VIII.

Did Robin of Portingale.

FROM an ancient copy in the Editor's folio MS., which was judged to require considerable corrections.

In the former edition, the hero of this piece had been called Sir Robin, but that title not being in the MS. is now omitted.

LET never again soe old a man
Marrye soe yonge a wife,

As did old Robin of Portingale;

Who may rue all the dayes of his life.

For the mayors daughter of Lin, god wott,
He chose her to his wife,

5

And thought with her to have lived in love,
But they fell to hate and strife.

They scarce were in their wed-bed laid,
And scarce was hee asleepe,

10

But

upp shee rose, and forth shee goes, To the steward, and gan to weepe.

Sleepe you, wake you, faire sir Gyles?
Or be you not within?

Sleepe you, wake you, faire sir Gyles,
Arise and let me inn.

O, I am waking, sweete, he said,
Sweete ladye, what is your will?
I have unbethought me of a wile
How my wed-lord weell spill.

Ver. 19, unbethought [properly onbethought]; this word is still used in the Midland counties in the same sense as bethought..

Twenty-four good knights, shee sayes,
That dwell about this towne,
Even twenty-four of my next cozèns,
Will helpe to dinge him downe.

All that beheard his litle foote-page,

As he watered his masters steed;

His verry heart did bleed.

25

And for his masters sad perille

He mourned, sighed, and wept full sore;

I sweare by the holy roode

30

The teares he for his master wept

Were blent water and bloude.

And that beheard his deare mastèr
As he stood at his garden pale:

Sayes, Ever alacke, my litle foot-page,
What causes thee to wail?

Hath any one done to thee wronge

35

Any of thy fellowes here?
Or is any of thy good friends dead,
That thou shedst manye a teare?

Or, if it be my head bookes-man,
Aggrieved he shal bee:

For no man here within my howse,
Shall doe wrong unto thee.

O, it is not your head bookes-man,
Nor none of his degree;

But, on to-morrow ere it be noone
All deemed to die are yee.

And of that bethank your head steward,
And thank your gay ladye.

40

45

50

V. 32, blend. MS.

V. 47, or to-morrow. MS.

What is your will, my owne wed-lord?
What is your will with mee?

65

O see, my ladye deere, how sicke,

And like to die I bee.

And thou be sicke, my own wed-lord,

Soe sore it grieveth me:

But my five maydens and myselfe
Will 'watch thy' bedde for thee.

And at the waking of your first sleepe,
We will a hott drinke make:

And at the waking of your 'next' sleepe,
Your sorrowes we will slake.

He put a silk cote on his backe,

And mail of manye a fold:

And hee putt a steele cap on his head,
Was gilt with good red gold.

V. 56, bec. MS.

V. 72, make the. MS.

V. 75, first. MS.

He layd a bright browne sword by his side,

And another att his feete:

'And twentye good knights he placed at hand, To watch him in his sleepe.'

And about the middle time of the night,

Came twentye-four traitours inn:

85

And he had two armes when he came in,

95

She thought to have brought sir Gyles a drinke,
Butt she found her owne wedd knight.

100

The first thinge that she stumbled on
It was sir Gyles his foote:

Here lyes my sweete hart-roote.

Sayes, Ever alacke, and woe is mee!

The next thinge that she stumbled on
It was sir Gyles his heade:

105

Sayes, Ever, alacke, and woe is mee!
Heere lyes my true love deade.

Hee cutt the pappés beside her brest,
And didd her body spille;

He cutt the eares beside her heade,
And bade her love her fille.

110

He called then up his litle foot-page,
And made him there his heyre;

And sayd, henceforth my worldlye goodes
And countrye I forsweare.

115

He shope the crosse on his right shoulder,
Of the white 'clothe' and the redde1,
And went him into the holy land,

Wheras Christ was quicke and dead.

V. 118, fleshe. MS.

120

1 Every person who went on a CROISADE to the Holy Land, usually wore a cross on his upper garment, on the right shoulder, as a badge of his profession. Different nations were distinguished by crosses of different colours: the English wore white, the French red, &c. This circumstance seems to be confounded in the ballad. [V. Spelman, Gloss.]

In the foregoing piece, Giles, steward to a rich old merchant trading to Portugal, is qualified with the title of Sir, not as being a knight, but rather, I conceive, as having received an inferior order of priesthood.

IX.

Child Maters.

Child is frequently used by our old writers as a title. It is repeatedly given to Prince Arthur in the Faerie Queen: and the son of a king is in the same poem called Child Tristram [b. v. c. 11. st. 8, 13, — b. vi. c. 2. st. 36, ibid. c. 8. st. 15]. In an old ballad quoted in Shakspeare's King Lear, the hero of Ariosto is called Child Roland. Mr. Theobald supposes this use of the word was received along with their romances from the Spaniards, with whom Infante signifies a Prince. A more eminent critic tells us, that "in the old times of chivalry, the noble youth, who were candidates for knighthood, during the time of their probation were called Infans, Varlets, Damoysels, Bacheliers. The most noble of the youth