The Duke to the river fide he went,

And there his owne fword in threwe he:

But he kept back Excalibar,

He kept it back in privitie.

For all of coley was the blade;

And all the hilte of precious stone :

"And ever alacke !" then fayd the Knighte, "Muft fuch a fword awaye be throwne ?"

Then backe he came unto the Kinge,

Who fayd," Sir Lukyn, what did yee see ?”— -"Nothing, my liege, fave that the winde "Blewe o'er the waters faire and free.-

goe againe," then said the Kinge, "O good Sir Lukyn, goe againe : "Into the rivere throwe my fword,

"Nor keepe me lingering here in paine."

The Duke then to the river went,

And the King's scabberd in threwe hee;

But hee kept backe Excalibar,

And hid it undernethe a tree.

Then backe he came to tell the Kinge,
Who fayde," Sir Lukyn fawe ye oughte?"-
Nothinge, my liege, fave that the winde
Nowe with the angrye waters fought."-

-" O Lukyn, Lukyn," faid the Kinge,
"Twice hafte thou dealt deceytfullye:
"Alacke, whom may wee ever trüfte,
"When fuche a Knight foe falfe can bee?

"Saye, would't thou have thy mafter dead;
"All for a fword, that wins thine eye:
"Nowe goe againe, and throwe it in,
"Or here the one of us fhall dye."-

The Duke, all fhent with this rebuke,
No aunfwere made unto the Kinge:
But to the rivere tooke the fworde,

And threwe it far as he coulde flinge.

A hande and an arme did meete the fworde,
And flourishd three times in the air;
Then funke benethe the renninge ftreme,
And of the Duke was feene noe mair.

All fore aftonied ftood the Duke;

He stood as ftill, as ftill mote bee: Then haftend backe to telle the Kinge; But he was gone from under the tree.

But to what place he cold not tell,

For never after hee did him spye :
But hee fawe a barge goe from the land,
And hee heard ladyes howle and crye.

And

And whether the Kinge were there, or not,
Hee never knewe, nor ever colde :

For from that fad and direfulle daye,
Hee never more was feene on molde.

No. XLVII.

FAIR MARGARET

AND

SWEET WILLIAM.

From "Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry."

As it fell out on a long fummer's day
Two lovers they fat on a hill;
They fat together that long summer's day,
And could not talk their fill.

"I fee no harm by you, Margaret, "And you fee none by mee;

"Before to-morrow at eight o' the clock "A rich wedding you fhall fee."

Fair Margaret fat in her bower-windòw,
Combing her yellow hair;

'There the spyed Sweet William and his bride,

As they were a riding near,

Then

Then down fhe layd her ivory combe,
And braided her hair in twain:
She went alive out of her bower,

But ne'er came alive in't again.

When day was gone, and night was come,
And all men fast asleep,

Then came the spirit of Fair Marg❜ret,

And stood at William's feet.

"Are you awake, Sweet William ?" fhee faid; "Or, Sweet William, are you asleep? "God give you joy of your gay bride-bed, "And me of my winding fheet."

When day was come, and night was gone,
And all men wak'd from fleep,

Sweet William to his lady fayd,

-"My dear, I have cause to weep:

"I dreamt a dream, my dear ladyè,
"Such dreames are never good:
"I dreamt my bower was full of red wine,
"And my bride-bed full of blood."-

-"Such dreams, fuch dreams, my honoured Sir, They never do prove good;

"To dream thy bower was full of red wine,

"And thy bride-bed full of blood."

He