I rather lourd it had been my sel
Than eather him or thee.

With waefo wae I hear your plaint;

Sair, sair I rew the deid,

That eir this cursed hand of mine

Had gard his body bleid.

Dry up your tears, my winsome dame,
Ye ne'er can heal the wound;

Ye see his head upon the speir,

His heart's blude on the ground.

I curse the hand that did the deid,
The heart that thocht the ill;
The feet that bore me wi' sik speid,

The comely youth to kill.
I'll aye lament for Gill Morice,
As gin he were mine ain;
I'll ne'er forget the dreiry day

On which the youth was slain.'

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This little pathetic tale suggested the plot of the tragedy of' Douglas.' Since it was first printed, the Editor has been assured that the foregoing Ballad is still current in many parts of Scotland, where the hero is universally known by the name of Child Maurice, pronounced by the common people Cheild or Cheeld; which occasioned the mistake.

It may be proper to mention that other copies read ver. 110, thus:

And ver. 116, as follows:

Shot frae the golden sun.

His een like azuro sheena.

SERIES THE THIRD.

BOOK II.

I.

THE LEGEND OF SIR GUY

contains a short summary of the exploits of this famous champion, as recorded in the old story books; and is commonly intitled, 'A pleasant song of the valiant deeds of chivalry achieved by that noble knight sir Guy of Warwick, who, for the love of fair Phelis, became a hermit, and dyed in a cave of craggy rocke, a mile distant from Warwick.'

The history of sir Guy, though now very properly resigned to children, was once admired by all readers of wit and taste: for taste and wit had once their childhood. Although of English growth, it was early a favourite with other nations: it appeared in French in 1525; and is alluded to in the old Spanish romance Tirante el blanco, which, it is believed, was written not long after the year 1430. See advertisement to the French translation, 2 vols. 12mo.

The original whence all these stories are extracted is a very ancient romance in old English verse, which is quoted by Chaucer as a celebrated piece even in his time, (viz.

'Men speken of romances of price,
Of Horne childe and Ippotis,

Of Bevis, and sir Guy,' &c.

R. of Thop.)

and was usually sung to the harp at Christmas dinners and bridals, as we learn from Puttenham's Art of Poetry, 4to, 1589.

This ancient romance is not wholly lost. An imperfect copy in black letter, 'Imprynted at London-for Wylliam Copland,' in 34 sheets 4to, without date, is still preserved in Mr Garrick's collection of old plays. As a specimen of the poetry of this antique rhymer, take his description of the dragon mentioned in ver. 105 of the following ballad:

-A messenger came to the king.
Syr king, he sayd, lysten me now,
For bad tydinges I bring you,

In Northumberlande there is no man,

But that they be slayne every chone:

For there dare no man route,

By twenty myle rounde aboute,

For doubt of a fowle dragon,

That sleath men and beastes downe.
He is blacke as any cole,

Rugged as a rough fole;

His bodye from the navill upwarde
No man may it pierce it is so harde;
His neck is great as any summere;
He renneth as swifte as any distrere;

Paws he hath as a lyon:

All that he toucheth he sleath dead downe.
Great winges he hath to flight,

That is no man that bare him might.

There may no man fight him agayne,
But that he sleath him certayne:
For a fowler beast then is he,

Ywis of none never heard ye.'

Sir William Dugdale is of opinion that the story of Guy is not wholly apocryphal, though he acknowledges the monks have sounded out his praises too hyperbolically. In particular, he gives the duel fought with the Danish champion as a real historical truth, and fixes the date of it in the year 926, Etat. Guy, 67. See his Warwickshire.

The following is written upon the same plan as ballad V. Book I. but which is the original and which the copy, cannot be decided. This song is ancient, as may be inferred from the idiom preserved in the margin, ver. 94. 102: and was once popular, as appears from Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle, Act. 2. Sc. ult.

It is here published from an ancient MS. copy in the Editor's old folio volume, collated with two printed ones, one of which is in black letter in the Pepys collection.

WAS ever knight for ladyes sake

Soe tost in love, as I sir Guy
For Phelis fayre, that lady bright
As ever man beheld with eye?

She gave me leave myself to try,

The valiant knight with sheeld and speare,

Ere that her love shee wold grant me ;

Which made mee venture far and neare.

Then proved I a baron bold,

In deeds of armes the doughtyest knight
That in those dayes in England was,

With sworde and speare in feild to fight.

An English man I was by birthe:
In faith of Christ a christyan true:

Ver. 9, The proud sir Guy, PC.

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The wicked lawes of infidells

I sought by prowesse to subdue.

[Nine] hundred twenty yeere and odde
After our Saviour Christ his birth,
When king Athèlstone wore the crowne,
I lived heere upon the earth.

Sometime I was of Warwicke erle,
And, as I sayd, of very truth
A ladyes love did me constraine

To seek strange ventures in my youth

To win me fame by feates of armes
In strange and sundry heathen lands;
Where I atchieved for her sake

Right dangerous conquests with

my

hands.

For first I sayled for Normandye,
And there I stoutlye wan in fight
The emperours daughter of Almaine,
From manye a vallyant worthye knight.

Then passed I the seas to Greece
To helpe the emperour in his right;
Against the mightye souldans hoaste
Of puissant Persians for to fight.

Where I did slay of Sarazens,

And heathen pagans, manye a man; And slew the souldans cozen deere, Who had to name doughtye Coldràn.

Ver. 17, Two hundred, MS. and P.

Eskeldered a famous knight
To death likewise I did pursue:
And Elmayne king of Tyre alsoe,
Most terrible in fight to viewe.

I went into the souldans hoast,
Being thither on embassage sent,
And brought his head awaye with mee;
I having slaine him in his tent.

There was a dragon in that land

Most fiercelye mett me by the waye

As hee a lyon did pursue,

Which I myself did alsoe slay.

Then soon I past the seas from Greece,

And came to Pavye land aright: Where I the duke of Pavye killed, His hainous treason to requite.

To England then I came with speede,
To wedd faire Phelis lady bright:
For love of whome I travelled farr
To try my manhood and my might.

But when I had espoused her,

I stayd with her but fortye dayes, Ere that I left this ladye faire,

And went from her beyond the seas.

All cladd in gray, in pilgrim sort,
My voyage from her I did take

Unto the blessed Holy-land,

For Jesus Christ my Saviours sake.

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