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Ne moe, ne moe, alass! I call you myne:
Whydder must you, ah! whydder must I goe?
I kenn not either; oh mie emmers dygne,
To parte wyth you wyll wurcke mee myckle
woe;

I muste be gonne, botte whare I dare ne telle;
O storthe, unto mie mynde! I goe to Helle.
Soone as the morne dyddyghte the roddie Sunne,
A shade of theves eche streake of lyght dyd
[runn,
Whan ynn the Heavn full half hys course was
Eche stirrying nayghbour dyd mie harte afleme:
Thye loss, or quyck or slepe, was aie mie
dreme;

seeme;

For thee, O gould, I dyd the lawe ycrase; For thee, I gotten or bie wiles or breme; Ynn thee I all mie joie and good dyd place; Botte nowe to mee thie pleasaunce ys ne moe, I kenne notte botte for thee I to the quede must goe.

Johne makes a jarre boute Lancaster and Yorke; Bee stille, gode manne, and learne to myade thie

worke.

THE GOULER'S REQUIEM.
BY THE SAME.

MIE boolie entes adieu! ne moe the syghte
Of guilden merke shall mete inie joieous eyne,
Ne moe the sylver noble sheenynge bryghte
Schall fyll mie honde with weight to speke ytt

fyne;

THE ACCOUNT OF W. CANYNGES FEAST. BY THE SAME.

[This poem is taken from a fragment of vellum, which Chatterton gave to Mr. Barrett as an original. With respect to the three friends of Mr. Canynge, mentioned in the last line, the name of Rowley is sufficiently known from the preceding poems. Iscamm appears as an actor in the tragedy of Ælla, and in that of Goddwyn; and a poem, ascribed to him, entitled, The Merry Tricks of Laymington, is inserted in the Discorse of Bristow. Sir Theobald Gorges was a knight of an ancient family seated at Wraxhall, within a few miles of Bristol. (See Rot. Parl, 3 H. VI. n. 28. Leland's Itin. vol. VII. p. 98.) He has also appeared as an actor in both the tragedies, and as the author of one of the mynstrelles songes in Ella. His connection with Mr. Canynge is verified by a deed of the latter, dated 20th October, 1467, in which he gives to trustees, in part of a benefaction of 5001. to the church of St. Mary Redcliffe, "certain jewels of sir Theobald Gorges, knt." which had been pawned to him for 1601.]

1 Daitive, perhaps haitive, or haifliff, hasty, from the French haity, hasty..

THOROWE the halle the belle han sounde;
Byelecoyle doe the grave beseeme;
The ealdermenne doe sytte arounde,
And snoffelle oppe the cheorte steeme.
Lyche asses wyld ynne desarte waste
Swotelye the morneynge ayre doe taste.

Syke keene thie ate; the minstrels plaie,
The dynne of angelles doe theie keepe;
Heie stylle the guestes ha ne to saie,
Butte nodde yer thankes and falle aslape.
Thus echone daie bee I to deene,
Gyf Rowley, 1scamm, or Tyb. Gorges be ne

[seene.

EPITAPH ON ROBERT CANYNGE. [This is one of the fragments of vellum, given by Chatterton to Mr. Barrett, as part of his original MSS.]

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THIS mornynge starre of Radcleves rysynge raie,
A true man goode of mynde and Canynge hyghte,
Benethe thys stone lies moltrynge ynto claie,
Untylle the darke tombe sheene an eterne lyghte.
Thyrde from hys loynes the present Canynge
Houton are wordes for to telle his doe; [came;
For aye shall lyve hys heaven-recorded name,
Ne shall yt dye whanne tyme shall bee no moe;
Whanne Mychael's trumpe shall sounde to rise
the solle,
[hys dolle.
He'll wynge to Heaven with kynne, and happy be

THE STORIE OF WILLIAM CANYNGE. [The first 34 lines of this poem are extant upon another of the vellum fragments, given by Chatterton to Mr. Barrett. The remainder is printed from another copy, furnished by Mr. Catcott, with some corrections from another copy, made by Mr. Barrett from one in Chatterton's hand-writing. This poem makes part of a prose work, attributed to Rowley, giving an account of painters, carvellers, poets, and other eminent natives of Bristol, from the earliest times to his own.

It may be proper just to remark here, that Mr. Canynge's brother, mentioned in ver. 129, who was lord mayor of London in 1456, is called Thomas, by Stowe, in his List of Mayors, &c. The transaction alluded to in the last stanza is related at large in some prose memoirs of Rowley. It is there said that Mr. Canynge went into orders, to avoid a marriage, proposed by king Edward, between him and a lady of the Widdevile family. It is certain, from the register of the bishop of Worcester, that Mr. Canynge was ordained Acolythe by bishop Carpenter on 19 September, 1467, and received the higher orders of subdeacon, deacon, and priest, on the 12th of March, 1467, O. S. the 2d and 16th of April, 1468, respectively.]

ANENT a brooklette as I laie reclynd,
Listeynge to heare the water glyde alonge,
Myndeynge how thorowe the greene mees yt
twynd,
Awhilst the cavys respons'd yts mottring songe,
At dystaunt rysyng Avonne to be sped,
Amenged wyth rysyng hylles dyd shewe yts head;

Engarlanded wyth crownes of osyer weedes
And wraytes of alders of a bercie scent,
And stickeynge out wyth clowde agested reedes,
The hoarie Avonne show'd dyre semblamente,
Whylest blataunt Severne, from Sabryna clepde,
Rores flemie o'er the sandes that she hepde.

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Wyth sweet semblate and an angel's grace
She 'gan to lecture from her gentle breste;
For Trouthis wordes ys her myndes face,
False oratoryes she dyd aie deteste:
Sweetnesse was yn eche worde she dyd ywreene,
Tho shee strove not to make that sweetnesse
sheene.

These cynegears swythyn bringethe to my thowghte
Of hardie champyons knowen to the floude,
How onne the bankes thereof brave Alle foughte,
Elle descended from Merce kynglie bloude,
Warden of Brystowe towne and castel stede,
Who ever and anon made Danes to blede.

a

Methoughte such doughtie menn must have sprighte

1 Unauthorized. Dean Milles says it is the old English word nete or nought, with the prefix; to which corresponds the old French verb aneantised (annihilated) used by Chaucer. But there is no proof, that the word nete has ever been used as a verb, even if it exists.

Dote yn the armour brace that Mychael bore,
Whan he wyth Satan kynge of Helle dyd fyghte,
And Eartbe was drented yn a mere of gore;

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And put hys broder ynto syke a trade, [made.
That he lorde mayor of Londonne towne was
Eftsoons hys mornynge tourned to gloomie nyghte;
Hys dame, hys seconde selfe, give upp her brethe,
Seekynge for eterne lyfe and endless lyghte,
And sleed good Canynge; sad mystake of dethe!
So have I seen a flower ynn sommer ty me
Trodde downe and broke and widder ynn ytts
pryme.

He had a fader, (Jesus rest his soule!)
Who loved money, as bys charie joie;
Hee had a broder (happie manne be's dole!)
Yn mynde and boddie, hys owne fadre's boie;
What then could Canynge wissen as a parte
To gyve to her whoe had made chop of hearte?

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But landes and castle tenures, golde and bighes,
And hoardes of sylver rousted yn the ent,
Canynge aud hys fayre sweete dyd that despyse,
To change of troulie love was they re content;
Theie lyv'd togeder yn a house adygne,
Of goode sendaument commilie and fyne.

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But soon hys broder and hys syre dyd die,
And lefte to Willyam states and renteynge rolles,
And at hys wyll hys broder Johne supplie.
Hee gave a chauntrie to redeeme theyre soules;

Fyve Aves ande on Pater moste be sedde; Twayne songe, the on hys songe of Willowe Rue The odher one

FRAGMENT,

BY JOHN, SECOND ABBATTE OF SEYNCTE AUSTYNS MYNSTERRE.

66

[From Barrett's History of Bristol. It was sent by Chatterton to Horace Walpole, as a note to Rowleie's Historie of Peyneters. "This John," he says, was inducted abbot in the year 1186, and sat in the dies 29 years. He was the greatest poet of the age in which he lived; he understood the learned languages. Take a specimen of his poetry on King Richard 1st."] HARTE of lyone! shake thie sworde, Bare thie mortheynge steinede honde: Quace whole armies to the queede, Worke thie wylle yn burlie bronde. Barons here on bankers-browded, Fyghte yn furres gaynste the cale; Whilest thou ynne thonderynge armes Warriketh whole cyttes bale. Harte of lyon! sound the beme! Sounde ytte ynto inner londes, Freare flies sportine ynne the cleeme, Inne thie banner terror stondes.

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Or warres glumm pleasaunce doe I chaunte mie laie, [the lyne, Trouthe tips the poynctelle, wysdomme skemps Whylste hoare experiaunce telleth what toe saie, And forwyned hosbandrie wyth blearie eyne, Stondeth and woe bements; the trecklynge bryne Rounnynge adone hys cheekes which doeth shewe Lyke hys unfrutefulle fieldes, longe straungers to the ploughe.

Saie, Glowster, whanne besprenged on evrich syde, The gentle hyndlette and the vylleyn felle; Whanne smetheynge sange dyd flowe lyke to a tyde,

And sprytes were damned for the lacke of knelle, Diddest thou kenne ne lykeness to an Helle, Where all were misdeedes doeyng lyche unwise, Where hope unbarred and deathe eftsoones dyd shote theyre eies.

Ye shepster swaynes who the ribibble kenne, Ende the thyghte daunce, ne loke uponne the spere: [menne, In ugsommnesse ware moste bee dyghte toe Unseliness attendethe honourewere; Quaffe your swote vernage and atreeted beere.

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YNNE whilomme daies, as Stowe saies,
Ynne famous Brystowe towne

There lyved knyghtes doghtie yn fyghtes
Of marvellous renowne.

A Saxonne boulde renowned of oulde

For dethe and dernie dede,

Maint Tanmen slone the Brugge uponne
Icausynge hem to blede.

Baldwynne hys name, Rolles saie the same
And yev hymme rennome grate,
Hee lyved nere the Ellynteire

Al bie Seyncte Lenardes yate.
A mansion hie, made bosmorelie,
Was reered bie hys honde,
Whanne he ysterve, hys name unkerve
Inne Baldwynne streete doe stonde.
On Ellie then of Mercyann menne
As meynte of Pentells blase,
Inne Castle-stede made dofull dede

And dydde the Dans arase.

None of Rowley's pieces were ever made public, being till the year 1631 shut up in an iron

cbest in Redcliff church.

One Leefwyne of kyngelie Lyne

Inne Brystowe towne dyd leve,
And toe the samme for hys gode name
The Ackmanne Yate dyd gev.
Hammon a Jorde of hie accorde

Was ynne the strete nempte brede;
So greate hys myghte, soe strynge yn fyghte
Onne Byker hee dyd fede.

Fitz Lupous digne of gentle lyne

Onne Radclyve made hys Baie, Inn moddie Gronne the whyche uponne Botte reittes and roshes laie. Than Radclyve Strete of mansyonnes meete In semelie gare doe stonde, And Canynge grete of fayre estate Bryngeth to tradynge londe. Hardynge dydde comme from longe kyngddomme Inne Knyvesmythe strete to lyne, Roberte hys sonne, moche gode thynges donne As abbattes doe blasynne.

Roberte the erle, ne conkered curll

In castle stede dyd fraie
Yynge Henrie to ynn Brystowe true
As Hydelle dyd obaie.

A maioure dheene bee and Jamne hee
Botte anne ungentle wyghte,
Seyncte Marie tende eche ammie frende
Bie hallie taper lyghte.

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1

D

tending to confirm the authenticity of these poems. In the first place, this sort of macaronic verse of mixed languages is a style used in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Dante has some of these amongst his Rhyme, (p. 226. vol. 2d. Venice 1741) which are composed of French, Italian, and Latin, and conclude thus:

Namque locutus sum in linguâ trinâ. Skelton, who lived not long after Rowley, has also poems in the same kind of verse. Secondly, the correctness of the Latin, and the propriety of the answers in English, show it to have been written at least by a better scholar than Chatterton. Thirdly, the low humour of the dialogue, although suited to the taste of that early and illiterate age, could be no object of imitation to a modern poet. But it is a most remarkable circumstance, that he has introduced his two Cockneies under the names of two most respectable aldermen of the city of London, who lived about the year 1380, sir William Walworth and sir John Philpot; men of such distinguished reputation, not only in their own city, but also in the whole kingdom, that the first parliament of Richard the Second, in granting a subsidy to that king, made it subject to the controul and management of these two citizens. (Walsingham, p. 200. Rapin, vol. i. p. 454 and 458.)

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■This salutation, which should be written God ye good den, is more than once used by Shakespear: In Love's Labour Lost, the clown says,

God ye good morrow gentlemen; to which the latter replies,

God ye good den, fair gentlewoman, And in the Exmoor Courtship,

Good den, good den;

Quæ requirit misericordiam mala causa est.
Alack, alack, a sad dome mine in fay,
But oft with cityzens it is the case;
Honesta turpitudo pro bonâ
Causâ mori, as auntieut pensmen sayse.

WALWORTH.

God ye good even. VOL. XV.

which the glossafist on that pamphlet properly explains by the wish of a good evening; and Mr. Steevens observes on the passage in Love's Labour Lost, that this contraction is not unusual in our ancient comic writers, and quotes the play called the Northern Lass, by R. Brome, 1633, for the following phrase:

THE MERRIE TRICKS OF LAMYNGETOWNE.

BY MAYSTRE JOHN A ISCAM.

[From Dean Milles's edition.]

A RYGOUROUS doome is myne, upon mie faie:
Before the parent starre, the lyghtsome Sonne,
Hath three tymes lyghted up the cheerful daie,
To other reaulmes must Laymingtonne be goune,
Or else my flymsie thredde of lyfe is spunne;
And shall I hearken to a cowarts reede,
And from so vain a shade, as lyfe is, runne?
No! flie all thoughtes of runynge to the queed:
No! here I'll staie, and let the Cockneies see,
That Laymyntone the brave, will Layinynge-
towne still be.

God dig you den all. Act iv. Sc. 1. That is to say, God give you a good evening; for dig is undoubtedly a mistake for give.

So in the dialogue between the Nurse and Mercutio, in Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 5. the for- I go my boon companions for to fynde.

mer says,

To fyght, and not to flee, my sabatans
I'll don, and girth my swerde unto my syde;
I'll
go to ship, but not to foreyne landes,
But act the pyrate, rob in every tyde;
With Cockneies bloude Thamysis shall be dyde,
Theire goodes in Bristowę markette shall be solde.
My bark the laverd of the waters ryde,
Her sayles of scarlette and her stere of golde;
My men the Saxonues, I the Hengyst bee,
And in my shyppe combyne the force of all their

three.

Go to my trustie menne in Selwoods chase,
That through the lessel hunt the burled boare,
Tell them how standes with me the present case,
And bydde them revel down at Watchets shore,
And saunt about in hawlkes and woods no more;
Let every auntrous knyghte his armour brase,
Their meats be mans fleshe, and theyre beverage

gore,

Hancele, or hanceled, from the human race; Bid them, like mee theyre leeder, shape theyre mynde [kyude. To be a bloudie foe in armes, gaynst all man

RALPH.

[Ralph goes out.

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