the Bible. All through the thirteenth century, under the influence of the friars who had come to England in 1221, the production of religious literature went on; and towards its close or in the early years of its successor we have cycles of legend written both in the south and the north of England. In 1303 Robert Mannyng, who became a canon of the Gilbertine order at Sempringham, six miles from his native place, Brunne (or Bourne), in Lincolnshire, translated, under the title Handlyng Synne, the Manuel des Pechez, written in French by William of Waddington some thirty years earlier. Mannyng added freely to his original, and his poem, with its mixture of exhortation, satire, and anecdote, is by no means dull reading. Here, for instance, are a few lines from an attack on the trailing gowns of women and their saffron-colour wimples:

Lyrics.

Meanwhile lyric poetry, both secular and religious, was springing up. The famous 'Sumer is i-cumen in,' written about the middle of the thirteenth century, and reproduced on page 43 in reduced facsimile from a manuscript in the British Museum, owes some of its reputation to the fact that the music also has been preserved, and is said to be the earliest of English authorship in existence; but the words are pretty enough in themselves :

went

did-deed

date :

Blou, northerne wynd,

Send thou me my suetyng,

done

As' now ys custome comunly.'

In the wurschip of oure lady,

One of hem swore hys othe

Some of the religious lyrics are no less musical than these snatches we have quoted, and with the music they combine that vivid sense of the shortness of life, of the joys of heaven and 'the stronge pine of helle,' and of the sweetness of the love of Christ, which, amid all its legendary excrescences, gives such reality to medieval religious literature. Secular and religious alike, the best of the few thirteenth-century lyrics that have come down to us strike a note that is only heard again twice in English literature-in Elizabethan times and, with a difference, in the nineteenth century.

Passing from these lyrics, we must notice The Owl and the Nightingale, written about the middle of the century, and attributed to a Master Nicholas of Guildford, who is mentioned in it. The form of the poem is that of a 'strife' or contention between the two birds, and the opening lines (text from Specimens of Early English; ed. R. Morris, 1885) which give the local colour are perhaps the prettiest of the poem :

Ich was in one sumere dale,
In one swithe digele hale,
I-herde ich holde grete tale
An ule and one nightingale.

That plait was stif and starc and strong,

Sum wile softe, and lud among,

And aither agen other swal,

And let that vule mode ut al.
And either seide of otheres custe
That alre-worste that hi wuste ;
And hure and hure of otheres songe
Hi heolde plaiding swithe stronge.
The nightingale bi-gon the speche,
In one hurne of one beche;
And sat up one vaire boghe,
Thar were abute blosme i-noghe,
In ore waste thicke hegge,
I-meind mid spire and grene segge.
Heo was the gladur vor the rise,
And song a vele cunne wise :
Bet thughte the drem that he were
Of harpe and pipe, than he nere,
Bet thughte that he were i-shote
Of harpe and pipe than of throte.

very secret nook talk owl

Hit was thare ule earding-stowe.

4

overgrown with ivy 6

1 Sometimes soft, at others hard. 2 And let out all that evil mood. 3 The worst of all they knew. Mingled with grass and green sedge. 5 The sound seemed more like that of harp and pipe than not more as if sped from harp or pipe than from a throat. 6 It was the dwelling-place of the owl.

Chronicles and Romances.

Shortly after 1297 a Metrical Chronicle was written in Gloucestershire dialect by a monk named Robert, who probably lived at Gloucester, and who, after the usual preliminary sketch of history from the earliest times (borrowed chiefly from Henry of Huntingdon and William of Malmesbury), gives an account of his own times, which now and again has the vivid touch of an eye-witness, or one who had mixed with eyewitnesses. Thus Robert describes the darkness which extended for thirty miles during the battle of Evesham, and he gives this spirited account of a scene in the streets of Gloucester:

A freinss knight was at Gloucetre the sserreve thoru the king,

Sir Maci de Besile and constable also.

The barons it bispeke, that it was noght wel ido;
Ac aghe the pourveance, vor hii nolde Frenss man non.
An-other sserreve hii made thoru commun conseil echon
A knight of the contreie, Sir William Traci,
And of thulke poer clene pulte out Sir Maci.
Ac Sir William ssire huld in a monenday
Sir Maci com i-armed, as mani man isay,
With poer isend fram the court, i-armed wel inou,
And evene as the ssire sat to the tounes ende him drou.
Hii alighte with drawe suerd with macis manion,
And with mani an hard stroc rumede hor wey anon.
Vort hii come up to the deis and the sserreve vaste
Bi the top hii hente anon and to the grounde him caste,
And harlede him vorth villiche with mani stroc among.
In a foul plodde in the stret sutthe me him slong,
And orne on him mid hor hors and defoulede him vaste,
And bihinde a squier sutthe villiche hii him caste,
And to the castel him ladde thoru out the toun,
That reuthe it was vor to se, and caste him in prison.

contention

I

Tho the tithings her of com to the baronie

swelled

2

character

3

now and again

They

corner

fair bough enough

one

4

She-branch

very clever manner

5

Hii thoghte in time amendi suich vileinie.

(Lines 11061-11081.)

A French knight was at Gloucester, made sheriff by the king,

Sir Macy de Besile, and constable also.

The barons spoke against it that it was not well i-do,
So they made provision, for they would Frenchman none.
Another sheriff made they by consent of every one,
A knight of the country, Sir William Traci,

And from that same power clean pulled out Sir Maci.
As Sir William held shire upon a Monday

Sir Maci came all armed, as many men i-say [saw],
With a power sent from the court, armed well enough,
And even as the shire sat to the town's end him drew.
They lighted down with drawn sword, with maces many

a one,

And with many a hard stroke made room and way anon.

cast him in prison.

When the tidings hereof came to the barony

They thought in time they should amend such villainy.

It must be allowed that even episodes like this are better as history than as poetry, and Robert of Gloucester's Chronicle is not easy to read for more than a few pages. The slightly later Chronicle of Robert Mannyng, the author of the Handlyng Synne, is even less valuable, being mainly founded on Wace's version of Geoffrey of Monmouth, and, save in the pleasant preface on the need of books in the English language, is of no originality, literary or historical. The Handlyng Synne by its abundance of anecdotes gives a real picture of the time, while the Chronicle, which professes to be history, is entirely fictitious, and dull as well.

To the thirteenth century belong, besides the works at which we have already looked, at least three important romances, Sir Tristrem, Havelok, and Horn, in all of which a tradition at one time British or English seems to have come back to its original home after being developed on foreign. soil or in a foreign tongue. As is well known, the romance of sir Tristrem was

attributed by its first editor, Sir Walter Scott, to Thomas Rymour of Ercildoune or Earlston in Berwick (fl. 1280), and not without reason, since in the Chronicle of Robert Mannyng mention is made of it in connection with Ercildoune and a Thomas; and the reference, with its mention of the strange English in which the story is written, might well point, as

Perspice, christicola, que dignacio! celitus agricola

pro uitis uicio,

filio

non parcens, exposuit

mortis exicio;

Reduced facsimile from the Harleian MSS. 978.1

Qui captiuos semiuiuos

a supplicio

vite donat,

et secum coronat

in celi solio

[Behold, Christian, what condescension! The husbandman from heaven, for the fault of the vine, not sparing His Son, offered him to the destruction of death, and He restores the half-perished prisoners from punishment to life, and crowns them with him in the throne of heaven.]

The eleven Latin lines in the right-hand lower corner in a smaller hand are directions for the singing of the 'rota' or round.

has been supposed, to an earlier Scottish text of which the extant version is a southernised transcript. Unfortunately, a hundred years earlier, the German version by Gottfried of Strasburg had also ascribed the authorship of the plot to a Thomas, and this Thomas could not possibly be Thomas of Ercildoune. It is possible, of course, that the Thomas mentioned in the German version and Thomas of Ercildoune both handled the story; but it is possible also that the fame of the prophecies of the Scottish Thomas led to the work of his unknown namesake being ascribed to him, and in the absence of any other Scottish work of this kind until many years later, this second theory seems the more credible of the two. The story, whoever wrote it, is told not without some skill, though with its full share of the surplusage by which so many of the later romances are damaged. As a specimen of its style and metre we may take the lines which tell how the famous love-potion mixed by Yseult's mother, and entrusted to the maiden Brengwain to cement the love of Yseult and King Mark, was unwittingly shared by Yseult and Tristram, to their undoing:

(Sir Tristrem; ed. G. P. M'Neill, Scottish Text Society, 1886, II. 1644-1683.)

1 One against them three-that is, he rowed continuously, while they took turns. 2 A pin placed in the cup to measure the amount drunk. 3 That is, to drink; the To say is a mere expletive.

The story of Havelok the Dane, which in our own day provided Mr William Morris with the plot of his prose romance, Child Christopher, is of a king's son of one country and a king's daughter of another, each of them kept out of their rights by wicked guardians; of the hap which brings them together, and the might with which the king's son wins back both his own kingdom and his wife's. The fisherman Grim who was bidden to kill Havelok of Denmark brings him to England, and himself becomes the founder of Grimsby. Havelok wanders to Lincoln, and serves in the kitchen of the Earl Godrich of Cornwall, who is anxious to be rid of his ward Goldburgh, whose kingdom he enjoys. But her father had bidden the Earl marry Goldburgh to the handsomest and strongest man he could find, and when the kitchenlad Havelok performs wonderful feats of strength, he insists on Goldburgh marrying him in order to get her out of the way. Not unnaturally Goldburgh is very angry, and this is how she is reassured:

On the nith, als Goldeborw lay,
Sory and sorwful was she ay,
For she wende she were bi-swike,
That she were yeven un-kyndelike.
O nith saw she ther-inne a lith,
A swithe fayr, a swithe bryth,
Al so brith, al so shir,
So it were a blase of fir.

She lokede north, and ek south,

And saw it comen ut of his mouth
That lay bi hire in the bed :
No ferlike thou she were adred,
Thouthe she, 'Wat may this bi-mene!
He beth heyman yet, als y wene,
He beth heyman er he be ded :'
On hise shuldre, of gold red
She saw a swithe noble croiz;
Of an angel she herde a voyz:
'Goldeborw, lat thi sorwe be,
For Havelok, that haveth spuset the,
[Is] kinges sone, and kinges eyr,
That bikenneth that croiz so fayr.
It bikenneth more, that he shal
Denemark haven and Englond al;
He shal ben king strong and stark
Of Engelond and Denemark;
That shalt thu wit thine eyne sen,
And tho shalt quen and levedi ben.'

night-as

deceived

light

exceedingly

clear

fire

out

2

Thought

nobleman

Cross voice

espoused

heir betokens

lady

(The Lay of Havelok the Dane; ed. W. W. Skeat, E.E.T.S., 1868, ll. 1247-1274.)

1 Given (that is, in marriage) unnaturally. No wonder though she were afraid.

Havelok takes Goldburgh to Grimsby, and by the help of Grim's sons and another faithful friend, Ubbe, he recovers Denmark and puts the usurper

to a cruel death. Then he wins England from Earl Godrich, and he and Goldburgh live there happily, leaving Denmark to Ubbe. The story is told rapidly and well, and is doubtless founded on old English legend, the memory of which is still preserved in the ancient seal of Grimsby, which shows 'Gryem,' with sword and shield, and little figures of 'Habloc' and 'Goldeburgh' on either side of him.

King Horn is also a good story, not unlike Havelok, and well told; but it is less simple and more conventional. It has come down to us in three manuscripts, and whereas in two of these Horn's father is called King Murry, in the third his name is Allof. The 'Saracens' slay Allof; and though they will not kill Horn because of his beauty, they set him adrift in a boat with twelve companions. The boat carries them to Westernesse, and there Horn wins the love of Rymenhild, the king's daughter. His secret is betrayed to her father by his false friend Fikenhild, and he sets off in search of adventures, receiving from Rymenhild a magic ring. He returns, disguised as a pilgrim, just as Rymenhild is about to be married to a King Modi. Here is the scene when Horn makes himself known to her as she is offering wine to the guests:

Horn sat upon the grunde,
In thughte he was i-bunde,
He sede Quen, so hende,
To me-ward thu wende,
Thu gef us with the furste,
The beggeres beoth of thurste.'
Hure horn heo leide adun,
And fulde him of a brun,
His bolle of a galun,

bound, wrapped gentle

she

filled from a brown jug bowl that held a gallon she

For heo wende he were a glotoun,

He seide, 'Have this cuppe,

And this thing [?] ther uppe:
Ne sagh ihc nevre, so ihc wene,
Beggere that were so kene.'
Horn tok hit his ifere,
And sede 'Quen, so dere,
Wyn nelle ihc muche ne lite
Bute of cuppe white.

Thu wenest I beo a beggere,

And ihc am a fissere,
Wel feor i-come bi este

For fissen at thi feste;

Mi net lith her-bi-honde,

Bi a wel fair stronde,

Hit hath i-leie there

Fulle seve yere.
Ihc am i-come to loke
Ef eni fiss hit toke.

Ihc am i-come to fisse :

Drink to me of disse,
Drink to Horn of horne:
Feor ihc am i-orne.'
Rymenhilde him gan bihelde,
Hire heorte bigan to chelde,
Ne kneu heo noght his fissing,
Ne Horn hymselve nothing:
Ac wunder hire gan thinke,
Whi he bad to Horn drinke.

I

I

I will not

fisher

2

hard by

seven

dish, bowl

journeyed

grow cold

Miracle-Plays and the Cursor Mundi.

Reference has already been made (page 34) to the first miracle-plays acted in England. By the beginning of the fourteenth century a great change had come over these representations, but of the gradual stages by which it must have developed we know very little. The dramatic poem of the Harrowing of Hell, which is thought by some critics to be as early as the reign of Henry III., is the only extant remnant of this period when the plays had begun to be written in English, and were still of such a character that they might be acted in church. It contains some two hundred and forty lines, and begins with a prologue, whose openingAllé herkneth to me nou,

A strif wil I tellen you, Of Jesu and of Satan

makes it uncertain whether it should be regarded only as a poem intended for recitation or as really dramatic. But the speeches which follow, spoken by Christ and Satan, Hell's Porter, Adam, Eve, Abraham, David, John Baptist, and Moses, form a perfect little play; and their beauty and directness may be well illustrated by the opening colloquy, which is here given as printed in the appendix to English Miracle-Plays, Moralities, and Interludes, edited by A. W. Pollard, third ed. 1898:

Dominus. Hardė gatės have I gon,
Sorewes suffred mani on;
Thritti winter and thridde half yer
Have I woned in londe her.
Almost is so michel gan,
Sithen I bicam first man;

Ich have sithen tholed and wist
Hot and cold, hunger and thrist :
Man hath don me shame inoh.
With word and dede in here woh ;

ways

one

I

dwelt

much gone

suffered

thirst enough

evil