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Ver. 207. Raby.] This might be intended to celebrate one of the ancient possessors of Raby Castle, in the county of Durham. Yet it is written "Rebbye," in the fol. MS. and looks like a corruption of Rugby or Rokeby, an eminent family in Yorkshire, see p. Îl, p. 27. It will not be wondered that the Percies should be thought to bring followers out of that county, where they themselves were originally seated, and had always such extensive property and influence.

Ver. 215. Murray.] So the Scottish copy. In the com. edit. it is "Carrel" or "Currel; " and "Morrell" in the fol. MS.

Ver. 217. Murray.] So the Scot. edit.-The common copies read "Murrel." The fol. MS. gives the line in the following peculiar manner,

"Sir Roger Heuer of Harcliffe too."

Ver. 219. Lamb.] The folio MS. has

"Sir David Lambwell, well esteemed."

This seems evidently corrupted from "Lwdale" or "Liddell in the old copy, see pages 11, 27.

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II.

DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST.

THESE fine moral stanzas were originally intended for a solemn funeral song, in a play of James Shirley's, intitled The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses :" no date, 8vo.-Shirley flourished as a dramatic writer early in the reign of Charles I.: but he outlived the Restoration. His death happened October 29, 1666. t. 72.

This little poem was written long after many of these that follow, but is inserted here as a kind of Dirge to the foregoing piece. It is said to have been a favourite song with K. Charles II.

THE glories of our birth and state

Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate :
Death lays his icy hands on kings:
Scepter and crown

Must tumble down,

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And in the dust be equal made

With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field,

And plant fresh laurels where they kill:
But their strong nerves at last must yield;
They tame but one another still.
Early or late

They stoop to fate,

And must give up their murmuring breath,
When they pale captives creep to death.

The garlands wither on your brow,

Then boast no more your mighty deeds;
Upon death's purple altar now

See where the victor victim bleeds:
All heads must come

To the cold tomb,

Only the actions of the just

Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust.

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III.

THE RISING IN THE NORTH.

THE subject of this ballad is the great Northern Insurrection in the 12th year of Elizabeth, 1569; which proved so fatal to Thomas Percy, the seventh Earl of Northumberland.

There had not long before been a secret negotiation entered into between some of the Scottish and English nobility, to bring about a marriage between Mary Q. of Scots, at that time a prisoner in England, and the Duke of Norfolk, a nobleman of excellent character, and firmly attached to the Protestant religion. This match was proposed to all the most considerable of the English nobility, and among the rest to the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, two noblemen very powerful in the North. As it seemed to promise a speedy and safe conclusion of the troubles in Scotland, with many advantages to the

crown of England, they all consented to it, provided it should prove agreeable to Q. Elizabeth. The Earl of Leicester (Elizabeth's favourite) undertook to break the matter to her, but before he could find an opportunity, the affair had come to her ears by other hands, and she was thrown into a violent flame. The Duke of Norfolk, with several of his friends, was committed to the tower, and summons were sent to the Northern Earls instantly to make their appearance at court. It is said that the Earl of Northumberland, who was a man of a mild and gentle nature, was deliberating with himself whether he should not obey the message, and rely upon the queen's candour and clemency, when he was forced into desperate measures by a sudden report at midnight, Nov. 14, that a party of his enemies were come to seize on his person.* The Earl was then at his house at Topcliffe in Yorkshire. When rising hastily out of bed, he withdrew to the Earl of Westmoreland, at Brancepeth, where the country came in to them, and pressed them to take arms in their own defence. They accordingly set up their standards, declaring their intent was to restore the ancient religion, to get the succession of the crown firmly settled, and to prevent the destruction of the ancient nobility, &c. Their common bannert (on which was displayed the cross, together with the five wounds of Christ) was borne by an ancient gentleman, Richard Norton, Esq., of Norton-conyers: who, with his sons (among whom, Christopher, Marmaduke, and Thomas, are expressly named by Camden), distinguished himself on this occasion. Having entered Durham, they tore the Bible, &c., and caused mass to be said there: they then marched on to Clifford-moor near Wetherbye, where they mustered their men. Their intention was to have proceeded on to York, but, altering their minds, they fell upon Barnard's castle, which Sir George Bowes held out against them for eleven days. The two earls, who spent their large estates in hospitality, and were extremely beloved on that account, were masters of little ready money; the E. of Northumberland bringing with him only 8000 crowns, and the E. of Westmoreland nothing at all for the subsistence of their forces, they were not able to march to London, as they had at first intended. In these circumstances, Westmoreland began so visibly to despond, that many of his men slunk away, tho' Northumberland still kept up his resolution, and was master of the field till December 13, when the Earl of Sussex, accompanied with Lord Hunsden and others, having marched

*This circumstance is overlooked in the ballad.

+ Besides this, the ballad mentions the separate banners of the two Noblemen.

out of York at the head of a large body of forces, and being followed by a still larger army under the command of Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick, the insurgents retreated northward towards the borders, and there dismissing their followers, made their escape into Scotland. Tho' this insurrection had been suppressed with so little bloodshed, the Earl of Sussex and Sir George Bowes marshal of the army put vast numbers to death by martial law, without any regular trial. The former of these caused at Durham sixty three constables to be hanged at once. And the latter made his boast, that, for sixty miles in length, and forty in breadth, betwixt Newcastle and Wetherby, there was hardly a town or village wherein he had not executed some of the inhabitants. This exceeds the cruelties practised in the West after Monmouth's rebellion: but that was not the age of tenderness and humanity.

Such is the account collected from Stow, Speed, Camden, Guthrie, Carte, and Rapin; it agrees in most particulars with the following ballad, which was apparently the production of some northern minstrel, who was well affected to the two noblemen. It is here printed from two MS. copies, one of them in the editor's folio collection. They contained considerable variations, out of which such readings were chosen as seemed most poetical and consonant to history.

LISTEN, lively lordings all,

Lithe and listen unto mee,

And I will sing of a noble earle,

The noblest earle in the north countrìe.

Earle Percy is into his garden gone,
And after him walkes his faire ladìe :*

"I heard a bird sing in mine eare,
That I must either fight, or flee."

"Now heaven forefend, my dearest lord,
That ever such harm should hap to thee:

But goe to London to the court,

And faire fall truth and honestìe."

"Now nay, now nay, my ladye gay,

Alas! thy counsell suits not mee;

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*This lady was Anne, daughter of Henry Somerset, E. of Worcester.

Mine enemies prevail so fast,

That at the court I may not bee."

"O, goe to the court yet, good, my lord, And take thy gallant men with thee: If any dare to doe you wrong,

Then your warrant they may bee."

"Now nay, now nay, thou lady faire, The court is full of subtiltìe;

And if I goe to the court, lady,

Never more may thee see.'

"Yet goe to the court, my lord," she sayes,
"And I myselfe will ryde wi' thee:

At court then for my dearest lord,
His faithfull borrowe I will bee."

"Now nay, now nay, my lady deare;
Far lever had I lose my life,

Than leave among my cruell foes
My love in jeopardy and strife.

But come thou hither, my little foot-page,
Come thou hither unto mee,

To maister Norton thou must goe

In all the haste that ever may bee.

Commend me to that gentleman,

And beare this letter here fro mee;
And say that earnestly I praye,
He will ryde in my companìe."

One while the little foot-page went,
And another while he ran;
Untill he came to his journeys end,
The little foot-page never blan.

When to that gentleman he came,
Down he kneeled on his knee;

And tooke the letter betwixt his hands,
And lett the gentleman it see.

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