From the vain bride (ah, bride no more!)

The varying crimson fled,

When, stretch'd before her rival's corse,

She saw her husband dead.

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Then to his Lucy's new-made grave,
Convey'd by trembling swains,

One mould with her, beneath one sod,

For ever now remains.

Oft at their grave the constant hind
And plighted maid are seen;

With garlands gay, and true-love knots,
They deck the sacred green.

But, swain forsworn, whoe'er thou art,

This hallow'd spot forbear

;

Remember Colin's dreadful fate,

And fear to meet him there.

XVIII.

The Boy and the Mantle,

AS REVISED AND ALTERED BY A MODERN HAND.

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MR. WARTON, in his ingenious observations on Spenser, has given his opinion, that the fiction of the Boy and the Mantle is taken from an old French piece entitled, Le Court Mantel, quoted by M. de St. Palaye, in his curious Mémoires sur l'ancienne Chevalerie," Paris, 1759, 2 tom. 12mo; who tells us the story resembles that of Ariosto's enchanted cup. 'Tis possible our English poet may have taken the hint of this subject from that old French romance; but he does not appear to have copied it in the manner of execution: to which (if one may judge from the specimen given in the Mémoires) that of the ballad does not bear the least resemblance. After all, 'tis most likely that all the old stories concerning King Arthur are originally of British growth; and that what the French and other southern nations have of this kind, were at first exported from this island. See Mémoires de l'Acad. des Inscrip. tom. xx. p. 352.

In the Fabliaux ou Contes, 1781, 5 tom. 12mo, of M. Le Grand (tom. i. p. 54), is printed a modern version of the old tale Le Court Mantel, under a new title, Le Manteau maltaillé, which contains the story of this ballad much enlarged, so far as regards the mantle, but without any mention of the knife or the horn.

IN Carleile dwelt king Arthur,

A prince of passing might;

And there maintain'd his table round,
Beset with many a knight.

And there he kept his Christmas

With mirth and princely cheare,

When, lo! a straunge and cunning boy
Before him did appeare.

A kirtle and a mantle

5

"God speed thee, brave king Arthur, Thus feasting in thy bowre;

And Guenever thy goodly queen,

That fair and peerlesse flowre.

"Ye gallant lords and lordings,
I wish you all take heed,
Lest, what ye deem a blooming rose

Should

prove a cankred weed."

VOL. III.

D d

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Then straitway from his bosome

A little wand he drew;

And with it eke a mantle

Of wondrous shape and hew.

"Now have thou here, king Arthur, Have this here of mee,

And give unto thy comely queen,

All-shapen as you see.

"No wife it shall become,

That once hath been to blame." Then every knight in Arthur's court Slye glaunced at his dame.

And first came lady Guenever,
The mantle she must trye.
This dame, she was new-fangled,
And of a roving eye.

When she had tane the mantle,
And all was with it cladde,
From top to toe it shiver'd down,
As tho' with sheers beshradde.

One while it was too long,

Another while too short,

And wrinkled on her shoulders

In most unseemly sort.

45

Now green, now red it seemed,

Then all of sable hue.

"Beshrew me, quoth king Arthur,

I think thou beest not true."

Down she threw the mantle,
Ne longer would not stay ;
But, storming like a fury,

To her chamber flung away.

She curst the whoreson weaver,
That had the mantle wrought:
And doubly curst the froward impe,
Who thither had it brought.

"I had rather live in desarts

Beneath the green-wood tree:

Than here, base king, among thy groomes,
The sport of them and thee.”

Sir Kay call'd forth his lady,

And bade her to come near :

"Yet dame, if thou be guilty,

I pray thee now forbear."

This lady, pertly gigling,

With forward step came on,

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And boldly to the little boy

With fearless face is gone.