"Rattes and myce and such smal dere
Was his meate that seven yere;"

a distich which the supposed madman in Lear has thus, almost verbally, adopted:—

"But mice, and rats, and such small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year."[566:A]

Dr. Percy has observed that Shakspeare had doubtless often heard this metrical romance sung to the harp[566:B]; the popularity of these legends, indeed, was such that, towards the end of Elizabeth's reign, most of them were converted into prose, a degradation which befel Sir Bevis, Sir Guy of Warwick, and many others of equal celebrity. To this last romance Shakspeare has an allusion in his King John, where the bastard speaks of

"Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man,"[566:C]

the defeat of this Danish Goliah, in single combat, by Sir Guy, being one of the leading features of the story.

It is highly probable, that the achievement ascribed to King Richard, in this play, of tearing out the lion's heart[566:D], was immediately derived from a copy of the old metrical romance in the poet's library. It is true that the chronicles of Fabian and Rastall have detailed this fiction, and there is no doubt, from the same authority; but the metrical legend of Richard Cœur de Lion being one of the most popular of the Anglo-Norman romances, and having been thrice printed, twice by W. De Worde, and once by Will. Copland, there is much reason to conclude that an acknowledged lover, and collector, of this branch of literature would prefer taking his imagery from the poem itself, more especially if it rested upon his shelves.

It appears from this romance, that Richard not only tore out the heart of the lion, but, dipping it in salt, eat it before the eyes of the astonished king of Almain, a feat which instantly drew from His Majesty the peculiar appellation which designates the tale:—

"Yevis, as I understand can,
This is a devil, and no man,
That has my strong lion y-slawe,
The heart out of his body drawe,
And has it eaten with good will!
He may be called, by right skill,
King y-christened of most renown,
Strong Richard Cœur de Lion!"[567:A]

The play of Henry the Fifth furnishes a reference to the fifth article in Laneham's catalogue of the Coxean collection. Fluellen compelling Pistol to eat his leek, tells him,—"You called me yesterday, mountain-squire; but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree."[567:B]

This romance, which was licensed to John Kynge on the tenth of June 1560[567:C], and printed by William Copland before 1570[567:D], was one of the most popular of the sixteenth century, and possesses some striking traits of manners, and several very curious poetical sketches. It is twice alluded to by Spenser[567:E] in his Faerie Queene, and has been supposed, though probably without sufficient foundation, to have existed in manuscript anterior to the age of Chaucer.[567:F]

There are some scenes in Shakspeare which appear to have been originally derived from Oriental fable. Thus, in Twelfth Night, the leading ideas of Malvolio's soliloquy (act ii. sc. 5.), bear a strong resemblance, as Mr. Tyrrwhitt observes, to those of Alnaschar, in The Arabian Nights Entertainments; an observation which has drawn from Mr. Steevens the following curious and pertinent note:—

"Many Arabian fictions had found their way into obscure Latin and French books, and from thence into English ones, long before any professed version of The Arabian Nights Entertainments had appeared. I meet with a story similar to that of Alnaschar, in The Dialoge of Creatures Moralysed, bl. l. no date, but probably printed abroad: 'It is but foly to hope to moche of vanyteys. Whereof it is told in fablis that a lady uppon a tyme delyuered to her mayden a galon of mylke to sell at a cite. And by the waye as she sate and restid her by a dyche side, she began to thinke yt with ye money of the mylke she wolde bye an henne, the which shulde bring forth chekyns, and when they were grownyn to hennys she wolde sell them and by piggis, and eschaunge them into shepe, and the shepe into oxen; and so whan she was come to richnesse she sholde be married right worshipfully unto some worthy man, and thus she rejoycid. And when she was thus marvelously comfortid, and ravished inwardely in her secrete solace thinkynge with howe great joye she shuld be ledde towarde the churche with her husbond on horsebacke, she sayde to her self, Goo wee, goo wee, sodaynelye she smote the grounde with her fote, myndynge to spurre the horse; but her fote slypped and she fell in the dyche, and there laye all her mylke; and so she was farre from her purpose, and never had that she hopid to have. Dial. 100, LL. ij b."[568:A]

We may also refer the Induction to the Taming of the Shrew to the same source, to The Sleeper awakened, in the Arabian Nights, a tale which seems to have crept from its oriental fountain through every modern European language. Its earliest appearance in English that can now be traced, is derived from the information of Mr. Warton, who informs us that his friend Mr. Collins, the celebrated lyric poet, had in his possession a collection of short comic stories in prose, "sett forth by maister Richard Edwards, mayster of her Majesties revels," and with the date of 1570. This book, which was printed in the black letter, contained the story of the Induction, and was, there is little doubt, the source whence Shakspeare and the author of the elder Taming of the Shrew drew their outline.[569:A] A similar tale is the subject of a ballad in the Pepysian collection, which has been published by Percy[569:B], and it is to be found also in Sir Richard Barckley's Discourse on the Felicitie of Man, 1598, in Goulart's Admirable and Memorable Histories, translated by E. Grimstone, 1607; in Burton's Anatomie of Melancholy, 1615; in The Apothegms of King James, King Charles, the Marquis of Worcester, &c. 1658, and in Winstanley's Historical Rarities, 1684.[569:C] Some of the Arabian Tales and some of the Fables of Pilpay may be traced in The Seven Wise Masters, and in the English Gesta Romanorum.

To romances of Italian origin and structure, such as were exhibited in English versions often mutilated and incorrect, our author's obligations are so numerous, particularly with regard to the formation of plot, that, referring to a future consideration of each play for further illustration on these subjects, we shall only remark in this place, that many of the faults which have been ascribed to Shakspeare's want of judgment in the conduct of his dramas, are attributable to the necessity he was under, either from want of power or want of time, of applying to versions and imitations in lieu of the originals; a species of accommodation which frequently led him to adopt the mistakes of a wretched translation, when a reference to the Italian would immediately have induced a better choice. This will account for many of the charges which Mrs. Lennox has brought against the poet, in respect to deficiency of skill in the arrangement of his incidents.[569:D]

The First Part of King Henry the Fourth presents us with an allusion to one of those Spanish romances which became so popular towards the close of Elizabeth's reign. Falstaff, in answer to the Prince, who had told him, that he saw no reason why he should "be so superfluous to demand the time of the day," replies, "Indeed, you come near me now, Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phœbus,—he, that wandering knight so fair."[570:A]

The romance to which this passage stands indebted, is entitled, in the best and most complete edition, "Espeio de Principes, y Cavalleros. En el qual se cuentan los immortales hechos de Cavallero del Febo," &c. &c., four parts, folio, and is the subject of the Barber's eulogium in Don Quixote. "He (the Don) had frequent disputes with the priest of his village, who was a learned person, and had taken his degrees in Ciguenza, which of the two was the better knight, Palmerin of England, or Amadis de Gaul. But master Nicholas, barber-surgeon of the same town, affirmed, that none ever came up to the Knight of the Sun."[570:B]

This production, the first part of which was translated into English, under the title of The Myrrour of Knighthood, was well known in Shakspeare's time; the second part of the first book having been printed in the black letter, by Thomas Este, in 1585.[570:C] The whole occupies three volumes in 4to., and in it the Knight of the Sun is represented not only as "most excellently faire," but as a prodigious wanderer; so that Falstaff, who, by an easy association, digresses from Phœbus to this solar knight-errant, has very compendiously combined his characteristics.

It is probable that the celebrated passage in Hamlet's soliloquy, where the prince speaks of

"The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns,"[571:A]

may have been founded on a similar idea in the Spanish romance entitled Palmerin d'Oliva. The translation of Palmerin was first printed in 1588, and in Part II. chap. 3. the reader must be struck with the following words,—"before he took his journey wherein no creature returneth agaie." Now, as Hamlet, according to the chronological arrangement of Mr. Malone, was not written until 1596, and Palmerin d'Oliva may certainly be reckoned among the most fashionable romances of its day, the conjecture is entitled to attention. It is necessary, however, to add, that we are altogether indebted for it to a learned and ingenious correspondent in the British Bibliographer, whose initial signature is W. and whose acquaintance with romantic lore appears to be equally accurate and profound.[571:B]

To this gentleman we are under further obligation for the confirmation of a supposition made by Mr. Douce, who, commenting on this part of Hamlet's soliloquy, refers it to a passage in the History of Valentine and Orson, and adds,—"It is probable that there was an edition of Valentine and Orson in Shakspeare's time, though none such is supposed now to remain."[571:C]

Such an edition, it appears, is in the possession of the correspondent of Sir Egerton Brydges, who has given us a description of it, together with the following title, as drawn from the colophon:—"The historie of the two valyante brethren Valentyne and Orson, sônes vn to the Emperour of Græce. Imprinted at London over a gaynst St. Margaretes Churche in Lothbery be William Coplande." Small 4to. b. l. sig. I. i. 5. wood-cuts.[572:A] The antiquity of this copy, though without date, is ascertained by the circumstance, that Will. Copland, the printer, died between the years 1568 and 1569; and there is even reason to suppose, that this is but a re-impression, for, after the table of contents, a short note states, "Here endeth the table newly correcte."[572:B]

The reference of Mr. Douce is to page 63 of the edition of 1694, in which occurs a sentence which undoubtedly bears a striking resemblance to the lines of Shakspeare:—"I shall send some of you here present into such a country, that you shall scarcely ever return again to bring tydings of your valour."[572:C]

That our great poet was as well versed in the pages of Valentine and Orson, as have been the school-boys of this country for the last century, is our firm belief. "It would be difficult," says the possessor of Copland's edition, "to find a reader of the present day, who had not in the hour of childhood voted a portion of his scanty stipend to the purchase of 'Valentine and Orson,' and withdrawn for a few hours from more laborious exercises, or amusements, to peruse its fascinating pages;" and equally difficult would it have been, in Shakspeare's days, to have found a person of liberal education, who had not devoted a portion of his leisure to the perusal of this simple but energetic romance.

From the numerous corresponding passages, however, cited by our author's commentators, from the period of Catullus to the seventeenth century, it would seem that the idea, and even the terms in which it has been expressed, may be considered as a kind of common property, and consequently rather a mark of coincidence than imitation.

Of the Arcadia of Sir Philip Sidney, the best pastoral romance, and one of the most popular books of its age, we cannot be surprised that Shakspeare should have been an ardent admirer, and that occasionally he should have been indebted to it for an incident or an image. The first scene of the fourth act, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona, in which Valentine accepts the captainship of a band of outlaws, appears to be founded on that part of the Arcadia where Pyrocles, released from prison by the Helots, consents to be their leader and captain.[573:A]

More certainly is the episode of Gloster and his sons, in King Lear, derived from the same work, the first edition of which, published in 1590, being divided into chapters, exhibits one with this title:—"The pitifull state and storie of the Paphlagonian unkinde king, and his kinde sonne: first related by the sonne, then by the blind father." The subsequent editions omit the divisions into chapters, and in the copy before us, which is the seventh impression, the story commences at page 132, being part of the second book. As no other source for this narrative than the Arcadia, has hitherto been traced, and as the similarity of incident is considerable, there can be little doubt but that this portion of King Lear must confess its obligation to the romance.

The appellation, also, given to Cupid, in a passage in Much Ado about Nothing, is evidently to be referred to a line in the Arcadia. Don Pedro, speaking of Benedict, says, "he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bow-string, and the little hangman dare not shoot at him."[573:B] It has been conjectured, that the word in Italics should be hench-man, a page or attendant; but to decide the question it is only necessary to quote the words of Sidney:—

"Millions of yeares this old drivell Cupid lives;
While still more wretch, more wicked he doth prove:
Till now at length that Jove him office gives,
At Juno's suite, who much did Argus love,
In this our world a hangman for to be
Of all those fooles that will have all they see."[573:C]

If, from this catalogue of allusions, our author's intimacy with the romances of his age, may be considered as proved, his familiarity with the ballads and songs of the same period will not be deemed less extensive, or less admitting of demonstration. Throughout his dramas, indeed, a peculiar partiality for these popular little pieces is very manifest; he delights to quote them, wherever he can find a place for their introduction, and his own efforts in this line of poetry are often of the utmost simplicity and beauty.

How strongly he felt this predilection for the strains of our elder minstrelsy, and how exquisitely he has expressed his attachment to them, must be in the recollection of all who have ever read, or seen performed, his admirable comedy of the Twelfth Night, in which the Duke exclaims,—

"Give me some musick:—but that piece of song,
That old and antique song we heard last night,
Methought it did relieve my passion much;
More than light airs and recollected terms,
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:—
Mark it, Cæsario; it is old, and plain:
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,
And the free maids, that weave their thread with bones,
Do use to chaunt it; it is silly sooth,
And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old age."[574:A]

Before we notice, however, the ballads which Shakspeare has quoted, or to which he has alluded, it will be satisfactory, if, to the articles specified in Captain Cox's "Bunch of Ballets and Songs," we add a few more of similar popularity, and from a source equally rare and authentic. In the British Bibliographer, Mr. Haslewood has given us a description of the fragment of a tract in his possession, entitled The World's Folly, printed, as he concludes, from the type, before 1600, and from which, "as every allusion," he justly observes, "to our early ballads is interesting," he has obliged his readers with some very curious quotations. "The author," he remarks, "appears to describe the purgatory of Folly. He wanders from room to room, and to each new character assigns a ballad, that may be presumed was distinguished for popularity. A man, whose credit had decayed by trusting servants, and had commenced botcher, 'had standing by him, for meate and drinke, a pot of strong ale, which was often at his nose, that it kept his face in so good a colour, and his braine in so kinde a heate, as forgetting part of his forepassed pride, in the good humour of grieving patience, made him with a hemming sigh, ilfavourdly singe the ballad of Whilom I was: to the tune of Tom Tinker.' An old man, shaking with palsy, who, 'having beene a man of some possessions, and with too fat feeding of horses, too high keeping of hawkes, and too much delighting in banquetinges, through lacke of husbandrie, was forced to leave himself without lande; . . . after many a deepe sighe, with a hollow voice, in a solemne tune, with a heavie hearte fell to sing the song of Oken leaves began wither: to the tune of Heavilie, heavilie.' A dapper fellow that in his youth had spent more than he got on his person, 'fell to singe the ballad of the blinde beggar: to the tune of Heigh ho.' The general lover, having no further credit with beauty, 'howled out the dittie of When I was faire and young: to the tune of Fortune. The next is whimsically described as 'one that was once a virgin, had beene a little while a mayde, knew the name of a wife, fell to be a widdow,' and finally a procuress; 'she would sing the Lamentation of a sinner: to the tune of Welladaye.' A decayed prostitute, who had become laundress to the house, 'stood singing the ballet of All a greene willowe: to the famous tune of Ding Dong.' A man with good personage, with a froward wife, 'hummed out the balled of the breeches: to the tune of Never, never.' His termagant spouse drewe from her pocket 'a ballad of the tinker's wife that beate her husbande.' To the last character in the fragment is also given Raleigh's ballad. He was 'one that had beene in love, sat looking on his mistresse picture, making such a legge to it, writing such verses in honour to it, and committing such idolatrie with it, that poore man, I pittied him: and in his behalfe sorrowed to see how the Foole did handle him: but there sat he, hanging his head, lifting up the eyes, and with a deepe sigh, singing the ballad of Come live with me and be my love: to the tune of adieu my deere.'"[576:A]

It is, notwithstanding, to the dramas of our poet, that we must look for more copious intimations relative to the ballad-poetry of the sixteenth century, and of the first ten years of the reign of James the First. The list which we shall collect from his works, in the order in which they are usually published, will sufficiently evince his love for these productions, and, at the same time, afford a pretty accurate enumeration of those which were esteemed the most popular of his age.

Yet, in forming this catalogue of Shakspearean ballads and songs, it may be necessary to premise, that it is not our intention to comment on the original pieces of our author in this branch of poetry, which will fall under consideration in a subsequent chapter; but merely to confine our notices to his quotations from and allusions to the minstrel strains of others. We commence, therefore, with the ballad of Queen Dido, which the poet had no doubt in view, when he represents Gonzalo in the Tempest so familiar with her name and history.[576:B] That this was a favourite song with the common people appears from a passage in a scarce pamphlet quoted by Mr. Ritson, and published in 1604. "O you ale-knights, you that devoure the marrow of the mault, and drinke whole ale-tubs into consumptions; that sing Queen Dido over a cupp, and tell strange newes over an ale-pot."[576:C] Dr. Percy, who has published a correct copy of this old ballad from his folio MS. collated with two different printed copies, both in black letter, in the Pepysian collection, terms it "excellent;" an epithet justly merited, for, though blended with the manners of a Gothic age, it is certainly both pathetic and interesting.

Mrs. Ford, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, speaking of Falstaff's proposals, says, that his disposition and his words "do no more adhere and keep place together than the hundredth psalm to the tune of Green Sleeves."[577:A] This seems to have been a very popular song about 1580, for it is licensed several times during this year, and entered on the books of the Stationers' Company, under the titles of "A newe northerne dittye of the Lady Green Sleeves," and "A new Northern Song of Green Sleeves, beginning

"The bonniest lass in all the land."

It is mentioned by Beaumont and Fletcher in The Loyal Subject, but is supposed to be now no longer extant.

In the same play, Falstaff alludes to another old song, which was entitled Fortune my foe[577:B], enumerating all the misfortunes incident to mankind through the instability of fortune. Of this ballad, which is mentioned by Brewer in his Lingua[577:C], twice by Beaumont and Fletcher[577:D], and by Burton in his Anatomy of Melancholy[577:E], the tune is said to be the identical air now known by the song of "Death and the Lady;" and the first stanza, observes Mr. Malone, was as follows:—

"Fortune, my foe, why dost thou frown on me?
And will my fortune never better be?
Wilt thou, I say, for ever breed my pain,
And wilt thou not restore my joys again?"[577:F]

Sir Hugh Evans, in the first scene of the third act of this[577:G] play, quotes, though from his trepidation very inaccurately, four lines from two of the most popular little madrigals at the close of the sixteenth century, entitled The Passionate Shepherd to His Love, and The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd; the first written by Christopher Marlow, and the second by Sir Walter Raleigh. These had been attributed, however, to Shakspeare, in consequence of their being included in a copy of his smaller poems printed by William Jaggard in 1599. This edition being published during the life-time of the poet, gave currency to the ascription; but in the year following Marlow's poem appeared in England's Helicon, with his name annexed, and Raleigh's with his usual signature of Ignoto[578:A]; and Isaac Walton, in the first edition of his Compleat Angler, printed in 1653, has attributed these pieces to the same authors, describing them as "that smooth song, which was made by Kit Marlow, now at least fifty years ago; and—an Answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days—old fashioned poetry," he adds, "but choicely good; I think much better then the strong lines that are now in fashion in this critical age."[578:B] Had Marlow written nothing but this beautiful song, he would yet have descended to posterity as an excellent poet; the imitations of it have been numerous.

The Twelfth Night presents us with a variety of fragments of ballads, songs, and catches; Sir Andrew Ague-cheek calls for the catch of Thou Knave, of which the words and musical notes are given by Sir J. Hawkins[578:C]; Sir Toby compares Olivia to Peg-a Ramsay, a licentious song mentioned by Nash among several other ballads, such as Rogero, Basilino, Turkelony, All the Flowers of the Broom, Pepper is black, Green Sleeves, Peggie Ramsie; and immediately afterwards this jovial knight quotes several detached lines from as many separate ballads, for instance, Three merry men be we; There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady; O the twelfth day of December; Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.[579:A] Of these the first was a burden common to many ancient songs, and is called in The Old Wives Tale, by George Peele, 1595, an Old Proverb, and is thus given:—

"Three merrie men, and three merrie men,
And three merrie men be wee;
I in the wood, and thou on the ground,
And Jack sleepes in the tree:"[579:B]

an association which acquired such notoriety as to become the frequent sign of an ale-house, under the appellation of The Three Merry Boys. The second is the first line and the burden of a ballad which was licensed by T. Colwell, in 1562, under the title of The goodly and constant Wyfe Susanna. It is preserved in the Pepysian collection, and the first stanza of it has been quoted by Dr. Percy in his Reliques[579:C]; the burden lady, lady, is again alluded to by Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, act ii. sc. 4. The third has not been traced to its source, but the fourth, and the subsequent lines, are taken, with a little variation, from Corydon's Farewell To Phillis, published in a little black letter miscellany, called "The Golden Garland of Princely Delights," and reprinted entire by Dr. Percy.[579:D]

In act iv. sc. 2. the clown is introduced singing part of the first two stanzas of a song which has been discovered among the ancient MSS. of Dr. Harrington of Bath, and there ascribed, though perhaps not correctly, to Sir Thomas Wyat. It is evident that Shakspeare trusted to his memory in the quotation of these popular pieces, for most of them deviate, in some degree, from the originals; in the present instance, the first two lines, as given by the clown,

"Hey Robin, jolly Robin,
Tell me how thy lady does,"

are substituted for the opening stanza of the old song:—

"A Robyn,
Jolly Robyn,
Tell me how thy leman doeth,
And thou shalt knowe of myn."[580:A]

The commencement of a madrigal, the composition of William Elderton, is sung by Benedict, in Much Ado about Nothing.

"The god of love,
That sits above," &c.[580:B]

and a song beginning in a similar manner, is mentioned by Mr. Ritson, to be in Bacchus' Bountie, 4to. bl. l. 1593; Elderton's production was parodied by a puritan of the name of Birch, under the title of "The Complaint of a Sinner."[580:C]

In Love's Labours Lost, a sweet air, as Armado terms it, commencing with the word Concolinel, is sung by Moth[580:D], but no further intimation is given; and in another part of the same comedy, the burden of an ancient ditty is chaunted by Roseline and Boyet.[580:E] In As You Like It Touchstone quotes a stanza from a ballad of which the first line is O sweet Oliver, and which appears to be the same with the ballad of

"O sweete Olyver
Leave me not behinde thee,"

entered by Richard Jones, on the books of the Stationers' Company, August 6th, 1584[580:F]; and in the subsequent act, Orlando alludes to a madrigal under the title of Wit whither wilt.[580:G]

All's Well that Ends Well affords but two passages from the minstrel poesy of the day, which are put into the mouth of the clown; one of these is evidently taken from a ballad on the Sacking of Troy, and the other seems to have been the chorus of a song on courtship or marriage.[581:A]

From the Taming of the Shrew we collect the initial lines of two apparently very popular ballads; the first beginning Where is the life that late I led[581:B], which is likewise quoted by Ancient Pistol[581:C], and referred to in A gorgious Gallery of gallant Inventions, 4to. 1578; there is also a song or sonnet with this title, observes Mr. Malone, in a handeful of pleasant Delites, containing sundrie new Sonets, &c. 1584, where we read of "Dame Beautie's replie to the lover late at libertie, and now complaineth himselfe to be her captive, intituled, Where is the life that late I led:

"The life that erst thou led'st, my friend,
Was pleasant to thine eyes," &c.[581:D]

The second fragment with which Petruchio has favoured us, commencing

"It was the friar of orders grey,
As he forth walked on his way,"[581:E]

has given rise to one of the most pleasing and pathetic of modern ballads, founded on a professed introduction of as many of our poet's ballad fragments as could consistently be adapted. "Dispersed through Shakspeare's plays," says the ingenious associator, "are innumerable little fragments of ancient ballads, the entire copies of which could not be recovered. Many of these being of the most beautiful and pathetic simplicity, the editor was tempted to select some of them, and with a few supplemental stanzas to connect them together, and form them into a little Tale."[582:A] That much taste and poetic spirit, together with a very successful effort in combination, have been exhibited in this little piece, the public approbation has unequivocally decided.

To the character of Autolycus, in the Winter's Tale, a very humorous exemplar of the fallen state of the minstrel tribe, we are indebted for some illustration of the prevalency of ballad-writing at the commencement of the reign of James the First. Most of the songs attributed to this adroit rogue, are, there is reason to think, the composition of Shakspeare, with the exception of the catch beginning Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way[582:B]; but, in his capacity of ballad-vender, he throws considerable light on the subjects to which these motley strains were devoted. He is represented as having ballads of all descriptions, and "the prettiest love-songs for maids"—"and where some stretch-mouth'd rascal would, as it were, mean mischief, and break a foul gap into the matter, he makes the maid to answer, Whoop, do me no harm, good man; puts him off, slights him, with Whoop, do me no harm, good man."[582:C] Accordingly at the Fair he is applied to for these precious wares:—

"Clo. What hast here? ballads?

Mop. Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print, a'-life: for then we are sure they are true.

Aut. Here's one to a very doleful tune, How a usurer's wife was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a burden; and how she longed to eat adder's heads, and toads carbonadoed.

Mop. Is it true, think you?

Aut. Very true; and but a month old.

Dor. Bless me from marrying a usurer!

Aut. Here's the midwife's name to't, one mistress Taleporter; and five or six honest wives that were present: Why should I carry lies abroad?

Mop. 'Pray you now, buy it.

Clo. Come on, lay it by: And let's first see more ballads; we'll buy the other things anon.

Aut. Here's another ballad, Of a fish, that appeared upon the coast, on Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty thousand fathom above water, and sung this ballad against the hard hearts of maids: it was thought she was a woman, and was turned into a cold fish, for she would not exchange flesh with one that loved her: The ballad is very pitiful, and as true.

Dor. Is it true, think you?

Aut. Five justices' hands at it; and witnesses, more than my pack will hold.

Clo. Lay it by too: Another.

Aut. This is a merry ballad; but a very pretty one.

Mop. Let's have some merry ones.

Aut. Why, this is a passing merry one; and goes to the tune of, Two maids wooing a man: there's scarce a maid westward, but she sings it; 'tis in request, I can tell you."[584:A]

The request, in fact, for these popular pieces of poetry was then infinitely greater than has since obtained in more modern times; not a murder, or an execution, not a battle or a tempest, not a wonderful event or a laughable adventure, could occur, but what was immediately thrown into the form of a ballad, and the muse supplied what humble prose now details to us among the miscellaneous articles of a news-paper; a statement which is fully confirmed by the observation of another character in this very play, who tells us that "such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it."[584:B]

In the Second Part of King Henry the Fourth Falstaff enters a room, in the Boar's Head Tavern, singing the first two lines of a ballad which Dr. Percy has reprinted under the title of Sir Lancelot Du Lake.[585:A] This, which is merely a metrical version of three chapters from the first part of Morte Arthur, is quoted imperfectly by the knight, owing to the interruptions attending his situation; the opening lines of the ballad are,