And there is room lefte yet in kantle, For thine to ftande, to make the twelfth out: When this mortal meffage from his mouthe past, Then in came fir Kay, the king's' feneschal. Silence, my foveraignes, quoth this courteous knight, And in that stound the ftowre began still : 'Then' the dwarfe's dinner full deerely was dight, Of wine and waffel he had his wille; And, when he had eaten and drunken his fill, An hundred pieces of fine coyned gold Were given this dwarf for his meffage bold. But fay to fir Ryence, thou dwarf, quoth the king, And shortlye with bafins and pans will him ring With fwords, and not rafors, quickly shall trye, Whether he, or king Arthur will prove the best barbor. And therewith he shook his good sword Excalàbor. IV. IV. KING ARTHUR'S DEATH. A FRAGMENT. The fubject of this ballad is evidently taken from the old romance Morte Arthur, but with fome variations, especially in the concluding ftanzas; in which the author feems rather to follow the traditions of the old Welsh Bards, who "believed that King Arthur was not dead, but conveied "awaie by the Fairies into föme pleasant place, where he fhould remaine for a time, and then returne againe and "reign in as great authority as ever." [Holingfhed. B. 5. c. 14.] or as it is expreffed in an old Chronicle printed at Antwerp 1493 [by Ger. de Leew,]" The Bre"tons fuppofen, that he [K. Arthur]----shall come yet and "conquere all Bretaigne, for certes this is the prophicye of Merlyn: He fayd, that his deth fhall be doubteous; and Sayd foth, for men therof yet have doubte, and fhullen for "ever more,----for men wyt not whether that he lyveth or " is dede." See more ancient teftimonies in Selden's Notes on Polyolbion, Song III. 66 N. B. This ballad, which is taken from the Editor's MS. will receive illuftration from that which immediately fol lows it. N Trinitye Mondaye in the morne, ON This fore battayle was doom'd to bee; Ere Ere the first crowinge of the cocke, When as the kinge in his bed laye, Nowe as you are mine unkle deare, And as you prize your life; this daye O meet not with your foe in fighte; Putt off the battayle, if yee maye. For fir Launcelot is nowe in Fraunce, And with him many an hardye knighte: Who will within this moneth be backe, And will affifte yee in the fighte. The kinge then call'd his nobles all, His nobles all this counfayle gave, That earlye in the morning, hee Shold fend awaye an herauld at armes, Then twelve good knightes king Arthure chose, 25 The best of all that with him were: To parley with the foe in field, And make with him agreement faire. The The king he charged all his hofte, In readineffe there for to bee : But noe man fholde noe weapon fturre, Unleffe a fword drawne they fhold fee. 30 But noe man fholde noe weapon fturre, 40 For he durfte not his unkle trufte, Nor he his nephewe, fothe to tell : Alacke! it was a woefulle cafe, As ere in Chriftentye befelle. But when they were together mette, And both to faire accordance broughte; 45 And a month's league betweene them fette, An addere crept forth of a bushe, Stunge one o' th' king's knightes on the knee: 50 Alacke! it was a woefulle chance, As ever was in Christentie. When When the knighte found him wounded fore, And fawe the wild-worme hanginge there; For when the two hoftes sawe the fworde, Till of foe manye noble knightes, 55 On one fide there were lefte but three. 60 For all were flain that durft abide, As ere was foughte on fummer's daye. Upon king Arthur's owne partyè, Onlye himselfe escaped there, And Lukyn duke of Glofter free, And the king's butler Bedevere. And when the king beheld his knightes, Nowe refte yee all, brave knights, he said, 65 70 75 Moft |