Save but the solitary way

To Burndale's ruin'd grange.

A woful place was that, I ween,

As sorrow could desire;

For nodding to the fall was each crumbling wall, And the roof was scathed with fire.

It fell upon a summer's eve,

While, on Carnethy's head,

The last faint gleams of the sun's low beams
Had streak'd the gray with red;

And the convent bell did vespers tell,
Newbattle's oaks among,

And mingled with the solemn knell
Our Ladye's evening song:

The heavy knell, the choir's faint swell,
Came slowly down the wind,
And on the pilgrim's ear they fell,
As his wonted path he did find."

Deep sunk in thought, I ween, he was,
Nor ever raised his eye,
Until he came to that dreary place,
Which did all in ruins lie.

He gazed on the walls, so scathed with fire,
With many a bitter groan-
And there was aware of a Gray Friar,
Resting him on a stone.

"Now, Christ thee save!" said the Gray Brother;
"Some pilgrim thou seemest to be."
But in sore amaze did Lord Albert gaze,
Nor answer again made he.

"O come ye from east, or come ye from west,
Or bring reliques from over the sea;
Or come ye from the shrine of St. James the divine,
Or St. John of Beverly?"-

"I come not from the shrine of St. James the divine, Nor bring reliques from over the sea;

I bring but a curse from our father the Pope,
Which for ever will cling to me."

"Now, woful pilgrim, say not so!
But kneel thee down by me,

And shrive thee so clean of thy deadly sin,
That absolved thou mayst be."-

"And who art thou, thou Gray Brother,
That I should shrive to thee,

When He, to whom are given the keys of earth and heaven,

Has no power to pardon me ?"

'O I am sent from a distant clime,
Five thousand miles away,
And all to absolve a foul, foul crime,
Done here 'twixt night and day."
The pilgrim kneel'd him on the sand,
And thus began his saye-

When on his neck an ice-cold hand
Did that Gray Brother laye.*

*

foot, in order to visit him. The beauty of this striking scene has been much injured, of late years, by the indiscriminate use of the axe. The traveller now looks in vain for the leafy bower,

"Where Jonson sat in Drummond's social shade."

Upon the whole, tracing the Eske from its source, till it joins the sea at Musselburgh, no stream in Scotland can boast such a varied succession of the most interesting objects, as well as of the most romantic and beautiful scenery. 1803. -The beautiful scenery of Hawthornden has, since the above note was written, recovered all its proper ornament of wood. 1831.

WAR-SONG

OF THE ROYAL EDINBURGH LIGHT DRAGOONS.

BY WALTER SCOTT.

"Nennius. Is not peace the end of arms?

Caratach. Not where the cause implies a general conquest. Had we a difference with some petty isle,

Or with our neighbours, Britons, for our landmarks,
The taking in some rebellious lord,

Or making head against a slight commotion,
After a day of blood, peace might be argued:
But where we grapple for the land we live on,
The liberty we hold more dear than life,

The gods we worship, and, next these, our honours,
And, with those, swords that know no end of battle-
Those men, beside themselves, allow no neighbour,
Those minds, that, where the day is, claim inheritance,
And, where the sun makes ripe the fruit, their harvest,
And, where they march, but measure out more ground
To add to Rome-

It must not be-No! as they are our foes,
Let's use the peace of honour-that's fair dealing;
But in our hands our swords. The hardy Roman,
That thinks to graft himself into my stock,
Must first begin his kindred under ground,
And be allied in ashes."

Bonduca.

THE following War-Song was written during the apprehension of an invasion. The corps of volunteers to which it was addressed, was raised in 1797, consisting of gentlemen, mounted and armed at their own expense. It still subsists, as the Right Troop of the Royal Mid-Lothian Light Cavalry, commanded by the Honourable Lieutenant-Colonel Dundas.t The noble and constitutional measure of arming freemen in defence of their own rights, was nowhere more successful than in Edinburgh, which furnished a force of 3000 armed and disciplined volunteers, including a regiment of cavalry, from the city and county, and two corps of artillery, each capable of others, might, in similar circumstances, be applied serving twelve guns. To such a force, above all the exhortation of our ancient Calgacus: "Proinde ituri in aciem, et majores vestros ct posteros cogitate." 1812.

WAR-SONG

OF THE ROYAL EDINBURGH LIGHT DRAGOONS.

To horse! to horse! the standard flies,
The bugles sound the call;

The Gallic navy stems the seas,
The voice of battle's on the breeze,
Arouse ye, one and all!

From high Dunedin's towers we come,
A band of brothers true;

Our casques the leopard's spoils surround,
With Scotland's hardy thistle crown'd;
We boast the red and blue.§

Though tamely crouch to Gallia's frown
Dull Holland's tardy train;

Their ravish'd toys though Romans mourn;
Though gallant Switzers vainly spurn,
And, foaming, gnaw the chain;

Oh! had they mark'd the avenging call ||
Their brethren's murder gave,
Disunion ne'er their ranks had mown,
Nor patriot valour, desperate grown,
Sought freedom in the grave!

Shall we, too, bend the stubborn head,
In Freedom's temple born,

Dress our pale cheek in timid smile,
To hail a master in our isle,

Or brook a victor's scorn?

[The song originally appeared in the Scots Magazine for 1802. 1 Now Viscount Melville.-1831. The royal colours.

The allusion is to the massacre of the Swiss Guards, on the fatal 10th August, 1792. It is painful, but not useless, to remark, that the passive temper with which the Swiss regarded the death of their bravest countrymen, mercilessly slaughtered in discharge of their duty, encouraged and authorized the progressive injustice, by which the Alps, once the seat of the most virtuous and free people upon the continent, have, at length, been converted into the citadel of a foreign and military despot. A state degraded is half enslaved.-1812.

No! though destruction o'er the land

Come pouring as a flood,
The sun, that sees our falling day,
Shall mark our sabres' deadly sway,
And set that night in blood.

For gold let Gallia's legions fight,
Or plunder's bloody gain;

Unbribed, unbought, our swords we draw,

To guard our king, to fence our law,
Nor shall their edge be vain.

If ever breath of British gale
Shall fan the tri-colour,

Or footstep of invader rude,

With rapine foul, and red with blood,

Pollute our happy shore,

Then farewell home! and farewell friends!
Adieu each tender tie!

Resolved, we mingle in the tide,
Where charging squadrons furious ride,
To conquer or to die.

To horse! to horse! the sabres gleam;
High sounds our bugle call;
Combined by honour's sacred tie,
Our word is Laws and Liberty!
March forward, one and all !*

LORD SOULIS.

BY JOHN LEYDEN.

THE subject of the following ballad is a popular tale of the Scottish Borders. It refers to transactions of a period so important, as to have left an indelible impression on the popular mind, and almost to have effaced the traditions of earlier times. The fame of Arthur, and the Knights of the Round Table, always more illustrious among the Scottish Borderers, from their Welsh origin, than Fin Maccoul, and Gow Macmorne, who seem not, however, to have been totally unknown, yielded gradually to the reDown of Wallace, Bruce, Douglas, and the other patrots, who so nobly asserted the liberty of their country. Beyond that period, numerous, but obscure and varying legends, refer to the marvellous Merlin, or Myrrdin the Wild, and Michael Scott, both magicians of notorious fame. In this instance the enchanters have triumphed over the true man. But the charge of magic was transferred from the ancient.sorcerers to the objects of popular resentment of every age: and the partisans of the Baliols, the abetters of the English faction, and the enemies of the Protestant and of the Presbyterian reformation, have been indiscriminately stigmatized as necromancers and warlocks. Thus, Lord Soulis, Archbishop Sharp, Grierson of Lagg, and Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, receive from tradition the same supernatural attributes. According to Dalrymplet the family of Soulis seems to have been powerful during the contest between Bruce and Balol; for adhering to the latter of whom they incurred forfeiture. Their power extended over the South and West Marches; and near Deadrigs, in the parish of Eccles, in the East Marches, their familybearings still appear on an obelisk. William de Soulis, Justiciarius Laodoniæ, in 1281, subscribed the famous obligation, by which the nobility of Scotland bound themselves to acknowledge the sovereignty of the Maid of Norway and her descendants: (RHYMER, tom. ii. pp. 266,)—and, in 1291, Nicholas de Soulis appears as a competitor for the crown of Scotland, which he claimed as the heir of Margery, a bastard daughter of Alexander II., and wife of Allan Durward, or Chuissier.-CARTE, p. 177. DALRYMPLE'S Annals, vol. i. p. 203.

But their power was not confined to the Marches; for the barony of Saltoun, in the shire of Haddington, derived its name from the family; being de*(Sir Walter Scott was, at the time when he wrote this song, Quartermaster of the Edinburgh Light Cavalry. See one of the Epistles Introductory to Marmion.-ED.]

Dalrymple's Collection concerning the Scottish History, p. 395.

signed Soulistoun, in a charter to the predecessors of Nevoy of that Ilk, seen by Dalrymple; and the same frequently appears among those of the benefactors and witnesses in the chartularies of abbeys, particularly in that of Newbottle. Ranulphus de Soulis occurs as a witness, in a charter, granted by King David, of the teinds of Stirling; and he, or one of his successors, had afterwards the appellation of Pincerna Regis. The following notices of the family and its decline, are extracted from Robertson's Index of Lost Charters.§ Various repetitions occur, as the index is copied from different rolls, which appear to have never been accurately arranged.

Charter to the Abbacie of Melross, of that part of the barony of Westerker, quhilk perteint to Lord Soulis-a Rob. I, in vicecom. Melrose.

To the Abbey of Craigelton, quhilkis perteint to Lord Soullis-ab eodem-Candida Casa.

To John Soullis, knight, of the lands of Kirkanders and
Brettalaci-ab eodem-Dumfries.

To John Soullis, knight, of the baronie of Torthorald-
ab eodem-Dumfries.

To John Soullis, of the lands of Kirkanders--ab eodem-
Dumfries.

To John Soullis, of the barony of Kirkanders-que fuit
quondam Johannis de Wak, Militis-ab eodem.

To James Lord Douglas, the half lands of the barony of
Westerke, in valle de Esk, quhilk William Soullis
forisfecit-ab eodem.

To Robert Stewart, the son and heir of Walter Stewart,
the barony of Nishit, the barony of Longnewton and
Mertoun, and the barony of Cavirton, in vicecomitatu
de Roxburgh, quhilk William Soullis forisfecit.
To Murdoch Menteith, of the lands of Gilmerton, whilk
was William Soullis, in vicecom. de Edinburgh-ab
eodem.

To Robert Bruce, of the lands of Liddesdale, whilk
William Soullis erga nos forisfecit-ab eodem.

To Robert Bruce, son to the King, the lands of Liddes-
dail, quhilk William Soullis forisfecit erga nos-ab
eodem anno regni 16.

To Archibald Douglas, of the baronie of Kirkanders,
quhilk were John Soullis, in vicecom. de Dumfries.

To Murdoch Menteith, of the lands of Gilmerton, quhilk
Soullis forisfecit, in vicecom. de Edinburgh.

To Waltero Senescallo Scotine of Nesbit, (exceptand the
valley of Liddell,) the barony of Langnewton and
Maxfoun, the barony of Cavertoun, in vicecom. de
Roxburgh, quas Soullis forisfecit.

To William Lord Douglas, of the lands of Lyddal, whilkis
William Soullis forisfecit-a Davide secundo.

To James Lord Douglas, of the barony of Westerker,
quam Willielmus de Soullis forisfecit.

The hero of tradition seems to be William Lord Soulis, whose name occurs so frequently in the foregoing list of forfeitures; by which he appears to have possessed the whole district of Liddesdale, with Westerkirk and Kirkandrews, in Dumfries-shire, the lands of Gilmertoun near Edinburgh, and the rich baronies of Nisbet, Longnewton, Caverton, Maxtoun, and Mertoun, in Roxburghshire. He was of royal descent, being the grandson of Nicholas de Soulis, who claimed the crown of Scotland, in right of his grandmother, daughter to Alexander II.; and who, could her legitimacy have been ascertained, must have excluded the other competitors. The elder brother of William was John de Soulis, a gallant warrior, warmly attached to the interests of his country, who, with fifty Borderers, defeated and made prisoner Sir Andrew Harclay, at the head of three hundred Englishmen, and was himself slain fighting in the cause of Edward the Bruce, at the battle of Dundalk, in Ireland, 1318. He had been joint-warden of the kingdom with John Cummin, after the abdication of the immortal Wallace, in 1300; in which character he was recognised by John Baliol, who, in a charter granted after his dethrone

Transactions of the Antiquarian Society of Scotland, vol. i. p. 269.

Index of many records of charters granted between 1309 and 1413, published by W. Robertson, Esq.

ment and dated at Rutherglen, in the ninth year of his reign (1302,) styles him " Custos regni nostri." The treason of William, his successor, occasioned the downfall of the family. This powerful baron entered into a conspiracy against Robert the Bruce, in which many persons of rank were engaged. The object, according to Barbour, was to elevate Lord Soulis to the Scottish throne. The plot was discovered by the Countess of Strathern. Lord Soulis was seized at Berwick, although he was attended, says Barbour, by three hundred and sixty squires, besides many gallant knights. Having confessed his guilt in full Parliament, his life was spared by the King; but his domains were forfeited, and he himself confined in the castle of Dumbarton, where he died. Many of his accomplices were executed; among others, the gallant David de Brechin, nephew to the King, whose sole crime was having concealed the treason, in which he disdained to participate.* The Parliament, in which so much noble blood was shed, was long remembered by the name of the Black Parliament. It was held in the year 1320. From this period, the family of Soulís make no figure in our annals. Local tradition, however, more faithful to the popular sentiment than history, has recorded the character of their chief, and attributed to him many actions which seem to correspond with that character. His portrait is by no means flattering; uniting every quality which could render strength formidable, and cruelty detestable. Combining prodigious bodily strength, with cruelty, avarice, dissimulation, and treachery, is it surprising that a people, who attributed every event of life, in a great measure, to the interference of good or evil spirits, should have added to such a character the mystical horrors of sorcery? Thus, he is represented as a cruel tyrant and sorcerer; constantly employed in oppressing his vassals, harassing his neighbours, and fortifying his Castle of Hermitage against the King of Scotland; for which purpose he employed all means, human and infernal; invoking the fiends by his incantations, and forcing his vassals to drag materials, like beasts of burden. Tradition proceeds to relate, that the Scottish King, irritated by reiterated complaints, peevishly exclaimed to the petitioners, Boil him if you please, but let me hear no more of him." Satisfied with this answer, they proceeded with the utmost haste to execute the commission; which they accomplished by boiling him alive on the Nine-stane Rig, in a cauldron, said to have been long preserved at Skelf-hill, a hamlet betwixt Hawick and the Hermitage. Messengers, it is said, were immediately despatched by the King, to prevent the effects of such a hasty declaration; but they only arrived in time to witness the conclusion of the ceremony. The Castle of Hermitage, unable to support the load of iniquity which had been long accumulating within its walls, is supposed to have partly sunk beneath the ground; and its ruins are still regarded by the peasants with peculiar aversion and terror. The door of the chamber, where Lord Soulis is said to have held his conferences with the evil spirits, is supposed to be opened once in seven years, by that demon, to which, when he left the castle never to return, he committed the keys, by throwing them over his left shoulder, and desiring it to keep them till his return. Into this chamber, which is really the dungeon of the castle, the peasant is afraid to look; for such is the active malignity of its inmate, that a willow inserted at the chinks of the door, is found peeled, or stripped of its bark, when drawn back. The Nine-stane Rig, where Lord Soulis was

*As the people thronged to the execution of the gallant youth, they were bitterly rebuked by Sir Ingram de Umfraville, an Eng lish or Norman knight, then a favourite follower of Robert Bruce. "Why press you," said he, "to see the dismal catastrophe of so generous a knight? I have seen ye throng as eagerly around him

to share his bounty, as now to behoid his death." With these words he turned from the scene of blood, and repairing to the King, craved leave to sell his Scottish possessions, and to retire from the country. "My heart," said Umfraville, ̧ will not, for the wealth of the world, permit me to dwell any longer, where I have seen such a knight die by the hands of the executioner." With the King's leave, he interred the body of David de Brechin, Bold his lands, and left Scotland for ever. The story is beautifully told by Barbour, book 19th.

boiled, is a declivity about one mile in breadth, and four in length, descending upon the Water of Hermitage, from the range of hills which separate Liddesdale and Teviotdale. It derives its name from one of those circles of large stones which are termed Druidical, nine of which remained to a late period. Five of these stones are still visible; and two are particularly pointed out, as those which supported the iron bar, upon which the fatal cauldron was suspended.

The formation of ropes of sand, according to popular tradition, was a work of such difficulty, that it was assigned by Michael Scott to a number of spirits, for which it was necessary for him to find some interminable employment. Upon discovering the futility of their attempts to accomplish the work assigned, they petitioned their taskmaster to be al lowed to mingle a few handfuls of barley-chaff with the sand. On his refusal, they were forced to leave untwisted the ropes which they had shaped. Such is the traditionary hypothesis of the vermicular ridges of the sand on the shore of the sea.

Redcap is a popular appellation of that class of spirits which haunt old castles. Every ruined tower in the south of Scotland is supposed to have an inhabitant of this species.

LORD SOULIS.

LORD SOULIS he sat in Hermitage Castle,
And beside him Old Redcap sly;-
"Now, tell me, thou sprite, who art meikle of might,
The death that I must die ?"-

"While thou shalt bear a charmed life,
And hold that life of me,
'Gainst lance and arrow, sword and knife,
I shall thy warrant be.

"Nor forged steel, nor hempen band,
Shall e'er thy limbs confine,
Till threefold ropes of sifted sand
Around thy body twine.

"If danger press fast, knock thrice on the chest,
Turn away your eyes, when the lid shall rise,
With rusty padlocks bound;
And listen to the sound."

Lord Soulis he sat in Hermitage Castle,
And he call'd on a page, who was witty and sage,
And Redcap was not by ;
To go to the barmkin high.

66

"And look thou east, and look thou west,
And quickly come tell to me,
What troopers haste along the waste.
And what may their livery be."

He look'd over fell, and he look'd o'er flat
But nothing, I wist, he saw,
Save a pyot on a turret that sat
Beside a corby craw.

The page he look'd at the skrieht of day,
But nothing, I wist, he saw,

Till a horseman gray, in the royal array, Rode down the Hazel-shaw.

O May she came, and May she gaed,
By Goranberry green;
And May she was the fairest maid,
That ever yet was seen.

O May she came, and May she gaed,
By Goranberry tower;

And who was it but cruel Lord Soulis,
That carried her from her bower?

He brought her to his castle gray,
By Hermitage's side;

Says "Be content, my lovely May,
For thou shalt be my bride."

With her yellow hair, that glitter'd fair,
She dried the trickling tear;

She sigh'd the name of Branxholm's heir,
The youth that loved her dear.

"Now, be content, my bonny May,
And take it for your hame;

Or ever and aye shall ye rue the day

You heard young Branxholm's name.

"O'er Branxholm tower, ere the morning hour, When the lift is like lead sae blue,

The smoke shall roll white on the weary night,
And the flame shall shine dimly through.'

Syne he's ca'd on him Ringan Red,
A sturdy kemp was he;

From friend, or foe, in Border feid,
Who never a foot would flee.

Red Ringan sped, and the spearmen led
Up Goranberry slack;

Ay many a wight, unmatch'd in fight,
Who never more came back.

And bloody set the westering sun,
And bloody rose he up;

But little thought young Branxholm's heir
Where he that night should sup.

He shot the roebuck on the lee,

The dun-deer on the law;

The glamourt sure was in his ee
When Ringan nigh did draw.

O'er heathy edge, through rustling sedge,
He sped till day was set;

And he thought it was his merry-men true,
When he the spearmen met.

Far from relief, they seized the chief;
His men were far away;

Through Hermitage slack they sent him back
To Soulis's castle gray;

Syne onward fure for Branxholm tower,
Where all his merry-men lay.

* Lift-Sky.

↑ Glamour-Magical delusion.

The idea of Lord Soulis' familiar seems to be derived from the curious story of the spirit Orthone and the Lord of Corasse, which, I think, the reader will be pleased to see in all its Gothic simplicity, as translated from Froissart, by the Lord of Berners. "It is great marveyle to consyder one thynge, the whiche was shewed to me in the Earl of Foiz house at Ortayse, of hym that enformed me of the busynesse at Juberothe, [Aljubarota, where the Spaniards, with their French allies, were defeated by the Portrase, A. D. 1385.] He shewed me one thyng that I have often tynes thought on sithe, and shall do as long as I live. As this super told me that of trouthe the next day after the battayl was the fought, at Juberoth, the Erle of Foiz knewe it, whereof I bad at marveyle; for the said Sonday, Monday, and Tuesday, the erle was very pensyf, and so sadde of chere, that no man could have a worde of hym And all the said three days he wold nat Be cut of his chambre, nor speke to any man, though they were Dever so nere about hym. And, on the Tuesday night, he called to him his brother Arnault Guyllyam, and sayd to him, with a soft voice, Our men hath had to do, whereof I am sorrie; for it is come of them by their voyage, as I sayd or they departed. Arnault Guyllyam, who was a sage knight, and knewe right well his brother's condicions, I. e. temper.] stode still, and gave none an And than the erle, who thought to declare his mind more plainlye, for long he had borne the trouble thereof in his herte, akageyn more higher than he dyd before, and sayd, By God, Sir Arnault, it is as I save, and shortely ye shall here tidynges thereof; but the countrey of Byerne, this hundred yere, never lost suche a losse at no journey, as they have done now in Portugal. Dyvera knights and squyers, that were there present, and herde hym say so, stode styll, and durst nat speke, but they remember ed his wordes. And within a ten days after, they knewe the

to me!

"Now, welcome, noble Branxholm's heir!
Thrice welcome," quoth Soulis,
Say, dost thou repair to my castle fair,
My wedding guest to be?
And lovely May deserves, per fay,
A brideman such as thee?"

And broad and bloody rose the sun,
And on the barmkin shone;

When the page was aware of Red Ringan there.
Who came riding all alone.

To the gate of the tower Lord Soulis he speeds, As he lighted at the wall,

Says "Where did ye stable my stalwart steeds And where do they tarry all?"

66

'We stabled them sure, on the Tarras Muir; We stabled them sure," quoth he:

"Before we could cross the quaking moss, They all were lost but me.'

He clench'd his fist, and he knock'd on the chest
And he heard a stifled groan;

And at the third knock each rusty lock
Did open one by one.

He turn'd away his eyes as the lid did rise,
And he listen'd silentlie;

And he heard breathed slow, in murmurs low,
'Beware of a coming tree!"

In muttering sound the rest was drown'd
No other word heard he;

But slow as it rose, the lid did close,
With the rusty padlocks three.

*

Now rose with Branxholm's ae brother
The Teviot, high and low;
Bauld Walter by name, of meikle fame,
For none could bend his bow.

O'er glen and glade, to Soulis there sped
The fame of his array,

And that Teviotdale would soon assail

His towers and castle gray.

With clenched fist, he knock'd on the chest,

And again he heard a groan;

And he raised his eyes as the lid did rise,
But answer heard he none.

The charm was broke, when the spirit spoke,
And it murmur'd sullenlie,-

"Shut fast the door, and for evermore commit to me the key.

"Alas! that ever thou raised'st thine eyes,

Thine eyes to look on me!

Till seven years are o'er, return no more,
For here thou must not be."

trouthe thereof, by such as had been at the busynesse, and there they shewed every thinge as it was fortuned at Juberoth. Than the erle renewed agayn his dolour, and all the countreye were in sorrowe, for they had lost their parentes, brethren, chyldren, and frendes. Saint Mary' quod I to the squyer that showed me thys tale, how is it that the Earl of Foiz could know, on one daye, what was done within a day or two before, beyng so farre off? By my faythe, sir,' quod he, as it appeared well, he knewe it.'-Than he is a diviner, quod I, or els he hath messangers, that flyethe with the wynde, or he must needs have some craft. The squyer began to laugh, and sayd, Surely he must know it by some art of negromansye or otherwyse. To say the trouthe, we cannot tell how it is, but by our ymaginacions.'-'Sir,' quod I, suche ymaginacions as ye have therein, if it please you to shew me, I wolde be gladde thereof; and if it bee suche a thynge as ought to be secrete, I shall not publysshe it, nor as long as I am in thys countrey I shall never speke word thereof.'—' I praye you thereof,' quod the squyer, for I wolde nat it shulde be knowen, that I shulde speke thereof. But I shall shewe you, as dyvers men speketh secretelye, whan they be togyder as frendes.' Than he drew me aparte into a corner of the chappell at Ortayse, and then began his tale, and sayd :

It is well a twenty yeares paste, that there was, in this coun. trey, a Barone, called Raymond, Lord of Corasse, whyche is a sevyn leagues from this towne of Ortayse. Thys Lorde of Corasse had that same tyme, a plee at Avignon before the Pope, for the dysmes . e. tithes] of his churche, against a clerk, curate there; the whiche priest was of Catelogne. He was a grete clerk, and claymed to have ryghte of the dysmes, in the towne of Corasse, which was valued to an hundred Horens by the yere, and the ryghte that he had, he shewed and proved it; and, by sentence diffvnitive, Pope Urbano the Fyfthe, in consistory gencrall, con