 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 OF 
 
 TOM THUMBE. 
 
// is needless to mention the popularity of the 
 following story. Every city, town, village, shop, 
 stall, man, woman, and child, in the kingdom, 
 can bear witness to it. Its antiquity, however, 
 remains to be enquired into, more especially as no 
 very ancient edition of it has been discovered. 
 That which was made tise of on the present occasion 
 bears the following title: " Tom Thumbe, his life 
 ami death : wherein is declared many maruailous 
 acts of manhood, full of wonder, and strange mer- 
 riments. Which little knight lived in king Arthurs 
 time, and famous in the court of Great Brittaine. 
 London, printed for John Wright. 1630." It is 
 a small 8vo. in black letter, was given, among 
 many other curious pieces, by Robert Burton, 
 author of the Anatomy of Melancholy, to the 
 Bodleian Library (Seld. Art. L. 79. ), and is the 
 oldest copy known to be extant. There is a later 
 edition, likewise in black letter, printed for F. Coles 
 and others, in Antony a Wood's collection, which 
 has been collated, as has also a different copy, 
 printed for some of the same proprietors, in the 
 editor s possession. All three are ornamented with 
 curious cuts, representing the most memorable in- 
 cidents of our heroes life. They are likewise 
 divided into chapters by short prose arguments, 
 which, being always unnecessary, and sometimes 
 improper, as occasioning an interruption of the 
 narrative, are here omit led. 
 
 In Ben Jonson^s Masque of the Fortunate Isles, 
 designed for the Court, on the Twelfth Night, 
 
1626, Skelton, one of the characters, after mention- 
 ing Elinor Rtimming, and others, says 
 Or you may have come 
 
 In, THOMAS THUMB, 
 
 IN A PUDDING FA T. 
 With Doctor Rat. 
 
 Then " The Antimasque follows: consisting of 
 these twelve persons, Owl-glass, the four Knaves, 
 two Ruffians, Fit z- Ale, and Vapor, Elinor Rum- 
 ming, Mary Ambree, Long Meg of Westminster, 
 TOM THUMB* and Doctor Rat" * 
 
 Five years before there had appeared " The 
 History of Tom Thumbe, the Little, for his small 
 stature surnamed, King Arthurs Dwarf e: Whose 
 Life and aduentures containe many strange and 
 wonderful accidents, published for the delight of 
 merry Time-spenders. Imprinted at London for 
 Tho: Langley, 1621, (1277/0. /)/./.)" This how- 
 ever was only the common metrical story turned 
 into prose with some foolish additions by R. I. 
 {Richard Johnson.] The Preface or Introductory 
 Chapter is as follows, being indeed the only part of 
 the book that deserves notice. 
 
 f ' My merry Muse begets no Tales of Guy of 
 Wai wicke, nor of botild Sir Beuis of Hampton ; 
 nor will I trouble my penne ivith the pleasant glee 
 of Robin Hood, little lohn, the Fryer and his 
 Marian ; nor will I call to minde the lusty Pindar 
 of Wakefield, nor those bold Yeomen of the North, 
 ADAM BELL, CLEM OF THE CLOUGH, nor WILLIAM 
 
 * Works, by WJialley, vL 195. "Doctor Rat, the 
 curate" is one of the Dramatis Personae in " Gainmar 
 Gurtons Needle" 
 
OF CLOUDESLY, those ancient archers of all Eng- 
 land, nor shal my story be made of the mad merry 
 pranckes of Tom of Bethlem, Tom Lincolne, or 
 Tom a Lin, the Diuels supposed Bastard, nor yet 
 of Garagantua that monster of men*, but of AN 
 
 LDER TOM A TOM OF MORE ANTIQUITY, a Tom 
 
 of a strange making, I meane Little Tom of Wales, 
 no bigger then a Millers Thumbe, and therefore for 
 
 his small stature, surnamed Tom Thumbe 
 
 The ANCIENT TALES of Tom Thumbe IN THE OLDE 
 TIMS, haue beene the only reuiuers of drouzy age at 
 midnight ; old and young haue with his Tales 
 chimed Mattens till the cocks crow in the morning ; 
 Batchelors and Maides with his Tales hatte com- 
 passed the Christmas fire-blocke, till the Curfew- 
 Bell rings candle out ; the old Shepheard and the 
 young Plow boy after their dayes labour, haue 
 carold out a Tale of Tom Jhumbe to make them 
 merry with : and who but little Tom, hath made 
 long nights seem short, and heauy toyles easie? 
 Therefore {gentle Reader) considering that old 
 modest mirth is turnd naked out of doors, while 
 nimble wit in the great Hall sits vpon a soft 
 cushion giuing dry bobbes ; for which cause I will, 
 if I can, new cloath him in his former littery, and 
 bring him againe into the Chimney Corner, where 
 now yoti must imagine me to sit by a good jire, 
 
 * This is scarcely true; the titles of the two last 
 chapters being, i. " HOT.U Tom Thiimbe riding forth to 
 take the ayre, met with the great Garagantua, and of 
 the speech that was betweene than" 2. " How Tom 
 Thumbe after conference had with great Garagantua 
 returned, and how he met with King Twadle." 
 
amongst a company of good fellowes ouer a well 
 spiced Wassel'bowle of Christmas Ale telling of 
 these merry Tales which hereafter follow" This is 
 in the editors possession. 
 
 In the panegyric verses (by Michael Drayton 
 and others} upon Tom Coryate and his Crudities, 
 London, 1611, 4/0. our hero is thus introduced, 
 along with a namesake, of whom, unforttmately, 
 we know nothing further * : 
 
 "Tb.v THUMB E is dumbe, vntill the pudding creepe, 
 " In which he was intomUd, then out doth peepe. 
 " TOM PIPER is gone out, and mirth bewailes* 
 " He neuer will come in to tell vs tales "\ 
 
 We are unable to trace our little hero abwe half 
 a century further back, when we fend him still 
 popular, indeed, btit, to our great mortification, in 
 very bad company. f ' IN OUR CHILDHOOD (says 
 honest Reginald Scot} our mothers maids haue so 
 terrified vs with an ouglie diuell . . . and haue so 
 fraied vs with bull beggers, spirits, witches, vrchens, 
 elues, hags, fairies, satyrs, pans, faunes, sylens, kit 
 with the cansticke, tritons, centaurs, divarfes, 
 giants, imps, calcars, coniurors, nymphes, chang- 
 
 * This is a mistake : we are all well acquainted with 
 the old lines : 
 
 " Tom, Tom, the Piper's son, 
 Stole a pig, and away he run." 
 
 t In a different part of the work we find other charac- 
 ters mentioned, whose story is now, perhaps, irretrievably 
 forgot : 
 
 I am not now to tell a tale 
 Of George a Green, or lacke a Vale, 
 Or yet cf Chittiface. 
 
tiftgs, incubus, Robin good-fellow, the spoorne, the 
 inare, the man in the oke, the helle ivaine, thefiere- 
 drake, the puckle, TOM THOMBE, hob-gobblin, Tom 
 tumbler, boncks, and such other bugs, that we are 
 afraide of our owne shadowes." * 
 
 To these researches we shall only add the opinion 
 of that eminent antiquary Mr. Thomas Hearne, 
 tliat this History, " however looked upon as alto- 
 gether fictitious, yet was CERTAINLY founded upon 
 some AUTHENTIGK HISTORY, as being nothing else, 
 originally, but a description of KING EDGAR'S 
 DWARF" f 
 
 * Discouerie of Witchcraft. London, 1584, \to. p. 155. 
 See also Archb, Harsnets Declaration, of Popish. Im- 
 postures. Ibi. 1604, ^to. p. 135. 
 
 t Benedictus Abbas, Appendix ad Praefationem, /. LV. 
 Mr. Hearne was probably led to fix upon this monarch 
 by some ridiculous lines added, about his own time, to 
 introduce a spurious second and third part. See the 
 common editions of Aldermary church-yard, &c. or that 
 intitUd " Thomas Redivivus : or, a compleat history of 
 the life and marvellous actions of Tom Thumb. In 
 three tomes. Interspersed with that ingenious comment 
 of the late Dr. \Vagstaff : and annotations by several 
 hands. To which is prefixed historical and critical 
 remarks on the life and writings of the autJwr." London, 
 1729. FOLIO. Dr. Wagstaff's comment was written to 
 ridicule that of Mr. Addison, in the Spectator, upon the 
 ballad of Chevy-Chase, and is inserted in his Works. 
 
IN Arthurs court Tom Thumbe did Hue, 
 A man of mickle might, 
 The best of all the table round, 
 And eke a doughty knight : 
 
 His stature but an inch in height, 
 
 Or quarter of a span ; 
 Then thinke you not this little knight, 
 
 Was prou'd a valiant man? 
 
30 LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 His father was a plow-man plaine, 
 
 His mother milkt the cow, 10 
 
 But yet the way to get a sonne 
 ' This ' couple knew not how, 
 
 Untill such time this good old man 
 
 To learned Merlin goes, 
 And there to him his deepe desires 1 5 
 
 In secret manner showes, 
 
 How in his heart he wisht to haue 
 
 A childe, in time to come, 
 To be his heire, though it might be 
 
 No bigger than his Thumbe. 20 
 
 Of which old Merlin thus foretold, 
 
 That he his wish should haue, 
 And so this sonne of stature small 
 
 The charmer to him gaue. 
 
 No blood nor bones in him should be, 25 
 
 In shape and being such, 
 That men should heare him speake, but not 
 
 His wandring shadow touch : 
 
 But so vnseene to goe or come 
 
 Whereas it pleasd him still ; 30 
 
 Begot and borne in halfe an houre, 
 
 To fit his fathers will : 
 
 V. 12. these. 
 
OF TOM THUMBS. 31 
 
 And in foure minutes grew so fast, 
 
 That he became so tall 
 As was the plowmans thumbe in height, 35 
 
 And so they did him call 
 
 TOM THUMBE, the which the Fayry-Queene 
 
 There gave him to his name, 
 "Who, with her traine of Goblins grim, 
 
 Vnto his christning came. 40 
 
 Whereas she cloath'd him richly braue, 
 
 In garments fine and faire, 
 Which lasted him for many yeares 
 
 In seemely sort to weare. 
 
 His hat made of an oaken leafe, 45 
 
 His shirt a spiders web, 
 Both light and soft for those his limbes 
 
 That were so smally bred ; 
 
 His hose and doublet thistle downe, 
 
 Togeather weau'd full fine ; 50 
 
 His stockins of an apple greene, 
 Made of the outward rine ; 
 
 His garters were two little haires, 
 
 Pull'd from his mothers eye, 
 His bootes and shooes a mouses skin, 55 
 
 There tand most curiously. 
 
 Thus, like a lustie gallant, he 
 
 Aduentured forth to goe, 
 With other children in the streets 
 
 His pretty trickes to show. 60 
 
p LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 Where he for counters, pinns, and points, 
 
 And cherry stones did play, 
 Till he amongst those gamesters young 
 
 Had loste his stocke away. 
 
 Yet could he soone renue the same, 65 
 
 When as most nimbly he 
 Would diue into * their ' cherry-baggs, 
 
 And there ' partaker ' be, 
 
 Unseene or felt by any one, 
 
 Vntill a scholler shut 70 
 
 This nimble youth into a boxe, 
 
 Wherein his pins he put. 
 
 Of whom to be reueng'd, he tooke 
 
 (In mirth and pleasant game) 
 Black pots, and glasses, which he hung 75 
 
 Vpon a bright sunne-beame. 
 
 The other boyes to doe the like, 
 
 In pieces broke them quite ; 
 For which they were most soundly whipt, 
 
 Whereat he 1 aught outright. 80 
 
 And so Tom Thumbe restrained was 
 
 From these his sports and play, 
 And by his mother after that 
 
 Compel'd at home to stay. 
 
 V. 67. the. V. 68. a taker. 
 
OF TOM THUMBE. 33 
 
 Whereas about a Christmas time, 85 
 
 His father a hog had kil'd, 
 And Tom ' would ' see the puddings made, 
 
 ' For fear ' they should be spil'd. 
 
 He sate vpon the pudding-boule, 
 
 The candle for to hold ; 90 
 
 Of which there is vnto this day 
 
 A pretty pastime told : 
 
 For Tom fell in, and could not be 
 
 For euer after found, 
 For in the blood and batter he 95 
 
 Was strangely lost and drownd. 
 
 Where searching long, but all in vaine, 
 
 His mother after that 
 Into a pudding thrust her sonne, 
 
 Instead of minced fat. 100 
 
 Which pudding of the largest size, 
 
 Into the kettle throwne, 
 Made all the rest to fly thereout, 
 
 As with a whirle-wind blowne. 
 
 For so it tumbled vp and downe, 105 
 
 Within the liquor there, 
 As if the deuill * had ' been boyld ; 
 
 Such was his mothers feare, 
 
 V. 87. to. V. 88. Fear'd that. 
 
 V. 107. had there. 
 
34 LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 That vp she tooke the pudding strait. 
 
 And gaue it at the doore 1 10 
 
 Vnto a tinker, which from thence 
 
 In his blacke budget bore. 
 
 But as the tinker climb'd a stile, 
 
 By chance he let a cracke : 
 Now gip, old knaue, out cride Tom Thumbe, 
 
 There hanging at his backe : 1 16 
 
 At which the tinker gan to run, 
 
 And would no longer stay, 
 But cast both bag and pudding downe, 
 
 And thence hyed fast away. 120 
 
 From which Tom Thumbe got loose at last 
 
 And home return'd againe : 
 Where he from following dangers long 
 
 In safety did remaine. 
 
 Untill such time his mother went 125 
 
 A milking of her kine, 
 Where Tom vnto a thistle fast 
 
 She linked with a twine. 
 
 A thread that helde him to the same, 
 
 For feare the blustring winde 130 
 
 Should blow him thence, that so she might 
 Her sonne in safety finde. 
 
 But marke the hap, a cow came by, 
 
 And vp the thistle eate. 
 Poore Tom withall, that, as a docke, 135 
 
 Was made the red cowes meate : 
 
OF TOM THUMBS. 35 
 
 Who being mist, his mother went 
 
 Him calling euery where, 
 Where art thou Tom ? where art thou Tom ? 
 
 Quoth he, Here mother, here : 140 
 
 Within the red cowes belly here, 
 
 Your sonne is swallowed vp. 
 The which into her feareful heart 
 
 Most carefull dolours put. 
 
 Meane while the cowe was troubled much, 
 In this her tumbling wombe, 146 
 
 And could not rest vntil that she 
 Had backward cast Tom Thumbe : 
 
 Who all besmeared as he was, 
 
 His mother tooke him vp, 150 
 
 To beare him thence, the which poore lad 
 
 She in her pocket put. 
 
 Now after this, in sowing time, 
 
 His father would him haue 
 Into the field to driue his plow, 
 
 And therevpon him gaue 155 
 
 A whip made of a barly straw, 
 
 To driue the cattle on : 
 Where, in a furrow 'd land new sowne, 
 
 Poore Tom was lost and gon. 
 
 Now by a raven of great strength 160 
 
 Away he thence was borne, 
 And carried in the carrions beake 
 
 Euen like a graine of corne, 
 
36 LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 Unto a giants castle top, 
 
 In which he let him fall, 165 
 
 Where soone the giant swallowed vp 
 
 His body, cloathes and all. 
 
 But in his belly did Tom Thumbe 
 
 So great a rumbling make, 
 That neither day nor night he could 1 70 
 
 The smallest quiet take, 
 
 Untill the gyant had him spewd 
 
 Three miles into the sea, 
 Whereas a fish soone tooke him vp 
 
 And bore him thence away. 175 
 
 Which lusty fish was after caught 
 
 And to king Arthur sent, 
 Where Tom was found, and made his dwarfe, 
 
 Whereas his dayes he spent 
 
 Long time in liuely iollity, 180 
 
 Belou'd of all the court, 
 And none like Tom was then esteem'd 
 
 Among the noble sort. 
 
 Amongst his deedes of courtship done, 
 
 His highnesse did command, 185 
 
 That he should dance a galliard braue 
 Vpon his queenes left hand. 
 
 The which he did, and for the same 
 
 The king his signet gaue, 
 Which Tom about his middle wore 190 
 
 Long time a girdle braue. 
 
OF TOM THUMBE. 37 
 
 Now after this the king would not 
 
 Abroad for pleasure goe, 
 But still Tom Thumbe must ride with him, 
 
 Plac't on his saddle-bow. 195 
 
 Where on a time when as it rain'd, 
 
 Tom Thumbe most nimbly crept 
 In at a button hole, where he 
 
 Within his bosome slept. 
 
 And being neere his highnesse heart, 200 
 
 He crau'd a wealthy boone, 
 A liberall gift, the which the king 
 
 Commanded to be done, 
 
 For to relieue his fathers wants, 
 
 And mothers, being old ; 205 
 
 Which was so much of siluer coyne 
 
 As well his armes could hold. 
 
 And so away goes lusty Tom, 
 
 With three pence on his backe, 
 A heauy burthen, which might make 210 
 
 His wearied limbes to cracke. 
 
 So trauelling two dayes and nights, 
 
 With labour and great paine, 
 He came into the house whereas 
 
 His parents did remaine ; 215 
 
 Which was but halfe a mile in space 
 
 From good king Arthurs court, 
 The which in eight and forty houres 
 
 He went in weary sort. 
 
38 LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 But comming to his fathers doore, 220 
 
 He there such entrance had 
 As made his parents both reioice, 
 
 And he thereat was glad. 
 
 His mother in her apron tooke 
 
 Her gentle sonne in haste, 225 
 
 And by the fier side, within 
 
 A walnut shell, him plac'd : 
 
 Whereas they feasted him three dayes 
 
 Vpon a hazell nut, 
 Whereon he rioted so long 230 
 
 He them to charges put ; 
 
 And there-upon grew wonderous sicke, 
 Through eating too much meate, 
 
 Which was sufficient for a month 
 
 For this great man to eate. 235 
 
 But now his businesse call'd him foorth, 
 
 King Arthurs court to see, 
 Whereas no fonger from the same 
 
 He could a stranger be. 
 
 But yet a few small April drops, 240 
 
 Which setled in the way, 
 His long and weary iourney forth 
 
 Did hinder and so stay. 
 
 Until his carefull father tooke 
 
 A birding trunke in sport, 245 
 
 And with one blast blew this his sonne 
 
 Into king Arthurs court. 
 
OF TOM THUMBE. -39 
 
 Now he with tilts and turnaments 
 
 Was entertained so, 
 That all the best of Arthurs knights 250 
 
 Did him much pleasure show. 
 
 As good Sir Lancelot of the Lake, 
 
 Sir Tristram, and sir Guy ; 
 Yet none compar'd with braue Tom Thum, 
 
 For knightly chiualry. 255 
 
 In honour of which noble day, 
 
 And for his ladies sake, 
 A challenge in king Arthurs court 
 
 Tom Thumbe did brauely make. 
 
 Gainst whom these noble knights did run, 260 
 
 Sir Chinon, and the rest, 
 Yet still Tom Thumbe with matchles might 
 
 Did beare away the best. 
 
 At last sir Lancelot of the Lake 
 
 In manly sort came in, 265 
 
 And with this stout and hardy knight 
 
 A battle did begin. 
 
 Which made the courtiers all agast, 
 
 For there that valiant man 
 Through Lancelots steed, before them all, 270 
 
 In nimble manner ran. 
 
 Yea horse and all, with speare and shield, 
 
 As hardly he was scene, 
 But onely by king Arthurs selfe 
 
 And his admired queene, 275 
 
o LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 Who from her finger tooke a ring, 
 
 Through which Tom Thumb made way, 
 
 Not touching it, in nimble sort, 
 As it was done in play. 
 
 He likewise cleft the smallest haire 280 
 
 From his faire ladies head, 
 Not hurting her whose euen hand 
 
 Him lasting honors bred. 
 
 Such were his deeds and noble acts 
 
 In Arthurs court there showne, 285 
 
 As like in all the world beside 
 Was hardly seene or knowne. 
 
 Now at these sports he toyld himselfe 
 
 That he a sicknesse tooke, 
 Through which all manly exercise 290 
 
 He carelesly forsooke. 
 
 Where lying on his bed sore sicke, 
 
 King Arthurs doctor came, 
 With cunning skill, by physicks art, 
 
 To ease and cure the same. 295 
 
 His body being so slender small, 
 
 This cunning doctor tooke 
 A fine prospective glasse, with which 
 
 He did in secret looke 
 
 Into his sickened body downe, 300 
 
 And therein saw that Death 
 Stood ready in his wasted guts 
 
 To sease his vitall breath. 
 
OF TOM THUMBS. 41 
 
 His armes and leggs consum'd as small 
 
 As was a spiders web, 305 
 
 Through which his dying houre grew on, 
 For all his limbes grew dead. 
 
 His face no bigger than an ants, 
 
 Which hardly could be scene : 
 The losse of which renowned knight 310 
 
 Much grieu'd the king and queene. 
 
 And so with peace and quietnesse 
 
 He left this earth below ; 
 And vp into the Fayry Land 
 
 His ghost did fading goe. 315 
 
 Whereas the Fayry Queene receiu'd, 
 
 With heauy mourning cheere, 
 The body of this valiant knight, 
 
 Whom she esteem'd so deere. 
 
 For with her dancing nymphes in greene, 320 
 
 She fetcht him from his bed, 
 With musicke and sweet melody, 
 
 So soone as life was fled : 
 
 For whom king Arthur and his knights 
 
 Full forty daies did mourne ; 325 
 
 And, in remembrance of his name 
 That was so strangely borne, 
 
 He built a tomb of marble gray, 
 
 And yeare by yeare did come 
 To celebrate the mournefull day, 330 
 
 And buriall of Tom Thum. 
 
42 LIFE AND DEATH OF TOM THUMBE. 
 
 Whose fame still Hues in England here, 
 Amongst the countrey sort ; 
 
 Of whom our wives and children small 
 Tell tales of pleasant sport. 
 
 335 
 
THE LOVERS QUARREL: 
 
 OR, 
 
 CUPIDS TRIUMPH. 
 
Tliis "pleasant History," which " may be sung 
 to the tune of Floras Farewell," is here republished 
 from a copy printed at London for F. Cotes and 
 others, 1677, I2mo. bl. I. preserved in the curious 
 and valuable collection of that excellent and most 
 respected antiquary Antony a Wood, in the Ash- 
 molean Museum ; compared with another im- 
 pression, for the same partners, without date, in 
 the editor's possession. The reader will find a 
 different copy of the poem, more in the ballad form, 
 in a Collection of "Ancient Songs," published by 
 y. Johnson. Both copies are conjectured to have 
 been modernised, by different persons, from some 
 common original, which has hitherto eluded the 
 vigilance of collectors, but is strongly suspected to 
 have been the composition of an old North country 
 minstrel. 
 
 The full title is " The Lovers quarrel : >or 
 Cupids Triumph : being the pleasant history of 
 Fair Rosamond of Scotland. Being daughter to 
 the lord Arundel, whose love was obtained by the 
 valour of Tommy Pots: who conquered the lord 
 Phenix, and wounded him, and after obtained her 
 to be his wife. Being very delightful to read. " 
 
OF all the lords in Scotland fair, 
 And ladies that been so bright of blee, 
 There is a noble lady among them all, 
 And report of her you shall hear by me. 
 
 For of her beauty she is bright, 5 
 
 And of her colour very fair, 
 She's daughter to lord Arundel, 
 
 Approv'd his parand and his heir. 
 
 He see this bride, lord Phenix said, 
 
 That lady of so bright a blee, 10 
 
 And if I like her countenance well, 
 The heir of all my lands she'st be. 
 
46 THE LOVERS QUARREL. 
 
 But when he came the lady before, 
 Before this comely maid came he, 
 
 god thee save, thou lady sweet, 15 
 My heir and parand thou shalt be. 
 
 Leave off your suit, the lady said, 
 As you are a lord of high degree, 
 
 You may have ladies enough at home, 
 
 And I have a lord in mine own country ; 20 
 
 For I have a lover true of mine own, 
 
 A serving-man of low degree, 
 One Tommy Pots it is his name, 
 
 My first love, and last that ever shall be. 
 
 If that Tom Pots [it] is his name, 25 
 
 I do ken him right verily, 
 
 1 am able to spend forty pounds a week, 
 Where he is not able to spend pounds three. 
 
 God give you good of your gold, she said, 
 And ever god give you good of your fee, 30 
 
 Tom Pots was the first love that ever I had, 
 And I do mean him the last to be. 
 
 With that lord Phenix soon was mov'd, 
 
 Towards the lady did he threat, 
 He told her father, and so it was prov'd, 35 
 
 How his daughters mind was set. 
 
 O daughter dear, thou art my own, 
 
 The heir of all my lands to be, 
 Thou shalt be bride to the lord Phenix 
 
 If that thou mean to be heir to me. 
 
THE LOVERS QUARREL. 47 
 
 O father dear, I am your own, 
 
 And at your command I needs must be, 
 
 But bind my body to whom you please, 
 My heart, Tom Pots, shall go with thee. 
 
 Alas ! the lady her fondness must leave, 45 
 And all her foolish wooing lay aside, 
 
 The time is come, her friends have appointed, 
 That she must be lord Phenix bride. 
 
 With that the lady began to weep, 
 She knew not well then what to say, 50 
 
 How she might lord Phenix deny, 
 
 And escape from marriage quite away. 
 
 She call'd unto her little foot-page, 
 Saying, I can trust none but thee, 
 
 Go carry Tom Pots this letter fair, 55 
 
 And bid him on Guildford-green meet me : 
 
 For I must marry against my mind, 
 Or in faith well proved it shall be ; 
 
 And tell to him I am loving and kind, 
 
 And wishes him this wedding to see. 60 
 
 But see that thou note his countenance well, 
 And his colour, and shew it to me ; 
 
 And go thy way and high thee again, 
 And forty shillings I will give thee. 
 
 For if he smile now with his lips, 65 
 
 His stomach will give him to laugh at the 
 
 Then may I seek another true love, [heart, 
 For of Tom Pots small is my part. 
 
48 THE LOVERS QUARREL. 
 
 But if he blush now in his face, 
 
 Then in his heart he will sorry be, 70 
 
 Then to his vow he hath some grace, 
 
 And false to him I'le never be. 
 
 Away this lacky boy he ran, 
 
 And a full speed forsooth went he, 
 
 Till he came to Strawberry-castle, 75 
 
 And there Tom Pots came he to see. 
 
 He gave him the letter in his hand, 
 
 Before that he began to read, 
 He told him plainly by word of mouth, 
 
 His love was forc'd to be lord Phenix bride. 80 
 
 When he look'd on the letter fair, 
 
 The salt tears blemished his eye, 
 Says, I cannot read this letter fair, 
 
 Nor never a word to see or spy. 
 
 My little boy be to me true, 85 
 
 Here is five marks I will give thee, 
 
 And all these words I must peruse, 
 And tell my lady this from me : 
 
 By faith and troth she is my own, 
 
 By some part of promise, so it's to be found, 90 
 Lord Phcenix shall not have her night nor clay, 
 
 Except he can win her with his own hand. 
 
 On Guildford-green I will her meet, 
 Say that I wish her for me to pray, 
 
 For there I'le lose my life so sweet, 95 
 
 Or else the wedding I mean to stay. 
 
THE LOVERS QUARREL. 49 
 
 Away this lackey- boy he ran, 
 
 Then as fast as he could hie, 
 The lady she met him two miles of the way, 
 
 Says, why hast thou staid so long, my boy ? loo 
 
 My little boy, thou art but young, 
 
 It gives me at heart thou'l mock and scorn, 
 
 lie not believe thee by word of mouth, 
 Unless on this book thou wilt be sworn. 
 
 Now by this book, the boy did say, 105 
 
 And Jesus Christ be as true to me, 
 Tom Pots could not read the letter fair, 
 
 Nor never a word to spy or see. 
 
 He says, by faith and troth you are his own, 
 By some part of promise, so it's to be found, 1 10 
 
 Lord Phenix shall not have you night nor day, 
 Except he win you with his own hand. 
 
 On Guildford-green he will you meet, 
 
 He wishes you for him to pray, 
 For there he'l lose his life so sweet, 115 
 
 Or else the wedding he means to stay. 
 
 If this be true, my little boy, 
 These tidings which thou tellest to me, 
 
 Forty shillings I did thee promise, 
 
 Here is ten pounds I will give thee. 120 
 
 My maidens all, the lady said, 
 
 That ever wish me well to prove, 
 Now let us all kneel down and pray, 
 
 That Tommy Pots may win his love. 
 
50 THE LOVERS QUARREL. 
 
 If it be his fortune the better to win, 125 
 
 As I pray to Christ in trinity, 
 He make him the flower of all his kin, 
 
 For the young lord Arundel he shall be. 
 
 THE SECOND PART. 
 
 LET's leave talking of this lady fair, 
 In prayers full good where she may be, 130 
 Now let us talk of Tommy Pots, 
 
 To his lord and master for aid went he. 
 
 But when he came lord Jockey before, 
 
 He kneeled lowly on his knee, 
 What news ? what news ? thou Tommy Pots, 135 
 
 Thou art so full of courtesie. 
 
 What tydings ? what tydings ? thou Tommy Pots, 
 
 Thou art so full of courtesie ; 
 Thou hast slain some of thy fellows fair, 
 
 Or wrought to me some villany. 140 
 
 I have slain none of my fellows fair, 
 
 Nor wrought to you no villany, 
 But I have a love in Scotland fair, 
 
 And I fear I shall lose her with poverty. 
 
 If you'l not believe me by word of mouth, 145 
 
 But read this letter, and you shall see, 
 
 Here by all these suspitious words 
 That she her own self hath sent to me. 
 
THE LOVERS QUARREL. 51 
 
 But when he had read the letter fair, 
 
 Of all the suspitious words in it might be, 150 
 
 Tommy Pots, take thou no care, 
 Thou'st never lose her with poverty. 
 
 For thou'st have forty pounds a week, 
 
 In gold and silver thou shalt row, 
 And Harvy town I will give thee, 155 
 
 As long as thou intend'st to wooe. 
 
 Thou'st have forty of thy fellows fair, 
 
 And forty horses to go with thee, 
 Forty of the best spears I have, 
 
 And I myself in thy company. 1 60 
 
 1 thank you, master, said Tommy Pots, 
 
 That proffer is too good for me ; 
 
 But, if Jesus Christ stand on my side, 
 
 My own hands shall set her free. 
 
 God be with you, master, said Tommy Pots, 165 
 Now Jesus Christ you save and see ; 
 
 If ever I come alive again, 
 Staid the wedding it shall be. 
 
 O god be your speed, thou Tommy Pots, 
 
 Thou art well proved for a man, 170 
 
 See never a drop of blood thou spil, 
 Nor yonder gentleman confound. 
 
 See that some truce with him thou take, 
 
 And appoint a place of liberty ; 
 Let him provide him as well as he can, 175 
 
 As well provided thou shalt be. 
 
;2 THE LOVERS QUARREL. 
 
 But when he came to Guildford-green, 
 And there had walkt a little aside, 
 
 There he was ware of lord Phenix come, 
 And lady Rosamond his bride. 1 80 
 
 Away by the bride then Tommy Pots went, 
 But never a word to her he did say, 
 
 Till he the lord Phenix came before, 
 He gave him the right time of the day. 
 
 O welcome, welcome, thou Tommy Pots, 185 
 Thou serving-man of low degree, 
 
 How doth thy lord and master at home, 
 And all the ladies in that country ? 
 
 My lord and master is in good health, 
 
 I trust since that I did him see ; 190 
 
 Will you walk with me to an out-side, 
 Two or three words to talk with me ? 
 
 You are a noble man, said Tom, 
 And born a lord in Scotland free, 
 
 You may have ladies enough at home, 195 
 And never take my love from me. 
 
 Away, away, thou Tommy Pots, 
 Thou serving-man stand thou aside ; 
 
 It is not a serving-man this day, 
 That can hinder me of my bride. 200 
 
 If I be a serving-man, said Tom, 
 
 And you a lord of high degree, 
 A spear or two with you I'le run, 
 
 Before I'le lose her cowardly. 
 
THE LOVERS QUARREL. 53 
 
 Appoint a place, I will thee meet, 205 
 
 Appoint a place of liberty, 
 For there I'le lose my life so sweet, 
 
 Or else my lady I'le set free. 
 
 On Guildford-green I will thee meet, 
 
 No man nor boy shall come with me. 210 
 
 As I am a man, said Tommy Pots, 
 I'le have as few in my company. 
 
 And thus staid the marriage was, 
 
 The bride unmarried went home again, 
 
 Then to her maids fast did she laugh, 215 
 And in her heart she was full fain. 
 
 My maidens all, the lady said, 
 
 That ever wait on me this day, 
 Now let us all kneel down, 
 
 And for Tommy Pots let us all pray. 220 
 
 If it be his fortune the better to win, 
 
 As I trust to God in trinity, 
 He make him the flower of all his kin, 
 
 For the young lord Arundel he shall be. 
 
54 THE LOVERS QUARREL. 
 
 THE THIRD PART. 
 
 WHEN Tom Pots came home again, 225 
 To try for his love he had but a week, 
 For sorrow, god wot, he need not care, 
 For four days that he fol sick. 
 
 With that his master to him came, [doubt, 
 Says, pray thee, Tom Pots, tell me if thou 
 
 Whether thou hast gotten thy gay lady, 231 
 Or thou must go thy love without. 
 
 master, yet it is unknown, 
 
 Within these two days well try'd it must be, 
 He is a lord, I am but a serving man, 235 
 I fear I shall lose her with poverty. 
 
 1 prethee, Tom Pots, get thee on thy feet, 
 My former promises kept shall be ; 
 
 As I am a lord in Scotland fair, 
 
 Thou'st never lose her with poverty. 240 
 
 For thou'st have the half of my lands a year, 
 And that will raise thee many a pound, 
 
 Before thou shalt out-braved be, 
 
 Thou shalt drop angels with him on the ground. 
 
 I thank you, master, said Tommy Pots, 245 
 Yet there is one thing of you I would fain, 
 
 If that I lose my lady sweet, 
 
 How I'st restore your goods again ? 
 
THE LOVERS QUARREL. 55 
 
 If that thou win the lady sweet, 
 
 Thou mayst well forth thou shalt pay me, 250 
 If thou loosest thy lady thou losest enough, 
 
 Thou shalt not pay me one penny. 
 
 You have thirty horses in one close, 
 You keep them all both frank and free, 
 
 Amongst them all there's an old white horse 25 5 
 This day would set my lady free ; 
 
 That is an old horse with a cut tail, 
 
 Full sixteen years of age is he ; 
 If thou wilt lend me that old horse, 
 
 Then could I win her easily. 260 
 
 That's a foolish opinion, his master said, 
 And a foolish opinion thou tak'st to thee ; 
 
 Thou'st have a better then ever he was, 
 Though forty pounds more it should cost me. 
 
 O your choice horses are wild and tough, 265 
 And little they can skill of their train ; 
 
 If I be out of my saddle cast, 
 
 They are so wild they'l ne'r be tain. 
 
 Thou'st have that horse, his master said, 270 
 If that one thing thou wilt me tell ; 
 
 Why that horse is better then any other, 
 I pray thee Tom Pots shew thou to me. 
 
 That horse is old, of stomach bold, 
 
 And well can he skill of his train, 275 
 
 If I be out of my saddle cast, 
 
 He'l either stand still, or turn again. 
 
56 THE LOVERS QUARREL. 
 
 Thou'st have the horse with all my heart, 
 And my plate coat of silver free, 
 
 An hundred men to stand at thy back, 280 
 To fight if he thy master be. 
 
 I thank you master, said Tommy Pots, 
 That proffer is too good for me, 
 
 I would not for ten thousand pounds 
 
 Have man or boy in my company. 285 
 
 God be with you, master, said Tommy Pots, 
 
 Now as you are a man of law, 
 One thing let me crave at your hand, 
 
 Let never a one of my fellows know. 
 
 For if that my fellows they did wot, 290 
 
 Or ken of my extremity, 
 Except you keep them under a lock, 
 
 Behind me I am sure they would not be. 
 
 But when he came to Guildford-green, 
 
 He waited hours two or three, 295 
 
 There he was ware of lord Phenix come, 
 And four men in his company. 
 
 You have broken your vow, said Tommy Pots, 
 The vow which you did make to me, 
 
 You said you would bring neither man nor boy, 
 
 And now has brought more than two or 
 
 three. 301 
 
 These are my men, lord Phenix said, 
 "Which every day do wait on me ; 
 
 If any of these dare proffer to strike, 
 
 Tie run my spear through his body. 305 
 
THE LOVERS QUARREL. 57 
 
 I'le run no race now, said Tommy Pots, 
 
 Except now this may be, 
 If either of us be slain this day, 
 
 The other shall forgiven be. 
 
 Tie make that vow with all my heart, 310 
 My men shall bear witness with me ; 
 
 And if thou slay me here this day, 
 
 In Scotland worse belov'd thou never shalt be. 
 
 They turn'd their horses thrice about, 
 
 To run the race so eagerly ; 315 
 
 Lord Phenix he was fierce and stout, 
 
 And ran Tom Pots through the thick o' th' 
 thigh. 
 
 He bor'd him out of the saddle fair, 
 Down to the ground so sorrowfully. 
 
 For the loss of my life I do not care, 320 
 
 But for the loss of my fair lady. 
 
 Now for the loss of my lady sweet, 
 
 Which once I thought to have been my wife, 
 
 I pray thee, lord Phenix, ride not away, 
 For with thee I would end my life. 325 
 
 Tom Pots was but a serving-man, 
 
 But yet he was a doctor good, 
 He bound his handkerchief on his wound, 
 
 And with some kind of words he stancht his 
 blood *. 
 
 * i.e. he made use of a charm for that purpose. 
 
58 THE LOVERS QUARREL. 
 
 He leapt into his saddle again, 330 
 
 The blood in his body began to warm, 
 
 He mist lord Phenix body fair, 
 And ran him through the brawn of the arm : 
 
 He bor'd him out of his saddle fair, 
 
 Down to the ground most sorrowfully ; 335 
 
 Says, prethee, lord Phenix, rise up and fight, 
 
 Or yield my lady unto me. 
 
 Now for to fight I cannot tell, 
 
 And for to fight I am not sure ; 
 Thou hast run me throw the brawn o' the arm, 340 
 
 That with a spear I may not endure. 
 
 Thou'st have the lady with all my heart, 
 
 It was never likely better to prove 
 With me, or any nobleman else 
 
 That would hinder a poor man of his love. 345 
 
 Seeing you say so much, said Tommy Pots, 
 
 I will not seem your butcher to be, 
 But I will come and stanch your blood, 
 
 If any thing you will give me. 
 
 As he did stanch lord Phenix blood, 350 
 
 Lord ! in his heart he did rejoice ; 
 I'le not take the lady from you thus, 
 
 But of her you'st have another choice. 
 
 Here is a lane of two miles long, 
 
 At either end we set will be, 355 
 
 The lady shall stand us among, 
 
 Her own choice shall set he-r free. 
 
THE LOVERS QUARREL. 59 
 
 If thou'l do so, lord Phenix said, 
 
 To lose her by her own choice it's honesty, 
 Chuse whether I get her or go her without, 360 
 
 Forty pounds I will give thee. 
 
 But when they in that lane was set, 
 
 The wit of a woman for to prove, 
 By the faith of my body, the lady said, 
 
 Then Tom Pots must needs have his love. 365 
 
 Towards Tom Pots the lady did hie, 
 
 To get on behind him hastily ; 
 Nay stay, nay stay, lord Phenix said, 
 
 Better proved it shall be. 
 
 Stay you with your maidens here, 370 
 
 In number fair they are but three ; 
 
 Tom Pots and I will go behind yonder wall, 
 That one of us two be proved to dye. 
 
 But when they came behind the wall, 
 
 The one came not the other nigh, 375 
 
 For the lord Phenix had made a vow, 
 That with Tom Pots he would never fight. 
 
 O give me this choice, lord Phenix said, 
 To prove whether true or false she be, 
 
 And I will go to the lady fair, 380 
 
 And tell her Tom Pots slain is he. 
 
 When he came from behind the wall, 
 With his face all bloody as it might be, 
 
 O lady sweet, thou art my own, 
 
 For Tom Pots slain is he. 385 
 
60 THE LOVERS QUARREL. 
 
 Now have I slain him, Tommy Pots, 
 
 And given him deaths wounds two or three ; 
 
 O lady sweet, thou art my own, 
 
 Of all loves, wilt thou live with me ? 
 
 If thou hast slain him, Tommy Pots, 390 
 And given him deaths wounds two or three, 
 
 lie sell the state of my fathers lands, 
 But hanged shall lord Phenix be. 
 
 With that the lady fell in a swound, 
 
 For a grieved woman, god wot, was she ; 395 
 
 Lord Phenix he was ready then, 
 To take her up so hastily. 
 
 O lady sweet, stand thou on thy feet, 
 Tom Pots alive this day may be ; 
 
 Tie send for thy father, lord Arundel, 400 
 And he and I the wedding will see : 
 
 lie send for thy father, lord Arundel, 
 And he and I the wedding will see ; 
 
 If he will not maintain you well, 
 
 Both lands and livings you'st have of me. 405 
 
 lie see this wedding, lord Arundel said, 
 Of my daughters luck that is so fair, 
 
 Seeing the matter will be no better, 
 
 Of all my lands Tom Pots shall be the heir. 
 
 With that the lady began for to smile, 410 
 For a glad woman, god wot, was she ; 
 
 Now all my maids, the lady said, 
 Example you may take by me. 
 
THE LOVERS QUARREL. 61 
 
 But all the ladies of Scotland fair, 
 
 And lasses of England, that well would 
 prove, 4*5 
 
 Neither marry for gold nor goods, 
 
 Nor marry for nothing but only love : 
 
 For I had a lover true of my own, 
 
 A serving-man of low degree ; 
 Now from Tom Pots I'le change his name, 420 
 
 For the young lord Arundel he shall be. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 ABRAIDE, The word, at 
 seems to be wanting: 
 At a braide ; at a push ; 
 at a start. It may, how- 
 ever ; only mean, abroad. 
 
 Adrad, afraid. 
 
 Algatys, by all means. 
 
 Among, between. 
 
 Amonge, at the same time. 
 
 And, an, if. 
 
 Apayde, satisfyed, con- 
 tented. 
 
 Are. Goddys are, Gods heir 
 or son, i.e. Jesus Christ, 
 who is also God himself. 
 
 Array, dress, clothing. 
 
 Arrayed, freighted, fur- 
 nished. 
 
 Assay, assaye, essay, try ; 
 try, prove. 
 
 Assoyld, absolved. 
 
 A twyn, asunder. 
 
 Auaunced, advanced, pre- 
 fered. 
 
 Auowe, a vow, an oath. 
 
 Awyse. 
 
 Ayenst, against. 
 
 Bale, misery i sorrow, evil. 
 
 Bargan, business, commis- 
 sion. 
 
 Barker, a tanner, so called 
 from his using bark. 
 
 Bedys, beads. 
 
 Belyfe, belyue, im:ne- 
 diately. 
 
 Bescro, beshrew, curse. 
 
 Besett, laid out, bestowed. 
 
 Bestadde, situated, placed. 
 
 Bett, better. Ware hytt 
 bett, lay it out to more 
 advantage. 
 
 Bil, bill, an old English 
 weapon,calledafew lines 
 before ll a pollajce." 
 
 Blee, colour, complexion. 
 
 Blynne, stop^ cease, give 
 over. 
 
 Blythe, blyue, blithe, with 
 spirit. 
 
 Boltes, arrows. 
 
 Bor, born. 
 
 Bord, borde, jest. 
 
 Borowe, bail, redeem, be- 
 come pledges for. 
 
 Bote, boot, remedy, ad- 
 vantage. 
 
66 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Bowne, boon, favour. 
 
 Braste, burst. 
 
 Brede, bread. 
 
 Bren, brenne, burn. 
 
 Brent, burnt. 
 
 Brest, burst, broke. 
 
 Brochys, ornamental pins, 
 or buckles, like the Roman 
 fibulae, (with a single 
 Prong) for the breast or 
 head-dress. 
 
 Bundyn. 
 
 Buske, busked, addressed, 
 Prepared, got ready. 
 
 Bywayt. 
 
 Chaste, chastise, correct. 
 
 Chaunce. Redy the justice 
 for to chaunce. This 
 whole line seems a non- 
 sensical interpolation. 
 
 Cheke, choaked. 
 
 Chery fare. 
 
 Clennesse, cleanness^ chas- 
 
 _ **'& 
 
 Clerk, scholar. 
 
 Cleynt, chtng. 
 
 Clyppyng, embracing. 
 
 Comand, commanded, 
 ordered. 
 
 Combre, inctimber, be too 
 many for. 
 
 Corage, heart, spirit, in- 
 clination, disposition. 
 
 Curtes, courteous. 
 
 Dame, mistress. Oure 
 dameys peny. Our mis- 
 tress's penny. 
 
 Dampned, condemned. 
 
 Den, grave. 
 
 Dere, hurt. 
 
 Dern, secret. 
 
 Do gladly, eat heartyly. 
 
 Doluyn, delved, buryed. 
 
 Dongeon, prison. The 
 prison in old castles was 
 generally Tinder-ground. 
 
 Dradde, dreaded, feared. 
 
 Drede,fear y doubt. 
 
 Drewre. The word pro- 
 perly signified love, court- 
 ship, &c. and hence a 
 love-token, or love-gift ; 
 in which sense it is used 
 by Bp. Douglas. 
 
 Drough, dmv. 
 
 Dyd of, piit off. 
 
 Dyd on, put on. 
 
 Euerechone, everichone, 
 euerychone, every one. 
 
 Eyre, heir, 
 
 Eysell, vinegar. 
 
 Fadur, father ; his fadur 
 eyre, his father's heir. 
 
 Fare, go. 
 
 Fauell, deceit. See Skeltoris 
 Bowge of Cotirte. The 
 meaning of the text is 
 nevertheless still obsc^ire, 
 thoiigh it should seem to 
 be the origin of our 
 modern phrase to curry 
 favour. 
 
 Fay, teyt, faith. 
 
 Fayne,/tfz, glad. 
 
 Feble, febull, febyll, poor, 
 wretched, miserable. 
 
 Feche, fetch. 
 
 Feffe, enfeof. 
 
 Fere, wife, husband, lover, 
 friend. 
 
 Fet, fit, part, canto. 
 
 Feyt,/z'M. 
 
 Flyt, shift. 
 
 Folys, fools. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 67 
 
 Fofn, fome, sea. 
 
 Fond, endeavour, try* 
 
 Fone, foes. 
 
 Forbode, commandment. 
 Ouer Gods forbode. 
 [Praeter Dei praeceptum 
 sit.] q.d. God forbid. 
 (PERCY.) 
 
 Fordo, undo, ruin, destroy. 
 
 Forth. 
 
 Forthozt, thought of, re- 
 membered. 
 
 Forthynketh, grieveth, 
 vexeth. 
 
 Fosters, foresters. 
 
 Fote,/<*tf. 
 
 Found, supported^ main- 
 tained. 
 
 Freke, fellow. 
 
 Froo, from. 
 
 Fy t, fy tt, fit, part, canto. 
 
 Fytte, strain. 
 
 God, goods, merchandize. 
 
 Godamarsey, a corruption 
 of gramercy. See gra- 
 marcy. 
 
 Gode, goods, property. 
 
 Goo, gone. 
 
 Goon, go. 
 
 Gramarcy, thanks, grand 
 mercie. 
 
 Greece. Hart of Greece. 
 
 Gryse, a species of fur. 
 
 Gyse, way, manner, method. 
 
 Harowed, ravaged, ran- 
 sacked. Christ went 
 through hell as a con- 
 queror, and plundered 
 it of all the souls he 
 thought worth carrying 
 off. 
 
 Hatche, a low or half door. 
 
 Hedur, hither. 
 
 Hele, health. 
 
 Hem, him. 
 
 Hende, civil, gentle. 
 
 Hente, take. 
 
 Hes, his. 
 
 Het, it. 
 
 Hie, go, run. 
 
 High, hyc, come, hasten, 
 return speedily. 
 
 Hight, was called. 
 
 Honge, hang, be hanged. 
 
 Howr, our. 
 
 Howyn, own. 
 
 Hye, go. 
 
 Hyght, promised. 
 
 Hyne, a hind is a servant. 
 
 Kele, cool. 
 
 Kneen, knees. 
 
 Kynd, nature. 
 
 Lagh, laugh. 
 
 Laghing, laughing. 
 
 Lante, lent. 
 
 Launde, plain, open part 
 of a forest. 
 
 Leace, lyes, lying, doubt. 
 
 Leasynge, lying, falsehood, 
 doubt. 
 
 Lee, plain, open field. 
 
 Lefe, agreeable, that is the 
 lefe, that is so dear to 
 thee ; whom thou art w 
 fond of, dear, or beloved. 
 Be hym lefe, or be hym 
 lothe. Let him like it 
 or not ; let him be Agree- 
 able or unwilling. 
 
 Leffe, leave. 
 
 Leman, lemman, mistress, 
 concubine, lover, gallant, 
 paramour. 
 
 Lene, lend. 
 
68 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Lenger, longer. 
 
 Lere, learn. 
 
 Lesynge, lying, falsehood. 
 
 Lette, delay. Lette not 
 for this, be not hindered 
 or prevented by what has 
 happened from proceed- 
 ing. 
 
 Letteth, let, hinder, pre- 
 vent. 
 
 Leue, believe. 
 
 Leuer, rather, sooner. 
 
 Lewde, foolish. 
 
 Lightile, quickly. 
 
 Linde, the linden or lime 
 tree ; a tree in general. 
 
 Lith, incline, attend. 
 
 Lordeyne, fellow. Not, as 
 foolishly supposed, from 
 Lord Dane, but from 
 lourdin or falourdin, 
 French. 
 
 Lordyngys, &c., sirs, mas- 
 ters, gentlemen. 
 
 Lore, doctrine. 
 
 Lough, laugh, laughed. 
 
 Loves. Of all loves, an 
 adjuration frequently 
 used by Shakspeare and 
 contemporary ivriters. 
 
 Low, laughed. 
 
 Lowde and stylle, windy 
 and calm ; fo ul and fair; 
 i.e. in all seasons ; at 
 all times. 
 
 Lowhe, laughed. 
 
 Lowsed, let go, ktfly. 
 
 Lust, desire, inclination. 
 
 Lyghtly, &c., lyghtlye, 
 q^lickly, nimbly. 
 
 Lynde. See linde. 
 
 Lyst, inclination, desire. 
 
 Lystenyth, listen. 
 
 Lyte, little. 
 
 Lyue, life. 
 
 Masers, drinking cups. 
 
 Maugre, in spite of. 
 
 Maugref, mawgrefe,z77-w;7/. 
 
 Maystry. More maystry, 
 something in a more 
 masterly or capital stile ; 
 a still cleverer thing. 
 
 Mede, meed, reward. 
 
 Menyvere, a sort of fur. 
 
 Mestoret, needed. 
 
 Met, -meet, meted, mea- 
 sured. 
 
 Metelesse, meatless, with- 
 out meat. 
 
 Meyny, assembly, multi- 
 tude. 
 
 Mo, more. 
 
 Mote, might ; may. 
 
 M ought, might. 
 
 hlyn\\zs,pleasant passages, 
 merry adventures. 
 
 Nar, nor, than. 
 
 Nete, cows, horned cattle. 
 
 Neys, nice, fine. 
 
 Nones, occasion. 
 
 Nowchys of golde, orna- 
 ments for a woman's 
 dress; but not certain 
 whether necklaces or 
 hair pins. 
 
 Nygromancere, necroman- 
 cer. 
 
 Offycyal, &c., the com- 
 missary or judge of a 
 bishop's cotirt. 
 
 On dedyn, undid, untyed. 
 
 On lyue, alive. 
 
 Oon. Not at oon, not at 
 one, not friends. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 Ordynaunce, enjoined or 
 regTilar practice. 
 
 Other, either. 
 
 Out home, summoning 
 horn, horn blown (as if 
 to arms) in time of 
 danger. 
 
 Paramour, paramowre, mis- 
 tress, concubine. 
 
 Parand. His parand and 
 his heir, his heir ap- 
 parent. My heir and 
 parand, my heir appa- 
 rent. 
 
 Pay, satisfaction. 
 
 Pees, Peace, pardon. 
 
 Perry, jewels, precious 
 stones. 
 
 Plyght, pledge, give. 
 
 Plyzt, plight, condition. 
 
 Prece, inprece, in a press, 
 in a croud, in a throng. 
 
 Preced, pressed, thronged; 
 pressed forward. 
 
 Preker, rider. 
 
 Prekyd, rode up; rode. 
 
 Prestly, readyly, q^lickly. 
 
 Preue, prove. 
 
 Pryme, morning; " The 
 first quarter of the ar- 
 tificial day." (TYR- 
 WHITT.) 
 
 Pyne, pain, torment. 
 
 Quarel, cause, suit. 
 
 Quest, inquest, jury. 
 
 Quod, quoth, said. 
 
 Quyte, quit, pay, dis- 
 charge. 
 
 Rech, reck, care for. 
 
 Rede, advice, counsel ; ad- 
 vise. 
 
 Reme\v, remove. 
 
 Renne, run. 
 
 Reresoperys, after-suppers. 
 
 Rewth, ruth, pity. 
 
 Rode, rood, cross. 
 
 Ryall, royal, magnificent. 
 
 Rysed, raised, caused to 
 rise. 
 
 Saffe, save. 
 
 Safurs, sapphires. 
 
 Same. All in same. 
 
 Saye, saw. 
 
 Sayne, say. 
 
 Schrewe, shrew, wicked or 
 cursed one. 
 
 Scredely, shrewdly. 
 
 Se, seen ; see, regard, su- 
 perintend, keep in sight. 
 
 Sen, since. 
 
 Sesse. Feffe and sesse, 
 enfeof and seise, sub. 
 in house or land. 
 
 Sheene. 
 
 Shent. Make officers shent, 
 cause them to be repri- 
 manded. 
 
 Shete, shoot. 
 
 Shot window, a window 
 that opens and sliuts. 
 
 Shrewe, wicked or cursed 
 one. 
 
 Slawe, slain. 
 
 Smotley, pleasantly. 
 
 Sompnere, stimmoner or 
 apparitor ; an officer 
 who serves the sum- 
 monses or citations of 
 the spiritual court. See 
 Chaucer's Canterbury 
 Tales. 
 
 Sothe, truth. 
 
 Sowne, sound. 
 
 Soyt, soth, sooth, truth. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 Sper, spyrre, ask, enquire. 
 
 Spercles, sparks (of fire). 
 
 Spycere, spices. 
 
 State, estate. 
 
 Stere, steer, rule, govern. 
 
 Sterte, started Jlew. Sterte 
 in the waye, started, 
 rushed hastily, flew into 
 the street. 
 
 Store, strong ; value. 
 
 Stound, hour, time. 
 
 Stowre, fight. 
 
 Stynte, stay. 
 
 Suspitious, significant. 
 
 Sweythyli, swiftly. 
 
 Syke, sigh. 
 
 Syth, since. 
 
 Tan, taken. 
 
 Tane, take. 
 
 Teene, grief, sorrow. 
 
 Tempre, correct, manage. 
 
 Tent, heed. 
 
 The, thrive. 
 
 Tho, then. 
 
 1'hrong, ran. 
 
 To, two. 
 
 Trate, trot, hag. 
 
 Trew mannys lyfe, the life 
 of an honest man. 
 
 Trewe man, honest man. 
 
 Tyrsty, trusty. 
 
 Undurnome, taken up, re- 
 ceived, or entertained 
 (as a notion). 
 
 Undurzode, understood. 
 
 Unnethes, scarcely. 
 
 Verament, truly. 
 
 Villany, mischief, injury. 
 
 Vowsed. 
 
 Voyded, avoided,withdrew, 
 wade off, got out of the 
 way. 
 
 Vylany, mischief, injury. 
 Vyleus, vile, villainous, 
 
 shameful. 
 Waran, warn. 
 Ware, expend, lay out. 
 Ware, purchase. 
 Warne, prevent, hinder. 
 Wede, coat, cloak, dress, 
 
 attire, clothing. 
 Weke. Thy furst weke, at 
 
 thy first waking; as 
 
 soon as thou wakest. 
 Wend, go. 
 
 Wende, weened, thought. 
 Were. 
 
 Wet, wete, know. 
 Wight, strong. 
 Wis, think, take it. 
 Wode, mad. 
 Wone, hesitation. 
 Wood, mad. 
 Wost, wotest, knowest. 
 Wreste, turn. Wreste it 
 
 all amysse ; turn it the 
 
 wrong way : a metaphor 
 
 from tuning the harp. 
 Wreth. 
 
 Wyght, strong. 
 Wyle,y^z'/, device, trick. 
 Wynde, wend, go. 
 Wynke, sleep. 
 Wynne, earn, get; get, 
 
 come. 
 Wyrche, work, conduct thy- 
 
 self. 
 
 Wys, trow, think. 
 Wyste, knew, was aware. 
 Wyt, know. 
 Wyte, blame. 
 Wytt, know. Do the wele 
 
 to wy tt, let thee perfectly 
 
 know. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 Y, &c., 7. Yslaw, slain. 
 
 Y do, done. Ywys, / trow, I know. 
 
 Yede, went. Zarn, yam. 
 
 Yeffe, if. Ze, ye. 
 
 Yeffor, ever. Zerde, rod. 
 
 Yong men, yonge men, Zere, years. 
 
 Yeomen. See Spelmanni Zeyr day. 
 
 Glossarium, vv. Juniores, Zonge, young. 
 
 Yeoman. Zyt, yet. 
 
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