JOHN FOX. JOHN Fox, another of the theologians of this time, whose adoption of the reformed opinions brought them into trouble, was born at Boston in 1517. He studied at Oxford, where he applied himself with extreme industry and ardour to the study of divinity, and in particular to the investigation of those controverted points which were then engaging so much of the public attention. So close was his application to his studies, that he entirely withdrew from company, and often sat up during the greater part of the night. Becoming convinced of the errors of popery, he avowed his conversion when examined on a charge of heresy in 1545, and was, in consequence, expelled from his college. After this, being deserted by his friends, he was reduced to great poverty, till a Warwickshire knight engaged him as tutor to his family. Towards the end of the reign of Henry VIII., he went to London, where he might have perished for want, had not relief been administered to him by some unknown person, who seems to have been struck with his wretched appearance when sitting in St Paul's Cathedral. Soon after, he was fortunate enough to obtain employment as tutor in the Duchess of Richmond's family at Ryegate, in Surrey, where he continued till the persecutions of Mary's reign made him flee for safety to the continent. Proceeding through Antwerp and Strasburg to Basle, he there supported himself by correcting the press for Oporinus, a celebrated printer. At the accession of Queen Elizabeth, he returned to England, and was kindly received and provided for by the Duke of Norfolk, who had been his pupil at Ryegate. Through other powerful friends, he might now have obtained considerable preferment; but, entertaining conscientious scruples as to the articles which it was necessary to subscribe, and disapproving of some of the ceremonies of the church, ne declined the offers made to him, except that of a prebend in the church of Salisbury, which he accepted with some reluctance. He died in 1587, much respected for the piety, modesty, humanity, and conscientiousness of his character, as well as his extensive acquirements in ecclesiastical antiquities, and other branches of learning. Fox was the author of a number of Latin treatises, chiefly on theological subjects; but the work on which his fame rests, is his History of the Acts and Monuments of the Church, popularly denominated Fox's Book of Martyrs. This celebrated production, on which the author laboured for eleven years, was published in 1563, under the title of Acts and Monuments of these latter perillous Days, touching matters of the Church, wherein are comprehended and described the great Persecutions and horrible Troubles that have been wrought and practised by the Romish Prelates, specially in this Realm of England and Scotland, from the year of our Lord a thousand, unto the Time now present,' &c. It was received with great favour by the Protestants, but, of course, occasioned much exasperation among the opposite party, who did all in their power to undermine its credit. That the author has frequently erred, and, like other controversial writers of the time, sometimes lost his temper, and sullied his pages with coarse language, cannot be denied; but that mistakes have been wilfully or malignantly committed, no one has been able to prove. As to what he derived from written documents, Bishop Burnet, in the preface to his History of the Reformation, bears strong testimony in his favour, by declaring that, 'having compared those Acts and Monuments with the records, he had never been able to discover any errors or prevarications in them, but the utmost fidelity and exactness.' [The Invention of Printing.] What man soever was the instrument [whereby this invention was made], without all doubt God himself was the ordainer and disposer thereof, no otherwise than he was of the gift of tongues, and that for a similar purpose. And well may this gift of printing be resembled to the gift of tongues: for like as God then spake with many tongues, and yet all that would not turn the Jews; so now, when the Holy Ghost speaketh to the adversaries in innumerable sorts of books, yet they will not be converted, nor turn to the gospel. Now to consider to what end and purpose the Lord hath given this gift of printing to the earth, and to what great utility and necessity it serveth, it is not hard to judge, who so wisely perpendeth both the time of the sending, and the sequel which thereof ensueth. And first, touching the time of this faculty given to the use of man, this is to be marked that when as the bishop of Rome with all and full the consent of the cardinals, patriarchs, archbishops, bishops, abbots, priors, lawyers, doctors, provoses, deans, archdeacons, assembled together in the Council of Constance, had condemned poor John Huss and Hierome of Prague to death for heresy, notwithstanding they were no heretics; and after they had subdued the Bohemians, and all the whole world under the supreme authority of the Romish see; and had made all Christian people obedienciaries and vassals unto the same, having (as one would say) all the world at their will, so that the matter now was past not only the power of all men, but the hope also of any man to be recovered: in this very time so dangerous and desperate, when man's power could do no more, there the blessed wisdom and omnipotent power of the Lord began to work for his church, not with sword and target to subdue his exalted adversary, but with printing, writing, and reading to convince darkness by light, error by truth, ignorance by learning. So that by this means of printing, the secret operation of God hath heaped upon that proud kingdom a double confusion. For whereas the bishop of Rome had burned John Huss before, and Hierome of Prague, who neither denied his transubstantiation, nor his supremacy, nor yet his popish mass, but said mass, and heard mass themselves; neither spake against his purgatory, nor any other great matter of his popish doctrine, but only exclaimed against his excessive and pompous pride, his unchristian or rather antichristian abomination of life: thus while he could not abide his wickedness only of life to be touched, but made it heresy, or at least matter of death, whatsoever was spoken against his detestable conversation and manners, God of his secret judgment, seeing time to help his church, hath found a way by this faculty of printing, not only to confound his life and conversation, which before he could not abide to be touched, but also to cast down the foundation of his standing, that is, to examine, confute, and detect his doctrine, laws, and institutions most detestable, in such sort, that though his life were never so pure, yet his doctrine standing as it doth, no man is so blind but may see, that either the pope is antichrist, or else that antichrist is near cousin to the pope and all this doth, and will hereafter more and inore, appear by printing. The reason whereof is this: for that hereby tongues are known, knowledge groweth, judgment encreaseth, books are dispersed, the scripture is seen, the doctors be read, stories be opened, times compared, truth discerned, falsehood detected, and with finger pointed, and all (as I said) through the benefit of printing. Wherefore I suppose, that either the pope must abolish printing, or he must seek a new world to reign over: for else, as the world standeth, printing doubtless will abolish him. But the pope, and all his college of cardinals, must this understand, that through the light of printing, the world beginneth now to have eyes to see, and heads to judge. He cannot walk so invisible in a net, but he will be spied. And although, through might, he stopped the mouth of John Huss before, and of Hierome, that they might not preach, thinking to make his kingdom sure; yet, in stead of John Huss and other, God hath opened the press to preach, whose voice the pope is never able to stop with all the puissance of his triple crown. By this printing, as by the gift of tongues, and as by the singular organ of the Holy Ghost, the doctrine of the gospel soundeth to all nations and countries under heaven: and what God revealeth to one man, is dispersed to many; and what is known in one nation, is opened to all. [The Death of Queen Anne Boleyn.] of poor artificers and occupiers. Again, what a zealous defender she was of Christ's gospel, all the world doth know, and her acts do and will declare to the world's end. Amongst which other her acts, this is one, that she placed Master Hugh Latimer in the bishopric of Worcester, and also preferred Doctor Sharton to his bishopric, being then accounted a good man. Furthermore, what a true faith she bore unto the Lord, this one example may stand for many: for that, when King Henry was with her at Woodstock, and there being afraid of an old blind prophecy, for the which, neither he nor other kings before him, durst hunt in the said park of Woodstock, nor enter into the town of Oxford, at last, through the Christian, and faithful counsel of that queen, he was so armed against all infidelity, that both he hunted in the foresaid park, and also entered into the town of Oxford, and had no harm. But, because touching the memorable virtues of this worthy queen, partly we have said something before, partly because more also is promised to be declared of her virtuous life (the Lord so permitting), by other who then were about her, I will cease in this matter further to proceed. A notable History of William Hunter, a young man of 19 years, pursued to death by Justice Brown for the Gospel's sake, worthy of all young men and parents to be read. [In the first year of Queen Mary, William Hunter, apprentice to a silk weaver in London, was discharged from his master's employment, in consequence of his refusing to attend mass. Having returned to the house of his father at Brunt In certain records thus we find, that the king being in his justs at Greenwich, suddenly, with a few persons, departed to Westminster, and the next day after Queen Anne his wife was had to the Tower, with the Lord Rochford, her brother, and certain other; and the nineteenth day after was beheaded. The words of this worthy and Christian lady at her death were these: 'Good Christian people, I am come hither to die; for, according to the law, and by the law, I am judged to death, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak any thing of that whereof I am accused and condemned to die; but I pray God save the king, and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler, or a more inerciful prince wood, he attracted the attention of the spiritual authorities by was there never; and to me he was a very good, a gentle, and a sovereign lord. And if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. And thus I take my leave of the world, and of you all, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me. The Lord have mercy on me; to God I recommend my soul.' And so she kneeled down, saying, to Christ I commend my soul; Jesus, receive my soul; repeating the same divers times, till at length the stroke was given, and her head was stricken off. his reading a copy of the Scriptures. He was finally condemned to die for heresy.] In the mean time William's father and mother came to him, and desired heartily of God that he might continue to the end, in that good way which he had begun, and his mother said to him, that she was glad that ever she was so happy to bear such a child, which could find in his heart to lose his life for Christ's name's sake. And this was the end of that godly lady and queen. Then William said to his mother, 'For my little Godly I call her, for sundry respects, whatsoever the pain which I shall suffer, which is but a short braid, cause was, or quarrel objected against her. First, her Christ hath promised me, mother (said he), a crown last words spoken at her death declared no less, her sin- of joy may you not be glad of that, mother?' With cere faith and trust in Christ, than did her quiet modesty that his mother kneeled down on her knees, saying, utter forth the goodness of the cause and matter, what-I pray God strengthen thee, my son, to the end: soever it was. Besides that, to such as wisely can judge yea, I think thee as well-bestowed as any child that upon cases occurrent, this also may seem to give a great ever I bare.' clearing unto her, that the king, the third day after, was married in his whites unto another. Certain this was, that for the rare and singular gifts of her mind, so well instructed, and given toward God, with such a fervent desire unto the truth, and setting forth of sincere religion, joined with like gentleness, modesty, and pity toward all men, there have not many such queens before her borne the crown of England. Principally, this one commendation she left behind her, that during her life, the religion of Christ most happily flourished, and had a right prosperous course. Many things might be written more of the manifold virtues, and the quiet moderation of her mild nature; how lowly she would bear, not only to be admonished, but also of her own accord, would require her chaplains, plainly and freely to tell whatsoever they saw in her amiss. Also, how bountiful she was to the poor, passing not only the poor example of other queens, but also the revenues almost of her estate insomuch, that the alms which she gave in three quarters of a year, in distribution, is summed to the number of fourteen or fifteen thousand pounds; besides the great piece of money, which her Grace intended to impart into four sundry quarters of the realm, as for a stock, there to be employed to the behoof] At the which words, Master Higbed took her in his arms, saying, 'I rejoice (and so said the others) to see you in this mind, and you have a good cause to rejoice.' And his father and mother both said, that they were never of other mind, but prayed for him, that, as he had begun to confess Christ before men, he likewise might so continue to the end. William's father said, 'I was afraid of nothing, but that my son should have been killed in the prison for hunger and cold, the bishop was so hard to him.' But William confessed, after a month that his father was charged with his board, that he lacked nothing, but had meat and clothing enough, yea, even out of the court, both money, meat, clothes, wood, and coals, and all things necessary. Thus they continued in their inn, being the Swan in Bruntwood, in a parlour, whither resorted many people of the country to see those good men which were there; and many of William's acquaintance came to him, and reasoned with him, and he with them, exhorting them to come away from the abomination of Popish superstition and idolatry. Thus passing away Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, on Monday at night it happened, that William had a dream about two of the clock in the morning, which was this: how that he was at the place where the stake was pight, where he should be burned, which (as he thought in his dream) was at the town's end where the butts! stood, which was so indeed; and also he dreamed that he met with his father, as he went to the stake, and also that there was a priest at the stake, which went about to have him recant. To whom he said (as he thought in his dream), how that he bade him away false prophet, and how that he exhorted the people to beware of him and such as he was, which things came to pass indeed. It happened that William made a noise to himself in his dream, which caused M. Higbed and the others to awake him out of his sleep, to know what he lacked. When he swaked, he told them his dream in order as is said. Now when it was day, the sheriff, M. Brocket called on to set forward to the burning of William Hunter. Then came the sheriff's son to William Hunter, and embraced him in his right arm, saying, 'William, be not afraid of these men, which are here present with bows, bills, and weapons, ready prepared to bring you to the place, where you shall be burned.' To whom William answered, I thank God I am not afraid; for I have cast my count, what it will cost me, already.' Then the sheriff's son could speak no more to him for weeping. Then William Hunter plucked up his gown, and stepped over the parlour grounsel, and went forward cheerfully, the sheriff's servant taking him by one arm, and his brother by another; and thus going in the way, he met with his father according to his dream, and he spake to his son, weeping, and saying, "God be with thee, son William ;' and William said, 'God be with you, good father, and be of good comfort, for I hope we shall meet again, when we shall be merry.' His father said, 'I hope so, William,' and so departed. So Williain went to the place where the stake stood, even according to his dream, whereas all things were very unready. Then William took a wet broom faggot, and kneeled down thereon, and read the 51st psalm, till he came to these words, 'The sacrifice of God is a contrite spirit; a contrite and a broken heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.' Then said Master Tyrell of the Bratches, called William Tyrell, Thou liest,' said he; thou readest false, for the words are, "an humble spirit."" But William said, 'The translation saith "a contrite heart." "Yea,' quoth Mr Tyrell, the translation is false; ye translate books as ye list yourselves, like heretics.' 'Well,' quoth William, there is no great difference in those words.' Then said the sheriff, 'Here is a letter from the queen: if thou wilt recant, thou shalt live; if not, thou shalt be burned.' 'No,' quoth William, I will not recant, God willing.' Then William rose, and went to the stake, and stood upright to it. Then came one Richard Pond, a bailiff, and made fast the chain about William. Then said Master Brown,' Here is not wood enough to burn a leg of him.' Then said William, 'Good people, pray for me; and make speed, and dispatch quickly; and pray for me while ye see me alive, good people, and I will pray for you likewise.' 'How!" quoth Master Brown, 'pray for thee? I will pray no more for thee than I will pray for a dog.' To whom William answered, Master Brown, now you have that which you sought for, and I pray God it be not laid to your charge in the last day; howbeit, I forgive you.' Then said Master Brown, I ask no forgiveness of thee. Well,' said William, if God forgive you not, I shall require my blood at your hands.' Then said William, Son of God, shine upon me!' and immediately the sun in the element shone out of a dark cloud so full in his face, that he was constrained to look another way, whereat the people mused, because it was so dark a little time afore. 1 Archery butts. Then William took up a faggot of broom and embraced it in his arms. Then this priest which William dreamed of, came to his brother Robert with a popish book to carry to William, that he might recant, which book his brother would not meddle withal. Then William, seeing the priest, and perceiving how he would have showed him the book, said, 'Away, thou false prophet! Beware of them, good people, and come away from their abominations, lest that you be partakers of their plagues.' Then, quoth the priest, Look how thou burnest here, so shalt thou burn in hell.' William answered, 'Thou liest, thou false prophet! Away, thou false prophet! away!' Then there was a gentleman which said, I pray God have mercy upon his soul.' The people said, Amen, Amen.' Immediately fire was made. Then William cast his psalter right into his brother's hand, who said, William, think on the holy passion of Christ, and be not afraid of death.' And William answered, 'I am not afraid.' Then lift he up his hands to heaven, and said, ' Lord, Lord, Lord, receive my spirit!' And casting down his head again into the smothering smoke, he yielded up his life for the truth, sealing it with his blood to the praise of God. Oxford, completing it by a residence of considerable duration at Paris, where he enjoyed the friendship of many learned men. Leland was one of the earliest Greek scholars in England, was acquainted with French, Italian, and Spanish, and studied, what few then gave any attention to, the Welsh and Saxon. Henry VIII. made him one of his chaplains, and bestowed sundry benefices upon him. Having a strong natural bent to antiquities, he obtained from the king a commission to inspect records, wherever placed, and, armed with this, he proceeded upon a tour of the whole kingdom, at once to visit the remains of ancient buildings, tumuli, and other objects surviv ing from an early age, and to make researches in the libraries of colleges, abbeys, and cathedrals. In six years, he collected an immense mass of valuable matters, some of which he deposited in the king's library. The writings which he subsequently composed, with reference to his favourite pursuits, convey a most respectful impression of his diligence, and of the value of his labours; but they present little attraction, except to readers of peculiar taste. Some are in Latin:* but the most important is in English, namely his Itinerary,-an account of his travels, and of the ancient remains which he visited, together with a catalogue of English writers. Leland was for the two last years of his life insane, probably from enthusiastic application to his favourite study, and died in London in 1552. GEORGE CAVENDISH. divers times in the year, at which time there wanted no preparations, or goodly furniture, with viands of the finest sort that might be provided for money cr friendship; such pleasures were then devised for the king's comfort and consolation, as might be invented, or by man's wit imagined. The banquets were set forth with masks and mummeries, in so gorgeous a sort and costly manner, that it was a heaven to behold. There wanted no dames or damsels, meet or apt to dance with the maskers, or to garnish the place for the time with other goodly disports. Then was there all kind of music and harmony set forth, with excellent voices both of men and children. I have seen the king suddenly come in thither in a mask, with a dozen of other maskers, all in garments like shepherds, made of fine cloth of gold, and fine crimson satin paned, and caps of the same, with visors of good proportion of visnomy; their hairs, and beards, either of fine gold wire, or else of silver, and some being of black silk; having sixteen torch bearers, besides their At this time lived GEORGE CAVENDISH, gentle- drums, and other persons attending upon them, with man-usher to Cardinal Wolsey, and afterwards em- visors, and clothed all in satin, of the same colours. ployed in the same capacity by Henry VIII. To the And at his coming, and before he came into the hall, former he was strongly attached, and after the ye shall understand that he came by water to the prelate's fall, he continued to serve him faithfully till watergate, without any noise, where, against his comhis death. Cavendish himself died in 1557, leaving, were laid charged many chambers, and at his ing, in manuscript, a Life of Cardinal Wolsey, in landing they were all shot off, which made such a which, while he admits the arrogant disposition of rumble in the air, that it was like thunder. It made his old master, he highly extols his general charac- all the noblemen, ladies, and gentlewomen, to muse ter.t Mr S. W. Singer has printed, for the first time, what it should mean coming so suddenly, they sitting Metrical Visions by Cavendish, concerning the for- quietly at a solemn banquet. Then, immetunes and fall of some of the most eminent per- diately after this great shot of guns, the cardinal desons of his time. Respecting the Life of Wolsey, sired the lord chamberlain and comptroller to look he observes: There is a sincere and impartial what this sudden shot should mean, as though he adherence to truth, a reality, in Cavendish's narra- knew nothing of the matter. They thereupon looking tive, which bespeaks the confidence of his reader, out of the windows into Thames, returned again, and and very much increases his pleasure. It is a showed him, that it seemed to them there should be work without pretension, but full of natural elo- some noblemen and strangers arrived at his bridge, as quence, devoid of the formality of a set rhetorical ambassadors from some foreign prince. composition, unspoiled by the affectation of that Then quoth the cardinal to my lord chamberlain, 'I classical manner in which all biography and history pray you,' quoth he, show them that it seemeth me of old time was prescribed to be written, and which that there should be among them some noblemen, often divests such records of the attraction to be whom I suppose to be much more worthy of honour to found in the conversational style of Cavendish. * sit and occupy this room and place than I; to whom Our great poet has literally followed him in several I would most gladly, if I knew him, surrender my passages of his King Henry VIII., merely putting place according to my duty.' Then spake my lord his language into verse. Add to this the historical chamberlain unto them in French, declaring my lord importance of the work, as the only sure and authen-cardinal's mind; and they rounding him again in tic source of information upon many of the most interesting events of that reign; and from which all historians have largely drawn (through the secondary medium of Holinshed and Stow, who adopted Cavendish's narrative), and its intrinsic value need not be more fully expressed.' [King Henry's Visits to Wolsey's House.] * And when it pleased the king's majesty, for his recreation, to repair unto the cardinal's house, as he did * 1. Assertio Inclytissimi Arturii, Regis Britannia. London: 1543. 4to. 2. Commentarii de Scriptoribus Britannicis. Oxford: 1709. 3. De Rebus Britannicis Collectanea. Oxford: 1715. + This work did not appear in print till 1641, when it was published under the title of The Negociations of Thomas Wolsey; but as the chief object of sending it forth was to reconcile the nation to the death of Archbishop Laud, by draw ing a parallel between the two prelates, the manuscript, before it went to the press, was greatly mutilated by abridgment and interpolation. A correct copy was, however, published in 1810 Biography;' and it has since been reprinted separately in 1825, by Dr Wordsworth, in the first volume of his Ecclesiastical by Mr Samuel Weller Singer, along with a dissertation by the * 6 the ear, my lord chamberlain said to my lord cardinal, Sir, they confess,' quoth he, that among them there is such a noble personage, whom, if your Grace can appoint him from the other, he is contented to disclose himself, and to accept your place most worthily.' With that the cardinal, taking a good advisement among them, at the last, quoth he, Me seemeth the gentleman with the black beard should be even he.' And with that he arose out of his chair, and offered the same to the gentleman in the black beard, with his cap in his hand. The person to whom he offered then his chair was Sir Edward Neville, a comely knight of a goodly personage, that much more resembled the king's person in that mask than any other. The king, hearing and perceiving the cardinal so deceived in his estimation and choice, could not forbear laughing; but plucked down his visor, and Master Neville's also, and dashed out with such a pleasant countenance and cheer, that all noble estates3 there assembled, seeing the king to be there amongst them, rejoiced very much. The cardinal eftsoons1 desired his highness to take the place of estate, to whom the king answered, that he would go first and shift his apparel; and so departed, and went straight into my lord's bedchamber, where was a great fire made and prepared for him, and there new apparelled him with rich and princely garments. And in the time of the king's absence, the dishes of the banquet were clean taken up, and the table spread again with new and sweet perfumed cloths; every man sitting still until the king and his maskers came in among them again, every man being newly apparelled. Then the king took his seat under the cloth of estate, commanding no man to remove, but sit still, as they did before. Then in came a new banquet before the king's majesty, and to all the rest through the tables, wherein, I suppose, were served two hundred dishes, or above, of wondrous costly meats and devices, subtilly devised. Thus passed they forth the whole night with banquetting, dancing, and other triumphant devices, to the great comfort of the king, and pleasant regard of the nobility there assembled. LORD BERNERS. the second time made another leap and a fell cry, and stepped forward a little; and the Englishmen removed not one foot. Thirdly again, they leaped and cried, and went forth till they came within shot; then they shot fiercely with their cross-bows. Then the English archers stepped forth one pace, and let fly their arrows so wholly and thick that it seemed snow. When the Genoese felt the arrows piercing through heads and arms and breasts, many of them cast down their cross-bows, and did cut their strings, and returned discomfited. When the French king saw them flee away, he said, 'Slay these rascals, for they shall let and trouble us without reason.' Then ye should have seen the men-at-arms dash in among them, and killed a great number of them, and ever still the Englishmen shot whereas they saw the thickest press; the sharp arrows ran into the men-at-arms and into their horses; and many fell horse and men among the Genoese; and when they were down, they could not relieve again; the press was so thick that one overthrew another. And also, among the Englishmen, there were certain rascals that went on foot with great knives, and they went in among the men-at-arms, and murdered many as they lay on the ground, both earls, barons, knights, and squires, whereof the King of England was after displeased, for he had rather they had been taken prisoners. JOHN BELLENDEN. LORD BERNERS, another favourite of Henry VIII., under whom he was chancellor of the exchequer, and governor of Calais, is known chiefly as the author of a translation of the French chronicler, Froissart. His version of that fascinating narrative of contemporary events in England, France, Flanders, Scotland, and other countries,* was executed by the king's command, and appeared in 1523. It is an excellent sample of the English language of that period, being remarkable for the purity and nervousContemporary with Lord Berners was JOHN BELness of its style.† Lord Berners wrote also The LENDEN, archdean of Moray, a favourite of James History of the Most Noble and Valiant Knight, Ar-V. of Scotland, and one of the lords of session in the thur of Little Britain, and other works, translated reign of Queen Mary. Besides writing a topography from the French and Spanish; he was likewise the of Scotland, epistles to James V., and some poems, author of a book on The Duties of the Inhabitants he translated, by the king's command, Hector Boece's of Calais. From his translation of Froissart (which History of Scotland, and the first five books of Livy. was reprinted in 1812), we extract the following The translation of Bocce was published in 1536, and constitutes the earliest existing specimen of Scottish literary prose. The first original work in that language was one entitled The Complaynt of Scotland, which was published at St Andrews in 1548, by an unknown author, and consists of a meditation on the distracted state of the kingdom. The difference between the language of these works and that employed by the English writers of the preceding century is not great. Bellenden's translation of Boece is rather a free one, and additions are sometimes made by the translator.* Another translation, published by Holinshed, an English Chronicler, in the reign of Elizabeth, was the source from which Shakspeare derived the historical materials of his tragedy of Macbeth. Two extracts from Bellenden's version, in the original spelling, are here subjoined: passages: [Lattle of Cressy.] When the French king saw the Englishmen, his blood changed, and (he) said to his marshalls, Make the Genoese go on before, and begin the battle in the 1 name of God and St Denis.' There were of the Genoese cross-bows about a fifteen thousand, but they were so weary of going a-foot that day, a six leagues, armed with their cross-bows, that they said to their constables, 'We be not well ordered to fight this day, for we be not in the case to do any great deed of arms; we have more need of rest.' These words came to the Earl of Alençon, who said, 'A man is well at ease to be charged with such a sort of rascals, to be faint and fil now at most need.' Also, the same season, there full a great rain and an eclipse, with a terrible thunder; and before the rain, there came flying over the battles a great number of crows for fear of the tempest coming. Then anon the air began to wax clear, and the sun to shine fair and bright, the which was right in the Frenchmens' eyen, and on the Englishmens' back. When the Genoese were assembled together, and began to approach, they made a great leap and cry, to abash the Englishmen; but they stood still, and stirred not for all that. Then the Genoese again * Froissart resided in England as secretary to the queen of Edward III., from 1361 to 1366, and again visited that country in 125. On the former occasion, he paid a visit to Scotland, where he was entertained by the Earl of Douglas. His history, which extends from 1326 to 1400, is valued chiefly for the view which it gives of the manners of the times, and the state of the countries and their inhabitants. †There is a translation of Froissart in modern English-the work of Mr Johnes of Hafod; but that of Lord Berners is deemed its superior, not only in vigorous characteristic expression, but, what is more surprising, in correctness. [Part of the Story of Macbeth.] Nocht lang eftir, hapnit ane uncouth and wounderfull thing, be quhilk followit, sone, ane gret alteration in the realme. Be aventure, Makbeth and Banquho wer passand to Fores, quhair King Duncane hapnit to be for the time, and met be the gait thre wemen, clothit in elrage and uncouth weid. Thay wer jugit, be the pepill, to be weird sisteris. The first of thaim said to Makbeth, Hale, Thane of Glammis !' the second said, 'Hale, Thane of Cawder!' and the third said, 'Hale, King of Scotland!' Than said Banquho, Quhat wemen be ye, sa unmercifull to me, and sa favorable to my companyeon? For ye gaif to him nocht onlie landis and gret rentis, bot gret this, answerit the first of thir weird sisteris, We lordschippis and kingdomes; and gevis me nocht.' To schaw more felicite apparing to thee than to him; for * An excellent reprint of it, along with an edition of the translation of Livy, appeared in Edinburgh in 1821. |