How he vainquyshed a Gyaunt with seuen heades, and was receiued of six ladyes.

How he made oblacyon to the goddes Pallas, and sayled over the tempestous flode.

How he dyscomfited the wonderfull monstre of the seven mettalles made by enchauntment.

How he was receiued of la bell Pucell.

The mariage of graunde Amoure and la bell Pucell. How whan graunde Amoure had liued longe wyth la bell Pucell, was arrested by aige, that brought unto him polycy and auaryce.

Howe he was arested by death.

Howe remembraunce made his epytaphy on his graue.

Howe fame came into the temple wyth burnyng tongues, and other prayse.

Howe tyme came into the temple in maruaylous semilitude, and of his replycacyon.

Howe eternyte came into the temple, and of her vertuous exhortacyon.

The excusacion of the auctour."

"This boke, called the pastyme of pleasure, was made and compyled by Stephen Hawes one of the gromes of the most honorable chambre of our souerayne lorde Kynge Henry the seuenth. The xxi yere of his most noble reygne, chapitred and marked after the table herebefore sette."

Then follows the dedication to the King.

Ryght myghty Prynce, and redoubted souerayne,
Saylinge forth well, in the shyppe of grace

Over the waues, of his lyfe uncertayne

Ryght towarde heuen, to haue dwelling place,

Grace dothe you guyde, in euery doubtful cace;

Your gouernaunce dothe euermore eschewe
The synne of slouthe, enemy to vertewe.

Grace stereth wele, the grace of god is grete,
Whiche you hath brought to your ryall se,
And in your right, it hath you surely sette
Aboue us all, to haue the soueraynte,
Whose worthy power, and regall dignite
All our rancour, and our debate and ceace*
Hath to vs brought, both welthe reste and peace.

(Four stanzas are here passed).

Besechyng your grace, to pardon myne ignoraunce
Whiche this fayned fable, to eschue idlenes,
Haue so compyled, nowe without doubtaunce
For to present to your hye worthynes,

To folowe the trace, and all the perfitenes
Of my maistre Lydgate, with due exercise
Suche fayned tales I do fynde and deuyse.

For under coloure, a truthe may aryse

As was the guyse, in old antiquitie,
Of the Poetes olde a tale to surmyse,
To cloke the truthe, of their infirmitie,
Or yet on joye, to haue mortalitie,
I me excuse if by neglygence

That I do offende, for lacke of science."

I would not have so extended this article, was not the book of such extreme rarity, as to be very seldom met with, and then (excepting by accident) of greater

* "Ceace," qu. does it signify tax, subsidy, or trouble and confusion? the verb "to cess," to assess, to impose, was, if I mistake not, in use during the reign of Elizabeth.

price than to warrant any person, but a collector, becoming the purchaser: this will, I hope, plead my excuse.*

P. B.t

Additional extracts from Hawes's Pastime of Pleasure.

The author having, in the preceding chapter, digressed from the tale, in order to introduce "a com endation of Gower, Chaucer, and Lidgate," thus continues. We must, however, premise that the hero, "Graund Amoure," is now in the castle of Doctrine, that he has been received by Grammar, Logic, and Rethoric, and is now about to enter the chamber of Arithmetic.

Chapt. xv.

"Now in my boke, ferder to procede,

To a chambre J wente, replete wyth rychesse,

* Warton has given a very circumstantial, elegant, and interesting analysis of the whole poem in Hist. E. P. II. pp. 220-236. He says it is Hawes's capital performance, and was finished at the beginning of the year 1506; and adds " it is almost the only effort of imagination and invention, which had yet appeared since the days of Chaucer. It contains no common touches of romantic and allegoric fiction. The personifications are often happily sustained, and indicate the writer's familiarity with the Provencial school. The model of the versification and phraseology is that improved harmony of numbers, and facility of diction, with which his predecessor Lydgate adorned our octave stanza. But Hawes has added new graces to Lydgate's manner." Editor.

Hawes is one of the old poets, of whom a republication has been strongly recommended. Perhaps, as a national work, a reprint of a small impression of every old poet of fame would be worthy of literature.

4

Where sat Arysmatryke, in a golden wede,
Lyke a lady pure, and of great worthynes;
The walles about, dyd full well expres,
Wyth golde depaynted, euery perfyte nombre
To adde, detraye, and to deuyde asonder.
The rofe was paynted, with golden beames,
The wyndowes cristall, clerely claryfyde
The golden rayes, and depured streames
Of radyant Phebus, that was puryfyde

Right in the bull, that tyme to domysyde
Through wyndowes, was resplendyshaunt
About the chambre, fayre and radyaunt.
J kneled downe, right soone on my kne,
And to her J sayd, o lady maueylous,
J right humbly beseche your maieste
Your arte to shewe, me so facundyous
Whyche is defuse, and right fallacyous."

"Arysmatryke" grants his request, and explains the nature and utility of her science; from thence Grand Amour proceeds to "the tower of musike," where he meets with La Bell Pucell, and discloses his passion. "The description of her person is," says Warton, "very elegant." Grand Amour relates his various adventures in a supplication to Venus, and describes his first meeting with the lady, who,

Chap. xx.

"Her shining here so properly she dresses
Alofe her forehed with fayre golden tresses.
Her forehead stepe, with fayre browes ybent,
Her eyen gray, her nose streyght and fayre,
In her whyte chekes the fayre bloud it went,
As among the whyte the rede to repayre,
Her mouth right small, her breth swete of ayre,

Her lyppes softe and ruddy as a rose,
No hert on lyue but it wold him appose.

With a lyttle pytte in her well fauoured chynne,
Her necke longe and whyte as ony lylly,
Wyth vaynes blew in which the blode ran inne,
Her paypes round and therto right prety,
Her armes sclender and of goodly body,
Her fingers small, and therto right longe;
White as the milke, with blew vaynes among.

Her fete proper, she gartered well her hose,
I neuer saw so swete a creature ;
Nothing she lacketh as I do suppose

That is longing to fayre dame nature;
Yet more ouer her countenaunce so pure,
So swete, so louely, wold any hert inspyre

Wyth feruent loue to attayne his desyre."

Hawes concludes his volume with the following

"excusation of the aucthoure."

"Unto all Poetes, J do me excuse

Jf that J offende, for lacke of science,

This lyttle boke yet do ye not refuse,

Though it be deuoyde of famous eloquence,

Adde or detra, by your hye sapience,

And pardon me of my hye enterpryse,

Whiche, of late, this fable dyd fayne and deuise.

Go, little boke, I praye God the saue

From misse metryng, by wrong impression,

And who that euer list the for to haue,
That he perceyue well thyne intencion
For to be grounded, without presumption,
As for to eschue the synne of ydlenes,
To make suche bokes J apply my busines.