"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 Know, I am sister of a king; Was married to a mighty prince, With him I sweetly liv'd in love 100 105 A twelvemonth and a day : 110 When, lo! a foul and treacherous priest 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, 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 With jealous doubts he fill'd my lord, He hid a slave within my bed, Then rais'd a bitter cry. My lord, possest with rage, condemn'd VOL. III. M 115 120 125 130 But 'cause I then was great with child, Forth on my journey I depart, Opprest with grief and woe; 135 And tow'rds my brother's distant court, 140 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 The eldest fair, and smooth, as snow The younger's little body rough But here afresh begin my woes : While tender care I took To shield my eldest from the cold, A prowling bear burst from the wood, But all forewearied, weak and spent, And there beneath the greenwood shade At length the knight brought me relief, But neither of my pretty babes Could ever more be found. 145 150 155 160 165 And, while in search we wander'd far, Who ruthless slew my trusty knight, But charm'd by heav'n, or else my griefs, He offer'd me no wrong; Save that within these lonely walls "Now, surely," said the youthful knight, "You are lady Bellisance, Wife to the Grecian emperor : For in your royal brother's court 170 175 180 If so, know your accuser's dead, 185 And dying own'd his crime; And long your lord hath sought you out And when no tidings he could learn Of his much-wronged wife, 190 He vow'd thenceforth within his court "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, And pulling forth the cloth of gold, The lady gave a sudden shriek, 195 200 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 66 To know your son agen ?" Upon his little side," quoth she, "Was stampt a bloody rose." 205 210 215 "Here, lady, see the crimson mark Then clasping both her new-found sons What pen can paint king Pepin's joy, And soon a messenger was sent To chear her drooping lord: Who came in haste with all his peers, To them sir Ursine did succeed, And long the scepter bare. Sir Valentine he stay'd in France 220 225 230 235 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, *Collection of Historical Ballads in 3 vol. 1727. |