"An old knight, with Richard biding, That the kingis wants were swyche, Ye may none find to selle: Now behoves to done as I shall say, With powder, and with spicery, He shall have thereto good talent. And eaten well a good repast, * And supped of the brewis a sup, Slept after, and swet a drop, Thorough Goddis help, and my counsail, The sooth to say, at wordes few, Slain and sodden was the heathen shrew. Quod his men, Lord, we have pork sought; * * Broth. * Sweet. * Gnawed. His folk hem turned away, and lough.* * Laughed. He lay still, and drew in his arm; His chamberlain him wrapped warm. He lay and slept, and swet a stound, King Richard clad him, and arose, And walked abouten in the close."-Vol. ii. p. 225-227. Shortly after this horrible banquet, the Christian camp is attacked. Richard flies to repulse the invaders, succeeds, and returns, wearied with slaughter, to his tent. "A knight his arms gan unlace; What devil is this?' the king cried, For hunger ere I be wo, * Black face. I and my folk shall eat mo.'"-Vol. ii. p. 228, 229. to solicit the ransom of the garrison of Acres, including several persons of high rank, who, with the city, had fallen into the hands of the Christians. Richard receives the ambassadors courteously, and requests their company to dinner. "The invitation was gratefully accepted. Richard in the mean time gave secret orders to his marshal that he should repair to the prison, select a certain number of the most distinguished captives, and, after carefully noting their names on a roll of parchment, cause their heads to be instantly struck off; that these heads should be delivered to the cook, with instructions to clear away the hair, and, after boiling them in a caldron, to distribute them on several platters, one to each guest, observing to fasten on the forehead of each the piece of parchment expressing the name and family of the victim. "This horrible order was punctually executed. At noon the guests were summoned to wash by the music of the waits; the king took his seat, attended by the principal officers of his court, at the high table, and the rest of the company were marshalled at a long table below him. On the cloth were placed portions of salt at the usual distances, but neither bread, wine, nor water. The ambassadors, rather surprised at this omission, but still free from apprehension, awaited in silence the arrival of the dinner, which was announced by the sound of pipes, trumpets and tabours; and beheld, with horror and dismay, the unnaturalibanquet introduced by the steward and his officers. Yet their sentiments of disgust and abhorrence, and even their fears, were for a time suspended by their curiosity. Their eyes were fixed on the king, who, without the slightest change of countenance, swallowed the morsels as fast as they could be supplied by the knight who carved them. "Their attention was then involuntary fixed on the smoking heads before them; they traced in the swoln and distorted features the resemblance of a friend or near relation; and received from the fatal scroll which accompanied each dish the sad assurance, that this resemblance was not imaginary. They sat in torpid silence, anticipating their own fate in that of their countrymen; while their ferocious entertainer, with fury in his eyes, but with courtesy on his lips, insulted them by frequent invitations to merriment. At length this first course was removed and its place supplied by venison, cranes, and other dainties accompanied by the richest wines. The king then apologized to them for what had passed, which he attributed to his ignorance of their taste; and assured them of his religious respect for their character as ambassadors, and of his readiness to grant them a safe conduct for their return. This boon was all that they now wished to claim; and King Richard spake to an old man, Wendes home to your soudan! Say him, it shall him nought avail, Though he for-bar us our vitail, Bread, wine, fish, flesh, salmon, and conger; Of us none shall die with hunger, King Richard shall warrant, There is no flesh so nourissant Unto an English man, Partridge, plover, heron, ne swan, } Cow ne ox, sheep ne swine, As the head of a Sarezyn. There he is fat, and thereto tender; And my men be lean and slender.'"-Vol. ii. p. 232-6. The other exploits of King Richard in the Holy Land were in a similar taste with this cannibal entertainment; and we are of opinion, that when such feats are imputed by way of praise and merit to the hero of the crusaders, and received, as doubtless they were, with no small applause by the audience, the fact will go a great way to ascertain, whether the European character was improved or debased by these Eastern expeditions. The next class of Romances comprehend such as relate to Charlemagne and his Paladins. These are founded on the chronicle of the Pseudo-Turpin, a collection of fables not very dissimilar to those brought together by Geoffrey of Monmouth, and which, like his "An old knight, with Richard biding, That the kingis wants were swyche, Ye may none find to selle: Now behoves to done as I shall say, With powder, and with spicery, He shall have thereto good talent. * And supped of the brewis a sup, Thorough Goddis help, and my counsail, The sooth to say, at wordes few, Slain and sodden was the heathen shrew. * Broth. Quod his men, Lord, we have pork sought; * Sweet. The king ate the flesh, and gnew* the bones, * Gnawed. His folk hem turned away, and lough.* * Laughed. He lay still, and drew in his arm; His chamberlain him wrapped warm. He lay and slept, and swet a stound, King Richard clad him, and arose, And walked abouten in the close."-Vol. ii. p. 225-227. Shortly after this horrible banquet, the Christian camp is attacked. Richard flies to repulse the invaders, succeeds, and returns, wearied with slaughter, to his tent. "A knight his arms gan What devil is this?' the king cried, What? is Saracen's flesh thus good? For hunger ere I be wo, * Black face. I and my folk shall eat mo.""Vol. ii. p. 228, 229. to solicit the ransom of the garrison of Acres, including several persons of high rank, who, with the city, had fallen into the hands of the Christians. Richard receives the ambassadors courteously, and requests their company to dinner. "The invitation was gratefully accepted. Richard in the mean time gave secret orders to his marshal that he should repair to the prison, select a certain number of the most distinguished captives, and, after carefully noting their names on a roll of parchment, cause their heads to be instantly struck off; that these heads should be delivered to the cook, with instructions to clear away the hair, and, after boiling them in a caldron, to distribute them on several platters, one to each guest, observing to fasten on the forehead of each the piece of parchment expressing the name and family of the victim. "This horrible order was punctually executed. At noon the guests were summoned to wash by the music of the waits; the king took his seat, attended by the principal officers of his court, at the high table, and the rest of the company were marshalled at a long table below him. On the cloth were placed portions of salt at the usual distances, but neither bread, wine, nor water. The ambassadors, rather surprised at this omission, but still free from apprehension, awaited in silence the arrival of the dinner, which was announced by the sound of pipes, trumpets and tabours; and beheld, with horror and dismay, the unnaturalibanquet introduced by the steward and his officers. Yet their sentiments of disgust and abhorrence, and even their fears, were for a time suspended by their curiosity. Their eyes were fixed on the king, who, without the slightest change of countenance, swallowed the morsels as fast as they could be supplied by the knight who carved them. "Their attention was then involuntary fixed on the smoking heads before them; they traced in the swoln and distorted features the resemblance of a friend or near relation; and received from the fatal scroll which accompanied each dish the sad assurance, that this resemblance was not imaginary. They sat in torpid silence, anticipating their own fate in that of their countrymen; while their ferocious entertainer, with fury in his eyes, but with courtesy on his lips, insulted them by frequent invitations to merriment. At length this first course was removed and its place supplied by venison, cranes, and other dainties accompanied by the richest wines. The king then apologized to them for what had passed, which he attributed to his ignorance of their taste; and assured them of his religious respect for their character as ambassadors, and of his readiness to grant them a safe conduct for their return. This boon was all that they now wished to claim; and "King Richard spake to an old man, Bread, wine, fish, flesh, salmon, and conger; Of us none shall die with hunger, King Richard shall warrant, There is no flesh so nourissant Unto an English man, Partridge, plover, heron, ne swan, ] Cow ne ox, sheep ne swine, As the head of a Sarezyn. There he is fat, and thereto tender; And my men be lean and slender.'"-Vol. ii. p. 232-6. The other exploits of King Richard in the Holy Land were in a similar taste with this cannibal entertainment; and we are of opinion, that when such feats are imputed by way of praise and merit to the hero of the crusaders, and received, as doubtless they were, with no small applause by the audience, the fact will go a great way to ascertain, whether the European character was improved or debased by these Eastern expeditions. The next class of Romances comprehend such as relate to Charlemagne and his Paladins. These are founded on the chronicle of the Pseudo-Turpin, a collection of fables not very dissimilar to those brought together by Geoffrey of Monmouth, and which, like his they never seem to have been equally popular in England; nor, indeed, could it be expected, as the scene is usually laid in France, Spain, or Italy. The Italians, from the days of Pulci to those of Ariosto, and much later, have had very many poems founded on this basis. The romances which Mr Ellis has given under this class are three, Roland and Ferragus, Sir Otuel, and Sir Ferumbras. The next romance is of Oriental origin, being the earliest edition of the Seven Wise Masters, long known among the school-boys of this country. It is followed by ten miscellaneous romances :-) -Florice and Blancheflour; Robert of Cysille; Sir Isumbras; Sir Triamour; Ipomydon; Eglamour of Artois; Lay le Fraine; Sir Eger and Sir Grahame; Roswal and Lillian; and Amys and Amylion;-all tales of doughty knights and ladies fair, once in high renown among the courtly and the gallant, but now condemned to an obscurity which, in some respects, is as undeserved as their original supereminent reputation. It would far exceed our limits, upon which we have already somewhat trespassed, to give a complete character of the ancient metrical romances. Their importance, in a historical point of view, we have already noticed. They hold out to us, like Shakspeare's players, the abstract and brief chronicles of the time, and demand the serious consideration of every historian. Even in a literary point of view, their merit is not contemptible. It is true, the story is generally rambling and desultory, utterly incapable consequently of exciting the pleasure arising from a well-conducted plan, all the parts of which depend upon each other, and tend, each in due degree, to bring on the catastrophe. So far is this from being the case, that, in a long romance, the adventures usually are all separated and insulated; only connected with each other, by their having happened to the same hero; just as a necklace of beads is combined by the thread on which they are strung. This arrangement, in fact, best suited the reciters, whose narration was to be proportioned to the time and patience of their audience; and whom this loose structure of story permitted to use freedom of compression or dilatation as best suited their purpose, since any single adventure might be inserted without impropriety, or left out without being missed. The same cause accounts for the loose and often tedious style in which the minstrels indulged. It was of consequence that their stanza should be so simple, as to be easily recollected, and their diction so copious, as not to suffer by any occasional deficiency of memory. For these reasons, Robert de Brunne tells us, that the common minstrels were unable to repeat tales written in a concise style and complicated stanza, and that such became nought in their imperfect recitation. To these faults, we have often to add those of extreme awkwardness of contri |