Chapter VII (3)

After desperate charging with horse and man, much blood was shed, and Princes no more valued than common persons; but our noble Guy appearing laid about him like a lion, among the princes; here lay one headless, another without a leg or an arm, and there a horse. Guy, still like Hercules, charged desperately and killed a German Prince and his horse under him. Duke Otto vowing revenge upon our English Champion, gave Guy a fresh assault, but his courage soon cooled. Then Duke Poyner would engage our favourite knight; but with as little success as the rest, so that no man could encounter Guy any more; by which valor he won the Lady in the field as a prize, being thus approved Conqueror.

The Emperor being himself a spectator, he sent a messenger for our English Knight.--Guy immediately came into the Emperor's presence, and made his obeysance, when the Emperor as a token of his affection, gave him his hand to kiss and withal resigned him his daughter, the falcon and the hound--Guy thanked his Majesty for his gracious favour, but for fair Phillis's sake left fair Blanch to her father's tuition, and departed from that graceful court only with the other tokens of victory.

Now Guy beginning to meditate upon his long absence from his fair Phillis, and doubting of her prosperity, or that she might too much forget him, because the proverb says, Out of Sight out of Mind! prepared for England, and at last arrived at the long wished for haven of his love; and with this sort of salutation greeted his beloved mistress; Fair foe, said he, I am now come to challenge your promise, the which was, upon my making my name famous by martial deeds, I should be the master of my beloved mistress,--Behold, fair Phillis, part of the prize I have won in the field before kings and princes.

Worthy Knight, quoth Phillis, I have heard of thy winning the Lady Blanch from Royal Dukes and Princes, and I am glad to find that Guy is so victorious. But, indeed Guy thou must seek more adventures.

Guy, discomfited at this answer, taking leave of his fair Phillis, clad himself again in Belona's livery, and travelled towards Sedgwin, Duke of Nouvain, against whom the Emperor of Almain had then laid siege. But as Guy was going his intended journey, Duke Otto, whom Guy had disgraced in battle, hired sixteen base traytors to slay him. Guy being set upon by these rogues, drew his sword, and fought till he had slain them all; and leaving their carcasses to the fowls of the air, he pursued his Journey to Louvain, which he found close besieged, and little resistance could the Duke make against the Emperor's power--Guy caused the Levinians to sally forth, and made a most bloody slaughter among the Almains; but the Emperor gathering more forces renewed the siege, thinking to starve them out; but Guy in another sally defeated the Almains, slaying in these two battles about thirteen thousand men.

After this Guy made a perfect league between the Emperor and the Duke, gaining more praise thereby than by his former victories.

CHAP. 4.

GUY HAVING PERFORMED GREAT WONDERS ABROAD, RETURNS TO ENGLAND, AND IS MARRIED TO PHILIS.

After a tedious journey Guy sat down by a spring to refresh himself, and he soon heard a hedious noice, and presently espied a Lion and a Dragon fighting, biting, and tearing each other; but Guy perceiving the Lion ready to faint, encountered the Dragon, and soon brought the ugly Cerberes roaring and yelling to the ground.--The Lion in gratitude to Guy, run by his horse's side like a true-born spaniel, till lack of food made him retire to his wonted abode.

Soon after Guy met with the Earl of Terry, whose father was confined in his castle by Duke Otto; but he and the Lord posted thither, and freed the castle immediately; and Guy in an open field slew Duke Otto hand to hand; but his dying words of repentance moved Guy to pity and remorse.

But as Guy returned through a desart he met a furious boar that had slain many Christians. Guy manfully drew his sword and the boar gaping, intending with his dreadful tusks to devour our noble champion; but Guy run it down his throat, and slew the greatest boar that ever Man beheld.

At Guy's arrival in England, he immediately repaired to King Athelstone at York, where the King told Guy of a mighty Dragon in Northumberland, that destroyed men, women, and children.--Guy desired a guide, and went immediately to the dragon's cave, when out came the monster, with eyes like a flaming fire: Guy charged him courageously, but the monster bit the lance in two like a reed; then Guy drew his sword, and cut such gashes in the dragon's sides that the blood and life poured out of his venemous carecase. Then Guy cut off the head of the monster, and presented it to the King, who in the memory of Guy's service caused the picture of the Dragon, being thirty feet in length to be worked in a cloth of arras, and hung up in Warwick Castle for an everlasting monument.

Phillis hearing of Guy's return and success, came as far as Lincoln to meet him, where they were married with much joy and great triumph; King Athelstone, his Queen, the chief Nobles and Barons of the land being present.

No sooner were their nuptials celebrated but Phillis's father died, leaving all his estate to Sir Guy; and the King made him Earl of Warwick.

CHAP. 5.

GUY LEAVES HIS WIFE AND GOES A PILGRIMAGE TO THE HOLY LAND.

In the very height of Guy's glory, being exalted to his father's dignities, Conscience biddeth him repent of all his former sins, and his youthful time; so Guy resolved to travel to the Holy Land like a Pilgrim. Phillis perceiving this sudden alteration enquires of her Lord what was the cause of this Passion? Ah! Phillis, said he, I have spent much time in honouring thee, and to win thy favour, but never spared one minute for my soul's health in honouring the Lord.

Phillis, though very much grieved, understanding his determination, opposed not his will. So with exchanging their rings, and melting kisses, he departed like a stranger from his own habitation, taking neither money nor scrip with him, and but a small quantity of herbs and roots, such only as the wild fields could afford, were his chief diet; vowing never to fight more but in a just cause.

Guy, after travelling many tedious miles, met an aged person oppressed with grief, for the loss of fifteen sons, whom Armarant a mighty Giant had taken from him, and held in strong captivity. Guy borrowed the old mans sword, and went directly up to the Castle gate, where the Giant dwelt, who, coming to the door, asked grimly, How he durst so boldly knock at the gates? vowing he would beat his brains out. But Guy laughing at him, said, Sirrah, thou art quarrelsome; but I have a sword has often hewn such lubbards as you asunder:--At the same time laying his blade about the Giant's shoulders, that he bled abundantly, who being much enraged, flung his club at Guy with such force, that it beat him down; and before Guy could recover his fall Armarant had got up his club again. But in the end Guy killed this broad back dog, and released divers captives that had been in thrawldom a long time, some almost famished, and others ready to expire under various tortures. They returned Guy thanks for their happy deliverance; after which he gave up the castle and keys to the old man and his fifteen sons.

Guy pursued his intended journey and coming to a grave, he took up a worm-eaten skull, which he thus addressed:--Perhaps thou wert a Prince, or a mighty Monarch, a King, a Duke, or a Lord!--But the King and the Beggar must all return to the earth; and therefore man had need to remember his dying hour. Perhaps thou mightest have been a Queen, or a Dutchess, or a Lady varnished with much beauty; but now thou art worm's meat, lying in the grave, the Sepolchre of all creatures.

While Guy was in this repenting solilude, fair Phillis, like a mourning widow, cloathed herself in sable attire, and vowed chastity in the absence of her beloved husband. Her whole delight was in divine meditations and heavenly consolations, praying for the welfare of her beloved Lord, fearing some savage monster had devoured him.--Thus Phillis spent the remainder of her life in sorrow for her dear Lord; and to shew her humility she sold her Jewels and costly robes, with which she used to grace King Athelstones Court, and gave the money freely to the poor; she relieved the lame and the blind, the widow and the fatherless, and all those that came to ask alms; building a large hospital for aged and sick people that they may be comforted in their sickness and weak condition. And according to this rule she laid up treasure in heaven, which will be paid again with life everlasting.

Meantime Guy travelled through many lands and nations; at last in his Journey he met the Earl of Terry, who had been exiled from his territories by a merciless traytor. Guy bid him not be dismayed, and promised to venture his life for his restoration. The Earl thanked Guy most courteously, and they travelled together against Terry's enemy. Guy challenged him into the field, and then slew him hand to hand, and restored to the Earl his lands.

The Earl begged to know the name of his Champion, but Guy insisted to remain in secret, neither would he take any gratuity for his services.

Thus was the noble Guy successful in all his actions, and finding his head crowned with silver hairs, after many years travel, he resolved to lay his aged body in his native country, and therefore returning from the Holy Land, he came to England, where he found the nation in great distress, the Danes having invaded the land, burning Cities and towns, plundering the country, and killing men, women and children; insomuch that King Athelstone was forced to take refuge in his invincible city of Winchester.

CHAP. 6.

GUY FIGHTS WITH THE GIANT COLBORN, AND HAVING OVERCOME HIM,
DISCOVERS HIMSELF TO THE KING, THEN TO HIS WIFE, AND DIES IN
HER ARMS.

The Danes having intelligence of King Athelstone's retreat to Winchester, drew all their forces hither, and seeing there was no way to win the City, they sent a summons to King Athelstone desiring that an Englishman might combat with a Dane, and that side to lose the whole whose champion was defeated.

On this the mighty Colborn singled himself from the Danes, and entered upon Morn Hill, near Winchester, breathing venemous words, calling the English cowardly dogs, that he would make their carcasses food for ravens.

What mighty boasting said he, hath there been in the foreign nations, of these English Cowards, as if they had done deeds of wonder, who now like foxes hide their heads.

Guy hearing proud Colborn could no longer forbear, but went immediately to the King, and on his knee begged a Combat; the King liking the courage of the pilgrim bid him go and prosper. Guy walking out of the North Gate to Morn Hill, where Colborn, the Danish Champion was--When Colborn espied Guy he disdained him, saying, Art thou the best Champion England can afford? Quoth Guy, it is unbecoming a professed champion to rail, my sword shall be my Orator. No longer they stood to parley, but with great Courage fought most Manfully, but Guy was so nimble, that in vain Colborn struck for every blow, fell upon the ground. Guy still laid about him like a dragon, which gave great encouragement to the English; but Colborn in the end growing faint, Guy brought the giant to the ground; upon which the English all shouted with so much Joy, that peals of ecchoes rung in the air--After this battle the Danes retired back again to their own Country.

King Athelstone sent for this Champion to honour him, but Guy refused honours, saying, My Liege, I am a mortal man, and have set the vain world at defiance. But at the King's earnest request, on promise of concealment, Guy discovered himself to him, which rejoiced his heart, and he embraced his worthy champion; but Guy took leave of his sovereign, and went into the fields where he made a cave living very pensive and solitary; and finding his hour draw nigh, he sent a messenger to Phillis, at the sight of which she hasted to her Lord, where with weeping joy they embraced each other--Guy departed this life in her tender arms, and was honourably interred.

His widow grieving at his death died 15 days after him.

THEIR EPITAPH.

Under this marble lies a pair,
Scarce such another in the world there are.
Like him so valiant or like her so fair,
His actions thro' the world have spread his fame,
And to the highest honours rais'd his name.
For conjugal affection and chaste love,
She's only equal'd by the blest above,
Below they all perfections did possess,
And now enjoy consummate happiness.

FINIS.

THE FAMOUS

_HISTORY_

OF

GUY EARL OF WARWICK

NEWCASTLE: PRINTED IN THIS PRESENT YEAR.

The letter-press in this Chap-book is nearly identical with the previous one, but there are two engravings which the other lacks.

_THE HISTORY_

OF THE

LIFE AND DEATH

OF THAT NOBLE KNIGHT

SIR BEVIS

OF

SOUTHAMPTON

NEWCASTLE: PRINTED IN THIS PRESENT YEAR.

According to Ebert, the French editions of this romance are very early; he quotes two, "Le livre de Beufoes de Hantonne et de la Belle Josienne sa mye. Par. Verard." no date, folio, G.L., and "Beufues Danthonne nouvellement imprimé a Paris. Par le Noir 1502," small folio, Gothic letter; whilst the British Museum possesses an earlier Italian book on the subject, "Buovo de Antona di Guidone Palladius Rezunto & reuisto. Caligula di Bazalieri. Bologna 1497," octavo, Gothic letter. The Bodleian Library possesses a very early English copy of "Sir Beuys of Hamton," "Emprynted by Rycharde Pynson in Flete-strete at the Sygne of the George," quarto, black letter; and Hazlitt says there also is a fragment of two leaves by Wynkyn de Worde, printed with the same types as the "Memorare Novissima."

The frontispiece is an engraving belonging to an edition of 1690. Sir Bevis was born in the reign of Edgar, and his parents were Sir Guy of Southampton, and a daughter of the King of Scotland, who was desperately in love with Sir Murdure, brother of the Emperor of Almaine. She managed to keep up appearances for some years after the birth of Bevis, until her passion for Sir Murdure became uncontrollable, and she sent a message to him to come over to England and slay her husband. He obeyed, and with his men lay in wait for Sir Guy, who was hunting for a wild boar for his wife. They assaulted him, and, after a desperate resistance on his part, killed him, and Sir Murdure was received joyfully by the false wife, and duly installed in her husband's stead. Naturally, Bevis was wroth, and having expressed his opinion freely, was duly hated by his mother, who sent to Sir Sabere, her husband's brother, to privately murder him. Sir Sabere, however, dressed him in old clothes and put him to keep sheep, whilst he showed Bevis's blood-stained garments, as a token of having killed him. However, the impulsive Bevis could not brook the situation, but went to the castle, crook in hand, and with it knocked Sir Murdure under the table, and would have murdered his mother, had not better thoughts prevailed. His mother was furious, and ordered Sir Sabere and another knight to cast him into the sea, which they promised to do; but meeting with merchants of Armony, they sold Bevis to them.

The merchants presented him to the king (Ermine), who was prepossessed with his looks, and on questioning him, remembered having heard of the prowess of his father Sir Guy. "I have but one fair Daughter, said the King, and if thou wilt forsake thy God, and serve _Apoline_ our God, thou shalt have my Daughter to Wife, and enjoy my Kingdom after me. Not so, my Lord, said Bevis, for all the Beauties in the World, I would not deny my Creator; Then, said the King, wilt thou be my Chamberlain, and when I find thy Desert, I'll dub thee a Knight, and thou shalt bear my Standard in the Field against my Foes. What you please to command me, my Lord, said he, save the denying of my God, I will do.

"Bevis was so beloved of the king that none durst speak against him; nay _Josian_ the King's daughter was in love with him." But it happened, one Christmas Day, Bevis met sixty Saracens, who, taunting him with his religion, he encountered, and slew them all. At which the king swore he should die. But Josian on her knees begged his life, which was granted; she dressed his wounds, nursed him, and he was in as great favour as ever.

He next, after many difficulties, slew a mighty wild boar of cannibal propensities, and won great honour thereby.

Josian must have been fair indeed, for, all through the story, Bevis is perpetually getting into trouble through her fatal beauty. It now happened to have attracted King Brandmond, who sent to King Ermine demanding her hand, or he would depose him. The nobles were for yielding; but Josian suggested that if Bevis were made general, and invested with command, things would speedily be righted. This was done; he was dubbed knight, and Josian armed him, and gave him a sword, Morglay, and a wonderful steed, Arundel. He defeated Brandmond, and took him prisoner. "So Bevis returned with great Victory and was royally entertained by the King, and then _Josian_ broke her mind to _Bevis_; quoth she, by _Mahomed_, I do desire to be thy Love: Not so, Lady, said _Bevis_, I'll wed no Heatheness; which words she took very scornfully." But her love prevailed, and she went to Bevis, offering to do anything, even turn Christian, could she but win his love. Sir Bevis could only act as he did--take her in his arms, and kiss her. Her speech and behaviour being reported to the king, he was mad, and wrote letters to Brandmond, to put Sir Bevis to death, and gave them to him, to be the unconscious bearer of his own death-warrant.

Meanwhile, Sir Sabere had sent his son, Terry, travelling in search of Sir Bevis, and the two met near Damas; but Bevis did not make himself known. He rode into Damas, insulted the inhabitants by asking them, "What devil do you serve here?" and pulled down their idol Mahomed, throwing it into the gutter. This naturally exasperated the Saracens, and they set upon him; but before they could secure him, two hundred of them were slain. He was brought before the king, who read the letters of which he was the bearer. Bevis, finding he had only himself to trust to, went Berserk again and killed sixty more Saracens, was overpowered and thrown into a dungeon with two dragons, which, however, he slew with the truncheon of a spear he opportunely found, "and then he was at rest awhile."

Josian's fatal beauty was to bring trouble. "Father, said _Josian_ where is _Bevis_? He reply'd he is gone to his own country. At this Time came King _Jour_, Intending for to wed _Josian_ which he obtained. And _Ermine_ gave _Jour_, _Arundel_ and _Morglay_, which belonged to Bevis; this _Josian_ could in no way avoid."

Bevis's captors thought they would go and see him, and as he had been in prison seven years, fed only on bread and water, they thought he would be weak; but he killed them all, and seizing on a horse, escaped. He met with a giant whom he slew, and then proceeded on his search for Josian. He met a poor palmer who told him that in that castle opposite lived King Jour and his wife, the fair Josian. They exchanged clothes, and Bevis entered the castle. He saw and conversed with Josian, who did not know him; but when Arundel heard him speak, he "broke seven Chains asunder, and neighed;" and then Josian recognized him. The sequel may be imagined. King Jour was sent off on an imaginary errand, and Josian and Bevis eloped, taking with them the chamberlain Boniface. They were pursued, and hid in a cave, where, Bevis being absent hunting for their sustenance, two lions entered, killed and eat Boniface, and then meekly laid their heads in Josian's lap. On Bevis's return, she called out to him the state of things, when he told her to let the lions loose, and he killed them.

They then continued their journey, until they were stopped by Ascapart, "an ugly Giant, who was thirty Foot high, and a Foot between his Eyebrows; he was bristled like a Swine, and his Blubber Lips hung on one side." Naturally he had to be fought and overcome, and on his life being spared, he promised to be a faithful servant. They reached the shore, where they wanted to take ship, but, being unable to procure a boat, they first had to fight and slay many Saracens, and then Ascapart waded to the ship, carrying Sir Bevis and Josian, and tucking Arundel under his arm. They reached the land of Colen, where the bishop was a relation of Bevis. Josian was baptized, but Ascapart refused the rite.

"_Bevis_ being in bed heard a Knight cry, I rot, I rot, at which Noise _Bevis_ wondered; and the next Morning he ask'd what was the Cause of that Noise; He was a Knight, they said, that coming through the street, the Dragon met him and cast her Venom upon him, whereof he rotted and died." Bevis could not stand this, but sought and encountered the dragon, which he slew, after the hardest of his many fights.

Then he set about recovering his lost inheritance, and sailed for England, landing near Southampton. But no sooner was his back turned than the Earl of Milo, having got rid of Ascapart by stratagem, married Josian; but she strangled him in bed, whereupon she was sentenced to be burned. Ascapart, however, had broken prison, joined Bevis, and they together arrived just in the nick of time to save Josian.

Sir Bevis and Sir Sabere then seriously took Sir Murdure in hand, defeated him, and boiled him in a cauldron of pitch and brimstone; which treatment had such an effect on the mother of Sir Bevis, that she threw herself from the top of her castle and broke her neck. Sir Bevis then, somewhat tardily, married Josian, and went to do homage to Edgar; but the king's son, having been refused Arundel at any price, went to take him by force, and had his brains kicked out by the horse. Sir Bevis was banished, and having left his estates in the hands of his uncle Sabere, started on his journey, when Josian, whilst passing through a forest, was taken ill and delivered of twins. She had requested her husband, Terry, and Ascapart to leave her alone for a time; so the former two went one way, and the latter another. But when Sir Bevis and Terry returned, they found the two boys, but not the mother, who had been carried off by Ascapart. Bevis left his children with a forester, with strict injunctions to return them to one Bevis of Hampton in seven years' time; but Sabere and twelve knights tracked and slew the villain Ascapart, and restored Josian to her husband. They redeemed the children; and then, finding there was war between the kings Ermine and Jour, Bevis naturally helped his father-in-law, and captured Jour, whose ransom was "twenty Tun of Gold and three hundred White Steeds."

King Ermine turned Christian, and before his death crowned his grandson Guy King of Armony, and knighted his grandson Miles. Not unnaturally King Jour hated Sir Bevis, and beseiging him in Armony, was of course overcome and slain, and Bevis took possession of his kingdom, and converted all the inhabitants to Christianity.

But his troubled life was drawing to a close. King Edgar had disinherited Sabere's wife, so he, Bevis, and Josian, with their two sons Guy and Miles, marched to London with a great army, fought the king, slew two thousand of his men, and then went back to Southampton. The king wisely parleyed with them, and ultimately agreed to marry his eldest daughter to Miles, whom he created Earl of Cornwall; after which they all separated and went home. Bevis and Josian retired to the late King Jour's capital of Mambrant, where both he and Josian fell sick, and died the same day. "They were solemnly interred in one Grave, by Guy their Son, who raised a stately Tomb over them, to the everlasting Memory of so gallant a Knight, and his most royal and constant Lady.

So I conclude his famous Acts here penn'd,
For Time and Death brings all Things to an End."

THE

LIFE AND DEATH

OF

=St. George=

THE NOBLE

CHAMPION OF ENGLAND.

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD
BOW LANE LONDON

Although there are, as may be expected from the great popularity of this patron saint of England, very numerous illustrations of him in manuscripts, even as far back as the eleventh century, yet there seems, with the exception of the "Legenda Aurea" of Caxton and Wynkyn de Worde, to be very little early printed matter about him, although Dibdin (Ames) notices "The Lyfe of that glorious Martyr Saint George," quarto, printed by Pynson.

Alban Butler gives a very etherealized life of this saint, and says, "George is usually painted on horseback and tilting at a dragon under his feet; but this representation is no more than an emblematical figure, purporting, that by his faith and Christian fortitude he conquered the Devil, called the Dragon in the Apocalypse."

Caxton's "Legenda Aurea" ("Westmestre, 1483") gives the following account of the Cappadocian saint, and his encounter with the Dragon:--"Saynt George was a knyght and borne in capadose / On a tyme he came to the prouynce of Lybye to a cyte which is sayd Sylene / And by this cyte was a stagne or a ponde lyke a see / wherein was a dragon whyche envenymed alle the contre / And on a tyme the peple were assemblid for to slee hym / And whan they sawe hym they fledde / And whan he came nyghe the citte / he venymed the peple wyth his breeth / And therfore the peple of the citte gaue to hym euery day two sheep for to fede hym / by cause he shold doo no harme to the peple / And whan the sheep fayled there was taken a man and a sheep /

"Thenne was an ordenaunce made in the towne / that there shold be taken the chyldren and yonge peple of them of the towne by lotte / And eueryche as it fyl were he gentil or poure shold be delyuered whan the lotte fyl on hym or hyr / So it happed that many of them of the towne were thenne delyuerd / In soo moche that the lotte fyl vpon the kynges doughter / Wherrof the kyng was sory and sayd vnto the people /

"For the loue of the goddes take golde and syluer and alle that I haue / and lett me haue my doughter / they sayd how syr ye haue made and ordeyned the lawe / and our chyldren been now deed / And now ye wold doo the contrarye / your doughter shal be gyuen / or ellys we shal breune you & your hows. Whan the kyng saw he myght nomore doo he began to wepe and sayd to his doughter / Now shal I neuer see thyn espousayls / Thenne retorned he to the peple and demauded viij dayes respyte And they graunted hit to hym / and whan the viij dayes were passed they came to hym and sayd / thou seest that the cyte perissheth / Th[=en]e dyd the kyng doo[4] araye his doughter / lyke as she shold be wedded / and embraced hyr kyssed hir and gaue hir his benedyccion / And after ledde hyr to the place where the dragon was / whan she was there / saynt george passed by / And whan he sawe the lady / he demaunded the lady what she made there, And she sayd / goo ye your waye fayre yonge man / that ye perysshe not also /

"Thenne sayd he telle to me what haue ye / and why ye were / and doubte ye of no thynge / whan she sawe that he wold knowe she sayde to hym how she was delyuered to the dragon / Thenne sayd saynt george / Fayre doughter doubte ye no thynge herof / For I shall helpe the in the name of Jhesu Cryste / She said for goddes sake good knyght goo your waye / and abyde not wyth me / for ye may not delyuer me /

"Thus as they spake to gyder the dragon apperyd & came rennyng to them and saynt George was vpon his hors & drewe out his swerde & garnysshed hym wyth the signe of the Crosse / and rode hardely ageynst the dragon which came toward hym and smote hym with hys spere and hurte hym sore & threwe hym to the grounde / And after sayde to the mayde / delyuer to me your gyrdel and bynde hit about the necke of the dragon / and be not aferde / whan she had doon soo the dragon folowed hyr as it had been a make beest and debonayr / Thenne she ledde hym in to the cyte / & the peple fledde by mountayns and valeyes / and sayd / alas / alas / we shal be alle deed / Thenne saynt George sayd to them / ne doubte ye no thynge / without more byleue ye in god Jhesu Cryste / and doo you to be baptysed / and I shal slee the dragon /

"Thenne the kyng was baptysed and al his peple / and saynt george slewe the dragon and smote of his heed / And commaunded thathe shold be throwen in the feldes / and they took iiij cartes wyth oxen that drewe hym out of the cyte / Thenne were there wel fyftene thousand men baptised without wymmen and chyldren / And the kyng dyd doo make a chirche there of our lady and of saynt George / In the whiche yet sourdeth a founteyn of lyuynge water whiche heleth seek peple that drynke therof / After this the kyng offred to Saint george as moche money as there myght be nombred / but he refused alle and commaunded that it shold be gyuen to poure peple for goddes sake / and enioyned the kynge iiij thynges / that is / that he shold haue charge of the Chyrches / and that he shold honoure the preestes / and here theyr seruyce dylygently / and that he shold haue pite on the poure peple / And after kyssed the kyng and departed /"

[Footnote 4: Dyd doo, _i.e._ caused to be.]

The Chap-book version is far more marvellous, and is, as the reader will note, strangely similar, in some places, to the romance of Sir Bevis.

Coventry, not Cappadocia, is made his birth-place; his father was "a renowned peer named Lord Albert," and his mother was the King's daughter, who before St. George's birth dreamed her child would be a dragon. So Lord Albert went to consult the enchantress Kalyb, which he did by blowing a trumpet at the entrance of her cave, when a voice replied that his son should be as fierce as a dragon in deeds of chivalry. The mother died in childbirth, and St. George was stolen in his infancy by Kalyb, which so grieved Lord Albert that he died.

Kalyb grew very fond of the boy, and in a moment of confidence she showed him the brazen castle where the other six champions of Christendom were confined, and made him a present of some invincible armour. She also lent him her magic wand, a kindness which he requited by enclosing her in a rock. He then released the six champions, who went their several ways, and he went to Egypt. There he found the whole kingdom desolate because of a dragon which every day devoured a virgin, and had destroyed all but the king's daughter, who was that day to be given to him unless some one should slay the dragon, in which case she would be given in marriage to her deliverer. St. George, of course, undertook the adventure, and reached the place soon after the king and queen had taken leave of their daughter.

St. George held a short parley with the damsel, whose name was Sabra, when the dragon approached and the combat took place. We know its issue--St. George cut off the dragons head, released Sabra, and entered the city, but was withstood by some of the inhabitants, stirred up by Aminder, King of Morocco, in love with Sabra, whom he had to fight and overcome.

The king, however, received him graciously; but Aminder spread reports of St. George trying to convert the princess to Christianity, and the king wrote a letter to the Sultan of Persia, making St. George the bearer, asking him to slay him. On its delivery St. George was thrown into a dungeon, and when he had been there two days, they let down two hungry lions to devour him, but he killed them with an old sword he found.

He was seven years in prison, during which time Sabra had been forced by her father to marry Aminder, when one day he found an iron crowbar and effected his release, stole a horse, was stopped by and fought with a giant, whom he killed. He journeyed on till he came to where Sabra lived, changed clothes with a peasant, applied to her for alms, showed her a ring which she had given him, and was immediately recognized.

Accompanied by a servant, they fled; met with two lions, who eat the servant but did Sabra no harm, and were duly killed by St. George.

He returned to Coventry, where he was but a little while, when St. David and the other champions asked him for his assistance against the pagans who had invaded Hungary. He went with them, leaving Sabra at home, and duly overthrew the pagans. Then came messengers to him saying that Sabra, who it appears the Earl of Coventry had attempted to seduce, had stabbed and killed him, and was condemned to die unless a champion could be found to fight for her. St. George came at the right moment, fought, conquered, and freed Sabra. They now lived quietly, and three sons, Guy, Alexander, and David, were born to them, who were sent to Rome, England, and Bohemia, to be educated at the Courts of the several sovereigns. After eighteen years' absence they all returned, and after they had rested a few days a hunt was proposed, in which Sabra joined. Her horse, however, fell and threw her "into a thorny briar, which tore her tender flesh so terribly, that she found she had not long to live, whereupon calling to St. George and her sons, she very affectionately embraced them, not being able to speak, and soon died."

St. George undertook a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and on his return home he fought with a dragon on Dunsmore Heath and slew it. "But this proved the most fatal of all his adventures, for the vast quantities of poison thrown upon him by that monsterous beast, so infected his vital spitals, that two days afterwards he died in his own house."

PATIENT GRISSEL.

"I wol you tell a Tale which that I
Lerned at Padowe of a worthy clerk
As preved by his wordes and his werk:
He is now ded and nailed in his cheste,
I pray to God to yeve his soule reste.
Fraunceis Petrark, the Laureate poete,
Hight this clerk whos retherike swete
Enlumined all Itaille of poetrie"--

so says Chaucer in the prologue to the "Clerkes Tale," but Petrarch was not the author of this ever favourite story. It seems to have been the undoubted offspring of Boccaccio's fancy, even Mr. Baring Gould failing to trace an Indian source for it, as he has done in so many tales of the "Decameron."[5] In fact, Petrarch, although intimately acquainted with Boccaccio, never saw the tale until 1374, just before his death at Arquà. He at once fell in love with it, and translated it into Latin, with alterations. This translation was never printed, but there is a copy in the library at Paris, and another at Magdalen College, Oxford. It was dramatized in France in 1393, under the title of "Le Mystere de Griseildis Marquis de Salucas;" again in England, "The Pleasant Comedie of Patient Grissill. As it hath been sundrie times lately plaid by the right honorable the Erle of Nottingham (Lord high Admirall) his seruants. London: Imprinted for Henry Rocket, and are to be solde at the long Shop vnder S. Mildreds Church in the Poultry. 1603."[6] There was also a comedy by Ralph Radcliffe, called "Patient Griseld," but this was never printed; and in modern times it has been dramatized by Mr. Edwin Arnold.

[Footnote 5: "Bouchet, in his _Annales d'Aquitaine_, I. iii.,
maintains that Griselda flourished about the year 1025, and
that her real history exists in manuscript under the title of
'Parement des Dames.'"--_Notes and Queries_, 3rd Series, vol.
iii. p. 389.]

[Footnote 6: Of this play only two copies are known.]

THE

_HISTORY_

OF THE NOBLE

MARQUIS OF SALUS

AND

PATIENT GRISSEL

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH
YARD, BOW LANE LONDON.

CHAP. 1.

THE MARQUIS OF SALUS IS SOLLICITED BY HIS NOBLES TO MARRY; HE CONSENTS, AND FALLS IN LOVE WITH A POOR COUNTRYMAN'S DAUGHTER.

Between the mountains of Italy and France, towards the South, lies the territory of Salus, a country flourishing with excellent towns, and some castles, and peopled with the best sort of gentry and peasants.--Among them lived not long since a nobleman of great reputation and honour, who was Lord of the country, and by name GUALTER, Marquis of Salus; to whom, as the government appertained by his right of inheritance, so their obedience attended by desert of his worthiness. He was young in years and never had thought of marriage until pressed to it by the desires and petitions of his people, who often importuned him thereto.--At last he consented to it, and fame soon spread the report abroad, and each Princess was filled with hopes of being the Marquis's happy partner.

All this time the Marquis continued his hunting, and usually resorted to a little village not far from Selus where lived a poor countryman named Janicola, overworn in years, and overcome with distress, having nothing to make his life comfortable but an only daughter, who was exceedingly beautiful, modest, and virtuous. But as fire will not lay hid where there is matter of combustibles, so virtue cannot be obscured if there is tongues and ears; for the report of her reached the Marquis, who being satisfied of the truth, and finding her a fit woman to be his wife, resolved to forward the business.--In the mean time the Court was furnished, a Crown and rich apparel prepared for the Queen; but who she was the Nobles all wondered, and the damsels marvelled; while the people in general flocked to see who was to be the happy woman.

At last the nuptial day arrived, and each one looked for a bride, but who she was the next Chapter must discover.

CHAP. 2.

THE MARQUIS DEMANDS, AND MARRIES THE OLD MAN'S DAUGHTER.

When all things were prepared, the Noble Marquis took with him a great Company of Earls Lords Knights Squires, Gentlemen, Ladies, and Attendants, and went from the palace into the country, towards Janicola's house, where the fair maid Grissel, ignorant of what had happened, or of what was to come, had made herself and house clean, determining with the rest of the neighbouring virgins to see this solemnity; at which instant arrived the Marquis with his Company, meeting Grissel with two pitchers of Water which she was carrying home. He asked where her father was? She answered, in the house--Go then, replied he, and tell him I would speak with him. The poor man came forth to him somewhat abashed, until the Marquis taking him by the hand, said That he had a secret to impart to him; and taking him from the rest of the Company spoke to him in the following manner:

"Janicola,

I know thou always lovedst me, and I am satisfied thou dost not hate me now; you have been pleased when I have been pleased, and you will not now be sorrowful if I am satisfied; nay I am sure if it lies in your power, you will further my delight; for I am come with the intention of begging your daughter to be my wife; and I to be your son in law, will you take me for your friend, as I have chose you for a father."

The poor old man was so astonished, that he could not speak for Joy, but when the extasy was over, he thus faintly replied;

"Most gracious Sovereign,

You are my Lord, and therefore I must agree to your will; but you are generous, and therefore take her in God's name, and make me a glad father; and let that God which raiseth up the humble and meek, make her a befitting wife and a fruitful mother."

Why then, quoth the Marquis, let us enter your house, for I must ask her a question before you. So he went in, the company tarrying without in vast astonishment--The fair maid was busied in making it as handsome as she could, and proud to have such a guest under her roof, amazed why he came so accompanied, little conjecturing so great a blessing; but at last the Marquis took hold of her hand and used these speeches. To tell you this blush becomes you, were but a folly; or that your modesty has graced your comliness, is unbecoming my greatness; but in one word, your father and I have agreed to make you my wife, therefore, delays shall not entangle you with suspicion, nor two days longer protract the kindness, only I must be satisfied in this, if your heart affords willing entertainment to the motion, and your virtue and constancy to the following resolution; that is, not to repine at my pleasure in anything, nor presume on contradiction when I command; for as good soldiers must obey without disputing the business, so must virtuous wives dutifully consent without reproof; therefore be advised how you answer, and I charge thee take heed that thy tongue utters no more than thy heart conceits. All this time was Grissel wondering at these words; but thinking nothing impossible with God, made the Marquis the following answer:

"My gracious Lord,

I am not ignorant of your greatness, and know my own weakness. There is nothing worthy in me to be your servant, therefore can have no desert to be your wife. Notwithstanding, because God is the author of Miracles, I yield to your pleasure, and praise him for the fortune. Only this I will be bold to say. That your will shall be my delight; and death shall be more welcome to me, than a word of displeasure against you."

After this the Ladies adorned Grissel with robes befitting her state; the Marquis and all the company returned back to Salus, where in the Cathedral, in the sight of the people according to the fullness of religious ceremonies they were by the priest essentially joined together.

CHAP. 3.

LADY GRISSELS PATIENCE TRIED BY THE MARQUIS.

To the other blessinge in process of time, there was added the birth of a daughter, that rejoiced the mother and gladded the father; the country triumphed, and the people clapped their hands with joy--Notwithstanding this, fortune had a trick to check her pride; and prosperity must be seasoned with some crosses or else it would corrupt us too much. Whereupon the Marquis determined to prove his wife, and to make trial of her virtues indeed; and so taking a convenient season, after the child was weaned, he one day repaired secretly to her chamber, and seeming angry, imparted to her some of his mind.

The lady hearing him, sorrowfully apprehended the Marquis's resolution to her grief (though every word was like an arrow in her side) yet admitted of the temptation, and disputing with herself to what end the virtues of patience, modesty, forbearance, fortitude and magnanimity was ordained, if they had not proper subjects to work upon.

When the Marquis saw her constancy, he was pleased with her modest behaviour, and said but little at that time, but between joy and fear departed; resolving to make a farther trial of her.

CHAP. 4.

THE MARQUIS'S DAUGHTER IS TAKEN FROM HER MOTHER AND SENT TO BOLOGNE TO BE THERE BROUGHT UP.

Not long after this Conference between the Marquis and his Lady, he called a faithful servant, to whom he imparted the secret, and what he meant to do with his child; and then sent him to his wife with an unsavoury message--When she had heard him out, remembering the conference the Marquis had with her, and apprehending there was no room for dispute, feared it was ordained to die; so taking it up in her arms with a mothers blessing she kissed it, being not once amazed or troubled, since her lord would have it so, only she said, I must, friend, intreat one thing at your hand, that out of humanity and Christian love, you leave not the body to be devoured by beasts and birds, for she is worthy of a grave.

The man, having got the Child, durst not tarry, but returned to his master, repeating every circumstance of her answer that might aggrandise her constancy.

The Marquis considering the great virtue of his wife, and looking on the beauty of his daughter, began to entertain some compassion, and to retract his wilfulness; but at last resolution won the field of pity, and having, as he thought so well begun, would not soon give over. But with the same secrecy he had taken her from his wife, he sent her away to his sister the Dutchess of Bologne, with presents of worth, and letters of recommendation, containing in them the nature of the business, and the manner of her bringing up, which she accordingly put into practice.

CHAP. 5.

THE MARQUIS MAKES A FARTHER TRIAL OF HIS WIFE'S PATIENCE.

As this patient and wonderful lady was one day sporting with her infant son, like a tempest did this messenger of death interpose; yet as if he was conscious of disquieting her greatness, he came forward with preamble, craving pardon of the lady, that the message might seem blameless. He was not so sudden in his demand, as she was in her despatch; for she immediately gave him this child also, with the same enforcements as she had done the former.--

In the like manner he returned to the Marquis, who had still more cause for astonishment, and less reason to abuse so obedient a wife; but for a time sent this child likewise to his sister, who understanding her brother's mind brought up the children in such a manner, that tho' no man ever knew whose children they were, yet they supposed them to belong to some great potentate.

The ordering the business in this manner, made the Marquis once again settle himself in Salus, where he kept an open house to all comers, and was proud of nothing but the love of his wife; for although he had more than once tried her patience, yet she never complained, but seemed to love him the more.

By this time his unkindness to her got spread among the people, who all admired and wondered at her for her constancy and patience.

CHAP. 6.

GRISSEL DISROBED, AND SENT HOME TO HER FATHER BY HER HUSBAND;
HER SON AND DAUGHTER BROUGHT HOME, UNDER PRETENCE OF
THE MARQUIS'S MARRYING HER; GRISSEL IS SENT FOR TO MAKE
PREPARATIONS, AND HER CONDESCENSION THEREON.

After this the Marquis was resolved to put her to another trial, so sent for her cloaths, and commanded her to go home again to her father's naked, except her shift; when, being in the midst of her nobility she disrobed herself, and returned back to her father's Cottage. They could not but deplore the alteration of fortune; yet she could not but smile that her virtue was predominant over her passion. They all exclaimed against the cruelty of her Lord; but she used no invective. They wondered at her so great virtue and patience; she answered, They were befitting a modest woman.

By this time they approached the house and old Janicola having been acquainted with it; and seeing his daughter only in her smock, amidst such honourable company, he ran into the house and brought the robes she formerly wore, and putting them on said Now, thou art in thy element, and kissing her bid her welcome. The Company was in amaze at his moderation, and wondered how nature could be so restrained from passion, and that any woman could have so much grace and virtue. In which amaze not without some reprehension of fortune and their Lord's cruelty, they left her to the poverty of the Cell, and returned to the glory of the palace, where they recounted to the Marquis how she continued in her moderation and patience; and the father comforting her in her condition.

Not long after came the Dutchess of Bologne, with her glorious company, she sending word beforehand she should be at Salus such a day. Whereupon the Marquis sent a troop to welcome her, and prepared a court for her entertainment. The effects of which were not agreeable; some condemned the Marquis whilst others deplored his wife's misfortunes. Some were transported with the gallant youth and comely virgin that came along with the Dutchess, the latter of whom it was reported the Marquis was going to marry; nor did the Duke nor Princess know themselves to be the Children of the Marquis, but appeared as strangers designed to be at this new Marriage.

The next morning after their arrival he sent a messenger for Grissel bidding her come and speak with him just in the dress she then was; upon which she immediately waited upon her Lord. At her appearance he was somewhat abashed, but recovering his spirits he thus addressed her:

Grissel, the Lady with whom I must marry will be here to-morrow by this time, and the feast is prepared according--Now, because there is none so well acquainted with the secrets of my palace and disposition of myself but you, I would have you, for all this base attire, address your wisdom to the ordering of the business, appointing such officers as are befitting, and disposing of the rooms according to the degrees and estates of the persons. Let the Lady have the privilege of the marriage chamber, and the young Lord the pleasure of the gallery. Let the wines be plentiful, and the ceremonies be maintained--In a word, let nothing be wanting which may set forth my honour and delight the people.

My Lord, said she, I ever told you, That I took pleasure in nothing but your Contentment, and in whatsoever might conform to your delight. Herein consisted my joy and happiness, therefore make no question of my diligence and duty in this or anything you shall please to impose upon me. And so, like a poor servant she presently addressed herself to the business of the house performing all things with such dispatch and quickness that each one wondered at her goodness and fair demeanor; and many murmured to see her put to such a trial. But the day of entertainment being come, and when the fair lady approached, she looked exceeding beautiful, insomuch that some began not to blame the Marquis for his change. At length Grissel, taking the lady by the hand, thus addressed her: Lady, if it were not his pleasure, that may command, to bid you welcome, yet methinks there is a kind of over ruling grace from nature in you, which must extort a respect unto you.--And as for you young Lord, I can say no more, but if I might have my desires, they should be employed to wish you well--To the rest I afford all that is fit for entertainment, hoping they will excuse whatever they see amiss. And so conducted them to their several apartments, where they agreeably reposed themselves till it was dinner time. When all things were thus prepared, the Marquis sent for his Grissel, and standing up, took her by the hand, and thus expressed himself to her: