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But, nevertheless, right good witness

ShE.—These tidings be more glad to me
In this case might be laid,

Than to be made a queen,
That they love true and continue,

If I were sure they would endure :
Record the Nut-brown Maid:

But it is often seen,
Which from her love, when her to prove

When men will break promise, they speak
He came to make his moan,

The wordes on the spleen.
Would not depart; for in her heart

Ye shape some wile me to beguile,
She loved but him alone.

And steal from me, I ween:
In order to try her affection, the lover said he was sentenced to

Than were the case worse than it was, die a shameful death, and had to withdraw as an outlaw to the

And I more woe-begone; greenwoode

For, in my mind, of all mankind
SHE.—O Lord, what is this world's bliss,

I love but you alone.
That changeth as the moon !
My summer's day in lusty May

HE.—Ye shall not need further to dread :
Is darked before the noon.

I will not disparáge
I hear you say, Farewell : Nay, nay,

You (God defend !), sith ye descend
We depart not so soon.

Of so great a lineáge.
Why say ye so? whither will ye go?

Now understand; to Westmoreland,
Alas! what have ye done?

Which is mine heritage,
All my welfáre to sorrow and care

I will you bring; and with a ring,
Should change if ye were gone;

By way of marriage
For, in my mind, of all mankind

I will you take, and lady make,
I love but you alone.

As shortly as I can:

Thus have ye won an earl's son,
HE.—I can believe, it shall you grieve,

And not a banished man.
And somewhat you distrain :
But afterward, your paines hard
Within a day or twain

The Gaberlunzie-Man.
Shall soon aslake ; and ye shall take

By tradition, assigned to James V. (1512-42), and supposed Comfort to you again.

to describe one of his own roving adventures. The gaberlunzie Why should ye ought, for to make thought ? was a travelling beggar, pedler, or tinker. The English reader Your labour were in vain.

acquainted with the works of Burns will have no difficulty with the

Scottish words in this humorous descriptive ballad.
And thus I do, and pray to you,
As heartily as I can;

The pawky auld carl came o'er the lea,
For I must to the greenwood go,

Wi' mony gude e'ens and days to me,
Alone, a banished man.

Saying: 'Gudewife, for your courtesie,
ShE.—Now sith that ye have shewed to me

Will ye lodge a silly poor man?'
The secret of your mind,

The night was cauld, the carl was wat,
I shall be plain to you again,

And down ayont the ingle he sat ;
Like as ye shall me find.

My dochter's shouthers he 'gan to clap,
Sith it is so that ye will go,

And cadgily ranted and sang.
I will not live behind ;
Shall never be said, the Nut-brown Maid

O wow!' quo' he,' were I as free

As first whan I saw this countrie,
Was to her love unkind :

How blithe and merry wad I be!
Make you readỳ, for so am I,

And I wad never think lang.'
Although it were anon ;
For, in my mind, of all mankind

He grew canty, and she grew fain;

But little did her auld minny ken
I love but you alone. ...

What thir slee twa togidder were sayen,
He-Yet take good heed, for ever I dread

When wooing they were sae thrang.
That ye could not sustain
The thorny ways, the deep valleys,

* And O!' quo' he, and ye were as black
The snow, the frost, the rain;

As ever the crown o' your daddy's hat,
The cold, the heat; for dry or wet,

'Tis I wad lay thee by my back,
We must lodge on the plain;

And awa wi' thee I'd gang.'
And, as above, none other roof

'And O!' quo' she, and I were as white
But a brake-bush or twain;

As e'er the snaw lay on the dike,
Which soon should grieve you, I believe;

I'd cleid me braw and lady like,
And ye would gladly then

And awa wi' thee I'd gang.'
That I had to the greenwood gone
Alone, a banished man.

Between the twa was made a plot;

They raise a wee before the cock, The Maid still maintains her constancy, on which the lover says he has 'purveyed' him of a maid whom he loves better than her. And wilyly they shot the lock, but even this does not shake her faith, and then the noble youth

And fast to the bent are they gane. discloses himself to his faithful mistress.

Upon the morn the auld wife raise,
HE.- Mine own dear love, I see thee prove

And at her leisure put on her claise,
That ye be kind and true;

Syne to the servants' bed she gaes,
Of maid and wife, in all my life,

To speir for the silly poor man.
The best that ever I knew.
Be merry and glad ; no more be sad;

She gaed to the bed where the beggar lay;
The case is changéd now;

The strae was cauld-he was away;
For it were ruth, that, for your truth,

She clapt her hands, cried : Dulefu day!
Ye should have cause to rue.

For some o' our gear will be gane.
Be not dismayed; whatever I said

Some ran to coffer, and some to kist,
To you, when I began;

But nought was stown that could be mist;
I will not to the greenwood go,

She danced her lane, cried : ‘Praise be blest !
I am no banished man.

I have lodged a leal poor man.

It

man,

Since nathing's awa, as we can learn,

wives and children gone barefoot.' And this, he The kirn's to kirn, and milk to yearn ;

exclaims, is the fruit of the French king's jus Gae butt the house, lass, and waken my bairn, regale ! Sir John is said to have died in 1485, And bid her come quickly ben.'

aged go, The servant gaed where the dochter lay; The sheets were cauld—she was away,

English Courage. And fast to her gudewife ’gan say:

Original spelling. “It is cowardise and lack of hartes and corShe's aff wi' the Gaberlunzie-man!'

age that kepith the Frenchmen from rysyng, and not povertye; which corage no Frenche man hath like to the English man.

hath ben often seen in Englond that iij or iv theses, for povertie, "O fie gar ride, and fie gar rin,

hath sett upon vij or viij true men, and robbyd them al But it And haste ye find these traitors again!

hath not ben seen in Fraunce that vij or viij thefes have ben hardy For she's be burnt, and he's be slain;

to robbe iij or iv true men. The wearifu' Gaberlunzie-man.'

It is cowardice and lack of hearts and courage that Some rade upo' horse, some ran a-fit;

keepeth the Frenchmen from rising, and not poverty; The wife was wud, and out o' her wit;

which courage no Frenchman hath like to the EnglishShe could na gang, nor yet could she sit,

It hath been often seen in England that three But aye did curse and did ban.

or four thieves, for poverty, hath set upon seven or eight

true men, and robbed them all. But it hath not been Meantime, far hind out owre the lea,

seen in France that seven or eight thieves have been Fu' snug in a glen where nane could see,

hardy to rob three or four true men. Wherefore it is Thir twa, wi' kindly sport and glee,

right seld that Frenchmen be hanged for robbery, for Cut frae a new cheese a whang.

that they have no hearts to do so terrible an act. There The prieving was good, it pleased them baith; be therefore mo men hanged in England, in a year, for To lo'e her for aye he gae her his aith;

robbery and manslaughter, than there be hanged in Quo' she: “To leave thee I will be laith,

France for such cause of crime in seven years. There My winsome Gaberlunzie-man.

is no man hanged in Scotland in seven years together for

robbery, and yet they be oftentimes hanged for larceny, Oken'd my minny I were wi' you,

and stealing of goods in the absence of the owner thereof; Ill-far'dly wad she crook her mou',

but their hearts serve them not to take a man's goods Sic a puir man she'd never trow,

while he is present and will defend it ; which manner After the Gaberlunzie-man.'

of taking is called robbery. But the Englishman be of My dear,' quod he, ye're yet owre young, An' hae na learned the beggar's tongue,

another courage ; for if he be poor, and see another man

havi riches which may be taken from him by might, To fallow me frae town to town,

he wol not spare to do so, but if (unless) that poor man And carry the Gaberlunzie on.

be right true. Wherefore it is not poverty, but it is lack Wi' kauk and keel I'll win your bread,

of heart and cowardice that keepeth the Frenchmen from And spinnels and whorls for them wha need,

rising Whilk is a gentle trade indeed, To carry the Gaberlunzie on.

What Harm would come to England if the Commons I'll bow my leg and crook my knee,

thereof were Poor. An' draw a black clout owre my e'e,

Some men have said that it were good for the king A cripple or blind they will ca' me,

that the commons of England were made poor, as be While we will sing and be merrie.'

the commons of France. For then they would not rebel, as now they done oftentimes, which the commons of France do not, nor may do; for they have no weapon, nor armour, nor good to buy it withal. To these manner

of men may be said, with the philosopher, Ad parva PROSE LITERATURE.

respicientes, de facili enunciant; that is to say, they that

seen few things woll soon say their advice. Forsooth SIR JOHN FORTESCUE.

those folks consideren little the good of the realm,

whereof the might most stondeth upon archers, which be The first prose writer of eminence after Mande- no rich men. And if they were made poorer than they ville and Wycliffe was SIR JOHN FORTESCUE, be, they should not have wherewith to buy them bows, Chief-justice of the King's Bench under Henry VI. arrows, jacks, or any other armour of defence, whereby and a constant adherent of the fortunes of that they might be able to resist our enemies when they list monarch. He flourished between the years 1430 to come upon us, which they may do on every side, conand 1480. Besides several Latin tracts, Chief- sidering that we be an island ; and, as it is said before, justice Fortescue wrote one in the English lan- Wherefore we should be a prey to all other enemies, but

we may not have soon succours of any other realm. guage, entitled The Difference between an Absolute if we be mighty of ourself, which might stondeth most and Limited Monarchy as it more particularly upon our poor archers; and therefore they needen not regards the English Constitution, in which he only to have such habiliments as now is spoken of, but draws a striking, though perhaps exaggerated also they needen to be much exercised in shooting, which contrast between the condition of the French may not be done without right great expenses, as every under an arbitrary monarch, and that of his own man expert therein knoweth right well. "Wherefore the countrymen, who even then possessed consider-making poor of the commons, which is the making poor able privileges as subjects. The French he of our archers, should be the destruction of the greatest describes as borne down by public burdens. might of our realm. Item, if poor men may not lightly * They drink water, they eat apples, with bread, rise, as is the opinion of those men, which for that cause right brown, made of rye. They eat no flesh, but would have the commons poor ; how then, if a mighty if it be seldom a little lard, or of the entrails or

man made a rising, should he be repressed, when all the heads of beasts slain for the nobles and merchants not fight, and by that reason not help the king with

commons be so poor, that after such opinion they may of the land. They wear no woollen, but if it be fighting? And why maketh the king the commons to a poor coat under their uttermost garment, made be every year mustered, sithen it was good they had no of great canvas, and passen not their knee; where- harness, nor were able to fight? Oh, how unwise is the fore they be gartered and their thighs bare. Their opinion of these men ; for it may not be maintained by any reason! Item, when any rising hath been made in obscure foss, or pit, covered with clods of earth and clay! this land, before these days by commons, the poorest men Behold also this mighty champion, Sir Lancelot, peerless thereof hath been the greatest causers and doers therein. of all knighthood ; see now how he lieth grovelling upon And thrifty men have been loth thereto, for dread of the cold mould ; now being so feeble and faint, that losing of their goods, yet oftentimes they have gone with sometime was so terrible : how, and in what manner, them through menaces, or else the same poor men would ought ye to be so desirous of worldly honour so danger have taken their goods; wherein it seemeth that poverty ous? Therefore, me thinketh this present book is right hath been the whole and chief cause of all such rising. necessary often to be read; for in alll ye find the most The poor man hath been stirred thereto by occasion of gracious, knightly, and virtuous war, of the most noble his poverty for to get good; and the rich men have gone knights of the world, whereby they got praising conwith them because they wold not be poor by losing of tinually ; also me seemeth, by the ost reading thereof

, their goods. What then would fall, if all the commons ye shall greatly desire to accustom yourself in following were poor?

of those gracious knightly deeds; that is to say, to dread

God and to love righteousness, faithfully and couraBISHOP PECOCK.

geously to serve your sovereign prince ; and, the more REYNOLD PECOCK, successively bishop of St meeker ought ye to be, ever fearing the unstableness of

that God hath given you the triumphal honour, the Asaph and Chichester, wrote a number of treatises this deceitful world. . chiefly controversial, and though opposing the And so, within fifteen days, they came to Joyous Lollards, his free and liberal style of comment led Guard, and there they laid his corpse in the body of the to his being accused of heresy; In consequence quire, and sung and read many psalters and prayers over of this, Pecock had to recant what he had written, him and about him; and even his visage was laid open and to burn fourteen of his own books! Thé and naked, that all folk might behold him. For such main ground of offence was his arguing that in was the custom in those days, that all men of worship matters of faith the church was not infallible. The And right thus as they were at their service there came

should so lie with open visage till that they were buried. most remarkable of Pecock's English works is Sir Ector de Maris, that had sought seven years all entitled The Repressor, 1449. He was about the England, Scotland, and Wales, seeking his brother Sir last of the writers of that age who used the pro- Lancelot. . . . nouns hem and her for them and their.

And then Sir Ector threw his shield, his sword, and

his helm from him ; and when he beheld Sir Lancelot's SIR THOMAS MALORY.

visage, he fell down in a swoon ; and, when he awoke,

it were hard for any tongue to tell the doleful complaints A compilation of some of the most popular of that he made for his brother. Ah, Sir Lancelot, said the romances relating to King Arthur was printed he, 'thou wert head of all Christian knights.'—' And by Caxton in 1485. In a preface to the work, now, I daresay,' said Sir Bors, 'that Sir Lancelot, there Caxton states that SIR THOMAS MALORY took it thou liest, thou wert never matched of none earthly out of certain books in French, and reduced it knight's hands. And thou wert the courtliest knight into English. Malory himself states that he fin- that ever bare shield ; and thou wert the truest friend to ished his task in the ninth year of King Edward thy lover that ever bestrode horse ; and thou wert the IV. (1469). The title of the work, as given by and thou wert the kindest man that ever stroke with

truest lover, of a sinful man, that ever loved woman; Caxton, is The Byrth, Lyfe, and Actes of Kyng sword; and thou wert the goodliest person that ever Arthur, of his noble Knyghtes of the Rounde

came among press of knights; and thou wert the meckest Table, &c. A reprint of the work, with introduction man, and the gentlest, that ever eat in hall among ladies; and notes by Southey, was published in 1817, and and thou wert the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that a popular edition, revised for modern use by Sir ever put spear in rest.' Edward Strachey, in 1868. The style of Malory's translation is free and spirited, shewing a greater

WILLIAM CAXTON. command of English than any of his predecessors.

WILLIAM CAXTON, the venerated father of EngThe Death of Sir Lancelot.

lish printing, was born in Kent about 1412. While Then Sir Lancelot, ever after, eat but little meat, nor

acting as an agent for English merchants in Holdrank, but continually mourned until he was dead; and land, he made himself master of the art of printing, then he sickened more and more, and dried and dwindled then recently introduced on the continent; and, away. For the bishop, nor none of his fellows, might having translated a French book, styled The not make him to eat, and little he drank, that he was Recuyell of the Histories of Troye, he printed it at soon waxed shorter by a cubit than he was, that the Ghent, in 1471, being the first book in the English people could not know him. For evermore day and language ever put to the press. In a note to this night he prayed (taking no rest], but needfully as nature publication, Caxton says: required; sometimes he slumbered a broken sleep; and always he was lying grovelling upon King Arthur's and all the bodie, and also because I have promised divers

Forasmuch as age creepeth on me daily, and feebleth Queen Guenever's tomb; and there was no comfort that the bishop, nor Sir Bors, not none of all his fellows gentlemen, and to my friends, to address to them, as could make him ; it availed nothing.

hastily as I might, this said book, therefore I have pracOh! ye mighty and pompous lords, winning in the ordain this said book in print, after the manner and form

tised and learned, at my great charge and dispence, to glorious transitory of this unstable life, as in reigning over great realms and mighty great countries, fortified as ye may here see, and is not written with pen and ink, with strong castles and towers, edified with many a rich as other books ben, to the end that all men may have city; yea also, ye fierce and mighty knights, so valiant them at once, for all the books of this story, named The in adventurous deeds of arms, behold ! behold! see how here see, were begun in one day, and also finished in one

Recule of the Historeys of Troyes, thus emprinted, as ye this mighty conqueror, King Arthur, whom in his human life all the world doubted, yea also the noble Queen

day. Guenever, which sometime sat in her chair adorned with Afterwards he established a printing-office at gold, pearls, and precious stones, now lie full low in Westminster, and in 1474 produced The Game of

1 Dreaded (held as redoutable).

1 It?

55

Chess, which was the first book printed in Britain. he admonished them to praise it. And also he warned Caxton translated or wrote about sixty different and admonished death to come to him, and said : books, all of which went through his own press 'Death, my sister, welcome be you. And when he before his death in 1491. About forty-four of came at the last hour, he slept in our Lord; of whom these are in the British Museum.

a friar saw the soul, in manner of a star, like to the Caxton gave a prose translation of the Æneid,

moon in quantity, and the sun in clearness. having met with a French version of the original. In his Proeme he speaks of the Æneid, as Pope ENGLISH CHRONICLERS-FABIAN AND HALL. observes, as of a book hardly known.

ROBERT FABIAN and EDWARD HALL may be Caxton's Account of Virgil.

regarded as the first writers in English history or

chronicles. They aimed at no literary excellence, Happened that to my hande came a lytyl book in nor at any arrangement calculated to make their

Their sole object was to noble clerk of Fraunce, whiche booke is named Eneydos writings attractive. (made in Latyn by that noble poete and grete clerk narrate minutely, and as far as their opportunities Vyrgyle), whiche booke I sawe over and redde therein : allowed, faithfully, the events of the history of How after the generall destruccyon of the grete Troy, their country; and it must be admitted that to Eneas departed berynge his old fader Anchises upon his their diligence we are indebted for the presersholders, his lytyl son Yolas on his hande, his wyfe with vation of many curious facts and illustrations of moche other people followynge, and how he shipped manners, which would have otherwise been lost. and departed; wythe all the storye of his adventures Fabian, who was an alderman and sheriff of that he had er he cam to the atchievement of his con London, and died in 1512, wrote a general chronquest of Ytaly, as all alonge shall be shewed in this icle of English history, which he called The Conpresent booke. In whiche booke I had grete playsyr, cordance of Stories, and which has been several by cause of the fayr and honest termes and wordes in times printed—the last time in 1811, under the Frenche, whiche I never sawe to fore lyke, ne none so

care of Sir Henry Ellis. It is particularly minute playsant ne so well ordred; whiche booke, as me semed shold be moch requysite to 'noble men to see, as wel for with regard to what would probably appear the the eloquence as the hystoryes. How wel that many most important of all things to the worthy alderhondred yerys passed was the sayd booke of Eneydos man, the succession of officers of all kinds serving wyth other workes made and lerned dayly in scolis, in the city of London; and amongst other events especially in Ytaly and other places, which historye thé of the reign of Henry V. the author does not sayd Vyrgyle made in metre.

omit to note that a new weather-cock was placed

on the top of St Paul's steeple. Fabian repeats The following passage is extracted (the spelling all the fabulous stories of early English history modernised) from the conclusion of Caxton's trans- which had first been circulated by Geoffrey of lation of The Golden Legend:

Monmouth.

Hall was a lawyer and a judge in the sheriff's Legend of St Francis.

court of London, and died at an advanced age in Francis, servant and friend of Almighty God, was 1547. He compiled a copious chronicle of English born in the city of Assyse, and was made a merchant history during the reigns of the Houses of Lancasunto the twenty-fifth year of his age, and wasted his time ter and York, and those of Henry VII. and Henry by living vainly, whom our Lord corrected by the scourge VIII. which was first printed by Grafton in 1548, of sickness, and suddenly changed him into another man ; under the title of The Union of the Two Noble so that he began to shine by the spirit of prophecy. and Illustre Families of Lancastre and Yorke,

On a time as this holy man was in prayer, the devil with all the Actes done in both the Tymes of the called him thrice by his own name. And when the holy Princes, both of the one Linage and the other, &c. man had answered him, he said : 'None in this world Hall is very minute in his notices of the fashions is so great a sinner

, but if he convert him, our Lord of the time : altogether, his work is of a superior would pardon him but who that sleeth himself with character to that of Fabian, as might perhaps be hard penance, shall never find mercy.' And anon, this holy man knew by revelation the fallacy and deceit of expected from his better education and condition the fiend, how he would have withdrawn him fro to do in life. Considered as the only compilations of well. And when the devil saw that he might not pre- English history at the command of the wits of vail against him, he tempted him by grievous temptation Elizabeth's reign, and as furnishing the founof the flesh. And when this holy servant of God felt dations of many scenes, and even whole plays, that, he despoiled 1 his clothes, and beat himself right by the most illustrious of the dramatists, the hard with an hard cord, saying: 'Thus, brother ass, it Chronicles have a value in our eyes beyond that behoveth thee to remain and to be beaten.' And when which would otherwise belong to them. the temptation departed not, he went out and plunged himself in the snow, all naked, and made seven great and poetry :

Fabian thus relates an event famous in history balls of snow, and purposed to have taken them into his body, and said : This greatest is thy wife; and these four, two ben thy daughters, and two thy sons ;

Jack Cadi's Insurrection. and the other twain, that one thy chambrere, and that Original spelling.-And in the moneth of Juny this yere, the other thy varlet or yeman: haste and clothe them; for comons of Kent assemblyd them in grete multytude, and chase to they all die for cold. And if thy business that thou hast them a capitayne, and named hym Mortymer, and cosyn to the about them, grieve ye sore, then serve our Lord per. kepte the people wondrouslie togader, &c.

Duke of Yorke; but of moste he was named Jack Cade. This fectly. And anon, devil departed from him all confused ; and St Francis returned again unto his cell

And in the month of June this year (1450), the glorifying God.

commons of Kent assembled them in great multitude, He was ennobled in his life by many miracles; and and chose to them a Captain, and named him Mortimer, the very death, which is to all men horrible and hateful, and cousin to the Duke of York; but of most he was he brought a great number of people of them unto the upon pain of death, should rob or take anything per Black Heath, where he devised a bill of petitions to the force without paying therefor. By reason whereof he king and his council, and shewed therein what injuries won many hearts of the commons of the city ; but all and oppressions the poor commons suffered by such as wils done to beguile the people, as after shall evidently were about the king, a few persons in number, and all appear. He rode through divers streets of the city, under colour to come to his above. The king's council, and as he came by London Stone, he strake it with seeing this bill, disallowed it, and counselled the king, his sword, and said : “Now is Mortimer lord of this which by the 7th day of June had gathered to him a city.' And when he had thus shewed himself in divers strong host of people, to go again' his rebels, and to give places of the city, and shewed his mind to the mayor unto them battle. Then the king, after the said rebels for the ordering of his people, he returned into Southhad holden their field upon Black Heath seven days, wark, and there abode as he before had done ; his made toward them. Whereof hearing, the Captain people coming and going at lawful hours when they drew back with his people to a village called Sevenoaks, would. Then upon the morn, being the third day of and there embattled.

named Jack Cade. This kept the people wondrously I Took off.

2 Unto.

together, and made such ordinances among them that 1 Pitched.

July, and Friday, the said Captain entered again the Then it was agreed by the king's council that Sir city, and caused the Lord Saye to be fette from the Humphrey Stafford, knight, with William his brother, Tower, and led into the Guildhall

, where he was and other certain gentlemen, should follow the chase, arraigned before the mayor and other of the king's and the king with his lords should return unto Green- justices. Then the Lord Saye desired that he might be wich, weening to them that the rebels were fled and judged by his peers. Whereof hearing, the Captain gone. But, as before I have shewed, when Sir Hum- sent a company of his unto the hall, the which per force phrey with his company drew near unto Sevenoaks, took him from his officers, and so brought him unto the he was warned of the Captain that there abode with his standard in Cheap, where, or he were half shriven, people. And when he had counselled with the other they strake off his head ; and that done, pight it upon a gentlemen, he, like a manful knight, set upon the rebels, long pole, and so bare it about with them. and fought with them long; but in the end, the Captain In this time and season had the Captain caused a slew him and his brother, with many other, and caused gentleman to be taken, named William Crowmer, which the rest to give back. All which season, the king's before had been sheriff of Kent, and used, as they said, host lay still upon Black Heath, being among them some extortions. For which cause, or for he had sundry opinions ; so that some and many favoured the favoured the Lord Saye, by reason that he had married Captain. But, finally, when word came of the over- his daughter, he was hurried to Miles End, and there, in throw of the Staffords, they said plainly and boldly that, the Captain's presence, beheaded. And the same time except the Lord Saye and other before rehearsed were was there also beheaded another man, called Baillie, the committed to ward, they would take the Captain's cause of whose death was this, as I have heard some party. For the appeasing of which rumour the Lord men report. This Baillie was of the familiar and old Saye was put into the Tower ; but that other as then acquaintance of Jack Cade, wherefore, so soon as he were not at hand. Then the king, having knowledge espied him coming to him-ward, he cast in his mind that of the scomfiture of his men, and also of the rumour he would discover his living and old manners, and shew of his hosting people, removed from Greenwich to off his vile kin and lineage. Wherefore, knowing that London, and there with his host rested him a while. the said Baillie used to bear scrows, and prophesy about

And so soon as Jack Cade had thus overcome the him, shewing to his company that he was an enchanter Staffords, he anon apparelled him with the knights and of ill disposition, and that they should well know by apparel, and did on him his bryganders set with gilt such books as he bare upon him, and bade them search, nails, and his salet and gilt spurs; and after he had and if they found not as he said, that then they should refreshed his people, he returned again to Black Heath, put him to death, which all was done according to his and there pight again his field, as heretofore he had commandment. done, and lay there from the 29th day of June, being St When they had thus beheaded these two men, they Peter's day, till the first day of July. In which season took the head of Crowmer, and pight it upon a pole, and came unto him the archbishop of Canterbury and the so entered again the city with the heads of the Lord Duke of Buckingham, with whom they had long com- Saye and of Crowmer ; and as they passed the streets, munication, and found him right discreet in his answers : joined the poles together, and caused either dead mouth howbeit they could not cause him to lay down his to kiss other diverse and many times. people, and to submit him unto the king's grace.

Then toward night he returned into Southwark, and In this while, the king and the queen, hearing of the upon the morn re-entered the city, and dined that day increasing of his rebels, and also the lords fearing their at a place in St Margaret Patyn parish, called Gherstis own servants, lest they would take the Captain's party, House; and when he had dined, like an uncurteous removed from London to Killingworth, leaving the city guest, robbed him, as the day before he had Malpas. without aid, except only the Lord Scales, which was left for which two robberies, albeit that the porail and to keep the Tower, and with him a manly and warly needy people drew unto him, and were partners of that man named Matthew Gowth. Then the Captain of ill, the honest and thrifty commoners cast in their minds Kent thus hoving at Black Heath, to the end to blind the sequel of this matter, and feared lest they should be the more the people, and to bring him in fame that he dealt with in like manner, by means whereof he lost the kept good justice, beheaded there a petty captain of his

, people's favour and hearts. For it was to be thought, named Paris, for so much as he had offended again' such if he had not executed that robbery, he might have gone ordinance as he had stablished in his host. And hearing fair and brought his purpose to good effect, if he had that the king and all his lords were thus departed, drew intended well ; but it is to deem and presuppose that him near unto the city, so that upon the first day of July the intent of him was not good, wherefore it might not he entered the borough of Southwark, being then come to any good conclusion. Wednesday, and lodged him there that night, for he Then, upon the fifth day of July, the Captain being in might not be suffered to enter that city. .

Southwark, caused a man to be beheaded, for cause of disAnd the same afternoon, about five of the clock, the pleasure to him done, as the fame went; and so he kept Captain with his people entered by the bridge ; and him in Southwark all that day; howbeit he might have when he came upon the drawbridge, he hewed the entered the city if he had wold. ropes that drew the bridge in sunder with his sword, And when night was coming, the mayor and citizens, and so passed into the city, and made in sundry places with Matthew Gowth, like to their former appointment, thereof proclamations in the king's name, that no man, kept the passage of the bridge, being Sunday, and

? Hovering.

1 Fetched.

3 Ere.

3 Scrolls of paper.

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