When she was drest in this array,
And was ready to part away,

God send long life unto my lord, quoth she,
Let no offence be found in this,

To give my love a parting kisse.

With watery eyes, farewell, my deare, said he.

How Patient Grissel was sent for to the wedding, and of her great humility and patience.

From princely palace

Unto her father's cottage
Poore Grissell now is gone.

Full sixteene winters
She lived there contented;

No wrong she thought upon.

And at that time through

All the land the speeches went,
The Marquesse should married be
Unto a noble lady great,

Of high descent;

And to the same all parties did agree. The Marquesse sent for Grissell faire,

The brides bed-chamber to prepare,

That nothing therein might be found awry.
The bride was with her brother come,

Which was great joy to all and some;
But Grissell tooke all this most patiently.

And in the morning,

When as they should be wedded,

Her patience there was tride:

Grissel was charged

Herselfe in friendly manner

For to attire the bride.

Most willingly

She gave consent to doe the same;
The bride in bravery was drest,
And presently

The noble Marquesse thither came
With all his lords at his request.
O! Grissell, I would aske of thee,
If to this match thou wilt agree?

Methinks thy lookes are waxed wondrous coy.
With that they all began to smile,
And Grissel she replied the while,

God send lord Marquesse many years of joy

How the Marquesse, being moved with her patience, gave her two children,
were friends, and after lived in peace,

The Marquesse was moved

To see his best beloved

Thus patient in distresse.
He stept unto her,

And by the hand he tooke her;
These words he did expresse:-

Thou art my bride,

And all the bride I meane to have:
These two thy own children be.

The youthfull lady

On her knees did blessing crave,
Her brother as well as she.

And you that envied her estate,
Whom I have made my loving mate,

Now blush for shame, and honour vertuous life.

The chronicles of lasting fame

Shall evermore extol the name

Of Patient Grissel, my most constant wife.

[The story of Patient Grissell was first told to English readers by the father of English poetry, in whose delightful 'Canterbury Tales' it is given as that of the Clerk of Oxenford. The Clerk, speaking for his creator, says he had heard it from Petrarch at Padua. However this might be, certain it is, that Petrarch was acquainted with the story, for a letter has been preserved, in which he sends Boccaccio a Latin version of it. Whether Boccaccio was previously acquainted with it, or was indebted for it in the first instance to Petrarch, he gave it a place in his Decameron, which indeed is the earliest work in which it has been found. 'The French,' however, lay claim to it,' and brought it on the stage in Paris as early as 1393. (Warton, Hist. Eng. Poetry, ii. 251; edit. 1824,) and the Germans in 1550. It was also made the foundation of a 'Pleasant Comodie,' by Dekker, Chettle, and Haughton, which was edited, few years ago, for the Shakespeare Society, by J. P. Collier, Esq., to whore Introduction' we must refer the reader who desires farther information respecting it.]

C

[This ballad is taken from the reprint, for the Percy Society, under the editorial care of J. P. Collier, Esq., of a black-letter tract, Printed at London, by Tho. Cotes, and are to be sold by Francis Grove, dwelling upon Snowhill, 1640,' the title of which, as given by Mr. Collier, is as follows:-The King and a Foore Northerne Man. Shewing how a Poore Northumberland Man, a Tenant to the King, being wronged by a Lawyer, (his Neighbour,) went to the King himself to make knowne his Grievances. Full of simple mirth and merry plaine jests.' No older edition is known, according to Mr. Collier; nor any other copy of that from which he printed. There is, however, as mentioned by him, a broadside in Bagford's Collection, in the British Museum, entitled The King and Northern Man,' printed by W. O., and to be sold by the Booksellers in Pye Corner and London Bridge. And since Mr. Collier's reprint was made, the Roxburghe Collection of Ballads has been added to the same national repository, in which collection is another copy, also in broadside, and in black-letter, the title of which varies but little from that given above. The ballad is therein directed to be sung to the tune of Slut;' and is printed by and for Alex. Milbourn, at the Stationer's Arms in Green Arborcourt, in the Little Old Bailey.' For some information respecting the story and the authorship of the ballad, the reader is referred to the Note, p. 337.]

OME hearken to me all around,
And I will tell you a merry tale

Of a Northumberland man that held some
ground,

Which was the King's land. in a dale.

He was borne and bred thereupon,

And his father had dwelt there long before,
Who kept a good house in that country,
And staved the wolfe from off his doore.

Now for this farm the good old man

Just twenty shillings a-year did pay.
At length came cruell death with his dart,
And this old farmer he soone did slay;

Who left behind him an aulde wife then,
That troubled was with mickle paine,
And with her cruches she walkt about,

For she was likewise blinde and lame.

When that his corpes were laid in the grave,
His eldest sonne possesse did the farme,
At the same rent as the father before:

He took great paines and thought no harme.

By him there dwelt a Lawyer false,

That with his farme was not content,
But over the poore man still hang'd his nose,
Because he did gather the King's rent.

This farme layd by the Lawyer's land,

Which this vild kerne had a mind unto:
The deele a good conscience had he in his bulke,
That sought this poore man for to undoe.

He told him he his lease had forfite,

And that he must there no longer abide:
The King by such lownes hath mickle wrong done,
And for you the world is broad and wide.

The poore man pray'd him for to cease,
And content himselfe, if he would be willing;
And picke no vantage in my lease,

And I will give thee forty shilling.

Its neither forty shillings, no forty pound,
Ise warrant thee, so can agree thee and me,
Unlesse thou yield me thy farme so round,
And stand unto my curtesie.

The poore man said he might not do sa;

His wife and his bearnes will make him ill warke.

If thou wilt with my farme let me ga,

Thou seemes a good fellow, Ise give thee five marke.

378

The Lawyer would not be so content,

But farther in the matter he means to smell.
The neighbours bad the poore man provide his rent,
And make a submission to the King himsell.

This poore man now was in a great stond,
His senses they were almost wood:

I thinke, if he had not tooke grace in 's mind,
That he would never againe beene good.

His head was troubled in such a bad plight,
As though his eyes were apple gray;
And if good learning he had not tooke,
He wod a cast himselfe away.

A doughty heart he then did take,

And of his mother did blessing crave,
Taking farewell of his wife and bearnes;

It earned his heart them thus to leave.

Thus parting with the teares in his eyne,
His bob-taild dog he out did call:
Thou salt gang with me to the King:
And so he tooke his leave of them all.

He had a humble staffe on his backe,
A jerkin, I wat, that was of gray,

With a good blue bonnet, he thought it no lacke;
To the King he is ganging as fast as he may

He had not gone a mile out o' th' toone,

But one of his neighbours he did espy:

How far ist to th' King? for thither am I boone
As fast as ever I can hye.

I am sorry for you, neighbour, he sayd,
For your simplicity I make mone:
Ise warrant you, you may ask for the King,

When nine or ten dayes journey you have gone.

Had I wist the King wond so farre,

Ise neere a sought him a mile out o' th' toone:
Hes either a sought me, or wee'd neere a come nare;
At home I had rather spent a crowne.

Thus past he alang many a weary mile,
In raine, and wet, and in foule mire,
That ere he came to lig in his bed,

His dog and he full ill did tire.