Chapter 3

Hengist that day did his might, That all were glad, king and knight, And as they were best in glading, And wele cop schotin[1] knight and king, Of chamber Rouewen 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 gret. 'Lauerid[3] king, Wassail,' said she. The king asked, what should be. In that language the king ne couth.[4] A knight the language lered[5] in youth. Breg hight that knight, born Bretoun, That lered the language of Sessoun.[6] This Breg was the latimer,[7] What she said told Vortager. 'Sir,' Breg said, 'Rowen you greets, And king calls and lord you leets.[8] This is their custom and their gest, When they are at the ale or feast. Ilk man that louis quare him think, Shall say Wosseil, and to him drink. He that bidis shall say, Wassail, The other shall say again, Drinkhail. That says Wosseil drinks of the cup, Kissing his fellow he gives it up. Drinkheil, he says, and drinks thereof, Kissing him in bourd and skof.'[9] The king said, as the knight 'gan ken,[10] Drinkheil, smiling on Rouewen. Rouwen drank as her list, And gave the king, sine[11] him kist. There was the first wassail in deed, And that first of fame gede.[12] Of that wassail men told great tale, And wassail when they were at ale, And drinkheil to them that drank, Thus was wassail tane[13] to thank. Fele sithes[14] that maiden ying,[15] Wassailed and kist the king. Of body she was right avenant,[16] Of fair colour, with sweet semblant.[17] Her attire full well it seemed, Mervelik[18] the king she quemid.[19] Out of measure was he glad, For of that maiden he were all mad. Drunkenness the fiend wrought, Of that paen[20] was all his thought. A mischance that time him led, He asked that paen for to wed. Hengist wild not draw a lite,[21] But granted him, alle so tite.[22] And Hors his brother consented soon. Her friendis said, it were to don. They asked the king to give her Kent, In douery to take of rent. Upon that maiden his heart so cast, That they asked the king made fast. I ween the king took her that day, And wedded her on paien's lay.[23] Of priest was there no benison No mass sungen, no orison. In seisine he had her that night. Of Kent he gave Hengist the right. The earl that time, that Kent all held, Sir Goragon, that had the sheld, Of that gift no thing ne wist To[24] he was cast out with[25] Hengist.

[1] 'Schotin:' sending about the cups briskly. [2] 'Well-farand:' very rich. [3] 'Lauerid:' lord. [4] 'Ne couth:' knew not. [5] 'Lered:' learned. [6] 'Sessoun:' Saxons. [7] 'Latimer:' _for_ Latiner, or Latinier, an interpreter. [8] 'Leets:' esteems. [9] 'Skof:' sport, joke. [10] 'Ken:' to signify. [11] 'Sine:' then. [12] 'Cede:' went. [13] 'Tane:' taken. [14] 'Sithes:' many times. [15] 'Ying:' young. [16] 'Avenant:' handsome. [17] 'Semblant:' countenance. [18] 'Mervelik:' marvellously. [19] 'Quemid:' pleased. [20] 'Paen:' pagan, heathen. [21] 'Wild not draw a lite:' would not fly off a bit. [22] 'Tite:' happeneth. [23] 'On paien's lay:' in pagan's law; according to the heathenish custom. [24] 'To:' till. [25] 'With:' by.

THE ATTACK OF RICHARD I. ON A CASTLE HELD BY THE SARACENS.

The dikes were fulle wide that closed the castle about, And deep on ilka side, with bankis high without. Was there none entry that to the castle 'gan ligg,[1] But a strait kauce;[2] at the end a draw-brig, With great double chaines drawen over the gate, And fifty armed swaines porters at that gate. With slinges and mangonels they cast to king Richard, Our Christians by parcels casted againward. Ten sergeants of the best his targe 'gan him bear That eager were and prest[3] to cover him and to were.[4] Himself as a giant the chaines in two hew, The targe was his warant,[5] that none till him threw. Eight unto the gate with the targe they yede, Fighting on a gate, under him they slew his steed, Therefore ne would he cease, alone into the castele Through them all would press; on foot fought he full wele. And when he was within, and fought as a wild lion, He fondred the Sarazins otuynne,[6] and fought as a dragon, Without the Christians 'gan cry, 'Alas! Richard is taken;' Then Normans were sorry, of countenance 'gan blaken, To slay down and to' stroy never would they stint, They left fordied[7] no noye,[8] ne for no wound no dint, That in went all their press, maugre the Sarazins all, And found Richard on dais fighting, and won the hall.

[1] 'Ligg:' lying. [2] 'Kauce:' causey. [3] 'Prest:' ready. [4] 'Were:' defend. [5] 'Warant:' guard. [6] 'He fondred the Sarazins otuynne:' he formed the Saracens into two parties. [7] 'Fordied:' undone. [8] 'No noye:' annoy.

Of De Brunne, Warton judiciously remarks--'Our author also translated into English rhymes the treatise of Cardinal Bonaventura, his contemporary, _De coena et passione Domini, et paenis S. Mariae Virgins_. But I forbear to give more extracts from this writer, who appears to have possessed much more industry than genius, and cannot at present be read with much pleasure. Yet it should be remembered that even such a writer as Robert de Brunne, uncouth and unpleasing as he naturally seems, and chiefly employed in turning the theology of his age into rhyme, contributed to form a style, to teach expression, and to polish his native tongue. In the infancy of language and composition, nothing is wanted but writers;--at that period even the most artless have their use.'

Here we may allude to the introduction of romantic fiction into English poetry. This had, as we have seen, reigned in France. There troubadours in Provence, and men more worthy of the name of poets in Normandy, had long sung of Brutus, of Charlemagne, and of Rollo. And thence a class, called sometimes Joculators, sometimes Jongleurs, and sometimes Minstrels, issued, harp in hand, wandering to and fro, and singing tales of chivalry and love, composed either by themselves, or by other poets living or dead. (We refer our readers to our first volume of Percy's 'Reliques,' for a full account of this class, and of the poetry they produced.) These wanderers reached England in due time and brought with them compositions which found favour and excited emulation, or at least imitation, in our vernacular genius. Hence came a great swarm of romances, all more or less derived from the French, even when Saxon in subject and style; such as 'Sir Tristrem,' (which Sir Walter Scott tried in vain to prove to be written by the famous Thomas the Rhymer, of Ercildoun, or Earlston, in Berwickshire, who died before 1299;) 'The Life of Alexander the Great,' said to be written by Adam Davie, Marshall of Stratford-le-Bow, who lived about 1312; 'King Horn,' which certainly belongs to the latter part of the thirteenth century; 'The Squire of Low Degree; 'Sir Guy;' 'Sir Degore;' 'The King of Tars;' 'King Robert of Sicily;' 'La Mort d'Arthur;' 'Impodemon;' and, more lately, 'Sir Libius;' 'Sir Thopas;' 'Sir Isenbras;' 'Gawan and Gologras;' and 'Sir Bevis.' Richard I. also formed the subject of a very popular romance. We give extracts from it:--

THE SOLDAN SALADIN SENDS KING RICHARD A HORSE.

'Thou sayst thy God is full of might: Wilt thou grant with spear and shield, To detryve the right in the field, With helm, hauberk, and brandes bright, On stronge steedes good and light, Whether be of more power, Thy God almight, or Jupiter? And he sent rue to saye this If thou wilt have an horse of his, In all the lands that thou hast gone Such ne thou sawest never none: Favel of Cyprus, ne Lyard of Prys,[1] Be not at need as he is; And if thou wilt, this same day, He shall be brought thee to assay.' Richard answered, 'Thou sayest well Such a horse, by Saint Michael, I would have to ride upon.---- Bid him send that horse to me, And I shall assay what he be, If he be trusty, withoute fail, I keep none other to me in battail.' The messengers then home went, And told the Soldan in present, That Richard in the field would come him unto: The rich Soldan bade to come him unto A noble clerk that coulde well conjure, That was a master necromansour: He commanded, as I you tell, Thorough the fiende's might of hell, Two strong fiende's of the air, In likeness of two steedes fair, Both like in hue and hair, As men said that there were: No man saw never none sich; That one was a mare iliche, That other a colt, a noble steed, Where that he were in any mead, (Were the knight never so bold.) When the mare neigh wold, (That him should hold against his will,) But soon he woulde go her till, And kneel down and suck his dame, Therewith the Soldan with shame Shoulde king Richard quell, All this an angel 'gan him tell, That to him came about midnight. 'Awake,' he said, 'Goddis knight: My Lord doth thee to understand That thee shalt come an horse to land, Fair it is, of body ypight, To betray thee if the Soldan might; On him to ride have thou no drede For he thee helpe shall at need.'

The angel gives king Richard several directions about managing this infernal horse, and a general engagement ensuing, between the Christian and Saracen armies,

He leapt on horse when it was light; Ere he in his saddle did leap Of many thinges he took keep.-- His men brought them that he bade, A square tree of forty feet, Before his saddle anon he it set, Fast that they should it brase, &c. Himself was richely begone, From the crest right to the tone,[2] He was covered wondrously wele All with splentes of good steel, And there above an hauberk. A shaft he had of trusty werk, Upon his shoulders a shield of steel, With the libards[3] painted wele; And helm he had of rich entaile, Trusty and true was his ventaile: Upon his crest a dove white, Significant of the Holy Sprite, Upon a cross the dove stood Of gold ywrought rich and good, God[4] himself, Mary and John, As he was done the rood upon,[5] In significance for whom he fought, The spear-head forgat he nought, Upon his shaft he would it have Goddis name thereon was grave; Now hearken what oath he sware, Ere they to the battaile went there: 'If it were so, that Richard might Slay the Soldan in field with fight, At our wille evereachone He and his should gone Into the city of Babylon; And the king of Macedon He should have under his hand; And if the Soldan of that land Might slay Richard in the field With sword or speare under shield, That Christian men shoulde go Out of that land for evermo, And the Saracens their will in wold.' Quoth king Richard, 'Thereto I hold, Thereto my glove, as I am knight.' They be armed and ready dight: King Richard to his saddle did leap, Certes, who that would take keep To see that sight it were sair; Their steedes ranne with great ayre,[6] All so hard as they might dyre,[7] After their feete sprang out fire: Tabors and trumpettes 'gan blow: There men might see in a throw How king Richard, that noble man, Encountered with the Soldan, The chief was tolde of Damas, His trust upon his mare was, And therefor, as the book[8] us tells, His crupper hunge full of bells, And his peytrel[9] and his arsowne[10] Three mile men might hear the soun. His mare neighed, his bells did ring, For greate pride, without lesing, A falcon brode[11] in hand he bare, For he thought he woulde there Have slain Richard with treasoun When his colt should kneele down, As a colt shoulde suck his dame, And he was 'ware of that shame, His ears with wax were stopped fast, Therefore Richard was not aghast, He struck the steed that under him went, And gave the Soldan his death with a dent: In his shielde verament Was painted a serpent, With the spear that Richard held He bare him thorough under his sheld, None of his armour might him last, Bridle and peytrel all to-brast, His girthes and his stirrups also, His ruare to grounde wente tho; Maugre her head, he made her seech The ground, withoute more speech, His feet toward the firmament, Behinde him the spear outwent There he fell dead on the green, Richard smote the fiend with spurres keen, And in the name of the Holy Ghost He driveth into the heathen host, And as soon as he was come, Asunder he brake the sheltron,[12] And all that ever afore him stode, Horse and man to the grounde yode, Twenty foot on either side. When the king of France and his men wist That the mast'ry had the Christian, They waxed bold, and good heart took, Steedes bestrode, and shaftes shook.

[1] 'Favel of Cyprus, ne Lyard of Prys:' Favel of Cyprus, and Lyard of Paris, horses of Kichard's. [2] 'Tone:' toes. [3] 'Libards:' leopards. [4] 'God:' our Saviour. [5] 'As he was done the rood upon:' as he died upon the cross. [6] 'Ayre:' ire. [7] 'Dyre:' dare. [8] 'The book:' the French romance. [9] 'Peytrel:' the breast-plate or breast-band of a horse. [10] 'Arsowne:' saddle-bow. [11] 'falcon brode:' F. bird. [12] 'Sheltrou:' 'schiltron:' soldiers drawn up in a circle.

From 'Sir Degore' we quote the description of a dragon, which Warton thinks drawn by a master:--

DEGORE AND THE DRAGON.

Degore went forth his way, Through a forest half a day: He heard no man, nor sawe none, Till it past the high none, Then heard he great strokes fall, That it made greate noise withal, Full soone he thought that to see, To weete what the strokes might be: There was an earl, both stout and gay, He was come there that same day, For to hunt for a deer or a doe, But his houndes were gone him fro. Then was there a dragon great and grim, Full of fire and also venim, With a wide throat and tuskes great, Upon that knight fast 'gan he beat. And as a lion then was his feet, His tail was long, and full unmeet: Between his head and his tail Was twenty-two foot withouten fail; His body was like a wine tun, He shone full bright against the sun: His eyes were bright as any glass, His scales were hard as any brass; And thereto he was necked like a horse, He bare his head up with great force: The breath of his mouth that did out blow As it had been a fire on lowe[1]. He was to look on, as I you tell, As it had been a fiend of hell. Many a man he had shent, And many a horse he had rent.

[1] 'On lowe:' in flame.

From Davie's supposed 'Life of Alexander' we extract a description of a battle, which shews some energy of genius:--

A BATTLE

Alisander before is ryde, And many gentle a knight him myde;[1] As for to gather his meinie free, He abideth under a tree: Forty thousand of chivalry He taketh in his company, He dasheth him then fast forthward, And the other cometh afterward. He seeth his knightes in mischief, He taketh it greatly a grief, He takes Bultyphal[2] by the side, So as a swallow he 'ginneth forth glide. A duke of Persia soon he met, And with his lance he him grett. He pierceth his breny, cleaveth his shielde, The hearte tokeneth the yrne; The duke fell downe to the ground, And starf[3] quickly in that stound: Alisander aloud then said, Other toll never I ne paid, Yet ye shallen of mine pay, Ere I go more assay. Another lance in hand he hent, Against the prince of Tyre he went He ... him thorough the breast and thare And out of saddle and crouthe him bare, And I say for soothe thing He brake his neck in the falling. ... with muchel wonder, Antiochus hadde him under, And with sword would his heved[4] From his body have yreaved: He saw Alisander the goode gome, Towards him swithe come, He lete[5] his prey, and flew on horse, For to save his owen corse: Antiochus on steed leap, Of none woundes ne took he keep, And eke he had foure forde All ymade with speares' ord.[6] Tholomeus and all his felawen[7] Of this succour so weren welfawen, Alysander made a cry hardy, 'Ore tost aby aby.' Then the knightes of Achay Jousted with them of Araby, They of Rome with them of Mede, Many land.... Egypt jousted with them of Tyre, Simple knights with riche sire: There n'as foregift ne forbearing Betweene vavasour[8] ne king; Before men mighten and behind Cunteck[9] seek and cunteck find. With Persians foughten the Gregeys,[10] There was cry and great honteys.[11] They kidden[12] that they weren mice, They broken speares all to slice. There might knight find his pere, There lost many his distrere:[13] There was quick in little thraw,[14] Many gentle knight yslaw: Many arme, many heved[15] Some from the body reaved: Many gentle lavedy[16] There lost quick her amy.[17] There was many maim yled,[18] Many fair pensel bebled:[19] There was swordes liklaking,[20] There was speares bathing, Both kinges there sans doute Be in dash'd with all their route, &c.

[1] 'Myde:' with. [2] 'Bultyphal:' Bucephalus. [3] 'Starf:' died. [4] 'Heved: head. [5] 'Lete:' left. [6] 'Ord:' point. [7] 'Felawen;' fellows. [7] 'Vavasour:' subject. [8] 'Cunteck:' strife. [9] 'Gregeys:' Greeks. [10] 'Honteys:' shame. [11] 'Kidden:' thought. [12] 'Distrere:' horse. [13] 'Little thraw:' short time. [14] 'Heved:' head. [15] 'Lavedy:' lady. [16] 'Amy:' paramour. [17] 'Yled:' led along, maimed. [18] 'Many fair pensel bebled:' many a banner sprinkled with blood. [19] 'Liklaking:' clashing.

Davie was also the author of an original poem, entitled, 'Visions in Verse,' and of the 'Battle of Jerusalem,' in which he versifies a French romance. In this production Pilate is represented as challenging our Lord to single combat!

In 1349, died Richard Rollo, a hermit, and a verse-writer. He lived a secluded life near the nunnery of Hampole in Yorkshire, and wrote a number of devotional pieces, most of them very dull. In 1350, Lawrence Minot produced some short narrative ballads on the victories of Edward III., beginning with Halidon Hill, and ending with the siege of Guisnes Castle. His works lay till the end of the last century obscure in a MS. of the Cotton Collection, which was supposed to be a transcript of the Works of Chaucer. On a spare leaf of the MS. there had been accidentally written a name, probably that of its original possessor, 'Richard Chawsir.' This the getter-up of the Cotton catalogue imagined to be the name of Geoffrey Chaucer. Mr Tyrwhitt, while foraging for materials to his edition of 'The Canterbury Tales,' accidentally found out who the real writer was; and Ritson afterwards published Minot's ballads, which are ten in number, written in the northern dialect, and in an alliterative style, and with considerable spirit and liveliness. He has been called the Tyrtaeus of his age.

We come now to the immediate predecessor of Chaucer--Robert Langlande. He was a secular priest, born at Mortimer's Cleobury, in Shropshire, and educated at Oriel College, Oxford. He wrote, towards the end of the fourteenth century, a very remarkable work, entitled, 'Visions of William concerning Piers Plowman.' The general object of this poem is to denounce the abuses of society, and to inculcate, upon both clergy and laity, their respective duties. One William is represented as falling asleep among the Malvern Hills, and sees in his dream a succession of visions, in which great ingenuity, great boldness, and here and there a powerful vein of poetry, are displayed. Truth is described as a magnificent tower, and Falsehood as a deep dungeon. In one canto Religion descends, and gives a long harangue about what should be the conduct of society and of individuals. Bribery and Falsehood, in another part of the poem, seek a marriage with each other, and make their way to the courts of justice, where they find many friends. Some very whimsical passages are introduced. The Power of Grace confers upon Piers Plowman, who stands for the Christian Life, four stout oxen, to cultivate the field of Truth. These are Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, the last of whom is described as the gentlest of the team. She afterwards assigns him the like number of stots or bullocks, to harrow what the evangelists had ploughed, and this new horned team consists of Saint or Stot Ambrose, Stot Austin, Stot Gregory, and Stot Jerome.

Apart from its fantastic structure, 'Piers Plowman' was not only a sign of the times, but did great service in its day. His voice rings like that of Israel's minor prophets--like Nahum or Hosea--in a dark and corrupt age. He proclaims liberal and independent sentiments, he attacks slavery and superstition, and he predicts the doom of the Papacy as with a thunder-knell. Chaucer must have felt roused to his share of the reformatory work by the success of 'Piers Plowman;' Spenser is suspected to have read and borrowed from him; and even Milton, in his description of a lazar-house in 'Paradise Lost,' had him probably in his eye. (See our last extract from 'Piers.')

On account of the great merit and peculiarity of this work we proceed to make rather copious extracts.

HUMAN LIFE.

Then 'gan I to meten[1] a marvellous sweven,[2] That I was in wilderness, I wist never where: As I beheld into the east, on high to the sun, I saw a tower on a loft, richly ymaked, A deep dale beneath, a dungeon therein, With deep ditches and dark, and dreadful of sight: A fair field full of folk found I there between, Of all manner men, the mean and the rich, Working and wand'ring, as the world asketh; Some put them to the plough, playeden full seld, In setting and sowing swonken[3] full hard: And some put them to pride, &c.

[1] 'Meten:' dream. [2] 'Sweven:' dream. [3] 'Swonken:' toiled.

ALLEGORICAL PICTURES.