[The interview of Vortigern with Rowen, the beautiful Daughter of Hengist.]

Hengist that day did his might,
That all were glad, king and knight.
And as they were best in glading,
And well cup-shotten,1 knight and king,
Of chamber Rowenen so gent,
Before the king in hall she went.
A cup with wine she had in hand,
And her attire was well farand.2
Before the king on knee set,
And in her language she him gret3
'Laverd king, wassail!' said she.
The king asked, What should be.
On that language the king ne couth 5
A knight her language lerid in youth,
Bregh hight that knight, born Breton,
That lerid the language of Saxon.
This Bregh was the latimer, 6
What she said told Vortiger.
'Sir,' Bregh said, 'Rowen you greets,
And king calls and lord you leets.7
This is their custom and their gest,
When they are at the ale or feast,
Ilk man that loves where him think,
Shall say, Wassail/ and to him drink.
He that bids shall say, Wassail!
The tother shall say again, Drinkhail!
That says Wassail drinks of the cup,
Kissing his fellow he gives it up.
Drinkhail he says, and drinks thereof,
Kissing him in bourd and skof.'
The king said, as the knight gan ken,8
'Drinkhail,' smiling on Rowenen.
Rowen drank as her list,9

And gave the king, syne him kissed.
There was the first wassail in dede,
And that first of fame gaed.10

Of that wassail men told great tale,
And wassail when they were at ale,
And drinkhail to them that drank,
Thus was wassail ta'en to thank.
Fell sithesll that maiden ying
Wassailed and kissed the king.
Of body she was right avenant,
Of fair colour with sweet semblant.
Her attire full well it seemed,
Mervelik the king she queemed.12
Of our measure was he glad,
For of that maiden he wax all mad.
Drunkenness the fiend wrought,
Of that paen 13 was all his thought.
A mischance that time him led,
He asked that paen for to wed.
Hengist would not draw o lite,
Bot granted him all so tite.
And Hors his brother consented soon.
Her friends said, it were to done.

They asked the king to give her Kent,
In dowery to take of rent.

Upon that maiden his heart was cast;
That they asked the king made fast.
I ween the king took her that day,
And wedded her on paen's lay.14

Nothing is to man so dear
As woman's love in good manner.
A good woman is man's bliss,
Where her love right and stedfast is.
There is no solace under heaven,
Of all that a man may neven,4
That should a man s0 much glew,5 gle
As a good woman that loveth true :
Ne dearer is none in God's hurd,6
Than a chaste woman with lovely wurd.

ENGLISH METRICAL ROMANCES.

HE rise of Romantic Fiction in Europe has been traced to the most opposite quarters; namely, to the Arabians and to the Scandinavians. It has also been disputed, whether a politer kind of poetical literature was first cultivated in Normandy or in Provence. Without entering into these perplex

ing questions, it may be

enough to state, that romantic fiction appears to have been cultivated from the eleventh century downwards, both by the troubadours of Provence and by the Norman poets, of whom some account has already been given. As also already hinted, a class of persons had arisen, named Joculators, Jongleurs, or Minstrels, whose business it was to wander about from one mansion to another, recit

Belin well held his honour,

And wisely was good governor.

1 Well advanced in convivialities.

• Of good appearance. This phrase is still used in Scotland.

persons, with the accompaniment of the harp. The histories and chronicles, already spoken of, partook largely of the character of these romantic tales, and were hawked about in the same manner. Brutus, the supposed son of Eneas of Troy, and who is described in those histories as the founder of the English state, was as much a hero of romance

Breadthways.

1 Went.

• Broke, destroyed. • Family.

1

as of history. Even where a really historical person was adopted as a subject, such as Rollo of Normandy, or Charlemagne, his life was so amplified with romantic adventure, that it became properly a work of fiction. This, it must be remembered, was an age remarkable for a fantastic military spirit: it was the age of chivalry and of the crusades, when men saw such deeds of heroism and self-devotion daily performed before their eyes, that nothing which could be imagined of the past was too extravagant to appear destitute of the feasibility demanded in fiction. As might be expected from the ignorance of the age, no attempt was made to surround the heroes with the circumstances proper to their time or country. Alexander the Great, Arthur, and Roland, were all alike depicted as knights of the time of the poet himself. The basis of many of these metrical tales is supposed to have been certain collections of stories and histories compiled by the monks of the middle ages, Materials for the superstructure were readily found in an age when anecdotes and apologues were thought very necessary even to discourses from the puipit, and when all the fables that could be gleaned from ancient writings, or from the relations of travellers, were collected into story books, and preserved by the learned for that purpose.' *

It was not till the English language had risen into some consideration, that it became a vehicle for romantic metrical tales. One composition of the kind, entitled Sir Tristrem, published by Sir Walter Scott in 1804, was believed by him, upon what he thought tolerable evidence, to be the composition of Thomas of Ercildoun, identical with a person noted in Scottish tradition under the appellation of Thomas the Rhymer, who lived at Earlston in Berwickshire, and died shortly before 1299. If this had been the case, Sir Tristrem must have been considered a production of the middle or latter part of the thirteenth century. But the soundness of Sir Walter's theory is now generally denied. Another English romance, the Life of Alexander the Great, was attributed by Mr Warton to Adam Davie, marshall of Stratfordle-Bow, who lived about 1312; but this, also, has been controverted. One only, King Horn, can be assigned with certainty to the latter part of the thirteenth century. Mr Warton has placed some others under that period, but by conjecture alone; and in fact dates and the names of authors are alike wanting at the beginning of the history of this class of compositions. As far as probability goes, the reign of Edward II. (1307-27) may be set down as the era of the earlier English metrical romances, or rather of the earlier English versions of such works from the French, for they were, almost without exception, of that nature.

Sir Guy, the Squire of Low Degree, Sir Degore, King Robert of Sicily, the King of Tars, Impomedon, and La Mort Artur, are the names of some from which Mr Warton gives copious extracts. Others, probably of later date, or which at least were long after popular, are entitled Sir Thopas, Sir Isenbras, Gawan and Gologras, and Sir Bevis. In an Essay on the Ancient Metrical Romances, in the second volume of Dr Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, the names of many more, with an account of some of them, and a prose abstract of one en

! titled Sir Libius, are given. Mr Ellis has also, in his Metrical Romances, given prose abstracts of I many, with some of the more agreeable passages. The metrical romances flourished till the close of the fifteenth century, and their spirit affected English literature till a still later period. Many of the ballads handed down amongst the common people are supposed to have been derived from them.

[Extract from the King of Tars.]

[The Soudan of Damascus, having asked the daughter of the king of Tarsus in marriage, receives a refusal. The extract describes his conduct on the return of the messengers with this intelligence, and some of the subsequent transactions. The

language of this romance greatly resembles that of Robert of Gloucester, and it may therefore be safely referred to the be

ginning of the fourteenth century.]

The Soudan sat at his dess,1
Y-served of the first mess;

They comen into the hall
To-fore the prince proud in press,
Their tale they tolden withouten lees,
And on their knees 'gan fall;

And said, 'Sire, the king of Tars
Of wicked words is not scarce,

Heathen hound he doth thee call;

And ere his daughter he give thee till
Thine heart-blood he will spill,
And thy barons all!"
When the Soudan this y-heard,
As a wood2 man he fared,3

His robe he rent adown;
He tare the hair of head and beard,
And said he would her win with swerd,
By his lord St Mahoun.

The table adown right he smote,
Into the floor foot hot,4

He looked as a wild lion.
All that he hit he smote downright,
Both sergeant and knight,

Earl and eke baron.
So he fared forsooth aplight,
All a day and all a night,

That no man might him chast

A-morron, when it was daylight,
He sent his messengers full right,
After his barons in haste,
That they comen to his parliament,
For to hearen his judgment,

Both least and maist.6
When tle parliament was playner,
Thus bespake the Soudan fier',7

And said to 'em in haste:
'Lordings,' he said, 'what to rede ?8
Me is done a great misdeed,

Of Tars the Christian king;
I bade him both lond and lede,
To have his doughter in worthy weed,
And spouse her with my ring.

And he said, withouten fail,
Erst he would me slay in batail,

And mony a great lording.
Ac certes10 he shall be forswore,
Or to wroth-hail that he was bore, 11
But he it thereto bring.
Therefore, lordings, I have after you sent,
For to come to my parliament,
To wit of you counsail."
And all answered with good intent,
They would be at his commandement
Withouten any fail.

And when they were all at his hest, 12
The Soudan made a well-great feast,
For love of his batail.

The Soudan gathered a host unride,1
With Saracens of muckle pride,

The king of Tars to assail.
When the king it heard that tide,
He sent about on each a-side,

All that he might of send;
Great war then began to wrack,
For the marriage ne most be take,
Of that maiden hend.2

Battle they set upon a day,
Within the third day of May,

Ne longer nold they lend.
The Soudan come with great power,
With helm bright, and fair bannér,
Upon that king to wend.

The Soudan led an huge host,
And came with much pride and cost,

With the king of Tars to fight;

With him mony a Saracen fier',
All the fields far and near

Of helms leamed light.3

The king of Tars came also,

The Soudan battle for to do,

With mony a Christian knight.

Either host gan other assail,
There began a strong batail,

That grisly was of sight,

Three heathen again two Christian men, And felled them down in the fen,

With weapons stiffand good.

The stern Saracens in that fight,
Slew our Christian men downright,

They fought as they were wood. When the king of Tars saw that sight, Wood he was for wrath aplight,

In hand he hent1 a spear, And to the Soudan he rode full right, With a dunt of much might,

Adown he 'gan him bear.

The Soudan nigh he had y-slaw,
But thirty thousand of heathen law,
Comen him for to weir ;6

And brought him again upon his steed,
And holp him well in that need,

That no man might him der.7

When he was brought upon his steed,
He sprung as sparkle doth of gleed,8
For wrath and for envy.

And all that he hit he made 'em bleed,
He fared as he wold a weed,

'Mahoun help !' he 'gan cry.

Mony a helm there was unweaved,
And mony a bassinet to-cleared,

And saddles mony empty;

Men might see upon the field,
Mony a knight dead under shield,

Of the Christian company.

When the king of Tars saw him so ride, No longer there he wold abide,

But fleeth to his own city.

The Saracens, that ilk tide,

Slew adown by each side,

Our Christian men so free.

The Saracens that time, sans fail,

Slew our Christians in batail,

That ruth it was to see;

And on the morrow for their sake,
Truce they gan together take

A month and days three.
As the king of Tars sat in his hall,
He made full great dool withal,

For the folk that he had i-lore.

His doughter came in, rich pall,
On knees she 'gan before him fall,

And said, with sighing sore:
'Father,' she said, 'let me be his wife,
That there be no more strife,' &c.

[Extract from the Squire of Low Degree.]

[The daughter of the king of Hungary having fallen into melancholy, in consequence of the loss of her lover, the squire of low degree, her father thus endeavours to console her. The passage is valuable, because,' says Warton, it delineates, in lively colours, the fashionable diversions and usages of ancient times.']

To-morrow ye shall in hunting fare;
And yede, my doughter, in a chair;
It shall be covered with velvet red,
And cloths of fine gold all about your head,
With damask white and azure blue,
Well diapered with lilies new.
Your pommels shall be ended with gold,
Your chains enamelled many a fold,
Your mantle of rich degree,
Purple pall and ermine free.

Jennets of Spain, that ben so wight,
Trapped to the ground with velvet bright.
Ye shall have harp, sautry, and song,
And other mirths you among.
Ye shall have Rumney and Malespine,
Both Hippocras and Vernage wine;
Montrese and wine of Greek,
Both Algrade and despice eke,
Antioch and Bastard,
Pyment also and garnard;
Wine of Greek and Muscadel,
Both claré, pyment, and Rochelle,
The reed your stomach to defy,
And pots of Osy set you by.
You shall have venison y-bake,
The best wild fowl that may be take;
A leish of harehound with you to streek,7
And hart, and hind, and other like.
Ye shall be set at such a tryst,

That hart and hynd shall come to your fist,
Your disease to drive you fro,
To hear the bugles there y-blow.
Homeward thus shall ye ride,
On-hawking by the river's side,
With gosshawk and with gentle falcón,
With bugle horn and merlión.
When you come home your menzies among,
Ye shall have revel, dances, and song;
Little children, great and small,
Shall sing as does the nightingale.
Then shall ye go to your even song,
With tenors and trebles among.
Threescore of copes of damask bright,
Full of pearls they shall be pight.9
Your censors shall be of gold,
Indent with azure many a fold.
Your quire nor organ song shall want,
With contre-note and descant.

The other half on organs playing,
With young children full fain singing.
Then shall ye go to your suppér,
And sit in tents in green arbér,

1 Lost.

Go a hunting.

3 Go.

4 Figured.

A drink of wine, honey, and spices.

Forty torches burning bright,

1

ין

At your bridges to bring you light.
Into your chamber they shall you bring,

With much mirth and more liking.

i

Your blankets shall be of fustian,

Your sheets shall be of cloth of Rennes.
Your head sheet shall be of pery pight,1
With diamonds set and rubies bright.
When you are laid in bed so soft,
A cage of gold shall hang aloft,
With long paper fair burníng,
And cloves that be sweet smellíng.

Frankincense and olibanum,

That when ye sleep the taste may come; And if ye no rest can take,

All night minstrels for you shall wake.

IMMEDIATE PREDECESSORS OF CHAUCER.

Hitherto, we have seen English poetry only in the forms of the chronicle and the romance: of its many other forms, so familiar now, in which it is employed to point a moral lesson, to describe natural scenery, to convey satiric reflections, and give expression to refined sentiment, not a trace has as yet engaged our | attention. The dawn of miscellaneous poetry, as these forms may be comprehensively called, is to be faintly discovered about the middle of the thirteenth centary, when Henry III. sat on the English throne, and Alexander II. on that of Scotland. A considerable variety of examples will be found in the volumes of which the titles are given below. The earliest that can be said to possess literary merit is an elegy on the death of Edward I. (1307), written in musical and energetic stanzas, of which one is subjoined :

Jerusalem, thou hast i-lore 2
The flour of all chivalerie,

Nou Kyng Edward liveth na more,
Alas! that he yet shulde deye !
He wolde ha rered up ful heyge 3
Our baners that bueth broht to grounde;
Wel longe we mowe clepet and crie,
Er we such a kyng han y-founde!

The first name that occurs in this department of our literature is that of LAWRENCE MINOT, who, about 1350, composed a series of short poems on the victories of Edward III., beginning with the battle of Halidon Hill, and ending with the siege of Guines Castle. His works were in a great measure unknown until the beginning of the present century, when they were published by Ritson, who praised them for the ease, variety, and harmony of the verfeation. About the same time flourished RICHARD BOLLE, a hermit of the order of St Augustine, and doctor of divinity, who lived a solitary life near the

[What is in Heaven.]

Ther is lyf withoute ony deth,
And ther is youthe without ony elde;1
And ther is alle manner welthe to welde:
And ther is rest without ony travaille;
And ther is pees without ony strife,

And ther is alle manner lykinge of lyf :

And ther is bright somer ever to se,

And ther is nevere wynter in that countrie :-
And ther is more worshipe and honour,
Then evere hade kynge other emperour.
And ther is grete melodie of aungeles songe,
And ther is preysing hem amonge.

And ther is alle manner frendshipe that may be,
And ther is evere perfect love and charite;
*And ther is wisdom without folye,
And ther is honeste without vileneye.
Al these a man may joyes of hevene call:
Ac yutte the most sovereyn joye of alle
Is the sighte of Goddes bright face,
In wham resteth alle mannere grace.

ROBERT LANGLAND.

The Vision of Pierce Ploughman, a satirical poem of the same period, ascribed to ROBERT LONGLANDE, a secular priest, also shows very expressively the progress which was made, about the middle of the fourteenth century, towards a literary style. This poem, in many points of view, is one of the most important works that appeared in England previous to the invention of printing. It is the popular representative of the doctrines which were silently bringing about the Reformation, and it is a peculiarly national poem, not only as being a much purer specimen of the English language than Chaucer, but as exhibiting the revival of the same system of alliteration which characterised the Anglo-Saxon poetry. It is, in fact, both in this peculiarity and in its political character, characteristic of a great literary and political revolution, in which the language as well as the independence of the AngloSaxons had at last gained the ascendency over those of the Normans.* Pierce is represented as falling asleep on the Malvern hills, and as seeing, in his sleep, a series of visions; in describing these, he exposes the corruptions of society, but particularly the dissolute lives of the religious orders, with much bitterness.

[Extracts from Pierce Plowman.]
[Mercy and Truth are thus allegorised.]

Out of the west coast, a wench, as me thought,
Came walking in the way, to hell-ward she looked;
Mercy hight that maid, a meek thing withal,
A full benign burd, and buxom of speech;
Her sister, as it seemed, came soothly walking,
Even out of the east, and westward she looked,