wolde ffall, yff all the commons were pouere? Trewly it is lyke that this lande then shulde be like vnto the reaume off Boeme [Bohemia], wher the commons ffor pouerte rose apon the nobles, and made all thair godis to be comune. . . Item, the reaume off Ffraunce givith neuer ffrely off thair owne gode will any subsidie to thair prince, be cause the commons theroff be so pouere, as thai mey not give any thyng off thair owne godis. And the kyng ther askith neuer subsidie off is nobles, ffor drede that yff he charged hem so, hai wolde confedre with the commons, and perauentur putt hym doune. But owre commons be riche, and thefore thai give to thair kynge, at somme tymes quinsimes [fifteenths] and dessimes [tenths], and ofte tymes other grete subsidies, as he hath nede ffor the gode and defence off his reaume. How gret a subsidie was it, when the reaume gaff to thair kyng a quinsime and a desime quinqueniale, and the ixth fflese [fleece] off thair wolles, and also the ixth shefe off ther graynes, ffor the terme off v. yere. This myght thai not haue done, yff thai hade ben impouershed be thair kyng, as be the commons off Ffraunce; nor such a graunte hath be made by any reaume off cristendome, off wich any cronicle makith mencion; nor non other mey or hath cause to do so. Ffor thai haue not so much ffredome in thair owne godis, nor be entreted by so ffauerable lawes as we be, except a ffewe regions be ffore specified. Item, we se dayly, how men that haue lost thair godis, and be ffallen into pouerte, be comme anon robbers and theves; wich wolde not haue ben soche, yff pouerte hade not brought hem therto. Howe many a theff then were like to be in this lande, yff all the commons were pouere. The grettest surete trewly, and also the most honour that mey come to the kynge is, that is reaume be riche in euery estate. Ffor nothyng mey make is people to arise, but lakke off gode, or lakke off justice. But yet sertanly when thay lakke gode thai woll aryse, sayng that thai lakke justice. Neuer the les yff thai be not pouere; thay will neuer aryse, but yff ther prince so leve justice, that he give hym selff all to tyranne. (Chap. xii.)

Fortescue thus enlarges on English courage : It is not pouerte that kepith Ffrenchmen ffro rysinge, but it is cowardisse and lakke off hartes and corage, wich no Ffrenchman hath like vnto a Englysh man. It hath ben offten tymes sene in Englande, that iij. or iiij. theves ffor pouerte haue sett apon vj. or vij. trewe men, and robbed hem all. But it hath not bene sene in Ffraunce, that vj. or vij. theves haue be hardy to robbe iij. or iiij. trewe men. Wherfore it is right selde that Ffrenchmen be hanged ffor robbery, ffor thai haue no hartes to do so terable an acte. Ther bith therfore mo men hanged in Englande in a yere ffor robbery and manslaughter, then ther be hanged in Ffraunce ffor such maner of crime in vij. yeres. Ther is no man hanged in Scotlande in vij. yere togedur ffor robbery. And yet thai ben often tymes hanged ffor larceny, and stelyngé off good in the absence off the owner theroff. But thar hartes serue hem not to take a manys gode, while he is present, and woll defende it; wich maner off takynge is callid robbery. But the Englysh man is off another corage. Ffor yff he be pouere, and see another man havynge rychesse, wich mey be taken ffrom hym be myght, he will not spare to do so, but yff that pouere man be right trewe. Wherfore it is not pouerte, but it is lakke off harte and cowardisse, that kepith the Ffrenchmen ffro rysynge. (From Chap. xiii.)

Reginald Pecock was a keen-witted theologian, who by too venturesome arguments in support of orthodoxy fell into condemnation. Born in Wales about 1395, he was a fellow of Oriel, Oxford, and received priest's orders in 1422. His preferments were the mastership of Whittington College, London, together with the rectory of its church (1431); the bishopric of St Asaph's (1444), and that of Chichester (1450). He plunged into the Lollard and other controversies of the day, and compiled many treatises, of which the Donet (c. 1440), on the main truths of Christianity, is extant in MS.; and his Treatise on Faith (c. 1456) was partly printed in 1688. The object of his most famous work, The Repressor of Over Much Blaming of the Clergy (c. 1455), was to promote the cause of the Church against Lollardy. His breadth and independence of judgment brought upon him the suspicions of the Church. In 1457 he was denounced for having written on profound questions in English, for setting reason and natural law above the Scriptures, and for diminishing the authority of the fathers and doctors. He was summoned before Archbishop Bourchier, condemned as a heretic, and given the alternative of abjuring his errors or being burned. Electing to abjure, he gave up fourteen of his books to be burnt, and, forced into resigning his bishopric, spent the rest of his days in the abbey of Thorney in Cambridgeshire, dying about 1460. The Repressor is acutely logical -to the point of being casuistical—in argument, and in style is wonderfully clear and vigorous. It deals chiefly with the Lollard arguments against images, pilgrimages, clerical landholding, hierarchical distinctions, papal and episcopal authority, and monasticism.

Refuting the Lollards' denunciation of the monastic orders as unscriptural, Pecock thus begins an argument from the first chapter of the Epistle of St James:

The firste of these iiij. argumentis is this: It is writun, Iames the i. c., thus: A cleene religioun and an vnwemmed anentis God and the Fadir is this; to visite fadirles and modirlees children and widowis in her tribulacioun, and to kepe him silf vndefilid fro this world. Out of this text a man may argue in twei maners. In oon maner thus: Iames assigneth this gouernaunce now rehercid in his text to be a cleene religioun and an vnwemmed [undefiled] anentis [before] God and the Fadir; wherfore noon other gouernaunce saue this same, as bi the entent and meenyng of Iames in his now rehercid text, is a cleene religioun and vnwemmed anentis God and the Fadir; and so the religiouns now had and vsid in the chirche ben not cleene and vnwemmed anentis God and the Fadir. In an other maner thus: What euer religioun lettith and biforbarrith [hinders and disallows], 3he [yea], and forbedith the religioun to be doon and vsid, which is a clene and vnwemmed religioun anentis God and the Fadir, is an vnleeful [unlawful] religioun, and not worthi be had and vsid.

See James Gairdner's Studies in English History (1881), Churchill Babington's edition of the Repressor in the 'Rolls Series (1860), and the Life by John Lewis (1774; reprinted 1820).

Sir Thomas Malory.

While English was thus being recognised as the language in which an English theologian, jurist, or historian should naturally write, the work of translation still went on; but the book to which we must now turn, Le Morte D'Arthur of Sir Thomas Malory, though avowedly a compilation from various French sources, stands in a very different category from the renderings of Palladius On Husbandry, of the Secreta Secretorum (falsely attributed to Aristotle), of the Sayings of the Philosophers, and other works which translators were now rendering accessible to English readers. Despite the ridicule which Chaucer had cast on the romances in his Sir Thopas, English versifiers still continued to handle and rehandle them. Thus there are fifteenth-century versions of a long series of Charlemagne romances, of Guy of Warwick and Bevis of Hampton. Thomas Chester, in the second quarter of the century, wrote a metrical romance of Sir Launfal; and there are two versions (known as the 'Thornton' and the 'Harleian' from the MSS. which preserve them) of the Morte D'Arthur. The work which Malory undertook was of a different character, being nothing less than the welding into some approach to unity of the whole Arthurian cycle. Until 1896 nothing was known of Malory beyond the information given in the first edition printed by Caxton in 1485. In his preface Caxton tells us how he, ' under the favour and correctyon of al noble lordes and gentylmen, enprysed to enprynte a book of the noble hystoryes of the sayd kynge Arthur, and of certeyn of his knyghtes, after a copye unto me delyverd, whyche copye Syr Thomas Malorye dyd take oute of certeyn bookes of Frensshe and reduced it into Englysshe.' Besides this note of Caxton's we have the author's own farewell to his readers : And here is the ende of the deth of Arthur. I praye you all jentyl men and jentyl wymmen that redeth this book of Arthur and his knyghtes from the begynnyng to the endyng, praye for me whyle I am on lyve that God sende me good delyveraunce, and whan I am deed I praye you all praye for my soule. For this book was ended the ix. yere of the regne of kyng Edward the fourth, by syr Thomas Maleore knyght, as Ihesu helpe hym for hys grete myght, as he is the seruaunt of Ihesu bothe day and nyght.

In 1896 it was pointed out that the name of a Sir Thomas Malorie occurs among those of a number of Lancastrians excluded from a general pardon granted by Edward IV. in 1468. Further research, mainly by Professor Kittredge, identified this outlaw with a Sir Thomas Malory of Newbold Revell, Warwickshire, an adherent of Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, and afterwards, probably, for a time, of Warwick the King-maker. This Malory represented his county in the Parliament of 1444-45, died on 14th March 1471, and was buried in the chapel of St Francis at the Grey Friars near Newgate. Of his fortunes between his

outlawry in 1468 and his death in 1471 we have no information, but the petition, 'praye for me whyle I am on lyve that God sende me good delyveraunce, and whan I am deed I praye you a" praye for my soule,' seems peculiarly appropriate to these glimpses which we catch of an outlaw under the shadow of impending death. The end of the thirty-seventh chapter of Malory's Book ix certainly heightens the probability of the identifi cation. There he writes:

So sire Tristram endured there grete payne, for seke nesse had undertake hym, and that is the grettest payne a prysoner maye have. For alle the whyle a prysoner may have his helthe of body, he maye endure under the mercy of God and in hope of good delyveraunce. But whanne sekenes toucheth a prysoners body thenne may a prysoner say al welthe is hym berafte, and thenne he hath cause to wayle and to wepe. Ryght so dyd syre Tristram whanne sekenes had undertake hym, for thenne he tooke suche sorou that he had almost slayne hym self.

It is difficult not to find in the simple pathos of these words a touch of the feeling born of personal suffering; and in the first chapter of Book xxi. we seem to find once more a personal note very suitable to one who had fought on both sides in the civil war and had at last grown weary of change:

Than was the comyn voys emonge them, that wyth Arthur was none other lyf but warre and stryffe, and wyth Syr Mordred was grete joye and blysse. Thus was syr Arthur depraved and evyl sayd of. And many ther were that kyng Arthur had made up of nought and gyven them landes myght not than say hym a good worde. Lo ye, al Englissh men, see ye not what a myschyef here was? For he that was the moost kyng and knyght of the world and moost loved the felyship of noble knyghtes, and by hym they were al upholden, now myght not this Englyssh men holde them contente wyth hym. Loo, thus was the olde custome and usage of this londe. And also men saye that we of thys londe have not yet loste ne foryeten [forgotten] that custome and usage. Alas, thys is a grete defaulte of us Englysshe men. For there may no thynge plese us noo terme [i.e. no length of time].

If we may accept the identification which these passages certainly support, Malory through his connection with the Warwicks must have seen whatever of the pomp of chivalry endured amid the horrors of the civil wars. He must have been, however, an old man when he wrote his book, for he is credited with having served at the siege of Rouen in 1418, and so could hardly have been born after 1400. But we must turn now from the man to his book, and note in the first place that literary antiquaries have traced the greater part of it, chapter by chapter, to the Merlin of Robert de Borron and his successors (Books i.-iv.); to the English metrical romance, La1

1 It may be noted that the English romances are indifferently called Le Morte and La Morte, the masculine referring to the title regarded as a phrase, and the feminine to the proper gender of mort. How thoroughly the title had passed into a phrase is shown by Malory's own choice of it for a work which tells Arthur's whole history, beginning with his parentage.

Morte Arthur of the Thornton MS. (Book v.), the French romances of Tristan (Books viii.-x.) and of Launcelot (Books vi., xi.-xix.); and lastly, to the English Morte Arthur of the Harleian MS. (Books xviii., xx., xxi.), or perhaps rather to its French source. No original has yet been found for Book vii., which tells the story of Sir Gareth; and in Book xviii., chap. 20, which describes the arrival of the body of the Fair Maiden of Astolat, and chap. 25, which discourses on True Love, have been singled out as original additions; but in the main the work is, what it professes to be, a compilation from Frensshe bookes.' It is perhaps worth noting that in 1464 Raoul Le Fèvre, chaplain of Philip the Good of Burgundy, had in a similar way 'composed and drawn out of divers books in Latin into French' his Le Recueil des Histoires de Troie, and that while Malory was at work on the Morte D'Arthur Caxton was busy translating the Recueil into English. It is possible that it was Le Fèvre's 'Troy book' which gave Malory the idea for his own work; in any case it is worth while mentioning the two books together, because the contrast between them brings into strong relief the difference between the work of Malory and that of an ordinary compiler, even though possessed of Le Fèvre's industry and very respectable skill. There are blemishes in the Morte D'Arthur. The story of Tristram should either have been told more briefly, or have been carried to an end, and there are episodes in which a better version than that used by Malory is now known to exist. But Malory, like every other writer of his day, could only work from the books he was able to procure; and of the insight and sympathy he brought to his task, the judgment with which he selected and omitted, and the skill with which he keeps his work throughout at the highest level of chivalry and romance there cannot be any question. Caxton's words, 'whyche copye Syr Thomas Malorye dyd take oute of certeyn bookes of Frensshe,' seem to point to his having printed from the author's own manuscript. But this was obviously left unrevised, for the printer himself had to act as a clumsy editor, dividing the work into books and chapters, and adding chapterheadings. For lack of revision disjointed sentences and awkward constructions are occasionally to be found, but in general Malory's style possesses that highest merit of perfect adaptation to its subject. Our extracts follow, with modern punctuation, Caxton's text as edited by Dr H. Oskar Sommer in 1889. The first relates to Arthur's famous sword, Excalibur :

Howe Arthur by the meane of Merlin gate Excalibur his sterde of the Lady of the Lake: Ryghte so the kyng and he departed & wente untyl an ermyte that was a good man and a grete leche. Soo the heremyte serched all his woundys & gaf hym good salves; so the king was there thre dayes, and thenne were his woundes wel amendyd that he myght ryde and goo, & so departed. And as they rode Arthur said, 'I have no swerd.' 'No force' [No matter], said Merlin; 'here-by is a swerd that

shalle be yours and [if] I may.' Soo they rode tyl they came to a lake, the whiche was a fayr water and brood, and in the myddes of the lake Arthur was ware of an arme clothed in whyte samyte, that held a fayr swerd in that hand. 'Loo,' said Merlin, yonder is that swerd that I spak of.' With that they sawe a damoisel goyng upon the lake: 'What damoysel is that?' said Arthur. 'That is the lady of the lake,' said Merlin; ' and within that lake is a roche, and theryn is as fayr a place as ony on erthe, and rychely besene [arrayed], and this damoysell wylle come to yow anone, and thenne speke ye fayre to her that she will gyve yow that swerd." Anone with-all came the damoysel unto Arthur and salewed hym, and he her ageyne. 'Damoysel,' said Arthur, 'what swerd is that, that yonder the arme holdeth above the water? I wold it were myne, for I have no swerd.' 'Syr Arthur, kynge,' said the damoysell, that swerd is myn, and yf ye will gyve me a yefte [gift] whan I aske it yow, ye shal have it.' By my feyth,' said Arthur, I will yeve yow what yefte ye will aske.' 'Wel,' said the damoisel, 'go ye into yonder barge & rowe yourself to the swerd, and take it and [the] scaubart with yow, and I will aske my yeste whan I see my tyme. So syr Arthur & Merlyn alyght, & tayed their horses to two trees, & so they went into the ship, & whanne they came to the swerd that the hand held, syre Arthur toke it up by the handels & toke it with hym-and the arme & the hand went under the water; & so come unto the lond & rode forth.' (Book i. chap. 25.)

The constant single combats in the Morte D'Arthur are apt to seem a little monotonous to modern readers. The specimen of them which follows is not only good in itself, but is diversified by an interest of another kind. Gareth, a younger son of the Queen of Orkney, on arriving in disguise at Arthur's court had asked as the first of the king's promised boons only that he should have his meat and drink for a twelvemonth. The request was thought plebeian, and Sir Kay, the seneschal, while he dubbed him Beaumains because of his fair hands, kept the lad in the kitchen. At the end of the year, when a damsel came to Arthur's court for a knight to help her mistress, Beaumains demanded and was granted the quest, much to the anger of the damsel, who, despite the exploits he soon performed, continued to rail at him as a kitchen-knave. Our extract relates to his combat with the second of a series of four knights, Black, Green, Red, and of the colour of Ind [i.e. indigo, or blue]: '

How the brother of the knight that was slain mette with Beaumains and fought with Beaumains til he was yelden [yielded]: Thus as they rode to-gyders they sawe a knyght come dryvend [riding quickly] by them, al in grene, bothe his hors & his harneis; and whanne he came nyghe the damoysel he asked her, 'Is that my broder the Black Knyghte that ye have brought with yow?' 'Nay, nay,' she sayd, this unhappy kechen knave hath slayne your broder thorou unhappinesse [mischance].' 'Allas,' sayd the Grene Knyghte, 'that is grete pyte that soo noble a knyghte as he was shold soo unhappely be slaine, and namely [especially] of a knaves hand, as ye say that he A traytour,' sayd the Grene Knyghte, thou shalt dye for sleynge of my broder. He was a ful noble

is.

knyghte, and his name was syr Pereard.' 'I defye the,' said Beaumayns, for I lete the wete I slewe hym knyghtely, and not shamefully.' There-with-al the Grene Knyghte rode unto an horne that was grene, and hit henge [it hung] upon a thorne, and there he blewe thre dedely motys [calls], and there came two damoysels and armed hym lyghtely. And thenne he took a grete hors, and a grene shelde and a grene spere. And thenne they ranne to-gyders with al their myghtes, and brake their speres unto their handes, and thenne they drewe their swerdes, and gaf many sadde strokes, and either of them wounded other ful yll. And at the last at an overthwart [cross-encounter] Beaumayns with his hors strake the Grene Knyghtes hors upon the syde, that he felle to the erthe. And thenne the Grene Knyghte avoyded his hors lightly, and dressid hym [made himself ready] upon foote. That sawe Beaumayns, and there-with-al he alighte, and they rasshed [rushed] to-gyders lyke two myghty kempys [champions] a longe whyle, and sore they bledde both. With that cam the damoysel and said, 'My lorde the Grene Knyghte, why for shame stand ye soo longe fyghtyng with the kechyn knave? Allas, it is shame that ever ye were made knyghte, to see suche a ladde to matche suche a knyghte, as [as if] the wede overgrewe the corne.' There-with the Grene Knyght was ashamed, and there-with-al he gaf a grete stroke of myghte, & clafe his shelde thorow. Whan Beaumayns sawe his shelde cloven a-sonder he was a lytel ashamed of that stroke, and of her langage; and thenne he gaf hym suche a buffet upon the helme that he felle on his knees and soo sodenly Beaumayns pulled hym upon the ground grovelynge. And thenne the Grene Knyghte cryed hym mercy, and yelded hym unto syre Beaumayns, and prayd hym to slee him not. 'Al is in vayn,' said Beaumayns, for thou shalt dye, but yf [unless] this damoysel that came with me praye me to save thy lyf.' And ther-with-al he unlaced his helme, lyke as he wold slee [slay] hym. 'Fy upon the, false kechen page, I wyll never pray the to save his lyf, for I will never be soo moche in thy daunger [obliged to you].' 'Thenne shalle he deye,' sayde Beaumayns. Not soo hardy, thou bawdy [dirty] knave,' sayd the damoysel, that thou slee hym.' 'Allas,' said the Grene Knyghte, 'suffre me not to dye, for a fayre word may save me. Fayr knygt,' said the Grene Knyghte, save my lyf, & I wyl foryeve the [thee] the dethe of my broder, and for ever to become thy man, and xxx knyghtes that hold of me for ever shal doo you servyse.' 'In the devyl's name,' sayd the damoysel, 'that suche a bawdy kechen knave shold have the and thyrtty knyghtes servyse.' 'Sir knyght,' said Beaumayns, 'alle this avaylleth the not, but yf my damoysel speke with me for thy lyf.' And ther-with-al he made a semblaunt [pretence] to slee hym. 'Lete be,' sayd the damoysel, 'thou baudy knave, slee hym not; for and thou do, thou shalte repente it.' 'Damoysel,' said Beaumayns, 'your charge is to me a pleasyr, and at your commaundement his lyf shal be saved, & els not.' Thenne he said, 'Sir Knyghte with the grene armes, I releace the quyte at this damoysels request; for I wylle not make her wrothe; I wille fulfylle al that she chargeth me.' And thenne the Grene Knyghte kneled doune, and dyd hym homage with his swerd. Thenne said the damoisel, 'Me repenteth, Grene Knyghte, of your dommage [hurt], and of youre broders dethe the Black Knyghte; for of your help I had grete myster [need]; for I drede me sore to passe

this forest.' 'Nay, drede you not,' sayd the Grena Knyghte, 'for ye shal lodge with me this nyghte, a to-morne I shalle helpe you thorou this forest.' Soo they tooke theyre horses and rode to his manoyr, whiche was fast there besyde. (Book vii. chap. El

While this extract shows how a knight could endure and overcome a lady's caprice, our nex exhibits the serious and religious aspect of knighterrantry at its highest :

How syr Boors mette syr Lyonel taken and beten wy!! thornes, and also a mayde which shold have been devour.i. Upon the morne, as soone as the day appiered, B departed from thens, and soo rode in-to a foreste vnto the houre of mydday, and there bifelle hym a merveylos adventure. So he mette at the departyng of the two wayes two knyghtes, that ledde Lyonel his broder d naked, bounden upon a straunge hakney, & his hands bounden to-fore his brest: And everyche [each] of hea helde in his handes thornes, where-with they wente betyng hym so sore that the blood trayled doune more than in honderd places of his body, soo that he was al blood tofore and behynde, but he said never a word, as he whiche was grete of herte; he suffred alle that ever they dyd to hym as though he had felte none anguysshe. Anone syre Bors dressid hym to rescowe hym that was his brode: and soo he loked upon the other syde of hym, and save a knyghte whiche brought a fair gentylwoman, and wod have set her in the thyckest place of the forest, for to have ben the more surer oute of the way from hem that sought hym. And she, whiche was no thynge assured, cryed with an hyghe voys, 'Saynte Mary, socoure your mayde!'

And anone she aspyed where syre Bors came rydynge. And whanne she came nygh hym, she demed hym a knyghte of the Round Table, wherof she hoped to have some comforte; and thenne she conjured hym, by the feythe that he ought [owed] 'unto hym in whos servyse thow arte entryd in [i.e. Christ], and for the feythe ye owe unto the hyghe ordre of knyghthode, & for the noble kyng Arthurs sake, that I suppose made the [thee] knyght, that thow help me, and suffre me not to be shamed of this knyghte.'

Whanne Bors herd her say thus, he had soo moche sorowe there he nyst [knew] not what to doo. For y I lete [leave] my broder be in adventure [risk] he must be slayne, and that wolde I not for alle the erthe. And yf I helpe not the mayde, she is shamed for ever, and also she shall lese her vyrgynyte, the whiche she shal never gete ageyne.' Thenne lyfte he up his eyen, and sayd wepynge, 'Fair swete lord Jhesu Cryste, whoos lyege man I am, kepe Lyonel my broder that these knyghtes slee hym not; and for pyte of yow, and for Mary sake, I shalle socoure this mayde.'

(Book xvi. chap. 9)

Lastly we may take a passage from an episode which, even without the popular currency which has been given to it by Tennyson's 'Elaine,' might deservedly be famous-that which tells of the arrival at Arthur's court of the body of the fair maid who died because she could not win Lancelot to love her:

How the corps of the Mayde of Astolat arryved before Kyng Arthur: Soo by fortune [chance] kynge Arthur and the quene Guenevere were spekynge to-gyders at a wyndowe, and soo as they loked in to Temse [Thames]

they aspyed this blak barget, and hadde marvelle what it mente. Thenne the kynge called sire Kay & shewed hit hym. Sir,' said sir Kay, 'wete you wel there is some newe tydynges.' 'Goo thyder,' sayd the kynge to sir Kay, and take with yow sire Brandyles and Agravayne and brynge me redy word what is there.' Thenne these four knyghtes departed and came to the barget and wente in, and there they fond [found] the fayrest corps lyenge in a ryche bedde and a poure man sittyng in the bargets ende, and no word wold he speke. Soo these foure knyghtes retorned unto the kyng ageyne and told hym what they fond. That fayr corps wylle I see,' sayd the kynge. And soo thenne the kyng took the quene by the hand & went thydder. Thenne the kynge made the barget to be holden fast, and thenne the kyng and the quene entred with certayn knygtes wyth them, and there he sawe the fayrest woman lye in a ryche bedde, coverd unto her myddel with many ryche clothes, and alle was of clothe of gold, and she lay as though she had smyled. Thenne the quene aspyed a letter in her ryght hand and told it to the kynge. Thenne the kynge took it and sayd, 'Now am I sure this letter wille telle what she was, and why she is come hydder.' Soo thenne the kynge and the quene wente oute of the barget, and so commaunded a certayne wayte [watch] upon the barget. And soo whan the kynge was come within his chamber he called many knyghtes aboute hym, and saide that he wold wete [know] openly what was wryten within that letter. Thenne the kynge brake it, and made a clerke to rede hit, and this was the entente [purport] of the letter: Moost noble knyghte sir Launcelot, now hath dethe made us two at debate for your love. I was your lover that men called the fayre mayden of Astolat. Therfor unto alle ladyes I make my mone. Yet praye for my soule and bery me atte [at the] leest, and offre ye my masse peny. This is my last request. And a clene mayden I dyed, I take God to wytnes. Pray for my soule, sir Launcelot, as thou art pierles [peerless].' This was alle the substance in the letter, and whan it was redde the kyng, the quene, and alle the knyghtes wepte for pyte of the doleful complayntes.

(Book xviii. chap. 20.) 'Herein may be seen,' wrote Caxton of the Morte D'Arthur, 'noble chyvalrye, curtosye, humanyte, frendlynesse, hardynesse, love, frendshyp, cowardyse, murdre, hate, vertue and synne. Doo after

the good and leve the evyl and it shal brynge you to good fame and renommee.' That is perhaps the best comment that has been passed on a book at which some good men, since the days of Ascham, have shaken their heads, but which, as even our few extracts will have shown, epitomises in itself so much of the magic, the pity, and the chivalry of the old romances, that it ranks high among the masterpieces of our literature.

William Caxton.

The manuscript of the Morte D'Arthur has disappeared, and the book is thus the first English classic for which we are dependent on a printed text, Caxton's edition, printed in 1485, being itself so rare that only two copies of it are known, while one of these is imperfect. When Caxton published

it he himself had been engaged in printing for about ten years, and the art had been invented for rather over thirty.

Even in the days of manuscripts books had been manufactured for the English market in Flanders and the north of France, and as early as about 1475 a Breviary for English use had been printed at Cologne. By an Act of Richard III. special facilities were granted for the importation of books from abroad, and while one Sarum missal was printed at Basel and others at Venice, numbers of English service-books came from Paris or Rouen, and the Latin grammars for use in English schools were mostly printed in France and the Low Countries. Other books cannot be ear-marked in the same way, but the presses of Venice, Paris, Basel, and Cologne supplied the learned books needed by English scholars with sufficient completeness to deter any English printer from trying to rival them. William Caxton, who set up his press at Westminster in 1476, though a man of real literary taste, was not himself a scholar, and had quite another class of customers in view. Born in the Weald of Kent probably soon after 1420, he had been apprenticed in 1438 to a London mercer, and some time before 1453 had started in business at Bruges. Here in 1462 he was appointed by Edward IV. to the responsible post of Governor of the English Merchants, and continued in this office for some seven or eight years, at the end of which he entered the service of the Duchess Margaret (sister of Edward IV.), who had married Charles the Bold in 1468. In March 1469 he began to translate Raoul Le Fèvre's Recueil des Histoires de Troye, but then laid it on one side till March 1471, when, at the command of the Duchess, he resumed his work and carried it to a completion in the following September. When the book was finished, Caxton was besieged with commissions for copies of it, and as the readiest means of satisfying them turned to the new art of printing. Having watched an edition of the De Proprietatibus Rerum through the press at Cologne, 'himself to advance' in the rudiments of the craft, he associated himself with a Bruges calligrapher, Colard Mansion, and at Bruges the two in partnership printed seven books, Caxton's Recuyell of the Histories of Troy and its French original, Caxton's The Game and Playe of the Chesse (a translation from Jehan de Vignay's French version of the Ludus Scacchorum Moralizatus by Jacopus de Cessolis), Le Fèvre's Les Fais et prouesses du noble et vaillant chevalier Jason, Caxton's English rendering of this, and two French devotional treatises. The translation of the Chessbook was finished 31st March 1475, and all these books were probably printed in 1475-76. But in September 1475 Charles the Bold had begun the unlucky campaigns which two years later ended in his death, and even without the inducement of a quieter market which England thus offered, Caxton had good reason to wish to ply his double craft