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"Alas! young knight," she weeping said,

"Condole my wretched fate:

A childless mother here you see ;

A wife without a mate.

These twenty winters here forlorn
I've drawn my hated breath;
Sole witness of a monster's crimes,
And wishing aye for death.

Know, I am sister of a king;
And in my early years

Was married to a mighty prince,
The fairest of his peers.

With him I sweetly liv'd in love

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A twelvemonth and a day :

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When, lo! a foul and treacherous priest
Y-wrought our loves' decay.

His seeming goodness wan him pow'r ;

He had his master's ear:

And long to me and all the world

He did a saint appear.

One day, when we were all alone,

He proffer'd odious love :

The wretch with horrour I repuls'd,
And from my presence drove.

Which, for his seeming penitence,

He feign'd remorse, and piteous beg'd

His crime I'd not reveal:

I promis'd to conceal.

With treason, villainy, and wrong
My goodness he repay'd:

With jealous doubts he fill'd my lord,
And me to woe betray'd.

He hid a slave within my bed,

Then rais'd a bitter cry.

My lord, possest with rage, condemn'd
Me, all unheard, to dye.

VOL. III.

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But 'cause I then was great with child,
At length my life he spar'd:
But bade me instant quit the realme,
One trusty knight my guard.

Forth on my journey I depart,

Opprest with grief and woe;

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And tow'rds my brother's distant court,
With breaking heart, I goe.

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Long time thro' sundry foreign lands

We slowly pace along :

At length within a forest wild

I fell in labour strong:

And while the knight for succour sought,

And left me there forlorn,

My childbed pains so fast increast
Two lovely boys were born.

The eldest fair, and smooth, as snow
That tips the mountain hoar:

The younger's little body rough
With hairs was cover'd o'er.

But here afresh begin my woes :

While tender care I took

To shield my eldest from the cold,
And wrap him in my cloak;

A prowling bear burst from the wood,
And seiz'd my younger son:
Affection lent my weakness wings,
And after them I run.

But all forewearied, weak and spent,
I quickly swoon'd away;

And there beneath the greenwood shade
Long time I lifeless lay.

At length the knight brought me relief,
And rais'd me from the ground:

But neither of my pretty babes

Could ever more be found.

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And, while in search we wander'd far,
We met that gyant grim ;

Who ruthless slew my trusty knight,
And bare me off with him.

But charm'd by heav'n, or else my griefs,

He offer'd me no wrong;

Save that within these lonely walls
I've been immur'd so long."

"Now, surely," said the youthful knight,

"You are lady Bellisance,

Wife to the Grecian emperor :
Your brother's king of France.

For in your royal brother's court
Myself my breeding had ;
Where oft the story of your woes
Hath made my bosom sad.

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If so, know your accuser's dead,

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And dying own'd his crime;

And long your lord hath sought you out
Thro' every foreign clime.

And when no tidings he could learn

Of his much-wronged wife,

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He vow'd thenceforth within his court
To lead a hermit's life."

"Now heaven is kind!" the lady said;

And dropt a joyful tear:

"Shall I once more behold my lord?

That lord I love so dear?"

"But, madam," said sir Valentine,

And knelt upon his knee;

"Know you the cloak that wrapt your babe,
If you the same should see ?"

And pulling forth the cloth of gold,
In which himself was found;

The lady gave a sudden shriek,
And fainted on the ground.

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But by his pious care reviv'd,

His tale she heard anon;

And soon by other tokens found,

He was indeed her son.

"But who's this hairy youth?" she said; "He much resembles thee:

The bear devour'd my younger son,

Or sure that son were he."

"Madam, this youth with bears was bred,

And rear'd within their den.

But recollect ye any mark

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To know your son agen ?"

Upon his little side," quoth she,

"Was stampt a bloody rose."

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"Here, lady, see the crimson mark
Upon his body grows!"

Then clasping both her new-found sons
She bath'd their cheeks with tears;
And soon towards her brother's court
Her joyful course she steers.

What pen can paint king Pepin's joy,
His sister thus restor❜d!

And soon a messenger was sent

To chear her drooping lord:

Who came in haste with all his peers,
To fetch her home to Greece;
Where many happy years they reign'd
In perfect love and peace.

To them sir Ursine did succeed,

And long the scepter bare.

Sir Valentine he stay'd in France
And was his uncle's heir.

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XIII.

THE DRAGON OF WANTLEY.

THIS humorous song (as a former Editor * has well observed) is to old metrical romances and ballads of chivalry, what Don Quixote is to prose narratives of that kind :-a lively satire on their extravagant fictions. But altho' the satire is thus general, the subject of this ballad is local and peculiar ; so that many of the finest strokes of humour are lost for want of our knowing the minute circumstances to which they allude. Many of them can hardly now be recovered, altho' we have been fortunate enough to learn the general subject to which the satire referred, and shall detail the information, with which we have been favoured, in a separate memoir at the end of the poem.

In handling his subject, the author has brought in most of the common incidents which occur in Romance. The description of the dragon +-his outrages-the people flying to the knight for succour-his care in chusing his armour-his being drest for fight by a young damsel-and most of the circumstances of the battle and victory (allowing for the burlesque turn given to them) are what occur in every book of chivalry, whether in prose or verse.

If any one piece, more than other, is more particularly levelled at, it seems to be the old rhiming legend of sir Bevis. There a Dragon is attacked from a Well in a manner not very remote from this of the ballad:

"There was a well, so have I wynne,
And Bevis stumbled ryght therein.

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*Collection of Historical Ballads in 3 vol. 1727.
† See above pag. 106 & p. 190.

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