Thus dreadful death did me arrest,

To bring my corpes unto the And like a palmer dyed I,

grave;

Wherby I sought my soule to save.

My body that endured this toyle,

Though now it be consumed to mold;
My statue faire engraven in stone,
In Warwicke still you may behold.

130

135

II.

GUY AND AMARANT.

The Editor found this Poem in his ancient folio manuscript among the old ballads; he was desirous, therefore, that it should still accompany them; and as it is not altogether devoid of merit, its insertion here will be pardoned.

Although this piece seems not imperfect, there is reason to believe that it is only a part of a much larger poem, which contained the whole history of sir Guy: for, upon comparing it with the common story book 12mo, we find the latter to be nothing more than this poem reduced to prose: which is only affected by now and then altering the rhyme, and throwing out some few of the poetical ornaments. The disguise is so slight, that it is an easy matter to pick complete stanzas in any page of that book.

The author of this poem has shown some invention. Though he took the subject from the old romance quoted before, he has adorned it afresh, and made the story entirely his own.

GUY journeyes towards that sanctified ground,
Whereas the Jewes fayre citye sometime stood,
Wherin our Saviours sacred head was crownd,

And where for sinfull man he shed his blood:

To see the sepulcher was his intent,

The tombe that Joseph unto Jesus lent.

5

With tedious miles he tyred his wearye feet,
And passed desart places full of danger,
At last with a most woefull wight* did meet,

A man that unto sorrow was noe stranger:
For he had fifteen sonnes, made captives all
To slavish bondage, in extremest thrall.

A gyant called Amarant detaind them,

10

Whom noe man durst encounter for his strength: Who in a castle, which he held, had chaind them: 15 Guy questions, where? and understands at length The place not farr.-Lend me thy sword, quoth hee, Ile lend my manhood all thy sonnes to free.

With that he goes, and lays upon the dore,

Like one that sayes, I must, and will come in: 20 The gyant never was soe rowz'd before:

For noe such knocking at his gate had bin : Soe takes his keyes, and clubb, and cometh out Staring with ireful countenance about.

Sirra, quoth hee, what busines hast thou heere ? 25
Art come to feast the crowes about my walls?
Didst never heare, noe ransome can him cleere,
That in the compasse of my furye falls:

For making me to take a porters paines,
With this same clubb I will dash out thy braines. 30

• Erle Jonas, mentioned in the foregoing ballad.

Gyant, quoth Guy, y'are quarrelsome I see,
Choller and you seem very neere of kin :
Most dangerous at the clubb belike you bee;

I have bin better armd, though nowe goe thin;
But shew thy utmost hate, enlarge thy spight,
Keene is my weapon, and shall doe me right.

35

Soe draws his sword, salutes him with the same
About the head, the shoulders, and the side:
Whilst his erected clubb doth death proclaime,
Standinge with huge Colossus' spacious stride, 40
Putting such vigour to his knotty beame,
That like a furnace he did smoke extreame.

But on the ground he spent his strokes in vaine,
For Guy was nimble to avoyde them still,
And ever ere he heav'd his clubb againe,

Did brush his plated coat against his will:
Att such advantage Guy wold never fayle,
To bang him soundlye in his coate of mayle.

Att last through thirst the gyant feeble grewe,

45

And sayd to Guy, As thou'rt of humane race, 50 Shew itt in this, give natures wants their dewe,

Let me but goe, and drinke in yonder place: Thou canst not yeeld to 'me' a smaller thing, Than to graunt life, thats given by the spring.

I graunt thee leave, quoth Guye, goe drink thy last, Go pledge the dragon, and the salvage bore:* 56 Succeed the tragedyes that they have past,

But never thinke to taste cold water more: Drinke deepe to Death and unto him carouse: Bid him receive thee in his earthen house.

60

Soe to the spring' he goes, and slakes his thirst;
Takeing the water in extremely like
Some wracked shipp that on a rocke is burst,
Whose forced hulke against the stones does stryke;
Scooping it in soe fast with both his hands,
That Guy admiring to behold it stands.

Come on, quoth Guy, let us to worke againe,
Thou stayest about thy liquor overlong;

The fish, which in the river doe remaine,

65

Will want thereby; thy drinking doth them wrong:

But I will see their satisfaction made,

71

With gyants blood they must, and shall be payd.

Villaine, quoth Amarant, Ile crush thee streight;
Thy life shall pay thy daring toungs offence:
This clubb, which is about some hundred weight, 75
Is deathes commission to dispatch thee hence:
Dresse thee for ravens dyett I must needes;
And breake thy bones, as they were made of reedes.

• Which Guy had slain before. Ver. 64. bulke, MS. and PCC.