With banrentis, barounis, and bernis full The borz' brittened & brent to brondez & askez,

bald, Biggast of bane and blude, bred in Bri- The tulk that the trammes of tresoun ther wrozt,

Thai walit out werryouris with wapinnis Watz tried for his tricherie, the trewest to wald, on erthe;

The gayest grumys on grund, with geir Hit was Ennias the athel, & his highe

That sithen depreced prouinces, & patrounes bicome

THE PYSTYL OF SWETE SUSAN.

[Specimen, unaltered.]

There was in Babloine a bern, in that borw riche

Welneze of all the wele in the west isles, Fro riche Romulus to Rome ricchis hym swythe, With gret bobbaunce that burze he biges That was a Jeugh jentil, and Joachim he vpon fyrst, hiht; & neuenes hit his anne nome, as hit now He was so lele in his lawe, there lived non hat; him liche, Ticius of Tuskan [turnes] and teldes bi- Of all riches that reuke arayes he was riht: His innes, and his orchardes, weren with

gynnes;

RALPH THE COLLIER.

THIS curious specimen of our early poetry, though at one time so popular that, according to Dunbar,

Gentle and simple of every clan

like most poems of the same age (about the beginning of the fifteenth century) and character, many words are altered from their usual acceptation, or introduced merely for the sake of the alliterative style, the language is by no means Ken of Ralph Collier, and John the Reive, obscure. The narrative is simple and yet for about seventy years it was con- circumstantial, the characters are well sidered to be lost, when, in 1821, a copy described, and a vein of comic humour turned up in a volume of English tracts runs through the whole." Dr Irving in the Advocates' Library, and was re- suggests that it may have been written printed by Dr David Laing, in Select by HUCHOWNE, from its similarity in Remains of the Popular Poetry of Scot-style to The Adventures of Arthur; but land, Edinburgh, 1822. Dr Laing remarks, that "it has claims to public attention altogether independent of its uncommon rarity, as it has no inconsiderable share of poetical merit. Although,

Dr Laing says we are not possessed of such evidence as might entitle us to ascribe it in particular to any one Scottish poet.

Of the reasonableness of Dr Irving's conjecture any one may satisfy himself

by comparing the specimen given with that of The Awntyre of Arthure at the Terne Wathelyne.

THE STORY OF THE KING AND THE
COLLIER.

[Constructed from the Poem.]
When the Emperor Charlemagne
one day, about Christmas time, was
hunting in the royal forest, attended by
the lords and ladies of his court, it came
on such a storm of east wind and snow,

Notwithstanding what Dr Laing says of the language, by which we understand him to mean the vocabulary, the obscurity of which is not the only obstacle to the understanding of our early poetry, we think a specimen in its ori-that, in the hurry to reach some place ginal integrity will suffice. It being, however, a representative of a different class of romances from that of the Arthurian, simpler in structure, and, from the contrast in the social condition of their characters-a consideration that greatly heightens their humour popular that some of them, as The King and the Cobbler, have come down to our own day as chap-books, we give a pretty full outline-rendering of the story or legend of the romance, in which it has been endeavoured to preserve the dramatic humour of the piece.

[Specimen, unaltered.]

- SO

66

of shelter, the king got separated from
his train, and lost his way.
He wan-
dered about without seeing any one till
toward evening, when, much exhausted
through fatigue and anxiety, he fell in
with a collier, with his horse and creels.
For the love of the rood," said the
king, addressing him, "tell me your
name?" "Men call me Ralph," said
the collier; "I sell coals, and work
hard for my living, early and late. Tell
me now why you ask?" "So might I
thrive," said the king, "I ask for no
ill; thou seemest a noble fellow; thy
answer is so fine. Myself and my
horse are well-nigh worn out with cold
and fatigue; for the love of Saint July,
direct us to some hostelry where we
may pass the night." "I know of
none hereabout," said the collier, "ex-
cept mine own house, which lies at

Turnit frae Sanct Thomas befoir the yule some distance across the moor; if you

tyde;

Thay past vnto Paris thay proudest in pane,
With mony Prelatis & Princis that was

of mekle pryde,

like to come along with me, you are welcome to such fare as I can give you."

66

'Right glad," said the king, "and a thousand thanks for your offer." "Don't All thay went with the king to his worthy thank me too soon," said the collier,

wane

Ouir the feildis sa fair thay fure be his syde.
All the worthiest went in the morning
Baith Dukis and Duchesseiris.

Barrounis and Bacheleiris

Mony stout man steiris

Of town with the King.

"in case we fall out; for as yet I have given you neither meat nor drink; 'to love and then lack Peter were shame;' the time to praise your host is at parting." "By my faith," said the king, "it is true what you say ;" and thus

but the collier called his wife to take him by the hand and set him at the table, where he should have gone when bidden; and sitting himself opposite, thus addressed the king: "Sir, thou lookest as if thou hadst manners enough, and yet thou hast none. Thou hast travelled, I guess, in many strange lands, and hast less excuse for not knowing how to act the courtier. Though I am but a simple man, yet in my own house all must do as I bid them." The king thought to himself, this is a kind of schooling I have not been used to; but this is an evil life, and the best policy is to give in. So, without more ado, he sat down beside the goodwife, who, not quite relishing her husband's roughness, kindly pressed him to partake of their cheer. When they had enjoyed themselves on everything of the bestbread, capon, venison, and pigeon pie

they talked until they reached the collier's house. Having found the gate, the collier cried out to his wife: "Dame, undo the door quickly, for my guest and I are almost starved to death with cold." She lost no time in letting them in, and with a hearty greeting welcomed her husband and his guest. "Dame," said the collier to his wife, "I think I have dear bought this day's hire, and I trow my guest has not fared better; make a right royal rousing fire, and see the best that thou canst give us, while we see the horses put into the stable." On their return to the house, the collier beckoned the king to go in first; but he, out of courtesy, replied, "After you, sir." "Na, na," said the collier, taking him by the cuff of the neck, and shoving him in before him; "if ever thou learned manners, I'll warrant thou has clean forgotten them, since thou does not know to make me lord in mine own-they became quite confidential over house; so might I thrive, but we shall their wine. Sir," said the collier, fall out. "" When they came in, the fire addressing the king, "the royal forestwas blazing brightly, and the two sat ers dislike me very much on account of them down to enjoy it; but the collier, the deer. They say that I aye bring thinking it time they had some addi- down the fattest, and threaten to bring tional cheer, called to Gillian, his wife, me to Paris before the king to be to bring the supper; "for," said he, punished. But in spite their menacing, "such a day of striving against such I manage always to have enough for wicked weather is best ended with a myself and a guest, as thou seest; so merry night." Now the supper is set, there is no need to stint in thy eating." and the collier invites the king to take his wife's hand and sit down to the table. The king, out of courtesy, again insisted on his host taking precedence, when the collier, saying, "This is the second time that thou hast forgot thy manners," hit him a blow under the ear that sent him reeling across the hall. The king, with some difficulty, restrained his anger;

66

Marry," said Charles, "the king himself has, in his time, been glad of such fare." "Gill," said the collier to his wife, "fill up a cup and let us drink to the health of our guest." Having drank their glasses dry, the king thanked the collier with "ane blythe cheir;" after which they sit round a bright blazing fire, where the collier entertains