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Oh heavy news, King James did say,
Scotland can witness be,

I have not any captain more

Of such account as he.

Like tidings to King Henry came

Within as short a space,

That Piercy of Northumberland
Was slain in Chevy-Chase.

Now God be with him, said our King,
Sith 'twill no better be,

I trust I have within my realm
Five hundred as good as he.1

Yet shall not Scot nor Scotland say
But I will vengeance take,
And be revenged on them all

For brave Lord Piercy's sake.

This vow full well the King perform'd
After on Humble-down;

In one day fifty knights were slain,
With lords of great renown.

And of the rest of small account

Did many thousands dye, &c.

At the same time that our poet shews a laudable partiality to his country-men, he represents the Scots after a manner not un becoming so bold and brave a people.

Earl Douglas on a milk-white steed,

Most like a baron bold,

Rode foremost of the company,

Whose armour shone like gold.2

1 The old version reads with far more effect:

Hys handdes dyd he weal and wryug,

He sayd, Alas, and woe ys me!
Such another captayn Skotland within,

He say y-feth should never be, &c.-G.

2 The dougheti Dogglas on a stede

He rode att his men beforne;
His armor glytteryde as dyd a Glede;

A bolder barne was never born.

OLD COPY.-G.

His sentiments and actions are every way suitable to an hero. One of us two, says he, must die: I am an earl as well as yourself, so that you can have no pretence for refusing the combat: however, says he, 'tis pity, and indeed would be a sin, that so many innocent men should perish for our sakes, rather let you and I end our quarrel in single fight.

Ere thus I will out-braved be,

One of us two shall die.

I know thee well, an Earl thou art,
Lord Piercy, so am I.

But trust me, Piercy, pity it were,
And great offence, to kill
Any of these our harmless inen,

For they have done no ill.

Let thou and I the battle try,

And set our men aside.

Accurst be he, Lord Piercy said,'

By whom this is deny'd.

When these brave men had distinguished themselves in the battle, and in single combat with each other, in the midst of a generous parly, full of heroic sentiments, the Scotch earl falls; and with his dying words encourages his men to revenge his death, representing to them as the most bitter circumstances of it, that his rival saw him fall.

With that there came an arrow keen

Out of an English bow,

Which struck Earl Douglas to the heart
A deep and deadly blow.

Who never spoke more words than these,

Fight on my merry men all,

For why, my life is at an end,
Lord Piercy sees me fall."

'An improvement upon the old poem.-G.

Here the original poem is very spirited; but the beautiful though which Addison admires so much, belongs to the modern poet.-G.

Merry Men, in the language of those times, is no more than a cheerful word for companions and fellow-soldiers. A passage in the eleventh book of Virgil's Æneid is very much to be admired, where Camilla, in her last agonies, instead of weeping over the wound she had received, as one might have expected from a war rior of her sex, considers only (like the hero of whom we are now speaking) how the battle should be continued after her death.

Tum sic expirans, &c.

A gathering mist o'erclouds her cheerful eyes,
And from her cheeks the rosy colour flies;
Then turns to her, whom, of her female train,

She trusted most, and thus she speaks with pain.
Acca, 'tis past! he swims before my sight,

Inexorable death; and claims his right.

Bear my last words to Turnus: fly with speed,
And bid him timely to my charge succeed:
Repel the Trojans, and the town relieve,

Farewel.

Turnus did not die in so heroic a manner; though our poet

seems to have had his eye upon Turnus's speech in the last verse,

Lord Piercy sees me fall.

Vicisti, et victum tendere palmas

Ausonii videre

The Latian chiefs have seen me beg my life.

DRYDEN.

Earl Piercy's lamentation over his enemy is generous, beautiful and passionate; I must only caution the reader not to let the simplicity of the style, which one may well pardon in so old a poet, prejudice him against the greatness of the thought.

Then leaving life, Earl Piercy took
The dead man by the hand,
And said, Earl Douglas, for thy life
Would I had lost my land.1

'Here the old peem has a picture, which is entirely lost in the modern

[graphic]

O Christ! my very heart doth bleed
With sorrow for thy sake;
For sure a more renowned knight
Mischance did never take.

That beautiful line, taking the dead man by the hand, wil the reader in mind of Æneas's behaviour towards Lausus, he himself had slain as he came to the rescue of his aged f

At vero ut vultum vidit morientis, et ora,
Ora modis Anchisiades pallentia miris:

Ingemuit miserans graviter, dextramque tetendit, &c.

The pious prince beheld young Lausus dead;

He grieved, he wept; then grasp'd his hand, and said,
Poor hapless youth! what praises can be paid

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I shall take another opportunity to consider the other part this old song.

C.

No. 72. WEDNESDAY, MAY 23.

Genus immortale manet, multosque per annos
Stat fortuna domus, et avi numerantur avorum.

VIRG. Georg. iv, 208.

Th' immortal line in sure succession reigns,

The fortune of the family remains.

And grandsires grandsons the long list contains.

DRYDEN.

HAVING already given my reader an account of several ex ordinary clubs, both ancient and modern, I did not design to b troubled him with any more narratives of this nature: but I h lately received information of a club which I can call neither

though the beautiful incident of taking the dead man by the hand been preserved.

The Persè leanyde on his brande,

And saw the Duglas de;
He tooke the dede man be the hande,

And sayd, Wo ys me for the !-G.

cient nor modern, that I dare say will be no less surprising to my reader than it was to myself; for which reason I shall communicate it to the public as one of the greatest curiosities in its kind.

A friend of mine complaining of a tradesman who is related to him, after having represented him as a very idle, worthless. fellow, who neglected his family, and spent most of his time over a bottle, told me, to conclude his character, that he was a mem ber of the Everlasting Club. So very odd a title raised my curiosity to inquire into the nature of a club that had such a sounding name; upon which my friend gave me the following account.

'THE Everlasting Club consists of a hundred members, who divide the whole twenty-four hours among them in such a manner, that the club sits day and night from one end of the year to another; no party presuming to rise till they are relieved by those who are in course to succeed them. By this means a member of the Everlasting Club never wants company; for though he is not upon duty himself, he is sure to find some who are; so that if he be disposed to take a whet, a nooning, an evening's draught, or a bottle after midnight, he goes to the club, and finds a knot of friends to his mind.

'It is a maxim in this club, that the steward never dies; for as they succeed one another by way of rotation, no man is to quit the great elbow-chair which stands at the upper end of the table, till his successor is in a readiness to fill it; insomuch, that there has not been a Sede vacante in the memory of man.

'This club was instituted towards the end (or, as some of them say, about the middle) of the Civil Wars, and continued without interruption till the time of the Great Fire,' which burnt them out, and dispersed them for several weeks. The steward at that time maintained his post till he had like to have been blown up with a neighboring house, (which was demolished in or

11666.

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