Illustrations of Shakspeare, and of Ancient Manners: / with Dissertations on the Clowns and Fools of Shakspeare; on a Collection of Popular Tales Entitled Gesta Romanorum; and on the English Morris dance.

Chap. lxviii.—An emperor in his old age foolishly married a young wife, who carried on an intrigue with a certain knight. He resolved to make a journey to the Holy Land, and, setting out immediately, left his kingdom in the custody of the empress and his nobles. The captain of the ship in which he embarked, having received a large bribe for the purpose, threw the unfortunate emperor into the sea, and returned home with the news of his death, to the great joy of the wicked empress. The old monarch, who had been a good swimmer from his youth, fortunately reached an island which he found inhabited only by wild beasts. The third day after his arrival, he saw in a wood a young lion fighting with a strong and full-grown leopard; and compassionating the lion, who was nearly overpowered by his adversary, he drew his sword and killed the leopard. The grateful lion remained with him, and every day brought him as food some animal that he had hunted, which the emperor dressed by means of a fire that he contrived to make. After some time had elapsed, as he was one day walking on the shore, he perceived a ship, and making signals of distress, was taken on board. The faithful lion plunged after him into the sea, and swam by the side of the vessel, till some of the sailors, perceiving that he was exhausted with fatigue and about to sink, lifted him into the ship. On the emperor's arrival in his own kingdom he handsomely rewarded the captain, and proceeded to his palace accompanied by the lion. When he arrived there, he heard the sound of musical instruments, and perceived other demonstrations of joy. On inquiry he learned that the empress had been just married, and that his subjects believed he had perished in his voyage to the Holy Land. He then applied to one of the domestics of the palace to report him to the new emperor as a minstrel newly arrived, and to request that he might be permitted to entertain him with the tricks of his lion. He was ordered to appear before the new sovereign; whom the lion no sooner beheld than he instantly tore him in pieces, and immediately afterwards the empress. The nobles, astonished at what they saw, were now preparing to make their escape, when the emperor discovered himself, and desired them to lay aside their fear, as the vengeance of God had been accomplished. After relating his adventures, he reassumed his government.

Chap. lxx.—Josias, a warlike king, was married to the king of Apulia's daughter, who had vowed she would unite herself to that man only who had obtained the victory in all his battles. Walking one day in his garden he saw it written in a star, that he should undertake as many wars for the love of Christ as he had for that of his lady, to whom he communicated the vision. She was extremely afflicted at the news, and threatened to destroy herself and the infant in her womb, but was comforted by her husband with a promise of returning as soon as he had conquered all the enemies of Christ. He then departed in company with Tirius, a valiant knight to whom he was attached, and they shortly arrived in Ethiopia. The king desired his friend to remain there, and subdue the country, whilst he should accomplish other conquests. Tirius requested of the king that he would send him occasional tidings of himself, and directions how to act in his absence. This was promised; and the knight received at the same time a ring from his master, as a pledge whereby to remember him. The king took his departure, and went to the Holy Land. In his absence a certain tyrant named Acharon, made war against Tirius; and finding it impossible to subdue him, accused him of treason to the king of Ethiopia, who deprived him of all his possessions, so that he became very poor and was obliged to beg his bread. Josias soon afterwards returned from the Holy Land to Ethiopia, in the character of a pilgrim, and by chance met Tirius, whom he immediately recognized, but remained himself unknown. He put many questions to his friend, who related to him his misfortunes, and added, that he was in daily expectation of the speedy return of his own sovereign, whose token he still preserved, and whom he described as the better half of his soul. Josias told him that he had travelled far on account of the love he also bore to the same person; that he was exceedingly fatigued, and requested of him to sit down that he might repose his head on his bosom. Tirius answered, that he would do this and much more for him. Whilst Josias was asleep, a white weasel issued from his mouth, and proceeding towards a mountain, walked round it. It then returned, and again entered the mouth of the king. Tirius wondered much at this, and when the king awoke was interrogated as to what he had seen. Josias, on being informed, said, "Let us go to the mountain, perhaps we may behold more wonders." On their coming to a hollow place in the mountain, they found a dragon lying dead, with a large quantity of gold in his belly, and a sharp sword, on which was inscribed, "By my power, and with the king's assistance, the knight Tirius shall once more possess his lands." Josias then discovered himself to his friend, who fell on the ground and kissed his feet. The king gave all the gold to Tirius, but reserved the sword for himself, and commanded the knight not to disclose who he was until they should have accomplished their purpose. Josias then proceeded in his pilgrim's habit to the king's palace, where he found the tyrant Acharon, and sat himself down before the largest table. The king inquired of him whence he came and what tidings he brought. The pilgrim answered, "I come from the Holy Land, where many persons recommend your soul to Christ for having despoiled a worthy knight of his lands on the lying accusation of a tyrant." Acharon then exclaimed, "Why hast thou uttered these things? I would thou wert able to defend thyself, that I might fight with thee." The pilgrim requested leave to accept the challenge, which the king granted, and promised that if he obtained the victory he should not only receive all the lost lands of the knight, but be made the second man in his kingdom. The day of battle was appointed, and the combatants respectively maintained the contest with considerable valour. At length Acharon, exhausted with fatigue, was about to yield, when he said to the pilgrim, "You are doubtless a generous adversary, I die with thirst; suffer me to go once to the river and drink." The pilgrim acquiesced on the like conditions for himself. When Acharon had quenched his thirst, his strength returned; he renewed the combat with vigour, and Josias, in his turn, sorely pressed, requested permission to drink. His treacherous enemy not only refused him, but compelled him to fight his way to the water, into which he plunged and assuaged his thirst. Having recovered his strength, the battle was continued till the evening; and when Acharon was once more about to yield the victory, the king parted the combatants, and appointed the next day to renew the battle. At night the king sent for the pilgrim, commended his valour, and desired his daughter to take him under her care, and provide him with all necessaries, that he might be able to maintain the combat on the following day. The damsel then led him to a chamber, bathed him,[138] prepared his supper, and afterwards placed him in a bed with four feet, so that it could be easily moved from place to place. In the mean time Acharon called together his four sons, all of them robust young men; told them of the danger his life would be in if he should renew the contest with the pilgrim on the ensuing day, and prevailed with them to seize him in his chamber whilst he slept, and throw him into the sea. It happened that a fisherman from his vessel perceived by the light of the moon the floating bed, and to his great astonishment a man lying upon it. Josias also awoke, and wondered much at seeing the stars over his head. The fisherman cried out to the king, and the king to him for assistance, telling him he was the person who had the day before been engaged in combat with the tyrant. The fisherman took him on board his vessel, and afterwards to his dwelling, where he was again put to bed. On the morrow Acharon armed himself and went to the palace, exclaiming aloud, "Bring forth the traitor pilgrim, that I may this day present his head to our lord the king." When the princess was ordered by her father to awake the pilgrim, she was astonished to find him gone, together with the bed; and when the king heard the strange news he was much grieved, for he loved the pilgrim, and detested the tyrant. The fisherman at length appeared and related what had happened. Josias returned to the palace, armed himself, once more attacked his adversary, who was by this time quite dejected, and cutting off his head, presented it to the king. He was then desired to name the reward that he wished for, when he requested that the lands which Tirius had acquired by his valour might be again restored to him. Josias afterwards took leave of his friend, returned to his own kingdom, and ended his days in peace.[139]

Chap. lxxi.—An emperor committed the education of his only son to one of his knights, who had obtained a victory at a tournament. The child was placed in a chamber, round which the seven liberal sciences were depicted, so that when he lay awake in bed he could be gathering all kinds of knowledge. Near the bed was a fountain, in which the child could bathe, and beyond the fountain a window to admit the sun. It happened that a bear, finding the door open, entered the chamber and washed himself in the fountain, so that the water was much infected with his filth. The knight and his wife soon afterwards drank of the fountain, and became leprous. An eagle also flew in at the window, and carried off the king's son. At length a skilful physician was consulted, who cured the parties of their leprosy, and instructed them how to recover the child.

Chap. lxxii.—A king hears the song of a nightingale. He is desirous of knowing what it means; and, applying to a wise knight, is informed that it directs him to seek three things, viz. joy without sorrow, abundance without want, and light without darkness. The king sets out in pursuit of them, and arrives in a kingdom where the sovereign was just dead, leaving his throne to his sister. She becomes enamoured of the royal traveller and offers him marriage. Here the story is discontinued, but the narrator refers to chap. iv. as containing the same matter.

Chap. lxxvii.—In the castle of an emperor was a fountain, the water of which had the property of curing drunkenness. To this vice, which the emperor particularly detested, one of his knights, named Ydronicus, was much addicted; but whenever he perceived the consequences of his intemperance, he repaired to the fountain, and drinking a hearty draught, recovered himself in such a manner that the emperor, who was extremely attached to him, had never yet discovered his failing. It happened that the emperor had found a bird in his forest which sang so sweetly, that, being fond of melody, he repaired daily to the spot to hear it. The particular attention which the emperor bestowed on these two favourites had excited the envy of his courtiers, among whom one wiser than the rest at length undertook their ruin. He first sealed up the fountain, so that when Ydronicus next became intoxicated he was deprived of his usual remedy; and the emperor, perceiving his condition, was filled with indignation, and instantly decreed his banishment. The insidious courtier then repaired to the forest; and watching attentively the motions of the bird, perceived that her mate often came to visit her, but that in his absence she committed infidelities with strange birds, and then bathing herself in an adjacent well, deceived her mate on his return. He therefore closed up the well, and the unfaithful bird being soon detected by her mate, he tore her to pieces. The latter part of this story seems borrowed from the last chapter of the original Gesta.

Chap. lxxviii.—A law was made at Rome, that no man should marry for beauty, but for riches only; and that no woman should be united to a poor man, unless he should by some means acquire wealth equal to her own. A certain poor knight solicited the hand of a rich lady, but she reminded him of the law, and desired him to use the best means of complying with it, in order to effect their union. He departed in great sorrow, and after much inquiry, was informed of a rich duke who had been blind from the day of his birth. Him he resolved to murder, and obtain his wealth; but found that he was protected in the day-time by several armed domestics, and at night by the vigilance of a faithful dog. He contrived however to kill the dog with an arrow, and immediately afterwards the master, with whose money he returned to the lady. He informed her that he had accomplished his purpose; and being interrogated how this had been done in so short a space of time, he related all that had happened. The lady desired, before the marriage should take place, that he would go to the spot where the duke was buried, lay himself on his tomb, listen to what he might hear, and then report it to her. The knight armed himself, and went accordingly. In the middle of the night he heard a voice saying, "O duke, that liest here, what asketh thou that I can do for thee?" The answer was, "O Jesus, thou upright judge, all that I require is vengeance for my blood unjustly spilt." The voice rejoined, "Thirty years from this time thy wish shall be fulfilled." The knight, extremely terrified, returned with the news to the lady. She reflected that thirty years were a long period, and resolved on the marriage. During the whole of the above time the parties remained in perfect happiness.

When the thirty years were nearly elapsed, the knight built a very strong castle, and over one of the gates, in a conspicuous place, caused the following verses to be written:

Interrogated as to the meaning of these enigmatical lines, the knight at once explained them by relating his own story, and added that in eight days time the thirty years would expire. He invited all his friends to a feast at that period; and when the day was arrived, the guests placed at table, and the minstrels attuning their instruments of music, a beautiful bird flew in at the window and began to sing with uncommon sweetness. The knight listened attentively, and said, "I fear this bird prognosticates misfortune." He then took his bow, and shot an arrow into it in the presence of all the company. Instantly the castle divided in two parts, and, with the knight, his wife, and all who were in it, was precipitated to the lowest depth of the infernal regions. The story adds, that on the spot where the castle stood, there is now a spacious lake, on which no substance whatever floats, but is immediately plunged to the bottom.

Chap. lxxix.—The emperor Miremius had an only son, on whose birth the wise men being consulted as to his future destiny, declared that he would not live except he were brought up for seven years under ground, where the light of the sun could never come. This was accordingly done; and at the expiration of the time the young prince was taken out of his subterraneous confinement, and became the admiration of all men for his virtues and good disposition. In due time he was married to a daughter of the king of Hungary. At each corner of the nuptial bed was placed a little dog to watch, and near it a burning lamp, which by the emperor's special command was to be lighted only by the hands of a pure virgin. The prince coming one night into the chamber found the lamp extinguished, and made a solemn vow that he would never more enter the bed until the lamp were rekindled; but after many inquiries no virgin could be found for the purpose. The prince determined to make search himself, and taking affectionate leave of his wife, proceeded on his expedition. He presently overtook a lion, whose foot had been wounded by a thorn, which he extracted, and the animal followed him. Arriving at the castle of a king who had a virgin daughter, the prince fell in love with and demanded her in marriage. The king consented, on condition that he would destroy a horrible dragon, who had nearly devoured all the sheep and oxen in the country, and for whose future supply it would soon be necessary to draw lots in the king's own family. The prince agreed to the proposal, and waited till the period arrived when the lot had fallen on the king's daughter. He then became exceedingly terrified, but ventured to attack the dragon, who was on the point of destroying him, when the lion came to his assistance, and speedily killed his adversary. The virgin was delivered to the prince, who took her home to his wife. The lamp was rekindled, to the great joy of the parties, and the virgin treated with all possible kindness and attention. The dog and the lamp in this story are introduced in chap. i. of the other Gesta, but the tales have nothing else in common.

Chap. lxxx.—There was a law at Rome, that every woman at her purification should write some words on the church door, for the edification of the people, and then return home with due solemnity. The empress on this occasion writes, "I am a king governing the age; all the world is mine." Some time afterwards a noble lady attended by several musicians comes to be purified. She inscribes on the door, "I am an infant at the breast whose milk is wine," and returns home to prepare a feast. The empress is much offended, and sends for her. She procures two serpents, and compels the lady to suckle them, &c. The substance of this story is incorporated with the old ballad of "A warning piece to England, or the fall of queen Eleanor."[140]

Chap. lxxxi.—A city is infested with dragons and other venomous animals that destroy the inhabitants. A philosopher advises the emperor to hang a live lion on a cross, and thus terrify the other creatures from molesting the city.

Chap. lxxxii.—A law was made, that if any one could escape from prison and fly to the king's palace he should receive protection. An imprisoned knight is visited by a bird, who leaves a precious stone, by the touch of which his fetters are loosed and he escapes, &c.

Chap. lxxxiv.—A dispute arose between the three sons of an emperor respecting the succession. The nobles decided that they should run a race on horseback, and that he whose horse neighed should inherit the throne. A cunning servant of one of the princes contrived that his master should win, by placing in the horse's way a mare that he remembered. This is the well-known story of Darius.

Chap. xc.—Of a law that whoever violated a virgin without making atonement to her father within a certain time should suffer death.

Chap. xcii.—Of a madman who tore his flesh every day, and was poisoned by his father.

Chap. xciii.—An empress falls in love with a young knight; and becoming extremely sick, the physicians inform her husband that there is no mode of cure, but the bathing her with the knight's blood.

Chap. xciv.—A poor man is promoted by an emperor to great honours, but soon becomes proud, and rebels against his sovereign. He is banished with his accomplices. These invite their successors to a poisoned banquet. The emperor is recommended by his son to apply to a damsel who possesses a well with miraculous powers. By means of its water the dead men are restored to life. The prince is rewarded with a crown of gold.

Chap. xcvii.—Jonathas, having contrived to keep fire and water in his house, at a time when his fellow citizens had been plundered of them by a tyrant named Eulopius, is rewarded by having the education of the emperor of Rome's son committed to him. He builds a chamber for the young prince, and causes various images and inscriptions to be placed in it, which keep him attentive to his charge. He is finally promoted to great honour.

Chap. xcviii.—The emperor Martin had brought up his nephew Fulgentius as his page and cup-bearer; but his steward soon became envious of the young man, and resolved to effect his ruin. For this purpose he prevailed on the emperor to believe that Fulgentius had ungratefully circulated many ill reports of him, and particularly that he was leprous to such a degree that it was unsafe to approach his person or administer his drink to him. He then went to the young man, related to him that the emperor had made great complaint of the foulness of his breath, and advised him, when he performed the duties of his office, to take special care to turn his head aside. The innocent Fulgentius pursued this insidious counsel, and, the emperor's anger being excited, he struck his nephew violently on the breast, and drove him from his presence. He then consulted with the steward how he should deprive the youth of life; and it was settled that some men who lived near at hand, and kept a furnace to burn stones for cement, should immediately be directed to throw into their fire, without the least ceremony, that person who should come early on the morrow, and desire them to fulfil the emperor's commands. Measures were then taken that Fulgentius should be the victim; but in his progress to the lime-kiln he was induced by the sound of a church bell to deviate from his road, and attend the celebration of the mass. During the service he fell asleep, and when it was finished no efforts of the priest could for a very considerable time awake him. In the meanwhile the steward, solicitous to hear of the young man's death, repaired to the spot, and inquiring if the emperor's commands had been executed, was seized by the workmen, who, in spite of all his entreaties and remonstrances, threw him into the furnace. Fulgentius himself soon afterwards arrived, delivered his message, and was surprised to hear of the steward's death, and the miraculous manner in which he himself had escaped. He then returned thanks to God for his preservation, and went back to the palace. The emperor in great anger demanded why he had not executed his commands. Fulgentius related what had happened, and this leading to a mutual explanation, he was restored to his uncle's favour, and ended his days honourably. This story may have come from the East.[141] It is likewise extremely well related in the Contes devots or Miracles of the Virgin,[142] and in other places.[143]

Chap. xcix.—A marriage was proposed between the son of Anselmus, emperor of Rome, and the daughter of the king of Apulia. The young lady in her voyage was shipwrecked and swallowed by a whale. In this situation she contrived to make a fire and to wound the animal with a knife, so that he was driven towards the shore, and slain by an earl named Pirius, who delivered the princess and took her under his protection. On relating her story she was conveyed to the emperor. In order to prove whether she was worthy to receive the hand of his son, he placed before her three vessels. The first was of gold, and filled with dead men's bones; on it was this inscription; who chuses me shall find what he deserves. The second was of silver filled with earth, and thus inscribed; who chuses me shall find what nature covets. The third vessel was of lead, but filled with precious stones. It had this inscription; who chuses me shall find what God hath placed. The emperor then commanded her to chuse one of the vessels, informing her that if she made choice of that which should profit herself and others, she would obtain his son; if of what should profit neither herself nor others, she would lose him. The princess after praying to God for assistance, preferred the leaden vessel. The emperor informed her that she had chosen as he wished, and immediately united her with his son. This is obviously the story which had supplied the caskets in the Merchant of Venice. See the note at the end of that play, p. 169.

Chap. c.—A king hunting in a forest loses his attendants, and is left alone. He meets a lame lion, who stretches out his foot to him, as if soliciting assistance. The king, perceiving a thorn, extracts it, and binds up the wound with certain herbs. Finding no way out of the wood, he is obliged to take shelter in the lion's den, where he is supplied with food by the grateful animal. After remaining here some time a bear comes to the den. The rest of the story will not admit of being told. What has been stated is evidently grafted on the well-known tale of Androcles.

Chap. ci.—A certain emperor made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, leaving the care of the kingdom in his absence to his wife, a wise and beautiful woman. The emperor's brother not only oppressed and persecuted many of his subjects, but had even the temerity to make unlawful love to the empress. On consulting with her counsellors, they advised her to cast him into prison, which was accordingly done. Here he lay until rumours were spread of the emperor's intended return; and fearing that if his unworthy conduct were reported to his brother he should be sentenced to die, he entreated mercy of the empress, and made such solemn promises of future good behaviour that she consented to release him. On the emperor's arrival, his wife and brother went out to meet him; but in passing through a forest, a stag springing up, diverted the attention of the domestics who accompanied them, and they were left entirely by themselves. The wicked brother now renewed his solicitations to the empress; but receiving from her the most positive refusal of compliance, and menaced with the vengeance of her husband, he inhumanly tied her by the hair to a tree, leaving her palfrey by the side of her. He then rejoined the attendants, and pretended that a multitude of armed men had attacked him and carried off the empress. Shortly afterwards the unfortunate lady was discovered by an earl who was hunting in the forest, taken home to his castle, and by her own consent appointed to superintend the care of his infant daughter. Here a certain seneschal fell in love with her, but his addresses being rejected, he determined on speedy revenge. For this purpose he contrived to get into the castle at night, and proceeding to the earl's chamber, found the empress in bed and asleep with the child. After murdering the infant, he placed the bloody knife in the empress's hand. During the night the earl's wife awoke, and perceiving by the light of the lamp what had happened, accused the empress of the murder in the most bitter terms, and entreated her husband to inflict immediate punishment. The earl, however, thought fit to spare the empress's life, and contented himself with dismissing her from his castle. The poor lady mounted her palfrey, and had not proceeded far, when she met a robber going to execution. Her compassion led her to ransom the man by means of a sum of money; and, depending on his gratitude, she sent him before her to the next city to provide lodging and other necessaries. All the inhabitants of the place admired her beauty, and many persons in vain solicited her love. It happened that a ship arrived in the harbour of this city laden with merchandize, and the empress despatched her servant to the captain, requesting him to attend her for the purpose of negociating for the articles she might want. The captain came, received her orders, and promised to send the goods; but he was also captivated with the beauty of the empress, and desired her servant to follow him. He then offered the man a large reward to assist him in getting his mistress on board the vessel, that he might thus have her in his power, and carry her away. The fellow consented; and, telling his lady that the captain would only permit his merchandize to be examined on board the ship, prevailed on her to accompany him thither, and she immediately became a prisoner. The vessel sailed, the commander earnestly pressed his unlawful solicitations, and threatened death in case of refusal. The empress requested a short respite, and addressed her prayers to heaven for assistance. A tempest instantly arose, the ship sunk to the bottom, and all perished except the empress and the captain. Each of them had clung to a piece of timber, but they were cast on different shores; and the empress, without her knowledge, on that of her own country. Here she soon found shelter in a convent, and applying herself to the study of healing the sick, soon became so skilful that her fame spread throughout the land. About this time the emperor's wicked brother had become a loathsome leper; the earl whose daughter had been killed was blind and paralytic; the treacherous servant became lame and gouty, and otherwise diseased; and the master of the ship had lost his reason. When the emperor heard of the lady's skill in curing diseases, he accompanied his brother to the convent, where the others had also come to be healed. The empress, preserving her disguise, informed them that she had no power of relieving them unless they previously, and in the presence of each other, made a fall and solemn confession of their sins, and repented of them sincerely. This was accordingly done; and when the innocence of the empress was clearly manifested, to the great and mutual surprise of all the parties, she first performed her promise to the sick, and then discovered herself to the emperor. He conducted her to the palace with much joy, and they finished their days happily.

Occleve has related this story in verse from the present work,[144] and it is also to be found in the Patrañas of Timoneda.[145] The outline has been borrowed from one of the Contes devots, or miracles of the Virgin Mary.[146] The incident of the bloody knife occurs likewise in Chaucer's Man of law's tale, and in a story related by Gower.[147]

The author of this Gesta has been nowhere recorded; but it may be necessary on this occasion to lay before the reader part of a note prefixed to the Merchant of Venice, in which Dr. Farmer has corrected one mistake, but inadvertently fallen into another. He says, "In a MS. of Lidgate, I find a tale of two marchants of Egipt and of Baldad, ex Gestis Romanorum. Leland therefore could not be the original author as Bishop Tanner suspected. He lived a century after Lidgate." The inference is perfectly just; but the suspicion was not Bishop Tanner's, who has only retailed that of another writer, Richard Robinson, and he in reality seems to have regarded Leland merely as a translator, as will presently appear.[148] Dr. Farmer had been deceived by the mode of printing Robinson's words, which have much the appearance of belonging to the bishop. There would have been more probability in a conjecture that either Walleis or Bromyard might have been the fabricator of the English Gesta. The moralizations to Ovid's metamorphoses, which the former of these persons composed, adapt him extremely well to the purpose; but though the date of his existence is, on the whole, uncertain, he seems to have lived about half a century too early, viz. towards the beginning of the fourteenth century.[149] From what has already been said of Bromyard, it will appear that he was no less qualified than the other for the authorship of the work in question.

Translation.—As this work was not circulated in foreign countries, no translation of it appears to have been made in any other language than the English; and in that, not of the whole. There is a very fine manuscript in the Harleian collection, written in the reign of Henry the Sixth, containing seventy stories only.[150] In this manuscript are several pieces by Lydgate, and some tales from Gower's Confessio amantis. As the English Gesta appears to have been extremely well known to both these writers, and also to Occleve, it is by no means improbable that the above translation was made by one or the other of them. Whether it has ever been printed is another question. Mr. Warton has twice mentioned an addition without date by Wynkyn de Worde;[151] and Dr. Farmer has also, in a note prefixed to the Merchant of Venice, referred to the same edition. It had escaped the researches of the industrious Herbert, who has only mentioned it after Mr. Warton,[152] and has in vain been sought for on the present occasion. The fortunate possessor of it may have the means of ascertaining whether it be the same as the above manuscript, by referring to the stories that have been given in the present volume at the end of the remarks on the plays of King Lear, and the Merchant of Venice.

Among the manuscripts in the Royal Library, now in the British Museum, there is one entitled "Eupolemia; Archippus and Panoplia; that ys to say. His good warrfare agenst Satan and his malignant spirites; his good soldyer agenst the flesh, the lustes and concupiscences therof: And his complet harness agenst the worlde and the wickednes and wretchednes therof. Conteyning a true catalogue of all his pore paynefull laboures, translated, collected, allso printed and published and præsented in English, by authority. Shewyng allso what good Benifactors hee hathe had, for meyntenance of his sayde pore study and peine, and what hynderances hee hathe had othirwyse from the yeare of oure Savyour Christe 1576, untill this yeare 1602, for 26 yeares. Newly written oute to the glory of God, honour of the Queenes most excellent Majesty, comfort of the faythfull and convertion or subvertion of their enemyes. By R. Robinson, London." This strange work has a great number of scriptural quotations in Latin and English, in the several margins. The dedication is here given for its singularity. "Sacrosanctæ beatæque Trinitati, simulque serenissimæ ac pientiss. regis majestati sacrum. Pro relevio professionis Christianæ ac remedio oppressionis inhumanæ. Cum impressione presentis codicilli." Then follows a dedication to Queen Elizabeth, made up of scraps from the sacred writings, and from Tibullus, Ovid and Juvenal; next, another to King James, entirely scriptural and in Latin verse. Afterwards we have a list of the author's works, which he divides into three columns, the first containing their titles, the second the allowance and printing, and the third patrons and benevolences. Among these is the following: "1577. A record of ancyent historyes intituled in Latin Gesta Romanorum, translated (auctore ut supponitur Johane Leylando antiquario) by mee perused corrected and bettered. Perused further by the wardens of the stationers and printed first and last by Thomas Easte in Aldersgate streete 6 tymes to this yeare 1601,[153] cont. 21 shetes. Dedicated for 5 impressions to the R. honorable Lady Margaret Countess of Lyneux, who gave me for her booke 13s. 4d. besydes sale of 25 boks. Dedicated last to the wardens of the Lether sellers,[154] who with others have given mee xxs. Dedicated last of all anno 1602 to D. Watson B. of Chichester and B. Almoner to the Queenes Majesty who, (not so thankfull to mee as I deserved) gave me but ijs. for my booke dedicatory."[155] If Leland made any translation of the Gesta, it must have been that printed by Wynkyn de Worde, which Robinson perhaps alludes to, when he says that he had perused bettered and corrected the work; for it is very clear that the older translation in the Harleian manuscript was not known to him.

Manuscripts.—Of these many are still remaining. They are, in general, written during the reigns of the Fifth and Sixth Henries, though one or two appear to be as old as that of Richard the Second. As the work was a great favourite, many of the stories are found in some of those miscellaneous volumes, which, in all probability, constituted the private libraries of the monks. If these were carefully examined, there is no doubt that many might be added to the following, necessarily imperfect, list:—

Printed Editions.—It has been already stated that the Latin copy of this work has never been printed. The following are all translations into English, No. 1 may be that ascribed to Leland; the rest are by Robinson.