in France one Captain Coucy, a gallant gentleman of an ancient extraction, and keeper of Coucy Castle, which is yet standing, and in good repair. He fell in love with a young gentlewoman, and courted her for his wife. There was a reciprocal love between them; but her parents understanding of it, by way of prevention, they shuffled up a forced match 'twixt her and one Monsieur Faiell who was a great heir : Captain Coucy hereupon quitted France in discontent, and went to the wars in Hungary against the Turk; where he received a mortal wound, not far from Bada. Being carried to his lodging, he languished for some days; but a little before his death he spoke to an ancient servant of his, that he had many proofs of his fidelity and truth; but now he had a great business to intrust him with, which he conjured him by all means to do, which was, That after his death, he should get his body to be opened and then to take his heart out of his breast, and put in an earthen pot, to be baked to powder; and then to put the powder in. a handsome box, with that bracelet of hair he had worn long about on his left wrist, which was a lock of Mademoiselle Faiell's hair, and put it among the powder, together with a little note he had written with his own blood to her; and after he had given him the rites of burial, to make all the speed he could to France, and deliver the box to Mademoiselle Faiell. The old servant did as his master had commanded him, and so went to France; and coming one day to Monsieur Faiell's house, he suddenly met with him, who examined him because he knew he was Captain Coucy's servant, and finding him timorous and faltering in his

speech, he searched him, and found the said box in his pocket with the note, which expressed what was therein. He dismissed the bearer with menaces, that he should come no more near his house: Monsieur Faiell going in, sent for his cook, and delivered him the powder, charging him to make a little wellrelished dish of it, without losing a jot of it, for it was a very costly thing; and commanded him to bring it in himself, after the last course at supper. The cook bringing in the dish accordingly, Monsieur Faiell commanded all to void the room, and began a serious discourse with his wife: However since he had married her, he observed she was always melancholy, and he feared she was inclining to a consumption; therefore he had provided for her a very precious cordial, which he was well assured would cure her. Thereupon he made her eat up the whole dish; and afterwards much importuning him to know what it was, he told her at last, she had eaten Coucy's heart, and so drew the box out of his pocket, and showed her the note and bracelet. In a sudden exultation of joy, she with a farfetched sigh said,This is precious indeed,' and so licked the dish, saying, It is so precious, that 'tis pity to put ever any meat upon't.' So she went to to bed, and in the morning she was found stone dead."

But a more national, a more inspiriting, and a more agreeable theme for the alert finger or the busy loom is found in the life and adventures of that prince of combatants, that hero of all heroes, Guy Earl of Warwick. Help me, shades of renowed * Epistolæ Ho-Elianæ.

slaughterers, whilst I record his achievements! Bear witness to his deed, ye grisly phantoms, ye bloody ghosts of infidel Paynims, whom his Christian sword mowed down, even as corn falls beneath the the reaper's sickle, till the redoubtable champion strode breast deep in bodies over fifteen acres covered with slaughtered foes! * And all this from

Christian zeal!

"In faith of Christ a Christian true

The wicked laws of infidels,

He sought by power to subdue.

"So passed he the seas of Greece,

To help the Emperour to his right,
Against the mighty Soldan's host

Of puissant Persians for to fight:
Where he did slay of Sarazens

And heathen Pagans many a man,
And slew the Soldan's cousin dear,
Who had to name, Doughty Colbron,

"Ezkeldered that famous knight,

To death likewise he did pursue,

And Almain, king of Tyre also,
Most terrible too in fight to view:

He went into the Soldan's host,

Being thither on ambassage sent,
And brought away his head with him,
He having slain him in his tent."

Or passing by his

"Feats of arms

In strange and sundry heathen lands,"

note his beneficent progress at home—

* "Fifteen acres were covered with the bodies of slaughtered Saracens ; and so furious were the strokes of Sir Guy, that the pile of dead men, wherever his sword had reached, rose as high as his breast."-Ellis, vol. ii,

"In Windsor forest he did slay

A boar of passing might and strength;
The like in England never was,

For hugeness both in breadth and length.
Some of his bones in Warwick yet,

Within the castle there do lye;
One of his shield bones to this day
Hangs in the city of Coventry.

"On Dunsmore heath he also slew

A monstrous wild and cruel beast,
Call'd the dun cow of Dunsmore heath,
Which many people had opprest;
Some of her bones in Warwick yet
Still for a monument doth lie,
Which unto every looker's view,

As wondrous strange they may espy.

"And the dragon in the land,

He also did in flight destroy,

Which did both men and beasts oppress,

And all the country sore annoy:

Or look we at him all doughty as he was, as the pilgrim of love, as subdued by the influence of the tender passion, a suppliant to the gentle Phillis, and ready to compass the earth to fulfil her wishes, and to prove his devotion :

"Was ever knight for lady's sake

So tost in love, as I, Sir Guy;
For Phillis fair, that Lady bright,

As ever man beheld with eye;
She gave me leave myself to try

The valiant knight with shield and spear,

Ere that her love she would grant me,

Who made me venture far and near.”

Or, afterwards view him as

"All clad in grey in Pilgrim sort,
His voyage from her he did take,

Unto that blessed, holy land,

For Jesus Christ, his Saviour's sake."

Lastly, recal we the time when the fierce and ruthless Danes were ravaging our land, and there was scarce a town or castle as far as Winchester, which they had not plundered or burnt, and a proposal was made, and per force acceded to by the English king to decide the struggle by single combat. But the odds were great: Colbrand the Danish champion, was a giant, and ere he came to a combat he provided himself with a cart-load of Danish axes, great clubs with knobs of iron, squared barrs of steel lances and iron hooks wherewith to pull his adversary to him.

On the other hand the English-and sleepless and unhappy, the king Athelstan pondered the circumstance as he lay on his couch, on St. John Baptist's night-had no champion forthcoming, even though the county of Hants had been promised as a reward to the victor. Roland, the most valiant knight of a thousand, was dead; Heraud, the pride of the nation, was abroad; and the great and valiant Guy, Earl of Warwick, was gone on a pilgrimage. The monarch was perplexed and sorrowful; but an angel appeared to him and comforted him.

In conformity with the injunctions of this gracious messenger, the king, attended by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Chichester, placed himself at the north gate of the city (Winchester) at the hour of prime. Divers poor people and pilgrims entered thereat, and among the rest appeared a man of noble visage and stalwart frame, but wan withal, pale with abstinence, and macerated by reason of journeying barefoot. His beard was venerably long and he rested on a staff; he wore a