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“I dought neither speak to prince or peer,

Nor ask of grace from fair ladye.”
“Now hold thy peace!” the lady said,


say, so it must be."

“For as

He has gotten a coat of the even cloth,

And a pair of shoes of velvet green ;
And till seven years were gone and past,

True Thomas on earth was never seen.


This ancient and beautiful romantic ballad is given from Percy's Reliques, in which it was first published, from that folio MS. about whose existence the late Mr Ritson was so sceptical. Percy confessed that he was tempted to add several stanzas to the first part, and still more in the second, to connect and complete the story in the manner which appeared to him most interesting and affecting. How much it owes to his taste and genius we have not the means of ascertaining ; but that his interpolations and additions have been very considerable, any one acquainted with ancient minstrelsy will have little room to doubt. We suspect, too, that the original ballad had a less melancholy catastrophe, and that the brave Sir Cauline, after his combat with the “hend Soldan,” derived as much benefit from the leechcraft of fair Christabelle, as he did after winning the Eldritch sword.

Between this ballad and some parts of the metrical romance of Sir Tristrem, the late Mr Finlay of Glasgow affects to discover a resemblance, but he has not condescended to trace a parallel between them. Indeed, we cannot help thinking, for all he says to the contrary, that his reasoning is no whit superior to Fluellin's : “There is a river at Macedon, and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth :” and, according to Mr Finlay,

There is an Irish king and his daughter in Sir Cauline ;” and there is


“also moreover an Irish king and his daughter in Sir Tristrem." The concealed love of Sir Cauline for one so much above him in station will remind the reader of the gentle

Squyer of lowe degré

That loved the king's doughter of Hungre." -MOTHERWELL.



IN Ireland, ferr over the sea,

There dwelleth a bonnye kinge;
And with him a yong and comlye knighte,

Men call him Sir Cauline.

The kinge had a ladye to his daughter,

In fashyon she hath no peere;
And princely wightes that ladye wooed,

To be theyr wedded feere.

Sir Cauline loveth her best of all,

But nothing durst he saye;
Ne descreeve his counsayl to no man,

But deerlye he loved this may.

Till on a day it so befell

Great dool to him was dight;
The mayden's love removde his mynd,

To care-bed went the knighte.

One while he spred his armes him fro,

One while he spred them nye;
"And aye! but I winne that ladyes love,

For dole now I mun dye.”

And when our parish mass was done,

Our king was bowne to dyne : He says, "Where is Sir Cauline,

That is wont to serve the wyne?

e ?"

Then aunswerde him a courteous knighte,

And fast his handes gan wringe: “Sir Cauline is sicke, and like to dye,

Without a good leechinge.” "Fetche me downe my daughter deere,

She is a leeche fulle fine; Goe take him doughe and the baken bread, And serve him with the wyne so red;

Lothe I were him to tine.”

Fair Christabelle to his chamber goes,

Her maydens following nye; “O well,” she saith, “how doth my lord ?

O sicke, thou fair ladye." “Now ryse up, wightyle man, for shame,

Never lye soe cowardlee,
For it is told in my father's halle

You dye for love of me."
“Fayre ladye, it is for your love,

That all this dill I drye. For if you wold comfort me with a kisse, Then were I brought from bale to blisse,

No longer would I lye.”
“Sir knight, my father is a kinge,

I am his onlye heire;
Alas! and well you knowe, sir knighte,

I never can be your fere.”

“O ladye, thou art a kinge's daughter,

And I am not thy peere;
But let me do some deeds of armes,

To be your bacheleere."

“Some deeds of armes, if thou wilt doe,

My bacheleere to be,
(But ever and aye my heart wold rue,

Giff harm should happe to thee.)

"Upon Eldritch hill there groweth a thorne

Upon the mores brodinge ;
And dare ye, sir knight, wake there all

Until the fayre morning?

"For the Eldritch knight, so mickle of

Will examine you beforne;
And never man bare life awaye,

But he did him scaith and scorne.

“That knight he is a foul paynim,

And large of limb and bone;
And but if Heaven may be thy speede,

Thy life it is but gone."

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“Now on the Eldritch hill I'll walk

For thy sake, fair ladye;
And I'll either bring you a ready token,

Or I'll never more you see.”
“Mores brodinge :” This phrase is obscure. Mother-
well supposes that it means a thorn broading, or spread-
ing on the moors."


The lady has gone to her own chaumbere,

Her maidens following bright;
Sir Cauline lope from care-bed soone,
And to the Eldritch hills is gone,

For to walk there all night.
Unto midnight, that the moone did rise,

He walked up and down;
Then a lightsome bugle heard he blowe

Over the bents so brown;
Quoth he, "If cryance come till my heart,

I am far from any good town.” And soon he spied on the mores so broad,

A furious wight and fell;
A ladye bright his brydle led,

Clad in a fayre kyrtle :
And soe faste he called on Sir Cauline,

“O man I rede thee fly,
For but if cryance comes till thy heart,

I weene but thou mun dye.” He saith, “No cryance comes till my heart,

Nor in faith, I will not flee; For cause thou minged not Christ before,

The less me dreadeth thee.”
The Eldritch knighte, he pricked his steed;

Sir Cauline bold abode :
Then either shooke his trustye speare,
And the timber these two children bare,

Soe soone in sunder slode.
Then took they out theyr two good swordes,

And layden on full faste, Till helme and howberke, mail and shield,

They all were well-nye brast.

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